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sturniolo-rat · 23 days

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Chapter 1: Cherry Contact

A/N: If this flops, I’m going to cry😢 In loving memory of @newsourceofnonsense, she's not dead; I just like the memory of her.

Contains: smut, oral, fingering , exhibitionism, plot

TW: tell me if you find any

Chris and Y/N are two walking commitment issues that enter into a mutually assured attachment.

Everyone thinks Y/N is a book hoarder, but she considers herself more of a book collector. She has over 700 books that take up damn near her whole apartment. The collection consists primarily of special and first-edition books. It’s probably worth around $50,000, but she doesn’t care because she plans on keeping them forever. To fund her obsession, she works as a waitress at a restaurant that just opened up called “The Copper Kitchen.” her best friend, Dorset, is a freckle-faced white girl with short brown hair, green eyes, and circle glasses. She also happens to be a bartender at “The Copper Kitchen.” Currently, Y/N is outside of her apartment waiting for Dorset so they can carpool to work. When Dorset pulls up in her shitty car, Y/N is ecstatic because she has big news to share.

“Dot, I’ve done it!” she says as she hops into the passenger seat.

“Wh- what have you done?” She’s very concerned that Y/N has done something crazy. It wouldn’t be the first time. The last time something like this happened, she told Dorset that she got her ex’s name tattooed on her left ass cheek.

“I’ve decided to have sex with men again!”

Dorset is relieved. “OMG! Yes! We can finally fight over men again!” They laugh as she merges back onto the road to begin the short trip to work.

“Yep, I’m meeting a guy at the restaurant after my shift,” Y/N says proudly. She's been off men since her break up three years ago, and this new guy is the first not to give her the ick within the first week of talking. She knows meeting up doesn’t automatically mean sex, but she hasn’t had dick in 3 years and feels that she owes it to herself to fuck this man. It’s not like she’s interested in anything else from him. Romance is strictly off the table for her. She prefers to stick to smutty romance books and shitty Tumblr fanfics of perfectly romanticized versions of men.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all about your little hookup.” They part as they head to their respective jobs at the restaurant—time to deal with shitty customers who tip like assholes.

Twenty minutes before the end of her shift, the most obnoxious kids walk in. They’re not actually kids; they're about 20, but Y/N considers anyone under 22 a kid, and these guys seem incredibly immature.

“Hey guys!” Says Nick, holding up the camera. “Welcome to today’s Friday vlog where we will be…”

Matt takes the camera, “trying the food at…”

Chris gets into the shot and yells, “The Copper Kitchen!”

Nick hits Chris in the head “Don’t yell in my fucking ear!”

“Don’t hit me, Dickface!” Chris hits him back while Matt holds the camera and laughs to the side.

The Y/N comes up and loudly asks, “Is this your whole party?” She gives them a disapproving look.

Matt is the first to speak, “Yes, ma’am, it’s just the three of us today.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” said Nick and Chris in unison. Chris is noticeably more embarrassed than Nick is. He’s absolutely mortified to be seen acting like a child in front of such a beautiful woman.

“Thank you. Let me show you to your table.” She picks up three menus before walking them to their seats. Only when they’re all sitting and looking up at her does she realize that the three boys are triplets. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

She points to Matt. “Root beer, thanks.”

She points to Nick. “Water, if you don’t mind.”

She points to Chris. “What’s the best virgin mixed drink you guys have?”

“I’m not sure, but you can never go wrong with a Shirley Temple. Do you want me to go ask the bartender?” She would love to tell Dorset about the sexy triplets that just stumbled in.

“Nope, we’re all good. I’ll take a Shirley Temple and a Pepsi.”

“Great. I’ll be back in a few with your drinks.”

Y/N practically runs to Dorset. Chris can’t help but watch her ass as she walks to the bar to order his drink. When she returns a few minutes later, she hands Chris his drinks last.

“Thank you for the Pepsi, but this…” he lifts the mixed drink and hands it to her. “is for you, miss…” he pauses to look at her name tag. “Y/N. It’s an apology for making a scene in your restaurant.” Nick and Matt are in shock over how forward he’s being. Chris has never really flirted in front of them before. It’s kind of weird, but they can see why he has so many girls in and out of his room.

“Well, thank you…”

“Chris.” he interrupts. “Please, call me Chris.” he gives Y/N a charming smile.

“Thank you very much, Chris. However, my shift is over, and Michelle will serve you for the rest of the night.”

“I’m sorry to see you go, miss Y/N, but I hope you have a good day.”

“Will do, Chris,” says Y/N before she walks away to sit across the room at the bar. She talks to Dorset about her date tonight while she waits for him. His name is Theo. He’s blonde with deep brown eyes, and from what Y/N can tell from sexting, he’s so fucking good at dirty talk. Unfortunately, he is 30 minutes late to meet her.

Chris has been relatively quiet for today’s video. He’s been distracted watching Y/N enjoy his drink and seeing her smile and laugh with her friend. She looks somewhat distressed now, and Chris can't help but think he’s found his opening. He makes the boys wrap up the video and leaves to get Y/N’s number.

He turns on his charm and sits on the stool next to her. “What’s got you so worried, miss Y/N.”

“Pretty sure I’m being stood up. I’m also pretty sure people under 21 can’t sit at the bar.”

“Who says I’m not 21? Maybe I’m here to buy you another drink.”

Y/N cocks her eyebrow as she calls her friend over. “Order me something then.”

Chris tries to think his way out of this. “Listen, you guys are friends, right? She’s just been stood up, and a handsome young man would like to buy your friend a drink. I’m sure if you just forget to card me this one time and let me buy her a Shirley Temple with vodka and extra cherries, it would make her night ten times better.”

“My hands are tied, Y/N. You’re my weakness.” she looks to Chris. “Dirty Shirley coming right up.”

“You’re fuckin’ smooth, aren’t you?” asks Y/N.

Much more confident than he was moments before Chris responds, “Yes, ma’am, I am. Now tell me all about the bad man who hurt you.”

“I’m not really hurt,” she replies, but Chris can tell she’s hiding something.

“No?” he questions.

Dorset comes with her drink, and Y/N takes a nervous sip. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course you can, Miss Y/N.”

“I’m not hurt. I was just really horny, and I got my nails done for this date, and not I can’t even touch myself at home because my nails are so sharp,” she says, completely embarrassed. She doesn’t make eye contact with him and focuses intensely on eating her maraschino cherries.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but…” he leans in, whispering in Y/N’s ear, “ I think I can help you with that.” She doesn’t miss a beat. She takes his hand and drags him to the large family bathroom. Dorset claps and cheers them on openly as they make their way. Y/N makes a mental note to get her back somehow later.

She palms him through his pants, and Chris grabs her face, pulling her into a rough, hurried kiss. “Oh, fuck. You taste like cherries.” he hikes up her uniform skirt and rubs her over her panties.

“You have yourself to thank for that.”

He spins her around so he can watch her face in the mirror as he touches her. “You’re also soaked. Do I have myself to thank for that, too?” before she can say anything, Chris’s finger is spreading her lips apart and playing at her entrance.

She closes her legs in response. “Nope, not so fast. You gotta eat it first.”

Chris sinks to his knees. “Yes, ma’am.” he wastes no time. He spreads her thighs apart, slides her panties to her knees, and starts lapping at her clit from behind. He’s got to be quick because his brothers are waiting for him.

She bends over the sink, propping herself up on her forearms. “Oh, fuck!” she groans.

“Hush, Cherry. Don’t want to get fired for fucking on the job, do we?.” The vibrations from his laugh makes Y/N’s pussy shiver causing her to wiggle a little. Chris loves watching her ass jiggle. “Has anyone ever eaten your ass?” he parts her cheeks and gives her a playful spank. “You have such a cute little asshole. Do you mind if I try?”

“Yeah, you can try,” she says sheepishly, hiding her face from the mirror.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget to give your clit some attention.”

“Oh, yes! Just like that!” Y/N cries out louder than she means to as his tongue explores her ass. He rubs her clit with the pad of his finger, and she lets out a breathy moan. Chris is hard as a fucking rock, and she’s making such pretty sounds. It’s torture not to touch himself, but he came here to help her out and needs to focus on making her cum.

“Yeah. Tell me how you like it.”

“Fingers, please,” she begs.

“Tell me how many you need, Cherry?”

“Two. Just two, please.” Y/N takes his fingers inside of her with ease. He searches for a moment to find that special spot of hers. “Right there!”

Chris is so happy with how open she’s been to him. The girls he’s been with recently have been so meek. She’s such a good girl telling him just where she needs him. He works his fingers into her faster, making sure to hit her G spot every time. Y/N starts pushing herself back on his fingers. Chris feels her pussy begin to tighten like a vice around him. “You’re such a good fucking girl. Cum for me, Cherry. Cum on my fingers.” her legs giveaway as her climax burns through her, and Chris has to hold her up as he tries to work her through it.

When her orgasm subsides and her vision comes back, Chris is on the floor holding her. She rests her head on his chest and says, “Thank you. That was fucking amazing.”

“Anytime, Cherry. I don’t expect any reciprocation today, but I feel I am owed your phone number.” He hands her his phone, and the new contact is already open.

“Of course, here’s my number, Chris.” she hands the phone back to him, gets back onto her feet, and pulls her panties up. She leaves without saying goodbye. Chris looks down at his phone and smiles at her contact name. “Y/N🍒 (Sexy Waitress)”

Masterlist

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slafkovskys · 1 month

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I know I’m getting ahead of myself but I can’t wait to see angel with Luke and Jack with Quinn during the playoffs!!

oh she’s so excited. after a very frantic phone call with quinn after finalizing her order for her first (technically) playoff jacket to freak out about the fact that she was getting a jacket and he was okay with her getting one.

“angel,” he let out a sleepy sigh, she had known the man was probably asleep when she called. she also knew if it was anyone else that he would of let the phone go to voicemail and deal with it in the morning, but she wasn’t just anyone. she was the one who had his spare key on her keychain, right in between the spare to luke and jack’s place and one for the lake house. “i knew what it was about when she asked. i’ve been waiting for you to wear my name for almost a year now.”

and that caused something to twist in her gut.

she knew that there would inevitably be pictures posted of their playoff attire and it wouldn’t be hard to spot quinn’s number slipped in the bunch. going public (officially public, not caught making out in a movie theater while luke walked beside without a care in the world) with jack was so subtle. it was quiet. it was an 86 on a puffer jacket at a family skate while he pulled her around the ice with the biggest grin on his face.

this- this felt loud.

this was playoffs and sure, she had a short-lived playoff stint with luke last season, but that was when it was just she and luke. now it was angel and luke and jack and quinn and-

“shouldn’t you be sleeping?” his sheets rustle and she can just barely make out the pillow he would never admit to cuddling in her absence tucked under his arm in the darkness.

“quinnie,” her eyes are wide, “i have to plan my outfits. playoffs are serious.”

she couldn’t even say anything when he dozed off on their facetime call twenty minutes later. she worked through the night on a powerpoint with possible outfit options for each game and it wasn’t until the clock was damn near five that she finally let her eyes slip shut.

she wakes up at noon, having slept through both of her morning classes to her computer screen dark signaling quinn had hung up at some point.

just above an you’re cute when you sleep text from the oldest hughes, is notifications from her groupchat with the boys. jack had sent a flight confirmation for flights to vancouver a few days after the devils season ends and quinn had responded with a link to airbnbs in vancouver.

a grin takes over her face because she hadn’t even considered that her other two boys would be there with her, oh! she can’t help but let out a squeal at the thought.

#hughes bros x angel

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cosmicpearlz · 1 year

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a drop of your good love

summary: he’d kill for you just as along as you loved him as much as he loved you.

pairing: gf!ethan landry x reader

warnings: a very graphic description of a murder

a/n: got inspired by another song and this one is ‘kill for your love’ by labrinth :) (i literally wrote this in like 30 minutes)

…………………………………………………………………………….

ethan knew he was in love with you since mindy introduced you into the friend group. something about your personality and character had drawn him to you. all he wanted to do was be close to you. near you.

when he finally confessed his feelings to you after a couple months of friendship, he was surprised to find out that you felt the same. you were finally his and nothing was gonna get in the way of that.

“hey cutie, you here all alone?”

“no, i’m here with my boyfriend and friends,” you replied to the creepy guy that stood too close to you while you were getting another round of drinks.

“i don’t see them anywhere,” his smirk sent red flags in your head. you looked for ethan to find he wasn’t there. maybe off to the bathroom but you needed an out. you turned around once more and made eye contact with chad. you frantically waved him over, to which he gets up with no hesitation.

“there you are, we were getting worried.”

“this is the boyfriend?”

“what’s it to ya, huh?” chad sized up the guy, ready to fight if need be. you were practically his best friend and he’d do anything to protect you.

“i’m just saying she could be with a real man,” the guy goes to grab at your arm but chad stopped that immediately by shoving him.

“keep your fucking hands to yourself,” the bartender finally notices the commotion and calls over security to get the man thrown out.

“what happened baby?” ethan wraps an arm around your waist and you leaned into him. feeling even safer with your boyfriend with you.

“that asshole was bothering y/n while you went to the bathroom. i made sure to set him straight,” chad explained to the boy and patted his shoulder.

“you okay love?” he gently grabs both of your cheeks tilting your head up to look at him.

“yeah, just a bit shook.”

ethan places a kiss on your forehead and takes a look at the man arguing with security. the boy was fuming with anger, how dare someone try to take what’s his? his eyes darken with delight, already knowing how he would make that man pay.

it didn’t take long for ethan to find every bit of information on the guy. his name, address, and job, all quickly accessed in the matter of twenty minutes. little did peter know, he wouldn’t live to see another day to harass another person ever again.

“so peter, you like to harass people, huh?”

“man, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” ethan had peter on his knees like the bitch he was, begging for his life.

“oh but you do know. you remember at the club last saturday.”

“i didn’t mean to do it! i swear!”

“i’m afraid time is up. you should’ve known better peter.”

ethan knocked him in the head with the lamp close beside him. successfully knocking the other boy down, he bends down and starts to slash him with his knife. blood splatting all over the ghostface costume but that didn’t bother ethan.

the boy started to picture the way your soft face had a tense look to it. it made him stab peter more and more. getting revenge for you was all he cared about. you, his baby shouldn’t be scared of a loser like peter. shouldn’t be worried about people like him.

peter stayed sprawled out on his living room floor in a pool of his own blood. ethan had stabbed him over a hundred times and ended with slashing his neck and tying his intestines around his cut neck. that’ll show that motherfucker was the thought that ran through ethan’s head before he left the crime scene.

you were walking into your shared apartment with ethan. stressed out from a draining work day, all you wanted to do was be in your loving boyfriends arms.

“ethan?” the sight of your sweet boyfriend who you believed couldn’t hurt a fly was bleaching his ghostface mask. the black robe still covered in red blood and what looked like chunks of human flesh.

“baby,” his heart dropped as you stood frozen in place. you weren’t supposed to be home early. ethan steps close to you, only for you to step back.

“what the fu-“

“i did it for you my love. he bothered you and i wasn’t there to help. so i killed him because he doesn’t deserve to live life after that,” your eyes watered and you couldn’t fully process what was happening.

“this was not for me ethan.”

“oh but it was. i’d kill everyone who even thinks about trying to touch you. tries to bother you. tries to be near what’s mine.”

as small tears run down your cheeks, you couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed. you felt just as fucked up as your boyfriend for feeling some what honored knowing he’d kill for you. feeling slightly turned on by his animalistic killing nature.

“i love you so much darling and i’d do anything for you.” the silence was killing ethan, if you didn’t accept him he’d have to handle it. that being killing you but he couldn’t do that. you were the love of his life. he needed you.

“i love you too ethan,” you whispered knowing what this now meant for you. you couldn’t really find it in you to care once you looked into those big brown eyes. maybe in fates own twisted way, you guys were always meant for each other.

“i want to kiss you so bad baby but i gotta get cleaned up first,” he gestured to his blood cover self making you giggle. you bit your lip and nodded, walking closer to him.

“hurry and you can get all of the kisses you want. maybe a little bit more.”

“remember darling, i’d kill for just a drop of your good love because all we’ll ever need is us,” he whispered before carefully kissing your cheek. he didn’t want to get anything on you but boy he couldn’t wait to touch you since you were all his.

#ethan landry x reader #ghostface!ethan #ethan landry #scream vi

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thewritingofspencerrose · 6 months

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Little Lady Masterlist

Maggie's Trevor

age twenty

"Hello? Is this the right Trevor? Maggie's Trevor?"

"Uh, yeah?" Is Trevor's unsure response, hearing the voice of a woman that is very much not his best friend.

"My names Emma, I'm a friend of Mags, we're nursing students together," The girl explains, "We're at this TKE party right now and she's drunk off her ass. I asked who I should call and she said you were the man," She continues to explain, the music loud in the background, making it hard for her to be heard. "So... can you come get her?"

Oh. This girl doesn't know he lives on the West Coast.

"Uh, I live in California actually," Trevor explains, uncomfortable in that fact that he can't get to Maggie.

"Oh shit, I knew her boyfriend lived far away, but I thought like, an hour," Is the girls response, flustering the boy on the other end.

"Oh, I'm not her boyfriend, we've just been friends for years," He corrects, knowing there's fresh color on his cheeks, even in the dark of his room.

"Ha, just friends my ass Trevor," Is the girl's bold response, Maggie's voice floating into the background. "You must not know how she talks about you," Emma continues.

"Oh?"

"Is that Trevy?!" Maggie can be heard screaming on the other side, drunker than he's ever heard her.

"Mags? Is that you sweetheart?" Trev asks, her giggling in response.

"Trevy, come give me a hug!"

"Mags I'm in Cali-"

"No no, come give me a hug, I miss you," The brunette mumbles, choking up.

Waving at Jamie across from him for his phone, Trevor types in Jack's number, letting it ring.

"I miss you too Mags, but you know I'm in Anaheim."

"Trev? What the hell man do you know what time it is over here?" Jack's exhausted voice grumbles through the phone that's up to his other ear.

Muting his own while Maggie is distracted, mumbling things to the friend who called, Trevor turns his attention to the other twin.

"Dude, Mags friend called me to pick her up and clearly I can't do that. You need to get your ass up and go pick up your sister."

You could hear Jack wake up just by the sound of his voice. "Do you know where she is?"

"Maggie, where are you again? Do you know the name of the bar?" Trevor switches over, Jamie trying not to laugh at the back and forth.

"TKE! My friend's brother is a brother!" She exclaims, Trevor relaying that info to her twin, said boy hanging up with a quick "I'm on my way" and leaving Trevor to distract Maggie.

"That sounds fun, how're you feeling?"

"Like I miss you," Is Mag's response once more, the alcohol taking away any filter the already openly flirtatious girl might have had. "You being in Anaheim sucks. You should move in with Jack and I."

"Baby, I play for the Anaheim Ducks, you know I can't do that from Jersey."

"Trev! We're 20 years old! How dare you settle down, and with someone other than me, no less," The girl nearly cries, leaving the loud environment she was once in in favor of quiet. "

"Maggie baby, what are you talking about? I live with Jamie?" It's moments like these he wishes they were dating, that he had gotten up the courage already to ask her out. Maybe this past summer at the lake house, maybe a few years ago when the boys gave him permission.

"Yeah, Jamie boy is taking my man!" She protests, the words echoing through the speaker function that Trevor had just activated, making the Canadian laugh.

"Your man?" Trev can't help but ask, a smirk on his face at the expression.

"You'd be my man if you'd ask me out already, I know you have my brother's permission," The girl admits, Trevor's face dropping at the admission.

"You- you what?"

"Oh! Trevor you won't believe it! Jacky is here! Jacky, say hi to Trev!" A near squeal unfurls, Jack's voice being the next thing a still confused Trevor hears.

"Z, hey, I'm going to get her home, she'll be feeling this tomorrow."

And at first he nods, realizing a moment later what he had done and responding, saying a quick goodbye just as Jack had done earlier.

When he looks up, Jamie is there, laptop turned in Trevor's direction and brows through the roof. "So, this is the first flight to Newark for tomorrow."

"What?"

"Dude," Jamie can't help the judgement in his voice. "Grow a pair and go get the girl."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #best friends to lovers trope #trevor zegras x hughes sister #hughes sister #maggie hughes story #trevor zegras x oc

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captain039 · 9 months

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PART 5 Stains of red

Astarion x omega!reader

Warnings: Vampire things, blood, light gore, witch things, fantasy things, swearing, age gap, heats, smut, shameless flirting, virgin reader, indulging in pleasure xD, pining, jealousy

Previous part <-

Astarion didn’t visit the next few days and you avoided seeing anyone. You needed supplies, but didn’t find the energy to do anything. Pax was always with you except for night time, worried caws and gently pecks. You’d pet his head from time to time enjoying the soft black feathery feel. You jolted awake to a knock and frowned seeing the sun still up, you must’ve fallen asleep. You opened the door seeing a stranger, a traveller.

“Sorry my lady, I’m terrible lost” the alpha said.

“Oh course, just follow this path, you’ll get to the village” you said pointing to the path going to the forest.

“Thank you my lady” he nodded his head and flashed you a brilliant smile.

“My names Ivis” he said holding his hand out. You went to shake it, but instead he kissed the back of your hand making flush slightly and say your name.

“Beautiful name, May I ask why’re you out here by yourself?” He asked and sighed thinking, another alpha who can’t see an omega surviving by herself.

“I’m the village witch I suppose” you shrugged.

“Oh how wonderful!” He said and you frowned, not the usual reaction.

“Perhaps you could help me” he flushed embarrassed.

“I’ve got this problem, on my back it itches like hell, I think I bathed in something bad in a river” he grimaced.

“Oh of course come in” you said stepping out the way so he could step in. He set down his backpack outside and headed in. You caught more of his scent, something infecting him, but a nice spice to him.

“Just in that room on the chair” you pointed and he nodded going to it and sitting down. He took off his jacket and you saw tattoos down his arms, strange swirls and patterns. He shrugged off his shirt, he was all muscle, probably from travelling a lot, his tattoos going up and circling in and end on his shoulders. You winced though seeing the angry red rash on his back, yellow infection seeping from where he scratched.

“Oh boy” you muttered going to moosh up some ingredients.

“Bad right?” He laughed.

“I’m sorry” you quickly said and he chuckled.

“It’s alright I know it’s bad, it feels bad” he said and you smiled. He was carefree in a sense, good humour.

“This may sting and be cold” you said and he nodded bracing himself making you smile. This big alpha probably swam in a gross swamp, thinking nothing of it and got this rash and ignored it for weeks. He hissed slightly when you applied the salve and you apologised. Though you could heal it with magic instantly, you felt he was more into the medical approach.

“I should’ve said I can heal this with magic” you said softly and he shook his head.

“I don’t mind, magic is hard, draining on the body, wouldn’t want you to waste your beautiful energy on me” he said and your heart jumped a bit.

“Besides magics quick, I can talk to you this way and come back” you could hear his grin and couldn’t help but, chuckle.

“There” you finished up gently placing a cool towel over it and he groaned.

“Oh that’s much better” he said and you chuckled.

“Gods this good” he added and you laughed shaking your head as you sat across the table from him.

“How long have you been out here?” He asked soft brown eyes looking to you.

“My whole life, my parents died when I was young, Asta-“ you stopped, Astarion had traveled a bit, you didn’t know who he had bad blood with.

“I’m sorry” he said sadly.

“My parents died too, not that young, when I was twenty. Headed on a ship and never came back” he sighed.

“I don’t know if they died though, I assume so” he shrugged lightly.

“Then I just started travelling” he shrugged.

“Who took care of you though?” He asked head slightly tilted.

“The villages aided me, funny really they all chipped in to raise me” you lied with a chuckle, hell the villages were not allowed near you, Astarion was territorial. Talking with Ivis was calming and nice, he was easy to talk too and a good laugh. By the time you knew it, it was night time.

“Gods its night already, I best leave you” he said and you stood checking his back, all the liquid from the had soaked in, leaving dry leaves and flowers.

“I’ll wipe this off first” you said wiping the remnants off. His back was less red and angry now.

“It feels much better than you” he said putting his shirt on gently.

“Of course, you may want another layer tomorrow, I can make you some” you said going to your bench.

“No, no it’s ok, I’d like to come back” he said and you turned to him slightly shocked.

“Oh, yeah of course” you said cheeks hot.

“Thank you again Y/n” he said and you nodded avoiding his eyes.

“You’ll want to see Lily at Lilys garden, she has the best hot meals and then head over to Haira at sleep and dreams for lodging” you recommended leading him to the door.

“Thank you very much” he smiled and you smiled back, he looked even better in the moonlight.

“Try to avoid sleeping on your back tonight” you added.

“Yes ma’am” he chuckled and you smiled shaking your head.

“Have a goodnight” you said as he waved and left.

“Goodnight” he called. You smiled, but frowned slightly at the overly glowing red eyes staring at you through the forest.

Next part ->

#Astarion #bg3 #Astarion x reader #x reader #aob #vampires

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 4 months

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While he's walking in the street to get groceries, skeleton discovers his teen kid has a boy/girlfriend. They're hanging out near the grocery store, having fun. Which skeleton are going to embarrass them? Who's going to be a little protective?

Undertale Sans - He's screaming "Are you winning son?!" from the other side of the road, as his kid is trying so much to ignore him. Their partner is a bit confused about what's going on, but won't resist when the kid drags them to find another spot to hang out lol. Sans is waiting for them when they're getting home though, wiggling his inexistant eyebrows at his exasperated kid who tries to run to hide in their room.

Undertale Papyrus - He was about to let them be, but man... He's so excited! He wants to meet their boy/girlfriend so bad! He's vibrating with excitement, and eventually can't hold it anymore and runs to present himself to his kid's partner, shaking their hand like it's a coconut and screaming 10,000 questions at once. His kid facepalms.

Underswap Sans - He's patrolling so he can't really stop. But the kid notices very well the police car passing in the street, again and again, lol, each time a little closer to them to have a better view. Blue is not exactly discreet about this.

Underswap Papyrus - He lets them be. However, as soon as they come back home, Honey will interview them suspiciously lol. He wants to know who is stealing his baby's heart from him, and you better convince him because he's not letting go easily!

Underfell Sans - He's hiding behind a tree. He thinks he is sneaky but he is really not as you spot him immediately. Red is staring into your soul intensely, and he won't stop before you decide to end your date. He doesn't like that. He doesn't like that at all. He was teaching you to walk yesterday, stop growing up now, that's not funny anymore.

Underfell Papyrus - He walks to his kid, grabs them, carries them like a bride, growls at their girl/boyfriend, and leaves with his kid lol. Yeah, he's not ready for this yet. You're going to have some talking to do...

Horrortale Sans - Hum... He's staring, unsure. Does he know the kid you're hanging with or not? He doesn't remember. Whether he does or not, he really doesn't like the way you're looking at them. Your friend eventually whispers to you a strange skeleton is staring at the two of you for twenty minutes without blinking now and that they're scared lol. His kid dares to shoo him away. How dare D: You don't shoo him! He huffs and obeys, but still. He's going to note this in his notebook and you're going to have to answer some questions.

Horrortale Papyrus - Aaaw. That's cute, two kids hanging together, it's the best time to do it. At least until he realizes it's not any kid but HIS kid and suddenly stiffing in disagreement. What are you doing? You can't have a boy/girlfriend now, you're like six years old the last time he counted! What do you mean you're sixteen now? No you're not! Go back home this instant! He's having anxiety just looking at you!

Swapfell Sans - You see him walking on the other side of the road. He stops, looks at your friend from head to toe critically, then just "meh." and then he leaves. What is that even supposed to mean? Your friend is a little in shock honestly lol.

Swapfell Papyrus - Oh my gosh! He's running to you, then puts his two hands on your shoulders as an apology. You beg him not to, but it's too late. He grabs your friend and drags them to his house, asking if they want to see your baby pictures. Your friend is really happy to accept. You want to die.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He comes to you, stares at your friend from head to toe, and then tells them he's not adopting strays at the moment, before dragging his kid along. Your friend is quite in shock after this, not knowing what to even tell. Rude! You're so mad.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's too shy to intervene. That won't stop him from following you discreetly to spy on you. He's your biggest fangirl, go for it! He wants to meet your friend so bad though. You better hurry and present them to him already!

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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artzychic27 · 10 months

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There are AUs where Marc is Marinette's cousin, right? What if that was canonical? In my country there is the concept of the perfect cousin and privileged by relatives and they often compare anyone who steps out of the norm to this cousin…. I imagine them almost as siblings in childhood, but with Marinette always getting more attention. And when they grow up, she becomes manipulative with him, it has happened that the whole family fights with Marc because of her. And that's why he always helps her with her plans… and I imagine the ones who would interfere would be Nath, Zoe and Felix (the first two for obvious reasons and Felix as "ok, I'm a shitty cousin, but this is crossing the line").

Since he was born, Marc has always been overlooked by his cousin

She was always so talkative, sociable, making people laugh and smile, and he just read in silence

Oh, never mind that he gets 100% on a test, because Marinette got 101% after she explained her reasoning behind the answer she gave. La-dee-dah!

Because she’s the “perfect cousin” out of the two, Marinette is always getting whatever the fuck her spoiled little heart wants- A new expensive sewing machine, fancy fabrics, magazines from high end fashion brands, and some of that stuff even comes from Marc’s own moms

Alyssa and Penny don’t outright say Marc should be like Marinette, but they’re more like, “Sweetie, why don’t you spend some time with Marinette?” And that’s code for, “Why can’t you be perfect like your cousin?!”

Sabine and Tom, though? They will take the opportunity to brag about Marinette’s accomplishments for twenty minutes then finally remember Marc’s in the room and ask his moms what he’s done lately

They have no idea about the awards he’s received in school for his stories, and he doesn’t mind keeping it that way. All of his certificates are just sitting in a folder in his hoodie drawer

It’s due to his treatment, that Marc’s wardrobe is toned down a bit. And by that, I mean he looks like his concept art-self

He secretly enters writing contests, and has been doing so and winning since he was ten. He’s earned a lot of money and keeps it saved up because if he tells anyone in the family about it, they’re definitely gonna use it to spoil Marinette. The only person he can really trust in Kiran, and occasionally treats him to ice cream

Marinette wants nothing to do with him. She always says she asks Marc to hang out with her, but he keeps declining. I’m reality, she doesn’t want a “Total weirdo” anywhere near her friends. And she lets him know it, too, but he couldn’t care less. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near a bunch of people who are probably psychos like her

He’s seen the way she acts around boys she likes, sniffing their hair, taking pictures of them, even following one guy home. It hasn’t escalated past that, but at least he’s not a part of it

However, his family doesn’t notice that about “perfect little Marinette”. He gets reprimanded for not being sociable like her and laughed off for having crushes because who would ever date someone like him?

Then he gets sent to therapy for his “issues” as Marinette so helpfully pointed out. There, he lays in to her that she can’t get a single question in

Marc: Oh! And then that bitch cut off my bangs while I was sleeping, and I got in trouble for playing with scissors! I mean- Oh, is our session over? Thanks again, Lisa. You are just wonderful for letting me vent. See you next Wednesday. *Leaves the room*

Lisa: … Damn, that boy’s cousin sucks.

In DuPont, everyone knows they’re cousins thanks to Marinette just so more people can compare Marc to his “perfect cousin”

Marinette has instant popularity she bought with custom clothing, her high-end connections, and Marc has his writing under the stairs while Lila quietly reads… Only for that to be interrupted when Marinette drags him out and into the art classroom one day where a few of her friends are gathered

They’re a little disturbed by her “psycho burnout cousin” being in the same room as them. Apparently, Marinette started a few rumors about Marc taking unprescribed drugs along with the ones for his “mental problems” just to make herself look better by comparison

Marc: … Well, that explains why moms keep searching my room for something.

Ignoring that, Marinette let’s him in on why he brought him in here- To help her with her plan to get Adrien to be her boyfriend by making a comic with Nathaniel that will map out the perfect date between them, which will eventually lead to marriage, having three perfect children, a hamster, and then dying together in a couples coffin

Marc: No.

Akuma Class: What?!/She’s your cousin!/You’ve gotta help her!/Don’t you want her to be happy?!

Marc: I am not obligated to help her, I know none of you, nor do I know this boy she is suddenly so infatuated with. So, pardon me if I sound rude, but leave me the fuck alone. All of you. I know how her fan club get when she is told no.

For context, Marinette’s “friends” will do anything to make her happy. Even bully those who are the slightest bit mean to her or show an interest in Adrien. Like Lila

Lila was the new girl who had no idea what she’d be getting herself into. After her Akumatization into Volpina when Ladybug called her a skeeze in front of Adrien, she was made an outcast by Marinette and eventually adopted by Marc

Now she swears to protect him with her life. On with the rest of the story!

The next day, Marc has his books slapped out of his hand, his glasses snatched, and he gets tripped on his way to class. All by some members of Marinette’s sychophant club

Some jocks who always leave stuff for Marinette on Valentines Day corner him in the locker room, but before they can do anything, some redhead walks in and tells them Marinette needs help with her books, and they’re gone in two seconds

Marc almost thanks the guy until he recognizes him as Nathaniel. Along with him is Lila. Before he can storm off, Lila stops him and asks Marc to hear him out

Nathaniel: Uh… Thanks.

Marc: For what?

Nathaniel: … *Lila nudges him* … For getting me out of that. I didn’t even want to make the stupid comic, but Marinette’s family bakery is more popular than my mom’s diner. She threatened to get her fan club to leave bad reviews and get her shut down if I didn’t help…

Marc: … You, uh… You guys wanna hang out… Away from here?

They skip school and not to their surprise, no one notices except for Nathaniel’s mom, Mme. Mendeleiev, and to Marc’s surprise, his classmates

They sort of stay out of the loop when it comes to Marinette, and the reason they don’t talk to him is because they didn’t want to make him uncomfortable since he always seems to close off when someone attempts to make conversation

Because Nathaniel hangs out with Marc and Lila, this turns him into more of an outcast. Oh, but don’t worry, because Chloé owes Marc a favor for something she won’t reveal, she gets her dad to leave a glowing review for Aya’s diner and boosts sales

Then there’s that whole shitstorm on the anniversary of Adrien’s mom’s disappearance. Marc (Who was dragged along), Nathaniel, Lila, and the surprising addition of Luka actually overhear Marinette’s totally insensitive and inappropriate confession to Adrien on what is supoosed to be a day of mourning, and Max sends the messages off before they can stop him

Then “Adrien” arrives. When it seems like he’s about to accept Marinette’s feelings… He tears into her, calling her all sorts of names

Lila just had to record it all for whenever she needs something to make her smile or laugh. But, when another Adrien arrives, it turns out “Adrien” is actually Félix, Adrien’s cousin

Marc: Which one do you guys think is the asshole cousin?

Nathaniel: Well, I like Félix, and Adrien seems too nice.

Lila: … Let’s keep Félix.

Luka: Yeah.

After some sychophant Akumas try and kill Félix to defend Marinette’s honor and after Ladybug puts on a show of being this angelic savior while Chat Noir is just her sidekick who does all the work, the Akumas are eventually defeated

Marc catches up with Félix and… Hugs him

Marc: You are truly the greatest human being on this godawful planet!

Félix: Uh… Thank you?

Marc: I’m serious! Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to tear into that girl? She needs to be taken down a hundred pegs, and because of you, some people are beginning to doubt her intentions with Adrien. If I weren’t in love with Nathaniel, I’d kiss you

Félix: Please don’t. I’m asexual.

Marc: Noted.

Félix: And I’ve decided to stay in Paris for a while, anyway. Someone’s gotta keep my moron cousin from walking into traffic, and it seems like you’re in need of friends

Marc notices a slight change in the school the following week. For one, a few people, namely his classmates are giving Marinette the stink eye whenever they can

As for the Science Kids, while they were appreciative of the nice clothes they got on their birthdays even though they weren’t in their style, they were never really fond of Marinette

Plus, a ton of bad reviews were left on Aurore’s Akuma Analysis blog and she has the suspicion it was started by Marinette to boost traffic for Alya’s Ladyblog

Reshma had a hard time making friends because Marinette convinced people she was just another Chloé (Someone Marc is considered adopting)

Simon was in the same boat as Marc once. Marinette saw his videos and “asked” him to get some footage of a boy she liked for “personal reasons”

And they never went to anyone about their treatment, because who’d believe them over Marinette? So, they were a class of outcasts no one ever wanted to be associated with

Also, Félix is in their class and gives everyone the latest information on every creepy thing Marinette does when Adrien doesn’t notice. Nathaniel and Lila would switch, but that would be like letting Marinette win

Now onto Reverser

Marc has a particularly bad week. He’s forced to go to dinner with the Dupain-Chengs just so they can brag about Marinette being asked to design an outfit for Clara Nightingale while Marc’s moms embarrassingly admit that Marc made a few friends

Marinette and her gang, for the hundredth time, badger Marc into making the Adrinette comic with Nathaniel, and go so far as to drag him to the art classroom where Nathaniel is, and where Marinette is banned due to her toxicity

Marc and Nathaniel are making a comic, but about Chat Noir, painting him in a positive light due to Ladybug soaking up all the glory. And Félix and Lila so helpfully point out that they should turn Marinette into a villain in their next issue… And they do, but only give copies to their inner circle

When he gets home, he finds a check in his mail as an award for another writing contest he entered and goes to put it with the rest… Which is not there

His moms aren’t home, Kiran would never, and the only other person with a key is… Marinette! And his suspicions are proven right the next day when he sees her in a VERY expensive outfit, and she just gives him this look

Well… He lets her have it

Marc: MARINETTE! Your pigtails are MINE! *Tackles her to the floor*

Lila: Yes! It’s finally happening!

*Marinette puts up a fight, but Marc has so much repressed anger and doesn’t hold back*

Marc: Take a bite of my Doc Martens, bitch! *Roundhosue kicks Marinette*

Marinette: Someone stop him! He’s a fucking psycho!

Félix: Shut up. Fuck you. Eat shit.

Marc: *Denise and Jean pull him away* You want some more, huh?! SCREW YOU! And screw these assholes, too! I HATE YOU, MARINETTE! I FUCKING HATE IT HERE! *Runs away crying*

Nathaniel, Chloé, Lila, and Félix try to call him back, but it’s a little hard to hear over everyone calling Marc a “Demon” and all sorts of cruel names. Cue the Akuma

Okay, so it’s not Reverser. Imagine the Grimm Reaper going through a punk phase, his scythe causes the worst parts of people to be revealed when they’re slashed by it, and he’s got Oni-Chan’s teleportation powers

Nathaniel, Chloé, Félix, and Lila attempt to stop him from killing Marinette and only giving her more to use against him, but he only promises them that “Things will finally change,” then leaves in a dramatic cloud of black smoke

Nathniel: Do we want him not to kill Marinette?

Lila: … Wow, you think of something for so long, and then it happens. I gotta sit down for a bit.

Félix: Get up and help us stop Nath’s boyfriend.

Nathaniel: What?! I- No! What? No!

Chloé: Relax, Kurtzberg. We know you’re crazy about him. You can kiss him after this is over. Now let’s help Chat Noir

Marinette can’t find a place to transform due to Marc always finding her, and while she would love to take a “much needed rest” for protecting Paris and let her “lazy partner” finally have to work, she can’t!

To her shock and anger, four heroes arrive on the scene. Vulpix, Queen Bee, CapriKid, Bomb Shell. Well, she’s not letting them get all the credit and goes after Marc herself. Finally, and excuse to hurt him… But he’s a lot stronger than she expected, and only succeeds in creating a crater in the road when she lands

Bomb Shell: *Watching Akuma!Marc bashing Ladybug’s head against a car window* … Should we help?

CapriKid: Nah, he’s got this.

Bomb Shell: I meant Ladybug.

CapriKid: Oh… Later.

Marc finally slashes Ladybug and all of the worst parts about her are revealed live, not by Alya, but by the heroes using their weapon phones, with the addition of Simon and Aurore. And… It’s a lot

When Marc is cured, Ladybug goes to reprimand him and force him to apologize like she does with all Akuma victims, but Bomb Shell threatens to slice her head off with her shield

Bomb Shell: Remember me, skeeze? *Whispers* I will find you, and I will break you.

The heroes, Aurore, and Simon waste no time posting what they recorded, and many Akuma victims step forward about Ladybug’s treatment. Even local law enforcement is suffering from pay cuts becuase of Ladybug insisting that she and Chat Noir get paid for their work. Chat Noir never knew about the cuts and donates his checks to the officers

Now there’s a active campaign against Ladybug, started by people who have a vendetta against Ladybug due to her poor treatment of Akuma victims after the Miracle Cure. Akuma class students who are most active in the campaign are Chloé and Nathaniel while a few are still on the fence

She claims Akuma victims need to be reprimanded for their actions and not coddled just because they can’t keep their emotions in check

Well, let’s just say therapists aren’t on her side

Everywhere she goes, Ladybug is jeered while Chat Noir finally gets the praise he deserves. They only keep her around and don’t try to steal her Miraculous becuase she reverses all of the damage

But while Ladybug is losing her status, Marinette still remains popular and uses her influence as a designer for celebrities to publicly denounce Ladybug Haters, but that doesn’t deter them

Oh, and Marc was suspended for a week after attacking Marinette, but he doesn’t give two flying fucks. Now he’s got a reputation as a badass who will go off on anyone who looks at him funny, and it keeps the Marinette Worshippers away. Also, his friends and Kiran are the only ones to believe him about the money, so that’s another thing to add to the list on why they hate Marinette

And Cue Zoé! She arrives in the middle of the semester like Lila instead of near the end of the year

Zoé is almost dragged into an Adrinette plan involving them getting stuck in an elevator, but she knows all about Marinette due Chloé’s long rants about her at home, so she keeps her distance and becomes an outcast. The only reason she’s not being actively bullied is because of Chloé threatening to get the mayor involved

Zoé never cared for Marinette, but she comes to hate her, because what person just does that bullshit to their own cousin? When Marinette tries to start another rumor about Marc taking antipsychotic drugs, she comes at her with, “Don’t you think it’s rude to expose people’s medical history?”

Now, you might be thinking. “Where does Adrien stand in all of this?”

Well, you see… Adrien is just so confused. DuPont seemed great at first, and his classmates were all so nice to him, especially Marinette. It’s too bad she’s so shy around him. Now things just keep shifting around. The girls are so secretive around him, Félix insulted Marinette for no reason, the guys don’t hang out with Nathaniel anymore, and Lila… He’s not entirely sure

And Marinette always lets him know who it’s safe to hang out with... But the list keeps growing. For example, Nathaniel has anger issues so it’s best not to talk to him, Lila is a serial liar who was kicked out of her school for causing a girl to commit suicide, Marc is… It’s best to just not to go anywhere near him, Zoé got expelled from her last school for excessive bullying, and to his surprise, Félix is on the list. He gets Félix pulled that stunt on her, but he’s his cousin!

Something’s not right. Well, at least he’s getting praised as a superhero for once, not that he ever asked for it. But, it’s nice to be appreciated by people

Though, he can’t help but wonder why Marc attacked Marinette all of a sudden… So, he asks

Marc: Because my cousin’s a lying, thieving, no good son-of-a-bitch who never should have been conceived and should crawl back into the darkest pits of hell like the Satan spawn she is!

Lila: Hey! Satan happens to have lovely children.

Nathaniel: You would know.

Lila: Oh, you hush.

Marc: Anyway, Marc Anciel, Marinette’s unfortunate cousin. Nice to meet you. Are you a sychophant, bystander, or outcast?

Félix: Trust me. He’s a bystander. You see, my dear sweet innocent cousin sees the chaos happening around him and knows it’s bad, but is afraid to do anything.

Adrien: That’s not true!

Lila: Ladybug called me a skeeze in front of you.

Adrien: … Okay, maybe I am a bystander.

Nathaniel: Not necessarily. Marinette just knows how to keep the worst part of herself hidden so people will like her and go along with whatever she says. At least you’re aware that something’s off. Anyway, we’ll help you.

Marc: Nope! First, he has to help us. And for that to happen, Félix, show him the video.

Adrien: What video?

Félix shows Adrien the confession video Marinette sent him on the anniversary, and it goes as well as you’d expect

So now, Adrien wants nothing to do with Marinette, especially after the outcasts gave him some hard evidence of Marinette being a stalker, and Marc even put him in touch with some of Marinette’s past obsessions so he can know just the kind of person she is

Marinette is NOT happy and confronts Marc in the locker room one day

Marinette: What the hell did you do this time, you freak?!

Marc: What are you gonna do, beat me up? Look how well that went last time, jackass.

Marinette: Because of you, Adrien hates me! Why are you so hell bent on ruining my life?!

Marc: That is so RICH coming from you! The second you were born, your life’s ambition was to make my life hell! Because of you I had no friends growing up, my moms and all your little sycophants think I have a drug problem, I’m in therapy for problems I don’t have!

Marinette: And who the hell would believe some pathetic loner?! Face it! Your only purpose in life is to be compared to me! The physical embodiment of perfection itself! You are nothing! No one would even know your name if I weren’t born! Hell, it’s not like they bother to remember anyway! Even your own moms love me more than you and your sad sack of a brother-

Marc: *Death glare* Leave Kiran’s name out of your fucking mouth. Go on. Try me, bitch.

Marinette: You- you think you can threaten me?! I have all the power over these pathetic losers! Just like you, they are nothing and would have nothing without me! All of them are nothing but pathetic sheep riding my coattails! Why?! Because I gave them those coattails in the first place! I gave them some form of hope to grab onto, a shred of hope that they would get to bask in my glory if they just did every damn thing I said and kept them happy, but once I am out of here, they will have NOTHING! They can’t even do something so simple as to make Adrien MINE!

Marc: You do realize he’s not an object, right?

Marinette: I don’t care! He’s perfection! I’m perfection! I deserve him! He should be modeling my clothes, worshipping and groveling at my feet for my love like every idiot boy in school! And once I marry him, the Gabriel brand will be in my grasp, I will take the fashion world by storm, and you and that little boy toy of yours will be doing favors just for a scrap of cash before dying in an alley somewhere! As if you ever think your writing career is gonna take off! Those contests you entered? They obviously have low standards! Thanks for the cash, though and for giving these idiots another reason to hate you and adore me. *Leaves*

Lila: *Exits the girl’s bathroom with Chloé* Wow. That was intense.

*Félix, Nathaniel, and Adrien walk out of the boy’s bathroom*

Nathaniel: Simon? Did you get all of that? *Opens a locker to reveal Simon with a tape recorder*

Simon: Every last word.

Félix: Man, it’s a good thing you fit comfortably in a locker.

Simon: There’s a pencil stuck to my ass. Does that sound comfortable?

The following week, Marinette finds herself on the receiving end of some dirty looks and makes a mental note to get her idiot classmates to do something about those losers

But when she goes crying to them, Kim slaps her across the face

Nino: Jesus, Kim! She’s a girl!

Kim: … Screw gender rolls.

Nino: … Okay, that’s fine.

When she recovers, Max plays Simon’s recording, but Marinette is still trying to save face

Marinette: Who are you gonna believe?! My psycho of a cousin, or your best friend?!

Max: I’ll believe and ax-wielding murderer over you. And I’m done doing your dirty work just so you’ll keep quiet. Everyone! I am a proud homosexual, and I am in love with my best friend!

Rose: I have a severe medical condition and I didn’t want any of you to pity me or treat me like glass!

The Akuma class all come out and share the secrets Marinette blackmailed them with unless they did exactly as she said

And as for Adrien, he hits Marinette with a restraining order and yells at her to stay YARDS away from him at all times

Lila: Oh, she’s violating the restraining order right now. Off to jail!

Marinette: Shut up, Lila! Adrien, you don’t know what you’re saying! You’re supposed to be my boyfriend!

Adrien: Why? So you can have my dad’s company? You’re either desperate or stupid. I have no interest in inheriting the brand and plan to go into child psychology, so even if I were to go crazy and fall in love with you, you wouldn’t be anywhere near Gabriel.

Marinette: You all… Arr going to be SORRY! Tikki! Spots on!

Marinette transforms and is about to take off with Adrien, but a familiar Doc Marten boot hits the side of her head and knocks her out so that Marc can snatch the earrings off of Ladybug

Marc: … I’m fucking serious, guys, I had no clue about this.

And to make matters better, the police arrive to take Marinette in for questioning about her stalking, but as she’s being shoved into the police car, she actually grabs for an Akuma

So now, Paris will face the wrath of La Dictator

Zoé: We… Are so fucking boned, you guys.

Not necessarily. Chat Noir gathers the Miraculous and brings back Vulpix, Bomb Shell, CapriKid, and Queen Bee. And Calamity, Viperion, and Mariquita make their debuts

While La Dictator is smiting and punishing everyone who went against her, Calamity is getting survivors out of Paris with her portals so the team can take care of her without anyone else getting hurt

The battle lasts well into the evening, but they win, and Marinette is arrested becuase EVERYONE saw her reach for the Akuma

Bomb Shell: … *Giggles* Oh my God! We’re still alive! We’re alive, you guys!

CapriKid: We fucking lived! *Kisses Mariquita*

Vulpix: Yeah! Get your boy!

Things are… Somewhat normal after Marinette’s sentencing. For one, his moms apologize for how they’ve treated him, but he can’t find it in his heart to forgive them just now

The Akuma class and everyone Marinette has blackmailed are getting some serious therapy and make it a goal to make up for their treatment of others due to Marinette’s influence

And there are several permanent heroes now, that’s good. Lord knows Paris needs them, and… Oh yeah! Marc and Nathaniel are dating

Adrien found comfort in Luka and they began dating. Zoé’s dating Cosette. Félix is dating the library. Lila’s been learning how to skateboard from Ismael, and Chloé had her lesbian awakening when she met Kagami

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #answered ask #ask me stuff #marc x nathaniel #mlb au #Made a whole ass au here!#someone! send in another ask!#let me turn in into a whole ass au!#mlb ocs #Marinette salt #favoritism #favoritism au

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

(Re-sending bc your inbox exploded) Can you write about Taehyung being the BIGGEST simp for his reader girlfriend while she’s on her period? I’m in the fetal position and this is the only thing that will help at this point. 🙏🏻 Heal me, Jade unnie 🙏🏻

oh sweet bb, i’m sorry you’re in pain! i have endometriosis, so i am very familiar with curling myself into a ball :(

(also i damn near choked to death on my sandwich at HEAL ME JADE UNNIE ☠️😂)

cw: fluff, best boy tae, period mention, there is a text but this is not a SMAU!

There was an entire king-size bed at your disposal.

Despite this, you were sitting cross-legged in the dead center of the mattress with your body slumped in half over your knees. You were exactly as uncomfortable as you looked; but folded over like the world’s angriest crêpe, you could at least pretend that you were fighting back against your uterus.

Going tit for tat with your reproductive system like this might have been petty - you acknowledged this. In fact, it might have also been absurd. But at the end of the day, you never subscribed to this menstruation bullshit in the first place. Consequently, you didn’t give a fuck if you were waging a losing war.

Besides, with your back exposed the way it was, Taehyung had a canvas. He stretched out sideways behind you because your unyielding presence in the middle of the mattress limited his options to two: the well between you and the pillows, or the floor. From that trench, his fingertips sketched invisible doodles against the fabric of your t-shirt. Hangul you couldn’t quite make out, pictures you could only guess at.

As always, his little ministrations calmed you. At any other time of the month, you would be fast asleep by now. Maybe that’s another reason why he nestled in behind you: so you’d have a warm body to lean on if your insides ever gave it a rest.

“What more can I do for you, petal?”

His murmured words snapped you out of your hypnosis.

“I could grab take-out from that new place up the street,” He continued as he sat upright, scooted closer to you.

When you unfolded yourself, his chin dropped gently down to rest on your shoulder. Never one to miss an opportunity, he placed a peck on your cheek before bumping the tip of his nose against the very same spot. He got the reaction he wanted, which was the first smile he’d seen from you all day.

You hummed in consideration. On the one hand, you couldn’t take more ibuprofen without eating; but on the other hand, he’d be gone from you for twenty (20) entire minutes. Your growling stomach answered before you did. Taehyung’s head tilted to rest against yours as he chuckled quietly.

“So, yes to the dumplings, then?” He teased as one of his hands tugged at the back hem of your shirt. At the mention of food, Yeontan stretched out of the ball he’d made of himself near your bent knee. “Do you need anything else?”

You didn’t want to ask, but it wasn’t an errand you we’re currently capable of running yourself. To be fair, you weren’t uncomfortable about asking this of him; it was what it was. You just knew how confusing this pharmacy aisle could be for people with periods; Taehyung might not stand a chance.

He expertly translated your silence, kissed your cheek again, and scooted himself to the edge of the bed. Bright white teeth glimmered at you as he grinned. They sparkled nearly as much as his eyes did when he raised his hand to his forehead in salute and declared, “I’m on it, boss!”

Your mirth was exhaled through your nose. Your concern tilted your head slightly to the side as one side of your mouth hitched up, “You sure you’re up for this mission?”

His boxy smile widened while he blinked back at you. His eyes said nope and help, respectively, but his mouth said: “I will not leave that pharmacy until the objective is completed.”

You dropped your face into your palms with more muted laughter spilling out. “Please don’t die in there,” You mumbled through your fingers, “Tannie and I would never manage without you.”

He hopped back over to deliver two more kisses - one to the top of your hung head, and the other to Yeontan’s - before heading on his way.

There were nine (9) minutes between his departure and his text.

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yanderes-galore · 12 days

Note

Here is my other request: it's a scenario for a platonic Pop (HTF) that wants reader as a new kid. After Cub died for good, Pop lost his sanity to grief, guilt and loneliness, to the point that nothing in his life mattered anymore. Honestly, i think he wouldn't even mind if his paws were covered in blood. Now, entering Yandere territory. Imagine if this Pop found reader, who is in their twenties. The bear meets a kind, gentle and friendly person who ends up captivating him to the point that he starts to act like a father to them. Maybe it's fate giving him another chance. Now, he promises that he will never let anything happen to his new child, even if his claws and fangs are dripping with the blood of more people. (possible scenario: Lifty and Shifty try to rob reader, only to find a broken and angry bear who has nothing left to lose. The result: two mutilated raccoons. You can put as much gore as you want).

OH BOY! Haven't touched Happy Tree Friends in a while. Time to go back to what I do best... psychotic bears.

May have spelling/grammar errors, it was no properly checked for errors.

Projections

Yandere! Pop Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Mind break, Blood, Gore, Death, Major character death (Cub is dead, so are Lifty and Shifty), Manipulation, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Murder, Disturbing descriptions, Dubious companionship.

The death of a child is never easy for a parent. Even if you've seen it countless times... Waking up like it's some nightmare... The trauma sticks with you. Pop thought losing his son would be just another one of his nightmares....

No... life decided it would like to be cruel to him once again.

Pop first lost his wife... now he lost his dearest Cub in a freak accident. The bear still couldn't process the amount of blood on his own fur. He remembers he couldn't stop shaking... his eyes twitching as he stares at the blood on his paws.

Even as he woke up in the morning, it was all still the same. He woke up alone. No wife, no kid, just him.

Just him and the memory of holding his son... Both covered in blood.

Pop didn't think he'd recover. He was tired of these nightmares involving death. All he ever saw was blood deep in his mind and it led the bear to constant nights of suffering.

Pop doubted he'd even be a parent again. He doubted he'd even get to feel the joys of that anymore. No... he was a failure, just a bear undeserving of his own name.

However... then life decided it wanted to play nice again.

Out on a walk, Pop met you.

You were an adult who had been partaking in college. You were at the park to catch some fresh air after studying and came across Pop. Being respectful, you offer chat to the bear.

Pop was hesitant at first but eventually joined you on a bench. From there, Pop learned you were kind... gentle... and friendly. You cared to listen to what he's gone through and you two managed to become good... friends...?

Pop wonders if Cub would've grown up to be just like you if he was alive. The thought brings tears to his eyes for just a moment, yet you manage to distract him from the pain. You... You were such a sweet angel.

Perhaps you were sent to him as a second chance.

A chance to be redeemed as a parent and mentor.

Since your meeting in the park, Pop has offered himself up as a mentor for you. He became someone you could rely on as you worked through college. Part if him wonders how Cub would've done at college....

Unbeknownst to you, you became a replacement for Cub. In Pop's eyes, you were his new kid. A kid he'd do anything to protect...

Anything as long as it meant you lived a safe and happy life.

Pop never took his eyes off you. He had your number in his phone and tried to be near you at all times. He even decorated your nickname in his phone.

Pop often invited you to bowling, he offers to play Tetris with you... He even asks if you like barbecue. He wants to prove he can be a good father figure for you. He's trying his hardest to embrace this second chance he was gifted with.

Although, the true test came quicker than he thought.

Pop never liked Lifty and Shifty. The two raccoons were no good crooks who took advantage of others. He didn't think he could hate them more.

Until he caught them robbing you in an alley.

After that... all that was left was red.

Pop never saw you cower into the corner as he lunged at the two raccoons. Pop never heard himself roar as he tore into their flesh. He barely even tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

The alleyway becomes painted red. The squeals and screeches of raccoons rings out before going dead silent. The smell of gore stings in your nose.

Pop's onslaught only stops when he hears sobbing. Your sobbing brings him back to reality. To him it sounds like the cry of a baby...

His baby.

Pop snaps back, spitting out chunks of flesh as he looks down. Once again... he's covered in blood... and it's not another nightmare. The taste is all real and he stares down at the mangled and gouged corpses of the raccoons who tried to rob you.

His wide bloodshot eyes snap to you. You're crying... screaming... but he saved you. Those raccoons can't hurt you anymore.

They're dead forever... just like Cub... just like his family...

But he has you now... and you have him.

"Sweetheart..." The bear finally speaks, coming closer as you try to scurry away. "It's all going to be okay... they can't hurt you anymore."

You try to run, but the bear quickly pulls you into his arms. You struggle and gag at the feeling of blood and gore in his fur. You want to go home.

"Just relax..." The bear coos. "Papa bear is here now... just calm down."

Eventually you relax yourself in an attempt to appease Pop. He smiles softly... his smile bloody. You convulsed in disgust again before Pop sighs.

"Let's get you home, baby..." Pop chirps, dragging you out of the alleyway.

"We both need to get cleaned up!"

You follow him reluctantly... Too tired and stressed to fight... although you begin to assume you aren't going to your home tonight.

#yandere happy tree friends #yandere htf #yandere pop #yandere pop the bear #platonic yandere

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matthyeu · 6 months

Text

tim hortons ― smt.

pairing ⇢ seok matthew x gn!reader

genre ⇢ comedy, fluff

warnings ⇢ this was just self-indulgence as you will see </3, mentions of a car crash but nothing happened lol

word count ⇢ 1377

synopsis ⇢ this is how matthew's life would be if he didn't get 3rd place on boy's planet. hey, at least he met you.

notes ⇢ HEYYY GUESS WHOS BACK,,, well not really i’m just like popping back in after the comeback bc like WOWWW but hi i’ve been really stressed back in school doing a lot of exams and applications for nursing school. i just finished my teas and like the semester’s almost over so i’m so STRESSED AAAAAA and this has been in my drafts for so long bc yk i’m just manifesting myself getting into nursing school but i will def try to get more uploaded soon but i’m always tired from work and school eueueu got some drafts tho so i’m hoping to get that done soon. take care!!

perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to get an early start to studying for your pharmacology exam. not, it definitely wasn’t the best idea. every professor had always told you to review and study more than you thought you needed, so you tried your best to do just that. it was just that one confused topic led to another…and then to another until you realized it was nearing two.

late nights were no stranger for a nursing student, but they were not recommended if you had plans for the morning after, especially if the morning after was your weekly 12-hour long clinical rotation.

that was how you ended up with two and a half hours of sleep, a frantically thrown together lunch, missing materials, and a need for caffeine after you overslept your alarm by twenty minutes. you cursed your ability to sleep through alarms but also thanked yourself for setting alarms every five minutes in case this ever happened.

the facility you were stationed at was a little over an hour from your apartment, so you would barely make it in time. there was realistically no time for you to stop by for coffee. usually, you would just make your own, but your unfortunate luck continued to prosper as you had forgotten to purchase more instant coffee in your last grocery run. however, seeing as how you nearly fell asleep behind the wheel the first ten minutes of your drive, you knew you needed it. if you died in a car crash, there was definitely no chance for you to make it to your clinical on time.

you pulled into the parking lot at the tim hortons nearest to your apartment, seeing only one other car there who you assumed belonged to whatever employee was on opening duty. it was only 4:43. this location opened at 5. if you waited for it to open, you would definitely be late. even if you had just told yourself it was alright to be late, you were sure your instructor would not be pleased if you were, especially since this was an obstacle you could potentially get over.

reluctantly, you shuffled your feet to the entrance, not worrying if you would wear the soles of your white shoes quicker than they were supposed to last. you didn’t want to bother the poor worker, but it was your only choice besides sitting in your car waiting for 17 minutes, which was definitely not practical.

reaching the entrance, you peered in to see a young man diligently preparing for the day. you figured he would be far too busy to notice you (or it was just your excuse to walk back to your car and wait). still, mustered up the courage to wave at him from outside, refraining from knocking on the glass.

by some dumb luck, he noticed you and came to the door from around the counter. he gave an apologetic smile as he opened the door, popping his head out. “sorry, we aren’t open yet.”

“actually, i was wondering if you could make an exception. i have to be at the hospital in an hour and it’s an hour drive from here,” you explained as you fidgeted with your watch.

“oh definitely i can do that for you. that hospital must need you as soon as you can get there,” he commented as he opened the door wider for you to come in.

“oh no, they do not need me. yesterday i put on my sterile gloves wrong 4 times because of nervousness. if anything, they hope i’m not there,” you casually blurted out, which caused the employee to give you a concerned look. “i’m a nursing student, not a licensed healthcare provider. everyone always thinks of nurse or doctor when they see someone in scrubs, but i’m just a stressed person in college trying to get through.”

“ah, makes sense. i thought you looked young to be finished with school already, but i didn’t want to say anything in case it was offensive,” he commented once you both were at the register, “what can i get for you?”

“just a medium iced latte please,” you ordered as you dug through your wallet for the right card.

“go ahead and insert your card whenever you’re ready.”

and you did just that, receiving the receipt from the employee once the transaction was over. “it will be out shortly.”

there wasn’t much for you to do but stand off to the side as you watched him work. as time went by, there was something familiar about him you couldn’t catch. it was as if you had seen him from somewhere, but the only places you really frequented were the library and hospitals. was it from tv?

“here you go,” he announced as he slid the cup over the counter.

as he was about to head back to finishing his preparations, you took a sip of your latte. with the newfound courage taken over you by the caffeine, your thoughts spilled out of your mouth. “do i know you from somewhere?”

he chucked. “no, i don’t think you have. if so, it was a long time ago since i just got back to canada.”

“you have a celebrity lookalike or something? i swear i’ve seen your face somewhere before,” you asked.

“ever heard of boys planet?”

then it hit you. you looked at his nametag. matthew. of course, he was the canadian from that korean reality show one of your friends had shown you. in fact, she begged for you to help her vote, and she was devastated when her one-pick didn’t make the group. and here he was, standing in front of you at tim hortons.

“ohhh that makes a lot of sense. my friend had me voting every day for you when the show was airing. interesting seeing you working here. totally thought you’d continue trying to be an idol if you didn’t make the lineup.”

“i missed home too much, i guess. i had it planned out during the finale too, the part time job i’d get if i didn’t make it. didn’t think i’d actually end up at timmies, but alas, things happen. thanks for your support though.”

“don’t thank me,” you insisted, “i’m just an unsuspecting victim to desperate fans who wanted the best for their faves.”

“i think that’s the best feeling though, meeting someone who doesn’t really care about what you’ve done or who you are. you’re the first person who’s actually recognized me, and i’m glad it’s not someone who would leak this information. though, i’m sure it will spread eventually.”

you finally noticed what he was doing throughout the conversation: packaging a 10-count box of timbits. “here,” he called as he pushed yet another item over the counter, “on the house.”

shaking your head, you quickly responded, “no i can’t.”

“trust me, you’re going to need the boost of energy from the sugar for your shift. just take it, or else you’ll be late.”

“oh shit,” you cursed, realizing you had spent too much time in the shop already, “fine, but i’ll be back and next time, i’m going to buy something for you to enjoy.”

“mhm good luck!”

you ran back to your car, relieved you decided to come in when you did when you saw a plethora of cars pulling in with two minutes until opening. the coffee was placed into the cupholder and the box onto your passenger seat.

before beginning your long drive to your impending doom, you decided to have one of the timbits matthew had given you. that was when you noticed the small message written on the top of the box.

good luck! you’re doing great things for the world :) come back anytime! i always open on fridays and will take you after 4:30.

you smiled at the little note, popping one of the pieces into your mouth. it tasted way better than timbit you had ever had. you weren’t sure if that was just because they were fresh in the morning or the care you knew was packed into them. needless to say, you would wake up a little earlier on your fridays to go back to this location to see matthew.

#🐨 ― matthyeu #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #seok matthew #zb1 matthew #seok matthew x reader #zb1 matthew x reader #seok matthew imagines #seok matthew one-shot #comedy #fluff

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emilykaldwen · 18 days

Text

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Fourteen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Author's Notes: Back from hiatus on April 26th! (Chapter 16 is just about polished and I finally made progress for chapter 17). I'm sending huge, huge thank you to my beloved beta and co-pilot, @vampire-exgirlfriend for all her love and support and kindness. There's been a lot of times that I've thought about stopping, about not continuing this story, about maybe just keeping it to myself. It's been her love and very aggressive 'that is DUMB' affection that has brought us close to the end of Arc I.

And a huge thank you to the people who have liked this story. I genuinely would love LOVE LOVE to hear your thoughts. In inbox is open, reblog and tag me, however you want to let me know that you're here <3

we are now entering the 'oh my god these too are so fucking into each other they want to fuck so bad it makes them look stupid' era

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Love the World Like I Should

Grandfather Rodrik shows up with love and gifts, and there's some smooching on the dance floor at Aegon's nameday feast. Also some political anxiety.

King’s Landing was filled to bursting in the days approaching Aegon’s nameday celebrations. Never had Abby seen so many people crush themselves into the Red Keep. ‘More will be at Harrenhal for the wedding’, Helaena had said, their small group seeking solace away from the gaggle of the court for a while. Baela had come with them, overwhelmed with the crush of noise herself, even if she did not admit it. The Princesses Targaryen, Abby, Wylla, little Floris, and Baela’s two ladies had all sought the quietest part of the gardens to hide from the increasingly aggressive attentions.

Now, though, Abby could not hide from the crush of people.

The Reyne retinue arrived in the early afternoon, and while an ancient and powerful house as theirs deserved their pomp, the familial presentation was for Rodrik Reyne, uncle to the Queen Alicent Hightower, and grandfather to the future Princess Abrogail Strong.

Grandfather to the potential future queen, as the whispers and rumors flew around the Red Keep with the coming celebrations. Rumors that Abby wasn’t sure would come to pass, but could not deny that the king’s wishes still might change. That was a future she wasn’t sure what to think about.

His hair was more gray than auburn, thick and wavy as if he were a man of twenty instead of near seventy. Lord Rodrik was tall and broad, an imposing figure on his gray and white courser, its fine white mane braided into little knots along the elegant arch of its neck. To see him and the king that was only feet away from her had a curl of unease snaking through her belly. To look at the king was to see a man wasting away, a man at death’s door. To see Rodrik Reyne dismount with fluid ease was to see a man who, while past the prime of life, clearly had so much left in him.

“Your Grace.” Lord Rodrik mounted the steps, arm clapped to his shoulder in the Westerland sign of fealty as he bowed. “It is good to see you in fine spirits, my king.”

“No finer time than to celebrate such a joyous occasion, Lord Rodrik,” the king said with a smile. Rodrik clasped Uncle Otto’s arm in a firm grip, pleasantries exchanged and his smile broadened as he bowed lower before Queen Alicent.

“You are the light of the seven, aren’t you, my dearest,” he complimented her, genuine to the core. The queen’s cheeks pinkened at the praise and she readily embraced her uncle, fingers grasping his arms.

“We are so glad you are here to celebrate, uncle,” she said. “I am pleased to see you in such fine health and I’m so sorry Aunt Dalla could not come.”

“It is a long journey and she is not as quick as she used to be. She was quite happy to stay back with Daerion and enjoy the children. I am their favorite, after all. It’s only fair that I give everyone else the opportunity to receive some attention.” Alicent blinked as she registered the joke, a chuckle spilling from her as her uncle pressed a kiss to her hand.

Aegon stood between his mother and Abby, and she felt more than saw him straighten up as Lord Rodrik turned his cool blue eyes on him. Age had not shrunk the man, and Lord Rodrik stood as tall as Uncle Otto, and though there was a far less threatening air to him, it made him no less intimidating. Aegon’s chin tilted up to meet the man’s eye and he inclined his head.

“It is good to see you, Lord Rodrik,” Aegon greeted, his voice polite and steady, when not two hours before, he’d been with her in the alcove behind the tapestry of Jonquil Drake frantic with nerves at meeting her grandfather. It seemed like the kisses she’d given him, as well as the growing bruise that was barely visible above the collar of his deep green damask doublet had not eased his worries. “I hope your travels were easy and without issue.”

The last time they’d seen any of the Reynes had been near a decade ago, at her mother’s funeral. They had spent time with her and her father at Harrenhal before coming down to King’s Landing to spend time with the queen and her children, and that event was entirely different than now.

“Good tidings on your nameday, nephew,” he returned with all the formality as if he were addressing him by princely title. “Our travels were well, and it’ll be good to be off the road for some time.” An expression of mischief danced in the pale gray-blue eyes of Rodrik as he assessed the prince before him, eyes catching on the bruise on Aegon’s neck and then glancing at Abby and the arm she had laced through his own. He raised a brow. “It would appear that your betrothal has made a man of you yet, my prince. I might even say you’ve grown an inch or two since I last saw you.”

Heat flushed through Abby’s face and Aegon’s own, his sputter brief and confused as the Lord gave him an amused look, as if he might ruffle his hair had Aegon been a decade younger. Instead, he gave another incline of his head before coming before Abby.

“You are most certainly taller than I last saw you,” he said, cupping her face in his gloved hands, the scent of horse and spice clinging to him as he kissed her forehead. Her hand slipped from Aegon’s arm to clutch at her grandfather’s crimson sleeves beneath his brown leather jerkin, warmth spreading through her chest at the gentle affection.

“Not much taller than this, I’m afraid,” she said, a light, awkward laugh. Her grandfather reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, where the rest of her hair hung in a long, simple braid down to the small of her back. He cupped her cheek, and she caught a shine in his eyes, a slow exhale as the familiar look of grief she knew well crossed his features, aging him in the moment. “I’m very glad to see you, grandfather.”

Rodrik Reyne nodded, pushing past the emotion before moving on to greet the rest of his nephews and niece, and she felt Aegon’s hand slide around her waist, fingers bunching slightly against the crimson and silver damask against her hip. She hid her hands in the belled sleeves, knotting them together and taking comfort from Aegon’s touch. Her chest ached painfully but she gave him a smile when he murmured her name.

“I am well,” she assured him, leaning into him momentarily before their party went inside, her grandfather speaking of the gifts he had brought for all of them.

Over the past days, it had been a bustle and flurry of becoming reacquainted with her grandfather, of suffering through her sister’s company. The apartments that she technically shared with her brother had served as the hub for the activity of their family. Houses Strong, Reyne, and Lannister moved in and out of the modestly decorated space. It had been overwhelming, but with the arrival of her grandfather, Cory’s acerbic tongue and judgmental looks had been averted, and Abby wondered if there was jealousy hidden beneath all that venom. She had fallen into her own acquaintance with the Queen, whom she had known when she’d served as one of Rhaenyra’s ladies when they were young.

Abby also had to organize the gifts brought from the Westerlands that would be sent back with Uncle Simon. Bolts of fine cloth of gold and silver from the expansive Reyne mines, a peregrine falcon, lovely cream and gray with black specks and bright black eyes she’d named Caelus. There’d been books too. A small chest carved with mountains and flowers contained five books, mostly from Myr, and some from Braavos, including what looked to be an interesting treatise from a Volantine woman who advocated for the importance of women’s contributions, and another on teaching woman to cultivate what she had determined as useful qualities, to achieve worthy acts in their lives.

‘A woman’s success,’ it read, ‘depends on the ability to manage and mediate by speaking and writing eloquently and effectively, for men so easily dismiss the thoughts of women, especially when their power is threatened by them.’

Perhaps she should look to promoting more copies of the sumptuously illustrated work. Perhaps she might even try her hand at replicating some of the images therein. There’s been a box of paints and new charcoal among the gifts, as well as a newly bound book for her to sketch in. Abby smiled at the idea, and had tucked it away for later.

“Mind the dress,” Wylla’s voice came from behind, already dressed for the feast and bossing about the red-clad maids of the holdfast who had been helping Abby as she worked to put together her household. Theraxis lay reclined along the end of the bed, his great yellow eyes watching the flurry of maids with such focus as if he too were supporting Wylla’s orders.

“Only a single lady?” Grandfather had balked, perceiving insult before she’d hurriedly cut in, explaining Wylla was more than enough, she did not want to be demanding, and hadn’t needed anyone else.

Wylla had snorted, eyes flashing in the familiar argument. “She’s meant to be looking for more ladies over the course of the festivities,” with all the same annoyance aimed at her as she had aimed at Aegon in the courtyard so long ago. “She needs six at least, but will she listen to me? Nay, she’s a wee stubborn thing and Lord Larys doesn’t seem to push it either.”

The gifts had not stopped there, and she was currently staring, wide eyed, at the most recent one.

The ornate wooden box before her was made of varnished rosewood, with inlays of silver decoration along the edges, and an equally delicate lock that her grandfather had carefully opened with a tiny silver key. The tiara that lay inside was fit for a queen. Ten citrine sunbursts wove together like flowers, the colors of them running from red to gold to orange and in the center of each, diamonds glittered. It sat in the center of the box, resting on a cloth of silver pillow and her mouth went dry.

“Th-this is too much. Grandfather…” Abby’s voice faltered and she lifted her gaze to meet his. Never had she felt so spoiled, so doted on. She felt guilt for it, the way it warred in confusing uncertainty. So long she had never asked for more, and it wasn’t as if Larys was a doting brother who snuck her sweets and trinkets the way Harwin had.

Her grandfather’s gaze was a mixture of annoyance, affection, and more that she did not understand. “It is most certainly not too much, dear child,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. Wylla slightly raised her eyebrows when he wasn’t looking and gently lifted the tiara from the box. “You are the blood of Castamere. You are my blood, my granddaughter,” he had said, cupping her cheek in a warm, rough hand and pressing a loving kiss to her brow. “The realm would do well to remember that you are a Reyne just as the queen is. It is not simply Hightower blood no matter how much my good brother likes to pretend.”

At least her grandfather was honest and she could not blame him for that. This was how the game was played. This was how power was brokered, even Abby understood the simple truth of it. Unlike most, Rodrik Reyne did not hide his motives, and the care that he expressed towards her since his arrival a few days ago had proven genuine. He did not ask her for favors, had inquired about her wellbeing and made sure she had what she was owed to her station.

Wylla’s nimble fingers had ensured the tiara was settled in her hair, twists of braids securing the citrine that matched her hair. The Riverlands style was one that she was glad not to give up and she would not have anyone thinking she was anything but the daughter of the rivers, and now a child of Castamere.

Her grandfather had escorted her down to the queen’s party. The king and her brother and uncle were already in the throne room and she could hear and feel the buzzing of growing anticipation as they approached the antechamber. Her hand rested in the crook of her grandfather’s elbow and her fingers spasmed with nerves. His hand found hers and she looked up at him, mouth parted as if to speak. He smiled at her instead.

“You look so much like your mother,” he said softly, his blue eyes misty and his smile warm. It took Abby aback. She had not seen the Lord Hand smile so openly and honestly. Larys barely smiled and when he did it made her wish to avoid it more often than not. The last man who smiled at her in such openness was her father. “She is here with us and she would be so proud of you.”

“Would she approve of this?” Abby asked softly. It was a silly question, the kind of question a motherless child who could barely remember her own mother asked. She could see the queen through the doorway at the end of the hall, hear Helaena’s laughter echoing along with Daeron’s.

Her grandfather paused and seemed to steel himself. The emotion was plain on his face. The grief was palpable and he did not meet her eyes as he composed himself. “Your mother was in the very fortunate position where I could let her choose who she wanted to marry. She could wait, and find a match that she got along well with. Lord Jason was a possibility, but even if your mother wanted to marry him, I couldn’t let her resign her future to a foppish imbecile like him, Lannister seat or not. She fell in love with your father and he did not demand heirs of her or money or prestige. He simply wanted someone to spend his days with and they found that in one another. That is what your mother wanted for you. A world where you were safe and loved.”

He cupped her cheek and Abby lifted her hand to hold his, feeling her own tears threaten. “The future has one certainty and there will be hard choices to make. Know that your family stands behind you, and that you may be a Riverlands girl, but there is a lion inside of you. They say in the north wolf packs survive together. You are part of a pride and are just as fierce. Dragons could not take the Westerlands and fire cannot burn the rivers.”

“He won’t burn me,” Abby said softly. “I trust him. I… care for him. I want him, not for a title, not for whatever the future may bring. I simply want him and he wants me and we just want to be happy. I think we can make each other happy, Grandfather.”

“Good,” he said and dropped his hand. “Then should the Stranger take me this night, it will be knowing you will be happy.” He gave her a watery laugh, amusement on his face. “And should he mistreat you, then I will haunt him to madness.”

When they entered the antechamber, Lord Rodrik pressed a kiss to her hand and went to join the rest of the gathering in the throne room. Helaena was in conversation with Daeron, and Aegon…

Aegon turned to look at her upon her entrance and his face went slack. She blushed, smoothing her hands over her gown, watching as the candlelight shimmered over the green and blue layers of the skirt, the fabric diaphanous, like currents of water around her legs. Her fingers found the golden dragons embroidered over her waist, intermingling with the glittering red weirwood leaves, worrying at the material. Her slippers were as gold as the dragons on her bodice, peaking out beneath her hem as she closed the distance between them. Aegon reached for her and she slid her hand into his and watched the smile spread slowly across his face.

‘I think we can make each other happy.’

Abby was not meant to be on Aegon’s arm as they entered the feast. He should have been escorting his mother as protocol dictated since King Viserys had entered the feast already. It was a heady feeling to know Aegon would not let her go, even as he was forced to drop her hand so she could tuck hers into the crook of his arm. A thrill that continued down her spine and coiled in her belly with the rest of the bursting butterflies dancing inside that gave her the strength to tilt her chin up as all her lessons instructed her to do. The perfect posture, the perfect gait all came rushing to her in a way that she finally understood why it mattered.

The pride that she felt wasn’t about being Queen Alicent’s pet project, or even that she had somehow snagged a prince for a betrothed. She was Lady Abrogail, heir to Harrenhal, the legacy of her mother’s fierceness and her father’s wisdom. As they walked behind the queen and Lord Otto, Abby squeezed her hand along Aegon’s bicep. She was the daughter of the Riverlands, and Aegon was lucky to have her, for there were many others that she could be with.

He looked at her with clear and bright eyes, the lilac full of mirth in a way she hadn’t seen from him in so long, and there were broad smile lines around his mouth, the flash of white teeth as he grinned at her. His hair was freshly washed, the silver curls gleaming gold in the sea of candleglow. His doublet was new as well - a fine, black silk brocade with a pattern woven in that evoked a shimmer of dragon scales. Golden clasps in the shape of dragon heads gleamed down the center. The seams were piped with red silk, and red silk trim embroidered with golden dragons wrapped around from the center and over his back. The same embroidered trim encircled his sleeves, which were slashed open along the back of his arms from bicep to the buttoned cuffs, the Targaryen red brocade of his shirt beneath poking through.

For the first time, he wore a crown upon his brow. It was a hammered circlet of gold that rested gently around his head, interspersed with seven circles stamped with dragons. Before the realm, he truly looked like the prince that he was.

A son who was celebrated by his parents.

She was lucky to have him. Let them see it. Let Queen Alicent see how brightly they made one another smile when they got to choose one another. Let them see she was not beholden to The High Tower, or to the Targaryens, or to anyone. Let them see that for all they may want to whisper about machinations and intrigue, she wanted him, and he wanted her.

Abby curtsied deeply before the king before they took their seats. Aegon was on his father’s left hand - the place of honor for the evening, and she was beside him. ‘How lucky we are’, came the thought again. She had not realized she had spoken the words aloud until Aegon’s grin widened into a beaming smile, his eyes crinkling with his own joy.

This was how the past weeks should have been. This is what the welcoming feast to Lord Tully and his party should have showcased: the two of them united, happy now, even as they set out to figure out what their marriage would be, what it would look like. There was enough time for that.

“You know, people like us don’t marry for love often,” Wylla had said, words that had stuck to her ribs.

The queen, her brother, and her uncle did not care for her and Aegon’s happiness, that much was startlingly clear to Abby. They had not come together in this betrothal by choice, but beneath the heart tree, they had made a promise. They had made their choice.

As her elder sister, Corynna, and her husband, Erwin Lannister sat beside her, Abby wished for the comfort of Wylla and Heleana at her side. The latter was at the other end of the table, and Abby’s gaze sought the friendly face of the young woman at the table below.

Wylla sat with Uncle Simon and Aunt Mya, looking striking in her black velvet gown. It was cut in the southern style, the neckline edged in white and silver cut across the line of her shoulders, her raven hair twisted into three rope braids woven with white ribbon and strung with pearls. She looked like a dream, Abby thought. A maiden of winter with all her pale skin and dark hair; striking in a way that many other women were not and Wylla wore it well. Harrion was beside her, his head inclined toward a lovely, red haired woman beside him. Wylla had said that his betrothed, Lady Alys Bracken, had only just arrived. She was so slight next to the northman’s bulk, her smile soft, eyes crinkling at the corners as she laughed at something he said.

Wylla caught her eye and sent her a warm, reassuring smile that Abby returned with a little wave, uncaring of decorum at the moment with how shaky her nerves were starting to get now that everyone was staring up at her. Her dear friend had not shied about her own discomfort in crowds, declaring her own relief that she was not the one who would be center of attention in her teasing, sharp yet fond way.

A harsh pinch against her left arm made Abby jump and she turned sharply to look at her sister, who was smiling serenely as if nothing was amiss. “Stop it, you’re behaving like a child,” she hissed behind a gritted smile. “I’ll not have you shame me.”

“If returning a kind gesture and a greeting to someone across the room is childish, then I cannot imagine you have many friends, Corynna, that do not cling to your skirts.” She smiled at her sister, whose saccharine falseness turned quickly to annoyance. “Do mind yourself, Cory. You are not my mother, nor my guardian.”

She caught the sidelong glance Aegon gave her and she felt his warm hand on hers, drawing it to his mouth to press a kiss against her knuckles. Abby felt the spray of heat along her throat, pressing her lips tightly together to keep from biting at her lip and being too obvious. He kept hold of her hand, thumb running lightly along her knuckles in familiar reassurance, and leaned in to speak softly against her ear.

“Lady Abrogail, if that’s the kind of behavior you plan on keeping up, as your husband, it shall be my duty to discipline you for such talk.”

Abby’s mouth went dry, her flush deepening and she glanced up at him, demure beneath her lashes. “Prince Aegon, you get ahead of yourself. I am the image of propriety.” He smirked and they both drew back. Abby reached for her goblet to calm the different sort of butterflies fluttering through her stomach now.

The echo of a staff cracking against the stone floor of the hall reverberated through the hall and all fell silent as the king rose, the queen beside him in what was meant to be a show of unity. But Abby knew that she was there to steady him so he did not have to rely on his cane. The black, red, and gold robe he wore nearly swallowed him whole, and she wondered how heavy it was for him.

Beside him, Alicent Hightower wore the colors of her house instead of a glow of green. She was as regal as Abby had ever seen, in a storm gray damask gown with white flame embroidery along her neck and shoulders. A cape of gray silk felt about her and the gray sleeves of her gown hugged her arms until they flared out at her forearms to bell around her wrists. Her auburn hair was twisted back on the sides of her head before coming to a single twisted braid down her back. Upon her head rested her crown of state. It was a gold circlet with seven points of golden flame rising from it and in the center flame was a blood red ruby that matched the gold and ruby earrings dangling beneath her hair.

“Be welcome,” the king said. His voice had rarely been a strong one, but he had found the strength behind it to let the words carry now. “It is good to see so many happy faces here, as we come together to celebrate my son, Prince Aegon’s nameday.” He turned his head to look down at Aegon with a nod and a gap toothed smile that, while fleeting, was genuine. The people clapped, thumps on tables shaking the cutlery, and Abby grinned at him. Aegon looked taken aback by the well tidings, the shouts of wishes for good health and good fortune. The hand that he had rested on her knee tightened and Aegon straightened in his seat, smiling back and giving a wave of thanks as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him.

The King continued, “The Queen and I also honor House Strong this night. Since my ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, landed upon these shores, the Strongs have been a leal and loyal house. Ser Osmund Strong himself was the longest serving Hand, and through the decades, this family has proved themselves time and again, their fealty to the throne and their dedication to the realm. It is why upon the passing of the beloved Princess Rhaena, that my grandfather, King Jaehaerys, bestowed the great Harrenhal to House Strong. It is this dedication that before he passed, our late Lord Lyonel Strong, the Seven keep him, agreed to a proposal. We welcome you all to celebrate with House Targaryen and House Strong as I announce the betrothal of our son, Prince Aegon, to the Lady Abrogail Strong, and their investiture as the future Lord and Lady of Harrenhal, under the wise and clement eye of Grover Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.”

The whispers of the betrothal had already snaked their way through the keep over the past weeks. First the servants gossip, then the unofficial talks among the lords who had, by now, sent ravens back home to their holdings in the Riverlands. It was news that had passed naturally among the realm, and while Abby did not see any surprised faces, the cheers that roared up took her by surprise. The slamming fists on the tables, the clapping, the shouts of well wishes and even some crass remarks was not at all what she had expected. She felt her cheeks burn and the flush of it snake across all the exposed skin of her gown. She yearned for the coverings of her linen gowns so none could see how red she had turned at the attention.

Yet, Abby did nothing to hide how large her smile was, so wide it nearly hurt. She met Aegon’s eyes, his own grin crinkling the corners of his eyes, and she never, ever wanted to see him frown again if this was how bright his smile could be. He then looked at the crowd and she followed suit, waving at the smiling faces, blowing a kiss of thanks to all. She did not startle when Aegon lifted his hand from her knee to tuck beneath the fall of her curls and rest along the back of her neck in a possessive gesture that made her belly roil with heat. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and saw that his bright smile had set into something darker, more firm.

The feast began, servants coming out of the shadows. Trenchers of roast pork in red wine and plum sauce were placed before them, steaming with scents of ginger and cinnamon. Shrimp cooked in fennel and white wine steamed from large platters, boiled eggs cut and stuffed with fragrant cheese and herbs nestled among salads of other fresh herbs and greens. Abby gasped, admiring the hollowed out Stormland lemons with glistening pieces of Dornish blood oranges and lemon sticky with sugar dotted the table in pops of bright, delectable color.

Aegon was eagerly filling his plate with the roast pork he so adored, and she reached for one of the sour orange treats, popping a sticky piece of fruit into her mouth and hoping it calmed the knot of nerves that were growing insistently.

“They certainly spared no expense,” Corynna’s voice was soft at her side. Abby glanced over at her sister who was commenting on the wine being poured to her husband. Her sister was as beautiful as she was sharp, resplendent in the colors of House Lannister, a ruby red gown that set off her golden skin, and an overdress of golden silk. Her brunette curls were tamed and pulled back into a low bun at the base of her neck, encased in a jeweled net of gold and rubies, a heavy lion pendant hanging from her throat. She decided not to engage with her sister’s low commentary, for it was exactly what she wanted, and instead busied herself on the treat in front of her.

“Here.” Abby glanced at Aegon, who held his fork up with a piece of pork. She opened her mouth to decline, and he popped the piece in with that dangerous smirk flashing across his mouth before going back to his food. It was good, the spark of ginger cutting through the sweetness of the plum. It had also served to get her mind off the fact that they were eating at the head table, and she let her gaze drift, ignoring her sister’s tut of disapproval.

Abby caught Baela looking at them curiously. She was beautiful that evening in the colors of her mother’s house. The aquamarine gown was cut in the Pentoshi style like the previous one she wore to their family dinner, with a deep v cut into the bodice and the layers of fabric pinned like a chiton at her shoulders. On her head she wore a silver tiara shaped into the heads of seahorses with matching gemstones for their eyes. Abby gave the princess a small smile. “You look lovely tonight, Princess. I am truly glad to have you here and I look forward to us getting to know one another.”

Baela’s violet eyes narrowed somewhat at being addressed, and Abby felt Aegon shift beside her as he honed in on the conversation. “May your futures be bright and happy, Lady Abrogail. Cousin.”

“Thank you, cousin,” Aegon replied with his tight smile. “Perhaps it will be your nuptials we’ll be celebrating next.” The words were friendly, at least somewhat so. Abby suppressed a sigh, but knew it was at least a small win. Baela did not seem to mind sitting next to Daeron, for the pair of them had fallen into a discussion about their dragons and how Tessarion had fared in Oldtown. “I heard Mother wondering if her and Jace will wed next.”

Jacaerys.

Abby chanced another look at the incredibly awkward end of the table. There was the queen, then Lord Otto, then Larys, and then… Aemond, Helaena, and Jace. The three of them were utterly silent, like mimes in a play, and it was hard to tell what made it worse: the fact that Aemond and Jace had ended up wearing near matching doublets that evening, or the sapphire sun that was Helaena between them.

Aemond and Jace and Baela should have been separated, but Jace could not sit next to her, for the rumors that would cause and so poor Helaena was stuck as the wall to separate them.

She looked every inch the beautiful princess from a song. Her silver hair hung loose and free down her back with four braids keeping her hair from her face. The twists wound themselves into the silver tiara she wore, the sapphires winking out like stars from the woven metal strands that took the place of her usual braid. Her gown was diaphanous silk, her shoulders bared. The sleeves were a light blue and the sheer fabric hugged her arms. The gown went from a lovely sky blue to a deeper shade of twilight along the hem, and the silver embroidery evoked silver flames dancing across the gown. She wore the colors of Dreamfyre, dragonrider that she was, the princess of House Targaryen that did not need to evoke her house colors to state her place in the world.

The look on her face was blank and somewhat wide-eyed, focused on the shrimp in front of her. Abby’s heart ached, wanting to go to her and get her out of the situation she was in, but there was nothing for it. Helaena already grew anxious with crowds and she didn’t need the extra stress of being caught between two petulant looking boys.

Jace tilted his head towards her, saying something that drew a small smile from Helaena, and the knot of worry eased slightly.

The course was cleared away, the minstrels along the side gallery merrily playing songs from each of the realms present there today. Currently it was a Westerlands tune, fewer drums than the melodies of the Crownlands, and Abby caught Lord Tyland’s head bobbing to the music from his place at his twin brother’s side.

The next course was brought out and it was the largest pie Abby had ever seen, along with pottage of wild hare and cabbage, roasted lamb smelling of caraway and fennel and thyme. There was roasted chicken in orange glaze. Her gaze returned to the pie. It was as big as a wagon wheel, the pastry crust browned and caramelized and surrounded by many smaller pies like a crown. The crusts were slivered all around and gilt in gold along the top, and she could smell the saffron and cloves. They were stuffed to the bursting with more eggs and mixed meats and smelled delicious, but Abby’s stomach was knotted with nerves combined with the heady twist of arousal that pulsed every time Aegon’s knee bumped hers, or the way he’d tap his fingers upon her wrist to make sure she was alright.

Aegon inclined his head towards her, waving the servant away and pushing his plate between them. “You’re not eating. We’ll share.” He even pressed his goblet into her hand, taking hers and sipping from it in such an intimate gesture that Abby’s nerves were utterly forgotten about in that moment. She took a sip from his goblet, unsure of what to say. Aegon raised an eyebrow at her. “Eat,” he ordered and she knocked her slippered foot against his boot.

“You’re eating enough for the both of us, Prince. I couldn’t possibly keep up with you.” His appetite was a voracious one, and the plate he’d pushed between them had already started inching back towards him. She stabbed a piece of meat and gave him a look as she ate. He looked only somewhat abashed and popped a piece of crust in his mouth, licking juice from his fingers. She was reminded of the lakeside picnic, and the way his lips felt against her fingers while she fed him, the blushing heat as he fed her cakes in return and the kisses shared.

It must have shown on her face because a wicked gleam flashed across his eyes, gaze drifting to the low neckline of her gown and the gentle swell of her breasts. A voracious appetite indeed. He laughed when she busied herself with her goblet.

“Everyone is staring,” she whispered, unsure if she was chastising him or reminding him. Aegon’s gaze raked along the bare expanse of her shoulders, his hand twitching along his stolen goblet as if he was keeping himself from reaching for her again.

“Of course they are, hunītsos. Let them. Let them see how happy you look.” His gaze grew uncertain for a moment and she understood what words he held back.

“How happy you make me,” she offered softly. It was finally Aegon’s turn to blush, the expression uncharacteristically shy, and Abby could not help but lean over to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. Satisfaction was bright in her chest when his blush deepened before his own satisfaction crossed his features.

Let them witness. Let Edmund Vance and whatever moody River Lord conspired against them see that Aegon was hers, claimed by the rivers.

“Prince Aegon,” Erwin called halfway through the following course - mutton and stag and boar drenched in plum and wine sauces, brown sauces, and surrounded with dates and figs. The youngest Lannister brother was a gleaming gold lion, square faced with bright green eyes. He was not lanky as Lord Tyland nor as haughty as Lord Jason. He was a third son, bred for battle, and while he did not appear to cross swords with her sister, Abby wondered if that was a battle he had no desire to engage in. “I hear you’ll be participating in the melee on the morrow. Do you wield a morning star like Ser Criston, then? Or perhaps a battle ax?”

Corynna tutted, leaning back with exaggeration so her husband might speak. “It was only a matter of time before we talked swords.”

“The Prince is admirable with his sword skills, Erwin,” Abby piped up proudly before Aegon could speak, her turn to boast of him as he had done for her.

Aegon’s hand rested along the back of her chair as he leaned over with a grin on his face. “Some could say. It’ll either come down to skill or my lady’s favor, should she grant me. Mayhaps I’ll have the good fortune of meeting you in the ring?”

“Everyone knows the joust is where one proves themselves,” Baela cut in.

“Prince Daemon was quite impressive with his blade in the last tourney I saw him in, just as he was with a lance,” Erwin said with ease and a smile. “All the bouts require their own skills and strength.”

The conversation of the small tourney for tomorrow kept on, with Daeron joining in. Abby ignored her sister’s displeased muttering and her husband did as well. Perhaps that’s how the peace was kept in their household.

As the dessert course came out, those in attendance began to move about the room. No doubt they were eager to speak of the confirmation of what had been announced, judging by all the gazes that flitted in their direction. There were her favorite strawberry and cream cakes just out of reach, but she found that she had no appetite for the rich confection with the nervous energy building. Instead, she snagged a piece of marchpane dragon off Aegon’s piled plate of treats. He playfully snapped at her as if he was going to bite at her hand before handing her a marchpane crown without comment.

She leaned towards Aegon, brushing his ear and delighting in how he shivered at the contact. Her fingers tapped against his arm. “I’m going to speak to Wylla.”

He reached up to snatch at her wrist. “Stay,” he murmured, eyes searching her face. Don’t leave me alone next to him, she knew he was asking. Abby shook her head.

“We have to mingle, Aeg, We can’t sit up here all night.” He rolled his eyes and Abby tutted. “Go rescue Helaena.”

Aegon glanced down at the miserable end of the table and they spied Gwayne having come up, a hand braced on Aemond’s shoulder as he spoke to Larys and his father. “I’m surprised Aemond hasn’t stabbed him yet,” Aegon muttered and gave a nod. “Is this to be our duty now, my lady?”

Abby scrunched her face up in amusement and took his offered hand to rise from her chair. “Aye, it shall be, my lord. Save me a dance.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and they parted, Aegon going to join his uncle and siblings at the end of the table. She tilted her head, admiring him as he walked from her before heading towards Baela.

When Abby looked at Baela, she was reminded by the statue of Visenya that Aemond favored so in the gardens, or the tapestries that hung in the upper levels of the gallery: women who rode the skies with braids twisted into their long hair, the fierce and determined looks on their faces showing their command of the world. Targaryens were the closest one came to gods in Westeros. This fact Abby had grown with all her life. Everyone in Westeros did. She saw how the smallfolk clamored for the affections and attentions of the dragonriders during parades, the furrowed brows of the septons who disliked the competition to the Seven.

“Princess,” Abby gave the other a bright, welcoming smile. “Come with me, I have someone to properly introduce you to.” There was deference in her tone that Baela was owed, but Abby also clung to the reminder that she was to be a princess too. They would be equals in a few months, and the Queen wanted her to grow accustomed to this fact.

Baela, her lovely, violet eyes narrowed in her direction, seemed to have other ideas. Abby had asked Helaena the other evening what it was that Baela had said in Valyrian, and the princess had only said that she should not worry, for she did not believe Baela would speak so carelessly in the future. The other woman held her gaze, assessing in the way Abby was sure her dragon, Moondancer, would assess and Abby swallowed past the lump of nerves beneath the gaze. She realized after a moment that it was one of uncertainty. It had initially felt hostile - which considering whatever Valyrian she’d spoken upon arrival had been clearly hostile, it made sense - but it had also become clear that the princess was uncomfortable and therefore more judgemental, Abby thought, than she might normally be. At least, Abby hoped that was the case.

“You have people to introduce me to, Lady Abrogail?” The disdain was not obvious, and Abby wondered if this was what it meant to be unaccepted by the Valyrians. The family had kept to themselves since the landing. She had studied the Targaryen family tree in her studies and knew how rarely they married out of the houses. ‘The blood of the dragon must remain pure’, was stated when they’d learned about the Doctrine of Exceptionalism that allowed the practice of incest, and outlawed the multiple wives that The Conqueror and King Maegor had taken.

Would Aegon have wanted multiple wives? Would he have wanted someone more Valyrian to make him feel closer to his heritage? The curious thought flitted through her mind, and Abby felt a stab of jealousy at the idea of such a scenario, along with an uncertainty she couldn’t quite identify, but similar to the feeling of otherness that she found herself experiencing among the company of the other Riverlanders.

“I do. I hope, very much so, that your time here in the capital will be as comfortable as possible. I understand that it must be quite the change from Dragonstone, and the company of the rest of your siblings.” Baela said nothing at first, lips pressed in a thin line before looking down the table. Abby followed her gaze.

Jace and Helaena had a series of tarts and other confections in front of them, and Helaena was laughing brightly at the marchpane tentacles rising from a plum tart. Jace plucked one of them, slathered in cream to take a bite, offering the piece to Helaena who shook her head in amusement and reached for one of the candied lemons.

Aegon had pulled his brother away with a firm grip on his shoulder and the pair of them had headed towards the floor, goblets in hand with heads bowed towards each other. They were accompanied by some of the other young men at court; the Fossoway boys, Ser Leo Costayne, brother to Lord Owen, and their cousin, Lyonel Hightower, heir to the Oldtown seat.

Ser Leo was the eldest at over twenty, his almond eyes from his mother’s Lyseni heritage striking with the silver hair of Valyria that spread across the empire. He had already earned the title of The Sea Lion, the West taking pride in their own fierce seafarer as House Velaryon did with The Sea Snake, Lord Corlys. Little Floris had found him handsome, blushing when her avid gaze had been pointed out by Helaena. Abby had found herself readily agreeing.

At four and ten, Lyonel was as tall as Aemond with the promise to be taller, with the same cut cheekbones Abby could see was a Hightower feature, while Alicent, Aegon, and Helaena shared the soft roundness of their Reyne mother. His skin was swarthy from his Dondarrion mother, a contrast with his lighter brown hair. Her eyes drifted to the group of ladies, colors of the Reach and Westerlands in their clothes, and how they clearly were eyeing Prince Aemond, who was doing his best to pretend to be above it.

Far better for their attention than that of Cassandra Baratheon, who was stoically sitting by her heavy set father, face flushed with wine and quietly hissing at his eldest daughter. An unbidden pang of sympathy pulsed through Abby’s heart at how unhappy the other woman looked, momentarily overriding her displeasure.

Abby turned her gaze back to Baela, whose own eyes were sweeping the mass of people before them. She wondered if the rumor was true of a possible betrothal between Jacaerys and Baela, the future king and queen of the realm. Dragonriders both, in the Targaryen ways of old like Aegon and his wives, like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. She wondered if it had happened already and was simply unannounced, Rhaenyra waiting for the most opportune moment. Or perhaps the pair were simply siblings, mayhaps promises made out of stubborn pride. Would that explain Baela’s disdain for them? Did she see them as interlopers in a place that she considered her birthright by conquest and the Valyrian blood flowing through her?

Baela finally rose, fluid and graceful and confident in all the ways that Abby still found it difficult to be. The other woman stood a few inches taller - not a difficult feat by any means, but Abby was envious of the graceful turn of her neck. She was reminded of the descriptions of Visenya: comfortable in silks as she was in armor. What a sight the other would make upon dragonback with a war cry tearing from her. How confident Baela Targaryen was;in her sense of self, her place in the world, in all that made her Valyrian.

It struck Abby then how she did not feel like a child of the Riverlands no matter what she claimed. It felt as if she were spinning falsehoods into a cloak to shroud herself in, to distract from her own sense of confusion. As they approached the closer table where her Uncle Simon sat with the Brackens, listening to the conversation blend before her in the lilt and familiar cadence of the Riverlands, Abby found herself feeling like an outsider. It had not quite been like this at the welcoming feast those weeks ago, where they spoke the language of the capital. Her mother tongue had been one lost to her over the years since her father died, relegated to the dinner table and bedtime stories, of ephemeral memories of lullabies long sung. To hear Wylla’s own northern brogue share in the words of Old Tongue falling in a similar harmony, panic settled in Abby’s chest to find that she couldn’t quite keep up with the words exchanged.

The panic was frozen when Wylla turned her head, and all at the table gave move to rise and give their courtesies to Princess Baela. Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Baela shift a little, felt the whisper of silks brush against her. “This is Lady Wylla Karstark, from Karhold,” Abby introduced, her voice coming out higher than she intended as she forced past the lump in her throat. Wylla rose, nodding to her brother who was also getting up to speak with some of the other lords.

“Princess Baela, I hope you’re enjoying the festivities.”

Baela inclined her head but said nothing.

“She is my dearest friend and also far from home. Also quite the archer.” Abby reached for things that Baela might find intriguing and welcoming, hoping her instincts weren’t wrong.

Wylla shook her head slightly. “You are too kind, Lady,” she lightly teased with the use of the title.

Baela’s head cocked, the tinkling of the silver charms in her hair soft among the din of the room. “My, all that snow and ice. It’s a wonder you do not melt beneath the dragon’s heat,” Baela said and the challenge was clear in her voice.

Wylla smiled in her sharp way, ever the winter fox. “As a daughter of fire and sea, I would assume you to be well acquainted with contradictions. One must burn hot to survive the cold.”

Baela actually smiled at that and Abby took the chance. “Wylla is a far better archer than I, Princess. I hear you yourself are well acquainted with the bow.” Wylla’s storm gray eyes flitted to her and Abby did everything she could not to shift awkwardly beneath her friend’s gaze. Not in this dress, and not with the sunburst tiara that graced her head. Instead, she grinned back at her. The princess merely glanced back at her before shifting closer to Wylla.

“Do you hunt, Lady Wylla? I hear there’s to be a hunt later this week and I do so miss hawking…”

Abby released a soft breath, pressing a grateful squeeze to Wylla’s shoulder before moving on to her aunt and uncle. Her cousin, Gareth, had stayed behind at Harrenhal, and she had fuzzy memories of her Aunt Mya. The older woman was plump and warm, brushing a soft kiss with a greeting. The din of the throne room grew louder as the meal came to an end, servants dashing between the party goers, removing plates and replacing carafes of wine and small foods for guests to continue to indulge in. The music shifted to a more lively fair and the dance floor quickly filled with eager revelers.

Lythene Ryger of Willow Wood had drawn her into the shy gaggle of maidens who were standing expectantly along the edge of the dance floor, trading glances across the room at the lords and Abby had noticed the looks they’d thrown in Aemond’s direction. Lady Lythene was five and ten, soft featured with honey brown eyes, her strawberry blonde hair woven with strands of river pearls in the common half knot coil that was common in the Riverlands.

“If Lord Yorick were here, none of these men would have a chance to win tomorrow,” Melony Piper said, all dark hair and more freckles than one could count. “My sister says he was the most fearsome knight not so long ago.”

“Psh,” Lythene rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows Ser Gwayne is a force to be reckoned with. Besides, Lord Yorick never leaves Runestone and if he did, Lord Borros would throw a fit.” She looked smug with the knowledge imparted and whatever look on Abby’s face seemed to spur her on. She leaned in. “Lord Yorick is married to Lord Borros’ younger sister with a son of their own. Should Lady Elenda not have a son, it’s said his sister may push one of her son’s claims to Storm’s End.”

As one, their eyes swiveled in the direction of Cassandra Baratheon, perfectly coiffed, and everything the daughter of a Lord Paramount would be. Raven hair wild as storm clouds around her bare shoulders, her golden dress sparkling in the dancing torchlight with an opal the size of Abby’s fist nestled in the hollow of her throat. Abby’s hands twitched, smoothing over the cloud of blue and green silk organza, the golden dragons and weirwood leaves embroidered over her bodice.

A warm hand touched her wrist and Abby met the gentle, honey eyes of Lythene, who smiled up at her. “Tá cuma álainn ort, a bhean,” she said softly while the others tittered. It took Abby a moment to register the words, “you look beautiful, my lady”, and Abby smiled shyly.

“Go raibh maith agat,” she thanked her and Lythene bit her lip as if holding back a chuckle.

“Agat,” she pronounced softly, the inflection different. “A little closer to got, and less like goat.”

Her cheeks burned and she repeated it softly and Lythene took her hand, squeezing it. “I can’t imagine you get to practice with many people here in the South,” she laughed, a tinkling like bells that drew the attention of other men.

“I haven’t. I’m looking forward to getting to speak it more, but I can’t get that sort of practice teaching Aeg- Prince Aegon.”

“You mean he’s actually going to try learning our tongue?” came the aggressive disbelief of Lady Melony. “Targaryens aren’t ones to debase themselves so.”

Lythene opened her mouth but Abby cut in, a frown slashed across her face. “Aegon is a Targaryen and a Hightower, a family that traces their lineage and impact to before the First Men, some say.” She tilted her head, exhaling softly and shook her head. “The Targaryens may be above us due to the gifts of the dragon, but you can be assured that Prince Aegon will take his duties seriously.”

She was reminded of the words Edmund had sneered at her, of how none would trust a dragon coming into the Riverlands and it was foolish to think so. Lythene said nothing, watching her curiously while Melony Piper’s bright green eyes narrowed somewhat, thin mouth pursed. Abby’s grandmother had been a Piper, which made the two of them kin.

Seven and the Old Gods help her if Aegon did not live up to her promise, but Abby trusted that he would. That he would, at the very least, try.

Melony opened her mouth to speak again but murmurs danced through the crowd, attention towards the dance floor. Abby looked over her shoulder in surprise.

Jace led Helaena by the hand to the crowd of dancers as the next song started, fingers touching as they circled around one another. She was a glittering, blue dragon amidst the crowd, hair like mercury as it flowed around her. Helaena loved to dance and the joy was obvious on her soft features, Jace’s own smile a shy one, his broad frame more obvious as he circled around her. Not as tall as Aemond, but Jace would grow taller yet.

“Well,” Melony’s attention had changed. “That’s an interesting development.”

Abby’s eyes instinctively cut to the queen where she sat at the King’s right, a slight furrow to her brow, and the Lord Hand beside her, his attention also on the pair dancing. A fond smile cut across Otto Hightower’s face as Helaena laughed when Jace spun her, and Abby wasn’t at all sure what to make of it.

Helaena looked happy, though, and that was all that mattered.

Abby startled at the feeling of a warm hand stroking against her elbow and Aegon’s laughter was soft as he stroked his fingers down her arm in a way that had goosebumps flaring across her skin. His fingers twined with hers and the ladies around her bobbed curtsies, murmuring My Prince and Your Grace.

“You all look like you’re having so much fun here, but I must steal my betrothed away,” Aegon said, his voice light and amused, in his element as the center of attention and even more dangerous without drink to cloud his senses. Abby felt the heated flush creep along her throat when Aegon tugged her into him. “I promised you a dance, didn’t I, Lady Abrogail?”

Lythene looked amused, Melony uncertain and Abby turned under Aegon’s arm so that she was facing him. “You did, my Prince. Thank you for the conversation, Lady Lythene, Lady Melony,” she thanked as Aegon began tugging her away. “It was good to meet you.”

Everything else drifted away when Aegon pulled her into his arms. The contrast to the last time they’d danced together was palpable. There was no anger between them, no confusion, no fear. He twirled her as he drew her into the space as if he were showing her off, her skirt flaring around her, rippling greens and blues like the rivers of her home, the candlelight glimmering along the golden threaded dragons on her gown, and the citrine bursts along her tiara. When Aegon pulled her into him, she could feel the heat of his body barely pressed against her, the flush of it coursing through her with every hammering beat of her heart.

“I wish we were somewhere more quiet,” Abby murmured to him as they turned around one another, clapping their hands before reaching for each other again. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Aemond tugging Wylla on the floor, her friend caught between surprise and a pleased flush along her cheeks. Abby would have to tease her later, in return for how merciless Wylla had teased her.

“Do you?” Aegon asked, grinning at her, eyes full of heat. “We could, you know. It is my nameday.”

“We’ll be caught, and I’d rather your mother not find us,” she chuckled, spinning away from him to turn around Lord Tyland, who smiled down at her indulgently while Aegon politely moved around Lady Johanna Westerling, Tyland’s goodsister and dance partner. Her gaze kept pulling back to Aegon whenever they were separated in the dances, and when they came back together, there was an ache in her chest that she could not identify. Relief? Want? Longing?

Everything?

“Remind me to get you a map of the tunnels,” he murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss against her temple and she couldn’t help the bubbling of giggles that escaped her. Aegon looked incredibly pleased with himself, and as the next song started, he pulled her closer to him, hands possessive on her hips as he lifted her in the air and spun her around.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked. Then it clicked. “What, so I can sneak to your room?”

Aegon winked at her. “Clever girl.”

“I try.”

As Abby turned, her eyes caught on the furious, dark gaze of Edmund Vance across the hall, accompanied by Lord Piper and some of the other River Lords. Abby blanched, the joy she had felt abating like water on a fire at the ugly look in his eyes. So distracted, she was, that she stumbled her steps of the complicated dance, nearly falling had Aegon not pulled her to him in time. She saw his gaze follow hers, his own smile morphing into a hard look.

“I’ve taken care of it.” Abby didn’t understand, trying to find the steps again without ruining the entire dance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Aegon’s hand brushed soothing along her arm, his other hand warm on her waist and giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Focus on me, eyes on me, hunītsos.” His voice was gentle and firm all at once, quiet and earnest and Abby focused on the sound of it, her gaze finding his, softened now. “Aemond saved me from making a scene, but I’ve handled it.” He tilted his head. “I don’t need to take his hands.”

Abby struggled to find words, a strange and unfamiliar thrill coursing through her that she could not examine too closely in the moment. “And what have you decided to take instead?”

As the dance came to a close, Aegon reached up to cup the softness of her cheek, tilting her head back with his thumb on her lower lip. He leaned in, mouth brushing against hers, and the vow he made was full of promise.

“His pride,” he murmured, and kissed her in front of the realm to seal it.

What was your favorite moment of the chapter? What's something you're looking forward to? Any fun theories!? I'd love to hear your thoughts on what you're enjoying about Maiden and any curiosities you might have! And if you're not sure what to say, just a kind reblog with a heart or something would be lovely <3

[Chapter Fifteen]

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