#affair isle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliads · 9 months

Note

I love you writing and I was hoping you could write Ben Florian x VK!Reader the reader is Lefou's kid. A soulmate AU where the negative things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has one or two things because Ben is from Auradon and has a good life and family. While Ben has around half a dozen. Reader is the one who gives Ben the love potion. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and tries (but fails) to hide it thinking he deserves better

masterlist

There really is no good place for a prince. They are political figureheads in every sense of the phrase— too young to actually rule, too old to be allowed to skip state functions. They sit in corners of expensive meetings and cut ribbons in front of newly opened buildings, but they can’t do a whole lot except smile and pose.

Shame your friend seems so fixated on capturing one, then. It feels like you’ve just barely left the Isle of the Lost, only bid farewell to the entirety of your prior life experience hours ago, and yet already Mal is scheming about how to best tear down everything around you. If Prince Ben is the best way to fulfill her nefarious plans, then so be it.

The only problem is that you’re now involved in all of this, too. Mal wants a wand and so she’ll take a prince to get there, but as one of her best friends, you’ve been drafted into the plot to catch a prince. Ben won’t have any idea what’s coming. Shame, he would probably run if he had any clue.

Mal’s good at covering her tracks, though, she always has been. You can remember elaborate plans from when you were much younger to steal cookies or cloaks, spellbooks and shoes. At this point, hearing Mal tell you that she’s going to bewitch the crown prince of Auradon into falling in love with her shouldn’t surprise you, just the fact that she’s taken this long to come up with the idea.

Usually, you have no problem going along with Mal’s little adventures. They’re entertaining, at the least, a good way to pass a few days when you’ve already gone over every alleyway and hiding place on the Isle at least a dozen times in the last month. The issue is that you’re not on the Isle anymore, and maybe– just maybe– disrupting everything here isn’t entirely what you want to do.

Mal doesn’t know this, of course. None of your fellow VKs do. Every time they monologue and moan about how they can’t wait to get out of this place, you find yourself holding your tongue, biting back your real thoughts about how the school isn’t actually as bad as you feared. Sure, the constant judgment from the other children of princes and princesses isn’t all that fun, but Auradon Prep has its positives, too. For one thing, you think your soulmate might be here.

What a terrible thing for the child of a villain to prioritize. You’ve heard Mal scoff at the idea of a soulmate, and although Evie is certainly more interested in the idea than some of your other friends, you’re still not sure that you’d find a welcome audience amongst their ranks when it comes to tracking down your soulmate. After all, the odds of that soulmate being from Auradon and not the Isle are pretty high. They’ve all but told you that themselves.

All things considered, for a society with such control over magic and spells, it’s pretty difficult to find your soulmate. You’d always wondered why those in charge couldn’t shorten the whole affair to something more simple– a name on the wrist, perhaps, or an invisible string that only the two of you could see– but instead, soulmate magic went the complicated route. How lovely.

The story about the origin of the soulmate magic is convoluted and ancient, going back generations and changing with each family. The general consensus is that soulmates were created to preserve the sanctity of true love, with the idea that soulmates should be able to love each other entirely, flaws and all. So, when you think something negative about yourself, those very same thoughts will show up on the skin of your soulmate, something like a warning label for what they’re going to get themselves into.

This is all well and good for people with few negative thoughts, maybe they’ll have something here and there about a bad sports result or a poor test grade that their soulmate can chuckle over before meeting them. For you, though? You, the child of a villain, cursed to live forever on a too-small island with the other convicts and criminals, you have had more fears and hated things about yourself than most. Your soulmate must be covered in unhappy musings, which only makes you feel worse about yourself than before. A self-perpetuating cycle of the worst kind.

By contrast, the startling absence of your soulmate’s negative thoughts on your own skin makes you certain that they couldn’t be from the Isle of the Lost. There are only one or two fears on your skin, proof of loving parents and a stable home, and they’re minor things like a bad hair day or a fear of not doing their absolute best. These change, often leaving every few months to be replaced by something else insignificant.

What makes you most certain that your soulmate is the child of a royal is the one negative thought that has stayed on your skin since the very beginning. Your soulmate, whoever they are, is terrified that they will let down the king and queen. Only someone with close ties to the royalty could have such a fear, so it’s proof that your soulmate is somewhere here on Auradon.

So maybe you don’t want to leave this place, not yet. Not until you can learn who your soulmate is. It’ll be almost impossible to track them down on this information alone, but supposedly that’s how the whole thing is supposed to work. You learn about the worst parts of your soulmate, and then you get to love the best of them. The only problem is that you’re fairly sure that if your soulmate is a royal, they won’t want to love you at all.

It’s easier to ignore the whole affair. Easier to agree to Mal’s plan when she proposes enchanting Prince Ben. At least another one of your friend’s schemes will keep your mind off the soulmate affair.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, but your conscience is starting to get steadily more vocal as the days go by. Ben is a nice guy, which hurts, surprisingly. Although the love spell may have been cast on Mal, as one of Mal’s closest friends, you’re around the two of them all the time. The boy you see is someone that you wish could be your soulmate. He may be a prince, and you may be a villain, but he makes you want to believe in love after all.

You certainly have the capacity for such musings. For some reason, the love spell didn’t take all that well, and although Ben is now compelled to stay with Mal more than he was before, it’s not like he’s totally obsessed with her as Mal had hoped. Mal claims it’s because love spells can never work fully due to the soulmate issue, like having a soulmate is a kind of shield to protect you against that sort of enchantment, but regardless, Ben has just enough independent thought that he can tell you jokes and try to make you smile like– well, like he tries to do with Mal.

The realization that Ben is a genuinely good person, and worse, someone you don’t want to trick, haunts you as you fall further into Mal’s scheme. You’ve been trying to push the whole thing from your mind, letting Ben join your soulmate in the depths of your mind you don’t want to touch, but your train of thought keeps circling back to him despite your best attempts otherwise.

Besides, it doesn’t help that Mal keeps trying to involve you in the plot. Right now, the two of them are at the Enchanted Lake, out on a cute little date. Mal had been making mock disgusted faces at you the whole time she was getting ready, but some part of yourself can’t stop whispering that this doesn’t seem so bad, actually, that the thought of being out here alone with Ben would make for a wonderful day instead of the tedious chore Mal is making it out to be.

Ben doesn’t know you’re here, though. Mal wanted backup in case something happened, so you’re lingering in the woods to keep anyone from stumbling upon the scene and also holding onto more magical baked goods in case Mal feels the need to renew the spell. It’s kind of like torture, strolling through this beautiful forest, knowing that Ben is so close and you are helping hold him under the thrall of this plot.

The storm in your mind must be thundering too loudly for you to think straight, because you lose track of yourself and accidentally walk too close to the lake. You weren’t supposed to be spotted, but before you can back away and melt back into the foliage, Ben looks up and sees you. You panic, immediately heading the way you’d come, but you hear footsteps after you moments later and Ben manages to track you down before you can go too far. Mal is so going to kill you for messing with her plan.

“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes wide when he finally catches up to you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were– I’ll go now.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s not like we have a monopoly on the woods.”

He’s dripping water, most likely due to a recent dip in the lake, and you can’t seem to stop your gaze from following the path of the droplets as they cascade down his shoulders, across his hands, and, most importantly of all, over the swooping letters of the fears of his soulmates.

Usually, Ben wears long sleeves or something else to hide them. You can see why now– there are many of them, many more than you, perhaps half a dozen in all. You can’t read all of them from where you’re standing, just snippets about how a villain’s kid shouldn’t have a soulmate, how they’ll never amount to much, things like that. Things like what you’ve been thinking recently.

Ben must catch on to your train of thought, because he smiles weakly, absentmindedly scratching at a sentence proclaiming that his soulmate isn’t worth the good luck they get. “Yeah, my soulmate’s a little stressed, I guess. Hopefully, I can talk about that with them soon. I want them to know that they’re worth it, wherever they are.”

It had never occurred to you that hating yourself would make your soulmate this obsessed. You have no proof that Ben is your soulmate but–

But, as you watch, you can see a new fear appearing out of nowhere, wrapping itself around Ben’s left wrist. I’m not good enough for a soulmate this good. Just what you were thinking mere moments ago. It’s like proof.

Ben looks up slowly, and although you were never blessed with the ability to read minds, you swear you can tell exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Are you–” he starts, ends, tries again, “Do you know who your soulmate is?”

You can do several things at this moment. You can confirm what you’re mostly sure is true, you can lie, you can pretend you hadn’t heard him. You spot movement in the trees behind him, a flash of purple, and remember belatedly that Mal is still somewhere at the Enchanted Lake, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering why you’re holding him here for so long.

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around your shoulders. This is not something that can happen. Ben is a prince. You are the child of a villain, and the friend of another VK who’s counting on you to continue fooling Ben so she can pursue her latest mad plan. There is no world in which this works out.

So, you force a smile, banishing all thoughts back into the deep recesses of your brain once more. “No,” you say, “I don’t know. I think they’re a VK, though.”

Ben’s face falls in a flash. “Really? Because I thought–”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t– it’s not me. I think Mal is waiting for you, though. You shouldn’t keep her for long.”

Ben glances back over his shoulder in memory of the girl he’s left somewhere in the woods behind him, and when he looks back, you’re gone. You’re good at running. It’s a skill you’ve perfected over the years. You just never thought you’d have to use it now.

Prince Ben is your soulmate. Impossible. True. Mal comes back later that afternoon, tells you the date went splendidly despite your accidental intrusion. Ben must not have let the brief moment in the woods faze him for long. It hurts more than you care to admit.

There is only so much running a VK can do, try as they might to pretend otherwise. You avoid Ben at all costs, hoping that whatever foolish war is currently being fought inside your heart will come to a tolerable ceasefire if you just ignore it long enough. Mal tells you that the plan is going swimmingly, she’s never seen the prince more excited about the VKs and the upcoming coronation. You nod and smile and tell her that you’re glad everything is going to plan, but inside, you cannot seem to stop your mind from screaming.

And then, all of a sudden, despite your best attempts to remain out of sight, Prince Ben finds you. It’s completely out of the blue, so casual that you almost don’t realize it’s happening until he’s sitting down at your table in the library and it’s too late to run.

You feel like an animal caught in a trap. He’s just smiling like nothing is the matter. “I know it’s you,” he says by way of hello.

Your heart is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I know it’s you,” Ben repeats, “I know you’re my soulmate. I had the Fairy Godmother do a little spell so I could check for you, but I think I knew since that day at the lake.”

You frown. “You can do that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can, I think. But I, uh, insisted.”

You grin. “Prince privileges?”

“Something like that.” He’s smiling, though, maybe pleased that you’re not trying to run off this time. “But you knew even without the spell, didn’t you?”

That does shake your uncertain sense of calm. “Yes,” you admit, “but I didn’t think you— I didn’t think it would work out.”

The look on Ben’s face is genuinely heartbreaking. “What, just because I’m a prince?”

He says it so casually, it’s almost funny. “Yes, Ben, because you’re a prince and I’m a VK. I mean, my dad was Lefou. He literally tried to ruin the happy ever after of your parents, why would you want someone like me to be your soulmate?”

“Same reason you shouldn’t be afraid to want me. You’re not your father, Y/N, and I’m not my parents. We’re just us, and I know that I want you to be my soulmate. I have since the start. I was hoping you would tell me you knew, but after a few days went by and you still said nothing, I figured I had to take matters into my own hands. Even if that meant using a spell or two.”

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and tell you it’s ridiculous to think that he would ever want a VK as a soulmate, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t think he ever will. As impossible as it seems, Ben wants someone who isn’t from a perfect fairy tale. He wants you. And that, lovely and wonderful and absolutely crazy, sounds like a fairly good happily ever after for you.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed

#ben florian #ben florian imagines #ben florian x reader #ben florian oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants ben #descendants ben imagines #descendants ben x reader #descendants ben oneshot

1K notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 1 year

Text

sweet nothing • 4

(in which he has never been grocery shopping before)

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous | Next

Note: for all my slice of life girlies!!! Here’s a lil treat 🫶 I’ve been having brain rot for sweet nothing the last couple of days so enjoy!!

When Jungkook had said he would take you anywhere, he meant it. Whether it was a two hour roadtrip or a two week trip to Morocco, he’d do anything and take you anywhere to make up for his absence the last week.

You had thought long and hard on it and when the time came to decide on your first weekly outing, Jungkook was truly prepared to take extra time off, just for you.

What he hadn’t expected was this.

“Y/n, remember when I said we could go anywhere?” Jungkook asked, trying to keep his sniffle quiet as he fixed his face mask and then adjusted the black ball cap he wore.

“Hm? Yeah?” You replied, beaming as you held your swollen tummy in excitement.

“I meant anywhere in the world. Not the grocery store.”

You glanced up at him, a shy smile on your face, “I know, but I’ve been wanting to cook for myself the last few days but you don’t have anything in the second kitchen. And staff won’t let me in the first.”

Jungkook frowned though you couldn’t see it, “Is the cooking not to your standard?”

“Oh no! The cooking is fine,” You smiled somewhat nervously, already noticing the look in his eyes which said he was close to whipping his phone out and firing people on the spot, “I just miss cooking for myself. Gourmet food is amazing, but nothing beats home cooking! I thought we could browse around and get some ingredients for a few dishes.”

Jungkook shrugged, “It’s your outing choice not mine. Let’s go.”

He opened the door to the small local grocery store, the bells jingling as he let you walk in first, the ladies at the registers greeting you both as you grabbed a grocery basket.

You browsed through the isles, admittedly curious to see what goods they sold, you had never come in before but had found it online after doing some looking because if Jungkook was coming with you, it would be best to try and be discreet, he was a CEO after all.

Granted he didn’t look discreet himself, even in casual clothes he was still in all black, black jeans, black leather jacket, black cap, black mask.

Oh and the gold Rolex on his wrist.

You briefly glanced at the shiny metal before looking back at the produce. Jungkook was practically glued to your back, leering over you with each product you picked up, looking as if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“That’s ridiculously cheap.” He commented as you set the salad dressing back on the shelf.

You twisted around in surprise, “That’s eight dollars! That’s not cheap at all.”

Jungkook cocked his head to the side as if trying to figure out whether you were serious or not. This made you sigh as you felt a small kick in your stomach hand automatically grabbing the spot as you corrected yourself, “It’s not cheap for anyone who isn’t a millionaire.”

“Multi-millionaire.” Jungkook corrected as he reached back over, tossing it into the basket.

“Jungkook-”

“Not a word.” He replied, looking down at you chastising, “In fact.”

“Jungkook!”

“Give me that,” Jungkook grabbed the grocery basket from you, it was empty aside from the salad dressing that rolled about in it, “You’re pregnant you shouldn’t be carrying it anyways.”

“I can still carry things!” You replied indignantly, crossing your arms above your stomach.

“Yeah but should you?” Jungkook replied but cut you off before you could even try to reply, “Yeah I didn’t think so, moving on.” He pressed his hand into your back, giving you a gentle push to move forward.

Briefly in the peripheral of your eyes you could see an elderly couple giggle at your squabbling. You could feel the tips of your ears begin to burn as you without putting up a further fight, continued on, you didn’t want to make people think you and Jungkook were…

Your thought wasn’t continued at the sight ahead, instead a delight noise escaped you as you clasped your hands together, “Ah! Look at these, aren’t they just darling!” You sped over to the small clothing section but what had caught your eye was of course the baby clothes.

There was various sizing but newborn was what your eyes honed in on, little bright colored onesies, the smallest coats with little bear ears! And the socks! They were so tiny.

Just all of the clothing had you grabbing your bump in excitement as you dug through them.

Jungkook only sighed as he leaned against the metal rack, basket still in hand as he asked, “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” You confessed with a shy smile, “I want it to be a surprise. I’d be happy with either. I don’t have much for the baby to be honest with you…” Your smile faltered a little, “I have a few sets of onesies that I’ve gathered throughout my pregnancy but I’ve been trying to keep them in gender neutral colors.”

You tried to not linger on the words that accidentally slipped out of you about not having much for the baby, but it was the truth. You absolutely hated going to baby showers before, always feeling awkward and a bit bored most of the time, and not really understanding the purpose of it.

Now being pregnant yourself you realized it was about chipping in and helping the new mom out on expenses, just about everything was insanely expensive.

Especially when the baby would be grown out of many of these garments in just a few months.

So the simple fix was, just have a baby shower.

The problem was, embarrassingly enough, you didn’t have any close family left aside from your brother, could you even count him anymore? The few people you knew were your coworkers, they were kind people, going out of their way to give you an informal baby shower which included a small set of gifts when you came in to open one day and a small set of cupcakes for everyone.

It was such a kind gesture it had brought you to tears, but it still didn’t fill that void inside you that in the end, you truly didn’t have anyone to come back to at home.

“What do you have for the baby?” Jungkook asked casually, looking as if his cuticles were more interesting than the conversation at hand.

You knew better than to believe his nonchalant attitude though, “Enough.”

“But how much,” Jungkook repeated, shifting his eyes from his hand to you revealing that he was very much invested in this conversation, no matter how cool he was trying to play it, “You’re staying with me until this whole ordeal with your brother is solved, remember? Which could be months.”

You sighed in irritation, grabbing hold of your stomach as you shifted your weight, “I’d hope not months, if it can be helped.”

This made Jungkook sigh in exasperation as well, “Of course, but again, it’s better to be prepared then not. I could buy this entire store in a second if I wanted, you think infant clothes are gonna break my bank?”

“That’s not the point Jungkook!” You frowned, not happy at all with how this conversation was going, “I’m sure you’ll find Wonho soon enough, can we please go check out my back is starting to hurt.”

You weren’t lying by any means, anytime you stood for more than a few hours at a time your back would start to dully ache these days.

Jungkook tucked his tongue against his cheek, looking as if he definitely had more to say but relented as he gestured you to forward first, huffing you kept your hands on your bump as you walked past him.

After checking out Jungkook was determined to carry your grocery bags for you all the way to his car, a custom made Viper with LED’s on the inside, it felt a bit ridiculous to ride in honestly, but seeing his satisfied tap of his fingers against the wheel told you that as long as he was happy, so were you.

The last stop of your short trip was the one you were looking forward to.

“This is a horrible idea.” Jungkook commented, his voice sounding a bit raspier as you turned to him in suspicion, “What…?”

“Are you okay?” You asked, turning your head to the side in question.

“I’m fine.” Jungkook waved a hand, his voice still a bit scratchy though, nothing a good cup of tea couldn’t fix though, and luckily Serendipity Bakery could help with that. Otherwise known as your old work place!

Walking in you made eye contact with the cashier you blinked as if trying to figure out whether you were a ghost or not, “Y/n!?”

“Eunwoo!” You cheered with a bright grin, he was the owner’s son of the shop but he had been training in every position while learning the trade of the business in hopes of one day taking over the shop for his father.

He rounded the counter sweeping you into a hug, careful of your stomach though before he held your shoulders tenderly, “I was so concerned when you sent in that text about going on maternity leave early! I’ve been trying to contact you since, you’ve had me worried to death! Is the baby okay?”

You were so surprised by the amount of questions that it took you a moment to process before you glanced down at his hands, sliding from your shoulders to your stomach.

“I’m okay…” You admitted, a bit shy at his attention, Eunwoo was…you weren’t sure what you two were to one another, other than perhaps a missed opportunity had you not been pregnant, in your first trimester when you had started working here, “Just been busy.”

“But the baby…”

“Is fine.”

The deep voice of Jungkook cut into the conversation making you remember he was indeed still here, he looked like a black rain cloud, suddenly looming right behind you and his eyes had twisted into a death glare, except it wasn’t aimed on you, moreso on Eunwoo’s hands, which were still on your stomach.

“Oh…?” Eunwoo’s hands reluctantly dropped as he frowned, “And you are…?”

“Jungkook,” He replied with a clipped tone, “her caretaker.”

“He mean’s roommate.” You curved a brow at him, caretaker? Seriously? “I moved into a new home! Jungkook is my roommate, he’s been helping me settle in and get ready for the baby. Right…?”

Jungkook said nothing, despite wearing a black face mask it wasn’t difficult to tell his expression beneath was unfriendly, you had seen many sides of Jungkook but this one wasn’t one you were most familiar with, he had flashed expressions like this at men who would attempt to talk to you at the Red Light before you had gotten pregnant.

But this was Eunwoo, not just some guy.

“I see…” Eunwoo frowned, glancing at Jungkook, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook, I’m Eunwoo, Y/n’s co-worker and friend, I hope you’ve been taking good care of her, she deserves only the best.”

“Eunwoo...” You felt a bit flustered at the sudden tension between both men, uncertain of how to translate this, you never had any intimate relationship with either of them aside from a certain unspoken attraction that you had at some point just assumed was you being stupid and it was only one sided.

At least in terms of Jungkook…You tried not to think about those days anymore, after all you never truly knew Jungkook back then, other then you were girlishly flattered at the attention he would sometimes give you.

You were too embarrassed to even think about it these days, the amount of times you’d stay up late into the night imagining a glimpse of a life that would never happen with him.

Eunwoo however...was a very different story, he had a boyish charm about him, the boy next door type of feeling, he had always been sweet to you, even after knowing you were pregnant he looked at you no different, and he was the reason you even had a small baby shower to begin with.

You could’ve had something with him, but the only person stopping you was yourself.

Partly because you didn’t want him involved in all of this, but there was also something else you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“Luckily for her I only provide the best,” Jungkook replied, a little haughty, as if he was ruffled at the insinuation at not being able to take care of you, his glare didn’t let up, “You gonna take our order or what?”

You could tell Eunwoo didn’t appreciate his tone, but he forced a smile as he replied, “Anything for you Y/n, what’s on the craving menu today?” He rounded the counter as he rested his elbows on the surface.

You gave a soft smile, trying to ignore Jungkook practically towering over your shoulder, now acting as if he was a force field making sure you stayed a good distance from Eunwoo, “Honestly a London Fog and a blueberry scone sounds amazing! What about you Jungkook?”

“Coffee, black.” Jungkook replied deadpan.

“Alright,” Eunwoo nodded, “It’s on the house.”

“What? No, no we can pay!” You frowned as Eunwoo chuckled, a pretty smile on his lips as he shook his head, making his freshly dyed blonde hair brush over his eyebrows.

“Nope, too late, order’s been voided, i’ll be back with your stuff in a moment.” Eunwoo winked at you as he disappeared into the back.

“He’s your coworker?”

You twisted around, your frown turning into a pout, “Not for long with the way you were glaring.”

“I wasn’t glaring.” Jungkook replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Before you could pursue the conversation Eunwoo returned with your drinks and food, both in to go cups and a small pastry bag, “Here you are.”

“Thank you Eunwoo!” You grinned as you reached for your drink.

But before you could grab it Eunwoo softly grabbed your hand, “Anything for you Y/n, seriously, text me, I know you’re on maternity leave but if you want to hang out let me know! We can go out sometime.”

“Let’s go.” Jungkook’s voice was a tad deeper than normal, his eyes back into a glare as he reached over your hand grabbing both drinks, somehow managing to hold both in one hand before pressing another against your back firmly to turn you around.

It happened so fast you could hardly process it as you waved goodbye to Eunwoo.

“What was that about?” You asked bewildered by his action as you exited the shop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jungkook replied, his eyes staying forward as you huffed, curving a brow as took your drink from his hand, taking a sip of it as you decided to not pursue this conversation though it was very tempting.

Being so focused on how childish he was acting you didn’t even notice how his hand still stayed against your back all the way until you returned to the car, Jungkook making the point to even open the door for you as you sat back down with a groan, your back aching once more with the need to rest.

“Anywhere else you wanna go?” Jungkook asked as he slid into the drivers side.

You shook your head, “Nah, I just wanna go home.”

You couldn’t see it beneath his mask, but the tiniest smile tugged on Jungkook’s lips at your words, “Then home it is.”

#bts #bts jungkook #Jungkook #Jeon Jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #Jungkook x you #mafia!jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #bts au #bts mafia #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine

906 notes · View notes

writers-potion · 1 month

Note

Do you have any tips on how to name a story/book? Bc I’m really struggling to come up with something good

Book Title Ideas!!

Fantasy Book Titles

"The Chronicles of Eldoria"

"Realm of the Shadow King"

"Echoes of the Lost Kingdom"

"The Crystal Throne"

"Legends of the Eternal Dragon"

"The Hitman's Apprentice"

"Sorcery of the Silver Moon"

"Beyond the Enchanted Forest"

"Tales of the Arcane Isles"

"The Last Guardian of Light"

"Crown of the Winter Realm"

"The Fireborn Chronicles"

"Winds of the Wandering Mage"

"Secrets of the Starlit Citadel"

"The Frost Queen's Curse"

"Whispers from the Ancient Tome"

"Sword of the Celestial Knight"

"The Phoenix's Prophecy"

"Echoes of Eternity"

"The Shadow's Embrace"

Romance Book Titles

"Swiping Right"

"Romantic Vibes Only"

"Coffee Shop Confessions"

"The Social Media Sweetheart"

"Chasing Sunsets"

"Love Notes and Lattes"

"Lost in Translation"

"The Dating App Dilemma"

"Love in the Fast Lane"

"City Lights and Romance"

"Instant Chemistry"

"The Modern Love Story"

"Love in the Clouds"

"Swipe Left for Heartache"

"Heartstrings and Harmony"

Mystery Novel Titles

"The Enigma of Midnight Manor"

"Murder on the Moors"

"Whispers in the Shadows"

"The Secret of Willow Creek"

"Death at Darkwater Bay"

"The Puzzle of the Poisoned Pen"

"Ghosts of Greyhill Mansion"

"Vanishing at Verona Villa"

"The Mystery of Moonstone Manor"

"Murder in the Misty Woods"

"The Case of the Crimson Cipher"

"The Secret of Sapphire Springs"

"The Silent Suspect"

"Echoes of the Old Mill"

"A Lethal Legacy"

"The Mystery of Midnight Hollow"

"Murder Among the Magnolias"

"The Cryptic Conundrum"

"The Haunting of Hawthorn House"

"Deadly Deception in Dahlia Valley"

YA Novel Titles

"The Echoes Between Us"

"Invisible Constellations"

"Catching Shadows"

"Threads of Serendipity"

"Bloom and Blossom"

"Growing Pains and Paper Planes"

"Dandelions in the Wind"

"Whispers in the Quiet Hours"

"Crossroads of Everlasting Echoes"

"Forgotten Names"

"The Color of Tomorrow"

"Redefining Normal"

"Footprints in the Sand"

"The Art of Glowing Up"

Paranormal Book Titles

"Mystic Bonds"

"Wolfblood Chronicles"

"Twilight's Enchantment"

"Soulbound Serenade"

"Nightfall Destiny"

"Nightshade Kisses"

"The Crimson Courtship"

"Bloodbound: A Tale of Moonlit Passion"

"Witchcraft and Whispers"

"Enchantress' Embrace"

"Heartbeat Hex"

"Welcome to the Coven of Desire"

"A Moonlit Affair"

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

62 notes · View notes

doomsday-dj · 26 days

Note

Alright i'll bite...

Can u share your top 3 reasons why you chose Rizzles for your fanfics??

I don’t think I can stress enough how much I did not choose Rizzoli & Isles.

This is not like an “I didn’t choose the thug life, the thug life chose me” thing except it kind of is. I am Rizzles Tupac. But seriously if you go back to like July of last year, before I started watching this show, I had never even CONSIDERED writing fan fiction. I did not write for fun. I did not think about writing for fun. Writing was completely not on my radar.

I have what I call my kitchen shows which I put on when I’m making dinner or doing the dishes. The key with these shows is that they’re not supposed to be very good. I had tried to do it with Bosch but that show was actually too riveting so I put on Rizzoli & Isles one day in search of a dumber procedural.

And then suddenly I was fucking hooked? And secretly started writing fan fiction? I was like midway through the third season when I started AGVK. True story I took my wife out for a date night and after a couple of margaritas and a beer I was like “I have something to tell you, I’m embarrassed but I can’t keep it from you any longer” and she probably thought I committed a crime or was having an affair for a second.

ANYWAY. This show really snuck up on me. I truly cannot believe how much of my waking life is spent thinking about a fictional cop.

But I do want to answer your question so I will tell you the top three reasons why I’m STILL writing Rizzles fanfics:

1) there is just so much to work with and so little to get in the way of it. They spend all their time together and have barely any men in their lives and that’s just so good. Like I don’t think there’s another non-canon wlw ship where they’re more married. Supercorp is so popular but I’m watching that show right now and had to go through SO MANY EPISODES where they didn’t even interact. I think OUAT has them interacting plenty but there’s more forcing them into romances with men? Idk I haven’t watched it. But Rizzles is just…they’re each other’s entire world. It’s great.

2) we are so starved for butch representation on television that literal super model and girly girl ANGIE HARMON walking manishly is among the best I can get. I cannot believe how gayly she landed this character, it baffles me every time I watch.

3) They’re both just so hot. Sasha Alexander couldn’t be more my type. Every time they put her in a sheath dress and a pair of nude stilettos I practically fall to my knees.

Bonus 4th reason: the Rizzles fandom is small but so friendly and lovely and receptive. I have a couple Supercorp fics planned and I know that fandom is way way way bigger and I’m excited to see what kind of reception my writing might get over there but I know it’s not gonna be as cozy as this little community we have.

As always, I hope you were looking for an EXTREMELY in-depth answer! Thanks for the ask.

#rizzles #rizzoli and isles #fanfic talk #ask doomsday #for the record I hate cops #thinking this much about a pathologist makes sense because I grew up on the x-files

54 notes · View notes

dragononaskateboard · 1 year

Text

Hmmmmm, Collector backstory?

Here we have the past collectors, busy “watching, preserving and observing” the world/the boiling isles, And poor little Collector not getting any attention/not having anyone to play with

Then we have The past collectors hanging out with the titan trappers, They are trying on real skulls from real titans, like the titan trappers wear

And we have the titan trappers fighting the titans in an all out war, the painting paints the titans with red evil eyes - meaning that the collectors agree that the titans turned evil (Why? Why would the titans “have to” turn evil?) (Did they meddle in the Collector’s affairs? Why and how?)

In the eyes of the collectors, what would be deemed as evil? “But should they (the creatures on the boiling isles/the titans) meddle in our affairs, we’ll clean the planet and scorch the air” — Aka they killed the titans (with boiling water?/creating the boiling isles?)

That’s their duty, and it’s the one The Collector one day is gonna have to fulfill too.

“Here Little Collector, this is your duty!” — But Little Collector don’t want that, They want to have fun and play with their friends! The titans are The collector’s friends!!

“Make friends instead” Hey Past collectors why don’t you just make friends with the titans instead?? You don’t have to fight each other!

The collector thinks the past collectors(/titan trappers?) STINK! BOO!!

~~~

Titan/King backstory | Owl beast backstory | Wittebane/Clawthorne backstory

It’s all connected!!

#I’m just trying to understand this myself #It’s so intertwined everywhere!!#Gonna have to rewatch a bunch of episodes #The owl house #for the future #The collector #The titans #Titan trappers #King Clawthorne #spoilers #toh #the owl house spoilers #for the future spoilers #toh spoilers

489 notes · View notes

try02line · 3 months

Text

TOH UNPOPULAR TAKE: CALEB WITTEBANE: Evelyn his love, Philip his joy

Essentially a personal interpretation of the Wittebane lore from Caleb perspective with him being a much more grey character of dubious/grey morality (+ him being kind of delusional)

———————————————————————————————————————

Imagine this- Caleb meets Evelyn, a gorgeous, witty and vibrant witch. Despite everything he has been taught all his life, he likes her- no, screw that, he loves her. It takes time of course, but their love is genuine and deep, they complete each other, and their relationship flourishes fast and sweet. She is a breath of fresh air in Caleb’s life, she shows him things he had never thought possible, she shows him a world that is new and exciting and free, so strikingly different from the stark harsh rules and unsaid protocols of Gravesfield.

The small hushed conversations in the forest, the secret kisses and small escapades are soon not enough for either. They crave for more, but they know they cannot have it in the human realm, so Evelyn leads her friend and lover through a portal and to her home.

Caleb’s visits to the Boiling Isles are brief and hesitant affairs at first, albeit his curiosity, it still takes time for him to get used to such strange, terrifying yet fascinating world. But with time he grows bolder and more confidente. They don’t have to hide their love there, they are free. Free to hold hands and dance together, free to laugh and cry, free to explore and love for hours to no end.

And just like that, the once rare brief escapades become an ever more common occurrence, until they become a nearly daily matter. And not only that, but the time he spends there grows exponentially. If at first it was just a few minutes, soon he spends there hours, even days.

Until one day, he doesn’t come back from that portal.

Being in the Boiling Isles with Evelyn is intoxicating, nearly addictive. He is free, he is happy, he feels alive. Time flies by like butterflies, at the constant rhythm of their enamored hearts, inexorable and yet unnoticed. Caleb thinks he’d like to stay there forever, spend the rest of his days in this apparent perfect pure bliss.

But he cannot.

Because he doesn’t belong.

The Boiling Isles are beautiful and Evelyn’s family and friends always do their best to make him feel part of this- of everything; and he appreciates that, truly, they are far kinder to him than what he deserves, than what he’ll ever be able to to express and give back.

But it isn’t enough.

Deep down, Caleb knows he doesn’t belong here, just like he didn’t belong in Gravesfield when he arrived all those years before. No one but a poor homeless orphan, with nothing to his name but his father’s blue coat and his little brother at his side.

He doesn’t belong there, and he accepts it. He smiles his worries away, and simply tries to make the most out of this, trying to enjoy this sweet little dream, knowing it will not last forever.

He has to go back after all, he knows, he has always known.

That was why when he followed Evelyn thru that portal, he left all his most priced possessions behind.

His blue coat.

His carving knife.

His little brother.

Oh his little brother. His joy and his duty. The only thing his poor mother had left to remind him of her. Of her blue eyes, of her dark hair, of her witty comments- Philip had inherited all of that and more.

Caleb missed him dearly, of course he did.

He had spent his own childhood and adolescence raising him. He had taught him everything he knew. He had comforted him from his nightmares. He had taken any and every back breaking job under the sun to make sure he wouldn’t go hungry. He had stolen medicines when he was sick. He had taken his punishments and blames when he had messed up. He had haunted an hanged innocent and sinful women alike so they could fit in.

It had been a hard life, and yet, it had always seemed worth it when he would come back to their small home in the woods at the end of the day, sweaty and exhausted, and his little brother would be waiting for him sat on the small porch of their cabin. Every day he would do that, with no fail. Whether it was hot or cold, whether it was sunny or raining or snowing, whether it was early or late, whether they had argued or not. He was always there, each single time, awaiting for his return.

And Caleb would feel at home.

Maybe that was why, regardless of all the precious memories they shared in there, of all the small trinkets and moments and love they had filled it with it, Caleb had never been able to truly feel the house him and Evelyn shared as anything more than that … a house, never a home, or never a complete one at least.

There would always be something, someone missing to him, an emptiness in his heart. Something no friend, nor pet, nor palisman, nor the prospect of a baby could make up for- even if he loved each of them more than life itself.

Not even his Evelyn. Oh, how he loved her. But he also loved Philip.

And in his sinful human greed, Caleb prayed at night he could have both.

Evelyn’s free hypnotizing smile, Philip’s mischevious adoring eyes.

Wouldn’t it be beautiful? To go on adventures in the forest with his little brother during the day, and to dance around the fire with his lover at night. He didn’t think he’d need anything more, anyone else, to be truly happy. For how blasphemous it was to ponder such thought, he didn’t think anything their lord in heaven could offer him would ever be as joyful and sweet as that.

But it was impossible, nothing more than wishful thinking, a greedy fantasy.

For that to be possible, he’d have to either bring Philip to the Boiling Isles or Evelyn to the human realm, and both prospects were nothing but cruel, even if there was any chance of either accepting. He couldn’t do that to either, he loved them both too much for that.

How could he ask his lover to leave her home, her friends and family behind? How could he ask her vibrant and free Evelyn to strip herself of what made her her, to spend the rest of her life in hiding, with the looming threat of someone finding out what she was and burning her at the stake for that? No, she was to remain free to fly around and spread her wings in all their glory. That was whom she was, untamed and rebellious, but also warm and reassuring, like fire. He would never even suggest anything that may deem that light, he loved her too much for that

But then, how would asking his little brother to leave the human realm any better? Philip, who had been forcefully dragged from his home once already, whom had always struggled so much to fit in, to find a purpose, a place in their stern and unforgiving community. How could he ask him to leave it all behind, when he had just started to thrive in it? To drag him to this dangerous hellish new land, to start from scratch with no guarantee on their future, not only making of him an outcast once more, but knowing that for him to have any chance to fit in, he would have to unlearn and go against all the morals and rules that everyone had taught him since he was a little child?

That Caleb had taught him?

Oh … Maybe that was the real issue, wasn’t it? Maybe there was nothing selfless nor loving about his worries. Maybe the reason why he didn’t bring Philip along with him was far from merely not wishing to cause him harm.

Maybe the truth was that he was too prideful to let his little brother know he had been wrong. And not about something small and insignificant, but that all his life he had been wrong.

To admit that to Philip, who always looked up to him as if he could do or say no wrong, as if he was special. Him- special! What a joke! Caleb Wittebane, a poor orphan with little education and nothing to his name. A nobody, who had to scrap the bottom of the barrel each and every day just to make enough to eat. And yet … and yet Philip had always looked up at him as if he held the whole world in his hands.

Expecting of him to always know the answer, to always know what to do- it was exhausting at times, sure, it felt like a cross on his shoulders for him to carry thru the years, but it was also so sinfully addictive, as he sipped the sweet reward from the top of his pedestal. To feel important, to feel indispensable, to feel respected. Pride was a sin, and yet one Caleb couldn’t stop indulging in, a forbidden fruit he never got tired off, regardless of the years that passed by. He was so ashamed of himself, but- oh how he relinquished in the pure naive adoration and admiration his little brother would shower him with.

Stronger than a knight. Smarter than a lawman. Higher than a priest.

That was how it made him feel, and to a nobody like him, it was everything.

Wouldn’t it be cruel, to tear that pristine perfect image from his little brother’s arms? To let him see, that the older brother he looked up so much to, was nothing, but a fraud? No, Philip had already so few certainties in his life, he couldn’t do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair. He was his duty after all, how could he cause him so much pain? What kind of older brother would he be, if he knowingly hurt him?

He had to go back. It didn’t matter how exciting the Boiling Isles were, how pleasant his life there was, how lovely Evelyn was- he did not belong there. His place was at Gravesfield, in a little cabin in the woods, with his little brother.

It was his destiny, it was his duty.

He had promised Philip he would never leave him after all, how could he call himself a good older brother and disappoint him so cruelly? He had to go back, and he soon would.

Or at least, that was what he told himself every morning when he woke up, and every night when he went to sleep. And yet- that was what it all was, just words, with little progress or action to actually follow them. Again, he was a fraud after all, ready to fool not only his loved ones, but also himself.

Caleb kept telling himself he had all the time in the world. And just like that, days, months and years passed by. And yet, he still told himself he had time, so it didn’t matter. Even when him and Evelyn got married, even when they moved to a bigger house, even when she told him she was expecting.

Caleb kept telling himself he could and would stop at any moment, he was just waiting for the right one. It wasn’t that much different from when him and Philip would play pretend in the woods. His younger brother often got so self absorbed in his little games and stories that he would loose track of time- yeah that must be it, he was simply enjoying his life and struggling to keep track of time. But it was fine, all games come to an end sooner or later, regardless of how fun they were or how painful it was to stop, and this one would to.

One day, soon enough, he would have the bravery to thank Evelyn for blessing him with her love, he was sure she would find someone else, someone better, someone who deserved to build a family with her. He would gather his stuff, and he would leave, and go back to his old life, to Philip.

Caleb never wondered what may have been of his little brother, while he was away, never even pondered such scenarios. He just told himself that Philip was a smart kid, and he would be fine while he was gone. In his mind, there was no doubt of that, just like there was no doubt he would eventually cross that portal, and go back to him.

In his mind, the younger boy would be waiting for him on the steps of their home, just like he always did, looking not one day older from when he had left him behind, still the little boy he had raised and loved. Maybe he’d be upset he took this long, just like when he did whenever Caleb had to work an extra hour in the fields, but in the end, he would forgive him, just like he always did. They would just pick up from where they had left, as if only a few days had passed by, maybe he would indulge him and play witch hunters in the forest just like when they were children. His little brother would forget all his sins and would smile up to him as if he was a great king rather than a fool, and everything would be fine.

Right?

————————————————————————————————————-

I always claim i want to explore a more grey-dark version of Caleb Wittebane (more or less within the canon), so here it is! Let me know what you think about it! Especially @barnowled

70 notes · View notes

docgold13 · 7 months

Text

Profiles in Villainy Redemption

Hunter

Formerly known as The Golden Guard, Hunter had acted as the first lieutenant to the villainous Emperor Belos. As head of the Emperor's Coven, Hunter was the chief enforcer mandating the proper use of magic and hunting down so-called ‘wild witches’ who had defied the Emperor’s rule. Hunter believed himself to be Belos’ nephew yet it was later revealed that he is actually a witch-breed grimwalker, artificially designed to resemble Belos’ lost brother, Caleb.

Hunter was tasked by Belos to find him Palismans (sentient magical totems). He tried to abduct a group of such Palismans but was thwarted in the effort by the young witch-in-training, Luz Noceda. During this affair, the Palisman known as Flapjack bonded with Hunter and chose him as its owner.

Owning a Palisman caused Hunter to broaden his perspective on wild magic. He and Flapjack came to discover Hunter’s true origins as well as Emperor Belos’ nefarious plans to destroy the Boiling Isles.

These revelations led Hunter to turn away from Belos and he ended up aiding Luz and the other Witches of The Owl House in ultimately defeating Belos. Flapjack was sadly destroyed in the ordeal and Hunter was bereft over the loss. Following the conflict and restoration of peace to the Boiling Isles, Hunter dedicated himself to becoming a carver of new Palismans.

Actor Zeno Robinson voices the character of Hunter, who first appeared in the eighteenth episode of the first season of The Owl House, airing on August 22nd, 2020.

#Profiles in Villainy #Owl House #Hunter #Golden Guard #cut-out #paper art #Villains!

120 notes · View notes

three-atoms · 1 year

Text

Asriel Belacqua: a passionate Northern explorer with a great fortune

Marisa Coulter: a passionate scholar married to a rising politician

they fell in love as soon as they met // she found herself with his child and thought it best to hide the baby away // but someone whispered to her husband what had happened and he came a flying down in a murderous passion; Asriel challenged him, and they fought there and then, and Asriel killed him // the consequence was a great lawsuit; the judges punished Asriel by confiscating all his property and all his land; Marisa turned her back; the court decided the baby was to be placed in a priory // but Asriel wouldn't stand for that; he took the baby to Jordan College and dared the law to undo it // Asriel went back to his explorations; he wanted to go to the source of Dust itself // then came all this anxiety about Dust; Marisa spotted the chance to set up her own power base //

in the end, they leapt, seizing the great beating wings of the Authority and bearing them all down into the abyss

together

for Lyra

quotes adapted from Northern Lights by Philip Pullman

#his dark materials #hdmedit #masriel #asriel x marisa #marisa x asriel #marisa coulter #asriel belacqua #chaos family #the north #geneva #oxford #affair isle #london #jordan college #svalbard #bolvangar #the abyss #book quotes #🧭 🧭 🧭

76 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 1 year

Photo

You can say ‘trousers’ in an American context if you want. You’ll be understood. You’ll just sound like you’re a stuffy 90-year-old, which may be OOC if you’re writing fiction with a particular character voice.

In American English, a “sweater” is one of those knit affairs like that Aran sweater on the left. A Fair Isle sweater, a cardigan that opens down the front, etc. (I gather those are “jumpers” elsewhere.)

A “sweatshirt” is the middle thing.

The one on the right is a “jumper” and blouse.

You can put your macho US military Stargate character in a pinafore dress if you want. I will not curtail his cottagecore dreams. Just... you know... be aware that this is what the American reader will be picturing when you say “jumper”.

571 notes · View notes

the-de-vil-affairs · 11 months

Text

I'm a fan nerd who loves to write about the de Vil family.

I'm currently working on a very in depth family tree and registry for a fanfiction I wrote a grand many years ago. I've created this blog to hopefully maintain some semblance of order and also keep me accountable for my progress. And if I get to record my rants, that's just bonus points. I thrive on plotting, so please if you desire a chaotic ball of energy to plot at or with, look no further. But seriously this blog will literally be all my de Vil random thoughts and probably my head-canon garbage and rambles. That being said, I'm going to almost exclusively focus on this stuff and plotting, and maybe do some actual prompt writings or share random scribbles of plot for my stories here.

Stardust + Chaos

#disney descendants #isle of the lost #101 dalmatians #introduction #first post #de Vil #stardust + chaos #the de Vil Affairs #I have multiple back stories and family trees of the de vil at this point that I could fill my office walls with them.#but I can't help but make this one #it's already so freaking large I'm concerned.#come plot with me #writing is fun #writing is life

2 notes · View notes

featherlikescartoons · 1 year

Text

A brief-ish Analysis on the most important scene in For the Future lore: The Collector's Story

I needed a place to ramble, so here we go

To start off with, the cover of the actual book is much simpler and more childish than the symbol we've seen in the past:

So this book was probably made for this Collector specifically, or any young Collector to learn about their species. I'd also like to comment on the fact that while the book may look impossibly long, the stone pages coupled with the large font greatly shorten it. This doesn't mean it's not long, just not as long as it first appears.

This isn't important, just thought I'd point it out.

Moving on:

The contents of the book

This scene confirms something very important, there were other Collectors

and from the looks of it, they weren't very nice. More on that in a moment

The people depicted here are probably the ancestors of the Titan Trappers, seeming to worship the Collectors. But considering the Collector's tendency to wipe out anyone in their path, this isn't surprising. They seem to gain followers through fear, the type of fear they twist into awe and worship.

I find this especially interesting because Belos gained followers in a similar manner, fear turned to worship. First of all, I'd like to acknowledge they are still very different. Belos's rise to power came about through manipulation and making everyone believe he could lead them to a better future, while the Collectors probably scared everyone into submission with the idea they could take down any who go against them in an instant.

But while their origins are different, they grow into something very similar. By season 1 and 2, Belos was forcefully gripping at control and using his powerful position to either capture any who rebel, and to invoke worship in the rest. Maybe I'm reading too far into it, I don't know.

Additionally, each group were trying to destroy an opposing species. Belos with witches and The Collectors with Titans

Long story short, The Collectors inspired fear and turned it into worship. Belos did something kind of similar. Also, Boscha and Kikimora also established a tyranny in this episode. Just some food for thought

Back to the book, the section that the Collector crossed out hold some heavy implications.

("But should they meddle in our affairs, we'll clean the planet and scorch the air")

Not just the ones who opposed them, the planet itself.

The Boiling Isles would be an empty mass of boiling sea if it weren't for the titan's carcasses. Without them, there would be nothing there. What if this is because the Collectors reset the planet, burning away anything that once rose above the sea and raising the ocean's temperature to boiling levels in the fire.

Or at least that's my interpretation

So, based on the information we have, the Collectors may or may not have had the power to wipe out an entire planet. Yet, they seem to have been completely wiped out alongside the titans, except for just one of their young.

We know a titan was the one that sealed away our Collector, so we can assume that it was an evenly matched battle, the two species wiping each other out. (King and our Collector probably can't reproduce, so their as good as extinct)

Okay, at this point, we've figured out a rough theory on the Collector's history, but how does our Collector play into this?

It's made very clear that our Collector isn't fond of his predecessors. He's a kid with a lot of power and was probably bored by the other's ideas of doom and gloom and the tendency to destroy anything interesting.

So our Collector decided to start doing things his own way. It's clear he didn't decide to step away from the old ways out of sympathy, rather, it was because he's a bored, lonely kid who wants to do interesting stuff like play and make friends.

Does he have any role in the destruction of his species? We don't know. Personally, I think he was placed in the mirror when he was really young, leaving him with nothing but vague memories and a book to get to know his predecessors by.

I believe this because it would parallel him more with King, both of them not being able to remember their species.

I think if the Collector learned to listen to king, they could form a really nice, genuine friendship

409 notes · View notes

the-traveling-poet · 6 months

Note

Hi darling! Just found your account and your writing is AMAZING 😭❤️ I wanted to ask a Levi x fem!reader where they are married and the reader is particularly nervous, which she never is, and at some point she lashes out at Levi? Lot of angst and fluff please! (Also if you could maintain the canonverse, no modern au)

Thank you so muchhh ❤️❤️❤️

Differences

══════════════════════

Marriage was something you’d read so often about in your youth. It was a beautiful thing you hoped to one day experience. You longed for the day you find him; Mister Right.

Luckily, you’d found him. Corporal Levi Ackerman.

But marriage wouldn’t magically solve the way your two’s personalities sometimes clashed. To do that, you’d have to talk.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Husband!Levi x SO!Reader

Warnings: Angst-to-fluff, language, marital issues, slightly suggestive comments

SFW, Married!Reader, Cannon-verse, slightly suggestive

══════════════════════

A/N: Ofc lovely! Thank you so much, that makes my day to hear 🤎 So sorry for the wait, life got in the way!

As always, if this doesn’t fit your preference(a) I’ll happily rewrite.

Enjoy~

══════════════════════

Married life was something you’d never imagined you could obtain. It had been a dream of yours since childhood; you’d always wanted to walk down the aisle towards the man of your dreams dressed in all white; just like in all the stories you’d grown up reading about.

But years later, while in the Survey Corps, you knew this simply just wasn’t possible.

Not only was death knocking on everyone’s door the moment the gates opened for their expeditions, but…there weren’t a lot of suitors.

You might not have been picky but…damn.

So after some time, you’d given up looking for or seeking out any kind of romantic relationship while the Corps were still around to defend the people of Paradis.

That is, until the day you happened to meet Levi.

What had first started out as forced comradeship on the battle field, soon turned to a mutual respect for one another as you worked side by side over the many weeks spent out in titan territory together. And from there, your connection to him blossomed into one of friendship, which eventually led to a not-so-secret crush on your end. Little did you know them, he had begun to recognize he felt the same way about you that you did about him. It took some time, but after awhile he finally accepted he couldn’t avoid his emotions any longer.

By the time he had gathered the courage to finally ask you out, you’d both been enlisted for over a year. But you couldn’t have been happier when he stuttered out the question to you.

“W-would you kind maybe…Grabbing some tea after this? Maybe…T-together?”

Your love had been a whirlwind of emotions; good moments and bad sprinkled in between every milestone you passed with him at your side. But ups and downs were to be expected in new relationships, you knew.

From the first time you held hands, to the first “I love you”s, to the first time his bedroom door locked behind you as he led you towards his bed. You’d been over the moon with joy though it all.

Despite all the love you had for him, there were days you questioned wether he fully trusted you or not. He was always so silent, so reserved. He’d opened up to you a great deal, but you knew there were still some things left unsaid on his part. While you respected his wishes to not speak his mind at all times as you did, it still left a corner of doubt in your mind some days.

Until the fateful day he dropped down onto one knee in front of you a year into your relationship, you’d begun to wonder if he even felt as strongly for you as you did him.

Immediately, all your worries melted away the moment you walked up that isle towards the alter, taking his hands in yours as a ring was slipped onto your finger.

Well, almost all worries.

There were times throughout your married life where you felt he was keeping things from you. Not an affair, you knew. You trusted him with everything you were, he would never do something so heinous.

What worries you, was how differently your emotions sometimes clashed. Where he was always so calm and poised, keeping his emotions to himself, you were always rather high strung and vocal about what you felt when you felt it. So undeniably, this caused some discomfort for your peace of mind.

As of late, you felt as though he constantly underestimated you. To keep you safe, perhaps, but didn’t he know by now you could handle yourself?

One evening, you’d finally mustered up the mental strength to address this to him. He, of course, wanted you safe at all times. He loved you, he couldn’t bear to lose you. But you knew you hadn’t become a Captain by sheer luck. You knew what you were doing, and damnit if anyone thought you couldn’t do your job. But you were nervous. Nervous that maybe…Maybe, he was right?

“Levi,” you’d called out behind his office door, before swinging it open without invitation.

He looked exhausted, sitting behind his desk with a hand in his hair and a quill gripped tightly between his fingers.

“Y/N,” he greeted you absentmindedly, still focused on the document before him.

“Is this a bad time? Or…Can we talk for a moment?” You asked, keeping your voice and tone soft.

“Of course, I have time. Always do for you,” he sighed, but you noticed it was out of slight relief at being distracted from the work that laid before him. “What?”

Finding yourself softly smiling at his attention aimed your way, you shook your head to focus.

“I just wanted to ask…Do you trust me?”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“Are the MP’s shitty lackies? Of course I trust you,” he scoffed, attempting to overlook his off the wall joke in hopes of lightening your obviously nervous mood.

“Well, yeah, but…” You sighed. “You tend to shove those expedition folders away whenever I walk into the room. You don’t tell me everything that happens behind the closed doors of a meeting. I get you may not wanna worry me. And just…protect me…But we both know I’m capable. We both know I can handle things. I’m not a Captain for nothing.” You finally managed to scoff out.

Levi sighed, rubbing a hand down his brow.

“Can you? I know your strength outside the walls. But what if your emotional strength? If I told you about every happening within the walls I’ve been informed of, you might just shit yourself with worry.”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m the wife of humanity’s strongest soldier. If I can handle you, I can handle anything.”

“Oh please, you cried alongside Hange when those damn titan experiments got killed. If you can’t even handle that, what makes you think you could handle the truths of how this world is run? Let me deal with that. You just focus on leading your squad and coming back alive from every expedition.”

His words sent a familiar spark of doubt through you. You knew you could handle yourself, but if Levi doubted you could…We’re you really as good as you thought you might be? Was your rank as Captain falsely given?

The anxiety of intrusive thoughts started to eat you alive, and before you knew it you were shaking in your boots with both fear and sudden anger.

As anxiety bubbled up in your gut, it started to cloud your mind as well as your eyes as they glossed over with unshed tears.

“I see,” you managed to blurt out. “Am I really just something fun for you to come back to after meetings and expeditions? Am I not qualified for the title you gave me as Captain? If my husband doesn’t even trust my emotional state, what use even am I?”

“Y/N, darling, you know that’s not what I meant-“ Levi started, sudden alarm in his eyes.

“No, Levi. You always speak your mind. Why wouldn’t you with me, your wife? Of course you’d give it to me straight.” You laughed humorlessly.

“If I’m really so worthless to my fucking job, why didn’t you just say so? Why did you promote me? Why did you marry me? Someone so incompetent…Yes I’m fucking worried! I’m worried about this next expedition. I don’t feel my squad is ready. I don’t feel I’m ready. But yknow what, fine.”

You turned in your heel, scared to have Levi see the tears you’d been holding in finally spilling free. Your heart beat frantically in your chest, and your shoulders ached as the anxiety finally won over.

It had been years since you’d had an anxiety attack, but this had been the straw to finally break the camel’s back.

“Y/N, wait-“ Levi tried to call out, but you were already halfway through the door.

“I need some air,” you muttered before hastily closing his office door behind you and making your way down the cobblestone halls.

══════════════════════

By the time you sat alone on the roof of HQ, you’d begun to calm down. Physically, at least.

Deep down, you knew your husband meant well. And while you never liked to admit it, sometimes you needed reassurance. And his brash tone didn’t always do it for you.

But your respected it, nonetheless. Just as he respected you.

Even while knowing this, you sniffled and wiped at your runny nose. Maybe you were over thinking the whole thing…Or maybe you weren’t. What we’re you too believe? Love was complicated. It always had been.

The squeaking of door hinges broke through your thoughts. Wiping at your eye, you glanced over your shoulder and froze.

Levi strode towards your on the roof, his shoulders slumping in relief at finding you.

“Y/N, darling. You worried me,” he whispered as he made his way over to you and took a seat on the stone roof.

You both stayed silent for a moment, before it was too much for you to bear.

“Look, I’m sorry for taking my worries out on you.”

“No. Stop.” He shushed you softly. “I could have worded what I meant better…”

“No! No, it’s fine…I shouldn’t be so soft,” you cut him off with a sigh.

“Damnit woman, you’re so impatient.” Levi chuckled softly, putting an arm around your shoulders and holding you closer to him.

“Just listen for a moment? Yeah?” He whispered against your ear, causing you to shudder slightly at the familiar intimate action, but you nodded in understanding as you decided to keep quiet.

“Thank you,” he whispered before he continued. “Look, I know I’m not the best with words, darling. I try for you, I really do. But I suppose I could do better. You have my heart. Every piece of it. You occupy every thought in my mind, every day.” He rushed out, yet kept his soft and even tone.

“I love you. And I trust you. I always have, and I always will. I don’t keep things from you due to lack of faith. I just…” He paused with a deep sigh.

“I love you,” he repeated softly. “If I could bring you total peace and comfort, I would without a second thought. So with the circumstances we’re in, I try to do just that. I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I just want your life to be as stress free as possible, despite our fucking jobs. And if that means leaving information out while explaining plans to you, then so be it. But…I can see how it’s stressing you out, too.”

You listened on in amazed silence, finally seeing his side of things. Taking your sudden muteness as a sign to continue, he went on.

“I love you. That’s why I married you. I don’t want you to be as stressed as I am. I want to keep you away from those burdens. To protect you, yes. But…You’re all I have left. I want to keep that peace reserved. For the both of us. And I’m sorry I came across so…Brash? Harsh? Disinterested? Just please…Know that I love you, and I meant no ill will.”

He finished his long winded speech with a deep inhale and exhale, then remained silent. You’d never heard him speak that much in one sitting before, despite all your time together.

It touched you, deeply, inside your heart. How he was willing to do something like this for you; opening up and showing you all that he thought about. All he kept locked away in his mind and heart.

You felt yourself tearing up again, but this time out of relief and joy. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you put your arms around him as best you could in this position.

“Again, I’m sorry I blew up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, even if i misunderstood your intentions. I love you too, more than anything. And I want that peace, too. I want it more than anything…But I want to be included by you. To be with you. No matter how hard it may be right now, or however hard it may get in the future; I just want to be with you through it all. To have you lean on me like I lean on you.”

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered, resting his head atop yours. “I should have thought of it like that, and respected how differently we handle things. Mentally, and emotionally.”

He lifted his head off yours, and tilted your chin up with his hand to meet his sincere gaze.

“Tell you what; I’ll tell you everything I’m informed, if you promise to not doubt yourself so much.”

“Doubt myself?” you asked with a sniffle.

“Yes, you doubt yourself. I heard it today, just as you did. And I’ve seen it, before now. You’re not worthless, and you’re not weak. We both know I married one hell of a courageous and capable woman,” he winked playfully at you, causing you to giggle despite your raging emotions.

“So I’m not just something fun for you to return home to?” you teased him back.

“Well, you’re one hell of a temptress. And your damn good to me in bed. But no. I love you for you. For how strong you are. How resilient you are. How you can speak your mind so easily…I envy that, yknow? I love you, my darling Y/N.” He sighed, giving you a half smile as he tilted his face down to yours.

Catching the look in his eye, you allowed yourself to fully relax in his arms and lean into him, parting your lips slightly to capture his in a loving embrace.

He hummed softly in relieved pleasure against your lips, tilting his face down to deepen your passionate kiss. By the time you both needed to part for air, he had a rare smirk on his face.

“You’re one hell of a woman, you know that? Why would I ever distrust you? How could you think such a thing with such a beautiful ring on your finger?”

“Oh shut it, shorty,” you chuckled, shoving his shoulder playfully.

And just like that, every anxiety you might have had about the upcoming expedition, and about yourself as a person, vanished the moment his lips founds your again for a heated kiss on the roof of HQ.

Your evening might have started with anxiety, but it was sure to end in a reassuring passion only known by the two of you.

Taglist: @21aurora

If you want on the tag list for drabbles headcannons and one-shots, just DM me~

Also checkout my wattpad for more~

100 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 6 months

Text

November 9th 1903 saw the birth near Pittsburgh of Margaret Fay Shaw, the American writer who did much to record the music and culture of South Uist.

Margaret Fay Shaw was one of the most notable collectors of authentic Scottish Gaelic song and traditions in the 20th century. The arrival of this young American on the island of South Uist in 1929 was the start of a deep and highly productive love affair with the language and traditions of the Gaels.

Shaw was also an outstanding photographer, and both her still pictures and cinematography contributed to an invaluable archive of island life in the 1930s. She met the folklorist John Lorne Campbell on South Uist in 1934; they married a year later and together helped to rescue vast quantities of oral tradition from oblivion.

She came of Scottish Presbyterian and liberal New England stock. The family owned a steel foundry in Pittsburgh and her parents were cultured people. Margaret was the youngest of five sisters and her early years were idyllic. Her first love was for the piano and she continued to play throughout her life.

By the age of 11, however, she was orphaned and obliged to develop the independence of character which was to lead her into a life's work far removed from her upbringing. At the age of 16, she made her first visit to Scotland at the invitation of a family friend and spent a year at school in Helensburgh, outside Glasgow, where she first heard Gaelic song.

Wanting to hear it in its "pristine" state, in 1924 she crossed the Atlantic again, this time engaging in an epic bicycle journey, which started in Oxford and ended at the Isle of Skye, where she remained for a month. It was during this trip that she began to use photography to earn a living, selling prints to newspapers, and magazines such as the Listener.

But it was not until she arrived on South Uist that she found her spiritual home. She was invited to the "big house" in Lochboisdale for dinner, and two sisters who worked there, Mairi and Peigi Macrae, were brought in to sing for the company. Margaret had never heard singing like it. For the next six years, she became their lodger and dear friend. They shared with her all of their immense stock of oral tradition which she faithfully transcribed, learning Gaelic as the work proceeded.

Her most important published work was Folksongs And Folklore Of South Uist, which has never been out of print since it was first published in full by Routledge and Kegan Paul in 1955. Not only was it a scholarly presentation of the songs and lore which she had written down during her sojourn on the island, but also an invaluable description of life in a small crofting community during the 1930s.

This classic work was undoubtedly the centrepiece of Shaw's career, though she also wrote several other books, including an autobiography, From The Alleghenies To The Hebrides.

On the neighbouring island of Barra in the early 1930s, an extraordinary social set - a kind of Bloomsbury in the Hebrides - had developed around the presence of Compton Mackenzie. One of his closest collaborators was John Lorne Campbell, who came from landed Argyllshire stock and had developed his interest in Gaelic at Oxford.

The two patricians set about producing The Book Of Barra, a collection of the island's history and traditions, to raise funds for an organisation called The Sea League, which they had established to campaign for the exclusion of trawlers from Hebridean waters.

Hearing great reports of an American woman's photography on South Uist, Campbell crossed over by ferry to seek her involvement in illustrating The Book Of Barra. He walked into the Lochboisdale Hotel one rainy evening in 1934 and found Shaw sitting at the piano; a suitably romantic initiation to a relationship which was to last for more than half a century. They married the following year and made their home on Barra until, in 1938, Campbell bought the island of Canna, where they lived for the rest of their scholarly lives. The island was given to the National Trust for Scotland in 1981, and John Lorne Campbell died in 1996.

There was nothing dry or academic, however, about Shaw. She travelled regularly to America until her late 90s. The fearsome ferry journey between Mallaig and Canna was regularly undertaken with equanimity, and she fortified herself to the end with the finest Kentucky bourbon. Her love of the Hebrides was, above all, for the values and lifestyle of the crofting people, and, particularly in South Uist in that 1930s heyday, it was deeply reciprocated. It is there that she will be laid to rest.

During her latter years she stayed at Canna House until her death at the grand old age of 101 in 2004.

#scotland #american #scots-amerocan #folklorist #writer #history

96 notes · View notes

ladystarksneedle · 5 months

Text

Greedy

Summary: A lady at sea finds warmth amidst its endless waters.

Warnings: angst, mentions of voyeurism, infidelity, period typical sexism and misogyny, derogatory language, rumor mongering, slight canon divergence.

Word count: 7.5k

Dividers by @saradika

She clawed at the threads in her lap, entangling them for the third time as her husband droned on about the costs of war. There were ramparts, fortifications and more men needed at Tarth to stop the incursion of the Triarchy that he spoke of, agitating himself further as he paced before her, taking her absent minded humming in response to be borne out of interest. The “War of the Stepstones" as it had come to be known, was the newest point of conversation throughout the realm from the Blackwater to the Bay of Crabs, with every household eager to contribute their share of mockery, awe or support. The Valyrians, she thought, had always managed to entrench everyone in their affairs.

Sadly she hadn't found an inch of interest in the one before her.

She had been delivered to Claw Isle almost a year ago, packaged rather gaudily in fabrics of silk and gold, to be unwrapped by the lord of salty seas and misty air. He'd torn in rather clumsily, mistaking haste for pleasure, like a crab feasting at her shore, yet no tears came to her, all the salt had seemingly washed away before she'd entered Crackclaw point. The castle stood surprisingly tall, jutting out of the small island located to the south of Dragonstone, close enough to hear the roars of the beasts of long forgotten might and far enough to be sheltered from their unexpected wrath. She'd often look out her window, imagining what they'd look like, though a year had passed and she had yet to catch a glimpse of them. Some of the locals claimed they'd seen one, a “gray ghost” they'd called it, as elusive as the fog lining the seas, scaring away the fishermen trying to make their catch for the day. They were baseless rumors to her, all the same, recited idly at tea by the ladies of the Point, when they'd run out of their keepsake of slanders. Dragons to her were beasts of myth and true as they might be, posed no consequence to her life, until now.

“Prince Daemon has assembled an army of ten thousand men with Lord Corlys Velaryon. It would be folly to not join such an endeavor.”

“You mean to join the war?” she asked incredulously “We hardly have the numbers.”

“If those shipping lanes fall it affects us all dear wife or have you not been paying attention.”

“I have, husband” she huffed “But decisions made in haste cost dearly. Claw Isle boasts enough wealth to tide us through this predicament without meriting involvement, as you've proclaimed countless times yourself, why then should we waste our men and resources?”

“You're a woman Belinda and as witty as you might be, you do not understand the consequences of uninvolvement. Tarth may very well be under siege as we speak” he remarked.

“And what has the King to say for this expedition undertaken by his brother, I doubt it is with his full consent, ten thousand men seems quite less of a number for a royal army does it not?” she replied back “But yes you're right, I'm just a woman, what would I know about numbers when it is your forte dear husband. I shall leave you to your accounts in peace” she said as she left his chambers with a swift peck to his cheek, quick to evade his reply.

“You must learn when to keep your mouth shut daughter, the ability to do so shall last you long” her mother's words were tight around her neck, a noose waiting to throttle her should she stray too far and though she hadn't managed to keep her wayward tongue in check, she'd found out soon enough that scraps of affection meted out at opportune moments often did the trick.

Dinner proved to be less in her favor. Bartimos was ever eager in spirit, having invited the lords of the neighboring keeps to convene on pretext of merriment. While she sat drinking with the ladies whispering animatedly amongst themselves at the other end of the hall, she realized just how hard headed he could really be. Perhaps her mother was right and there was still more to learn.

“Have you heard the tales of Lady Swann? It is such a tragedy. I've heard she's been sold to a pillow house in Lys”

“She was always a wild one, I've heard. I'm sure she'll do just fine there” chirped Lady Crabb, ever the glutton at any such occasion.

“You have quite the tongue Lady Crabb, you must learn to hold it lest you earn the likeness of the Crabfeeder himself” snickered another.

“Perhaps he styles himself after your own lord husband” remarked Lady Brunes, her fellow at arms of wit.

“Jest all you want ladies, but there is some truth to it. My husband was knighted at the mere age of four and ten, how many of yours can claim such laurels. It will be him who'll bring glory back to Crackclaw point and you'll be all the fools for it” huffed Lady Crabb clawing at the pearls around her neck.

Being the youngest among them had its merits in times like these. Despite being the hostess she was seldom asked her opinions, merely considered to be in accordance with the consensus they reached as the wine dried up and their husbands returned to eagerly escort them back home. Feasts in the Crownlands often had one way of ending, with most of them on their backs. As the bed creaked below her, she realized her’s would be a happy one. Sweaty and sated, she lay next to him as he struggled to catch his breath, exhausting himself to fruition this once. Bartimos seemed to outperform whenever he had a point to make, in matters that required more convincing on his part. She only wished they were more in number and came more often.

“We shall leave for Driftmark in three days' time” he said as he turned to sleep, blowing off the candles near them. “It is a good thing Belinda, you'll come to realize soon enough. You'll even get to see those dragons you've been so curious about.”

“They do not interest me as much as you think” she thought “But if admitting to it makes you more amiable in bed I might as well go set up camp there, husband” she pondered as she drifted off to sleep dreaming of distant roars and crashing waves engrossed in a hazy tussle of their own.

Driftmark proved to be a much grander island. They'd sailed for a day to get there, bypassing Dragonstone on the way. The captain of their ship had pointed it out, a black speck of monstrous rock jutting out from the coast, with a multitude of deep rumbles reverberating through the masts, as they had sailed past. It felt ominous and rather insidious, intriguing enough for her to want to halt and explore for the first time since they'd left, but her husband wished for no time to be wasted and ordered them to sail ahead. High Tide shone bright under the sun as they'd arrived, its pale stone greeting them in a stark contrast to the home of their Valyrian overlords. The Castle was said to have been newly built by Lord Corlys with all the wealth he'd amassed on his nine voyages, its turrets gleaming haughtily at them with their beaten silver tops. They'd been ushered in shortly, with their infantry in tow to the “Hall of Nine” in attendance before him as he sat atop the Driftwood Throne.

“We welcome you to High Tide, Lord Bartimos. The support of the Celtigars, in these trying times is much appreciated” he boomed.

“Thank you for your graciousness Lord Corlys” he smiled as she fidgeted near him.

“Perhaps your lady wife would like to rest as we get to the matter at hand, the journey would have been quite tiring for those not accustomed to it” he said as she was ushered away to the depths of the Castle by one of the Velaryon ladies nearby.

“Princess Rhaenys shall receive you my lady, please follow me. I am Daena, cousin to Corlys in case you're wondering. We have assembled here to convene on our own council” she stated, leading her up the winding stairs to a hall overlooking the Bay. At its head sat none other than the lady of the manor, Rhaenys Targaryen, a tall woman with a welcoming smile in tow “Lady Celtigar so good of you to join us, welcome to High Tide.”

There were more than a dozen ladies in the room who turned to look at her, the Velaryons with their teal dresses and silver locks, a few from Crackclaw point that she recognised immediately, ladies Crabb and both the Brunes, of Dyre Den and Brownhollow, ladies Bar Emmon and Staunton and a few stromlanders judging by the intricate braids on their heads who greeted her in response. Lady Daena led her to her seat as they resumed speaking, each advocating for their preferred course of action. As she observed their leader at the head of the table listening intently to each prompt she wondered why a dragon rider such as her wasn't involved in the affairs of the main council. Noticing her inquisitive stare she turned to address them once again “We have dragons and they are more than sufficient to weed this Crabfeeder out of his cave. My son Laenor shall be joining Prince Daemon, leading from above though your support at both sea and ground is much appreciated. We shall soon be rid of this menace together” she spoke with pride. “We've hosted a feast tonight as an inauguration of our joint partnership. Please rest, explore and enjoy your stay before we meet again ” she concluded.

The beaches of Driftmark were a true wonder, she thought as she strolled along unbothered by the sand coating her stockings. They were unlike Claw Isle, with white sand stretching endlessly surrounded by pristine blue waters, secluded and picturesque. “Could wealth be used to acquire such beauty? Perhaps Lord Corlys’ expeditions had played a part in shaping the sea before her too” she considered enjoying her solitude. Her path soon led her to a hut, nestled away surrounded by a bed of grass, small enough to be overlooked, making her walk towards it, observing its peculiar vantage point overlooking the sea. As she passed through the rickety gate, she heard shuffling inside before coming across a man leaning against one of the posts. His eyes lit up as she came into view, trailing over her, before a smirk etched itself onto his face.

“Well Hello” he drawled lazily.

“Apologies my lord I didn't know someone was here” she replied hastily.

“Do you often walk into other's properties at will, my lady?” he inquired mockingly.

“I considered it abandoned” she flushed. “I was merely curious”

“Hmm” he said, appraising her “It is not safe to be wandering these waters alone, considering the threat that looms ahead”

“But I am not alone” she quipped back.

He chuckled as he made his way towards her.

“And what a sharp tongue you've got there. It would be a shame if that were the only weapon at your disposal”

“I don't think it wise for you to want to find out” she replied, standing her ground.

His smirk widened as he brushed past her, leaning down to whisper into the shell of her ear “Welcome to Driftmark my lady, your claws do you justice.”

Evening couldn't arrive fast enough. Her encounter with the man at the beach left her more shaken once she came to realize who he was. Bartimos spoke of the surprising absence of Prince Daemon from their war council, baffled as he dressed in haste. She merely shook her head in response, finding the lord or rather the prince she'd met, to be all the more intriguing. Dinner proved to be a lavish affair with an assortment of opulence. Dishes of roasted duck glazed with honey adorned the plates before them, along with sardines and roasted tomatoes coated with fennel and saffron. There were freshly picked cherries and apricots, apple and cinnamon pies and a heap of lemon cakes being passed around the hall, along with overflowing cups of Dornish red mocking the enemies they were to face. She sat next to known faces, taking comfort in familiarity amidst the novelty she'd found herself in, while Lady Crabb delighted in the feast before her, munching away wholly unbothered by her sullenness. Her husband was in better spirits after the toasts that had been made to their victory, conversing heartily with Lord Staunton as she looked about inquisitively.

Prince Daemon sat at the head of the table flanking Lord Corlys to the left looking disinterested as he sipped his wine, pretending to listen in to the conversation at hand. She smiled to herself at the glazed look in his eyes, present for a fleeting moment before wandering again to places far beyond her reach. One of the Velaryon lords next to Princess Rhaenys, Ser Vaemond, if she remembered correctly, said something which swiftly brought him back.

“Perhaps you'd like to find out for yourself Ser Vaemond, Caraxes would be all the more willing” he said smirking “A toast then” he spoke standing up as the chatter died down.“To our allies and their good health, may you weather the battle ahead well” he said as a few cheered in response. “And to our enemies, near and beyond, narrow be their deaths, narrow be their beds” he said looking around “To our appetite for war” he spoke at last, winking at him as the man below him gazed back in defiance “and more” he finished seemingly staring right at her. She squirmed with apprehension as the crowd erupted in cheers “Hear, hear” they chanted “To the Rogue Prince Daemon” , they continued, banging their cups on the spread in front.

She wondered if her husband realized what he partook in, as the celebrations continued, forever wanting for fame and glory begotten through company, only for her to be the unwitting recipient of the eye of the Dragon.

As the evening drew close and Bartimos drunkenly staggered through the halls supported by his peers, she fought back a scoff. He bade her goodnight, eager to continue his quest for companionship while she politely shut the door waiting to leave their chambers as soon as she felt the coast was clear. Drawing her robe close she snuck out to explore, excited at her newfound freedom, delighting in the sliver of opportunity she'd happened upon. High Tide was quiet as the waves lapped the shore in the distance, a peaceful contrast to the jeers of the evening. A few servants scurried about bowing as they passed by her without question, perhaps to tend to the many guests that the castle currently housed. It was relatively easy to navigate with its shiny walls of pale stone mixed with wood twisting to form an interesting maze. She passed by low chandeliers, banisters with carvings of sea creatures, walls of teal painted with murals of voyages at sea, retinues of Velaryon soldiers and seafarers shouting orders and rowing through storms, intricately decorating the hallways. Statues of oceanic figures greeted her, lining each corridor connecting together till she came upon one, wooden and endless, larger than the rest, with a small alcove at the end. Darting ahead at once to claim it for her own, she stopped as she heard an unfamiliar sound. A soft moan greeted her at the end followed by a series of grunts and the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against each other making her peer in. A maid lay bent over the edge, her dress ruched up to her waist as he pounded into her roughly muffling her sighs with his hand, her own clinging desperately to the railing ahead. “Quiet, I do not wish to hear you wench” he remarked, brutally thrusting into her as she whined. She watched, shocked and unable to move as he finished within her with a grunt, his silver hair falling over her shoulders, before turning around to face the door abruptly.

“It will never fail to amuse me how you find yourself in situations that do not concern you” her husband's voice rang through her ears as she ran out, only to find herself at the beach again. “You must learn your place wife and it isn't in every nook and corner of the castle” he'd remarked once, after her incessant interjections in an argument with his lord father. “The fool had some sense to what he'd said”, she thought, cursing herself loudly as she caught her breath. Admitting defeat had never felt so shameful, she sulked running her hands through her hair before turning around to find a voice addressing her.

“Couldn't sleep?”

“New waters, princess. I'm not used to change” she replied sheepishly.

“Hmm. You should have told Vanya, she's in charge of the guests. She'd have brewed you a nice tea, it works wonders for light sleepers”

“I presume you speak from experience” she ventured walking towards her.

“There is much to be thought of” she replied back as she welcomed her presence.

“You wish to join the war, contrary to what you spoke of at the council”

“What kind of dragon rider abandons their people in need. What am I, if not a warrior for a just cause”

“A ruler who knows when to step back” she countered.

“Those are flattering words, empty as they might be”

“I disagree, princess. Your children are young and you are needed here. Battles may not always be fought at sea or up in the air, the biggest ones often lie closer to home” she spoke, still unnerved by the night.

“You are wiser than your years Lady Celtigar”

“Many have called me rather impudent”

“And they always shall, anything otherwise would be to admit defeat” she scoffed.

“May I extend my impudence further tonight” she asked looking up at her in question “I think I know why you wish to join. Forgive my boldness but I feel a familiar reluctance in staying behind, with what has happened amidst those seas before”

She smiled ruefully in response. “Have you had the chance to see a dragon yet, Lady Belinda? Caraxes rests a few feet away from where we stand, slumbering in peace while his rider feasts for the night” she remarked causing her to turn abruptly “I fear I will not have peace till I fly to battle with him this once, a wish that was left unfulfilled years ago and a regret I hold with me still”

She looked around in unease before replying “It is not for me to advise you princess as I've often led myself off a cliff with my own words.”

“Do not fret he doesn't harm at will” she laughed sensing her distress. “Merely judges who he considers his prey”

“Like his rider” she wished to scream, smiling back at her instead.

“Sleep well my lady, I might require your impudence on the morrow after all,” she said before walking back to the Castle behind.

“There is no rest for the wicked” her mother used to say, scolding her when she acted out of impulse. “Your flights of fancy shall be the death of me” she'd scream as she chastised her for her conduct. The “morning after” drone on, just as painful to her as the throbbing in her husband's head, as he sat grumbling at breakfast.

“Seems like you had an interesting night” he remarked sullenly.

“What?”

“Princess Rhaenys was all praise for you at dawn.”

“Oh, it was nothing” she said as she tried to mask her raging thoughts, her mind wandering to a different head of silver that had caught her attention.

“Do not be so coy Belinda, it is good to see you putting yourself out there. Let them know what we stand for as a house” he said, sipping his tea.

“Your pride will be your downfall one day, husband, but I'm sure glad for it today” she thought, carefully evading the topic at hand.

The days that followed passed in a blur with her trying to make herself as scarce as possible and she'd found blending in with the decor a fine way of going about it. She'd attend meetings whenever she was called upon dressed in teals and blues, dine with her husband and their contemporaries adorned with silver, gossip idly with the ladies at sessions in sapphire, butting in more often, hoping to be included more but most of all she vowed never to stray out of company whenever she could, for she knew he was around, waiting to strike when she least expected it.

“There you are little trespasser” he'd caught her by the arm swinging her to the side on one such occasion, her burnished gold gown taunting her absurdity.

“Unhand me now or I'll scream”

“I doubt you would little mouse, I think you seem to take an undue amount of pleasure in depravities as such”

“I don't know what you mean”

“Don't play coy now, it doesn't suit you as much as you'd like it to” he retorted sharply

“I didn't mean to barge in on you, it was an accident”

“Hmm as are most instances you find yourself in, yes?”

“I am telling the truth,” she said, squirming in his grasp.

“Now what would your husband think, hmm, were he to find out, compromising yourself not once but twice” he whispered, twisting her towards him, pulling her flush against his chest.

“I have done nothing of that sort, you seem to mistake mischance for willingness”

“I am under no illusion my lady, but anyone in your current predicament would beg to differ” he said smirking as a few curious lords passed by them in the hallways whispering to themselves as they looked away abruptly.

“Walk with me and let me put you out of your misery” he replied, tugging her along, as he took her arm into the crook of his elbow, swiftly guiding them towards the other end of the hall.

“I want nothing more to do with you, my prince. Please leave me alone”

“Now where's the fun in that” he laughed humorlessly “Do not take me for a fool lady Celtigar, I’d prefer it if you'd play along”

She huffed as she followed him out onto familiar territory, the sandy soil welcoming her once again.

“You are married, what would your lady wife think if she found out” she said trying to dissuade him.

“I think she'll be all the more happier for my absence, something you and I might have in common” he retorted, eyes twinkling as he gazed down at her.

“I don't know what you mean” she said which earned her a click of his tongue in response.

“Bartimos is nothing but kind. He's faithful and just, I could ask for nothing more from a husband” she said after a pause.

“Perhaps you'd prefer a dog instead if that is what pleases you in a man” he huffed “Or was that your reason to linger last night?” She blushed furiously in response as he laughed at her silence.

“You presume too much”

“I only say what I think. Life is too short to hide behind false pleasantries.”

“One needs to be amiable enough to get by, not everyone has the veil of protection of a dragon rider”

“It is not Caraxes that speaks to you now, as much as you'd like, I am more myself when I say as I do.”

“And what exactly do you wish to achieve out of this” she asked, stopping as she stood before him.

“To unwind that needle you've stuck up yourself” he said “Your husband's brought you here all dolled up to decorate his empty promises, espousing might and support when all he has to his name is a house of Crabs with too few men. I do not need the likes of foolhardy lords who'll run the moment they come to face real danger.”

“What do you want then, my prince? We've come here with goodwill and whatever we have to offer” she said plainly

“I think you have far more to offer.”

“If you've come to ask me to bed you, I'd prefer it if you said so plainly”

“If I wanted to bed you I wouldn't need to ask and I don't mean taking you as an unwilling partner, as pretty as you might be”, he replied, turning a lock of her hair in his hands “You'd come to me willingly”

“Then it seems we are at an impasse” she replied. “I cannot give you what you want nor do you possess anything I seek”

“How do you know?”

“What”

“How do you know what it is that you wish to seek?” he asked “How does someone so sheltered know what they want if they haven't seen what life has to offer”

“What is it that you think I want then”

“A taste of the unknown,” he replied, looking towards the sea.

She stared after him for a moment choosing to continue beside him, the silence between them feeling akin to punishment as they made their way ahead. He stopped soon to pick up a tiny crab running across the shore.

“That is your husband,” he said, examining the creature.

“Come now, that is cruel”

He laughed before pointing towards it again “Look at its legs and tell me what you see”

“It has threads attached to it”

“They're not threads. They're remnants of flowers that thrive deep below

the seas, of colors so bright they'd put a Tyroshi head to shame” he said turning it around for her to look “Flowers like these cling to the crab, beautifying it, helping it forgae the sea weeding out prey, a perfect companion won't you say” he continued watching her swallow “Yet when this little soldier feels the need to return ashore he discards his companion to the solitude of the sea” he finished before tossing the crab aside.

“I am not a flower” she said lifting her head up in defiance “To be discarded so easily”

A broad grin lit up his face as he nodded at her continuing down his path.

Preparations for the war soon ramped up, prolonging her discomfort. She felt stifled putting up smiles, talking incessantly to fill the silence lest she be drawn back in, while he lingered on. She began seeing him more frequently, at most meals of the day. A few of the men had taken to dining with their ladies, mostly those of importance to the warfront and with Bartimos finally being offered a place at the table it was hard to refuse his advancement. She began sitting with them stiff as a board, his gaze burning into her across the spread before them, ashamed to be the cause of her husband's newfound happiness. Watching him drink and talk with pride oblivious to the danger that lay ahead of them both prompted her to consider the nagging thought in her head, perhaps she needed to be his sea flower at last.

He was relentless in his pursuit all the while, smirking with his head tilted to the side whenever she caught him looking, observing her with a heavy gaze waiting to strike again.

It came to a head finally, one sunny morning. She didn't know what possessed her to go to the council room, perhaps it was to seek out Bartimos, as a warning or with counsel itself, but she had opened those great oak doors only to find him inside. He sat alone at the head, with one foot propped up on the map before him, eyes looking out the window, disinterested and lost.

“Are you here to apologize again?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in question.

“I was looking for my husband. Since he's not here I shall leave you to it”

“Ever the dutiful wife, byka embar rūklon”

“Don't call me that”

“Hmm” he chuckled. “Given that he's occupied at the moment, what can I do for you, my lady?” he said standing up.

“Must we keep coming back to it” she replied back, exasperated.

“It is you who makes things difficult”

“Hardly. I've told you what I do not want, I think that should make things much easier for us both”

“You may speak all you want but it's the things left unsaid that matter the most” he continued, before they were interrupted by a servant. She turned to look at her in shock as she greeted him, striding forwards to fill his cup to the brim, privy to all their secrets. He grinned at her expression as he held up a hand

“Leave it and tidy up those scrolls like I taught you” he remarked dismissing her as she wordlessly turned her back to them.

“Now this must be a familiar sight to you” he chuckled, addressing her.

“Your cupbearer” she asked, switching to High Valyrian delighting in his pleased expression.

“Yes it is quite convenient. She knows when I'm full”

“How ingenious” she remarked dispassionately.

“Come on, it's fun”

“To see her each morn, when you're discussing matters of importance and know how you'll be having her at dusk? Was this the unknown you spoke ok?” she spat

“Stand up, let me show you something” he remarked suddenly as he led her to the window.

“To anyone who walks in now, I'm showing you how the sky melts into the sea, explaining to you the foreign territory we'll soon find ourselves in, ” he said, moving close to her.

“What concerns us, is how I've ordered her to tidy up everything. All the scrolls and there are a hundred of them, before she thinks of lifting her head up again” he whispered as she heaved at his proximity, her back flush against his chest.

“We could do whatever we want and she wouldn't move an inch” he hummed against her ear pulling her close. “No one would know, for the reward that awaits her at dusk”

“Obedience for pleasure” she sighed as he tilted her head up gazing into her eyes.

“Precisely” he grinned, grabbing her neck without warning.

“What will you choose, embar rūklon?” he said brushing his nose violently against hers. She bit his lip in response, delighted with his painfully grunt as she tasted him, metallic and raw, of blood and smoke.

“I think that suffices as an answer ” she responded breathlessly, crashing her lips against his.

As she walked out the door later, she noticed the neatly arranged scrolls in the corner with seven cups lined in order, ready for each member of the council to use. The dragon behind her grinned greedily, having found yet another conquest to his name.

Daemon Targaryen was more beast than man, she'd come to learn over the days that followed. As the time to leave finally drew close and tempers ran hot at council meetings, his thirst for flesh increased, seeking her out in shadowed corridors, grasping and rutting into her savagely. She'd be showered with equal affection later on masking the bruises marking her skin. Jewellery of pearl and rubies adorned her pulse points, bitten and sore from their heady encounters as she strutted around with unfaltering poise delighting in her newfound routine. She had come to enjoy their little game, often finding ways to excuse herself to explore another hideaway the castle had to offer, leaving it separately with the lingering smell of their sweat and arousal. Despite the intensity of their meetings it was the aftermath she had come to cherish the most, when he'd kiss the crown of her head after pulling her hair, or play with her wrists as he drew her close. The little trinkets that she hid among her dresses, made her heart beat faster whenever she sat looking out at sea smiling to herself as her company chatted on.

“I got you something”

“What is this?” she laughed “A bird of paper?”

“There is a technique they use in Yi-Ti, where they make creatures out of paper, style them as they like '' he said “This is a crane shown to me by a merchant in passing, as a token for the hefty purchase I made. They say if you make a thousand of these the Gods grant you anything you desire.”

“I thought you didn't believe in the Gods,” she mocked.

“I do not but there isn't a man more foolish than the one who doesn't appreciate beauty, in all forms” he smirked.

“There is a catch though” he said, pulling it away before she had the chance to grab it.

“There always is, isn't it”

“If and when you make a thousand of these you'll be granted but a single wish. I would choose one carefully embar rūklon”

She closed her eyes as she thought smiling to herself.

“Not now”

“Ah but what if I wish for something this very moment, what's to stop me”

“You play by my rules alone byka gevie, never forget” he said pulling her towards him delighting in her laughter.

As much as he'd claimed ownership of the people in his service Daemon had glossed over a singular fact common to all women alike, they preferred nothing more than a fresh rumor served cold. From the smallfolk to the ladies in their fine towers, each held a kinship to one another when it came to gossip, spreading it far and wide. Rumors of her entanglement with the dragon prince spread like wildfire, with fresh tongues wagging in her direction, holding her accountable with their judgy eyes and insolent mouths. His little cupbearer was the one responsible, she thought as she found herself cornered, how fitting it was to be felled by the keeper of his secrets.

The most disappointing though, was the reaction of the lady she'd lent her sympathy to days ago.

“I'd like to give you a piece of advice Lady Celtigar” she remarked one morning

“You are young and have many years ahead of you, do not waste it in pursuit of fleeting pleasure. I know what it's like to feel constrained and alone. When my husband went off on his travels across the world it was I who held fort here, braving it all, ensuring our legacy wouldn't be tarnished by even a wisp of bitterness. You will soon be put in a similar position and you won't weather it should you choose to continue as you are now” she said plainly. “A woman's reputation makes or breaks her family and her house. It is the most important tool you have in your arsenal and you must learn to weild it well.”

“I can take care of myself Princess. My impudence shall weather me through whatever storm awaits me yet, besides you have a dragon to protect you, I doubt it was your diplomacy that carried your legacy forwards”

“And now you've found yours” she remarked with distaste. “Heed my warning my lady, I have known my cousin long enough to realize he always does as he wants. He will not change no matter how much you wish for it to be so” she said as she left her in thought.

The storm at her horizon approached faster than she could have anticipated striking the pearls around her neck first, with an innocuous question posed at dinner.

“That is such a beautiful necklace my lady wherever did you get it”

“Oh it is one of the many treasures of our house” she countered “A little trinket, one of many the Celtigars boast. We have chests of ancestral rubies, Myrish carpets, Volantene glass, jeweled cups and more that await you at Claw Isle should you choose to visit” she remarked satisfied with turning the conversation at hand. If only it had been so easy.

“Where did you get that Belinda?” Bartimos asked cornering her when they were alone

“The necklace? It is one of the many you've given me”

“Do you take me for a fool” he scoffed

“I don't know what you mean, if not then it must belong to one of the chests back home”

“I know every gift that I've ever given you Belinda, your honeyed words fool no one” he said looking at her with contempt.

“Do you think I don't know what's been happening behind my back? Do you think I'm such a fool to not recognise how you've been whoring yourself while I have been away and for what” he asked, ripping them from her neck “Pretty trinkets that I'd buy you had you bothered to ask? Are you so starved for attention to be acting as such. Do you know what they call you? '' he screamed “They call you the Harlot of Driftmark! The Whore of High Tide who's been strutting around the Castle with her cheap keepsakes. Why must you act as such? Have I not given you enough?”

“You're one to talk, have you even bothered looking at me this once. Ever since we've stepped foot on this dreaded island you've done nothing but jest and play at your war never bothering to inquire how I've felt. Ever since I've married you, you've never made the effort. Do you think I want your wealth and all the treasures that you hoard with your claws, boasting at every opportune moment? It makes you look like the fool that you are Bartimos” she screamed “If you'd just asked me once, if you'd just listened to what I had to say, to what I've felt this past year, things would have been-”

“If I had listened to you then you wouldn't have fucked him, is that it then?”

“Why don't you love me?” she cried “Why is it always honor and virtue and claiming and parading myself as yours when I am anything but. I've never been yours because you haven't let me. Why don't you want me as I am”

“Neither does he. He doesn't see you as anything more than a vessel for his pleasure, ripe for taking and you are a fool for thinking otherwise, just as I am for thinking you'd ever want me” he said looking at her in pain.

“I shall leave on the morrow. You shall be escorted back shortly with Lady Crabb. Say your goodbyes as I have none for you”

The noose felt tight around her neck as she wiped the wetness staining her cheeks, the tears she'd wished for had come at last.

It was dawn when she ventured out again, awoken by the shrill roar of Caraxes taking flight. She rushed to his chambers barefoot with a robe covering her, only to find them empty. A wail left her throat as she collapsed near his bed clutching the sheets, sitting still on the floor gazing at his walls, lost and alone till the sun rose and her tears dried up. The time to lament was over. The mirror at the entrance caught her attention, alerting her to her haggard appearance. She looked at the bags under her eyes, puffy and glistening as she walked towards her reflection, noticing a cushion nestled beneath. On it lay a single paper crane greeting her solemnly.

“It is time for you to do your duty, embar rūklon just as it is time for mine. To the unknown you've been searching for”, she read through hazy eyes running her fingers over the scrawled words on its wings.

The journey back to Claw Isle proved to be an arduous one. She felt their eyes on her as she boarded the ship, when she stood on deck and when she took her meals in silence on board, their judgment never leaving her. She wished for nothing more than to be sequestered in her home once again, laughing to herself at the irony of it all. She had often heard the tale of the weary seafarer glad to return home after his travels, delighting in its familiarity and Claw Isle had never felt more welcoming than it did now. As she stepped onto the beach leading up to the Island, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. She spent the next few days in silent contemplation, barring visitors and well wishers alike. She went on long walks, worked on her embroidery, read whatever she could find in the castle library and kept herself as occupied as she could, though the thing about an idle mind was that it soon merited thought. The news of the warfront floating around crept up to her soon. The advancement of the Velaryon forces on Bloodstone with Prince Daemon and little Lord Laenor's assistance spread rapidly delighting noble and commoner alike, for a war involving dragons had been fought after so long and the gossip accompanying it proved even meatier. She heard it in passing as her maids whispered to themselves, mentions of herself with Prince Daemon graced the hallways as well as chuckles at Bartimos and his misfortune of being stuck with her. It was the twentieth day of the fifth moon when she decided to confront it all, bringing out and dismantling the object of her ire. The crane was easy to take apart, soggy from its travels at sea and as the wet parchment of paper stared at her she remembered why it was given to her in the first place. Over the next few moons she learnt how to make one, it was easy enough with no shortage of paper for anything to be considered amiss. Every night before she went to bed she crafted a little bird with her hands, closing her eyes and stuffing it away come morning. The war carried on as did her own effort at home.

Almost three years later when she had diligently made her last one she sat staring at it in silence, crying to herself as she closed her eyes, thinking her effort had perhaps all been in vain.

News of the war reached her a fortnight later, Prince Daemon had killed Craghas Drahar, slicing him from head to torso, styling his weapon into a crown, calling himself the “King of the narrow sea”. It had been a happy occasion for all of Crackclaw Point uplifting their spirits enough for her to invite the neighboring ladies to tea. They had all won and a celebration was to be hosted in their honor. As the castle was tidied up and the ornaments brought out, she noticed a giant red crab placed near the entrance welcoming the guests she was to host, on its back writhing and beautiful were a myriad of familiar coloured threads.

“What is that” she asked the Castellan as he caught her looking.

“Those are sea flowers my lady, nestled upon the great crab’s back. It is a beautiful relationship they share in harmony, uplifting one another. The flower beautifies the crab as well as helping it forage while being offered protection inturn. No other creature of the sea dare touch it's beauty as long as the crab stands vigil”

A looming sense of dread washed over her as she excused herself from the hall, rushing to find the old crane. As she sifted through her drawers desperate to find it among the thousand others she'd made she felt herself grow weary and tired, frustrated as she collapsed to the floor. Each crane she'd found was henceforth burned in the hearth before their bed, meticulously chucked into the fire as she watched them be swallowed by the flames. Her wish had finally been fulfilled.

Bartimos returned nearly four moons later to a full house and a happier wife. His apprehension at seeing her was soon eclipsed by her contagious demeanor. She apologized to him, with Rhaenys' advice fresh in her mind, wishing to make amends to which he acquiesced soon after a moon of coaxing. The rumors still reached them from time to time yet she had him, to weather them together. Prince Daemon's lady wife soon passed away. A hunting accident they'd called it followed by the scandal of the Jade tiara from Yi-Ti, his hefty purchase she'd assumed finally coming to fruition. The deflowering of his niece in the capital brothel followed soon, as her belly swelled and by the time he'd returned to wreak havoc on the royal wedding she had laughed at it all mirthlessly.

When he took a new bride five moons later in the form of Lady Laena Velaryon she took it well with a stiff lip, mind drawn to the Red Queen herself and as her confinement approached a few moons later and she lay in bed she found the old crane at last. Scrawled illegibly on one of its wings was part of the phrase her hazy eyes had missed moons ago

“To the unknown you've been searching for and for the one you've helped me find.”

She crumpled the weary crane in her lap clawing at it as her husband droned on recounting the accounts of the castle for the moon. The Valyrians, she thought, had always managed to entrench everyone in their affairs.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon x oc #bartimos celtigar x oc #house celtigar imagine #daemon imagine #zae's fics #hotd imagine #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgotocs #hotd fics

91 notes · View notes