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#the day i realized he was the prince was the day my entire life made sense
pendragonsclotpole · 4 months
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growing up is apparently realizing the man who portrayed this guy:
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is also the man who portrayed this guy:
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the range of hugh dancy
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klaineownsmysoul · 4 months
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Sometimes I like to sit and think about how much Arthur Fox would have loved Alex. Loved his charm and his effervescence, his intelligence and his sense of humor. Mostly though, I think he would have loved how fiercely and passionately he loves his son. How he loves and wants the man Henry is and not the prince he was born as - the poetry loving, Austen quoting, witty and thoughtful letter writing man. He'd love the way Alex wants to love Henry out loud. How he isn't ashamed to want to hold his hand in public. He'd love the way he looks at Henry - like his whole world has narrowed down to one person - and how much he hates being separated from him.
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He'd love the way Alex gets Henry's snarky sense of humor (and is ok being on the receiving end of said humor) and know that it's a sign of Henry feeling comfortable enough with Alex to let his walls down and let him in. He'd love that Henry has never been or will ever be a notch on his bedpost, NDA or no. He'd love the way Alex fights for him and them and so desperately wants Henry to realize that he's worth it and that his feelings and desires are valid and not something to be pushed down and aside. That he matters. He'd love the way Alex isn't afraid to tell the entire world that he's in love with Henry and that loving him has made his life better. The way that all Alex has to hear is Henry telling him he's not ok and he's dropping anything and everything to fly across an ocean to comfort him and remind him that he is loved and not alone.
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He'd love the way Alex has no qualms about standing up to anyone - including the actual King of England - to defend Henry. I have a feeling he'd be tempted to throw hands to anyone who even deigns to look at Henry in a way he dislikes.
He'd love the way Alex's naturally outgoing and extroverted personality deflects and absorbs the spotlight that Henry doesn't want or feel comfortable in - much in the way that his friendship with Pez works.
Conversely, he'd love the way that Henry takes care of Alex. The way he keeps him watered and fed and not subsisting solely on coffee and a reheated piece of pizza every other day or so. How he calms the noise in his head but never makes him feel like he's too much. How he loves the fire and passion that Alex does everything with and always wants to hear what he's thinking. He'd love how perfectly suited they are to each other and he'd be so happy that his sweet Henry has found someone who knows exactly how special he is and loves him for just that reason.
Yeah...so this might have gotten away from me a little bit. I probably should have started with "in this essay I will..." because I am incapable of summing up my feelings in any kind of short and condensed way. I love these characters, this movie, the book, and all the extraordinary fanfic written about them. I'd warn you off me if they ever announce a sequel, but I'm pretty certain my behavior will be no different from the last 5 months.
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cdragons · 1 month
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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two
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Previous Chapter
Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠
Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.
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Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.
As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.
She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.
You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.
“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”
Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?
“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”
Ah, so that’s what this is about.
You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.
You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.
It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.
As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.
“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”
“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”
Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.
“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”
If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.
“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”
“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”
Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.
You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.
“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”
Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”
You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.
“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”
Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.
“Mother!”
Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.
“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”
You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.
The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.
You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”
Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”
Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.
“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”
Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.
“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”
“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”
 You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.
After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.
You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”
Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”
Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.
Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”
“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”
Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”
“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”
“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”
Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”
Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.
You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.
“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”
You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.
“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”
The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.
Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”
You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.
The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.
You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.
Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!
While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.
“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”
But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.
“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”
Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.
“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”
But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.
As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.
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The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.
Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.
You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.
The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.
You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.
But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.
Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.
“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”
You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.
“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”
Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…
“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”
But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”
“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”
Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.
He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”
You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”
Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.
“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”
You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”
“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”
Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.
“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.
Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.
“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”
“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”
“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”
Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”
“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”
“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”
Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.
Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.
You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.
While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.
If only life could be that simple.
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Translations:
Muña - mother
Kepa - father
Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”
Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”
Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”
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skyscrapergods · 3 months
Note
Do Cadence or Twilight ever regret not being able to gift Shining Armor with ascension like them or are they happy he was able to live out his normal life without becoming a god?
Not everyone is mentally suited to immortality. And this time, they actually asked first instead of doing an immortality jumpscare.
Cadance and Twilight didn't get a choice. Ascension was thrust upon them by Celestia. They had to come to terms with it after the fact, realizing they would outlive all their friends and have the responsibility of an entire force of nature in their hooves. They would watch countries rise and fall, see extinctions and new ways of living. Strange technology and customs, and slowly feel their life elongating until it was beyond mortal comprehension. An alicorn has to be ok with this. And alicorn should want this. It's a gift as much as a curse.
Shining Armor cares about the ponies in his life. He knows they will miss him, he will miss them as well. But he wants to stay among his friends, his parents, and his kingdom.
Shining armor said no. He said I have served Equestria my entire life, and one day I will rest.
His family is made of immortal mares. They could force it upon him to ease their own hearts, to prevent their own grief... But they won't. Love and friendship know more about being a person than the Sun.
It is his choice. He will not be the God Prince of Protection. He will simply be Shining Armor, and consider his life well lived.
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m1ckeyb3rry · 13 days
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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SEVENTEEN
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Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.
Chapter Synopsis: Now that you have regained your memories, you and Bian must set off in search of allies.
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Zuko x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 5.6k
Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery
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A/N: hey…how y’all doing…sorry this chapter is so blech it’s a little transition thing so that the next arc can finally start in full LMAO i don’t really like it but it does what it has to
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You threw the book away from you, earning a surprised squawk from Bian. She flapped her wings and drew back, the feathers of her crest standing on end in an attempt to look intimidating before smoothing down as she realized there was no imminent threat. Then, she cocked her head at you, cooing in confusion.
“That half-witted, self-involved, traitorous excuse for a person!” you said to her. “That — that — well, he is lucky I’ve only realized who I am now that I have already run away, or else I’d march to the palace and kill him myself!”
The Princess of the Earth Kingdom. The Princess of the Earth Kingdom. That was who you really were. The Soldiers of Agni had not been the ones to destroy the wing of the Earth Palace, you had. They were not the ones who had been vastly outnumbered in the face of opposition, you were. And the royal family of the Earth Kingdom had not entirely been killed during the coup, because you were still alive.
But — but did that mean Kuei was dead? Had they gone into Ba Sing Se and found him and murdered him? Your dear brother…there was such a low chance that he would’ve survived on his own, and an even lower chance that he would’ve escaped notice. Not with his bumbling, innocent worldview. Not with Bosco constantly at his side, drawing attention without even trying. Not without any way to defend himself, no bending or weapons or guards to speak of.
Then it had been meaningless. You had given up your life for nothing. Kuei was dead. The Avatar was dead — or, if he was not quite yet dead, then he would soon fall again at Princess Azula’s hands. Ba Sing Se had been conquered by the Fire Nation, and all the while you had been lounging around in the palace of the very country that had stolen your home, attending its school and befriending its people.
“Ursa,” you seethed, getting up and pacing restlessly, the ground shaking with your every step as your long-suppressed bending flared to life and ran wildly out of control. “A prisoner of the Earth Kingdom’s. Hilarious. Hilarious. Tortured for Fire Nation secrets! What a great story, huh, Bian? Lifted directly from Seven Soldiers of Agni, I’d wager! And all the while, I was his prisoner, and I didn’t even know it! I — I spoke so kindly to the person who ordered my execution…”
The ground stopped shaking as your anger faded, replaced with a bout of the mourning you had not yet been allowed to feel. Mourning for your brother, who you would never see again. Mourning for those days you had spent with Lee and Mushi, which were the few in which you had truly been happy. Mourning for your subjects, who were now in the grasp of the Fire Nation, likely under even more oppressive conditions than before.
“What can I even do now?” you whispered, though you had no illusions that anyone would answer. There was no Quynh to advise you this time. You had to do it yourself. You had to make the decisions.
Yet, you had attempted such a thing before, hadn’t you? You had tried to do the right thing back in the Earth Palace. You had sacrificed yourself to save your brother, to buy your kingdom time, but you had been ultimately unsuccessful. The only decisions you had ever made for yourself had been the wrong ones. So how could you be sure that the next ones you made would not be more of the same? How could you be sure when there was such a high probability that you would once again choose incorrectly?
“I am lost,” you admitted to Bian, a tear rolling down your cheek, followed by another, and then another. “I am utterly lost. I have nary a clue where to go next.”
Bian blinked at you. She was the only one around who you could talk to, but of course, you should not have expected her to be able to talk back. She wasn’t a spirit in the way of Quynh. She was just a regular, if not spectacularly bred and incredibly intelligent, bird.
There was no point in dawdling about hopelessly. Once the sun rose properly, Jia-Li would awaken and realize that you were gone for good. And then — and then you could expect the worst. There was no way that the Fire Nation would allow you to live, not now that you knew your true identity. There was no way Prince Zuko would allow you to jeopardize him like that. You had only this one night before the royal forces were sent after you.
“I have to find allies,” you said as you attempted to calm yourself by recounting the supplies you had brought with you.
It was the most important thing. If you wanted a chance at retaking your kingdom, then you needed people on your side, people who had the strength to back you up in that endeavor. A few days ago, the only allies you could claim to have had were Jia-Li and Ty Lee, but the situation had changed drastically, and now, they could both be considered nothing but enemies.
Your best chance lay in finding Katara, Sokka, and the rest of the Southern Water Tribe forces. Although their fleet was nothing magnificent, it was at least a starting point, one which you desperately needed. From there, you would take their advice into consideration as you tried to figure out a way to regain your kingdom from the clutches of the Fire Nation.
You slept fitfully, restlessly, awakening often and gazing up at the moon before uneasily convincing yourself to rest for just a little longer. The effect was that by the time the blazing sun began to rise in the cloudless sky, you were no less exhausted than you had been when it had set.
“We must be off,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder and whistling for Bian, who had flown off some minutes ago to hunt. When she did not appear immediately, you whistled again, holding out your arm for her to perch on. “Bian! We hardly have the time for this!”
There was a furious shriek, and then Bian tumbled out of the air, one of her wings bent at an awkward angle as a raven eagle dove after her with claws outstretched. Although she could not fly, she still snapped at her foe, her fearsome beak bloody around the corners, a streak of red upon the raven eagle’s breast where she must’ve been able to catch him.
“Bian!” you shouted, racing over to catch her and holding her to your chest as the raven eagle pulled out of its dive, too cowardly to face a foe so much larger than it. It screeched at you in contempt before soaring up out of the forest and out of view. You ignored it, setting Bian on the ground and using the ends of your sleeves to wipe at her beak. “Why would you do that? Why did you challenge that awful bird?”
Bian offered you her leg. At first, you thought she was trying to show you another injury, but beyond her broken wing, she seemed to have escaped the scuffle unscathed. Seconds later, you realized she was clutching a rolled up scroll tightly in her claws, only relinquishing it when you pressed on it with your pointer finger.
“Where did you find this?” you said. It was sealed with the stamp of the Fire Nation military, though you doubted that that raven eagle had any association with the army. Likely it had intercepted some official communications, and Bian, who had after all once been a Fire Nation bird, had attacked him for the treachery.
There wasn’t much written on the note, but for you, who had just regained your memories, it was yet another foundation-shaking statement.
The Avatar lives. Alert the Fire Lord immediately.
The Avatar was alive. Aang was alive, and he must’ve hale, for such an urgent letter to be sent off to the military, which meant that there was hope. If — if you could just reach him before Princess Azula did, then there was hope. Returning to Ba Sing Se would not be such a fever dream if you had the Avatar at your side, and you scooped Bian back into your arms, kissing her between her eyes.
“You always bring me such lovely things, Bian,” you said. She cooed at you plaintively, and you winced in dismay as you realized her wing hung uselessly at her side, her body shaking in your hands from the pain of the destruction of her frail bones. “And this is the thanks you receive. From what I recall, there is a village nearby, and there should be someone who can treat you in it. We will do that first, and from there, we will figure out some way to find the Avatar.”
Strangely, as you trekked through the forest, you found yourself grateful for your enrollment at the academy. This was exactly the kind of situation you had run drills for, and whereas in your years as the princess of the Earth Kingdom you would’ve run out of breath or fallen or underwent some other, similar calamity, your time as Ursa of the Fire Nation had prepared you for this.
It was the last gift Prince Zuko had given you, unwittingly though it may have been. By sending you to that school, he had inadvertently prepared you to be his most dangerous enemy — made more dangerous for the fact that he must have believed you still loved him, or at least held enough affection for him that you’d excuse his actions upon coming to know of them.
You didn’t excuse them. How could you? He had taken everything from you, and then he had dragged you back to his nation without any care for how it might make you feel. What selfishness! What ignorance! What folly! It was blindness on his part, to imagine that a bear could flourish in a land of phoenixes, to truly believe that you could’ve been happy in the Fire Nation for any extended amount of time.
You made it to the village by noon, and though there was no reason for anyone there to recognize you, you ducked your head as you raced to the post office, where all mail brought to the village was kept to be sorted and distributed into mailboxes. Because of the large influx of messenger hawks that went back and forth from the post office, you were more likely to find help for Bian there than anyone else.
“Excuse me, postmaster, sir,” you said, bowing at the man who was sitting at the counter behind piles of letters. “Might I trouble you for a moment?”
“What is it?” he said gruffly, clearly irritated by your request. You wilted at the unsaid rebuke, but then you straightened your shoulders again. It didn’t matter if the man was annoyed — Bian needed help, and you would get it for her.
“My hawk, I think her wing is broken,” you said, placing Bian on the counter and shushing her when she tried to flap away in vain. The postmaster squinted at her.
“She’s a fine example of the species,” he said, a note of suspicion entering his tone. “Where’d you find such a lovely creature? And why’d you let her get in this condition? Birds such as her are meant to be ornaments, symbols of status, not actual messengers.”
Yet another thing Prince Zuko had neglected to tell you. Well, this you could not blame him for; Bian was not the sort to sit around and be a status symbol. Flying and working and fighting were a part of her nature, and she would be miserable without those outlets for her energy.
“She’s mine,” you said. “I got her in the capital city. You know that they only sell the finest of wares there. Though, of course, I could not afford a hawk for mere decorative purposes, so it’s true that I use her to send my letters.”
The postmaster scoffed. “Idiot.”
“Look, is it possible for her to be healed?” you said, rolling your eyes when he bent to inspect Bian’s wing. “That’s all I’m asking for, sir.”
Now that you remembered who you were, it felt odd to be so deferential to a person who you outranked so vastly. Unfortunately, at least for now, everyone thought you were nothing but another common girl, which meant that just about any person you conversed with had to be addressed with respect.
“She’ll be alright in a couple of weeks,” he said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a piece of cloth, wrapping it around Bian’s wing so that it was flush to her body. “You’ll have to carry her around and take care of her in the meantime, but as long as you’re willing to do that, she’ll be able to fly again soon enough. It’ll be like she was never injured.”
“Yes, of course,” you said, sighing in relief at the thought that she would make a full recovery. “Thank you for your help. Did you hear, Bian? You’ll be okay.”
“You named her Bian?” the postmaster said. “What, have you been engaging with the colony trash?”
“Pardon?” you said. “What did you just say?”
“The colonies are such a blight on the Fire Nation,” he said. “Infecting even good and proper girls like you with their backwards customs and words. It’s a disgrace.”
The colonies was the general term used to refer to the Earth Kingdom villages which had fallen to Fire Nation rule. You had never been to any, but from what you had gathered, they were hotbeds of strife and inequality, where the Fire Nation soldiers lorded over the native Earth Kingdom citizens.
Of course — you had not realized it when you had given it to her, but Bian’s name was Earth Kingdom, so the postmaster was not entirely incorrect in guessing that you were from the colonies or had spent some days there. That was not what you were so horrified by — it was the latter part of his accusation, the notion of the Earth Kingdom citizens infecting the Fire Nation, which you took offense to.
Your people were not the invaders. Your people were not the aggressors. Your people had been living in peace until the Fire Nation attacked. If there was any blight, it was them, those destructive forces who burnt and burnt until the world fell to their feet. They were the stain upon the earth, so on what moral authority could this postmaster stand and claim that you were the disgraceful ones?
“Hm,” you said, though you longed to shout at him. There would be no gain from a burst of anger, though. It would only serve to give away your disguise, and you could not have that, not when you were still close enough to the capital that you could be easily tracked down by Prince Zuko and his ilk if you made even a single misstep. “Maybe so.”
“Do you need anything else? I’ll suffer pay cuts if I don’t get this mail sorted by evening,” the postmaster said.
“Pay cuts? You’re a government employee, aren’t you? Your pay shouldn’t be cut without extreme circumstances demanding it,” you said.
“It’s a new policy that Fire Lord Ozai’s put into place,” the postmaster said. “Those not performing to expected capacity will be punished, even though expected capacity is such an unrealistic goal. I haven’t seen my family in a week! I’ve just been sorting mail, mail, and more mail! But, ah, that’s not to say I’m complaining. All hail the royal family!”
“All hail the royal family,” you repeated, as was customary, even though the words were sour on your tongue. “Though that’s certainly a strange development.”
“It’s fine,” the postmaster said. “The Fire Lord is right, as per usual. If even one piece of a machine is not running smoothly, then the entire construction is forfeit. Maybe it doesn’t seem important, but if I am deficient in my work, then the entire nation will be that much delayed.”
“Very well,” you said. “If that’s how you wish to view it, I shan’t stop you. In fact, I’ll leave you to it, though not without a final question: is there any kind of transport that I can take to get somewhere else?”
“Depends on where you want to go,” he said, hunching over the pile of mail again and beginning to sort once more, eyes flicking up to meet yours when he spoke and then returning to his task immediately after.
“I’m not sure,” you said. “Just somewhere far from here.”
Belatedly, you realized you probably sounded even more suspicious, which was not a good thing, considering the postmaster was already likely questioning you, but luckily, he did not say anything beyond humming.
“I know of a couple that’s rented a carriage to take them to some southern hospital. You could probably ask to go along with them,” he said.
You brightened. The south was as good of a place to start as any; either way, it was in a different direction from the capital city, so even if the trip did not take you to the Avatar, it would deposit you in a place that was further from Prince Zuko’s reach than you were at present.
“Thank you,” you said. “And where might I find them?”
“The town square, most likely,” he said.
“Farewell, then,” you said, tucking Bian under your arm as you raced off. She did not protest, closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze as you sprinted towards the town square, hoping you would not miss the rental carriage’s departure.
As you skidded to a stop in front of a fountain, you huffed in relief when you saw a pregnant woman standing beside a man with a bag slung across his back. Though you had no description to go off of, you were willing to bet money that they were the couple that the postmaster had been referring to, and, after taking a second to catch your breath, you put on your best smile and walked over to bow at the couple.
“Hello, sir, madam,” you said. “I heard from the postmaster that you’ve rented a carriage to go to a southern hospital.”
“Yes, we did. It should be arriving soon,” the woman said.
“Why?” the man said warily, shifting so that he was standing half in front of the woman protectively.
“If you are not opposed, I should like to join you on your journey,” you said, poking Bian in the side. She squawked at you in indignation, and though you momentarily felt bad for bothering her when she was already injured, the noise served to draw the couple’s attention to her. Giving them a winning smile, you brandished Bian in front of you. “As you can see, my messenger hawk is injured. I am hoping to go to that same hospital and seek medical care for her.”
Bian cocked her head at them, blinking in a way that you could only pray they found charming. The man and woman exchanged looks.
“I didn’t know they treated animals, too,” the woman said, rubbing her stomach unsurely.
“Given the state of the, um, economy, they’ve expanded their client base,” you said, batting your own eyelashes. “I shall recompense you upon arrival, naturally.”
“I suppose it can’t hurt,” the man said, though you doubted he trusted you any.
“Thank you, sir. I promise you will not regret this!” you said.
“I sure hope not,” he said. Bian nipped your hand, and you shook your head before setting her on your shoulder, though not without reprimanding her for the impolite behavior.
“You won’t!”
The carriage rolled into the square only minutes later, and you thanked Quynh internally for sending you into the town at just the right time. Only a bit of a delay and you would’ve been stuck traveling by foot, but instead you would be making your way across the Fire Nation in relative style, taking up your own bench in the carriage and letting Bian rest atop your bags beside you.
“So, what’s your name?” the woman said as the carriage rolled off. You almost responded with Ursa out of habit, but you stopped yourself just in time. You didn’t want to wear anything associated with Prince Zuko, not even a name, and if the couple happened to be questioned at any point, then you did not want your well-known moniker to fall from their lips.
“Jia-Li,” you said easily, borrowing the first Fire Nation name you could think of, apologizing to your likely-frantic roommate as you did so. You had no specific quarrel with her, after all. One day, eventually, when she joined her nation’s army and became your enemy in full, you would not think of her so fondly, but for the moment, she was nothing more than a girl who had been kind to you. Your friend. “My name is Jia-Li.”
“That’s a pretty name,” she said.
“Thank you,” you said. You recognized that you probably ought to ask them for their names in return, but you did not. They were, after all, doing you a great favor by letting you ride in the carriage with them, and you would not repay their kindness with understanding.
If you knew their names, then you could incriminate them as accomplices in your escape, should you ever be captured or otherwise under duress. No, unawareness was the best policy. Maybe you’d seem ruder for it, but it was for their own good that you did so.
“I’m due to give birth soon,” the woman said after an awkward moment where no one spoke. “That’s why we’re going to the southern hospital, you see.”
“Do you expect complications?” you said.
“Every woman in my line has died in childbirth,” she said. “My mother, and her mother before her, and hers before her, so on and so forth. It’s like a curse. We’re hoping that, with the advancements in medicine that have taken place recently, there’s a chance I won’t fall victim to it as well. The southern hospital is supposedly the best in all the Fire Nation — we’ve been on the waitlist for an appointment for months.”
“Oh,” you said, staring out of the window at the scenery flashing by. “My mother died in childbirth as well. I suppose we have that in common.”
Or maybe not. Maybe Sokka’s hunch had been right and Long Feng had had some hand in her death, too. Maybe childbirth was just an easy way to explain her demise, which would’ve been unnatural in any other circumstance. You wouldn’t put it past the scheming Grand Secretariat and his Dai Li underlings, who had proven they would do anything for just a little bit more power.
That was the first thing you’d do, you vowed. As soon as you had your kingdom back, you would put every single one of those horrible people that had had a hand in your parents’ deaths and Ba Sing Se’s fall on trial. None of them would be spared. Even if it took days, you would bring each of them to justice. Perhaps it was a vindictive thought to have, but it made you feel better to think it, so you did not allow anything resembling a conscience to demand you stop.
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
“I mourn who she might’ve been,” you said. “But not who she was. I never knew her, after all. Though I thank you for it, you should save your concern for those in direr need.”
The closer and closer you got to the southern hospital, the more the man fretted, fussing over his wife, who seemed to be perpetually near tears. You did not blame either of them; the prospect of the woman’s possibly imminent death was sickening for you, too, and you did not even know her that well.
It was mystifying to you. If she knew that she had such a high chance of dying while giving birth, why had she chosen to conceive? It made no sense. It was an entirely avoidable form of death, and despite the insensitive nature of the query, you posed the question to her.
“Because,” she said without even taking the time to think, squeezing her husband’s hand, “there’s a chance.”
“A chance?” you said.
“A chance,” she affirmed. “That I’ll survive. That our baby will be healthy. That we can have the family we’ve dreamed of. It’s a small chance, admittedly. Maybe even a minuscule one. Most people call us insane for risking it. I’m sure you think the same. But the truth is that, as long as that chance exists, I have to rely on it. We have to.”
“Do you think it’s worth it?” you said.
“Maybe not to some,” she said. “Everyone has to decide what they value, and then they just have to do what they can in pursuit of that thing.”
You were silent for a second, swallowing, gathering your thoughts, finding boldness in the anonymity of the conversation. They did not know you, and you did not know them, and it gave you the confidence to say something you would not dare vocalize to anyone else.
“What if a person values two things that are in conflict?” you said. “Say, their home and someone they love. What then?”
It was the man who spoke up this time. “If they really love that person, then they’ll do as that person wishes, even if it’s difficult. Even if it means they can’t have something else they desire.”
He glanced at the woman when he spoke, and you realized that he must have been speaking from personal experience.
“I see,” you said. “I guess it must be like that.”
It was a confirmation of what you had thought — that Prince Zuko had never loved you, not like you had loved him. You had given him everything, had allowed him through Quynh’s Door, and all the while, he had felt nothing for you. He had been pretending. You had told him the way to get into the palace, and he had seized the opportunity you had presented him with.
That was all you were to him. That was all you had ever been. An opportunity. A key. A door. What a stupid girl you were, to think he had ever thought of you as anything but Princess Y/N, his very own entrance to the Earth Palace.
“We’re really worried,” the man confided in you as the woman slept. “It took so long for the hospital to agree to see us, and longer to find a rental carriage willing to travel so far. If anything happens and we’re late to the appointment, I’m afraid they’ll turn us away. As it is, we’ll probably arrive with only an hour to spare.”
“I’m sure there won’t be any issues,” you said. Almost on cue, the carriage caught on something, and then it rolled to a stop. You swore under your breath before pursing your lips, not wanting to seem even impoliter than you already had.
“What’s happening?” the man said in a panic, pulling the curtains back and peering out the window. His wife woke with a start, glancing around, still dazed.
“What’s going on?” she echoed.
“By my estimates, it’s a routine stop. Perhaps one of the dragon moose grew tired and needed to be given water. There’s nothing to fret about,” you soothed, though you had no clue whether that was the truth or not. “I’m sure we’ll get going in just a few moments.”
The carriage door opened, and the driver entered, hunching over to fit in the doorway as he looked at you all with a grave expression.
“It seems we’ve hit someone,” he said.
“What?” the man shrieked.
“As in, they’re dead?” you said.
“No, they’re living, but they’re demanding payment for the injuries and trauma,” he said.
“Go on, then,” you said. “Pay them.”
“The company I work for doesn’t give us extra allowance for accidents,” the driver said. “It’s stated in the terms of the contract that passengers are responsible for additional fees incurred during the trip.”
“Just negotiating is going to take a while,” the man said, pale-faced. “Not to mention any savings we didn’t waste on hiring you are meant to pay for the hospital visit. We don’t have any extra!”
“You’ve possibly wounded the child for life,” the carriage driver said dully. “Yet you’re still being stingy?”
You frowned as you watched the back and forth, the way the woman’s eyes had widened and grown glossy with tears, the way the man’s fists were clenched to disguise the trembling of his hands. Though the situation was so different, you were reminded of Ba Sing Se. Here, too, the ordinary people were suffering. And here, too, though they were not your people, you felt a sense of duty prevailing in you, commanding you to help.
“I’ll deal with it,” you said. “You, just get them to the hospital as soon as possible. They have an appointment that they cannot miss.”
“But Jia-Li, what about your bird?” the woman said.
“Eh?” you said. She pointed at Bian. “Oh, we’ll, um, find another doctor nearby. You ought to worry only for your own condition, madam.”
“Thank you, miss,” the man said.
“Consider this my payment for the ride and the advice,” you said. “I thank you for both, and I pray that your child may be born with a good spirit and a healthy mother. May Agni be with you always.”
“You as well,” the woman said.
“We won’t ever forget what you’ve done for us,” the man promised you. “This may be the last time we meet, but we’ll remember you.”
You smiled at them, picking up your bag of things in one hand and Bian in the other.
“I’ll think of you often,” you promised, kicking the door shut behind you and hopping off the carriage, waving at the carriage driver to indicate that he could leave without you before turning to the scene of the wreck — only to find that there was no wreck, just a familiar boy standing and staring at you with a dropped jaw.
“Princess — Princess — Princess Y/N? Is that really you?” he said.
Your bag fell from your hands in shock as you comprehended who you were looking at. Placing Bian on the ground, you took a step forward, reaching your hands out, trying to ascertain if he was real or not.
“Sokka?” you said. “Sokka, what are you doing here? Why do I always encounter you in these strange, random places?”
“I should be asking you the same question!” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead right now?”
“Yes,” you said, and then you were throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly, so relieved to finally have found one true ally, one person who knew who you really were. His own arms wound around your back, and unbidden, your lower lip began to tremble as the safety of his embrace finally allowed you to unabashedly weep. “Yes, I should be dead. I thought I was dead.”
“Looks like your brother threw a fit over nothing,” a new voice said — Toph! It was Toph, springing to her feet from where she had been lying in the road, dusting herself off. “I mean, honestly, I get that he was sad and all, but an escape is not exactly the moment to throw yourself to the ground and bawl and dramatically swear you’ll never leave the city your sister is buried in! It’s a miracle we dragged him and Bosco away.”
“What?” you said. “Do you — Do you mean to say that my brother is alive?”
“Yeah, he is,” Toph said. “He ran off to explore the Earth Kingdom and find himself, though. Something about how if ‘his dear baby sister could be so brave, then it was about time he started doing the same.’”
“Kuei,” you said, overcome with a wave of affection for your brother. He was alive. Somehow, despite the odds, despite everything working against him, he had made it. He had found the others, and he had survived, which meant you could see him again. The two of you could reclaim Ba Sing Se together, united in your efforts instead of carrying each other’s banners in memory.
“He really loves you,” Sokka said. “It’s one of the few things I have to give to him. He’s a lot of things, but a bad brother isn’t one of them.”
You wiped away your tears, letting go of Sokka and stooping down to grab your bag and the discarded Bian, who thankfully did not seem too miffed about the proceedings, nudging you with her beak in what you could only assume was her method of showing you affection.
“He’s the most wonderful brother,” you said. “I didn’t always appreciate that, but I will make sure to tell him every hour of every day once we may meet again.”
“That’s cheesy,” Toph said. “But kinda cute.”
“Wait, Toph,” you said. “This is a little bit unrelated, but were you the one that the carriage hit?”
“Uh,” Toph said, scratching the back of her neck.
“Well,” Sokka said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Kind of?” Toph said.
Your jaw dropped as you realized what they had done, and, looking around to make sure no one was watching, you lifted a pebble using your Earthbending and flicked it into Sokka’s forehead. This earned you a wounded yelp from him and a cackling laugh from Toph, who you had not bothered attacking on account of her seismic sense.
“You buffoons,” you said. “Did you seriously try to scam me?”
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taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction @yukihatesreoyo @yodayyy @ellzbellz18 @wscxbells
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retrieve-the-kraken · 27 days
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So after taking some time to clear my head, and letting the wave of relief and closure wash over me, and feeling like someone literally unclogged my brain, I rewatched season 3 of Young Royals, but only finished just the night before I was going away for Easter weekend, so I didn’t have time to write anything.
But now I can finally say this: I liked it much better the second time.
And it wasn’t just the trepidation and anxiety that i had for finding out what happened in the end that kept me from completely enjoying it the first time. It was also that annoying week-long gap that we had to endure before watching the finale.
(I get that they did it for promotional purposes, and it was a lovely thing to be able to have that event for the final chapter, which obviously could only be one chapter, imagine having everyone there for the entire season, everyone watching for nearly six hours… no good.)
That gap, I feel, made it feel like we just landed randomly on an episode that was meant to tie up all the storylines. And of course it is, and of course it still feels that way in regards to some storylines, but wow, what a difference it makes to watch the whole thing as a whole, the way I’ve enjoyed the previous seasons.
I definitely could process it much better the second time around, watching calmly and carefully, and once I jumped straight from episode 5 into episode 6, it definitely felt more cohesive. It felt like it followed the same pattern as the previous seasons, the conflict at the end of episode 5 is very similar in every season, and it felt right.
And the final episode of each season seems to follow a very similar pattern too, except that it shifts a little each time as Wille gains autonomy. In Season 1, the climax was that Wille had to do what the crown said, on the crown’s terms (deny the video, keep August’s betrayal secret, lose Simon), because he didn’t know what else to do, he didn’t have a choice, sad ending. In season 2, he has to do what the crown says (do the speech, play the part of the Crown Prince), BUT he’s doing it on his own terms (telling the truth about the video, being with Simon, even if it means keeping August’s secret), he has somewhat of a choice, bittersweet ending. In season 3… well, it looks like he’s doing what the crown says still… and then he finally realizes that he does have a choice. Sad ending? Nej! He finally gets his happy ending. He has come to terms that the can have a choice.
The second time around, just when we thought we were getting yet another sad ending or bittersweet ending like the previous seasons, it shifted. Plot twist, he’s getting out of the car. Of course there is a lot up in the air (was your first thought also literally “but Wille, you left your bag in the car! You don’t have a toothbrush! You don’t have a phone charger! You don’t have clean underwear!” or are you normal? I am not normal, I have anxiety about things like that), there are many things that will still need to be resolved after the credits roll, but… it felt right.
And of course there are things that got tied up and still felt a bit quick, and things that felt annoyingly left up in the air, but that was precisely what happened each season, things that felt like maybe would get properly addressed the next season, but that’s not how life works. Not everything gets resolved. And it feels a little sadder or more bitter because we’re not getting another season.
But we are. It’s playing in our heads right now. People are writing fanfiction about it. And I can’t wait to absorb it all.
I’m definitely watching the whole season again, and doing a play-by-play analysis like I did for season 2, because I love hyperanalyzing every detail of this show.
Can I just preliminarily warn that I will be gushing about Edvin and Omar, and Nikita and Frida and Malte, so so much? Because the second time watching season 3, I was in awe, true awe, of how good they have all gotten. I mean, they’ve all been incredible from day one, but I feel like there were nuances to their characters this season that highlighted so much how incredible they all are. Particularly my babies, Edvin and Omar, deserve all the awards. Can’t wait to see everything they do.
I will miss them with all my soul. But I don’t have to let go of them yet.
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bu-blegh-ost · 5 months
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Let's analyze Captain Rose's final message (ep. 113 spoilers!!!)
I have transcribed the entire thing into my notes, and there are few parts that I believe give us some subtle hints to important lore bits. So let's take a look at these fragments, shall we?
"Even with the Emperor’s gracious accommodations, I can never feel at ease unless I’m sleeping on the sea. Tomorrow, we depart this beautiful country for one last ride."
Nothing that crazy here, but now we have a better grasp at the timeline. So this confirms, that the last place Black Rose Pirates have been to, before they departed for the final adventure led by Hendrix's map was Onowa Country, and judging by what comes next, the chest was also created and left there during that last stay.
"But…if you’re hearing this, it means we all died."
If you recall, Drey mentioned few episodes back, that thier final excursion was of little significance, barely worth remebering. But here Rose is, about to embark on it, his last adventure before he retires, and he believes that he's going to die. That they all are. Rose must have hidden the true importance of this adventure from the rest of his crew. He KNEW that it's very likely they are not coming back from it, he KNEW he is not actually retiring. So, the question is, did Rose truly meant to leave life at sea for his wife and children, or did he chose to retire cause he knew he was about to die and he needed an excuse, to tie all the loose ends before he goes without alarming anyone?
"Even so, freedom can look so different for the individual. Not every pirate’s gonna play fair. I’ve been prepping for this moment a long time. The day I’d be outmaneuvered."
Something happened to Rose before that. If you ask me, something must have been put on Rose. A spell? A deal perhaps? Something must have happened between Rose and Hendrix (I can't be sure it was him ofc, but I feel like it is pretty obvious at this point). The map he gave him was a final retirement gift. Whatever happened, Hendrix surely did or offered something that made Rose unable to refuse the last adventure. Rose was forced to open the Hole in the Sea. He was forced to attempt to free the Nameless Prince, and he knew, he is bringing his crew to possible death. He knew they may not make it out of the sea in time, before whatever he had to do takes effects, before the sea turns black. I don't believe he would do this if he could find another way. This line makes me feel like he was tricked, finally cornered by Hendrix. It would also make sense why Rose never listened to Finn's warnings when he told him abt Hendrix hiding his true arcane ability. It's possible he knew already. It's possible he was already chained by it.
"Now I fear, we’ll be remembered for something we didn’t do."
The hole in the sea. The one thing people always mention when Black Rose pirates are concerned. He was right. But it only proves, that Rose in this entire game was a tool. Just a person forced to do another's bidding, to be at the right place, at the right time. A sacrifice, but not a player. Niklaus told Chip it was Rose who opened the Hole in the Sea. And he was right, kinda. TECHNICALLY it was Rose. But he was not acting of his free will. He was forced to do it. And who made him? Well, probably the one person who knows that it was him.
"Anyways, I think I should have cared about how my friends would remember me. My family…"
A beautiful comparison between Chip and Rose. Rose sought fullfillment, legacy, Chip sought to recreate his childhood, but they both realised that what they always wanted in the end was family. Rose realized it too late, Chip did so on time. And he did manage to create a family he can feel content about, be proud of. Rose's story is a reminder for him, of how things could have ended.
"If my wife is still alive, tell her, tell our child, her child, I’m sorry."
Rose left Onowa knowing he will not retire. He knew he lied to his wife when he told her that he'll raise their child with her. Did he ever mean it? Did he know that he is doomed from the start, or was there a true intention of going back to her, before Hendrix came and his fate was sealed? Also, that makes me think that Reuben is not Rose's biological son. "OUR child" refers to the kid they had together, "HER child" might refer only to his wife's son, to Reuben. Still, he must have cared for him enough to decide that he also deserved apology.
"Thanks for coming to look for us. I knew you would.
Take care, Chip. "
I wonder if he actually knew. Could Hendrix promise him that Chip would be saved? He didn't seem to expect anyone else to make it, so it's possible that either Chip was supposed to play a special role in some way, or maybe he already did, or he was guaranteed to make it out alive regardless of the circumstances to make the journey he is on now. That could mean that Riptide Pirates were truly always destined to meet.
Okay, that will be most of my thoughts! Feel free to share yours!
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bellaxgiornata · 10 months
Text
All These Years [Part 9: "A Truth Revealed"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut
Word Count: 4.5k
a/n: After the entire fiasco with my cat destroying my previous keyboard, I am pleased to say I managed to buy a new one and still managed to get this up in time to hurt/frustrate you all a little more. We're inching closer to some comfort though! I believe the next installment will be titled "The Weight of Grief" for this series. Enjoy the angst and feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705
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Curled up on your couch, you were comfortably cocooned in a blanket and completely focused on the book in your hands. Over the last few nights after work you’d been reading it, taking some time to escape into a romance that actually had a happy ending–unlike your love life. You’d been looking forward to having a quiet night in tonight, especially after the long and stressful day you’d had at work. 
And also because you’d gotten another call from Matt earlier today. 
After the dinner at Matt’s apartment with your friends almost three weeks ago now, you’d really tried to consider what Karen had said. Maybe it was time to try to distance yourself from Matt. If he wasn’t interested in you as more than a friend, you really couldn’t keep torturing yourself over him. You needed to try to move on, to put some space between the pair of you, but you certainly couldn’t do that if you kept jumping at every opportunity to spend time with him. Which is what you’d always done when it came to Matt.
So you’d been distancing yourself from him. Avoiding him lately until you finally thought you might be ready to see him again. You felt bad for doing it though, especially because the calls from him seemed like they’d oddly increased over the past few weeks since that night. You had explained to Foggy and Karen what was going on and what you were doing. The pair of them had been happy to help keep Matt off your back and to keep him from thinking too much into things, though every time his name appeared on your phone screen you felt guilty for all the times you let it go to voicemail. Or the times that you’d lied and told him you were busy and couldn’t talk. 
You needed this though. You needed to find a way to let him go before your feelings drove you insane. Because Karen’s question that night had made you suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn’t been happy for a long time. Not really. You’d been pining after Matt for years now, clutching onto the hope that maybe he liked you, or that maybe someday his feelings for you might change into something more. You’d held onto that hope with a death grip for so long that you’d realized it was gradually dragging you further and further down. And you couldn’t do that to yourself anymore. That other night a few weeks ago, when you’d flirted with Matt and made a complete ass out of yourself only to receive nothing in return from him that even so much as hinted at the fact that he was flirting back, you’d realized that you’d needed to finally release that hold on your hope. 
Matthew Murdock was never going to love you as more than a friend.
It was a line you said to yourself almost daily lately. Anytime the feelings would randomly crop up, you repeated that over and over in your head. It was a reminder that you needed to actually try to move forward this time.
Which was why this weekend you were letting one of your coworkers set you up on a blind date. You’d spent this past week trying to get yourself excited about it. Stephanie certainly seemed to think you and this Alexander would be a great match, and apparently he was an incredibly sweet and charming guy. Which was good. You needed to find someone nice. Someone who would be good for you. Alexander wasn’t going to be Matt but you were going to be open-minded when it came to that date.
Another thing you kept repeating to yourself daily lately.
Turning the page of your book, you were so engrossed in it that you almost didn’t hear the noise outside of your window nearby. Except you had. It was a faint, muffled noise that sounded like it came from your fire escape. You lowered your book, eyes narrowing as your head slowly turned towards the window.
Immediately you screamed, your book flying out of your hands and falling to the floor. There were two figures standing on your fire escape right outside of your window–one in all black and the other in red. Both of them had their faces obscured and it took you a moment to recognize the one in black as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you didn't recognize the other beside him who looked like they were struggling to hold him up. At least, you didn't recognize them until they'd reached a hand up and slid the mask down their face and leaned forward, knocking on your window. 
Your jaw dropped at the sight of Elektra Natchios in the flesh, smirking at you on the other side of your living room window. 
"Knock, knock, darling," she called out, voice muted by the glass. "Open up."
You froze on the couch. Letting Elektra into your apartment was the absolute last thing you wanted to ever do. You absolutely loathed her. And you also had no idea why she was toting Hell’s Kitchen's vigilante on her arm, either, but you figured the reason couldn't be good. 
"You're not welcome here," you called back, sitting upright on the couch. "We aren't friends, Elektra."
Her face contorted into a look of faux sadness and offense at your words before it quickly returned to its previous smugness. "I don't particularly care what you think of me," she replied, "but I'm sure you wouldn't want your friend here suffering outside in a dumpster."
Your face twisted in confusion as your focus shifted to the masked man clinging to her, his head hanging forward over his chest. He looked like he was in pain from the way he was slumped over. But why would she call him your friend? You'd met him once and you had been drunk–and managed to get even drunker after that encounter. He wasn't exactly your friend.
"I don’t even know him," you shot back, eyeing him through the window. "Take him to a hospital where he can actually get some help."
“Aww,” she cooed through the glass, one hand reaching up towards his black mask. “Are you sure you don’t know him?”
Your mouth opened to once again tell Elektra off, but before the words could even form she’d pulled back the black fabric from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’s face. At first all you could see was a mess of dark hair, but then her hand still holding the mask grasped underneath his chin, raising the man’s head up so you could see him better.
You audibly gasped, jaw dropping wide open as you stared at Matt’s face on the other side of the window. For a long moment your brain became entirely devoid of thoughts as you sat on your couch staring at Matt on your fire escape dressed as the masked man.
“Still want to say you don’t know him?” Elektra questioned.
It took you a minute to slightly recover on the couch, your mouth finally closing but your wide eyes still staring in shock at the sight of Matt–the same Matt who you’d drank beers with, the one who you’d shared your insecurities pre-graduation with, who’d cried on your shoulder when he’d told you about his father–as the masked vigilante running around Hell’s Kitchen. The very same one who you’d seen grainy video footage of in the news with superhero-like fighting skills. 
“Can you open up already? He’s getting a bit difficult to hold onto,” Elektra called out.
“Matt?” you whispered.
On the other side of the window, you saw Matt’s lips twist into a small, apologetic smile. He nodded his head just once in response. 
Still in shock, you unraveled yourself from your blanket and rose from your couch, making your way to the window. You unlocked it, sliding it up and watching as Elektra tried to help Matt through the opening. Reaching out, you grabbed onto Matt’s shoulders and attempted to help her get him inside. Matt’s own hands darted out to grab onto your upper arms in return, groaning as he made his way through the window and into your apartment. 
You hadn’t been expecting him to lose his balance though, and he’d stumbled straight into you. You toppled over easily, his body falling with yours and pinning you to the floor beneath him. Matt’s hands had flown out just in time to catch himself so he didn’t fully crush you under his weight, his face hovering just above yours. You could see a few bleeding gashes across his forehead and cheeks as his sightless eyes focused along your right cheekbone, a pained expression on his face. 
A plethora of emotions raced through you in that moment. Part of you, a very small part, wanted to lean up and kiss him. You’d never been in such a compromising position with him before, and you certainly wished it was under different circumstances–though you knew you shouldn’t be feeling that way and you quickly tried to divert your thoughts. Especially because this was certainly not the time for those types of thoughts.
For the most part you were hurt and confused, though. Matt had been lying to you all this time about those injuries he’d been getting. He’d been going out and intentionally putting himself into danger. And it hurt you that he’d hid that truth from you, that he didn’t trust you with that information. 
But not only that, how the hell did Matt go out blind fighting bad guys like the masked man did? Clearly someone taught him to fight like that, something he’d never told you about before–more secrets he’d been hiding from you. But you knew he was blind, so how could he do the things the masked man did? That you’d seen actual video evidence of? How was that Matt?
And why the hell was Elektra in a similar crime-fighting ensemble? What pieces of the goddamn puzzle had you been missing all along without even knowing it? 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
With a grunt, he pushed himself back onto his knees before Elektra was at his side. She grabbed onto his arm and roughly tugged him up, Matt hissing in pain as she did. You winced at the sound, slowly rising back up from the floor after him. 
“He needs somewhere safe to stay while I finish…dealing with some things,” Elektra told you, leading him past you and straight towards your couch. “Your apartment was the closest. And he said he trusted you.”
You stood there gaping at the pair of them as she lowered his battered and bloody body onto your couch. Matt was making noises of discontent as she situated him along it. 
“What–what the hell is going on?” you stammered out.
When Matt was settled, Elektra straightened and turned towards you. She exhaled a rough sigh as she eyed you from top to bottom. 
“Well darling, your BFF is the masked vigilante roaming the city,” she said. “ Clearly . I thought you’d caught that already, but apparently you’re a little slow, I see.”
“Elektra,” Matt warned through gritted teeth.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Someone beat him with a metal pipe,” she explained. “Now we’re thinking he’s fractured a rib and he’s honestly quite useless to me like this. So he needs to stay hidden here until he can get his ass home. Think you can manage that, darling?”
Your mouth had dropped open at the mention of a metal pipe and it had stayed that way for the duration of her explanation. Elektra groaned in irritation at the look of shock on your face, her head dramatically falling back over her shoulders as she did.
“He’ll be fine ,” she told you. “Throw a blanket on him and he’ll probably walk it off in the morning.” Attention shifting over her shoulder, she frowned when she glanced at Matt. “And it’s a damn shame I’ll miss seeing your ass walk it off. It’s certainly gotten so much nicer since I’d last enjoyed it. I remember–”
“Enough, Elektra,” Matt snapped.
Heat rose up to your cheeks in a mixture of awkward embarrassment and jealousy at what she was hinting at. But when Elektra’s eyes dropped down to where your book had fallen onto the floor beside the couch, you saw her head tilt curiously to the side, a grin slipping onto her mouth. Embarrassment won out as you watched her bend over and grab the book from the floor, slowly rising back to her full height as she examined it. Her attention slowly shifted back towards you, one of her perfect dark brows arching up on her pretty face.
“Didn’t realize we’d interrupted your fascinating read, darling,” she purred, eyes dropping back down to the book. “Romance novels though?” She tsked, shaking her head. “Doesn’t even look naughty. How positively–” her eyes landed back on you, an amused smile on her lips, “– you .”
“Shut up,” you muttered, heat burning at your cheeks.
“Still in love with your friend?” she taunted. “Love life a mess so you read this trash?”
Your arms crossed awkwardly over your chest, your gaze dropping down to your feet. Tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes at her words. She damn well knew you loved Matt and she was toying with you like it was entertainment to watch you hurting.
“Mmm, I see you’ve never actually told him then,” she continued. “All this time and you couldn’t–”
“ Elektra ,” Matt snapped.
Elektra had actually stopped mid-taunt, her lips thinning at Matt’s harsh tone. Even you’d been surprised at how irritated he’d sounded. Maybe he was finally seeing how rude she’d been to you for once. Though you doubted that would stop him from being with her; you were certain they would be back together if they weren’t already. Even if you knew Elektra would only be toying with him yet again. 
“You’re both no fun,” she said with a pout, tossing your book onto the coffee table.
You couldn’t look her in the face as she sauntered past you, tears still welling in your eyes. Blinking hard, you did your best to force them back. You didn’t want to cry in front of her or Matt. You were so tired of the tears.
“Don’t worry about getting up, Matty, darling,” Elektra said, sliding your window up behind you. “I’ll handle this one for you. But you owe me something in return.”
Elektra slipped back out of the window before you heard her slowly sliding it down after herself. Your apartment filled with silence at her absence, Matt’s head shifting towards you on the couch. There was a frown on his lips, his dark brows pulled together in something that wasn’t pain, but you couldn’t quite make out the meaning behind his expression.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your night,” he said softly. “And that you…found out. Like this. About me.”
“What the hell, Matty?” you breathed out. “How long have you been doing this?”
"Around the time Fog and I left Landman and Zack,” he answered.
You ran a hand across your forehead, trying to piece things together as question after question ran through your mind. You almost didn’t even know where to start.
But something in particular surfaced in your mind, panic flooding you. 
“So that–that night the man in the mask found me drunk in an alley,” you began slowly, the hazy memory coming back to you as Matt’s expression shifted to something even harder to read. “After I’d found Liam cheating on me. That was…you?”
“Yeah,” he whispered.
You grimaced, remembering how you’d unknowingly and drunkenly spilled your heart out to Matt himself that night. How you'd embarrassingly sobbed on him about being in love with him. Which meant that he knew you loved him, right? And he’d just spent all this time pretending you didn’t, like that moment hadn’t happened because he didn’t feel that way in return?
But of course he didn’t love you because as fuzzy as that night was to you, you remembered the masked man crying to you about loving someone, too. The conversation had been difficult to recall from all the alcohol you’d drank that night, but you remembered he’d been upset about a woman he loved. He must have meant Elektra, you realized.
Because of course he’d still be in love with her, even after she went and broke his heart. And now he finally had her back.
Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you felt even more inadequate for Matt now. With whatever he was out doing around the city at night, apparently he'd found his match in her. Because you certainly weren't about to go out and play at being a hero with him. That only further cemented how wrong you were for him; you’d never be Elektra.
“If you’ve fractured a rib I should really get you to a hospi–”
“No hospitals,” Matt said earnestly, cutting you off. “I’ll be fine, I just need somewhere to stay until I can heal a bit. If that’s alright? Just–just for the night?”
“Matt,” you began slowly, “if you have a fractured rib, that could take weeks to heal, not one night.”
His lips pulled back into a sheepish smile. “I’m different,” he admitted quietly. 
Your head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing back at him curiously. He was different ? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Different how?” you asked him.
“I…have heightened senses,” he confessed. “And I was taught a long time ago how to meditate to heal myself faster. So a fractured rib really isn’t that big of a deal to me, but I–I can’t fight like this. And my place was too far from where we were. I just–just needed somewhere safe to rest and heal. But I’m truly sorry for dragging you into all of this.”
“I–” 
You stood on the opposite side of your coffee table utterly dumbfounded with this new information about a man you’d thought you’d known for years . Mouth opening and closing a few times, you struggled to figure out how to piece a coherent thought together.
“You–you heal yourself?” you asked in shock. 
“Yeah,” he answered.
Another few moments of silence passed, your brain attempting to wrap around that crazy bit of information. But then you remembered the other thing he’d said and a whole wave of new questions rose in your mind.
“What do you mean you have heightened senses?” you asked him nervously.
“I’m still blind, but my other senses are able to pick up on things that others can’t,” he answered.
You sucked in a breath, fear building inside of you. What the hell did that mean?
“Like what?” you hesitantly questioned.
“Well I can hear that your heart rate just elevated even higher than what it had been at after hearing that. I can hear your blood pressure increasing, too,” Matt told you. “And I can smell that your adrenaline and cortisol levels just rose–meaning you’re nervous or afraid.”
You saw the corners of his lips curve downward as he spoke, his focus lowering towards your coffee table. Though at that admission, you felt your own heart rate sky-rocketing. He could read you that well?
“So–so all of your other senses are able to pick up on small details like that?” you questioned.
Matt nodded his head solemnly. “I can hear someone’s heartbeat if I focus. Can even tell when they’re lying to me depending on how it beats,” he explained. 
“How long have you been able to do all of this?” you nervously asked. 
A sad smile slowly drew his lips upwards at the corner. Despite your panic about everything Matt had probably been picking up on with you for who knows how long now, you wondered how hard it must be to live like that. How much outside stimuli was hitting him all of the time? What all was he experiencing that no one else had to experience?
“Since that accident that blinded me as a child,” he answered quietly. “You remember the one I told you about?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I remember you telling me about it,” you replied. “But how come you didn’t tell me this , Matt?”
“How was I supposed to?” he asked back. “What I can do, it isn’t normal. I’ve always kept it a secret.”
“You don’t think I’d like to know that my best friend can hear my heartbeat? Or smell my–my hormones ?” you asked him. “That you always knew when I was lying? Or–or was afraid? Or whatever the hell else you’ve picked up on from me? This whole time?”
There was not a doubt in your mind now about Matt having known the truth about you at least liking him. Being attracted to him. How could he have not known? If he could hear your heart alone, he’d know it was always racing around him, that he always had an effect on you. But he’d never flirted with you, never taken an interest back in you.
The tears started falling before you could stop them, your hands flying up to your mouth to try to cover the choked sob building in your throat at that realization. The strangled sound still fell out of you despite your efforts to hold it back, though. Matt’s focus immediately shifted to you, something soft and sad reflecting in his own eyes.
“If you can pick up on all of these things happening with someone's body that–that means you’ve known then?” you asked, your voice cracking as more tears fell. “This whole time? That I’ve had feelings for–” you broke off on a strangled sob, unable to just say it.
Matt nodded his head slowly across from you. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ve known for a long time, I just–just never said anything.” 
Another sob fell out of you before Matt said your name so softly, but the sound of it only drew more tears. He’d always known you loved him then. And he certainly didn’t feel the same.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I do my best to give everyone privacy around me, but some things I can’t help but…pick up on.”
Your tears fell faster now as your hands slid up and you buried your face in them. You didn’t think it was possible to hurt anymore than you did when it came to loving Matt, but you certainly had discovered tonight that you were very, very wrong. Because his admission felt like it had torn your heart straight from your chest before he’d tossed it out of your window straight down to the street below to be repeatedly run over by traffic.
Matthew Murdock was never going to love you as more than a friend. Hadn’t you already been repeating that to yourself lately? Well, how fucking spot on you were.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I’m–”
“Who else knows about you?” you asked, cutting him off with your face still buried behind your hands.
You tried your best to ignore the way your heart twisted at the way he'd called you 'sweetheart'. He'd never done that before and now was certainly not the time for him to start. 
Matt expelled a rough breath, the sound causing you to peak at him between your fingers. His head had rolled away from you now, his sightless eyes focused on the ceiling of your apartment. 
“Foggy found out,” he whispered. “On accident. That’s why we fought and the firm broke up. And uh, Elektra has always known.”
“Of course she has,” you muttered bitterly.
“You’re upset with me,” he pointed out.
You shook your head, rubbing the heels of your hand along your cheeks to try to wipe away the dampness. “I’m not upset at you ,” you told him. “I’m upset that you knew so much about me and I didn’t–didn't know that you did. And that you didn’t tell me all of this back at Columbia, because I’d have wished you’d trusted me enough with this information about yourself.” You inhaled a shuddering breath, that aching, empty feeling in your chest somehow feeling like it was finally consuming you entirely. "And I'm upset that you–you knew . All these years and you've–you’ve always known ."
Matt said your name gently again, but you shook your head quickly, continuing on and trying to force down the tears and the feel of your heart breaking. Matt was hurt and he needed help, that was your focus tonight.
“What do you need from me then, Matt?” you asked, sniffling loudly. “Just a place to crash? Medical help?”
You watched as his eyelids slowly lowered, a frown deepening on his face. “A place to stay for the night so I can heal, yes. And if you could call Fog, ask if he’d bring some of my clothes from my place here. That way I can–can change in the morning before I leave.”
Nodding, you wiped your hand across your cheeks again. It was a moment later that you realized you hadn't spoken. 
"Sorry, I nodded," you muttered.
"I know," he whispered. "I could hear the way the molecules in the air shifted when you did."
You winced, suddenly uncertain what all Matt had always known that you weren't aware of. But yet again you tried to focus on your current situation instead. It didn't matter he knew you liked him, he'd always just wanted to be your friend instead. You’d cry about it later, when he wasn’t lying on your couch bleeding.
"I'll go call Fog," you informed him. "Get him to bring over your clothes. You can stay here tonight, Matt. You know I'll always be here for you. I've always told you that." Curling your hands into fists, you tried to stop the way they had begun shaking. "I'm going to get a washcloth, though. To clean your cuts. If that's alright?"
Matt nodded, his head turning as he focused on you across the room again. "Yes," he replied quietly. "Thank you."
Chewing your lip, you turned and headed down the hall to your bathroom. You switched on the light and made your way over to the vanity, bending down and pulling out a clean washcloth from under it. Rising to your feet, you set it on the counter before slipping your phone out of your pocket and dialing Foggy. It took a few rings before he finally answered, and for some reason the sound of his voice greeting you with your name had you crying again. 
"Hey, Fog," you said, voice cracking.
"Shit, are you okay?" he asked in a panic. "Did something happen? You sound like you're crying. Why’re you crying?”
Your eyes slowly slid up towards your bathroom mirror, taking in the sight of your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked awful.
"I know Matt is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen," you breathed out. 
There was a long pause on the line after you'd spoken, the silence eventually broken by Foggy muttering a curse.
"Where are you?" he asked. 
"At home. Elektra dropped him off injured on my couch," you told him, your voice breaking as you spoke.
"I'll be right there," he promised.
"He wants you to bring him a change of clothes," you said, watching as more tears slid down your reflection's cheeks. 
"I'm on it," he assured you. "But we are definitely talking later when we're out of his hearing range."
"Yeah," you whispered. "We definitely are."
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the-desilittle-bird · 8 months
Text
AN- I am back after my long writer block. Here is a little preference for you all...
Requests are Open and Well Appreciated!
Thank you and Enjoy your reading.
HOTD Preferences
You Are a Foreign Deligate
Characters - Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Otto Hightower, Corlys Velaryon, Cregan Stark and Criston Cole
Warnings - Angst for Criston (given that he is a King's Guard)
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Daemon 'Rogue Prince' Targaryen
You are a visiting foreign delegate from the Free Cities and went to Westeros in order to establish good relations between the two places.
You and Daemon met far too later after your arrival.
You met the King's brother during the feast held in order to honour the new relations; and you were the guest of honour for the evening.
His long hair of silver catch your eyes and you were enchanted by his looks.
Viserys was the one to introduce you and you two hit it almost instantly.
While you were completely spellbound by his voice, Daemon found your intelligence extremely eye-catching.
At the end of the evening, if the prince feels quite giving, you will be spared a rare dance or two.
Or you would be sharing a cup or two of wine with him, in his room or in some tavern of Flea Bottom.
It is safe to say that he becomes obsessed with you till the end of your trip.
One fine morning, a few days before your departure back to Essos, you are informed that you will return to your place; but with an extra person.
Your marriage to Daemon was shipped on the point of strengthening the alliance, but everyone knew better...
Aemond 'One-Eyed' Targaryen
You were from Qarth and were sent by the Thirteen to secure a safe trade route. It was during the time when the King was disappointingly sick and the Queen and Hand of the King held the throne in his stead.
It was the time of extreme peace, every person in the harbour discussed quietly.
You were quite excited but also extremely nervous. You wondered what would happen if you failed to complete the task given to you.
You met the young prince when he received you at the port of King's Landing.
Despite his quietness, you were completely mesmerized by his commanding aura and killer looks.
It takes long period of time of observing you from a far on Aemond's part before he decides to talk to you.
The talk would start formally before he starts asking you about your country.
The entire conversation would be pleasant and you would be smitten at the end.
Maybe even fantasizing a life with him.
You two would met during the Council meets where Alicent makes him sit with his drunken brother. No wonder that Aegon will flirt and will end up being punched by Aemond.
A few days later, expect the One-Eyed Prince proposing you in the name of 'a way to strengthen the bonds'.
Otto 'Hand of the King' Hightower
This man has lost his wife and has plenty of kids, while you are a young and bright assistant of sorts to the visiting delegate.
You are feisty and know your way around the formalities well.
Otto notices you when you punch one of his family's knight after the knight made some comment on you.
Even though he was clear to show his disappointment to you, he kept the interest brimming in him inside his head.
Suddenly, he asks for your opinion and sometimes, catches you on your walk around the garden.
The Queen also warms up to you, surprisingly, and invites you to tea.
While you like the attention, you are confused.
And hence, you confront him.
Otto is nervous as heck. And starts blabbering along the lines of 'I know that you might not like me...' and 'We are born ages apart...'
And as much as you found him enduring, you wanted for him to shut up.
And so, you slam your lips to his.
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Corlys 'Sea Snake' Velaryon
You aren't exactly a delegate but more of his friend who knows the rules of the sea.
You arrive at Westeros with him and are ushered quickly to the Small Council's chamber in order to discuss a safe route for trading.
You were quick to realize that no one in the Council knew about the pirates or literally any other threats of sea.
You were ready to interrupt the Hand of the King but before you could, the Sea Snake does.
You are surprised by his understanding of the sea.
When Corlys is done, he settles back into his seat with a smirk as his eyes find yours.
He approaches you later after the meeting is over and you two end up flirting quite a lot.
Days pass with both of you sharing your experiences.
And you end up kissing him one fine day after having enough of his teasings.
He was smug about it. But at last, ends up proposing you.
And you two end up marrying on the shores of Driftmark with only a few close friends.
Cregan 'Wolf of the North' Stark
The Lord of Winterfell was surprised to receive a raven informing him to prepare for the arrival of the king and a foreign delegate from Meereen.
That was quite unusual, but Cregan could done nothing to object.
When you arrive alongside the King, he was left completely spellbound.
Your wits and broad thoughts intrigue and so does your beauty.
Also, you aren't afraid of drinking with the vassal lords or dancing with the common ladies.
At end of a fortnight, he is completely and utterly in love with you. And you do notice.
But you wait for him to approach you.
But you hadn't expected a marriage proposal at the very beginning.
That is when you decide to approach him for a conversation.
The entire conversation was pleasant.
And at the end you decide to accept the proposal.
Criston 'Kingmaker' Cole
You notice him first when you met the Queen and you were completely infatuated, to be honest.
But your first ever conversation happened days after, on a feast.
You weren't quite accustomed to loud celebrations and quietly slips out of there unnoticed.
You see him there and somehow gather the courage to make small talks to him.
You find him a man of great morals, even if they were twisted in their own way.
That conversation sparked the flames of love in Criston's cold heart.
You try to keep whatever it is between you two a secret, given his position as a member of King's Guard.
And soon, the day for you to leave came.
You had asked him to come with you, only for him to reason with you.
At last, you part ways, grieving whatever you had.
Doubting whether it was even true.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
Note
What if yan emperor was engaged to someone that wasn’t jester? Like his parents set up a marriage with someone else, that hates the jester for “having a affair” with the emperor???
Cold water splashes in your face, the juggling pins in your hands clatter to the floor in front of the culprit. The emperor's betrothed stands before you, shooting you a hateful glare that sends chills frostier than the one's already through you. Several gasps come from the audience, all festivities halted.
"Stay away from my king, your harlot."
Today had been the emperor's birthday; many coming from far and wide to celebrate. Unbeknownst to you, he absolutely hated the day. The year you came into this life was the first one he enjoyed as it was the day your trope came into town and you became friends.
By the next year, the day soon approached and you didn't know what to get him. You had money from chores you did around the castle, and coins the prince would sneak to you. He didn't seem too interested in material things, but you wanted to do something for him.
It was on the day before his birthday that you found what you thought would be a decent gift. It was a little pierrot doll. Lips painted with the same red as the red balls on its white and black shirt, and collar. A rosy blush tinted it's cheeks and a cone hat sat atop its head; beady little eyes and vertical lines through them making up the rest of its face. It was one of the cutest things you had ever seen, and almost reminded you of your old home. Though you didn't know all about the prince's likes, you knew he valued your friendship like no other.
"It's almost like me!" Was your excuse when you gave it to him. "I noticed you seemed kinda down when we're apart, so I bought this so you could remember me by."
The young prince just stares at the doll. You start to panic.
"Ah, I realized that makes me sound a little full of myself when I say it out loud. I'll take it back and-"
"No."
You're taken aback by the authority in his voice. "Huh?"
He hugs the doll to his chest, the first smile in days cross his face. "It's atrocious. I love it."
-
Every birthday after, you'd get him a new doll. As you got older, you bought other things, but the dolls were always the icing on the cake. One of your birthdays, he even had a jester doll custom made, but it spent a majority of its lifespan in your room rather than his.
This year was the same as before. The emperor was surrounded in a mountain of presents from gold to self portraits, but the only time he truly smiled was when he saw your gift; angering his betrothed to the point they could kill you.
The couple were set to be engaged when the emperor was in his early teens, much to his disappointment. It was around that time that he released his love for you. He had dreams some nights of just running away with you, and on others- killing his further spouses entire bloodline.
They were some noble who's family his father had been acquitted with. It was love at first sight, but he never noticed nor cared. They tried with all their might to get his attention, failing at every turn. It was when they saw that little pierrot and the jester on his bed that they finally realized what was going on.
"What is going on here?!"
The emperor pushes through the small crowd; eyes already full of fury. They soften as they fall upon you, the water soaking your outfit. He'd raise hell on whoever did this to you; finding the culprit rather easily - glass still in their hand.
"What did you do to them?" He roars.
They scoff. "Don't humor me. I know this one is the one you're sleeping with it. To think you'd mess around with a literal fool. Do you take me for one as well?"
"That isn't true, your majesty. " You meekly announce. "He is my closest friend..."
Your words stake daggers into the emperor's heart; a betrayal worse than physical tearing the organ out. He had a few advances in the past, but they were shut down by his parents and obvious to you. They warned that if he continued, he'd never see you again. He grabs your wrist.
"Come on.. We're leaving."
His betrothed tries to step between you. "Where are you going? We aren't done talking!"
"They need to change before they get sick. I'll deal with you later. Try to stop me again, and you won't like the consequences."
They shrink under his threatening tone. Shoving through the muttering crowd, the emperor drags you along to your room. He slams the door shut as an outlet for his rage, causing you to jump. His demeanor quickly changes as he hurts to you, pulling the cap from your head and cupping your face in his gloved palm.
"Are you alright, Y/n?"
"Yes, just cold. You should get back to the party."
He frowns. You always gave up your wellbeing for the sake of others, he couldn’t stand it. He reaches for your collar, having to stop himself before he undressed you with his own hands. He scolded himself for even thinking about it, his mind on autopilot when it came to you.
"I'll wait for you outside. Let me know when you're ready."
"Is.. it alright if I retire for the night?"
He sucks in a breath. "That's fine. I'll check on you in the morning."
You hug him, neither minding the dampness of your clothes as he hugs you back.
"I hope you repair everything with your spouse. I'd hate to end the day on such a sour note."
He places his face into the crook of your neck. You're going to kill him with how much desire you sent him. A want that's become a need he'll someday have to have or he'll perish at your feet.
You pull away, much to his sadness, sticking your fingers to the corners of his mouth and pulling them upwards.
"And smile more for God's sake. You'll get wrinkly like your old man if you don't."
You drop your joking tough voice with a laugh, warming the pits of his stomach. He holds a small smile as you drop your hands. You always knew what to do to make him shine.
"Goodnight, Y/n."
The emperor exits your room. Instead of returning to that party, or that demon, he slinks down against your door and reaches into his pocket; pulling out the newest doll in his growing collection. It's the first time in forever that he's alone on his birthday night.
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raparopa · 1 year
Note
Hey there :) I hope you’re having a great day :) please could I request headcanons for hotd characters where they find their crush drunk after a banquet and when she sees them she runs up to them and says I’m in love with you 💙💙
a/n: I didn't die (thanks for the request 🫀)
warnings: alcohol, femslash
drunk confessions
daemon targaryen
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He perfectly saw what condition you were in, but unfortunately, he missed the moment when you disappeared from the hall. At first, he simply tried to find you with his eyes from his place, but when he realized that you were not there, he simply put down his glass and went to look for you along the corridors. And he was lucky to find you on the very first couch, in a state where you were already catching little invisible dragons above your head. He just chuckled as he knelt down in front of you.
-Y/N…
-Daemon!- you yelled, immediately throwing yourself on his neck, and almost knocking him onto his back. -It's you! I love you so much! Do you know how much I love you? More life! (approximately this is what you said, if you translate from a drunken language)
- Of course you do, lassy. I would have expected something else. - Daemon just said, dragging your drunk, screaming love messages, body to the chambers.
criston cole
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He did not leave your side throughout the entire banquet, but still, you managed to slip away unnoticed to the balcony, taking a jug of wine with you) and he caught himself too late. The knight found you on the floor, leaning back against the partition, hugging the jug.
- Milady, I think you're a little drunk. Let me help you. -He barely lifted you to your feet when your eyes cleared for a moment and you saw who was in front of you.
-Help me with the power of your love, oh incredible knight ... After all, my love for you is limitless!- you shouted, which made Criston, of course, pleased, and his ears even turned pink, but at the same time he wanted to fall through the ground.
-Shhhhh...Y/N, don't shout...
-But I want to scream about my feelings, my life, my soul,-you purred, grabbing his cheeks.
- It can be done not where half the kingdom has gathered, dear lady.
aemond targaryen
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I certainly doubt very much that he would let you drink yourself unconscious, but oh well. Let's imagine that you really managed to outdrink his brother and were now looking for adventure on the... head. And you would have found them if you had not been grabbed by the hand and dragged in another direction, past the adventure.
- What are you doing, my lady? How much did you drink?-Aemond asked, almost worried, holding your shoulders to keep you on your feet. -Y/N, dear, please tell me something.
You blinked a couple of times, noticed the silver sheen of your hair.
-I can only say that I love you, my prince. This is the most important thing that can happen right now. -You grumbled as you fell into his arms. He froze. Did you only say that because you were drunk? Because he was a little angry because of your behavior? Why you… You snorted something, kissed him on the cheek, and began to sniff again, hanging on him like a squirrel collar. And his heart stopped. Okay, he'll deal with it tomorrow. Now it is important that you do not fall asleep in the garden.
aegon targaryen
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Guys, I know you got drunk together. But do not underestimate his merits! His experience is much greater than yours. So, if he could still connect words into sentences, then we communicated in separate words with an interval of several minutes. He didn’t have to look for you anywhere, since you both sat down in some corner with a wine supply, emptying the bottles. And while he was complaining about his life to you, you were just tired. Your body has already ceased to obey you, there was not enough air from the corset, and all you wanted to do was sleep. But you did not find anything soft, except for Aegon's shoulder, so it was decided to lie down there. Your head fell helplessly on his shoulder, and for some reason you decided that it would be great to take his hand. -
I love you.-You muttered, drifting off to sleep.
-What? What did you say?-He sobered up.-Hey, Y/N, what did you just say?-Aegon was scared that he didn't hear you or misinterpreted your words. He shook his shoulder, hoping to get an answer out of you, but you did not respond, seeing the hundredth dream.
-Hey Y/N!- he leaned over to make sure you were probably playing him, but seeing that you were asleep made him almost cry at the absurdity of the situation.
And what should he do now?
alicent hightower
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-Come, dear, it's time to rest. -she gently led you into the room, making sure that you did not run into the column. - I think we should give up this type of wine for a while. It's too strong for such holidays. - Alicente giggled, and you echoed her laughter, holding onto the wall. When you finally passed the corridor and ended up in your bed, the Queen kindly helped you get rid of all the things that prevented you from sleeping.
-I hope you'll be in good health tomorrow.- She ran her hand through your hair.
-Me t-too… Your Majesty,- you giggled again. What have I done to deserve your love?
- With your love, Y/N. Rest.
lucerys velaryon
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Nothing. Both of you just got drunk, as if you were seeing alcohol for the first time, secretly from your mothers, and fell asleep two meters from the door on top of each other. 🐻
jacaerys velaryon
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-JACAERYS!- You yelled as soon as he appeared from around the corner. He stopped in amazement, not understanding what was happening. You rushed to him, jumping into his arms, causing Jace to spin in place, with you in his arms.
-Y/N, where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere. - he said, returning you to the ground. Your eyes sparkled, you smiled slyly.
-Walked.
He blinked several times, peering into your face.
- Are you drunk?
-NOT AT ALL! ONLY IF FROM LOVE TO YOU! -You burst out laughing, grabbing his hands and happily showering his face with small kisses.
- Oh gods, Y/N ... - the prince was embarrassed, trying to hide a smile. - You drank... “
-Oh no!- you screamed theatrically, pouting your lips in resentment. -My prince is in doubt because of my love!- Is he really sure that I don’t love him at all!?
- I didn't say that. I just assumed. - Jacaerys was embarrassed, slightly squeezing your hand. - This does not mean that I do not love you. Quite the opposite. You smiled happily, again drowning him in kisses.
rhaenyra targaryen
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She was standing on the balcony, breathing in the cool air, when you crept up behind and hugged her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder. You slightly swayed from drunk alcohol.
-Y/N. - she grinned, stroking your hands a little. - What are you doing here? I thought you were having fun today in the company of wine. - she pricked. You muttered something unhappily, which made Rhaenyra laugh.
-I prefer the company of my beloved heiress. - you answered, feeling your tongue tangle.
-Really? Can I take this as a kind of recognition?
-Well, of course. I can say this tens of thousands of times until you are sure my princess. But, only when the company of good wine will let me go.
She laughed again, intertwining your fingers.
- I love you too, Y/N.
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lvrmoons · 1 year
Text
When they say something hurtful (part 2)
It had been over a year since your bad break up with Atsumu. Thankfully, you successfully avoided him for that entire year and had no contact with him. When you first realized he had no intention of apologizing or contacting you again, you were beyond hurt, but it turned to anger, and later acceptance. You were quite satisfied with your life now, although sometimes still longing for Atsumu to be by your side again, but you knew that would never happen. 
Or that’s what you thought. 
You coincidentally bumped into him at the convenience store and he awkwardly asked you for some of your time. You agreed, wondering what he was going to say after all this time. So here you two were, outside a small, quiet cafe, with barely any people around. 
“Um... I don’t know where to start but I guess I should apologize first.. Y/n- you do not know how sorry I am. I keep thinking bout that night and how awful I was to ya. I wanted to apologize straight away. Seriously. But I knew you deserved someone much better than me. I know I’m prideful and stubborn and I’ve been working on that. And when I finally reasoned with myself to at least apologize to you instead of just letting you go, you already blocked me... I know I’ll never get the chance to be by your side again, but I hope you’ll accept my sincerest apologies for hurting you.” He tried keeping eye contact with you but ended up staring at the table in between you. You kept quiet for a while as Atsumu sweated buckets from thee awkwardness and nervousness.
“..You know... If you had ran out of the house that night and told me to come back, I would have dropped my bags and come running into your arms.” He finally looked up at you. “And it seems I would do the same even now..” You said, smiling softly at him. He stared at you in shock and you became shocked to when you saw the tears forming in his eyes. 
“A-are you ok??” You ask, standing up and hurrying next to him. 
He hugged you waist and buried his head into your stomach. 
“Thank you. So so much. I seriously don’t deserve you and I promise to treat you like the princess/prince you are.” 
Your face softened as you got reminded of how much you loved this boy. The both of you were held in each others embrace for a while before deciding to go back to his home, your home. 
________
It had been 3 days since that last argument and you still weren’t home yet. Suna, who thought you would come back after a day, became frantic as his calls went straight to voicemail and his messages weren’t going through. He even tried contacting you through social media but was left on delivered. After the third day, he finally found your friend’s contact and called her.
When the friend said you were hit by a car and was now at XXX hospital on the verge of death, he thought it was a prank, Your way of getting back at him. But when he got to the hospital and saw the IVs running through your arm, a cast on your leg, and lots of big patches on your face, his heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as he slowly and hesitantly made his way over to you. His trembling hand just barely grazed your face before he immediately pulled it back. He dropped onto the chair next to your bed and rested his head on his hands trying to stop himself from crying. He couldn’t believe you were on the verge of death, he spent his last moments with you arguing and he wouldn’t accept that. 
You were awoken by the sound of Suna’s crying and you turned your head to see a disheveled Suna. Crying.
Oh how you wished you could take a picture, but you knew exactly how he felt, no thanks to his vicious “prank”.
“Rin..” You whispered. His head shot up faster than you could blink and was by your side in half a second. 
“Y/n.. I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you. I don’t know what I was thinking pulling that prank. I can’t imagine how you felt. Please... please don’t leave me.” He held your hand as he pressed it against his tear-stained face. 
You didn’t say anything as you wanted him believing that you were dying for a little while longer. 
After a few minutes of silence, he finally looked at you and you were smiling. 
“I accept your apology. But seriously, if you do something like that again, I will actually leave you.”
“I promise I won’t.” He whispered.
“Good. But you know, you still haven’t asked me if I’m ok.” You say
“Are you ok??” he asked, concern written all over his face. 
“Yea actually. You just got pranked! OHHHH” you said laughing.
You could see the concern wiping off his face. He dropped your hand and started walking away. 
“Wait Wait! Come back, I’m just kidding.” You call out still laughing a little. He turned to you and rolled his eyes before making his way over to you again. 
“I actually did get hit by a car, but it didn’t hit me too hard. I’m actually getting discharged today if you’re willing to wait with me.”
“... What about your leg..” He asked staring at your cast.
“Oh, that I did break. But it could be worse.” you shrug.
“y/n.. please care about yourself more. I don’t want any part of you to be hurt.” He said. “And I promise not to hurt you in the future. Ever.”
“Well, you better keep that promise forever because that’s how long I’ll be by your side.”
“Always. I love you so much.”
“I love you more.”
_________
You anger had subsided after a few days but rethinking the words he said to you still made you feel hurt. But instead of isolating yourself and drowning in your sorrows, you knew you had to talk to Oikawa. After all, communication is key. Over the few days after the fight, Oikawa left you alone and he knew to just give you space and time to think. So you were the first to call. 
You asked him to come over and in just a few minutes. He was already outside your door. When you opened it, the first thing you noticed was that he was still in his practice uniform and he was sweating a lot. 
“Were you at practice?” you ask the seemingly obvious.
“Yea- But I came over as soon as you called,” he said, catching his breath.
“Go shower first, you smell.” You say leaving him at the door and sitting at the kitchen table. He nodded and quickly went to the bathroom, not wanting to keep you waiting. When he came back it was silent. 
“Look, I just thought it would be better for us to talk and stuff instead of letting the situation sit and hurt both of us,” you say breaking the awkward tension. 
“Thanks, for calling me over. I’ve been wanting to sincerely apologize and I’ve been thinking about it every day. I know what I did was unforgivable and I know the chances of you allowing me to continue being your partner is low but the selfish part of me wants you to take me back. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said that day but I know being angry and annoyed isn’t any excuse to say those things so I truly apologize. Like you said to me before, high school is only a part of your life, you still have so much time to figure out what you love and to set goals. I realize that now, I should spend more time with my loved ones since volleyball will always be there but who knows when I’ll lose you. Um, yeah, thank you so much for always being there for me, and I hope you find someone who deserves you.” He starts standing up before you even had a chance to talk. 
“Sit your ass back down right now.” You say glaring at him. He sat down immediately. “Why do you keep talking like we’ve already broken up?”
“I- um-”
“To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to say when I called you over, but I don’t want to break up. From what you said, you pretty much understood my feelings without me even telling you. I just hope you won’t use my insecurities as an advantage in arguments. And you need to stop beating yourself so hard when it comes to volleyball. And I’ll always be here for you when your down so you can vent but don’t get mad at me. That’s all, I think.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you though. Really, I swear I’ll treat you better and that’s not just an empty promise.”
You chuckle, “I believe you. I love you so much Tooru.”
“Thank you for loving me when I don’t deserve it. I will forever be yours.” 
738 notes · View notes
mlove44lh · 6 months
Text
Don't hurt yourself
Chapter 8 - Redemption
Masterlist
Previously chapter
Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of loss
Words: 9,247
there are probably some mistakes in the translation. I'm a bit rusty. Soryy
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“I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said "Nothing real can be threatened." True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we're gonna heal. Me and you.”
Day 0
“I've dreamt about this for so long that I cannot even recall when this idea first took root within me.
I've memorized and held in my mind every tiny detail of this day. I've spent hours envisioning how it would unfold, researching without even having someone in mind to share this dream with.
And yet, even with all the planning and rehearsing every step in my mind for this perfect day, I never anticipated it would be as perfect as this.
The sky is clear and without clouds. And even though the wind is present, it's almost imperceptible on my skin, even with my arms uncovered.
Just for this weather in the middle of November, I could already consider this day a miracle, as evidence of a love that will be eternal and is already perfect.
The veil gently sways around me. I catch a glimpse of my guests through the sheer fabric that surrounds me. I know I have all my family and friends present, and I'm overjoyed that everyone is finally gathered. But I couldn't look at anyone else now except my future husband, who awaits me at the altar with a smile that assures me everything will be okay in our new life together.
And I believe him with a confidence I didn't know existed within me.
His dark eyes shine like never before, a privilege I've never witnessed. I know I grip my father's arm with a certain strength, but I need to feel the tension in my fingertips at least to prove to myself that I am still alive, and this is not a dream.
What reassures me is knowing that, even though I am a dreamer, I could never fantasize about such perfection.
It's as if my entire life has led up to this moment.”
Day 2,520
I waited for something. Something big, like in the movies. Something that would make me change, that would make everything fall into place perfectly so we could leave it all behind.
Even after all that, I waited. After the disrespect, after hearing from the mouth of the most despicable person I've ever known all the horrible things he was capable of doing, after being called scandalous for a behavior I know was unforgivable. Even after all of that, I waited for something.
But that something never came.
Real life is cruel, and these kinds of things don't happen. Sometimes what seems real is indeed real; sometimes the one pulling the trigger is the same person who vowed to protect you. And this kind of betrayal is the worst of all.
I was forced to stop believing in my personal fairy tale when the prince charming drove a knife into my chest.
I was yanked out of my perfect life, and the jolt was so strong that I don't know how I survived.
I look at my ring finger and even though the wedding ring is no longer here, the mark will probably last for a long time, as a visual reminder of all this.
The room is cold, and I feel his gaze on me, which makes the feeling of suffocation even bigger. My gaze remains low; this is the last place I want to be.
The door opens and the silence is cut by the mediator who introduces himself and then sits down between the four of us.
My heart races as I realize what is about to happen.
"We can begin the hearing."
Day 365
"I didn't think it could get any better after we got married, but I've never been so happy to be wrong.
The year has flown by, and all our time together has been precious. Even though Lewis isn't always present, when we're together, it feels like all the challenges of jet-lags and sleepless nights become insignificant.
One of his hands blocks my vision while the other guides me gently by the waist. I feel Lewis laughing behind me, while I become more restless than ever.
The hustle and bustle of London is miles behind us. Lewis drove, which is unusual since I'm usually the one behind the wheel.
I have no idea what I'll find here, so I eagerly await the revelation I've been waiting for hours.
"You know I hate surprises."
"I know. But you're going to like this one." He stops walking but keeps his hand over my eyes.
"It's our first wedding anniversary. It had to be something big."
"Something big?! Lewis, I got you a watch."
"And I loved my new Rolex. And this gift isn't exactly just for you; it's for both of us.”
Lewis removes his hand from my eyes; it takes me a few seconds to adjust to the brightness. The sunlight illuminates a large field surrounded by greenery. The weather is chilly, but the sunlight makes everything seem warm and cozy.
In the midst of two tall trees stands a house with a white-painted facade. Windows adorn the front of the house, along with some flowers planted around the residence.
It's a beautiful, delicate home, large enough for a family to live in, yet not so grand as to be intimidating. It's the perfect refuge for a lifetime, surrounded by the people you love.
I spend a few seconds observing the facade. Lewis steps away from my side and comes in front of me. His smile is huge, and I can tell by his expression that he's waiting for me to say something. But I wouldn't know what to say when I don't even know what I'm looking at now.
"What do you think?" His expectation implicit in his words.
"Lewis...” It can't be this, he can't have just bought a new house for us. “What is this?"
"Wait. I want you to see inside."
His hand fits into mine, and Lewis practically drags me inside. My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think straight now. This is so much more than I expected.
The living room is spacious, and the wooden beams make everything cozier. The furniture is already arranged, and it's as if they've taken every detail from one of my dreams.
"There's a pool outside." He opens the large glass door, revealing more outdoor space. “We can put a big table here for when we have guests.”
His words come out quickly, like an excited child with something new, his eyes shining like two stars as Lewis divides his gaze from me to the entire house. He doesn't take long to return with his hand in mine, leading me to the second floor of the residence.
The master bedroom adopts a lighter tone than the rest of the house, covered in wood. The white paint on the walls makes the room even more spacious. Everything looks clean and new.
"You really did this?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper, and I then feel the urge to cry that hits me. “Lewis, it's perfect.”
"It's ours," he says. His voice is lower compared to minutes ago; the excitement seems to have eased. "I planned over the last year."
"This is... I'm speechless. It's perfect. But how would we do this? I mean, with our work and everything else."
It would be madness to move to the countryside from London at a time like this, even though it feels like a dream.
"I may have anticipated things a little. But we can come in a few years. This could be the house where we'll grow old together and raise our kids. It's the perfect place. We just have to wait a bit, and in the meantime, we can come whenever we want some time alone. 45 minutes from London and no neighbors for a few blocks sounds good, right?"
I can only smile. The idea of having a family by your side and growing old together is still something that can truly move me.
"Yes. It sounds perfect."
He smiles.
"Come on, I want to show you one last thing."
I can barely take in the details of the room before being pulled again.
Lewis opens the door to the room next to ours; unlike the others, this room has no furniture. A large window is situated in the middle of one of the walls, illuminating every corner of the room. I stand still at the door while Lewis finally calms down behind me.
"There are two more rooms like this, still empty." I feel the excitement within me as soon as I realize where Lewis is going. "We'll set them up together, at the right time. For our children. Let's fill this house with happiness, Y/n."
I turn to him, and I feel some tears escaping from my eyes. I couldn't be happier about this surprise.
I press our lips into a kiss that takes a while to break, just so I can speak before returning to him.
"This is all I want.”
"There are no children in common between the couple, and the divorce seems to be agreed upon by both parts. If there is no impasse with the last proposed agreement, I believe there is no need to extend this hearing."
‘Divorce. Agreement. Both parts.’ It looks as bad as it sounds. How could there be agreement on something as painful and profound as this? That's not what happens, I'm not here because I want to, I'm here because I need to be here, I'm here because I owe it to myself and the part that died inside me. I owe this as justice to the girl who believed so much in fairy tales. So no, there is no agreement whatsoever with this situation.
I glance at my lawyer and gesture to speak with him, but it doesn't become necessary. His throat clearing draws the attention of the few people in the room.
The proposed divorce agreement in the document I left with Lewis that morning was denied, as were the other two made by my lawyer. It seems there was some kind of impasse between what Lewis desired and what his representatives sought.
So, I waited for the counterproposal, and when it came, I tried to come to terms with it. There was much more for me than I asked for in the previous agreements, and much less than what I could receive if I had the slightest interest in a legal battle. The perfect agreement between a remorseful man who thinks money buys karma and the lawyers protecting his empire.
But overall, it wasn't that bad, except for one detail.
"There is a disagreement from my client regarding the agreement proposed by Mr. Hamilton."
They look at us with curiosity. Lewis raises his gaze full of doubt, which meets mine.
"And what would that be?" The mediator settles into his chair, leaning towards us.
I could vomit if I had ingested anything. I wish I could just accept anything proposed and leave right away. But I don't want to leave with anything other than what already belongs to me, and I certainly have no interest in something that would keep me tied to Lewis in any way.
I know this is another thing I shouldn't do. Especially if the hypothesis in my mind proves to be true. But I don't care anymore; I have every right to use the shell of a bad person at least once.
I have the right to escape from him.
"My client is no longer interested in the shares related to Mr. Hamilton's companies. As well as the residence in London. We would like to present a counterproposal, where the shares would be transferred back, and the house would be entirely in his name, if there is agreement, of course."
I watch my lawyer pass new papers to the mediator, who carefully examines each one.
I want to disappear from his life in every way possible; I won't heal if I don't distance myself from him. Continuing with the shares in my name would put me in moments like this. Trapped at a meeting table with him by my side. And the house would only remind me of everything that never was. I don't even want to drive past it, even though it's a new residence; it's infested with ghosts for me.
"What?!" Lewis diverts everyone's attention, even from the mediator, who is still examining the papers in front of him. "What are you talking about? These shares are rightfully yours, Y/n. We earned this together." Hearing his voice in person after so many weeks makes me want to cry.
"Mr. Hamilton, please. Only your lawyer has the right to speak at this moment, okay?" The mediator's voice becomes slightly louder to draw Lewis's attention.
There's a lot of disbelief in his gaze, while mine overflows with sorrow.
If only it were just businesses and numbers, the only things we conquered together, all of this would be infinitely easier.
"Don't do this. The shares are yours too, you know that."
Lewis completely ignores the mediator and continues speaking directly to me. His gaze reveals pleading, as if he's seeking redemption and the only way to achieve it is to ensure I end up with millions in shares.
It's tempting. But we're talking about a woman with a wounded ego and immense pride. So, thanks, but no.
"Mr. Hamilton, please."
The mediator seems a bit nervous. Meanwhile, his lawyer becomes restless and leans in to speak with Lewis.
"If she's giving up willingly, you should consider it. We're not talking about something small, Lewis." His lawyer's voice is low, but within this tiny room and with everyone else silent, it would be impossible not to hear his words.
Lewis still looks at me, and I still look at him. I haven't opened my mouth to respond to him, and I don't intend to. All I want is to leave this place soon with what I want, or rather, what I don't want.
"I don't care about that." Lewis responds to his lawyer, but still looking at me. I could even say there's a hint of anger in his expression, if only I still knew this person in front of me.
Day 1,397
“Waking up to the smell of coffee at home is one of my favorite things because I know when it happens, he's home. And it couldn't be any different; he promised me he would be.
My arms wrap around him as soon as I find him in the kitchen. His bare torso is warm and makes me feel at home like nothing else ever came close to achieving.
His hands hand me a cup of coffee, and our lips come together in a kiss full of the longing that seems never to go away, no matter how close we are.
"How is it possible for someone who hates coffee to make the best coffee I've ever had in my life?!"
Lewis laughs before placing his hands on my waist.
"You say that because you're in love with me and like everything I do. Literally, everyone who's had my coffee didn't like it."
"That's because they don't know how to appreciate the strongest coffee that has ever entered their system." Laughter echoes through the apartment. "But seriously, honey, as much as I love it, you have to go easy on the amount of grounds. I could stay awake for days if I had more than one cup in the morning."
His hands tighten around my waist enough to make me sigh. I place my mug with the hot liquid on the counter and soon bring my hands back to his bare back.
I see the smile fading from his face, replaced by a serious expression.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking."
"Want to share that?"
"I'm not sure you'll like the idea very much." A shy smile returns to his lips and my curiosity rises. "I know that wasn't the plan. But I can't stop thinking about it."
His eyes are no longer in contact with mine.
"Come on. Tell me."
"Well." He seems anxious, perhaps genuinely concerned about my reaction. "I think, maybe. If you want. We could start trying to expand the family."
My smile drops.
Not because I don't want this, but because I want it so bad that just the idea of Lewis also wanting it even before what was planned between us makes my stomach churn with happiness. I don't know if it's because of Lewis's strong coffee or my excitement, but suddenly I become aware of my accelerated heartbeat.
"I mean. If you still want to wait, we can. I know you have your work, and..."
"No!" I interrupt his train of thought. "I just wasn't expecting that right now." I have to think about the words before I can say them. "Lewis. Are you serious?"
I pull his face back to mine and force him to look at me. We are so close to each other that Lewis must be able to feel my own heartbeat against his chest.
"I've been thinking about this for a while. I know we agreed to wait until after Formula 1, to move to London and start our family. But I don't think I'm going to retire anytime soon, and I want a family with you now. And I know it will be crazy to have a child in the middle of all the travels and chaos of our life, but..." His smile grows even wider. "It will be our child, right?! If there's someone who could handle all of this, it's him. Or her."
My excitement is so overwhelming that I can hardly think of anything to say.
I know my eyes overflow with happiness and emotion, and I see Lewis's eyes mirroring the same.
I pull him closer to me, pressing against him with no desire to let him go anywhere.
"You know how much I want this." I pull him into a kiss that ends up being a bit messy due to our excitement.
"Is that a yes?" Lewis separates us for a moment to speak.
"Of course!"
"We'll take a break so that Mr. Hamilton's lawyer can review the counterproposal and to calm things down a bit.”
I watch both of them stand up. Lewis leaves the room almost running, while his lawyer follows him with the new papers in hand. I feel numb, I need to tap my feet on the floor a few times to make sure I won't fall when I stand up.
“Y/n. Are you sure about the counterproposal?” Adam, my lawyer, turns his chair towards me. His voice is low even though there's no need for it. Since there's no one else in the room. “I know you have your reasons, but we're talking about over fifty million. That could become much more over the years. Giving it away like this to him could be a mistake. You could at least sell them.”
"No. I don't want anything more from him, Adam." His expression reveals what he doesn't say, which makes me feel the need to justify myself. "I'm not saying this just because I'm hurt, I'm saying this because I really want out of this, I don't want to deal with anything related to Lewis anymore. And I know it may sound crazy, but every penny coming from those shares would only make me feel even worse. So yes, I am positive about my decision."
"Alright. I understand." His compassionate look kills me. I turn away from his expression to avoid dealing with that pity stamped on his face. "I think they'll agree, there wouldn't be a reason to delay this any further."
"I hope so." I don't wait for a response, leaving Adam in his place and stepping out of the room in search of fresh air.
Day 1,716
"I promised I wouldn't disappoint myself this time. I thought it would be easier not to see what I wanted for the seventh consecutive time. But no. Every month, it just hurts more.
I stare at the small plastic object in my hand as I feel a lump in my throat.
A damn red line.
One. Just one.
I feel Lewis's arm around me and his face resting on my shoulder.
We started trying a few months ago. We knew that if we waited for the perfect moment, it would never come. We travel all the time, and Formula 1 takes up a good part of Lewis's life. Besides, it's a dangerous sport.
But the desire for our children proved to be so big that any potential problem seems microscopic in comparison. We have a serious relationship and stability, as well as plenty of willingness and love, what could be missing?!
So, I stopped taking the pills and waited for it to happen. But it didn't. Not in the first month, not in the second, it started to bother me in the third. But I didn't imagine it would reach the seventh unsuccessful attempt.
I try to contain myself and pretend to myself that everything is fine. We're young, we have plenty of time to make this happen. But the frustration is written all over my face.
"We can keep trying,” his voice comes out muffled because his face is resting on me. “It's the best part anyway,” he jokes.
A soft laugh escapes my lips.
“Yeah. Maybe next time, huh?”
I take the test out of my field of vision and look at Lewis. He adjusts his posture and nods while looking at me attentively.
Maybe he's waiting for some kind of outpouring, or even restrained tears. But there isn't any. Not because I'm not feeling sad, but because it wouldn't make sense right now. Especially when he's just minutes away from leaving home for another one of his countless work weekends. A tearful wife wouldn't be the best thing to leave on his mind before all the concentration needed for a Grand Prix.
“We could consult with a specialist if you want.”
He stands up and goes to his suitcase.
“No. I don't think it's necessary now.” My face betrays my words. The question of why a pregnancy hasn't happened yet has been weighing on my mind for months. “We can wait for some more time.”
He sighs.
“Alright.” His hands rest on the handle of his suitcase. “I have to go. Will you be okay?”
“If I say no, will you stay here with me?” Compassion fills his eyes, making me immediately regret what I just said. I truly wish he would give up work sometimes, but I would never ask him for that. Not wanting to be inconvenient, and already knowing the answer. “I'm kidding. Go, go save the world, number forty-four.”
“You're my world.” Lewis walks over to me and plants a kiss on my forehead. That makes me smile. “See you on Monday.”
I go down the dozens of stairs arranged in front of the court. I sit down on one of the steps before reaching the end of them.
The streets are bustling. It couldn't be different on a Tuesday morning. I try to focus on the lives of people swiftly passing by, hoping to distract myself from the lump in my throat.
There are so many things on my mind that I can't even concentrate on one of them. It's like a buzzing is taking over me, leaving no room for anything else. Neither my expectations for a new life, nor the object kept in my bag, nor the hypothesis that should be consuming me, nor my marriage dissipating while I watch it all, nor my exhaustion. None of this is enough to make me feel anything.
I notice his presence beside me through my peripheral vision. He sits down, leaving almost no space between us but without touching me. I don't move to look at him or to move away from his figure. I remain focused on the people walking in front of us, wishing at this moment to have the life of the lady strolling peacefully with her dog through the streets of Monaco.
"How did we get to this?"
Of all the things I expected to hear from Lewis after weeks of not talking, this would be the last of my assumptions.
I don't think much before responding to him.
“I don't know.” I feel his gaze on me, but I still don't turn to him. “I don't think it happened at a specific moment. If only we could attribute it to one exact thing, it would make things easier.”
I can hear his breath next to me; he seems shaken, restless in his place.
“Y/n, if I could go back and undo what I did...”
“It wouldn't change a thing.” I interrupt his speech. I couldn't bear to hear Lewis's lamentations, especially at a moment like this, where I'm so detached from my own self that I'm not even aware of my emotions. “Our marriage ended before you cheated me. It ended long before that, long before losing our child. It happened, I don't think it's a good idea to keep tormenting ourselves thinking about what could have been. Because it wasn't. Simple as that. We're here today.”
He stares at me; I know he's looking into my eyes, and from the position of his body leaning towards me, I can deduce that he longs for my reciprocity. But I don't want to, and I can't look at him right now. As much as all my instincts honed over these years are begging me to go towards him.
“What if we kept trying?" He doesn't even believe in his own words. The sentence comes out like a final sigh.
“We tried for a long time. But we gave up at some point. We kept giving up on small things until they turned into huge things.”
This is the end. I know that. I've had it in my mind for a long time, and I'm sure of this decision. But it should hurt less. I should at least have the ability to breathe or to face my — still — husband.
I don't feel my words coming. I just feel the need to say them, maybe because I need a conclusion. Or because I got used to sharing everything with him, and that's still something that needs to go away.
“I don't feel happy to be here today. Maybe I should have fought more, and you too. But despite that, I know this is the right decision. And even if you don't admit it, I know you agree with me. There's no point in thinking about what could have been done when, in the end, we're here today. And nothing will change that.”
Finally, I gather the courage to look at him. He looks like a complete stranger, a totally different person than he used to be.
His gaze, which was always the thing I loved most about him, now doesn't have the same effect on me. Everything about Lewis seems off. And even though I'm close to him, I don't feel him here.
The person by my side has become a stranger. I'm overwhelmed by grief for someone who is alive and in front of me but is nowhere near who they used to be.
I stare at him for a few seconds before speaking again.
“That's the only regret I have. This habit of deceiving ourselves, the complacency we let take over our marriage. Because if we had realized earlier, if we hadn't let it get to this point where we both ended up hurt, then I would remember all these years with immense happiness. But that's not what happens. I can't even look at you because it hurts so much.” I watch tears invade his eyes right in front of mine. I feel anger and regret at the same level. “And that's the part that kills me. Knowing that the best years of my life will be the most painful to remember.” Only when I stop to breathe do I realize that I'm also crying. I let the tears flow freely down my face as I continue my train of thought. “I don't know if this feeling will change. If with time, it will get better, all I know is what I'm feeling today and what I'm living today. And I've decided that from now on, this is what I'm going to focus on. The present.”
He doesn't say anything for some time.
We stare at each other without any intention whatsoever. There's nothing to be said that would make any difference.
“I'm sorry.” I barely recognize his voice, just like the rest of his being.
“I know. Me too.”
Day 2,125
“The notification sound on my phone breaks my focus from the TV program. I grab the device resting on the couch cushion and check the notification. As soon as I read the message, my boredom is replaced by another wave of hope, as it has been happening every month for over a year.
The notification arrived, and Lewis is home today, things that almost never happen at the same time. Maybe this is a sign that this month will finally be the one that works.
Everything is seen as a sign for a desperate woman.
I jump off the couch and head towards our bedroom.
Lewis is lying down, his attention fixed on the large TV, airing the same program I was watching in the living room. The realization leaves me confused, and even a little sad. Why would he prefer to stay away from me than do exactly the same thing he's doing here, next to me?!
I swallow my wounded ego and ignore the unpleasant feeling that this understanding left me. After all, what we need to do is much bigger than my tantrum.
I climb onto the bed and approach him. Lewis doesn't bother to move.
I straddle his lap without any difficulty. My kisses start on his lips and are instinctively reciprocated by him, but his hands remain inert. I grind on his lap in an attempt to stir something. Nothing.
I move my kisses towards his abdomen, and it's only at that moment that Lewis takes some action. Not the one I wanted, of course.
“Y/n. Love. Not today, okay?*
His hands come to me, not to enjoy more of my touch, but to stop me from continuing. This irritates me, but it doesn't prevent me from continuing. I return to his neck and distribute kisses on his skin, with no intention of giving up what I need.
“Come on. It'll be quick.”
I lower my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants while still showering him with kisses, but my movements are interrupted by him.
“Y/n, stop! I said no.” His voice is loud, which makes me stop immediately.
He moves away from me abruptly. Lewis gets up without any care for how he leaves me on the bed.
I feel embarrassed like never before, anger comes in the same dimension.
”Lewis, what the fuck?!”
“I'm tired of this shit. What do you think? That I'm a damn robot you can press a button and get whatever you want? That's ridiculous.”
“I thought you wanted this too.”
Lewis's breathing is audible; he's restless as he stares at me.
"And I want to, but not like this. When was the last time we had sex because we were horny, not because we're obligated to fuck every time your phone notifies you about your fertile period, Y/n?"
"I don't know, Lewis. I'm trying to get what both of us want here."
"Yes, you're trying that by becoming the coldest person on earth. What's the next step? Do you want me to come in a jar and hand it over to you?"
"That's actually a good idea. It would make things a lot easier."
Sarcasm slips out of me effortlessly. I feel anger rising in my body. And anxiety too.
"For God's sake!" He enters the bathroom but leaves the door open. I hear the running water from the tap for a few seconds before he speaks again.
"What the hell do you want, Lewis?!" My voice erupts in a scream.
He comes back quickly to stand in front of me.
“My wife!" He yells too. "That's what I want, Y/n. Can you bring her back?! Or has this obsession taken her away too?"
My frustration is so intense that I feel my throat burning with tears that want to fall. We've never shouted at each other, never fought like we are now. Everything feels like a horrible and senseless chaos.
"I had a terrible weekend. And you didn't even bother to ask how things are. I asked you to come with me to the Grand Prix, and you chose to stay here, probably to consult with another doctor to tell you exactly what all the others have said, if there's any other doctor left in Monaco that you haven't consulted. You're so blinded by this idea that you forgot to keep living your life."
A humorless laugh escapes my lips.
"Oh, poor little thing. You had a terrible weekend? I had a terrible year, Lewis! And I'm not crying because no one came to console me or anything like that. I'm trying to do what I should, what both of us want. You don't have the right to judge me for that." I get out of bed and walk towards the door. Frustrated and overwhelmed by guilt. Today could have been the day, but it wasn't. It wasn't because he didn't want it. "Grow up, Lewis. And if you want someone to pat you on the head, go find someone else, because it won't be me."
It's the last thing I say before slamming the door behind me.”
“I think we should go back inside.”
His voice breaks the silence between us, which has lingered for some time. We stopped talking minutes ago, but we didn't feel the need to move away from each other.
I think we both know that this is the last time we stay together like this. There's no guilt in wanting to prolong this moment, as sad as it may be.
I nod as I look back at him.
I know this was the opportunity to finally tell him what I believe is happening, but I simply can't. It was too hard to get to this point, and sharing my suspicions would only hurt him and further delay the inevitable. I don't need to subject him to that, because if I'm truly right, I know this issue won't be something that lingers for long. And if I can spare him from this additional pain, that's what I'll do.
"I'll sign the papers. If that's really what you want."
"No. That's definitely not what I want, Lewis." I stand up alongside him. "But it's what we have to do if there's still any respect left for what we both lived together."
We enter the grand courtroom together, taking small steps. We walk side by side without any hurry towards the cold room that awaits us, not saying a word. No need for more lamentations. Certain of what will happen, uncertain about the future we hadn't imagined without each other.
I return to my seat, my heart racing as everyone settles in.
"My client agrees to the counterproposal," his lawyer breaks the silence.
"That's good. Now that both parties agree, you may finally sign the documents, please," the mediator seems almost relieved.
The knot in my throat chokes me. I want to escape from here, I want to cry like a baby right now. This hurts like hell. I didn't think I would have a breakdown at this moment, not when everything is so close to ending.
I try to hold myself together, to keep my breathing in check and not show how close I am to bursting into tears and screams. I think I do well in that, as the only person who notices my instability is the only person in the room who is in the same situation as I am.
His red eyes betray a nearly palpable pain.
It shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be ending this way.
We promised we would die together, old and gray, in our house with the white façade surrounded by flowers in London.
It wasn't supposed to end in a cold room at the first instance court in Monaco. This is so damn unfair.
Lewis takes the white papers that were handed to him by his lawyer. His hands shake, but only I notice. He doesn't avert his gaze from mine, not for a second, not even as he picks up the black pen placed in front of him. He wants to be sure. He wants one last confirmation from me.
Day 0
"Our hands fit perfectly. I instantly feel calmer with his touch. I step away from my father as I approach my fiancé.
“You look perfect.” He whispers in my ear as he gets close. The emotion in his voice is clear. Lewis plants a kiss on my cheek before turning to my father.
They shake hands. My father pulls Lewis into a half-hug, I know something is said in the midst of it by the older man, but I don't hear what. Just the possibilities that pass through my mind are enough to make me laugh.
Lewis doesn't take long to turn back to me; now his attention is entirely mine.
"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here on this special day to celebrate the love and union of two souls who have decided to embark on this journey of life together.”
The celebrant begins to speak. My heart races, and the smile on my face feels like it will stay there forever.
Lewis looks more handsome than ever. His happiness manages to make him even more beautiful, as if that were possible. I want to look around, see if the flowers arranged are the ones we chose, or if everyone we invited is present. But I couldn't, I couldn't look anywhere when I have the best thing in my life right in front of me. Moving his mouth and telling me "I love you" without making a sound. Just for me to know, just to make it clear.
“Marriage is a unique moment, as it is the union of two individuals who choose to share their dreams, joys, and challenges side by side. Today, Lewis and Y/n, you are taking an important step in your lives, a step that represents the promise to love and care for each other, regardless of the circumstances. The journey of love is marked by highs and lows, but it is the partnership and complicity that will help you overcome all obstacles together. Love is the force that binds your hearts, making you stronger, braver, and more willing to face any adversity. Now, I ask for everyone's attention for the vows of the newlyweds.”
Anxiety consumes me even more, but I am excited to finally be able to say the words I have been holding inside me.
I turn to Alessia, who stands behind me. She hands me the small piece of paper I entrusted to her earlier.
I try to breathe a few times before starting to pronounce the words written by me on the lined paper.
“I think it's not news to anyone here how much of a dreamer I am. Everyone who knows me has heard about my fantasies at some point.” My laughter is accompanied by that of my guests. “Many of them I judged and was aware of being impossible. After all, I know that nothing can be perfect.” I take my eyes off the paper and lock eyes with Lewis for a few seconds. “I never thought I would be so happy to be wrong.”
I try to hold back the tears as I speak, but I know my emotion is implicit and one step away from taking over me.
“You showed me that my unrealistic dreams are not only possible but even better than in my imagination. Love transcends what I thought was impossible. Your love showed me that even the bad parts are worth it if I have you by my side.” Lewis smiles in a way different from the usual, tears fill his eyes too. Which only makes me even more fulfilled. “I never imagined that I would marry that guy I met by mere chance on a night out with my friends. Not because I didn't like you right away; because I think it's clear how I was already won over by you before even knowing your name.” His laughter echoes within me. “But because I imagined that when I found the love of my life, the feeling would be different. I would be afraid, anxious, uncertain at times. After all, that's what my mind and all love stories make us believe. That it has to be complicated to be real. But that's not what happened, everything between you and me was natural, it felt right from the beginning.”
I need a few seconds to breathe, look at our guests for a brief moment, and can capture all the emotion present in the room.
How is it possible for a moment to be so magical? How could all of this result in anything other than the perfection of a life together? I thought I was sure of something until now, but this feeling shows me otherwise. There is nothing within me greater than the conviction of the right decision for the love of my life.
“I took a while to realize that this is the essence of true love. The kind that happens fluidly and unconditionally, without pressures, fears, or insecurities. In you, I found the security and comfort I didn't even know I was looking for. Now, looking back at everything we've been through, I realize that every step that brought us here was guided by destiny. Every moment we shared, every laugh, every tear, everything was part of a carefully written plot for us to find each other in this perfect fairy tale.”
“And, my love, I promise to keep cherishing this feeling that binds us. Because it was by your side that I learned that true love doesn't need to be complicated or uncertain. I thank chance, destiny, and all the forces and entities that brought us together. I am blessed for this, and there are not enough words to express my gratitude at this moment. May our love continue to grow, to blossom, and may we face every challenge together with courage and complicity. Because if I'm by your side, I know there's nothing to fear, and we'll be fine as long as we're together.”
I articulate the last sentences while looking into your eyes; they are already engraved in me even before writing them.
Lewis presses his lips together; there are a few seconds of silence before we laugh at each other. In a mix of tears and happiness.
Knowing that it's now his turn makes me more anxious than minutes ago when I started my speech.
“Oh God.” He whispers with a choked voice. “How do you expect me to say anything after that?”
“Just breathe. I'm right here.”
Our hands connect again. I tighten my grip on him, waiting for the time Lewis needs to prepare.
Eventually, Lewis brings his hand to the pocket of his pants and takes out a folded piece of paper.
I notice the tremor in his hands. But his smile remains intact.
“Y/n…” He looks at me for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the paper. “I could spend hours here telling you how certain I am that you are the love of my life. How you showed me a life that I never imagined would be mine. Or how you taught me so much that I don't know how I survived before I met you.” The hand holding the paper tightens with a certain force, but his expression, in contrast, brings me peace. “But there are not enough vows of love to tell you what I would like now, Y/n. I don't think there's a combination of words that comes close to expressing what I really want, what I feel inside me. That's why I'm not going to try, not at this moment, not in this way. I will show you, every day, what no phrase at this moment could. And that's my promise to you.”
I feel an euphoria that could be mistaken for anxiety; each word of his envelops me in a way that I even feel numb, as if floating in an almost immortal state while I listen to him. Everything within me echoes that this is the moment, the pinnacle of genuine happiness. It's the moment I intend to remember every day for the rest of my life.
Simply, the best moment of all.
I even make an effort to set aside the awareness of my emotions a little. I'm not sure what could happen if I completely surrender to what I'm feeling. It's like a nirvana, and I hope it lasts forever within me.
Lewis pauses for a few seconds before continuing.
“You are the best part of me. I am my best version when I have you by my side. And for that, I promise to cultivate each of these things that move us, promise to take care of this love and never let it go away. I promise to remember every day how lucky I am to have a wife like you, even in those moments when you drive me crazy wanting something and not being sure what, and thinking I should be a deciphering master.” Everyone laughs, tears mixed with happiness on our faces. “No. It's okay, actually your ability to confuse me is one of the things I love about you.”
“You are light. You are happiness. You are peace and a storm at the same time; you are my foundation, the love of the life of someone who never believed in fairy tales. You are my fortress, and I hope to be yours. So, I'll be here, always right here, by your side. Making sure you are always content, always supported, never alone. Never alone.” He emphasizes the last sentence. His eyes glued to mine. “I love you.”
His gaze, intense and suffocating, seems to penetrate my skin, but I maintain composure, hiding the storm unraveling within me. Any gesture from me could end up prolonging this unbearable moment, and honestly, I don't know if I could endure another hour in this room.
I resist the temptation to look away and, instead, just nod slightly. In the ensuing silence, I try to capture every detail, every line on his face, as if this were the last time I would see him. His eyes, which once shone with love, now reflect only the shadow of what we were. His Adam's apple moves, and his gaze shifts away from mine, finally releasing me from this anguish.
The fingers holding the pen are tense, white from the applied pressure. The fine tip touches the paper, leaving a trail of farewell.
A final uncertain glance.
The last second as wife and husband.
I can't believe it ended like this.
But that's how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a suffocating silence, marking the end of something we swore to be eternal. The last trace of our connection fades away, and now all that remains is the journey unfolding before me. A life now redefined by the absence of what once was us.
[…]
I enter the apartment, and exhaustion takes over my body.
It's still mid-morning, but it feels like days have passed since I woke up.
My new home is nothing like the previous one; it's a simple apartment with three bedrooms that seems to have the perfect size to avoid feeling cramped but also not so large as to leave me lonely.
The apartment of a single woman.
The walls are predominantly white, with a single exception in the living room. I painted one of the walls blue on my first day here, a choice that now seems too impulsive. I look at that wall and feel a twinge of regret, but the idea of repainting it is simply inconceivable.
I don't even like the color blue.
Suddenly, I become aware of the object I tucked into my bag days ago, and for the first time since the purchase, I feel anxious about the possibilities it holds.
I close my hand around the strap of my bag and walk to the bathroom, no hurry, but my heart beats unevenly.
I lock the door behind me, even though I'm alone, a habit I haven't lost even after leaving my parents' house.
My breath would be audible even if the house weren't in the absolute silence it finds itself in.
I do what I've done at least two hundred times in my life; there's no need to look at the instructions. At this point, it has become muscle memory. The ritual unfolds in silence, marked only by the subtle sound of paper and plastic.
With care, I return the test to its place in the small box. Hesitation hangs in the air, a prolonged pause before facing what I already know. The urgency to find out competes with the reluctance to confront. I'm not ready; I don't want to relive all of that again. The fear inside me grows to proportions I've never experienced before. If I had the slightest strength, I could have a breakdown now.
I leave the bathroom, seeking more space, trying to alleviate the suffocating sensation. The small box still in my hand.
The indicated 3 minutes have passed; the instructions say to disregard after 15 minutes. I have 12 minutes, 12 minutes to avoid the answer, 12 minutes where I still pretend not to know anything, where I can continue to delude myself for another brief interval. 12 minutes that allow me to postpone the inevitable confrontation, as if ignoring the clock could freeze the reality that may await me.
There are tears. Tears that I don't know if they're of sadness, joy, or a complex combination of both. Each drop seems to carry the weight of a journey, mourning the past loss, the uncertainty of the future, and the unexpected surprise of the possibility of a new life forming.
There's a trembling smile playing at the corners of my lips. It's a smile marked by vulnerability, fear, and resilience. The irony of discovering this right after the divorce seems to hang in the air, but there's also a flame of courage that ignites within me. A strength that arises from the need to face this chapter alone.
There is confusion. My heart feels like a maze of contradictory sensations. The duality of emotions manifests in thoughts that collide, in doubts intertwining with fearful hopes. How to balance the fragility of a new life with the pain of a previous loss? Or rather, two losses?
There is fear. It feeds on the vulnerability of being alone. The specter of the past loss still looms over me, a shadow that whispers fears. The uncertainty of what is to come.
There is happiness. Happiness that arises from the understanding that life, despite its painful twists, goes on. A new life, an opportunity to start over, even if the scenery seems daunting at first glance. It's the hope that ignites in the face of darkness.
I gather the necessary courage and hold the object firmly. I take it out of the box.
There are two lines.
[…]
Life unfolds, it happens, even though I may want to stop it at times. Choices and changes, at times, leave eternal scars. And if it hurt enough to leave a mark, it means it should always be remembered.
Before me, there is a blank canvas, a path never treaded before, where I carry my baggage and memories that I'm not sure will fade so quickly.
The pain makes room for resilience, a chance for redefinition. Life shows that the ability to move forward is the source of overcoming, even when the future is unstable and uncertain.
Even in the quietest corners of my story, there is a subtle melody that continues to play, reminding me that, despite everything, life persists, transforming into an eternal flow.
Life metamorphoses, flowing like a river that, even in the face of obstacles, finds its way, reminding me that persistence is the essence of existence.
However, this same persistence, although it is the force that makes us move forward, can also be the cause of pain, of giving up, and of exhaustion.
Learn when to say goodbye.
N/a: OMG I´M BACK!😭
I won't even justify my absence. I simply couldn't write for a long time. But I hope it was worth it. Here it is, the last chapter, finally. I hope to be able to write again and bring more stories. Thank you to everyone who followed and had patience. ❤️❤️
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writing-fanics · 11 months
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Prince Eric & first kiss???
. first kiss .
prince eric x gender-neutral!reader
a/n: y’all going hard with theses request I love it keep it comin
Masterlist
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Nighttime had fallen on the kingdom and its residents. After a long day, [Y/n] made their way down to the shore and sat on the sandy beach. Staring out into the vast ocean.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Eric said jokingly, causing them to turn around to look back towards him a smile growing across their lips.
“Yes, despite me being seventeen my parents still think to give me a curfew.” [Y/n] said, looking back towards the ocean.
“I’m getting older, and they still treat me as if I’m a child.” They mumbled, hugging their knees to their chest.
“Well, at least your parents aren’t trying to trap you inside the castle.” He said, and they turned to look at him and chuckle gently elbowing him.
“Yeah, that’s true.” They said smiling, meeting his gaze and quickly looked away blushing slightly. They both looked out into the vast ocean, “One day, I wanna join you on one of your voyages.” They said, turning to look at him.
“Really?” He asked, and they nodded. “I’ve always been curious on what’s out there. For my entire life I’ve spent every waking moment here in this island.” They said, placing their hand on the sand.
“You’ve been too so many places, that I could only dream of seeing.” They said, with a hint of jealousy picking up a seashell and holding it in their hand.
“But, my parents are always y/n it’s dangerous.. y/n you’ll drown… y/n we need you here.” Letting out a sigh and falling back onto the sand, facing up at the stars.
“I mean I get it but… one day I’ll want to go off and have my own adventure explore new things.” They sighed gently rubbing the seashell. Eric looked down at them and listened.
“Explore, they so called uncharted waters you might say..” they said, sitting up turning to look at Eric. He smiled softly at them, as they said this.
“Well, my mothers too stubborn seems I won’t be voyaging any time soon.” He said, and [Y/n] sighed dropping the seashell it falling between their feet.
“Eric?” They said, turning to look at him. “Will we ever get off this island again?” They asked, with hope in their eyes.
“One day, and then we’ll travel the uncharted waters together.” He said, a smile grew across both their lips a smile grew across [Y/n]’s lips, and they smiled they didn’t even realize that they were slowly leaning towards each other. Until their lips pressed against each other. Eric placed his hand on their cheek deepening the kiss.
Pulling back they smiled softly at each other, “One day,” they said, talking about them traveling the uncharted waters together. Leaning their head against his shoulder smiling hopefully for that day to come.
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sunnytarg · 1 year
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I'll be the one to break the mold! I'm humbly requesting an utterly deeply in love Aegon ii with a SO that doesn't deal with his shit. "Like shape up man!"
Please🥺
An in love Aegon wouldn’t need to be told not to do something. They’d show a slight disappointment in him and he’d turn his shit around.
Aegon is truly horrible at hiding his feelings. He wears his emotions on his sleeve despite his mother telling him that it didn’t suit a prince, especially the first born son of a King, but it was something Aegon couldn’t help. Especially when he finally fell in love.
He had found himself in lust and even infatuated before but this time it was different. For the first time in his life he was not only planning a future but a future with someone else. He was aware that as the prince he most likely wouldn’t be allowed to wed who he wanted but that didn’t stop him.
He met them after he stumbled out of a brothel drunk. He couldn’t tell up from down or right from left so when a random commoner grabbed him and took them to their home, he put up no struggle. He was surprised when he woke with a pounding headache in a small home in the city of King’s Landing. He had woken up in odd places before but they were usually places he frequented.
When he heard humming coming from his right he practically jumped out of the bed he was laying in. His eyes landed on one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. When she turned around she was holding two bowls, placing them on the table she finally looked at him and said, “I would suggest eating before you leave, my prince.”
That was how it started. He found himself sneaking into the city more and more after meeting her. The first time he snuck away and found her on his own was when he tried to get her into bed. Her dress was nice if not a little tight. It was clear she was not so poor as to live in flea bottom but it was also obvious that she didn’t have enough money to buy new clothes all of the time. Which meant that her dress hugged her figure. Aegon could only imagine the curves underneath it and he practically drooled when she moved because her dress was too tight for her breasts to breath.
She had let him into her home easily enough but when his hand found its way to her hip and drifted down to her bottom, she smacked it away. He was too stunned to say anything as he pulled his hand away. He went to brothels often but even when he found someone to fuck that he didn’t have to pay they never slapped him, after all he was the prince, very few people had enough courage to lay their hands on him.
“If you think I’ll spread my legs for a man I hardly know, that makes it a habit to frequent brothels and who reeks of wine, you’re sourly mistake my prince.”
He had only nodded silently and taken a seat at her table. She had not kicked him out so he supposed that he would stay here and get to know her. After sneaking back into the castle after spending the day with her, he knew he was already too far gone. They had done nothing more than eat, talk, and laugh. He had never felt more satisfied.
After she made her disdain for men who frequent brothels clear, Aegon tried to stop going. Thinking back on it, he realized that he hadn’t entered a brothel since he had met her.
Two weeks after meeting her, she finally let him into her bed. He had made sure to wash before visiting her so he didn’t smell of wine and she had made mention of how she noticed that he wasn’t visiting the whores in flea bottom like he used to.
They had stayed in her bed the entire night. Without drinking a single drop of wine Aegon felt intoxicated off of her. When he left in the morning after spilling his seed inside of her several times during the night, he had made sure to kiss her goodbye as he snuck back into the castle.
Things went smoothly between the two until one night Aegon arrived in her doorway swaying from drinking too much wine. He had gotten into an argument with his mother earlier that day and decided to indulge himself in his favorite dornish wine. When he went to kiss his love she pulled away from him with a look of disgust present on her face. The only thing she said to him was “that he smelled like the inside of a wine bottle” and then she promptly turned around and shut her door in his face. He stood there confused and upset before making his way back to the castle.
The wine was harder to quite then the brothels but his love didn’t demand that he stop drinking completely. Just that he slow down. He no longer came to her when he overindulged, rather hiding it instead of letting her see him drunk again, but soon he managed to get it under control.
Aegon had been living off of wine and whores for so long that he didn’t think it possible for him to live without it but when he found his way to the city and into the arms of his lover he began to wonder how he managed a life before her.
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mahs-dumpster · 2 months
Text
a/n: idk what I'm doing with my life tbh I'm just like. Writing tons of scenarios without stopping. Anyways this was like made ages ago and I just decided to give it a proper ending... Anyways once again posting this and running away
🏷️: @viilpstick @justm3di0cr3
cw: oc x canon (Leona x Isabelle), banter, uhhh idk man denial of feelings?
words: 2300+
Dividers.
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Obsession.
“I hope you do realize you're absolutely obsessed with her.” Ruggie stated as he finished folding Leona's clothes and putting them in their rightful drawer. The man in question laid in bed with a raised eyebrow completely confused.
“What?”
“With Isabelle-san. You’ve been talking about her for the last hour I’ve been here folding your clothes.” Ruggie got up, grabbing the basket filled with dirty clothes from both him and Leona — he wasn't gonna complain if Leona let him wash his clothes with his. “Actually, you’ve been talking about her during Spelldrive practice as well.”
“I wasn't talking about her, I was complaining.” The prince huffed as he crossed his arms, looking at the smaller one. 
“Excessively. I'm so tired of hearing about her I think I'll physically cringe next time I see her. Which is bad… she likes me enough to give me special treatment…” Ruggie sighed as Leona sat down to look at him incredulously.
“Because she always has a bone to pick with me. She's always on my case.”
“I'm always on your case and you don't talk about me nearly as much, do you?”
“You do stuff for me. She just irritates me.”
“Well, ok. Vil-san irritates you and is always on your case, do you talk as much about him as you do with Isabelle-san?” Leona shut his mouth, rolling his eyes and rolling to the other side of the bed, his back facing Ruggie as the hyena beastman sighed. “One way or another you’ll have to accept it. It ain't that bad, really, at least you know you’ll stay together regardless, while I– nevermind. ‘night, boss.” and the boy left before any melancholic thoughts could’ve been voiced, while Leona stayed there on his bed, eyebrows furrowed as he clicked his tongue.
Let's say, in the imaginary scenario that Ruggie created, that Leona was, in fact, a bit obsessed with his fiancée. What would happen then? Sure, they were getting married in 3 year's time, but that wouldn't change how Isabelle felt, and she despised him. And he despised her as well. Obviously. Surely. 
Leona groaned in annoyance and covered his face with his pillow, trying to force himself to go to sleep and ignore the annoying questions Ruggie planted in his head.
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“Sit up straight, has your father taught you no proper etiquette?” 
“Oh shut it.” Leona basically growled but his fiancée showed no fear, in actuality, she seemed even more fierce, glaring at him as if demanding an apology. He didn't give it to her through words, but he rolled his eyes and waved his hand, and she nodded, not entirely pleased but it would do. 
After that day Leona didn't want to see Isabelle, in fact, he’s made it his life mission to avoid her when they had joint school activities, and ignored her calls — more than usual. But sitting in a limousine? With her? All the way from the mirror to the palace at Sunset Savannah? He simply couldn't avoid her.
“So.” Isabelle began, and he got ready for a scolding. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I'm not.”
“You barely spoke to me the last time our schools had an event.”
“I was busy.”
“You ignored all of my calls, even the ones from the viewglasses.”
“I probably didn't see it. Can we get it over with?”
“No.” She insisted, a frown prevalent in her pretty face. “What's up with you all of a sudden? If I said something to upset you, you must tell me.”
“You upset me just by looking in my direction.” He glared back and Isabelle stared at him for a moment. She sighed and looked outside the window.
“I see.” She merely said. “I shall not look at you today if it upsets you this much.”
…Did he go too far?
He watched as her small hands were locked together, one of them kept making motions on the other one, like pulling the sleeve of her dress, pinching her skin lightly and scratching it as well. Leona moved his gaze upwards to the back of her head, unable to see her expression. 
Maybe he did go a bit too far.
Isabelle said stuff like this constantly to him tho! Like, come on now, he had way more right to be upset, she was usually the one starting fights! In fact, this whole thing started because he couldn't stop complaining about a fight she initiated!! 
Leona clicked his tongue, his demeanor shifted from being uncomfortable in her presence for being annoyed with himself. Why did he even say that? It wasn't even true. Maybe it was in the beginning, but not anymore. Isabelle was irritating, always bossing him around and testing his patience, but she didn't pry when he closed off when the subject of his family showed up, she cheered for him during Spelldrive matches, — well, more like threatened him because she didn't want to be engaged to a loser — and defended him to people who dared to bad mouth him. 
The issue of being or not obsessed with her didn't matter any longer. He needed to fix the situation.
Gently, Leona grabbed one of her hands and held it tight, and the girl looked at it in confusion, especially because Leona refused to make eye contact and just looked outside. 
“I lied.” Leona simply said, and he felt Isabelle relax next to him. “I'm dealing with some issues. Just let me be for a while.”
Isabelle huffed as she intertwined their fingers. “You could’ve said so from the start, moron. Take your time, just know I'm here to listen if you need me.”
“‘kay.” He whispered, his thumb caressing her hand, as the girl got a bit closer to him, deciding to hold his hand with both of hers. 
He wondered if she truly meant it, if he were to say what he truly thought of her, if she should accept him. In moments like this, Leona would let his ego aside, and pretend that they were truly in a real, loving relationship.
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The guards were ordered to guide Isabelle to her room for the time they stayed there, while Leona refused his — it was his home, why would he need a bunch of guards to show him where his room was?
Almost as soon as he arrived at his room, he flopped himself onto his bed, only taking off his shirt to feel a bit more free and comfortable. Back at the same place he ran away from… he resented everytime he had to go back home. He was proud of his country, yes, but the palace carried too many memories, painful ones in fact… every hallway made him remember the servants talking about how useless he was, every dinner was a display of uplifting his brother while putting him down, every smile from Cheka showed Leona he could never be number one.
He was tired already. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe if he slept now, his brother would think he was actually tired, and let him skip dinner. It wasn't likely, but it was worth trying.
And so he did. Leona slept for hours in his room, a few servants tried to wake him up while knocking at his door but to no avail. Until, of course, Isabelle.
“Leona, wake–” She said, not caring to knock on the door but stopping midway and turning her head away from his form. “Put on a shirt, will you?”
“As far as I'm aware, this is my room.” Leona mumbled, his voice tired as he stirred in bed, his tail getting closer to him. “Could’ve knocked.”
“If I knocked you wouldn't have let me in.” She made a point and sighed, deciding to turn to him again despite her embarrassment. She walked close to him, hands on her hips. “Come on, dinner’s about to be served.”
“Then tell them I was too tired to show up.” He frowned slightly, his eyes still closed as he turned away from her. “Let me be.”
Isabelle sighed, scratching her head, unsure of what to do. “Cheka will miss you, he’s been talking about you all day.”
No response.
“Come on now, I can't show up without you and you know that! Stop being like this.”
Once again, no response.
Isabelle puffed out her cheeks in annoyance as she decided to take a look around his room. It was cleaner than she thought, but then again, of course it would be, the servants had time to clean his room without the giant cat to mess everything up. The bookshelf caught her attention, as she walked towards it she saw a few books she had never read before, a lot of them weren't fiction, but rather about topics too advanced even for NRC or RSA. She reached out for one book, opening it with curiosity.
“I had no idea you had an interest in geology.” Isabelle said, sitting at the end of his bed as she continued to read. “I guess there's a lot of stuff I still don't know about you.”
Leona sighed, finally sitting up as he scratched his head. Isabelle kept her eyes on the book, scared her gaze would betray her once she looked at him. “I guess."
He finally opened his eyes, and blinked a few times to be sure he wasn't seeing things. Right there in front of him, was Isabelle, half of her hair tied up in a bun as the rest was free, her clothes were from Sunset Savannah, no doubt, and they seemed to fit her perfectly, almost as if they belonged to her. His quietness made Isabelle curious, so despite her embarrassment, she looked up to him, lifting an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Where’d you get that?"
“Oh.” She looked at herself, her face pink as she let out a small smile, happy he noticed. “Your sister-in-law, she said she bought this for me a while ago, had it custom made too.” She closed the book, touching the fabric of her dress. “It's beautiful and very well made. She's incredibly kind.” Leona just hummed, unable to keep from staring at her. He rested his head on his hand as he looked, his eyes going all the way from her toes to her head, making Isabelle even more embarrassed. “Why are you staring? Does it look weird?”
“In a way.” He watched amused as Isabelle made a pout, a sigh escaping her as she looked at the ground with disappointment. “But it suits you.”
Isabelle looked at him, unsure if she should take it as a compliment, but his reaction didn't seem to express anything other than intrigue. He kept looking at her, his eyes couldn't drift away from her as his irises got bigger, reminding her slightly of a cat. His tail moving a bit as he watched her, a smile slowly creeping on his face. She was beautiful. And she was wearing his country’s clothes.
Fine. Maybe Ruggie was right… he was a bit obsessed with his own fiancée.
Leona heard steps outside his room and groaned in annoyance. He knew it was probably a servant trying to call him for dinner since Isabelle didn't seem to have success– wait.
Isabelle was in his room. For a longer time than it was expected. He was shirtless.
He smirked, an idea popping in his head.
“Why do you have that weird smile on your face?” Isabelle asked, looking at him suspiciously. Leona simply let out a chuckle, getting up and standing in front of her, the girl look even more confused. “What are y–”
Before she could continue, her back was already resting on his bed, Leona on top of her as he watched her face grow red and her eyebrows furrow. He couldn't help but chuckle as he nuzzled his face in her neck and Isabelle complained, but still made no effort to try and get him off of her.
Then, the door was opened.
“Your highness, dinner is– oh goodness!” The servant quickly closed the door as Leona laughed against Isabelle's skin, the girl getting unbelievably red and perplexed upon realizing his plan. “I-I’ll tell His Majesty that you're busy at the moment. Forgive my intrusion.”
Leona finally relaxed, the weight of his entire body falling onto Isabelle who complained once more. Upon realizing he wasn't moving she simply sighed.
“So you were just using me to run away from dinner huh?”
“What? Are you disappointed?” He asked, his breath on her neck as she shivered and moved her face away from his.
“Not exactly. Just annoyed you used me for your own personal gain.” She tried to explain, where Leona was laying down he could feel her heartbeat, and it was increasing with every passing second. He smiled.
She was nervous.
“If you wanted me to lay you in bed–”
“Don't you dare finish that sentence.” She finally looked at him, a glare on her face and he laughed. Leona's hand moved to Isabella's face, his thumb making circular motions as her cheeks went pink. It was then that he realized how unbelievably close she was.
“Hey, mouse.” He started, eyes never looking away from hers. “I'm gonna do something, and if you don't want me to, I'm giving you the freedom to push me away.” he quickly looked at her lips, enchanted by her, and she seemed to freeze upon realizing what he meant.
He got closer to her, his nose brushing against hers and his lips hovering just above hers. He was about to do it, to kiss her right there without a care for what this meant about his own feelings for her and–
Her phone rang. She pushed him away and got up.
“I-I’m– there's– I-I have to answer it– you know, my father he– I-I’ll go.” With that, Isabelle quickly walked out of his room, leaving Leona by himself, his back laying on his own bed.
And he laughed.
Her eyes… Leona might be a predator, based on his lion features, but he was so sure that Isabelle was the one fitting that role at that moment. Bewitching him and making him do crazy things. Making him quite obsessed with her and her presence.
He couldn't help but want more.
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