#╰ (✪∀<) ~ *:･ﾟ✧ They locked me up and took my soul‚ ashamed of what they’d made. ◜☆◞ UNKNOWN.

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @petalbound asked: Kyouka - for the sender’s muse to step between the receiver’s muse and a threat to protect them .

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 always happened in their line of work. Being pitted against GROWN ADULTS twice their age and height all for the sake of OTHER grown adults. This was nothing but an every day occurrence for them ( or at least, every day the Boss decided to pull them out of their cell for some reason or another ).

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤBut today, they find themselves having TROUBLE. It already took enough effort to break into the place and take what the Boss had wanted ( just more stupid grown up stuff that had nothing to do with them ). Yet, they find themselves CORNERED by gang members that they had obviously UPSET a great deal with their act of theft.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThey could just CURSE EVERYONE HERE. All it would take was spilling some of their own blood. It was always a pain to get themselves hurt — but if they could see the people that HURT THEM suffer and AVOID PUNISHMENT from the mafia, it was worth it.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤBefore they or the other men could take any action though, they find a figure donning a FAMILIAR RED KIMONO obscuring their view of their would - be assailants.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤKyouka - san ? What are YOU doing here ?ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒅𝒆𝒅 with masses of people upon the streets. Nothing unusual for a place that called itself a CITYㅤ—ㅤbut the sheer amount of people DID make the child rather nervous. Not because of any sort of fear of crowds or crowded spacesㅤ—ㅤbut for much more DISTRESSING reason in the child's mind.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe child leans closer to their companion; lowering their voice so that only she could hear them. With such a quiet tone did they speak their WORRIES to the other girl.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤDo you think ALL these people are going to the ice cream place ?ㅤ❜

@starsoath

Kyouka didn’t have enough time nor money to know all the different ice cream places—-in fact, even if she memorized the locations on the map, she hadn’t been to even half of the ones in Yokohama, including the shop she was currently leading them to. But it should be fine, based on the reviews she’d seen; besides, short of serious health code violations, she doubted any ice cream place could be considered bad.

There were fancier ones she needed to save up more money for, though, and perhaps she’d invite Q when she finally had enough. And perhaps she’d invite an adult who could pay for them both instead.

“I will,” came her solemn vow—-to no thought in particular. When they arrived at a street with more pedestrians, she navigated through the crowd carefully to avoid bumping into anyone… and to avoid letting anyone bump into Q, especially.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter VII: Landslide 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Life goes on, even with a broken heart. Can you and Aemond move forward as bandmates, and not partners?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, smut, feral lovemaking, P in V, toxic family dynamic, angst

Word count: 5000

A/N: As always, thank you so much for helping me my lovely Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵

You dismiss another call from an unknown number with an annoyed flick of your finger and continue reading the document in front of you, eyes scanning over the deed poll forwarded to you by your solicitor.

Back to only carrying your maiden name. Targaryen officially removed.

It’s strange, like the marriage never happened.

You can’t decide if the thought is comforting or devastating. What would your life be like if you’d never met Aemond? No fervid passion. No ruinous heartache.

Last year, you couldn’t imagine a day when you wouldn’t be by his side. The man you called family. Your husband.

It’s official. You’re not family anymore.

Aemond’s voice is hushed as he speaks to his grandfather out on the balcony. He’d asked you to wait in the living room as he took the call, but not being by his side makes you feel restless.

You knew Otto would be ruthless; stooping impossibly low in order to make Aemond rethink his decision to leave the firm to pursue the band full time.

He finally emerges from the balcony, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion and face hollow. You shift your body slightly on the sofa, bringing your arms out so he can sit down next to you and fall into your embrace.

He does exactly that.

Your fingers come up to comb through his hair as you gently ask, “What did he say?”

Aemond just sighs as he moves to hide his face in the crook of your neck, arms leisurely placed around your waist.

You already know the answer.

That he was ashamed of having a quitter for a grandson. That Aemond will never amount to anything without his grandfather. That he’s too intelligent to think that pursuing a band could be a viable career path.

“What do I do now”, he mumbles defeatedly against your skin.

You tap his cheek lightly with the tip of your finger to make him look up at you.

Your eyes lock, and you place your hand on his cheek, gently stroking your thumb over his cheekbone,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other”

You seal your reassurance with a kiss, and he eagerly reciprocates, pushing himself up to hover over you. You sink further into the sofa cushions as he surges down to kiss you again.

And again.

His kisses are slow and forceful, nearly sucking the soul out of you, leaving you breathless.

You soon find yourself in your shared bed, Aemond arms still wrapped tightly around you.

He lets his forehead down to rest against yours, and gazes into your eyes with an almost manic stare as he whispers,

“You’re my everything”

Each of his kisses, touches and whispers echo the devotion he feels for you, and warmth spreads like wildfire in your chest. This must be what it feels like to have someone love you entirely.

When the two of you become one, he rolls his hips against yours unhurriedly, sending pleasurable sparks through your body. It feels so, so good all you can do is moan, and you bring one hand up to grab a fistful of the hair at the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss.

The only sound in the room, in the entire flat, is your matching breaths as you entwine pants and moans, lips never leaving the other’s.

You can hardly form a coherent thought as each of his thrusts makes his pelvis press against your clit,

“Don’t come yet”, he breathes into your mouth and kisses you again. You nod obediently.

He turns you so that you're on your side and lays down right behind you.

His large hand caresses the smooth skin of your thigh before grabbing your flesh, draping your leg over his hips as he begins to rut into you, a bit harsher than before.

You reply with a moan, letting him know how good he feels. Your hand searches his, still on your thigh, and you hold onto it for some stability as your body jolts forward with each harsh snap of his hips.

He goes harder, thrusting into you with his face pressed to you cheek, mumbling in your ear,

“Feels so fucking good, baby”

You moan again and move your face slightly to place another wet kiss on his cheek. They’re flustered, and the top of his ears are almost as red as his face. There’s a determined look in his eye that wasn’t there before, fiery in a stern way that doesn’t quite match your passionate love-making.

Using his arm for leverage, he lifts his body slightly, fucking you harder and harder. Your body gets pushed into the mattress and you find yourself on your stomach, one hand sneaking down to rub circles between your thighs. Aemond grunts as your walls clench down on his length, his face now shielded in your hair.

“I’d fucking die for you, you know”, he grits out, continuing his merciless pace.

Though your peak is nearing rapidly, rendering your brain nearly useless, you feel like something’s not right.

He sounds angry.

You turn your head from where it’s pushed into the mattress. He looks deranged; hair falling in front of his face and pupil blown wide, eyes filled with something you can’t really decipher.

But it’s not purely lust.

You call his name and bring your hand up to stroke his cheek, searching for his eyes. He keeps his gaze on your body, refusing to look up and meet your concerned frown.

“Aemond, are you okay?”

He dismissively grunts at your question, but slows down and finally meets your eyes.

Is he upset?

You’re not sure what’s going on, but you see that sadness reflect in his eyes; the same vulnerability that pops up whenever he feels threatened.

When he feels like he might lose you.

It’s usually obscured by anger, but now it seems too potent for him to suppress.

Staring into his seeing eye, you console him,

“I love you too, Aemond”

His expression falls.

His eyes shine with sadness.

It makes you sad too. If he’d only let you in on what makes him like this, you could help him; reassure him that whatever it is he fears won’t come true. But he doesn’t let you in.

And all you can do is watch.

The movement of his hips falters, and he says nothing, only breathes heavily.

The hand you have resting on his cheek slowly travels down to his chest, and you push him gently, gesturing for him to lay down on his back.

He follows your silent instructions without protest.

You turn around and move one of your legs so that you’re straddling him, hands resting on his chest. You slowly sink down on his cock, feeling whole again as it stretches you out in the most perfect way.

You moan and throw your head back, setting a slow, steady pace. Your hips move up and down, front and back.

Aemond’ s hands squeeze your hips harshly as he matches your rhythm, bucking up into you, losing himself to pleasure once more.

“You feel so good, baby”, you tell him, pace never faltering,

“No one could ever make me feel as good as you do”

He moans, one hand moving from your hip to your breast, cupping it and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You sigh in pleasure and lay down on top of him, hands moving to cup his face. Your thumb strokes the marred side of his face, and you notice his gaze flickering away from yours. With a persistent grip, you push on the side of his face to make him look into your eyes again,

“You’re mine. And I’m yours”

Your lips meet his, and the kiss you thought would be slow and sweet turns heated as Aemond harshly grabs your body again, arms wrapping around your waist. He bucks up faster, fucking you harder, and with a startled, pleasure-drunk cry into his mouth, you abruptly peak. He follows with a loud groan, and moves his face to the crook of your neck again, just like earlier in the evening.

He holds your body securely against himself, and after a while, you try to pry his arms away and get off him, but he just mumbles into your neck,

“No, please”

You lay your head back down and close your eyes. Aemond is deadly silent, but you feel his breath against the skin over your collarbones, and something wet slides down the hollow of your neck.

Shut out and without being allowed in, you try to soothe him the only way you know how,

“I love you”

Two days have passed since your live show in Winterfell, and your phone won’t stop buzzing with incoming calls from unknown numbers.

You know they’re from journalists hoping to get a comment from you about the performance and your new song, the drama of it clearly being about your ex husband fuelling their thirst for gossip.

You’d spent the time since the concert in isolation, essentially doing nothing besides watching TV and eating takeaway in your hotel room.

You left Winterfell yesterday, boarding an overnight flight to Oldtown for your next show.

Today, you’ve finally found a reason to get out of the hotel room, planning on an afternoon looking around the vintage shops that are scattered around the narrow cobblestone streets of the quaint town.

You spend nearly an hour in your favourite boutique; a hidden gem a few minutes away from one of the more famous shopping streets of the city.

When you and Aemond were still together, you often came to Oldtown to visit his mum. Seeking some familiarity after her husband, Viserys Targaryen, passed away, she decided to move back to her hometown and hasn’t left since.

Alicent thrived in the town she grew up in, and whenever you came to visit, she eagerly showed you around all the places she’d frequented with her friends as a young girl.

Aemond, in turn, had shown you his favourite spots as well; bookstores, record shops, and organic coffee shops. You remember that one time he tried to convince you that the all-natural, no sugar brownie he’d ordered tastes just as good as the real deal. The face of betrayal you made as you took a large bite of the brick-flavoured monstrosity he’d dared call a brownie caused Aemond to release the most out-of-character belly laugh you’ve ever heard.

The memory still pulls your lips into a smile.

Stop it!

You try to shake your head in a feeble attempt to erase the train of thought. You need to make new memories here now.

Memories not tainted by him.

The last rays of sun for the day shine through the gaps between the ancient buildings cramped together on the streets when you decide to make your way back to the hotel. You pull out your phone to type in the address, still not familiar with navigating Oldtown on your own. The map on your phone shows that it’s a 15 minutes walk along the water to your destination, the perfectly idyllic end to a quite okay afternoon.

The sun quickly sets behind the stoney, worn houses surrounding you, and street lights illuminate your path as you walk, enjoying the calmness of the rather large city. Most people have returned home as darkness envelops the streets, leaving you alone on your way back.

You turn to walk down one of the sidestreets towards the hotel, when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out from your thoughts.

You abruptly stop and look back, catching the gaze of a man you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you in a way that makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

Still with his hand on your shoulder, he asks,

“Aren’t you the singer from Dragon Dreamers?”

“Yes”, you reply, unsure of how to assess him. There’s something in his intense stare that causes unease to chill you from within, yet you appear to be frozen in place.

You have been approached by fans on occasion before, but never alone in a somewhat unfamiliar city.

“I’m a huge fan. This might be a bit forward, but could I take you out to dinner?”

The hand he has placed on your shoulder squeezes your flesh over your jacket. His eyes are expectant, not blinking, and his voice is slightly strained, adding to your already uncomfortable state.

“Thank you, but I’m on my way back to my hotel, and-, I-, I need to get back”

Your answer is hurried and clumsy, and you hope the stranger will understand your discomfort and leave you alone.

“Oh, where are you staying?”

His eyes light up when he adds,

“I can walk with you”

“That’s kind of you, really, but not necessary, I’m okay. Thanks”

You try to hide the dismissal behind a veil of politeness, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave you alone.

You turn around to walk away, almost stumbling over your own feet as they move quickly over the cobblestoned streets.

The man doesn’t say anything else, but you notice him in the corner of your eyes. He starts walking in the same direction as you, only a few steps behind. He’s close enough to keep you within his sight, far away enough for it to seem innocent.

Is he going to hurt you?

Your heart beats faster.

Force himself into your hotel room?

You can hear your heart drumming in your ears, panic washing over you.

You don’t dare to look back at him, afraid that he might take it as another invitation to engage you in conversation, but he stays in the corner of your eye; like an ever-looming monster.

Luckily, there’s a small group of people walking ahead of you, oblivious to the fact that you’re being followed by an unknown man.

What would he do if they weren’t here?

Your steps grow quicker.

You glance at your phone; still a 10 minutes walk until you reach the hotel. The man behind you speeds up his footsteps as well, matching your pace while staying a few metres behind you.

You’re still too scared to look behind and properly face him. The small group of people walking ahead of you look like they might turn by a sidestreet at any moment, and fear pierces your heart at the thought.

Then you’d be alone. With him.

Maybe there’s a corner shop or something around here where you can pop in and spend enough time for him to get bored and leave?

Or maybe you can call someone to come and meet you?

Looking up at the buildings surrounding you, you realise that you recognise this street.

This is the area where Alicent lives.

Maybe he’s staying there?

Before you can think any further, your fingers press on the screen of your phone, going into settings, unblocking the familiar number before pressing the little telephone icon.

You hear two signals before the call is cancelled.

Fuck! Now he ignores your calls?

Your fingers move quickly as you type out,

“sorry someone’s following me I’m walking home please pick up”.

Barely a second passes before your phone buzzes.

“Hi! Yes, I’m just around the corner, can you see me yet?”, you ask in a way too hurried tone, ruining your own attempt at sounding casual.

Your voice is loud and high-pitched as you try to signal to the man behind you that someone’s coming to meet you.

Hopefully he’ll give up his pursuit and leave you alone.

“What street are you on?”

You can hear Aemond shuffling around on the other side; picking up keys and putting on his shoes.

You look up at one of the buildings, reading the name of the street,

“Yes, I’m standing on Gardener Avenue, where you told me to meet you”, you continue to babble, hoping the shadow behind you will finally stop following you as it appears you’re about to meet someone.

“Do you remember the way to the apartment?”

“Yes"

“Walk towards it, I’m coming out to meet you. Stay on the phone with me”

Aemond sounds calm, but there’s something urgent hiding in his stoicism.

“Yes”

The conversation dies out. You’re not really on small-talking terms, so trying to fill the silence between the two of you proves tricky. Despite the silence and awkwardness, the panic that had been sprinting within you seems to ease knowing that Aemond is there.

The group in front of you eventually turn down a sidestreet, and in the corner of your eye, you see the man behind you walk faster, coming closer.

Another wave of fear crashes over you, and your heart beats so fiercely your chest hurts.

Is Aemond coming?

Maybe if you pretend to see him, you’ll finally be left alone.

“I think I see you!”, you exclaim in vain, hoping the man behind you won’t see through your lie.

He’s right behind you, so close you can hear his laboured breaths. You can’t breathe.

But then, you see the familiar silhouette of a tall man with broad shoulders appear in quick and confident steps around a corner.

The unknown man behind you seems to retreat in an instant, but it doesn’t stop Aemond from calling out,

“Were you fucking following her?”

He’s gone before any further confrontation. Left is you and Aemond, alone on a dark, empty street.

Closing your eyes, you try to take a few deep breaths to ground yourself, still feeling unnerved from what had just happened.

Breathe in.

Hold three seconds.

Breathe out.

Hold three seconds.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t open your eyes.

You can’t look up at him, knowing that the flicker of hatred in his eye as he regards you will push you over the edge; push you to release the tears that have been waiting to spill since the strange man first laid his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just need to get back to the hotel”, you mumble and inhale deeply once again to ground yourself.

It doesn’t help, not really.

The lump in your throat feels like a painful stone blocking your airflow.

You feel Aemond step closer to you, tenderly placing a hand on your elbow as he silently waits for you to continue.

You reluctantly open your eyes to look up at him, surprised to find his face reflect gentle understanding. The unexpected act of kindness pushes you over the edge and you let out a shaky breath as you feel the pent-up tears spill from your eyes,

“Sorry, it’s just-, I mean, nothing happened, but…”

One of your hands comes up to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks.

“Something could’ve happened”, Aemond finishes for you. He sounds like he usually does; stoic, but you can sense the hint of sympathy there.

“Sorry for calling you so suddenly, I shouldn’t have-, I didn’t know who to call…”

The words tumble out of your mouth ungracefully, matching the hurried pace of your still frightened heart.

“Don’t apologise”

He squeezes your elbow softly in reassurance,

“Come back to mum’s place with me”, he says, “It’s just around the corner”

“No, really, I’m fine! Nothing happened and I need to rest before tomorrow’s show”, you explain as more tears slide down your cheeks.

Fucking stop crying.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Come up, just for a cup of tea to calm your nerves. Please?”

Aemond’s voice is more gentle than you remember him capable of.

Defeated, you reply with a silent nod and let him lead you back to his mum’s home.

As you step into Alicent’s lavish apartment, you're hit by nostalgia so potent it makes more tears well up in your already damp eyes.

Everything smells the same.

Everything looks the same.

“Is she here?”, you ask, voice small and unsteady.

“She’s out having dinner with Cole”

Aemond takes off his shoes and neatly places them on the shoe rack. He moves to the kitchen to fill the kettle and you follow closely behind, discreetly sweeping the back of your hand against your cheek to wipe away the tears that keep sliding down.

Fucking pull it together!

Aemond flicks his hand towards the chair by the small, round table in the corner of the kitchen; the breakfast nook where Alicent would serve coffee and fresh bread in the morning whenever you stayed over.

It’s all so familiar, yet being here feels so different; almost taboo. Like you’re not allowed here anymore.

You sit down and place your hands on the table, nervously tapping your fingers together as you wait for Aemond to bring the tea over.

He places the flower-patterned cup with gold details by your restless hands and sits down in the chair opposite yours,

“Drink”, he encourages and takes a sip from his own cup, seeing eye watching you intensely.

You pick up the cup, experimentally sipping, letting the hot beverage warm you from within.

It’s comforting.

“Do you really tell yourself I never loved you?”

Aemond’s sudden question takes you by such surprise, you nearly choke on your tea.

Your eyes dart up from watching the cup in your hand to watch him. His expression is as calculated as always; not letting you in on what he’s thinking. Still, his voice is gentle, like it’s been since he came to your rescue.

“I-”, you begin, trying to come up with an answer to his absurd query.

Why is he asking you this now?

“I mean, sometimes it felt like you didn’t love me”, you answer truthfully, carefully observing his reaction.

He gives nothing away as he hums in response.

“You seemed miserable being with me”, you add, wondering if this is the long overdue heart-to-heart both of you have been avoiding.

“Sometimes I was”, he replies matter of factly.

You’re not surprised by his response, not really, but having your suspicions confirmed allows you to prod further,

“I guess I just wonder whether you loved me, or just the idea of me?”

You know you’re poking a resting bear, but you can’t help yourself. You need to know what he thinks about all of this.

About you.

Aemond doesn’t blink when he answers,

“You were my first love”

You feel that all too familiar lump in your throat reappear.

“It was all so new to me, caring about someone so much. Someone who’s not family. I didn’t know how to handle those feelings”, he admits and you have to stop yourself from letting the astonishment you feel from his confession show on your face.

It’s quiet for a while. You are too shocked by Aemond’s sudden introspection, and he’s still cautious about opening up, observing you expectantly.

After a few deep breaths and some soothing tea, you speak up,

“I know things have been hard for you Aemond, and I-, I really tried to understand you. But my sympathy for you wasn’t endless… It-, I ran out”

You really don't want to fight, you don’t think you could handle it in the state you’re in now, but being honest with your ex husband always came with the risk of him lashing out.

He sighs, leans back, and locks eyes with you,

“I know. Thank you for… trying”

And that’s it. The conversation dies, like it’s run its course. Just like your relationship.

Aemond calls a taxi for you to bring you the short distance to the hotel. Both of you stay in your seats, waiting for your ride in silence.

There’s still one thing you need to tell him.

“I really want this to work, Aemond. The band, I mean”

Aemond hums in response again, finger tapping rhythmically against the top of Alicent’s kitchen table,

“Me too”, he replies after some time of silence.

It almost feels official in a way, the fact that you’ve finally agreed with each other that the band comes first; even before your broken hearts.

The silence persists as you down the last of your tea.

You feel a strange mixture of emptiness and melancholy inside. It all hits you at once; the divorce, removing his name from yours, continuing on as nothing more than business partners.

It starts as a sting in your chest, but blooms out into a suffocating ache.

He doesn’t want you anymore.

And you don’t want him; can’t want him.

It does not matter how wonderful it had been at times. The pain of the heartache you caused each other weighs heavier. And there’s nowhere to go but forward, even if your heart breaks with each step.

Life goes on.

The performance in Oldtown is just as exhilarating as the previous lives had been.

The crowd is loving every second and the venue is packed.

You feel alive.

This is it.

This is what matters.

Your biggest hit from your first album, Landslide, is a permanent feature in any show you play.

You’d written it from the sidelines, watching as duty tore the person you loved most into every direction possible.

Tonight, as you stay on the stage with Aemond and your band members retreat backstage, singing Landslide suddenly feels different.

You shoot him a quick glance before approaching your mic to introduce the next song.

They’re shouting your name, shouting Aemonds name, and you think you hear someone yell out ‘the sound of the woman that loved you!’

Speaking with Aemond earlier today, when you agreed you’d prioritise the band over any dispute you had, has left you nostalgic. Singing ‘Landslide’ feels like offering a piece of your heart, the heart he had held in his palm, to him once again.

“I wrote this song about a boy who had to grow up too fast”, you say, and Aemond starts to pluck the strings of his guitar.

‘I took my love and I took it down’

‘I climbed a mountain and I turned around’

‘And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills’

'Til the landslide brought me down’

You’d never told Aemond you wrote this song about him and his grandfather.

There was never any need to. You’re convinced that he already knows it’s about them.

You can’t help but to look over at him; at the way his hands move gracefully over the guitar.

‘Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?’

‘Can the child within my heart rise above?’

Leaving his grandfather’s firm and subsequently leaving the path his entire life had led to had been tough for him, even with you by his side.

And now he’ll have to navigate this new course alone.

You still find yourself worrying about him; for the boy robbed of his vision, forced to grow up faster than most.

‘Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?’

‘Can I handle the seasons of my life?’

‘Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you’

He’s had to adapt; had to rethink and relearn everything before.

He will be fine.

Maybe you just worry about him because you hope, somewhere inside, that he won’t be fine without you?

A selfish wish for him to need you.

‘But time makes you bolder’

‘Even children get older’

‘And I'm getting older too’

It’s time to let go.

For the first time since the beginning of the tour, you don’t feel an urgent need to escape to the solitude of your hotel room as soon as the show is over.

You move unhurried backstage, gathering your things, looking over your stage outfits, pondering if you’ll wear the same thing each night or mix it up.

Just when you’re about to leave, you see auburn hair flash by as Alicent Hightower enters the backstage area, throwing her arms around her two children, loudly gushing over how incredible the show had been.

You go back to inspect your wardrobe with your back turned to them, suddenly feeling stiff and awkward with your ex mother-in-law in the room.

You haven’t seen her in months, not since before the divorce.

As the chatter behind you dies down, the clicking of heels grows louder before coming to a halt.

You know she’s standing behind you, one gentle hand coming up to lightly tap your back.

You turn around with a forced smile on your face.

How do you act around your ex-husband’s mother?

Alicent’s large, warm eyes shimmer as she looks you over, grabbing your shoulders to pull you in for a hug.

“Darling, what an incredible show! You were absolutely fantastic”, she compliments, smiling wide.

You smile back at her,

“Thank you, Alicent”

“How are you holding up?”

Her tone is soft, and her hands stay on both sides of your shoulders.

“I’m good”, you reply shortly, not really sure whether you should confide in your ex-husband's mother or not.

“I’m so glad you can put your differences aside and continue to work together”, she says sympathetically, but her choice of words make you wince slightly.

“And now is your opportunity to be brave. You’re both such wonderful artists. Focus on the music, alright?”

“Yes”

Your answer sounds meek. Her words send a pang straight to your heart.

It’s all so final.

It’s all over.

You look into each other’s eyes, a thousand words said within mere seconds as you feel your eyes well up with tears.

Alicent offers you a sad smile before embracing you in another warm hug.

Silent, hot tears slide down your cheeks as you mumble into her hair, “Will you take care of him?”

She pats your head, hand sliding down to stroke your hair lovingly, And then she hums, sounding so much like her son.

“Mm. Thank you for loving him”

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!

[theircurse-archive4]

⊹ ✦ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ✴ * : ★ 【 @dreadmorgue 】 ★ : * ✴ ‧ ⁺ ꙳✦ ⊹

╰ ★ cont. from 「 X 」

╰  ★  █║  ⁞    —     ˗ˏˋ       𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 was that the child saw the red substance ALL the time. Coming from the bodies of those who dared to oppose the mafia, coming from the bodies from the mafia members, coming from their own body ... and it was USUALLY a far greater amount than that tiny little cut on the man's palm. The sight that the man probably thought would be upsetting HARDLY fazed them.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤThe child stands there; wondering if they should do or say anything else. Moments later, their own hands would slip into their pockets; only to pull out a rather CUTESY looking Hello Kitty bandage. Probably a bit silly for the older man's tastes but they hold the bandage out to him anyway.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ Will THIS help ? ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @neardeathdetective asked: ‍"My....you have quite the funeral procession behind you." Vivia hadn't entirely meant to voice his thoughts, but perhaps it was just the surprise at the amount of malicious spirits following this child around. Were they called here by them? Or were they attracted to them for some reason? Vivia couldn't be sure with the little information he had.

"Doesn't it get tiring, to carry around all of that burden?"

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑨𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 at this so - called ' funeral possession ' that appeared behind them today. It was as if they had known exactly where to look; as if this was NOT the first time that something so SUPERNATURAL and BEYOND REASONING had happened to them before. Some spirits they recognized, some they vaguely remembered, and some they didn't even recall at all. They were all probably victims of their abilityㅤ—ㅤor perhaps something even WORSE.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤWhat they were most surprised about was that someone ELSE could see the dead. No one else ever could beforeㅤ—ㅤthey had always dismissed those spirits as HALLUCINATIONS and nothing more.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛���Hmmmㅤ—ㅤyeah ! They're really creepy and they're hard to get away from ! But I didn't think you'd be able to SEE them too !ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏; wondering just what sort of name the man would come up with. The man seemed like the mysterious and probably creative typeㅤ—ㅤsurely, he could come up with SOMETHING neat !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤAnd then, he says it. ' HARU '. The child's eyes narrow as they hold up their brand new doll; turning it about every so often as if thoroughly examining it and trying to match a name to its plush visage. But their sights soon turn back to the man and they smile bright.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHARU is perfect ! And Haru likes it too ! It's the best name ever ! ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤAnd we're all going to be the BEST of friends ! Right, Poe - san ? ㅤ❜

"Oh... you want me to name her?"

Genuine surprise crosses Edgar's features at the offer. He's had experience coming up with plenty of names, playing with his own cast of dolls in the world of his own writing. Their importance is something he knows all too well--and here he has been tasked with it. As a symbol of friendship.

"I'd love to. Let's see, then..." He's often fond of older-sounding names, but he'll have to think of something that's easy to remember and pronounce for Yumeno, and preferably similar in origin. Standing up straight, he puts a hand to his chin in thought. "How about... Haru?"

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @puppetmuseum asked: ‍surprise you now have a rabid dog u mean— medicine pocket with yumeno’s doll in their mouth and shaking it around as if it was a dog’s chew toy. Have fun with that.

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒐ㅤ—ㅤand yet somehow, it was a LOT less charming. Dogs were cut and fluffyㅤ—ㅤand most of the time, they didn't even know better ! What dog WOULDN'T be enticed by a doll momentarily left unattended and mistake it for a chew toy ?

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThisㅤ—ㅤwas CLEARLY not a dog. This was a full grown adult with their doll caught between their jaws.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThey weren't QUITE sure what to make of the situationㅤ—ㅤbut this person was INSANE. And that was coming from them.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHEY ! Give that back, you creep !ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

⊹ ✦ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ✴ * : ★ 【 @yearningxhearts ( Ukyo ) 】 ★ : * ✴ ‧ ⁺ ꙳✦ ⊹

╰ ★ cont. from 「 X 」

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ' 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 'ㅤ—ㅤ𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. Perhaps if this conversation took place many years prior, the child would have said that they and the BANDAGED MAN were friends. But now, they were older and wiserㅤ—ㅤand they knew that the relationship they had once treasured was a LIE all along.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤNope ! We're NOT friends ! He's kind of mean and REALLY dumb !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe child chimes; tone cheery as they brush off the incident as if were NOTHING. Rather than focus on someone so stupid; all of their attention fell onto the mysterious man that their ' Onii - san ' had harassed.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤI think you look like a man ! He's just STUPID !ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 before the woman emerges from the shadows; the trashcan COMPELTELY DEVOID of the garbage that had once been housed within. Every last bit of waste was gone and the child could only assume that it had went into the mafia's dinner that day. Oh, they couldn't help but GRIN as the disgusted expressions of mafia men came to their head.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤOkay !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe smile NEVER leaves their face as they begin to follow the woman. Hopefully no one would question WHY they were carrying an empty trash can around. Or rather, hopefully those mafia men were too stupid to figure out something was up.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHow MANY people do you think will eat it ?ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe child asks; keeping their voice low so no one could overhear their conversation. Just in case ANYONE ELSE was around.

The woman nodded, the corners of her lips just barely curled in a way that gave the smallest hint of a smile if someone could catch a detail that minor. She took the small trashcan and looked around the room for a place the overhead lights didn’t quite reach. Once she did, she walked to that darker corner and used that absence of light to merge into the darkness of the wall, taking the trash with her.

She was gone for only a few minutes, but she soon returned from that same dark corner, holding a now empty trashcan. “…This trashcan needs to be returned to the correct office. I’ll go with you…” She wasn’t tagging along just because she wanted to. Lia knew that Yumeno could get in trouble if they were found in the Port Mafia building all alone without any supervision. If she was with them, she could lie and say she needed them for something important.

Lia was a damn excellent liar, after all.

@theircurse

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ —@starspurn asked: ❛ i am the villain in every story . ❜ / bram!

↳ -: ☆ ( 𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐀𝐃  𝐆𝐔𝐘𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒂 ' 𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 ' ? A villain was someone who did BAD THINGS. Villains hurt people. Villains killed people. Villains did everything they could to break down people to absolute NOTHING. People viewed them as a villainㅤ—ㅤand perhaps they were a villain as well. They certainly fit the criteria for a villain. But wasn't it a little different when one was a CHILD forced into that role ? The world certainly didn't think so.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThere were MORE IMPORTANT things to worry about other than what the world thought of them ( something they were already painfully aware of ). The child stares at the strange man; only recounting the rumors that floated about the mafia walls that spoke of BLOODTHIRSTY HORRORS. But this man hardly looked as dangerous as the tales told.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤYou don't LOOK like a villain ! So it can't be EVERY story !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤㅤ—ㅤYou do look kind of OLD and CREEPY though.ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @lunargifted asked: ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ ‍‍ .˚ ⋆ ┊ ☽︎ - ˏˋ ❝ Kyu- ❞ the coughing that left his throat feeling as if it were burning and on fire filled his lungs as he climbed his way out of the rubble. ❝ Kyusaku!! ❞ however his eyes grew the size of saucers as he saw the destruction of the city… ❨ shit, it wouldn't be the first time this towns gone into chaos. ❩ reaching into his bag, varian quickly gathered a gas mask to place over his mouth. it had only covered half of his face but it was enough as he placed on his goggles.

in search of the puppeteer. when mori told him he wasn't at the underground port hide out, he knew he had to find him quickly before this whole oder bullshit Atsushi told him about went to hell. he was most likely looking for him or Atsushi. he didn't realize just how late he was… the city was already in chaos. ❝ Yumeno!! where are you!! ❞

to Yumeno || from Varian

(based after the oder attack)

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊�� 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 had this funny way of just isolating a person; of keeping a prisoner locked away from the rest of the world, never to be seen again. That was the POINT of those dungeons; to keep them away from society as a punishment or for the ' greater good '. In such a place, one was hardly able to attain a single connection to the world BEYOND those walls; save for the idle chatter of prison guards.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤYet, even those whispers had become silent as in recent times, those halls became empty. Something must have been going on. Something must have kept the Port Mafia's men busy. Just what was happening outside, they didn't knowㅤ—ㅤand they didn't CARE either. All they knew was that those guards' absence made it all the more easy to escape yet again.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤWhen they found themselves outside though, they find something FAR DIFFERENT than the usual idyllic city streets.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe entire city was in chaos; a madness that was NOT of their doing. Languishing figures wandered about; as if affected by their own curseㅤ—ㅤand yet they knew that THEY were not the culprit of their afflictions. Their curse didn't involve BITING into human flesh after all.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThe only quick idea that had come to them in that moment was to RUN; to find a place where those people could NOT find themㅤ—ㅤat least, until they figured something out. They had no idea what they were dealing with after all or what sort of malady was affecting the citizens of Yokohama.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤBut of course as luck would have it, the abandoned building they chose would go DOWN as well.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤLuckily for them, the debris fell perfectly in place so that they were merely trapped and not HURT. How were they supposed to get out of this dark alcove of cement and stone though ? There was no way a child like them could lift something so HEAVY up. Their only hope was the voice calling out to them.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤI'm over HERE ! I'm stuck !ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

⊹ ✦ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ✴ * : ★ 【 @lovelyxhorrors ( Pete ) 】 ★ : * ✴ ‧ ⁺ ꙳✦ ⊹

╰ ★ cont. from 「 X 」

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 ... but the words the other spoke made them wonder just what his impression of them was. Did the other still think they were just some ORDINARY CHILD that really liked hanging around storybook monsters ? Had the other not realized that they weren't exactly normal either ?

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤMan ... perhaps their acting was BETTER than they thought.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤStill, the child had already seen MUCH MORE than a normal child should have. Whatever Pete - san had to say couldn't have been THAT shocking.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ Whatever you tell me WOULDN'T be scary ! I'm a BIG KID ! ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 such a stuffy and boring answer. Hard work was the kind of things only adults liked. They didn't tend to believe in such things like MAGIC or stars granting wishes; even when its existence was OBVIOUS. At least, the child thought so.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHmmㅤ—ㅤwell, I don't think hard work can REALLY keep people alive ! I think wishing on the star did that !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤSurely, the stars were responsible for the woman's longevity. Only something as MAGICAL as the stars could do such a wonderful thing !

"It was quite nice. We only watched one together. But I can still recall the memory like it was yesterday.." Any memory they can recall. They never forgot a single memory. Their mind was a library, any time in their past they could recall and picture it in their head...

Fyodor was unaware the other didn't have any parents, or anyone to share such moments with. Though they can't relate to not having a mother, they CAN relate on missing a father. They never knew their father, since he died near the time Fyodor was born. But that made the God a big mama's boy. They loved their mom.

The rat blinked at the question, mulling it over in their mind for a moment before answering, "I don't really believe in such things I suppose... Because I would prefer my hard work being the reason I achieve a goal, rather than simply wishing upon a star. As for my wish I made when I was a child, it seems to have been granted~. But I think it's merely coincidence my mum is still alive."

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @dreadmorgue asked: ❝are you really how you're perceived to be?❞

↳ -: ☆ ( RANDOM QUOTES FROM TUMBLR PROMPTS ) ☆ :-

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 before the man found out the truth of everything. How could he have not ? The SECRET WEAPON of the mafia wasn't exactly a secret anymore after the Guild and the Agency caught wind of their crimes. Not to mention, the disaster that had struck the entire city because of their own TERRIBLE curse.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ Depends on WHO you ask and WHAT you do to me. ❜

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤThe child speaks; tone and expression notably DARKER than their last few meetings. Really, they didn't intend on hurting the man at all. But if he was going to run and TELL the cops or the mafia on them ...

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ But do you think ANYONE would choose to be like that ? ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

⊹ ✦ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ✴ * : ★ 【 @moonhund ( Yuzuki ) 】 ★ : * ✴ ‧ ⁺ ꙳✦ ⊹

╰ ★ cont. from 「 X 」

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ —ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐋𝐘, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 of the supernatural and the otherworldly before. All of those instances though ... they were FAR too frightening for a child to have been able to comprehend properly. They would have rather denied such things and dismissed them as a figment of their OWN damaged mind. Things were easier that way.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤBut upon the OFFER to meet something perhaps a little more BENEVOLENT, the child perks up. Their starry eyes stare at the woman; clearly FASCINATED by the very idea.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ REALLY ? I want to see them ! ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ✴ * : ･ﾟ ★ 【 @burniingup ( Shie ) 】 ★ ･ﾟ : * ✴ ⁺ ✦ ⊹

╰ ★ ↳ cont. from 「 X 」

╰ ★ █║ ⁞ — ˗ˏˋ 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍, the child had heard what crimes the woman was muttering about to herself. But ... fortunately for the woman, the child WASN'T exactly a law - abiding citizen either. The acts the woman had done were those that the child had done many times before. The mafia HARDLY gave them any good food after all.

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ˗ˏˋ ❛ I think there's a couple of NEW stores that just opened up ! Maybe they haven't set up cameras yet ! And maybe we can just blend in with the crowd and grab some ! I'm kinda HUNGRY too ! ❜

╰ ✗ * . ⊹ ˗ˏˋ Was it a good idea to be talking about literal THEFT ? Probably not. But who cares ? THEY wanted a snack too.