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heizlut · 2 months

Note

Okay, this thing has been in my mind lately... But could you do Semi-Dragon Zhongli and Full legacy Childe with afab!reader? Like dude with their size?? I would die of it and love it at the same time (your writing is so good btw i really love it ngl)

rip to reader because there’s no way she’s getting out of this without being pregnant 💀 also wanted to add little something and make zhongli have two cocks since he IS part dragon during this hehe

Beasts Within

cw: size difference, rough sex, monster cock obvs, forked tongue (zhongli), monster tongue (childe), two cocks (zhongli), anal/vaginal fucking at the same time, throat fucking, honestly rip reader

tags: sub!afab reader, semi dragon!zhongli, foul legacy!childe, dom!chars, mostly proofread, they/them pronouns for reader

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺

You got yourself in quite the situation here. After challenging your boyfriends stating you could handle the both of them at the same time in their inhuman forms, you found yourself sprawled out naked on your large bed.

Childe looms over you in his foul legacy form, eager at the idea presented to him. Zhongli stands with his arms crossed, giving you a stern look, “This is ridiculous. I do not want you to be harmed. You know how different we are when we are not fully human…”

You pout at him, “Come onnn… Don’t ruin the fun. I’ll be just fine.” Childe looks to Zhongli, taking on the same pouty tone you had, “You know you wanna fuck them in your other form. Just do it!” Zhongli huffs, dropping his arms, “Do not say that I did not warn you…” And with that, two curved horns adorn his head, his amber eyes and markings glow, and his fingers become pointed at the tips.

You were obsessed with seeing your men in these forms. Yes, of course you loved them when they looked their usual selves, but something about their otherworldly forms made you ache for them. Zhongli’s narrowed gaze makes you shiver, “There’s no going back from this.”

Childe was the first to make a move as he leaned over you, “Give me a kiss.” You knew the drill, you opened your mouth as his slimy tongue made an appearance. It always felt strange as it licked at your lips, tangling with your own tongue, then forcing it’s way down your throat. You gag from the feeling and tears prick your eyes, but he doesn’t remove his tongue from your throat.

Zhongli moves towards you, taking in the way you looked as you did your best with Childe’s “kissing”. His lips form a smirk as he positions his mouth in front of your soaking pussy. His eyes flit to yours and without a word, his forked tongue licks a stripe through your folds and to your clit.

You buck your hips, wanting more but without the ability to say so. Both men chuckle at this, but Childe is the one who speaks up, “Aww does the needy slut wanna say something?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, unable to make a retort with his long tongue still exploring your mouth. Zhongli spreads your folds carefully with his thumbs, watching as your home clenches around nothing, “It appears you’re in need of more stimulation. I can fix that…”

His forked tongue gathers your arousal and begins to relentlessly flick at your clit. He leans closer, sucking your clit into his mouth and gently nibbling. You whimper and sputter around Childe’s tongue and Childe is kind enough to retreat it. He grasps your jaw in his own pointed fingers, making you look down at Zhongli, “Look closely at what he’s doing to you…” You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. The way Zhongli’s forked tongue moved so skilfully made your legs shake.

Childe huffs, annoyed at the lack of attention when he was the one who made you look at Zhongli. His grip tightens on you and tilts your head up harshly to look at him, “It’s not fair you’re getting all the pleasure here… Get my cock out.” He releases his grip and allows you do what he demanded all while you were letting out delicious moans from Zhongli’s ministrations.

Once Childe’s cock was freed, you ran your thumb over the slit, gathering pre cum on your fingertip. A groan comes from deep in his chest, the sound deeper than usual in this form. He laced his fingers through your hair, “Suck it. I wanna feel good too.” You fought back from telling him how whiny he was being, knowing that provoking him in this state would not be the brightest idea.

The slutty moan that came from Childe’s mouth pleased you, as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip and teasing the slit. The vibrations Zhongli’s dark chuckle went straight to your clit, making you moan around Childe’s length. Zhongli pulls away from your dripping cunt and looks to Childe, “I hate to interrupt but our dear here would be better on her hands and knees, wouldn’t you agree?”

If Childe could glare at him through his mask, he would. He pulls your head away from his cock, grumbling the whole time. You do your best not to laugh as you adjust your position to your hands and knees on the bed. Your amused thoughts were quickly interrupted by Zhongli’s hand making contact with your ass and you gasp. “I do hope you are ready for this…”, his voice deep and laced with a threat.

Before you can ask what he meant, Childe grips your hair yet again, pushing the tip of his dick against your lips, “Get back to it. I’m hardly finished yet.” You obediently open your mouth and he’s quick to shove his dick back down your throat. Distracted by this, you startle when you feel not one, but two cocks behind you. So that’s what Zhongli meant….

Your eyes roll back when you feel Zhongli slip inside your pussy first, but you nearly choke on Childe’s length when you feel Zhongli’s second cock prod at the tight rim of muscle as well. The noises of concern you made around Childe’s thick member didn’t do anything to stop Zhongli from slowly pushing into your ass. Zhongli’s fingertips dig into your hips as he buried himself to the bases of both cocks.

His head tilts back and his eyes squeeze shut, the feeling of being in both holes at once was unreal, “I apologize, but you did ask for this…” Zhongli pulls back then thrusts hard into both just as Childe forces himself deeper down your throat. Both men grunting and groaning in pleasure while you were filled up in every hole. Drool drips down your chin and onto the bed as your mind goes completely blank.

Both men thrust in tandem, causing you to cum uncontrollably on one of Zhongli’s cocks, while your tight asshole squeezed his other cock so tight he was sure it would fall off. He lands another smack to your ass as he growls, “Loosen up or I will not be able to continue.” You do your best to try to relax your body, but it doesn’t help that Childe was throat fucking you now. His large cock slipping down your throat as it tightened around his length involuntarily, “Swallowing my cock like a good little whore. Keep it up and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

You try so hard to keep up with Childe’s forceful pace as Zhongli decides he can move again. It didn’t take long for them to get back into the same rhythm they held before; each cock in and out and the same time. Zhongli’s glowing eyes shoot to Childe in a look that told him he was about to cum. Childe gives a single nod and with a final thrust from both men, loud growls and moans fill the room. Childe’s cum spills down your throat and Zhongli’s shoots into both holes. Never have you been filled to the point of feeling this ridiculously full.

All three cocks begin to soften and slip from your body to which you effectively collapse face first on the bed. Cum leaked from your pussy and ass, a sight that made both of them want to go again. Childe almost suggested it, but when he tilted his head to see your face, you had passed out from exhaustion, making him chuckle as he transformed back into his human form. Zhongli raised a brow, transforming as well, “Are they sleeping?” Childe nods and Zhongli sighs, “Go retrieve the wash cloths, please. Let’s clean them up.”

Hours later, you awoke sandwiched between the two of them. You sigh to yourself with a content smile and snuggle even further into the bed.

⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺

a/n: i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy this anon!!

taglist: @stygianoir

#zhongli smut #childe smut #foul legacy smut #zhongli x reader smut #childe x reader smut #foul legacy x reader smut #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

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sexhaver · 1 month

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can you tell us all the plugins / ad blockers you use

on desktop, uBlock Origin (NOT Adblock Plus! they sold out years ago! they literally take money from advertisers to make sure their ads get through their filters!) and SponsorBlock for Firefox. if you still see ads on youtube specifically check out this page. if it's green, then the problem is with your specific installation and you should check out this reddit megathread. if it's red, then tough luck, wait a few hours for uBlock's crack team of hackers to catch back up in their constant arms race with Youtube.

for Android, get ReVanced Manager from here and use that + an .apk download of the latest Youtube release (just google "youtube apk") to patch yourself together a version of the Youtube app that acts like you paid for Advanced even though you didn't, which means no ads. also, side tangent, that's where the name comes from: originally it was just "Youtube Vanced" because it was "Advanced" without the "ad"s. then the Vanced team got slapped with a C&D for being dumbasses and minting NFTs of the Vanced logo, which was literally just the Youtube logo, so ReVanced rose from the ashes to continue its legacy. oh also there are a shitload of boxes you can check off during the patching process and one of them just integrates Sponsorblock for you, so that's nice.

i should also mention here, for no reason in particular, that the Vanced Manager app lets you patch a number of other apps in the same way, removing ads and adding "premium" features without you having to pay. one of these apps may or may not be Tumblr itself.

as long as you're fucking with your Android, download xManager and use it to get ad-free Spotify without paying for it. iirc the app auto-downloads the apk for you but it's been months since i last fucked with it so i might be misremembering.

honorary mention goes to NewPipe for being a way easier to install alternative to all of the above if you don't care about logging in. it's an alternate frontend for youtube that lets you watch it ad-free right out of the box. the main drawbacks are that the UI is a little ugly (especially compared to the official/ReVanced version), you can't use Sponsorblock, and it doesn't sync with your Google account (this could be a plus for you if you're big into privacy but personally i like having my likes and watch history synced across desktop and mobile). although now that i just did some research to make sure i wasn't talking out my ass, it looks like the original dev is working on a forked version of the app named Tubular that does have Sponsorblock and is apparently trying to get google account stuff working, so that's cool. oh and it can also browse/play Soundcloud ad-free, if you still use Soundcloud in 2024

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zapreportsblog · 7 months

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Could you do something with the Cullens where the reader has a meltdown at school and they find out it’s because they have diabetes and their blood sugar dropped and they can’t find their juice box they packed just in case

❝i need a juice box❞

✭ pairing : cullen siblings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) has diabetes and their sugar intake tends to drop quite a bit hence why their always remember to bring a pack of juices with them everywhere, not only does it help but it’s tasty too. But then one day her juice boxes bust in her locker, so what does any frustrated person do? Have a mental breakdown like it’s the end of the world, luckily some classmates of hers has her back

✭ authors note : Ayo ignore that juice part that says no sugar added 😭 i used the first picture i seen of juice and those shits be bustin. Ah and I’ve been watching anime lately so i apologize in advance for the lack of writing I’m putting out

✭ twilight masterlist 2

(Y/N) had always been well-acquainted with the delicate balance of her health. Diabetes wasn't just a condition for her; it was a family legacy. With half her family members wrestling with the same ailment, it was almost a rite of passage.

The sun had barely risen over Forks as she hurriedly got ready for her first day at Forks High School. This new beginning was daunting enough, but it became even more challenging with the knowledge that her diabetes would be a constant companion throughout the day.

As she zipped up her school bag, she made sure to slot in her lifeline - a package of juices. These juices were her safety net, ensuring her blood sugar levels stayed within a safe range. She had diligently followed this routine every day, her tiny insurance policy against hypoglycemia.

With her backpack securely on her shoulders, (Y/N) headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her mom greeted her with a warm smile, understanding the importance of this daily ritual. "Don't forget your juices, dear," she reminded.

(Y/N) grabbed the chilled package from the fridge and slipped it into her bag. "Thanks, Mom," she said, returning the smile. Her mom's familiarity with diabetes had always been a source of comfort.

Minutes later, she was out the door and on her way to Forks High School. The campus buzzed with excitement, but (Y/N) couldn't help feeling a bit of trepidation. New school, new faces, and the relentless specter of diabetes were a lot to handle.

History class was her first stop, and she found a seat next to a boy named Jasper. They exchanged polite nods as she settled into her chair, trying to focus on the teacher's introduction.

Then it happened. A discreet but insistent beep emanated from her wrist. Her watch timer, meticulously set to remind her when to take her juice, had gone off. This was the crucial moment to maintain her blood sugar levels. With practiced ease, she reached into her bag to retrieve her juice, only to discover her heart-sinking realization – it wasn't there.

Panic started to creep in, her fingers trembling as she fumbled through her bag in desperation. Jasper, noticing her distress, leaned closer. "Is everything okay?" he asked in a concerned whisper.

(Y/N) could feel her face flush with anxiety. She mumbled, "I think I left my juice in my locker. I need to go get it."

The teacher, Mrs. Thompson, glanced their way. "Is there a problem?"

(Y/N) stuttered, "I just need to grab something from my locker. It won't take long, I promise."

Mrs. Thompson nodded, granting her permission to leave the class. Her heart raced as she hurried out the door, fervently hoping that her juice would be where she thought it was.

(Y/N) practically sprinted through the hallways, her heart pounding in her chest. The idea of waiting another four hours until lunch without her juice was unbearable. She needed to retrieve her lifeline from her locker, and she needed it now.

Finally, she reached her locker, a sense of relief washing over her as she yanked it open. But that relief quickly turned to frustration as she stared at the sight before her. Her textbooks had fallen over and, in a cruel twist of fate, had crushed the juice boxes. Their colorful packaging was torn and sticky liquid seeped from the ruined containers.

"No, no, no," she muttered in frustration, tears welling up in her eyes. It felt like the universe was conspiring against her today, and the overwhelming weight of her situation crashed down on her shoulders. Her mind raced with thoughts of how she would make it through the day without her juice.

Just when it seemed like her world was spiraling out of control, a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?" It was Rosalie, a girl she barely knew, but one of the few familiar faces in this new school.

(Y/N) blinked back tears and explained what had happened, her voice quivering with anxiety. "I don't know what to do. I can't wait until lunch without my juice."

Rosalie glanced at the sticky mess inside her locker and then at Emmett, who had joined them. "That's totally not cool," he said, sympathy in his eyes. "I'll grab you something from the vending machine. What do you want?"

(Y/N) opened her mouth to protest, but before she could utter a word, Emmett had already taken off down the hallway. She looked helplessly after him, torn between gratitude and a sense of intrusion.

Rosalie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it," she said with a warm smile. "Once Emmett's made up his mind, that's that. He's a bit overbearing at times, but he means well."

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile through her frustration. In this unexpected moment of crisis, she had found a glimmer of kindness and support. Sometimes, it took a helping hand to make a bad situation feel a little more manageable.

Just when (Y/N) thought her day couldn't get any stranger, Emmett returned with a comical surplus of juice boxes in his arms. He had not come back with just one or two; he had brought what looked like a small grocery store worth of them.

"Emmett! What are you doing?" Rosalie exclaimed, smacking him on the back of the head. She looked at the impressive stack of juice boxes with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

Emmett shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. "I didn't know how many she wanted, so I just grabbed them all."

(Y/N) stood there, stunned and grateful. She couldn't believe the lengths this stranger was going to in order to help her out. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Emmett chuckled. "No problem at all. It's better to have too many than not enough, right?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes but wore a fond smile. "You always do this, Emmett. How are you going to carry all of them?"

Emmett scratched his head, looking a bit perplexed. "I'll just carry them around until we see her again at lunch. She can take what she needs now."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I don't even know how to thank you both enough," she said, reaching out to take a handful of juice boxes, about six of them. It was a bit heavy, but she could manage.

Emmett grinned, his good-naturedness shining through. "You're welcome. Anytime you need help, just let us know."

Rosalie gave (Y/N) a playful shove. "Girls gotta help girls, right?"

With her backpack now considerably heavier with the added juice boxes, (Y/N) felt a newfound sense of belonging. These two strangers had shown her kindness and support when she needed it most, and she couldn't help but feel that Forks High School might not be such a daunting place after all. As they walked her back to class, she couldn't help but smile, grateful for this unexpected friendship.

Lunchtime arrived, and (Y/N) entered the bustling cafeteria with her stack of juice boxes, feeling a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. She looked around, wondering where to sit when she heard a familiar voice booming across the room.

"Hey, juice girl!" Emmett called out, waving enthusiastically from a table on the other side of the cafeteria. His infectious energy drew the attention of many students, and a few curious glances followed her as she made her way toward him.

A warm smile stretched across her face as she approached Emmett's table. He had saved her from a diabetic crisis earlier in the day, and now he was offering her a seat at his table, as if she were already part of their group.

"Thanks," she said, taking a seat next to Emmett, her stack of juice boxes settling beside her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging that she hadn't expected to find so quickly in this new school.

As she settled in and started unpacking her lunch, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel grateful for the kindness of her new friends. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her, and it made Forks High School feel a little less dauntin

Emmett introduced his siblings to (Y/N) with a playful grin. "This is Rosalie, my lovely and sometimes overly responsible partner, and this," he gestured dramatically to a young man who had been quiet until now, "is Edward, our resident brooding poet."

“Partner?”

“It’s complicated,” Rosalie says but she gave (Y/N) a warm smile, and Edward nodded in acknowledgment, his expression more reserved.

Emmett couldn't resist a teasing grin as he turned to (Y/N). "And, of course, you already know me, the one who saved the day earlier—your trusty juice retriever." He emphasized the last part, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“Then there’s Alice and jasper but I’m not sure where those two are at the moment.” He added.

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at Emmett's description. "Yes, my hero," she replied, her gratitude evident in her tone.

Edward, who had been observing the interaction quietly, couldn't resist a smirk. "Emmett and his heroic acts. Quite the storyteller, he is."

Emmett chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Well, I just wanted to make sure our new friend here didn't pass out from low blood sugar."

(Y/N) felt a sense of warmth and camaraderie settling in at the table. These strangers had quickly become friends, and she was grateful for their support. With a newfound sense of belonging, she joined in the conversation, feeling more at ease in this new school than she had thought possible.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #twilight masterlist #twilight x y/n #twilight x you #rosalie hale x reader #jasper hale x reader #emmett cullen x reader #twilight scenario

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mdshh · 3 days

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Rose as a teen 💃🏽

#btw she is very unpopular in school #how can a girl that looks like that be very unpopular #mystery #and you see her cousins have very colorful styles 😂#ts4 gameplay #ts4 screenshots #ts4 legacy #forks legacy #anya forks #sebastian tolman by aurorangen #ari forks #amalia forks #edwin calderwood #stephen forks #rose forks #gen 3

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jaehymrk · 2 months

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reporting live

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Trent who was rather interested in the reporter than the actual report he had to give.

Time was ticking on a thin thread for you as your supervisor might call you within five minutes if you do not interview, at least, one player of liverpool. You have been in the reporting field for at least seven months and you now also have juniors yet for you to move like an amateur was hurting your pride.

You are social issues reporter, going around different cities, and write an interesting jaw-dropping report then, call it a day. Sport reporting was not your forte, it is almost like . . fork found in your backpack. Simply out of place. The million dollar question ringing in your head was why were you here in Anfield Stadium at the first place but you face-palmed yourself on accepting to cover for your senior who was in her maternity leave. You had always hated whenever you had to cover for a reporter doing sports. No particular reasoning, just childhood trauma.

You saw all the liverpool footballer players walking out from the dressing room after a hot win. You crossed path with the tall, charismatic dutch leader of liverpool to the small growing liverpool superstar Endo but you had your goal set on the biggest prize, the player with a fresh trim, and his headphone on as every reporter tried catching his attention.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the star of Anfield and liverpool. Your supervisor might as well, move you to the Sports section if you got to interview Trent; you were not looking forward to that but a lady has bills to pay. You sighed as you had to save your job before it slipped away from your grip.

Just one interview, anyway. What is the harm? You held the sleeve of his tracker suit lightly, you needed this, you needed a bang.

"Great win in Anfield, innit? Please let us know about how are you feeling about the win?" You asked reaching your microphone out to the man. His gaze froze, so did his feet in front of you. It could be the audacity to block his way toward the team bus or the glitch of mischievousness in his eyes that flickered on your red hue cheeks.

Trent chuckled as he moved slightly forward removing his headphone, your eyes set on the man completely compelled from the bridge of his nose, deep doe eyes to his captivating smile. Everything about the man was setting you up for a failure, realizing how much of a bad idea this was.

"Yeah, yeah it is great team win but to become the last scorer for the win is a different achievement, so I am proud and happy." Trent answered, his eyes never leaving yours for a minute. His heavy scouser accent oozed out every word as Trent kept his smile intact.

His eyes glanced at you, noting the rose hue on your cheeks, one hand slightly shaking to hold onto the microphone and the other holding onto the notebook. "Come here, love. Let me hold that for you." He mumbled gripping on the microphone as your fingers brushed on his and you were secretly praying to every god that was staring upon you to not show your slight jump after the touch.

"Okay so-" You paused, clearly out of the atmosphere as you were in no place to check out players nor drool out your delusional ideas when you have a very angry supervisor waiting on the clock and an impatient cameraman behind you. "Yeah, I cannot lie, you . . you were great in the field." You complimented him quickly but you were not lying about it. With the long passes, and all the chances Trent created for the team; anyone can tell he was born to become a football player who succeeds with legacy.

"You were watching?" Trent asked raising his eyebrows in question. Utterly confused, you paused to flip your notebook to look at the man in front of you. With the silent eye contact, your neck burnt hot. You nodded sternly, a thin smile on your face. "Of course, I was watching, I mean, I am a reporter, can't be missing out on the main point of the whole show."

Trent kissed his teeth, he smirked, "So, tell me more. How was I on the field? Did you like what you see?" He winked at your direction. Your mind went blank, in what position does he have to be to flirt openly with a camera panning on his face? The burning hot sensation on your back came straight up and your heart beating fast was not helping to form words, "Like . . like I said, you were great. You are the star of liverpool after all." You sweetly smiled.

Trent had the cheeky smile on his face, his eyes lingering on your lips before glancing upward to your eyes. He knew what he was doing to you moving closer to the barrier between the reporters and the players.

You cleared your throat. "You are also the player of the match." You trailed off; Trent leaned closer. Call it the stadium being loud for him to not hear you clearly or he simply wanted to be close to you, to mesmerize the small moles on your face, to engulf himself on your warm scent.

"Are you excited for your next big game against Manchester City?" You inquired. All the back and forth staring and silence with Trent will not colour your supervisor impressed at all. You need to interview someone else that will not . . leave you speechless in minutes.

"Well it depends, to be very honest with you. Will you be in the next game?" Trent further pestered.

You furrowed your eyebrows in slight annoyance at the player for making everything about you while the whole fanbase would want to know more about him.

The cameraman behind you almost dropped his equipment taken back by the question. You did not know . . how to respond to the player who was attacking you with his doe eyes. Nervously, you laughed, "I cannot be certain about that. Are you and your team ready? It is one of the anticipated game of the season." You diverted his topic back to what you needed at the first place.

Trent stared at you without responding to your question, you quickly started shaking your leg anxiously as your eyes lingered at almost all the players leaving to go back to the training ground from the stadium. Your chances were blowing every second Trent silent in front of you.

During this period, you started considering finding other jobs, as you started making mental notes. With thoughts looming around your head, you did not come to realize Trent walked a few steps toward you, nibbling on his bottom teeth. He removed the microphone away from his lips, coming forward for a conversation that is sealed between you and the liverpool player.

You flinched at his hot breathe hitting your skin, as he gently held onto your forearm to keep you in position knowing you will move away from his contact.

You coughed away from his grip. "Have a great day then. We cannot wait till what magic liverpool can bring to Anfield once again."

"And you too, have a great day but i did not quite catch your name." He inquired with his wicked smirk playing on his face. He wants me gone, jobless. Clearly, with zero intention to support my penniless lifestyle.

You smiled, "If you do goal against Manchester City, I will let you know."

"Should we seal the deal with a kiss then, perhaps?"

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold scenarios #trent alexander arnold fic #trent alexander arnold x you #jaehymrkwrites #trent alexander arnold fluff

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missluthorwillseeyounow · 7 months

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What do you do when someone you love is a psychopath and a serial killer? How do you pick up your life and move on from it?

If you're Lionel Luthor, you don't. Your son betrays you and the legacy you built for him, and so your heart betrays you too. You sit at your desk with those damn pills your quack of a doctor prescribed and one too many drinks. You feel a warning twinge on your arm before excruciating pain, red and angry, blooms in your chest, and you never see the morning.

The only good thing about this is that you never see your son go to trial for killing 47 people over a span of 6 years. People whisper that you are one of Lex Luthor’s victims.

If you’re Lillian Luthor, you don’t either. You clean the damned mess these Luthor men left you. You take over the company that your husband had the gall to leave you, just as he left you with your only daughter. You clean up the tatters of your family’s reputation and legacy that your son left behind.

In the eyes of the world, you move on. You rise, finally able to flex the muscles so long held back by your husband and the rest of the world's expectations. And you bring Luthor Corp with you.

The millstone of the trials and scandal hang heavy on your neck, but all your life you have taught yourself to walk gracefully among lesser beings with your back straight and your head held high, just as you did as a young girl with textbooks on your head. This is no different.

But once a month, you make a pilgrimage to Stryker’s Island. To Lex. To the son you loved the best way you knew how, the only way you knew how - with a firm grip and the relentless, uncompromising push to achieve excellence, the intractable determination to make him grow into his fullest potential. That this potential was realized in murder, malice and manipulation was not your intent, but the world is far too quick and vindictive in their judgement because he is a Luthor. The mightiest always fall the farthest, and those beneath them wait hungrily for the chance to pull them down.

Your daughter leaves you too. The daughter who emerged, not from your body, but from your husband's infidelity. The same one who once looked up at you with eyes full of innocent trust that you vowed you would reciprocate in the best way you knew how. And so you did your best to prepare her, to mold her in your own image - into what a Luthor woman should be in this cruel, savage world that both worships and hates Luthors.

You’ve seen what the world does to Luthors who do or say the smallest wrong thing and you never want her to suffer those whispers and so you tell her yourself. Better she hears it from family than the mouths and forked tongues of strangers.

But she is too hard-headed and too soft-hearted to comply. She rejects your bequest, the ungrateful girl, and tries to escape the Lena Luthor you tried so hard to cultivate all these years.

As if you don't know. As if you could forget that it was her who brought this down upon all of you. Her, and that detestable Clark Kent.

And if you are Lena Luthor, you cannot move on. You cannot escape it. No matter how far you stray from your family. No matter how many reparations you make, no matter how hard you strive to separate yourself from the curse it brings -- it always finds you.

It finds you in the dark hours when you’re by yourself without the touch of another woman or the burn of alcohol to distract you - and suddenly you’re a scared little girl again, walking into an ominous house made of grim oak, unforgiving marble and dark shadows. And the only warmth you receive is not from a largely absent and formidable father nor from a condescending and controlling mother, but from a charismatic and mercurial brother who taught you how to play chess and promised you the world.

But it turns out his shadow was the darkest of all, and you didn't see until it was too late.

How could you not see it?

You were just a girl at that time, Agent J'onzz once tried to comfort you with that fact. Back when Lex was arrested.

Just a schoolgirl home for the holidays -- shoes polished as bright as the naivete in your eyes, uniform pressed to Lillian's exact standards, picture perfect but always with just one tiny detail you forgot that was enough to attract notice and invite criticism. This time it was the glasses sitting slightly crooked on your face.

You were more concerned with weathering the scorching disapproval just long enough until you got back to boarding school that you failed to notice Lex's distance. You failed to recognize the signs. You failed to decode his lies.

You failed.

By the time you got back to boarding school, he would have killed 2 more people.

By the time you caught on, he'd already killed 31. Those lives are all on you, because you were so absorbed by yourself, you didn't see what was happening under your nose. And those 3 agents Lex killed because he refused to come quietly? The judge and jury he poisoned at the trial? That's on you too.

Forty-seven lives taken. Forty seven more than there should have been if you hadn't been so blind.

If only you hadn't been comforted by the gentle hand holding yours under the table throughout Lillian's litanies of your shortcomings everytime you were home from school. If only you hadn't fallen for the "adventures" he had tricked you into that always ended with you in disgrace or punished, like that time you stole Lionel's prized pen from the King of Jordan, just for him.

If only you hadn't believed the fairy-tale dream of the two of you escaping to the snow-covered mountain peak, of finally being free of the Luthors’ oppressive presence.

And now he's serving 20 consecutive life sentences, and you've devoted your life to studying and stopping people like him.

Now you have 10 years of experience as a profiler and an undercover operative for both the Interpol and the FBI. Your work has taken you from Toran, to Kaznia, to Corto Maltese, to Metropolis, and now to National City.

You have seen the worst humanity has to offer, from terrorists to human traffickers to serial killers. But you keep looking into the abyss.

Because you looked into it once, you stared it in the face, and you didn't recognize it for what it was.

_________

Or, a Supercorp Criminal Minds AU

There's actually 3 major plots in this, and they all intersect in varying ways

The first is Lex as a serial killer

The second is about Sam and Reign

The third is the most vague one, which includes Lena’s birth mother and Leviathan

It starts (as the intro says) with Lex being a serial killer who killed 47 people. In one version of this story, Clark is a reporter who, like Lena, made the connection between Lex and the murders. One night after dinner with the Luthors, Clark sneaks into Lex’s study to find evidence he can use for his story.

He’s rummaging in a desk when he hears a voice from the doorway.

“You won’t find anything there.” Clark whips around to find Lena standing there, silhouetted against the light coming from the hall. He tenses, thinking she’s about to tell her brother what Clark was doing.

“If Lex really is behind these murders, and I know you think he is, you won’t find anything there. He’s not foolish enough to hide evidence here."

Clark doesn’t say anything, he just stares at her. Lena pauses, looking away. "I… I didn’t want to believe it. Not Lex… He wouldn’t…” Steel injects itself into her green gaze. “But the more time I spend with him, the more clearly I see the truth. You see it too, don’t you?"

Clark straightens up and nods gravely. “Yes.”

The FBI eventually becomes involved in the investigation, and the team includes a certain agent on the fast track to becoming the unit chief, J’onn J’onzz.

J’onn meets Lena only briefly, but he’s struck by the young girl’s keen intelligence and remarkable calm. (Eventually, he becomes the one who suggests that Lena consider a career in profiling and criminal psychology).

Fast forward a couple of decades later, Lena is working with the BAU. The other members of the team here are J'onn, Alex, James, Brainy and Winn. Lena is a transfer from Interpol, and she's had years of experience in profiling, suspect and victim identification, as well as infiltration, under her belt (I also hc that she worked briefly with the CIA and the MI6, mostly in intel, profiling and undercover work).

For the sake of her anonymity (and also because it was necessary for her undercover work), she's erased all connections to Lex and the Luthors (including old photographs and newspaper articles until the name Lena Luthor is but a footnote in the Luthor history with nothing to tie her to who she is now). She's also changed her last name. (I'm torn because I just don't know if I can use the name Walsh for Lena, it doesn't sound.. right? Idk So for now, she's Agent Kieran).

Lena is very professional, almost intimidating. She’s revered by the younger agents in the Bureau, well-respected by her colleagues and highly praised by her superiors. But she's very guarded and keeps everyone at arm's length, doesn't go out for after-work drinks with the others, practically sleeps with one eye open — years of working undercover and living with a serial killer will do that to you.

Until a certain promising young recruit comes along.

Kara is new in town — the adopted sister of Alex Danvers, the cousin of one of J'onn's old friends (I don't think teaming family members up is actually allowed in the FBI, so some suspension of disbelief is required here). Lena is assigned to oversee her training and transition into the team herself.

Kara's sunny demeanor couldn't clash more with Lena's icy, professional facade. Lena approaches the task with thinly-veiled impatience and something remarkably close to disdain.

However, Kara quickly proves to be more than a perky attitude and a pretty smile. She squirms at blood, which Lena is quick to exploit at first (What FBI profiler can't stand the sight of a corpse? "We profile serial killers here, not celebrities in high-waisted jeans.").

But Kara displays true empathy to the victims and their families, she's sensitive to other people's emotions and knows just what to say to get a reluctant victim or witness talking. She's extremely dedicated to catching the unsubs, and relentless in her investigation. Not to mention, she's extremely handy to have around in a crisis.

Lena finds this last part out when they're on a case, trying to find a missing girl.

The team is headed to the unsub's apartment, but on a hunch, Lena heads to an abandoned warehouse near the apartment, with only Kara as backup. They enter the warehouse, and just as they're clearing the rooms and checking for the missing girl, the unsub attacks Lena and manages to pin her to the ground, choking her. Kara gets there just in time to shoot the unsub in the leg, saving Lena's life.

Later that evening, Kara and the rest of the team go to the bar to celebrate. Lena is absent, as usual.

Just as Kara is getting another round of drinks at the bar, a low, smoky voice interrupts her. "Didn't profile you as a drinker, Danvers.”

Kara squeaks, nearly dropping the drinks, and turns to see Lena smirking behind her. “I wonder what other surprises you're hiding behind those glasses and cardigans."

"Agent Kieran! I didn’t expect to see you here— No, these aren't all for me, I— " Lena's face softens at Kara's babbling, and she takes a few of the shot glasses from Kara's hands.

"You know, I have a rule..." A wry smile lifts one corner of her lipsticked mouth. "Anyone who saves my life gets to call me Lena."

Kara blushes profusely at the other woman’s arched eyebrow. "Well then, if I'm calling you Lena..."

Lena smirks. "Kara it is, then."

For the first time — much to the gaping surprise of the rest of the team she's worked with for years — Lena joins them for a post-case drink.

To everyone's — and no one's — surprise, the pair quickly become the best of friends.

Two days into their friendship, Lena starts jokingly calling Kara Supergirl. Three weeks later, they start grabbing lunch together. Three months in, Kara sends Lena a video of herself petting a St. Bernard on the street only to be bowled over in a mass of furry paws and puppy licks — and the cadets Lena is training are even more bowled over to hear the "Ice Queen" laugh. Of course, they're later treated with a scorching glare and a sharp reprimand, but it's a revelation just to discover that she's actually physically capable of laughing.

By six months, the whole department is in a secret "will they or won't they" betting pool. A year in, and every other department has stakes in the pool (Alex publicly condemns the pool, but secretly bets a hundred bucks that "they will" by winter).

One time while they're eating lunch together, Kara tells Lena why she became a profiler when her career was in journalism.

"It just felt... too late. I'd be covering these stories about these terrible things, people who were already victims, and I thought... it's too late... Don't get me wrong, I loved being a reporter. Journalism was a way to bring truth out there, to give voices to these victims, but.... I wanted - needed - to do something more. I wanted to stop these things from happening. To keep these people from becoming victims."

But despite their growing closeness, Lena has yet to tell Kara about Lex, or about her life before the BAU.

She doesn't tell Kara about the woman she'd loved once, who hates her now because of the lies Lena told her. She doesn't tell her about Reign. She doesn’t tell Kara about the sweet young girl living far, far away, who plays soccer and loves to sing and read. The little girl Lena loves from afar, but knows only through secret updates from James, because it's for her own good.

Because that sweet little girl that Lena hasn't seen since she was a baby deserves to live a life that's whole and good — away from those who love her, but could hurt her. Whether she's thinking about Sam or herself, Lena doesn't know.

There are too many secrets, Lena decides, as she shoves them all one by one into their little boxes, clamping the lid securely shut. Kara is too good to be tainted by any of them.

Kara, who gets squeamish at the sight of blood, but resolutely hunts each killer like an avenging angel. Kara, who somehow, somehow still believes in the good in people.

And when she realizes that there is very little of that to be found in Lena Kieran or Lena Luthor, Kara will hate her as much as Lena hates herself.

But then the day comes when Lena receives a package in the mail.

She reaches in and pulls out two things: one, a chess piece — the white knight — and the other, a surveillance photo of Kara and Lena having lunch together.

On the back of the photograph are three cryptic little words that fill her with dread: “See you soon, sis.”

Panic overrides logic and years of training, and Lena stashes the package and its cursed contents into her safe. Heart racing, she calls the warden at Strykers. It takes several favors, but she manages to procure video footage confirming that her brother is still incarcerated. Despite the visual confirmation, she doesn’t sleep a wink that night, nor the night after.

Everything is quiet after that, so quiet that Lena is almost lulled, if not into a sense of complacency, then at least a state of less vigilance. Everyone needs a breather, a reprieve from paranoia at some point, and that is exactly what Lex is counting on.

A string of seemingly-unrelated murders heralds Lex's return, luring the BAU — and Lena — closer and closer. Lena knows she should leave, and leave soon. The closer the team gets to figuring out it's Lex, the more danger they're in — not just Kara, but the rest of the team that Lena has now come to care for.

But Kara, being Kara, holds onto Lena and keeps her from leaving.

Kara knows her too well now. She knows that something is wrong. She pushes without pushing, in that earnest yet respectful way, relentless in her concern for the people she cares about, yet still mindful and considerate in her efforts. It's one of the things Lena loves about her.

And then, after coming home from a case one night — Kara is shot by an intruder in her apartment.

The whole team is thrown into chaos trying to find Kara’s assailant. They all agree that the attack cannot be random, but there’s a frustrating lack of evidence anywhere.

But Lena knows.

The lack of clues is a glaring clue in and of itself. She knows this is Lex’s handiwork. Her brother’s way of getting back at her for “telling on him”, just like he used to when they were children. Except the stakes are infinitely higher this time, and he has gone too far.

And Lena — who should've known — didn't prevent it. She was too selfish, too greedy, wanting more time — more time with Kara, more time with her team, her family — and now this is the result.

Lena knows that Lex will go after everything and everyone she loves, because he wants to hurt her. Luthors are not raised on half-measures. Win the game, or burn the board. He will not stop, Lena knows this. Not until either of them is dead.

While half the team is waiting at Kara’s bedside, and the other half is delving into Kara’s case — two people are noticeably missing.

Alex can’t bear to see her sister looking so weak and vulnerable in that hospital bed.

Instead, she goes to Kara's apartment to clean her sister’s blood off the wall before Kara gets home from the hospital.

She's just getting a bucket full of soapy water when she hears movement at the door. Alert, Alex already has her gun out and trained at the door.

When the door opens, all Alex sees is a flash of black hair and wide green eyes before she gets a gun aimed at her too.

"Lena?? What the fuck?! What are you doing here??"

Alex puts her gun down slowly, her heart still hammering. Lena cautiously does the same, her hands held out to her sides.

Alex gestures at the door "How did you—?"

"Kara gave me the key three months ago." Lena's eyes haven't lost their wary edge, but she has the decency to look a bit abashed. "She said I could come over anytime."

"Yeah, but Kara's still in the hospital. What are you doing here?"

"I know that," Lena slants her a light glare as she looks around Kara's apartment. "I just — I wanted to make sure the place is secure, and... well... I didn't want Kara to come home to that."

She gestures at the blood-spattered wall, but looks away quickly. As if she, like Alex, can't bear to stand the sight of Kara's blood.

It's funny. They're both seasoned agents, they deal with horrific things on an almost daily basis. The sight of blood rarely fazes either of them anymore. Except this is Kara's blood.

It seems impossible that Lena could get any paler, but here she is, as white as a ghost and looking just as sick as Alex feels. And yet, she's still here. Out of everyone in Kara's circle of friends and family, only Alex and Lena are here, performing a task that somehow seems more terrible than anything either of them have encountered.

It's in this moment that it begins to dawn on Alex just how special Lena is. How special she may still become.

Alex bends down and drags the bucket of soapy water to the wall. She doesn't look at Lena, and instead focuses on the wall and swallows down bile at the sight of her sister's blood. Over her shoulder, she mutters "Grab a sponge."

"That's not gonna be enough. We, um—" Lena clears her throat and chokes out. "— need bleach."

Alex nods curtly. "Under the kitchen sink."

Lena gets the bleach, and the two of them silently begin scrubbing Kara's blood off her walls, and that's that. Once they're done, Alex gets a couple of beers that Kara keeps especially for Alex in her fridge and offers one to Lena.

Then Alex gives her a mild version of a shovel talk lol

And then, two days before Kara is released from the hospital, the news breaks. Lex Luthor, convicted serial killer, has escaped from prison.

All eyes are focused on the BAU screen, except J’onn’s. He turns to his left. Lena Kieran watches the television without batting an eye.

Lena waits only until after Kara has come back home, to make sure that she's safe, that Alex is staying with her for now.

Looking at the blonde tucked into blankets on the couch, soft and vulnerable, Lena can't bring herself to say goodbye, so instead, she just leans over to kiss Kara on the forehead and says good night.

Then without a word, without even packing a bag, Lena Luthor leaves National City to lure her brother out of the shadows.

Lena makes her exit just as the team is on the cusp of finding out that Lena Kieran is Lena Luthor.

She leaves her apartment intact, knowing that Kara and the rest of the team will eventually search it. She sticks the surveillance photo of her and Kara on the bedroom mirror and writes on the glass in red lipstick: "I'm sorry. I promise I'll make this right."

J'onn is the only one who knows the truth of who Lena really is, and in the end, he's the one who tells them.

With Lena gone, it's clear to J'onn that she's about to do something monumentally stupid, like sacrifice herself for the team. He gathers everyone, and tells them the truth.

The group is gathered around the conference table, staring at pictures of young Lena on the screen.

Tiny Lena, not even 5 years old, just after she was adopted by the Luthors, her wide green eyes sad and confused, her little hands clutching a worn, well-loved teddy bear.

Six year old Lena and a teenaged Lex Luthor standing together in front of Lena's new school. The little girl in her neat uniform, holding onto the older boy's hand, looking at her big brother with an adoring smile.

Fifteen year old Lena on summer vacation, and a now-adult Lex, the young girl perched on the hood of a restored vintage car with Lex's hand on her shoulder. Lena is thinner, more gaunt, and her smile less bright, but Lex is different. He's grinning at the camera, looking every inch the charismatic billionaire playboy. You would never know from Lex Luthor's easy smile that he had already been killing for 5 years at this point.

Finally, the last Luthor family portrait, taken the year Lex was arrested. They're a beautiful family, there's no denying that. Each person in the photograph is regal and proud — but in each set face, there's a private war being waged. Lena looks far older than her sixteen years. Her face shows no emotion in each cut line, but her eyes betray all: a somber intensity that's impossible to look away from. Lex is the exact opposite. His smile is charming and draws the viewer's gaze, but his eyes are cold and dead. Within 8 months, Lex would be in prison, Lionel would be dead, Lillian would be running the company, and Lena would no longer be a Luthor.

Kara feels... she doesn't know how she feels.

There's anger, shock, confusion and... hurt. A lot of hurt, a heavy ball of it resting on the base of her spine, mixed with the ache of a longing she doesn't understand, something broken that only confuses her more. So she decides to settle on the anger.

Yes, anger is good. It gives her a sense of purpose and clarity, and it doesn't threaten to make her curl up into a tiny ball. She's angry that her best friend — one of the most important people in her life, second only to Alex — has been hiding all of this from her for years. She's angry that Lena, who has taught her so many things — not just about being a profiler, but about life and love and friendship — didn't trust her enough to tell her about any of this.

Anger is good, because it keeps the tears stinging the back of her eyes from falling, because... because Kara's always thought she knows Lena better than anyone. Had believed that out of everyone, Lena had trusted her, Kara Danvers, enough to get to know her. But now, it seems she doesn't really know Lena at all.

The screen flickers.

Everyone blinks up at the screen in confusion as it begins to glitch. Suddenly, the photos of Lena disappear from the monitors. It’s replaced by what looks like a grainy video feed. Kara turns to J’onn, who shakes his head, frowning. This was not his doing.

“What the hell?” Alex frowns up at the monitor and nudges Winn, who immediately squints into his computer screen. “Who’s doing that?”

“I have no idea...” Winn mutters. “Gimme a second...”

It looks like feed from a surveillance video, except it’s showing what looks like a cabin. Even from the pixelated image, it looks well-decorated, expensive, like something from a country home magazine. Outside the far window, Kara can see a view of snow-capped mountains. Outlined in the middle is a dark shadow of a man.

“They live soft, luxurious lives, don’t they? Your so-called friends. Oblivious, unencumbered by knowledge, and so pathetically... mortal. Fragile.” A smooth baritone voice cuts through the static, and Kara’s blood chills. That voice is familiar. “You and I, we have been trained in the hard school of danger and war. Haven’t we, sister mine?”

Another figure steps out of the shadows and into view, and Kara gasps. Even in the grainy image, Lena’s smile is sharp and icy. “Comparing yourself to Alexander the Great now, are you? But then again, you always were trying too hard, Lex.”

I don't know exactly how happens, I haven't figured it out yet, but Lena confronts Lex with the intention of killing him, except she's the one who's "killed".

And Lex, being the sadistic ass that he is, had the whole thing captured on a hidden camera and it's being broadcast on every BAU monitor, for Lena's family to see.

The whole team watches Lena "die".

But Lena had a failsafe. She told someone of her location, maybe Andrea or Jack or Jess idk, and had them standby to help her in case something happened.

The whole time Lex streams their confrontation, Kara is frantic. The table suffers under her fury, splintering with the force of her desperate grip.

Every time they get nowhere trying to track Lena and Lex, Kara punches the walls, and Alex has to hold her sister back, afraid of how Kara is losing control.

When the feed broadcasts Lena's death, it seems almost unremarkable. One second, Lena is standing, the next she's on the floor, lifeless and unmoving.

A deadly silence grips the BAU conference room. No one is moving, not even breathing. It's as if when Lena dropped dead on the feed, so did they. They wait. And wait.. and wait.

Lena doesn't move.

On the screen, Lex checks his sister's vitals and satisfied, steps over his sister's body and out of sight. The camera blacks out.

They all stare dumbly at the screen for a long moment, afraid to move, as if moving from their frozen spots would make it true.

It's Alex who stirs first. She jumps into action, frantic, ordering Winn to get the feed back, but it's impossible. The room erupts in a blaze of action, but Kara... Kara's the only one left staring at the screen, frozen in shock and disbelief, as if she can't believe it's real.

It’s not. It’s not.

In the interim between Lena's death and the reveal that she’s alive, Kara spends every waking moment hunting down Lex or secretly looking into Leviathan (which she also uncovers when she digs deeper into Lena’s life before the Luthors and learns more about Lena’s mother).

Kara goes down so deep into the rabbit hole, that Alex is genuinely afraid for her sister. She almost prays that they don't find Lex Luthor. Not because she doesn't want that man brought to justice, but because she's afraid of what Kara can and will do once she sees him.

Kara hasn't mentioned Lena's name in months. But then again, most of their team hasn't.

In the months since Lena’s death, two new members have been brought int the BAU team, William Dey and Nia Nal.

William and Nia know very little about Lena from the team itself, because her name is hardly mentioned. Nia only knows Lena through her reputation, and through what Alex and the other agents outside of their team have told her.

Alex is the only one in the team who says Lena's name because she hates that everyone tiptoes around it.

Lena was their friend. Her friend, and it's not right that everyone flinches at her name, that they can't look at the plaque of her on the memorial wall. She knows how hard it is to look at Lena's picture there, just as hard as it was to look at Kara's blood on the walls.

But Alex is not gonna be the one to look away. Lena didn't look away when they cleaned Kara's blood off the walls, and Alex will not look away from her either. She's gonna hunt Lex Luthor down like the animal that he is and make him pay for taking Lena from their family.

But Alex is getting worried about Kara.

Her sister doesn’t sleep anymore. Barely eats. Kara doesn't stop — she pores over old files of Lex's murders, goes over the old profile, possible places he might be. Alex is worried about her fixation with Lex. It's not healthy. Kara's grief — or her refusal to grieve — is gonna drive her to the ground.

So she confronts Kara about it.

They're in the BAU conference room when Alex finally speaks up, but Kara meets her gaze head on. With one hand, she points to the empty seat Lena used to favor, right across Kara's. "Lena's chair, Alex. What do you see when you look at it?... Nothing, right? We've left it empty all this time. No one can bear to sit it in. Tell me, what do you see, right now?"

Alex glances over at the chair, then back at her sister "Kara..."

"Tell me what you see, Alex."

Alex sighs. "Nothing."

"Exactly. Nothing." Kara nods, her eyes hard. "Do you wanna know what I see? I see her, Alex. I see Lena sitting across from me, just as clearly as I can see you now.”

Alex swallows at the intensity burning in her sister’s eyes.

“I see her everywhere, Alex. All the time. I see her smile, her eyes, and I—" Kara's voice cuts off with a sob. The agony in her eyes is almost too much for Alex to take. It takes a long moment before Kara can speak again.

"I can't stop, Alex. Whenever I stop and I look at her, I — I know she's - she's gone, but she looks so alive, and I— I know the only way I can get any kind of peace about it is knowing that Lex Luthor has been wiped off the face of the earth."

A frisson of fear shivers down Alex's spine. "Killing Lex won't bring Lena back, Kara."

"I know that, Alex." Kara's eyes are dark as flint. "Believe me. I know."

Sometime after Lena’s “death”, the BAU receives an unannounced visitor.

Lillian Luthor strides into the BAU bullpen, tall and imperial in her furs, her icy glare making everyone it lands on feel small and insignificant.

She strides past the bullpen, past Kara, and comes face to face with J’onn. Her cold blue eyes render everyone in the room silent. She scoffs her hatred into his face.

"Taking my son away from me wasn't enough for you people, was it? You had to take my daughter away from me too. I warned her. I warned her this would be her undoing, and I was right. And now she's dead."

They end up having to work with Lillian to find Lex, because as Lillian says "It takes a Luthor to find a Luthor." [And there's gonna be an interrogation lol. I just have this vague idea of Lillian talking about Lex and Lena.]

"The truth is, I lost Lena long before now.” Kara suspects that this is the closest anyone has come to hearing regret in Lillian Luthor’s voice.

“I was.... harsh on her, in a way I never was with Lex. Lex always had a sharp edge to him, but Lena — Lena was too soft, too vulnerable. A Luthor cannot be soft. Not when the world is watching, waiting for you to make the smallest mistake."

It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. Kara slams her hands on the table, unable to believe the nerve of this woman. J'onn grips her arm in warning, but Kara ignores him, snarling at Lillian, her anger plain on her face. "You abused her! You made her feel unworthy of love, unable to trust anyone—"

Lillian lifts her chin. "I made sure my daughter could face a world that's hungry for Luthor blood. I made her a Luthor."

"She was just a little girl when she came to you!" Kara shouts, her fury growing by the second. "A little girl whose mother just died, who was looking for love, and instead she found you. She trusted you—"

Lillian's voice rises, a flash of heat scorching the cool, detached dignified tones. "I made her strong!"

"She didn't need to be strong!" Kara yells, surging up to her feet, her face inches away from Lillian. J'onn grabs her shoulder, restraining, but Kara presses forward. "She needed someone to love her! And you answered that with nothing but condescension and neglect! The only one in your family who made her feel loved was a psychopath who betrayed her!"

Lillian is struck silent, her eyes wide and her face strained as she stares at Kara. Kara meets the older woman's eyes, staring her down without the fear that a younger Lena must have shown Lillian all those years ago.

Kara wishes she could've been there to hold that young Lena in her arms, wishes she could've taken her away from the family that broke her.

"The Luthor name didn't deserve Lena. You never deserved her."

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #me trying to write #I guess it could also fit with any crime drama not just CM #tbh I haven’t watched the show in I don’t even know how long. I was just watching a crime drama show and I had these in my drafts so #enjoy I guess? or not there’s a truck full of angst in this thing #p.s. this is like my FAVORITE characterization of Lillian. i tried my best 👉👈 please be kind #this is version 2.0 of my Criminal Minds AU cos i had to rework that one. and honestly i think this one is better #more fully realized i guess? idk it's 2am #sorry for the long post 😅

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 6 months

Text

👑The girl in the silver dress👑New version

Aemond x reader

Tags: Fluffish, royalty, modernroyalty, theselection

Cool devider credits: firefly graphics

🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead.

🔷Author's note: Based on the books by Kiera Cass, but reading them is not required.

🔷Wordcount :5393

🔷Warnings: It is not a very dark or triggering fic. If you found something that upsets you, however let me know ill change the warnings

The life you had before the palace was as a child’s coloring book before growing up. You didn't bother about crossing over the lines, no one told you to stop adding hats to the animals you coloured in, or to stop using so much pink and glitters. There was no line you could cross, no scissors wrapped in papers who could cut you open without you realizing.

All of that changed for better or worse when you were selected for the Selection of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon or as he would soon be known under his ruling name, King Jacaerys Velyaron.

You never thought you would be selected. There are strict laws that only noble ladies from the minor houses can join the month-to-a-year-long competition where the Seven Kingdoms are introduced to his future bride.

It is more than a beauty pageant. The skills of each bride are tested. The selection does not require mere Valyrian blood or beauty alone anymore. It has become a deadly game full of manipulation, lies, tricks, schemes and plots. Things you know nothing of.

Your house is not as grand as Baratheon, or as rich as Lannister, your house…It has always been decent. Your parents sheltered you from court life and tried giving you a normal life, as normal as one could have with your titles. And now, it all would change

You sit in the dining room of the royal castle, known as the Red Keep. The castle has survived multiple wars, sieges, treasons and deaths long before any of its current inhabitants graced this world, and many more would follow before you all are bones.

In front of you is a silver plate with a spoon, a fork, a knife and a glass. You never knew you cutted your food wrong or that you lean that much with your elbows on a table until your princess training began.

It is all so terribly confusing. There are 35 girls here, and they want the same as you do. They want to be the one for Prince Jacaerys. They want to sit next to him at official functions and parties, they want one day to be his love, to continue his legacy and perhaps more than Jace, they want this glamorous life.

You tell yourself that this uneasy feeling, that you don’t quite belong here, will fade. It has to. These girls are all from higher noble houses and used to courtly manners and training. Of course you will be a bit out of place at first.

A gorgeous black-haired girl with a clear stag necklace with diamonds speaks up, rising from her chair as if she is already proclaimed queen. She turns to the woman who is tasked with guiding and teaching you all how to behave accordingly as the consort of the king. That lady is called Lady Aemma Arryn, yet you may refer to her as Lady Aemma or Lady Arryn.

The girl’s voice has a slight accent from the Stormlands. ‘’When will we meet the royal family?’’ You believe her name is Floris, but you are not sure. You become slightly worried by her question, as you are in no state of preparation to meet anyone or anything royal at all.

Your teacher sighs, annoyed by this question. ‘’Patience, girls. I won’t introduce you to any royal. Some of you can curtsy but others would fall flat on their faces.’’ She doesn't even glance in your direction. So why do you feel as if she speaks directly about you?

Floris nods to that with a sweet smile, her eyes blinking rapidly. ‘’That would be embarrassing.’’ She says, eying the girls around the table, including you. You pretend to be too busy with your glass to notice.

Lady Aemma smiles. ‘’Yes it would.’’ She says, with a thinly veiled laugh. ‘’For you it would be.’’ She adds with a charming smile.

A few girls giggle delighted by this spectacle and amazing comeback. Floris becomes furious and you fear that for now, Lady Aemma has made an enemy. ‘’Ladies, focus. Remember: You are always one step away from a scandal.’’ The grand doors of the dining room open.

35 heads turn at the same time, taking in the mysterious visitors. It is two young adult males, both dressed in black, with each a motorcycle helmet under their arms. One is slightly taller yet the smaller one stands out the most thanks to his cheekish, boyish and almost taunting grin.

Nervous chatter erupts among most girls, as they already seem to know who these two men are. You wonder if one of these two men is Jacaerys. The smaller one speaks, and despite the distance between you and him he speaks as if he is sitting right next to you, almost purring in your ear and sending shivers down your spine. ‘’I didn’t know the royal harem had been invited already.’’

You are offended by his comment and frown. The selection is not a harem. One girl will be chosen. One. This is nothing like a harem. The taller man remains silent, his expression unreadable as a book in a foreign language you only heard in a dream.

Lady Aemma smiles and for a moment you believe her. You believe she is happy to see both. Until the corners of her mouth slightly begin to hang in displeasure or perhaps pure disgust when she greets the man.

‘’Prince Aegon.’’ You slowly lift your elbows again from the table, quickly sitting straight. ‘’Forgive me, you nor your brother were expected back so quickly.’’ Aegon, or rather prince Aegon approaches the long table with 35 young women that stare at him as if he is a statue that has come to life.

Aegon takes no offense. ‘’It is no matter, Lady Aemma.’’ He makes sure to put a little extra effort on the lady word. ‘’You are getting old, after all.’’ Lady Aemma turns her head so he can’t see her scowl, very subtly before looking at the selected girls again.

She speaks to you all. ‘’Girls, this is Prince Aegon, and Prince Aemond. Please stand up for them, and make a curtsy as is custom.’’ You all stand up before following her orders, making a curtsy or a bow.

Aegon seems to enjoy the attention when his brother remains in the background, unaware of your gaze slowly shifting from Aegon's eyes to his own. When he finally notices your gaze, he scowls. Your smile dies and you turn your gaze to the glass in front of you. Aemond and Aegon leave soon after that, having caused quite the uproar among the selected.

The girl a few chairs away from you speaks, her blue and gorgeous dress reveals she is from either the Arryn, or perhaps a Velyaron. ‘’Is Jace just as pretty as them?’’ She wonders, her voice a little sigh of a girl slowly falling in love.

Lady Aemma scowls at her, before insulting the girl. ‘’Prince Jacaerys to you, and have some self-respect and decorum.’’ A few girls giggle, but you don’t join this time as you take in the sad smile of the girl, clearly embarrassed.

Two months in the selection and you feel less like a failure every passing day. One day, when you are busy practicing the dance of the dragons, Lady Aemma returns from her walk. Several girls who have been practicing break up their dances, but you and your partner keep engaged in the dance. The girl was shy at first, keeping her movements stiff and ungracious, but after your encouraging smile and jokes about how you look like a parrot when you dance, she has loosened up and dances as if she is the most free and spirited girl out there. Her name is Maris. You and Maris smoothly glide over the dance floor, leaving jealous eyes behind. Not jealousy aimed at you, but at Maris or the bond you two have. Lady Aemma quietly walks over, her hands folded in front of her blue dress when she takes in the movements you and Maris make, faithful to the waltz.

She smiles, nodding in slight approval. You are shocked and you can tell that Maris is too. ‘’Good, especially you, Lady Baratheon. You are a natural.’’ To you, she does not utter a word but gives you a warning glare before turning her head to the other girls. You and Maris finally break up your dance so you can listen to what Lady Aemma has to say.

She sighs, deeply and very unbecoming of a lady, before speaking. ‘’Ladies, it is with great displeasure and my greatest fear that I must admit to myself, and you all, as adults, that you are finally ready to meet what could become your future family in law, as well his royal highness, prince Jacaerys Velyaron.’’ You hear Maris gasp, as well as other girls who giggle and mutter excitedly. Lady Aemma glares at one girl who lets out an excited cheer. ‘’Do not make me regret this.’’ She warns the girl in particular.

That evening, you are prepared to meet the royal family. You are put in a silver coloured dress with transparent sleeves, befitting your house colors. The other girls are dressed as well, each in another dress with a different model. When the selection started you all were giving a tailor, a handmaiden, a team of make-up artists and dressmakers.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous to meet the royal family. They have a reputation for being intense people. They dislike outsiders joining their royal private circle, and for centuries banned people for even joining theirs. Now the rules have changed, and you are prepared for your meeting, hearing other girls talk with their teams.

Lady Floris Baratheon wears a dark black with gold gown, sleeveless with a huge diamond choker. Again, it would be a lie if you wouldn’t admit she wears it very well. She orders her maids to tighten her corset even more, before her small feet glide into her dark black heels.

You hear sniffs beside you, and turn your head to a gorgeous blonde crying girl in a red gown. Her make-up artist sighs. ‘’I can’t work like this. The girl keeps crying and it ruins the eyeliner I put on her.’’ Is he heartless? You feel conflicted as you take in her big puffy red eyes. She is upset.

The dressmaker does her best to comfort the girl, but fails miserably because of her annoyed glare and her tight pressed lips. ‘’You are ruining everything we worked so hard for with your tears.’’ She warns the girl.

That only makes the girl feel even more terrible. ‘’I don’t know. What if he hates this? What if he hates me?’’ Your chest tightens as you become worried about that too.

A woman with her gorgeous silver locks high up on a knot in the Valyrian style, approaches the girl, gently taking her hands into her own. ‘’He doesn’t know you, he can’t hate you yet.’’ She tells the girl, who slowly calms down because of this act of sincere genuine kindness. That is all she needed.

The girl continues giving her advice as you listen in on them, feeling terrible that you do so. ‘’Jacaerys is very kind, and takes his role and the selection very seriously. He will have a small talk with all of us. Just be yourself, Jace likes that the most.’’ She finally notices you listening in. Instead of glaring or snapping at you, she smiles. ‘’You look beautiful. Silver is your color.’’

You are speechless. The girl she helped, is not. ‘’Thank you, Lady Baela. You’re always very kind to me.’’ She sniffs. ‘’If my face wasn’t full of snot and ruined make-up, I’d hug you.’’

Lady Baela smiles, yet beams at the compliment before taking the girl’s hand. After Baela has cleaned her face for her, and put on a fresh layer of much less expressive make-up, she takes the girl by her hand. ‘’I’m simply speaking my truth, lady Dyana. Come, we’ll go in together. I met the royal family before. They are actually very nice.’’

Floris snaps her head to Baela, taking in her dark blue puffy gown as she scoffs, clearly hating the seahorses that are embroidered on it. ‘’Where the hell would a girl like you met the royals before?’’ She asks, her voice clearly jealous.

Baela smiles, sweetly. ‘’Be careful, Lady Floris. Green clashes with black.’’ She walks with Dyana to the people by the doors, to let them know they are ready. You smile, faintly until you notice Floris approaching you.

She takes in your plain silver dress. ‘’You’re the nameless girl.’’ That is one way to greet you.

You shrug. ‘’What if I am?’’

Floris sighs, deeply as if you are just stupid before giving you some friendly advice meant as a threat. ‘’Just don’t bother, dear. A prince like Jace wants a girl with a house, banners, and good men to fight his wars.’’

You might suck at dancing, at court manners, public speaking, but the history and the books? That is something you excel at. You turn your head. ‘’Lady Floris. Perhaps if you spent as much time with your nose in a book as you did making others feel miserable, you would know that the last time the Seven Kingdoms had a war was hundreds of years ago. I suggest you spent more time reading, no man likes a girl that can’t keep up with him.’’ A few girls overhear and giggle among themselves, as Floris becomes a dark shade of red. You let her be, before telling the crew you are ready as well.

You are let in at the same time as Dyana. You take a moment to take in the grand chandelier, dangling from the ceiling, the polished marble tiles and the buffet tables with delicious sweets and glasses of champagne. The curtains that cover the tall windows are in a red color with dark black details, and you hear a faint orchestra play an upbeat tune as the selected are paraded to the royal family.

You feel like you don’t belong here at all, suddenly. You and Dyana both approach the royal family. You will curtsy to every member, and when he has the time, Prince Jacaerys will formally meet his selected, making a conversation of about 3 minutes with every girl. You feel nervous, so you wonder how Lady Dyana is feeling. She must feel even worse. She is close to crying again. You wait for her to catch your glance. She finally looks at you, a little nervous and worried.

You wink at her, causing her to giggle loudly. The royals snap their heads in her direction, but Jace’s lips curl into an approving smile, before grinning back. Dyana makes a deep, beautiful curtsy for Jacaerys. He speaks to her, smiling as well, before likely asking what she was laughing about. Dyana nods to your direction and Jace follows her gaze to you. Jace nods as if he thanks you, before taking off with Dyana.

Your hand is grabbed and you are tugged out of the line by Lady Aemma. You smell her intense parfum as you are dragged to the side. ‘’I had hoped you learned by now.’’ She sighs, almost disappointed in you. She turns her body so she can look at you.

You blink, confused. ‘’Had learned what, Lady Aemma?’’ You ask, your voice soft. ‘’Dyana seemed nervous-’’

She grabs your shoulders, breaking protocol. ‘’These girls are not your friends, Y/N. They would throw you from the towers so they can hold Jace’s hand when he takes in your corpse. Every girl is here for herself. You should be too.’’ She warns you, but you are not angry. Just upset. Deep down, you know very well she is right. ‘’You are a sweet, genuine girl with a kind, gentle heart. It won’t lead you anywhere with this family. Take it from me. Kind girls, finish last.’’ She looks at King Viserys when speaking. ‘’If they reach the finish at all, that is.’’ You heard Floris once tell a story that Lady Aemma was a Queen once, but that Viserys degraded her because she could not deliver him a healthy child. Others say that Alicent used her dark magic on the king, breaking their relationship. So you don’t really know if there is truth to those rumors, and if so, how much truth.

‘’Come, Jacaerys is occupied, but the other members of the family must be greeted.’’ She takes you with her, walking you to the other members of the very well dressed royal family. ‘’May I present, Lady Y/N?’’ Princess Regent Rhaenyra is the first to address you.

Her dress takes your breath away, it is a dark black gown with red and golden details, but on her back are dragon wings. You drop in a low respectful curtsy before lowering your gaze. The princess smiles, approvingly before telling you to rise with a nod. ‘’My. Your dress is by far the simplest, but still the most beautiful out here. You must share your tailor with me.’’ She rambles excitedly. ‘’I love the little sparkles.’’ She seems like a sweet kind woman. You don’t understand why the media calls her cruel. ‘’And I saw what you did for your fellow selected. You have taken my interest, I don’t doubt you’ll hold Jacaerys soon as well.’’

You are brought before the king next, King Viserys. Aemma does not speak a single word, but you drop into another curtsy. The king speaks, and you worry for madness coming out. But it is far from madness. It is plain, true, as clear as a piece of well forged glass. ‘’It is a wonderful day, seeing a common girl grace the halls with the posture and decorum of a true born royal. Your kindness with the girl did not go unnoticed.’’ He speaks very kindly and you almost feel as if you are back at home again. He nods to Dyana who is now dancing with Jacaerys, in the waltz you practiced, not a care in the world. ‘’A ruler must have a kind heart, that beats for her people.’’

You are shocked and honored by his compliments. ‘’Y-your majesty, King Viserys. Your words honor me.’’ You speak, your voice touched by his kindness.

A sharp but elegant voice cuts in, interrupting you, protocol and the reality is brought back in. ‘’May I cut in?’’ A beautiful red haired woman in a dark green gown with sharp spikes smiles at you, and you know she is Queen Alicent.

Viserys nods, smiling as you gulp silently. ‘’Of course, dear. This is her majesty, Queen Alicent Hightower.’’ You make another deep curtsy, and you can’t understand why she is called a witch or worse in the media sometimes.

Alicent smiles at Aemma. Aemma smiles back, unchallenged. You can read rivalry and hatred in both their eyes. Until Alicent speaks. ‘’Surely your flock needs help? I’ll take over for you. She only needs to meet my sons and the little princes.’’ The flock, being selected girls. You feel insulted and a little frightened when Alicent takes you with her, not giving Aemma a chance to save you. She walks you to the two young adult men, no longer in leather and jeans, but in suit and tie. They look extraordinarily handsome, for sure. But you are not here for them.

Prince Aegon sighs, muttering to his brother how bored he is. Prince Aemond does not even respond, having his hands folded on the back of his suit jacket, and his good eye is aimed at you, and you alone as a bee in trance of a blooming flower. Aegon even waves his hand in front of Aemond’s good working eye, before Aemond snaps at him, likely telling him to behave. You find it wondrous how he is the youngest, yet act as the eldest.

Alicent presents you to her sons. ‘’Aemond, Aegon…’’ She glares at the latter, warning him with that. ‘’This is Lady Y/n.’’ You dip in another curtsy, smiling at both royals who do nothing to even acknowledge your existence.

The silence is painfully awkward as Alicent leaves. You speak, your voice soft and sincere. ‘’I am honored.’’

The eldest prince scoffs, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants. ‘’I imagine you would be.’’ You try to find your tongue, to say something sharp and witty but all that comes out is a very soft:

‘’Pardon?’’

Aegon laughs, gesturing around him. ‘’We are royalty, you are like a peasant. We are the lions, you are our gazelle.’’ You feel nauseous at that description, as if he can rip you to shreds.

You turn your head to the other prince who remains silent. The prince follows your gaze. ‘’Don’t talk to my brother, he is not very talkative. Unless you like to talk about ancient Dornish statues, or banter on endless debates about historic battles.’’ You would much rather be getting a drink, then to be in the crossfire between those two.

Aemond hisses, clearly a bit embarrassed in his rough voice. ‘’Aegon.’’

You see an opening. And so you take it. ‘’I quite like Dornish statues. My father is the patron of art conversionship in Sunspear.’’ Aegon bristles, scoffing when sipping his drink when Aemond looks at you as if he only sees you now for the first time. He sees the real you, for the first time. ‘’You do? You don’t…’’ He clears his throat. ‘’Find it boring?’’

Your father has been patron of persevering Dornish and other foreign cultural works, protecting it from greedy graverobbers and folks who think other people’s cultures belong in their own house. He makes sure the local museums display it, earn money from it and profit from it but most of all: That Dornish aritfacts remain in Dorne. Your dad does admirable work, some would call it boring, perhaps. But how else can you learn from history, if you don’t cherish and protect it?

Your words come blurting out, before you can stop them, quoting your father. ‘’Only a soul with little imagination would find history boring.’’ Aegon stops sipping his drink, looking at you with newfound interest. But Aemond has become absolutely silent, a smile on his pink soft lips.

You forgot yourself for a brief moment. These men are above you. ‘’I-..’’

The younger prince talks, his rough but soft voice leaving his mouth. ‘’I concur.’’ He nods, even. ‘’What is your favorite piece?’’ He brings his champagne glass to his lips before taking a sip.

You watch, before answering the question. ‘’It’s a cliche, but Nymeria’s statues, the ones that have been constructed by her family.’’ You tell him, with a dismissive little laugh.

The prince does not agree with you. ‘’Is it a cliche, or is it a classic?’’ You are dumbstruck at that comment, feeling all your wit leave your body. He smiles, reassuring that he does not find your interests stupid. And that is something no one else did before. He in fact, takes the bait and asks you things. ‘’The one’s at Sunspear or the one’s at Dornegarden? Of course, a lot of smaller statues have been build all over Dorne to honor her.’’ You are impressed by his knowledge.

You nod. Dornegarden is on your bucket list. ‘’Dornegarden’s are my favorite. The statues are so immensely huge, as if she is a goddess looking down at you.’’ You describe it the way your father described it to you.

Beyond his shyness you can see a small smile appearing, gentle as a first snowflake in november. ‘’Ah, I can see why you like her. She was clever, fierce and beautiful too.’’ You blush, unintended.

You know it is polite to ask, but part of you is dying to know. ‘’And yours?’’ Aemond opens his mouth but sadly, the pig that is his brother interrupts, ruining this precious moment and shutting Aemond up.

Aegon grins. ‘’He has a fascination for everything depressing, doomed and disastrous.’’ You try to think of a specific name that comes to mind. Isn’t all history depressing, dooming and disastrous, in certain ways?

‘’Oryn.’’ Aemond mumbles, quietly.

You hear it perfectly. If he were in a crowd of thousand screaming men, you would hear it just as clear. ‘’Oryn?’’ You find that an interesting intriguing choice.

Aemond nods, his silver hair going up and down.‘’Yeah.’’

‘’I like his statues.’’ You tell him. His temple was destroyed by his usurper, the king’s brother, when Oryn was cut in pieces. The foul king took Oryn’s wife as well.

The prince takes a bigger sip of his champagne, his body language suddenly tense and clearly distressed. ‘’You don’t have to lie to me. I know no one really gives a fuck about him.’’ He mutters as if he hates himself for caring as much as he does.

You step closer to the prince before speaking your truth. ‘’I’m not lying, his story is a tragedy but it doesn’t mean that the story isn’t worth telling. It has betrayal, brotherly love, devotion and romance. How can you not love it?’’ You bring out your smartphone from your handbag, showing Aemond a few photo’s your father sent on his recent travels. ‘’They found his grave recently. My dad was there when they cut the rock open.’’ Aemond’s mood changes back from sullen to excited, to impressed, yet still reserved.

‘’No way.’’ He murmurs, looking at the little screen as if it’s a diamond. ‘’Your father leads the expedition?’’ He sounds impressed, and you blush.

You know the Dornish would never. Too long, Westerosi grave robbers from the Crownlands have taken Dornish artifacts. ‘’No, the Dornish lead it themselves. Father simply is invited, because he protects the art faithfully. The Dornish have closed him in their hearts.’’

Aemond understands that, still his eyes are glued to your phone, taking in every detail on the dark photo. ‘’Oh, yes, of course.’’

He mutters to himself.‘’Where did they even find this?’’

You tell what your father told you. ‘’A farmer found it. Apparently his son was playing and saw a crack in a rock. They rolled the rock away, revealing a cave. Inside the cave, there was his tomb.’’ The rest of the world seems to fade when you and Aemond talk, the worries and fears of not fitting in miles away.

He grins, smiling, letting out a little chuckle. ‘’I love that. I doubt his brother knew of it. His supporters must have made it, after Oryn was slain.’’ His brother would be Prince Razar, the brother of Prince Oryn, and Princess Farya.

He is an Oryn supporter, so perhaps he likes to hear this as well. ‘’Dad says they found traces of Queen Farya. Flowers were left. They withered, but they are testing the remains. They think they already know it are Dornish daisies.’’ You tell him.

The simple grin he lets out does something to your heart. ‘’Her favorite, according to many poems out of that time.’’

You nod. ‘’Yes, exactly.’’

Aemond becomes a little more serious, still rambling on, happy to finally have found someone, anyone that listens. ‘’Do you think that she was even allowed to visit her brother’s grave? Or out of the palace?’’

You think deeply before speaking. You avoid his gaze. ‘’Perhaps in secret? When people are meant to be together…’’

He answers without missing a moment. ‘’They will find a way.’’ You smile at one another, both lost in each other’s eyes.

He breaks eye-contact, nodding to the phone. ‘’This is certainly amazing. Thank you for showing me this.’’

You take back your phone, putting it in the handbag. ‘’Have you ever been in Dorne, my Prince?’’ You wonder. Aemond seems to slightly blush.

He nods. ‘’Yes, many times. I go as often as my duties allow me.’’ You inwardly sigh, delighted. That must be so wonderful.

The prince then turns to look at you. ‘’And you?’’

You shrug, a little playing with your handbag.‘’It’s a heartwish of mine.’’ You confess.

Aegon makes a strange sound, startling you as if he is about to puke any moment. ‘’Give me a fucking bucket.’’ he comments, grumpily you both ignored him for so long. You feel embarrassed and mocked.

Aemond’s smile dies and he is back to hiding his emotions. ‘’Aegon, perhaps you can go get a drink?’’ He suggest, sweetly. Aegon nods, taking off. Once Aegon is gone, he turns to you. ‘’I apologize for him. We had such a lovely conversation and now its ruined.’’ You nod, but part of you is worried the conversation isn’t allowed.

You try to give him some advice, though. ‘’Don’t be. He is your brother, but you don’t control him.’’

He seems dumbstruck by those words, staring at his empty champagne glass. ‘’Hm. I’ve been apologizing for his behavior before I was old enough to walk.’’ He mutters.

You smile, faking a bit of a stern glare causing him to chuckle. ‘’Well, maybe you should stop apologizing.’’ You mean it. He is not responsible for Aegon.

The prince nods, as if you have given him a lot to think about. ‘’Maybe I should.’’

You notice the Prince, Jacaerys has joined you, listening in with his hands folded on his back. You notice the seahorse pin on his chest.‘’Ahum.’’

You dip in a curtsy. ‘’Your highness.’’

Jacaerys ignores you, staring at prince Aemond. ‘’Uncle.’’

‘’Nephew.’’

You notice another rivalry, unfolding right before your eyes. You wish to leave, right now.

Jacaerys speaks, his voice taunting but soft. ‘’Thank you for keeping Lady Y/n occupied when I spoke to the other ladies. It is her turn now, however.’’ Aemond lifts his chin as if he wants to speak, but changes his mind.

‘’Of course.’’ And with that, he lets you go. You turn on your heel, walking back to Aemond. ‘’It is always nice to talk with someone about history.’’ You thank him with that and smile. He doesn't smile. He does not even glance at you, anymore.

All you get is a vague, disinterested ‘’Hm.’’

The prince takes you with him, walking to the buffet before offering you a glass of champagne. ‘’Did he hurt you?’’

He casually asks between filling the glasses.

You are confused. ‘’Who?’’

He shrugs, as if it's obvious. ‘’Aemond?’’

You become even more confused. ‘’No?’’

Jace leans in a little closer. ‘’You must know, it is inappropriate for any selected to have another lover. It can lead to disqualification or worse, punishment.’’ He warns you, kindly of that. You know he does not mean to harm or threaten you.

You nod, thankful but you do want to clear things up.‘’I didn’t know that. But Prince Aemond and me only talked about Dornish statues.’’ Not very romantic, so why does your heart beat so fast?

Jacaerys scoff. ‘’Statues?’’ You can see that Aemond is likely the only history buff in his family. That must be lonely.

You smile, telling him the same thing you told Aemond. ‘’Yes, in Sunspear-’’

But this time, you get a deep sigh before Jace even rolls his eyes. ‘’Don’t you want to talk about something more exciting?’’ He suggests.

You feel as if you have been hit in the face. You feel rejected and foolish. ‘’Like what?’’

He shrugs. ‘’Most girls tell me of their house, or their horses.’’ Their horses? You hear yourself think, and its not a pleasant thought. How…dull? And all of them? You bet that Floris told them to bring it up.

You repeat after him. ‘’Horses?’’

‘’You don’t like horses?’’ He asks. Horses terrify you.

‘’I don’t dislike them.’’ You say and it's the truth. Horses are beautiful from a distance. You just don't want to ride them. Or talk about them. ‘’I don’t like talking about horses. I don’t want to have dull meaningless conversation with you.’’

Jace straightens his back. ‘’That is part of your job, should you become my queen.’’ You feel your lips hang in a sorrowful line and for the first time you wonder if this is what you really want.

Jace notices your mood change quickly. ‘’But it's alright. We can talk about something else too. What is your favorite sweet?’’

You nod, accepting his attempts at winning your heart. ‘’I like cupcakes.’’ Jacaerys takes a chocolate cupcake for you from the impressive cake stand, looking at it very briefly, inspecting it before handing it to you. ‘’These are my favorites. I have yet to taste anything else that taste as good as these.’’ That sounds promising. You clumsily bite the cupcake off, tasting the surprisingly good white chocolate filling. It tastes as good as he said it would, and your argument from earlier vanishes as snow that is basked in sunrays. ‘’It is really good.’’ You say, licking your fingers off when you think no one is watching. Jacaerys is amused by your actions, before slyly doing the same.

Jacaerys seems a bit nervous, before he sighs after you both have finished your cupcakes. ‘’I’m sorry for being a little mean about Aemond earlier. I’ve been hearing disturbing news about him and his brother. I don’t see you girls as my cattle or my livestock, but I do feel responsible. You are here under my roof, for me. You put up with etiquette and court rules for me, the very least I can do, is protect you from men that want to harm you.’’ You notice your gaze swift between Jace and Aemond, who is now talking with an unknown silver-haired woman in a luscious green gown. That must be Helaena.

You feel foolish you even entertained the prince that long, or talked with them. ‘’Do you think Aemond is that malicious?’’You wonder.

Jace does not need long to answer that question. ‘’I know he is. They both are. If you are important to me, he wants to destroy you.’’ You find that a little extreme but Jace’s stern glare tells you there is nothing funny about this. ‘’Just be careful, Y/N. That’s all I ask.’’ And you nod, obedient as a good girl would. But your gaze kept stealing peaks at the forbidden prince, however.

This is part one, for now.

I hope you all liked it

Its different than what i usually write.

Reblogs/comments are welcome!:))

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