#why is winter king so tall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vbecker10 · 18 days

Text

Loki's Silent Sentry (Part 4)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Loki x female reader (ofc)

Summary: You are not just a soldier in Asgard's Royal Army, you are Lieutenant Y/L/N, Prince Loki's personal guard, his sentry and you are not supposed to fall in love with him. If you followed your training properly, you should never have even spoken to him. As a sentry, you are expected to remain silent and invisible as you shadow your appointed member of the royal family or member of the court protectively throughout their daily tasks.

Rumors (that happen to be true) begin to circulate through the palace that you serve the younger prince of Asgard both outside and inside his chambers. There is little you can do once word of your off duty activities spread through every maid, cook, gardener and seamstress in the palace. You soon find even the soldiers in your own company are now questioning how exactly you had come to earn your seemingly quick rise to lieutenant.

As the annual Winter Solstice Ball approaches, you come to the heartbreaking realization that your relationship with Loki must come to an end if you are both to fulfill your duties.

Warnings: Angst, arguing, Thor trying to be a better brother, Odin being a terrible father... I lied about the fluff... it's not in this part lol but it's coming I swear 💚 I know this part is short but it was getting way too long so I keep breaking it up

"No! He can't do this," you think angrily. Your mind is spinning and your heart races. How could he take this away from his own son.

"You dare to tell me what I can and can not do!?" the king asks in a booming voice and you suddenly freeze.

You look at Loki, his eyes filled with fear and realize you didn't think that, you said it out loud. Odin slowly takes a step forward and you fight the urge to turn and run.

The only sounds you can hear in the crowded room are Odin's heavy footsteps as he decends the stairs and the pounding of your heart. Loki slips his hand free from yours as his father comes closer, he moves to stand in front of you protectively. It does nothing to stop the king, however, his eyes are fixed on you.

The king glares at you and says, "This does not concern you."

You don't know what gives you the strength or courage but you find yourself taking a step forward so you are next to Loki. He glances at you and you can tell he is obviously worried but you stand tall in front of the king and the whole council. You take Loki's hand again and answer Odin, "This concerns me because your ruling effects Loki's future and I care about him, unlike you or would seem."

Loki pulls you closer to him and further from his father but neither of you back away from the king.

"It is now becoming even clearer why we need to update the marriage law," Odin states, looking at the members of the council. He looks directly at Loki, "The prince does not understand his duty to this kingdom and that marriage is not to be taken lightly." Then he looks at you, "And you do not know your place."

"My place is with your son," you tell him.

"And my place is with Y/N," Loki adds in agreement.

A council member to your right says, "Prince Loki, you may think your place is with this soldier but you have a responsibility to follow the king's orders, as do we all."

You feel your chest tighten, you already know the answer to that question. You had spent many nights wondering if you were good enough for Loki.

"Is this really about my obligations as a prince?" he asks the council, "Or do you simply not think Y/N is worthy of my hand in marriage?"

"Lieutenant is barely an officer," an older woman says.

"If we take into account her family's years of service and the ranks they reached, we can easily assume she will at least rise to major like her parents before her," a younger man counters.

"Not for many, many years," another man responds.

"The law only states that a soldier must be a captain, that's clearly an obtainable rank," a woman you barely recognize defends you.

"But she is not yet a captain," someone argues. The chatter and disagreements begin to mix together and become louder as each person fights to have their opinion heard.

You keep your hand in Loki's, holding onto him to keep your bearings as you try to follow the numerous conversations. He squeezes your hand gently and you look up at him. He tries to give you a reassuring smile but you can clearly see he is as nervous as you are. None of this has gone the way he had planned and you are both terrified of what could happen.

"Enough of this!" Odin raises his voice, causing the room to go quiet in an instant. "I have made my decision."

"Father, please. Don't do this to us," Loki begs his father but the king seems unphased by how much he is hurting his son.

"Your highness-" you start but can't finish your thought.

"One more word from you..." he threatens and you become quiet, moving closer to Loki.

The queen moves forward, you had almost forgotten she was in the throne room as she sat quietly and observed the arguments. You and Loki both look at her with a mixture of hope and desperation. Is she going to overrule the king as she had when he wanted to send you away? Does she have a clever suggestion to keep you together? Is she going to agree with her husband? Your mind races as you wait for her to speak.

"I wish to hear what Lieutenant Y/L/N has to say," she says calmly.

Odin turns to look at his wife and something in his demeanor changes. You can't tell if he loves his wife but you can see he respects her enough to not challenge her in front of the council. He looks back at you and waves his hand slightly, "Very well, but these will be your final words in my presence."

You swallow hard and Loki squeezes your hand again to make sure you know you have his support.

"I love Asgard and I have dedicated my life to serving the crown and this kingdom," you begin, unsure of where you are going. "I admit, I am at a loss to discover that this means little to you. I have fought to protect the Bifrost, I have shed blood defending our outposts, I am willing to die in place of the royal family as a sworn sentry. Does this truly make me less worthy of marrying Loki than a woman who was born into one of the council families purly by chance?"

The members of the council begin to whisper again, discussing the question you posed but your attention turns to Loki. You keep your eyes locked on his and tell him, "I don't know what will happen but I need you to know that I will never stop loving you, even if they pull us apart."

"I will never let them take you from me, I promise," he says and you believe him with your whole heart.

The queen nods when you look back towards her but she looks heartbroken for her son and you fear she won't interfere again.

"Now, let us put this nonsense behind us and-" the king begins.

"Wait," Thor interrupts him as gasps spread through the crowd. Now it is Thor who approaches the edge of the throne. Odin glares at his oldest son but says nothing, allowing him to continue.

"I think it would be wise to explain why you truly want to disregard the existing law," he says.

"I have made my opinion on the matter perfectly clear and above all else, it is simply outdated," Odin answers but you can tell the council members are not sure that is the whole truth.

"If you do not tell them," Thor threatens calmly, "I will."

"What are you talking about brother?" Loki asks, his voice full of confusion.

Before Thor can respond, Odin says, "You will do no such thing."

Thor pauses for a moment as if weighting the pros and cons of disobeying his father and you hold your breath while he decides. He avoids Odin's stare and looks at you and Loki. "Loki," he starts.

"Stop this now," Odin commands.

Thor doesn't stop, "We knew about this law, we have for years."

"What?" Loki takes a small step back in shock. "You knew and you said nothing? Even after you knew how I felt about Y/N?"

"Yes but there was nothing to be done," his brother explains. "Even if I had told you, you would still never be allowed to marry her."

"Why not? Why are we being punished?" Loki asks desperately looking from his brother to his father and back at Thor.

"You are not being punished, you are being used as a pawn," Thor says, looking down as if he is ashamed to admit the truth. The queen looks to Odin, her eyes full of questions. The council begins to whisper again as they attempt to figure out if anyone knows what Thor is referring to.

"A pawn," Loki repeats, his eyes unfocused as he stares at the floor. You hold him tightly, hoping to bring his attention back to you.

"Everyone out!" Odin orders the council to clear the throne room but no one moves.

"What is Prince Thor saying?" one person asks. "A pawn in what game?" asks another. Dozens of questions fly through the air until Loki finally looks up again.

"Brother," he says and the room goes silent. "Please, tell me what you mean? That I am to be used?"

"I'm sorry Loki," he says and your heart pounds faster. "You can't marry Y/N, because you have been promised to another."

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki

128 notes · View notes

bookshelf-in-progress · 1 year

Text

The Turning of the Year: A Cinderella Retelling

In a long-ago year, in a faraway land, there lived a girl named Alena. She lived in the house of a cruel stepmother, who hated her because she was so much prettier than her own daughter, and who made Alena do all the work of the house. Though the stepmother let her eat only scraps and wear only rags, Alena grew only more kind and beautiful as the year's went by, while her own daughter, Vanda, grew ever more coarse and cruel.

Now one December, it became known that the king of the land would host a grand ball in the city upon the eve of the New Year. Alena, like all other girls, wished to attend, and asked her stepmother if she could go. Her stepmother promised that she could, in order to convince Alena to work even harder in the weeks before.

But when New Year's Eve arrived, and Alena asked if she could dress for the ball, her stepmother cried, "A ball? When there is so much work to do? We must cast out the old year! You shall attend no ball before the house is cleaned. If there is even a speck of dust left in this house at midnight, you shall bring bad luck upon us all--and it shall be very bad luck for you.”

With that, her stepmother left the house, along with her own daughter, Vanda, to purchase trimmings for their dresses at the ball.

Scarcely had Alena begun to clean the kitchen when she heard footsteps near the back garden gate. When Alena peered outside, she found an old woman walking alone, her back so bent she could not stand without her staff, and her hair so white the snowflakes seemed dark upon it.

“Good mother!” Alena cried, rushing to the woman’s aid. “Come inside to warm yourself! It is no weather for traveling.”

The old woman took a seat by the fire with thanks, and gladly shared the crust of bread that was the only meal Alena’s stepmother had given her.

“You are good to an old woman,” the stranger said. “Yet that is no surprise, for you have been good the whole year through.”

“You do not know me,” Alena said in surprise.

“But I do,” the woman replied, “for I am the Old Year. You have shown me kindness near the end of my journey, so I will be glad to do what I can to help you in yours. What troubles you, child?”

Alena said with sorrow, “My stepmother will not let me attend the prince’s ball until I have cleaned every speck of dust from the house.”

“That is easily done,” the Old Year said, “for April shall reign in this house for the hour.”

With that, though the woman remained old and bent upon her stool, she also seemed somehow to be tall and straight, young and beautiful, with apple blossoms in her golden hair. In the garden outside, the snow clouds cleared away for springtime sun, and warm breezes blew through the house, gathering all the dirt and dust and soot and spreading it neatly in the gardens outside. While spring reigned, Alena gathered blossoming branches from the garden and placed them in jars around the house. Before the hour was over, the house shone. The old woman then lost her youthful aura, and winter returned to the gardens outside.

Alena thanked the Old Year from the bottom of her heart, but at that moment, her stepmother and stepsister returned. Alena, knowing that her stepmother would beat her for letting a ragged stranger into the house, hid the Old Year in the pantry just before her mother entered the kitchen.

“You lazy girl!” Stepmother shouted, when she saw Alena sitting on the stool near the fireplace. “Why are you sitting when the house must be cleaned?”

“It is clean, Stepmother,” Alena replied.

Her stepmother protested, but when she inspected the house, she found not a speck of dust.

She returned to the kitchen filled with rage, for she did not wish Alena to attend the ball and outshine her own daughter in the presence of the prince. When there, she saw the sacks of grain that Alena had moved out of the pantry to make room for the old woman.

“Aha!” her stepmother said. “You have forgotten the grain! We cannot enter the old year with bad grain. You must sift through every kernel so you can throw out the bad and keep the good. If this is not done before midnight, it will be a bad year for you.”

With that, her stepmother and Vanda returned to their rooms to prepare their dresses for the ball. Alena wept by the fireplace, and when she let the old year back into the kitchen, she told her the new task her stepmother had given her.

“That is no trouble,” the Old Year said. “Dry your eyes, child, for July shall reign in this house for the hour.”

Though the woman remained as old as ever, Alena thought she could also see her as a woman of middle age, with roses in hair just beginning to go gray. Through the windows flew every one of summer’s songbirds--warblers, robins, thrushes, vireos, orioles, flycatchers, tanagers, grosbeaks. At the Old Year’s commands, they opened the sacks, and threw the good grain into the barrels and the bad out the back door.

The gardens outside were lush and green, and Alena spent the hour in the sunshine, gathering strawberries, raspberries, and roses by the armful. The birds finished their work before the hour was over, and then flew out the doorway. The sunshine faded, the snow returned, and Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart.

Just then, her stepmother emerged from her rooms, and Alena hid the Old Year in the pantry once more. Her stepmother and Vanda were fully dressed for the ball, but they had been so absorbed in their own looks that they had not seen even a moment of the summer that had filled the house.

"The grain is sorted, Stepmother," Alena said. "That means I can go to the ball."

With anger in her heart, her stepmother sorted through the grain, but she could not find one bad kernel to blame Alena for.

"You stupid girl!" she said at last. "Just because the grain is sorted, it doesn't mean your work is done. You have forgotten the mattresses! We cannot meet the new year in beds filled with last year's down! You must empty all the mattresses and stuff them all with fresh feathers before you can even think of attending the ball!"

She forced Alena to drag the mattresses to the kitchen, and then she and Vanda returned to their rooms to finish dressing their hair.

With that, Alena fell to weeping once again. The Old Year emerged and asked what troubled her.

"My stepmother demands I restuff the mattresses before I can attend the ball."

"That is no trouble," the Old Year said. "September shall reign in this house for the hour."

The next moment, though the woman remained old and bent, Alena also saw her as a woman not quite so old, with an elegant bearing and iron-gray hair that was woven with autumn leaves. The light outside became golden, while the plants in the garden grew brown and dry, and the trees bore apples among flaming leaves.

The sky grew dark as the air filled with the sound of beating wings, and in a moment, geese and ducks of every kind filled the gardens. The birds filed through the door, and at the Old Year's command, they pulled the old feathers from the mattresses and replaced them with a few feathers pulled from their own wings and tails and breasts. While the birds worked, Alena went to the gardens and gathered sweet apples from the groaning trees.

When the hour was over, the birds flew away, leaving behind mattresses plump with fresh new feathers. Alena thanked the Old Year with all her heart, then flew up the stairs to prepare for the ball.

Her stepmother met her in the hall outside her bedchamber, her hair dressed and ready for the ball.

"I have finished the work, Stepmother," Alena said, "so I will be able to go with you to the ball."

Her stepmother did not believe her, but when Alena brought the mattresses upstairs, she found them so plump and clean and fresh that she could find no fault to blame Alena for.

"You foolish child," her stepmother said at last, so angry she could barely speak. "You cannot possibly attend the ball, for you have nothing suitable to wear."

"I have one dress," Alena said. She flew into her dark, drafty little room and emerged with a gown that had once belonged to her mother. "This dress will fit me, and it is fit to be seen even by a king."

Her stepmother could see that in such a dress, even old as it was, Alena would still far outshine her own daughter in the prince's eyes. She tore the dress from Alena's hands, and with hands made strong by fury, she tore at the seams until the dress tore in two.

"This rag?" Her stepmother cried. "You cannot attend the ball in something so old. I would not have you come and give shame to us all. You must stay here and greet the new year alone."

With that, she and Vanda put on their cloaks, stepped in their carriage, and departed for the ball, leaving Alena weeping in the hallway.

While she wept, the Old Year came to her side and asked what troubled her.

"I am without hope," Alena said. "Though all the work is done, I cannot attend the ball, for I have nothing but rags to wear."

"Nonsense, child," the Old Year said. "You shall be the finest woman there, for you will be clothed in all the bounty of the year."

The Old Year helped Alena to her feet, and through tear-filled eyes, Alena saw the woman change, so she seemed old and young and middle-aged all at once. In the gardens outside, spring blossoms sprouted beside summer's roses, and autumn's leaves blazed over winter's snow. Sun and snow and wind and rain all seemed to fill the little hall where Alena stood. Her limp hair piled high atop her head and was crowned with the blossoms of spring. Her rags became a gown as soft as the petals of summer's roses, and bright with autumn's crimson and gold. A cloak of winter-white feathers stretched from her shoulders to the ground, and her feet were shod in shoes of winter's ice, which through some miracle neither froze her feet nor melted upon the floor.

"Old Mother!" Alena cried in gratitude, throwing her arms around the old woman. "I cannot thank you enough."

"You have earned it," the Old Year said, "but I warn you that I will fade away at midnight's chime, and when I go, my gifts will disappear. You must leave quickly, child, while time lasts."

With that, another wind, warm and icy all at once, wrapped itself around Alena and lifted her through the window. In moments, she found herself before the king's palace, which was all lit up for the festival.

At the ball, her beauty far outshone every woman there, and the dancers stopped dancing to whisper about this strange foreign princess who had arrived with no escort. The king, seeing her, was enchanted at once, and asked for her hand in the dance. For the rest of the night, Alena danced with no other, and found the king as kind and handsome as all the tales had claimed.

The hours flew by in what seemed like moments, until just as the king led her out toward a balcony, the palace clock began to chime the midnight hour.

"The new year has come!" the king declared, but Alena fled from him, out of the palace, down the stairs, and to the dark and snow-covered city streets. The Old Year's wind--what was left of it--found her and carried her through the midnight sky, but at the stroke of twelve, it faded away, dropping Alena into her house's back garden, clad once more in her rags. A single shoe of winter's ice clung to her left foot--though the Old Year's gifts had faded, winter still reigned, so only that season's gift remained.

The king, when she fled, ran after her, but he could find no trace of where his partner had gone, save one token, dropped in the place where the wind had picked her up--a single shoe made of winter's unmelting ice. The king declared that he would marry no woman save for the one who fit the miraculous shoe, and at the first light of dawn, he left the palace in search of her.

He had not gone far when he came across a girl child, barely old enough to walk, with hair as soft and golden as the sun's first rays.

"Where are you going?" the child asked him, in a voice too strong and clear for one so young. The king knew at once that he spoke to the newborn Year.

"I search for the woman I love," the king said, "though I have nothing to find her save the shoe she left behind."

"I know her well," the New Year said, "for she was a great friend of my mother's. You will find her in a house at the edge of the city, where spring's blossoms sit next to summer's roses and autumn's fresh apples."

With many thanks, the king swept the child onto his horse, wrapped her in his cloak, and sped off toward the far edge of the city. Before long, he came upon Alena's house, and knew it by the baskets of blossoms, roses and apples she had kept by the kitchen window.

When Alena's stepmother had come home from the ball, she had seen the signs of autumn, spring and summer in her kitchen, and knew that Alena had been the princess at the ball. She searched in Alena's room and found the partner to the shoe the prince held, then she seized Alena by the hair and locked her deep within the cellar. As she saw the prince approach, she fetched Vanda--her own ugly, cruel daughter--and perched her near the window with the blossoming roses, with the shoe of ice upon her foot.

The king rode to the house's entrance and presented himself by the main doors. Alena's stepmother greeted him with warm joy and welcomed him inside. While she took the king's cloak and tended to his boots, she did not see the small child toddle from the prince's side and make her way to the room where Vanda sat waiting.

Once there, the New Year reached her tiny hands toward the loaf of bread that Alena had baked only that morning. "Might I have something to eat?" she asked Vanda.

"Go away, little girl," Vanda said crossly. "Don't you know that the prince is here?"

The New Year asked for bread again, and once more, Vanda scolded her. At last, the child began to cry, and Vanda hit her on the ear and sent her tumbling to the floor.

Red-faced and crying, the New Year rose to her feet and told Vanya. "You are a cruel, selfish girl. Your heart is cold as ice, and so it is winter that will reign in this house today."

With her words, all the doors and windows of the room flew open, and a wind as cold as death blew in. Snow blew into the room and fell in drifts upon the floor. Before long, Vanda's lips and hands were blue, but her feet, encased in blocks of freezing ice, were black as coal.

Vanya's screams drew her mother to her side, and the king, alarmed, trailed in after her. He saw the girl with blackened feet, and though one foot wore the slipper of ice, he knew she was not the girl he sought. He feared that these cruel women had done her some great harm.

While Vanya's mother tended to her and sent for the doctor, the king saw the New Year standing in a drift of snow. He lifted her onto a stool, wrapped her in his cloak, and asked her, "Where is the woman I love? You promised she was here, yet I do not see her, and there are no other women in this house."

"You will find her in the one place where winter did not touch," the New Year said, "for her heart is too warm to be touched by ice."

The king waded through the kitchen's drifting snow and opened the door of the pantry. There, he saw all the house's food stores covered in snow and ice, but with not a flake covering the small door that led to the cellar. With a few blows, the door broke open, and the king pulled Alena out into the morning light.

"I have found you at last," the king cried in joy, and knelt before her with the slipper of ice. "You have my heart," the king replied, "and if you are willing, I would make you my bride."

With a smile, Alena said, "I will gladly be your wife."

With joy, the king took Alena to his home and introduced her to his court as his chosen bride. The people were charmed at once by her beauty and her kindness, and before the month was over, she was wed to the king and became queen over all the land. Her stepmother and stepsister, with Vanya maimed and their food frozen, became paupers, because they, in their pride, refused all of Alena's charity. Their cruelty gained them no friends, and before the winter's end, they were found, frozen to death, in winter's snow.

Alena, reigning as queen by her husband's side, became beloved by all the land. She and her husband remained pure of soul and warm of heart, and together they all lived happily for all the rest of their years.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #cinderella #have one last fairy tale #i've wanted to do a new year's eve cinderella #and one that mashed it up with the story of the twelve months that i've liked since i was a kid #i came up with the angle when i woke up the morning of the 30th #and decided i had to pull it together before the end of the year #i had wanted to do a full story but it only seemed to work as a fairy tale #(i also wanted to have the twelve months as separate men like in the fairy tale)#(but in practice hiding twelve men made the story ridiculous)#(and the new year as one woman seemed to work both from the fairy godmother angle and the new year angle)#i hope it's not too boring or trite #i just had to write it as quickly as possible #this was just how it came out so i'll have to go with it

2K notes · View notes

hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 5 months

Text

To Stop Winter

Bucky had never been the chattiest Avenger, and if Y/N was being honest, he scared her a little bit. He was tall, brooding, and had a super-strong metal arm for goodness’ sake! Steve would always assure her that Bucky was quite friendly when you got to know him, but Y/N wasn’t entirely convinced. Nevertheless, she supposed she ought to try to socialize with him a little bit, at least so she wouldn’t be on his bad side.

It was on one of these trips to make conversation with the super soldier that Y/N got the feeling that she was being watched. She shrugged it off and approached him. Bucky was on the couch, reading The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien. Oh. Y/N probably shouldn’t bother him; after all, she didn’t like to be bothered when she was reading, and who knew how cranky he might get if she stopped him during a good part-

“Kid?”

Y/N stiffened, not realizing she had been staring at him.

“Uh, hi,” Y/N said.

“Something you needed?” Bucky asked.

“Nope, nothing,” Y/N said quickly, “just uh, just looking for Steve. Yeah.”

Bucky paused, his expression unreadable.

“He’s in the training room,” he said.

‘R-right, thanks,” Y/N said, quickly scurrying off.

…

Bucky watched Y/N leave, careful to keep his confusion to himself. Y/N was so flighty, it worried him.

…

Y/N stopped outside the training room. She didn’t want to bother Steve either. Not that he would mind, but still. Y/N turned to go back to her room, but stopped when she realized she’d have to pass through the living room again. That could be awkward…Y/N was just about to open the door when she felt a sudden pinch in her neck. Y/N blinked, puzzled, reaching up to her neck and pulling out a small, black dart.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. She went to call out for Steve when a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides. Her shout was quite muffled, and her struggles quickly became feeble. She heard someone speaking in a foreign accent before her eyes fluttered shut and her consciousness faded.

…

Y/N stirred to the sound of voices nearby. She opened bleary eyes and saw two men in dark uniforms with a red symbol embroidered on the shoulder.

“HYDRA?” she mumbled.

The men turned, seeing that their captive was awake. One of them approached her, ruffling her hair.

“Welcome little soldier,” he said, his Russian accent quite thick, “you should be honored to be here.”

Y/N yanked her head away, discovering that she was strapped to an operating chair.

“Wha- what is this?” she asked groggily.

The men ignored her, continuing to speak to each other in Russian. Some scientists entered the room, dressed in white lab coats and immediately going to control panels, flipping switches and pressing buttons.

“Hey- stop- what’s going on!?”

“Ah, how rude of me,” the first man said, “Y/N Y/L/N, you are about to become the first of cryogenically enhanced super soldiers-”

Wait- Y/N already was cryogenically enhanced! Why didn’t she try something sooner? Y/N summoned ice crystals to cut through the straps holding her in place… they melted as soon as they formed.

“Huh!?”

The man stopped speaking when he saw Y/N’s frankly pathetic escape attempt. He laughed, the sound echoing in the room.

“Little soldier,” he said, “did you think we would not take precautions? We have injected a serum that has temporarily disabled your abilities. After all, this operation was risky enough as it is, we will not let you spoil things by leaving. The world needs a Winter Solider, and since the last one is no longer useable, we will take a younger, stronger specimen to enhance.”

The reality of the situation finally sunk in. Y/N’s eyes went wide, and she started to thrash and struggle in her restraints. The scientists continued to work at the control panels, and one of them approached Y/N with a small block of wood.

“I think you will want that,” the HYDRA agent said, “this won’t be a pleasant experience for you.”

The scientist put the block of wood in between Y/N’s teeth. Tears brimmed in her eyes and her breaths came in short and fast. An electric panel was positioned over her left eye. Y/N screwed her eyes shut when she heard the sound of metal ripping apart.

She opened her eyes when no pain came. Scientists and the two agents rushed to the door, but they each fell to the ground as bullets flew through them. Bucky burst through the shredded doorway, automatic rifle in hand.

Y/N spat out the block of wood.

“Bucky!”

Bucky mowed through the rest of the scientists and agents, making a beeline for Y/N. He hoisted the gun over his shoulder and started working on the straps restraining her.

“Can you walk?” Bucky asked.

Y/N nodded. She stood up…and her knees buckled. Bucky caught her before she could hit the ground.

“I-I’m sorry-I don’t know why-“

“You’ve been drugged with who knows what,” he said, “hold on.”

Bucky easily lifted Y/N into a bridal carry. Y/N squeaked, putting her arms around his neck. Bucky rushed Y/N out of the HYDRA base and into the Quin-Jet outside. He laid her down on a padded bench and got in the pilot’s seat, flying them both back to Avengers Tower.

Once the Quin-Jet had been cloaked and was on autopilot, Bucky approached Y/N, crouching down next to her.

“You okay, kid?” he asked gently.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Y/N felt absolutely exhausted.

“They-” she gulped, “they were gonna- I was gonna- how did you find me?”

Bucky smiled.

“I keep a pretty close eye on you, Y/N,” he said, “even HYDRA can’t keep you out of my sight for long.”

“Oh.”

The tears started falling freely now. Y/N suddenly reached up and hugged Bucky as tight as she could manage.

…

Bucky, stunned at first, slowly hugged Y/N back. He’d have to take her to the med bay when they got back to Avengers Tower, who knew what else the HYDRA agents had pumped into her system before waking up.

Bucky didn’t let go until he noticed Y/N had gone limp in his arms. He pulled away to see that she was out cold. Yep, definitely going to the med bay when they got back. He laid her back down and covered her with a blanket, then went back to the cockpit to radio in and let Steve know they were coming.

…

Y/N woke up in the med bay, an IV in her arm and steady beeping filling the silence. She turned her head to the side and saw Bucky, still reading The Return of the King. He looked up, and noticing she was awake, set the book off to the side.

“Hey kid,” he said, “how’re you feeling?”

“Like I slept way too much and not enough at the same time,” Y/N admitted.

“Yeah… they had you on a power-suppressing serum, an analgesic, and a sedative. I’m honestly surprised you woke up when you did.”

The two didn’t say anything for several moments.

“Well, uh,” Bucky started, “I should probably let Dr. Cho know you’re awake.”

Bucky stood up to leave, but Y/N grabbed his hand weakly. He looked down at her.

“Thank you, Bucky,” she said, “for saving me.”

Bucky smiled again, squeezing her hand a little before letting go and heading to the door.

“I’d do it for you anytime, Y/N,” he said.

Y/N wasn’t afraid of Bucky anymore after that day.

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

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @thepenultimateword

127 notes · View notes

blamemma · 5 months

Note

omg emma… your tags on alexis’s post are so genius… dirtbag daniel not ready to date a guy doesn’t notice his entire existence is dedicated to making max happy… max accidentally calling daniel “daniel” on the radio when he’s at mercedes… daniel making bitchy comments to the press?!

i think i genuinely might be dying over thinking about the contrast between daniel irl leaving for renault vs. engineer max leaving daniel for mercedes. (also for me, for this to work, u gotta role-reverse the ages as well and make max older daniel younger)

max finding himself stuck...at red bull. a deep intrinsic feeling inside him that he's got nowhere to go, rised as high as he thinks he can within the team, has attached himself to someone (daniel) who doesn't need him as much as max needs him (entirely false, daniel is half the driver he is because of max) and so takes a secret meeting with toto who has been trying to poach max ever since he first started climbing the ranks at red bull and making a name for himself. toto promising him everything in the world. and more. promises him he can be lewis' engineer and head of race engineering. promises him bonuses he's never heard of. promises that max can also help out with mercedes sim racing team in his spare time at the factory. and max thinks and thinks and thinks about it and if there's one thing max is, it's honest. so he tells christian. tells him bluntly and succinctly and christian throws so much at him but realistically max's mind is made up before he even sits down with toto.

and daniel overhearing a conversation he shouldn't and barging into max's private office furious with him, why are you leaving to work for the enemy kinda shit, are you trying to stab me in the back, what have i done to deserve this betrayal etc etc. daniel punches max's office wall and max knows then and there he's made the right decision. asks daniel to leave immediately. the second half of the season goes dreadful for them, max short with daniel on the radio, doesn't play up to his antics anymore, daniel being summoned to see the stewards every race for doing dumb shit he knows he shouldn't do. sky sports always cutting to shots of max rolling his eyes. but daniel still manages to scrape the championship and the red bull mechanics hold max and daniel aloft on their shoulders and spray them with champagne and max and daniel have their arms around each others shoulders and there is a fleeting moment where max looks at daniel, the brightness and happiness on his face and he realises this is why he does his job, this is why he should stay, but he pushes it down and down and down and down. daniel goes to perth. max goes to some tropical island somewhere.

(whilst in perth, daniel prints off the photo of him and max on rbr mechanic's shoulders and frames it. he puts it in his home office at first. but he doesn't spend enough time in there. he takes it out the frame and puts it on the fridge with a dutch flag magnet he has that max had gifted him after his first zandvoort win. but everytime someone came round they would look at it and ask why max would quit. he puts it back in the frame and puts it on his bedside table. it stays there)

and then they both turn up to testing. daniel in navy like always, max in a tight fitted white tommy hilfiger shirt (wHICH PERFECTLY ACCENTUATES HIS PUFFY PERKY FAT NIPPLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and daniel hates it hates it hates it hates it hates it. they ask each other how the winter break was and what they got up to but the conversation is stilted and wrong and they both leave it feeling devoid and empty. testing is testing and bahrain is bahrain. daniel and his new engineer miss a couple of points of key information and communication and its a bit of a shambles of a race but daniel still gets p2. stands below lewis on the podium. max to his immediate right-hand side. he stands tall and straight. head forward. listens to every single word of god save the king. doesn't shift slightly. listens and listens and listens. and then the trophys are handed out. he looks at it once. places it on the ground. looks at his shoes. remembers. remembers max. malaysia. bright red flushed eager and keen. stole daniel's shoe right out his hand. guzzled it down, no egging-on needed from daniel at all. the way they locked eyes afterwards. the blowjob in the club bathroom. the filthy sex they had later that evening. he looks up. oscar receives his trophy. the personnel shift and move and then he's gripping the neck of the champagne bottle hard, slamming it down on the podium, turning his back to lewis and oscar and spraying it all at max. max does the same, drenching daniel. he can see max's bright smile through the spray and daniel laughs, proper, shakes it and sprays him some more and when it's all gone, they stand, looking at each other, drenched, soaking, panting, breathless (MAXS WHITE TOMMY HILFIGER SHIRT DRIPPING WET SEE THROUGH PERKY PERKY PERKY HARD NIPPLES!!!!!!!!!) and christian horner is stood in the crowd head in hands knowing he's about to be faced with a dilemma.

and then YES "daniel 0.9 behind" and crofty picks up on it and makes some snarky comment about how red bull let max go so that he could infiltrate mercedes from the inside. daniel being sarcastic in the media when they ask him about max still calling him daniel and being like "well i obviously made an impression on him" or "its hard to forget me when i'm that good" and max hates the taunting but also loves it. gives him some sense that daniel still thinks about him also !!!

(late at night, daniel finds youtube videos of lewis' play by play race. he tells himself its to do with tactics and finding out lewis' racing lines etc. really he's listening to the radio. hearing the way max and lewis talk. trying to work out if they have the same relationship max and him have. if max uses the same intonation. the same phrases. if max flirts with lewis the way he did with daniel)

#dr #mv #maxiel #blame alexis for this because i am spiralling so hard about this right now i need to go howl at the moon !!!!!!!!!!!!

123 notes · View notes

humanpurposes · 9 months

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part vii (final)

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // this godforsaken mess that you made me

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut

Words: 9k

A/n: Sorry it's been a month since I updated this but we made it to the end!! Just wanna say thank you to everyone who's followed along, liked, commented on and reblogged this series, I've been so overwhelmed by the amazing responses to this, just all the love 🖤 Also available to read on AO3.

It’s easy to forget just how fucking freezing King’s Landing can be in December. She pulls her leather jacket a little tighter around herself but there’s not much she can do about the cold stabbing at her legs through her fishnets— why the fuck had she worn a mini dress in the first place? It falls a little higher up her thighs than she wants it to and the bust just doesn’t fit quite right, but she supposes she has to commit now. She at least counts herself lucky that it’s not snowing.

She looks down at the pavement as it moves underneath her black boots. There’s her second mistake— one cocktail past her usual limit. Now she feels aware but somehow numb. She finds wonder in everything around her, the glare of colourful lights on the outside of the bars they rush past, the pulsing of music from every direction, the smells of smoke, vapes, and that distinct, sharp scent of winter.

She had met Baela, Rhaena, Jace and their friends at a pub near the train station. Being the last to arrive, she sat at the edge of the table. It wasn’t a big group but that only made her more nervous. The other girls introduced themselves as Coryanne, Jeyne, Jess and Floris, all beautiful, all dressed immaculately. She told them her name and they said a unanimous “hi!” but other than that it was hard to talk to them while they gossiped about people she didn’t know and reminisced memories she had no part in. Even Jace was distracted; he was clearly all over Coryanne and spent the entire evening trying too hard to make her laugh.

So she kept ordering cocktails, a different one each time, downing them in quick succession and waiting for the evening to pass.

She keeps telling herself this was a good idea. She needs the distraction, anything to get her mind off the obvious.

The others are all walking ahead of her, and she has to keep sight of them because she has no idea where Dracarys actually is. Baela keeps looking over her shoulder every so often, to check on her she assumes. She gives her a nod and a polite smile, but when Baela turns around, her face falls back to a comfortable frown. She doesn’t mean to look miserable, but she can’t help it. It must be so obvious that she doesn’t belong with these people. She’s just a stray they’ve picked up out of pity.

They turn a corner and suddenly half the street is taken up with a queue of impatient looking people, all in smart shirts and party dresses. Baela calls her name and grabs her hand, pulling her along after the rest of their group.

“Surely this isn’t the line for Dracarys?” she says.

Baela chuckles and keeps marching ahead.

They walk along the queue for a good few minutes. Suddenly they reach an old building with columns and a bell tower. It looks like it could be a Sept or a museum, until she registers the glaring red lights, the tall braziers marking either side of the entrance and the neon logo of a dragon against a blue flame.

Apparently tagging along with not one but two Targaryens has its benefits. Baela keeps her close and their whole group breezes past the bouncers without being asked for ID or charged for entry.

“Dad’s a co-owner,” Baela says in her ear as they walk towards the front steps. She can already feel the bass of the music rattling in her chest.

There’s a smoking area at the bottom of the steps, cornered off from the street by tall hedges and iron gates. It’s dotted with mostly pairs of people, each engrossed in their own conversations.

As Baela leads her up the steps she notices a solitary figure, obscured by shadows, leaning against the wall with his back slightly curved and his chin tilted down. He lights a cigarette. The flicker of flame lights up the sharp features of his face and his silver hair.

Fuck.

Aemond’s not even a club kind of guy. He hates the dancing and the “shitty” music. He likes metal concerts and late-night conversations, preferably somewhere you can actually hear the person next to you.

A plume of smoke billows from his lips, and for whatever reason, he glances towards the front steps.

After a double take, his eyes meet hers, wide and curious.

She only realises she’s stopped walking when Baela tugs on her hand. “You coming or what?” she says over her shoulder, trying to keep up with the others.

She can’t take her eyes off him. Of all the places he could have spent New Years, why does he have to be here?

Don’t engage.

His back straightens as he takes his weight off the wall.

Let go.

She shakes her head and snaps herself out of whatever trance she’s under.

She’ll just ignore him. As long as she sticks with Balea and Jace, everything will work out fine. Surely.

The inside of the club is vast like the nave of the Grand Sept. It has a high vaulted ceiling and an enormous stained-glass window on the farthest wall from the doors.

The floor before them is a sea of bodies in flashy outfits, moving in time to a low, synthy song. Colourful lights cut through the darkness, giving the faces an eerie glow. A few groups linger around the edges of the room, drinking cocktails and taking shots in booths around glass tables. At the end of the hall, under the stained-glass window, is the bar, illuminated with red lights.

Baela keeps a tight hold of her hand as they all fight their way to the bar. Someone orders for her and the bartender places a shot glass of vibrant blue liquor in front of her. Rhaena screams “Happy New Year!” as the others cheers their glasses together.

She holds her up to the light before she downs it, wincing at the sickly, sweet and sour tang it leaves on her tongue.

Her heart thunders in her chest, confused by the music and the sense of dread pooling in her stomach.

Aemond is here.

She’s supposed to be ignoring him, and she had been doing a good job of it so far.

Until that fucking call on Christmas Eve.

What did he think was going to happen? Six months of nothing, then one phone call and she was going to come running back to him?

But she had already proved that she can’t say no to him, the night of the dinner party, while Alys and Cregan were only in adjacent rooms. All it had taken was his hands on her hips, his breath on her neck, a few harshly whispered words and the promise of a quick fuck. It was enough for her to give in, consequences be damned.

She looks back at doors on the other side of the room. She tells herself she’s not looking for a head of silver hair, but it isn’t much good lying to herself. One look at him outside a club and she can feel that hollow feeling in her chest, an emptiness that Aemond has always been able to fill so perfectly.

“How could I ever stop wanting you?”

“I just know these last couple of months have been fucking unbearable without you.”

Would he say the same now?

Rhaena screams again. She doesn’t catch what she says, but the answer to that is evident when Aegon and Daeron materialise from the crowd, hugging Rhaena, Baela and some of the girls. Jace’s face hardens and he puts his arm around Coryanne’s shoulders.

Then Aegon’s eyes come to her. “Fancy seeing you here!” she shouts into her ear over the music.

She can’t stop herself. “Is Aemond with you?”

Aegon glances towards the door. “He went outside for a fag.” He runs his tongue over his teeth and furrows his brow. “How are things with you and your mum?”

She frowns. “Why?”

Aegon’s eyes widen and he laughs to himself to play it off. “Just asking, I thought things might be a bit awkward what with… everything that’s gone on.”

“Everything?”

He pauses. “Him and Alys.”

“Right,” she says.

He doesn’t say anything else, but he’s looking at her like he’s trying to read her mind.

She hates not knowing what other people are thinking, and it only adds to her growing restlessness. Aemond wouldn’t tell Aegon about them, would he? But part of her thinks Aegon would use the opportunity to be more of a dick about it if he knew.

They find a booth and file in. Jace is clearly trying to avoid Aegon; he sits between Coryanne and Daeron. Baela is polite with both of her cousins and Rhaena is friendly, but maybe that’s just the booze. Either way, Aegon is a charmer, and slots himself nicely beside Floris. Jenye and Jess are all over each other, whispers into each other’s ears becoming kisses to their cheeks, necks and mouths.

She slips off her jacket and sits at the end of the table, alone. It's like being at the pub all over again.

Until she spots someone walking towards their table.

Aemond stops, his eyes only on her. No one else seems to have noticed him yet.

She looks across the table, at the only empty space left.

His chest rises and his nostrils flare. He slowly sits opposite her, keeping his shoulders tense and his hands in fists.

She wishes she had a drink in front of her, if only to have something to do. She moves between having her hands on and under the table, unable to keep her fingers still. She bounces her leg, messes with her hair, tries to focus on fragments of conversation drifting from the others.

Then something brushes against her, under the table. She freezes, but relaxes as she feels Aemond’s leg settling against hers. She glances across at him while pretending to listen to something Rhaena’s talking about. Aemond holds her gaze, leaning against the back of the booth with a solemn look on his face.

She can feel his breath on her hands as he exhales a deep breath.

Baela insists that she wants to dance, and so does Rhaena. They drag Daeron with them and disappear into the mass of dancers. Aemond has to stand to let them out, and when he sits back down his leg brushes against hers again.

It’s so painfully obvious that everyone at the table is coupled up, Jace and Coryanne, Aegon and Floris, Jeyne and Jess. Aemond seems to be trying not to pay attention to any of them. He angles his head in the other direction.

She lets her eyes wander along the tightness of his jaw, the tendons in his neck, and the glint of a silver chain beneath his shirt.

She presses her lips together.

Don’t engage.

Don’t do anything stupid.

But maybe she should have thought of that before the cocktails.

She leans forward on her elbows, but as she opens her mouth to speak, Aemond calls Aegon’s name.

“Drink?” he mimes.

She doesn’t see Aegon’s reply. Aemond’s eyes move over her before he stands and heads towards the bar. Suddenly her leg feels cold at the absence.

A particularly loud giggle catches her attention. She looks down the table. Aegon is leaning into Floris’ ear with a dark look in his eye and she’s smiling, but he’s watching her. His eyes flicker over to the bar, and he grins.

Fucking pricks. The pair of them.

Only when she stands up does she realise how dizzy she is, but she ignores it, and makes her way through the crowd until she finds Baela, Rhaena and Daeron. She grabs Baela’s hands, less dancing, more stepping and swaying to the music.

But she keeps ending up turning her head towards the bar. It’s easy to spot Aemond, he towers over most of the people here, his silver hair gleaming under the red lights.

“I didn’t know they were going to be here,” Baela shouts into her ear, “it’s not too awkward is it?”

The music doesn’t make sense to her. It’s just noise. Everything is just frantic noise, and she can’t stand it. She feels restless, and so fucking angry. She wants to dig her nails into her palms. She wants to cry. She wants to scream.

“It’s fine!” she shouts back, “So fucking fine!”

She looks back to the bar. Aemond is at the front of the queue now.

“I need a drink,” she says, not loud enough for Baela to hear.

His name is a gentle hum in her throat as she gets closer to him, weaving her way through the other bodies in the crowd. She doesn’t care when they tell her to get in line and wait her turn. She keeps her eyes fixed on him.

Until he’s close enough to touch.

She watches her hand reach for his shoulder.

He turns his head around with a sharp look of surprise, but it melts away when he realises it’s her.

He mouths her name but she doesn’t hear it. He brushes his fingertips against the bare skin of her arm and she feels weightless. He’s looking at her. She can feel his heat through his shirt.

Until he withdraws his hand with an irritated huff. He leans into her until their noses are inches apart. Even in the low light of the club his eyes are only marginally blue, and she smells whisky on his breath. “Don’t start this again,” he says over the music.

She scowls until her face hurts. “You called me.”

“And you didn’t pick up.”

Her heart shatters. She thought she had done the right thing, but it seems a common occurrence with Aemond that nothing is ever right.

“It was a mistake,” he says sharply, “a stupid fucking mistake. Just forget it.”

He brushes her hand from his shoulder and storms off towards the front doors.

Panic and confusion courses through her. It feels worse because she’s drunk, she knows that, but it still hurts.

Her eyes start to sting as one song ends and another begins. It’s one everyone in the room seems to recognise.

She fights her way back to the booth and grabs her jacket, slipping it over her arms.

Jeyene and Jess are gone, and Jace and Coryanne have found their way to the dancefloor. Floris and Aegon are the only ones left, her legs draped over his lap.

“Leaving so soon?” Aegon coos.

She doesn’t spare him any of her attention. She tries to spot Aemond as she makes her way to the doors on unsure legs.

What if he’s already left? What if this is it, and he never so much as tries to speak to her again? What if she finds him and he pushes her away?

“Five minutes to midnight, ladies and gentlemen!” a voice booms through the speakers. Moving through the room is like swimming against the current as more people make their way to the dance floor, but she manages to make it to the doors.

The cold air hits her suddenly. It burns in her lungs and bites at her skin. The front steps and the street below her are quiet now, and so is the smoking area. Save for one person.

Aemond sits on a bench, hunched over himself, flicking his lighter, but never lighting a cigarette.

He looks up when she stops in front of him, his lips slightly parted, the red lights casting shadows in the angles of his chin and cheeks, and his nose.

“Are you seriously running away from me?” she says.

His mouth is in a thin line. He keeps flicking the lighter open and shut, open and shut. “You seemed happy enough avoiding me before.”

“Before? Before what? Before you left me in a hotel room?”

Aemond groans and rubs his fingers over his temple. “I’m not sober enough to have this conversation.”

“No, you’d rather ignore me for the rest of your life.”

“Look, I just want to go about doing things the right way—”

“I think we’re way fucking past that now.”

He groans. “What do you want me to do then?” he says, his voice laced with spite.

“Take some fucking responsibility!” she cries, louder than she means to.

He takes her off guard when he stands and steps into her. She takes a step back, and he keeps walking, until her back meets a wall. “And what does responsibility look like, hmm?” He places a hand beside her head leans in further still, until all she sees is the furious look in his eyes. “I called and you didn’t pick up. I try to keep my distance and look at you, you’re still practically begging for my attention.”

“Once,” she utters. “You called me once in six months.”

“And if I had tried before, after the dinner, after I left Alys, would you have listened to me?”

Her head lolls into her shoulder. All she remembers of that day is her mum, screaming and crying, storming upstairs and slamming her bedroom door. She stood there, in the kitchen, hands shaking, tears streaming down her face and her heartbeat pulsing in her head.

Her entire world had come crumbling down. Her mother hated her, and she was going to have to break things off with Cregan, and Aemond was gone. If he had called her then, she doesn’t know if she would have been able to manage a single word.

“No,” she says.

Her heart leaps as he takes her chin in his fingertips and tilts her gaze up to him.

He looks down at her with challenge, his eyes squinted slightly, lips in a smug pout. “What do you want me to do? How do I make this right?”

Her hands press against his chest, hypnotised as it rises and falls with each breath he takes. Then her eyes move to his mouth, that perfecting fucking mouth— it’s her favourite feature of his, she decides, the telling twitches of his lips and the way they feel against her skin.

Aemond clamps his hands over her wrists. “See?” he says in a low voice. “You think you’re so righteous, so perfect, but you’re just too fucking needy.”

She surges into him, grazing his lips with hers before he pulls away.

He keeps a tight grip on her wrists, and stares at her with wide eyes.

Only for him to come crashing into her, returning the favour with his own harsh and bruising kiss. He’s desperate and unforgiving, cupping her face with his hands so she has no choice but to let it consume her.

And she lets him. She lets him graze her lips with his teeth, slip his tongue into her mouth and steal the very air from her lungs.

The faint but familiar taste of whisky burns on her tongue. It’s thrilling and grounding all at once.

When they finally part from each other, he rests his forehead against hers. They glare at each other as they try to catch their breaths.

She can still feel the beat of the music from inside the club, and a voice over the speaker, gearing up for the countdown for the New Year.

“I meant it when I told you I loved you,” she says. “It’s not how I wanted to say it, but it was the truth.”

Aemond takes a harsh breath and runs his hand over his forehead, through his hair. “I can’t do this now,” he whispers.

She leans further into the wall, only to find she can’t get away from him. She pushes against his chest, but all her strength is gone.

Aemond takes a small step away from her. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not thinking straight I…”

She doesn’t listen to him. She can’t, not past the pounding in her head, the retching feeling in her stomach and the crowd inside the club as they start to chant.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“You must have known how much you meant to me,” she says. Her voice is clear and her tears are effortless.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

“And what did you do with it? You left me with nothing…”

“Four! Three! Two!”

“You showed me something I’ve never known and then you took it away, only to drag me back in…”

The world erupts around them. Every single voice in the city screams as midnight hits, fireworks and flares soar into the sky and burst with colour, light and noise.

“And I feel so stupid because I let you do it. But I still don’t understand… why do you have to be so fucking cruel? What did I do wrong?”

Aemond looks back at her with a face of agony. Flashes of green, red and gold glisten in his eyes.

“I thought I mattered to you,” she says.

“You did. You still do.”

Her head must be about to burst. She chokes on a sob and cradles her head in her hands.

She keeps her eyes on the floor as Aemond steps into her, and when he wraps his arms around her, she doesn’t have the energy to pull away.

“I’m so tired.” She says it over and over again.

There doesn’t seem to be a moment where they make an agreement, but she lets Aemond pry her hands from her face and lead her onto the street. He tucks her jacket tighter around her arms while he mutters about how cold it is.

She doesn’t feel the cold against her skin, but she can feel herself shivering and her teeth chattering.

A car pulls up to the pavement. Aemond opens the rear door and ushers her inside. It’s warm inside, and the seats are soft. He sits beside her and she falls into him. She closes her eyes, letting the motions and the hum of the engine lull her to a place between waking and sleeping.

Aemond’s gently shakes her awake when the car stops. Wherever he’s brought her, it’s quiet, and once the car disappears down the street, it’s almost silent.

Something cold lands on her cheek. She brushes it away and it melts under her fingers. She looks up, at heavy snowflakes against the streetlights, blinking them from her eyes as they fall.

Aemond takes her hand and she holds it tightly. The dusting of snow crunches under her boots as they walk, a short way along the street and up a series of steps. He doesn’t let go of her as he takes a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

He marches her up a seemingly endless number of stairs before they come to a corridor, and another door. It’s dark on the other side, and it smells like him.

She blinks as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. Tall windows make up most of the outer facing walls, and King’s Landing lays out before them. They must be on the outskirts of the city, given how quiet it is, but she can see everything from here, the lights on Conquest Street, the silhouettes of the Red Keep and the Grand Sept, fireworks and lanterns, and the void that is Blackwater Bay beyond the docks.

Aemond leads her through another door. She winces when he turns on a light, but as her vision starts to settle, she realises it’s a bedroom. She’s drawn to the bed like a magnet, collapsing against the duvet.

“Shoes,” Aemond says.

She kicks her boots off and tosses her jacket on the floor. She curls her face into the pillow. It occurs to her that she hasn’t taken her makeup off, but she’s too tired to really care.

Aemond won’t let her sleep yet. He hands her a glass of water and waits for her to drink a few sips. Then he takes it from her and hands her a t-shirt.

“No…” she drawls, falling back against the bed, “wanna sleep.”

“Please,” Aemond says softly.

She drags herself up, fumbling to undo the zip on her dress. She pulls it over her head and rids herself of her bra and fishnets and lifts her arms up for Aemond to help her into the t-shirt. That smells like him too.

“Better?” he says.

She won’t give him the satisfaction. She crawls underneath the duvet, and by the time the light switches off and the door closes, she’s already half asleep.

The first feeling that hits her is a dull ache pulsing in her head.

Then comes a dry feeling in her throat.

Then a nauseating kind of hunger.

And then dread.

Her eyes dart open; it’s still dark in here, wherever here is.

She looks down at the Pink Floyd t-shirt hanging off her. It’s too broad in the shoulders to be hers.

Her lips feel strange. She trails her fingertips over them and squints, just makeing out the shape of her dress and her boots on the floor.

The memories start to fade into view, like a fog lifting from her mind. The pub, the club, the loneliness, and Aemond…

“Fuck,” she hisses.

She’s still a little dizzy as she drags herself from the bed. She finds her phone in her jacket, on the last legs of its battery. 8:55, 1st January glares up at her on the screen, along with texts and missed calls from Baela, Rhaena, Jace and Alys.

“Fuck!”

She grabs the glass of water on the bedside table and treads softly along the hardwood floor, to the door.

She hovers her hand over the handle. She’ll have to come out eventually, might as well get it over with.

The bedroom leads out to an open living space she doesn’t recognise in the slightest. In the corner there’s a kitchen and a small dining table with four chairs, then the rest of the room holds two sofas, a coffee table, a record player, plenty of bookshelves and by the window, a desk and a prayer plant with a ribbon tied around its pot.

None of the lights are on and from what she can tell, Aemond isn’t even here. The room is lit only by daylight. Beyond the windows, the sky is a dull grey and King’s Landing is covered in snow.

Nothing about the apartment is disorderly, expect perhaps for the extensive collection of shoes and coats by the door, most of them black with the odd item of brown for some variety.

The only photos on display are on the desk. One is of Alicent and Helaena, both in pale blue jeans and white blouses, with gentle smiles their arms around each other. Another is of Aegon and Daeron sitting by the pool at Dragonstone. The final one is of an arched, stone bridge, which she recognises immediately as Roseroad Bridge in Oldtown. It’s lined with statues of famous Maesters, Steptons and members of the Hightower family, and she walks along it every day to get from her apartment to uni.

He has his own place now then. She wonders if he moved in right after he left Queen’s Park.

She resists the urge to run her fingers along the desk, or over the closed cover of a notebook and the ink pen beside it.

Her head snaps towards the front door as it unlocks. Aemond walks in with snow on his jacket, a brown paper bag and two coffee cups in a drinks holder.

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Morning,” he mutters, closing the door behind him.

She slowly makes her way to the kitchen as he unpacks the bag— eggs, a loaf of sourdough and some cherry tomatoes.

He looks up at her, and places one of the cups in front of her. “Oat, vanilla latte.”

“Thanks,” she says. It’s not quite as hot as she would have liked, but she’ll forgive him on account of the snow.

“Sit down,” he says, nodding to the dining table. “Won’t take me long.”

He plates up scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on toast and they eat in silence. After that he quietly clears their plates. She wonders if he’s scared of making too much noise.

Then he comes to sit back down, with a fresh glass of water and painkillers for her.

He sits rigidly against his chair, with one hand on the table and the other in his lap. She’d bet anything his fingers are restless under the table.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

She considers for a moment. She’s starting to feel somewhat closer to normal, but the panic has yet to wear off. “Fine.”

She glances around the room. “This is nice,” she says.

“Rhaenys owns it. She let me move in at short notice.”

“After…”

“After I ended things with Alys.”

She hums distantly, folding her arms and crossing her leg over her knee.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says.

“Which part are you sorry for?”

He angles an eyebrow at her. “All of it?”

She pouts her lips in irritation— a habit she picked up from him.

His mouth quirks. He clears his throat, takes a sip of his coffee and, by the look of it, struggles to swallow it.

“I’m sorry too, for being so careless,” she says.

“No, I should have left once I saw you.” He presses his lips together and taps his fingertip against the table, three times. “And I’m sorry for calling you on Christmas Eve. I don’t even know what I would have said.”

Her heart sinks, but she reminds herself that’s what she should want. “Just a stupid mistake, yeah?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Did I really say that? It was actually highly premeditated.”

“Why?” she asks with more disgust than she means to.

He gestures with his hands, as though it should be obvious. “I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

The tension fades from her face. She feels the pull, the hope, the way it crushes her and makes her feel lighter. That’s all she had wanted, as she watched the phone ring, for him to want her, and then she could allow herself to want him back, even though it always ends in misery.

She can still remember what he looked like when they were at Dragonstone, that quiet, reserved kid who spent more time reading than he spent talking. She remembers how excited she was whenever their eyes met or she spotted him sitting alone. She remembers that day he showed her around the house and the gallery. She thought he was going to kiss her then, but he never did.

Maybe he never cared. Maybe was just using her. Maybe she was nothing but another body to fuck.

That doesn’t explain the small things. The hours he spent studying with her, the nights they stayed up talking about anything they could think of, his attentiveness for details, her coffee order, her favourite songs, the way he celebrated her happiness and read her like a book.

“How did we end up here?” she says, “how did we make such a mess of this?”

For a moment he looks like he’s going to reach for her hand, but he stops himself. “I had such a crush on you, when you came to Dragonstone you know,” he says.

“You never said anything.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think you liked me.”

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a breath. It seems like such a simple misunderstanding for all the pain it has caused.

“I just remember thinking that someone as wonderful as you would never want…” he absentmindedly brushes his fingers along the scar over his eye. “I was different back then; I still had a lot to learn.”

“Aemond,” she says, drawing his eyes back to her, “I thought you were wonderful too.”

“Oh.” He stops himself from smiling and ends up twisting his lips and sticking his chin out in an awkward expression. “Look, I’ve had time to think, and talk this through—”

“With Aegon?”

“And Helaena.”

She tries not to roll her eyes.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” he says.

She leans back in her chair and raises her eyebrows.

Aemond draws his tongue between his lips. “I tried not to think much about you after Dragonstone. You were just Jace’s cousin, I didn’t think I’d have a reason to see you again. And then I knew that first night with Alys was a bad idea. But everything was happening with dad and Rhaenyra, mum was still upset about Storm’s End, and it was just after Harwin got sick… it just happened.”

“Good for you,” she grumbles.

“I’m not trying to play a sympathy card, I just want to tell you the truth,” he says. This time he doesn’t shy away from reaching for her hand. She doesn’t move, and watches as he settles for just resting his hand over hers. “I never meant for things to go as far as they did, but I needed a way out. I needed to get away from my family and Targ Corp. Alys gave me a purpose outside of all that.”

“So you used her?”

“Yes. And she got something out of it too.”

She doesn’t argue against that.

“I don’t know I thought maybe I’d be over how I felt about you. We were just kids, it had been a few years, but then I saw you… and you were perfect. Nothing could convince me otherwise.”

Guilt twinges in her chest. “It wasn’t just you,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I kissed you first.”

He tightens his hold of her hand. “But I still wanted you. And we worked it out so well, I just thought we could keep going as we were.”

“Until I fucked it up.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“I did though. I should never have said…” her eyes are starting to sting at the memory. Sprawled out on the bed, naked and not quite satisfied. The empty feeling in her chest as he left her there.

“I couldn’t take me eyes off you at the wedding,” Aemond says. “And then you had one conversation with that Stark kid, and I was losing my fucking mind. I knew why it bothered me. I know how I felt, no matter how I tried to rationalise it. I knew how I felt about you. I always knew.”

She blinks and two tears trail down her cheeks. She can’t manage any more than that.

“I panicked. I didn’t know what it would mean if you felt the same. It just became too real, I—” He exhales heavily, and runs his hand through his hair. “I know this is my mess. I should have stayed away from Alys. I should have been honest. But at the time, it just felt easier to just… let everything happen.”

She had never seen Alys cry as much as she had, that morning when she told her the truth.

“What did you say to mum?”

“After the dinner party? She’d had a horrible night as it was. She said she wished I had defended her more against my parents. I said she should have known what was going to happen before she invited everyone over and that she should stop trying to get involved in my life.”

“Can’t imagine she took that well.”

“I ended up telling her I had rethought my priorities. I couldn’t be what she needed. I said I’d leave Rivers PR and try to patch things up with my family.”

“You didn’t tell her about us though.”

He swipes his thumb over her knuckles. “I didn’t know if you would want me to.”

She takes a shallow breath. “I told her. After you left, I went downstairs and told her everything.”

“What did she say?”

Sometimes she still has nightmares about that morning. She stands in the kitchen while her mother just screams at her.

“She was so angry. It was understandable, I guess, but we barely spoke until I went to Oldtown.”

“You’re at the university?”

“Yeah. She said Oldtown sounded like a good idea. Lots of distance, far away from her.”

“And how has it been, being back home?”

“We talked about it. I think we both realised we didn’t want to lose each other over some stupid guy.”

He half smiles, and exhales. “She called me in September,” he says. “It must have been after you left. She just said she knew. She said I was ‘sick bastard’ and that I should never speak to either of you again.”

“That’s fair,” she says. She takes a sip from her coffee and it’s cold.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” he says. “And you don’t have to forgive me, I just wanted you to know.”

She nods with the smallest movement of her head.

Aemond slides his hand away from her. He leans over his elbows and taps his fingertips on the table again.

She keeps her eyes down as he clears up the coffee cups and follows the sound of his footsteps as he walks to the kitchen, then back to her, hovering over her shoulder.

He takes a slow breath.

“Whenever you’re ready, I could drop you home.”

“Thanks,” she mutters.

“Or if you want another drink, or a shower, or anything…”

She lifts her head and turns herself around to face him. He looks so tired.

“I’ll take you up on a shower.”

He leads her back to the bedroom, handing her a towel from a cupboard, and through to an ensuite with dark tiles on the walls, ceiling and floor, and a shower cornered off from the rest of the room by a glass screen.

She hangs the towel on the back of the door while Aemond runs the water, testing the temperature with his hand.

They turn back into each other.

A hazy cloud of steam fills the room. Aemond’s skin glistens, beads of water and sweat forming along his brow and his neck, but she keeps her gaze on his eyes.

She’s not sure who moves first, but they drift into one another, until their lips meet in an effortlessly delicate kiss.

But it quickly leads to something more intense when she pulls the t-shirt over her head and slides her panties down her legs.

Aemond groans lowly, pulling her into him by her waist, tracing his hands along every inch of her body he can reach. He kisses along her cheek, neck and shoulder as she teases the hem of his t-shirt and his toned stomach underneath.

He moans into her mouth, and she delights in it. “Whose needy now?” she asks sweetly against his lips.

He tears his t-shirt off in one quick movement and surges into kiss her again, cupping and kneading her breasts and her arse.

Then he takes her hands in his, and brings them down to the fly on his jeans.

She grins as he presses his forehead against hers. They both watch as she slowly undoes the buttons and hooks her fingers around the waistband.

She keeps her eyes on him as she pulls his cock free and comes to crouch in front of him, smiling at his clenched fists and tight jaw. He’s already half-hard as she starts to stroke along his length and runs her tongue along the underside of him.

She misses the weight of him in her mouth, his fist in her hair, his praises and the noises he makes as he spills down her throat, but before she can even place her lips at the tip, he drags her up to stand.

“Daddy—”

His usual commanding façade falls to something softer. “No,” he says, “just use my name.”

“Aemond,” she sighs.

He gives her a smug smile and reaches for the side of her neck, tilting her gaze up. “You still on the pill?”

Her breath hitches. “Yeah.”

“Hmm, good girl.”

He walks her into the shower, putting her back against the wall. Her back arches at the cold and the sensation of Aemond’s hands on her hips as he starts trailing kisses down her stomach. He pries her knees apart and teases the sensitive flesh of her thighs with his lips and tongue, edging closer to her cunt.

He must be feeling merciful and doesn’t waste too much time before drags his tongue through her folds.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “missed this perfect pussy.”

It would be embarrassing enough how quickly she comes on his tongue, but what’s worse is just how many times Aemond draws climax after climax from her, circling his tongue over her clit, fucking her with it, then replacing it with his fingers.

Her legs tremble as she feels her slick trickling down her thighs, but he doesn’t need her to stay standing for long. He comes to stand hitches her legs around his hips.

With his face buried in her neck he lines himself up with her entrance and slowly pushes himself inside of her.

She hisses and tugs on his hair at the stretch, but the pain doesn’t last long as he starts to rut into her.

“’m not gonna last long,” he says against her skin, panting with the effort as he picks up his pace.

But she can feel just how responsive her body is to him, just how much she’s missed the feeling of him, his cock dragging through her and hitting that perfect spot deep inside her.

She moans his name and holds him tighter, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.

Her orgasm is a wave of warmth, a soothing relief that just keeps going as Aemond continues to fuck her.

Until his hips still and she feels his cock throb inside of her. His voice is somewhere between a groan and whimper as he comes, and it sends another thrill down her spine.

Carefully, he lowers her down to stand on her own legs, keeping hold of her waist as warm water cascades over their bodies. His eyes don’t stop moving over her face, and she can’t stop touching him, threading her fingers though his hair, feeling along his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and his lips.

He turns her around. The cap of a bottle clicks and he lathers shampoo through her hair, then tilts her head back to rinse it out. Next, he coats it in conditioner, and keeping her back against his chest and his head over her shoulder, he washes her skin with a lavender body wash.

Then he pushes her into the wall by the base of her neck. She braces herself by her palms as he takes a delicate hold of her throat and fucks her again. He reaches deeper from this angle, bullying against her sweet spot.

Aemond keeps a steady pace and kisses the back of her neck. “Tell me you missed me,” he says.

“I missed you,” she utters, “missed how good you make me feel.”

“Hmm, missed being my good little slut?”

She tries to say it back, but all she manages is a throaty moan as she comes undone around him.

Then he washes the conditioner out of her hair like it’s nothing.

After he’s dried her off with the towel, he carries her back to the bedroom and lays her out on her back.

He’s insatiable. He fucks her again with their foreheads pressed together and their lips barely brushing over each other. Every brutal snap of his hips is another step towards a burning oblivion, and his pace barely falters as he positions her legs over his shoulders.

She can feel herself twitching and clamping around him, the coil in her belly tensing and tensing until it’s almost unbearable.

Aemond presses his teeth together and hisses like it hurts. “So tight,” he whispers, “my good girl, so fucking tight.”

“Please,” she utters, “Aemond, I wanna come,”

He frowns in mocking sympathy and grazes his lips over her the sensitive spot on her neck. “I know you do, baby, I’m close too, just hold out for me a little longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, barely a breath, and she says it over and over again. She closes her eyes so she can lose herself in it all, his cock dragging through her, the wet sounds of sex, the smell of sweat and lavender bodywash, his nose pressing against her cheek as he turns into her, his breath over her mouth, his desperate moans and whimpers…

Her orgasm rises and comes crashing down, until her skin comes alight and her body starts to tremble underneath him.

Aemond lets out a guttural groan as he comes, stilling his hips against her, pushing in impossibly deeper as a warmth floods through her.

He lifts his face to hover over hers. His hair is still damp and so is hers, leaving a cold patch on the pillow that makes her shiver.

Aemond leans on one hand over her and brings his thumb to her bottom lip to pry open her jaw.

She sticks her tongue out, ready and waiting as he trails a slow line of spit into her mouth.

“Swallow,” he mutters, and she does.

He smiles vaguely as takes her legs down from his shoulders and pulls her to sit up, cupping her face in his hands and leaning in to kiss her lazily.

This is how things were supposed to be, she thinks, winter mornings wrapped up in each other, her body settled in a perfect state between bliss and numbness.

Suddenly he’s moving away again. “All fours,” he says.

She rolls over her side and props herself against the mattress on her hands and knees.

Aemond keeps a punishing grip of her hips as he slides his cock into her sensitive pussy, fingertips digging into her flesh as he pulls her into him with every thrust.

It doesn’t take long before her arms feel weak and her wrists start to ache. “Aemond,” she whines, “please, please…”

Aemond pulls her against his chest as he keeps pounding into her. One arm wraps around her shoulders and her chest, holding her against him while his fingers pinch at one of her nipples. His other hand snakes down her body to play with her clit.

“Mine,” he groans against the shell of her ear, “you’re mine and you love it. I’m never going to let you go, never.” As harsh as his voice is he sounds desperate, pleading.

She holds her arms over the arm keeping her in place, helpless to do anything but cling to him and just take it.

She’s lost count of how many times he’s made her come, and this orgasm tears through her suddenly as a broken cry sounds in her throat. She digs her nails into Aemond’s arm to take the edge off as white-hot pleasure surges through her.

Her mind is completely fucked out. Aemond lets her fall back on the bed and spreads her legs, trailing his thumb through her soaked folds and his cum as it dribbles out of her.

And he slips into the bed beside her, pulling the duvet over their bodies and holding her close.

“I might need another shower,” she says.

Aemond huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to her temple.

It’s cold but she drags herself from the bed and goes to the ensuite to sort herself out. She runs herself another shower and brushes her teeth with a spare toothbrush she finds in a basket under the sink.

And when she comes back into the bedroom, Aemond looks at her with a dazed smile and a look of wonder in his eyes. She practically runs back to join him, wrapping her arms around his torso and tucking herself under his shoulder to rest her head over his heart.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he says.

She doesn’t reply but he knows she’s listening.

“I’ve been talking to mum and Otto, and I think I might take him up on that job offer at Beacon.”

Her heart beats a little faster, in time with his. Dread pools in her stomach again, eased by the afterglow and the satisfied ache between her legs.

“We’d both be in the same city, away from our families. I could get my own place.”

“And?” she utters.

“We could start over. We could try to make this work.”

Away from his parents and Targ Corp. Away from Alys. Away from the city she’s been trying to run away from.

“I think mum would kill me,” she says.

Aemond shrugs. “She wouldn’t have to know.”

“So what, we go back to keeping secrets?”

“No,” he says, turning on his side to face her. He places his hand on her neck, caressing his fingertips over her skin. “No, that’s the whole point, we wouldn’t have to hide anything in Oldtown. It would just be me and you.”

She meets his suggestion with silence.

“You don’t want to,” he whispers.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she says, propping herself up and resting a hand on his chest. “But we’ve made mistakes before. I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

Aemond’s expression shifts. His mouth tenses and his brow furrows, not quite angry, but hardly innocent.

“I understand,” he says, but she’s not sure she believes him.

She pulls herself away from him and swings her legs over the side of the bed, placing her feet on the floor. “I think you should just take me home.”

They fall back to silence. She slips into her dress and her jacket, stuffing her fishnets in her pocket because she can’t be bothered to put them on. She makes sure she has her phone and her keys, and waits for Aemond by the front door.

He’s not far behind her, appearing in a white knit jumper and a pair of blue jeans.

The streets are almost empty, and a good thing too because the roads are thick with snow. Aemond drives slowly and cautiously, not that he’s ever been an especially reckless driver.

The Bluetooth on the car picks up her phone automatically. She tuts as a Lana Del Rey song plays through the speakers.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, reaching to turn to audio off.

“No,” Aemond says, holding his hand over the button. “I like this song.”

She withdraws her hand and tries not to smile. “I fucking knew it. You’re a secret Lana fan.”

Aemond huffs a quiet laugh. “I just appreciate good music. Ultraviolence is a modern masterpiece.”

The weather gives them a reason not to talk for the rest of the way. She keeps her eyes ahead, pretending to be enchanted by the snow, but she keeps stealing glances of him, with minimal movements of her head so as not to draw his attention. She watches his hands as they grip the steering wheel, his legs as he presses down on the pedals, and his face in the reflection of the windshield.

It takes twice the amount of time it should for them to reach Queen’s Park, and he pulls over a few houses before hers.

Once they’ve stopped Aemond sighs and runs his hands over the wheel. He leaves the engine running to keep the heating going.

She eyes the door handle and her fingers twitch.

“When would you be moving to Oldtown?” she asks.

“I start at the end of the month. I’m trying to find a place before then.”

“Right,” she says.

She looks further down the street, but the house is hidden by hedges. Alys should have come straight home after her gala. Most days she’s an early riser, and she doesn’t tend to overdo it on the drinks when she’s working— which to her, is almost always. She’s probably in the kitchen, trying to figure out where in Seven Hells she ended up last night.

She looks back to Aemond. He’s watching her with wide eyes.

“I have my thesis due at the end of the term, and exams after that. I’ll be pretty busy,” she says.

He nods and peeks his tongue between his lips. “If you need anything,” he mutters, “you can call me, anytime.”

“Thanks.”

“And, you know, if you ever change your mind…”

“I’ll call you.”

The possibility seems more and more likely the longer she looks at him.

But she pushes open the car door before she does something stupid.

She follows the footsteps already laid out in the snow. It must be a good few inches of snowfall; the prints are set deep. Thank the Seven she’d chosen to wear boots and not heels.

“Wait—” He doesn’t need to say it loudly, it’s quiet enough that she hears him, even when he barely utters it.

She turns as Aemond slams the car door shut and closes the distance between them in a few strides.

“What?” she utters.

Aemond nudges his nose into hers and cups her cheeks in his hands. Her skin feels like ice against him. Warmth blooms in her chest, and suddenly she’s able to forget that she’s standing out in the snow, in a black mini dress and a leather jacket.

He tenderly presses his lips into hers. They kiss like it’s their first times, with slow and cautious movements. More than anything she just feels the shape of his lips and lets them rest against each other.

This time, when she pulls away for a breath, and those careless words come out of her mouth, barely above a whisper, he doesn’t break away from her. He doesn’t abandon her. He says it back.

It’s terrifying and grounding all at once.

She crashes her lips against his to kiss him properly, tugging at the collar of his jumper and running her hand over the pulse point of his neck.

She knows she can’t lie to herself. As soon as January is done, she’ll find his name in her phone. She’ll say she missed him. He’ll tell her he loves her, and she’ll say it back. Time will tell if it turns out to be a bad decision.

“I don’t think my life makes sense without you,” she says against his lips.

Aemond smiles, with a gentle curl of his mouth and a look of intense excitement in his eyes. “I know, baby. I know.”

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick @babygirlyofthevale

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

305 notes · View notes

lemonhemlock · 4 months

Note

strange that people had the thought that sansa was gonna stay in the vale and not go back to winterfell for so long when geographically other than bran(beyond the wall having trippy visions)/jon("dead")/rickon (cannibal island skagos) sansa is way closer to winterfell than a lot of characters and the knights of the vale is pretty much a chekhov's gun especially since like you said they havent joined the war yet and somehow sansa marching to winter fell with them was unbelievable since like 2009-2018 (her story might not follow the show especially because of the diverged storylines and she has the alternative to escape the vale but who knows)

It's no secret that Sansa was a very hated character throughout GoT's run. People ~manifesting she would stay in the Vale was a way of wishful-thinking her out of the narrative. Their dislike made them ignore reason and come up with many silly theories.

Much has been said about Sansa's pawn-to-queen narrative, but the main argument for her surviving the series is that, if GRRM wanted to kill her, he had many, many opportunities to do so in five books and didn't. Sansa is physically and socially vulnerable & her POV focuses on her rich internal world, strength and endurance, yet she remains unscathed and is instead learning court politics. Why is that? It's basic bildungsroman storytelling. Denying that is just being petty at this point.

Sansa also cannot remain in the Vale as Alayne, since that is Littlefinger's plot. Only the most delulu stans will not accept that a shady person such as Littlefinger will face authorial punishment for his sins. And, when he does die, what's stopping Sansa from claiming her identity? Especially as she finds out the feared and detested Ramsay Bolton has married "Arya Stark". She will naturally want to help her sister.

Now, I need to re-read for this, but I believe it is hinted in AFFC that Myranda Royce slyly figured out who Sansa is. If you remember the prologue of AGOT, the fancy, pretentious Night's Watch ranger from the group of three that first encounter the white walkers, is Waymar Royce. He is the third son of Bronze Yohn, head of House Royce. I did a quick search to refresh my memory:

"Bronze Yohn knows me," she reminded him. "He was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black." She had fallen wildly in love with Ser Waymar, she remembered dimly, but that was a lifetime ago, when she was a stupid little girl. "And that was not the only time. Lord Royce saw . . . he saw Sansa Stark again at King's Landing, during the Hand's tourney." Petyr put a finger under her chin. "That Royce glimpsed this pretty face I do not doubt, but it was one face in a thousand. A man fighting in a tourney has more to concern him than some child in the crowd. And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut. Men see what they expect to see, Alayne." He kissed her nose. "Have Maddy lay a fire in the solar. I shall receive our Lords Declarant there."

(AFFC, Alayne I)

I mean... you can't be more explicit than that. The Royces know who Sansa is, but they'll just keep quiet and play out this charade?

#sansa stark #ask #anon

88 notes · View notes

paragonrobits · 7 months

Text

Fionna at some point during the stay in Winter King's world probably: Y'know I was wondering. Why is Winter King taller than you? Simon, who has been privately seething over how Winter King seems like a better version of him in every way: I DONT KNOW. EVIL MAGIC PROBABLY. Simon: Oh, GOSH DARN IT ALL. Honesty forces me to say that its PROBABLY just a way this version of me is different. The version of you in my world certainly is taller than you; I suppose such differences aren't that surprising. Fionna: Come again? He's taller than me? Like.. that doesn't make sense. We're basically the same person, apart from gender identity. Shouldn't our bodies be the same kind of meat-stilts? Simon: I WISH. That would make sense. But he did go to a few other worlds and the stuff he told me scans with the idea that sometimes other versions of you look different. Fionna: Well, that kind of sucks. I wish I was taller. How much taller than me is he? Cake: Like are we talking a couple inches? Maybe a hands-width difference? Simon, conspiciously not giving a straight answer right away: Not... exactly. Fionna: Come on, doc! Spit it out! Simon: Okay. He's so tall that he has had serious trouble getting into doors for the past few years. Fionna: He what now. Simon: He is so large that his ARMS are bigger than me. I expect one bicep has more muscle mass than my entire body. Simon: My head barely comes up to his elbow, I THINK. At best I need a small stepladder to look him in the eyes. Fionna: ... Cake: uh oh. Simon: What's uh oh. Fionna, stoically walking off screen: Fionna, over the sounds of her violently kicking a stationary object as she screams in bloody rage at the unfairness of the universe: MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER!!!!!!

#fionna #adventure time #fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #simon petrikov #queued

133 notes · View notes

glimmervoi · 5 months

Text

A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD | II - Trust

Masterlist

Emeralds and Blood Masterlist

TW: Brief mention of SA

Notes: I'm not the happiest with this, but I have revised this chapter literally so much that it was driving me crazy every time I saw the draft on my tabs. It's not as good as I wanted but I hope you enjoy

The northern wing of the castle was beautiful.

When the older maid who had been tasked with showing you to the wing opened the double doors leading into the northern section, your jaw had instantly dropped to the ground.

The entire wing, at least from what you could see, was decorated in hues of purple and gold. The tall arched windows let in copious amounts of winter sunlight, brightening the colors around you.

The air smelled faintly of jasmine and was warm, despite you not seeing any fireplaces in sight. It was a beautiful space, and it was just the hallway. You were eager to see what the actual rooms looked like.

The older maid stood patiently while you gawked at your surroundings. She didn’t speak, but her eyes were cautiously warm.

A pang of jealousy shot through you, as you realized that this wasn’t a place that you would be able to enjoy. You were a maid now, and your only duty was to clean and tend to the royal family and their guests.

You would not have a portrait of yourself painted while you sat on one of the plush purple chairs against the wall. You wouldn’t get to lounge in front of the large windows, watching the gardeners work. You wouldn’t get to sip from a crystal glass of wine as you strolled down the halls.

It was a bitter feeling, knowing that you had been born in the wrong class. That you had come from a poor, starving village where everyone wore rags and had to ration out old, nearly inedible food while less hardworking people were enjoying this.

And this was only one part of the entire castle. There were other wings, different sections in each wing according to Sanria. The castle was massive, all for the King, Queen, and their seven sons.

You swallowed, your awe replaced by an unhappy feeling. The older maid’s eyes held understanding, and you wondered if she had gone through the same range of emotions when she had first stepped foot into one of the wings of the castle, however long ago that was.

“Sorry, I’m ready to continue.” You murmured, clasping your hands together in front of you. She nodded, and resumed her slow walk further into the wing. At the end, there was a carpeted flight of stairs.

You wondered how many floors to the wing there were, and if you’d have to climb many stairs to get to your final destination. Just before the steps however, the woman stopped.

You stood in front of a set of tall double doors, painted a pristine white. She knocked gently three times. You heard shuffling from behind the door, and then a moment later it creaked open.

There stood a plump, redheaded maid with striking blue eyes. By far, she had the most color and life to her face that you had seen from any of the staff that you had encountered in the castle yet.

Of course, you hadn’t come across very many staff, but it was still enough to be notable.

“Claudia, hello!” She said cheerily, placing a hand on her hip. She glanced over at you, giving you a quick once-over. “Brought me a new, unfortunate soul?” She asked.

Your brow raised slightly at that, and you felt a knot in your stomach begin to form. Claudia nodded once and made a movement with her hand that the redhead seemed to understand.

“Alright, thank you Claudia.” She said, patting her arm gently. “Why don’t you go get some lunch before Sanria asks you for yet another thing. She’ll run you into the ground if given the opportunity, but you already know that.” She said, nodding her head towards the exit to the wing.

You were a bit surprised that this younger maid felt comfortable enough to speak about Sanria in such a way. From the way that Sanria herself spoke, it made it seem as though she ran a tight ship that demanded only the utmost respect for its captain.

Claudia didn’t seem affected by the comment though and only smiled at her, before waving a farewell to you as she brushed by. You watched as she slowly ambled out of the wing and shut the large doors behind her, leaving you alone with the redhead.

You both were silent for a moment, simply examining each other. Then, the redhead stretched her hand out. “Nice to meet you, my name is Rae.” She said, giving you a large smile.

You hesitantly took it, and opened your mouth to introduce yourself. She cut you off however, squeezing your hand. “I already know your name, Angellica stopped by while you were cleaning yourself up.”

“Oh.” You deadpanned. She released your hand and wiped invisible dust off of her apron. She moved even further out of the room that she had emerged from and shut the doors behind her.

“Right, well this floor has already been finished and the other housemaids have already moved to the other floors.” Rae said, nodding her head towards the stairs. “Why don’t we head to the second floor and see what needs to be finished there?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she began to make her way towards the stairs, her hands held behind her back. You quietly followed behind her, unsure of her. She had called you an “unfortunate soul” so surely she wasn’t close with Sanria.

That didn’t mean she could be fully trusted though. Just because she didn’t sing Sanria’s praise at all times didn’t mean that she didn’t gossip to the headmaid. The last thing you needed was to gossip with her and have it get back to Sanria.

You were unsure of exactly what she would do to you if she grew angry, but you knew that getting fired wasn’t the worst fate you could suffer in this castle.

As you both climbed the stairs, Rae glanced back at you. “So, has anyone explained anything to you other than the contract that you signed with Sanria?” She asked.

You shook your head. “Only one thing, that I am a morning shift maid. I assume that means there will be night maids that I’ll end up meeting?”

Rae nodded as you rounded the corner to climb the second part of the stairs. “Yes. There are actually a few different kinds of maids here.” She said, gesturing to herself. “We have one of the easier tasks.”

You reached the top of the stairs to the second floor and were once again stunned by the beauty of it. It resembled the first floor, just reversed, but it still surprised you.

This floor had a few maids in the hall, dusting and polishing and sweeping. Their heads raised as you passed by with Rae, their eyes curious but wary. You gave them all small smiles, hoping to display that you weren’t a threat, but the corners of their lips continued to turn downward.

You turned back to Rae, who continued to lead you down the long hall. “What do you mean, different kinds of maids?” You asked, tilting your head. You weren’t told that you would be cooking anything, so maybe there were specific kitchen maids. Rae had just confirmed there were night maids. What else could there be?

She didn’t answer as she slowed down in front of a set of double doors that were cracked open. She knocked twice, before pushing her way in without waiting for a response. You hesitantly followed, glancing around.

There was a large, wooden table in the center of the room with a decently sized vase of winter flowers sitting in the middle. Around the table sat about ten chairs. Against the walls were different shelves full of books and what looked to be wooden boxes. It was fairly bland compared to the hallway, and it made you curious as to what the room was for. It felt as though rich people just had rooms to have them, and you couldn’t imagine this room having any practical uses.

A tall maid stood at the far end of the room with a feather duster in her hands as she stared out of a large window. She was watching something intently, and as you approached her you thought you noticed a figure moving into the woods that were bordering the castle.

“Esther.” Rae said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Esther turned, her green eyes wide and her cheeks pale. Rae’s face changed into an expression that you couldn’t decipher.

“Sorry, I became distracted.” Esther breathed, looking away. She pushed a stray strand of light brown hair away from her face and moved away from the window, her eyes fixed to the ground.

“It’s alright.” Rae said, her voice kind. There was a hint of something underneath it though that had your spine stiffening slightly. “I have a new maid with me today. I can finish this room with her, show her the ropes.”

“Alright.” Esther murmured, hurriedly walking to the silver cart next to one of the bookshelves to the right of the window. Rae stopped her however.

“If you wouldn’t mind grabbing a new cart? You have a perfect cart setup, I’d like to show our new maid what it looks like.” Rae said, nodding towards you. Esther’s eyes flicked up towards your face for only a second before she was looking at the ground again.

“Of course.” She said, placing the duster on the top of the cart. She then hurried from the room, returning the doors to the nearly closed position they were in before you had entered.

You examined Rae, wondering why that interaction had been so strange. While the redhead didn’t seem to be outwardly intimidating like Sanria, the other maids that interacted with her seemed to respect her.

She wasn’t volatile with the two that she had spoken to in your presence, she even made that comment about Sanria to the older maid who had brought you to her. You wondered who she was to the other maids.

You shook the thought away though as Rae motioned you over to the silver cart. It was loaded with various piles of rags of different fabrics, a feather duster, a couple of dark jars, a bucket, mop, and broom.

It was arranged neatly and made it easy to easily spot where things were. You silently thanked Esther for making your first task easier by not making you hunt for things on the cart.

“This is your cleaning cart.” Rae said, placing her hand on a stack of the rougher looking rags. “Two maids usually share a cart and work on a task together, but Esther’s partner is…” Rae cut herself off, her eyes growing slightly darker.

“Esther is currently doing solo tasks today, hence why she was given an easier room.” Rae finished, picking up one of the rags. “I saw the curiosity on your face when you entered this room, you were probably wondering what the purpose of the room is and why it’s not as fancy as the hall we were just in.”

She didn’t wait for you to reply. “This is a room for informal meetings. While the women like to sit in the nicer rooms, like the northern sun room, the men usually have their meetings here. Bigger table for cards and drinks, less furniture to destroy incase of a drunken fight.”

“I’m not sure if you were told, but in a week’s time the annual winter ball will take place in this castle.” Rae’s eyes glowed and a small smile found its way to her lips. She must like the winter ball a lot.

“The ballroom is filled with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, and influential socialites. Of the four seasonal balls, the winter ball is the largest. And of course, a week following the ball is yule, so any guests that went home for the week return for the yule celebration.”

“It sounds interesting.” You said, allowing your imagination to run wild with the images of what the ball might look like. You thought of beautiful silk gowns and warm candles scattered all over, guests dancing under the winter moonlight.

Another spark in your chest. Jealousy. You pushed the images away and locked them out, determined not to succumb to it on your first day at the castle. Rae was watching you carefully, and you smiled weakly.

“So, tell me about the other maids?” You raised a brow at her. “You said that there were different kinds, and that we had the easier job. What else is in this castle?”

Rae hummed, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she picked up the feather duster from the top of the cart. As she began to dust off the furniture, you picked up the broom and followed behind her, dusting the wood as she spoke.

“We are just cleaners. We wear the blue dress with the white apron, which identifies us as such. Of course, if we are asked for something by someone of the royal family, or even a guest, we are expected to do as we’re told. But there is a set of maids that specifically handle those things. They’re the service maids.”

“The service maids wear a black dress, as it looks neater than ours, and have different living quarters closer to the southern wing. The southern wing is where the royal family resides. The nightmaids are split between our wing and the southern wing, as they do a little bit of everything.”

“There are the kitchen maids, who handle all of the cooking. They also handle cooking for us, so I really wouldn't recommend pissing them off. They can and will hold meals from you, and Sanria enables it. They may not wear a pretty uniform, but they’re very important. They keep the family happy during meal times, and during special events they’re the ones making the massive amounts of food.”

“Lastly, the Queen’s maids.” Rae stopped dusting and turned to you, her face serious. “Now, I want you to remember this for as long as you stay here at the castle. The Queen’s maids are a special handful of young women that she picks herself. They’re by her side for almost the entire day, every day. They’re practically treated like royalty themselves. I don’t know exactly what they do during the day, but they’re the ones-”

She stopped herself again and swallowed, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Just be careful. Don’t try to befriend them. Don’t even look at them. You’ll know if you’ve come across one even if the queen isn't around because they wear a much more modest, all white version of our uniform. They wear veils to hide their faces, and they do not speak. They’re completely silent.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose, and you paused in your sweeping. You were unsure of what to say. A hand-picked group of maids who dressed in all white and didn’t speak. That sounded straight out of one of the scary ghost stories that the village boys used to tell to spook you out.

“It’s only your first day, but mistakes here aren’t tolerated no matter the reason.” Rae said quietly, stepping closer. “I’ve been stuck here for the last eleven years, and I’ve seen countless faces pass through here. Most of them don’t make it out. I’ve seen girls like you suffer awful, awful fates because they weren’t warned.”

Your mouth opened slightly in surprise. Rae had been at the castle for eleven years. That meant that she had renewed her contract twice. But why? It made your stomach turn in anxiety. What if she had to because there was nothing else outside of the castle? What if in five years, you couldn’t find anything else?

And her statement about seeing so many faces…just how bad was the turnover here? You knew that it wasn’t going to be a fairytale life when you had begun the journey to the castle, but as your day progressed you were beginning to realize just how bad things could get.

You examined Rae for a long moment. She didn’t seem like she was trying to deceive you. Her face held sincerity. You didn’t want to become just another face to her, someone who couldn’t even make it past your first week. Trusting her would be beneficial to you. Any help was appreciated, really.

“Alright.” You breathed, clutching the wooden handle of the broom. “I trust you. What else can you tell me so that I don’t get sent to the dungeons on my first day?”

You plopped down on your bed, exhausted. The frame creaked underneath you and you cringed, remembering that this bed was old and had been used by many others before you.

You pulled your boots off, sighing in relief as you began to massage your sore feet. You had missed lunch, and your stomach was growling like an angry bear that was desperate for food.

You watched as the other maids, which you had learned just did cleaning like you now did, as they slowly filtered into the sleeping chambers. Underneath the warm candlelight and away from Sanria’s eyes, they looked…happier.

There was small chatter that began to spark up in different parts of the room as they found their way to their beds. Some began to immediately change into their brown dresses, sighing in relief as they got out of their stiff uniform, while others sat on the edges of their bed like you and took their time taking their boots off.

Rae was a few beds down from you, speaking quietly to Esther. You watched them for a few moments, recounting what Rae had told you while you cleaned a particularly messy bathing room on the third floor of the northern wing.

The woman who you had watched Sanria beat earlier that day was Esther’s sister. Her name was Kassie. They had come to the castle together to save up for a new life, as they had come from a poor village like yours.

Kassie had met a Duke who had unfortunately taken advantage of her while drunk after a dinner with the King. Of course the young maid had reaped the consequences by falling pregnant and being sent to the dungeons. The Duke however? He went home to his own pregnant wife, unscathed.

All of the maids knew what had happened, and had tried to help Kassie out of the castle before she began to appear pregnant. She had been caught by Angellica though, and the result was what you had stumbled into earlier.

Esther was crying, and your heart ached for her. According to Rae, they were very close. You didn’t have any siblings, but you imagined if you did and you were close to them, then it would hurt deeply if one of them was taken from you.

You turned away from the pair, giving them privacy. You unfolded the brown dress that sat next to you on the bed and examined it. The material was the same as your blue dress, a bit scratchy but better than the rags you had arrived in.

There was no apron that came with it, and on the floor there was a pair of leather flats. Briefly, you wondered if any of the other maids actually left the castle for a night out. And, if they did, if they actually wore such a bland dress.

You stood, looking for a space to change in privacy. You weren’t too keen on changing in front of others, but the bathing room already had others entering for a nighttime bath before dinner.

You wondered if there was a closet outside of the room that you could hide in while you quickly changed, but before you could leave to check a slender brunette interrupted you.

She wore a black dress with a white apron, and you recognized her from Rae’s description as a service maid. She stood straight with her hands clasped in front of her, a kind smile on her pretty face.

“There aren’t any other spaces for you to change.” She said, her voice soft. You furrowed your brows, about to ask how she knew that that was what you were looking for.

“You’re probably wondering how I knew, right?” She asked, her brown eyes sparkling. You nodded. Were you really that easy to read? If so, you didn’t think you’d survive very long behind the castle's walls.

“Every new maid struggles with that.” She said, gesturing around her. “It can be a bit embarrassing the first few times. You get used to it though. Also, you were gripping the dress as you looked around, and I figured it wasn't because you were super happy about having it.”

“Ah.” You replied, looking down at the dress. You truly did not want to change in front of the others, but if it was how this service maid said, then you would have to.

“Like I said, you’ll get used to it.” She repeated, reaching her hand out. “My name is Alice, by the way. I’m a service maid, but I dropped by to speak with Rae.”

You took her hand and shook it,returning her friendly smile. “I assume you already know my name, too?” You asked, recalling how Angellica had told Rae before you had even signed your contract.

Alice nodded, releasing your hand. “Rae and I are not supervisors of our stations, but we’re just underneath. When Sanria and Iseul get a new employee, we find out right away too.”

Rae had described Iseul to you earlier. She was the head of the service maids and was just as cruel as Sanria. She was young for her position, but still found the audacity to speak down to the more experienced maids. Supposedly, Sanria had helped her get the position after the former head of service passed of old age.

“You won't see me very often, as I have different responsibilities throughout my day. If you need anything however, then you can find me in the southern servants chambers around mealtimes and after dinner. You’re allowed to enter even if you’re not a service maid as long as you’re not doing something you’re not supposed to.” Alice said, clasping her hands together again. “See you around?”

You nodded, thanking her. She turned and made her way to Esther and Rae, where she crouched down in front of the crying woman. She seemed to begin whispering kind words to her.

Once again, you turned away to give them privacy as you sat back down on your bed. Now, you had two people to look out for you. You stared down at your dress, frowning.

You had an uneasy feeling in your stomach despite the kindness of Rae and Alice. While you trusted Rae a little more than when you had first started, she hadn’t told you that she was directly under Sanria. It added a new twist.

You weren’t sure if you liked that. Combined with the winter ball that was coming in a week, and the yule celebration directly after it, things were about to become very busy. It meant more room for mistakes and more of a chance to get in trouble.

You sighed softly. You knew why you needed to be here, but you were regretting your decision to sign Sanria’s contract. The more you found out about the castle, the more you realized just how hard it was not to get in trouble.

Around every turn and corner was an opportunity to be punished. Rae couldn’t protect you from everything, and you were bound to slip up.

Five years never looked so long.

#bts #yandere bts #yandere bts fic #bts fic #yandere hoseok #yandere jhope #yandere jimin #yandere jin #yandere jungkook #yandere namjoon #yandere suga #yandere yoongi #yandere v #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #yandere rm

57 notes · View notes

gumycandyyy · 7 months

Note

OKAY IM FEELING BRAVE N NOT GOING ANON SO HI!!!

I love your writing n I was wondering if i could request a WK x Gn! Reader where the reader is like crashed into a cave or smthn, wk goes to investigate and they find the reader that (size wise) is like HUGE, like 16 feet tall!! BUT. once they see wk they shrink down to around his size, n they talk n find out they’re from like a diff planet in their universe?! N they can’t get back.

(idk where this idea came from I apologize:3)

୨♡ Ｙｏｕ＇ｒｅＳｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ，Ａｒｅｎ＇ｔｙｏｕ？" ♡୧

I love this idea! I think I'm gonna combine it with another ask i got.

(For those wondering why the gumlee fanart tag is here, it's because I put some of my art at the end of every fic. It just happens to be gumlee this time)

Gender neutral reader

Romantic

Type: Headcanons

Request: Yup! They're back open, too!

Some descriptions of the reader, nothing detailed, just dragon stuff.

Summary: Being a space dragon is cool. Except for when you're too tired to leave a planet.. Thankfully, you have help from a new friend.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

-You're a space being.

-A celestial dragon, if you will.

-You're quite a majestic being, even having some of your own constellations named after you.

-Perks of being a beautiful immortal creature.

-While you're practically immortal, you can get tired, especially after traversing through the cosmos.

-So every so often, you gracefully land on a habitable planet, to regain your strength for a few days.

-You more or less crash landed on this one.

-It was called Ooo, if you recall correctly. You're sometimes allowed to name a few planets or stars, but this one has existed for longer than you have.

-It's a little embarrassing to be taking refuge in such an old planet.

-However, you had the funniest encounter while on Ooo.

-It was little more than twenty minutes after you crash landed in an icy forest.

-You had knocked down quite a few trees and stirred up quite the commotion in a town nearby, as they could see you flying in from the atmosphere.

-You were trying to take a few splinters out in your dragon form when you met...

-Him.

-It sounded so cheesy, but you had never seen a more beautiful thing in the universe.

-Safe to say you were floored.

-Literally.

-He and a few... What looked to be scouts and knights made of ice neared you cautiously.

-He seemed to recognize you, which was a little strange. You guessed there were history books of some sort written about you.

-He introduced himself as the Winter King, and welcomed you to Ooo.

-Yes, he had definitely heard of you.

-You decided to shift into your smaller form. It was still ethereal and god-like, but it was easier on the eyes than being a twenty-foot tall dragon.

-You kept your wings and horns, just parts of yourself that you thought to be enchanting.

-the Winter King spoke to you, a little shocked at your sudden shift. You were wearing clothes, what other mortal customs had you missed?

"Well, *ahem* it is my honor to meet a celestial being such as yourself! If I may ask, why choose this planet?"

-You explained that it was the nearest habitable planet, and that it didn't matter too much.

-You didn't think too highly of yourself, as you were quite low on the god-scale. Only a minor universal god, instead of being a multiversal god.

-If that made any sense.

-You politely asked Winter King if you could regain your strength in his kingdom.

"Oh, why of course! A- anything for someone such as yourself!" -His pale blue skin flushed in a pinkish tone, and his voice faltered ever so slightly.

-You tended to have that effect on people.

-However, he seemed to be handling your presence quite well, so part of you wondered if he were somewhat immortal, or was just a magic user in general.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

-You stayed for a little less than two weeks, learning quite a bit as you took refuge.

-You were quite uneducated when it came to planets like Ooo, embarrassingly so, at times.

-But it felt nice to have Winter King explain things to you.

-He seemed so respectful, yet so interested in everything you did or said.

-It turned out he was an astronomy nerd, and stories of you were his favorite.

-He wrote down practically everything you said, but as time went on, it seemed less like worship and more like interactions between friends.

-You preferred it that way, to be honest.

-You learned not only much about Ooo, but also much about the Winter Kingdom as well.

-Whenever it snowed softly, you would always spend time outside, sometimes dragging Winter along with you.

-You did everything from nap, to play in the snow.

-It seemed childish, but the two of you had quite a bit of fun.

-Not to mention the food there was absolutely phenomenal.

-You swore that you would return the generous favor of the Winter King.

-When it eventually came time for you to leave the planet, the both of you were quite sad.

-However, you knew if you stayed longer, you'd never leave. And that wasn't good.

-You were out on the terrace, having said your goodbyes to Winter and the citizens, ready to shift to your ethereal form to take flight.

-However, you felt something nagging at you to stay for a few more moments.

-You were correct to wait.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Winter called your name, looking to have run all the way up here. He placed his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths.

"Winter..? I thought you already said goodbye?" Winter cleared his throat and stood up, placing his hands behind his back. He'd regained his composure so quickly it was shocking. He cleared his throat once again.

"It just occurred to me that I never asked for that return favor.." You brought your hand up to your lips, ashamed you forgot your promise.

"I- Oh my word, I apologize. I forgot."

Winter assured you that it was no big deal, and that his favor was only a small one. He stepped towards you, almost shyly.

"Well, rest assured, I can do almost anything. There is a grey area in which I'm unable to give, but otherwise, I will do anything in my power to grant you what you seek."

Winter blushed, his gaze transfixed on the ground. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Your large wings twitched, and after a few moments, Winter seemed to have figured out what he wanted.

"If it's not too much to ask, I'd like to request..."

He looked up at you with the sweetest of smiles.

"A kiss."

You were taken aback for just a moment, but regained your composure as quickly as you lost it. You took a step towards Winter, returning his warm smile.

"Well, if that's all you seek, I would be more than happy to give you what you so desire."

Winter shifted in place with an almost giddy expression, and looking up at you, you could tell he had wanted this for quite some time.

You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about it prior to today.

"I would much appreciate that."

He said simply. So making sure not to waste any more of your time, you bent down to Winter's height. Despite being in your smaller form, you were still quite a bit taller than anyone else.

You caught his lips in yours, holding the embrace for a few moments. His lips felt cold, and it was all you could have hoped for.

When you separated, you gently held his face in your clawed hands.

"I have truly cherished this time with you, and I wish I could have stayed longer. However, my higher duties must not be ignored."

Winter nodded in understanding, placing his small hand atop yours.

"I promise I will think of you often, and will call on you if I'm ever passing through this side of your galaxy. That I will swear." "But until then, my dear."

The only thing Winter could remember of that moment, was the feeling of your lips in his forehead, and the silhouette of your ethereal form, fading out of the atmosphere.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

your complimentary art ^^ (gumlee edition!!)

Sorry bout the whole hiatus thing, I had been sobbing for two hours straight. Anyway, rq's are open!

reblogs >>> likes

#winter king x reader #the winter king #winter king #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #gumlee fanart #fanart #fandom #fanfic #selfshipping community #winter king x female reader #winter king x male reader #winter king x gn reader #winter king x oc #he's so babygirl #adventure time #adventure time x reader

253 notes · View notes

mjolnirswriststrap · 6 months

Text

Executioner | Renaissance AU

Summary: Natasha is the king’s executioner. What plot? Just smut.

Natasha x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Read at your own risk, panties definitely came off in this one, beheadings.

Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have been in that tavern after curfew. Some of the local women whispered about meeting to discuss steps to improve living conditions in your village. You thought it was worth trying. The king had no intentions on helping the starving women and children. The draft had taken every able bodied man, leaving your people devastated. None of you expected the kings men to burst in. You wouldn’t have gone if you knew what you’d be charged with.

You can’t see anything as burlap sack was roughly crammed onto your head. Desensitization wasn’t a new tactic, pigs for slaughter were treated this way. If you can’t see how close death is, you’re less likely to freak out. You stood there shackled to a girl on both sides of you, shaking in fear, using your last moments to pray. If you tilted your head just right you could see out of the bottom of the sack. A pool of red creeps towards your toes, and you hear the swing of a blade yet again. The only thing louder at the moment is the scream of the girl ahead of you, she knows she’s next. Your arm is jerked forward as the shackle is unlocked, separating you from the crying girl.

You close your eyes as you begin to pray, what king would do this to his people? You didn’t do anything wrong, the village only wants food and clothes for the winter. You knew why he didn’t favor your village; you didn’t export any goods. No crops, linen, or cattle were given to the castle. The women needed everything just to keep their children and elderly alive.

The blade makes contact with the wooden bench yet again, and you begin to shake. You won’t cry, you won’t let them have the satisfaction. They can take your life but they can’t have your soul. You had no reaction as the sack was pulled from your head. Your eyes squint to adjust to the sun. Standing in front of you is a tall man, so broad he shields you from the crowd of onlookers. He starts fiddling with your shackle and you look around him, seeing that you’re on a high wooden platform in the middle of the capital. Hundreds of subjects crowded around, waiting for the next beheading.

You catch a glimpse of red hair behind the man, but he jerks you forward before you can get a better look. You pad forward, and the crowds chatter becomes clearer “treasonous bitch!” “Witch” “this will teach you!” ”long live King Stark!”. You couldn’t help but to laugh out loud. They really thought the king cared for them. They could be on this chopping block next, they’re too deluded to see it. You start giggling louder, and louder and it draws the attention of the red haired woman.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” You tilt your head to the side and see a short woman, black robes covering her, a large hood pulled halfway up. “I am being prosecuted for being a woman. This is already harder than it has to be.”. How sick, the king making a woman execute other women. You looked into her eyes, knowing they’d be the last thing you ever saw. She was beautiful beyond measure, fair skin, full lips and large green eyes stared back at you. The woman is frozen in place, never having had a stand off with a person she was about to execute. You lean down, the blood of the innocent girl tickled your cheek. Closing your eyes you inhale the scent of rust and mud. Taking a deep breath you wait for your execution, unwavering.

It never comes, a loud explosion shakes town square. You’re thrown from the chopping block, landing on the hard dirt. Screams erupt and you feel feet trample over you. A large man steps right on the hand balancing you, causing you to scream out in pain. You coddle your sore fingers like a cat licking its wounds. You crawl under the wooden structure used as a stage. Hiding from the crowd who were willingly going to chop your head off moments earlier. You look up between the cracks and see the red head woman scanning the crowd, searching for you. “Tell the kings guard she’s gone. The explosion gave her cover for escape.” She whispers to a man in all metal armor.

The crowd has finally dispersed and all you can hear is the dripping of blood, the woman’s deep sighs as she paces the platform above you. You’re too scared to make a sound, knowing your cover could be blown at any moment. You feel a tickle at the edge of your hairline, you quickly swipe at what’s bothering you. A spider crawls up your hand causing you to wince, shaking it off. Your eyes dart upward, in hopes she didn’t notice. Except you can’t see her anywhere between the cracks. You lean forward to get a better advantage point and still, the platform is void of any person. Sitting back down on your feet you take a deep breath, maybe you’re finally in the clear.

A blade is pressed to your neck before you can exhale. A hand snakes its way around your waist, traveling upward along your front, securing your arm and neck in a tight lock. “Thought you could escape?” She breathes in your ear. Your heartbeat fastens, “Please, you don’t understand, I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.” You plead as she tightens her grip on you. “That’s what they all say. But not everyone was found gathered under a full moon, whispering about a kings downfall.” You furrow your brow, full moon? You’d never gathered with anyone under a full moon, you were no witch.

She pushes you forward, your face hitting the ground, billowing up a cloud of dirt. “You’re mistaken miss, we met to discuss rations, create a plan on how to survive the winter, I would never knowingly gather under a full moon.” You wiggle as she straddles your ass, pushing against her as she shackles your hands behind your back. “I thought I was being executed for conspiracy not witchcraft.” You writhe more underneath her, grasping her wrist, you hold her there as you plead for her mercy. “Please, I am not what you think. I’ll go far away, you’ll never see or hear of me again. I’ll never return. I swear it upon the Lord.”

The woman stares at her wrist in your hand. Your words completely muffled to her. She looks at your rode up gown, lace garters around each of your legs. She pulls herself away, kneeling beside you. You start shaking in fear of what is to come next. She places a hand on the back of your thigh, slowly feeling her way to between your legs. “If you want me to let you go free, you’re going to have to earn it, witch.” The woman laughs to herself. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what she means. “What do you want from me?” You cry out. The woman flips you over onto your back, she leans down looking you right in the eye.

“Make it worth my while, and I’ll escort you to the city limits myself.” She smirked on top of you. You look into her eyes, she was too beautiful to be this wicked. Something happened to make her this way, you’d never know. Your survival instincts kicked in before you could protest. Pressing your lips to hers you eagerly run your tongue against her bottom lip. She takes the opportunity to feel your breast, massaging them behind thick dress linen. You pull away as a strange feeling builds inside of you, you’d never been with a woman so you didn’t think you’d get anything out of this. But the feeling of her hands on you, ignited a flame deep inside, causing a throb to wreck your clit.

“You like that?” She asks with hooded eyes, pinching your nipples in the process. You sharply gasp, the feeling of wetness pooling between your thighs. Your back arches off the ground as she slips her hand under your dress, the feeling of her hand on your bare skin, burning. She feels her way up to your right nipple, pinching it unbearably hard, you yelp. “Answer me, witch.” She says. “Yes, ms?”

“Natasha, not that it matters.”.

Natasha lifts herself to her knees, looking down at you, your dress pulled up, thrown over your shoulder as your chest is exposed. “So pathetic, begging to run away like that. So small underneath this thick fabric,” she places a finger on your navel, drawing a line down, running it between the folds surrounding your clit; stopping when the tip of her finger slips inside of you. “So wet, and I’ve barely touched you”.

You bite your lip so hard you taste blood, you couldn’t help it as she gently stroked her finger in and out of you. You raise your hips off the ground practically begging for more, “Please Natasha, I’ll do anything, just uncuff me.”. The red head throws her head back laughing while she adds another digit, going deeper than before “I don’t need to do that to get what I want.” You press your head into the ground as you adjust to her thick fingers, the burning stretch and the slow pace causing your legs to shake, a wet soothing feeling stopped the shaking as soon as it began, you looked down to see Natasha staring up at you, her tongue moving in slow circles around your clit. “Don’t stop.” You plead.

As if she was getting off on torturing you, she stopped instantly, pulling her hand from you. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea,” Natasha says, pulling her black robe over her head. “This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for mine.” She says, freeing the ties around her waist. Her undercoat falls down, exposing a hairless pussy. She throws one leg over your waist, diagonally straddling you. “I had to make you want it, no one wants to ride a sleeping bull.”. She spreads her lips, pressing herself into you, the feeling completely foreign, everything she’d done up till now, a man already had the privilege of doing before.

Natasha rolls her hips, perfectly gliding against your clit. It felt like a warm kiss, wet and desperate. You whine, wishing you could touch her, hold onto something for leverage. You couldn’t move as she fucked you, you’re completely helpless besides being able to wrap a leg around her waist. It did nothing to move you, it only made her grind harder against you.

A strangled moan leaves your lips as she starts rocking against you with a new pace, it was gonna make you cum if she kept going. A rubber band inside of you was being stretched past its limit and was about to snap back. At this point you thought, she has to be reading your mind. She slowed down, throwing her head back as she barely lifted herself, just to slam herself back down. She did this over and over again till you were sore, you needed release.

Natasha wasn’t thinking about your release as she crawled up your body, sitting on your chest. “If you make me feel real, real good. I’ll even get you to the next town, deal?” You nod your head before thinking. She quickly grabs a handful of your hair, “What did I say? Speak when spoken to, witch.” “Deal.”

She strokes your face, admiring your features before she makes a mess of them. Soft eyes search hers for answers, but nothing would prepare you for how gentle she was. Natasha lifted her hips, ghosting her center past your lips, causing you to crane your neck to reach for her. She was practically dripping into your mouth as you reached your tongue to take a practice swipe. She was so soft, like rose petals that tasted like ‘more’; you wanted more.

You tilt your chin forward latching your lips around her core, creating a suction while your rolled her clit around the tip of your tongue. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.” Natasha praises you from above. She miraculously keeps herself still, not abusing your face like she did your bottom half. You liked the way she sounded, light and raspy, searching for a breath. It kept you going while you explored her every inch. You lapped up wetness as it dripped from her hole, rimming the hole with the tip of your tongue.

Her body reacted the best to your flat tongue, licking long thick stripes over her clit. It made Natasha jerk her body forward, causing your nose to stimulate her even more. “You’re doing so good baby, just a little longer.” You couldn’t help but use the praise as fuel to keep going. The sight of Natasha writhing in pleasure makes you needy. You feverishly rub her clit as you breathe hot breath onto her.

Natasha grips your hair as she finally takes hold of the situation, she grinds her hips down, fully pressing herself on your tongue. You can’t keep up as she tries to climax. Her hips going at a pace your jaw isn’t accustomed to. You close your eyes as you feel her jerk forward, slowing herself down, she writhes on your face.

You gasp for air as she stands, throwing her robe back over her head. You lift yourself to your knees, letting gravity pull your dress down. You do nothing but await your release from the chains that bind you. You did what she asked, you just wanted to be freed, you needed no escort to the edge of town or the next village. “Please, uncuff me now, Natasha?” She gave you a pitiful look as she tied the straps to her undergarments.

“Oh honey, did you really think I was gonna let you go free?” She walked towards you, bending over to match your eye line. “You’re dead as far as the king knows, a crowd never lets a criminal get away. You just got lucky with the explosion.” Confusion clouded your brain, what was she going to do, if not turn you in? “What?” You say, knowing whatever she had in mind was better than execution.

“You’re coming home with me, witch.”

#avengers fanfiction #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #nat x reader #mcu #natasha romanov #natalia romanova #natasha x you #black widow #avengers #x reader #black widow x reader #renaissance au #executioner #natasha romanoff is a lesbian

72 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 3 months

Text

Politics | Boromir x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Would you write prompt #4 why can’t we be together? And #38 nobody can ever take me away from you For Boromir with GN reader? If this doesn’t spark anything for you that is ok too! Thank you 🙏 - @spngingerbread21 ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Boromir have been together for a while, but there's only one thing stopping you from being together properly.

: ̗̀➛ N/A

↳ @arthurmorgansballsack

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The sprawling hills were enough to know that you were home. The village beside the valleys, so thick and so bursting with life that it was a surprise that they were still luscious and green; with the wild grasses mixing of their winter yellow paint and their springtime soft green, the wind seemed to sing amongst the gentle breeze.

For years, your forefathers and their forefathers had stood upon those hills; for years, their hearts had belonged to the country and to its sprawling hills. You were no different. The deep and lively valleys meant home, they always would; the hills tall and stoic as they watched over what the mountains were too tall to see.

From the smallest of emerald green beetles with little red triangles on their backs, all the way through to the largest stag with great antlers and dark brown coats. The hills saw everything the mountains could not, forever keeping an eye on the country as the home passed from generation to generation.

There had always been tales of those valleys and mountains and hills; once a great king had ruled over them with the hearts of his people and nothing more in mind.

He was said to be fair and just; a great political leader, but an even greater friend to the prophet and magician that he called a best friend, a brother, and to the knights that he treated as his own kin. He was said to be a great king, forever fighting for his people with a sword that had been blessed and linked to his bloodline until the end of days; but they were just tales and nothing more.

The dreams of a people who resided there.

But there were more; for years you had been told that if you were to ever go into those mountains, you would have to sing in the old language, the ancient language that everybody knew, so as not to wake the dragon that slept within them.

The dragon was a kind, fair beast who fought for his people and loved them dearly; if they should ever need help, he would always rise to the occasion and protect them with every ounce of his mighty strength. Bright red in colour, he was old and ancient, but powerful; having fought off a white dragon that threatened to steal the land and to rule its people with an iron fist, the red dragon was tired, and needed to sleep to reserve his strength.

Ever since you were a child, you always sang when you visited the mountains; even now, well into your adulthood, you still sang every time. Even old stories, you had learned, had some truth to them. Maybe too much.

Everybody sang in the mountains, though, always in the old and ancient language; even at home and during sports matches and times of togetherness, everybody sang. Sometimes in large choirs that made the songs seem so ethereal and unreal; other times just when they were sweeping and cooking on their own.

But as your hand rested upon the hilt of your sword, you couldn't help but to smile. A bright red blade, it had been in your family for so long that no one remembered how it had come to be in the first place; it glowed with the colours of fire when you wielded it, but even the elves with their bountiless knowledge did not understand it.

It was ancient, they had said, going back even further than their own time. You watched with great curiosity as a horse galloped up the hills, panting heavily as its rider waved with one hand; you smiled even more, taking your hand from the sword so that you could wave back.

Boromir.

He pulled his horse to a stop when he was close enough, dismounting and smiling at you brightly, causing his eyes to squint.

"Your Grace," he hummed, earning a playful smack to his shoulder.

"Who sent you?" You asked, raising a brow. "I know it wasn't your father."

"No," he admitted with a shake of his head. "Faramir did."

"No, he didn't," you bit back a laugh as you tilted your head to the side. "Who sent you?"

"Alright, alright," he breathed out, doing his best not to laugh. "My father sent me on patrol, and we were in the area. So I asked around if anyone had seen you."

"Good," you smiled at last, licking your lips. "You interrupted my patrol, so you can come with me."

Boromir nodded, falling into step beside you as he resisted every urge not to lace his fingers with yours. It was too risky, if any of his men saw him then they would surely tell his father.

He might have been his own man, and the golden boy of his family, but that wouldn't stop his father from using his political positions to demand that Boromir stay away from you.

"I don't understand it," he sighed. "Why can't we be together?"

You glared at him from the corner of your eye. "Your father would never allow it. We're not politically important enough for you to be caught with me in any compromising positions."

"But your family is older than mine," he pointed out. "You have good history and alliances with the elves."

You shrugged, your hand wandering to the wooden spoon you had in your back pocket, protected by your dark grey cloak. "We do, but you know how Denethor feels... he's a powerful man, but he's also embittered and full of despair."

Boromir frowned, taking a look around before gently linking his fingers with yours and giving your hand a little swing. "When I am the steward of Gondor, you'll be there with me."

You raised a brow as you laughed softly. "And what makes you think I'd leave my home?"

"We could share," he started, "spend half of our time here, the other half in Gondor."

"It's a good dream," you told him softly. "But dreams lie."

"I had a dream once," he mused. "You were a great monarch - beloved and fair. Just and kind. That sword of yours was the fear of every orc and troll and goblin in the land. You woke up that dragon in the mountains, and it served with you."

"It's just a dream," you said with a soft laugh. "Little more... besides, you're the one who's going to be a great political leader - not me. You inspire people, Boromir, and you have the right heart for it."

"But I'd want you there with me," he admitted. "Nobody can ever take me away from you. Not even politics."

You smiled as you paused, leaning into him slightly. "Look, over there."

He looked where you pointed, smiling a little at what he saw; amongst the grey skies were two birds.

Hawks.

Flying together as they hunted, the phantoms of the forests with their dark brownish grey backs, their stomachs littered with dark tipped feathers against a large white background; their golden eyes keened in on the nearest little vole or mouse as they swooped down with great yellow legs tipped with long and sharp charcoal claws. They made not a single sound.

Boromir always loved to see them, and looked forward to it every time he visited you; there was something so fascinating about watching them easily glide through the skies before swooping down like an arrow from a bow. He smiled, leaning into you.

"Do you remember when we went onto the mountain path?" He whispered. "I got caught on a fragile rock, and you swooped down and grabbed me... just like the phantoms."

"I still think about it," you admitted with a soft laugh. "You were so scared."

"And you just kept singing," he laughed softly. "I'll never forget it, you always sang when you're in the mountains."

"I don't wish to waken something," you hummed. "Come on, I know where there's some ripe berries - we can sit for a while and talk properly."

"I'd like that," Boromir admitted with a smile. "Lead the way."

"I also have something to give you," you confessed as you gently tugged at his hand. "It's nothing big, but promise me you'll look after it."

"Of course," he agreed without hesitation. "If I can, I will always keep it with me."

"Good," you nodded. "I spent a long time on it... and I hope you like it."

You couldn't help it, reaching into your back pocket to fumble with the spoon again to make sure that it was hidden; you had spent countless hours on it, carving the phantoms of the forest into the wooden handle as best as you could and chipping away at the spoon just to make sure that it mimicked the pattern of their feathers properly. You chewed at the inside of your lip.

You really hoped that he would like it.

"While we walk," Boromir looked at you with a slight smile. "Would you sing?"

"Why?" You asked with a soft laugh. "You're not scared of dragons, are you?"

"No!" He huffed. "But I do like to hear your voice."

36 notes · View notes

erina-writes-headcanons · 2 years

Text

Akashi Seijūrō, Hanamiya Makoto, Nash Gold Jr, and Nijimura Shūzō with S/O Visiting Them and The Team Didn't Know About It.

This is the second part of the KnB Captains with S/O who are visiting them and The Team didn't know about it until they are coming to give them a visit. I hope you like it @pillow-anime-infos!

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities and misogynistic/misandry slurs.

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Akashi Seijūrō

In my opinion, Rakuzan players and basketball players know that Akashi probably already have a girlfriend/boyfriend as Reo would get jealous of whoever it is since he has a crush on him.

Afterall, Akaashi is charming, charismatic, smart, good looking and gentleman so many people have a crush on him either they are female or male students.

The team are surprised that is you who are dating Akashi, especially Reo who would get jealous of you (but I believe he is respectful so he wouldn't try to steal him away from you and he doesn't want to treat you badly).

Mayuzumi might respect your space, not trying to come up to you and harass you with many questions because I believe he knows what it feels like and how uncomfortable it gets when you get surrounded or he just doesn't care about you.

He secretly feels a little bit scared and worried about you, he knows the 'Boku-shi' of Akashi aren't only intimidating and smart, Boku-shi Akashi can destroy whoever stands in his way and are very tyrannical.

But Hayama and Nebuya would not think twice before coming up to you and surrounding you before they introduced themselves and questioned your relationship with Akashi.

Unlike Moriyama, the two of them are just genuinely curious and want to be your friend. They want to know how Akashi treats you, especially Hayama.

Akashi might let you interact with them but he would be a little bit overprotective when you start feeling a little bit uncomfortable once Hayama and Nebuya getting too friendly and notices Reo's jealous glare at you.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The regimen of Rakuzan's basketball training isn't only hard but also brutal but those are the reason why Rakuzan has won three winter cups, making the school one of the strongest kings. All of the Rakuzan basketball players in the gym were training hard for the upcoming next winter cup.

From far away, the captain of Rakuzan players could be seen as he was watching all of the team members playing styles, especially the uncrowned kings. Hayama Kotarō the small forward, Nebuya Eikichi the center, and Reo Mibuchi the shooting guard even though there is one more player with Kuroko's play style, Chihiro Mayuzumi.

After a long observation among the Rakuzan players, Akashi had an idea for the basketball training to increase all of the team member's skills so they wouldn't lose later in the tournament. Upon observing, his ears picking up sounds of footsteps getting closer and the door opening.

A tall man with black swept-back hair with a gray stripe on each side and wrinkle on the sides of his lips came up with some file papers in his arms before pulling out a whistle and blowing it out as all of the Rakuzan team members stops their practice and glancing up to pay attention to their coach.

"Everyone, I would like to have all of your attention. I have quick news for everyone to hear," Coach Shirogane spoke.

"What is it Sensei?" Akashi trudges to the old man slowly, wondering what kind of news.

"Since we are getting more players, we have more than just one manager other than Higuchi-san. The new manager has not come yet but she/he/they will come soon after their/her/his club activity. Akashi-san, I would also like you to show the new manager around" Coach Shirogane asked a favor.

"Very well, I would show the new manager around," Akashi takes the responsibility from coach Shirogane.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Sooner or later, another doorstep and a knock on the door could be heard and the coach of Rakuzan gently pulls the door open before moving aside to let the person gets inside. All eyes were on you, including Akashi who are quite surprised by your sudden appearance. The coach didn't tell him that the new manager he was talking about is you.

A pair of (E/C) eye colors takes a glance at everybody inside the gym before your eyes meet with Akashi's heterochromatic eyes and put a little smile as a greeting but in a subtle way, so it wouldn't catch the other player's attention and starts questioning the two of you. You prefer not getting swarmed by the Rakuzan players.

The sound of a whistle can be heard before it catches everyone's attention and you can feel yourself slightly shrinking in fear because everyone's attention is on you.

"Attention everyone. This is your new manager, their/her/his name is (Y/N) (L/N). She/he/they are going to handle the upcoming trains along with Higuchi-san as well as preparing drinks for everyone and other necessities. (L/N)-san, I would like you to introduce yourself to everyone," Coach Shirogane explained.

"Hello everyone. my name is (Y/N) (L/N) and I will be the upcoming manager of this team. I am also the first year and I'm looking to spend my time with everyone in here, please take care of me," You bow down, showing respect to everyone and being polite.

"Everyone is dismissed."

One by one all of the Rakuzan players left you alone but they stopped as you came up to Akashi with a plastic bag in your hand and gave it to your boyfriend," I made a bento for you. Don't forget to eat when you have a break," you smiled.

"Thank you for making these, (Y/N)-chan/kun," Akashi gently pat the crown of your head, surprising everyone in the team.

A chorus of 'EEEHH?!' and 'WHAT?!?!' could be heard from Hayama and Nebuya's mouths along with Reo Mibuchi and Mayuzumi's widened eyes as the two of them stared at you and Akashi with surprise.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

Hanamiya Makoto

I am going to ask you. How to be brave and daring like you? seriously. Dating Hanamiya is one thing but getting inside of SPIDER ENCLOSURE?!?! You are asking for death.

Either you can handle everyone even those who are as bad as Hanamiya or you don't know what you just got into and are surprised as hell when you see the way how the team plays against the rival.

Even though his teammates are not as bad as Hanamiya but they still can be dangerous since almost all of them aren't afraid to injure their opponent so you have to be careful.

As you visit your boyfriend Hanamiya, most of the teammates don't really react but it was either because they don't really care that you just came to visit Hanamiya.

Expect Hara, the player who had a fringe that covered his whole eyes and often chewed bubblegum. Once his eyes laid on you, he was curious about your identity and your relationship with Hanamiya.

He doesn't speak too much but he would in fact act a little bit creepily but not in a perverted way. He would just come up to your face and inspect you from up to down before he teases you (either teasing about your hair, height, eye color, etc.)

Seto wouldn't come up to you and acting creepy like Hara did but when he opens his eyes (done with his slumber) and looks at you, he doesn't hesitate to look up at you up and down but unlike Hara, he's doing it in a perverted way.

As the rest of the team such as Yamazaki, Furushiro and Matsumoto wouldn't really care but they do get a little bit curious because they knew no one has the ability to handle Hanamiya's sadism and mean treatment.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

It was in the afternoon and almost all the students either went home or joined the club activity and you were preparing lots of boxes as well before inserting some foods. You didn't really want to be the manager of the basketball team but you remember clearly the words that 'he' said to you, more like a threat since he kind of an asshole and often annoys you on purpose just for shit and giggles.

Each lunch box contained Rice with Japchae on the sides but it was not only those two, there were braised beef short ribs, cut fruits, and a small bar of chocolate. It wasn't really fancy food but it was better than nothing as well as adding more chocolate for your boyfriend since he is a dark chocolate lover.

After trying the plastic bag with the drink, you look at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened before grabbing all of the tied plastic bags, backpack, and a note before rushing out from your house and going back to school by a bicycle since it's faster rather than walking by feet where it takes twenty minutes whereas cycling only needs ten minutes.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

You finally arrive in front of the building before parking out your bicycle and taking all of the plastic bags carefully from the basket without dropping all of them, 'You better not get pissed off and get all cranky or I will throw these lunches at your face' (Y/N) silently cursing at their/her/his boyfriend.

Since both of your hands were occupied by the plastic bags and the backpack, the door of the gym was slammed open by the force of your feet by kicking it open. The sound of the door slamming open catches the attention of all players in Kirisaki Daiichi, including your jerk boyfriend.

He has a pale ivory skintone, shoulder-length dead black hair that was parted with some locks, and greyish brown eyes and he is the captain of Kirisaki Daiichi. His eyes laid on you and his frown was replaced with a smile but it wasn't a genuine smile but rather his teasing and arrogant grin that he shows around his rival.

"Hey baby, why are you here~" he innocently asks, acting as if he didn't pull the yesterday stunt.

"DON'T HEY BABE ME, CATERPILLAR EYEBROWS! YOU LITERALLY FORCED ME TO BE THE BASKETBALL TEAM MANAGER AND TOLD ME TO MAKE BENTO FOR EVERYONE!" You shouted.

"I did? Oh, I didn't know that? What proof do you have that I forced you to be the team's manager?" He continues teasing you and acting coy.

Snarling at his stupid and annoying antics, you finally use the last enforcement to shut Hanamiya up "Continue teasing me and I will remove the chocolate bar in your lunch box. Also, I won't give you the drink that you forgot at your home and I will throw the towel away," you threatened the captain of Kirisaki Daiichi.

The threat not only made Hanamiya smirk replaced with an annoyed frown but also made everyone freeze in fear except the player who keeps popping the bubblegum and chewing it before he spits it out on a piece of paper and threw it to the nearest bin. "Fine, but you would regret it after threatening me. Now I need you to introduce yourself to everyone in here or else," he said.

"...The name's (Y/N) (L/N) and I will be your manager. I am also Hanamiya's girlfriend/boyfriend," Your eyes met with the rest players, not really scared of them even though they are notorious players for harming their rivals.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

Nash Gold Jr.

If Kirisaki Daiichi is a Spider enclosure, JABBERWOCKY IN FACT A WOLF DEN. I'M ASKING HOW ARE YOU NOT SCARED OF THE PLAYERS OF JABBERWOCKY.

Don't take them lightly, ever. Even though Nash Gold is your boyfriend and he could protect you from the other players, the team can be very brutal.

If you have read the Manga (or seen the Jabberwocky episode page) or seen the scene Nash kicked Kuroko, almost all of the Jabberwocky players are not afraid to harass women (sexually) and men (physically).

Even though Nash is an asshole, you need to be always around him when you are with the team and don't go alone (If you are a woman because in the manga Silver was forcing himself on the woman) or just stay away from them (if you are a male because they won't interact with you).

The team might be all curious when they saw you for the first time and they may act like all buddies to each other but I believe they don't enjoy is someone tries to get inside of their circle and befriend all of them so please stay away from them.

Let Nash introduce you and makes you get closer to the team because I believe all of his teammates only listen to him and no one else.

Silver might be trying to get close to you if you are a woman or good looking but believe me. He is only trying to get inside your pants and screw you so make some space.

The team might too but it's not as obvious as Silver because The team is scared of Nash more than Silver. Yes, Silver is scared of Nash but I believe Silver is Closer to Nash so there are lots of times Jason Silver did act like an Asshole to Nash Gold and Nash let him be since they both are close.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

A pair of (E/C) eye color staring back at you with a frown etched on their face instead of a beautiful smile. The person in the reflection of the mirror is wearing a nice golden sequin mini dress or a red leather zipper jacket with a white t-shirt underneath it and a pair of ripped jeans.

Even though the clothes that they wore were really nice, (Y/N) (L/N) wasn't happy at all. Instead, they/he/she was scared to meet his boyfriend's teammates. You watched their play with the team of Strsky in Japan and the way they teased the rival of the team wasn't only mean but it was just so disgusting and low.

"(Y/N)!! HURRY UP! ARE YOU DONE CHANGING?!" The golden blonde basketball player yells from outside of the house.

"COMING!!!" You called back, quickly taking the small handbag on the table and getting outside of the house before going inside his car and going to the club together. Nash wanted you to meet everyone on his team while you don't want to meet them all. Their play reminded you that all of them aren't really nice people to hang around with.

You know you're not suppose judging people from the cover and you have done bad things in your life but you never go as far as hurting other people out of arrogance and just for fun. You could be violent at times but it's just to defend yourself from some assholes that try to harm you and your friends.

The car arrives near the club and there is loud music from inside the building. There are sounds of people laughing from inside and chatting, 'Okay...this might be not really bad...I hope' you silently pray and open the car door before stepping outside of the car and slamming the door of the car close. Preparing your mentality by taking a deep breath and walking beside Nash.

Nash pushes the door away, letting you get inside first and this sweet yet small action from him makes you couldn't help but smile a little bit, "Thanks babe" you gently peck his cheeks.

"No problem babe. Now let's sit on the seat that I already booked," he gently places his hands around your waist before he drags you to the VIP lounge of the club on the rooftop. You were surprised that Nash can book a VIP seat since it's usually expensive.

Once you were dragged to the VIP lounge of the club, the glass door was pushed away and showed all of the Jabberwocky players and you recognize all of them. They were laughing with each other and it seems like they were just bunch of teenagers but you knew better that these guys can be dangerous.

The tallest player in Jabberwocky with piercings on his ears and lower lip, silver hair, and dark skin notices you standing next to Nash Gold and the corner of his lips tugged upwards in a condescending grin just like the way when he was making fun of Vorpal Sword team and your gut feeling telling you that he is going to make fun of you.

"YO NASH! WHO'S NEXT TO YOU? IS THAT YOUR WHORE/GIGOLO!?!?" Silver shouted, earning laughter from the team but it immediately stopped when they see the cold glare from Nash's eyes.

"Don't call my girlfriend/boyfriend by those disgusting names, Silver...remember what happened that night...." Even though Nash spoke it in a calm tone, you knew Nash is pissed off and he never bluffs when he makes a threat. When those words are spoken out, Silver immediately shut his mouth.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

Nijimura Shūzō

Nijimura is the Captain of Teiko School and Generation miracles too where they were still in the first years. Because of this, many people respect him a lot.

As Nijimura's S/O, you catch lots of eyes looking and staring at you with curiosity and awe. Girls are jealous of you and Guys jealous because their captain had someone dating him whereas they are still single.

Even though many team members respect you and Nijimura. There is one person who harasses you sometimes and stops when Nijimura is around since Nijimura can kick his ass.

If you guess it was Haizaki, you are one million percent correct about that one. If you are female or nonbinary but with feminine traits, Haizaki would nonstop touching you and flirt with you.

If you are he/him or nonbinary with masculine traits. He would force you to give him your lunch money and if you didn't give it to him, he would most likely beat you up.

Of course, Nijimura would protect you away from Haizaki and sometimes he even would ask GOM or his friends to look out for you and immediately tell him if Haizaki trying to approach you.

Everyone on the team except Haizaki is surprisingly friendly around you, especially Momoi who would be happy to be your friend and tries to drag you out to hang out with you along with Aomine too.

Don't forget Kuroko too. He might be shy the first time when he was interacting with you but he was really nice because I can see he would also love to hang out with you (and yes Nijimura would trust you more with Kuroko and Momoi).

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The school was hectic, especially club activity where lots of first strings of Basketball players are training for the upcoming basketball tournament. Everyone was sweating, including the captain of First Strings, he has short black hair with his bangs parted to the left and a pair of light grey eyes, Nijimura Shūzō.

"SCREEN YOUR OPPONENTS AND DON'T LET THE RIVAL GET AWAY!" He commanded the team members, teaching some players how to do the screening along with the Generation of Miracles as his hands takes one of the balls and passed it to the other players.

The team follows their captain instruction where the seniors are trying to do the screening their junior although they had a difficulty since the Generation of Miracles are far stronger than the others and it causes the other team getting tired easily, including Nijimura who also gotten tired from all of the practice that they held for along time ago.

Seeing this, Momoi had an idea before she rushes outside of the gym to search for a certain someone with (H/C) Hair color, (E/C) eye color, and (S/C) skin color to help her with taking care of all the basketball teams. The girl saw (Y/N) from far away and she runs up to her (Y/N)-chan/-kun!! I need your help with something!!" She said.

"Oh hey, Momoi-san. What do you need help with?" You ask the pink-haired basketball manager.

"It's the team member. Could you help me go to the cafeteria and bring all of the water bottles?"

"..Sure, I'll help you" You walked alongside the pink-haired manager.

As the two of you arrive inside the cafeteria, the old lady kindly gave all of the team drinking water before she carefully hands the plastic bags to you and Momoi "Don't push yourself too hard Momoi-san and (L/N)-san. Also, please leave a message for the coach and the captain that I say Hi." The old woman smiles kindly.

"We will! Thank you so much Mrs. Yuiga-san," Momoi bowed down to the elderly woman as well as you too.

The two of you quickly hurried together to the gym together with you running along on her sides as long as you carefully held the plastic without dropping any drinks inside of it. Arriving at the gym, Momoi pushes the door open and many eyes immediately catch a new figure that they have never seen before.

Nijimura saw you from far away and his frown was gone. Instead, it was replaced with a little smile and his hands waved at you, making the other team members look at him with confusion as if he knows the stranger.

You couldn't help and smile before you place the plastic away before you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him and feeling the warm sensation around your waist. Nijimura hugs you back affectionately and forgets that there are lots of people inside the gym," Hey babe, Me and Momoi brought everyone a drink. You're on your break, right? Everyone can take one bottle."

Heating the word 'Babe' escape from your mouth, everyone's eyes widened and some of the team members were looking at you and Nijimura with a gaze that clearly shows that they were surprised that their scary captain has a sweet nice S/O.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

681 notes · View notes

maristocratie · 1 year

Text

Some of my PJO/HOO + Magnus Chase headcanons

I apologize in advance for the spelling mistakes, English is not my mother tongue, I will try to do my best !

Enjoy the reading :)

Camp :

There is a winter version of the camp t-shirts for the kids who stay all year long which is an orange fleece, it is not possible that these kids are all year long in t-shirt + this fleece is a big oversized grandpa fleece

Percy :

Percy has a collection of ugly T-shirts from the gift shops of the small towns they passed through during all their quests

Annabeth :

Annabeth has a completely collapsible mug that she can slip into her bag when she goes to work for hours at the University Library in New Rome on her architectural projects. She has several of them in different colors for different drinks and she never puts tea in the coffee cup etc... because the cup takes on the taste and smell of a drink and when you drink another drink in that cup it tastes like the usual drink (it’s so specific sorry)

same when she makes a tea or coffee in their uni apartment she has a cup for each drink

Nico :

Nico has NO accent when he speaks English

Luke :

When Luke was younger he was certainly one of the oldest at camp and was like a big brother to many campers in addition to Annabeth

It happened very often that he read/tell stories to the little ones, put bandages during the trainings if the injuries did not require going to the infirmary and that he animated a lot of workshops as the one of the beads painting

He also animated the campfire in the evening and the singalongs but that was before he became a big jerk (to stay polite)

In Chiron's office there is still a box with the things Luke didn't take with him when he betrayed the camp that should have been returned to May but it was never done

Thalia :

Thalia has big feet I can’t explain why

She told Luke about Jason and he promised her that they would find him one day

She was extremely blonde when she was little

Jason :

Jason somehow knows how to play the piano.

He´s well versed in history and art history and knows a lot of random facts

At some point he has discovered contact lenses and wears them regularly when he’s doing physical activities

When he and his sister are side by side they look much more alike physically than one might think at first glance, they have the same facial expressions

Jason has small freckles on his face and shoulders that stand out in the summer even though you can see them in the winter when you are close to his face

Leo:

Leo can for sure play the drums

Frank :

Frank didn't become super thin or anything when he grew up, he stayed sturdy from the shoulders, which goes with his morphology

Will :

Will wears crocs or similar in the infirmary because he has to stand all day and can't afford to have sore feet + when he's not in the infirmary I think he wears Birkenstocks because they are more comfortable than the flip flops he wears in the books. Will = comfort shoes king

Very often during his night shift will wears the famous fleece because he’s rather cold and he wants to feel comfortable after a long day

He knows a lot about botany thanks to the medicinal plants but also because he has many plants in his bungalow and he has even placed some in a corner of the infirmary

He even has several books on plants that he reads during his breaks, big books that are a bit old and with lots of diagrams and illustrations

He has a helix piercing on his right ear and it's a gold ring

Piper :

Piper has a lot of ear piercings and she has a lot of cool jewelry. She is often asked where she found them. A big part of them are made partly by herself

Travis & Connor :

The stoll brothers are tall and skinny like not muscular just extra skinny legends. Connor is taller than Travis even though Travis is older

Connor has really curly hair while Travis' is more wavy

Magnus :

Magnus is so left-handed that he barely uses his right hand

It's canon that he's tall but I consider him taller than Jason and therefore Percy. He must be a good 6'1" minimum

He smells like head&shoulders and neutrogena intense hydration comfort balm Norwegian formula (very precise almost too precise)

not really an headcanon but I think we forget too quickly and too often that Magnus is extremely intelligent because of his looks and his natural embarrassment. And it infuriates me that he is taken for a fool.

Also, we often forget that he is an excellent pickpocket and that he and the Stoll brothers would literally be a molotov cocktail if they joined forces...

Hope you liked it !

#headcanon #percy jackson #annabeth chase #luke castellan #thalia grace #jason grace #leo valdez #piper mclean #magnus chase #travis stoll #connor stoll #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo headcanon #hoo headcanon #frank zhang

251 notes · View notes

olympe-draws · 7 months

Text

HI I’m losing my mind, why does he have a set of clothing in Simon’s size ready to go??? Initially I thought the Winter King was a taller gayer version of our Simon but the old clothes implies he MADE himself taller??? He’s so gender and I’m fascinated. why is he so tall

#I’m experiencing gender envy. he’s like a drag persona version of simon.#fionna and cake #adventure time #Simon #simon petrikov #simon x winter king #winter #winter king

64 notes · View notes

tumblingdownthefoxden · 8 days

Text

"The Assistant and The Star"

Chapter 2: The Queen and King

Quiet as a mouse, a tall blond boy browses the grand pantry of the castle's kitchen with deviance on his mind. He knew he wasn't allowed to take snacks from the pantry. Dahlia had banned him from even entering the pantry after the night that he alone ate the pantry into needing a new shipment of food before the scheduled time. But he was in dire need for food after his short breakfast and work with his dad. His father made him leave home early to organize the Ceremony list. The boy named Dario didn't know why he had to get up early just to gather the names and picture of people he had to look out for when the ceremony was at sunset but his father insisted that "the early bird catches the worm" so they needed everything completed as soon as possible. And in his father's defense, it took quite a while to gather the name and portrait of anyone who had already given up a wish the previous year.

'But the second mouse gets the cheese' Dario thought as his arrival to the castle was soon after the breakfast rush. The kitchen was clean and stood vacant of any cooks that could stop him. Only other person there was Simon, snoozing at the bench against the wall after completing his 8 hour shift. He scanned the shelves holding baskets of fruit, jars of jams, boxes of cookies and bowls of bread for anything to soothe his cravings. He took a box of cookies from the shelf. A batch of Kingly cookies, shaped like the face of King Magnifico. He took 2 from the box but then had the temptation to take the whole box with him. Dario's cravings will act up again later, they always did. There were 5 more boxes of Kingly cookies and the king was a patient man, surely he wouldn't mind one missing box.

Before he left the pantry, there was a knock. Dario spun around to the ajar door of the pantry. No sign of anybody there. He sighed in relief, he couldn't let Dahlia see him. 5 more knocks (in the rhythm of "How to Build a Snowman" from Frozen) sounded. He looked and saw a hatch on the floor. He knelt down and knocked on the door as well. The knocking came back. He looked at the the handle and saw that the door was padlocked.

Dario hid the cookies in his shirt and went to look for a key. After every opened drawer, opened cabinet, there was no sign of a key. He considered waking up Simon to ask him if he knew of the key, when the three girls ran inside. "Hey guys, how are you?" Dahlia said before going into the pantry and pulling out a ring of keys. One swift move and the padlock was opened. Dahlia opened the hatch and emerged Asha. Dario jumped back at the sight of the black figure with an Ibex face but relaxed at the sight a little goat in their arms.

"Thanks Dahlia." Asha said, letting down Valentino. Dario grimaced, he never could get over that disguise. He ran away from Asha once when she first wore it to their outing during the Winter solstice festival. He was told off for it but could you blame him? If you saw La Muerte walking up to you, wouldn't run like a cat with a flaming branch tied to its tail?

"Hey Dario. How is everything?" Asha asked, taking off her cloak. Dario lifted his hands and signed, "I'm okay. What of you? No one followed you here?"

"No, not this time." She folded her cloak and placed it on the bench next to Simon, putting her mask on top of it. Bazeema walked over and sat down on the other side of Simon. "Should we wake him up now? We need a favor." She asked.

Dario snorted. "If you can wake him, be our guest." He signed. When Simon was napping after his shift, not even a trumpet could wake him up. He tried.

Bazeema leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Simon, Dahlia just made a fresh batch of cookies!" In a singsong tone. His snoring stopped and his eyes briefly opened. "Cookies?" He mumbled. Dario stared, mouth agap with how easy that was.

"No, she doesn't have cookies but we need to ask you something." Bazeema said, referring to her and Asha. "But first, I need to ask something." Dahlia budded in, intendly staring at a shelf in the pantry. "Has anyone seen a light blue box like the ones from the pantry? One of them is missing." The others were silent but Dahlia's eyes were on Dario and his bulging shirt. "Nobody happened to see a box of cookies from the shelf?"

"Maybe someone stole it overnight." Dario signed, glancing to his side. Dahlia left the pantry and walked up to him. "Oh, really? Because I checked the pantry this morning and saw all 6 boxes in place. No one other the cooks can even enter the kitchen during the Breakfast rush. You just so happened to be in the kitchen when I arrived and the only other person in here was asleep so where is the box?" Dahlia asked again.

Dario stood still, leaning back from her short but imposing stature. Dahlia still glared at him.

"Must be a mystery..." He signed with a shrug. Dahlia grumbled and held out her hand.

Sighing his defeat, Dario pulled out the cookies from under his shirt and handed it to her. She opened it to inspect how many were there. Only 2 were missing. "I swear Dario, you're going to make me loose my job one day!" Dahlia said, putting the cookies back. "I only took one box, would the King even notice?!" He signed. "The King might not care but the citizens at the festival will. I cannot get another avalanche of complaints because we ran out of Kingly cookies too soon." She explained. "At least, you didn't take the Queenly cookies. Then we really would've been in trouble."

There was only 1 rose gold box of the Queen shaped cookies next to the Kingly cookies but they were the most important. That box was for the royals themselves, and the King was critical about their condition. The last baker that ruined a batch of those cookies is currently in the dungeon. If Dario did eat from there, Dahlia would have to rush to make a new batch, but that would've been after she killed him.

"With that out of the way. Simon, could you help us take Asha home tonight please? Just before your shift?" Bazeema asked.

Simon rubbed his eyes. "Asha needs me to take her home? Is it that bad?"

"It will be so we could use your sword and shield."

"For the people or the woods? I can fight a person but a bear would be difficult. Are the bears active at night?" He asked, sitting up. "I'm not sure what to do about my nap before shift. I can't pass out on my rotation again."

"There's no pressure at all. If you still need to sleep, it's fine." Asha reassured, holding her hands out. "I-I can run home. I can handle myself."

"No no, it's alright." He said, standing up to stretch. "I would love to help you home. The mission will be good for me anyway. I can just take a nap sleep sooner and the travel will wake up."

Asha shifted on her feet. "Oh, thank you."

Hal bounced over to Asha's side. "Hey! Do you think it's possible to go to the festival for a few minutes. My cousins are performing a Kaolack dance in town square after the Ceremony. I would love for you to see it."

"Don't you think that's a little risky?" Questioned Dahlia.

"The crowd dies down after the Wish Ceremony and with the rest of us, we could keep an eye Asha and other people. She needs to have fun! She can't keep living like this!" Hal took Asha by her arms and turned her to face Dahlia. "You see her shoulders! The tension in her stand! Our lady is stressed! She has been working and running from antagonizers all week! Asha deserves some form of a treat from the festival!"

"Would you like that Asha?" Asked Bazeema, popping up behind them. The two girls jumped at her sudden appearance from Simon's side but Asha nodded. She would like to find something for her Saba in the market and since her employment, she couldn't enjoy the festivals like before. "Okay then, it's set!" Hal cheered.

"Oh, hey, could someone start a fire please? I should have time to make tea for the King." Said Asha. It was routine for her to bring tea to the King during festivals. It was a hard time for both of them but tea makes everything manageable. Simon opened a drawer and pulled out a box of matches that he handed to Dahlia. Once she lit the fire, the others went about preparing mint tea as Asha kept the fire going. 10 minutes later and Asha was squirting lemon into the porcelain tea cup from the King's tea set on a tray. "Okay, it's ready!" She chimed with a smile.

There was a knock at the door and Dario went to open it. One look at the visitor and Dario staggered back before bowing down. At the door, stood Queen Amaya in her rose gold gown. The others saw her and bowed as well. Asha rose her head. "Good morning, your majesty. I hope you're well. Wait. Am I late for the King?" She asked.

Amaya smiled warmly. "No, you're fine. I wanted walk around the castle and see who was here right now. Would you like to see the King now?"

"Oh, yes, thank you." She took up the tea tray and walked up to the queen before turned back to her friends. "I'll see you guys later. Could you watch over Valentino please?" Dario picked up Valentino and gave her a thumbs up. "Thank you!" She said and walked. Dario shut the door and handed Valentino over to Simon, who was back on the bench. "I need to meet with my dad later today, I'm gonna leave him with you, okay?" He signed. Simon yawned and nodded as he took the little goat. "Yeah, I got all day." He began stroking his head. "We'll have a good time. Oh... Valy. Was your fur always this sof..." Simon dozed off again. His arm around Valentino and his hand fixed on his head. Effectively trapping the little goat under his weight.

Perplexed by his circumstance, Valentino bahhed for help. Dahlia giggled. "Sorry buddy but I can't have you run around the kitchen. And the last time we watched over you, you escaped into the city and got lost for 3 hours. You'll be safe with Simon. You do seem cozy in his arms!"

Valentino gave her a look.

He was going to remember this indignation.

---

"I'll admit, the advisor of the English King is charming but he is so dull. When we weren't talking about trade negotiations, he would go on and on about his polo games." The Queen ranted to the Assistant.

"But polo games have such fine horses." Asha used to read about horse when she was 12. The English breeds were pretty to her.

"Indeed, he loved his polo pony. He spoke about the strength and agility of his pony with more delirium than about our trade." -She glanced to Asha- "Honestly, anything is better than trade negotiations."

"Did the advisor really lift a statue during your lunch break to impress you?"

Amaya chuckled. "Yes. He even asked to lift me! But I declined."

"And Magnifico wasn't there?" Asha whispered in shock.

"That advisor better thank the heavens every night that he wasn't."

"Much about him sounds like a horse. From his strength to his food intake."

"Ha. When he first arrived, you would've thought he was a horse by his stench."

"Queen Amaya!" Asha choked. Surely, the Queen has gone too far in her ill manner speak of a nobleman.

"Oh, how will he know." She waved her hand.

It was a long way to the King's study at the top of the castle but it was worthwhile for the conversations with the Queen.

They arrived to the grand wooden doors of the King's study. "Are you ready?" Amaya asked. Asha nodded.

She opened the doors and let Asha pass by. It was a clean space with a wall of black mirrors across from her but King Magnifico was nowhere in sight. Asha set the tray down on a table next to the book shelves. She looked and noticed something off. Along the wall was a glass case holding the King's staff. Along the edge of the edge we're designs of what looked like dragonflies. The staff had fallen from the handle holding it and lied diagonal inside the case.

Thinking nothing of it, Asha touched the edge of the glass, searching for a handle or anything that could open the case so she could fix it.

The design on the glass glowed and the bugs emerged, immediately swarming Asha. She held her arms to shield her face but stayed still. Dragonflies were harmless and should leave you alone if you're still, right? Then Asha felt sharp, stinging pain biting at her body.

Those weren't Dragonflies!

Asha began screaming and waving her arms as the hornets continued to relentlessly attack her. She reached into bag and pulled out a thick book, trying to whack the devil bugs away but to no avail. There was a shifting sound behind her as the mirrored wall opened like a sliding door. From this doorway, emerged the King of Legend, Magnifico. "Is someone in here- oh my goodness!" Magnifico was puzzled at the sound of screaming in the room until seeing his Assistant being bombarded by the protection spell for his staff. He couldn't have been at her side in less time

"Oh shoot, Asha! Wait! Hold still. Hold still!" Magnifico stammered, ducking to avoid the flying boot that was launched at the hornets. "I got it!"

He gathered the light blue bugs in his hands and sent them back into the glass. Asha stood panting while holding her book. "Thank you, sir." She said. "You're welcome. Are you okay?" He asked.

Asha examined her skin to see red spots where she was stung. "Well, nothing I can't fix." Magnifico chimed. With a snap of his fingers, something blue wrapped around her arms. It disappeared and the red spots were gone. "Thank you, sir." She said again, going to take her boot from the floor.

"Huh. Was it always like that?" Magnifico pondered as he looked at the fallen staff. He waved his hand, the glass door opened and the staff floated out into his palm. He closed the case and turned to the tea on the desk. He smiled at her constant consideration.

"So, did anybody see you on your way here?" He asked, pouring another cup of tea.

"A hunter but they couldn't catch up with me." She replied. "The cloak and mask are working but they're catching onto me."

"Again!" He handed her a cup of tea on a saucer. "I swear. This is an arms race between predator and prey."

Asha just looked down at her tea. Too hot to drink but keeps her thoughts in order. He sat down on the floor. Asha followed suit.

Asha thought back to the heckler that was outside the castle exit waiting for her, and 3 days before that, she had a run in with a crowd asking her to convince the King to take their extra wishes. She had made a list of names and their extra wishes to tell the King about. It is 43 pages long.

"And how are your trips home?" He took a sip of tea.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"...okay." He whispered empathetically. He stood up and took Asha's empty cup of tea. "You know what? Meet me in the Grand Hall after the Ceremony. I know someone who can help you get home." He set the cups down on the tray. "It's almost noon. Do you want to test the spells now? I have the vials and spellbooks in the hollow."

Asha stood up. "Certainly."

Waving his free hand, a circle in the floor opened up. Revealing a spiraling staircase made from cobblestone, alight with torches of blue fire. "Shall we?"

Asha nodded and the two made their way down below.

A/N: This was the most fun chapter I've written so far. I don't why my brain decided Dario should be the Shaggy of the group but it suits him.

I decided to keep repurpose the evil lair but I don't know how to make an evil lair less evil. This is getting fun but Tumblr needs to stop posting my chapters without its final edits when it fails to save!

@annymation @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @mythartist21 @oh-shtars @kstarsarts @uva124 @chillwildwave @queenamayasimp-deactivated20240 @ahomeinthestars-wishrewrite @rascalentertainments

#wish reimagined #wish rewrite #wish au #the wishing kingdom #kingdom of wishes #the assistant and the star

20 notes · View notes