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thebadboyfanclub · 11 months

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Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)

I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy

Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).

Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.

“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”

“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”

(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.

Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.

“Congratulations, my queen”

“Oh come on now stop with that”

“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”

“Anything for my good sister”

“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”

(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.

What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.

“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”

“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”

“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”

“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”

“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”

Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.

“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”

Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.

“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”

“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”

“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”

“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”

(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.

“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”

Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.

“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”

“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”

(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.

“I will see you later Grandmother”

“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”

Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).

Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.

“I know that look”

“Pardon?”

“You are planning something”

“I always am”

“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”

The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.

(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?

“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”

“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”

“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”

“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”

“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”

Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.

“What do you wish to suggest?”

“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”

“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”

“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”

“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”

“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”

That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.

No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.

“Because she is to marry me”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”

“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”

“Are you afraid of Cersei?”

“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”

“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”

“What if she births a girl?”

“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”

“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”

“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”

“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”

“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”

Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.

“My lord”

(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.

“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”

“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”

“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”

“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”

“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”

“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”

“It is not you that is not enough young lady”

Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.

“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”

“You are a fool if you don’t”

“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”

“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”

“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“

“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”

Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?

A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.

“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”

Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.

“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”

“How could he ever do this to our family?”

“Who did what?”

“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”

“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”

“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”

“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”

In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.

Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.

“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”

“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”

“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”

“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”

“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”

That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.

“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”

“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”

“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”

“Don’t say it”

“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“

“No, no”

“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”

“Never!”

Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.

“That bitch is not our mother”

“She is not, though she looks like her”

Requests are open!

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proxima-writes · 10 months

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the last great american dynasty

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.8k (whoops)

summary:

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up.

He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream

author's note:

inspo board this work is inspired by taylor swift's song "the last great american dynasty" and is part of the folklore album anthology! if you enjoy, please consider reblogging/commenting and make sure to check out the other works by the amazing collaborators on this project.

tags/warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, work contains journal entries as part of the plot, porn with plot, pre-outbreak!joel, grandma is a named OFC, sassy reader, dirty talk, teasing, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paint as a flirting mechanism, mild enemies to lovers, pet names. let me know if there are any missing!

August 20, 1948

I have arrived in Texas. I am uncertain where to go or what to do. For so long I’ve answered only to George, but now I am my own woman and the world before me has suddenly become much bigger, seemingly overnight.

I just hope it will be good for me.

-R

PRESENT DAY

If there’s one thing you never expected, it’s to inherit a mansion from a grandmother that you’ve never spoken to. As far as you were aware that kind of thing only happened in movies, so receiving a phone call from an estate lawyer that had been trying to locate you for a whole year since this mystery woman’s passing was a complete shock.

Now you find yourself with a car full of your belongings driving cross country to a sleepy suburb of Austin, Texas. The first stop is the lawyer’s office, where a secretary eyes you warily as you sit in the lobby of the lush office suite, fingers toying with a loose thread on the t-shirt you’d been wearing for the last eight-hour leg of your road trip.

A voice calls your name from a door just past the secretary’s desk, an older man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face smiling kindly at you. You stand, shaking his hand as you pass by him into his office. He gestures to the wingback chairs that face his impressive dark wood desk. You take in the diplomas on the wall and the floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with thick, leather bound tomes.

“I appreciate you comin’ all the way out here so quickly. You were quite the tough one to find,” the man says with a chuckle. He pulls out a thick envelope, cream colored with swooping, swirling handwriting across the front reading your name. “Your grandmother was a dear friend of mine. She established a trust in your name not long after you were born.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m still a little confused. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother,” you admit quietly. He nods solemnly.

“She never told me all the details, but there had been a falling out between her and her daughter. They kept their distance after that.” When you don’t say anything, mind too busy racing with the questions that you suppose only your mom can answer now, he continues. “Would you like the review the details of the trust?”

“Um, sure. I guess that’s why I’m here, after all.”

He slips a piece of paper from the folder, sliding it across the desk. The same swirling handwriting fills the page.

My Dearest,

You may not know me, but I’ve watched you grow in photographs and letters since you were born. You mean the world to me, even if I could not fit in the world that your mother created for you. I respected that choice, hurt though it may have. She had her own path to forge, just as I did, and just as you will. I am eternally grateful for the parts of her life she did share after she left.

In the event of my passing, I leave my estate to you in its entirety. I built my true happiness in those walls, and I hope you can do the same.

-R

You read the letter twice, eyes stinging with tears. A tissue box slides across the desk, and you pluck two sheets out gratefully.

“In this envelope are the more official documents. The deed transfer that will need your signature, beneficiary statements for her banking and savings accounts, things like that. My office will handle all the paperwork filing,” the man says. A few more forms are laid out on the desk, and you lean forward to read them.

“Holy shit,” you snap, eyes wide as you swipe the beneficiary statement from the wood. “There must be too many zeroes in this, right? Or a rogue comma? That can’t be the right amount.”

“I assure you that’s the correct amount,” he says with a laugh. “And if you’ll sign down there, it’ll be transferred to your name and designated account.”

Your mouth goes dry as you read through the rest of the documents. In addition to the sizeable amount of money about to hit your bank account, there’s a five-bedroom house being transferred into your name, as well as a safety deposit box. You sign each form where directed, sliding them back over to the lawyer.

“I believe this is yours,” he says, holding a house key out to you. He drops it into your open palm. “Good luck.”

“I wish they would just put that place up for sale already,” Joel grumbles from the passenger seat of his brother’s truck as they drive by the out-of-place 1920s Victorian home on their way to a job site.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past year since that poor old woman passed,” Tommy says with a laugh. “Give it up, brother. Your dream house is just goin’ to rot away before your eyes.”

“Don’t you say that,” Joel replies. He doesn’t need Tommy speaking his fear into the universe.

The house has already been showing signs of falling apart in the last ten years Joel has lived in the neighborhood. The roof needs work, the shutters need replacing, the lawn is overgrown, and there’s a sizable hole in the wrap-around porch that seems to get bigger over time.

He’s wanted that house since the first time he saw it while he was house hunting ten years ago, a then three-year-old Sarah on his hip as he toured a nice little house that was available in the neighborhood at the time. While the home he’s built with his daughter through long days of hard work is nothing to scoff at, he’s always dreamed of something with more character and story.

He just hopes he’ll get his chance.

You stare up at the old house in front of you, shielding your eyes from the late afternoon sun. It’s a beautiful house, though there’s no denying its seen better days – two stories with large bay windows on both floors, white wood siding and chipped red shutters that are clinging to their rusty hardware, a large wrap around porch that has vines encroaching on the banisters, a lawn overgrown with weeds. You tentatively climb the steps of the porch, peeking nervously into the large hole in the wood to the left of the front door.

“That’s private property,” a gruff voice calls out, making you jump. You turn, finding a man standing on the sidewalk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You ain’t supposed to be snoopin’ around.”

“Actually—”

“Why don’t you just head home, sweetheart, and I won’t have to call the cops,” the stranger says, cutting you off. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“This is—”

The man huffs, arms dropping as he digs in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a cell phone. “Seriously, I’ll give you until the count of three. We don’t need trouble around this neighborhood, alright?”

The nerve, you think, narrowing your eyes at the man. Since he clearly doesn’t want to hear what you have to say, you decide to take a different route. You reach into the pocket of your shorts, pulling out the key that the lawyer had given you earlier that day. You take a sideways step closer to the door, keeping your eyes on the man as you pointedly insert the key into the lock and opening the heavy wood door.

His mouth drops open in surprise and you smile at him.

“You were saying?”

Joel had seen the car parked in the driveway of the empty house when Tommy dropped him off after work. He’d quickly checked on Sarah, newly thirteen and fiercely independent, finding her working on her homework at the kitchen table, before making his way across the street.

He hadn’t expected to find a gorgeous woman snooping around the old house, curves hugged in denim shorts and a tank top that made his mouth water. He also hadn’t expected the woman to produce a key from the pocket of those sinfully tight shorts.

“You were saying?” You ask, lips curved in a smirk and eyebrows raised at him. When Joel doesn’t immediately reply, still too stunned that you have access to the house, you turn and walk through the door, shutting it behind you.

He finally shakes himself of his shock, bounding up the steps and knocking on the door. You pull it back open.

“I’ll buy it from you,” Joel says immediately.

“Excuse me?” You reply, your hands moving to your hips. “It’s not for sale.”

“Come on, what’s a girl like you need all this space for?” Your mouth drops open, pretty lips stretched wide in surprise and Joel struggles to keep his thoughts from drifting to sinful places.

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re young, that’s all. You don’t need a house this big and this much of a project!”

“What makes you think I don’t have a big ol’ family I’m moving in here? Four kids and a loving husband?!”

Joel blinks. “You got four kids and a lovin’ husband?”

“No, but that’s besides the point.” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at his chest. “It’s not for sale. Now get off my porch before I call the cops on you.”

With that final word, the door shuts in Joel’s face again, the sound of your retreating footsteps signaling the end of the discussion.

November 12, 1948

There’s a gentleman who comes into the diner every Tuesday. He always sits in one of my booths, with his perfect hair and suit and handsome face distracting me until he leaves. Some of the other waitresses try talking to him but he doesn’t pay them any mind. They’ve whispered to me before that he comes from money - oil, or something, not that it matters.

His name is William, and I think he’s trying to steal my heart.

-R

“So, let me get this straight. First, you threatened to call the police on this woman. Then, rather than introducin’ yourself or welcomin’ her to the neighborhood or even apologizin’, you just go straight to tellin’ her she doesn’t need a house that big and that you wanna buy it from her. Did I hear that right?” Tommy says, watching Joel as he throws together dinner the following evening.

“Yeah, that sums it up,” Sarah says. Joel huffs.

“Well, when you put it like that.” He sips his beer as his daughter and brother share a look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothin’,” they say in tandem. Joel narrows his eyes as Sarah breaks out in giggles. Tommy stands, heading to Joel’s pantry and rifling through the shelves until he finds an unopened bottle of whiskey buried in the back.

“What are you doin’ with that?” Joel asks.

“Welcomin’ your new neighbor like the gentleman I am. Sarah, watch the pasta while I show your dad how it’s done,” Tommy replies, heading for the front door, Joel trailing behind him.

Tommy crosses the street with quick steps, eyeing the porch dubiously as he knocks on the door. Joel stands beside him, hands shoved in his pockets as he curses under his breath about his brother’s stupid antics.

You open the door, dressed this time in a pretty sundress that makes Joel’s mouth go dry. Tommy flashes you a grin and Joel can’t help the annoyance he feels when his brother’s eyes trail over your body.

“Hey there! I’m Tommy Miller, you may have met my dumbass brother over here the other day. I’m certain he didn’t make the best impression, so I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding the whiskey out to you.

You introduce yourself, ignoring Joel. “Thank you so much, Tommy. Would you like to come in?”

“Sure thing,” his traitorous brother replies, stepping over the threshold. When Joel makes a move to follow, you give him a pointed look before shutting the door in his face.

“You want a beer, Tommy?” You ask the handsome man in your kitchen. You can’t help but be impressed by the genetics of the Miller family, both men tall and tan and handsome as hell. Sure, one of them could use a lesson on manners, but you’ll admit that since your confrontation your mind has drifted to thoughts of brown eyes and soft dark hair that belong to the brother you left on the porch out of spite.

“Yes, please,” Tommy says politely. You open the dated refrigerator and grab two beer bottles, popping the caps against the countertop and handing one to him. “This sure is a nice place.”

“Thanks. I just inherited it from my grandma,” you explain. “It’s a little…dated.”

He chuckles. “We call it ‘character’ in contractin’.”

“That what you guys do, then? Contracting?”

“Sure is. Miller Brothers Contracting and Construction.” Tommy scratches at the label on the bottle before saying, “Look, I know my brother can come off the wrong way. He didn’t get the social genes. But he’s a good guy, and he’s loved this house since the first time he saw it. Always wanted to buy it, fix it up, raise his little girl here. Maybe add to his family one day.”

You look around the rundown kitchen. You’ve only been here a day and you know you’ve got your work cut out for you. The electrical and plumbing are all outdated, the appliances need replacing, the floors need to be refurbished, and that’s just the first floor. You could use some help with it all, and maybe the grumpy contractor next door who cares about the house could help you with it all.

“I appreciate that he loves the house but…I never met my grandma. Never even knew who she was or that she was even alive, and it’s the only connection I have to her. I don’t know if this is going to be my forever but…I want to at least give it a shot.”

Tommy smiles. “We could help with that.”

It feels like ages before Tommy’s stepping back out onto the porch, a beer in his hand that makes Joel frown.

“Y’all were havin’ drinks while I sat out here like an ass?” He asks incredulously. Tommy throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, and if you don’t quit your whinin’ I’m not goin’ to tell you about our lovely conversation,” the younger man says as he walks with Joel back to his house.

In the kitchen, Sarah is pouring the pasta sauce and ground beef over the noodles. Joel takes over and waves her away, mumbling his thanks as he mixes the ingredients together. He sets up two plates, setting one in front of his daughter and sitting down with the other. Tommy makes an affronted sound before fixing his own plate.

“So?” Joel asks. Tommy slurps at his food.

“Was the lady nice?” Sarah asks.

“No,” Joel replies at the same time Tommy says, “Yes.”

Joel glares at Tommy. “You gonna tell me what she said or what?”

“She ain’t sellin’,” Tommy finally says. “But, she wants to fix the place up. Offered our services so you could get your grubby fuckin’ hands in there.”

“Language,” Joel says, eyes flicking to Sarah. The girl rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“Yep. Better start callin’ the guys. From what I saw we’re dealin’ with electrical from the 50s, plumbing from who knows when, not to mention the HVAC and roof will need to be upgraded, too.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before grinning at Joel. “You up for the challenge?”

“Hell yeah.”

August 23, 1949

William and I have just been married.

I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. But he is truly the light of my life.

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. I’m still not abreast of all these new societal expectations that surround a man like William, but I’m willing to try. Today he will be taking me around to view houses in the more opulent neighborhoods, the type of homes I used to gawk at but one of them will be mine.

I must be dreaming.

-R

Joel and Tommy start working on the house right away. Every day there’s a line of pick-up trucks parked on the curb and the sounds of construction start early in the morning and continue into the late evening. The electrician and plumber come through first, updating the wiring and pipes through the whole house. The roofers and HVAC come through next, replacing the crumbling shingles and dated central unit with a split system for each level of the house.

It’s not until the big projects are done that you get to have fun with the place, which is how you found yourself methodically painting the front door a muted lime green early one morning.

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

You sigh. Despite Tommy’s assurances that Joel is a great guy beneath the grumpy control freak exterior, you’ve continued to only get the side of the man that grates your nerves.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m painting the door.”

“You can’t paint the door that color,” Joel says, heavy footsteps stomping up your newly repaired porch.

“Says who?” You retort. You smear another stroke of paint over the sanded wood.

“Me, for one. The historical society, for two.” He pulls the brush from your hand and holds it above his head and out of your reach. The movement drags his shirt up, exposing a strip of tan belly with a trail of dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. “Why are you bein’ a pain in the ass?”

“I was put on this earth simply to make your life more difficult, Joel Miller. Isn’t that obvious?” You reply sarcastically. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like you got that right. “What are you even doing over here? It’s Saturday.”

“We’re goin’ to the store. You gotta start pickin’ stuff out for the bathrooms and kitchen,” he says, tossing the paint brush into the tray. “And then we’re gettin’ a new color to cover this up.”

Joel leaves the porch and you follow behind him to the black pick-up truck idling by the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and you raise your eyebrow at the gesture but climb inside.

January 3, 1950

Our New Year’s party is the talk of the town. There were so many people in the house I began to lose count. William had so much champagne ordered I swear we could fill an entire swimming pool with it all.

The ladies at the club have already begun to ask when we would host our next event. I can’t wait to plan another.

-R

“Can you please focus?” Joel begs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He’s laid out three tile combinations, one for each bathroom in the home, and he needs you to look at them but you keep getting distracted.

“You’re no fun,” you huff. You examine the tiles, pointing to a turquoise blue one he’s picked for the shower in the master. “I love that.”

He looks at you in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. She can be reasoned with.”

You giggle and Joel can’t help the smile it prompts from him, the sound of your laugh so sweet compared to your sharp tongue.

“I like the white and blue combinations for upstairs, but in that powder room I want a pink theme,” you tell him. Your eyes search the displays, landing on a blush pink glass subway tile option. “Like this!”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel replies without thinking, taking the sample from you and comparing it next to the floor tile he’d chosen for that bathroom. When he glances at you, you’re giving him a confused look. “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shaking your head. “What about the kitchen?”

“What were you thinking for in there?”

“Green cabinets. White and black backsplash, the kind with the little hexagons that look like flowers. I gotta pick out appliances now that the electrical can sustain newer ones, too.” You pause. “And how do you feel about wallpaper?”

“It’s the devil,” Joel replies.

Your grin is downright mischievous. “Excellent.”

February 2, 1956

William had a heart attack. It scared me so badly that I haven’t let him out of my sight since. The doctor said he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, and not sleeping enough. Maybe the parties have started to be too much for him.

I’ve been feeling unlike myself. Tired, nauseated. Hopefully my heart isn’t troubled, too.

-R

Joel places a hefty order for all the items you’ve picked out today from nearly every aisle of the store - tile for the bathrooms and kitchen, vanities and plumbing fixtures, countertops, lighting, and appliances. While he’s preoccupied with calculations and measurements and pricing things out, you pick out paint and wallpaper for the projects you’ll be able to do on your own.

He finds you a while later, a cart full of paint buckets and supplies. To your surprise, he grins.

“More paint, huh? You pick a new one for the door?” He asks. You smile back at him, butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“Yep. Does navy blue suffice, your highness? I thought we could paint the trim the same color.”

Joel nods. “Good choice. Look, I’ve kept you here so long for all the orderin’. You wanna get lunch?”

“Careful, Joel. I’m like a stray cat - once you start feeding me, I might never leave,” you reply with a laugh. You push your heavy cart of paint towards the exit.

You miss the soft smile he gives to your retreating figure.

September 23, 1956

Our daughter is here. She’s the sweetest little thing, though she can screech like a banshee when she sees fit. William is so besotted, he keeps looking between the two of us with stars in his eyes like he can’t believe how lucky he is.

I love them both with my whole heart and soul.

-R

Joel takes you to a retro family diner with black-and-white checkerboard flooring and red vinyl accents with a vintage jukebox in the corner. You’re delighted by the themed menu, eyes immediately zeroing in on the classic malt shakes and french fries.

Over lunch, Joel actually opens up to you. He tells you about going into construction right out of high school and dragging Tommy into it when he’d gotten back from serving his tour with the Army. He talks about his daughter, Sarah, and you can’t help the smile that stretches your lips as you watch his eyes light up while he talks about his little girl. She’s at a sleepover this weekend, which gave him the extra time to visit the home improvement store this morning.

In turn, you tell him about getting the call from the lawyer one afternoon that changed your life forever. How you’d packed up everything you owned and driven across the country to find out that you had a grandmother that your mother never told you about that left you her entire estate.

“Wow. That’s…wow,” Joel says when you’ve paused to take a sip of your chocolate shake.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks. You both look up at the elderly woman dressed in a t-shirt with the restaurant’s logo and pressed slacks. She smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and ever since you sat down I’ve been wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to place your face and it’s just hit me.”

She holds out a framed black and white photo of six waitresses standing beneath the same sign that’s still out front, all of them grinning at the camera. There’s one face, however, that looks familiar despite you never having seen her.

“Her name was Rebecca. We used to work together. That’s me, right there,” she says, pointing to the girl standing to the woman’s left. “Rolled up to town at eighteen, fresh off a divorce and hardly a penny to her name. My daddy, god rest his soul, he owned the restaurant and gave her a job when she’d come through lookin’ for work.”

“Wow,” you murmur. “This is insane. Do you have any other pictures?”

She gives you a sympathetic smile. “‘Fraid not, darlin’. Just the one. But I know she kept a lot of journals. Was always scribblin’ in one and spent what little extra cash she had makin’ sure she had a new notebook ready. Maybe they’re still around?”

July 16, 1958

William…

William is gone. My light, my love, my world. The doctor said his heart just…stopped. In his sleep, right beside me.

I have to continue to live with a hole in my own heart, the piece that William stole years ago gone with him.

But I have to be strong for our daughter. Our brave girl, my little bird.

-R

When Joel brings you back to the house, you stare up at the facade, wondering if the journals the woman had spoken about could still be inside. Lost in thought, your eyes land on the little window that sits above the bay windows on the second floor, where the master bedroom is. You’ve been sleeping in that room for months now and you know there’s no window there that you can see from the inside.

“Hey, Joel?” You call out, eyes still fixed on the little window like it might disappear if you look away. “This place is only two stories. How come there’s a window there?”

He looks up at the roof. “Huh. Might be decorative?”

“Or it might be a secret room,” you tell him.

“Okay, Sherlock. Let’s go see.”

You lead him upstairs to the master bedroom, most of your grandma’s furniture still present save for the bed that you replaced upon arriving. You stare up at the ceiling, but it’s smooth - no trap doors to be found.

“If I were a secret door, where would I hide?” You ask.

Joel, who’d been poking his head into the walk-in closet, replies, “Probably the closet.”

There’s a creak of old hinges as Joel reaches up high and tugs the brass pull handle fixed in the ceiling. A descending ladder falls to the ground and you both stare at each other in surprise.

“I’ll go grab a flashlight,” Joel offers, sprinting from the room. You stare up at the hole in the ceiling, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

He returns quickly. “I’ll go up first.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you tease, watching as he ascends the ladder, your eyes shamelessly fixed to his ass as he climbs. You hear the click of the flashlight and see the sweep of the beam through the opening in the ceiling. “Anything?”

“Lots of suitcases. Hang on, let me grab one of the small ones,” he calls down. There’s the sound of something being dragged across the floor before he’s slowly lowering a leather suitcase into your hands.

It’s surprisingly heavy and you drag it by the handle to the bedroom, kneeling on the ground to pop the latches and open the dusty lid. Inside are stacks of leather bound notebooks, edges of the pages yellow with age.

“I’ll be damned,” Joel says, wiping his palms against his jeans. “We found the journals.”

Joel drags the suitcase downstairs, setting it in the living room for you while you order pizza and open a bottle of wine for the occasion. You sit beside each other on the couch and he hands you a journal that you carefully open.

May 17, 1974

We had another argument last night. She claims that I’ve been too overbearing, too protective, too stifling, but what else is a mother meant to do?

-R

May 18, 1974

Her bed was cold and empty this morning. Her piggy bank smashed to bits on the floor and her drawers cleared. Despite my tight grip, my little bird has flown away.

It appears that history does repeat itself. Imagine that.

-R

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting back on the couch with your glass of wine in one hand and one of your grandma’s journals in the other. “She ran away.”

“Who did?” Joel asks, biting into a slice of pizza.

“My mom. She just…packed up and disappeared.” You glance at him. “Guess that’s why I never knew about her.”

“Maybe you should stop uncoverin’ dark family secrets for the night,” Joel suggests. “You know, the dining room could stand to be painted.”

You glance over to the room in question. Joel must have set down the drop cloth on the floor while you’d been engrossed in your discovery.

“Sure. Why not,” you acquiesce.

October 29, 1976

I’ve received an envelope of photographs in the mail, pictures of my daughter holding a little baby. She’s written notes on the back of each one. I’m a grandmother.

My daughter looks happy. Healthy. That’s all I can ask. She didn’t provide a return address.

As for the baby…I love her so much. She takes my breath away. I keep one of the photos on me at all times.

-R

Joel turns on the radio while he works, humming along to the classic rock station selections. He’s been working on painting the wall near the wood molding while he left you with a paint roller to cover the middle of the wall. He looks up at you occasionally, admiring the way your muscles work as you wash the wall with color.

You must sense that he’s watching, turning your head over your shoulder and looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he says. You smile at him, setting the roller in the tray. He can’t help but look at your ass in your tight leggings as you bend over.

You straighten up, walking over to him. There’s a glint in your eye that has Joel on high alert.

“You got a little something on your face,” you tell him.

“No, I don’t,” he counters. He’s a master at painting. He knows damn well he doesn’t have a drop on him.

“Yeah, you do,” you argue. You reach out, and your fingers smooth across his forehead. “Right there!”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets out a bark of laughter, bringing his fingers up to his forehead. When he pulls his hand away, they’re stained blue and you’re grinning at him like a mad woman.

“Yeah? Well, you got some right—“ He smears his paintbrush across your chest and you try to step back, but it’s too late. “—there,” he finishes.

You rush back to the paint tray and dip your hands in the liquid, brandishing your palms like weapons. He starts to advance on you, smirking as you back up.

“Stay back,” you command. Joel laughs, dodging your swinging arms as he charges, dropping low to press a shoulder into your belly, dragging you down to the ground in a heap of limbs.

He presses his body to yours as he reaches an arm out to the paint tray, covering his own hand in paint. Your eyes go wide and you squirm beneath him, your paint covered palms reaching up under his shirt to press the cold liquid to his ribs. He flinches away, giving you enough room to scramble out from under him.

Joel grabs your arm, paint smearing on your skin as he tugs you back down. You wrestle together, paint getting everywhere as he lets you straddle his waist. His hands grip your hips, fingers pressing tightly as he stares up into your face.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice low. Your lashes flutter, hips canting over the obvious bulge in his jeans. He groans, hands urging you to do it again.

“What’s my prize?”

Joel slips his fingers beneath the hem of your tank top, dragging the paint stained material up and over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze burns across your newly exposed skin.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He says, a hand sliding up your belly to palm one of your breasts. Your head drops back as you moan.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply. He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest as his eyes grow darker, his gaze more heated. “Come on, Miller. What’s my prize?”

With a growl Joel sits up, wrapping an arm around your low back and twisting your bodies until you’re on your back, staring up at him as his lips stretch in a devious smirk. His fingers curl into the waistband of your leggings, sliding the fabric down your legs. His touch paints your skin blue as he does.

His hands press your thighs apart, opening you up. Your cheeks heat as he stares down at you like he’s trying to commit every curve of you to his memory. Finally, he leans in and you can feel his breath ghosting over your heated flesh.

Joel’s tongue traces through your slick folds, a broad stroke that has you gasping and arching your back. He hums against your sensitive flesh as he repeats the languid motion, his stubble catching on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

You reach your hands down to tangle in his hair, paint catching on the strands as you tug and pull. He groans against you, tongue moving faster as he circles your clit before pulling it between his lips. A hand leaves your thigh, the one not coated in paint, and two thick fingers press to your entrance, sliding inside of you as you gasp out Joel’s name.

“Christ,” he groans as he presses in deep before withdrawing slowly, curling his digits against your front wall, “you’re so fuckin’ wet, pretty girl. That for me?”

“Uh huh,” you reply, breathless as you work your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Joel watches you, his lips and chin shiny from his efforts. “Joel, please!”

“Please what?” His hand moves faster, fingers pressing harder as his lips spread in a lascivious grin that makes your toes curl. “Come on, baby, ask me real nice and I’ll give you anythin’. Ain’t that right? You know damn well you’ve had me wrapped around your sassy little finger since the moment we met, don’t you?”

You whine, nodding your head quickly. “Knew you were a glutton for punishment.”

“Could say that again,” he says, chuckling as he lands a smash to the outside of your thigh with his free hand. “Now, come on, baby. Follow directions. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna cum, Joel. Please!”

“Good girl,” he growls, lowering his lips to your pussy to lick at your clit. He hums as he lavishes the sensitive bud with attention and it’s the final push you need over the razor's edge you’d been teetering on since he started. You press your thighs against his head as your nerves light up and your muscles go tight with pleasure, his movements slowing as he works you through your release.

Your muscles go limp, head dropping back to the floor with a thunk. Joel sits up, crawling up your body and trailing kisses across your tummy and chest in the patches of skin not covered by paint. He grips your chin, holding you steady as his lips press to yours in a kiss so deep you worry you’re at risk of drowning.

Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the leather free of the loops in a frenzy. He stands quickly, freeing himself of his jeans and boxers in one motion before reaching behind his head to tug his shirt off while you admire his labor-toned body.

Joel drops to his knees, pressing his hips to yours and dragging the thick head of his cock through your sensitive pussy, bumping your clit and making you both groan in tandem. His forearms rest on the floor beside your head as he teases you like this, slow drags of his length through your wetness, the tantalizing catch of him at your aching hole. You tilt your hips slightly, hoping he gets the hint, and he chuckles.

“You know the drill, baby,” he says, breathless with his own desire. “Just say the word.”

“Fuck me, Joel, please.”

His cock slips inside of you with little resistance, the stretch of him making you gasp. His eyes remain fixed to yours as he bottoms out and you smile up at him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Joel gives a small, experimental thrust that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. He does it again, a sharper snap of his hips making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulder. He builds his own rhythm, one that has your hips chasing his on every pull from your body, one that has you chanting his name and staring up at him like he’s a god and you’re simply a sacrifice on his altar.

He sits back on his heels, the angle changing as your hips get lifted onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist, fingertips pressing tightly to your ribs as he uses your body for his pleasure, pounding into you roughly.

“Cum for me again,” he demands, bringing a thumb to your clit in quick circles. “Come on, sweetheart, want you to cum on my cock. Was so pretty on my fingers.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the near overstimulation but you nod, wanting to give this man whatever he wants if it means he’ll keep touching you, holding you, looking at you.

You cum again with a shout of his name and he groans, deep and visceral as he presses in deep, holding your hips to his as his cock pulses inside of you with his release.

Joel slowly lowers your hips to the ground, withdrawing from your body as he does. He flops gracelessly to the floor beside you, sweat damp chest heaving with exertion. His head turns to yours, grin wide and eyes bright.

“You’re covered in paint,” he comments, reaching out to run his hand across a streak on your collarbone.

“So are you,” you reply, mimicking the gesture against his ribs.

“What do you say to a shower?”

You smirk at him before jumping up and racing to the doorway.

“I’d say last one there doesn’t get the hot water!”

You can hear his curse as you rush up the stairs, making it halfway before a strong arm wraps around you and stops you in your tracks, your laughter echoing through the house.

June 27, 1993

The neighborhood has changed so vastly. Much of the older homes have been torn down and replaced with less handsome architecture. The residents grow younger while I continue to age. Just last week a handsome young man and his darling daughter moved in down the street. He looks exhausted. I remember those days.

Not all the neighbors are lovely. Harold next door has an annoying dog that barks at all hours. He prances her around like a show pony, when she’s just a yappy little creature.

-R

ONE YEAR LATER

The house is finally finished. All the tile has been laid, everything has been painted, appliances delivered, holes repaired, fixtures installed, and wallpaper glued. You go downstairs for coffee in the morning, you take it to the parlor room you’ve made into a study. Floor to ceiling bookshelves display every journal you’d unearthed from the hiding place in the attic, each one read through cover to cover.

When you finally told your mom about what you’d been up to, her surprise and hurt could be felt even through the phone. You mailed one of her mother’s journals to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said the next time you spoke. “So much time had passed and I didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken.”

You don’t begrudge her decisions. Your grandma left you her story, and through that you’ve been able to know her.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs precede Joel’s appearance in the study, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes half shut. He drops beside you on the couch, grabbing your coffee from your hands and taking a sip of it.

“Is it everything you’ve always wanted?” You ask him, tilting your head to his shoulder. You still remember the way he’d been desperate to buy the house from you and you laugh at how the world works, given that he now wakes up in bed beside you and is tasked with the lawn maintenance every weekend. He presses a kiss to your head.

“It’s even better.”

June 29, 1993

I don’t think the dog will be bothering the neighborhood again anytime soon.

Turns out he doesn’t hold as much pride for the dog when she’s been dyed lime green.

Imagine that.

-R

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queenshelby · 6 months

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 17)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

When an invitation to Tommy's wedding arrived, it was like a tsunami of feelings struck your spirit, shocking you to your core and leaving you breathless even after it passed.

Deep down you knew, deep down, that you would never forget the consequences that would run through your family's very roots if you turned down the invitation to his wedding. However, in the midst of this profound insight, your contemplative mind wondered if the heavy weight of emotional turmoil that this occasion bore was truly worth the endurance and perseverance it required.

Your father Arthur had gone silent, not a word exchanged, for months on end. He did not know about your secret yet, namely that, several months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. In fact, no one knew other than Ada and, luckily for you, Ada vowed to honour her commitment of utmost secrecy to you, valiantly concealing her own penetrating doubts about the progenitor's identity, yet lacking verifiable certainty.

Two months had passed since her last visit, when destiny laid bare the truth before her very eyes. The arrival was an unforeseen surprise but, she has been supporting you ever since. Being a single mother herself, she understood what you needed and this was emotional support and encouragement especially after you told her that you never intended to carry this pregnancy to term.

By a cruel twist of fate, it was discovered at the last minute that you were expecting your uncle's child. Termination was an unthinkable option by this point and one that you fiercely denied as you had already carried your son for twenty weeks without showing. It was confusing to you having to go through this alone but, in the end, you managed surprisingly fine.

Then, after you gave birth, in the midst of a maze of people, you met a kind hearted doctor named Robert who looked after your son after he was born.

Rich and well-connected, Robert seemed like a perfect match for you. He was kind and loving, treating your son as if he was his own. He was a man of unwavering dependability, someone you could always count on. However, a sense of unease crept over you when he expressed his desire to accompany you and your son on the imminent journey to Birmingham.

Robert was blissfully ignorant of the fact that your son was born out of the covert union between you and your very own uncle as, for months, you had been entwined in a web of forbidden passion and secrecy. He also had no idea how powerful your family really was and that their illegal activities could potentially put him into danger. Thirdly, you knew deep down in the pit of your heart that Tommy and your father would never approve of him.

“Robert, I am not sure if you coming to Birmingham with me is really such a good idea,” you thus said cautiously as Robert looked up into your eyes with a hint of doubt on his face.

"Y/N, please," Robert said with genuine sincerity. "I will be extremely happy to become acquainted with your family, especially if you should ever feel inclined to accept my marriage proposal,” he went on to say, causing you to sigh.

"We talked about this, Robert," you said coolly, looking into his sincere eyes. "My heart and mind aren't ready to dive headfirst into the world of commitment just yet,” you told him before taking a moment to collect your thoughts and attempting to unravel the complex web of your family's past.

“You see, Robert, my family is not like other families. They have a certain toughness that comes from running those factories and gambling dens I told you about,” you casually disclosed, hinting at the lawful ventures conducted under your family's wise leadership, rather than their illegal and illicit endeavours.

Robert dismissed the statement with a casual shrug of his shoulders and said, "So what? They export machinery and take bets on horses”, causing you to nod. “There are worse ways to make money," he then told you reassuringly, cupping your face before telling you a disturbing story of young desperation. He described a terrifying reality that had occurred just the day before. Two frail spirits, who were both gently starting their fourteenth year, had fallen prey to the deadly grip of cocaine's seductive appeal. But even before his depressing words could fill the room, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

"Alright, alright! I will take you to meet my family, but you need to promise me not to bring up stories like this when you are around them. No mention of drugs and no mention of...anything to do with the prohibition and...just keep it simple...small talk only," you stammered nervously, not wanting him to create a conflict within your realms.

Robert nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting the love he had for you. "I promise, Y/N. I will be on my best behaviour and avoid any topics that may cause discomfort or conflict. Your family's approval means the world to me, and I would never want to jeopardize that."

***

As the days passed and the date of Tommy's wedding drew near, you couldn't help but feel a mix of resentment and nervousness. The thought of introducing Robert to your family, specifically your unpredictable father and secretive uncle, made you tremble with apprehension. But evermore so, the fact that Tommy was getting married to Lizzie made you sick with nausea.

You despised her and, unbeknownst to Robert, you still loved him. You were in love with your very own uncle who was a dangerous man and the father of your son, whom he knew nothing about.

This incestuous relation had kept you captivated against all odds. You had often dreamt of the day when these secret encounters would turn into an actual romantic relationship, though you realized that this will never happen.

And there lay the crux of your problem – your undying infatuation towards Tommy amidst the growing bond with Robert, even after all the heartache Tommy had caused you.

The torrid dance between love and hate played out ceaselessly inside your restrained psyche now, consuming you entirely again.

On one hand, you never wanted to see your uncle Tommy again but then, on the other hand, you longed for him more than anything else. It appeared almost inconceivable how deeply enmeshed you were in the intricate snarl of these raw, fervent emotions. And, unfortunately, as much as you hated yourself for harboring these feelings, you simply couldn’t deny them.

Love or lust, whatever it was - it was intense. Every time you heard his name, every thought of him sent waves of arousal coursing through your veins, a constant reminder of your last few nights together before you were sent to America.

One night, in particular, was engraved in your memory like a tattoo and even though, that night, you were furious about his will to send you away just over elven months ago, you resolved whatever tension there was simply by being honest with each other.

That night, Tommy told you that he loved you more than life itself but, just like life, love wasn't always fair.

Backflash...

In a backflash, you remembered how, just the night before you left for Boston, Tommy took you to a place had never taken anyone else before.

It was his sacred place, his sanctuary, nestled among ancient trees where memories whispered softly in the wind.

Located on long abandoned land which he purchased without the knowledge of his family, a Gypsy wagon stood amongst wild flowers. Inside, candles flickered softly casting dancing shadows upon rough wooden walls covered in paintings depicting scenes from his past. There, hidden from prying eyes, he felt safe enough to express himself freely and vulnerably.

"Why did you buy this land?" you asked him quietly as you dismounted your horse and secured it against one of the large trees while looking around the peaceful scenery.

Tommy's voice sounded deeper than usual, touched with emotion, as he explained his reasoning behind purchasing the land. "Because I needed somewhere quiet to think sometimes, someplace where I didn't have to worry about anyone finding me," he told you as he approached and cupped your face tenderly.

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, the tenderness evident in his gaze as he stared intently into your eyes. "Away from everyone and everything," he continued softly, his fingers brushing across your lips. "Just one more time… let us forget about who we are, eh? Let's enjoy ourselves here tonight..." Tommy went on to say and you couldn't resist the intensity of his stare nor his touch, the warmth in his voice drawing you closer to him.

"Why do I have to leave, Thomas?" you questioned him sadly, unable to mask your sorrow.

"Because, unless one of us does, I will not be able to resist this constant temptation that pulls us toward each other Love," he admitted solemnly, regret etched on his brow. His eyes held yours steadfastly, refusing to look away, seemingly willing you to understand why it must be done.

"Then don't resist!" you urged passionately, stepping forward to press your body against his firm frame. Desire surging between you two, like an electric current sparking alive every cell within your bodies.

"You know it's not that fucking simple, eh?" Tommy growled, frustration seeping into his tone. "You are my fucking niece and we both know that this needs to stop," he declared forcefully, trying to suppress the desire threatening to consume him whole. But instead of withdrawing from your embrace, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate, hungry kiss. It was as if the very essence of his soul sought release through your mouth, through your body.

As your tongues tangled, he delved deep inside, probing and exploring, seeking something neither of you fully understood. With each thrust of his tongue, he seemed to find a part of you, awakening new sensations and passions.

"Don't you dare push me away for good, Tommy" you murmured breathily, clutching at his waist, digging your nails into his skin.

"We can't go on this way Love," he groaned, sweat trickling down his temple. "I want to protect you, and the rest of my family," he insisted, pulling back slightly, yet still maintaining eye contact with determination. "We need distance," he added.

He pushed you further against the tree behind you, pinning you there as he ravaged your mouth once more, his hands roaming eagerly over your curves.

Swept up in the moment, you lost track of time, the space around you falling away until there was only him—his scent, his taste, his touch. As his hand skimmed teasingly down your throat, stopping at the base of your neck, the feeling of being desired by this man consumed you completely.

He pressed harder against you, the heat radiating off his hard body causing your nipples to pebble beneath your clothes. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you ground your hips against him, silently begging for relief.

"Please, Tommy," you pleaded, gasping for air, begging him to take you.

Tommy paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his ragged breathing. Gathering what little composure remained, he ran his calloused finger down your neck, tracing its curve towards your shoulder blade, creating goosebumps along your skin.

Reaching beneath your skirt, he pulled down your panties roughly, exposing your feminine folds to the cool evening breeze, sending shivers running down your spine. Your legs began to quiver involuntarily.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he muttered huskily, "just one last time, eh?" before unbuckling his belt swiftly. He then unzipped his pants and pushed them down, causing his erection to spring free, thick and hard, demanding attention.

Without warning, he pushed up your skirt and made you lift your right leg so that it would wrap around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to align his manhood with your soaking wet core.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him position himself. Desire, excitement, and fearsome anticipation melded together inside you, creating a potent mix of emotions. Your thighs trembled violently, preparing themselves for his penetration.

In spite of his best efforts to retain self-control, the animal instinct rose to the surface when Tommy grabbed hold of your ass and yanked you flush against his rock-hard cock. Then, he gave it a slight push, forcing entry into your tight, moist cavern.

"Ah! Oh god yes!" you cried out loud, welcoming his fullness with sheer bliss.

Feeling the warmth of his flesh spread throughout your entire being, you moaned, reveling in the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head fell backward against the tree trunk as you absorbed the powerful sensations pulsing through your body.

Every nerve ending came alive with exquisite pleasure as Tommy began to move rhythmically inside you. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his rugged features, illuminating the raw passion consuming him. The air filled with the primal sounds of ecstasy as your lovers joined together in their most fervent union.

As the fire ignited between you both grew stronger, Tommy wrapped his arms securely around your waist, locking you tightly against him. He moved with deliberate precision, ensuring he hit all the sweet spots with each thrust.

"Fuck Love, you feel so good," his voice rumbled low in his chest, resonating deep within your core.

"Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, tell me how much you want it."

Panting heavily, you managed to reply, "Oh God, Tommy... I can barely stand it anymore... I want it so bad, so fucking badly... you make me feel things I've never felt before."

Tommy grunted with satisfaction, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much," he said hoarsely, reaching down to cup your breast, rolling your already swollen nipple between his fingers.

"I love you too, Tommy" you moaned as the pressure built up gradually, becoming almost too intense. Sensations flooded your body, culminating in a wave of pure bliss that coursed through you as you reached orgasm. Throwing your head back, your cries echoed around the woodland clearing, filling the silence with your rapturous release and, within seconds, Tommy followed suit.

His movements became erratic, his breath coming in short bursts. Grunting audibly, he poured every bit of pent-up energy into the act, leaving nothing left for tomorrow. The earth shook beneath you, trees creaked and rustled, and birds scattered as the primordial forces took hold, claiming its prey.

Drenched in perspiration, Tommy cradled your face, tears streaming down his own as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Promise me, no matter what happens in America, you won't forget our time together, eh" he whispered, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Never," you replied earnestly, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Our connection runs far deeper than just blood. It may change form, but it shall always remain," you said without knowing that your forever continuing connection would be through the birth of your son.

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patheticdarling · 1 year

Text

Decisions

Part II of Traitors

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon & her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen have now successfully fled the capital and have just landed on Dragonstone to warn her mother, Queen Rhaenyra, of the inevitable war to come. Princess Y/N is faced with the toughest of decisions.

Warnings: ANGST/switched povs (aemond’s + reader’s)/cussing/crying/swords/pregnancy/mentions of miscarriage/childbirth/talks of war/burning bodies/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO…possible part 3 👀

Word Count: 5770

*NOT MY GIF*

*Y/N’S POV*

The two of you had made it to Dragonstone safely and quickly. Luckily, the Greens were too busy readying everything for Aegon’s coronation that they hadn’t been prepared for a stunt like the one you and your grandmother pulled. You should’ve been happy as you dismounted Seasmoke, your feet landing on the soft sands of Dragonstone’s beaches.

“Are you alright?” your grandmother asked, rushing to check you over.

You pulled your hands from hers, “I’m fine.” A lie. You both knew it. You had just abandoned the love of your life and it wasn’t even your choice.

She pushed your hair behind your ear, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. If it could be another way-”

“But it cannot,” you cut her off, “Let us go. I’m already dreading telling my mother the news.”

Your grandmother sighed, “Which do you think will upset her more? That her father’s dead or that her stepmother and siblings have betrayed her and usurped her throne?”

“Gods be good,” you muttered as the two of you began your climb up the long steps of Dragonstone. Your swollen feet would’ve given out had it not been for your grandmother lending you an arm.

It had been a while since you’d been to Dragonstone, your mother had taken all of you there to live shortly after Joffrey was born. You had returned to King’s Landing for your wedding when both you and Aemond came of age then you didn’t see your mother until just recently when she came to defend Luke’s right to Driftmark and simultaneously announced your two eldest brothers’ engagement to your younger cousins, Baela and Rhaena. It almost seemed foreign to you even if you had spent most of your early childhood here.

“Princess Y/N, Princess Rhaenys,” Ser Lorent greeted you, “We weren’t expecting you. And on dragon back no less.”

“We need an audience with Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon immediately. It is a matter of extreme urgency,” your grandmother explained.

He gave a curt nod, “Follow me.” He led the two of you through the gates as you waddled and held close to your grandmother. He stopped before a set of doors, “One moment.”

Ser Lorent slipped into the room. You waited for a few moments before he returned, “They’ll see you now.”

You followed him once more into the Great Hall of Dragonstone, “The Princess Y/N Velaryon and the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

“Y/N,” your mother beamed at you. You practically ran into her arms. You laughed as your swollen bellies collided a bit, “You’re glowing. Motherhood becomes you.”

“You as well, Mother,” you smiled back before letting out a soft sigh.

“Princess Rhaenys,” she greeted your grandmother, “Might we hope for news of Lord Corlys’ recovery?”

“Viserys is dead,” she replied rather bluntly.

“Grandmother,” you snapped at her slightly.

Your mother’s welcoming grin had fallen as Daemon’s head whipped around, “I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart,” your grandmother walked closer, “There is more,” your mother’s hand tightened around yours as tears built in not just her eyes but yours as well, “Aegon has been crowned as his successor.”

A soft wince left your mother as she dropped your hand to cradle her stomach slightly, “They crowned him?” her eyes nearly vacant as the tears slid down her cheeks.

“How did Viserys die?” Daemon asked as he leaned himself and Dark Sister against the Painted Table.

“I could not say,” Rhaenys sighed.

Your mother’s voice quivered, “How long ago?”

“A day past, perhaps two,” your grandmother answered, “Y/N and I were made prisoners in our quarters while the Queen made her preparations.”

“Viserys has been slain,” Daemon asserted.

“Alicent demanded you both declare for Aegon,” she looked between you and your grandmother.

“She did,” your mother’s brow raised at your grandmother’s answer.

“We refused her,” you cut in.

“And yet you are alive,” Daemon had a teary glare set on the two of you.

“The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit,” Rhaenys explained.

“We witnessed it ourselves just before we fled on Meleys and Seasmoke,” you continued.

“They crowned him before the masses,” your mother’s voice filled with agony as her hand clutched the end of the table.

“So that the masses would see him as their rightful king,” you clarified.

Daemon’s voice full of anger, “That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you both could have burned them all for it.”

“A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure,” Daemon nodded slightly with a grunt, “But that war is not mine to begin. Nor is it Y/N’s. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house.”

“The Greens are coming for you, Mother,” you added, “And for my brothers and for me and my baby.”

“You should leave Dragonstone at once,” Rhaenys turned to leave.

Tears fell from her eyes before a sharp gasp left her mouth, one of her hands clutching her belly and the other on the table for support. All of you turning to her, concerned.

“Mother?” you put your hand to her back as she keeled over, “What is it?”

She quickly folded up the ends of her dress, sticking her hand up the ruffles. A soft gasp left your mouth at the sight of her bloodied fingers, “The babe is coming.”

“Maester!” you cried out, “Get the Maester! Now!” The guards in the hall rushed out, Daemon and you moved to support your mother. The Maester met you outside of her chambers.

“We’ve got her,” he reassured you.

“Mother, are you sure-”

“Get out!” she practically shrieked. You and Daemon were quick to listen and scurried off.

“Where are my brothers?” you asked him, practically running to keep up with him as he stormed through the halls.

“Your grandmother has already gone to fetch them from the beach,” Daemon’s voice curt.

“Daemon,” you stopped him, “There was nothing we could have done.”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “Rhaenys, I understand. She’s never been the biggest adversary to your mother or to me. But you? They stole your mother’s birthright and you just let them-”

“I did not! I was made a prisoner. The Queen only kept me alive so she could use me as a political bargaining tool to get my mother to bend the knee! And yet I refused her even when she assured me that no harm would come to any of you if I bowed to Aegon.”

Daemon scoffed, “The One-Eyed Prince must really have you wrapped around his finger.”

“I beg your pardon?” you hissed, “Do not speak of my husband in-”

“Your husband is a traitor. And do you know what happens to traitors, Princess?” your jaw clenched at his words, “They die. Screaming.”

“My husband had no choice, just as I did,” you spat.

Daemon scoffed, bordering on a chuckle, “You just keep telling yourself that.”

*AEMOND’S POV*

“Aemond, please, stop pacing,” Alicent groaned, “Drink some water and-”

“Water?” Aemond scoffed, “Will water bring my pregnant wife back to me, Mother? Will water ever convince her to forgive me? Or me to forgive her? Tell me, Mother. Will it?”

Alicent sighed, “I only meant that you need to ease your mind, darling. Your grandfather has already gone to give Rhaenyra the terms of surrender. No harm will come to any of them, especially not to Y/N.”

“You don’t know that,” he shook his head, “She is going to be surrounded by people who only thirst for the throne, no matter the cost. It was my job to keep her safe and now I cannot even do that. My child will be fatherless and-”

“Your child will not be fatherless because they will have a father,” the Queen Mother cut in as she took her son’s hands in her own, “You will be there to father your child, Aemond. Rhaenyra will agree to Aegon’s terms because it is the best thing for the Realm and all will be as it was.”

Aemond’s hands fell from his mother’s, “It will never be as it was. My wife and child are lost.”

“That’s not true, Aemond,” Alicent sniffled.

“It is, Mother. I will have to learn to accept it. Live with it. I have duties to this family and I cannot allow my judgment to be clouded.”

The Queen Mother was taken aback by her younger son’s words. She had never seen Aemond happier than when he was with Y/N and she nearly wept tears of joy at his excitement to become a father. But that light in his eyes was dwindling and it broke her heart to know that she was partly to blame.

She cleared her throat, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, “We need to send terms to the larger houses first. Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Lord Borros Baratheon seems an ideal man to-”

“I will fly to Storm’s End myself,” Aemond cut in, “Lord Borros has four unmarried daughters. We could promise Daeron to at least one of them.”

Alicent nodded in agreement, “Yes, we could. But Aemond, I only want you to go if you feel-”

“I leave on the morrow,” he answered quickly before leaving his mother’s chambers.

The One-Eyed Prince had chosen to stuff his feelings away, not only from others like his mother, but from himself as well. Aemond had forced himself to face the belief that he would never see his wife again, would never kiss her or hug her. And that his child would never meet him and he’d never get to hold them or watch them grow. His entire heart was gone.

*Y/N’S POV*

The wind carried off the dark smoke of the funeral pyre. You wept softly with your brothers as the flames cradled your late baby sister, who your mother had lovingly named Visenya, after Aegon the Conqueror’s fierce sister-wife.

“This was not supposed to happen,” you sniffled.

Your twin brother, Jacaerys sighed, “No, it wasn’t. First, they killed Grandsire and now our sister. The Greens will pay for this.”

“Jace,” Luke whispered, “Not here. Not now.”

The attention was drawn away from the funeral pyre as a member of Viserys’ former Kingsguard approached your mother. He removed his helm, revealing Ser Erryk, your saviour back in King’s Landing. You turned to your grandmother who already held a small smirk on her face.

Ser Erryk removed your grandsire’s crown from his bag and knelt before your mother, “I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers,” he began to recite the Kingsguard vows as Daemon took the crown from him, “I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honour,” Ser Erryk finished.

Daemon approached your mother before gently placing the crown onto her head and falling onto his knee, “My Queen.”

The rest of you followed suit, slowly bending the knee to your new Queen. You held Joffrey’s hand as you guided him down with you and your older brothers. Everyone was then instructed to gather in the Great Hall to await the arrival of your mother. You elected to walk alongside your brothers and cousins.

“She was born to wear that crown,” you spoke proudly.

Luke smiled slightly, “Grandsire would have been proud.”

“Not if what the Greens claim is true,” Jace scoffed, “He would have rather seen Aegon bearing it apparently.”

“Jace,” you snapped at him, “Our mother is the rightful Queen. No one here thinks otherwise. The Greens will be dealt with when the time comes.”

“And what of your husband, Y/N?” Rhaena had cut in.

You had not thought about Aemond after the events with your mother, “I am not sure, Rhaena. What happens to him will not be up to me but to our Queen.”

“And what if she wants them all dead?” Baela asked, “That seems to be the customary punishment with traitors. Aemond is a traitor, is he not?”

You swallowed hard as you fidgeted with your wedding ring, “I know you’d all prefer it that way,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes, “Aemond, good and dead. Vhagar free for Rhaena to claim, as it should have been, right?” They all stood silent, “I know you all hate him and I know you all have good reason to. But he is still my husband. The father of my child. And the man that I love. So, my apologies if talk about murdering him does not bring me as much joy as it does to you.”

“Y/N, that is not-”

“It’s alright, Luke,” you cut him off, “I do not wish to discuss it further. It is time for us to hear from our Queen.”

You turned, walking ahead of them towards the Great Hall. The rest of the lords and ladies congregated around the Painted Table as it lit up in all its glory. Rhaena had become your mother’s designated cupbearer and waited near the top of the table, Baela joining your grandmother’s side while you and your brothers walked to the far end of the table.

Your mother, accompanied by some of her Queensguard entered the room as Daemon moved to introduce her, “Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” All of us bowed to her, “Your Grace.”

Rhaena approached her, “Wine, my Queen.”

Your mother kindly took the goblet, “Thank you, Rhaena. Come,” she nodded for both your cousins to join at the table. There was a slight awkwardness that filled the air as you all stood around. Your mother looked uncomfortable, “What is our standing?” she asked.

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men at arms,” Daemon answered, “Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers.”

“We already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon,” the Maester explained as Jace placed the pieces onto the table.

“My lady mother was an Arryn,” your mother pointed to the Eyrie on the table, “The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”

“Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace,” the Maester noted, “With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

“Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed,” your mother huffed, “He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.”

“I’m going to treat with him myself,” Daemon answered.

“What of Storm’s End and Winterfell?” Lord Steffon Darklyn asked.

“There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark, the North will follow,” Lord Bartimos Celtigar answered him.

“Lord Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father’s promises,” your mother declared before turning to your grandmother, “What news from Driftmark?”

“Lord Corlys sails for Dragonstone,” Rhaenys answered.

“To declare for his Queen,” Daemon interrupted.

“The Velaryon fleet is in my husband’s yoke. He decides where they sail,” she rebutted.

“We shall pray for both you and your husband’s support,” your mother stepped in, “Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake’s return to good health. There’s no port on the Narrow Sea that would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet,” she turned back to the table, “And our enemies?”

“We have no friends among the Lannisters,” Daemon explained, “Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.”

“Without the Lannisters we are not like to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth,” your mother concluded.

“No,” Daemon was quick to disagree, “The Riverlands are essential, Your Grace.”

“Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot,” one of the lords spoke up, “Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”

Your mother was a bit stunned at first, “The Greens have dragons as well.”

“They have three adults, by my count,” Daemon was again one of the first to speak up, “We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys,” your grandmother scoffed under her breath at the mention of her dragon, “Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Your daughter has Seasmoke. Baela has Moondancer.”

“Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war,” your mother argued.

“There are also unclaimed dragons,” Daemon ignored her as he continued, ��Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.”

“And who is to ride them?” your mother asked. Oddly one of her messengers rushed up the stairs, Ser Erryk going to meet him.

“Dragonstone has thirteen to their four. I also have a score of eggs incubating in the Dragonmont,” Daemon continued, “Now, we need a place to gather, a toehold large enough to house a sizable host,” he placed a piece down, “Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

Your mother’s jaw tensed at Daemon’s attitude before Ser Erryk interrupted, “Your Grace, a ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

Daemon was quick to move, “Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies,” he snatched Dark Sister from the table. The guards, your mother, and Daemon went to go meet with whomever washed up onshore. You knew Aemond had not accompanied them, he would’ve rode in proudly on Vhagar.

You were sitting in your chambers, reading an Old Valyrian story and humming softly to your bump, “Ahem,” you looked up to see Jace and Luke standing in the doorway, “May we come in?”

You nodded, “Yes,” placing down your book and standing from your seat, “What is it?”

“We just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Luke answered, “We should not-”

“Not we,” Jace stopped him, “Me. I know what you did couldn’t have been easy, Sister. And I apologize for my lack of empathy. I should have been more understanding of your situation.”

You sighed, “It’s alright. I know your past with Aemond is not a pleasant one,” Luke shifted uncomfortably, “But it is the past. We have grown. We’re not the same people, we’re not children anymore. And whatever is about to happen to all of us is larger than some childhood quarrel. I just want you to both understand that.”

“We do,” Luke nodded, “I’ve wanted nothing more than to put all that ugliness on Driftmark behind me. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did and I know Aemond won’t either. But, that does not mean we should dwell on it. He is my brother-by-law and the father of my future niece or nephew.”

“You’re a good man, Luke,” you smiled at him, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Man?” Jace chuckled, “He’s still a boy.” You both rolled your eyes at his lame teasing, “But, he is right. We care about you and the baby far more than some fight from years ago.”

You reached over and gave his hand a squeeze as well, “Thank you, brothers. This talk meant a lot to me.”

“You’re our sister, Y/N. We love you,” Luke smiled softly.

“I love you both,” you hugged them, “I just wonder what the next step is.”

“As do we,” Jace agreed, “The Greens are wise enough to know that they are outnumbered when it comes to dragons. Ships are another thing. Without Grandsire’s fleet, we’re left to whatever men we have on land.”

“Grandsire is a loyal man. House Velaryon is not fickle,” you explained.

There was word that your mother and Daemon had returned from their meeting with the Greens. Otto Hightower, himself, had presented Aegon’s terms of surrender to your mother. All the lords who backed your mother continued to argue back and forth on what should be done next, Daemon and your mother especially bumping heads on the matter. Your paternal Grandsire, Lord Corlys, had finally landed on Dragonstone but he was still weak and needed his rest. You opted to walk the halls of the castle in an attempt to ease your own worries.

“Y/N,” you turned to see your mother walking towards you.

“Mother,” you greeted as she joined your side, “How are you? Is Daemon-”

“Fine,” you could always tell when she lied but you decided not to push the matter further, “And Princess Rhaenys is with Lord Corlys as we speak,” she stopped the both of you, taking your hands, “How’re you, my sweet girl? I feel that with everything that has been happening, I have neglected to check in on you and your condition.”

You caressed your belly, “I’m alright. Just a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

“That is understandable. You have been through quite a lot in the past few days. But,” she moved to pull something from her pocket, “Perhaps this will help put your mind at ease.” she extended a letter to you, the Targaryen wax seal still unbroken around it, “Otto Hightower brought it with him. He told me that it was for you, from Prince Aemond.”

Your breath caught in your throat, “Aemond?” you practically choked out as you stared at the letter in her hands, “Did he say anything else? What it might be about or-”

She shook her head, “Only that it be delivered to you directly and urgently.”

You fidgeted with your wedding ring, wondering whether or not you should take it, “I..” you could barely find your words.

“Y/N,” she took the ringed hand you had been fidgeting with, “Take it.”

“But, what if he wants me to come back? Or worse, what if he never wants to see me again? I-I wouldn’t know what-”

“You won’t know what to do until you read the letter,” she cut you off, “So,” she placed it into your hands, “Go to your chambers. Read it. Then decide.”

You nodded, “Yes, Moth- sorry. Yes, Your Grace.”

She caressed your cheek, “I am still your mother. Doesn’t matter if I wear a crown or not,” she kissed your head, “Now go.”

You let out a deep breath before heading towards your chambers. Shutting the door behind you as you finally broke the wax seal and unrolled the parchment. Immediately recognizing the neat cursive that he had always worked so hard to perfect because “how will I ever be taken seriously if I write like a seven-year-old?”

My Dearest, Y/N,

I know you little thought to hear from me. I little thought to even be writing this letter in the first place. However, I knew I needed to because there is so much I need to say.

I miss you, my wife. My true family. And I know you could probably never bring yourself to forgive me and I cannot say I blame you. I know my decision broke your heart just as yours did mine. I should not have made you choose. And I know we are both in an impossible situation. But I believe I may have found a solution to these problems.

Tonight, at the hour of the wolf. Meet me on the far side of Dragonstone, away from the guards and the castle. Come alone and tell no one.

All My Love,

Your Husband, Aemond

You continued to re-read it as hundreds of questions flooded your mind. What did he mean by solution? What if this was some sort of trap set by the Greens? What if this wasn’t from Aemond at all? And none of them could be answered if you didn’t listen to the instructions.

Even if you told your typically understanding family, war was afoot. Even if your mother trusted it, Daemon would never. He’d go to meet Aemond himself, Dark Sister in hand. Telling anyone was not an option. Once again, you had no choice.

The darkest time of night came faster than you would have hoped for. You paced your chambers for quite a while, spinning your betrothal ring over and over as you did. You nearly jumped whenever you heard guards or servants pass by your door. And before you could think twice, you had thrown on your cloak and boots before walking out of your chambers.

You tried to conceal your face with your hood as you hurried through the empty halls of Dragonstone. The sound of your heels against the cobblestone echoed throughout them. You continued a quick pace, well as quick as you could go at nearly eight months pregnant.

“Y/N?” a voice called from behind you.

You turned to see your mother, “Mother,” you gave her a nod, “Good evening.”

She raised a brow at you, “Where are you off to? It is quite late.”

You stuttered a bit before finding your words, “I was just going on a walk. It has been quite hard to find sleep in these last few months of pregnancy.”

She smiled softly, “It was the same for me when I was pregnant with you and Jace. I suppose it must be first-time mother worries and such. Would you like me to ring for a servant? Perhaps they could give you something to help you sleep.”

You shook your head at her offer, “It’s alright. I’ve found that evening air has been the best remedy thus far.”

“Alright,” she nodded, “Be careful. Be sure to find sleep at some point. There is another small council meeting tomorrow and your attendance is needed.”

“Your Grace,” you smirked as you curtsied.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she smiled before turning to her own chambers. You waved her goodbye before continuing on your mission. You had elected not to take Seasmoke, worrying that you might wake someone. The air was crisp and cool as you trekked to the other end of the island. When you had finally made it to your meeting place, the breeze from the ocean was salty as it hit your face and tousled your hair, your fingers twirling your ring round and round.

“You never could break that nervous habit,” his familiar tone practically rang in your ear.

You whipped around to face him, “I-I was not sure what to expect. Part of me believed this to be some sort of trap. I’d be a fool not to be nervous.”

He let out a low chuckle as he finally stepped into the moonlight, “You know me well, my love. But I assure you, I am not here to trick you.” Aemond stalked closer to you, one of his hands slowly taking yours while the other rested on the curve of your bump.

“Then why are you here, Aemond? Surely, it is not to back my mother’s claim or convince me of your brother’s.”

“I am to take a new wife.” At first, his words seemed to be in some foreign language. That was the only possible explanation your mind could muster before they finally sank in.

“W-What?” your voice shook, a combination of anger and sadness. You tore away from his touch.

“My brother’s council speaks of annulling our marriage and betrothing me to one of Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters, so that we may ensure the loyalty of Storm’s End. I am to fly there on the morrow to present the terms to Lord Borros in person.”

The tears welled in your eyes, “And you are telling me this, why?” You did not give him the time to answer, “Did you truly need to hurt me even more? Why not just drive a blade through my heart and be done with it, Aemond? I would rather be dead than live just to see you be given to someone else!” you sobbed, “I-”

Your voice faded off as a sharp pain hit your abdomen. A tightening cramp-like feeling making you gasp and nearly keel over.

“Y/N? What is it?”

“The babe...” you grunted between words, trying to catch your breath, “The babe is coming. Now!”

Aemond did not hesitate to scoop you into his arms, the pain of your contractions distracting you from just how fast he was running.

“Stop there!” Ser Erryk tried to step in front of Aemond.

“Princess Y/N is in labour,” he huffed, “You must let me pass.”

“Prince Aemond, you helped in the usurping of the throne. I cannot allow you-”

“Seven Hells, just let him in! We can deal with all this political horse shit afterward!” you cried.

Ser Erryk seemed taken aback, “Y-Yes, Princess.” The guards finally stepped aside as Aemond carried you through the halls, finally arriving at your bedchamber.

“Get the midwives and the Maester now!” he barked his instructions at one of your handmaidens.

“AHHHH!” your screams practically shook the walls of the castle. Nearly all of the staff questioned Aemond’s surprising presence in the room but were too focused on your labours to pay attention for long.

“Y/N?!” your mother’s voice trembled with worry as she entered your room.

“Mother,” you called out for her, shakily raising one of your hands to her.

“I’m here, sweet girl,” she quickly took your hand, sitting at your side, “I’m right here.” She had been too consumed with you to even note Aemond’s presence on the other side of the bed, “What in Seven Hells is he doing here? Guards!”

“No!” you stopped her, “I-I want him here. He...Seven Hells...He needs to be here. Please, M-Mother.”

She nodded hesitantly as she stroked back your hair, “Alright, Y/N.”

“Push, Princess,” one of the midwives encouraged, “Push!”

“AAAGHHHH! FUCK! AHHHHH!” you screamed, pushing with all your might.

Hours and hours seemed to pass and still, your baby was not here. Sweat dripped from your skin as you tiredly clung to Aemond and your mother.

“I-I can’t,” you whimpered, “I’m...exhausted.”

“The child is close, Princess,” the Maester reassured you, “Just a few more-”

“I cannot!” you exclaimed, panting as your head lolled over to Aemond, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head fervently, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I do, A-Aemond. I could not be the wife you needed. I can’t even birth our child. I-It’s no wonder you will be taking a new bride.”

“You are doing what?” your mother glared at him, “Do you truly think you could just make a fool of my daughter? Of your child? Of our family? I could have your head-”

“Your Grace,” he stopped her, “I have no intention of annulling my marriage to your daughter or make a fool of anyone of you especially not Y/N or my child.”

“B-But you told me that...”

“I told you that my brother’s council desires this. I do not desire being married to anyone but you, my love.” he corrected, “Iksā ñuhon hae iksan aōhon.” You are mine as I am yours.

Aemond pressed his forehead to your damp one, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.

“Avy jorrāelan,” I love you. “Now, push. Our child is nearly with us.”

You nodded as you took in a deep breath before resuming your labours. Your nails dug into both your mother and Aemond as you pushed. A sudden relief overcame you as the soft cries of your newborn filled the air.

“A girl,” one of the midwives announced, “As healthy as can be. Praise the Mother!”

Smiles filled the room as they handed the infant to you, “Y-You’re so beautiful,” you cried. But before you could truly enjoy the moment, there was some sort of pressure from between your legs. You assumed it was the afterbirth as you pushed again.

“There is another babe,” the Maester frantically answered as he resumed his work.

“Another b- AHHHHH!” a final scream before those soft whimpers filled the room once again.

“This one’s a boy, Princess,” the midwife smiled, “Just as healthy.”

They handed Aemond the squalling baby boy, “Seven Hells.”

Your mother kissed your forehead, “Well done, sweet girl. They’re beautiful.”

You sighed contently, “Mother, I have something to ask you.”

“Anything,” she smiled.

“I think I want to name her Visenya.”

Tears fell from her eyes, “It is wonderful. Just wonderful,” she sniffled, “And for the boy?”

“Viserys,” you answered, “After Grandsire.”

“My dearest girl,” she sniffled, wiping her tears as she stood from the bed.

“What do you think?” Aemond had hardly pulled his gaze from your children.

He let out a content sigh, “They are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Absolutely perfect.”

And that’s what that entire moment should have been. Absolutely perfect.

Your mother had rejoined your side, Daemon accompanying her this time, “I’m sorry but I must insist that Prince Aemond is removed from these chambers and brought to the cells to await proper questioning.”

“Mother, please,” you begged as the midwife took your son from Aemond while Daemon went to seize him, “Daemon, no!”

“I warned you, Y/N,” Daemon spoke, “This is how it has to be.”

“No, it is not,” Aemond finally cut in.

“You betrayed your Queen,” Daemon scoffed, “You committed treason. And now you must pay-”

Aemond fell to one knee, pulling his sword and raising it towards your mother, “I pledge my sword and my allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” He stood again, sheathing his sword, “I love your daughter, Your Grace. And if bending the knee is all it takes to prove my loyalty to her, then I will do it. And whatever else I must to ensure that I never risk losing her again.”

You bit back tears as you rocked your children. All eyes fell to your mother for the final decision, “Very well. Prince Aemond Targaryen, you are hereby the sworn protector of Princess Y/N Velaryon as well as her children Princess Visenya Targaryen and Prince Viserys Targaryen, and any future heirs she may bear. By order of your Queen.”

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multific · 1 year

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A Love’s Worth

Duke Leto Atreides x Reader

Words: 3.2K

Summary: You changed for a man, a man you loved with all of your heart. Even if your look on life was different.

After your marriage to Leto you had to abandon your home and your life. You learned to be a Lady, wife of a leader.

You were no longer allowed to do the things you loved before all because you fell in love with Leto.

You knew who he was, you knew what people expected from him, you knew the same will be expected from you if you marry him.

But you loved him too much.

You left your home to be with him.

And he loved you. Oh how much he loved you. You were his everything, the love of his life, the mother to his child.

When Paul was born you felt love like never before. Suddenly, you didn't care about anything else but him. Your little boy and your husband became the two most important, nothing else mattered.

"Mommy, can you tell me again about your home?" asked Paul with shiny eyes. The barely four-year-old little man loved your bedtime stories.

"It is called, Kaidis. It is said the grass is greener there. Many animals roam the lands and the entire planet is a big forest."

"What kind of animals?" he asked as you tucked him in.

"All kinds, wolves, big cats, horses, zebras, but most importantly, dragons."

"Wooow."

"Dragons are the protectors of my planet, they are wise, strong and loyal. It is said that every person with Kaidis' blood has a dragon."

"Do you have one Mommy?"

"I sure do. A beautiful white one, I used to ride with her, fly in the sky and help people when I was young. Her name is-"

"Devora." Paul finished for you, knowing the story very well.

"Yes, and-"

"You should be asleep." came a voice from behind you, both you and Paul looked at your husband in the doorway.

"Mom was just finishing up her stories, Father." said Paul as he pouted.

"You should sleep now." Leto said again and you kissed Paul's head.

"Do as your Father says." you said before standing up and heading out.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?" you turned to look at Paul as you stood beside Leto.

"Do you think I have a dragon?" his question made you smile.

"Of course, you have, Sweetheart." Paul nodded, satisfied before he turned to sleep while you and Leto headed for your chambers.

"You should stop telling him useless stories." you turned from your dresser to look at Leto. "You are filling his mind with useless things. He should prepare to become Duke, not listen to fairy tales and creatures that don't exist."

"But they do exist."

"Stop it! Your delusion will harm our son." he let out a sigh. "Please, My Love, don't fill his head with useless stuff."

It hurt, it really did. You knew that people believe the people of Kaidis are delusional and weak. You knew they didn't believe your stories, your creatures. In the eyes of others, everyone was a liar, dragons didn't exist, no huge wolves or cats. They didn't listen to the forest.

And you were okay with that, if they wanted to be blind, so be it.

But the fact that your own husband didn't even let you tell your stories to your own child, hurt on another level.

"I won't tell him anything anymore. I promise." Leto gave you a nod as he rounded the bed and laid down.

---

Throughout the years, you kept your promise. No matter how much Paul would ask for stories, you didn't tell him anything.

And now, as he grew older, it seemed as if he forgot everything you told him.

He became a true Atreides. A true leader.

And with the love you and Leto gave him, you both knew, one day he will be a great leader himself.

"My Duke you have an invitation to the planet Chusuk. Their leader, house of Terra invited you and many other lords. Looks like from all over the system."

"We will go, Steve Terra is an old friend of House Atreides, and I'm interested in what he has to say. Paul is coming with me." Leto nodded as he finished his food.

"And the Lady?" asked a maid, presumably she wished to know if she needed to pack your dresses.

"No, she is not required." Leto's answer was immediate and you felt yourself sinking back into your chair.

While it was true that lately your husband and you haven't been on good terms, this was something else.

You had an argument when he wanted to rebuild your gardens. Your gardens. The one you grew yourself. He wanted to just demolish it all because as he said 'It didn't please his eyes' but you have grown to love those plants, you swore they spoke with you as you helped them grow.

Just another thing your husband took away from you, your marriage has grown cold, and you suspected he had lovers. Whores. Although you had no proof, even just the thought made you ill.

They left the next day to visit house Terra, while you stayed home.

"My Lady, we have a ship incoming." said Duncan as he approached. The poor soul was left with you to take care of you. You did like the man so, you had no issues with him as your bodyguard for the time being.

"Are they already home?"

"Not our ship."

When you saw the ship, you immediately gave permission for it to land.

It was your sister.

"My sister it has been so long." you said as you hugged her and she hugged you back.

"I came because we received an invite from Terra."

"So did we, Paul and Leto already left."

"The invite was sent out to all leaders, and technically, you are the leader of Kaidis. So, I came to you sister and ask you to represent your home."

"I am not able to you know that, I gave you power when I married."

"I am aware, but I can't go myself, I have other matters so, please represent Kaidis, My Queen."

You should have asked further questions, you should have told her no, you were a part of the house of Atreides no longer the Princess of Kaidis.

But then why were you on this ship? Why were you changing into appropriate clothes? And why were you smiling so much? And why was Duncan also changing?

---

"My dear old friend, Leto."

"Hi Steve." the two leaders greeted one another as Leto got off of his ship. "My son, Paul."

"Last time I saw you, you were still in your mother." Steve said with a smile. "Good to see you grew up into a strong man, given your mother... But we are not here to talk about that."

Paul made a face, understanding the implication the man just made about his mother he expected his father to take action.

When his father did nothing Paul felt a pain in his heart.

Then another ship landed, all men heard it but didn't react as Leto went over with Paul to greet another House.

Then the announcer said, out loud.

"The Queen of Kaidis from House Y/L/N." this made almost everyone turn.

Just in time to see you walk towards them, a long robe following you, your hair curled, your skin glowing. Your dress all earth tones, littered with stones and gems. Your crown is simple, on your forehead.

You walked so elegantly. You looked like a real Goddess.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Paul did notice Idaho behind his mother, following closely in similar clothing.

"Queen... so old fashioned." Paul heard someone mention as he turned and gave them a look.

"Didn't expect the Queen herself." Steve stepped over and kissed your knuckles.

"The Queen couldn't come, so she asked me."

"Technically you are still the Queen so..."

"Exactly her words. But my sister did send gifts." you mentioned as people started to bring in chests. "Hope you and your wife will enjoy them."

Steve made a face seeing the gifts.

"How did you know?" he asked with a low voice.

"We always know." you smiled before heading to greet the others.

"Mother, didn't expect to see you here." said Paul as he stepped over to you. "You look... amazing." you smiled.

"Thank you, Love." you turned to Leto, and offered him a smile.

Leto looked at his man as if expecting him to do something. But Idaho only smiled at his Duke.

"You should have seen her smile, My Duke." he said as he followed you towards the others.

House Terra had a gorgeous palace. Lots of open spaces.

During lunch, Steve Terra announced the reason he gathered everyone. His wife standing beside him, you already knew.

"I gathered everyone here to announce that my wife is expecting our first child." amazing news, you smiled and clapped as everyone else.

Lunch went on as some Lords offered their... services... for you, which you all declined, but everyone could feel the cold air between you and Leto.

It surely didn't stop people from making comments. Paul heard them all. They were mainly about your title, family and beliefs.

"Did you know they believe in dragons?" one lord said with a disgusting tone.

"Delusional women. This is exactly why I wouldn't have one on the throne or in power." replied the other.

Their conversation made Paul disgusted as he felt anger rising in him, not only towards the lords but his father, who sat there listening to all of this, not doing anything.

But the mention of Dragons did open Paul's eyes. Suddenly as if his memories were locked away, everything came back like a cold shower.

The stories you told him as a child about these magical beings.

Paul looked at his father, who only took a sip from his drink.

"She betrayed us." Leto said barging into his chambers after lunch, Paul following closely.

"She did not." Paul argued.

"She appeared out of her House, she represented the House Y/L/N when she is house Atreides."

"She didn't do anything that would mean be-"

"Why are you arguing with me Paul?" Leto turned to his son.

"Because no one seems to realize that she is my mother. Not even you, Father. You keep going on about betrayal and all those when we know it is not the case. She said it herself, her sister couldn't appear so she came. It is no betrayal. The real betrayal is that I never even knew I had an aunt."

"Paul-" Leto started but Paul cut him off.

"You are a great father, no doubt about that, but you never stand up for her, never protect her." Paul watched as his father got angry. But he didn't stop. "These people have been talking badly about her from the moment we arrived and you did nothing. Do you even love her?" Leto shot a glare at Paul. "Then act like it, because I'm not sure if she knows anymore."

Leto hated to admit but his son was right.

He fucked up and now he needed to apologize. But how can one simply apologize for all those years?

Leto found you in the gardens, of course. You looked at all the different flowers as you smiled at them.

"You are growing nicely, I used to have one just like you." you said and the pain in Leto's heart grew.

He made a small noise to alert you of his presence as you turned to look at him. When you saw him, you turned back to the flower and he decided to be honest and frank.

"How could I apologize for a lifetime of mistakes I have made?"

"Maybe, an 'I'm so sorry, My Love'? Could be a start." you said as you kneeled and pulled out a weed from beside the flower.

"I know it wouldn't be enough, no matter how many times I say this but I truly am very sorry, My Love. My Father fed me these lies about your people, and I was no better once I grew up. And I did the same to Paul. They say your people are blind but it is not true, we are blind, you see the beauty most people walk right past. I'm sorry for not being better. I'm sorry for locking you out and for all those things I said. I truly love you and I hope that one day you can forgive me." by the time he finished you stood up and turned to him.

You are pleased to not see the great Duke in front of you but instead that boy you met and fell in love with many nights ago. You opened your mouth, trying to form the question you feared getting an answer to for the last months. Leto, as if reading your mind replied.

"I do not have any lovers, never did, never will. You are the one I love and crave, no one else. I beg you to give me another chance and be your husband, a better husband."

"Each time you looked at me like I was some crazy old lady, it hurt. I couldn't tell Paul about my home, about who I used to be. It did hurt but nothing hurt more than when you push me away. I know you are busy and that you have responsibilities and duties and whatnot. I do not expect for you to arrive back to me, ready to hear me talk when you heard people talk all day. I do not expect you to touch me every night. But a small kiss and a gentle greeting would be appreciated. I love you Leto, which is why I stayed and it will never change. I will stay with you as I vowed but I don't want to hide anymore."

"And you don't have to. We will build a new garden, I kept some of your flowers, I'm sorry for taking that away from you. In my eyes, it symbolized my failure as a husband, and I couldn't look at it."

"We will rebuild." you took a step, placing your hand against his cheek as you smiled. Rebuild your garden and your relationship.

Leto leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips. Something you missed greatly.

"We can fix this, I know we can." he said as he pulled back.

"We will." you smiled again.

---

Kaidis was a planet Paul imagined during his childhood but even his imagination couldn't be as amazing as it really was.

The trees, the flowers and so so many animals.

"They are all tame, even the largest ones, if you wish to pet them." you told Paul as his eyes shined, much like how they did when he was a child.

As you all got off the ship, your sister greeted you all. Hugging Paul.

"You were only a baby when I last saw you, you grew a lot." she said as Paul smiled, his aunt was just as lovely and caring as his mother, he definitely saw the resemblance.

"It's time for you to see the other side of your blood. You were born to be an Atreides, but you are also a Y/L/N." she said as she grabbed his arm and guided him. You and Leto stayed behind, letting Paul on his own.

"I want you to meet someone." you said to Leto as he followed you through the garden into the woods.

"She is here somewhere." you said as Leto watched all kinds of animal scatter as they saw him.

"What are those?" he said pointing at an animal he has never saw before.

"Deers. Their antlers are quite something right? They are gentle but they don't trust people." you grabbed his hand as you guided him. Much like a child he pointed at every other animal asking what it was and you explained.

Then a noise Leto has never heard before. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he looked around with alarm.

"It's okay." you told your husband as you took another step towards the clearing in the woods. "Devora." you said as you saw the huge beast emerge from the woods.

Leto was not the kind of man who got scared easily. But this thing, it was huge, with even bigger teeth and wings. It was white but it also weirdly shined in the light.

"Dragon." he said as you rushed over to this huge beast. "Y/N!" he meant to yell at you, stop you but you didn't, all he saw was you running into your death with open arms.

"I missed you my friend." you said as you touched its head. The giant beast laid on the ground, allowing you to pet it. "He's my husband, be nice." you told her before you turned back to Leto.

"It's okay, she won't hurt you."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you think I'd let her eat you?"

"After I destroyed your garden... perhaps?"

"Well, okay, but still, come."

He took slow steps as he watched this huge dragon, when it moved even if it was just a small movement, Leto stopped as you giggled.

"Come on, she won't hurt you. She listens to me."

"How could you tame a beast like her?"

"How could you tame a beast like me, My Duke?" he wanted to laugh but the dragon moved and he forgot to breathe. Leto looked into it's yellow eyes as he touched her.

"Dragons are real, and as much as the entire galaxy wants it to believe that we are all delusional, we aren't."

"Why don't you show them then?"

"They are not worthy to know, as you said, they are blind. And dragons are at least safe like this. No one comes to hunt them or hurt them. I will rather be called a delusional woman than let anyone hurt these precious beings."

Oh how much he loved you was beyond every word.

"Let's go for a fly!" you said as you started to move towards the back of Devora.

"What? Fly? On this thing?"

"Is it that the mighty Duke Atreides is scared?"

"I'm not scared of flying planes, ships but a dragon..."

"You can fly all the ships and planes, I fly dragons."

In the end you tricked him, pulled him close enough for Devora to move and he ended up behind you in her saddle. And up up up she went.

Through the clouds, Leto could barely breathe. The experience was entirely different from flying a ship. He felt so free.

So free and so in love. His arm moved from around you and reached out to a cloud.

"I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you. You couldn't have known."

"I should have listened when you told Paul. I shouldn't have told you to stop. This world is beyond everything. I love you so much." he placed a kiss onto your shoulder as you took Devora down, going back to the palace.

"Mother! Is that?" asked Paul as he rushed over to you.

"Devora." you told him as he smiled.

"Wow."

Leto moved as he pulled you close to him and kissed you. It was weird to kiss him like this, but you did feel the fire in him reignite.

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DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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junk-story · 1 month

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Interview: Ongaku to Hito and Sakurai Atsushi - Ichikawa Tetsushi x Kanemitsu Hiroshi, Part II

This interview is on pages 52-57 of the magazine. Footnotes are included in numbered parentheses and can be found at the bottom. For Part 1 of this interview, click here.

~~~~~~~

Ichikawa: It may have been a shock, but in short, [BUCK-TICK's] material elevated. Really, because they were able to turn their work into art, we can grasp now how they were able to bring forth a decadent rock masterpiece like 21st Cherry Boy. Although that kind of dark decadence is seen as a negative, they established it as an excellent form of entertainment, which is fantastic. When I listened to that, I wondered, “Why has Sakurai made a breakthrough to this point?” What did you make of that?

Kanemitsu: I think he was able to gradually create distance between himself and the band - in a good way. It wasn’t because their relationship had worsened, and there were still times where they’d be up until the morning drinking, but, as you might expect, after nearly 20 years had passed since they debuted, their relationships with people had expanded too, right? When that happened, this sort of scene, where Imai-san would finish an interview and the other 4 were drinking while they waited for him, it almost completely disappeared. This positive sense of individualism is how BUCK-TICK came to be born.

Ichikawa: I see. In the 21st century, I was listening to the works of B-T as a fan only, so I didn’t bear the weight of that darkness.

Kanemitsu: What I call acting out the darkness, that elevated their work as entertainment. But normally, when you have this individualism come to be, it leads to actively pursuing solo activities…and that can be troublesome, certainly.

Ichikawa: That’s the self-indulgence I talked about earlier. (laughs) When that happens in a regular band, they disband and it’s over. Suddenly some new thing starts, and the other members end up not knowing what to do. But Sakurai ended up feeling guilt about this, because he was a man with a kind heart. Thanks to that, the unique worth they had as a band that continued for 35 years with its original members came to be.

Kanemitsu: In what ways did you feel Sakurai-san’s kindness?

Ichikawa: Well, in many ways, the Sakurai Atsushi I carry with me is still a yankii(1), you know, a good-looking yankii full of chivalry. We talked about the time when his mother passed before, but there is no shortage of that kind of material. For instance, the launching issue of Ongaku to Hito. I asked Sakurai to be in it as well, and even though it wasn’t around the timing of any [album] release, he said, “Well, since it’s a magazine Ichikawa-san is creating, I’ll do it”, and in the middle of a national tour he came back to Tokyo from Numazu after the concert was over, and it was after midnight at an oden food stall in Sendagaya where we had a no-makeup photoshoot and interview. He was a man who could simply do such things.

Kanemitsu: What about Sakurai Atsushi made us so charmed by him, do you think?

Ichikawa: Hmmm…his face?

Kanemitsu: Well, that’s some brutal honesty!(2) But certainly, it was important. (laughs)

Ichikawa: Wahahaha. There’s that issue with Sakurai Atsushi on the cover where he’s wearing an unremarkable white shirt and has a slight smile, right?(3) That one is among my top three favorites. For some reason, it was a time where there weren’t any interesting releases, and there was no content to be had during this lull, so we ended up in a tight spot for an artist to put on the cover. To be honest, we made the offer to Sakurai like, “heeeelp!”, and I was grateful when he readily consented. They also didn’t have any releases coming up, so I suggested we try a risky(4) cover with no decadence, where Sakurai had a casual appearance and is looking into the camera with a smile; he had also become more concentrated(5) at that time and said, “Let’s do it!”

Kanemitsu: That’s why he cut his hair without anyone’s permission. (laughs)

Ichikawa: I’m glad we didn’t go that far with it. (laughs) But really, Sakurai Atsushi could not be detached from my magazine. There were always plenty of guys skillful at conversation, but I have never met another frontman who, even though he wasn’t good at speaking, could expose his inner thoughts to such a point. Of course, there were also those with negative feelings, like, “It’s all just to tickle the B-T girls’ fancies”, but I hoped, even without him knowing, if we could drain the low-water swamp called Sakurai Atsushi, something amazing would happen. I wanted to do something with this man. It was the same for you too, right, Kanemitsu?

Kanemitsu: I didn’t have that “I want to do something”. But I did have something like a maternal instinct. (laughs)

Ichikawa: (wry laugh) I understand that too. You can’t leave him alone.

Kanemitsu: Because at some point, there were only a few articles about the album releases outside of ours.

Ichikawa: Why was that? As I said earlier, during my time, he spoke frantically as if it was needed to confirm something to himself - so in other words, something must have changed where he could become more self-contained.

Kanemitsu: It was like Sakurai-san created his own style. As though, dressed up in decadence and gothic imagery, he tried to act out his ideal Sakurai Atsushi.

Ichikawa: The same as kabuki. The great name of “Sakurai Atsushi” was focused as he would be in the traditional Japanese arts.

Kanemitsu: Yes, yes. I think that was a good thing.

Ichikawa: It finally makes sense to me. So that’s why it happened. That Prince of Darkness character was created.

Kanemitsu: There was what you call the Prince of Darkness character, but he also loved cats, which brought out his playful face. If such a person were to appear on TV with Shiina Ringo, everyone would be hooked.

Ichikawa: A rare creature, really. (laughs) This may be inappropriate, but it seemed to me that Sakurai could only bring the curtain down(6) on Sakurai Atsushi in the way he did, or by going into a life of seclusion, unknown to anyone. Because he was carrying such sin(7) with him.

Kanemitsu: Well, as someone who saw him from the 21st century point of view, I feel that he’d aged well in this way, and he wanted to enjoy the rest of his life happily. It’s just that he was a sensitive person, so he was affected by things like children being displaced by war, the oppression of people based on gender, and so on, and when he tried to get closer to the emotions of the weak, he would be forced to remember his own pain, so I suppose in the current era, it was hard for him to live…that’s what I think, anyway.

Ichikawa: Hearing the talk about the Sakurai Atsushi of the 21st century from Kanemitsu today, it makes sense now. For me, who only knew the Sakurai of the 20th century, the Sakurai of the 21st century is like a different person. I was very fascinated with him all the same. I don’t mean this in a bad way, but it’s like he established a whole separate persona. How can I say this…maybe I could call it guilt. I could see his guilt so clearly through his songs in the 20th century, and it was made invisible in the 21st century. And, invisible things aren’t bad ones. Because that just shows how accomplished he was at fulfilling his role as Prince of Darkness. That’s also how he elevated to being a charming big name.

Kanemitsu: As a musician, an artist, the purity of his expression had reached a level so high as to be incomparable [to anyone else].

Ichikawa: His skill in the 21st century clearly went up. But, although the Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century was still a work in progress, that progress had turned into a serious dead end that was plain to see. So there were many people who were able to empathize, and I think he himself, the band, the media, and the fans all came together, able to become a community with a shared destiny. It’s strange, but in other media, BUCK-TICK was just shown as a cool band, right? However, at Ongaku to Hito, it wasn’t like that in either the 20th or 21st century.

Kanemitsu Because we got to see them as 5 people with 5 different styles of character.

Ichikawa: In other words, they’re “Osomatsu-kun”(8).

Kanemitsu: Hahahahaha!

Ichikawa: When I was doing it, they were “Osomatsu-kun”, and while Kanemitsu’s been doing it they’ve been “Osomatsu-san”. Their appearance between the Showa and Heisei eras was totally different, but the original people were the same. In both the 20th and 21st centuries, Sakurai was Sakurai, and his foundation and attitude didn’t change, only his appearance from that of an unusual self-deprecating man to the Prince of Darkness did; as a result, he was popular in both cases. So, as Ongaku to Hito, speaking from our beginning, he is the person we should be the most grateful for, and he was the kind of man who made me feel like I had to include him in our publication.

Kanemitsu: He was. No matter how cool Sakurai Atsushi looked on the stage, everyone knows that he actually also had these traits.

Ichikawa: Of course, with that presence, that appearance, and the look in his eyes, no one would know he was actually this cute and loveable character.

Kanemitsu: Through the medium of Ongaku to Hito, you and I wrote about those parts of him, so now everyone knows.

Ichikawa: That’s true…a long time ago, when I was doing a late-night Friday FM radio live broadcast, I had Sakurai on as my first guest. We were at the Satellite Studio in Ginza, and even though I hadn't asked them to come, Takuro and Hisashi [of GLAY] came. We finished at 3 AM and the 4 of us were drinking when Sakurai said, “Will you come to my place?”, which was unusual. When we went there, the windows - all of the windows - had these pitch black curtains on them, it was like being at a planetarium. (laughs)

Kanemitsu: Hahahahahaha!

Ichikawa: We drank in that dark room until we eventually were struck by sleep, but even when I woke up, it was pitch black and I had no idea what time it was. (laughs) When the sun was at its peak, I woke those 2 [from GLAY] up and they went home, but while that was happening, Takuro said to Hisashi, “If you’d told me 10 years ago that I’d go to the home of BUCK-TICK’s Sakurai Atsushi and drink together with him, I never would have believed you”, and I’ve never forgotten that. It was purely moving, emotionally.

Kanemitsu: Everyone wanted to become like Sakurai Atsushi.

Ichikawa: It must have been a dream for them. However, it’s a dream that no one could achieve. This sounds misleading, but I think you have to want to be like Yoshiki [of X JAPAN], if you’re going to abandon yourself to despair(9). (wry laugh) But no matter what gimmicks you make use of, you’ll never be Sakurai Atsushi. And for better or worse, it was tough.

Kanemitsu: I’ve said this many times, but him finding that gothic style was big.

Ichikawa: The gothic atmosphere seemed like maybe the one he was most comfortable in. The decadence created a kind of surreal and abnormal worldview. But Sakurai Atsushi himself was not abnormal at all, nor was he trying to intentionally deviate strongly from what’s accepted(10). It was just the suit of armor(11) that best fit when he was confronting the world, definitely.

Kanemitsu: It was Sakurai Atsushi’s suit of armor, wasn’t it. But whether he ended up putting it on or not, he empathized with people’s sadness, and he was a person who could shed tears. And because that seeped out, everyone loved him. Those feelings [of empathy] were expressed in what became his last album, Izora.

Ichikawa: I see. Well, perhaps he would have continued on expressing it, if he could.

Kanemitsu: I really think so. There were yet many things he could do, and many he would have wanted to do.

~~~~~~~ Footnotes: (1) I think most people into this scene are familiar with this term, but in case you aren’t - yanki/yankii refers to a young delinquent, usually one who dresses in a sort of street/biker style. (2) If someone has ever said to you, “wow, tell us how you really feel!”, it has the same sort of feeling to it as that, although a bit more polite since Ichikawa is the elder of the two, lol. (3) I believe he is referring to the January ‘95 issue cover, based on his description. (4) Risky in the sense of something not usually done. “Nikopachi” is the type of photography he describes, and online sources generally spoke negatively of it as something not befitting professional photography. (5) Literally “boiled down”. I think this is a reference to paring back his visuals from what they were earlier in their career. (6) This is a metaphor for Sakurai’s passing - but I liked the nuance of his wording and tried to retain it. (7) This word really does not translate well - in different contexts it can be sin, guilt, karma. I translate it again as “guilt” below as it’s more befitting the context, but in all cases here, it’s a sort of heavy emotional load brought upon oneself. My husband’s preferred definition translated to “a living with the burden of past wrongdoings and feeling a sense of remorse”. (8) Per Wikipedia: a comedy manga that revolved around of group of brothers who cause all sorts of mischief. (9) I asked for more clarity on this - what he is getting at is, it’s possible, if you really want to, to become like Yoshiki, but no matter what you do, you can never become like Atsushi. (10) The direct translation for this was “be a heretic”, but heretic is a loaded word in English, and this does not have any Christian overtones. (11) He specifically says “mobile suit”, as in the suits from Gundam.

#buck tick #buck-tick #sakurai atsushi #ongaku to hito #quartz translates

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snowblossomreads · 5 months

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Day 14: A Light in the Night

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Wife!Reader

Summary: We revisit the Colonel and his wife, along with their little dog Tulip as they ready to welcome a new life into the world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): pregnancy, brief description of child birth, fluff, and wholesomess!

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: And we are back with these little lovelies from day 10! I have to admit I didn't think to make this a sequel yet my brain was like yes we can use this prompt! So here we are~ I hope you enjoy this little cute fluff 😍😍

Snow melted, flowers grew and wilted, and leaves of all colours scattered the ground before a blanket of snow returned to cover the lands around Delaford Estate with its beautiful brightness that made everything shine brightly.

Some things had stayed the same, like the staff at the estate, and her sweet Christopher, handsome and gentle as he always was. While other things had changed just like seasons did.

Namely [Y/n]'s belly, which was now large and round, filled with the babe that she, and her husband were expecting sometime soon, if the doctor's words were to be taken.

Honestly, while she did get excited at the sight of her belly, she had to admit she was ready to give birth as she felt a bit cumbersome with how large she felt. Dressing took longer in the morning, walking was a tedious task after a few months and don't even get her started about sleeping or the constant need to well...relive herself.

It wasn't all bad though as she had mentioned.

For one, her Christopher had become even softer and doting towards her which she hadn't thought possible considering his naturally sweet disposition. Yet he had.

'Come darling, here let me help you out of bed, I don't wish for you to strain yourself so much. It drives me mad, the thought of you and our babe being hurt.'

'Is there anything you wish for me, or the servants to bring you while I am in town, my love? You need only tell me and I shall retrieve it with haste."

He was so ridiculously sweet, sweeter than any person alive she bet, especially when they would lay in bed at night and he would gently stroke her stomach. Kissing her swollen belly, he would whisper to the child within about how much he was looking forward to meeting them, and how he hoped they were being kind to their mother while she kept them safe as they grew.

She could tell how excited he was as his eyes always lit up when he got to speak about how they were expecting, and his excitement increased as they got closer and closer to the winter season when the babe would be born.

So when the signs of labour began to show, and she felt a small pop below and a gush of wetness in her undergarments, she knew it would not be long before the babe they had waited so long for would be in the world.

"Martha!" [Y/n] cried out urgently as she struggled to her feet from her chair near the fireplace.

Tulip, her naughty but sweet dog that had grown in height, sprang up and began to bark loudly, only to be hushed by [Y/n] who waddled to the entrance of the parlour. She was met with Martha and Christopher who had come to see what the commotion was about.

Looking at both of them, her hand on her stomach, and a dark stain beginning to grow on her nightgown, which the other two seemed to spot simultaneously, she stuttered out a nervous,

"I-I think it's time."

As if her words set something off in him, Brandon’s posture immediately changed into one of a seasoned leader who was ready to command his household to help his wife during this important moment.

"Martha take [Y/n] to the bed now!” He barked, firm yet kind were his words, and Martha answered with an equally firm ‘yes sir!’ ready to take orders from the lord of the house. “I will send a rider to fetch the doctor! Wake everyone up once [Y/n] is in bed!"

"Darling that is unnecessary!” [Y/n] exclaimed, only to wince at the pain the excitement seemed to cause. “Do not wake the house I beg you we just need the doctor and Martha no one else."

"Absolutely not, everyone has been waiting for this day and I will not deprive them of it, and Martha may need some extra hands is that not right?"

"Of course sir!" Martha answered with glee as her eyes twinkled with joy. “We’ve all been waiting for our lady to give birth! No one will mind being woken my dear! They would probably be quite angry if we didn’t wake them!”

"Good now please there is no time to waste!"

"Oooh, how delightful dear!" Martha gasped, going to [Y/n]'s side and gently guiding the woman while Tulip trotted behind them, tail wagging from the buzzing energy that was around her humans."Come there is no time to waste! You should have been in bed already, but oh you and your strong will my lady!

Both sets of people rushed off in different directions, and soon [Y/n] was in the birthing bed while a rider was running to mount their horse and fetch the local doctor.

Candle lights in each window of the estate lit up one by one, illuminating the dark home in the night as news spread that the lady of the house was soon to bring a child into the world. And it wasn't long before the sounds of birthing began.

Had she thought she knew what she was in for after talking to other mothers and to Martha, herself who was a trained midwife and a mother, she was sorely mistaken when the first pains of labour began.

Even Christopher, her poor dear sweet Christoper was going mad as she cried in pain each time she tried to push the babe out. He sat by her side, refusing to leave even when the doctor said that the process was far too messy for a gentleman of his status to watch.

"Sir I have been in trenches filled with mud and the bodies of good men who are no longer here. I have seen messy, and this doctor, this bringing of new life, while messy, is wondrous and I shall not leave my wife's side until I know she and our child are safe." He was so stern when he said it, she had thought someone had taken her sweet and mild manner Christopher away with the aghast way the doctor stared at him.

But when he looked at her with such worry and concern, she knew he was still there only wanting her pain to end.

And in the wee hours of the morning, relief come for [Y/n] and all of those in the home who waited with bated breath. With one last push and a loud shout, a sharp wail filled the halls of Delaford estate.

"A healthy baby boy!"

Both the doctor and Martha announced after the babe had been cleaned, examined, and swaddled cosily to keep him warm.

"And my is his constitution healthy indeed! Larger than any one of the children I've delivered this year. Oh, he'll be just fine this winter Colonel, my lady!" The doctor stated as he handed the crying baby to [Y/n] who was eager to hold the little wiggling thing.

"Oh Christopher," [Y/n] whispered in wonder, as she stared in awe at the baby who had calmed immediately when he was placed on her chest. "He's so beautiful oh god-." Her voice wavered as emotion filled her throat and eyes.

"He is beautiful indeed," her husband murmured as he stared in wonder with her at the child who rested against her. "Just like his mother beautiful and marvelous."

She turned to him and was surprised yet not, as she saw his eyes glassy and filled with tears. Her strong and calm love. Steady and unwavering as the English oak trees that dotted the estate, was filled with emotions at the sight of his little family that had grown.

They stayed this way for a moment, silently marvelling at the child, as Martha and the doctor helped clean [Y/n] up. Once done, they bowed to the couple and left to give them a moment of privacy. The Brandons thanked them before they left, and only moments after the door had shut, did husband and wife hear the cheers of the house.

It brought a large smile to both of their faces knowing how much support and love the staff of Delaford already had for their babe.

"You make me such a happy man darling such a happy man," he stated as he kissed her temple and leaned down to kiss the babe's forehead.

The little thing stirred at his father's touch, yet made no noise of protest. This seemed to amuse them both as they let out a watery chuckle at his actions or lack thereof.

"And you my Christoper, you make me such an unbelievably happy woman. Oh goodness our babe, I pray that he is as strong, yet kind and gentle as his father," she whispered stroking the child's cheek. "You and him, you both are my everything darling."

"Woof!"

Their eyes widened, and they turned to look at Tulip, who had been calm and quiet the entire time during [Y/n]'s labour. Only now did she seem interested in reminding them she was still here.

"I do not believe Tulip agrees with her being left off the list as our son's sister," Brandon mused as the dog stared at them with a look of expectancy.

Letting out a delighted laugh at the dog's antics, [Y/n] smiled and giggled.

"And yes, you to my Tulip I could never forget you! You do have a little brother to take care of and protect now."

This seemed to appease the dog who let out a softer bark before she laid her head down and closed her eyes.

Laughter from both was music to each other's ears as they took in the new life they had been gifted with. A new life, in the wintertime to light up the darkness that the season was known for because of its early nights. It was most importantly a new life in the Brandons’ home, one that completed the little family they had both wanted.

A/N: Yaaaay oh goodness Brandon would be such a good father, he's so gentle and soft spoken. I think he doesn't have a mean bone in his body even if he were in the army. Stay warm friends it's getting chilly out here!

#colonel brandon x reader #rickmas2023 #rickmas #blossom writes

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fandom-space-princess · 12 days

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Title: "Today my grandmother is 94 and does not love me."

[file under: pseudo-autobiographical short fiction. things that are neither essays nor poems.]

“Call your grandmother,” my father says. Over the phone his voice is a flat buzz. “It’s her birthday.”

———

The last time I spoke to my grandmother, she asked me if I know what will happen to me after I die. I admitted uncertainty. This was the wrong answer. My grandmother’s devotion is unassailable — her devotion to her God, that is, to her religion. Uncertainty is foremost among the many things devotion cannot abide.

She told me I did not love my family. I had no idea how to respond.

———

“She’d love it”

———

I do not call my grandmother. I am trying to write a piece of science fiction, by which I mean that I am daydreaming about Venus: imagining lofted cities adrift in the Venusian troposphere, skittering away between clouds like daughters cut free of their families.

Science (noun): knowledge, especially that gained through experience. Fiction (noun): something invented by the imagination or feigned.

Venus is always accepting prayers. You can petition her for adoration, validation, for partners of every kind to know you with wanting hands and willing minds.

When my grandmother looks at me she sees a ghost of the person she wishes I had become. Here I stand, miserable revenant thing, un-woman, in the place where she expected a granddaughter to stand. She does not know me. I think perhaps she never has.

———

“if you’d call.”

———

If I didn’t love my family, wouldn’t I know it?

(Science: a girl is born with all the eggs she’ll ever have. My grandmother’s body knew me while I was only potential within her not-yet-daughter.)

Evangelicals love eggs, because they love nothing so much in other people as the potential for them to become what the evangelical wants them to be.

Potential is what you call uncertainty when it wears its Sunday best. Genetic destiny is what you call the gifts you inherit from your grandmother: broad hips and the ability to carry a grudge, predisposition to diabetes and the inability to hold a single civil conversation with your distaff relatives.

I talk to my grandmother like I talk to god, which is to say: mostly in my head. Because I am trying to cultivate kindness of spirit, and given that an inclination to forgiveness was not among her heritable traits, I also pray that no one is listening. ———

My father tells me to call my mother’s mother. On this same subject, my own mother is silent.

———

(Fiction: one day, my family might know me for who I am, and find this person worthy.)

The heat, the pressure — to stand on the surface of Venus would destroy a person utterly. Science tells us that once, the goddess’ world may have had an atmosphere very like our own, before a runaway greenhouse effect rendered her planet uninhabitable to life in the forms we understand. My grandmother does not believe in climate change, but she does believe that the path I have taken through life has ruined me.

Someday soon I will ask a doctor to reach into my body and excise my own womb. I will complete the divorce from potential I began on the day I started to become my own person (on the day I was born). I am motherland to no one: I will bear no daughters.

———

My grandmother asks me if I love my family. I hand her a page torn from a Bible, on which every word is crossed out save “begot.”

#creative writing #original fiction #fsp writes #< guess i need an original/non fanfic work tag so that's what we're going with #having a normal one today. it's fine.

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moonbeamgoddess · 3 months

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Songcord

Neteyam x sister!reader

AN Note: This is kind of my first time writing fanfiction and putting it out there, so it may not be the best. Also there might be grammar and spelling mistakes I haven’t caught. This also does contain spoilers if you haven’t seen the movie yet.

Word Count: 800+

Warnings: Slight angst, talks of death

Tanhì means Star in Na’vi.

@cafekitsune made the divider.

“What are you doing Tanhì?” Neteyam asked as he sat down next to me on the rock.” I gazed up at Neteyam and gave him a small smile. “I’m just looking at our songcords, reminiscing about how our life has been,” I answered Neteyam as I looked back at the songcords. I started with the first bead that our mother put on Neteyam’s and mine. It was the day Neteyam and I were born, our mother always told us how it was one of the happiest days of her life. That twins were rare to have during the pregnancy but considered a blessing from Ewya.

The next beads represent when Neteyam and I became older siblings, when Kiri was adopted into our family, and then Lo’ak. Then I rubbed the bead that represented when Neteyam and I caught our first fish while our father was teaching us how to hunt fish. I still remember how happy Neteyam and I were when we made a perfect shot with the bow and arrow, and how we wanted our father to be proud of us. “I remember the big smile that was on your face when you perfectly caught that fish, shooting by the rocks just like Dad taught us.” I looked back at Neteyam and had a bright smile. “I remember how proud we were of each other” I softly said as I looked out at the ocean. The stars were shining bright, reminding me of when Neteyam and I would gaze up at the stars when we were younger and when he decided my nickname would be Tanhì because of my love for the stars.

“Remember after how after we gained our ikrans and how we always went flying? And how I would always want to stay in the sky as for long as I could?” I asked Neteyam but didn’t expect a reply. I then started humming the song to Neteyam’s songcord that I heard my mother singing. I then held my songcord close to me, it was becoming longer than Neteyam’s. “You're a good brother. You did everything to protect your family, even if you got hurt from it. But that never matters to you, because you would risk everything as long as we were safe.” I then look back at Neteyam and held his hand in mine, I look at his four fingers while gazing at my five fingers. It was one of the ways our parents could tell us apart when we were younger.

“Lo’ak never meant for his words to hurt you when he wanted to find Payakan, and said he was his brother. He always thought of you as his brother, you were everything to him, to us. He just was feeling alone.” I rub my fingers against the back of Neteyam’s hand, but everything felt cold around me. “You always protected us, even if it meant you had to take the blame” I started to ramble but Neteyam rested his hand against my cheek to calm me. “I know, you guys mean everything to me. You mean everything to me. You’re my family, I would take a bullet for any of you” Neteyam softly said to calm me down.

I pressed my face into his hand as closed my eyes to calm myself. “But now you have to be the protector. I can’t always be there for you guys.” I open my eyes and looked up at Neteyam with confusion. “What do you mean? You’ll always be here, you have to be, you’re my twin brother. You know me better than anyone. I can’t protect this family without you, I’m not mentally strong like you are.” I quietly said to Neteyam. “Because I’m not here anymore Tanhì, open your eyes. Please, you can’t keep holding onto the past anymore, you need to keep moving forward.” Neteyam gave me a soft smile and kissed my forehead. “I can’t stay by your side anymore, please stop hanging onto things that are dead and gone. It’s not healthy for you.” Neteyam quietly said, his voice sounding far away.

“But—“ I opened my eyes but realized Neteyam was gone. My breath started to quicken as I looked around, seeing no sign of him. I looked back down at Neteyam’s and my songcord. His was becoming shorter than mine. I started shaking, crying my eyes out as memories came back. Neteyam was gone, he had been gone since yesterday. I remember how he was shot, how the bullet went through and how I knew he wouldn’t make it.

How he died scared and wanting to go home, wanting to be back in the forest. I then looked down at the rock and saw how there was still blood staining the rock, like a permanent reminder of his death. I tightened my grip on my songcord…hating how it was longer than Neteyam’s. I looked up at the stars, wishing how I could hear Neteyam call me Tanhì just one last time, to feel the comfort of his hugs from when I had a bad day or just needed a hug. “Now you in the stars, with Ewya taking care of you…But the stars feel so far” I said to myself as tears streamed down my face. I never wanted to say goodbye because it would mean that Neteyam was gone forever, and I couldn’t let him go.

I couldn’t stand how my songcord was becoming longer than his.

#Spotify #neteyam x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #avatar x sully!reader #avatar way of water #atwow neteyam #atwow #avatar 2022 #neteyam x sister!reader #sully!reader

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i-am-traveling-the-multifandom · 6 months

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Bombastic Side-Eye

Team black supporters: Alicent is literally stealing Rhaenyra's claim on the throne AND GIVING IT TO AEGON!!! He is a rapist and a drunkard. He literally raped Helaena. Her own daughter! What is she even thinking?!! And team green supporters are happy?!!

*Me and any other sensible Team green supporter thinking about how awful Aegon is and completely hating on Aegon*:

So I got this comment. I'm sorry I didn't answer earlier.

Alicent in the show was 18 years old when Aegon was born. This is a really young age to become a parent and you can't expect her to be good at parenting. Right? Also, in my opinion she only saw two types of parents in her youth (I mean before she got married)

Otto, her own father who wanted to use her for gaining more political power. He readily gave her up to Viserys knowing very well what would happen, heck he probably wanted it to happen so his blood could be on the iron throne. So, Otto was a manipulative parent.

Viserys, Rhaenyra's father and Alicent's husband. He neglected Rhaenyra one might argue he loved her and spoiled her (which is true) but he didn't prepare her for this world they lived in and this family she was born in. Even after Aegon was born and there was another suitable heir to the throne he didn't tell her what to do if he tries to usurp the throne. His other children completely neglected and that is clear enough from his actions. So, Viserys was a neglectful parent.

These were the men she saw raising children and of course she would act like they did. So,

She neglected Aegon's needs which led to him becoming the horrible person he is when he is crowned king. Like Viserys.

2. She decided to wed Heleana to Aegon for political gain even though she obviously knew what kind of a person he was. Like Otto

3. She manipulated Aemond and told him bad things about team green to further make him hate them (he obviously hates them for the eye). Like Otto.

See House Of The Dragons is just a show about which war criminals you support and I will stand by, Lady Alicent Of House Hightower, The Dowager Queen, The Queen In Chains, Wife Of Viserys Targaryen, Mother Of Aegon, Aemond, Heleana and Daeron Targaryen till my final breath!

GIVE MY QUEEN A BREAK YA'ALL SHOULD UNDERSTAND AND SUPPORT HER LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND RHAENYRA!!!😅

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years

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Coming Home (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Part one | Part Two

Hi! I would just like to preface this part by saying that I know some things probably don’t accurately line up with the events of Rhysand’s history…I’ve kind of muddied the waters with that one for the sake of the story. But who cares? We’re all here for the Azriel content anyway! Enjoy!

Warnings: Mention of trauma.

⧪

Trouble.

How could you have forgotten the endearing nickname that Azriel had once had for you? One that nobody but him had ever called you? A nickname born from all the times he’d stumbled upon you making mischief and turned a blind eye. All the situations you’d managed to talk your way out of that had resulted in no more than a funny story. And as you got older, your shameless flirtatiousness.

Trouble. You’d used to love it when he called you that. It’d had you glowing, had you feeling special. He had been undeniably fond of you, and the soft, jesting nickname had always been testament to that.

You sat in the kitchen the next morning, that very nickname the only thing clanging around your head and keeping you awake. The rest of the house was still dead quiet, not even a creaking floorboard interrupting your silent brooding. The events of the day before both filled you with warmth — and an ice cold realisation.

It didn’t matter how many years had passed — one hundred or ninety-nine and a half — you were still just as in love with Azriel as you had been when you’d walked away from Velaris.

“You’re up early.”

You jumped out of your thoughts, glancing up just as Feyre stepped into the kitchen, slipper-clad feet whispering against the floor. Her hair was unbound, and she wore just a modest nightgown and a robe tied around it. She truly was beautiful.

“My mind woke me up.” You admitted, smiling.

“Ah. I worried that perhaps the idiots had woken you up when they hurried out for their snowball fight.”

You snorted. “They still do that?” The memory made your heart warm. “But, no, I have to blame all the excitement from yesterday for me being awake.”

The smile she returned suggested otherwise — that she expected it was down to more than just lingering excitement. She passed you and poured herself a cup of tea, sitting at the table.

“Thank you for welcoming me.” You said. “I’m sorry I turned up so suddenly. I just…”

“Worried that you’d back out of coming because of your feelings for a certain Spymaster?”

You choked on a swallow of your own tea, your cheeks heating. “What?”

Feyre smiled gently. “Call it female intuition. Or perhaps I just have a keen eye for these things. I couldn’t help but notice some…tension between the two of you.”

Gods, if Feyre had picked up on it within hours of being in the same room as you, it must have been obvious to every single one of them. You wanted the ground to swallow you up.

She read that very thought on your face, emitting a soft laugh. “I don’t think anyone else observes these things quite as much as I do, don’t worry.”

You did worry. But you inclined your head in thanks all the same. Your unrequited feelings would no doubt become obvious to everyone eventually.

“Can I ask…” Feyre cleared her throat. “How long have you…?”

“Been in love with him?” Just saying it had your cheeks burning even more. You slapped a hand to them like you were trying to smother flames. “…Pretty much since I was old enough to recognise such feelings for what they were. It was always…different, with Az.”

Her head fell into a tilt. “How so?”

Good question. You sat back in your seat, chewing your lip. Traversing places far from home had afforded you the time and freedom to stow these thoughts away to the very corners of your mind. It had been a while since you’d sat and thought of them in such detail. But it was inevitable that you would return to brooding over it, with your homecoming.

“Well…” You hummed quietly, thoughtfully. “Obviously Rhys is my brother. Our mother had me much later than him…and our father had no interest in me whatsoever. I’ve never known why. But even though Rhys was exploring his young adulthood, finding out who he was, dealing with war, he didn’t hesitate to take over that fatherly role so that I didn’t miss out. He was naturally protective of me, and Cassian and Azriel were part and parcel of that protection. But whereas I always had a sibling-type relationship with Cas…as I grew, I was never able to emulate that same feel with Azriel.”

As Feyre nodded slowly, you laughed at the memory of your younger self. “They were around a lot when I was young. I used to sneak out of our mother’s cottage in Windhaven and follow them to the training rings because I so badly wanted to be able to do what they did. One of the Illyrians found me hiding and watching one day and thought he’d teach me a lesson for sneaking around where I wasn’t welcome. He was just hauling me over his shoulder when Az came out of nowhere and made him regret it. Then he ditched his training to make sure I got home safely. That was when the crush began.”

Feyre laughed softly. “Sounds exactly like the noble princes in human stories.”

“That was exactly how I saw him.” You chuckled. “I hung off his every word after that. When I would sneak out to watch them train, it solely became him I would watch. When the three of them would stumble home, covered in dirt and sweat, and sit down for dinner, it was Az I would sit next to. I’m sure I annoyed the hell out of him.”

You swallowed then, the more painful memories pushing to the front of your mind and souring your mouth.

“...When my mother and I were attacked by Tamlin’s family…and she died…everything changed.” You cleared a lump in your throat. “I barely survived. I was so gravely injured that I was unconscious for days and days, and Madja thought I may never wake. When I did, I awoke to the knowledge that both my parents were dead, and Rhys was now High Lord. I don’t think any amount of training or court posturing could have truly prepared him for such a sudden responsibility…and on top of that, he had me — a traumatised teenager — to look after.”

You knew from the letters between you and Rhys while you’d been away that Feyre’s own teenage years hadn’t been the easiest. To talk to somebody new and fresh — somebody who hadn’t been there with you at the time — was something you hadn’t realised you needed so badly. It was…cathartic. The easing of a weight that perpetually lived on your shoulders.

“I didn’t make it easy for Rhys.” You admitted. “For the first couple of years, I completely went into myself. I didn’t talk about what Tamlin’s father had done to me. I was…a shell. And he was worried sick. And then in my mid-teens, I began to act out. To drink, to get myself into trouble…to the point that even Cassian began to tell me off. They didn’t know what to do with me or my behaviour, and they had enough to deal with. Enough responsibility. I got yelled at by Rhys and Cas a lot.”

Feyre looked at you curiously. “And what about Azriel?”

“Azriel had a more gentle approach.” You smiled. “He had a lot of trauma of his own and I think he understood me on a different level. By the time I was reaching my late teens, he began to train me, to teach me how to channel my pain and trauma into something productive. Sometimes we would talk, and sometimes we would just enjoy silence together. I began to change…to heal. I was becoming an adult, and my relationship with my brother…with everyone…improved. I began to enjoy life again…to have nights out at Rita’s and family meals and late night walks through the city with people I cared for. And that connection between Azriel and I remained…and strengthened. I thought he enjoyed being with me as much as I enjoyed being with him. That he might have similar feelings to mine. I guess I’d gotten inside my own head, and it never occurred to me that he could never see me like that.”

“…so?”

“So I tried to kiss him. On Starfall. I was twenty and totally in love with him by that point…” You met Feyre’s gaze, chuckling softly. “But he pushed me away and began to apologise for giving me the wrong impression. I was so mortified and hurt that I left. For almost an entire century.”

Feyre grinned. “You don’t do things by halves.”

“Nope.”

Gods, it was so good to just talk. You could talk to Mor, of course, but the waters there were slightly muddied…by Az’s feelings for her. Amongst other things. You hadn’t thought you’d ever see a day where Azriel wasn’t pining for her.

And now there was Elain.

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “…are Azriel and Elain…” You didn’t want to offend Feyre, being her sister and all.

It surprised you when Feyre rolled her eyes. “Gods, don’t even get me started on that.” She shook her head in disapproval. “Both Elain and Nesta had a lot of choice taken from them when they went into the cauldron. I don’t think Elain’s issue with her mate is so much a problem with Lucien as it is a problem with yet another fate being decided for her. I think…whatever she feels for Azriel is almost a way of her rebelling against the cauldron or the mother and choosing something for herself. And perhaps it’s a similar situation with Az…when he gave up on hope where Mor is concerned. He decided to take some of that choice back.”

You nodded slowly in thought. It made sense…but it was also equally likely that Azriel and Elain were just two people drawn to each other, mates or no mates. That there wasn’t some ulterior reason behind it. They just wanted each other.

And Azriel would never want you. You knew this. You would always be Rhys’s sister he was so fond of, a lost person he empathised with, connected with in pain and trauma.

That was all. But you didn’t want to stew on those thoughts yet again.

Feyre seemed to sense this. She smiled brightly, sitting up. “So. Now that you’re back, what do you plan to do?”

That was a better subject. “I dropped by to see Madja when I entered Velaris. She gave me a lecture, of course, about disappearing for so long.” You grinned. “And then she asked me to work in her clinic. She says she’s old and tired and wants to take a step back, have a more background role. So I guess I’m going to be Velaris’s senior healer. That’ll keep me busy.” Busy enough to ignore my feelings, you didn’t add.

“Perfect.” Feyre grinned. “…I’m really glad you decided to come back, you know. Rhys is over the moon. And it’ll be like having another sister around.”

A sister you’d never had. You smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

Maybe you could make this return a good thing. Maybe it didn’t have to be overshadowed by heartache and past experiences.

Maybe you could eventually put your feelings aside and begin to heal from them.

⧪

Two weeks.

It took only two weeks for you to feel like you’d never left. You’d reacquainted yourself with Velaris and its people, visited your old haunts, caught up with old friends — and old lovers.

What had kept you mostly busy was setting yourself up in Madja’s clinic. Her taking some time off meant that you were either constantly seeing people at the clinic or, occasionally, being called out to an emergency somewhere in the city. It was what you lived for — helping people. Healing them. You were content.

A great gust of cold air blew into the clinic just before you were about to close up that evening. You looked up in time to see Mor flouncing in, her cheeks bitten by the cold and a gleam in her eye. She skipped over to the counter, grinning at you.

“Guess what.”

As you tidied various medical supplies away, you raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “You asked out that Illyrian female you were telling me about?”

“No.” She said quickly — it saddened you that she glanced around, worried even now that someone was listening. “No, not that. We’re having a party.”

You suppressed a groan. The last two weeks had exhausted you; you were pretty sure you were still recovering from the Solstice celebrations. And the reunions. The thought of another Inner Circle party so soon made you wince.

“We just had a party.” You pointed out. “The Winter Solstice was two weeks ago.”

“Ah, but this party is for you. Rhys is arranging the whole thing as we speak.”

“There’s really no need for—“

“No, no, there is.” That mischief in her eye glinted like Starlight. “You see, we’re due for a trip to The Hewn City. One we all have to attend so nobody thinks we’ve become complacent and uninterested in the Court of Nightmares. And I know how much you always loved pissing my father off. What better way than to throw an arrogantly lavish party to celebrate your return? Consider it a homecoming gift. You know Keir will hate every second of it.”

You snorted — you had to admit, that did sound good. Seeing your uncle for the first time in years wasn’t something you’d ever rush to do, but to throw an extravagant party in the court that Keir liked to pretend he owned would bring you more satisfaction than you’d admit.

Mor read those very thoughts on your face, letting out an excited squeal. “Excellent. I’m going to get you an amazing dress, do your makeup—“

“Whoa, Mor, wait—“

“It’ll be great. You’re going to look incredible.” Without even considering your protest, she flounced back towards the door, one hell of a spring in her step.

“Az won’t be able to take his eyes off you when I’m done with you!” She called over her shoulder. And just like that, she was dancing out of the clinic as quick as the breeze she’d brought in with her, just the chiming bell above the door left behind.

You stared after her, stunned, her words leaving a swirl of nerves and anticipation — and surprise — in your gut.

Tags: @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611

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anemonelovesfiction · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 4- Choking/ Spanking

Avatar! Jake Sully x Human! Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Smut bro. MDNI or I’ll block you.

So there is a special someone I wanted to dedicate this for getting her blog back! I hope you can read and enjoy on your own time My Love 🌙 ❤️ @pandoraslxna

Sul’Eyanos is not something that is in Na’Vi vocabulary but something I had actually come up with… it means the binding of three souls, aka three soulmates. I did it when I was writing a shifting script for myself to be in a relationship with both Jake and Neytiri because I couldn’t break them up 🫣

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Word count: 6k words (sorry I got carried away but I included both choking AND spankies 🤭)

One of the strangest things about being on Pandora, was the fact that I had been born amongst them as a total surprise, sure my parents knew they were expecting, but I was an accident. We lived in an already confined space, but I’d always been a good listener, making sure I appeased my parents and wasn’t much of a nuisance, taking interest in what they called ‘work’ and going along with it. I found myself sticking beside Max’s side, which is how I knew that there was a new batch of scientists arriving, I was thirteen around the time that Jake and Norm had arrived on the planet.

I’d felt drawn to the ex-marine, for some reason, stunning half the staff when I’d bothered making an effort into saying hello to him, his smile spreading on his lips as I seemed to talk to him normally, not bending down or in his face. I was often shy in nature and never bothered speaking unless spoken to and that had been out of character for me.

I had been very close with my mother, but she had developed cancer in her brain, dying about three weeks prior to the next batch’s arrival, so I’d mostly been with my dad -who already buried himself in his work to forget about mom- and Max, who’d claimed he’d seen me reading a lot of medical books, taking me under his wing and teaching me everything he knew. Although Max was a scientist, he doubled as a Doctor for the humans, and somewhat of a medic for the Avatar’s as well. Since he’d taken me under his wing I’d been joined at the hip, essentially becoming a Doctor alongside him without the official title.

There had been very few things I had done on purpose within those three months since Jake’s arrival. One of them having been conspiring with Max and Trudy on how to sneak the trio out of the jail cell they were being held in, Max telling me he had to go with them and entrusted the care of the other humans and Avatars to me- a thirteen year old with no medical degree, taking care of adults- one of them having just given birth about three days ago.

Another thing I’d done on purpose was making sure that the other scientists hadn’t caught on that I had been without Max and attempted to make it seem like everything had been alright, until Paz had bumped into me and asked where Max was since she claimed she needed to be given a green pass to start working again, it had been about ten minutes since we had broken the others from their cell and my heart was beating erratically at the woman before me. She cut her losses with me and struggled to keep a steady gait while attempting to stomp away, knowing I had to place a couple of stitches on her tears after her son’s delivery.

Max appears not even a second later telling me Jake needed us to stay on the inside and be his lookouts in case any other thing happened. Another thing I had blindly agreed to and purposely done, I was a kid, I’d do anything for the people I’d grown to call my friends, even though I knew thats not how the real world worked.

But one of the things I hadn’t done on purpose was the crush that developed from having found it easy to talk to the ex-marine, I felt like an idiot for feeling as if I had been getting any kind of special treatment from him. Even when he’d always take the time to show me the pretty flowers that grew in the forest whenever he’d managed to sneak me out alongside Grace. Pointing out the many different kinds that grew in clusters while Grace and Norm took samples a couple miles away from hells gate and still very far from the Omatikaya. During the small period between him getting accepted as one of the people and before the war.

I did find him attractive in either form, but I should have known better than to let that shit stay in my head, knowing that there was no way he would feel the same for a thirteen year old. And I was proven right when I’d overheard him talking to Norm and Max at one point and stating that Neytiri was pregnant. I’d obviously had to congratulate him alongside the other men and I did feel happy to know he had finally seemed to have found his purpose, but I had cried so much that night. Taking it upon myself to follow in my fathers footsteps and drowning myself in my work and slowly detaching any kind of relationship I had developed with him, barely speaking to Norm unless it involved work, and not needing Max to hover over my shoulder anymore.

But that was fifteen years ago, I’m twenty-eight now, the same age Jake was when he’d given up his human life and permanently passed through the eye of Eywa, truly becoming a Na’vi and having woke up in his blue body, burying the body he’d once inhabited. I could feel a pull toward him any time I’d see him come in through hells gate but always pulled myself away from any room he had entered or pretended to act busy, I didn’t need to put myself through the same depressed puppy love I had when I was younger.

“Hey there stranger.”

My head snaps up at the sudden familiar baritone voice I’d taken to avoid any time I could, removing the one earbud that had been in my ear as I took my late night leisurely walk to give myself a break before diving my head back into my books, back already stiff as I turn around slowly, praying it was just my imagination. I just stupidly stared up at him.

“After all this time and you’re still quiet, huh?” He lowers his body as he squats on his toes and meets my height, I take a step back to give him his personal space so he doesn’t feel like I was invading it and he eyes me warily.

“Do I smell?” He jokes with a glimmer in his eyes and a half smile, showing his pointed canines, thats right, I have to act like I’m not losing my shit or going to embarrass myself.

“Sorry, just a bit tired. Was there something I could do for you?” I asked and watch him lift a brow and eye me warily.

“C’mon, kid, you treat me like you don’t know me.” Another playful smile but I internally grimace at the nickname, Kid, thats all he’d ever see me as and I thin my lips without meaning to and nod my head a big and turn to place the earbud on the stack of books I’d come back with.

“Life has changed the both of us, I knew you a long time ago and you have changed, you may as well be a stranger to me.” I shrug lightly but force a smile to imply that I had been joking. “What brings you in, shouldn’t you be off doing Olo’eyktan duties?” I attempt to redeem myself by adding the bit of sass I used to have for him, but I could tell by the flash in his eyes he knew I was putting on an act.

“I wanna show you somethin’.” He tilts his head back as if also asking me to go with him somewhere and I knew I had to decline. I was practically in love with a man I met as a child even though I knew he had been married and he had children, I knew nothing would happen if I decided to oblige and head out with him, but I knew I had to stay here for my own sanity.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” I stated firmly and felt some pride blossoming through me.

“You have something more interesting going on in here?” He asks simply, taking a glance around the lab as if trying to understand what I had found worthy of my attention at that moment, eyes coming back to meet mine.

“Well it’s not interesting but-“ This had been my first mistake.

“Then lets go.” He urges but remains on his toes and watching me intently.

“It’s my job-“ Second mistake.

“ The humans that stayed don’t work for the RDA and you aren’t your father.” He stated and my face falls at that comment.

When the RDA had arrived with General Frances Ardmore, they had essentially told all of the staff that they could have been arrested for treason, since my father had gone through everything on Earth, they had a file on him as well as every human Scientist and Doctor that remained on this planet. Had they voluntarily come back and assisted the RDA they would be dropped of said charges and receive the full time pay and compensation for ‘doing the right thing’. I’d grown upset at this statement but was reminded by Max and Norm that I had been born on Pandora and no record had ever been kept on me on Earth, they didn’t know of my existence and I was free to choose whatever it was I wanted, so I chose to stay. Unbeknownst to me, my father decided to leave as if everything he’d ever worked for had meant nothing, like abandoning me was the better option, another one of the reasons I buried myself in my work so I wouldn’t be reminded of how easy it was for him to betray the humans and myself.

“It’s still my job to find remedies to cure anyone who gets sick.” My third mistake was to attempt to keep this conversation going and I watch him roll his eyes.

“Who gets sick on Pandora anymore, if anything you could always learn from Mo’at, lets go.” He’d asked nicely before but this sounded more demanding. I hesitantly look back at the stack of books I had brought to read. To be fair, I’d read these books several times and I wasn’t looking forward to reading them again or adding notes onto my notes. My eyes glide over to his before I sigh.

“Fine, where are we going?” I asked him and see his smile grow before standing tall again, extending his comically large hand over toward me, and I take it as he turns and starts walking.

“You won’t need a mask.” He continues walking just a bit further before reaching a closed door in which you needed badge access to get through, but I was never really bothered walking anywhere I didn’t need to be and was pretty sure my badge wouldn’t slide the doors open, but he turns to take it and scans it in, and I watch the doors part, a circular room in front of us encased in glass.

My eyes widen slightly to take in the room, there are floor-to-ceiling windows where the curvature was, noticing most of the mountain we were encased in covering about five foot off the floor, the rest of it uncovered and showing the night sky above, the stars shining beautifully. I had no idea this place existed beyond the doors and hearing the whirr of the mechanics of the door shutting again.

“What is this place?” I asked and felt myself stepping closer to the glass, placing my hands on the window in awe, staring up at the sky and feeling like a little nerd all over again.

“It connected to the old observatory when this building was still a part of Hell’s Gate. Crazy how it fit perfectly in here.” I could see his body come into view from my peripheral and he’s gazing up at the stars, like he’s trying to find one, before smiling and pointing it out, although its hard to tell which one he’s looking at.

“Do you see that pale yellow star off in the distance, it has three blue ones around it.” He specifies and I let my eyes wander and actually manage to see the star he’d been talking about, all three stars shared a different hue of the color but the pale yellow shone brightly against it.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Thats where I come from.” He stated proudly, almost nostalgically.

“Do you miss it?” I asked while allowing my eyes to stare at the stars in the sky, many of them were white, very few were blue, and only one was that pale yellow color. A small insignificant dot in the sky suddenly bringing on more meaning to my life.

“No, I found my place here.”

“I’m sure you feel accepted here more than you did on Earth.”

“Sure I did, it’s not every day you’re welcomed by the thirteen year old who is said to be shy by every crew member, only to realize she had a crush on the cripple.” He lightly pushes my shoulder, the beautiful expanse of space now being long forgotten as my widened eyes turn to meet his.

“You knew?” I had been too focused on avoiding him after a while and felt that it had been enough distance to make it seem like I’d outgrown him, as if he were a phase in my life I was no longer interested in. Far too invested in his answer to allow myself to blush or feel any shame from it, what he didn’t need to know is that I still felt this way, even now in his blue body.

“It wasn’t hard to decipher.” He shrugs while speaking and I could feel the embarrassment settle as I hunch my shoulders at the ick I could feel crawling up my body.

“I’m sorry.” I stated rather sourly, my eyes finding a deep interest in the floor below me, this was starting to get awkward and I needed to leave, I should have known the night was going to be spoiled by my own feelings.

“I should probably go,” I pointed back over my shoulder and turned pretty quick not bothering to meet his eyes. I was hoping he wasn’t as observant as he had been before and wouldn’t notice that the feeling persisted on my end, the last thing I needed was to be teased about how I’d felt about a mated man, but if he were to see through it, would he see my attempts at staying away from him and the respect I had for Neytiri and his children? Would he see that I willingly avoid him at all costs?

“So she was right.” His voice rings out and snaps me out of my thoughts, his big hand had wrapped around my bicep to stop me from walking further, and my head whipped around to stare at him.

_________

Just when I think I know everything about the Na’Vi and have found my understanding in their culture, there always seems to be something added on to it and more customs I had been unaware of. One of them was the binding of three souls, something Neytiri told me is quite rare, she had been open at explaining that she only taught me the basics while teaching me her ways, but since I had been Olo’eyktan now, I must know of everything in order to properly fulfill my duties.

She explained the binding of the three souls, better known as Sul’Eyanos, is a pull from someone toward an already mated pair, something that is initiated by Eywa when she feels the three are compatible and better off together. She had stated she often found herself checking in on Y/n to see where the younger woman had been and if she didn’t see her anywhere she’d feel sadness. Neytiri could tell that the human was attracted to me from the moment she had met her, mentioned that Y/n had purposely avoided me, but harbored those feelings deep inside.

“Who was right?” Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I could tell she’d been embarrassed by the situation, tears weren’t exactly threatening to escape but her eyes had become glossy, and it felt like the puzzle piece had finally snapped into the right place. Without another word I’m quick to pull at her arm to turn her back to face me, release my hold on her, and place my hand on her lower back as I squat on my toes, bringing her even closer and connecting our lips.

I remember when I first kissed Neytiri, I could feel a warmth rapidly spreading through my body, a primal need to face plant her on the forest floor and fuck her had guided me to doing just that, not that she had minded, that same urge surging through my body at this moment. I could feel her tiny hands push against my chest and I’d backed away from her even though I hadn’t wanted to.

“Wait, you’re mated, what are you doing, what would Neytiri think?” I could see the panic settling on her face, her gaze downcast and I knew she’d attempt to slide out of my grasp at any moment.

“Hey, hey, look at me-“ I use my hand as gently as I can to caress her cheek, making her refocus on me, feeling pride at managing to get her to look back up, smiling gently.

“This was her idea.” I admit and watch her shock resurface. “We were given the opportunity to have a third mate, Eywa has chosen you for us, but we don’t want to force it on you.”

The confusion starts changing into hurt as her eyes fill up with tears, some already falling onto her cheeks, I could only watch as she starts to frantically pull herself away from my hold, her small cries reaching my ears and my own chest starting to feel heavy. I did not intend for her to cry and had no idea how to calm her at the moment, but I knew the second she’d get out of my grasp it would be game-over, she’d work overtime in avoiding us and refuse to be near us.

“Babygirl, stop it.” I huffed but she listens, slumping over and letting her tears fall like a river, I sigh and work on swiping them with my thumb. “I know you think this might be a prank or some stupid shit like that, but it’s not.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life, but this is-“

I didn’t bother waiting for her to finish her words and placed my lips over hers once more, one hand on her cheek and the other on the back of her head to hold her steady, but also to prevent her from pulling away this time. Her smaller hands had pressed against my chest and applied pressure to steady herself, never pushing harder to get me off of her, but the primal urge surges through me again and the need to claim her was making my head feel stuffy.

I swipe my tongue over her bottom lip while sliding the hand that had been on her head down toward the back of her neck to cradle it, the hand on her cheek sliding down toward the small of her back to pull her closer.

“Mmph-“ I’m assuming she tried to say something but wasn’t protesting much when I shoved my tongue in her mouth. I could taste the fruit she’d been eating earlier and remember Max saying she had been obsessed with yovo when she was younger, I could tell from the taste she still had been, swiping my tongue over hers and feeling it go limp, allowing me to do whatever I pleased.

I could feel myself pulling her body closer against mine, glad I’d managed to build up my endurance for this pose while tending to my own children, thankful I had the use of my legs again. My ears flicker at the sound she’d made and feel a craving to want to hear it again, tongue and lips disconnecting from hers and quickly kissing along her neck, ensuring my fangs were dragging alongside her skin and hearing her breath come out in short pants.

“Jake~” She whines, the hands that had been on my chest showing my just how much she was enjoying it as her nails dug into my skin.

“I can smell you babygirl, oh fuck, can’t keep myself off you.” I grunt out as my hands were quick to tug on her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off, catching her open her eyes and nodding frantically, sliding it off and attaching my mouth back on her neck, kissing down her chest.

“Are you sure we should-“

“Yes.” I groan as I felt the weight of her chest in the palms of my hands, looking back up at her angelic face. “We go as far as you want, hmm.” I hummed to catch her attention and she meets my eyes with a nod.

“I want to, but-“

“Then we will.” I stated while simultaneously running my thumbs across her nipples and hearing her gasp lightly, her face turning downward to look at my hands encasing her chest, planting myself on my knee’s and covering her body with mine and placing one of her breast in my mouth, flicking the nipple with my mouth and teasing the other one with my hand. Feeling her tiny hands grab onto my scalp to keep my face cradled in her arms and chest.

“Jake~” She moans lightly as I switch between her breasts, ensuring I plant a kiss between them before placing the other in my mouth, the other one being rolled between my pointer finger and thumb, gently pushing her down on the cold metal floor. A small hiss leaving her lips as her back comes into contact with it.

I’d knelt myself down on the floor, sliding myself between her legs, scooting close enough to have the backs of her thighs meet my shoulders as I got myself settled in, hearing a slight squeak as my hands grab her ass to slightly lift her, resisting my urge to take her at this moment and groaning at her scent.

“You done any of this before?” I asked and see her bite her lip, nervously looking away and nodding her head, feeling relief flood through me, knowing I wouldn’t hurt her and she’d be used to some stretch.

“Good.” I bring my mouth to kiss her exposed thigh, the skirt she’d been wearing wasn’t covering much from this angle, but that was a reward, I had to work my way toward it. My arms had wrapped themselves around them, the tips of my fingers gently squeezing the inner thigh and pulling them apart as I kissed, licked, and nipped at them. Hearing her breath hitch as I got closer, she’d been subtly moving her hips over, hearing a groan of frustration once I switched over to the other thigh and repeating the process.

“For the love of Eywa-“ She huffs and brings her head up and this had been the first time I’d ever seen the fire blazing in her eyes, nipping the skin just right while staring at her, her head falling back down.

“You wanna finish that thought?” I ask as my head feels dizzy from being this close to her clothed cunt and wanting to devour her.

“No-“ She mutters weakly, her head shaking, and eyes closed tightly. I take it upon myself to nuzzle my nose on her clothed cunt, skirt having been thrown on her belly carelessly, eyes closing and a loud groan emitting from my throat as I take the first sniff straight from the source, my cock hardening fully.

“Fuck.” I stated loudly, taking in another sniff, my head feeling dizzy as the logical part of my consciousness was getting muted, my primal urges surfacing as my finger hooks toward the side of her underwear, and swiping it to the side, her scent and leaking cunt making me groan, not bothering to check in with her before my face is shoved into her sweet petals, tongue pulling her lips apart and finally tasting her.

“Fuck-“ Her breathy gasp follows along the slightest thrust of her hips, I squeeze my hold on her thighs slightly tongue starting to work in overdrive for two reasons, to get to taste her deliciousness and to be able to hear her moan.

“Oh fuck!” She gasps while panting, hands finding comfort in my hair and holding on for dear life, the slightest of tugging toward where she wanted me had my logic slipping further, not caring if her thighs were attempting to close around my head and wanting to drown myself in her scent.

“Stop fuckin’ moving, babygirl.” I protested, feeling the cool breeze hitting my face wherever her juices decided to stick, knowing it had ran past my lips, her eyes shooting open and ready to say something. But I slid my finger into her cunt and all that comes out is a choked moan, head falling back to the floor.

“Please, please use another.” She begs silently, eyes slightly open, head lolled to the side just to look at me, my pride swelling since she had refused to lift her head.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” I oblige and place another finger in her warmth hearing her draw in another gasp and broken moan as I did so.

“Talk to me.” I stop all thrusting and keep my fingers buried inside her, my cock straining against my loincloth, but refusing to continue until she tells me if she’d fine or if I’m hurting her.

“Feels like a dick- just your fingers, please move, move now.” She rambles in hushed whispers that I barely catch as the sound of the blood traveling impossibly fast through my body- mostly down South- is roaring loudly in my ears. I slowly work on drawing my fingers back out of her cunt and slide them back in, hearing her first loud moan. Soaking up the sound with my ears turned toward her, wanting to not waste any of this experience.

“You won’t be left unsatisfied again, babygirl, I can promise you that.” I grunt and find myself captivated to pull my wet fingers out of her cunt, her whines rippling through my brain, telling me to get back to work, but I just had to take her clothes off. Tapping her hips with one of my wet fingers and feeling her understand my command right as I settle on my knees, the heels of her feet settling on the floor once more to lift her hips, finally taking off her skirt and underwear in one swoop, her bottom falling back onto the floor beneath her, legs spreading greedily to welcome me back into my spot.

“Hands and knees,” I stated as I untied my loincloth, dick springing upward and she freezes, looking at it as if she’d never seen one before.

“Thats huge.” Her eyes appear widened, mouth slightly open as she stares at it.

“Thought you said you’ve done this before.” I smirk with my teasing tone, some clarity returning back to me.

“With another human- is that going to fit?” I can hear the worry in her voice, and take the time to stroke her cheek again, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, connecting our foreheads.

“I’ll make it fit, babygirl, get in position.”

She nods before placing her knee’s on the floor with her hands bent at an angle, pushing her ass in the air as if presenting herself to me and I groan at the sight, taking the fingers I’d previously shoved in her cunt and do it again, exploring her from the new angle and hearing her moans return louder this time.

“Fuck, you look delicious.” I mutter through my lips as I focus on thrusting my fingers into her sopping cunt and not wanting to fight against my own urges, and finally giving into them.

_________

A stinging sensation spread like wildfire on my bottom, but his fingers continuing their ministrations were driving me wild, a loud moan escaped my lips when another slap is reverberating in the empty room, my cunt instinctively squeezing on his thick fingers. With only two of his fingers in I felt like I was getting fucked, humans must be pretty small in comparison to Na’Vi.

A third slap was done to distract me from the third finger being inserted, the stretch was absolutely welcomed, his thrusts having slowed down a bit to help me accommodate for the extra digit but my hips were starting to meet his thrusts as I pushed myself back onto his hands.

“Your pussy is such a greedy thing, yeah? Rocking back to meet my fingers like the hungry cock-slut you are.” Another slap resonates within the semi-circular room, not bothering to respond verbally as my moans and whimpers were telling him everything he needed to know. He slips his fingers out and I can hear him grunt, turning my head back and biting my lip as I see him rubbing his slick covered hand over his cock, eyes locked with mine.

“You ready?”

“Fuck me.” I mumble under my breath at his cockiness, his lazy smile cut off by a whimper and that catches my attention.

“I will.” Fuck me indeed. He places his left hand on my hip while continuing to stroke himself as he lines up to me.

“I hope I stretched you out enough.” He whispers and I can feel the head of his cock slip in, the sting that I’d only felt when losing my virginity starting up again and I suck in a breath.

“Fuck babygirl, don’t clamp down like that-“ Jake grunts and sneaks the hand covered in my juices snaking around my hip, placing a large finger on my bud, heavily rubbing the nervous tissue and I buck my hips at the feeling, taking more of him in.

“Thats it,” I could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he keeps the same pace, taking the time to slide the head of his cock in and out cautiously, if I could think without my horny brain I’d be bursting at the seams at his realization and quick thinking.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, such a good girl for me, huh?” He asks rhetorically.

“Yes~” I moan out and slide myself further down his shaft, taking in the pleasure of him paying attention to my sensitive clit once more, feeling used to the head and craving more, but he was right about one thing, I don’t think I’d be unsatisfied anymore.

“You should see what I see,” His hand abandons my clit and another slap, this time a wet spot left from his fingers cooling down the stinging cheek right as he draws himself out and shoves himself all the way in, the breath getting knocked out of my lungs at that moment.

“Move, move, move, move, move-“ I chant toward him, needing to feel that friction again, not caring if the slightest sting was there, wanting to feel the way his head and shaft glide in so smoothly that it sets all my nerves on fire, another wet smack on my ass as he obliges, repeating the movement.

“Jake, please, again-“ I pant as I say those words and feel another smack on the opposite cheek, releasing a frustrated moan as he stays still, I can feel his arms leave my hips and I whine at the loss, a thud implying they’d been placed in front of me due to his size.

“Hush ya’ mouth, kid,” He comments in my ear, straining his voice as he attempts to thrust slowly, dropping some of the weight of his chest into my back to prevent me from moving my hips back.

“I don’t wanna hold back, please, just go at your pace, I don’t care, please.” I moan between words, I didn’t care if I couldn’t walk from the mind blowing dick he was giving me, I just needed to come.

“Shut up, babygirl.”

I feel a hand circle around my neck from his position, his thumb and fingers squeezing gently at my neck as he says that and I could feel a flutter in my pussy, heat pooling down my lower belly, and I felt a deep desire to be filled with his come.

“You like being choked hmm I can feel your sweet cunt squeezing my cock.” His voice is driven my lust that I didn’t think this was the same man talking to me earlier. “I’ve wanted to take care of this sweet pussy for a while now, watch it swallow my cock, hear you beg for it.” Jake pauses and I felt the orgasm that had been approaching stop with his movement.

“Beg.”

“Please let me come, I was so close, please-“

“Mm, you could do better than that, you did so good for your colleague last week, do I need to repeat the words you told him?”

I could feel my pussy drench in juices as he stated that. I’d heard the sound of someone closing the door right after I’d almost reached an orgasm with Jensen but he told me I was just imagining everything- of course right after he’d gotten to come and left me high and dry- I had to finish myself off in my room, I wonder if he-

“Shame you had to finish yourself off, but that won’t happen again, just beg.”

“In the-“ I pant as I feel the heat on my face “-nicest way possible, I don’t wanna walk after.” I stated with a gasp as he picks up his speed.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” He mutters in my ear and squeezes the sides of my neck once more, I believed he’d already been going as fast as possible, only to feel him lift me from my neck as he settled myself on his knees, making sure my thighs were spread over his knee’s, still squeezing my neck.

The shock of him lifting me, settling me on his lap, and thrusting his hips at lightning speed had my orgasm approaching faster than it had been when he was moving at a turtles pace. I could feel my thighs shaking at the feel of the head of his dick rubbing every spot inside I had no idea existed. My feet hadn’t exactly been touching the ground, but I could feel them ghosting over the floor with every thrust, the idea of being manhandled like this turned me on so much.

“Jake, I’m coming, I’m-“ I didn’t have time to finish the sentence as he squeezes the side of my neck and reaches over his other hand to rub my clit, speeding the process along nicely and making my orgasm crash over me.

The words he’d been saying were incoherent at the time, but I did feel warmth, everywhere. He’d wrapped his hands around my chest, the other on my hip to keep me steady, and another type of stretch was filling my pussy, his cock buried deep in me as he comes inside, most of it being dumped out due to it’s limited space.

“Holy fucking shit.” I stated tiredly, thighs still shaking as I manage to slowly bring myself out of my orgasmic mind-fuck. Mind suddenly reeling back and realizing what we’d done. “Holy fucking shit-“ I repeated in a different tone.

“You are ours, babygirl, you don’t need to freak out. It was her idea, remember?” He stated while kissing my temple and I could feel my heart rate picking up.

“I’m still scared to face her now. I fucked her husband.”

“She is also your wife.”

“But does she want to be-“

“Would I be here getting you off if she didn’t want to?”

#avatar #avatar smut #afab reader #human reader #lunaskinktober2023 #JakeSully #jake sully x reader

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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My shift to attack on titan

To start, I shifted to where I was 8. I was born and raised in wall maria (shigashina) with armin eren and mikasa and I spent most of my days with them. I could not imagine the bond you could have with people other than your family until I went here.

First I want to reminisce abt my besties 🥰

Armin is the sweetest smartest friend anyone could ask for. He also hums and sings which makes sense because he is the narrator of aot in this reality. He also writes journals about things he learns and things he wants to see and tells us we are going to go together. I am so lucky to be friends with someone so Sweet smart charming and caring. no words can describe my friendship with him. It was so interesting hearing his stories about his beliefs and ambitions . He was certainly humble when discussing his theories and made sure to include all of us in them.

His heart is so big I still don’t know how it fits in his dainty body. His family is poor and he helps his grandpa cultivates potatoes. Even so when he met my mother for the first time he gave us a weekends worth as a thank you gift for all the snacks I bring to our daily hangouts. Of course my mother did not want to take them as we are definitely more well off than his family but he insisted. This was met with my mother giving them two weeks of fruits, vegetables and meat, which we had to beg for him to take.

His lack of athleticism is also pretty funny. It’s not like we do anything too heart wrenching but he has horrible stamina for our age. The race to the tree goes as follows: eren winning because mikasa is letting him by enough to help his ego, then mikasa, then typically me carrying armin because he gets too tired after a while. I still make sure he wins though.

Mikasa is my first friend that’s a girl. There isn’t any school or activities to meet new people around my age, so the only people I knew were my family until I met eren and armin. Then I met mikasa. She’s kind of shy yet brave when she needs to be. She made me a doll when eren introduced us to her and I didn’t know she could be so crafty. Yes she’s clingy with eren buts she’s super protective with everyone she cares about including me. Our mothers are also both from persecuted clans and we share the same hymn that our mothers taught us, the same sigil tattoo of sorts our parents gave us, so with that alone our bond is unbreakable. We have become armin and erens first line of defense, we both have protective nature and are always stronger when fighting for our loved one. I can’t wait to have someone like her for my entire life by my side

She is a stoic and composed girl who tends to keep her emotions in check. Those close to her recognize her incredible strength and courage in even the most dire of circumstances. She is loyal and brave, ever willing to put her own safety on the line for those she holds dear.

At the same time, Mikasa does have moments of vulnerability. She is immensely sensitive to criticism and has difficulty accepting praise. Despite her impressive fighting ability and hard work which we all have seen..there are times when she feels she isn’t living up to expectations. So yea she’s is a complex person, but one thing that never changed about her, is her sense of justice and unwavering commitment to her loved ones. She is both a formidable friend and a leader. She is able to make tough decisions in even the most difficult of situations.

Then theres my boy Eren 💀💀he is an amazing daring friend. He’s the one I’ve known the longest. My mother was a nursing aid in the hospital, erens dad worked at before she got married and he is now our doctor as well! I didn’t meet him until I was about 6ish or 7 and we he started coming to his visits with his dad and we instantly clicked and we were each other’s first friend! Then we met armin together and he met mikasi and the rest is history. He would do anything for the people he cares about and though sometimes I want him to slow down and think for a second but that’s not something he does. He acts on what he thinks and I almost respect how impulsive he is. It doesn’t matter because mikasi and I will always be there to make sure he doesn’t die.

I also want to talk about my family.my relationship with my family in this reality still rings bells in my heart. My mother and uncle whom I live with are a reflection of grace and kindness embodied into people. My mother is absolutely beautiful and everyone tells me I have her eyes, which is the nicest thing I hear all the time. She is kind, beautiful, strong and everyt good thing I do I was taught by my mother. She amazes me every day with her grace and beauty. She has been the bravest and kindest role model to me, and for that I am grateful to be her daughter. Her strength and courage has inspired me in many ways, and I will always be thankful for everything she does. She sings to me everyday and braids my hair while telling me good affirmations to build my strength. She always encourages me to say thank you when I am full because not everyone has the same blessing. She would tell me stories and fables every night and make me the main character incorporating moral lessons in each one to encourage me to be the best version of myself. She was very loving and kind with her words and actions, and soft technique in everything she does and for that I’m grateful. My uncle is of the same nature. Anytime I had a curiosity he would tell me stories and teach me everything he knows about the topic. If I had an interest the next day I would find a book of it on my desk. Books on specific topics are not a right but a privilege and how he got access to them I still do not know but restrictions never stopped him from getting me my desires. He would tell me I’m the smartest most beautiful girl in the world and I hope one day I’ll believe it. He is the kindest smartest man in my life and honestly armin reminds me of him, maybe why I love him so much. I also have a father who is a merchant and often travels, and though I do not agree with everything he does as he is more conservative, and closed minded he is still a great father, and for that I’m grateful. He does business with the royals and every trip back he would bring me sweets and treats that I would share with my friends. Chocolate with candy pieces and pecans/walnuts were my favorite. He would bring them in special arrangement and tell me to make this last until his next trip. It never happened and armin mikasi eren and I would eat them all in one setting until we couldn’t walk. Regardless I shifted here at a time I had a horrible relationship with my family and for a time anytime i would speak about my mother I was referring to her. I have now obviously manifested a better relationship with my family, but at a point, and I love and appreciate them but during my darkest hour, she was my real and only mother.

Also, As I expected was the food here was heavy on meat, beans, and grains, with little variety in terms of fruits and vegetables. This meant that the meals tended to be fairly bland – not exactly what I was used to. A common dish that I enjoyed was a stew made with chunks of beef and vegetables. It was slow-cooked for hours, which made it rich, flavorful, and comforting. The vegetables were often slightly sweet, which balanced out the salty flavor of the beef. But I mean we’re a locked up village trying to not get eaten alive by titans, so good diversity is the least of my problems.

But Y’all I honestly consider Shigashina as my realhome. My village is the epitome peaceful and idyllic. The scenery here is breathtaking. Rolling hills climb to reveal breathtaking views of the valley below, while nearby forests are a pleasing mix of vibrant green and warm autumn hues. The sun creeps through the clouds just enough to cast a golden hue on the village below, and the gentle breeze plays with tree branches and grassy fields.

It’s easy to feel like you’ve stepped back in time when you wander the streets of Shigashina. Streets of cobblestone pass between quaint houses while quaint shops and restaurants line the main thoroughfare. The village’s many windmills add to the charming atmosphere, their slow rotation creating a calm serenity.The nearby rivers and lakes bring life, with their gentle rippling and abundant fish. Beyond the village, pilgrims and adventurers journey the mountains to explore the region’s unique landscapes and mysterious secrets.

Of course, no discussion of Shigashina would be complete without mentioning its many festivals. Colorful parades, traditional dances, lively music – each celebration introduces a unique flavor to the village’s rich culture. For those that want to experience something truly unique, a visit during one of these festivals is a must. From its stunning landscape to its vibrant culture, Shigashina is truly a hidden gem in my experience.

In this void (cr)I could care less about nature but there, I am outside everyday the scenery, and it’s is breath taking. I miss being a kid. Getting to go everyday to our oak tree, and run around, race and play tag, while also reading and making flower crowns for each other . We yelled and screamed and played as children with no worries in the world, the euphoria and tranquillity I felt everyday, I did not even feel in this reality’s childhood and I cannot wait to go back and be free of stress. The market place is filled with people chatting, commerce and children running about. fruit and vegetables scent was in the the air and money rattling feels nostalgic to my eyes. It’s chaotic but in the most calming nostalgic way. I appreciate every aspect of my life, after coming back here and I cannot wait to leave here permanently and continue to experience my life the way it should be with people I love and love me, and to meet more people to fulfill my life.

My experience was amazing. Yes I haven’t endured any of the hardships yet since the fall of our town hasn’t happened and I haven’t joined the scout yet. I came here to spend my days with my friends and rest. I had no responsibilities and the bond I had with my family was untouchable. I know I will have a lot of trauma to prepare for, but everyone In my life is setting me up for success, and perseverance. all that matters is that I am loved and have people to fight for. With this said I can’t wait to meet my future friends and basically family members as I grow into the this home 🥰🥰

I know this isn’t aesthetic and it’s kind of boring but I didn’t go there for the action just yet, I just wanted to spend time with my friends, and family and have no responsibilities as I came here when I was super depressed. My other shifting stories are more fun 😻😻😻

#shiftblr #reality shifting #law of assumption #manifesting #law of attraction #void state #manifesation

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klbwriting · 2 months

Text

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 10: Never Did Run Smooth

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: YN comes to see Jason, he tells her the truth

The course of true love never did run smooth

— A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM, ACT 1 SCENE 1

“What are you doing here?” Jackson demanded as he approached YN. She stood up from the bench, fists clenching as the three seniors surrounded her. Jason walked up quietly, listening to the conversation.

“I’m here to see someone,” she said. She noticed Jason but kept her attention on the others, her fists relaxing. She had no reason to fear Jason and she knew that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

“Who are you seeing?” Matt asked. Chelsea took a step closer to her, making YN roll her eyes.

“None of your business,” she said. “Now please, can I just wait in peace?” Chelsea glared.

“Watch your tone here bitch, you’re not in Gotham anymore,” she said.

“Clearly, I’m in Bludhaven home of mediocre John Hughes movie,” YN said. Chelsea looked confused. “Lord, just leave me alone…” Chelsea shoved her hard enough to have her sit back on the bench. Her hand moved to slap YN, but Jason caught her arm, sliding himself between the seniors and YN, who stood up behind him.

“Hands off,” Jason said. He reached back, taking YN’s hand. Once he saw no one moving back towards her he looked over. “You want to go somewhere else?” She nodded. Chelsea glared.

“Is this the girlfriend Jason?” she asked, saying girlfriend like it had a nasty taste. He held up YN’s hand. “Gross, traitor.” Jason sighed.

“It's high school theater Chelsea, not tsarist Russia,” YN said. “In another year no one here will care that you ever went to this school or did a shitty job playing Ophelia.” The seniors looked scandalized as Jason gently YN and they started walking towards the outdoor lunch area.

“She looked like her head might explode,” Jason said with a laugh. He looked down at YN, seeing a tight smile on her face. “My brother blocked your number.”

“I figured something like that, didn’t think you were the type to just disappear,” she said. He set down his bag on a bench by small rose garden that surrounded the lunch tables. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why he hates me, but I’m sorry about it. I mean I didn’t ask to be born poor…”

“Its not because you’re poor,” Jason said softly. He didn’t know how to tell her about her father. How do you break that kind of news to someone? ‘O ya, your dad is a crime lord and my brother things you’ll become one to, so I’m not allowed to date you because my dad once had a hard on for Catwoman…o did I mention he was Batman?’ Ya, that would go over well.

“Then why doesn’t he want us to see each other?” she asked. He looked down, not sure what to say. “Please tell me, I miss you, you honestly are my best friend Jason and I thought, well, even if that’s all we are I just want my friend back.” The look in her eyes and the break in her voice pushed him over the edge.

“He found out who your father is,” Jason said. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, that was clearly not the answer she was expecting. Jason slid an arm around the back of the bench, and she automatically leaned towards him, staring at him. He wished he could look into her eyes forever. “Your father is Sal Maroni, the crime lord, Dick used his connections to find out about that and…” he really didn’t know how to continue.

“Tell me,” she said, voice barely audible. She had tears threatening to spill over now and she had started gripping his hand hard, needing to ground herself into the moment.

“According to Dick’s sources Sal thinks you might be his best bet on a successor to his business. I guess he’s the one paying for your school and your apartment, and when you graduate, he’s going to offer to pay for your mother’s treatment in exchange for you joining his ‘family’” he said. He winced a little at how hard she was squeezing his hand. The tears that had been forming were now spilling from her eyes. “Dick seems to think…”

“That I’ll go become some underworld crime boss to try and save my mom’s life?’ she asked, voice now full of barely contained rage. Jason nodded. “What do you think?”

“I think you would never do anything like that, I think that you’re a good person and you love your mom, but you would never run off to become some kind of gang leader,” he said. YN nodded.

“You would be right; I love my mom. Which is why I would rather stab Maroni in the testicles than join him. How dare that fucking asshole decide that my mom’s life is only worth something if he can use it to get something out of me. How fucking dare he think that I would ever…” she was fuming, standing now and pacing the grass. Jason stood also, watching. “And your brother…how did he find out about this?”

“He’s Dick I honestly don’t know how he finds out anything…”

“He’s a dick alright, judging me by my parent’s. If I did that with you, I’d think you were just some drunk drug addict, or some playboy depending on which parents I wanted to go with, but no, I don’t look at you and think like that, I just think I love you…” she rambled before biting her lip and looking down. Jason felt his heart stop.

“You love…me?” he asked, words almost failing him. How could she possibly love him? How did anyone love him? Jason had never been good with self-esteem, not when he was a little kid who wasn’t worth enough to his mother to get clean, when he lived with Bruce and never seemed to live up to the standard that Dick set, and not with Dick where he couldn’t seem to do anything right, how could he ever be worthy of love? YN looked at him like he was insane.

“Of course, I love you,” she said as if it were fact, a small smile on her face. When he was quiet a moment too long her face began to change, her smile fell, and she looked worried. Jason wanted her to smile again but his mouth was dry, and he couldn’t seem to find words, so he stepped towards her, gently taking her face in his hands and he kissed her. She answered eagerly, hands finding purchase on his chest and Jason suddenly felt at peace. He’d never felt this way before, even when he died he could only remember chaos, but this, her lips on his, hands gripping his uniform shirt, his hands feeling the warmth of her skin, this was peace, this was heaven, this was what being alive was about. When they parted he wanted to immediately kiss her again, feel that peace and that happiness. He took a deep breath, leaning his forehead to hers.

“I love you YN,” he whispered. He hugged her close, just holding her for a while. “I’m going to get a phone on the way home, one my brother won’t know about, I’m sorry that I didn’t get one sooner.” She just nodded into his chest, head sitting right over his heart. “Let me take you home.” She nodded, taking his hand as they walked towards where he parked his bike.

Jason woke up, groaning as he looked at the phone Dick had bought him. It was only 4AM, why did he have so many messages? He opened them, frowning several of the other theater kids were asking about him and YN and what was up with her dad. His heart dropped as he clicked the link one of them sent. It opened to a Gotham news article, a video playing that clearly showed him and YN talking on the bench. It was their whole conversation and the kiss, the article talking at length about him being the missing son of Bruce Wayne and YN being the illegimate daughter of Sal Maroni. Jason felt his world spinning. Not only was Bruce going to definitely know he was alive now but everyone would know about YN, including several people who would very much so like a conversation with her. He reached under his mattress for the burner phone he had bought, finding several missed calls from YN. He called back.

“Jason?” he heard, her words slurred.

“YN? I’m coming right now,” he said, already up and getting dressed.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt my mom…” she said, clearly still sobbing.

“No one is going to hurt her or you, I’m coming to get you, I don’t care what Dick says I will bring you both here and we will figure something out,” he said, getting on his bike. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be there.” He hung up and took off. The streets of Gotham were nearly empty this early in the morning and it did only take him five minutes to pull up to her apartment. He ran up the stairs two at a time, but froze when he saw the door standing open, hanging by one hinge. He stepped inside the apartment where her mother was lying on the floor, panting.

“Are you hurt?” Jason asked, kneeling by her, helping her to stand slowly. She shook her head.

“Someone took her,” she said. Jason nodded, swallowing hard. He needed to stay calm. He got her mother back to bed, calling the emergency nurse they had to come see to her. Then he started searching. The living room looked like there had been a struggle, furniture out of place, the coffee table in pieces, her phone smashed on the floor. Then he saw the note lying nicely on the kitchen table. He walked over, careful not to touch it. He felt a surge of rage go through him.

Maroni, she’s at dock 15, bring the evidence and 50k, Falcone

#jasontodd #jason todd #redhood #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #notromeo

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