[fhrlclln]

welcome, my lovelies 🧸୭ :⋆*･ﾟ

ABOUT ⋆ ˚｡⋆

• my name is ericka, 21, she/her

• multi-fandom

• kinda lazy writer

• 18+ smut fics

• mostly fem! & gn! reader

• currently writing for whoever i got the hots on lmao

• 🇵🇭

• dragon age fanatic ⚔️

• if u see a bald elf in my blog, yes im obsessed with him as well <3

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• please specify if you want a blurb or a long fic

• i usually don’t respond right away when it’s requests for imagines/fics !!

• even though if my fic requests are closed, you can always drop by and input your current thoughts & ideas !!

MASTERLIST & ONGOING FICS

• baelor targaryen masterlist

• maekar targaryen masterlist

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[fhrlclln]

Hellooooooo can I be tagged in any upcoming Robby fics, if you have a Robby taglist?!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

hi lovely!! i don’t have a taglist for robby as of now (i actually haven’t made any taglist HAHSHW) but i could tag you in my first robby fic that i’m currently writing once im done!! 😘😘

[fhrlclln]

hi so my ted talk and a couple few cigs had me going. 😣🫶

[fhrlclln]

i’ve read enough robby and jack fics to fully immerse myself in the pitt and their characterization. so… i have a few fic ideas for em.

(robby, jack 😣 let’s go to paris and do go to the eiffel tower ugh)

okay… for jack abbot i’m thinking about shy!reader who has a crush on him but who doesn’t want to act on it because of hr, work-romance relationship problem, and the fact that he’s your attending, so power dynamic problem! you made peace with it, of course, and you subconsciously build up a wall between you and jack. your interactions are mostly work, borderline acquaintances.

and the breaking point of this is when jack sees the side of his shy resident break one shift by a certain doctor… robby. HAGSHWHW. okay, maybe a tiny bit of reader x robby in there. you flirt, you’re talkative, almost relaxed when robby’s talking to you this one shift. and jack is suddenly aware of that, and thinks about why you’re the opposite with him. like is there something wrong? did he do something? because almost all of his residents don’t act the way you do. so he tries to find out in the most jack abbot way… tries to talk to you more (by what i mean is staring more and doesn’t notice he’s intimidating with it lol), but ultimately reader kinda panics in the inside and refuses to even meet his eyes because of this sudden shift. (like why is my attending crush suddenly trying to be close with me?) and blah, blah, maybe jack gets to know more of you through this and decides he wants to change your dynamic cuz he’s lowkey jealous in the inside of how you interact with robby. boom! messy and feelings all around (sexual tension heavy as well, and i’m still thinking about what messy breaking point i can do that’s hilarious… and smutty.

now for doctor michael robibemybitch, i’m thinking smut. literal smut. it’s all i can think of for him right now. and it’s the most bizarre smut scenario cuz i just watched a french erotic film lol.

like you’re his senior resident, all innocent presenting like the literal most sunshine and kind resident he’s known… and he suddenly meets you one lonely night (he’s miserable of course) in a sex shop (you know those sex shop that has peep shows and porno magazines like very 80’s type of shit) and sees you go into one of the booths for the peep shows (not necessarily live action but watching a porn movie), and he’s turned tf on.

he sees you the day after, the star resident that you are, and he can’t help but be intrigued and curious what else you’re hiding beneath this facade you have. and he lowkey wants to be the one you show your sexual side to him, but oh nooooo! he can’t, he’s your attending! boohoo. but that makes the sexual tension all the better when you catch him on a different night that he’s in the same sex shop with you. ensue to him trying to repress himself and shi, and you can’t take the sexual tension anymore. 🫪

okay, that’s all, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[fhrlclln]

my ole munch fic is now posted for all my maekar lovers out there 😉

[fhrlclln]

lamb of god | ole munch

SUMMARY -> a man is walking in the streets of the neighborhood alone and bloodied. the man’s ear is still bleeding because of the tiger that sunk her claws on his flesh… a lamb, however, finds the man wandering alone and offers rest in her house. the lamb doesn’t expect the series of events that changes her lonely life because of the man that long to be free of sin.

ole munch x fem!reader

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> not proof-read, religious (mostly catholicism and christianity) themes, smoking (im projecting here lol), violence and blood, protected p in v, mutual masturbation, and riding

WC -> 9.2k

a/n: fargo was so good! especially s1, 2 and… of course s5 😉 AND SO UNDERRATED ACTUALLY, WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT FARGO?? ole was definitely a peculiar character, and i mean the series itself does a good job in blending in supernatural stuff with its crime genre, and ole’s the cherry on top ugh 😩

smoke fills in your lungs as you exhale loudly. the taste of the cigarette smoke on your tongue is bitter but pleasant. the cold of minnesota never stops making you shiver despite moving here three years ago. but you liked the peace and eeriness the state has for some reason. and tonight was no different as you sit on your porch alone… but it’s lonely to be away from your family and hometown. california was the opposite, but always chaotic, work made you move here which was the reason. torrance was sunny and breezy, the beach and its nostalgia was something you remembered from time to time compared to the snow here. but it was life, and you were bound to experience this loneliness you expected. 

it’s almost halloween now, and compared to your home here in the suburbs, all the others were lit up with different decorations of skeletons, pumpkins, witches and more. what cozy homes, you think. your’s only had two pumpkins you carved out of the whim, and it looked dull and pathetic. 

is home now really your home? you wonder sometimes, wondered if moving here was really right. you miss your family, friends, the beach, the laughter, and all things that felt like home. 

and now… 

everyday you come from work with no one to talk to. sure, you made some friends from work, the local coffee shop, neighbors and that. it was childish you felt this way, longing for something that you knew was the expense of getting a better job. 

you tap the ashes of your cigarette on the ash tray.  you lean back against your chair, watching as you see a family come home with smiles on their faces. the wife kisses her husband on the porch, and their kids make fake sounds of disgust, and they all laugh as they go into their warm home. 

i want that. your mind suddenly says, and you take another hit of your cigarette, enjoying the nicotine buzz as you brush that thought away. the cold doesn’t help your sudden blue mood as you finally crush the cigarette out and just sit there… wondering again if you will ever feel the warmth of your home like theirs. 

a man… a man however… 

a man walks through the quiet suburbs with his ear still having that numb sting. blood still sticks to his hair as he looks around the quiet neighborhood. the man is still reeling in his anger about the tiger and roy’s lack of payment for him. he had what was needed, and he expected half to be paid for the injury of his flesh and the lack of information that the tiger had claws that were sharp. and the rabbit, the blasted son, has continued to poke at him thinking he has claws. 

pride is the original sin. 

the rabbit and his father are both filled with it along with countless others. the man can almost taste it on his tongue. the bitterness of countless sins he has eaten, pride has always been the foulest one. lucifer was cast out of heaven for it… and the man sees the same fate for both. 

only… 

humans were always looking for a way to make themselves escape from sin. 

and the man was the one who swallowed it all because there was nothing else to eat. 

the man’s nostril flares, he feels too weak. there’s no home he can go to, for it was across the seas. only, he had no home back there as well. the man stops, the burden on him weighs heavy as he looks at the quiet neighborhood. the man is looking for somewhere to stay for awhile… to lay low and think of what he can do to get his rightful payment. the scent of smoke catches his nose for a moment as he merely stands beneath the street light, pondering. 

you take another cigarette from your almost empty pack, it’s a toxic habit you’ve been trying to cut off, but you always seem to reach for it. putting it between your lips, you’re about to click your lighter open until the most peculiar sight makes you pause. 

the man stares up to the sky, wondering if god is looking down at him with pity. does god care for a sin-eater like him? would He take away the sins the man ate and let him walk free at last? the man has been on this desolate earth for far too long that he doesn’t remember what it feels like to have a body that functions normally. he is a wandering soul trapped in sin, forever forced to roam the land with no other purpose. 

did lucifer felt the same as him when he fell from the heavens? did he as well crave to go back home? 

“h-hiya?” 

the man blinks, hearing a meek voice call for him. 

“are you lost, sir? i couldn’t help but notice you were standing there for so long.” 

the man’s head turned to the woman’s- no… 

a lamb. 

a meek lamb. 

you laugh awkwardly as the strange man stares at you silently. you’re suddenly thinking that this was a dumb idea that you approached him. but he looked lost, and you thought he might have been having a problem for how long he’s been standing there. the strange man, whose face you can now properly see, blue eyes stare at you… questioning. he’s tall, unique haircut, and… blood on the side of his face- 

“are you alright?” you ask, worried, gesturing to his ear. “that looks like a nasty cut. d-do you want to wait out on my porch so i can call someone? maybe your family?” 

the lamb looks at the man like he’s… he doesn’t know what to describe it as he observes your face. the lamb’s brows are furrowed, eyes raking his form, checking if he has any other injuries. the lamb then gives her name, and he remembers it. 

“my house is right there. at least let me look at your wound…” the lamb points to the white house, and he follows your gesture. the lamb then quietly ushers him, and he follows… 

“a-are you from around here?” you ask again, hoping to get some information out of him. “this is a big neighborhood.” you chuckle as you glance back at him. “wouldn’t be the first time someone got lost here, ‘ya know?” 

the man doesn’t answer again, but stands awkwardly on your porch. the lamb gives him a small smile, gesturing to the chair. 

“sit, please, while i look for something to clean your cut. wouldn’t want it to be infected.” the lamb pleads, but the man merely stares at something. and your eyes follow his silent gaze to your… cigarettes. 

oh. 

“d-do you smoke?” the man finally looks at you again. “do you want one? feel free, please.” 

the lamb scurries to grab the pack of malboros, fishing one out, presenting it to him. the man looks at the cigarette then to the lamb, and he takes it. the lamb gestures to her lighter, and the man puts the cigarette between his lips, leaning forward as the lamb lights his cigarette with ease. he inhales, puffing out the first hit before inhaling again, the smoke filling in his lungs and the buzz that comes next makes his shoulders… relax. 

“thank you.” the man finally says, and the lamb looks surprised. the lamb merely smiles, and a tug inside him confuses the man for a moment. the man then waits for the lamb’s next move, always expecting something. 

“you’re welcome. always need a cigarette now and then to calm the nerves. d-do you have someone in mind to call? while i find some bandages and some iodine?” the lamb asks again, and he stares at you. wondering how you’re not scurrying to call the police or that, but you chose to ask him if he had anyone to call to. and offering to clean his bloodied appendage. 

the man is… intrigued. 

the man’s next words solidify the thought brewing in him as he admires the easy and soft look on the lamb’s face. 

kindness was not something he was given to all the time. 

“i live here… now.” 

・゜゜・．

the mysterious man that ended up on your porch was a strange turning point after the mundane week you had. his accent was not from here, that you can tell, it was a mix between something english… and old? you could not explain it. the cut on his ear was indeed nasty, but luckily didn’t need any stitching so you just cleaned it and bandaged it. you try to ask him what happened, but he seemed to tense at that, so you let it go. it was strange, of course, that he said he lived here now. you thought he was just pertaining to staying the night… but no. 

you tried asking him if he had anywhere to go… and the answers he gave were quite cryptic to understand at first. 

“a man is far from home…” he merely says when you let him inside after he finished his cigarette, worried that he’ll freeze since he was just wearing a wool sweater… and a kilt. huh. 

“oh, so you’re not around here, then?” you busy yourself making some hot cocoa for him and yourself. something to warm yourself up and ask again if he has someone to call for. you’re worried he has a family looking for him. he doesn’t answer as you look back at him. 

“i-i’m not really from around here too, ‘ya know?” you can’t help but share with him. you don’t know why. you always liked chattering around with people, part of your job as well. being a clerk in a hospital has its ups and downs, but you always manage to be friendly and kind. you never know when someone needs it is your motto everyday. 

“i grew up in california. and before you ask why minnesota, well it’s because of my job-“ you continue to ramble while the man behind you stands idly by the kitchen counter. touching his bandaged ear from time to time. 

but back to the topic now… 

“l-look, i’m all for helping you, but… uh, don’t you have anyone looking for you? they might be worried.” you tell him the day after when you were spooked the hell out when he appeared by the kitchen as you’re leaving for work. like he just appeared in mid-air. 

“trade.” the man says instead of answering you. “a man offers… trade for the lamb’s home. for refuge for a moment.” 

“trade, you say?” you’re… confused who’s he pertaining to a lamb. and your reaction seems to make the man’s eyes light up. your reaction not being out of fear. 

“yes.” the man says it like he’s happy to know you understand... in some way. 

“w-what kind of trade, then?” 

“a trade will be made, that is certain.” he merely says, and you’re trying to decipher what he meant, really. 

“i…” you don’t know what to say. he’s peculiar, and you’re not sure what his intentions are now, but you don’t really get a bad impression from what he’s offering. “…well, i don’t know your name. and this is a lot of trust you’re asking when i don’t know who you are-“ 

“munch.” 

“monk?” 

“ole munch.” 

“oolah monk?” you repeat again, it sounded so foreign you’re pretty sure it’s scandinavian or norwegian or something. “well, it’s nice to finally know your name, ole.” 

there’s a long stretch of silence when you expect him to say something. but he doesn’t, he just looks at you, waiting for your answer. you awkwardly fix your bag on your shoulder before finally speaking up again. might probably be the strangest morning you ever had. 

“i don’t want to kick you out, it’s freezing out there. and… uhm… i don’t know what problems you’re having. b-but if you say you’re just staying for awhile… well, it’s just me in this house you’ll bother, then… okay?” you again don’t know why you agreed. maybe you’re just too kind. “just promise me you’ll bring no trouble in this home.” 

the man stares at you again, this time his brows furrow for a moment. you don't know whether to leave now for work, considering you’re almost late. 

“you say trouble…” he begins. “trouble follows men long before they arrive.” 

another riddle. 

“that’s supposed to assure me?” you ask, wondering what he meant by that. was he running away from something? or someone?

the man says nothing in return. 

which somehow makes it stranger than before. 

you clear your throat, hyperaware that this situation has become more bizarre than what you expected of letting a stranger- an injured stranger in your home. and you agreed to let him stay despite warning signs that should be clear that he might be in trouble. 

or maybe you’re over-analyzing the situation. 

you don’t know. 

“okay…” you breathe out, looking at your phone out of habit to check the time. “we’ll talk more when i get back from work, okay? i just… well- this is all so bizarre right now. it’s not everyday i willingly let someone in my home.” 

the man stays silent again, and you’re about to leave before remembering you need to feed him after all. 

“oh, i made some pancakes. just heat them up in the microwave, and there’s juice in the fridge.” you point to the plate of fresh pancakes on the kitchen island. the man’s expression shifts for a moment, lightened by the mere word of ‘pancakes.’ that you just offered freely. the man nods, and you leave, feeling a little out of place for a moment. 

・゜゜・．

you never knew a weirder week in your life than what has been happening now. the man in your home was like a phantom, a tall and ominous phantom, always appearing from time to time, yet you never felt his presence completely. you had talked to him again about his ‘stay’ in your house. you mostly spewed out that he can use your guest room for the time being, and he mostly stayed silent like always. merely watching your every move with that stoic face he always puts on. 

you’re pretty sure you’ve gone mad that you’re housing a man with little to no information about him at all other than his name. 

sometimes, you’ll find him in his room, just sitting on his bed while he smokes your cigarettes. you had kindly asked him to open the window, at least, and you don’t know if he heard you or not. other times he’d appear when you’re in the kitchen, making breakfast, and he seems to show up when you’re making pancakes. 

other times… you’re kind of worried he doesn’t eat at all other than pancakes you make. 

he keeps his distance, you’ll give him that, but sometimes you’d check up on him from time to time. and he seems to disappear and you’re left wondering if you heard him go out the door. but when he’s looming behind you, you can’t help but speak about your day. 

it was refreshing… a nice change that you got someone to talk to after work. no matter how weird the situation was.

“… you know, i can’t believe someone would willingly shove something in their butt! it was so bizarre, and the poor man’s face was so red that he had to lay flat on his stomach while they wheeled him in.” you rambled as you flicked through the channels. the man sits on the other end, looking at your television as you continue to rant about your day. 

“it certainly made my day. it was a slow shift before he came in. i thought he was just complaining about a stomach ache. but martha always says that the most normal looking person always has the freakiest kinks.” you settle on the game show that you always binged on then you turn to him. “do you think so?” 

the man looks at you, and he seems to think about it which makes you let out an awkward laugh. 

“who am to say, really? we all got some weird kink still hidden inside us.” you shrug as you lean back on your couch. “i’m starving. you want some pizza? i can order.” 

it’s absurd how you talk to him like he’s been living here for a long time. like he’s your friend. the man doesn’t answer you, but watches the game show, looking curiously. 

“i’ll take that as a yes, then.” you mumble before grabbing your phone. you glance at him, watching him for a second, they way the tv screen shined on his eyes, your gaze trails to his side profile. the bandage you put on him is still there. 

and he’s still wearing his long sleeves and kilt, you had offered him some clothes he can wear. you think the clothes you gave him might be too snug on him. he’s a large man… and you make a note to buy some men’s clothing once you go grocery shopping. 

“is pepperoni okay?” you habitually ask, and you really don’t mind that he doesn’t respond.

the man merely stares at the contestant winning a prize for spinning the big gigantic wheel of colors. it was so peculiar to him, how luck seemed to be the key factor for the people playing the game to drive their hopes. but it was all planned, wasn’t it? it doesn’t take long for him to notice the disparities in how this ‘game’ works. only one was destined to win it, and yet the others didn't. the way their faces crumbled, they way the man hosting it only offers them a pat on the shoulder and lets them leave with fake sincerity. 

like a humiliation ritual it was. 

but it seems everyone likes to watch it. 

“oh wow, she won that fancy new car and the cash prize.” the lamb says, looking awed. “wish i had that car, it’s got that fancy touchscreen thingy.”

the man turns to the lamb slowly. 

the lamb looks at the glowing box, mesmerized by the mere fact someone had won something the lamb wanted. it’s peculiar to him, how the lamb feels joy for this- for someone. the man does not understand where the lamb’s unrelenting kindness comes from. he does not understand how freely the lamb let him. but what he does understand now is how the lamb has been living in this home all by herself. maybe that was why. 

humans are social creatures by nature. 

and he does not understand why the lamb lives alone. and to move here where family is far away. to work, to make a wage, to survive in this world that’s plagued with men’s greediness that meager people are forced to endure the hardship of living. even if it meant to be away from where home really is, the lamb had the courage to move away to live. 

where was the lamb’s anger? he thinks. to live in an unfair world while still being kind was always a confusing concept to him. yet the lamb still takes joy, like at this moment, seeing someone win something the lamb could have. in his years of living and seeing so many people come across his path, a lamb was new to him. not a pathetic rabbit, a fierce tiger, a corrupt king… but a lamb. 

the lamb of god was a title meant to take away the sins of the world. always uttered in prayers before he would consume the sins of the deceased. but wasn’t he the one who took them away rather than the lamb of god? he would often ponder about it once he had his fill. 

but his lamb, his lamb- 

despite sin, you were kind. he thinks. 

had there ever been someone truly sinless? 

“pizza’s on its way now.” the lamb interrupts his thoughts. “shouldn’t take too long now.” the lamb smiles at him before standing up. “wanna smoke?” 

he stares at the lamb, wondering if you’ll forgive him for the trouble he might bring in the following days. he stands up, and the lamb goes out, and he follows. 

・゜゜・．

there was always something weird going around in minnesota from time to time. maybe it was the long freezing winters or the isolating woods. maybe you were not used to it yet, maybe that was why you felt like something weird was always something happening to you. first time something weird happened was when you were freshly new in your neighborhood and minnesota itself. you were driving along the dark highway, headlights bright, and suddenly a flash of bright light erupted in the night sky. you guessed it might have been a meteor or something. yet the brightness of that flash was like someone had a gigantic flashlight. 

but oh well… 

you’re having even weirder instances that seem to be becoming normal now. 

like your routine you have with the man- ole, in your home. 

most of the time he still kept to himself in his room, others, you would find him in moments you expected to be alone. like when you come back from grocery shopping, you were used to hauling your heavy grocery bags by yourself, of course, but somehow he’d always appear right at the front door making you jump in surprise. you swear you might get a heart condition from how he’s been spooking you with his presence. but he’ll help you with the groceries silently, and you let him. 

it was nice that you got someone to help you with simple tasks that were difficult before you had no company. felt like what you’re doing finally meant a little bit more, now you had someone else other than yourself in your lonely home. that leaky pipe you’ve been meaning to call a plumber? suddenly fixed. your washer’s fan that’s been squeaking non-stop? fixed as well. 

it’s like he fits himself perfectly in your lonely abode. 

your shared smoke breaks were something that became the ones you look forward to after a chaotic shift back at the hospital. the emergency room was chaotic most of the time, and he’s a great listener when you’re ranting (by great listener, he just sits there and stares at you while you rant away.) 

sometimes you wonder if he listens at all. 

“and then she had the audacity to tell me i filed the paperwork wrong.” you tell him, flicking ash from your cigarette on the tray. “it’s her paperwork! i’m already doing the ones she missed.” 

the man beside you exhales his smoke out to the open. you take another inhale, the bitter taste spreading across your tongue, further making you upset about your lazy co-worker. 

silence was your only response as you exhaled out. snow flakes drift lazily across the neighborhood. 

“the woman with blonde hair.” 

you blink. “what?” 

“suzy.” 

the man merely looks ahead, as if there’s something he’s been spying out in the distance. 

“she complains much.” 

you look at him, surprised. “i told you her name weeks ago.” 

“a man remembers.” 

the man takes another hit of his cigarette as you force yourself not to smile. for some reason, that warms you more than a cigarette ever could. 

it was silly… you tell yourself now. 

and very strange. you had to remind yourself he got into your house in the weirdest way. but the comfort he brings changed the way you look at him. and you admit to yourself that he’s not a stranger anymore… more like… maybe a companion? you sometimes look at him, wondering how he came about. other times, you don’t notice you stare at his face. 

he’s handsome… a sort of rugged look he has with his hair and his whole attire. when he sometimes stands close to you, there’s a flicker of something you haven’t felt in such a long time. 

yet here he was. 

and here you. 

he had become apart of your routine. not the bleeding stranger that stood alone in the cold streets. looking ominous and intimidating. when you’re making coffee, you bring out two mugs. your pancakes that you can’t finish, he eats them with joy. he’s the second pair of footsteps, although quiet, that moves in your quiet home other than yours. he’s that quiet presence that spooks you when you’re in the kitchen. he hovers behind, looking over your shoulder while you cook. and he willingly sits and smokes with you on your porch, and you’re not met with the lonely cold night of minnesota as your companion. 

a companion. 

the thought makes your stomach flutter strangely. 

oh, it’s so silly! you think to yourself as you prepare dinner in your kitchen. you chop the potatoes, setting them aside as you move to your oven to check the roasted chicken. pretending that the sudden warmth across your cheeks comes from it. 

ridiculous. 

you’re ridiculous. 

and the thought of him leaving… settling his ‘debt’ with you makes you feel all gloomy all of the sudden. 

right, temporary. 

this whole thing is temporary. and maybe tomorrow or you hope at least next week, he’ll be gone with a cryptic answer for what he’ll supposedly give you in return. you’re a little bit on edge now, having not heard him move in the house or announce himself behind your back. you chalk it up that he must be in his room. 

“chicken’s almost done!” you yell out, but it feels like you’re shouting at nothing. you don’t usually eat with him most of the time, but you wanted to do something more than what you were cooking for yourself. maybe you can invite him for dinner rather than leaving out food for him that you’re half-sure if he ever eats it other than pancakes. you busy yourself with sautéing the potatoes with garlic and olive oil. 

the chicken is ready by the time you transfer the seared garlic potatoes on a fancy plate. the dining table is already set up and you can’t help but check on him, wondering where he is. 

as you step away from the kitchen, your slippers step on something… wet? 

you glance down, eyes widening, shocked to see you stepped on mud… mud? you tense up, seeing the mud as you follow its track to the hallway. the atmosphere turned heavy, you tense up, the dimness of your home doesn’t make it better as you grab whatever object near you as a makeshift weapon. afraid that someone else broke in, and your intimidating companion was nowhere to be found. which makes matters worse. the only defense class you took was back in 6th grade when you took wrestling as your P.E class for some reason. and that was years ago. 

you slowly follow the muddy footsteps, and it leads you to your staircase. you gulp, gripping the empty paper towel holder as you take a deep breath before having the courage to go up. your phone is upstairs in your bedroom, and you can’t call 911 without it. every step you take as the darkness grows each climb makes your hands shake. you cannot believe there’s an intruder in your home, and you’re pretty sure you locked everything. and the front door was closed, and you didn’t hear any footsteps as well. maybe the window? you think. but impossible. 

the muddy footsteps stop at the bathroom. the door was ajar, light was peaking through, and you brace yourself to open it. the door creaks open and a muddy hand suddenly opens it wide. you yell as you’re about to swing, only for a harsh grip on your wrist to stop your assault. you finally can see the intruder, and all nervousness seem to disperse. 

the man- ole, yes, your ole… stands before you covered in mud from head to toe… naked? no, not naked, but in underwear, thank god. the stench of earth and a metallic scent envelops your nose, making you wince but you don’t care about that now. all you care about is what the hell happened to him. 

“oh my god, it’s just you! w-what happened? are you alright?” you blabbered, dropping the towel rack as you cup his muddied face. 

the man… stands still as the lamb’s hands cup his face so gently. he flinches for a moment as he feels your fingers shakily wipe the mud off under his eyes. 

“god…” he mumbles, yet his other words are interrupted by the lamb.

“i-is that blood on your arms? are you hurt?” the lamb’s hands drop, and he almost chases the warmth of the lamb’s palms. palms that were gentle and soft, not calloused and harsh palms that forced him to his knees and maul his face while he begged for coin and food. but palms that hold… care. 

“oh god, you’re hurt! you’re bleeding…” the lamb panics as he stands still, his head swimming a bit. it has been awhile since he had done that ritual. to connect with the earth and take on the sins he ate, and gather strength for the vengeance he will have against that blasted family. he lets the lamb fuss over him, the soft hushed whisper of the lamb’s words makes him forget about the burden of his acts. just only the lamb’s hands filled with comfort makes him feel sinless again. 

“lamb…” he utters, and the lamb pulls him back into the bathroom. 

you’re distressed. you push him into the bath, turning the shower on really quickly. making sure the temperature is warm as you see him sit down in the tub. the cuts on his arm looked self-inflected, and you don’t have the darndest clue of what the hell he just did to himself. it scares you, and it seems he notices your distraught as his brows furrow and he frowns. 

“yeah?” you hear him utter that nickname he gave to you. 

“a lamb takes away the sins of the world.” he mumbles as you grab a washcloth, soaking it in the faucet. “a lamb of god…” he continues to ramble on while you grab the first aid kit in the drawer. “lamb…” 

“don’t soak your arms in the tub please. let me clean and bandage them first.” you shakily say, too focused to entertain his rambling. the bathwater turned murky and brown when you kneeled beside him, gesturing for his arms. 

“what did you do to yourself?” you don’t notice the tears swelling in your eyes. the lacerations on his arms were huge, and you thought for the worse. “you can tell me everything, ‘ya know? you’re not… y-you’re not a stranger anymore, you can tell me what’s happening. d-did someone make you do this?” 

he looks at the lamb. 

fear written all over the lamb’s face. poor lamb. not fear of him, but fearing for him. the distinction settles strangely in him as he feels the lamb wipe his wounds. he ignores the stinging pain. 

for centuries fear has been his only source of drive for survival. fear had worn many faces for him.

fear of starvation. 

fear of pain. 

fear of death. 

the lamb’s were not this. 

“no.” he quietly says. 

“no?” the lamb breathes out, shakily wiping the mud and blood off his flesh. 

“it is the man’s burden.” the lamb looks at him confused, but carefully wipes his arms again. 

“ole…” his name on the lamb’s tongue sounds like warm pancakes. “that’s not reassuring.” 

the man watches the lamb’s brows knit. watches tears gathering in your eyes, and something inside him twists unpleasantly. 

the lamb should not weep over a man such as him. 

“the burden belongs to the man alone, lamb.” 

“that’s stupid.” the lamb’s response is immediate. no hesitation. the man blinks at that. 

“i… the man does not understand.” he asks weakly. 

“that’s stupid.” the lamb repeats, done with wiping his arms as the lamb pulls out an ointment of some kind. gently dabbing it on a cotton pad and presses against his mauled skin. the coldness of it makes him flinch, the lamb notices it immediately. “s-sorry.”

“nobody should bear it alone.” the lamb quietly tells him. “you don’t have to tell me everything.” another wipe, but the lamb’s words were the ones that make him freeze. “but you don’t have to sit here hurting by yourself either.” 

silence follows. only the sound of water slightly splashing and the lamb’s breathing fills the bathroom. 

warm… 

scent of the antiseptic. 

remnants of the mud and blood are already faint. 

the lamb is kneeling beside him, focused on tending to him. 

the man cannot remember when someone tend to him with this much care. he does not even remember his own mother’s nurturing embrace… 

his gaze lowers to the lamb’s hands. small hands compared to his, but steady despite the lamb’s worry and fear. hands that patch his wounds. who offered shelter, food, comfort, kindness… without naming a price. the lamb did not name a price for him, and yet he could not function properly if he did not make a trade with the lamb. 

“lamb…” the man says, and you glance up. for a moment, neither of you speak. 

“when munch was a boy…” he begins. “freedom was a potato.” 

your eyes widened, as if what he said just made you feel relieved. you don’t say anything, letting him speak. 

“was you did not get killed today… freedom from hunger… from the rusty blade.” he stares into the distance as you gently wrap his arm with a clean gauze. “but to free himself- the man ate.” 

your breath hitches for a moment. 

“first… so others could not. he killed before he was killed. he wanted nothing more because only… kings… had the freedom to want.” there’s a bitterness in his tone that intrigues you. “but now… everywhere you look, you’ll see kings… everything they want, they call their own, and if they cannot have it, they say they are not free.” 

his tone turns into something akin to anger. roy tillman and his son’s face flashes through the man’s mind.

“they even pretend freedom should be free, that it has no cost.” he breathes out. “but the cost is always… death.” that settles something in you, something uncomfortable. “life for life… me…” 

he slowly turns to look at the lamb. 

“or you…” the lamb does not notice the tear running down the lamb’s cheek. his bandaged arm slowly lifts up, reaching to cup the lamb’s cheek as his thumb swipes the stray tear hesitantly. the lamb leans into his touch and breathes out a sigh. his chest feels heavy all of the sudden. 

“whoever… whoever made you hurt yourself, i don’t know if that’s why you’re here… but i’m glad you told me this even if…” you let out a small laugh, feeling ridiculous that you can’t process his cryptic words. “even if i don’t understand it all yet.” 

the man’s hand falls back to his lap. 

“i made roasted chicken by the way… and garlic potatoes. d-do you want that after you clean yourself up?” the man looks at you, the tension on him disappears for a moment. “do you want anything else?” 

his eyes light up for a moment and he suddenly stands up. your cheeks turn warm as you look to the floor, and immediately rise to his height as you grab a towel for him. 

the man almost smiles. “pancakes.” 

・゜゜・．

the day after was a blur. 

you had the day off, and he quietly asked you if he could borrow your car over breakfast. although it sounded more of a command rather than a question. but he had the decency to ask, and you agreed. before he could leave, you noticed he didn’t have a thick enough coat, and the snow outside was heavier than yesterday. you did not want him to freeze as you stopped him. 

“take the coat, please? it’s shit-freezing outside. i don’t want you getting hypothermia.” you say to him as you shove the old grandma coat you had that’s been hanging on your coat rack since forever. he glances down at the coat then to you. 

“thank you.” he says, grabbing it and putting it on. you smile at him before you watch him walk away. wondering where he’s going. 

yet you did not expect what he brought after that. 

you were sitting in the kitchen when all of the sudden, he appears out of thin air again, making you yelp. 

“you scared me.” you say, and he suddenly drops a bag on the table. “what’s this-“

“trade.” he merely says, gesturing to the bag. “for you, lamb.” 

you blink, and you guess he wants you to open it how hard his gaze is as he tracks your every move. you hesitantly open it, and you swear your eyes were going to bulge out when you finally saw the contents in it. 

“where did you get this?” you ask, bewildered. the amount of cash in here look like it summed to at least a hundred thousand or something. “ole, no, no, no- listen, i can’t accept this-“ 

“a trade has been agreed upon.” he reminds you, and you shake your head. 

“i’m not really struggling with money, and i don’t know what to do with this- okay, wait, where the hell did you get this cash?“ you push the bag towards him, and he frowns… more confused with your reaction. 

“the man’s debt has been repaid. it is… done. a man has no use for half of it…” he tells you, and you’re more bewildered saying that’s half of what he’s giving to you! you sigh, standing up as you walk towards him. 

“i don’t feel comfortable accepting it. you’re kind that you thought about this, thank you for that. but ‘ya know… all this-“ you gesture to him and you. “all this doesn’t have to be repaid.” 

his brows furrow. “the lamb offers a man a warm home and food for his burden. a debt is expected… it is required.”

“not all good things… well… uhm, not all good things have to be given something in return.” you tell him gently. “i offered you my home because you needed it, right? you did not bring trouble here, and i think that’s enough for what you can give me in return. and you already paid it.”

“the lamb desires for more… you say you desire for a better vehicle. this is enough for the lamb’s want.” he presses on, and you huff out a laugh. it surprises you how much he remembers, which makes you feel all warm. 

“i do… yeah, i do want more. but sometimes you have to work the hard way to get it. it is nice to be able to get in the easier way but… what’s life without the hardship of living?” you shrug, feeling ridiculous about your own ethics. the man stays silent, almost upset but very confused still. 

“hey…” you reach to grasp his hand. “thank you for this. this was very thoughtful of you.” 

you’re so close to him that you can feel his breath fan across your face. he looks at you, features slowly softening as you can’t help but lean up and press a chaste kiss on his cheek. when you lean back, you can see the pupil of his eyes widen, and he looks away… sheepishly. 

“a gift then… for you, lamb.” he mutters. you giggle loudly, amused he still wants you to have the money. 

“don’t.” you warn him teasingly. “i don’t know where you got this, but i’m not gonna ask again. it’s yours.” 

he looks at the money then to you. 

he still can’t understand you. 

but it feels nice… a nice change for once. 

“you’re leaving, then?” you suddenly ask, and the man doesn’t answer for a moment. you frown, feeling a little disappointed. “if you’re leaving… please tell me, don’t disappear.” 

“the man will not.” he tells you with no hesitation. you wonder if it’s him leaving or telling you he’ll give a word before he leaves. you give him a tight smile, nodding. 

“the man’s debt is paid… yes… but it is not over, yet.” he confesses. “no trouble to be brought into this home, you say… there will be trouble, but it will be taken care of.” 

“i…okay.” you breathe out, wondering what the hell was that supposed to mean. “but you’ll be alright, right?” 

“the man will not disappoint the lamb.” he reaches to touch your cheek again, as if he’s remembering your face as you glance at his lips while his thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek. so he is leaving, you think. you don’t want to picture what your home will feel like again when he leaves. not when he’s looking at you like this. gentle and soft.

you like him so much. you confess to yourself, and you don’t want to make things awkward if you tell him so. you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. 

“okay…” you pull away from his touch, and the man falls silent, letting you walk away. he senses your disappointment, but he cannot bring himself to soothe you. he does not know how. 

he watches the lamb leave, and he broods alone in the kitchen. 

・゜゜・．

you smoke more than what you consume tonight. there’s a noticeable shift, and you don’t know if he senses that, and ignores it as he stays in his room. you blow the smoke away, even the nicotine doesn’t lighten your mood as you think about him leaving. you feel so pathetic that you don’t want him to leave. you know he has his own life… no matter how strange you view it. but he became someone that mattered to you despite knowing him for almost a month. 

it would be selfish of you to load what you felt for him when he’s dealing with something. and it irks you that you want to know more. but he’s good at putting up a wall when it comes to that. you take another hit of your cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray. a sudden sound causes you to look up, and you see a man looking over your car suspiciously. as if trying to find something in it.

“hey!” you yell out, and the man quickly turns to look at you. the young man is dressed in a vest, hair slicked back, and wearing a cast on his arm. he looks mildly surprised when he sees you. “that’s my car. what the fuck are you doing?” 

“just checking something, lady.” he says, and you grab your phone.

“leave, please. or i’m calling 911.” you threatened, staying still where you are, but ready to bolt inside if the young man tries anything. the man’s gaze shifts to you, he squints, seeming to turn his attention towards you now. 

“that won’t be necessary, lady.” he says, slowly walking over before stopping to take a good look at you. “is he in there?” 

“what?” 

“i asked, is he in your fucking house?” he says, and your mind clicks. dread fills your mind as you grip your phone tighter in your hand. 

“i don’t know what the hell you want, sir. i live alone.” you inch closer to your front door. the young man scoffs, and suddenly bolts towards you making you scramble to get in. 

“help!” you yell out when he manages to grip your wrist as he pulls you both in your home. 

“shut the fuck up.” he clasps his gloved hand above your mouth while he clumsily kicks your door shut, tackling you to the ground. you let out a noise of pain as he holds you down. “just tell me where he is, i know you have him in your house so don’t try to play dumb with me, bitch- ow!” 

you manage to bite hard on his hand as you run up the stairs. the man follows as you run up the steps, sprinting to the hallway through dark until you trip. your head hitting the wooden floor loudly, making you wince and moan out in pain. 

“fucking bitch-“ you hear the intruder say as you look back to see him glaring at you. you scramble to stand up until your eyes widened seeing ole appear out of the corner, holding a baseball bat that you had and swinging it towards the intruder’s head. you gasp, seeing the young man’s body fall to the ground with a thud. you shakily stand up, and ole kicks the intruder’s body for a good second as he finally diverts his attention to you. 

“who’s that?” you manage to ask despite being out of breath. “he…he was asking about you- i-i-“ 

he takes a step towards you, and you let him. 

“…you were not supposed to see him.” he finally says, and you blink dumbly. 

“…i should call the cops.” 

“no.” 

“no?” you look at him, bewildered. “please tell me what’s going on! i’m so confused-“ 

the man touches the side of your head. a bruise has formed on the side of your face, and you wince in pain. 

“the man will take care of it.” he merely says. “all will be gone, lamb.” 

“you say that…” you sigh. “please… stop saying that.” 

you don’t want to look at the unconscious body laying in your home. you swat away his hand as you walk past him to get to your room. the man follows, looking sorry. 

“it is almost finished. the man’s trouble will be resolved-“ 

“stop saying that!” you plead. “you’re leaving, i get it. i’m… i’m just so confused.” you sit on your bed as he stands in front of you. “you don’t have to leave just yet… if someone else is trying to find you, you’re safer here-“ 

“no.” he immediately says. “a man has failed to protect you, he will not let anything else happen. this was a mistake. a man will not burden you longer, he will leave tonight-“ 

“what if i don’t want you to leave?” you ask brokenly. taking the courage to look at him. the man’s expression shifts. 

“i don’t want you to leave.” you whisper, standing up. inching closer to him. “stay here. you can solve whatever shit you’re dealing with… but come back here. back to me.” 

he stays silent for a moment. 

“a man does not deserve a lamb…” he mutters, taking in your face as his gaze roams around to your eyes then to your lips. 

“you don’t get to decide for me.” you tell him and you had enough of this. you hesitately tiptoed up, cupping his face as you press your lips to his. he stiffens, his hands flying to grasp your waist. the softness of your lips, warm and enticing, reels him in. you feel him hesitating to kiss you back, but sigh softly when you feel his lips move against yours. your hands drop down to paw at his chest. your heart beats so loudly, you're scared that he can hear it. 

“lamb…” he says between kisses, mind foggy with want. want that was suppressed because he did not see himself deserving of this. but you- his lamb says otherwise. 

“just for tonight…” you plead, pulling away as his forehead presses against yours. your eyelashes are almost touching with his. “don’t go yet.” 

he does not have the heart to say no. 

because he does not want to leave as well. 

“yes.” he shakily says, and you smile. you kiss him again, this time with more heat and want. something you’ve been waiting for all let loose. you lick the seam of his lower lip, enticing him to open up as you taste him. he makes a noise, the taste of you ripe on his tongue. 

no sin or delicacy tasted as sweet and pure as you. 

you let out little moans as you clumsily kiss him, not caring if it was messy. you’re enveloped in his warmth, the heavy feel of him makes you swimming with want. he towers over you, and slowly pull him closer. wanting to feel his chest against yours. you suddenly pull back abruptly from the kiss, making him chase after. his gaze looks so hazy and beautiful, you can’t help but press kisses along his cheeks. 

“i want to… i want you.” you whispered, hands caressing his chest. “w-we don’t have to do anything yet-“ 

“a man wants too much.” he whispers hoarsely. “the man is in the lamb’s hands now.” 

his hands squeeze gently around your waist. your eyes darken as you take a step back, gripping the hem of your shirt to shrug it off. 

“take off your clothes, then.” you say sweetly. the man shudders, seeing you strip for him as he watches you peel off your outer clothing. he obeys, shrugging off his long sleeves and kilt, and everything else. when he’s done, his cock twitches at the sight of you bare. you giggle when you see his eyes wandering, and you can’t help but entice him further. gaze dropping down to his crotch, and you mouth waters seeing the sheer size of it. your hand teases your breast, and the other boldly touching yourself in front of him. 

you tease your clit with a slow rub. “touch yourself… go on. want you to watch me.” 

he almost whimpers as he shakily grips himself. your gaze rakes his bare body, admiring the way freckles adorn his arms and chest. he’s fairly built, muscles contracting as he grips his cock that’s leaking. his hand slowly moves up and down, in tandem with yours. you let out tiny noises of pleasure, rolling your nipples between your fingers as you rub yourself while you watch him jerk off. 

“does it feel good?” you ask in a hush whisper. he nods, twisting his hand up and down, squeezing himself as his gaze stays down at your hand rubbing your sweet little cunt. wondering what you’ll feel and taste like as he sees it glistening just for him.

“lamb…” he whispers, pleading. his cock jerks up when you moan loudly. “i…i want, ugh-“ 

“you want what?” you ask breathlessly. you’re so wet, that you think you’ll slip in just as easily on his cock. 

“a man wants whatever the lamb o-offers-“ he gasps out when you suddenly touch his swollen and red tip. your soft hands that cared for him, wrapping warmly around his cock as you press kisses on his skin. you push him to bed, grabbing a condom in your drawer as you stand between his legs. for a big man like him, he sure does look small as you tower over him. his cock stands proud and tall, leaking precum just for you. you tear the foil open, then look into his eyes again. 

“…do you still want this?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s comfortable. 

“yes.” he nods furiously. hands reaching to touch grasp your thighs, softly caressing them. you roll the condom on his cock, and wet your lips as you straddle him. he guides you, seeming unsure what to do but you smile softly at him. 

“i really like you, ‘ya know?” you tell him. grasping him again as you rub the tip of cock across your glistening folds. “don’t want you to leave me…” 

“to want… me?” he whispered, as if you said something so strange. 

“yes…” you whine out as you continue to rub your pussy on him. “i want you. just didn’t want to bother you… or if you don’t want me.” 

“i want you.” he strongly says despite the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling. he has not known this touch for such a long time. “lamb…” 

you let out a loud whine as you slowly sink down on his cock. he grips your hips, gently guiding you down. you let out another moan when you hear your juices squelching as your pussy stretches out to welcome him. 

“oh, fuck-“ you whimper as you finally take him all in. you feel so full, so full of him. you begin to move your hips, grinding slowly against him. the loud squelching noises make it so obscene as you ride him. you pinch your nipples, looking into his eyes. those eyes looking up at you that were once so intimidating. the man sits up, and shakily kisses your delicate flesh. you grip his shoulders, letting him explore. 

he kisses your neck down to your collarbone, whispering jumbled words as he sucks one of your breasts in his hot mouth. he groans, as you grind down harder. his hips jerk up, adding to the friction as you let out another whine. 

“you feel so good, baby.” you tell him, kissing the side of his face. “feels so full.” 

he kneads your other breast, while the other hand grips your waist to keep you steady as he starts to thrust up in you. you hug his broad shoulders, feeling a little dizzy as you bounce on him faster. you feel the hand on your hip slowly dive down to rub your clit clumsily. 

“my lamb-“ he whispers against your chest. 

“oh, oh- right there- please, pleasepleasplease-“ you cry out as his thrusts started to become erratic and quick. your nails dig into his back, his cock massaging your tight walls so good. so big, so fucking wet. 

“yes… yes.” he rubs your clit faster, feeling your walls clench around him so tightly. he knows you’re almost close the way you’re begging for him to make you cum. he’s almost there as well, the way you’re clenching around him makes him thrust up faster. 

“oh f-fuck, yesyesyes-“ you blabbered, feeling your high near. the sound of skin slapping and your combined juices squelching fills the room as you feel yourself let go. he hits that spot inside you, and you cum so hard as you cry out his name. 

“sweet, sweet lamb-“ he kisses your cheek as he sloppily thrusts up to follow after your high. he lets out a tiny whine as he grips your hips, grinding down on him as you let out a whimper. his hips buck up, finally shooting his load inside the condom as his head rests against your shoulder. the two of you are out of breath as you caress his back, soothing him through his orgasm. his cock slips out, and you whine at the loss of him. 

you gently lean back to kiss him. he kisses you back, more softly this time as you smile against his lips. the two of you collapse on the bed as you settle against his bare chest. his bangs are sticking on his forehead, hair all messy, making you grin at his state. he looks so in peace as he holds you in his arms. 

“you good?” you ask him, voice a little hoarse. 

the man glances down to his lamb. he softly caresses his lamb’s back, feeling complete. 

“thank you.” he says gently. you giggle, seeing him so fucked out because of your doing makes you feel all fluttery. and your heart skips a beat, remembering he wanted you just as much as you do. before you could even kiss him again, you remember about the unconscious intruder laying right outside your room. 

“about the man knocked out in the hallway…” 

“the rabbit will be fine.” 

・゜゜・．

mini-taglist: @father-of-2cats @gonereading200 @meowingtotheoldies @fromirkwood

[fhrlclln]

lamb of god | ole munch moodboard

“the lamb of god was a title meant to take away the sins of the world.”

ole munch x fem!reader

[midwestprentiss]

jack abbot and a filipino partner

self-indulgent hcs from a filipina girl

— when jack first visited the philippines after he got married to a filipino nurse, he was very concerned about the sheer number of people calling him an "afam." he asks you if he should worry. you say no. it doesn't help. your niece calls him lolo.

— jack abbot is an adobo warrior, to the disappointment of his partner who prefers sinigang.

— he asks you to translate whatever princess and perlah are saying about him, but you refuse. "ang sungit naman ng asawa mong yan!" and it doesn't sound like a compliment.

— ever since you started living together, he takes off his shoes before entering the house and you help him with his prosthetic.

— your german shepherd rescue is named brownie.

— he has a lunch box all the other staff are jealous of, but rarely enough time to eat it. you have to shoo him to go eat his rice meal and a small bag of flat tops or werther's caramels.

— karaoke dates are great. he's not a great singer himself, but he likes hearing you sing the classics—alanis morissette, celine dion, theme songs from old shows you got him to watch on his days off.

— he adopts the little habit of calling you "boss" because you did it to him in the early days of your relationship.

— his favorite teleserye is please be careful with my heart.

— you put a little bottle of white flower in his backpack for when his head or muscles hurt during the day.

— he tried calling you "mahal" at some point but couldn't pronounce it the way you taught him, so you just laughed and said it was okay to just call you sweetheart.

— everyone stares at him in naia LOL

MAHAL KITA JACK ABBOT :pp this was so fun

[fhrlclln]

LAUFFFFF HAHSHWHWHWHWHHW AFAM

[fhrlclln]

FINALS WEEK HAS BEEN FUCKING ME IN THE ASS 😭🙏 here’s another snippet of my ole munch fic that i’ll be posting this june 1! gonna make a moodboard for this fic cuz this is genuinely one of the few fics i had fun writing lol.

[fhrlclln]

snippet of my ole munch fic 😈 im still brainstorming for more juicy stuff but im getting there.

[fhrlclln]

heya lovelies, thank u so much for the 2.9k follows 🥹 (thank u also for liking my maekar and baelor fics 😍)

[fhrlclln]

I LOVED 'he’s my man'. Gonna end up with more than 6 maekarlings *blows kiss* thanks for sharing ❤️

THANK YOU AND YOU’RE WELCOME, LOVELY!! glad you liked ittt!! 😚

[fhrlclln]

he’s my man | maekar targaryen

SUMMARY -> you hate him, you hate him so much that his mere presence poisons your soul. his animosity and pomposity of a targaryen prince makes you loathe him even more. you do not care if they are royals, but him treating your own home like its his own and treating your father like a servant fuels your anger towards the young prince maekar even more than you’d expect… so why are you thinking of kissing him every time? maekar wonders why you hate him so much, when he wants you so bad.

younger!maekar targaryen x fem!reader

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> not proof-read, enemies to lovers (more like mutual annoyances to lovers lol), maekar & reader in their 20’s, loosely based off ‘may day eve’ by nick joaquin, sexual tension, unprotected p in v, creampie, riding, drunkenness, slightly toxic, chaotic af, kinda sub!maekar & arguing

WC -> 8.14k

a/n: i always thought of young!maekar kinda having aerion’s attitude a little… (but not the insane kind aerion has LOL) just ‘ya know… usual targaryen ego. ALSO I WAS CONTEMPLATING USING A FULL PIC OF SAM’S CHARACTER IN THE SNOW WHITE MOVIE, BUT THE BOB IS KILLING ME SO MUCH so i settled for that pic 😭😭😭 just imagine young!maekar with those bangs and hair reaching to his shoulders lololol.

“they say… on a may day’s eve, like tonight, you can do a ritual to see who is your destined someone.” 

“and this ritual is…?” 

“a mirror and candles in a dark room, and a short chant you’ll utter. once you say the words, you’ll have to glance at the mirror and your future lover will appear, and not your reflection!” 

you roll your eyes hearing your little sister whisper with her friends in their little circle. the hall was being prepared for the feast tonight, and you couldn’t interrupt the servants cleaning it up by lounging there. your room was suffocating as it is, and the solar was your only place of refuge. which so happens your younger sister decided to pull her circle of friends in the wrong moment. 

“should we do it?” her friend asked, too giddy. 

“we should!” her other friend excitedly exclaimed. 

your sister and her friends giggle loudly as they blabber about who they think might appear when they do the ‘ritual.’ the book you’ve been reading becomes boring as you try to become immersed in it. the sound of their giggles and hushed whispers continue to annoy you as you finally let out a loud sigh. they didn't stop, and you stood up, deciding to take a quick walk around the hall to see what the fuss was about this feast being prepared tonight. it was all hushed whispers from your father to your mother. about how important it was to have quality meat and use the best ingredients even if it will cost a month’s worth of coin. 

scandalous, you think. your mother merely told him that if all of you were to die of hunger the next month, it’s on his head. 

ridiculous. you think next, remembering your father told her that if they do not make a good first impression, then the family might not live to see another generation. 

absolutely confusing is what you think now. who are they inviting later anyway? 

the hallways are even busy as well, and as you step in the grand hall, although not really grand, the chaos is what you expected. you see your mother in the middle of it, servants usher to her, asking where to place this and that, where should the main table be placed, and if they should inquire for more cutlery since the silver they have doesn’t fit for the amount of people coming tonight. your mother answers them all with quickness and patience. and her eyes land on you at the very moment you’re about to leave. a single gesture of her finger makes you stop as you come towards her with reluctance.

the servants around her disperse once you finally stand before her. your mother suddenly has the look of worry and nervousness you can’t quite understand why. 

“i need you at your best tonight.” she stresses, and you cannot argue with her seeing the seriousness etched across her face. “tonight will be an important shift for our house- for this family. your father talked about this a million times so i need you to be prim and proper, and help your siblings be ready.” 

you’re about to ask why, but she cuts you off. 

“you are my most established child, girl. i need your help with this because i am this close to slapping your brothers for not taking my words seriously. do you understand?” your mother’s tone grows desperate, and you blink dumbly and nod.

“…may i ask who’s coming, mother?” you finally uttered out your impending question. your mother had the audacity to look at you like some fool, as if they didn’t tell you about who the important guests are. 

“the princes of house targaryen, child!” 

ah. you now know why this feast seems such a chaotic shithole now. 

・゜゜・．

“ow!” your little sister winces in pain as you tie her hair into a neat updo. she winces again when you finally place the hairpin in her updo to secure it at last. 

“hold still or i’ll ruin your hair. mother needs us in the hall after this.” you say plainly as you step away to take a good look at your doing. your sister huffs as she pouts. 

“will i be able to go to bed before midnight after this?” she asks, and you shrug. 

“possibly.” you say with a tease, knowing about her little ritual she wants to do. 

“it’s no fair! i don’t want to go! i thought mother said this dinner was for old people!” you roll your eyes as she crosses her arms. 

“old you say, huh?” you mumble as you gesture to her to stand up. she reluctantly stands with a pout and frowns as she follows you outside of the bedchamber. you carefully fluff up the sleeves and skirt of your gown while your sister tails behind you. you two finally head in the hall, and are stunned to see how… marvelous the once grey hall it was. candles… beeswax, not tallow, are everywhere. making the hall look warm while the food is already sitting on the long tables, enticing and delicious. it’s roasted ribs and you can smell spice that you never smelled before. possibly imported from essos. new silverware you can tell are placed neatly, and the seats are polished. 

you wonder how much coin was spent to make this feast possible. 

your father and mother are already briefing your older brothers, which seems to be more serious than what your mother said to you earlier. you usher your sister and told her to stop pouting as your mother released a sigh of relief seeing you. 

“thank the sevens you two are here now!” she exclaimed loudly. “see! your sister knows how to dress herself, while you three buffoons can’t even tell what colors don't go together!” 

your older brothers rolled their eyes as you patiently waited for further instructions from your parents. 

“this feast is important. proper appearances are a must, we are welcoming royals into our home. princes! the hand of the king at that!” your father blabbered as he tells you all about what it means to have a direct alliance with the crown itself. and he hopes tonight and the days they’ll be staying will be fruitful. for they will take a look at the prosperous town your father has been keeping steady, and the port that’s been the main interest. for it’s easier access of trade routes to dorne and the nearer lands of essos. 

and now you all stand in the courtyard, lined up as you hear the trumpet blaring loudly as hooves of horses are heard arriving. you see your father inhale sharply as you spot the banner of house targaryen between the arriving people on horses. it’s intimidating, you confess to yourself, seeing how much a banner could install a sense of unease in all of you. you can see the black armour of their soldiers and two white ones with capes, the kingsguard. and then finally, you see the familiar face of the young prince baelor. the oldest of the princes come into view. he’s handsome, short dark curls rest on his head. not of silver which made him the unique one. 

the stewart announces him as prince baelor stops his horse with ease before mounting off. the stable men react quickly to guide the horse to stables. the stewart then announced the name of prince aerys, who’s long silver hair catches your eyes. a complete opposite of his older brother. prince baelor was the first to greet your father with a smile and firm handshake as your father greeted him with the same enthusiasm. the stewart then announces the final name of the last prince to arrive. 

prince maekar. the youngest of the brothers. 

his white stallion is a beauty as he effortlessly guides it to a halt, then dismounts with ease. his hair was of silver as well, like his other brother, but cut to his shoulders with short bangs on his forehead, making him look younger. handsome as well. your eyes caught his the moment he stepped forward to join his two brothers to greet your father. from the way he held himself, you can clearly see the swagger and cockiness. your gaze tears away from his, feeling like you’ve been caught. 

“it’s a pleasure to be welcomed, i assure you.” prince baelor spoke to your father as he then introduced all of you to the princes. you did your courtesy flawlessly while you greeted each prince formally like what you were taught. you glance again to prince maekar, only to see him with a faint scowl on his face while he mutters something to prince aerys, indicating he might be tired from the journey or something else. your first impression of him is how he doesn’t hide his expression like most people with his status do. 

you don’t know if that’s good to you or disrespectful- in the sense that they are the ones who came here. and with some decency, he can show his gratitude in some way without looking like he doesn’t want to be here. 

and as you take a good look at the three princes, their black coats laced with hints of red make them intimidating as it is. the rawness of power is evident, and you see your brothers are staring as well. like children who’ve seen a prince for the first time. you quickly gesture for them to stop it as all of you finally head inside. 

and you think this feast will be interesting. 

・゜゜・．

the feast goes smoothly as expected. the remaining guests invited have already filled the hall. from the wealthy merchants alike in the town and notable high figures that are close to your father. you are seated between your mother and little sister, quietly enjoying your meal and wine as lively music and chatter fills in the room. you can see your father beside prince baelor, engrossed in a conversation that looks promising. the other princes are quietly enjoying their meals as well. you wonder why the other two are here, considering prince baelor seems to be the one who’s been doing all the diplomatic chatter. 

“why do they have ashen hair, sister?” your little sister whispered beside you, staring at both prince aerys and maekar across the table. you don’t blame her for her wonder and curiosity. 

“that is the hair they are born with.” you tell her plainly, and your mother shushes the two of you with a glance. you both shut up as your sister pokes the roasted potato on her plate with boredom. 

“i want to go to my room now. when can i?” your sister whines, and you shake your head. she pouts again, and you ignore her as you glance back where your father is talking with prince baelor. 

your father is boasting loudly like the merry man he is, cracking jokes while he sips his pint. the surrounding men laugh loudly at him. prince baelor seems oddly amused, you wonder if it’s for pleasantries or he actually likes your father’s jokes and stories. you then cast your gaze to the other two princes by his side. prince aerys seems to be reading something… which was peculiar, and the younger prince seems to be in a fouler mood. maekar empties his cup as he looks around for the wine bearer. 

and what comes next solidifies the inkling impression you have on him. 

“pour me some wine, would you?” maekar suddenly looks at your father who stops mid laugh and scrambles to grasp the pitcher near him. your father is already tipsy as he is, and your brows furrow seeing the young prince hold his goblet out like your father is one of his servants. everyone is still drunkenly laughing, unaware of the certain shift as your father poured him some wine shakily, and some spills. 

“so sorry, my prince. there we go now!” your father gives off an awkward laugh. prince maekar holds his gaze, not a word comes out of his lips as he sips his wine. your father awkwardly turns back to his seat, and you watch the whole thing with embarrassment and anger coursing through your veins.  

a call of your names eases you back slowly. 

“straighten your face and eat your meal, girl.” your mother whispers calmly like she didn’t just see that as well, and you look at her with disbelief. 

“mother, but-“ 

“do not. please. not tonight, and not when their graces are here.” she stresses, and you see the crack in her stern expression for a moment. your brows furrowed as you looked back at where the princes and father were. prince baelor seems to not interfere with the situation as he looks at his younger brother with only a stern look before your father finally sits down. prince maekar merely ignores his brother as he sips his wine, and then… 

he somehow finds yours amidst the crowd. 

again. 

you hold his gaze longer than before. 

you don’t know why, but an arising feeling of challenge replaces your anger for a moment. the prince’s expression is unreadable, and you cannot help but feel intimidated despite your own feelings. but the sound of your father laughing loudly finally makes the both of you look away from each other. and you finally exhale the breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding. 

you’re now dreading the days you’ll be spending time with them- with him. and you keep that in mind as your sister whines again. 

“can i go to bed now, please?” 

・゜゜・．

the pressure of housing royals under your roof has been the dire effect of what you call a… crisis that’s happening in your own home. you’ve noticed it since the day after they arrived. it was subtle for the staff, like there’s this tension going around when you walk in the hallways. murmurs and whispers instead of the usual loud banter became the sudden norm. sometimes people were too afraid to even pass by the princes’ quarters. like there’s a plague infesting, and you felt like you’re in a different place rather than comfort. a place where you have to watch your every step or else one mistake would cost you. 

seeing your parents, on the other hand, be like nervous fools in their own home was awful. never had you seen them this frantic and desperate, almost like pigs vying for food to their slaughterer. your father was always the butting end to the endless requests the princes have been making. your family’s tower was small compared to the great houses, big enough to hold a great hall and such, but other commodities weren’t present. you guessed the princes were unfamiliar to the functions which you grew to see as normal. and now they demand for more just to feel comfortable? it was humiliating, but it was reality. 

you hate it. you hate the sudden change, the sudden bow of your heads just to house these tyrants. as much as you want to rant your hatred and distaste for the targaryens, you know well enough to keep it to yourself so as to not be charged with treason. and the boiling point of your hatred was majorly directed to one prince in particular. 

prince maekar’s presence didn’t take long to be noticed.

unlike his older brother’s pacifistic and diplomatic personality, and his other one’s more of a quiet type, he was ruthless. ruthless in a way that he doesn’t care what people think of when he acts in a brash and aggressive manner. like he expects people to cower beneath his scowl and sharp tongue. the staff feared passing prince maekar’s room more than his older brothers. you’ve seen him spit fire like the dragon that he is. 

fucking targaryens. 

it happened in the courtyard, wherein you happened to stumble upon him sparring with one of your brothers. you didn’t hear everything, but you can surely make out the sudden animosity your brother had let out when the ashen haired prince smirked like a wolf after saying something that triggered your poor brother. his grin was cocky, almost to the point he was enjoying making people around him uncomfortable. your other brothers had to hold him down to avoid him delivering a blow to the arrogant prince. and no one spoke about that incident the day after… just quiet ignorance.  

you’ve learned to avoid him to not end up bursting out like your brother… in subtle ways. 

and maybe you liked the reactions you get out of him, the ones you get to notice with your little rebellion with him that he isn’t aware of. 

until now… of course. 

it was a fleeting moment that happened a while ago. you were going into the library or your father’s study room, and so happened prince baelor was in there, looking around as well. while prince maekar was sat on the far end, blabbering about to his brother with nonsense you didn’t care to hear. although you did hear some bits and pieces before you came in. 

“why must i come with you to the docks? the blasted fish smell reeks so much.” maekar grumbles while baelor looks at him pointedly. 

“it will do you well to know what goes on there, little brother.” 

“i joined you to come to this miserable place on father’s command, must you torture me further?” you roll your eyes at that. 

“aerys says the seaside looks promising. aerys is coming with me, can you imagine that? and you’re not?” baelor teases as you wait for a moment to join in, just wanting to return the book you borrowed. 

maekar was about to retort until you opened the door, cutting him off. your presence is immediately noticed as you feel maekar’s eyes dart towards you. 

“good afternoon, my prince.” you greeted as always, and the charming prince baelor smiled at you and noticed the book you were holding. “apologies, for the intrusion. i hope i wasn’t interrupting anything-?” 

“not all, my lady. please, go ahead. this is your home, after all. we’re the intruders here.” the dark haired prince smiled. you nod kindly as you look for the shelf where the book was placed. you can feel the other prince’s gaze burn through you, expecting a greeting from you as well. but you don’t give in until he shifts in his seat and stands up all of the sudden. 

and there you greet him with a faux surprised expression. 

“oh! your grace. i did not notice you were here as well.” you smiled at him with a sweet and high pitched tone. maekar’s jaw tightened as he merely nodded at you. 

“you have to forgive my brother. it seems he has lost his voice somewhere.” baelor interjected, sensing something as he looked at his younger brother with an expecting expression. you look back at maekar, expecting the greeting as well. and you want to laugh seeing his ears turn red.

“my lady.” maekar grits his teeth. you smiled back at him mockingly. 

“good read, my lady?” baelor takes over the conversation, gesturing to your book you’re placing back as you turn away from maekar. pouring all your attention to him. 

“not my cup of tea, i’m afraid. i was merely curious about these epics about knights and such.” you blabbered, which was true in a sense. “i’ve read my father’s whole shelf now, and ended up with this.”

baelor chuckles. “not fond of knightly tales of bravery and honor?” 

“perhaps when romance is involved, your grace.” you laugh, putting the book back in. 

“ah, so you favor softer tales of courtship, stolen glances, and the gist of it all?” 

“something of the sort.” you grinned. “reading about a knight's longing for his unreachable princess is far more interesting.” 

baelor eyes you with intrigue. you don’t lie to yourself how handsome the older prince is. but the seeding thought of them indeed being intruders in your home makes you think what he really is behind closed doors. and for how he lets his youngest brother behave like that and such, you don’t expect much from him either. after all, them coming here was an act itself. just to gain your father’s and townsfolk’s favors to spread their image. 

“is that so?” 

“i think so, my prince.” you say sweetly. “honor is admirable, of course. longing, on the other hand, is more entertaining to see how a knight grapples with his conflict of preserving his honor or admit his love for a woman he’s sworn to protect. don’t you think so, your grace?” 

a scoff interrupts the both of you. and you don’t need to know who it came from. 

“entertaining?” maekar questions. “you speak as if it were a game to see a man be a fool.” 

oh. you blink, and turn around slowly to face him. as if you remember his existence now. 

“is it not, your grace?” you finally spoke back. 

“a fool’s game it is.” he strongly says. “fantasy destroys reality, no true knight would be weak for a woman to break his oath.” 

you look at him pointedly. 

“how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then.” your tone drips with honey. a small pause settles between the two of you as his light eyes stare back at yours. 

“though, i fear-“ your smile sharpens, like a bee’s sting. “he would make such a simple story.” 

an uncomfortable silence follows behind your words. you don’t break your gaze from the scowling prince until he exhales loudly that your smile deepens. 

“you think of yourself as very clever, my lady.” he spits those words out like he’s forcing himself not to say anything else. 

“only when i am given something to read into, your grace.” you hum lightly. his eyes narrow, catching on. 

“and what is it that you’ve read from me?” he challenges. 

you’ve snared him now. 

“very little.” you reply almost instantly. “though, it leaves much more for intrigue, my prince.”

his scowl almost falters but he doesn’t look away. in fact, his gaze sends a chill down your spine. but a quiet laugh from baelor breaks the tension. you shyly turn away, feeling you’ve done enough now to get on his brother’s nerves. 

“well…” baelor huffs out, glancing between the two of you. “i had not expected a debate on tales to turn something far more… spirited.” 

you take a step back, smoothing your dress as if nothing happened at all. 

“apologies, your grace.” you turn to baelor with an easy smile to ease your own tension. “i did not mean to liven your afternoon at your grace’s expense.” 

maekar then lets out a humorless breath, making your brow twitch for a moment. 

“you’ve done quite enough.” he mutters. 

you dip your head politely, but the sharpness in your gaze remains. 

“i shall take my leave now, your graces. thank you for your time.” you curtsied gracefully before moving past them swiftly. but you feel it, his gaze burning holes through your back. you finally leave, still feeling his gaze lingering- sharp and strong. the beat of your heart is the only thing you feel when you walk away with a shaky exhale. 

・゜゜・．

“i like her.” 

baelor says to his brother who’s scowling beside him as the sea breeze sweeps past them. aerys cocks a brow, wondering what his older brother is pertaining to all of the sudden. maekar, though, feels a rush of blood course through his veins. he knows exactly who his brother is talking about. 

“your taste in women is unearthing.” he mumbles and his older brother grins as they lean against the wooden railing. 

“not in that way, brother.” baelor says as maekar rolls his eyes. “the lord’s daughter is an educated girl with peculiar opinions.” 

“the older one?” aerys asked as maekar grumbles. 

“aye.” 

“i suppose you’re right.” aerys suddenly agrees, which maekar cocks a brow at that. “our conversations in the library were enlightening. smart girl that she is.” 

“enlightening.” he repeats flatly, remembering your little spit at him the other day. the way your smile pierced through him as he resist the urge to wipe it off. baelor merely chuckles, amused and unbothered. aerys watches him with veil amusement, wondering what happened. 

“she speaks her mind freely. it’s refreshing.” the dark haired man continues. “not many would dare to do so in front of us.” 

“more like a hindrance that she manages to do so. a lack of restraint for a lady like her.” he spits out. the way you looked at him, like asking for a challenge, has him feeling relentless these days. the way you only seem to direct your attacks on him while you give this innocent act in front of his brothers. it infuriates him yet at the same time… he can’t help but not think of you, which added to his misery. 

“is it?” aerys chuckles. “or simply honesty, little brother?” 

he does not answer his older brother for that. his jaw tightens. honesty? if that were true, then why did your words feel so deliberate? his fingers curl against the wooden railing, and a sound of a squawking seagull passes by. 

how fortunate for a true knight to never be tempted, then. 

the way your lips sharpened, the memory returns unbidden. how you cocked your head to the side, and the way your voice sounded so sweet despite its sharpness. and the way you looked at him-  like you’ve already decided what sort of man he is. 

his grip tightens, the wood almost bruising him. 

he would make such a simple story.

simple, huh? his muscle ticks in his jaw. 

“she provokes. unlady-like of her.” he mutters at last. 

“but you allow it.” baelor hums thoughtfully. “and i’m surprised she didn’t cower away like they usually do with you.” 

maekar glares at him. “i do no such thing.” 

“did you not?” baelor’s smile widens. “you took every word she said.” 

“that was not-“ maekar grumbles. “i was merely expressing my opinion as well! she speaks nonsense. this romantic preference over knightly honors was idiotic to compare-“ 

“and yet…” aerys interrupts him. “you remember every word she said.” 

maekar grunts, embarrassed. 

“our brother seems to be ensnared.” baelor adds as both older men chuckled. “this is good for you. a woman who can finally challenge that temper of yours.” 

“gods know we need someone to finally tame you.” aerys mumbles while maekar glares at him. 

he does not like you one bit! he knows that, but his brothers seem to have other ideas. conflicting as he is, you are a beautiful maiden. too beautiful in fact that he seethes in anger remembering your attitude towards him. you’re a temptress, that’s what you are. drawing him into madness since the day you laid eyes on him in that courtyard. 

“i need a fucking drink. and fuck the two of you.” he finally breathes out while his brothers chuckle loudly as they agree on getting a drink. 

the thought of you lingers in his mind… and he can’t help but indulge that he’ll be the one to tame you. 

not him that will be tamed. 

・゜゜・．

“why didn’t the ritual work, sister?” your sister pouts as you brush her hair. you purse your lips, thinking of what to say- or what to say again. since she has been pouting the past few days telling you that little mirror ritual she did never worked. 

“i do not know as well.” you merely say as she pouts even further. she has been complaining that she didn’t see anyone in the mirror other than her own reflection. you blame whoever told her of this ‘ritual’ to get her hopes up. 

“i won’t ever marry, won’t i?” she frowns, and you kiss the side of her head to soothe her disappointment. “mother said marriage is the most important thing to achieve when i grow up.” 

you want to roll your eyes, but you resist the urge to do so. you can see your little sister do much more than marry as her end goal, it pains you that she’s subjected to this tradition like you are roped into as well. your mother’s insistence on pushing you to court has been a debate that’s not been settled between the two of you. you’re grateful your brothers are betrothed which shifted your mother’s attention to them as of lately. 

“get some rest and put that pout away, okay?” you say softly as you put the hairbrush down. she silently nods as you kiss the top of her head again and guide her to her bed at the other side. you tuck her in, quietly telling her to dream sweetly. she eventually drifts off as you busy yourself unwinding for the day. 

the princes were finally leaving in a few days. the wide smile on both of your parents’ faces indicated that this visit was a success. you can’t help but think about the occurrences that happened as of lately. it… bothers you more than you can admit. 

prince maekar kept his distance, and you did as well. it’s what you wanted in the first place. although it bothered you how much you’ve been seeing him since that little incident in your father’s study. somehow you always bump into him in awkward times. and in those times, only greetings were exchanged and nothing more. but the hardest part was why were you so fixated on it? 

sure, you may have grown amused in your treatment towards him. you still thought of him as the arrogant man that acts like a child when someone finally challenges him. the lingering glances may be the reason… you think. he never was the one to break his stare at first, and you happen to be the one who always looks away. you sigh, grabbing your candle to go back to your own room before a sudden clang outside makes you jump. 

“what in the seven hells-“ you muttered, quietly opening the door. your head peeks out and you’re met with the most hilarious sight. 

“for f-fuck *hiccup*… where the hell…” prince maekar stumbles, knocking off one of the candle holders as he mutters where his room is. you raise a brow and scowl. what an annoying thing he is to disturb the peace in front of the room while your sister is sleeping. you wait for a moment, hesitant whether to step outside or to let him pass. he seems to slump against the wall, and you took the courage to leave your sister’s room. you hold your robe tightly against your chest as you try to walk past him. 

“is someone there? help me! i can’t find my room-“ you don’t know why you didn’t just walk away. maybe it was his tone, his pompous fucking tone that he demands someone to help his idiotic self. 

“fucking miserable place this is-“ you turn around, walking over to him as maekar’s head sprung up at the sudden warm light encompassing the dark hallway. 

“your grace. your quarters are on the other side.” you say quietly, and the man blinked dumbly as he squinted to adjust his vision to the candlelight. his drunken self seemed to recognize you now as he scowled. 

“you…” he drunkenly whispered. “you… you can fuck off.” 

your brows furrow. did he just- 

“as you wish, my prince. idiot…” you roll your eyes as you step away. maekar suddenly becomes acutely aware that you’re leaving him as he grips your wrist all of the sudden. 

“w-wait!” he hiccups, and you stood still. glancing at his warm hand wrapped around your wrist. didn’t tell you to go away? you blame the stench of wine and mead on him which makes your nose crinkle. his slumped form suddenly straightens, and he looks down at you with glassy eyes. an uncomfortable feeling settles in your chest, seeing how tall he is.

“let go of me.” you whisper, a bit shakily. he immediately complies and he runs a hand over his face. as if… as if he’s conflicted with something as he stares at you. 

“what the fuck did i do to make you like this to me, woman?” he suddenly asks, drunken mind spewing out his thoughts. his bangs are more swept away than his usual well-kept form. his silver hair shines against your candlelight… he looks pathetic. handsomely pathetic as you swallow in the heat trapped in your stomach. 

but you scoff. “that is your concern?” 

“fucking hell… yes!” he says, almost a whine. “i-i have done nothing! nothing! i am a guest in your home! and you- you treat me like i’m a pest other than my brothers!” he spews out as he angrily rakes his hand through his hair, making him more unwild. 

“maybe you are a pest, your grace.” you snapped, stepping closer to him. “you come here with the attitude of a spoiled prince, which you are.” 

his jaw tightened. “you know nothing of me to warrant that observation.” 

“oh, you’ve given me plenty enough, my prince.” you whispered as you looked into his eyes. “you are a self-pompous, arrogant, spoiled, selfish, and brash man who knows nothing of manners! you treat everyone here as your servant when, yes, you are a guest in my home! but you are not in your fucking castle-“ 

he defends himself. he did not treat you that way. he is sure of it. “i have done nothing to you-“

“you have!” you seethe in anger as he blinks dumbly at your outburst. “my father welcomed you with open arms, and the treatment he gets is like a servant.” 

“that-“ he tries to say. “that… that was nothing. he is the host-“ 

“it means something to me. and all i could see was a spoiled prince who doesn’t know how to ask- but only demand.” you finished, feeling your whole body warm from that. and he stands there… silent. as if you’re the first one to tell him that- and it may as well be true. but when you look into his eyes again, you feel a chill run down your spine. his gaze is half-lidded, warranted with this- want. 

huh. 

your cheeks heat up, and maekar stares back at you. 

“i know.” he finally whispers back. his gaze swept from your fresh face illuminated by the candlelight down to your exposed neck that makes him imagine things that he fought hard not to think of every night. “tell me… tell me how i can make it up to you, then.” 

“what?” your eyes widened. 

“tell me… my lady, tell me how to make amends for you.” he almost begs, and you don't know what the hell he’s talking about. 

“you are insufferable.” you say, wanting to step away but he suddenly moves forward. you take a step back until the wall behind you hits your back. 

“you are as well.” he chuckles. “and yet you keep finding your way to me.” 

oh. you want to retort back, but his looming presence as he leans over, makes you stand still as you wait for his next move. but he doesn’t do anything but stand still, patiently waiting as you look at him through your lashes. for a drunkard, he sure knows how to control himself. the beating of your heart thumps loudly against your chest. his scowl was long gone, his gaze softer than before, it makes you want to- 

no! you say to yourself. you hate him! you hate him so much! but why are you thinking of kissing him everytime- 

“tell me… please.” he breathes out, and your mind goes blank. 

you let the candle you’re holding drop to the ground as you surge forward, gripping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him. his lips taste like wine and you devour it. maekar is now the one who stays still. his head is all buzzed and dizzy, and the soft register of your lips on his own makes him reel back in as he grips your waist. he kisses you back with the same ferocity, thinking this must be a dream. you clumsily kiss him harder, liking the way his hands hold you as he moans in your mouth. 

he feels like he’s been put in a spell. a fucking confusing one because he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to make him this vulnerable. he’s gone, he’s completely gone and utterly destroyed. you finally pull back, having to take a breath. a string of saliva connects the two of you as you let out a tiny sigh. the man in front of you looks more pathetic as he stares at your glistening lips. your eyes stare back as well then going lower… and- 

the evident bulge in his trousers makes your pupils darken. you can feel your own arousal pulse, but reality starts sinking as you’re now aware both of you are in the hallway and anyone could see the two of you in this state. you push him away all of the sudden, and he stumbles back, confused and more drunk. you’re about to break the silence, but he beats you first. 

“f-forgive me.” he merely says. “i’m drunk- fuck, i’m drunk. but please forgive me, my lady.” he mutters, reaching gently to grasp your hand. your breathing doesn’t simmer down as you let him take your hand. he pulls up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “please say you forgive me.” 

“no.” you lie. you pull your hand away, and that makes him stumble forward as you finally rush to get to your room. 

maekar slumps against the stone wall. he sits down, feeling infuriated with desire as he touches his lips. he remembers the softness of it and your taste… but then you pull away, going back to square one. he scowls, he wants you so much but you had to make it difficult. thoughts run through his almost sober mind… he’ll get back to you. if you don’t want his forgiveness then he’ll play your little game. he’ll have revenge, he’ll have you in this state you’ve left him as well. 

・゜゜・．

the days after were suffocating. 

you avoided maekar completely. you stayed in your room more than you normally did. yet the sensation of his lips on yours still lingers. it tears you apart that the man you seem to now want is the same man you thought of lowly. it irritates you, and yet… you don’t even want to think about it. it only makes you mad and… ugh! 

you put your book down, getting off your bed as you try to walk it off. trying to get rid of this feeling, this feeling you aren’t supposed to feel for him. never you had a man tick the inside of your brain this much- let alone a pompous prick of a prince. but it was no matter, he’s leaving in a day. and all will be back to normal. 

although… 

you don’t know why it makes you frown. him. leaving. after all that. you have to admit… he’s the first man that intrigued you despite his sloppy attitude. maybe that was why… maybe he managed to spark something in you that never came until now. and now you expect more, more than just some kiss you know he’ll forget. his drunken ass. 

maybe he does this thing to every woman he comes across, you suddenly think, and maybe you’re one of the unfortunate victims. 

a knock and opening of your door pulls you out of your anger all of the sudden. 

“yes?” you breathe out. 

“father wants to see you. says he needs to talk to you… at this instant.” your brother says, and you’re frazzled. you only comply, following him to your father’s study, worried what this is about. when you enter, your father is sitting in his study with a joyful expression, as if he was told something even more profound than having a direct alliance with the crown. your mother sits on the chair in front of him, also looking ecstatic. 

“ah! there you are!” your father jumps up, ushering you to come in. you hesitate until your mother practically leaps up from her seat to pull you down to sit instead. 

“i am so proud of you.” your mother tells you all of the sudden. you raise a brow, confused. 

“i don’t how you did it, my girl. i am already pleased with the business we have with their graces, but this… you did a good job.” your father now praises you. you sit there, dumbfounded, wondering what this is about. did you won a tourney or something without knowing- 

“i… thank you?” you finally say. both your parents smiled widely. 

“i knew my daughter would one day become a princess.” your mother says, and your blood turns cold. 

what? 

“pardon?” you blink. 

“of course, my love. prince maekar chose exceptionally well! he knew our daughter’s worth.” your father says and you want to run. “he asked permission from us to court you, saying you two have been spending quite a lot of time together. i am sure within weeks he’ll ask for your hand!” 

a vein almost pops in your head, but the feeling in your chest says otherwise. that cunning piece of shit- 

“huh.” you don’t know what to say, if you tell them the truth, you don’t want them to be upset. you don’t want a whole argument to turn into who’s telling the truth, because what the hell was that man thinking? 

why? is your next question in your head. what is he doing? you don't know what the hell he’s getting out of this- you really don’t know. both of you ignore each other that night, and now this? 

was he plotting against you? just for fun? 

you want to scream, but you smiled. forced a smile as your parents praise you indefinitely. 

this was not over. 

・゜゜・．

maekar feels smug… smug that he’s managed to grin today. tomorrow he’ll leave, and never speak to you about what he told your parents. it was something out of the whim that he told your father that. as childish as it was, he was hoping you’d take the bait. but it seems your distance grows further. he rarely sees you the days after that night. 

and it was killing him. 

laughable it was, he doesn’t expect that you’re now this close to being snared in his trap. 

like right now. 

you were livid, finally cornering him that night. you secretly waited, just enough to corner him in the stairs at the dead of night. this time you had no plan, no motive, nothing- but to just… strangle him if you could. and this is how maekar ends up pressed against the wall in the spiral stairs with you pushing your finger on his chest. 

“you are a lunatic!” you try not to yell as the prince smirked. “how- how could you say that to my father? are you mad?” 

“watch your tone, m’lady.” he merely says, mocking you. your eyes widened as you don’t know what else to say. “i bet you liked it, didn’t you? you kissed me first from what i remember-“ 

“shut up!” you cut him off, cheeks warm, and there he looks at you fondly, and you deliver the final blow, hoping it would gain a reaction from him.

 “i hate you.”

silence. only the wind outside can be heard. maekar’s jaw tightened as he looked at you, his hand came up to cup your jaw… and you let him. he smirks, shaking his head. 

“i know you do.” he whispers and all hell breaks loose. he surges forward to capture your lips, and it felt damn better than that night he was drunk. you pull his collar forward, deepening the kiss as your mind goes blank. you moan between kisses when his hands grasp your hips. 

it was all a blur, your hands went to his trousers, untying them. he followed your every move as you pushed him to sit on the stairs. his hands grasped your hips then reached up your skirt, looking for your drawers to pull down. you slap his hand away, still angry as you push them off. 

“you said you wish to court me, right? marry me?” you breathe out as he pulls his trousers down, his arousal evident as it springs out. you look down at his cock, all thick and hard, the wetness in your center annoys you. maekar dumbly blinks but nods at the same time. 

“i hate you. so this is your way of forgiveness.” you say sweetly as you grip his chin. “or else i’ll tell everybody how you soiled me then left the next day.” 

he laughs as you grip his cock, and you’re not entirely sure what you’re doing as you grip it before hovering over his exposed lap. maekar watches seeing you fumble until he gently guides you. his fingers brushed against your entrance, and he made a pleased noise feeling your wetness. all for him. you shudder at his ministrations until he gripped and pressed himself against your entrance. you sink down, welcoming him, but it stung, making you place your hands on his chest to keep you steady. 

“easy now.” he whispers. “slowly.” 

you nod as you slowly take him in, fighting the burn as your warm walls welcome him. 

“fucking-“ he groans out when he’s deep in you. you let out a whine as you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting to his size. after a couple of minutes, you begin to move, a little clumsy but you grind your hips, feeling the pleasure like no other. it was all so new, and you can’t wrap your head around the idea that this is wrong. 

what the fuck are you two doing? 

you want to cry out as maekar lets you set the pace, but he leans forward, kissing your exposed neck as he pulls the strings of your top to reveal your chemise. he pulls it down, kissing your exposed breasts. you grind against him as his hips matched your pace. you moan out, the new sensation making you dizzy as he lets out a few groans of his. your hands went to his hair, and you pull him forward for another kiss. 

“i hate you.” you mumble between his lips, grinding harder, feeling like you’re close to something. his hand comes down to bully your clit which makes you whine loudly. 

“i hate you.” you repeat again, and he chuckles before pounding upwards to chase the impending release you’re both having. 

“i hate you!” you grip the back of his neck when you feel yourself coming, and he sighs out as your walls clenched around him. he moans out, loving every second of it as his own release follows after. he cums deep inside you, and fuck does it feel so good and so wrong. 

the gentle high dies down, and you slump against his form while he lays back on the stairs. he looks at you, softly this time. you look back at him as he merely grins. 

“am i forgiven?” 

・゜゜・．

“i really do hate you, you idiot.” 

it’s the first time in six years since you said you hate him again. maekar looks at you fondly as he wipes your stray tears. you carry your little aerion in your arms while daeron grips your dress below, staring silently at the two of you. you hate to see him go this moment, when you’re not sure he’ll come back to you alive and you don’t know what to do with that thought. he was commanded to lead the siege near king’s landing, and you didn’t like the idea of your husband so close to the rebellion. but duty was duty. he needed to go and join his brother. 

“i love you.” you say finally, kissing his lips one last time. “come back to me- to us.” 

“i love you as well.” he utters softly, and you’re reeled back in the past the first time he said that after the incident you two caused back in your hometown. 

“come back or i’ll never forgive you.” you warn him, the nostalgic feeling makes him chuckle as he kisses the head of aerion and bends down to daeron, muttering to your little boy to take care of you when he’s away. 

“i know. when haven’t i made amends for you?” he grins, and you can still see that boyish grin of the pompous prince you grew to hate… then love back then. 

・゜゜・．

[fhrlclln]

im cooking, im cooking… 🧑‍🍳

(currently still writing my other maekar fic that im hoping i can finish by the weekend- so im taking time with this hehe)

[fhrlclln]

guess who’s in the middle of watching s5 of fargo… and so happens sam spruell is in it, and is currently thinking up for a fic for ole munch… 🙋‍♀️

[fhrlclln]

Could I request maekar x f! or gn reader who is close in age and like maekar lost their spouse that they loved but they find love again with each other. Thanks!! Would prefer a longer fic.

in grief and love | maekar targaryen

SUMMARY -> it has been a quiet few years since you’ve stepped into society since your husband’s death. the king’s grand nameday has invited all noble houses, including your family’s, to join the big celebration in king’s landing for a tournament. and in a quiet moment in the balcony for respite, you meet the prince who shares the same degree of grief of losing someone you love as well.

maekar targaryen x fem!reader

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WARNINGS -> not proof-read, reader’s house is mentioned from the reach but not totally detailed, reader has siblings, slow burn-ish, talks of mourning/grief, emotional, & hella romantic

WC -> 5k

a/n: IM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG ANON! but this was such a sweet request i love it.

you curse death for being a cruel being. you curse the stranger for its hand with it, and you pray to the mother for peace and forgiveness at your behest. it has been a long time since your husband’s untimely death. a very long time it was that it pains you to think your marriage with your beloved was shorter of years than his death anniversary. you never gave him a child during his short time alive… everything fell apart when the stranger took him away with a fever. 

he was so young, both of you were young back then. the pain still lingers until now. you sometimes would wonder what he looks like in your age in this time…  would he have the same smiling wrinkles, perhaps? would his hair start to grow specks of grey or would he have grown a beard? you could only remember his youthful face. it was clear your love for him never faded away. tragic, they say, that you were widowed so young. 

your rejection of remarrying was a quick decision you made. although, your family disapproved of it at first, but you stood your ground despite being threatened to be shipped off or to the sept it was. they told you were still young, still ‘viable’ to be wed even if you are widowed. your refusal came with a long period of silence because of that. but they eventually backed down, and you were glad that they weren’t that cruel in those times. you couldn’t grasp the idea back then of vowing again to someone who’s not him. it felt like a betrayal if you did it. 

you were a burden to them, you know that. alongside your grief came with that as well. and the fact that you did not have a child with your husband meant that his estate will not pass down to you, only a small portion of the dowry was only given to you. and now… after a few years of shielding away from society, your parents commanded that you were to support your unwedded younger siblings for future marriages. you accepted, it is the least you can do to lessen the feeling of being a burden to your family. 

it’s overwhelming to see hundreds of people in the same place as you stay behind your father’s back. the vast garden of the red keep was indeed a sight to see. you can see so many different colors belonging to each noble house in westeros. it is the king’s grand nameday today, and in honor of his majesty’s long reign, a tournament that will last for three days will happen. and all noble houses are invited, including your family’s, which your father argued was the best time to let your younger siblings make progress. 

you glance at your younger sisters whispering about as they giggle loudly. you can see their eyes wandering before you glance at your brothers who are beside your father as a servant guides your family to be seated at a designated table in the garden. a toast and a banquet will be made today before the joust and other games will start outside the red keep tomorrow. the grandness of it all catches your eyes. the intricate designs of the targaryen colors are etched everywhere, black and red with subtle hints of gold. you cannot remember the last time you visited king’s landing, and you feel a little out of place. 

and with an absence from society like you have for a long time, prying eyes are bound to look at you intently. you can feel several staring at you, you can hear whispers from some asking who you are. that they never saw you from your father’s side and such. you could not argue with them, your youthfulness has already passed, and the last time you were in public was when you were young. to them, you assume they see you as a peculiar lady standing behind your father and your siblings. 

“a distant relative, perhaps?” one whispered, staring at you as you sat down beside your sisters. you ignore their gossiping, wishing that this banquet would end already. 

“you assume too kindly. maybe his mistress?” one mirthly said, and it makes you shudder with annoyance. 

“his daughter, i heard. do you not remember the widow of that young lord back in the reach? tragic, it was, died from-“ you force yourself to not continue hearing that. you swallow in your growing frown, not wanting to disappoint your father for looking grim. 

you glance at your father, he seems to hear those as well as he offers nothing but a look of ‘behave yourself’. you sigh, shrinking back in your seat as you look down at your hands. trying your best to compose yourself. the banquet started with a toast from the hand of the king, prince baelor, to his father sitting by the throne. all were clapping and cheering for the king’s long life, and wishing more years to come. all the king’s sons are present from where you can see, and so are most of his grandchildren. the silver hairs of the targaryen are always the center of attention amidst the sea of people. your attention turns to your father who approaches you with a serious look. 

“keep your sisters out of trouble. i expect you to teach them like what we agreed.” he whispered, and before you could even utter a word, he left you by yourself as the dancing and drinking started. lively music starts to fill in the garden as all sorts of entertainment are there to keep all guests happy. 

“can we dance now?” one of your little sisters grin at you excitedly. 

“of course.” you tell her as she excitedly pulls your other sister to the dance floor where all young ladies and men alike are celebrating. you pick up your goblet, taking a sip of your wine as you stand alone in the sea of people. it did not take long for the whispers to be heard again. 

“i never seen his eldest daughter before, have you?” one lady whispered. 

“oh, a long time ago. she was so young last i saw her. face of a newly wed. it’s such a tragedy her late husband was gone too soon before they could start being married-“ 

“oh my! did she not remarry?” 

“i hear she was supposed to. but never did.” 

“what a shame. did she not think about her security at least?” 

you try to quell your anger as you take another sip of your wine. 

“shame indeed. with her father’s struggle to keep their house afloat, and his other children still young for marriage, she should’ve swallowed her pride at least-“ you could not stay in the crowd for much longer. you glance at your sisters, seeing them happily dancing, you did not want to ruin their moment as you quietly walked away from the crowd to somewhere more quiet and easy to see the dance floor. 

when was the last time you danced? you wonder, trying to distract yourself from your anger and disappointment. the memory you had was in your wedding, and everything feels so familiar hearing all the laughter and music. you can imagine your husband’s grin and touch as he spins you around, and you can hear your laughter ringing through your head from that bittersweet memory. you gulp down the last of your wine as you head towards the garden’s balcony. somewhere quiet and out of prying eyes and gossiping mouths. the dimness of the balcony provides a comforting relief. for a moment, you let yourself unwind the facade you’ve been holding up since you arrived here. you wished that you hadn’t left your home now, but you know very well the exchange with that was disappointment from your father. he might even consider sending you to the sept like he intended to do years ago. 

a tiny noise of someone sipping suddenly makes you aware you’re not alone. 

you turn to see a head of silver hair standing by the corner of the balcony, looking over at the distance. you’re aware now that you are intruding in prince maekar’s space, and he seems to not notice your presence before you could even stop yourself muttering out an apology to him. you recognize him immediately, from his silver beard and his intimidating presence that are a stark contrast to his eldest brother’s welcoming aura. you wonder why he’s not out there with the others. 

“f-forgive me, i-“ you stuttered, and that earns you a glance from the scowling prince himself. “forgive me, your grace. i did not mean to intrude.” 

maekar looks at the woman before him who interrupted his silent brooding. the banquet was getting tiring by the minute, and he needed to get away from all the people around him. he was never one for grand celebrations. he was better at pleasantries like this when dyanna was still alive. that instills a feeling in him that feels too uncomfortable to let it linger in the open. he blinks, and he’s aware again of the woman before him, whose expression he observed, awfully too familiar. 

“you didn’t.” he says finally. it’s not warm nor cruel, just a simple assurance. he looks back at the waters, and the stars glimmering above. those words of his should’ve been a finality to end this awkward moment but… he glances back to see you remain in your place. 

the silence stretches as you carefully place your goblet down as you glance at the waters below too. maekar observes you again, to the colors of your dress, and to your nervous posture. then to your solemn expression. he knows your house’s colors, a minor house from the reach, but he does not recognize your face other than your father’s and brothers. 

“…if anything-“ he suddenly says, quieter. “you chose wisely.”

you blink in surprise, expecting to be dismissed like what you’ve been hearing about his known temper. but from the words you hear, the scowling prince before you is the opposite. or maybe mellowed down at this moment? you’re not sure, but the expression on his face tells you enough. one that you know awfully too well. 

“your grace does not favor celebrations like this?” you asked kindly. 

a scoff leaves his lips, dry and humorless. 

“i favor them more if they last quick enough.” he gulps his wine down, savoring the burn it does to his throat. you nod, looking back at the celebration from where you stand. his words carry an understanding that’s simple. 

you hesitate for a moment as you look at your empty goblet. “i thought i was the only one who hides from this.” 

that earns you another glance from him. “no. you’re not, my lady.” 

that springs you into realization. “i-i apologize again, your grace. i did not introduce myself before interrupting you…” 

maekar’s brows furrow for a moment as he hears you finally utter your name as you courtesy at him. he merely nodded as you shyly avert his gaze. your name he now recognizes. now he understands a bit why you’re here… with him, trying to get away from the chaos of the banquet of it all. he slowly walks towards you, and you stay in your place, a little intimidated with his stoic expression. 

“i recall your father attending court years ago with his eldest daughter.” he suddenly says. “was that you?”

“yes, your grace.” you nod. “i-i was not present in recent years… as you see.” 

“so i’ve heard.” he replies. it’s not met with any malice, only knowing. you wonder now if he knows what the people spewing around have been saying about you. 

widow. 

burden. 

too old to remarry. 

you wonder if princes like him hear gossip like that. 

or does he get the same treatment of that as well? you know of his late wife, it was hard not to hear about that. 

maekar watches your brows furrow for a moment, like you’re expecting him to say something that you’ve been hearing all night long. he knows about you, of course he has, but his information came from years ago. your late husband he had known through the battlefield, when the first blackfyre rebellion came. house tyrell swore to his father’s side, and came along the houses sworn to house tyrell. your husband was a good man, fought bravely during those times. 

grief, he thinks, is more evident to catch when he himself has been through it. 

so he settles for the words he utters to you now. hypocritical it was, but he does not know why he feels the urge to quell your sadness. 

“people tend to make what they hear from other’s mouths.” he starts, and you listen. “…but in the end, what fucks do you have to give when you know they’re all wrong anyway?” 

your eyes widened. his words carry truth in them. like he understands what it means to feel underneath prying eyes. you understand him now. 

“is that why we’re here, your grace? instead of being there?” you look to where the people are dancing around. 

“…partly.” he says, jaw tightening. “and partly they expect too much when they don’t understand, my lady.” 

“… you seem to be well versed in this, your grace.” your words left your mouth before you could even think to hold yourself back from offending him. “n-no offense, my prince. apologies.” 

“none taken.” he replied. it was a fresh thing to hear those words of yours rather than pitying lies being thrown at him. he has been also in the scrutiny of gossip since dyanna’s death. he did not like it all when they look at him like he’s weak. he did not like it when they try to console him, leaving dyanna out of the conversation like she’s just some sort of passing thing that happened. it was insulting, and he wonders if you too felt the same with that. you look at maekar, an overwhelming feeling pushes you to finally utter your own acknowledgment of the tragedy you once not wanted to talk about. 

“it has been so long since i last attended a banquet like this. i cannot remember the last time i danced except for my wedding…” you breathe out, your gaze catching your little sister dancing with a young lad her age. you’re reeled back in the past, when you were a maiden like her. 

“so do i.” maekar says, he too does not remember when the last time he danced except for his wedding as well. you turn to him at that, and in the dim light, you feel as if you’ve come to a quiet understanding with the prince. it shocks you to think that he, a mere stranger to you, could understand you better than your family or anyone else ever could. 

maekar sees your brows soften as your eyes shine in the candlelight. there’s a feeling in him that passes as he sees how soft you look. a small smile graces your lips as your lashes flutter. like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

“we seem to have something in common.” you try to jest, making light of the shared situation you two have. 

“more than most.” he replies dryly, drinking his wine. he looks at you intently, his bright eyes are a striking feature you reel in. 

“… i, thank you, your grace- you did not have to entertain my thoughts, i appreciate it nonetheless.” your cheeks feel warmer now. from the wine or from the sudden heaviness between you and him? 

“i should thank you, my lady, for being the first one to entertain me unlike those fools out there.” he openly said, unashamed how he addresses the others. the wine is making him feel more looser now as he watches your reaction. 

“fools?” you snort. 

“fools.” he merely nodded. you let out a tiny laugh, and it sticks with him until the day after. 

・゜゜・．

the tournament was grander than the banquet the following day. prince maekar’s words still linger in your head, and you can’t help but think about him again for some reason. the joust was the main spectacle today as you sit by your father while you watch your brother sit on his horse from where you can spot him. your sisters are sat beside you as you memorize the faces of the men who’s competing today. from time to time, you’ll whisper to your sisters what you know about them, as per your father’s commands. 

but you glance to your side from time to time, trying to make out where the king sits and his family situated beside him. and you spot him, prince maekar sits beside his eldest brother, silver hair shining through the sea of people. you don’t hear the horn signaling the start of the joust until one of your sisters grabbed your arm. 

“look!” your sister whispered. “one of the knights already fell!” 

you glance back to the joust, hearing the clashes of wood and horse’s neighing fills your senses. a knight of house lannister managed to unhorse someone from house hightower, and your sisters could not contain their expression of how serious the fall was. you can hear the poor knight’s cry of pain, making you wince. you observe your brother who seems to be still on his horse, which you hear your father proudly cheer for him. and others cheering loudly that makes you want to fall back in your seat. 

fools. you think as you wish to go back to the tents and be alone. 

you glance back again to where prince maekar sat. and your eyes meet his the moment you turn your head towards him. a warmness spreads to your cheeks, feeling caught, but you don't look away as he nods his head at you in acknowledgment. 

huh. 

you nod back at him with a small smile before finally urging yourself to look back at the joust. a feeling passes, but it lingers. you wonder if you’ll talk to him again. 

maekar wonders too.

・゜゜・．

the joust ended swiftly. and the day passed like any other. you did not see the prince that day to your disappointment. but you did your part perfectly as your father requested. every interaction your sisters had with their possible suitors were from your own gentle guidance. today, the second day of jousting was another bore, and you did not see him by the stands as well. you fell quiet now, thinking that you’ll never see him again. he is a prince, and you’re just some old widow that’s hoping too much for company. maybe that would be the next words thrown at you if someone saw you talking with him. 

and somewhere in the back of your mind, your late love comes up to haunt you again.

night fell shortly, another banquet was held. and you’re alone on the balcony. you look at the waters again, and take in the sea breeze that passes by. there’s no wine in your hand, you’re left alone with your thoughts. tomorrow will be the last day of the tournament, and you imagine yourself hiding away again. the loneliness wasn’t all consuming than today. the weight of your father’s words always reminded you of how much of a disappointment you are. even today, you still feel the sting of it even if it’s masked in commands for the sake of your sibling’s security. you sometimes wish they had sent you to the sept than this torture. 

a set of footsteps suddenly makes you stay still.

you turn around to be met with a young boy with the striking silver hair you’ve long to see. he blinks, eyes wide and shiny, like he doesn’t know where his little feet took him. worry etches your mind as you carefully approach him. 

“hello.” you greet him. 

“hi.” aegon mumbles back, and it makes your heart clench hearing his little voice stutter. 

“are you lost?” you soften your tone as you kneeled to match his height. aegon’s lips wobble as tiny tears started to run down his cheeks. he sniffles as you frown at him. “what’s wrong, little one?” 

he mumbles about how his older brother wouldn’t stop teasing him and he ran away, wanting to look for his septa. and he tells you that the music is too loud, and he just wants his mother. 

“oh, where’s your father? is he here? can i help you find him?” you gently wiped the tears off his cherub cheeks as he nodded. “what’s your name, little one?” 

“a-aegon.” he weakly whispered, and you nod, feeling a little intimidated that you have the grandson of the king in your hands. but you cannot leave him alone. 

“it’s nice to meet you, my prince.” you tell him as you say your name back for him to familiarize. you’re about to usher him to take your hand before another set of hurried footsteps interrupted both of you. 

“fuck’s sakes, here you are.” maekar grumbles as aegon’s face lights up the instant. he lets go of your hand as he rushes to the older man. 

“papa!” the little one hugs his knees. maekar lets out a tired sigh as he caresses the boy’s head before glancing at the septa behind him, whose face is frazzled. his soften expression turns to stone when the septa mumbles apologies to him. 

“take him back to his quarters now. i employed you to watch him, not to watch the fucking tables, didn’t i?” his tone was harsh as you stood still, not wanting to interrupt. he passes aegon to the septa who cowers in maekar’s gaze. 

“papa, the lady was very kind. she helped me wipe my face like what mama used to do.” he tells his father with much glee. a crack in his father’s expression passes. maekar only nods as aegon waves his hand at you in farewell. you merely smiled back as you’re now alone with the prince again. maekar’s gaze burns through you, and you felt like you’re under his scrutiny now. 

“he was crying?” he suddenly asks, no introduction whatsoever. just a question from a worried father, who’s still fuming from what just happened. 

“yes, your grace. he… stumbled here looking for his septa.” you explained as you fiddled with your fingers again. “i-i was about to escort him to find someone.”

his eyes finally softened, hearing your quiet explanation. you don’t know what else to say, feeling a little awkward. the realization of him having children completely escaped your mind the first night you talked with him. at least he has children, you think. that he isn’t that lonely without his wife, and his children are a reminder of his late wife in some way. and you? you didn’t even give your husband a child to continue his legacy. another failure you seem to have. 

“thank you, my lady.” he finally says.

“it was no problem, your grace.” you breathe out. 

neither of you move for a moment, only the sound of lively music and people chattering about fill in the void. maekar observes you again, you, the peculiar lady that he had an enlightening conversation with yesterday. 

“you’re here again.” he says, his tone quieter now. 

“it’s a nice spot to brood over.” you shrugged, your dress sways with the wind as maekar’s lips twitches, almost to a small smile. “…you weren’t at the joust today, your grace.” 

“i had matters to attend to.” he explains. “…with the children. they can’t seem to behave when i am not present.” 

the tiredness in his eyes tells you enough. you nod, giving him a small smile. “aegon has other siblings?” 

“aye. he’s more calm than his siblings.” he says fondly, and you can see the resemblance he has with his son. 

“he’s a kind lad you have.” you agreed.

“you seem well versed in handling children.” he gestures. 

“i have several younger siblings, your grace.” you explained with a slight laugh. “…i would have liked to have my own, but…” you let your words stop as you fiddle with your fingers again. 

“ah.” maekar awkwardly says. 

“…besides, i am well past the age of having children even if i want to have one. i first have to have a husband, of course.” you snort, and you regretted ever saying that to him. 

“you speak as if things ended already.” he suddenly lays down. maekar steps forward to come stand beside you. and you welcome him, making space between the two of you. 

“hasn’t it, your grace?” you say quickly. maekar glances at you, trying to understand what you meant by that. “i am old and widowed. i have no children… no prospects. i am already a deadweight to my family. i speak only the truth-“ 

“is it? or is it what the people around you have decided to tell you that?” his gaze sharpens. you reel in to his words and closeness. it settles within you heavily, and you wonder why he seems to press on you for this.

“it’s easier to hear them speak what they think than to hope for something.” you say with mirth. “…i have already accepted i would not remarry again after he…he-“ 

maekar waits a breath. 

“…but i wished i had children. maybe it would have been easier.” you settle for that. 

“i have children.” he tells you. “but it didn’t become easier when she passed.”  

the way he says it with such hurt concealed reminds you of your own. 

“then you must understand what i was saying.” you argued. 

“i do.” he nods. “but i do not see the point of thinking that you have done nothing for yourself or your family, my lady.” 

“are you saying that you don’t think about that as well? you are a man, you have more rights-“ you finally stop yourself. “forgive me, your grace. i just… i am confused… why tell me this?”

maekar’s jaw tightened. he himself does not fully know why he chose to talk with you, still. but the way you look at him with those glassy eyes of yours breaks something within him. like he himself is realizing his own thoughts about what it’s like to lose someone you love and be afraid… be afraid of what comes next. and wallow in loneliness while letting people judge what they don’t understand. 

“perhaps i do not want someone else to end up like myself. brooding about in the fucking corner of the garden.” he jests, and you finally let out a laugh. you cover your mouth, embarrassed how loud you were. maekar’s lips curved up, and you can’t help but like the way he smiles. his beard really does give him that look. 

a quiet moment passes. it’s more comfortable now. 

“does it ever get easier?” you suddenly ask, thinking about your late husband. maekar merely hums, it has been three years since dyanna passed away in childbirth. the memory still stings him, and he himself isn’t sure if it ever gets easier. 

“fuck no.” he whispered, and you shake your head with a chuckle. 

“i guess so.” you look at him, and he looks back. his eyes softened seeing your tired smile. it’s so strange that you manage to feel something more close than ever with him. maekar thinks the same as he settles beside you. like you both knew something was starting. 

it’s nice. you both think. and you don’t feel bad now for feeling something at least. which you don’t realize. 

・゜゜・．

on the last day, you have been seeing more of prince maekar from time to time. some sneaking glances and quiet conversations in the garden… sometimes, even walks around the tourney. people around have already noticed, and your father indeed noticed it as well. he was not pleased at all as he scolded you in private. 

“i do not need you seducing a prince for seven’s sake- i brought you here to help your sisters.” he seethes as you stay quiet. “you are past the age of marriage, and your sisters are not. you are widowed, i hope you remember that.” 

his words stings, but you were tired of arguing with him. your silence had your father sighing as he sat behind his desk. the tent you are in feels hollow and uncomfortable. you wish you could bury yourself in the soil with how your father treats you. you’re about to leave, not until you’re met with maekar’s familiar face. 

“your grace.” you huff out, surprised. 

“my lady.” he greets back as he glances at your father, who suddenly springs up from his seat. you watch as your father ushers him to sit, but maekar stops him with a gesture and a slight scowl.

“i wish to speak with your father.” he explains to you gently. 

“of course.” you nod before stepping out the tent. you wonder what he wanted to talk about with your father all of the sudden. 

a few moments transpired before maekar suddenly appeared out of the tent. you glance at him curiously before he bids you a farewell, gently grasping your hand to kiss your knuckles as a goodbye. your cheeks warm at the open gesture as you bid him a farewell before going in the tent again.

your father sits there, looking like he was just told something so… profound or dire? 

“his grace asked for an alliance… with us.” your father explained, staring into the distance. “that’s enough to secure our land at last… we wouldn’t have to keep living on eggshells anymore with house targaryen’s help-“ 

he finally glances at you. 

“but he asked for an alliance in exchange for your hand.” 

you blink, not really registering his words just yet… not until a burst of laughter flows through you making your father sigh as he didn’t know if he should be happy that one of his daughters is getting married…again. but you just laugh, thinking how absurd your prince is with this sudden way of getting your affection and attention. 

and what a way to begin something, at least. 

・゜゜・．

[fhrlclln]

I loved you Maekar x beautiful wife headcanons. Could you please write some headcanons about what Aerion and Daeron is like with her.

a/n: im having such a bad writer’s block rn but here you go, anon. 😭🙏

maekar and his popular wife with aerion and daeron ˚｡⋆

okay, so with daeron, i feel like he’s mildly uninterested at first with you.

he’s heard about you for sure… and kinda shocked his father managed to snag you. lol.

but after your marriage with maekar, he got to know you better since you moved in.

he’s kind to you, of course, a gentleman he is.

with all the glamour people have been painting you as, he likes that he can see your personality in the flesh rather than those gossip.

he likes talking with you, and you like talking with him… when he’s sober.

he’s ashamed when you sometimes find him passed out somewhere or hear maekar rant about him.

you’re kind to him, and he appreciates that. alongside your gentle scolding of taking care of himself is what he likes about you the most.

now aerion… he’s a little shit to you.

he’s also heard about you, of course. and thinks you’re just as dull as everyone else.

sometimes he’ll taunt you about your age and why his father chose you to marry. just to rile you up for funs.

he would also throw in some gossip surrounding you just to get your reaction.

you know aerion’s personality when he’s out of maekar’s sight. and you take advantage of that which he hates.

of course, you do want to form a bond with your husband’s children no matter what. but aerion proves to be a pain in the ass unlike the others.

overall, i think your relationship with maekar’s eldest maekarlings are a bit distant than your relationship with the little ones you can grow a bond with.

but in the end, you’ll always place them in a special spot in your heart. even aerion… LMAO.