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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

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Captivated (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

***please note that this is a sequel to “Safety”, which can be read HERE. Reading Safety before reading this is not necessary, but doing so will provide additional context for this story***

***please note that this now has a sequel, “Storms”, which can be read HERE.

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, references to an ill parent, spoilers for House of the Dragon

Word Count: 6,000 ish.

Summary: While serving as Princess Rhaenyra’s lady in waiting, you’ve been granted ample time to become well-acquainted with the man they call Breakbones. The Princess’ recent tours of Westeros in search of a befitting King Consort have only allowed the two of you to grow closer, and now you’re completely taken with Ser Harwin Strong. But the Princess’ recent tour to the Riverlands, in addition to some troubling news from home concerning the health of your father, Lord Tyrell, have left you feeling discouraged. You’ve begun to fear your affections for the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms may not be returned. Perhaps a surprise visitor from Highgarden will clear things up...

A/N: Y’all... I am FLOORED. Absolutely shooketh. Nothing I have written has ever received such an overwhelming response. Thank you all so much to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged Safety. I appreciate each and every one of you so very much. I am not sure how many parts this series will get, but the ending of this one pretty clearly sets up a part 3... so let me know if that’s something you’d like to see. Please see the A/N at the ending of this chapter for notes regarding the taglist. Thank you all again. I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week! 🖤 PS: this is a Criston Cole hate account. #sorrynotsorry.

I really hope the tags work and I won’t have to post this twice.🥲 Please forgive me if I do.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra smiled warmly at the small child, as did you. The little girl humbly accepted the half a loaf of bread from the Princess’ hands.

You and the Princess were currently in the heart of King’s Landing, inside one of the city orphanages. The harvest that year was already proving to be bountiful, almost entirely in part to the good people who worked the lands of your home. It seemed that there was plenty of food to go around those days, and you were grateful that the Princess and the King were of the mind that it ought not to be wasted.

Back in the Reach, you and your brother had often done the same- you’d visited all of the orphanages and sick homes in Oldtown and even The Arbor at one point or another. Your father has instilled the concept of giving back to those in need very early on in your lives, as your grandmother had instilled the same in him.

You had mentioned this in passing to Princess Rhaenyra one day, when she was still becoming acquainted with you. Once she’d heard of it, she declared it to be a worthwhile endeavor, and adopted something similar as part of her own regular routine. As such, she had made it a point to visit a new place in need throughout the city each week.

While it warmed your heart to help those less fortunate than yourself, especially the parentless children, you were happy that the Princess had decided to become more hands-on with her charitable works for other reasons. You were no fool- you knew how positively the common folk viewed noble men and women who showed them sympathy and kindness.

As lady in waiting to the future Queen, you knew it would be in Princess Rhaenyra’s best interest to win the hearts of the people as soon as possible. Dark plots were actively working against Princess Rhaenyra already, and the more political tools she equipped herself with, the better she’d fare in any future struggle for power.

While you had fully supported the Princess’ recent charitable endeavors, as did King Viserys, others from Court were less than thrilled with the idea. Queen Alicent had voiced some concern, as did Ser Criston Cole. He had deemed it too dangerous.

Even now, the Dornish knight was visibly sweating from across the room. From what the Princess had told you personally, and from what you had heard from others, Ser Criston Cole had experienced many battles, and lived to tell the tale of them all. And yet, in a simple orphanage within King’s Landing, he appeared to be visibly sweating and his eyes shifted across the room madly. His nervousness on behalf of the Princess’ safety had to have occupied his every thought.

Standing beside him, and much more relaxed in composure, was Ser Harwin Strong.

In your time at Court, Ser Harwin Strong had become a member of the City Watch. As a result, he’d become quite familiar with the inner workings of the city, and was comfortable walking amongst the streets. Ser Harwin had proven himself to be an asset for the Princess’ repeated journeys out into the city. Being out in the heart of the city didn’t appear to scare him or cause him any serious cause for concern. But you doubted anything would.

Unlike the panicked eyes of Ser Criston, Ser Harwin’s gentle eyes watched over you and the Princess carefully as you interacted with the children bouncing with excitement around you. You caught him staring at you as you continued to distribute bread, but forced yourself not to think too much of it.

Eventually, it was time to return the Red Keep. You could have sworn you’d never seen Ser Criston look so relieved- though perhaps that would only be true until the Princess’ next escapade concluded. He and Ser Harwin scouted the entrance to the orphanage to make sure there was no sign of danger while you and Princess Rahenyra bid the children goodbye with promises to return in a few weeks.

You made your way out of the dwelling to where the carriage, along with the rest of the guards who had been recruited to comprise the escort, was waiting for the two of you. Princess Rhaenyra climbed in first. You were quick to follow, but were temporarily paused when someone politely offered you an arm for assistance.

It was Ser Harwin.

“My Lady,” he said, bowing his head downwards towards his extended arm.

Despite yourself, you smiled at him as a sign of your gratitude, and hopped up and inside the carriage with his assistance. Once you and Princess Rhaenyra were both seated inside, the carriage was lifted up and off the ground, beginning the return back to the Red Keep. Ser Criston and Ser Harwin, one of them on either side of the carriage, kept vigilant eyes on your surroundings as the entourage moved through the streets. You caught glimpses of the two knights every now and then through the grated windows near the top of the carriage.

“I cannot tell you how relieved I am to be back,” Princess Rhaenyra sighed after a moment. She leant back against the wall of the carriage, and settled down further in her seat.

From your seat across from her, you offered her a small smile. “I recall the feeling of returning home after a long journey very well, Your Grace. I dare say that there is little else that compares.”

Princess Rhaenyra laughed shortly, but you knew she meant no offense. “Though I dare say the feeling of being out of the clutches of power-hungry suitors to be a far better one than that which you have described.”

You stifled a laugh, knowing your involuntary response would be frowned upon by most others at Court. However, none would be more displeased to hear of it than King Viserys, who had through painstakingly great lengths to arrange the tour of the Seven Kingdoms. It was all organized in the hope that his daughter might find a suitor worthy of both her heart and the title of King Consort.

Unfortunately, the tour had proven to be unsuccessful thus far. Princess Rhaenyra had visited the Reach, the Westerlands, and the Riverlands, and not a single notable contender had emerged- at least not in the eyes of Rhaenyra. She had claimed the majority of the hopefuls who had paid her visit to be either far too old, or far too young. She noted that the rest of them had been about as “insufferable” as their power hungry father and grandfathers, who had watched the proceedings with greedy eyes.

You had only received second hand accounts of the events, and largely from the Princess’ sole perspective. While it would have been expected of you to attend Princess Rhaenyra throughout her travels, she had taken her junior ladies in waiting with her for assistance instead. Meanwhile, she had tasked you with what she deemed to be far more important.

Princess Rhaenyra had asked you to stay behind, in King's Landing, to see to her personal affairs. It had been difficult to accept at first, even more so when the Princess went to visit the Reach. But you trusted and respected her opinion that you would be more of use to her elsewhere. While there would always be secretarial duties to attend to, and charitable functions to plan, the main reason the Princess had asked you to stay behind was for reconnaissance purposes.

Foul whispers about the Princess were abound, and they only grew more troubling in her absence. But with you, an obvious ally and devout supporter of the future Queen, roaming around the Red Keep in her stead, the whispers were more timid, and their perpetrators were kept at bay. Any rumors that still managed to reach your ears were immediately reported to Princess Rhaenyra upon her return.

“At least the Riverlands were quite remarkable,” Princess Rhaenyra noted positively, changing the subject. She gazed out the window, as if recalling a scene from her memory. “Even though they are named for such, I was truly amazed at the sheer amount of rivers we came across.”

You smiled at her enthusiasm.

“Have you ever been? To the Riverlands?”

“I’m afraid I have not had the pleasure, Your Grace.”

“We must change that then,” the Princess insisted, giving you a conspiring smile.

“Do you intend to return to the Riverlands soon?” you asked, with sincere interest. “Has one of the suitors finally caught your attention?”

Princess Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, a gesture that most would deem extremely unladylike. However, you knew it to be a common occurrence for her, and had grown quite accustomed to it. Her boldness was appealing, and refreshing amongst the other “highly-refined” ladies at Court. She had thick skin, and never hesitated to speak her mind; you knew that both qualities would serve her well as future Queen.

“Don’t sound too eager, Lady Y/N,” she chided playfully. “Lord Tully was a gracious host, of course. But unfortunately, all of the gentlemen callers were just the same. Too old, too young, or too-”

“-Insufferable,�� you finished for her, having heard her same speech twice before.

Princess Rhaenyra laughed. “Precisely.”

In your time in service to the Princess, you had come to be quite close. You considered her a friend, and could only hope that she considered you to be the same. On bolder days, you might have contemplated whether Queen Alicent’s marriage to her father had left the young woman in search of some companionship. If there was a void in that area of her life, you were happy to fill it. You missed her when she was gone on her travels… But perhaps you missed one of her most recent traveling companions even more.

“It was not entirely a waste, I suppose,” Princess Rhaenyra admitted then, her tone shifting once more. “Ser Harwin Strong is far from terrible company.”

Immediately, you glanced at the carriage windows with worry. Was it possible that the very man in question was able to overhear you now? The streets were alive with people, but if Ser Harwin was walking right alongside the carriage…

However, Princess Rhaenyra did not seem deterred. In fact, noticing your apprehension only encouraged her more. She leaned forward in her seat, and said, “We had many great conversations, Ser Harwin and I.”

You forced yourself to smile, torn between the comradery and duty you felt for the princess, and the aching pain you felt in your heart.

“I can tell you all about our conversations, if you’d like,” Princess Rhaenyra offered, clearly, but thankfully, oblivious to your inner struggle. “I believe you’ll find them to be very interesting.”

Normally, you would readily indulge in some harmless gossip with her. But now, you loathed the thought of what she might tell you. “If it is your wish to share such details, Your Grace.”

The Princess finally noticed that something was amiss. She sat back in her seat, and gave you a befuddled look. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” she questioned. “You’ve been very quiet these past few days…”

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to be honest with the Princess. But at that moment, you could not compel yourself to tell her the entire truth. So, you settled for a half-truth, and opted to share with her one of the two things that hung very heavy over your head as of late.

“My father has taken ill,” you admit, lowering your voice so as not to be overheard by anyone outside of the carriage. “I received a letter from my brother just a few days past”

Princess Rhaenyra’s confused expression shifted to one of sympathy.

“The Maesters say he should pull through,” you continued, “But I am worried.”

The Princess had never been anything less than kind to you, but still, you could not have anticipated her next move. She reached across the carriage and placed a soothing hand overtop of your own, which you hadn’t realized you’d wrung together in your concern.

“My father has always described Lord Larris as a strong man,” she assured you full-heartedly. “I trust the gods will see to it that he recovers fully and swiftly.”

You were touched by her gesture. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Should you desire to go visit him, I will agree to it at once.”

“I will keep that in mind, Princess.”

Later that evening, once the Princess had retired, you made your way from her chambers towards your own. Though the hallways of the Red Keep were seldom unoccupied, save the guards keeping watch, they certainly appeared to be that night.

It was unfortunate that the one person you encountered was the one man that, for once, you hoped not to see.

“Ser Harwin.”

The knight paused in his tracks, and bowed his head graciously in greeting. “Lady Y/N.”

“It is a good evening, is it not?”

“It is,” he agreed, smiling softly. “And, seeing as I have been fortunate enough to speak with you, it stands to improve even more.”

Despite your reservations, you blushed.

The relationship between yourself and Ser Harwin Strong, much like your relationship with Princess Rhaenyra, had grown tremendously during your time at Court. And, it had blossomed even as of late. While the Princess had tasked you with seeing to matters in King’s Landing while she went on her tours of Westeros, there were times when you had seen to everything that needed to be done, and as a result, you sought company instead. More often than not, that company had been found in Ser Harwin. Though he had his own duties to see to as a member of the City Watch, he’d never failed to make time for you.

At first, it started off with polite conversation occurring throughout strolls throughout the castle gardens and surrounding grounds. Princess Rhaenyra was correct in her insinuation earlier in the day- despite the bruteish nickname he bore, Ser Harwin was more than a decent conversationalist. The topics were light hearted, but any conversation with him sent your heart racing anyway.

Eventually, you began to share meals together on occasion. Deeper conversations occurred during those times. You’d come to discover that you and Ser Harwin had much more in common than either of you realized. You were both very close to your families. You had each lost your mothers at a young age, but both of you had good relationships with your fathers, and absolutely adored your siblings. He had enamored you with tales of the haunted halls of Harrenhal, and in exchange, you had told him all about the gardens of Highgarden and seasonal festivals that the Reach boasted.

Most recently, the two of you, along with a small party composed of his brother, two sisters, and another few members of the Court, had gone for a few days’ hunt in the Kingswood. You hadn’t lucked out on the hunt like some of the others had, but it was a thrilling experience nonetheless.

The hunt had led Ser Harwin to discover your familiarity with a bow. Though perhaps it was not very lady-like, your father had taught you how to shoot at a young age, deciding that it had the potential to be a unique party trick, at the very least. Your hobby had never been put to use by targeting live animals, but rather, stationary or inanimate objects thrown up into the air. For you, it had never been about the hunt, just the sport of it all.

As soon as you explained as much to Ser Harwin, he requested you to demonstrate your skills. You attempted to politely decline, but upon seeing a disappointed glint in his eyes, you changed your mind. A small crowd had assembled for the showdown between you and Ser Harwin one afternoon. His sisters, surprisingly, cheered for your victory instead of their older brother’s. You found it to be amusing, but oddly touching. Ser Harwin took it in stride, and merely jested about the familial betrayal.

At the end of the shooting rounds, you emerged as the winner, but by only a narrow margin. Ser Harwin could not be faulted; it was well known he was far more talented with a sword than bow, anyway.

Part of you feared Ser Harwin’s reaction, worried that his displeasure would put a strain on your growing relationship. But he had surprised you- as he often did.

“Any boy can denounce a loss as unfair, or even simply blame the wind for a poor shot,” he’d said, grinning ear to ear as he plucked one of your arrows from the bullseye of a target, and handed it back to you gracefully. “It takes a man to be willing to admit defeat to the truly better aim, regardless of who that victor may be.”

Ser Harwin Strong was a flatterer, through and through.

You raised your head to look him fully straight on. Speaking in such close proximity to Ser Harwin always made you recall just how massive he was. Your chin was practically tilted upwards, and his head was bowed down to regard you.

“I apologize that we have not been able to speak much before now,” Ser Harwin said, sounding and looking completely sincere.

“Your apologies are not necessary, My Lord. I am sure you’ve had a great deal of things to attend to, especially after having been gone these past few weeks.”

As was expected, Ser Harwin had traveled with Princess Rhaenyra during her tour of the Riverlands- his home. You had no doubt he had presented himself to her as a potential suitor in Lord Tully’s halls, along with dozens of other vying contenders. As the oldest son of Lord Lyonel, and Heir to Harrenhal, you knew Ser Harwin had every right to offer the Princess his hand. In fact, his failure to do so might have even been considered a slight against the crown- one that his father, the current Master of Laws, would not have likely been able to afford.

But you dreaded the day when news would reach your ears of Ser Harwin Strong’s betrothal. Between his title, strength, and handsomeness, it was a downright wonder why a match had not been made for him yet. You knew it was only a matter of time… and while you had come to cultivate deep feelings for the knight, Princess Rhaenyra would be a far better match for him.

Since their return from the Riverlands, you noticed more and more frequent looks exchanged between the two of them. Knowing looks. It was apparent to you that Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Harwsin held information that you were not privy to. And you had a sinking feeling as to what it was.

An announcement had yet to be made, but Rhaenyra had yet to complete her tour. She was off to the Stormlands the following week. And yet, it was likely all for show. She had to be fair and allow other potential suitors to believe they still stood a chance for her hand- when clearly they did not.

Princess Rhaenyra must have chosen Ser Harwin Strong.

The Realm’s Delight and Breakbones? They made a better pair than one would think. She was a dragon, and he was a fearsome warrior. Her mental ingenuity would only be supported by his brute force of strength. Together, they would take down enemies to her claim one by one. They would want or need for nothing- and neither would their children.

And you, you would resign yourself to your place. Despite being the daughter of Lord Tyrell, you could never hope to compete with the Princess of Westeros for a suitor’s hand. And you never would. You had sworn her your allegiance… your true heart’s desire be damned.

“How were your travels, My Lord?”

“A bit tiring, if I may speak plainly,” he replied carefully. Even you had to admit that he sounded fatigued. “But it was necessary, which has made it easier to bear.”

I suppose winning the heart of the future Queen of Westeros made the trip worthwhile as well, you couldn’t help but think to yourself. “I am glad to hear that, My Lord.”

Ser Harwin reached a hand up to smooth through his brown locks, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You realized with slight shock that he was demonstrating an emotion you had yet to see him display in all the time you’d known him- Ser Harwin was nervous.

“Are you well, Ser Harwin?” you questioned, not caring at all about the concern which was evident in your voice.

Ser Harwin’s gaze softened even more. Your concern had moved him. “All is well, Lady Y/N…” He cleared his throat, before his eyes fell to the floor. “Or, rather, there are no physical ailments burdening me…”

On one hand, you were taken aback by the foreignness of it all. This large man looked as nervous and shy as some of the children you had visited that same morning. On the other hand, it was slightly endearing to learn that a man with the nickname Breakbones was not able to escape the burden of emotions that plagued everyone else. He was just as capable of being human as those two, even three times less his size.

Before you mentally dared to compare him to a gentle giant, Ser Harwin continued.

“I had some… rather enlightening conversations with Princess Rhaenyra during our travels,” he admitted, the nerves he physically displayed betraying his voice ever so slightly as well. “The conversations opened my eyes to a truth that I have denied for quite some time.”

You were surprised to hear that he had not been taken with Princess Rhaenyra upon first sight- most men were. But yet again, Ser Harwin was not like most men.

“I was hoping to discuss this further with you,” Ser Harwin confessed. He looked you straight on, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from his for a moment, even if you had wanted to. “Somewhere more private?”

There was a hopeful glint in his hazel eyes, but the thought of advising him on matters pertaining to keeping the Princess’ interest made you feel suddenly ill.

“Perhaps we could dine together in a few days?” he suggested then, his nerves amplified by your lack of immediate response. “Or, maybe we could take a walk in the gardens?”

You almost caved right then and there. Almost. Ser Harwin knew how much you liked walking through the castle gardens. Even though they paled in comparison to those of Highgarden, they still reminded you of home, and walking along the paths lined with various greenery and floral displays brought you comfort.

“I shall have to see, My Lord,” you replied, even though it practically pained you to not immediately agree. “The Princess has given me leave to visit my father, and I am inclined to take her offer.”

Instead of looking disappointed, Ser Harwin gave you a look of pure guilt.

“My sincerest apologies, My Lady,” he said. “... I may have inadvertently heard about the news of your father. While I did not mean to overhear you, I heard the Princess speak my name this afternoon, while the escort was on the way back to the Red Keep… I feared she required something of me. By the time I realized that I was not needed, I fear I may have heard too much.”

It was nice to have confirmation that the walls of the carriage were not very thick, if only for future reference. Part of you felt embarrassed by the fact that Ser Harwin had overheard your personal matter, but the other part felt relieved that the knowledge that had clouded your mind over the past few days had been made known to one of the few individuals you trusted in King’s Landing. And seeing as Ser Harwin looked and sounded as guilty as he admitted to be, you could not find it in yourself to be cross with him.

“Your apologies are not necessary, My Lord.”

“I wish Lord Tyrell a quick recovery,” he confided to you. “And, should you leave for Highgarden, I wish you safe travels.”

You smiled graciously. “Thank you, Ser Harwin. Should I see him, I shall pass your well wishes along to my father.”

It was Ser Harwin’s turn to smile then. But after a few moments, nervousness seeped into his composure once again. Though he was more soft-spoken than you had once imagined him to be, his next words were said so softly, that had you not been alone in the corridor, with only a few inches between yourselves, you might not have heard them at all.

“Should you decide to leave, Lady Y/N… I fear I will find myself counting down the days until I am in your company once more.”

… This man. This man was going to rip out your heart, tear it into pieces, toss it on the ground, and stomp on it through his impending marriage to the Princess you served dutifully. You knew you had to begin to prepare yourself to suffer through it… But you would also take any attention and warm sentiments that Ser Harwin Strong would grant you in the meantime.

The memories of his kindness that he had shown you would have to be enough to get you through the pain you were sure to endure.

Despite the forwardness of Ser Harwin’s words, what was more alarming was the stark seriousness of his expression. He meant every word of what he had just said, and you believed it fully. Still, you would have to be daft to decry him now just for the sake of proprietary.

“I must admit… I shall miss you too, My Lord.”

By the end of the following week, Princess Rhaenyra was off on her tour of the Stormlands, with Ser Criston Cole glady serving as one of her escorts.

You had seen Ser Harwin in passing since the night you last spoke, but you did not make any further meaningful conversation with him. Though you missed your talks, you reasoned it was better for your heart to start putting some distance between the two of you now, before his marriage to Princess Rhaenyra would place you worlds apart.

You had seen to all the tasks that Princess Rhaenyra had left you with, and had begun to pack and ready the rest of your things. The plan was to embark on the trek back to Highgarden within a day or two.

But your plan was cut short when a messenger knocked on the door to your chambers. You had a visitor, and they were waiting for you in the courtyard of the Red Keep.

You hurried to the courtyard with moderate speed. It was seldom you had visitors- a cousin had visited once, a few weeks back. But besides that, no one had yet to pay you a visit. Many visitors to the Red Keep had it in mind to speak with many, many others besides the likes of you.

But when you entered the courtyard, you noticed the small entourage that had just arrived. No carriage in sight- just several men and their steeds. But that didn’t mean the visitor was from a place nearby. When your eyes fell upon a lean figure donned in the familiar colors of your House, you beamed brightly, knowing that without a doubt, this visitor was truly one for you.

“Brother?”

Your brother, Derron Tyrell, the Heir to Highgarden, turned to face you upon your call. When he saw you, he grinned. “Sister!”

You crossed the courtyard in large strides and practically leapt into Derron’s arms. Your brother caught you and returned your familial embrace with ease.

“I have missed you!” you told him hurriedly, pulling away to look at him. Even though it had only been a few months, going on a year at most, since you had seen him last, it had felt like far longer. But Derron looked the same as he always had, and it brought you joy to see him in good health.

“And I you, Y/N,” Derron replied, his smile still as bright as your own.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?” you demanded of him in a hushed whisper, your arms falling back down to your sides. Suddenly, a terrible thought entered your mind. “Did I miss a raven? Is father-”

“Father is alive,” your brother was quick to assure you. “And you did not miss a raven, for there was none sent to you.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

Derron looked at his entourage surrounding him. Though you recognized most of them as bannermen with whom he had rode and fought beside for years, you could tell that your brother was wary of their presence at this particular moment.

“Come now, Sister- we have much to discuss.”

It seemed that someone, although not you, had been expecting Derron Tyrell to arrive in King’s Landing. Chambers had already been set aside for him and his men, and he’d even been given a special audience with the King later in the week to discuss ongoing matters in the Reach.

Later that day, once your brother was settled in his chambers and unpacked, you met with him. You were eager to learn of the cause of his surprise visit, and to privately discuss what he had referred to in the courtyard.

The pair of you were seated at a table on the balcony connected to his chambers. As Derron poured you a glass of wine, before pouring one for himself, you asked him the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since his arrival.

“How is Father?”

“He’s made a turn for the better since I last wrote to you,” Derron answered truthfully, setting the pitcher of wine down. “He was still too weak to travel here, but the Maesters were even more hopeful than before by the time I left.”

That was great news. Perhaps your return visit to the Reach could wait a few more days, and once your brother’s affairs in King’s Landing were settled, you could ride back to Highgarden with him, and be all the more safer for it.

“What brings you here, Derron?” you asked then.

“You may not have received a raven, but Father did,” he replied. “Father received two of them, actually.”

“Who were they from?”

“The first was from Princess Rhaenyra herself.”

That was extremely surprising. Had you done something to upset the Princess? She seemed alright when she bade you goodbye before departing for the Stormlands… but perhaps she was attempting to save face in front of those around her. Had she written to your father and asked you to be removed from her service?

“I can see your mind racing,” your brother observed with a smirk. “You needn’t worry, Y/N. Princess Rhaenyra simply wished him a swift recovery, and invited him to King’s Landing to visit with King Viserys and to discuss matters of the Reach as soon as he was able to travel once more. I wish I had the letter to show you, but I believe father kept that for himself- the Princess complimented you greatly. I wish you could have seen the smile on his face as he read her words.”

The thought of your father’s smile due to humbling praises from Princess Rhaenyra brought a smile to your own face. You missed him. You missed home. But the visit with Derron would have to be enough, until a more suitable opportunity to return to Highgarden would appear.

“You mean to meet with the King later this week?” you asked, slightly confused. “Have you traveled here on Father’s behalf, then? Was there a matter so urgent that could not wait until he was able to travel here himself?”

“Yes… and no,” Derron. “All is as well as it can be in the Reach; the harvest has been as bountiful as we suspected it would be. But there was another, more pressing matter that required one of us to see to it immediately. Father decided it would be good practice for me to come and speak with the King about business while I was already in King’s Landing dealing with this other matter.”

The other matter must have been extremely pressing, if it had compelled your father to send Derron all the way to King’s Landing without so much as a raven’s notice. “Pray tell- what is this urgent matter you speak of?”

“That would involve the second raven Father received,” Derron pivoted. “Fortunately, I do have that letter in my possession. We both thought it might be best for you to see it for yourself.”

Your brother withdrew a rolled up piece of parchment from his coat, and handed it over to you. You took it with great intrigue, and immediately set about reading the tiny scrawlings littering the page.

“To Lord Larris Tyrell of Highgarden, Defender of the Marshes, Lord Paramount of the Reach, and Warden of the South:

I hope you are able to overlook my forwardness. I, Ser Harwin Strong, son of Lord Lyonnel Strong of Harrenhal, write to you regarding a most urgent matter of the mind and heart…”

You tore your eyes away from the page, and looked back up at your brother. The reassuring look on his face confirmed what you had suspected- your eyes were not deceiving you.

Ser Harwin had written to your father directly.

But what on earth for?!

“We received the raven with this message just a few days before I set out for King’s Landing. But I assure you, Father and I have discussed the contents of this letter at great length.”

You were almost too afraid to ask, but you found the courage to do so anyway. “What does this letter have to do with your visit?”

“If you would continue reading on, you shall see for yourself,” Derron encouraged you. “There are important conversations to be had with Ser Harwin Strong… as well as his father, Lord Lyonel. Such matters are far more appropriate to address in person, rather than by letter.”

Your eyes fell once more down to the parchment in your hands. “What matters could possibly require such attention?”

“... I can tell by your reaction that you have not spoken with Ser Harwin as of late,” your brother deduced. Didn’t last week count? “But that is of no matter. Now that I am here, we can all address it. Please, Y/N. Keep reading.”

“...

I would like to start by wishing you the quickest of recoveries.

I hope this letter reaches you in due time- I intend to discuss this subject with Lady Y/N in depth as soon as she allows me, and as soon as I muster up the courage to do so. I believe she is the one who deserves to learn of this matter first, and so that she may pass her judgment on it. But, on the advice of my father, out of respect for your great House, and out of respect to my own, I thought it wise to at least enlighten you about my intentions.

I apologize- I have never had the reputation for being a particularly eloquent man. But for this letter, I shall to be just that. I have only recently returned to King’s Landing from escorting Her Grace, the Princess Rhaenyra to my home, the Riverlands. Despite the tiredness I feel, the journey opened my eyes to a truth that I feel drawn to act upon at once.

My Lord, I have had the immense pleasure of sharing company with Lady Y/N since the Princess Rhaenyra recruited her to be of her service some time ago. Although I am sure you are aware, Lady Y/N is a great compliment to your house. Her kindness and charms are extended warmly to all, from the royal family to the poor of King’s Landing. Her wit entertains all who are blessed with her conversation, and her tenacity to succeed in an environment without the support of her family, who she clearly loves so dearly, has been nothing short of inspiring- even to a ‘brute’ such as myself.

All of this, when combined with the mere passage of time, and counsel from Princess Rhaenyra herself throughout our recent travels, has led to me to face one conclusion that I have been blind to for some time.

I have become completely captivated by Lady Y/N.

…”

Derron’s next words nearly fell upon deaf ears as you spaced out, torn between continuing your enthralled reading of the letter in your hands, and seeking clarification to the many questions that had been raised by it.

“It would seem,” your brother said wistfully, “That I am here to discuss the terms of your courtship, and inevitable betrothal, to Ser Harwin Strong.”

You were astonished.

“But before I can do that, I must know… Is this what you truly want?”

Part 3, “Storms,” can be read HERE.

A/N: Thank you for reading!🖤

Please feel free to let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist for any future parts. I apologize sincerely if I’ve missed anyone- please let me know if that’s the case! I tried to tag everyone from the first part who requested it, as well as some people who left comments on reblogs, but please do not hesitate to let me know if I missed anyone, or if you are on the taglist currently but wish to be removed.

TAGLIST: @whitetigerlover17 @littlebirdgot @strawbbyjamb @te5s3ract @landofdreamsworld @nerdboylover @piper570 @ephemeralninon @linkpk88 @green--beanie @kaygilles @hippzella @wicked-hg @thatgaytevinter @nowheredreamer @ateliefloresdaprimavera @queenofterrasen418 @saintspector @thebigbadbatswife @blazinglioness @itevilhag @chlo-feigh

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pinklikeroses · 11 months

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I really don’t like how one demential Stella is from helluva boss. She has the potential to be a really interesting complex character but is watered down to be a mean wife with zero development

I also don’t like how the show and the fans justify stolas’s cheating.

It’s terrible that he was forced to take part in an arranged marriage and that even though he made an effort to at least have a platonic or cordial relationship with Stella—

That she rebuffed his efforts and was a total asshole to him.

But no one deserves to be cheated on. I really hate how with a lot of media these days….characters both in canon and fandoms are written as black and white and aren’t given proper layers. And I think fandoms have ruined that. Like, you can still like a terrible character while acknowledging that they’re a terrible person without making shitty excuses for them

You can hate/ dislike a bad character without justifying all the terrible things that happened to them. I think the problem is ppl will give their faves or protagonist the benefit of the doubt or give them grace but characters we’re supposed to hate, that are written as bad, don’t deserve grace and patience and understanding

For some characters that’s true….some characters don’t deserve sympathy some characters don’t deserve redemption

But there’s a proper way to write it and I feel like creators and fans are missing that

Some of y’all already know how I feel about lore Olympus

It does a bad job of writing complex characters and holding the “bad” ones to a higher standard. So much so it backfires.

Minthe is one of the characters that was done SO dirty and was only put there to be an obstacle for hxp same as Demeter.

Minthe cheating on hades? Bad! Persephone persuing hades even after discovering he was already in an official relationship? That’s okay!

Because she’s our main protagonist! She’s nice! And not mean like that b*tch minthe!

Zeus cheating on Hera multiple times, with different women for decades? Bad! Zeus is a womanizing jerk who ditched his kids and mistreats his wife!

Hera cheats on Zeus by having an on again off again affair for freaking decades!?! That’s okay! Bc we love Hera! She supports hxp! She’s trying to set them up! She feels bad for poor poor hades! She’s constantly mistreated by her husband so that’s okay

Stolas was mistreated by Stella who was and is a terrible spouse but that doesn’t justify his cheating. I do feel bad for him sometimes. It sucks that the physical relationship he had for blitzo turned emotional and that he started having romantic feelings for him,only to get rejected time and time again. Stolas isn’t an entirely bad character we see multiple sides of him, he loves his daughter, he cares about blitzo he tried to do right by Stella. But even good characters can still do bad things.

And I don’t wanna hear “well they’re In hell lol 🤪” especially since we’ve seen multiple how monogamy and marriage are treated in this show. If the show is addressing how important it is..then it matters. If it didn’t it wouldn’t…..

It would’ve been nice to see that development and care be put into Stella instead of the classic hateful wife/spouse….

#me ramblings #Stella #Stolas #helluva boss #critique #lo critical #anti lore olympus #lo minthe #lo Demeter #lo hades #lo persephone #just something that’s been on my mind …..

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colorlesschristmastree · 7 months

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I’m a bit peeved I have to say this and I’m frankly exhausted of the fact that people need to be reminded of this fact.

Feyre suffered just as much if not more than everyone in this series including Tamlin’s pathetic disgusting ass.

He’s not the one whose blood got boiled in his veins by Amarantha, he’s not the one who was mocked and humiliated by her in public over and over again, he’s not the one who was given impossible tasks that would either result in his death or being horrifically beaten, he’s not the one who was locked under the mountain for 50 years, unlike the rest of the HLs who had to stay there and suffer he was living fairly comfortably during those 50 years, he just had the anxiety looming over his head of impending doom and while that’s traumatic it’s not the same as experiencing it.

Why does he need to be given the benefit of the doubt? Why is he deserving of sympathy or grace from the fandom? “His trauma made him do this”, “When he lost control of his magic and it attacked Feyre it was him having a panic attack”, “Everything he did came from a good place”. Okay? Why should I give a fuck? Do you know how many real men have sob stories like Tamlin and take it out on the women in their lives? Would you tell those women or the people who support them that they need to give that person the benefit or the doubt or try to understand where he was coming from? There really aren’t any valid Tamlin defense arguments and his stans are quite vile.

Anyways stan Feyre and Tamlin death arc

#anti tamlin #anti tamlin stans #tamlin stans dni #pro feyre #pro feyre archeron #feyre supremacy #my posts #get the pseudo intellectual morally superior contrarians out of this fandom please #they are annoying #back to my hater ways sorry guys

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starlightshadowsworld · 10 months

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The thing about Dark Jason Grace is that he would never have supported Luke.

Jason's whole beef is with the God's.

In particular his father.

He owns that shit, he does not drag or bring anyone else into it.

It's why I say he gets Krios's throne.

Because no matter when or why, Jason makes it to his camp and he fights Krios.

He destroys him and shatters his throne.

That than reforms around him.

Jason may hate he's nothing but a nameless soilder to the God's, despises them for everything they've done to him.

But also what they are doing to the rest.

And he would never let his people down.

His legion recognise him.

The 5th cohort, in tears salute him.

Preator or not.

Traitor or not.

He is their leader.

And they will follow him to the ends of the earth.

And when he stands by Reyna he stands as her equal.

Even telling her he won't take this battle from her and she says don't be ridiculous, this is ours to fight.

Jason is Roman.

He is family.

And family don't leave anyone behind.

He's an enemy of Olympus and yet even some of them smile when they see him.

Hera can't go against her husband but theirs a fondness in his eyes when she lays eyes on him.

Minor deities respect him and he does in turn.

Jason bows before them, drops to his knees and uses their full titles.

Not getting up unless they allow him too.

He shows them respect they have not had for centuries.

He builds shrines and leaves offerings and only asks for safe passage through their domains.

He has won their favour time and time again and he does not exploit that.

At the same time Jason doesn't bow before his father.

He has never tried to get other demigods to join him.

He knows his very existence is a middle finger to his father.

He wears the scars of his defiance, the chains around his wrists and is branded a traitor for all to see.

Jason wouldn't wish that on anyone.

What Luke did joining Kronos infuriated Jason to end.

Athena asks why he didn't join him.

To that Jason snorts saying why would he stand against someone who only wishes to control him.

He doesn't trust the God's, why would he trust a titan?

Especially one who's lost to them.

Jsdon firmly declares that had he found him first he would have gut the son of Hermes like a fish.

Hermes says Luke died a hero and Jason just laughs.

"And that makes a life time of suffering all worth it doesn't it? His mother's sat around baking cookies, wandering when will her son come home but good for him."

"... How do you..."

"... Because that's what my mother was doing, cept the baking cookies was drinking booze."

"I'm sorry I had no idea... How is she?"

"Dead, but she's in the fields... Such a fair and righteous judgement for all the suffering in her life. Maybe we should kill Lukes mother so they can bake cookies in hell together." He says deadpanned, looking at the speechless Hermes in disgust.

"But sure no your serial killer creeper kid dies and I'm supposed to give a shit, sure."

That's not to say Jason doesn't feel sympathy for those who joined Luke.

He prayed on the lost, the weary, the vulnerable and promised them a paradise he was never going to deliver.

And so Jason sends an offering to Nemises in condolences for the loss of her son.

And the rest of the fallen, the unclaimed.

Jason admits Luke had a point in that but following Kronos was nothing short of foolish.

Jason smiles sadly at Percy's wish, he knows it won't come to fruition. He's lived too long, he's become far too jaded yo think otherwise.

But the flicker of hope burns in his eyes momentarily.

#dark jason grace #luke castellan #Jason Grace #heroes of olympus

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talkingparrotkee · 3 months

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(Longer read) It was extremely hard to find character takes without brainworms concerning Wakanda Forever in the thick of silly ship wars or character stanning, I'm not going to hold you. Each side had some level of misses going on. Everybody was too busy making another character a scapegoat or harping on about how good or bad a Shuri ship was. At best, a character seemed to be understood a little bit, but then diagnoses of other characters were woefully one-dimensional or mild mischaracterizations.

So anyway, I want to talk about it and give every character their grace.

Don't mistake me. It's not wrong to connect with one side more than the other. In a video interview, director and writer Ryan Coogler even stated it was written in a way that who you root for could change and depend on the day. He wanted both sides to be sympathetic, but never evil or wrong on all accounts. It was just a case of people trying to do the best they could with what they're dealing with. It was a story about grief and how it affected us. It also came with a layer of bipoc experience and colonialization.

It makes sense for you to follow Shuri and Wakanda as they are the protagonists. It is sensible to empathize with Talokan, too, given what we learned about them.

What drives me bonkers is completely spitting on the narrative, making it into something it never was. (If it doesn't apply let it fly!)

If some fans seemed to understand Namor, more than a comfortable number of times, it turned into oversympathization at the expenses of other characters and his own character development. They try downplaying Namor's canonically rough edges and faults while blaming Nakia or Ramonda.

It appeared that they understood Talokan's points, but suddenly, that same critical thinking or humane sympathy is in sparing doses for Wakanda (their sister nation).

I just think people need to remember that Namor is... Kind of an asshole in any canon. He was literally called that and arrogant by Ryan Coogler, which is what we have seen in Wakanda Forever.

Namor is a multi-faceted character. His motives are upright and just. He's not entirely a "villain." Everything he did in Wakanda Forever had a rhyme and reason. His actions were in response to something (e.g., Wakanda unknowingly jeopardizing Talokan's safety). No, Namor didn't want to hurt Shuri, nor did he view it as him killing her mother. Yes, he genuinely sought out kinship, support, and an alliance with her. Yes, it is true that he holds respect and admiration for Shuri and Wakanda (see Con La Brisa or Namor's first and lines just for three references).

At the same time, he had his missteps. His diplomacy skills (barring his first conversations with Shuri) sucked exponentially! Namor was difficult with Ramonda. He intruded and constantly tried to give orders, make demands, or give Wakanda ultimatum.

These things can co-exist. As Joe Robert Cole said, Namor wasn't wrong for what he felt or his objective. His point of view is comprehensible and valid, but the problem was his approach. Namor even admits how Shuri had every right to kill him to Namora, so yes, he is flawed and had fault.

If some fans seemed to sympathize heavily with Shuri, they oddly villified and outright misconstrue Namor as something "anti-black," an oppressor (pure insanity), or a purely villainous, evil finger twiddling mastermind who sought to manipulate her right from the start.

These are stupid reads that's blatantly non-canon, mind you. Ryan Coogler even debunked that. He stated that he wanted their scenes to read as intimate and legitimate human connection amongst people who mirror.

There is also the fact that, if anything, the only character that was to give the impression to being "fooled" was Namor.

I think people should also realize how Shuri was not at all ok (aka, her flaw). This is another thing Ryan Coogler stressed in an interview. Namor and Shuri were intentionally two sides to the same coin. The pain one had was reflected in the other. Shuri was paralleling Namor in his thirst for retribution and destructive grief, but the difference is that she stopped herself from crossing the point of no return as he did, while offering her hand to pull him back.

"Vengance has consumed us. We cannot let it consume our people." Shuri wouldn't have said that for no reason.

There is an important point behind Shuri and Namor resonating with one another. Attempting to erode the connection they kindled in Talokan or misconstrue either of the two is a disservice to the movie's intricately structured theme.

If some fans loved Okoye and empathize with her struggles, they took shots at Ramonda for snapping. Yes, Okoye is an amazing, sympathetic character and tried her best. Okoye was suffering too, but do not neglect Queen Ramonda's pains.

"I had to lead a wounded nation and a broken world."

This is the same woman who lost her daughter for 5 years in the Blip, lost her son three times with the final being permanent, and lost her husband, who was politically assassinated. Throughout all of this, she had to lead a broken nation through a broken world herself. In Wakanda Forever, Ramonda had to deal with a dangerously grieving Shuri whose whole world was torn apart. She had to stand strong, seeing her daughter come undone while grieving herself.

Okoye stayed loyal to the throne when N'Jadaka (T'Challa's supposed murderer) took it while she and Shuri ran for their lives to the Jabari. Okoye's husband, W'Kabi, was a traitor. Ramonda pushed this all away (likely because she knew Okoye's heart and she understood the situation), allowing Okoye to continue serving at her side as her entrusted general and friend.

Ramonda told Okoye Shuri wasn't ready and told her not to take her on the field. Ramonda stressed her concerns about Namor (an unknown player with vibranium who had unexplainably breeched their boarders, warned them of their military power, and acted with help). Still, Okoye insisted, assuming full responsibility over Shuri.

Yes, Queen Ramonda was acting more like a mother than a queen here, and it wasn't the best decision she could've made (Okoye is their best warrior and was the only one who had fighting experience against Talokanil). However, it shows that she was human. It makes complete sense that the dam broke. She also had a point: Okoye failed in her duty, an insanely important duty that determined the fate of Wakanda.

Shuri isn't just Ramonda's daughter. She's the apparent heir. Shuri is a vital pillar in Wakanda as:

A) the apparent and only heir

B) head of Wakandan technology and design

Shuri is a leader in more ways than one, so her being taken is nothing to take lightly. Shuri even told Namor herself that Wakanda wouldn't rest until she was returned. When she comes back, a lab technician confirms this, stating to Shuri that the city has been stressed and restless in her absence.

All in all, this was a tragic fallout spurred by grief between characters with a mother-daughter dynamic.

Then there's Nakia, who mostly gets blamed for everything when she was roped in with her hands constantly forced. Even in canon, she was mistreated with Shuri ostracizing her. I'll probably write a dissection on her because it's just so crazy to me, but to give a rundown:

☆ Nakia lost "her everything" thrice. She had to be a single mother to Toussaint (who she also had to keep secret).

☆ Nakia's lack of presence at T'Challa's funeral in Wakanda was misunderstood for "running away," when she was told by T'Challa not to attend in fear of exposing their child. This led to characters pressing or misjudging her for it. Shuri had snip remarks towards her and even ignored her calls, yet Nakia remained patient and her side.

☆ The grandmother of her child pulled up to her workplace and home in Haiti, practically pleading with her to save Shuri (the love of her life's beloved sister). Queen Ramonda came to her, urging her to come out of retirement as wardog to rescue Shuri from those who held her. Neither Ramonda nor Nakia knew that Shuri requested to be taken to Namor. There was no rapport formed between them and Namor (quite the opposite). They do not know Namor or how he treats Shuri. We, as the audience, have dramatic irony. The characters do not!

☆ Nakia acted under the order of Ramonda to retrieve Shuri by any means. Even then, she did not shoot immediately. She told the guard to drop her weapon, then shot her only because she attempted to kill Shuri.

When the young handmaiden shakily held Shuri with a fruit knife near her neck, Nakia warned her with two lines, one being a command to let Shuri go. It is understandable that the young maiden froze up in fear, but time was running out. Nakia wasn't going to roll the dice on Shuri's life either. Namor would've done the same (or probably would've killed them on the dot to save his people).

While it is true Nakia killing those two Talokanil in part led to Namor's attack on Wakanda's Golden City...

1. Wakanda and Talokan still would've had inevitable conflict.

2. Her hand was pushed.

I've seen people blame or hate on Riri Williams, too, simultaneously getting and missing the point. Yes, Namor had a reason to kill Riri. He was acting as a king and didn't want his people to suffer the same traumas that caused them to move again. T'Chaka would've done the same thing.

However, even in Namor's own words, it wasn't "about the scientist." In the original script, he furthers he would've killed a thousand scientists if it meant ensuring Talokan's safety. Unfortunately, Riri was the scientist who made the machine (that she honestly had no business creating, even if she didn't know of Talokan). They wanted to throw a wrench in the cogs by depriving them of the machine and the scientist who created it. That way, they can't possibly replicate it.

To Namor, it was "Nothing personal, kid." Not even he fixed the blame on Riri personally. He just emphasized the problematic nature of the vibranium detector and what it opened them to, what it has begun. It's like the ethical delimma question of rerouting the train: Would you save the worker working absentmindedly on the train tracks or the group of people on the other side?

Coming from his perspective, you can understand him to a degree. Shuri did, but still was firm in advocating for sparing Riri. The moment she heard and saw that Riri was a student, she couldn't just fork her over to be killed for something not truly her fault. On her brother and for her brother's legacy, she refused to kill Riri. The choice to protect Riri reflected Wakanda's overall development post-BP1. It also illustrates Wakanda's optimism (afforded by their history and position), which isn't shared by Talokan. Talokan has more pessimism (due to their history of displacement, massacre by colonial disease, and vulnerabilities).

However, Riri also shows how Namor could be wrong.

Riri is a young black girl living in a constant state of disadvantage, trying to prove herself.

“To be young, gifted, and Black though, right?”

She mirrors Namor ironically. She suffered and experienced byproducts of colonialism as an African American. Riri, who is a teenager beginning college (do you expect the pinnacle of maturity and foresight from a 19-year-old?), was just caught in crossfire. Her work was meant for a rock project her professor, for some reason, didn't responsibly dissaude her from doing (but challenged her to). The FBI stolen and weaponized it, then dared to send armed forces to seize her in order to have her make it again. They even attempted to use Riri as a guise to destabilize Wakanda, pretending to care about her safety and abduction.

Additionally, even by Namor's own words, the surface world coming for them was only a matter of time. With or without Riri. Killing her would just be pushing back the dates, but it wouldn't have solved the problem. Beyond the moral dilemma of killing a kid, it actually would've created new problems.

1. A sovereign body intruded on American soil. 2. Said sovereign body and representative of another nation took a citizen. Not only that, a teenaged citizen that poses no harm who has also created the first vibranium detector (which they wanted and are looking for themselves). 3. Assuming Wakanda obliged, Riri would've been killed and never returned. Her mother would throw a fit, and it gives them so much political ammunition and guises to destablize Wakanda.

And what can Wakanda do? They are sworn to secrecy that Talokan exists. So they'll just be taking the hits just like they almost took the hits for sinking that ship when it was Talokan. If Wakanda falls and gets plundered, Talokan is not far behind.

None of these characters are "the real villains." Each of them have nuance, goodness, sympathies, and complexities. Every single one captures the complexity of humanity.

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lya-dustin · 9 months

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All is Bliss

Chapter 28

cw: attempted murder(possibly really just regular murder), depression, suicide, suicidal thoughts, Aegon’s post Rook’s Rest injuries, mentions of past sexual assault, implied ritual sacrifice, infanticide

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @watercolorskyy @ewanmitchellcrumbs @aemondx @sweethoneyblossom1

Gif by @barbieist

No one save for the maesters, the queen mother and the lord hand are allowed to see him.

Aemond is kept out of there because they doubt his loyalties, Aemma is too unwell, and there have been instances where a servant or two has tried to off him.

“In the case of King Aegon perishing from his injuries, what would be the course of action?” Wylde asks the question the rest fear asking in front of his mother.

“I will wed his widow, open talks with the rebels and share the regency with lords of their choosing as well as with the boy’s mother until he is of age.

Should the boy die with no issue or his mother suffer a miscarriage, the succession will be secured as I am next in line and unlike my brother, have no issue stopping me from impregnating my future wife.” His words are met with a scoff from his lady mother.

“I raised no son, I see, I raised a vulture.” She comments and he tries his best not to roll his eye at her.

She always took his side, when he bullied him, she’d allow it so long as it happened behind closed doors.

He loves his mother, but her love always felt conditional.

Like she might stop loving him if he ever rose against his brother.

“Men with such injuries often perish or take their own lives, your grace, it would not hurt to be prepared.” Tyland Lannister says in his defense. “Prince Aemond must be prepared to secure the succession without giving time for the rebels to install Queen Aemma.”

“Princess Aemma, she was never crowned as his consort.” His grandsire corrects, but refuses to speak more than that.

His reputation and ego suffered quite the blow when he was dismissed and his replacement won them the battle.

“Had she been crowned as it was her due, perhaps this would have been avoided. Most believe she rebelled because she was ignored and the king’s whore paraded about in her place.” Grand Maester adds, in defense of Aemma and perhaps because he was known to harbor sympathies with the Blacks.

He and Beesbury had been opposed to the usurpation, only Beesbury was not so important as to be kept alive.

“She rebelled because we killed my half-sister by crowning Aegon on top of the humiliations my beloved elder brother had already heaped on her.

Even if we could crown her, it would not fix anything. Her supporters know her claim is greater than all of ours combined.” Aemond shook his head.

“The babe killed your sister, your sister who is the reason you have no eye and had no justice from your father that night.” His mother reminds him.

It was her bastard son who did it, he’d like to correct.

Bastards she protected the way I now protect mine.

Now that he is to be a father, he came to understand why Rhaenyra said and did what she did.

Because he would do the same.

“The babe was covered in dragon scales, with no heart and filled with maggots. If I remember my history correctly, Tyanna of the Tower poisoned Maegor’s wives so all the babes would be born like that.

Prince Daemon claims it was the work of a witch, and I am inclined to believe him.” Aemond hates the turn this has taken, but he needs them to find who hired Alys to kill Rhaenyra.

He suspects his mother.

Her sudden closeness to the witch that called him the One-Eyed King once made him suspect her of Rhaenyra’s murder.

While he hated his sister, he loves Aemma and he would imprison his own mother to keep her and the babe from dying.

What is your mother to your own son, after all?

“Everyone knows Maegor was cursed for kinslaying.” Cole says in defense of the queen.

Knowing damn well the only two people here who could have hired the witch was her half-brother and the queen she now serves.

But Cole thinks mother a goddess like the Seven Who Are One, the Mother and the Maiden rolled up in one.

A woman who can never do wrong.

A woman who could never kill another even for a what she believes may have been an honorable reason.

“Lady Laena died the same way, the babe was malformed and described the same as its half-sister, the Triarchy boasted of having hired a shadowbinder from Asshai to kill her and weaken him.

As Lord of Harrenhal and head of House Strong, I would hand over our prime suspect to the Faith and prevent such misfortune falling upon King Aegon’s only heir.” Larys finally speaks up, hardly speaks unless it is of great importance or offer a sordid deal.

It shouldn’t surprise him, House Strong had been whittled down to Larys, his elder sisters, Ida and Ada, and the cause of their family’s extinction and the burning of their seat: Alys Rivers.

“No, you cannot. Alys merely miscarried the babe the night the king died. Prince Daemon still has many enemies, any of them could’ve done it.” His mother dismissed it as madness and sought to change the topic.

But she has never been subtle even when not backed into a corner, and now they have the confirmation they needed for it.

She hired Alys to kill Rhaenyra and make Aegon king.

Alicent the Pious loved her children more than the gods themselves, she would do anything to save them.

No one could fault her, she was a mother after all, her council especially, she was a mother after all and gave them the power they so desperately wanted.

But his mother was becoming a liability.

She may be the reason her cause had something to rally behind, but her job was done when Aegon was made king.

It won’t be long before they turn against her and use Alys to kill two birds with one stone.

The state her beloved son is in breaks her heart every time she sees him.

Aegon woke up towards the end of the second week and cursed foully when shown his new reality.

The left side of his body burnt beyond recognition, steel of his armor still in whatever skin is left on his arm, his ribs and hip broken and left leg injured beyond repair. It was a gruesome sight.

“Let me die, gods-damn it.” He shouts at the maesters and her who denies him that mercy.

It is clear what she must do.

Aegon cannot live like this, her golden son cannot be this for the rest of his life.

For days she ponders whether it is worth whatever is left of her soul.

She asks the Mother for guidance, for strength to turn away from this, but the Mother does not respond.

The Crone does, silently telling her it is the only way.

“What must I pay to save him?” she asks her witch one morning while they watch little Ellyn Waters pray for her father in the Sept.

“I think you already know the price, your grace.” The witch answers and gestured to the nearly three-year-old girl at the feet of the Mother.

Ellyn Eversweet, called like her famed namesake and for the sweet smiles that look so much like the ones Aegon used to have when he was her sweet little boy.

Silvery golden waves like her and blue eyes so innocent it feels like a knife to her ever-blackening heart.

Any mother would do the same if they had the opportunity, the queen begins to tell herself as she asks her lover and curse for a solution to her son’s problems.

“She is a child!” she whispered in outrage at her own thoughts.

“His child, he gave her life and now she must give her his. It is the only way to save him.” The witch said as she lit a candle at the foot of her patron goddess.

“Do you think I would not have given my life for mine and my brother when you ordered them killed?”

“There has to be another way.” The queen tells herself and rejects her solution.

When she sees the chambermaid suffocate him with a pillow, Alicent knows she has no choice but to kill the child to save hers.

“She’s only a bastard,” she tells herself when she carries the sleeping girl and places her beside her dying father.

Aemma is better than she has been in this past fortnight.

She comes alive as her mind replayed those moments when Aegon stopped thrashing under the pillow as she and Enola the Chambermaid held it over his face.

He was dying, the guards had been alerted by Alicent’s presence in the other room and for her safety, Aemma was told to run.

It had come too easy and before the guilt over her first murder set in her bones, Aemma takes advantage of this sudden spark that ignites the fire in her blood.

Aemond is utterly oblivious as to what spurred this on.

He could never know.

He must never know.

She cannot take out this feeling on an opponent, but there is another way. Aemond was always hard as oak after a spar or an execution.

She needs him badly, so bad she cannot wait until dawn for this.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks but does nothing to stop her. He does not mind being woken up this way, enjoys it or so he’s told her after.

“I couldn’t sleep, wanted to go for a walk, but then I remembered we never got to finish what we started that afternoon, would the prince regent like to finish what he started?” she lies with a sultry voice and a cunny wet enough to sell the lie.

Aemma has not been intimate with him since the Cargyll twins killed themselves. It has been little more than a fortnight since that afternoon and so much had happened.

It had taken a week to leave Dragonstone under capable hands, keep Aegon stable enough to return home and have the dead dragons prepared for travel. Four days and three nights because the wind and current disagreed with them and nine days and nine nights to devise a plan and execute it.

Her courage had nearly failed her, until she saw a chambermaid hiding a knife with the same objective as her.

He raped Dyana, she whispered and the queen nodded in understanding.

There was no going back after that.

In the end, Enola the chambermaid, took her knife, slit her own throat open and the truth died with her.

“We did not.” He gives her a groggy smile before helping sit on his gloriously made face.

Between the pleasure and the thrill of her first and final kill, Aemma feels the clouds leave and the sun shine again.

It all comes crashing down the next morning.

“The king is awake.”

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #aemond x rhaenyra and laenor's! daughter #aemond targayen x oc #ewan mitchell #alicent hightower #alys rivers/alicent hightower #ocappreciationtag #all is bliss(in the court of aemma the great) fic #all is bliss fic

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bengiyo · 6 months

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Theory of Love Rewatch Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

Last time, I realized I had memory holed much of this show and ended up enraged anew at Khai for toying with Third's feelings. ToL Lovers, y'all will need to wait and see because I hate that man so much right now because I went through the same shit as Third. Un and Two had some interactions about Two's crush on Lynn. Bone got stood up by his crush. We left at Third overhearing Khai and Bone discuss their testing of Third.

I hope Third moves out. Yelling at Khai, "You played with my emotions. If you don't know any better just leave me the fuck alone," is the closest he's come to admitting how he feels.

Ep.05 10 Things I Hate About You

Time for an ad, but first a masturbation joke!

Bone skipped editing class repeatedly? I must resist making the obvious joke about GMMTV shows.

Yes, Third, please move out! Interrupt all this talk about boobs! Nothing excites me more than a pair of large, heavy breasts.

Khai saying he'd be nicer to Third if he asked because he doesn't want to lose him is a Boy Lie. When you tell them to stop, they double down and get meaner and say you're too sensitive.

"Everything will be the same" is a classic romcom lie.

It was smart of this show to give Third a confidant within the friend group so that we resist wanting him to completely cut off the whole group.

I could not follow Third's reviews. All this sobbing would drive me up the wall.

Don't give up on your list, Third. Khai sucks in more than 10 ways!

Bone is putting all this effort into locating this film or testing his friend when he should be going to class! Hitting on girls? You should be hitting on books!

They got poor White and Mike sweating their asses off on this broken friend group scene.

GMMTV gets a lot of traction out of Earth staring way too hard at people.

Oh lord they went to a 4DX theater with moving seats.

At least Bone has enough grace to apologize to Third for what they did to him.

I'm with Third's anger. Sometimes you gotta find a way to hate your unrequited crush to move on. I know folks probably felt some kinda way about Third talking about Khai "whoring around" but I also dealt with the annoyance of a friend's romantic wake. It's tedious.

This writing team really understood bros. Your boys will deck you if you go too far and violate the group.

Oh lord, Third, can you please stop showering with all your goddamn clothes on when you're upset?

Third is so embarrassing. Khai did not apologize for the fundamental betrayal, and you're pretending to be okay because of a lower level fight? Come on, my dude.

Ah, right, this is when we get the teacher confirmation and I started to check out on this Bone thread.

Well, I'm not having the visceral reaction I had last time, thankfully. I don't think the show effectively closed the loop on the list of things Third hates about Khai for me this episode, and I think they muddled things about Third's jealousy with Khai's flings. I like that Bone now knows what's going on, and it's a bit reminiscent of Coffee Prince in that everyone around Khai now knows but Khai doesn't. However, I will not be feeling sympathy for that man any time soon. He yelled at Third for not answering his phone and being out all night when he shoved that man out of the house until after dawn for a girl. I ain't forget.

As always this rewatch was sponsored by @lurkingshan, with emotional support from @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm. Tagging @twig-tea because I know they're invested in my rewatch.

#theory of love #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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frightnightindustries · 8 months

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Waterfall (Tribe of Rushing Water)

This was tough. I'm sure you know the problems with the Tribe, if you don't, look it up. It's easy to find. For the rewrite, I'm using Waterfall to show a contrast, to say "Actually, RELIGION SOMETIMES GOOD"

I like one word names, and so I went with Waterfall for the rewrite name.

Waterfall stays around the same area, and was started after cats began to help each other. Sympathy for the old, the weak, and the young bound together the early members of Waterfall. An old cat born without a leg would teach a younger cat with the same disability how to climb the fastest, while two other cats watched the sky for danger. Abandoned kits would now have somebody to cling too at night, instead of sobbing alone and scared.

In Waterfall, you catch prey for yourself, then turn to the others, devoting your free time to helping the ones who need it. It's held together by common decency.

And then, the Endless Walkers (Tribe of Endless Hunting) appeared in dreams, in their own mountain afterlife (related to Limbo but I need to flesh that out). They appeared to Tech, Bunchy, and Hemlock, three former kittypets who joined Waterfall, and guided them along the way to properly form Waterfall into a society. The kittypets, along with a few other cats, formed a council for Waterfall, making decisions and basically doing cat democracy.

Unlike StarClan, the Endless Walkers are straightforward, telling cats what they need to do for the best outcome. They will not let their descendants suffer needlessly in anxiety and stress.

The queens name their kits in similar ways to the canonical Tribe, but it's one worded names, and it's after the first thing they think of. For example, if Brook looks into the eyes of her kits and thinks of a leaping wildfire, she may name them something along those lines, such as Wildfire, Grace, or Danger.

Speaking of Brook, I'm going to give her, Stormfur, and Feathertail their own separate posts, but Feathertail dies in a similar way, the traveling cats stay a little longer at Waterfall then in the canon tribe, resulting in Brook expecting Stormfur's kits, portrayed similar to an accidental pregnancy between two eighteen year olds, and not as a sort of 'white dude falls in love with native girl' thing.

By the time they're about to leave, Brook is all that Stormfur has left. Silverstream is dead, Feathertail is dead, Stonefur is dead, Crookedstar is dead, and for all he knew Greystripe is dead as well. Add that to kits, and somebody he actually loves and somebody who actually loves him, and it's not surprising he chose to stay. Waterfall is great at supporting parents, and even if he didn't want to raise the kits, plenty of cats would take them in there. Stormfur also had fears of history repeating itself, and his kits being considered 'half-clan', so add trauma too.

Waterfall and the clans help each other, for the often complained about "tribe gets borders' storyline, it's really just Waterfall wanting better battle tactics to get some rouges to stop attacking their cats, and in return they introduce psychology to the medicine cats, with coping skills, herbs, and diagnoses to help out a cat with something like ADHD, anxiety, autism, or depression, etc. And that's very helpful for both sides, as Waterfall needs the fighting skills, and life is made extremely better for the clans.

#warrior cats #warrior cats au #warrior cats rewrite #firemask #firemask au #firemask rewrite #waterfall #tribe of rushing water #stormfur

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elsanna-shenanigans · 6 months

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November/October 2023 Contest Submission #7: Golden Hour

Words: 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: mentions of homophobia

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Anna Ehrundel turns towards the sound of a familiar voice. She came out here to be alone, but Elsa’s presence is always more than welcome. “Well we’re at a lake house. Judging by the name, there’s only two other places I could be.”

Elsa rolls her eyes, a smile gracing her lips- as beautiful as always. She sits at the edge of the dock next to Anna. But instead of holding her legs like her younger cousin, she lets her feet dangle above the water. The evening sun rests on the horizon, adding a dark splash of orange to the faint purple of the lake. Elsa closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “I’m going to miss this view so much.”

“Me too. It’s so much better than the suburbs,” Anna adds.

Elsa hums in sympathy. She doesn’t say anything else, content with letting the tranquil moment speak for itself.

But tranquility is the last thing on the escapee’s mind. “Is everyone still arguing?”

Elsa lets out a heavy sigh and looks back at the lake house. “Not anymore. Some people are still talking about it in the backyard, but for the most part, everyone’s just inside sitting and trying not to look at each other. I mean, Aunt Bulda is crying, but–”

“She’s always crying,” they both say at the same time.

Despite her heart still lying in the pit of her chest, Anna laughs, and so does Elsa. Though they only see each other a couple of times a year, the two cousins always manage to make the most of their time together. Anna will always be grateful for the day her Aunt Gerda remarried and she met the blonde with the big, blue eyes for the first time.

Twelve years later, the two of them are as close as sisters, which is a bitter source of conflict for Anna. On the one hand, being an only child has made her appreciate how much Elsa is there for her. On the other hand, it makes certain feelings of hers very complicated.

“I can’t believe they’re still making a big deal out of this.” Elsa plants her hands behind her, steadying her body as she leans back. “It’s been, what, a year?”

When Elsa shifts her body, her shirt rides up to show off her waist. Anna’s wandering eyes land on her pale skin and her face heats up as much as the sun’s surface. She shakes her head and tries to stay on topic. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come to the reunion.”

Elsa looks at her and frowns. “What? This is not your fault. Besides, if you decided not to come, I wouldn’t have shown up either.”

Anna pushes her knees closer to her chest, the wooden planks let out a low croak. She appreciates Elsa’s words of support, but they’re not enough. “I…all I needed to do was shut up and not say anything for two days. But I didn’t; now things are awkward and the weekend is ruined.”

“No. If anyone made things awkward, it’s…” Elsa growls like a dog when you get too close to its bone. “It’s those fucking bigots: Uncle Duke, Aunt Eleanor, Grandpa Runeard, and that douchebag Hans. I wish we could burn the bridge with that side of the family.” When Anna’s lips twist into an amused grin, she asks, “What is it?”

“You swore,” Anna mumbles.

Elsa gives her a playful shove, almost knocking Anna out of her awkward position. “Whatever. Don’t tell my dad.”

“Never. I’m a devout follower of the ‘snitches get stitches’ rule, that’s why my hair is so big.”

“Because it’s so full of secrets?” Elsa snickers and runs her hands innocently through Anna’s hair. “It’s not even that big, you stinker.”

Anna shivers, pretending that it’s from the cold. She shifts her posture so that one foot is still pressed on the dock, and the other is hovering above the lake with Elsa’s. Mirrored poses, and between them is something thicker than glass that keeps Anna at bay.

She wishes it could be like this all the time: the two of them away from the rest of the world, watching the sunset, their knees touching. Even if there’s no way her cousin has the same twisted feelings she has, as long as they can stay together like this, it’s more than enough.

When the crown of the sun is the only thing visible across the water, Elsa breaks the silence. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Anna replies warmly.

Elsa sits up, readjusting her shirt and scooting close enough to see the growing redness on Anna’s cheeks. “I know I’ve said this a hundred times already, but I’m really proud of you for doing what you did.”

One year ago, Anna publicly came out on Instagram. For the most part, she was met with a mass wave of support. But there was one person who knew she was gay long before the announcement. She’s had the privilege of Elsa rooting for her for the past three years, and even now her heart flutters when Elsa says she’s proud of her. Though, that’s probably not the only reason.

“Would you still be proud if the family gets torn apart because of me?”

“Anna, you are the bravest, strongest, most wonderful person that I know. You’re the only person in this weird, messed-up family that I need.”

“What about your parents? Or Grand Pabbie? Shouldn’t Christian at least get the chance to know his Aunt Elsa?”

And suddenly, Elsa’s putting a hand on her shoulder, looking at her with an intensity she’s only seen aimed at the fucking bigots. Suddenly, she’s saying the words Anna’s only heard in shameful dreams: “You are the only one I need.”

The warmth in Anna’s face turns into an intense heat. And the longer she stares into the deep, inviting blue of her cousin’s gaze, the more she burns. She looks down at the water but finds that that’s not enough, so she makes the regretful decision of scooting away, arms guiltily wrapping around her stomach.

It doesn’t look like Elsa’s disappointed when she moves away. In fact, she’s now crossed her legs and has gone quiet– taking in the last rays of sun before the night falls on them once again.

When she was in sixth grade, Anna learned about this thing called the “golden hour”. It’s the time of day when the sunlight isn’t so blinding, and the world basks in deep shades of orange and a yellow so rich it may as well be gold. Ever since then, the golden hour has been her favorite time of day. And what makes today’s hour more special is the company she’s with.

The soft silence and calming colors lull Anna into a false sense of security. Her breathing stills, her troubles fade, and she’s so captivated by the angel at her side that the words just slip out: “Could I say something…really crazy?”

Elsa’s eyes flutter open, and she says without too much thought, “Sure.”

Reality hits Anna like the wind shaking the trees. She shakes her head, pathetically trying to turn back time. “… never mind. Just forget I asked.”

Elsa lets out an unbelieving laugh. “Uh, excuse me? Since when have you been afraid of speaking your mind? When you were twelve, you were the only one who had the guts to tell Aunt Gerda that she couldn’t pull off a perm.”

“That’s different!” Anna digs her fingers into her sides, trying to get herself to shut up. It doesn’t work. “This is something stupid, it doesn’t matter.”

“It sounds like it matters to you.” Elsa uses her hands to push herself up so she can get even closer. Her knee is on top of her cousin’s; Elsa might as well be sitting on her lap. “Come on, Anna, you can tell me anything.”

“Elsa, stop.” The burning red on her cheeks has nowhere to hide during this now cursed hour. She shakes her head again, and her next words come out in a pathetic abomination of a whisper and mumble. “Please. I can’t…I can’t tell you this.”

Whatever moment they may have been having, whatever peace that could have actually soothed her battered heart, is nothing more than a memory now. Anna closes her eyes, begging to wake up from this long nightmare. If mercy exists, she’ll wake up and be back in her room before they ever made this wretched trip to the lake house. She feels movement, a loss of warmth, and then hears footsteps. It’s Elsa walking away– an outcome that Anna both expected and dreaded.

The footsteps stop after a second, which is no surprise since Elsa’s always been a quiet walker. What is a surprise, however, is when Anna feels something get tossed across her shoulder. It’s soft, like cotton. She opens her eyes to see that it’s Elsa’s t-shirt.

“You know what? I feel like swimming.”

She turns around just in time to see her older cousin pulling off the last of her socks, now in nothing more than a modest, gray set of bra and panties. “Wait, what?”

“Watch your hands!” Elsa is a blur of movement as she jumps off the edge of the dock, yelps while tucking her knees into her chest, and disappears into the lake with a splash. Anna covers her face with her arm, but droplets still end up staining her shirt and shorts. When Elsa doesn’t resurface immediately, panic overtakes Anna and she sits up on her knees to look into the rippling water.

Then, from farther than expected, Elsa resurfaces. Her damp hair clings to her neck and around her shoulders, and she emerges with a relieved smile. “Woo! This feels amazing, Anna, join me,” she exclaims.

Anna shakes her head and stands up. She decided against getting in the water before Elsa arrived. “It’s getting dark, and I’m not even wearing a bathing suit.”

Elsa shrugs, “Neither am I.”

She takes a step back. “Yeah, but…”

“But?”

“I’m not like you, Elsa.”

Elsa grins, “You’re right. You’re so much cooler and smarter and braver than I could ever be. And I think you need to be reminded of that.” She traces the water with her finger as if preparing a spot for her cousin to land. “So get in the water, please? Don’t prove me wrong.”

Gosh, even if she wasn’t infatuated with her, Anna would jump off a cliff if Elsa asked her to. She takes in the last seconds of the golden hour that she’ll get to appreciate dry. And as a cold breeze both keeps her away and beckons her to go, Anna takes off her own clothes and jumps into the lake.

Anna tucks her knees in and hears a quick woosh before she’s engulfed by the water. It clings to her entire body like a slick suit, giving her the illusion of free movement while leaving nothing to the imagination. The rich yellow of the outside world disappears into a midnight shade of purple, with an inky blackness underneath her. Low, hollow pops are all she hears as air bubbles try desperately to fight off their eternal fate.

The surface is so close and yet feels so far. She’s reminded of the summer when she was seven years old and took swimming lessons with her mom. The rec center was so loud, the pool always smelled a little too acidic, and her swimming suit was itchy. But she suffered through all of that for the “free swim” period: the time before and after lessons when she could do whatever she wanted in the pool without supervision.

Anna would always dive straight to the bottom and look up at the surface, pretending she was a mermaid ascending from the depths of Atlantis and finally getting her wish to be on land. Just a few more kicks and she would emerge, completely and utterly free, taking in the first big breath of her new life.

She finds herself doing the same thing now, kicking her legs and pushing her hands up and out to see the sun again. But this time, when she emerges, the breath she takes isn’t from relief, it’s from shock.

“Cold! It-It’s cold! Why didn’t you tell me the water was cold?!”

Elsa laughs, “Aww come on, it’s not that bad.”

“You said it would feel ‘amazing’!”

“And doesn’t it?”

“No!”

The idle waters left to the late summer elements make the river much chillier than some cheap, rec center pool. And the breeze– which seemed to be getting stronger as the night approached– added to the coolness. Still reeling from the shock to her system, and to show her appreciation for being talked into this, Anna pushes a small wave of water towards Elsa’s way.

Elsa isn’t quick enough to guard herself either. “Hey, don’t splash me!” She wipes her face before retaliating with a small splash of her own.

And so it begins. Anna responds with a two-handed splash, so Elsa has to do the same, and soon their retaliations get bigger and stronger. What’s supposed to be a relaxing swim in the river turns into an all-out water fight. At first it’s just splashing, but then it devolves into kicking and tickling, and then they’re pulling themselves back onto the dock to try and dive onto the other person.

And through it all, Anna laughs. She laughs like she’s never laughed before, she laughs like it’s the first emotion she’s ever felt, she laughs like nothing matters. Because, as she’s starting to understand, nothing does matter. Nothing but this: her and Elsa, a never-ending lake, and the last rays of daylight painting the tips of the trees.

Time passes. When the golden hour is over, they find themselves underneath the dock, floating idly while Elsa’s arms lie on Anna’s shoulders. Anna rests her head against her cousin’s cheek. “I think I needed this,” she says, “Thank you.”

Elsa chuckles, it’s a deep and gorgeous sound that rings in her ear, “I should be the one thanking you.”

Anna turns around, thinking that Elsa will release her grip, but she doesn’t. She keeps her arms on her shoulders, absently drawing the younger one closer. “Wh–What for?”

If she was with anyone else, Anna would give in and close the gap, savor the moment as their lips pressed against each other, and she would smile from the bliss that washes over her. But she’s not with anyone else, she’s with Elsa.

Elsa, whose forearms are tantalizingly close to her neck, and whose thumbs just brushed against the curve of her spine. Elsa, the only person she can’t have.

Elsa, who is wiping a damp strand of hair away from Anna’s face, and softly answering: “For giving me hope.”

“Elsa…” Her eyes glance at the lips of her hushed companion; it would be so easy. But panic overtakes Anna and she squeezes Elsa’s forearms. “We should, uh, probably get back.”

“Do it.”

“D-Do it?”

In the cover of the growing darkness, Anna feels it before she can see it: Elsa pressing her forehead against hers. It could just be a quick gesture of affection, but then Elsa’s repeating her words in an almost eager-sounding whisper.

This could be a dream, or maybe Anna somehow died the second she dove into the lake. Wherever she is right now, she decides, doesn’t matter all that much. Not when she’s brushing her nose against the tip of her giggling companion, and tilting her head as she brings herself ever closer until finally it happens.

Her lips are soft and thin, a little wet from the lake but that deters nothing. Anna shivers, but she knows it’s not from the cold, Elsa moves her arms to bring them closer and to rest her fingers along the back of her younger cousin’s head. It’s comfort, it’s safety, it’s belonging.

When Anna ends the kiss, it’s only because she forgets where she is and almost starts sinking into the lake. Elsa is quick to catch her, and they laugh before embracing each other.

“I had this feeling…and I think I was right?“ Elsa asks.

Anna nods into the crook of her neck, but she knows this moment of bliss will be just that: a moment. Everything that happens after this will be messy, terrifying, and not at all the fairytale ending she’s hoping for it to be.

And as if she’s read her mind, Elsa continues, “We don’t need to figure everything out right now, I just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.”

Curiosity gets the better of her. "How long…?”

“Long enough,” Elsa responds. She loosens the hug, placing one hand on Anna’s shoulder while the other caresses her cheek. “You?”

Anna bites her lip, “Probably longer.”

“Aww, that’s so cute.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Elsa gasps, placing a hand on the top of her chest. “You swore!”

“That’s not– ugh.” Anna rolls her eyes. “Of all the people…”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Elsa looks down at the water and frowns, saying the words they’re both dreading. “We should probably get out of here so we can dry up.”

Regrettably, Anna replies, “Yeah, we should.”

“Ick, I don’t think I can use this underwear ever again.”

Anna raises her eyebrow, “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours obviously,” Elsa replies with a grin.

“Obviously,” Anna repeats.

“But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

Anna knows what she wants to say, but she still takes a second to think. Here, underneath the dock where the moon’s yet to reach, is everything she could ever want. All that awaits them on the shore is a thick fog of uncertainty and a million doubts and insecurities scattered under their feet. And that should terrify her, but when Elsa squeezes her hand it reminds her of why it shouldn’t.

“Of course I don’t,” she replies. “I have you.”

#elsanna #October 2023 contest #prompt: water #submission #cw: homophobia

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forbidding-souda · 2 years

Note

Oh that’s amazing!

Can you do Byakuya Togami x Reader with Neurofibromatosis Type 1! Thank you again!

Byakuya Togami with a S/O with Neurofibromatosis Type 1 headcanons

wakka wakka woo I have got <3 you

I'm watching tiktoks on it rn

damn i wish I posted this in may tho that's nf awareness month isn't it god dmanit

currently watching: ASMR MOST POPULAR FOOD ON MY CHANNEL *Honeycomb Aloe Vera Seagrapes Octopus | NO TALKING | SAS-ASMR

-Mod Souda

❤ The tumors that are visible through your skin are things he doesn't consider anything shameful. He doesn't consider it anything unattractive, and he will skim over them if you'd rather him not mention them at all. He also finds no means of hiding them when the two of you present in public. If they are prominent on your face, and if it's something you're insecure about or something you don't want to be there, he will pay for the best doctor from around the world to help you (but it'll come in the form of him saying a snarky "do you want something done about that?" with a scowl). But if you don't complain about them and don't want the simple ones gone then he won't force you to do anything, it's your body and your disorder. He is not a doctor and he is not going to try and be one.

"It's like constellations," he points out abruptly, not trying to be romantic as he looks at medical photos your skin. You're surprised he could even utter a word with such affectionate undertones. "Yeah- okay." You pull the phone away from him. He looks at you from above his glasses as he tries to figure out what to say next. A million of rude things pass over his brain but it takes him a second to think of what a normal boyfriend would say. "It's a good thing. I think you look..." he takes a second to think of a sentimental word that conveys what he is alluding to, "...lovely." He says things like that a little more often than he did before. He has started saying "you can be a model" which you took as some exaggerated compliment until you realized he was genuinely offering.

❤ He would show the most graceful financial support as any single doctor's appointment or treatment you do is practically completely free, but that much is an obvious thing.

❤ If you get down after body-monitoring appointments or the scans then he is gonna get catered whatever food you desire in the moment, and it's gonna be so bomb. He likes gifting you in foods that'll keep your immune system rocking. He doesn't know mu[anything]ch about health, but he knows the immune system is something important, so that's what he is going with.

❤ He does take into consideration the fact that it might be passed down to kids, since his goal is to have the Togami empire expand. I think it matters on how confident you are in yourself and your disorder. If you exhibit the ability to have a life that's without fear and worry then he will realize that his child could also have the same mindset. The lack of moppiness is something that'll pursway him more than anything you can say, actions speak louder than words.

❤ The one thing he knows a lot about is café au lait spots and that's just because he likes the name.

❤ I don't think he would even tell you he's doing this but he 100% is giving to organizations and causes to help people with nf or similar birth disorders. He's gaining a sense of sympathy, which is a big deal, not because he usually doesn't, but because the usual 'sympathy' he feels is often a form of pity.

❤ He is determined not to 'fix' you but to instead make your life a bit more calm.

❤ Bro if you're nervous about something hospital related he can get you an emotional support animal that is literally any type of animal you want.

#byakuya togami imagines #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya togami #x reader #danganronpa #neurofibromatosis #neurofibromatosis type 1 #nf1

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pitchannawarmsourblackhearts · 2 years

Note

If you are still taking OTP questions: 💟🎵 please?

Sorry this is late, anon!

💟 What do you think makes them perfect for one another?

Oh, soooo much. It's hard to narrow it down, but I will say I think Anna's fearless nature and her huge wealth of love for others makes HER perfect for PITCH. He craves understanding and sympathy, and will never have it as long as people are either afraid of him or repulsed by his nature. Anna would not be afraid of him (not in the long run anyway) and she's not above loving people who seem to be unlovable.

For Anna, she needs to know she's not alone in the world. Elsa ignoring her cut deeply but I think her parents' sudden death really shook Anna hard, and left her emotionally scarred. (I seriously side-eye people who judge her for Hans, instead of blaming the manipulator for exploiting an emotionally traumatized girl's feelings and need for love.) She feels she has no support system. Pitch, for his part, would SEE her. He would understand her almost from the get-go. His gift of knowing fears would help understand what Anna needs, but more than that, he's highly observant and would notice the things about her that nobody else does- that obviously, this girl craves affection and loyalty. And as much as Pitch would hate to admit it, he has a lot of intense emotions himself. He clearly feels passionately about some things, and feels betrayed when the olive branch he extends to Jack is dashed to pieces. Anna never gives up on anyone, and that would touch Pitch, and make him realize she deserves the same.

🎵 What's a song (or songs) that remind you of your OTP?

Dude. I've been working on multiple playlists for them for years. I LOVE songs for Pitchanna. 💗

Anna- "American Girl" by Tom Petty, "Soft to be Strong" by Marina, "Beautiful Ghosts" from Cats, "There She Goes" by Sixpence None the Richer, "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles, "Perfect Day" by Hoku.

Pitch- I don't have a defining song for him, but I associate him with "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult (the song is just about not being afraid of death but I see it as Anna letting go of any fear she has of him, and accepting his force of nature as her lover), "Animal I Have Become by Three Days' Grace, "Monster" and "Demons" by Of Monsters and Men, "Paint It Black" by the Rolling Stones, Danse Macabre (like it's Pitch seducing Anna with music and dance).

Pitchanna- many Of Monsters and Men songs suit them, several Lana del Rey songs like "Paradise" and her "Once Upon a Dream" and "You Must Love Me" covers, also "My Beloved Monster" by the Eels, "Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar (especially the verses "...I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you" for Pitch and "...I wish that I knew what makes you think I'm so special" for Anna), "Beautiful Stranger" by Madonna, "Skyfall" by Adele (this is pretty much their theme song for my Superhero AU, "Celestial Bodies"), "Superstar" by Beach House (for tragic Pitchanna), "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Deathcab for Cutie, and Helen's Theme from "Candyman".

#anonymous #pitchanna #asks #pitch black #anna #otp: i have loved the stars too fondly

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bouncehousemortgage · 5 months

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Even that person I was talking about who is ostensibly pro-Palestine but was saying things that are rooted in Zionism, orientalism, antiarabism, Islamophobia, and antipalestinianism. Like I was so hurt by that because I really liked that blog and have followed them for a while. I’ll probably come back and follow them again once I calm down.

I think that that blogger is absolutely racist, you know? Like, they clearly are harboring racism against Arabs and they clearly don’t have as thorough an understanding of these politics as they think they do.

But I don’t think they’re an evil irredeemable person. I think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone who isn’t at least as racist as this person.

And this blogger is Jewish and has probably being seeing a lot of antisemitism and is probably very understandably feeling defensive, and as much as it hurts me to see them post stuff that is (admittedly mildly) orientalist antiarab and dismissive of the Palestinian cause and perspective, I also understand to some degree and have a lot of sympathy for them.

In the same way that it’s hard for me to distinguish good faith warnings of/accusations of antisemitism from antipalestinianism right now because I’m feeling understandably defensive, that blogger is probably also having a hard time distinguishing good faith criticisms of Zionism from antisemitism.

And I accused that person of not listening to Palestinians and I do think I’m correct. They never seem to reblog from actual Palestinian sources. Any pro-Palestinian content they reblog is coming from other Jews, some of whom are reblogging from Palestinian sources. And well, I think that’s not great, I wish they would follow Palestinian sources and reblog from them, but I do really appreciate that they care about Palestine as much as they do and that they are as supportive as they are.

Like, idk, I just don’t expect anyone to have perfect politics and I especially don’t expect either Jews or other Levantines to have the most perfect language right now. It doesn’t make it okay, but I’m trying to give people the grace and space I hope they’d give me.

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fidei · 2 years

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The loving Church is the mother of all

From the opening address of Pope John XXIII to the Second Vatican Council

Today, Venerable Brethren, is a day of joy for Mother Church: through God’s most kindly providence the longed-for day has dawned for the solemn opening of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, here at St Peter’s shrine. And Mary, God’s Virgin Mother, on this feast day of her noble motherhood, gives it her gracious protection.

Certain it is that the critical issues, the thorny problems that wait upon man’s solution, have remained the same for almost twenty centuries. And why? Because the whole of history and of life hinges on the person of Jesus Christ. Either men anchor themselves on Him and His Church, and thus enjoy the blessings of light and joy, right order and peace; or they live their lives apart from Him; many positively oppose Him, and deliberately exclude themselves from the Church. The result can only be confusion in their lives, bitterness in their relations with one another, and the savage threat of war.

In these days, which mark the beginning of this Second Vatican Council, it is more obvious than ever before that the Lord’s truth is indeed eternal. Human ideologies change. Successive generations give rise to varying errors, and these often vanish as quickly as they came, like mist before the sun.

The Church has always opposed these errors, and often condemned them with the utmost severity. Today, however, Christ’s Bride prefers the balm of mercy to the arm of severity. She believes that present needs are best served by explaining more fully the purport of her doctrines, rather than by publishing condemnations.

Not that the need to repudiate and guard against erroneous teaching and dangerous ideologies is less today than formerly. But all such error is so manifestly contrary to rightness and goodness, and produces such fatal results, that our contemporaries show every inclination to condemn it of their own accord – especially that way of life which repudiates God and His law, and which places excessive confidence in technical progress and an exclusively material prosperity. It is more and more widely understood that personal dignity and true self-realization are of vital importance and worth every effort to achieve. More important still, experience has at long last taught men that physical violence, armed might, and political domination are no help at all in providing a happy solution to the serious problems which affect them.

The great desire, therefore, of the Catholic Church in raising aloft at this Council the torch of truth, is to show herself to the world as the loving mother of all mankind; gentle, patient, and full of tenderness and sympathy for her separated children. To the human race oppressed by so many difficulties, she says what Peter once said to the poor man who begged an alms: “Silver and gold I have none; but what I have, that I give thee. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, arise and walk.” In other words it is not corruptible wealth, nor the promise of earthly happiness, that the Church offers the world today, but the gifts of divine grace which, since they raise men up to the dignity of being sons of God, are powerful assistance and support for the living of a more fully human life. She unseals the fountains of her life-giving doctrine, so that men, illumined by the light of Christ, will understand their true nature and dignity and purpose. Everywhere, through her children, she extends the frontiers of Christian love, the most powerful means of eradicating the seeds of discord, the most effective means of promoting concord, peace with justice, and universal brotherhood.

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lunalowell · 2 years

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She wants to talk about you calling her immature when she purposefully infantilizes herself AND Chrissy.

All she talks about with Chrissy is how sweet and cinnamon roll she is. How Chrissy is a “baby”. She and her Stan’s paint Chrissy as some kind of innocent naive docile sweet baby. But at the same time she firmly insists that Chrissy is 18 and a legal adult so she can be shipped with Eddie. Because? 95% of Grace’s relevancy is in that ship. If it can’t be a ship, most people wouldn’t care about her. That’s why she and fans fight so hard for that. She wouldn’t be able to profit off them without it.

Grace herself purposefully infantilizes herself, she uses a baby voice in tiktok and sometimes in streams (her Chrissy voice). She acts like a wounded dear after causing some shit. Even in the way she types. She knows this weaponzing tears act will gain her more sympathy and dickriders

To be honest I don’t give a shit about ships. I never said a word about that in this “argument” and still people hate on me because I don’t support their ship. Which I never said anything about??😂 they’re all mental. They’re FICTIONAL. And these kids are fighting for their lives when someone doesn’t share the same opinion😂 it’s so pathetic.

But. Everyone is allowed to have their meaning and thoughts about who they would ship. If they’re into that stuff. But apparently her fans think they own this series or characters or something and decides how things should be? Tbh I can’t be arsed getting involved in this shipping discussion. Definitely not when people depend on it like it’s life or death.

I agree with you by the way. It’s all insane. Ans talking about yourself as a baby girl is just…weird. But if you’re desperate for any type of attention to earn money you do what you gotta do I guess.

And yes that stuff is all a part of her playing innocent everytime she starts something. Just like how screenshots are manipulated to get her fans upset and to attack others who’s done nothing wrong. She “cries” about what she calls hate (obviously it looks bad when screenshots are manipulated and taken all out of context) then plays an innocent, hurt little baby to get even more attention.

I know this pattern and it doesn’t get under my skin. I just think it’s sad when adults disrespect themselves this bad.

#there I said it #I mean have some dignity

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spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Kingky

Pairing: Prince!Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: getting royal dick on valentine's day < 3

cw: body worship, dacryphilia, marking, breeding , praise (receiving and giving), sir/king kink, defaming royalty??(idfk what to call it) treason, possessiveness, borderline yandere, hurt/comfort, body worship, rough sex to soft sex, mind games, sacrilege, slight cnc (barley), former virgin reader, corruption kink, false sympathy, sweetheart to meanie >: ( , idk if this is slow burn

wc: 7.8k

a/n: for the jj plays cupid event!!!!! Thanks to @alto-march-of-death and @kmorgzz for helping build this story and giving me the title.

Happy valentines day,

love valentine < 3

- 18+ Minors DNI

“Stop being a crybaby, calm down”

His stern voice making you more anxious, not knowing how you ended up sitting in his lap. Feeling like a dog under him, or right now on top of him. Wondering how you got in this position daily, hourly.

You didn't understand why he kept you around, always having his hand around you whenever he could. You weren't the only pretty girl in the country, you weren't even qualified to be with him, being a somewhat servant before him snatching you up.

As much as you tried you couldn't ignore the stares and side comments of all the other girls in the harem, it made your eyes water, trying to wipe them when you got back to your room the prince gave you, all the others living in the same building, much more run down than yours; maybe that was one of the reasons.

Looking in the solid gold mirror he gifted you, ‘just cause’, always reflecting your red and puffy eyes daily as you called your most trusted maid to grab you some ice.

She was the only thing keeping you sane. No, the prince never did or pushed you to give him anything, but it was natural to be scared. Being in a foreign state after your guardians sold you. Aran, the only one who treated you like a human being and not a prize, saving you from being sold completely by saying that the prince would take care of you. As he worked under him his whole life as guard, proving his dedication.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thinking back to the day you listened to the first love of your life, dressing in their outfits on the day of the celebration. Aran keeping a close watch on you, seeing your uncertainty knowing you had no other way out.

He flashed you a small smile, not big enough for anyone to see but you, trying his best to reassure you that everything was going as planned.

Hearing the drums stop, you and everyone else at the festival turned their heads to the large door, carved out of the most luxurious stone, their family crest being engraved onto it.

You bowed seeing everyone else do it, the head advisors words being caught in your mind, "To properly curtsy, you place the right foot behind the left and then it's just a slight bob, what you don't want is when a lady goes too far down and then she can't come up."

This being the third time you done it since you've been here, the first after running into prince Sakusa’s advisor. Him declaring that you would be a perfect match for his concubine after seeing you at the banquet the other day.

He continued by saying that he wouldn't be able to deny your beauty and that you would be perfect for him, even making an exception for you due to his distaste with the women in his country.

You tried to zone out of the conversation until the words “produce an heir” brought you back. You froze, throat closing, sweat now forming on your body extremely repulsed at the thought of being in that situation. Aran quickly noticed the state you were in and told his advisor that you weren't feeling good, leading you back to your room, his hand supporting your back as you trembled in his hold.

You entered the room that had been provided for you while you stayed here, immediately crying your eyes out as soon as the door closed. Your dreams of having a family, a normal family, the only thing you've ever wanted, being snatched right from your roughed up hands.

You turned your attention back , hearing the Herald speak. His voice being loud shocking you, but you still kept your balance not wanting to mess up already.

“Now introducing His Grace, the Duke of Inari, followed by His Royal Highnesses, the Princes of Inari.”

You slightly looked up, seeing the king followed by the two princes, not being able to tell them apart.

But luckily Aran moved ajar to his prince, the other prince’s and duke’s guard doing the same for them before they went their separate ways. Everyone lifting their heads now as you did the same following in suit. The party resumed itself as you could see everyone going back to drinking and taking along with the music returning.

They moved to the prince's chair, making out that they were talking, not being able to read their lips, not that you wanted too, what was their business you had no involvement in nor did you want to. But that changed when you saw aran gesture towards you out of the corner of your eye.

That's when the prince you would grow to care for laid his dark eyes on you for the first time, not being able to take them off, making you shiver in embarrassment. The outfit you had on only covering the parts that needed to be. The ‘dress’ you had on having slits on your legs all the way up your upper thighs,borderline hips.

The white, almost see through material held together by jewels and gold, along with your hair being fastened the same way, hoping nothing was out of place. You wanted to do a good job for him, trusting him with all your heart since he was the only you've had your whole life.

You were brought back to reality by noticing that Aran and the price weren't in the same place, quickly looking around before you were greeted by a charming smile as you turned your head straight again.

“Good evening my lady” he said, holding his right hand covered in jewels out, slightly bowing to be eye level with you, his smile not fading. And as you looked him in the eyes you froze yet again, getting entranced by his gaze, so warm and compassionate yet terrifyingly cold, remembering the power he held.

You looked up at aran for a second, him reassuring you that you were supposed to give him your hand, so you did.

“Good evening, your royal highness.” trying to be as confident as you could, again breaking eye contact with the prince one again to look at aran, making sure everything you did was right.

“Would you care to join me for some drinks?” the crown on his head shining brighter than the stars, his eyes still lingering on you.

“Y-yes your highness” you stuttered out, shocked that this was working. Even if you didnt what you were supposed to say. No? You'd probably be executed if you did, the thoughts plaguing your mind as you walked alongside him and Aran towards their table.

He sat down patting next to him for you to sit. Yo looked up at Aran, standing there nodding as confirmation. As you then sat next to him, as far away as you could without it being obvious, or at least he didn't mind.

He poured you a drink into a gold cup, guessing the red liquid to be wine, before pushing it towards you “Thank you your highness” you said more assured this time, picking it up with both hands wrapped around it, nervous that you'd drop it.

This continued the whole night, feeling more comfortable due to the alcohol and Aran being your ‘protector’; even though he'd kill you if the prince asked him too. Lucky that you weren't lightheaded, this night being the first time you've ever had more than one drink.

You even laughed, the prince saying something funny trying to get it out of you, and from the moment he saw your smile he was entranced.

A few days after you were requested by the prince, Aran coming to fetch you. The relief on both of your faces that you'd at least end up somewhere where he could watch over you too.

You were greeted by him after passing through the gate, the prince himself helping you get out of the carriage and not your guard. He expressed that he couldn't keep his mind off you for days, your pretty face being the only thing running though his mind before finally asking you to be one of his girls.

As much as you didnt want to be “one of his many girls” you didn't have any other option than to be with, some random guy, sorry- a prince. Or be sold to an old guy whose wife ‘suddenly’ died, the thought making you cringe.

You put on a fake smile, finally let go of all your hopes and dreams, letting yourself be his, completely in and out. “Yes your highness. I would love that!”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Miss y/n!” your maid said coming back. “The prince wants to see you!” she exasperatedly said, running back here as it was urgent to get you ready to see him, always having to look perfect for him.

He probably wanted to talk to you about valentine’s day, something he or anyone in this country doesn't celebrate, mentioning it to him about a week ago as you laid in his arms after being with him the whole evening.

Thinking back on it; being embarrassed at how you asked, covering your face at the thought.

“I-it's um-, a day where… couples spend together” you said in a combination of mumbling and whispering out the last part, not wanting to make anything out of you twos 'relationship’. Not expecting anything after being together after being his for almost 9 months.

You've grown accustomed to not expecting anything, always getting disappointed in the end. Being emotional was hard, running in the nearest private place letting your tears run free at the littlest things, but at the end of the day it was just because no one listened to you. Someone being the slightest bit attentive to you was all it took to make you happy,.

She ran a bath for you, the steam rising as you got in it, giving you the ice you requested for your face while putting in some oils from the flowers you were growing.

Them residing in the same garden that grew the ones you planted for the a few months ago, wanting to give them as a sort of goodbye present, or not. Still being unsure about staying with him, even already writing a letter around a month ago; hiding it in the pocket in the fur coat.

You just knew at the moment you were going to play into his hands, letting him do whatever he wanted to you, not that you wouldn't enjoy it; he always took care of you.

Another reason you've grown attached to him, not realizing if you genuinely liked him, or the affection and attention he so profusely gave you. Sometimes you ever questioned your love, not romantic anymore for Aran, wondering the same. The both of them being the only ones to ever treat you with any sort of care or respect, besides your personal maid.

After doing your hair the way he liked it, along with putting on the light fitted dress you loved to wear, tou took one last look in the mirror before you walked to his office.

“My lord...” you stummerd now, clinging onto his robe straddling his leg, a heat rising up to your face. Your body never knowing how to control itself after being with him.

The other woman's jealousy still got to you, even the way they looked at you made you cower. You were sensitive, still not numb to it after everything you've been through. You were weak inside and outside. Nowhere near good enough to be his, whatever he wanted to call it.

But he noticed, not letting none of them do anything to you, you having your own personal bodyguard now. Usually spending the night with him in his room, and during the day you just sit in his lap and entertain him while he works.

He was in no way a bad prince, in fact he was a great one in your opinion, putting everyone first along with his brother, twin brother, as you learned. But something you also understood was do as you were told or it would be the end of your life, as your dear friend Aran said.

“Just because he likes you doesn't mean he’ll keep you forever.” His words always replaying themselves in your mind every time the prince did something for you, whether it was buying you something again, or that one time he gifted you a whole garden for you to tend to when he couldn't be around.

Yes you were insecure about you two’s ‘relationship’, wondering if you should just leave as you later found out any of the girls were free to leave. But the way he treats you you've grown accustomed to. Waking up in the morning, the first thing crossing your mind being him, even if you slept in separate beds. Immediately reaching out for him being disappointed when he wasn't next to you.

---------------------------------

There’s nobody else here, which is as much of a surprise to you as it is to the rest of the girls that had been ushered out. It’s just you and him, with the overwhelming tension blinding and dizzying.

The bath that you two were in, warmed to your liking, was only adding to that fact. After rubbing his shoulders and feeding him the sliced apples he liked, pampering him like the royalty he was, your arms got tired along with your mind. Thinking about the fact that you may not be here in a month, the ache in your heart growing.

Reaching out for some of the wine his maids had prepared earlier in the glasses as he beat you to it. Gently taking your jaw into his hand, tilting your head back enough, as you let him. Letting the slightly chilled liquid make its way down your throat. His eyes grazing you like you were a little lamb and he was a big bad wolf coming knocking on your door.

His thumb swipes once across your lips, partly cleaning up some of the wine that escaped your them. His soft grin widening, his voice being laced with the smell of liquor. “you’re so pretty, my love.” pushing your pulled up hair to the side, laying soft open mouthed kisses along your neck. Shivering at the touch while melting into his arms. “so pretty.”

You heart flutters in fearful anticipation, the lust in your body rising to the top. Every movement of his forcing a sharp, terrifying jab at your chest. He stares, stares for too long

His fingers holding a vice grip to your jaw, thumb poking at your lips, tugging your lower lip down. Marveling at you for a few more moments, before his hand falls back to his side, and he sighs.

He was entranced from the very moment he saw you.

He helped you out of the tub as it grew too cool, placing your hands in his as he then picked you up over the ledge. Placing your feet on the floor, your wet body now getting cold while admiring his slightly tanned figure as he loosely wrapped the light robe around your frame, doing the same to himself.

His broad toned chest peeking through; his pretty collarbones exposed just for you. Impure thoughts getting to you as you remembered the last time the two of you were in here. Your legs wrapped around his head, dangling, as he made you cum over and over again on the cold marble countertop.

He picked you up again, mumbling out something along the lines of “beautiful”. His big arms supporting your back and legs as he took you to his bed, sitting you down in his lap as he calls the maids in, always females, telling them to bring in some food before placing his attention back on you.

“Are you okay dear?” he asked looking at you yet again bringing you back to reality, placing his hand on your thigh, making its way slightly under your robe .

“Yes your highness-, I'm fine. Thank you for asking.” you responded giving him a warm smile. Not entirely fake, as you were enjoying yourself, but were you really happy?

You wanted the average; a nice house, a family you could always come back to, a warm bed and clothes. And he made sure to give you all the material things you could ask for. But again, were you really happy? At the end of the day you just wanted genuine love and affection.

The maids knocked on the door, him letting them in as they brought trays of food, your eyes lighting up as a smile peeked through when you saw your favorite. Making you heart beat even faster that he remembered what you told him, even though he asked you.

You fed him as usual, placing him before yourself as you were taught, not minding. Instead feeling like a mom feeding her kids, a giggle coming between you lips at how peaceful he looked.

“What's so funny?” he asked, his words coming out as concerned that he wasn't in on it.

“Nothing my lord, its just… i was thinking of how cute you looked” you said trying to hold back the laughs still trying to make their way out of your mouth.

“Cute?” he questioned, looking vaguely offended that someone would call him, the strong, handsome, intimating prince ‘cute’.

“Yes my lord”

“What about me is cute, huh?” he asked again, sounding like a child. “Is it this?” he said, now grabbing a piece of meat while opening your mouth. Taking the food in between your lips, your cheeks stuffed as you chewed on it, looking the happiest he's ever seen you. His heart growing with every movement you did. “Your right… it is.”

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, moving his hand to your waist firmly gripping it. Feeling the affection ooze out of him as he leaned into your neck. His breath being blown onto your neck with every word, his lips being so close yet so far.

You nodded, another smile appearing on your face, trying to hold back your eyes watering, not letting one tear slip out. You turned your body facing him, his hands never leaving your body. Resting your head against his chest, letting you do whatever you wanted to him.

He turned your head out of his body, facing him now. Connecting your eyes with his while he stroked your forehead.

His lips meet yours, not even realizing for a second, the feeling of his plump ones against yours being so natural at this point. Making you give him a good morning, goodnight, a good whenever kiss, everyday. One kiss turning into many, an overwhelming amount by the time his mouth is trailing down your shoulder. His wet open mouth kisses, spit and marks being left behind.

Stopping when his neck can't turn anymore. Instead repositioning you to sit higher on his lap as he now can kiss your arm, doing the same but adding his hands down your body this time.

You let out a whine when he slid your dainty little robe to the side, your body now being exposed to the cooler air, tensing you up. Hardening, hoping he would just keep paying attention to everything but that, your nipples rubbing up and down against the linen fabric, your legs straddled his thigh as he slightly bounced you everytime he reattached himself to your skin.

His warm hand eased the cold feeling as he placed in on your inner thigh; a wave of heat rushing through you as he gripped it, fingers inching closer and closer while his eyes looked down upon you, his lip behind your ears, feeling his hot breath be blown onto the to top of your spine making yous shiver in his summery embrace.

“y -ah, your high-ness” you moaned out, your hands nothing compared to the size of his, reaching out for his wrist, barely being able to wrap your trembling fingers around it.

Your dramatic, conscious tears finally spilling out as you feel his length grown against the swell of your ass involuntary grinding against it.

“Why so formal my love?” he smirked, the hunger in his voice evident, spreading your poor little cunt open. His fingers sliding down it, gathering the slick in between them before teasing his finger in your hole. Only putting just past his nail in, feeling the wet hotness slide down his knuckle letting out a heavy groan at the sight.

He pulled the finger out, moving his head so you could have a clear view of him as he placed his ring finger on his tongue sucking on it, deliberately making it sound as lewd as it could. Loving how flustered your pretty face got as you hid into his arm, clenching your fists around the fluff of his collar.

He let out a little laugh, thinking about how precious you were while sliding his hands up your thigh and separating the sides of your robe letting the shoulder fall off completely all the way down to your waist.

His fingers covered in slick and saliva now fondling your tits he freed, his middle finger and thumb pinching your nipple, already hardened from earlier. Internally blaming it on the cold and not how worked up he got you.

Opening your legs with his other hand, letting you back rest of his chest once again, hiking your knees up to give him a full view, looking down or in the big mirror he had against the wall.

Returning his hands to the mess of your cunt, this time actually sliding his finger fully in, no warning besides the fact that he was obviously growing impatient. Wanting to devour you, but reminding himself that he had to take his time or he would break you.

“You get like this… for me?” he teased nudging his head into yours, forcing you to look at your reflection. Your legs spread open just for him, your greedy little hole swallowing him up as you whined out not knowing for what.

Your mostly naked body against his still clothed,m while his eyes stared into yours from the mirror, your cheeks being squished into his hands as he makes you maintain looking at the scene, bringing your pouted lips to his, so irresistible.

The formerly neat bed you two were on now being the opposite, the roses you said you loved being spread out all over the mattress as he pulled away from the kiss to lay you down on the soft quilt

His body towering over yours, knowing already in the back of his head that the maids would have to come in for a second time to clean up, just to throw away his sheets after he took care of you tonight.

Voice high pitched as you sobbed in embarrassment from his lips attaching to your nipple, fingers fucking into you shallowly, his slow pace getting faster every second.

Sucking on your chest, the pain being eased by his tongue dragging the spit over them, before working against it by using his teeth almost drawing blood. Your writhing under him, mouth open, no sound coming out except gasps, the way you’re squirming under him makes him grow even harder .

“I just want to fuck you, my dear, over and over again. The only thing I ever think of is you. Your precious moans and the pleasured look on your face is always running through my mind.” kissing away the tears falling on your cheeks before they fell onto your chest.

Leaning back into you and whispering into your ear, his breath tickling your baby hairs. “Fuck you till you cant think anymore, till all you can think of is me... just like you deserve.”

Sweat dripping down your back as he flips you over, your robe falling completely off, bare as the day you were born. Him trailing his finger down your spine, your ass already in the air knowing how he liked it.

Feeling the need burning under your skin, your hole clenching around nothing, wanting so desperately to be filled.

He wants to defile you, fuck you so much that all you know is him. Whether it was his cock making its way into your hole or mouth, barely being able to fit it but doing your best. His cock twitching at the thought of it.

His hand wrapping around your throat bringing you out of your own little world, choking you with your back to his chest, your knees doing their best to support you.

The atmosphere quickly changing, feeling the displeasure seep out from him. “Now what was that letter, hmm?” he questioned, already knowing, wanting you to explain what the fuck was going on in that pretty little head of yours.

The fact that you, a noble now thanks to him, wanted to leave the man who gave you everything you heart desired? He thought you were crazy. Even questioning if anyone had put any poison in your food.

“Y-your highness!” you choked out, turning around quickly trying to solve the problem you created, fat tears falling once again.

“I- um, well… the other women were-“ you cried thinking back to this morning when you went to grab the white and yellow flowers that you've been pampering for so long. This now being the second time they've done something like this.

“A-and…i've taken a liking to you, Your highness. please forgive me!” you sobbed out, knowing what you said. His naturally flirty nature made you doubt yourself, Not knowing if he even liked you back.

Your head now hurting from putting yourself in this position, already getting too attached to him, what were you thinking? You? With the future king, your food must have really been tampered with.

“Huh?” he said, ignoring the words coming out of your mouth being music to his ears. His somber voice turning damned as his anger was rising.

“you'd think i'd let you leave me? I don't think you understand dear...i'd kill you and everyone working under you if you left me.'' you winced at the threat is his tone, not knowing if he was being sincere or not, working against it so you'd never find out.

“You don't think I noticed? I always have guards around you. They let me know your every movement, whether it's taking a stroll outside or going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and they just so happened to see you crying your eyes out.” He stated loosening his grip. “But don't worry dear, I took care of them.”

“W-what?”

“You'll never have to see them again my love, I got rid of them.” he said with his unforgiving smile, almost cooing at you. Moving his hand from around your neck to cupping your face, his body still hovering over you. “So now it's just me and you.”

The strange thing is that you felt no fear, even knowing that getting rid of them meant he killed some of them, but why did it make your heart flutter? Why did it get you more excited? You were really going insane.

“You know I'm the only man that can take care of you, the only one can fill this needy little cunt up. he said, spreading you open, slightly pushing one of his fingers in. “i've got your slutty body trained to get soaking at just my presence”

“my lord-” you sang, thinking of how gentle he was while still controlling you. Remembering the first time he laid his hands on you. It hurt so bad, even though he spent a good amount of time prepping you to the point where you felt ‘messy’, but it still pained you to take him.

The first time you've ever been touched, and when you told him he froze, never being in this situation before. He thrived knowing that he would be the one to take the purity out of your body, preparing a whole week to ease you up. But you would never tell him this, not because you were scared for your life, but more of a caring reason, not wanting to hurt his feelings and ego in a sense.

“That's not my name.” he said, shoving his finger all the way in you in one motion, gasping at the action, still not letting a word out . “Fuck princess, call me by my name.”

You hesitated, your body not following suit. “Cmon love” he said almost pleading with you, his voice once changing again, sounding like a sad kid right now. “You're not gonna get anything till I hear that pretty voice say my name” he continued moving his finger in you, your moans bouncing off the walls.

You've never been so conflicted, not knowing what to do, just letting yourself be his completely in and out again. “P-prince Atsumu-”

“Fuck.” he groaned, your soft whine letting out his name, accompanied by prince. But he could deal with that. That fact that he's got you wrapped around his finger right now, literally, has him fueled. This all he needs to keep him going, to prove you would be nothing without him, without realizing deep down it was the same for him.

“You only get like this for me don't you. Of course you do! i'm the only man you've ever been with.” he confidently stated, keeping it that way, not caring if he had to use his bloodthirsty hands to do it. “Your brain only thinks dirty thoughts when I'm around, huh?”

He continued playing with you, touching every part of your body, the parts that he taught you about, some that you couldn't even get to, making you act like a fool under him getting him even more ansty. “fuck-.” he groaned taking his clothes fully off, letting his cock finally be free. The friction of his robe already making it leak with pre-cum, standing on its own against his stomach, so red and needy.

“You ready princess?” he said dragging you by your ass towards him, rolling you over as you arched your back, now face down ass up.

Presenting yourself for him as he let his cock rest on your ass, lubing it all up with your slick as he rubbed against it, wanting to stretch you out comfortably for you, pain and pleasure to mix not be separate.

“a-ahh,” you panted out, his thrusts immediately taking your breath away, not being able to catch it. His hands wandering all over your body before grabbing you shoulder, pulling you back against him, his other hand grabbing your tits, his grip tight.

HIs slow pace quickens as you clench around him, his other hand gripping under your hips to hold you up. He's never heard something so beautiful in his life, your moans and whines echoing around in his big room.

He's also never seen something this beautiful, looking in the mirror as your face is all fucked out for him. You tiny little cunt taking him whole, his balls slapping against your clit making you squeal with every thrust.

This position being his favorite, him able to see your body in every angle with help of the mirror, letting him abuse your body for hours. Watching his big hands tease your hardened nipples while you wheezed out nonsense, going completely dumb from his dick.

“You gonna be louder? Gonna let your precious guard know your getting fucked?” he tells you, thrusting into you harder, the jealousy that was settled in him rising back up. Ever since he first saw you he noticed the way you looked at him, putting it to the side due to the fact that he and Aran were close and that you too had nothing going on.

But the possessiveness in him grew after you tried to leave him, wanting to claim you in every way, wanting you to not be even able to function without him or his dick, him being the only thing in your mind. The heat growing under his skin this time, burning up throughout him as he fucks into you harder, pulling you close to him, his face now in your neck.

You could only whine at the shame you felt, Aran not even crossing your mind like that anymore. His hand unyielding its place on your breast, his fingernails leaving marks there as leaves sloppy kisses under your ear, knowing how sensitive you were there.

“You like this, right? Getting fucked like a whore, showing off. Like it when you’re stuffed full of my cock, pounding my own cum into you? You know cant leave me”

The vulgar splurge of words coming from his mouth along with his cock nuding your cervix at this angle was knocking the sense out of you, letting your moans finally be free, not holding them back anymore. Your body going limp in his hold, lucky that he was holding onto you so desperately, his hot breath sticking to the slobber he left on your neck.

“tsumu,” you gasped out to his delight, not even realizing what you had just said, too lost in pleasure. Knowing that he now has you in the palm of his hand. Saying his name so casually and lewd, like he wasn't going to rule the country one day. Pushing against his tight unchanging hold on you. “Can’t , please― ”

“You’re addressing someone of importance you know.” He said, regripping the base of your neck hard enough to hold you in place. “People are killed for not addressing royalty properly. Confidence overflowing through his words, finally having the upper hand.

“It would be a shame if that happened to you”. He continued, a slight tease in his voice, his cock getting harder looking at your pretty little tears dripping down your cheeks, falling onto your tits.

“-i didn’t mean to!” you sniffled, moving your arms backwards, grabbing onto him, lucky that he wouldn't cut your hands off for touching royalty at him. Tears now flowing from fear and pleasure.

“Tell me who I am, then I might forgive you.” he teased, playing mind games with you, having you fall and break into his hands, made him grow in excitement. “M-my lord” you moaned, not wanting to give in. “No.” he asserted, his grip on your neck tightening again. “Tell me who i really am”

You trembled in his hold that was growing looser with every second, knowing exactly what he wanted. “f-future king” you muttered out trying not to cry, embarrassed of how this, he, was affecting you.

You would normally be scared in this situation but the way his cock was pulsing inside you making all your worries go away. If you were to die, you would gladly if this was the reason why.

Your words getting to him, somehow fucking into you harder, bruising your cervix, breaking into your womb. “You want me cum inside? Leave my cum stuffed up inside of you? Hmm?” you could only nod, knowing you had no other choice, not that you wouldn't choose the other option in this situation, the feeling of pleasure overriding your logical thoughts.

“Can't hear you.” He uttered, groans following him. ”y-yes!” you whined like a baby, not wanting the feeling of him to leave. You were really spoiled, always getting what you wanted, and as usual he followed though, never saying no to you. “What a good girl, already thinking of how to help me.”

You don't know how long it’s been anymore, can’t think of anything besides ‘Prince Atsumu’, just how he wanted it. He couldn't picture anything other than him fucking you full of cum until your swelling with it. Unable to move as he flips you over facing him, wanting to see face first the mess he was making in your cunt.

Every part of him wants to own you, in and out. Wants to break you down until you're completely his, until your body responds to only him, until your brain is trained to be completely his, not giving any other man any attention.

“Want me to breed you, want me to fuck so much of my cum into you, that it’ll be spilling outta you for days? M’gonna knock you up full of my babies, just like a good little girl,” he groaned, having your wrists pinned to the bed with one hand.

Not like you could move, his strong arms holding you in place. Your pitiful whines not being heard over the sound of his balls slapping into you, the sound of you creaming all over him being white noise at this point. But the idea is nice at the moment; being unable to move, just being Prince Atsumu’s, the future king of Inari’s plaything to fuck as he pleases.

“Tight little cunt, swallowing my cock up,” he tells you, watching as the drool escapes your mouth, kissing it off of you. “Gonna fuck you till your pregnant angel, I’m gonna fuck you again and again until your carrying my heir. You’d like that, right love? Fuck my cum in and out of you.”

“y-yeah tsumu please tsu- tsumiee, please -ahhh” you cried, not caring what the consequences were. He was thrilled, his excitement being shown through his body, finally breaking you down to this state.

The fact that he turned you, a sweet, nervous virgin, into a needy little thing. Still remembering the day he took it, getting on his knees for the first time in his life, being the first person he's ever pleased and not the opposite.

Something about you made him keep coming back, wanting to see your face scrunch up in delight, caring about you more than himself, wanting to be your first and last. He genuinely thought he was going crazy, not experiencing a human emotion.

“Gonna fill you up with little princesses and princes so you gotta stick around and we’ll make a whole kingdom for ourselves.” he stated, wanting to make sure no one could mistake you as anything but his.

Your “yeah” makes his heart burst. You soft, sweet voice saying just what he wants makes him snap, hips relentless as he fucks you, unable to think beyond anything except fucking a baby, or two, into you. Wanting to see you so big and needy.

His heads in a whole nother world, the urge to fuck you, make you his own, the only thing not draining him. He trails finger down to your clit, rubbing it energetically. Listening to your sobs, edging him to not stop.

“Please” you voiced out, choking on your words. Being so close, yet so far. Him not letting you orgasm until he wanted you to. His selfish desires making you kick your legs out in complaint.

Feeling his cock pulsing inside you, finally moving his fingers on your clit again; blessing the gods that he at last let you cum, your body shaking as he slid his length deeper into you. You let out a cry, clinging onto him. His shoulders being placed into your arms as you didnt let him go, chest rising and falling dramatically.

“Fuck!,” he grunted. You nails digging into his skin, leaving little crescents there. Dropping into your neck as he finally feels sedated, cum shooting hot and thick into you. Holding you as you did him, your eyes already staring to close.

“You take everything so good, princess. so slutty,” he says, affectionate as he can be, looking at the mess you were making. His newfound love for you pouring out with every touch he laid on you. Not pulling out of you as he picked you up to get the dirty sheets off the bed, your head falling back his arms, eyes burning to close, lips slightly open.

“My love...” he murmured, now laying his body on yours, skin to skin. His face in your chest, your hands grabbing onto his fluffy hair. “You’re such a sweet girl… a pretty little thing.” he whispered, knowing you loved when the words left his mouth.

You murmured back, wanting the words ‘I love you'' to come out so desperately. Hiccupping as he adjusted himself in you. Leaving light kisses on your chest, clenching at the sensation, hating being so sensitive.

As he trails his hand down your chest to the pendant necklace laying in between your breasts, the first gift he ever got you.

He noticed you never took it off, just this one, not the countess rings, headpieces and other necklaces he bought you. He knew that you very much appreciated those, but this one was special to you, even keeping it on whenever you had to put on other jewelry whenever he had events, tucking it in the chest part of your corset.

You coddled him, his real personality coming back, where he acted like a needy baby, loving how you held him in your arms. Feeling like home along with his mellow smell, the scent of burnt amber mixed with the comfy smell of fresh linen making you melt into his touch everytime he pulled you closer.

He didn't want to admit how attached to you he was. Your warm smile, soft body, always knowing how to take care of him and make him feel warm and cozy, his personal stress reliever. Swearing he saw a halo around you head when you woke him up every morning, the light shining through the windows providing another testament.

“Were you serious?” you said, voice course and shaky. Wanting to hear the words you wanted the most.

“I'm the future king, they can't go against my orders.” He said reading your mind again, understanding how stressful it must be in your position. “Besides you already are in the eye of the people.” he huffed out, rubbing your stomach with his warm hands.

You saw a smile appear on his face before he disconnected himself from you, disregarding the warmth leaving your body.

“P-prince Astumu! You can't!” you uttered trying to take it off as fast as you could, hands scrambling. “Shh, see?” he said, turning your head to the mirror. “Look at how well it fits you.” he continued. You thinking his mind was clouded right now. Your naked form covered by the sheets the sheets. Your being a mess, along with your eyes looking red and swollen.The crown being the only thing presentable, sitting upon your fucked out head.

“fuck, you’re so pretty...” he said, giving you a longing kiss on the forehead, taking his time separating from you.

“W-what are we?”you said finally placing the crown back on the dresser.

“What do you want us to be?” he said, letting out a laugh, trying not to be so serious as he's never felt this way before. Being nervous for the first time since he was a kid.

“I'm serious.” you said pulling away from him. His shocked attitude working the fastest he's ever done in his whole career. His face expressing his need

“Ok...” pulling you back to him, the thought of you leaving making him want to crumble. ‘I need you.”

“And?…i'm not the only one you need.” you said trying to push him, his immature side coming in at the worst times.

“Fuck, okay my love, i promise you, you or I won’t be going anywhere, okay? I swear on god's green earth and everything I own.” suffocating you in his arms so you couldn't leave, pressing his lips against your head speaking every word that came into his mind.

Before you moved your head looking at him in the eyes, the blanket pulled up over the both of you, the roses wilted all over the floor. Your stare halting his thoughts, your eyes telling him to spill every secret that he held against you, wanting to know his very thought about you.

His eyes met yours, not being able to look away. A sigh left his lips as a blush grew on his face, you being the first person to leave him like this. At last he regained his composure, his messy haired, scratched up self speaking. “If you'd just let me explain.”

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