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

[theircurse]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @thecursivelegends / Kaimen asked: " okay now keep your eyes closed" kaimen whispered as he guided the youngest crew with their eyes closed

↳ -: ☆ ( Yumeno's Birthday 2025 ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑮𝒆𝒆𝒛, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 ? The reality was that Captain Kaimen had only been guiding them around for a few minutesㅤ—ㅤbut it felt like FOREVER ! And a child like them was definitely bound to be impatient.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤIf I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to PUSH ME off the plank !ㅤ❜

[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]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑨 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓 ? They didn't know much about thatㅤ—ㅤbut they've seen people drive their OWN cars ! Was that what she meant by personal driver ? It must have been ! After all, the act of driving YOURSELF somewhere was very personal !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤWellㅤ—ㅤdo YOU have a car ? You can use THAT ! You have a whole bunch of MONEY so I'm sure you have a car !ㅤ❜

Huh?

"You mean a taxi? They do exist. But I do pay my drivers for driving me around. It's their job after all.", she noted, realizing that she might made it sound like she had none, when such was far from the truth. In worst case she always had her assistant who could drive her - it was him after all, who banned her from the driver's seat (which might sounded weird, after all she was his boss, but it truly was for everyone's and her own health).

"You know, I have always wondered about why people use taxis though. I mean, everyone has a personal driver for sure. They aren't that expensive. Perhaps its because else there wouldn't be enough? After all not everyone wants to do that job for sure.".

And once again it showed that she had absolutely no clue about those who were not of wealth.

[theircurse]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @diverse-hearts-ocs / Annastacia asked: come with me. i will answer whatever questions you have when we are somewhere more private. - Annastacia

↳ -: ☆ ( warrior of darkness starters. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤThis BETTER be good ! That store was perfect to steal from ! There's no one even in it !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 ! There was not a single soul in that toy store and the door was wide open ! They could have so EASILY walked in, grabbed a bunch of toys, and walked out ! Too bad this woman just HAD to stop them ! What could have been more important than toys ? !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤWhat I don't get is why you think this more important than TOYS ? !ㅤ❜

[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 ? ❜

[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]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅. Moreso, it was a fear of death and the beyond. Maybe there was a little hope in there and maybe that's why they kept trying so hard in their OWN life to escape their OWN maze. But she probably didn't know that. She probably just thought this was an overly - deep conversation that MAYBE a grown woman and a thirteen year old shouldn't be having.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤYeah ! I don't know, I just think it'd be kind of sad if you likeㅤ—ㅤdid that and suddenly there IS an exit ! I'd be pretty upset, at least !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤThis was such a weird discussion though; so weird that they had to ask ONE thing.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤDo YOU feel like you're trapped in a maze ?ㅤ❜

﹛ ♰ ﹜ —  SHARPENED by life like a blade on a whetstone , the answer was obvious to her yet reconsidered upon hearing their words filled with nothing but what could almost be described as HOPE : optimism that an outcome beyond imprisonment was possible for the metaphorically TRAPPED. Who was she to deny them that ?

❝ Though ... as you said ... never giving up is likely a better option . ❞

[theircurse]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @diverse-hearts-ocs / Garth asked: "Ahhhh! I can't take it any more...fuck it. I'm going to kill him" - Garth

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHOW MANY times have you said that in the past month alone ?ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 they may or may not have been fantasizing about their OWN murderous thoughts. Their words may not have made it obvious that they were on the same page as himㅤ—ㅤbut the drawing of a CERTAIN OLD MAN along with some of his other dumb friends lying in a pool of red certainly did ! The problem wasㅤ—ㅤno one ever really FOLLOWED THROUGH.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤIf you're going to kill him, just KILL HIM already !ㅤ❜

[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❛ㅤHmmmㅤ—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]

✦ . 　⁺ 【 @charlotte-liddel / STARTER CALL. 】 ⁺ 　 . ✦

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤI wouldn't really DO that if I were you !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 to the woman about to walk into the police station. Judging with how much of a TRAIN WRECK the city of Yokohama could be though, they were entirely right ! The lady would have only been wasting her time. And that DETECTIVE AGENCY was even worse !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤThey're not going to really DO anything ! You're probably better off taking care of whatever problem you have YOURSELF !ㅤ❜

[theircurse]

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑱𝒖𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒖𝒑; clear offense having been taken by the man's words. Maybe they were a little bit ' strange ' and ' weird 'ㅤ—ㅤbut surely, even a GROWN ADULT would have enough tact to not say it to their face ! Then again all adults were REALLY DUMB.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHEY ! If anyone is strange here, it's YOU ! Who just goes around calling kids NAMES ?ㅤ❜

Strange people, suspicious people. Dagruel had a right to investigate all the new comers that come into his country no matter what they look like. the most innocent people often become the most dangerous, appearances were something that took a back seat.

"Strange people such as yourself. of course."

purposely vauge...

[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]

╰ ☆ ✧ — @skilledsenses / Chuuya asked: "You have some very 'interesting' friends."

↳ -: ☆ ( General Sentence Starters. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤIsn't he CUTE ?ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 was talking about a cute kitty or an adorable puppy with the endearing tone they were using. But how was one to find anything like THAT in the mafia prisons ? Simply put, the chances of finding something traditionally cute in a place full of death and horrors was near IMPOSSIBLE.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤInstead, they're holding up a MOUSE in the palms of their little, scarred hands; proudly displaying it to the man. The creature at least didn't seem to be stressed or making any attempts to escape even though it easily could have. Maybe they were FRIENDS like the child claimed.

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤHe comes around EVERY DAY ! I named him Choppyㅤ—ㅤlike Pochacco's friend ! Do you like him ?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]

✦ . 　⁺ 【 @skilledsenses / Chuuya 】 ⁺ 　 . ✦

╰ ★ cont. from 「 X 」

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 ? Probablyㅤ—ㅤno, DEFINITELY. But the mafia was a weird and unconventional place with weird and unconventional people ! What mattered the most was if Chuuya - san liked it. It LOOKED like he enjoyed the horrible knife abomination at least !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤUpon the man's words; they nod EXCITEDLY at the idea of a gift. Whatever it was, it had to be a really FUN gift like theirs !

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤYeah ! I'm READY !ㅤ❜

[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❜