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nurbanu22 · 1 year
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You have been visited by the twocumber. May you receive twofold luck in the coming days
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nurbanu22 · 1 year
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Chapter 8:
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Masterlist.
Arranged Marriage Masterlist (this serie).
<Chapter 7 | Chapter 9>
As Gianna stormed out of her brother's car, she walked a few steps until she reached the wall that surrounded her old house. She was greeted by the guards guarding the great house, who greeted her cordially and let her through. She was hurling insults in Italian when from afar she saw the familiar silhouette of a man and as she focused more she realized who he was, so she wasted no time and ran towards him.
Tom looked up from the ground when he heard quick footsteps approaching him and barely had time to open his arms in greeting when Gianna jumped at him hugging him. Her sudden movement almost made them both fall backwards, except that her brother had kept all of his balance on his right leg.
"What are you doing here? We didn't expect you for at least another week" he said as he lifted her up in the air by the waist.
"I just wanted to see all of you" she replied with her head resting on his shoulder.
Tom finally lowered his sister to the ground and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "You look beautiful Gianna, how is married life treating you?"
Gianna rolled her eyes with a smile. "Awesome, but what about you? Theresa and the kids?" Gianna asked. Something curious is that Tom and Theresa decided to name one of her daughters after Gianna, because they both had a great affection for her. On many occasions the little girl used to get angry when they said her name but it was her aunt who was actually called, the whole family always laughing at the situation.
"They're fine. Theresa and the others are inside Including Kay, a family dinner" Gianna smiled uncomfortably at that comment, it hurt to think that since she got married she had never gone to those family dinners again, she didn't even have her own now "You father is in the yard" he said pointing to the paved path that led to the back of the house. Gianna kissed his cheek and asked that he keep her arrival a secret for at least a while longer.
When she finally reached the backyard she felt like a child again, her life devoid of worries and responsibilities.
Her father was just like most of her memories; he sat on a lawn chair with various fruits around him, peeling them slowly as he enjoyed the smell and taste of it. He was always the type of man who lived the good things in life slowly, soaking up as much as he could of those quiet moments that life offered him.
Gianna laughed at the image and taking a few steps closer, she spoke, "I thought retirement would make your life a little more interesting."
Vito Corleone turned around as fast as his age allowed and a bright smile appeared on his face; There would never be better news for him than that of his sweet Gianna coming home. The absence of his youngest daughter in his daily life was very painful, he did not have anyone to keep him company every morning, to paint little pictures for him or to fill him with questions about how business was progressing, despite already have all the details.
"And what would be more interesting than this?" he asked pointing to his around; the beautiful and quiet garden from where he perfectly received the sun and heard the happy cries of his grandchildren while they played inside the house.
"I don't know, maybe a trip to some beautiful paradisiacal islands" she answered playfully as she walked over to sit next to her father.
He took a damp cloth that was on the table and ran it through his hands to remove the orange juice from them. When she finally did, he waved them in the air and took her daughter's hands. It was at that moment that he allowed himself to enjoy the blissful closeness that he had been missing since even before her daughter's wedding, when her touch was still cold while the anger was still inside of her.
Gianna smiled at him as he took her hands and then kissed them. Guilt began to fill her mind as she noticed his wrinkles were even more pronounced since the last time she saw him, along with his graying hair growing. In that moment of uncertainty when Thomas informed her of an attack on her family, she had not stopped thinking that if it had been her father who had been attacked, the last memory he would have had of his beloved daughter would be of her avoiding his gaze and pulling away from his touch. On her way here she thought that she would not want to leave without first resolving things with her father and letting him know how much she loved him.
Her father looked into her eyes "I have here everything I've ever wanted" he said with a raspy voice. Gianna supported her forehead against her father's and deposited a soft kiss there, at the same time that her hand gently caressed his cheek. As they both moved away from each other, they joined ther gaze again, while Gianna hoped to convey everything that even with words it was difficult for her to say.
________________
About twenty minutes had passed since Gianna's arrival, when both father and daughter were enjoying the beautiful afternoon while Vito told her everything his many nephews had done and what they had learned in her absence. All the while she peeled more oranges and apples for his, leaving them on his plate afterwards.
Vito had finished telling her how her nephews had arranged to play an innocent prank on Carmela, making them both laugh out loud. As their laughter gradually faded, a comfortable silence settled around them, causing Gianna to lean back in her chair, allowing herself to adjust to a more carefree position as she enjoyed being home… of course that her father found this moment as the most opportune to start an awkward conversation.
"How is your marriage treating you?" he ask "You haven't touched the subject since you arrived"
"It's… better than I imagined at first" she answered while looking at the clouds in the sky "We don't spend a lot of time together but when we do it's not as unpleasant as it was at first"
Vito agreed "I'm glad that's the way it is, marriage is something sacred that improves with time"
"Why? Do you see each other less often?" She asked as a joke, because those were the typical jokes that she heard as a child from almost all the men around her; that the best part of the marriage was when it ended, when the wife shut up and more inconsistencies like that.
He smiled and shook his head "For the children" he replied.
Gianna groaned in frustration at that comment and with her hands she took her head, as if a new pain had settled there "Let me tell you that if grandchildren is what you want then you have enough and I assure you that you will have more" she said with her eyes closed.
It was not news to anyone that Vito Corleone loved each and every one of his grandchildren, showering them with love every time he saw them and being overjoyed every time a new child joined the family.
"It's not that Gianna, at some point you will start your own family with the man you married and-"
"To the man you married me to, Dad," Gianna replied softly. "Don't you understand that I never wanted this?" She sat up abruptly and took her father's hands in an attempt to make him understand her words better "I got married because I had no other choice, because it's what you arranged for me… This is not the life I would have chosen and you know it" she finished
Vito stroked her hands with her thumbs, looking for the best words to use without making her daughter angry again "What you want, Gianna, it's not possible."
She tried to separate her hands from her father's touch to close herself in again, but he held them a little more tightly, because her daughter would listen, whether she wanted to or not "Wait Gianna. Do you know why I decided to marry you to Thomas Shelby?"
Gianna snorted "Because you wanted to tie me up before I went to make my life away from all of you."
Vito just shook his head and the moment he spoke, Gianna froze "Barzini wanted you to marry his son"
A/N: Reading the information I collected about the universe of "The Godfather" I realized that I named my character after one of Tom Hagen's youngest daughters, so I decided to include it :)
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nurbanu22 · 1 year
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nurbanu22 · 1 year
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Chapter 7:
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Masterlist.
<Chapter 6 | Chapter 8>
A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to update, I just convinced myself that the writing is bad so I change every detail from time to time :) anyway here it is.
Tomorrow I will upload extra scenes that I did not write in the chapters but that I liked. I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: This chapter is a bit long. It contains the death of a close family member, scenes in a graveyard, and death, but nothing highly descriptive.
The tombstones that surrounded Gianna became more and more numerous as she advanced through the intricate stone path. The night before she had finally arrived in New York, staying at the first nearby hotel she could find. She really didn't want to see any of her family members without first visiting her brother's grave, a way of falling into the reality that he would no longer be waiting for her in her family home when she arrived. there. Thomas was in charge of buying her a ticket to the United States as soon as she found out when Campbell's work would take place, with the promise that when she arrived she would have more space than in the small house he had bought for her; because Arrow House was just days away from finishing its construction.
When Gianna finally visualized the place Michael described her brother's burial place, she walked right up to it.
Santino "Sonny" Corleone. Beloved father, husband, son and brother.
White roses were planted around her grave in symmetrical rows and several different types of flowers seemed to have been left there not long ago. Gianna bent down to place the bouquet of blue flowers (her brother's favorite color when they were children) along with the other bouquets and when she got up she took a few steps back smoothing her new black dress, the one she had bought. especially for this visit. She didn't have any all-black ensemble; She used to believe that having an outfit like this would call misfortune, of course it turned out to be a mistake.
She took a look at the other graves that surrounded her brother's and approached them, noticing that the vast majority no longer had flowers left and the dirt covered the tombstones in such a way that even the names were unrecognizable. It made her wonder who would leave her brother flowers the day everyone who knew and loved him was gone, who would remember her name, his stupid jokes and explosive temper.
It was painful to think that not even her son would remember him and that all he would know about him would only be what she and her mother told him, knowing him through other people's memories that would eventually come to their end.
Gianna heard footsteps behind her and surreptitiously reached into her small bag, where she kept her revolver. She turned around preparing for the worst, when she saw her brother standing just a few steps from her, both hands in her pockets, dressed in a black suit and a cold stare. That was the new Michael.
They both took steps towards each other at the same time and met halfway. Gianna's arms wrapped around her brother's torso as she rested her head on his chest, one hand of his cradling the back of her head, his fingers twining through her raven hair and the other hand gently stroking her back.
It is there where Gianna, finally and after so many months, she felt at home. Being in her brother's arms, while she listened to her heartbeat, was one of the few things she always knew she would miss. The fact that she was the youngest of all his siblings caused them to adopt a softer and more loving personality towards her; being her a great weakness that all the brothers shared.
As Gianna broke from her embrace, her brother's hands cupped her face, her thumbs wiping away the tears that had leaked from her green eyes. They both walked and stood together in front of the recent grave. Gianna's arm was entwined with Michael's and his head was resting on his shoulder as they both stared sadly at the carved name of her older brother.
The birds that sang happily in the surrounding trees seemed to mock the sad situation in which the Corleone brothers found themselves. At that moment, no words were shared between them, there was nothing that could be said that the other had not thought of. That was perhaps the most curious thing about the two Corleone brothers, a curiosity that only they themselves knew about; both possessed the same darkness.
Gianna was sweet and gentle with anyone who was the same way with her, bestowing nothing but kindness on anyone who deserved it. But she also loved fiercely, and with love always came loyalty. And there was no one she loved more than her family, her devotion to them exceeding many limits even when she didn't want it to be so. There are many occasions when, even when she was young, had to resort to direct action; taking the weapon that his father had hidden in the house to defend her family from small attacks that were organized against them; all this while the men were at war.
All those times where she killed in self-defense, then put away her father's gun once she was done and let the guards (who were supposed to protect them) take the credit; she wiped it off of her hands and sometimes her face the drops of blood that fell on her; neither of those times did she flinch or worry.
Gianna's hands were stained just like her father's and brothers', with the difference that they did not keep these acts a secret by pretending to be completely different people. But the small detail in this is that this way of being was not something that Gianna planned and certainly not something that she noticed as such. Inconsciously she used to responds to violence and attacks at the same way, acting quickly and whitout even flinching.
She used to forget such actions very easily, silently affirming that his family's protection during these attacks were reason enough to expel any sin, and waking up the following mornings as if nothing had happened.
Michael was as gentle as her, always joking with everyone, being respectful and chivalrous. But that had changed a lot, she could see it clearly. Her brother changed a lot after the death of Sonny and Apolonia, she understood it, but she also knew that his new traits; ambition and selfishness would lead him to nothing but bad decisions. Michael had the same loyalty to his family as always and that was the perfect justification for all the dark thoughts and premeditated actions that grew in him. They were innocent? Not at all, but Gianna knew as soon as she met his eyes, his eyes now empty and cold, that he would ruin himself.
______________________________
Gianna was now sitting in the passenger seat as Michael drove his Bugatti toward the family home. She was with the windows rolled down andher head resting on the door as she enjoyed the soft breeze of the wind on her face.
"How is your husband's business?" Michael asked, his gaze still straight ahead.
"He took over all of Sabini's brokers, legalized his business, and has connections to Churchill," Gianna replied in a monotone as she stuck her hand out the window and pretended to make wave shapes, her eyes still closed.
The connection to Churchill and his business was something of great interest to Michael; taking into account that now he had replaced his father's place in the family and the connections that his brother-in-law had were of high importance in future businesses that they planned to carry out "And married life?" I ask.
"Well, let's just say monogamy isn't part of it" she turned her head towards her brother and raised an eyebrow, they both laughed at that. None of them were really loyal to their mates, not even Michael, but how could he? Kay was not Apollonia…
"Your designs?" Michael asked in an attempt to steer the conversation and thus his thoughts in another direction. Gianna was the one who always sewed her outfits when they were younger; He used to leave the battered clothes on a kitchen chair while he attended to other business, and when he returned he would find his outfit in perfect condition and with a note from her telling him how much the thread had increased that week. When they grew up, there were no longer arrangements, but creations, since Gianna designed all the suits for the men in her family; being her father and hers Michael who wore them most proudly.
Gianna sighed, resting her head on the seat and her gaze was lost in the other cars that passed around her "I put it on hold at least for a while" she answered in a low voice. She really hadn't used one bit of her imagination since her brother died. Since his death, all she had done with herself was pace around her little house while she tried to figure out who had arranged her brother's death, all with the few crumbs Michael had given her over the phone. She certainly would never have imagined that Carlo was an accomplice, or well, that was at least what Michael believed.
Carlo was practically disliked by the entire Corleone family, except for Connie. Although Gianna's family was always involved in violent affairs, they all grew up seeing how her parents' relationship was moderately healthy; Carmela was a very submissive woman (a characteristic according to the time) who accepted everything her husband said and never meddled in matters that were not her concern, but despite that, her husband never hit her or spoke wrongly.
Vito Corleone raised all of his children with the teaching that there was nothing more important and of greater value than family; all members of it deserved due respect. That is why Gianna could not understand how her sister allowed herself to be beaten and deceived by who was supposed to love and respect her, after all that was what they swore in the eyes of God and both families.
Now, Gianna knew that her prejudices towards Connie and Carlo's relationship were a complete irony when she looked at what her relationship with Thomas was like; but the difference lay in that from the beginning they had agreed that their relationship was a mere agreement that is supposed to benefit both parties, exclusivity would not be part of their marriage.
"We're going to a charity dinner in a few weeks and Kay wants you to do some alterations to her dress" Michael commented as he parked the car outside the family residence.
"Do you think that's fair?" Gianna asked turning around completely towards him.
"What thing?" her brother asked.
"Kay…you don't love her" she answered softly.
Michael sighed and as Thomas always does with these types of conversations that surely end in some kind of mental release, he took a cigarette. He looked at his sister silently asking her permission to light it, an ancient custom. Gianna nodded and he turned it on as she spoke.
"You don't love the man you married either, Gianna, but you're not a child anymore and you have to stop living in your fantasy life and understand that there are certain things you can't help. Maybe we won't be highborn, sons of some important politician, but we have obligations to fulfill and we must carry them out; what we do are mere commercial agreements"
"At the expense of others? Hurting people who don't deserve it? Kay is a very good women Michael"
"Tell me what you're trying to get at because you know me too well to believe that i could hurt her" she said in an exasperating tone. For both brothers there was never an difficulty when it came to communication; even the looks were enough to understand each other, but Michael knew that the new lifestyle of both of them would surely bring difficulties in many situations and this was one of them. He really did not know where her sister wanted to go and did not have the time or patience for her typical words of calm and love, he was no longer the man who listened to her ramble for hours, happily answering all her questions.
"She will not accept the lifestyle or the man you will become once our father dies. What you need is someone like our mother, who will accompany you in this life without complaining when you are late due to your business and who accepted each of your decisions without complaining about them, someone truly loyal" he replied while moving his hands in an attempt to accentuate his words.
Michael's cigarette, which was lying between his fingers on the ashtray in his car, was going out little by little, because with those words her sister had taken all his attention.
"I need someone to take care of the family business once I die, I trust Kay and I know she will be a good mother to that someone" Michael replied in a dangerously low voice as he forced himself to remain calm.
Gianna laughed, biting her lip between her teeth as she shook her head "You've never been so stubborn, brother."
He gave her the same look of annoyance mixed with amusement "And you've never been so nosy, don't you dare judge my decisions"
At those words, the entire temper of her younger sister transformed. As if a button had been pressed, the young woman stood straighter and tilted her head to one side of her. Gianna, like her mother, enjoyed a certain respect within the family; Her siblings didn't tease her or insulted her like the Shelby siblings did with Ada.
Gianna took on many responsibilities from a very young age and was involved in making many important decisions within her family; who he was and what he did wouldn't be lost to his brother's outbursts. "Don't let your new position cloud your judgment Michael. I'm the only person looking out for you and not my own interests and as if that wasn't enough; the only person who will never betray you" the Bugatti suddenly felt smaller, both brothers giving each other hateful looks for the first time in their lives "My patience has a limit, don't test it" she finished with a grim voice before get off the car.
All Michael did was watch her walk away as he lit another cigarette.
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Hello! you would write to aemond x reader. Where she goes to Storm's End, trading instead of her brother, and instead of asking for Lucerys' eye, Aemond claims her as his wife.
To Have and to Hold
Aemond Targaryen x F!Velaryon (Strong)!Reader
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Warnings: violence, NSFW, incest
Word count: 3583
A.N: Reader is the middle sister of Lucerys and Jacaerys. This is a good old enemies-to-lovers story with a happy ending.
The family was gathered around the painted table. Plans were made and changed and remade altogether in mere seconds, the lords loyal to your mother scrambling to do everything all at once to secure her rightful claim to the throne.
“Send us, mother. Dragons are faster than ravens,” Jacaerys insisted when the matter of reaffirming old oaths came up.
On your mother’s command, he was to fly south and Lucerys was to fly north, to Storm’s End. Luke agreed to the task, yet you could tell his hesitance from the way he tried to conceal his fidgeting. The rattled nerves made him seem smaller than he was as he hunched over, nodding to the duty given to him.
So you stepped up, though only after the meeting was adjourned. Lucerys was too proud to allow what you have intended otherwise, but you were too fond of your baby brother to let him fly through the treacherous weather of the North alone.
“Mother. A word, please?”
Rhaenyra intended Lucerys to familiarize himself with diplomatic duties which were sure to come in waves following her own coronation. Your proposal was compelling nevertheless. Storm’s End was a flight too difficult for your younger brother to make alone, and you as his companion might soothe his nerves and might even compel Lord Borros Baratheon to be kinder to the message you were to deliver.
“Very well, then,” Rhaenyra reluctantly agreed to your proposal but only on the condition that you would go in peace: as envoys and not as warriors.
The flight to Storm’s End was uneventful. With jokes and friendly teasing, it almost felt like your regular flights above the Dragonstone on beautiful mornings and starry nights. Except there was strong wind and downpour all at once, and Lucerys became quieter as you approached your destination.
“Come on, Luke. I will race you to the courtyard!”
Your dragon was older, not big enough on her own to be considered mature yet, but bigger in comparison to Arrax, which made Arrax faster in contrast.
So Luke landed first, and you were mere minutes behind him.
“Well done, brother. You beat me. You shall have my slice of the pie this supper.”
But Lucerys didn’t seem excited about what would make him jump up and down if it were any other time. He didn’t even smile. He was facing his sister with a hand gripping the saddle on Arrax and the other clutching the hilt of his sword, but his young face was contorted in concern as he looked through her. If you hadn’t known him better, you’d almost misread it for fear.
“What is it?” You asked, but Luke only remained motionless, looking beyond to the walls of the keep.
It was then that you saw it in the flash of lightning that lit up the sky for a moment. Vhagar. She was big enough to make the outer walls of the keep seem like miniatures. You gulped, though remained stoic on the outside for the sake of your younger brother. You accompanied him to support him, not to plummet him down into the endless pit of fear. Vhagar meant, however, the Prince you’d rather see the least had beaten you to Lord Borros. You only hoped he was given a chamber of his own, and you’d deliver your message and slip out without ever facing him.
“Come on, Luke. Let us haste. Mother’s expecting us back for supper.”
The dark and empty hall was as hostile as its Lord. And in the corner stood Aemond Targaryen with one of Lord Borros’ daughters. She seemed tense. You could tell, because so were you.
“Come on, Luke.” You nudged your brother, and he held the sealed message out for the guards.
As the Maester to Lord Borros slowly dragged his feet to his master’s seat and relayed the message to him in hushed whispers, your eyes were trained on Aemond’s. He stood tall and proud, looking at you and your brother with disdain in his eyes and disgust in the way his lips curled up.
Luke clutched his sword once again, and you squeezed his shoulder. “Let go of it, brother. Remember your oath to mother.”
With Luke unable to marry, Lord Borros without a son to offer you, and most importantly, with sweet promises laced with poison seeping into his ear all the way from King’s Landing, Borros Baratheon broke his oath. On any other day, you’d remain and quarrel, threaten the Baratheon forces to bend the knee to the true Queen and not to the Usurper King, but on that day, you wished nothing more than to escort your brother out to safety.
“We thank you for your consideration, Lord Borros,” you spoke without reverence. A turncloak deserved only the traitor’s death. But you’d return for it another day.
Meanwhile, Aemond’s gaze burned into the back of your head as you put a hand on Luke’s back to signal him it was way past your time for departure.
“Wait, my Lord and Lady Strong!” Aemond’s humiliating tone echoed off the walls.
“Luke—”
Fiery as ever, Luke shrugged your hand off and turned on his heels to face Aemond.
“Mind your tongue! Apologize to my dear sister right now!”
“Hm. How about you apologize to me for trying to steal my brother’s crown, traitor?”
“I will do no such thing!”
“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor and I will have your eye, bastard.”
Aemond ripped the dagger from its sheath and threw it flying towards Y/N and her older brother.
With each lightning that struck, the sapphire eye in place of the one Luke once slashed out glimmered. It seemed as if it had a mind of its own, no doubt just as vile and dangerous as its owner.
“As payment for mine.”
“No,” Lucerys stood his ground.
Aemond all but jumped forward then, spurred on by the courage of a boy he saw inferior to him in all regards. Lucerys to stand against him, tall and proud, was a massive hit to his pride.
As Aemond picked up his dagger and moved for Lucerys, you stepped in between your brother and uncle.
“NO! No!”
Your intervention caught Aemond by surprise. He was intrigued, amused, even. What a fine, fiery woman his nephew has turned out to be. Shame she was a bastard all the same.
“Please— Aemond. My Prince. Please—”
“What? Do you plead to pitch in?” he stared into Y/N’s eyes then. He was unyielding, unflinching.
“Luke, go. I command you. As your sister, I command you to leave!” You pleaded with Lucerys, but he stood unmoving behind you.
“Lucerys!”
“No…” Aemond was amused. “No, your eyes are of no value to me. I want his eye!”
Luke would have escaped had it not been for his older sister. He would have turned around and made it to his dragon as you demanded. Yet, only a few acts were more loathsome than leaving kin to the wolves. Besides, Rhaenyra would’ve shredded him to bits and fed him to Arrax for all to see.
So Luke kneeled to take the dagger. Aemond’s request was fair after all.
“Perhaps not my eyes,” You spoke hastily with your hand wrapped around Luke’s wrist in an effort to stop him.
“But demand what you deem worthy of me and you shall have it. I beg of you, Aemond. Let my baby brother return to our mother. He came only as an envoy. He means no harm to you.”
“Hm.” He seemed to consider the offer genuinely that time. “As if you could harm me if you tried. Well, it seems the girl has bigger balls than you, bastard. You’re strong only in name, Lord Strong.”
Then he turned his attention back to you with a cruel smirk that pressed his lips into a thin line.
“You would trade your life, no matter how worthless, for your bastard brother?”
“If it is my life you demand, you shall have it. But allow my brother safe passage first.”
It was Lucerys’ turn to protest then, but you took a step forward, hoping that Aemond would be merciful enough to at least spare your brother the grim sight of the execution of his sister.
“I won’t kill you, dear Nephew. Oh, no. That would be entertainment for what? an hour? No, I will marry you,” His eye widened and he grinned as if a child got a platter of cakes and pies all to himself.
“Go on, then, pup,” He nodded to Lucerys pulling at the sleeves of your damp travelling coat, begging you to stop.
“Go with your worthless life and carry the heavy news to your false Queen—that her daughter is to be defiled by Prince Aemond. Perhaps she will be overjoyed to see what true Targaryen offspring looks like.”
You were trembling then. From standing in a stone hall, dripping head to toe from the downpour you have just escaped from, or from the cruel design Aemond has traded you for your brother’s eye, you didn’t know.
Your brother was looking at you incredulously, clutching Aemond’s dagger with his shaking hand.
“Go—go, Lucerys,” you mumbled between shaky breaths that threatened to explode into a sobbing fit. “You’ve heard Prince Aemond. Relay the news to the Queen.”
“Sister—I won’t leave you—”
“How sad,” Aemond spoke joylessly, mocking Luke with his lips downturned in an exaggerated fashion. “Will you cry, pup?”
“Sister, I shall return. I promise—”
“You will do no such thing, Lucerys,” your back was turned to him, your tears concealed from his vision. “Now go.”
“Oh, and I will have this back,” Aemond reached behind Lucerys, tearing the dagger from his hand and sheating it back to its place on his belt.
Aemond took his leave after Lucerys’, all but dragging you to Vhagar. You grappled to reach for your own dragon but to no avail. Aemond’s vice grip would sooner rip your arm from your shoulder before he let you loose.
“Did you think I would let you fly on your own? What do you take me for, a fool?”
“No. You are no fool. But you are a cruel monster.”
It seemed to please him, and he snorted.
 “A monster who is nought but a bully had it not been for his dragon!”
That, however, seemed to have gotten to him. He stopped in his track under the downpour abruptly and struck you across the face. It was your time to grin. For all his quiet mystery, his underbelly was clear as day.
“My Prince forgets who was there on the night he usurped Vhagar from her rightful successors. You were but a scared child who stole what you did not deserve.”
His fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing so tight that your vision soon turned blurry and you gasped desperately, clawing at his on your throat. There was nothing but fury in his eye, wide with surprise that a woman would speak so plainly to him, and red with rage and the rain.
“Speak but another word and I shall send your skull to your whore of a mother!”
He let go and you collapsed to your knees, coughing and gasping for air. Then came waves of hiccups and sobs, not out of fear or misery but out of utter wrath.
“Save your tears. If it is sympathy you hope for, you shall get none from me. You are a foul bastard just like the rest of your brood and you shall be treated as one.”
Deep down, however, the deal he had just struck excited Aemond. His mouth watered at the thought of his reluctant but fiery bride in their marital bed, as they consummated the marriage and repeated the act over and over again until her belly was swollen and ran around the Red Keep children of Aemond’s own.
She was still a filthy bastard in his eye, yet if he had to choose one of his nieces to tolerate, he’d gladly choose Y/N over the others. Back when they all grew up on King’s Landing, he did have a crush on her, after all. Though it was silly, and he ripped the roots of it long ago. At least he thought so.
Something about her dark hair, livelier complexion, and eyes… her eyes. The defiance and pride in them. And she was brave; braver than most, braver than even his drunk, sorry excuse of a brother and father.
Back at King’s Landing, Alicent was rightfully outraged by the turn of events. Of course, you didn’t expect a warm welcome from your mother-in-law, and you didn’t get one.
Most of your days leading up to the wedding were spent in a chamber of your own with your door locked and latched on you and with a Kingsguard standing watch at all times. It was lonely, except for when Aemond came to visit, which he did almost every night.
He sat by the fireplace and you sat on the bed. Though at first not a lot of words were spoken, soon you realized just how much his conversation entertained you, and that you looked forward to his visits.
It was one of those nights that he stopped by with a heavy book under his arm.
“I had the Maester copy this for you,” he spoke dryly, but he had a hint of a self-satisfied smile on his lips.
He set the book down on the table and flipped through the pages.
“If you put your nose to it, you can still smell the ink.”
Aemond didn’t expect you to indulge him the way you did. You walked up to him, and with your cheek to his, joined him in inhaling the scent of ink on parchment pages.
“What is it about? The book?” You asked with genuine interest, flipping through the pages as Aemond pulled away to look at you incredulously. You weren’t resisting him, dismissing him, or threatening him with a slit throat in his sleep as you usually did.
“It’s—it’s on the history of Valyria. This is the first volume of many.”
“Oh, I remember this book.”
“You do?”
“Yes!” You pulled away with a proud smile of your own. For a moment, you looked like two ordinary lovers conversing by the fire, not enemies who supposed to hate each other and about to be united only as torture for one another.
“Remember Aunt Leana’s funeral?”
Of course he did. That was when you mocked Aemond for not being a dragon rider still, and told him the Gods were cruel not to give him the handsome face Aegon was blessed with. How silly were you back then. But how could you know that Aemond would grow up to be the Prince you’d fall for day after day?
“Yes?” he responded warily.
“Well, you were reading this then. I tore a page out, and you were so cross you told on me to my mother,” you giggled, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder before seating yourself by the fireplace.
Aemond smiled as well, approaching his usual seat cautiously as if not to spook a skittish prey. When you nursed your cup of wine without a flinch, he sat by you. Though his face was turned to the fire, he stole quick glances at your face, your neckline revealed by your evening robe, and your delicate, ringed fingers wrapped around the cup.
“Regretfully, you were fluent in High Valyrian back then and I knew very little, and nothing much has changed ever since.”
“Oh,” Aemond caught your eyes, searching for the dark, burning dislike you had for him that he came to expect. Instead your face was relaxed, and your eyes were almost that of a lover’s. Then, you reached for his hand. It must be the wine, Aemond thought. What else?
“You shall have to teach me.”
“I shall arrange the Maester—”
“I asked you, Aemond, not the Maester.”
From then on, Aemond visited you every night without fail. He came earlier and left later into the night. Though he always brought books, parchment and ink, very little High Valyrian was actually studied. His days were eventful and you loved to listen, and he loved the way you reminisced their days of youth.
So, on a night like that, with your hand on his over the table, you spoke the words that almost stopped his heart.
“I wish you would stay the night, Aemond. It gets awfully lonely some nights.”
He blinked a few times, unsure if his ears heard what you spoke, or what he so desperately wished you would.
“It—it would be improper before the wedding.”
“You took me hostage, Aemond. Traditions are obeyed very little in our marriage.”
That night was the first time you called what was slowly blossoming between him and you a marriage. The words you spoke took him by surprise, just as the way you said them—playfully, with no hatred or resentment.
“You offered yourself up. I was content enough having your brother’s eye.” That was Aemond’s attempt at humour in response, a macabre and perhaps a twisted one that would have gotten raise out of any other woman. Yet you only looked at him for a second, then laughed.
“Yet you did not have to lock me up. I would not have run.”
“No, but my brother would have stolen you from me.”
“Oh, surely. Aegon did promise to demonstrate to me… what was it? Real manhood in case you ever failed to do so.”
“He did?” Aemond frowned. Was that what jealousy felt like?
“Mmhm. I told him I was confident you would make a good husband.”
Though the ceremony was mere days away, Aemond was still not used to being called your husband, especially by you, and he barely got used to wearing a band of gold around his ring finger.
“This would be a good time to say that I would make a good wife, as well,” you joked, hoping to pull Aemond out of his moment of silence.
Instead, Aemond stared at you. He was unblinking and impossible to read. Indeed because his face was impossible to read, it came to you as a surprise when he closed the distance between you and himself and locked his lips with yours.
It was gentle, way gentler than you assumed Aemond was capable of. When he pulled back just enough to study your face, you only whispered “Do it again.”
The caution and restraint went out the window then. His tongue danced across yours and you gripped each other desperately, pulling at your clothes and moaning your names.
Aemond ended up not only staying the night as you asked but consummating your marriage even before the ceremony itself.
It was gentle and cautious at first, but only briefly, before baser and more primal urges overtook you both. You woke up in Aemond’s arms with a dull but sweet ache between your legs and marks in the shape of his mouth and fingers all over your body. Likewise, Aemond woke up with raw lines of skin where your nails had dug into his flesh.
You took your bath together, and Aemond postponed his sword practice for a private noon at the library with you. Though it came as a surprise to neither of you that there was more kissing and touching than reading.
Then, things changed rapidly. Your door was no longer locked, though that might very well be because you all but moved into Aemond’s quarters. You became inseparable. You were there with a book or your embroidery when Aemond trained, you flew together, broke fast and had supper together in his bedchamber.
The only time you regretfully parted was when Alicent—who also surprisingly became like a mother to you, and you a daughter to her— insisted that your fitting for the wedding gown must be kept private and away from the prying eye of the groom. It was bad luck, she insisted, if Aemond saw you in your gown before the ceremony.
“And have you asked mother and the Septa if it is good luck or bad if I have you in your gown?” Aemond teased you, making you blush whenever his words came back to you as the tailors worked ceaselessly to finish the dress before the ceremony.
Neither of you could say if it was indeed bad luck or not, but you found out that it was delightful when Aemond lifted your heavy skirt up and snuck between your legs on your wedding night. He had you in it, just as he promised. Though it was a shame that he grew too impatient to undo the ribbons and laces, so he instead tore and ripped the dress apart, leaving it as a cut of tattered, expensive silk on the floor as the night went on.
You saw the sorry state of the dress in the morning. Well, as much of it as you could see from Aemond’s arms around you, keeping you flush on his body.
“Aemond! You shall never see me wear a lovely dress as this once was for you again!” 
“My sweet wife, you should not wear anything for me,” Aemond whispered groggily, still in the sweet clutches of slumber, and he pulled you for a kiss that promised you would not be leaving his bedchamber for the day.
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Everyone, looking for Aegon to crown as King:
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Meanwhile, Aemond:
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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The real ones
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Chapter 6:
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Masterlist.
<Chapter 5 | Chapter 7>
Warnings: Mention of a death. There are phrases in Italian and i don't speak this language, so let me know if there are any mistakes in the words.
Gianna was in the small house Thomas had bought for her in a quaint London neighborhood a week ago, drawing various clothed figures while constantly letting out the occasional smile. Thomas would seen Grace that very night and if she was lucky, in just a few months she would become his ex-wife and be free of her new lifestyle.
So Gianna, who was now humming a 1913 Charles Harrison song, headed into the kitchen and uncorked the bottle of Champagne she'd bought that afternoon in celebration, pouring it into the only glass she had in the house.
She was about to take a sip when suddenly the doorbell rang, making her frown; she wasn't expecting anyone at this time of night. She stopped her work, put the glass on a table and took the revolver that Thomas bought her and recommended that she always carry with her. But she was highly surprised to see that it was Thomas behind the door. She put the gun away again and opened the door for him, her face clearly disappointed to see him "I was very happy not to see your face today Mr. Shelby, you ruined my night"
He looked her straight in the eye "Can I come in?" he ask.
Gianna looked him up and down and stepped aside, closing the door behind him.
"I didn't think of you as a messy woman" he declared looking at the oil paintings, drawings, fabrics and clay scattered around the room.
"I wasn't expecting visitors, it's not like I ordered just for you" she said shrugging her arms as she sat on the couch, her legs folded under her "What did you come for?" she was straight to the point.
Thomas sighed and pulled a red chair in front of Gianna, sitting on it as he took a deep breath, her blue eyes focused on the wooden floor, thinking about the best way to iniciate the conversation "I got a call a few hours ago."
Gianna was confused by the mystery that surrounded him and despite not having enough patience today to hear it, she waited; he might have had something important to tell her about the whole Campbell thing or the Jews.
"It was your brother, Tom" he said, this time his gaze going back to the always warm green eyes of his wife.
A chill enveloped her; What if his father was attacked again? What if this time he couldn't save himself and she couldn't tell him one last time that she loved him and she meant everything she told him at her wedding?
"Your brother Sonny was ambushed…he died in the morning" he said softly as he waited for his wife's reaction. In the call he received, Tom Hagen asked that he please break the news to the younger Corleone. He asked her to be with her at the time of telling her, because Sonny was the one who accompanied her the most and protected her when she was a child.
Thomas expected the same rocky reaction from her or even to see her break down in tears, so he was highly surprised to receive a hard slap on the left cheek from her, almost making him fall from the chair he was sitting on. He turned his face towards her, incredulous at the unexpected gesture but still forcing himself to look strong and carefree, he didn't know what it was like to lose a brother but he didn't think it was easy, especially considering how close they were compared to him and his brothers.
"Maledetto bugiardo (Damn liar)" Gianna said getting up and stomping towards the front door.
"Gianna" Thomas said from behind her, watching her run outside in just a sundress and no shoes.
She didn't hear him, her first thought was to believe that Thomas was lying to her, but what would he get out of it? Nothing. So slowly that idea went out of her head as she was being consumed by hate and resentment, because who ambushed her brother? For what? Whoever he was must suffer the same end as him. Her brother may have been an impulsive idiot but he never hurt innocent people, he didn't have that evil in him.
Gianna went to the pay phone that what was on the sidewalk and asked the operator to connect her to her brother's number. Gianna didn't have a phone at her house; she had refused to have one, saying that it would be a place to spend quietly and not to have her phone ringing for the sole purpose of interrupting her, now she regretted it.
After a few seconds, there it was, her brother's breath on the other end of the line "Chi (Who)?" she asked
"Carlo lo ha guidato da qualcuno, non so ancora chi. Lo scoprirò, non preoccuparti (Carlo guided him to someone, I don't know who yet. I'll figure it out, don't worry)"
With that, Gianna hung up and headed back to the house, Thomas again following behind her. He didn't say anything at any time; he didn't know what to do. They didn't have the trust or affection enough to stay with her and keep her company, but he would be lying saying that he didn't feel sorry for her. The woman had lived with him for weeks, she visited him in his office almost every day with the sole purpose of annoying him with her presence, which in the end turned out to be pleasant. And she also gave him good advice regarding Arthur, Solomons and Sabini.
After Thomas closed the door, she hurried over to him and took the cigarettes and matches from his pocket, lighting one and sitting back on the couch "Call someone, have a phone installed here tomorrow" smoke escaping her lips with each word.
"They'll have it ready for the afternoon" he said watching Gianna smoke with all of her precious fabrics around her.
"What happened to the woman you were going to see today, Grace?" She ask with a frown.
Thomas was not surprised that she knew that information "I took her to her house after your brother called"
Gianna nodded, her gaze traveling to the stains on the floor, why hadn't she noticed them before? Why had her stupid sister married Carlo? Her brother would take care of it eventually, trusting that he wouldn't leave the matter unfinished. After the attack on his father, Michael had changed enormously. He stopped being that young man who stayed away from the family businesses and the entire managerial world that accompanied him to earn a reputation for cruelty greater than anyone who knew him imagined. She was confident that the murder of her older brother would not go unpunished as long as Michael and Gianna lived.
Gianna stood up abruptly, making her dizzy for a few seconds. When she finally pulled herself together, she turned to the man who was standing awkwardly in her living room "You already told me what you need, you can go or sleep on the couch if you prefer, but there had better be another pack of cigarettes on my table in the morning tomorrow" she said as she went to her room, softly closing the door behind her.
That night, she couldn't stop herself from crying till the sun comes out. Wishing to see her brother just a last time.
_________________
Tom's call to Thomas came before he and Grace went to see Chaplin, so there will be no future Charlie.
_________________
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Chapter 1:
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Masterlist.
<Prologue | Chapter 2>
Lyanna had been forced to leave her ship, so she was now flying long commercial flights with fake IDs and various alterations to her appearance. She was now on Tatooine, in a filthy seedy bar, because she'd felt a pull from the force that took her straight to that outer rim planet.
She had been there maybe 5 days, tired of not finding the reason that brought her there in the first place, almost giving up. But then she felt it again.
She slowly stood up from the small table she was sitting at, heading for the exit as she dodged drunks partying and others fighting, her spochka and food abandoned behind her. Her strength guided her to the back of the bar, where there was a little boy just like Yoda. He cooed at her, raising her small hands as a sign that he wanted to be lifted and she certainly wasted no time doing so. The boy leaned warmly on her chest as he closed his eyes, surely the force had guided him to that empty and dirty place that was the back of the bar, feeling comforted to find someone just like her.
Lyanna had been looking for and taking children to the new Jedi Temple for a long time, finding children of all ages and races, but it was very special for her to see, after so long, a specimen equal to Yoda, who joined the list of terribly painful losses that she suffered.
Lyanna, who was so intent on stroking the boy's back, heard footsteps to her left. She turned quickly to see three men with blasters in their hands, making her clutch the boy tighter in her arms.
"That reward is ours, give it to us and you won't get hurt" declared one of them with a macabre smile on his face while the others surrounded her. Jedi Hunters. Lyanna hated them; they mostly caught children, as there was (technically) only one Jedi alive. She wasted no time and mentally turned the blasters of each of them towards their chests, shooting and killing them on the spot, just to see another man come out from behind a small house, also aiming at her.
Lyanna was about to use the force again to kill this man in the same way as the previous ones, when a blaster wound hit his chest, coming from behind him. The man fell slowly to the ground, allowing her to see that whoever had shot him was none other than a Mandalorian. She had only met one of them in her life and she never thought she hated someone as much as him, so she didn't have much confidence in this new Mandalorian in front of her.
The Mandalorian pointed his blaster at her, surely about to shoot the other enemy when the boy in her arms started screaming desperately at him, then clumsily tried to wrap her short arms around her.
The Mandalorian paid attention for the first time to the bodies scattered around the mysterious woman and turned his gaze from her to the child who was clinging desperately to her, while her little screams pierced his ears even under his helmet. He then pointed at the bodies with his blaster "You killed them?" he ask.
Lyanna nodded in response as she rubbed the boy's small back in an attempt to get him to calm down and stop screaming.
"Why?" he seriously ask.
Lyanna snorted, as if the answer wasn't stupidly obvious. "Because they wanted to kill the child, someone like that doesn't deserve to survive," she said with anger in her voice. She had unfortunately witnessed the death of many children, the extermination of entire villages. She had even blamed herself for most of them; it was impossible to understand how a person as important as her, with so much power and influence, had not been able to protect the lives not only of innocent people, outside her fight, but also of the most loved people in her life.
The Mandalorian hesitated, but slowly lowered his blaster. The little boy stopped crying at the same time he relaxed his fighting pose, smiling at him.
"It's yours?" Lyanna asked.
The Mandalorian nodded "I've been taking care of him until reuniting him with his kind or finding him a safe place" he said as he approached her and gently took the child from her arms, checking him to verify that he was alright. He then looked around her before his gaze locked on her again "Thanks, by the way, he runs away a lot, sometimes it's hard to keep track of him" he confesses.
Lyanna caressed the boy's cheek, receiving a coo in response. She couldn't abandon him, but she didn't want to get in the Mandalorian's way either.
From a young age she could see the potential in people, giving them little help so that they can grow in the field in which they stood out the most. Zareen was a great example of this; she met her when she visited an orphanage on Naboo. The little girl kept asking her questions about politics and discussing with her other ideas she had heard from older people. And after a couple more visits, Lyanna opted to pay for her studies at the best schools. Her help clearly paid off, because Zareen was chosen as queen when Lyanna abandoned her position.
An equal potential she saw in the Mandalorian. She knew that she couldn't help him the way she had helped people in the past, but being by his side and seeing him reach his full potential while she stayed close to the boy seemed like the best idea. After all, she had no home to return to.
"I'll go with you" she stated as she took her gaze from the green boy to look at the Mandalorian, only to find him already looking at her "Sure, if you'll let me" Despite wearing a helmet, she could feel his doubt "It would be for the best; you can work freely without worrying about the child and I will take care of him for you when you need it, I will help you keep him safe"
The Mandalorian shook his head, clearly reluctant to the idea "I just met you. I don't know if you can be trusted."
He had a good point there, a very good one. Lyanna nodded to the green boy, who had been looking at her without batting an eye "How many people has he met so far? In the time you've had him with you" she asks.
"Many" he admitted doubtfully.
"And how many have he trusted?"
"None" he replied frowning under his helmet
Lyanna smiled "And yet" she opened her arms to the boy, and he began to move desperately in the man's grasp to reach her, so he let go of him and handed him over "He looks very happy with me" she told him.
She smiled as she caressed the boy's cheeks, who smiled at her. The images of Yoda did not leave her mind. That man who advice her and used to hit her with his cane everytime she mistaked. He was not only good, but he was strong, one of the best Jedi she would ever meet, one she missed the most. Lyanna's melancholy train of thought was interrupted when the Mandalorian sighed, drawing her and the boy's attention.
"How much credits do you want?" He ask putting his hands on his hips. He could really use some help regarding the child; it hadn't been long since they started traveling, but the boy had already made more than one mess when he was left unattended. It would be good to have someone to take care of him when he had to do a mission, especially if this person knew how to fight, something she clearly demonstrate; he didn't need a load.
"What are you traveling on?" she asks.
"On my Razor Crest?"
"Pre-empire?" Lyanna asked. She had been staying out of the eye of the New Republic, mainly her sister, so traveling on a pre-empire ship, like the one she had, seemed like a once-in-a-galaxy opportunity.
"Yes"
Lyanna smiled even more "Then a place to sleep is enough" She extended her hand towards him "I'm Lya"
And so, their adventure began.
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Chapter 5:
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Masterlist.
<Chapter 4 | Chapter 6>
A/N: I hadn't noticed that been days without updating, any way, I plan to upload two more chapters this week. Is in the 6 that things are going to be more excited, I just wanted to put some Gianna's relathionships in order for a better background.
Warnings: This chapter is a bit long. There are phrases in Italian and i don't speak this language, so let me know if there are any mistakes in the words.
"Sono passati mesi Gianna, sei andata dal dottore? dovresti essere incinta ormai (It's been months, Gianna, did you go to the doctor? You should be pregnant by now)" Carmela Corleone's voice was so loud that Gianna had to move the phone away from her ear a little so it wouldn't hurt. Gianna and her mother had been talking about an hour ago; a whole hour full of scolding, for her mother had gotten so tired of not getting an answer on the Shelby Family phone in weeks, that she called her son-in-law's office and begged him to let her talk to her daughter. Thomas, who promised to call her back, called Gianna at her office not long after and put her mother on her phone, leaving her with the excuse of an important meeting somewhere else.
When Gianna stopped hearing her mother's voice, she put the phone back to her ear and answered "I know, mamma, don't worry. A few weeks ago we started trying with Thomas and you'll be the first to know, you don't have to worry about it" a true lie, since they didn't even sleep in the same room.
Her mother sighed loudly through the line "Okay, I'll pass the phone to your brother and you better get pregnant soon Gianna, children are the most important thing in a marriage, they are blessings from God."
Both Sonny's and Connie's marriages were "blessed" as her mother called it, just a few months after they were married. Gianna not only came from a large family, but as a child she also used to hear many men tell her brothers that they should look for women with wide hips; because this was better at the time of procreation. Having many children was something common in her family and it was what her mother expected the most from her; for she believed that she would give him a reason to focus on something other than her own interests.
"That's what you get for not answering her calls," Michael says with a laugh through the phone.
"Answer her sooner or later it doesn't matter, she wants grandkids" she replied as she absentmindedly wrapped the phone cord around her finger and sat down on the leather seat behind Thomas's desk.
Michael sighed "Wait a second, I'll call you from the company phone" he said in a low voice, because he wanted to give her sister a temporary option for her little problem, which required getting a little out of earshot his family.
Gianna hung up the phone and began to look around as she waited for her brother to call. Thomas's office was very different from his father's, which had several family photos on his desk and some paintings that had been given to him over the years, with a cream-colored wallpaper. While Thomas's office was filled with pictures of horses and trophies of races won, two very expensive telephones and leatherette seats straight from the United States. The black phone on Thomas's desk, a gold-trimmed wedding present, rang again and Gianna picked it up.
"Will you help your little sister?" Gianna asked with a smile on her face.
Michael sighed "I can give you a temporary option, but with a high price"
Gianna frowned "You know that money is not a problem" she says, curious about that option that her brother hadn't given her yet but it sounded not so simple.
"The payment is not money, but the feelings of our mother"
Gianna passed her hand all over her face, taking the phone away from her for a few seconds. It was an idea that she herself had considered thousands of times, but it went beyond her values ​​and, definitely, it didn't go with who she was "I think I don't like your idea Michael"
"Me neither, but you will get our mother off your back for a few weeks. That is, you will have to find a solution soon or decide if you want to be a mother in the future, our mother will not wait forever"
Gianna was about to answer her brother when Thomas walked in, Lizzie behind him with papers in hand. "Thomas è entrato in ufficio, ti chiamo più tardi, mando il mio affetto a tutti (Thomas entered the office, I'll call you later, send my love to everyone)" she said hanging up the phone.
She exaggeratedly opened her arms in welcome "Husband" Gianna said happily, still sitting in his chair.
"Wife" Thomas said in a monotone voice as he walked over to the bar he had there and poured himself a glass of whiskey, Lizzie slamming the door behind her. Thomas, glass in hand, took a seat in one of the armchairs across from his desk as he unbuttoned his jacket.
Lizzie walked over to them and handed Thomas the stack of papers he had in his hand "Thanks Lizzie" he said taking the papers and placing them in front of him on his desk.
Lizzie crossed her arms, looking between them. Thomas, who hadn't had a good night or a good morning, wasn't in the mood for another rudeness from his secretary. Unnecessary rudeness for others, because their relationship was nothing more than sexual. Thomas trusted Lizzie and she had earned, through all those sleepless nights and boring afternoons, enough appreciation to give her a job at her growing company just so she could quit the job she had. Other people would have kicked her out, Thomas instead heard every word and angry insults from her, absorbing all of her and letting go as soon as they had sex or he smoked a cigarette.
"It's funny" said Lizzie "I've never seen him let anyone sit behind the desk"
"No, he usually bends people over it" Gianna replied.
Thomas's gaze, previously focused on his glass, shifted from his wife to his mistress. Lizzie was clearly very furious, while Gianna looked unconcerned. He had already been present during this type of fight between them; bored with the same situation, but often entertained by their witty comments. It seemed that both women only fought at specific times and usually with sarcastic comments or double meanings, all of them started by Lizzie and ended by Gianna, like now.
Gianna leaned across the table to grab the papers Thomas was about to reach, causing him to freeze on the spot for a few seconds and snap back, sighing in exasperation as he pulled a cigarette and match from his inner pocket, asking Lizzie to get him a coffee. She stomped off cursing them under her breath.
"May I?" Thomas asked his wife with cigarette in hand pointing to her dress; a new habit acquired since she wouldn't let him light her cigarette in her presence, because she said that the smell would stick to her dresses, which were her newest designs. It was better to ask her than to light it and have her take it out of his mouth.
Gianna had just opened a letter, tossing the envelope onto the desk as she read what it said "It's your office, you can do whatever you want"
He smiled, his cigarette trailing from both corners of his mouth until he finally lit it "Anything interest?" He threw his box of matches next to the phone.
"Invitations, congratulations…" she tossed the papers in front of him so he could read them, bored to see nothing interesting.
"Do you trust Solomons after what happened?" she asks.
"I don't trust anyone"
"Well, it doesn't seem like it, you thought Campbell would keep his word and I think the bruises on my face are proof enough that he lied"
Thomas, who had been looking at his hand, looked at the face of his wife; whose bruises were slowly fading. She was right; the night he stayed with May Carleton she was on her way to the Small Heath residence when she was thrown into an alley and beaten up, the most noticeable blows being on her arm, next to her mouth and in her hairline.
Thomas looked into her eyes for the first time since the morning "He'll pay for it"
"I know" she whispered. Gianna still remembers that morning after she was beaten up in the alley on Small Heath. Polly had healed her face as best she could while Esme bandaged her arm. When Thomas entered the betting house, where everyone was gathered, he stopped for a few seconds to analyze those marks on her face and then turned to John. In his eyes was a silent promise to hit them back with the same blow; because whether they wanted to or not, Gianna was now a Shelby and the consequences of hurting her were the same for her as for any other member of the family.
Despite there still being some dislike between them, their moments together became a little more bearable. Their silences were no longer awkward and they were even able to have an entire conversation without him sighing from exhaustion at her comments or gestures, or her ignoring him and insulting him in Italian. They had definitely made a breakthrough so far in the last few weeks, even though this greatly surprised Thomas; the whole business with Campbell, Sabini, Solomons and the constant letters written and then burned to Grace seemed to leave no room for anything else in his life. But Gianna made sure to make room for herself by invading constantly his personal space, not caring all those times that he tried to push her away.
"What did your mother wanted?" Thomas asked changing the subject. Not having been able to prevent everything that happened to his family in the last week had made him see, once again, that he was still someone that people didn't take seriously. A puppet that they believed they could use whenever they wanted, making him feel unable to control what was happening around him and he would not let them think of him that way again.
Gianna sighed as she kicked off her black heels and walked over to Thomas's bar, taking the box of chocolates she bought and left there when she arrived at his office that morning. She offered some to Thomas as she passed, he just move his hand as a no and she settled back down, this time on her side, with her legs on her right armrest.
"She wanted to know if I was already pregnant" Gianna raised both eyebrows, taking a chocolate with mint flavor.
Thomas laughed "Perhaps one of yours adventures will make her happy" he said as a joke, because he knew of her constant adventures in and out the city.
Gianna used to leave the house in the morning and not return until the following afternoon; she will spend her nights with a famous liquor company owner, not far from where he used to meet May Carleton.
"Don't be funny" she said throwing a paper of one of the chocolates in his face "I have expectations to fulfill, fake marriage or not. But it doesn't matter, there are more important things to take care of; what will you do with Russell?"
Thomas finished his whiskey in a big sip "I'm still gathering information, but you'll find out when the decision is made; considering that you have people around me in charge of following every step I take"
Gianna stood up abruptly from the chair, making it turn at least 2 times and put on her heels "I must spend the money that you obligatorily deposit for me in a bank account. I am sorry that it is so that I can know what is happening around you, but it wouldn't be a necessity if you deigned to tell me the things that you signed in the damn contract on our wedding day" she said walking away angrily. It didn't bother her so much that Thomas didn't tell her things, it was something she expected at least for the first few months; the mistrust between the two was mutual and would be difficult to win. But it was something Gianna hoped she wouldn't get used to with important matters. Especially considering that he was a very trouble-prone man.
Thomas smiled at her clear annoyance. Despite being mostly a stoic person, she used to get annoyed with him very easily and had no qualms about showing it to him; usually answering him in what he thought were insults in Italian or throwing away all his cigarettes and whiskey once he got home "We were having a good conversation" he told Gianna that she was already heading for the door.
"I didn't ask you," she yelled back as she walked past Lizzie, taking the coffee she had in hand and throwing it into one of the trash cans as she passed.
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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me and my daddy issues are watching how Viserys protects his daughter to the last breath:
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"The Mandalorian" Masterlist
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The Jedi Way (Ongoing):
Summary: After Lyanna Skywalker knew the path of happiness, sadness and glory, she decided to abandon everything she had to find her own way, away from everything she had. It is there that she will meet a Mandalorian, helping him on his own path to greatness. All this, without him to know that he had by his side one of the most respected and feared women in the galaxy; a commander, general and ex-Jedi Master.
Prologue.
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2 (soon).
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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The Jedi Way.
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Masterlist.
Chapter 1>>
Din Djarin x female jedi oc.
A/N: While I was writing "Arranged Marriage" I couldn't get this idea out of my head, which was giving me writer's block. So I decided I better write both at the same time ;)
Warnings: In this prologue the death of several characters is mentioned, in addition this fic will contain spoilers of the series "The Mandalorian" in case you have not seen it.
Prologue:
Lyanna Skywalker could safely say that her life used to be perfect. She was lucky to have been born on one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy and proud to have been chosen as its queen at the age of 14. Besides, she had married the prince of Alderaan, Baelor Organa, with whom she had two sons; Killian and Cassian. But all her happiness, like her reign, was short-lived. Her husband and her children died on Alderaan the day the planet exploded, causing her to abandon her position as queen to make room for a new one and join the Rebel Alliance in a more physical way in their fight against the Empire.
In her time as a rebel she held various positions. She was a rescuer of those people who were kidnapped, mostly from Naboo, she led attacks on different Imperial bases as Commander of the Red Squadron, protected the spies of the rebellion and taught people to fight, all this while eliminating any clues about the rebellion that included the name of her planet. She was so influential throughout this period and won so many titles, that in the end she gained great renown among supporters of the cause.
But there was some light, because it was in this period that she found out about the truth about her family. She knew from a very young age that her parents were not those who had raised her, hearing countless stories of her biological parents, as these were given to her by Ben Kenobi in person that time he went to visit her in Naboo. But having gained a brother and a sister, after such painful losses, brought to her life a happiness that she never thought she would feel again.
At the same time as her brother Luke, she was trained by Yoda on her path as a Jedi Knight, fighting side by side with her brother to bring an end to the Empire, all while constantly fighting to bring their father back from the dark side of the force. But Yoda did not really want to teach her to be a Jedi, he felt in her more power than he felt in Anakin Skywalker, but closer to the light than to the darkness, only for the love towards her siblings and deceased children. That is what made him refuse to teach her, those relationships that she had formed made it difficult to follow that path without getting lost in it, having as a consequence to suffer the same fate as her father. But as Obi-wan said, only a Jedi would bring back the peace and balance that existed before. And so, Yoda accepted.
Then, after Lyannna had helped her sister lay the foundations for the New Republic and trained more younglings in her Jedi way, she began to feel the force growing stronger in her. Her worst fear was ending up like her father. He was an exceptional young man with strength, but his weaknesses made him lose himself to the dark side, losing everything and everyone he loved and being responsible for thousands of deaths around the galaxy. So, to the chagrin of her siblings and all those who knew her, Lyanna Skywalker relinquished all her titles and after painfully handing over her lightsaber, the one that used to be her father's, walked away from everyone she knew and love to travel the galaxy in search of her own way. But she certainly didn't expect that purpose to be a Mandalorian and a little boy just like Yoda.
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Me:
Me: Reads hundreds of Mandalorian x reader fanfics
Also me: Accidentally learns Mando’a
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THE GODFATHER 1972 | dir. Francis Ford Coppola
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nurbanu22 · 2 years
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Chapter 4:
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Masterlist.
<Chapter 3 | Chapter 5>
The first few weeks at the Shelby house were… terrible. Her now new husband was never home, which was expected, Arthur and John came back only at night and Finn wasn't interested enough in her to start a conversation, he was always running around and the only times when What they talked about is when he thanked her for the lunches she prepared for him.
With the women of the family the situation was very different; Polly kept looking at Gianna with disapproval, she saw Ada very few times and in all of them they treated each other pleasantly, she usually went to visit with little Karl. Besides, it was obvious that Lizzie couldn't stand to see her, understandable considering that Gianna was the wife and Lizzie was the lover.
Esme, on the other hand, could be said to be the only one with whom she got along moderately well. The young gypsy woman not only had to deal with the children of her now husband, but also with an advanced pregnancy and Gianna saw this as an opportunity, so she intervened. She took care of John's children when none of them were home, helping them with their homework and making sure they spent enough energy during the day to sleep through the night. Although she knew that Esme was the least favorite of all, it was still family and winning her over also meant that good comments would be given to the Lee about their good treatment, maybe in the future it would be good to have some people with gypsy magic among her contacts.
Also, Gianna had always been used to a different lifestyle than the one she now led in the Shelby household. Although her father always made sure that the wealth they possessed did not make them have selfish or superior thoughts, she enjoyed certain comforts that her father took care of giving all her children from the day she they were born. Like her bed, for example, Gianna's bed was huge, with a well-padded mattress and a feather-filled pillow, sheets and soft and warm blankets that helped to pass the terrible cold that in the United States it was. In addition, adorned with a pearl-colored canopy, without a doubt, everyone's dream bed.
She knew that she should not complain, since she was a child she was taught that not all people had the same privileges as her, that she should appreciate and take care of what she had. Thousands of people around the world slept on the floor, giving thanks when one of those nights they managed to find a place to sleep with a roof over their heads. Undoubtedly she would trade her place with one of those people. The bed Thomas gave her, with new sheets and pillows, was the most uncomfortable thing she had ever tasted in her life. Her back wouldn't stop hurting and her dream was clearly not the same as before.
Her life was now completely different from anything she had ever dreamed of. The gray of the polluted sky of Small Heath did not compare to the blue skies that she used to paint, the house in which she now lived, full of dull colours, creaking boards and discarded tapestry, did not compare to the house of dreams her; a small house with large windows, white walls and a garden full of flowers.
But there was something good in all this, at some point, that woman that Thomas Shelby loved, would return to his life, giving to Gianna the opportunity to achieve everything she ever wanted.
______________________________
At this moment, Gianna was changing in the room to start her morning, when Thomas entered.
She was about to put on her shirt when he interrupted without knocking, not even caring about her state of undress, just closing the door behind him and standing there smoking his cigarette, staring out the dirty window next to her.
Gianna groaned in disgust at the terrible smell in the room, covering the lavender perfume that she was in charge of spraying before "Could you turn that off? I had a hard time getting the cigarette smell out of the room" she said as she put her arm in her sleeve right of a cream-colored shirt.
Thomas raised both eyebrows and reluctantly tossed the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it until it went out. He straightened up and put both hands in his pockets as he watched his new wife button her shirt in front of the mirror, a mirror he bought just for her after his drunken brothers sang to him a list of the things they believed essential for women. Surprised that there were really coherent elements there "What will you do today?" he asked.
Gianna didn't look away from her reflection to answer "I'm going to buy some gifts, why?"
"I need you to help out at the betting house, only Lizzie and Polly will be there, and since you know accounting…"
Giana straightened her skirt and nodded at him, then she took her bag and went to the door. Before leaving, Thomas asked her where she was going, Gianna looked at him with false disbelief "To buy, I told you I would" she smiled.
Thomas nodded looking at the unlit cigarette on the floor, then her gaze fell on it "And the betting house?"
"I'll go after shopping" Gianna also looked at the floor, pointing to the cigarette and then to Thomas "And you better clean that before it leaves a stain" she said before leaving the room and softly closing the door.
______________________________
A few hours later, after Gianna had wrapped all the presents, she was on her way to the betting shop. Upon arrival, the men waiting outside looked at her from head to toe without saying a word and upon entering she was greeted by Lizzie, who was sitting on a bench with papers around her, she made an annoyed face as soon as she saw her and looked down at her with a big sigh.
"Good morning Lizzie," Gianna greeted her as she put her coat on a hanger by the door.
Lizzie ignored her, she did not hate Gianna, but for her it was a great annoyance to be Thomas's lover and especially when she did not oppose any resistance to being one. She only envied that the rich young woman in front of her, had by her side the man that she begun to love, even if it was for convenience.
Gianna paced the room, her eyes searching for Polly "And Polly?" she ask to Lizzie.
"I'm sure she'll be late, yesterday she stayed longer in the pub" Lizzie said as she stood up and took 2 books along with several bundles of money, throwing them on the end of the table and speaking out loud "Count this and write it down" she exclaimed as sat back down.
Gianna sat at the end of the table and silently she began to count all the money, writing it down and piling it up as she finished counting each bundle, all of them with a piece of paper specifying her date.
Meanwhile, Gianna's curious gaze constantly traveled to Lizzie's form whenever she got up to do something, just when she was sure she wasn't in danger of being caught by her prying eyes. She was truly beautiful, Gianna could tell she easily understood why Thomas spent most nights with her. The height of the woman was really enviable, she had beautiful blue eyes, a sharp jaw and a typical nose that every artist used to sculpt. Not forgetting her voice, that accent she had was the kind one would want to hear for the rest of her life and, despite the clear distaste the beautiful woman felt for her, she could tell from everything she'd been told, that the balance between Lizzie's beauty and personality were equally balanced. Of course it was a balance that she would never see, because from the mouth of that beautiful woman only sarcastic words came out in her presence.
An hour later, just as Lizzie had predicted, Polly came briskly. She walked past the table the two girls had been at since they'd arrived without looking at Gianna and returned with a bottle of whiskey, poured herself a long drink, then grabbed a cigarette, getting angry as soon as she realized she didn't have any lighter "Bloody-, fuck, fuck" she snapped as she continued desperately searching her pockets.
Lizzie was looking for some matches that she had in her purse when Gianna went ahead of her and took the lighter that she had kept in her skirt, a golden one carved with details of flowers and suns, she held it out to Polly with her left hand while writing with the other in the the account book.
Polly gave her a suspicious look and she took it "I thought you didn't smoke" she said lighting her cigarette.
Lizzie, who was looking at the whole situation, violently took her hand out of her pocket and stretched it on the account book in front of her, the noise that the tapping of her red nails made was the only thing that filled the room, besides the Polly's desperate aspirations and the murmurs of the men outside.
"I don't, but everyone smokes so it's good to have a lighter for these situations" Gianna answered as she took the lighter as Polly handed it back to her and put it back in her pocket.
"You're always ready, didn´t?" Lizzie asked sarcastically as she leaned back in her chair.
"Yes, we should all be, don't you think? Sometimes life presents us with inconvenient situations and being prepared helps you not to look like a complete inept" Gianna answered without even looking at her face.
Lizzie opened her mouth, sure to make a clever reply, but she stopped as soon as the men outside started pounding on the door, for it was about the betting house opening hour.
"I swear they become more animals every fucking day" Polly commented with annoyance as she went to open the door, carelessly tossing her cigarette into a trash can. Meanwhile, Lizzie and Gianna opted to keep the ledgers and money instead of going through with what would probably have ended in a smart-talk fight.
______________________________
After a few grueling hours of men yelling and spitting non-stop, they had finally left the betting shop, Lizzie leaving at the same time as them for personal problems, as she called them, leaving Gianna alone with Polly, who had started sweeping up the whole place approximately 5 minutes ago, in which she did not stop feeling a pair of eyes burning the back of her neck, she was grateful to be a frontal person.
"You know, Polly? If you don't stop looking at me like that you could give me the evil eye" the younger one let out, who left the broom next to her and leaned on a shelf. Her first instinct told her to cross her arms, but she preferred to place them at her sides, showing a more open and relaxed posture than what would probably be a not very pleasant discussion. Also, Gianna decided to add a soft smile to her face before speaking again "I don't want to get a bad headache later, so why don't you ask or say what's on your mind?" she declared.
Polly, who had been leaning against the bars overlooking the safe, a cigarette between her fingers, looked at her nephew's new wife with a slight smile, a little more false than that of the girl in front of her.
While Gianna wasn't intimidated by her, she could safely tell that the grown woman looked into her soul and that there was no secret she could keep from her, that she would know everything. Maybe it was her gypsy blood or her intelligence, but Gianna wasn't stupid. She knew that Polly Gray was not a person to be underestimated and that the time she spent with Thomas, which she hoped would be short, would be easy with Polly Gray on her side.
After a few minutes of a harsh exchange of glances, Polly stubbed out her cigarette on one of the bars and spoke. "I don't trust you," she stated as she straightened up and crossed her arms.
Gianna nodded. "In what ways?" She ask.
Polly answered coldly, "All of them. These days the rich girls follow Thomas like a bee to honey and you don't seem much different. You sleep there in that dusty room and wake up every morning with that stupid smile you have on your face right now. Surely judging from the lifestyle we have, looking at us from the sidelines… I trust Thomas and his-" Polly paused as she thought of the next word "well, his greed" she cocked her head "I know he will get this family out of this filthy life and make our name big, and considering who you are, you'll want to make some big deal with someone, bringing us all down." Polly finished, hissing the last words.
Gianna took a minute to take it all in as she nodded and her eyes swept the room, wondering what her next words would be. She decided to tell the truth, everything that Polly would believe was wrong, anyway, she didn't believe that lying would work with the woman she had in front of her either.
"Maybe it's the first time they've told you, but… you're wrong" Gianna said as she tilted her head and placed her hands on her hips.
Polly arched an eyebrow "Wrong?"
"Yes. It's true that I'm not at all used to the tremendous discomfort that damn bed causes me, but I don't look down on any of you. I grew up in a wealthy family, but my parents didn't." said Gianna "I am the daughter of two people who had to fight to make the name they have today, two Italians, my father taught us values ​​and I prioritize them together with the family. For my father there was never anything more important than those two things and I believe that my mother would have beat me up if I had such thoughts. They never let our lifestyle affect our honesty." Gianna took a deep breath before continuing, "I know this marriage is arranged, but I'm a Shelby now, at least, for as long as this marriage lasts. I have no interest in affecting your family, that's something I can swear"
Polly kept thinking about the words of the girl in front of her. Thomas had told her about the values ​​that most of the Corleones shared, about the dreams that her now new wife had. She had investigated her as well and her life did not seem to be very contrary to the words she had just give to her, but she still could not be very sure, so she decided to do what she never can with Thomas. She walked over to the shelf Gianna was leaning against, pushing her out of the way as she opened a small door and pulled out an old-looking bible. "Swear it," she told Gianna as she rose from her, holding out the black book.
Gianna stood up straight in front of Polly and crossed both of her arms behind her back. "I can't" she said as she frowned at her and looked into her eyes.
"Why not?" She asked as she arched an eyebrow "I thought you weren't lying" she smiled.
"I don't, but I don't believe in God" she declared "When I was a child and I found out about our family's trade, I decided that I wouldn't believe in God anymore. It was easier to stop believing in him than to have to justify every night the terrible actions that my family and those close to them committed" she told Polly in a low voice.
Polly understood, many times she had doubts about whether God would judge the actions that she and her nephews committed and would continue to commit, but for her it was better to continue believing in him. Pray and deposit the health of her family in the only entity in charge of her lives, deciding that her doubts would be answered and the accounts settled the day she died. Hoping that when that day came, she would be the first of the Shelby family to leave.
Polly was putting the bible down with a sigh when Gianna unclasped the necklace she always wore around her neck, the one with a delicately carved initial letter F. She took the bible that the older woman had and, in return, placed her necklace gently in her hand. "I can swear on this," she stated as she raised her head, her hands once again taking place behind her back, hating every second that her precious necklace passed away from her.
"Why?" Polly asked as she inspected her necklace with her head bowed.
Polly distinguished, perhaps for the first time, a real smile on the Italian's face "It's the initial of the name I always wanted to give my daughter. In my times of loneliness and sadness, it's that necklace that helps me move forward" she said in a soft voice, her gaze falling to the ground as soon as she finished speaking. finished to tell a person she doesn't trust, one of the most intimate things in her life.
When the woman finally stopped inspecting her necklace, she placed it in her left hand and then spread it out between them. "Swear it" she said, looking into her eyes.
Gianna forced her hand to stop shaking and, after surreptitiously wiping the sweat from her hands on her skirt, she forced her hand to rest on her necklace. She really hoped that after this, she could count on Polly's support. As his brother told him, this woman was Thomas's advisor, who in his absence, was in charge of the family businesses and those related to his criminal organization, gaining his support or at least liking, was essential for the rest of the their coexistence. This was just a small initial step that she hoped would ease the woman's concerns.
While she wasn't lying, she had to be as convincing as possible. So Gianna look up and look Polly in her eyes, those eyes that seemed unfazed, that seemed to pierce her very soul. Right there, in that dusty, vomit-smelling room, Gianna swore to Polly Gray, for what she loved most and had yet to be born, that she would never harm her family.
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