#HORRID !!! SAVE ME 😭

[kavehater]

just so you know I’m not beyond deleting my entire blog if the response isn’t favourable

[ratmans-notebooks]

would yall forgive me if i added welcome to my life (simple plan) to my scapegrace playlist😱

[stolasdearest]

hope I'm not a bother but i saw that you wanted someone to sent Lucifer requests so— i'm only giving ideas, don't force yourself to write this if u don't like this idea:3

angst headcanons/one shot (whatever u prefer) with lucifer x fallen angel male! reader (yes, we need more Male readers) who gets hurt by Adam at the fight in the extermination and maybe Lucifer is too late to save him?

Lucifer x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I MEANT NICE THINGS😭 but I shall oblige because I love this idea!!

Not Proofread!

Warnings: Injured reader, character death

Song listened to while writing this

↓

You always stood up for what you believed was right, that's how you ended up here; in hell

Defying the rules and boundaries set by heaven and its authority is a crime punishable by Banishment. Forcefully removed from your loved ones, the deafing fall; the change in scenery and people.

The hell that was created for people deemed not worthy for the pearly gates; the place you laid when you first fell; helped up to stand was the very king of Hell himself, Lucifer. Why was he there, why'd he come to help you? You never questioned him about it, maybe because you, too were once an angel; thrown to the wolves by the people who were meant to protect you, perhaps Lucifer related to you or pitied you.

You didn't complain when he took you to his palace; safe from the horrids of "Hell", over the years you grew together and fell into something different, a love story. From that day you swore you'd do anything to protect him and his dreams just as he had protected you.

That's how you got here. Defending your husbands daughters hotel with everything in your might. You grew close with Charlie and decided to assist her; knowing you'd be protecting Your dear husband's precious only daughter; that's why the screams of your name rang in your ears now. Something in your body hurt that's for sure but you can't quite place where, you remember seeing Adam; trying to protect Charlie from the Commander. His Axe and wrath was standing in front of you; the place you currently laid was familiar; the hotel lobby. Now wrecked and crumbled from the terror, you tried to look around. Your wings weren't functioning anymore as you tried to sit up; quickly a loud Yelp pushed past your lips as you finally felt what was hurting you

The angelic spear that had seemingly staked you on the way down. You watched as Adams gaze shifted to Charlie after taking a moment to sneer at you, your blood boiled both at the man and the fact you couldn't do anything to help. The fight between Lucifer and Adam was a blur to you, All you'd remember was that beam of light barely missing you while splitting the hotel you loved in half.

Now you were shaken awake by a face you know all too well, a smile grazed your features as you looked at the man you loved

"Dove! Sweetheart, hey— hey look at me, I'm here okay? We'll get you help"

You weakly wheezed as you heard the panic and fear in his voice that he tried to hide from you, you held onto his arm, weakly placing your hand on his forearm

"yeah Luci, I don't think I'm making this"

the sting in your heart was more painful than any weapon could do as you watched his face change into a feeling of despair. His still demonic eyes are filled with tears as he clutches onto your body; weeps heard from the man as he held you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to ease the pain you had endured. a shaking hand stroking your messy bloodied hair, the man's heart wretched as he felt you limp in his arms; body growing cold as your chest went down for the last time. He had just found you, and already lost you.

Authors note : IM LIKE.. KINDA BAD AT WRITING ANGST?? I HOPE THIS WAS OKAYY

[bitterseaproduction]

Angsty Bilbo dying Bagginshield art giving me another story idea~ 😂😭💕

But no, seriously? A play on the popular time travel fix-it, but one where Bilbo dies protecting Thorin during the Battle of Five Armies? And Thorin is inconsolable, I can’t even. And he might pull himself together long enough to stabilize Erebor, but there is No Way he can be a good ruler in his grief, so he has to pass it on. (I was going to say to Dain just to twist that knife a little harder, but actually there are reasons hinted below on why Fíli & Kíli must have lived.) And Thorin just… he wanders, probably. A shell of himself for the rest of his days.

And yet, when he inevitably passes away, he awakens on the road to the Shire. And he’s younger. And he’s so confused, quickly suspecting he must be dead and this is nothing like what he was taught to expect. But then his instant impulse to check Bag End has him walking in on that same meeting from so many years ago, his Company intact, the wizard smiling at him, introducing him to… to…

Bilbo. His Bilbo. The sight of him makes Thorin want to weep and hold him and never let go again, but he is instantly terrified to do anything, because is this a dream? Will he wake? What happens if he says something new, will ‘this’ be ruined somehow? He doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to change anything, save for the end. The very end.

But, even as he strives to mimic himself, he knows something is wrong. He’s off-script from the start purely due to his shock, but he tries to recover, get back on track, and within words, he’s managed it. The discussion is righting itself, and no one there could possibly know the difference, right?

And yet, Bilbo stares at him. From the instant Thorin walked in, Bilbo was staring, looking lost. As he had before, that first time, but it wasn’t the same. Bilbo had been confused then as well, but it had been a light, anxious uncertainty then. This time? He was frowning, his expression tense.

His eyes haunted.

Because Bilbo has also lived that night before. Just once as far as that night was concerned, but it was familiar to him. So familiar. That first night had haunted him for decades, to the very end of his long, long life, when he thought he might know rest, and perhaps — if he was truly as lucky as some once claimed — he might get to see his friends again. See Thorin again.

Instead he had slept, drifted away, and awoken to a battle about to start.

And he had questioned it, had stumbled that first time, but he adjusted. He tried to save Thorin. To save them all.

And he failed. Again.

Then, when he finally slept for the first time afterwards, he awoke to the battle starting again.

And again.

And he tried, over and over, day after the same horrid day to find a way to get through. And sometimes Thorin lived. Sometimes the princes did. Sometimes, new people died. The wrong people.

Once, in his darkest moments, he thought that perhaps someone was trying to teach him humility, teach him to accept fate as it was and not try to fight it, not change anything. And so he went through the motions as well as he could remember them after all those years, following them to the letter, save for when he sobbed all the harder when it was done.

He sobbed again, the relief bone-deep, when he awoke again the next day, the battle still awaiting him.

He lost count of his attempts, and no one could rightly vouch for his state of mind when he finally resorted to the one thing he had refused to try: Not since that fourth (or fifth?) time, when he managed to be there for the fight and threw himself in Azog’s way, but Thorin pulled him out of the way, and screamed at him with such outrage and fear and despair in the few beats he bought by pushing Azog over, that Bilbo never attempted it again.

Until that final day. And that time, Bilbo didn’t give Thorin a chance to stop him.

And it broke a heart Bilbo thought long since shattered to hear Thorin scream, to feel him pick him up and hold him close and hear his voice like that. But the words faded soon enough, and he couldn’t feel anything, nothing except for regret and acceptance, because this was different. He felt it. This time, he would not awaken again, and that was fine. He had saved his king, kept all of his dwarves safe that last time. If that was to be the last, then that was all he could ask for. It was alright. He could sleep.

Then he woke up.

Not outside Erebor, but inside a hole. His hole. Bag End.

He walked outside, stood in the sun, and watched a wizard walk up the road to his door.

He did not understand.

[skyler1290]

(Beast Ancients AU belongs to @cuppajj )

(Also, if you're reading this, I love your AU so much. You're an amazing person, and I hope you feel good today /gen! If you don't like the AU or feel uncomfortable with it, just comment it. I'll take it down immediately.)

So... a fun fact about me is that I make up way too many ideas for my own good. A bit too many. And I happened to imagine an AU of the Beast Ancients AU, which is basically fanfiction, once you think about it.

So, I remember the creator of the AU stating that there probably wouldn't be any heroes to come after the beasts, so I imagined up an AU of my own where that does happen.

And the heroes are their own children.

Boom boom bam, plot twist /j.

None of them are OCs, by the way. Instead, they're canon cookies I've chosen that would be their children in this AU, but aren't their children in the actual storyline (except Dark Choco).

Yea... I'm making it work. Basically, here's the parents and children:

Frigid Cacao = Dark Choco

Saint Vanilla = Kouign-Amann

Celestial Cheese = Stormbringer (she's a demigoddess in this AU. I'll explain it all if this AU gets @cuppajj 's approval)

Dragonberry = Raspberry

Midnight Lily = Mercurial Knight

So, basically, the witches are basically done with the cookies. They're like: "Oh my gosh. Why is this happening again? We're way too lazy to trap them into a tree like what we did with the last beasts. So instead, let's recruit their mentally ill teenage children to defeat them for us! Let's give them souljams and make them immortal. Seems like a good idea!"

Also, the children will be in their late teens in this AU (they're chronologically adults, but mentally and physically they are teens), it's a long story.

Here are the souljams (by the way, they'd all be two colors, just to press on the fact that these are new souljams and not fragments of old ones anymore. Though, they do connect to the past ones in concept):

Dark Choco = Balance (connects to Truth)

Kouign-Amann = Ambition (connects to Passion)

Stormbringer = Will (connects to Resolution)

Raspberry = Loyalty (connects to Freedom in an opposite like way)

Mercurial Knight = Detachment (connects to Abundance in an opposite like way)

Yes. My brain's a bit crazy. I don't know how I got these ideas, either. I can't tell if they're genuinely good or horrid.

If this AU gets the green light, unfortunately you aren't going to get any art or drawings. This is because I can't draw to save my life. So this AU will have to drive off of pure writing. 😭

But I'm not diving too deep into the AU for now since I want to make sure the creator is ok with this stuff.

P.S. = The old beasts are already defeated, but their powers and souljams are locked away, so the ancients beasts can't use them.

[nocturnest]

Omg I’m so glad you love Jonathan Crane too😭🙇‍♀️ I’m at home sick and I keep thinking about how if Jonathan was just minding his business, walking home when he sees this guy bothering a girl, like the guy is her ex and she’s telling him to leave her alone but he has hold of her wrist and won’t let go, and Jonathan just casually walks up, says a very Jonathan-like snarky (with a threatening undertone) and the guy is not the least bit threatened (not realizing who this man is) until Jonathan sprays his fear gas on him🫣 and Y/n just nervously squeals out, “Uh-I-uh thank you! What… What did you do to him??” And he just winks at her and starts to walk away🫣

@kpopgirlbtssvt I had a blast writing this - thank you for the wonderfully creative request! Feel free to send as many as you'd like for Jonathan - I LOVE HIM! Please enjoy!

~

Saving You

Jonathan Crane strolled through the streets of Gotham after a typical, mundane, and absolutely ordinary day of work at Arkham Asylum. His mind was on his patients, yes, but more importantly on the typical musings regarding the intricacies of fear and potential applications of his newest fear toxin. Lost in his thoughts, Jonathan nearly missed the commotion ahead.

There you were, accosted by a rugged man whose grip on you is far too tight and clearly not desired. You back into a wall in disgust, and, while you tried to maintain calm, a sense of fear trickled through your façade.

It was just your luck. Your mother had warned you about the dangers of living in a city like Gotham. Speaking of luck, how gracious it was for fate to bestow upon you the unwanted presence of your ex in the darkness of the streets on such a night.

Now, if Jonathan weren't so concerned for someone as pretty as you to be handled in such a way, he would take pleasure, and pride even, in being able to make you feel so afraid. But not like this. No, this wouldn't do one bit.

Jonathan was many things - some may even call him an evil man, but he was raised knowing how to properly treat a woman and this was not it.

The ogre of a man with his hands on you growls, "Just listen to me, you stupid bitch. I just want to talk."

"It seems like you want to do much more than talk," you retort, grimacing as you feel his breath on your face.

Jonathan couldn't stand idly by, not when a scene like this unfolded before him. The primal instinct to protect you stirred within him, mingling with the ever-present curiosity about human reactions to fear. He approached with measured steps, his presence unnoticed until he stood between you and your aggressor.

Your ex's attention shifted to Jonathan, his demeanor morphing from aggression to mockery.

"Back off, buddy," he sneered, tightening his grip on your wrist. "This ain't none of your business."

Jonathan offered a thin-lipped smile, his voice smooth but with an underlying edge. "On the contrary, buddy," he replied, his gaze cold as he assessed the situation. "It seems I've stumbled upon quite the predicament."

Jonathan's eyes met yours inquisitively. You mouth a please back at him. Your ex is too riled up to notice the exchange.

The man scoffed, dismissing Jonathan's words with a wave of his hand, "What's a measly twig like you going to do, huh? Get lost!"

What your ex failed to notice was the canister Jonathan held in his hand at the ready, its contents unknown to you.

And so, before you knew it, this stranger of a man sprayed your horrid ex with some kind of chemical. Recognition dawned in your ex's eyes, too late to escape the impending terror.

You reeled back against the wall and crumbled to the ground as your ex's screams made their way into your ears. A small part of you thought he probably deserved it.

Your ex made his departure, seemingly off his fucking rocker, his screams echoing in the distance far off down the street. You closed your eyes with anticipation, breathing deep breaths and doing what you could to calm yourself.

Jonathan knelt down in front of you, pale yet beautiful eyes glittering under the streetlights, "Are you alright, my dear?"

Your eyes fluttered open and you gazed back at him thankfully in response, "Um - yeah. Thank you, I suppose. W-What exactly did you do to him?"

Jonathan's expression softened, a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he met your gaze.

"Merely a temporary remedy to his insolence," he responded cryptically, his tone laced with a subtle edge. "Consider it a gift from a concerned observer."

You nodded, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. This beautiful stranger had saved you, and you hardly knew him.

"Well, I appreciate your... concern," you managed to say, offering him a weak smile.

Jonathan rose to his feet gracefully, his demeanor once again composed and enigmatic. "Think nothing of it," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. "But do be cautious in the future. Gotham can be a treacherous place, especially for those as... captivating as yourself."

With that, Jonathan nodded curtly and began to walk away, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the night. You watched him go, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity swirling within you.

As you picked yourself up from the ground, you couldn't help but wonder about the stranger who came to your rescue. Who was he, really? And what secrets lay hidden behind those piercing eyes? Part of you was ready to ask him for his name or for his comforting presence as you walked home.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, grateful for the unexpected intervention that spared you from further harm. And as you continued on your way home, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, Gotham's shadows held more than just darkness—they held the promise of enigmatic saviors with entrancing blue eyes.

~

@kiss-me-cill-me Thought you might enjoy reading this!

[itstheghostofmypast]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!? 

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission,  "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 7: Father and Daughter (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 7: Father and Daughter

A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Nothing of note, save for parental trauma and a notable lack of Daemon shenanigans.

Word Count: 5.8k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: OH MY GOD IM ALIVE???? Yeah, it appears I am 😭 I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, the past two weeks have been wild for me ever since I came back from my vacation. 1. My dad crashed his car? 2. I had like five projects due during the past two weeks and I had to write in a report and evaluation about my project groupmate who essentially did nothing 😐 if I could beat someone's ass without getting suspended, istg... 3. I've been suffering from a lot of chest pains recently, which kinda stopped me from doing my thing for a while 4. I had insane writers block for like a week and it was horrid 😖 but luckily, I'm back now, and hopefully updating more often! And also I've learnt that my classmate is following me on tumblr, I am a little mortified, but hello regardless. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 💕 no Daemon cameo unfortunately, but he'll be back next chapter, and messier than ever.

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

109 years after Aegon's Conquest

The doors to the room burst open, and you stepped in, a little out of breath. Lord Hobert Hightower and the Hand, who were standing closest to the doorway, were engrossed deep in conversation when you walked in, and you heard something along the lines of “It’s only a matter of time before Viserys names him heir.” You try not to frown at that, nodding politely to them before heading over to the crowd gathered over at the other side of the room, cooing at the heir in question: little Aegon, who was celebrating his second nameday. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Viserys exclaimed happily, gesturing for you to come and stand between him and Alicent, whose face was radiant with happiness. Viserys signalled for the wet nurse to step forward, and before you knew it, little Aegon was in your arms, babbling in that toddler frenzy of his. The assemblage of lords and ladies stepped closer to you, much to your discomfort, as you forced a cheerful smile and bounced Aegon up and down in your arms, which made him squeal with delight. “I fear that Aegon might come to see you as his mother sooner or late, Y/N, given how much he adores you.” Viserys claimed. You flush at his words, and Alicent soon steps in, smiling, “Tis true. Aegon always perks up when he’s in your arms.” You were sure you would melt into a puddle if you were subject to any more of their compliments. “You flatter me, Your Graces.” 

In the periphery of your vision, you saw Ser Tyland Lannister attempt to get Viserys’ attention, and you handed back a now fussing Aegon to his nursemaid. Alicent shuffled over to the feast table, and she smiled brightly as you approached. Placing a hand on her swollen belly, your heart fluttered with delight when you felt a slight kick. Though the horrors of childbirth still plagued your mind, being there for Alicent’s relatively smooth birth with Aegon had made your fears lessen a little. 

“How’s the babe?” you ask. “Only active when you’re here, it seems,” Alicent laughed. “They never seem to kick for anyone else other than you. I think they will adore you as much as Aegon does.” You chuckle, stroking Alicent’s belly gently. “What if the kicking is a sign that the babe will dislike me?” Alicent patted your hand, “Definitely not. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be dear to the babe.” she said with conviction. You blush at her words, “You flatter me, Your Grace.” 

“Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells Rhaenyra might be?” Viserys’ frustrated bellow drew you and Alicent out of your tender moment. Alicent’s face twisted with worry, and you were sure your face was a mirror image of hers. “You came in later than the rest of us. Did you see Rhaenyra anywhere?” You shake your head glumly, “She wasn’t in her chambers, or her apartments.” Alicent sighed in exasperation, “Viserys has questioned nearly every courtier in the room, and not a single one of them has a clue. Where might she be?” You chewed your lip, thinking back to the snippet of conversation you had overheard between the Hand and Lord Hobert. “She’s upset right now. The two of you were…” You refrained from finishing the sentence when you saw Alicent wince. “Do you have any inkling on where she might go to cool off?” “I don’t belie-” A look of realisation dawned in Alicent’s eyes. “You know somewhere?” You ask her urgently. Alicent nodded, “I’ll go find her. You should stay and satiate yourself before the journey.” “Are you sure?” You ask her, concerned. Alicent squeezed your hand gently. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can get Rhaenyra to see reason.” 

You glance pensively at Alicent’s retreating figure. Sighing, you approached the refreshments table, smiling gratefully as a servant handed you a plate with some slices of roast pork. You heard your name being called, and turned around to find Viserys. “Your Grace-” you moved to curtsy, but Viserys stopped you, “I told you, no need for such stuffy courtesies when you are with me.” You smiled wryly, “I thought it wouldn’t apply in a room full of courtiers.” Viserys waved away your words, “You are my family, Y/N. There are no such constraints within your own kin.” You smile sadly at the word ‘family’. It was a little sad to say, but you definitely did feel more of a kinship with the current members of House Targaryen over those of your own house. 

“Speaking of kin,” Viserys’ voice turned serious. “I am in need of a favour from you, Y/N.” You snapped to attention. “Whatever you need, Viserys.” He sighed, looking mournful and irritated at the same time. “It has been nigh three years since I have wedded Alicent. Time after time, I have tried to approach Rhaenyra, but she shuns me away every single time. The rare chances she actually sits down and listens, she sulks like a child and only provides me with short responses.” Viserys sighed again, whatever sadness he had turning into disappointment and exasperation. “This is not the way the heir to the Iron Throne should behave.” He looked at you beseechingly, “I implore you, Y/N. I believe what Rhaenyra needs is for a motherly figure to talk to her, and persuade her to abandon such foolish antics. I fear Alicent would not be able to serve such a role, since Rhaenyra’s ire is directed at the both of us. But you,” You swallowed nervously. “I’ve seen how close Rhaenyra kept you after Aemma’s death. For months, apart from Alicent, you were her closest confidant. I know naught of what has transpired between the two of you, but I believe you to be the best person for this tiresome task. Will you do methis favour?” 

Your expression was resigned, but you forced out a smile nonetheless. “But of course. I will do my best, Viserys.” He closed his eyes in relief, clapping you on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Thank you.” You gave a tentative smile back, painfully aware of the numerous eyes glued to the both of you. What you failed to notice, however, were the heavy gazes of Otto and Hobert Hightower on you. 

An awkward silence weighed upon the royal wheelhouse as it made its way to the Kingswood. You glance uncomfortably between Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra, watching with some pity as Viserys attempted to make conversation with his irascible and sullen daughter. A miniature dragon thrust in your face soon drew your attention however, and you looked down to frown admonishingly at little Aegon, who blinked his wide violet eyes at you innocently. The little devil, you were sure he was trying to garner your attention on purpose. Earlier, he had been weeping inconsolably, much to the nursemaid’s and Alicent’s distress. But when you had taken him into your arms, he had ceased his tears immediately and gave you a cherubic smile, which made Alicent give you a knowing smile and Rhaenyra to look at the both of you in disdain. The expression of disdain had yet to depart from Rhaenyra, as you played patiently with Aegon, flying his dragon miniature around him and smiling as the toddler spun his head around to follow the motions of the dragon with rapt fascination. 

The tension in the wheelhouse was not lightening in the slightest bit, as Viserys began talking about Rhaenyra giving him grandchildren, of all things. You had to stop yourself from groaning in exasperation. If Viserys truly wanted to reconnect with Rhaenyra again, why was he digging himself into an even bigger hole? He should know that after Aemma, Rhaenyra would be disinclined to entertain notions of childbirth. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but Aegon poked you in the cheek. 

“No one’s here for me!” Rhaenyra’s angry outburst halted all activity in the wheelhouse, including Aegon’s. You froze, looking up at Rhaenyra, but her bitter gaze was focused solely on her father. All of you endured the rest of the ride in silence. 

The rocking of the wheelhouse soon came to an end. You remained seated as Viserys and Alicent stepped out to the raucous cheers of the crowd, allowing Aegon’s nursemaid to take him from your arms. You remembered Viserys’ plea, and took in Rhaenyra’s wistful expression. “Hail, hail! Aegon the Conqueror babe, Second of His Name!” You grimace when you hear the tasteless remark. 

Rhaenyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were shut. With frustration, or with sadness, she didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand taking her fisted hand and unclenching it. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who it was. “I don’t need your pity.” Rhaenyra tried to sound snappy, but her voice was hoarse. You didn’t answer, instead intertwining your fingers with Rhaenyra. She reluctantly opened her eyes, only to see you directing a hostile glare to the outside commotion, as more and more voices heralded Aegon as the Second of His Name. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at that, letting some of the tension seep out of her muscles. 

At least there was someone in her dark and lonely corner, even if that someone’s trustworthiness had yet to be ascertained. 

You were sitting next to Alicent, as she held court with the various noble ladies who had attended the hunt. You listened, silently sipping from your goblet as they conversed about the ongoing war in the Stepstones. You watched as Larys Strong and Rhaenyra soon joined in the conversation, though a slight frown of distaste was soon visible on your face, when Lady Lannister and Lady Redwyne in particular, began picking on Rhaenyra. You had to hide a smirk when Rhaenyra made a well-directed jab at Lady Redwyne, and the smirk only widened when you saw her pig-faced dog gobble greedily at the cake on her plate. How fitting. 

“You know, Lady Y/N.” Your head snapped up as Lady Redwyne addressed you. She had a displeased look on her face: clearly she hadn’t missed your smirk at her expense. “I was…pleasantly surprised to hear Her Grace appointed you as her chief lady-in-waiting.” Your eyes narrowed, your dormant prickly nature coming to life once more. “It was a great honour, Lady Joselyn. One that I am greatly grateful to Her Grace for.” 

Lady Redwyne gave you a smile, that you knew from all your years of court politics, was filled with ill intent. “I must say, if you were out in the battlefield fighting on the Stepstones, the war would be won by now.” You felt Alicent stiffen next to you, and you instinctively reached out to put your hand on hers. “What are you insinuating, Lady Redwyne?” Alicent’s tone was sharper than usual. Lady Redwyne attempted to school her features back to deference, but her lips were curved upwards. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not attempting to insinuate anything. It was a compliment to Lady Y/N.” You levelled a fierce glare at her, but she seemed unaffected, looking at you straight in the eye. “It is a well known fact that she and Prince Daemon had tempers that rivalled each other. With such willfulness, she would make a formidable opponent on the battlefield, would she not?” 

You were about to deliver an equally cutting and backhanded response, but you were surprised when you heard Rhaenyra speak up once more, “Yes, Lady Redwyne. But as luck would have it, she is the Queen’s lady-in-waiting now.” Rhaenyra’s tone was acidic. “And I am certain that she will carry out her duties with skill and grace. The Queen will not be able to find someone as capable as her.” 

The ladies were stunned that Rhaenyra had spoken up for you, none more so than you and Alicent. “The princess is right. Lady Y/N has been a dutiful lady-in-waiting and companion. The Seven have truly blessed me with her.” Your eyes water with gratitude, as Lady Redwyne and the other ladies fall silent after both the princess and the queen’s swift defence of you.

So this was what kinship felt like. 

Night had fallen, and the air was ablaze with the smell of smoke. You had sat faithfully by Alicent all day, as she entertained lords and ladies alike. You had not seen Rhaenyra in quite some time though, and you worry about where she could have wandered off to. Your anxiety only increased tenfold when you saw Viserys’ goblet never straying from his hand, and he had been lifting it to his lips moreso after his conversations with the Hand, Jason Lannister, and Lyonel Strong, in particular. Alicent was clearly on edge as well, her brown eyes watchful as she witnessed her husband lose himself in his cups. When Viserys abruptly left the tent after a brief, yet intense conversation with Lyonel Strong, Alicent got up to go after him, but you gently pushed her back down to her seat, giving her a reassuring look. She should not need to see her husband in such a misbegotten state, while in her pregnancy, you thought to yourself, as you wrapped your shawl around you, shivering in the cold night air. 

You eventually found Viserys by the huge bonfire, downing yet another goblet of wine, while being guarded by two Kingsguard. They nodded at you as you passed. You went straight to Viserys, taking the cup whilst he was distracted. “I think that’s enough for you tonight, Viserys.” Your voice was soft, yet firm. He gave you an enervated smile. “The night is cold, you shouldn’t be out here.” You hand the goblet over to a Kingsguard. “Who will look after you, then? And make sure you do not drink yourself into a stupor?” Viserys laughed heartily, before he coughed. You reach for him, concerned. He stared into the flames, looking like he wanted to step into them himself. “Y/N.” “Hmm?” Viserys took a deep breath, trying to control the slurring in his voice. “What do you think is the foundation of House Targaryen’s strength?” 

You tilt your head to the side questioningly, “That is a trick question, right? Of course, the answer is House Targaryen’s dragons.” Viserys smiled ruefully, turning over to face you. You were taken aback by the blazing intensity, perhaps even madness in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Y/N. It began with a dream.” He turned back to face the fire. “When Daenys the Dreamer had the dream that prophesied the end of the Valyrian Freehold, that dream saved House Targaryen. While all the other dragonlords were destroyed, it was only us who survived.” “I know of that tale. Your grandsire told us that tale when we were younger.” 

Viserys didn’t seem to hear you, however, his bleak gaze still on the fire. “In my line, many had been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of dragons, next to the power of prophecy?” You shivered, and not because of the cold. Yet you continue listening. “When Rhaenyra was a child, I saw it in a dream. As vivid as these flames, I saw it. A male babe, born to me, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. And I so wanted it to be true, to be a dreamer myself. I sought that vision again, night after night…but it never came again. I poured all my thought and will into it. And my obsession killed Aemma.” You looked away at that, your heart wrenched with grief.  “I thought Rhaenyra was the way out of my abyss of grief and regret. That naming her heir would set things right.” 

“Are you saying you regret naming Rhaenyra heir then?” Viserys looked grieved. “Oftentimes, yes…I have. I worried that I had named Rhaenyra out of anger towards Daemon, not out of love, or for the good of the realm.” He moved to grip your shoulders, tears in his eyes. “Y/N, I never imagined that I would remarry. That I would have a son. What if…what if I was wrong all along?” 

You stared into his despair-filled eyes. “I cannot tell you if you’re wrong, Viserys. There are only two paths ahead of you now, and as King, you must be prepared to take one, and soon.” Viserys chuckles, drooping his head. “What if I’m not sure what path I should take?” Your voice was quiet. “Then the realm will descend into chaos.” 

The both of you were silent, staring at each other in the firelight. While you couldn’t say that you approved of Viserys’ decisions in the past three years, after all this, he was your friend, and he was just a mere mortal, plagued by regrets, grief, and hesitation. Just like you, and everyone else. Even kings were not infallible to weakness, you surmised. And in that moment, there was a mutual understanding and grievance shared between the both of you: the burden of choice. 

The morrow brought about clear skies and sun, much to the delight of the lords partaking in the hunt. It did not alleviate your worries however, as Rhaenyra still had not returned to the encampment. You found yourself milling about today, much too tired to suffer the thinly veiled jabs the fellow noblewomen were directing at you about your infamous temper. 

You were dressed in a simpler riding outfit today, to mingle around with the various smallfolk and merchants that had set up stalls in the encampment, hoping eagerly to attract some lord’s attention and earn a few gold dragons. You beamed as you sampled a rather delicious roast pork skewer, giving the stall owner - a rather plump woman - two golden dragons, much to her glee. You strode back to the main tent, feeling satisfied, when you suddenly heard the sound of hooves. You turned your head as a palomino horse skidded to a halt, and a familiar man, with more grey hairs than he had the last time you saw him, dismount from the horse and take off his riding gloves. His eyes light up as soon as he catches sight of you, and without giving you a window to escape, he strode towards you. You chew your lip in dread as he approached. 

“Father.” 

“Y/N.” He beams at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. You smile awkwardly at him, fidgeting with your fingers. His smile falters a little when he notices your hesitation. “I haven’t seen you in years, daughter. Does this momentous occasion not warrant a hug?” You inwardly sigh, and reach out to embrace your father. Your father grins at you as you pull away after an awkward pause. “You have grown, daughter. You look beautiful.” “You flatter me, Father.” “Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about.” You swallowed, but followed as he set out for the forested edge of the campground. 

The both of you strode in silence for a while, before you ventured to break the silence. “The King didn’t mention you would be joining us for the hunt, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sighed. “Can an old man not choose to be in nature once in a while?” “Of course you can, father. I was just concerned: you are no longer in the pink of health, and riding all the way from Highgarden to the Kingswood is a gruelling journey.” Your father waved his hand dismissively. “Twas nothing. I might be getting on in my years, but I recently found a new source of reinvigoration.” 

“Oh?” you cocked your head curiously. You sincerely hoped the new source of reinvigoration was not a new bid for your hand. Your father smiled, “I recently remarried to Lady Clarice of House Fossoway.” Seeing your confused look, he hurried to clarify. “Of Cider Hall.” Surprise creased your features. “But…wasn’t that Mother’s maiden house? Lady Clarice was her cousin, was she not?” Your father’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Does it matter, daughter? What matters is that I am happy with her, is it not? And I am certain she will give me strong sons soon.” You regard him with a degree of caution, noting the shift in his voice. In your years of dealing with court politics, you could instinctively tell when a situation was about to go from bad to worse. “I did not know you had any plans on remarrying after Mother’s death.” 

“And whose fault is that, daughter?” Your father’s tone turned chiding. “I know you’ve been ignoring all the ravens I’ve sent to you over the past few years. Specifically, those with letters attached from me pleading for you to just find yourself a match at court or select one of the eligible lords in the lists I sent you.” You blushed, looking sheepish. Matthos sighed. “Daughter, you are no longer young. It is past time you are wed. I only want what’s best for you.” 

“But-” you blurted out, “What if I don’t think getting married is what’s best for me, Father?” Your father looked askance at that. “What else could a young lady such as yourself desire other than marriage?” You bit your lip, “Father, the truth is…I do not think I have a desire to wed now…or ever.” You were beginning to get anxious as your father’s face lost some of his paternal tenderness. “Five years. I had hoped that our time apart had given you some time to reflect on your…misconceptions.” He gripped your shoulders, an intense blaze in his eyes as your heart began to thud with dread. “The matter of marriage is not one that you can dismiss so easily anymore, Y/N. It entails the survival and future of House Tyrell. You must do your duty and wed a respectable lord, for the sake of our house.” Though you had heard those words aplenty, today, it was like something uninhibited had seized control of you, as you burst out. “Why should I care about doing my duty to House Tyrell?” you snapped. “I have made it clear that it is not my intention to ever take a husband, now and in the foreseeable future. You claim this is all done for my own happiness. So why can’t you just respect my wishes?” 

“Because you are not just some poxy peasant who can gallivant about as you please. You are my daughter!” You were shocked when your father suddenly raised his voice. Trepidation had dimmed your previous righteousness. He tightens his grip on your shoulders, his expression filled with an anger you had never glimpsed before. This…this was not the father you remember. The father you knew had never once raised his voice at you, always treating you with patience as his only child. Though he was prone to bouts of frustrated pleading when you did not acquiesce to his wishes to get married, he had never once shouted at you like that. Or even gripped your shoulders with such forcefulness you feared he might strike you. “You are just as useless as your late mother.” You were stunned, your eyes searing with hot tears. “Do not insult Mother like that. She was the most wonderful woman-” “Wonderful, you say?” your father snorted. “If she were so wonderful, then she would have provided me with a strong and healthy son to succeed me! Instead, she left me with a daughter who is ungrateful and strangely determined to remain a spinster all her life.” he spat out the words with such vitriol that you were taken aback. “If she were so wonderful,” your father continued with his rant. “Then would House Tyrell be in imminent danger of collapsing, all because the only heirs I have are your incompetent, doltish cousins who will run the legacy our ancestors and I have built to the ground?” He moved to clasp your hand tightly in his, looking desperate and angry all at once. “Daughter, your father is imploring you. You must get wed, and provide me with a grandson. You cannot let House Tyrell go to ruin.” You stare at him, feeling beleaguered. “Do my wishes mean nothing to you?” “This is because your wishes are obscenely unreasonable, Y/N.” your father snaps. “It is practically unheard of for a woman of your status to not wed.” “It is not!” you insisted, “I am the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen now, I have duties I must perform. And there have been histories of lords whose daughters were largely spinsters. Moreover, you have remarried.” Your voice became desperate as you tried to make your father see reason. “Lady Clarice is young, she will give you many sons in due time. Suitable heirs to Highgarden. I do not understand why you are putting all this pressure on me.” You took a deep breath, preparing to make your final stand. “I want to enjoy the rest of my youth, Father. Not to sit in a castle, entrapped in a loveless marriage and pumping out potential heirs for my husband and for you. I want to live my life, free of constraints.” You looked at him, unshed tears in your eyes. “Please, father. This is the one thing I have ever asked of you, and that is to respect my wishes.” 

Matthos was silent for a long while, and you held hope, briefly, that you might have gotten through to him with your pleading. “Foolish, insolent girl!” Your hopes were dashed as your father flung off your hand, shouting at you. “How can you be so selfish? To not take responsibility in ensuring the continuation of our house’s line?” “That is your responsibility, not mine!” you shouted back. Seeing that pleas would not get to your father now, you resorted to fighting fire with fire instead. “Had you really cared about continuing our house’s bloodline, you would’ve remarried years ago!” You could see how your shouts were drawing the attention of some courtiers, given how close the both of you were to the camp for royals. You heard the faint sound of hooves behind you, but you ignored them, too engrossed in your argument with your father. “Producing heirs is a lord’s responsibility. So if you are accusing me of not doing my duty, you should first be reprimanding yourself.” 

Your father’s face grew red. “You little brat! How dare you say these things about your father!” “I spoke only the truth,” you shot back. He raised his hand, and for a moment you were afraid he was going to slap you for your outburst. Instead, he went to grip your shoulders again, “For years, I have raised you, clothed you in the finest silks, fed you, and put up with your ridiculous whims and wants! I’ve been patient, I’ve been loving and understanding when you rejected all the marriage offers you received. I’ve pleaded, and even given you the time and freedom to find a more suitable match at court. Yet you cannot even perform your duty as my daughter. No longer.” Your heart stuttered a little. “What do you mean?” Your father gave you a cold look. “I’m saying, if you do not get married by the end of the year, you are no longer my daughter.” Your eyes widen with horror. “I will effectively disown and disinherit you from House Tyrell, and if I sire any children by Lady Clarice, they shall not support you either.” 

Your voice was tremulous, “Father, you…you cannot be serious. Do not let your anger cloud your judgement.” Matthos Tyrell looked at his daughter, his face one of disgust. “You wanted to enjoy your youth without constraints. And since you seem to enjoy being lady-in-waiting to the Queen so much, I’m only granting you what you wished for, am I not?” 

You stepped back, feeling winded by your father’s words. However, you nearly jumped when you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Ah, Y/N!” You were not sure whether you felt more mortified or relieved for Viserys’ timely presence. “Your Grace!” Immediately, your father’s distaste gave way to deference, as he straightened his posture and bowed before the King. You inclined your head respectfully, wondering if Viserys had overheard your conversation. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation.” Oh, he definitely overheard. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I am delighted to be in your presence.” Your father gushed on profusely, as Viserys stepped toward him. You hung your head, still abashed by your father’s threats, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder once more. Alicent smiled at you understandingly, and you grimaced when you realised she had also overheard the unpleasant exchange. Still, you shot her a grateful look for her show of support. 

“I must offer you my sincerest felicitations for Prince Aegon’s second nameday, Your Grace.” Viserys laughed, “Your felicitations are greatly appreciated, Lord Matthos. I must extend you mine as well, for your recent remarriage. I see it is treating you well.” Your father beamed, “You are too kind, Your Grace. And indeed, my lady wife pleases me so. Now, the only thing that would make me the happiest man in the realm would be my daughter finally settling down with a respectable match.” You stiffened at that, something Alicent took notice of, and she offered you a sympathetic look. Viserys chuckled, “That you and I can both agree on, Lord Matthos. There is nothing more I desire right now than seeing Rhaenyra being wed to a deserving man who will treat her right.” 

“Oh, I am sure Her Grace will have her pick of men. She is ‘The Realm’s Delight’, after all. Any man who weds her will be a lucky one.” Your father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as he glanced at you. “Moreover, Her Grace is young, comely, and lovely to behold.” Matthos sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “Mine own daughter is not in possess of such qualities, I’m afraid. She is getting on with her years, and though I love her deeply, as her father, I must admit she has quite a temper on her. She's not quite the attractice match, which gives me a headache,” Matthos jested with the King, causing you to wince and look away. Alicent looked disconcerted at your father’s tasteless jesting, tightening her hold on your shoulder. However, the both of you did not notice the flare of annoyance behind Viserys’ eyes, so his next words surprised the both of you. 

“Lady Y/N has been nothing but a delight to have at court, Lord Matthos. In spite of her age, I’m sure she has no shortage of suitors.” Viserys’ voice was amiable, polite, yet it carried an undertone of firmness and reprimand such that Matthos looked a little stunned, worried that he had overstepped. You looked back to the pair, your eyes wide with disbelief. “And should Y/N ever find herself unwilling to marry, the Red Keep will always welcome her. She is like family to me, after all.” Your father fell silent, and you locked eyes with Viserys, looking lost, yet appreciative all the same. Viserys gave you a reassuring smile, and you could see the sincerity behind his intent. Your eyes prickled with touched tears, but the moment was interrupted when you heard shouts across the campground, startling your party. You turned around, only to behold the sight of Rhaenyra, stained head to toe with dried blood, a commanding aura in her swagger as her sworn shield, Ser Criston, trailed behind her, along with two servants carrying a dead boar. You lock eyes with her momentarily, and she gives a small nod of acknowledgement to you, although her eyes turned cold when they looked upon her father. You heard Viserys sigh, and you saw how Viserys looked both annoyed and relieved for Rhaenyra’s safety, while your father just looked bewildered, perhaps even a little scared. Despite yourself, you smiled a little at the scene. 

Alicent and you were chatting in her chambers, laughing in hushed tones as you rocked Aegon to sleep in your arms, when the Hand entered the room, requesting to speak with Alicent. You handed a sleepy Aegon to his nursemaid, before curtsying and exiting the room, painfully aware of the Hand’s weighty gaze upon you as you did. 

Alicent knew that her father had not visited her out of a gesture of goodwill, and as she listened to his rather maddening reasoning that Alicent should attempt to make her husband see reason and name Aegon heir, she only stayed silent. There was no point in countering back anyway - the Hand always seemed to have a dozen other reasons to quell her opposition. She felt uncomfortable, for speaking of this was treason, and the babe shifted in her belly, causing her to sigh. 

Otto observed his daughter, noting with mild exasperation that she wasn’t paying heed to anything he was saying. So, he decided to change the subject. “About your lady-in-waiting…” he began. Alicent’s head snapped up, “What do you wish to discuss of Y/N?” Otto let a smile play over his lips: it was quite evident his daughter cared for the Tyrell lady, and from his further observations over the past three years, treated her akin to a maternal figure. Which might make it easier for her to accept what he proposed next. “I overheard a rather…interesting conversation she had, with Lord Matthos today.” Alicent showed no visible reaction, but she stared at her father, feeling an all-too-familiar feeling of dread settle in her gut. “I think half the campground overheard their argument. What of it?” 

Otto hummed softly, “It seems her father is worrying about her marriage. Which is a reasonable worry - she is on the cusp of her twenty fifth nameday, is she not?” Alicent nodded slowly, eyeing her father with caution. She knew him all too well, how he was tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair - he was scheming. She recalled how upset you were when you spoke with your father, citing your dreams to enjoy your youth and be freed of the constraints of marriage. In later years, she had come to both see you as a cherished companion and a parental figure of sorts, and she cared for you, deeply so. You were her only source of comfort in the Red Keep, one who did not expect or demand anything of her, someone she felt she could truly be open with. She glanced fearfully at her father. 

She had to put an end to this. She must save you from suffering the same fate she did. 

“Father…you are not planning on taking a new wife, are you?” Alicent fidgeted with her fingers nervously, her eyes fixed on Otto. He was quiet for a long while, and in response to her question, he only stood up and went over to his daughter, placing a hand on her swollen belly. His cryptic answer disturbed Alicent. “You worry too much over matters that do not need worrying about, daughter. Your concern now, should be Aegon. Raise him well, and raise him strong. He shall be an important man one day.”

Come the morrow, the Godswood was completely devoid of any life. Which proved to be a boon to you, who was seeking some reprieve from the busy atmosphere of the Red Keep and the somewhat maddening task of having to feed Aegon -  due to his tendency of smooshing the food in the face of whomever had the misfortune of feeding him, most commonly you. 

You sat on the stone bench, staring despondently at the Godswood tree. While you were never particularly religious, either to the Seven or to the Old Gods, the happenings of the hunt have driven you to pray with increasing fervency these days. What you prayed for, you did not know. Was it for the hope that your father’s heart might soften and he might be persuaded to leave you be for the rest of your life? You scoffed to yourself, knowing how improbable it was. Fiddling with the pendant - Aemma’s pendant, you sighed, tilting your head downwards to the ground. 

You were startled when you heard movement next to you, of another soul taking a seat next to you on the bench, her posture ramrod straight, and her expression blank. Rhaenyra’s linen sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze. 

“I suppose neither of us are in the best of spirits,” Rhaenyra’s voice was stilted, like she was reluctant to break the silence first. You lifted your head upright, looking at her with a tentative smile, “No, I suppose we aren’t.” An awkward silence highlighted the chasm between the two of you. You wondered, had this truly been the girl of fourteen who confided in you about everything? Now, it seems there is a stark contrast to the Rhaenyra you once knew to the Rhaenyra before you. Though of course, you were to be blamed for that. 

“My father has just ordered me to embark on a tour of the realm. A marriage tour.” Rhaenyra’s bitter tone roused you from your thoughts. “I do not know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s because you are the only person in the Keep who might have the slightest sympathy for what I’m going through.” Rhaenyra’s voice lowered to a slightly malicious pitch, but there was no disguising the hurt behind her voice. “Or maybe it would be false sympathy. But it is better than none.” 

You winced, wanting to reach out and take Rhaenyra’s hand, the way you knew she loved. Physical touch was Rhaenyra’s favourite way of receiving and expressing affection. A wane smile pulled at your lips as you heard her words, “You might be cynical, but I have more sympathies to your plight than you might think, Princess.” Rhaenyra was surprised by the resignation in your tone. She recalled the scene she had seen when she returned to the royal encampment at the hunt that day. “...does it have something to do with your father?” 

You let out a sad laugh, “Indeed. I have been forced into a situation much more precarious than yours, I would say. My father has given me an ultimatum: I must wed by the end of this year, or I shall be effectively disinherited and disowned as a member of House Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her stance immediately shifting to one of sympathy and guilt. “Does your father jest?” “I’m afraid not,” you remark with a despaired, cynical laugh, “Father’s patience has worn thin when it comes to me, I’m afraid. I should’ve known it foolish to think that I could escape from the ramifications of duty to my House.” 

You were a little mortified to find your eyes prickling with tears. In truth, you were frightened to the bone. Two paths were set in stone before you now, and neither were pleasant. Rhaenyra hesitated for a while, before reaching out to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were startled by her sudden gesture, as the flood of familiarity rushed through your veins. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “This is a horrible situation to find yourself in.” She looked hesitant, “I know you’ve always been of your own mind, Y/N. I just want you to know…that you are not alone. Should the worst come…I’m sure that my father will not turn you away in your hour of need.” Her lips turned upwards wistfully, “I will not too. The both of us are stuck in similar predicaments, are we not? Daughters forced to marry off at our father’s behest. We must stick together.” 

“...thank you,” you said quietly, touched, “I do not deserve your kindness, after all I have hidden from you.” Rhaenyra’s smile turns somewhat bitter, “What is done cannot be undone. What matters now is the future.” 

The cool metal of Aemma’s pendant dug into the flesh of your palm, as an idea came to you. “I have something for you,” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew misty as you presented the ruby falcon pendant to her. “I think this belongs to you. I’ve been holding onto it for the past few years, but I think it’s time you have it back.” Rhaenyra takes the pendant, clasping it to her chest as she looked mournfully down at it. “I thought it was naught but ashes now.” You bit your lip, seeing how relieved yet pained Rhaenyra looked made you regret not giving it to her sooner. You had clung onto it for selfish reasons over the past few years, unwilling to let go of Aemma. But now, you felt it was time to let go of the past, and brave on into the future. “I hope that having this piece of Aemma would make you feel more comforted on your marriage tour.” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes were misty, as she clasped the pendant like it was worth all the spice and gold from the shores of Essos. “Y/N.” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Hmm?” “Do you think…that Mother would’ve been proud of the person I am today?” Rhaenyra swallowed, looking downcast. “...I fear that, ever since I was named heir, since…Aegon was born, Father’s disappointment in me has been growing by the day.” “And why would you think that?” you asked, concerned. Rhaenyra took a shaky inhale, “I know that Father did not name me heir out of choice. It was a critical time, after Daemon had left, and the Realm would be plunged into unease upon the disinheritance of my uncle from the line of succession.” She bit her lip. “Father even told me as much. He said he had wavered at the notion of making me heir.” Your eyes flickered with shock and a little bit of righteous anger. “He said that?” Rhaenyra nodded miserably, and you patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “He told me he would never waver again, but it is a little hard to put my faith in that, with….with Aegon’s shadow looming over me.” Rhaenyra sighed, tilting her head upwards. ”I just…I wish I could do something to be better. To prove to Father that I’m not just the right choice to the throne because he named me heir when he had no choice. I want to show him that I possess the qualities to rule the throne. The marriage tour would be a start, but I just detest the idea of having to bind myself to some lord to prove my worthiness to the throne.” 

“I understand how you feel,” you commiserated, and she rested her head on your shoulder. “The expectations of a woman’s duty often cast a shadow over our lives.” Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling at ease with you, even if it were just for a brief moment. “Mother was fond of saying that marriage is a woman’s duty, and childbed is our battlefield. Especially as royal women,” Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion. “I understand I must do this, for the good of the realm, but…why is it so terrifying? To have my worth determined on my husband and the number of children I can bear in service to him and the realm.” The setting sun glistened off a tear slowly making its way down Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Y/N, do you think my mother would be proud, watching me doubt her teachings?” 

You reached out to wipe her tear away, your other hand’s thumb gently stroking her hand that you still held. “You are her daughter, Rhaenyra. I have no doubt that you could be the most dastardly miscreant, and she would be proud of you nonetheless.” That got a bleak smile from Rhaenyra, “Truly?” You nodded your confirmation, smiling fondly down at her. “Truly. Though luckily, your moral character is rather upright.” Rhaenyra laughed, and you smiled, happy to have made her laugh. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Rhaenyra whispered to you.  

The two women stayed like this in the Godswood for a while, each swarmed by their own thoughts. So different, yet so similar in their impending doom, and duty.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666​

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy @kmmg98 @norestfortheshelbywicked @hb8301 

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 

A/N: All I gotta say is: ruh roh, trouble is brewing. If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. I aim to release chapter 8 by next Wednesday, hopefully something unprecedented doesn't happen before then though.

[actualbird]

HI!!! i wanted to ask ur opinion on how the nxx boys sneeze 😭 it was a hilarious thought because i was trying to sleep when suddenly i heard my dad make the loudest, most disruptive sneeze ever and i thought "thats so funny lol WAIT what if the tot boys sneezed".

i generally think the tot boys would be more "a-chooooo...." rather than a nuclear explosion but i need ur opinion. HOW WOULD THEY SNEEZE!!??

scream omfg i love this ask and i remember i actually talked about this with @samsspambox once forever ago so, without further ado

how the nxx boys sneeze

vyn: sneezes normal but my god he's super sensitive to allergies and, most of all, Pollen. which is hell, given that he loves to garden. but his easy workaround is just to wear a mask, and that usually saves him when hes working on his own garden. but come Pollen Season, and all the plants and trees spewing particles into the air, and hes a nose-clogged sneezy mess. his students know that when it's pollen season to not piss him off because he will be so cranky from all the sneezing and also the horrid feeling of only having one nostril unobstructed

artem: sneezes the Loud Dad Sneeze. he is the disruptive sneezer, the nuclear explosion. he is sneezing like how a lion roars deeply to establish its territory lines, except artem isnt a literal lion and does not do this on purpose. his sneezes are LOUD. the type of loud that makes people want to ask artem if hes okay afterwards cuz it's so loud it seemed like it dislodged a rib or something. it's immensely comical, given artem's usual quiet nature, that his sneezes are a force of nature. he could sneeze in his office and people all the way over in the pantry would hear it. he is, and i cannot stress this enough, so fucking embarrassed about it.

marius: the sneeze that keeps wanting to happen but Doesnt happen. you know, the cliffhanger sneeze, the sneezes that are like "ah...aaAAAHH...AAAAAAAHH—" and then the resulting "choo" doesnt happen. and this Not Happening just Keeps Happening. it's agonizing. marius will start a sneeze at 9:55am but the Conclusion Of The Sneeze only happens by 10:03am, once hes already in a meeting with the board of directors. how unsightly, he KNOWS, but the worst part really is the sheer anticipation. what marius would GIVE to have a normal sneeze.

luke: the tiniest kitten sneeze on the planet, and always 6 times consecutively in a row MINIMUM. back during the NSB Days(TM), the fearsome Agent Raven arrived at the training class he handles with a slight cold, saying he'll just monitor and teach and give pointers while socially distanced. the trainees were so scared cuz "wow, hes still coming in even when hes sick, how TERRIFYINGLY DEDICATED, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVEN." and then luke steps back and grabs a piece of tissue, obviously rearing for a sneeze, and the trainees thought "oh i bet his sneeze is the Loud Disruptive one, just like his own scary fighting skills, to be expected from the FEARSOME AGENT RAVE—" and then

it's the smallest, cutest sneeze. one after the other. and another. and another. it was like hearing a squeaky dog toy get squeezed several times vigorously. it was like how you'd assume a pixie sneezes. it was like the sound sprinkles and pink bubbles would make if those could sneeze.

once luke is done with his consecutive sneezes (that, for the life of him, he could not stop) he promptly death-glares at the trainees and they all agree to Never Bring It Up.

but the consecutive kitten sneezes still follow luke through his life and all the way up to, yep, the nxx team being able to witness it

mc: awww, it's been so long since ive seen your cute sneeze!!

luke, nose clogged: it's [sneeze] not cute! [sneeze]

marius: it's so cute, i think my heart is melting

luke: shut [sneeze] up!

marius: AAAWWW, is the big bad agent having some twouble? >:3

luke: dont you f[sneeze]ucking patronize [sneeze] me!

mc: do you need more tissue?

luke: PLE[sneeze]ASE

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Mr. Rollo, how do I tell my crush I have a crush on him even though he doesn’t even know I exist and I’m too shy to approach him?

…also I think you need more sleep, you’re starting to look like a raccoon, and bae you’re not slaying that look at all

NO LEAVE HIM ALONE 😭 THE RACCOON EYES MAKE HIM CUTER (<- delusional) Rollo's voluntarily celibate/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

"Hmph, so that is why your eyes have been wandering as of late." Rollo crossed his arms, mouth pulled back into an open frown. "You're dazed and distracted by some boy. Worse yet, it's one of those horrid mages. I can't say I approve."

You nodded sheepishly. You were doing a poor job of fighting the heat climbing to your face.

Rollo stared at you with a mixture of pity and revulsion. “If you're seeking romantic assistance, you've come to the entirely wrong person for it—especially not if you close your request off with a comment on how I present myself. I would never endorse such an endeavor to begin with."

"B-But..."

He fixed you with a stern look. "Rather than pursue the object of your affections, I strongly encourage you to abstain. Going down the path of passion will only lead you further astray. Such ardent desires should be curbed before they spiral into something you cannot hope to control."

"Whoa, whoa, don't you think that's saying too much?" you protested. "It's not like I'm going to commit murder just because I have feelings for someone."

"You may as well. Feelings of affection may appear innocuous at first glance, even comforting. I once foolishly believed the same of magic,” he spat, his words harsh and hateful. “Look where that has gotten us.”

Love. Magic. In the end, it was all the same.

Rollo set his jaw firmly, hands balling into fists. Neatly trimmed nails bit into the flesh of his palms.

“One little thing so easily snowballs into another. Infatuation leads to absentmindedness, absentmindedness leads to emotional distress, emotional distress leads to self-destruction." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not to mention all the nonsense of—"

Rollo made a face.

"—God forbid, longing looks, which leads to finger grazing, which leads to hand holding, which leads to kissing! To entrust the most vulnerable aspects of oneself to another is…!!”

Now he looked as though he was close to dry heaving. Or exploding. Maybe both at the same time.

He caught himself, and took a deep, calming breath. “… As I was saying, it would be far better for all parties for you to stash those bothersome thoughts away. No one will be hurt if you take care to avoid initiation. Heed my words: do not be tempted to sin and vice, however drunk you are on infatuation.”

“It’s not that easy.” You clutched both hands over your trembling heart. “Every part of me aches to be with him. I can’t just bury and deny these feelings. And if he ends up with someone else because I never said anything… I think that would hurt me the most.”

“You must resist its allure,” Rollo insisted sharply. “The feeling will wear away with time, I assure you.”

Just as I turned away from magic and the misery it brings.

Your shoulders slumped, hopeful expression sagging. A firecracker, at last coming to the end of its fuse—but not yet a broken heart.

You held on, steadfast. “You weren’t helpful at all, Mr. Rollo.”

“Come now, don’t make such a long face.” He heaved a sigh. “It's plain to see that there is no saving from whatever blasted enchantment has been cast upon you. All I am able to do is impart my advice and pray that you take it into consideration."

With that, he turned away. The conversation was over.

His piece was said.

Whatever happened next was up to you.

[gadmiral-thrawn]

FINALLY DECIDED TO MAKE A PINNED POST!!!!!

FREE PALESTINE

zionists get lost

All about my least fav person - me:

Call me Rev or one of my usernames ig. My real names Zara tho so u an call that to idrc

Killjoy name ig: Atomic Revolution (cheesy ik but its the only thing i can think off)

She/her 🇮🇳

Livin a very sandy life in 🇰🇼

Im a minor so luck off creepy ppl

Idc what u say to me tho as long as its not creepy

Palestine Blogs:

This place here is for as u can guess Palestine. Here I'm gonna put the vlogs of some ppl in Gaza to maybe just spread the msg a bit more. I cant rlly donate rn so i figured its the best i could do :). If u want ur blog to be here just send me a msg or an ask.

@save-mohammad-family

@hanaayousef

@adham-89

@maxwell-o

My Current Interests:

THRAWN

THRAWN

THRAWN

Hes my fav star wars character (as u can tell) and by longest and most recurring obsession

Thennnn we have F1

Currently rooting for more McLaren podiums and hoping Lando One-win gets more then just one win

GO PAPAYAS

Some Bands Im Into:

Some stuff about me:

I have an insane amount of knowledge on the Cobain case

I recently bought a guitar and im trash at it so if u guys have my tips pls tell 😭

I REALLY love horror movies

Im a twin - trust me its not what u think it is. It is HORRID

My fav color would be black, red or blue

Fav restaurant is Dampa Feast (yay seafoooodddd)

I collect Funkos (gonna add my collection soon)

Where else can u find me?

Discord: gadmiral_thrawn_37075

Ao3: g_admiralthrawn

Thinking of writing some stuff on ao3?

Making an Instagram too (not posted anything yet still needs a shit ton of work it here it is): fvckofagvn

Chiss Discord server: https://discord.com/invite/bQn42uMb

SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT

[codenamesazanka]

I'm being so negative and I'm sooooo sorry!!! 😭 I don't want to be, but I'm arrogant and petty and I like to complain. There are indeed things I liked about Act III - the Ochako vs. Toga fight and resolution, Deku being if nothing else so stubborn about saving Shigaraki, all the worldbuilding details we got, the unintentionally dark absurdity of All Might commissioning and using a mecha suit; the concept of Deku being a greater Hero than All Might because he was weak, so he had to work hard and depend on others and never give up, which is a great answer to All Might's 'The Symbol of Peace must be a natural born Hero!' in Chapter 2 which was always concerning to me. Lots of things. And I still adore the League, I love Shigaraki and Spinner and everyone, and I still find AFO fun. I still find the world that Horikoshi built fascinating and intend to continue exploring it.

It's because I love bnha that I'm so disappointed. I had high expectations, and when they weren't met, I'm all cranky. That's partly on me! I'm not unsympathetic towards Horikoshi either - he's been destroying his body churning out a weekly manga, and its hard to write such long-running and detailed epic mostly on his own, and I just know coming up with narratively, thematically, emotionally, artistically satisfying resolutions to morally complex questions and problems that will also keep his manga in the top five Shonen Jump Rankings and avoid controversy probably gave him horrid stress nightmares.

But like I said. It's because I love the story that I complain and criticize. A lot of it is also just a way for me to develop my own understanding of various things and creative sensibilities. It's bnha's lost potential and holes that fuel my imagination and wonder. I'm grateful for it! I just also really like to complain. It is what it is.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Zagreus

Synopsis

Zagreus sits inside your head

Zagreus lives among the dead

Zagreus sees you in your bed

And eats you when you're sleeping.

Propaganda

ok so, its the 40th annivercery!! its not offical as the show was off the air at the time, but still!!!! every single companion and doctor actor Big Finish managed to get they got!! but do they play their parts? ...actually not really! here we have the end of an arc that two seasons coming, Charley and 8 has been through a lot, and at this point their story comes to a starteling and rather horrid conclusion! (OR IS IT?) Charley, who has been rescued from death by the eight doctor, rescuing her when he was not supposed to, has been through a lot, and even as that got solved last episode, by saving her from becoming a portal of death to galifray (a long and better constracted story XD), the doctor and the tardis has sufferd a huge explosen of an anti time bomb! making the doctor to become infected with an anti time infection! making him concive himself as the childhood time lord rhyme known as Zagreus! so now he must distory the entire univerce hahaha, because apperently Rassilon, ie one of the og creatorss of galifray socity wants to make the doctor into Zagrues so he can use him to distroy his emenies!! by distroying him body and soul!!! but what's this??? his former selfes as random people around the time stream coming in with the steal chair????? all led by a very rightfully annoyed Charley because the doctor refused to kill her as she asked because she loves him???? what the fuck will happen next!! all led delightfuly by Romana and Leela, and K9, and a rather jealous and EVIL tardis played by the Brigadier himself!! in between this 3 HOUR LONG epic and delightful advanture, apart from the absolote chaos of the event, you will get a suprisingly beutifull speaches filled with exploration of the meaning of love, of friendship! of a love so strong that it shall forfit between dimantions and also canon, the doctor explores what it actually means to be in love with a companion! and Charley, explores what it means to love him even more strongly back! what it means to be the doctor!! and the fact that the distruction of the tardis is actuall the thing stopping him from completely losing himself to loss and grief 😭, the absolote hammering in of the fact the coraption of time lord scoaity and Rasilon's bigotry, and finally someone understands that if you corrupt the Doctor, you have the absolotle potancial to distroy the entire univerce!! Paul Mcgann screaming for amazing hours, as he has the best time playing the baddy and people who are not the doctor!! India Fisher as Charley giving it her all and being amazing at it!! (also the fact that this delightful story is the leadthrough to one of the most terrefying stories of doccy who history, Scherzo! as it explores the themes of this story in a much more detailed way! but that's a horrefying story for another day XD) (@geronimomo-spd )

The 30th anniversary special is overly long and complicated but mostly it is INSANE ! Alice in Wonderlands, giant animatronic rabbits, Vampires and an evil doctor who hAMS it up,,,,that and 4 different doctors as well as TONS of companions plus the Briggs who is actually the TARDIS. it makes no sense! Compels me tho. Everyone says it with me : Zagreus sits inside your head Zagreus lives among the dead Zagreus Sees you in your bed And eats you when you're sleeping It's the best anniversary special day of the doctor whomst ? (@gnougnouss )

Scherzo

Synopsis

Once upon a time...

There were two friends, and together they travelled the cosmos. They thwarted tyrants and defeated monsters, they righted wrongs wherever they went. They explored the distant future and the distant past, new worlds and galaxies, places beyond imagining.

But every good story has to come to an end.

With no times or places left to explore, all the two friends have now are each other. But maybe that's one voyage too many. Maybe they'll discover things they'd rather have left undisturbed... hidden away in the suffocating, unfeeling, deafening brightness.

Once upon a time. Far, far away.

Propaganda

It’s a great and fucked up dissection of the Doctor and Charley’s relationship, with a healthy dose of body horror (anonymous)

you will never look at the handshake emoji the same way again (october)

Really creative concept. Puts 8 and Charley into a situation where they have to confront their relationship and what they mean to each other while dealing with an incredibly engaging creature. I can't name an audio that suits the medium better and Ive been consuming Big Finish at an alarming rate. Also noises™️ (anonymous)

Absolutely INSANE episode back when big finish was allowed to get WEIRD weird it has everything: heartfelt discussion about the doctor/companion relationship, love, cannibalism, body horror, the exploration of a very alien world. All of this while making full use of the audio medium in a story that could simply never have been done anywhere else. It's a must listen for everyone. (@gnougnouss )   

[btheleaf]

horrid idea okay pemlinzin get together after season one Tenzin knocks Lin up ( they assumed she was too old to get pregnant but the spirits had other ideas lmao) and thats why shes not in season two much. Too occupied with baby to save Raiko’s lame ass. haha. Lin is really private ( and it would cause a scandal/ endanger her career) so no one knows she has a daughter.

If it's pemlinzin I hope Tenzin and Pema know 😭

Pema teaching Lin how to take care of a baby though. 🥺 Pema seeing Lin do something buck wild and she's like... "What the fuck are you doing?" And Lin is just like. "This is how Toph raised me and Su." Pema just gives her a hug and takes the baby away and is like, "That actually makes a lot of things make sense. Don't ever do that again."

[thegamingcatmom]

I came across your fic, the sisters on Ao3 and the writing? Amazing! I binge read it in one go and honestly can't wait for more of the story.

Had a thought on that, like we get the vibes that kate will probably push Tanya's buttons with having MC's attention. And then the thought came of would Tanya be annoyed if Kate stole an indirect kiss 👀

Like it's not a massive thing, but could you imagine: they're feeding her, and she's got a drink with a straw or whatever, and kate gets this idea just eyeing the MC drinking who has no idea what's going on and just assumes oh Kate's just thirsty or whatever

The offer of, "You want a sip?" A cheeky grin from kate as she realizes this takes it just for the sole purpose of getting an indirect kiss, not even a kiss, but like just to have that small bit she can gloat over her sister. The confusion on Tanya as Kate takes it even if she doesn't drink it before realizing

I-

This is-

But WHERE are my manners:

Hi! 👋

And THANK YOU for your lovely words! They just put a huge smile on my face, truly. 🙈❤️

Now, to the good stuff:

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Oh, Kate will push buttons alright, and not just Tanya´s probs. Girl lives for being a nuisance, so I think MC would be well-advised to stock up on those headache pills. 💊😅

As for your idea with that indirect kiss?? I mean-

YES PLS???

I love that omg!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Like, you have NO idea-

Okay so...what I´m trying to say here is:

"...it´s not a massive thing" is RIGHT up my alley. THAT´S what I´m talking about. Like, yknow, all those subtle things, that between-the-lines stuff. Like, YKNOW?? 🫣

God, I sound so unhinged rn-

OKAY SO, in my humble opinion, less is more when it comes to building up that tension and creating an atmosphere that manages to keep you on the edge of your seat, even if there´s little to no "action" going on, if yknow what I mean. It´s the little things that make you go absolutely bonkers because you´ve been suffering forever and you just wanna scream at them to just-

But they won´t. Not now. Not for a loooong time. You hate it (and you hate that you love it). With every little interaction, the cup fills a bit more. The less action you put into those interactions, the faster the cup fills. (Yknow what I´m saying?) Until, at some point, a single drop would be enough to make the cup overflow. YKNOW WHAT I´M SAYING??

Ahhh, it´s just the little things, yknow? Idc about smut (I mean), GIMME THE TENSION. 😭

Also, can you imagine the LOOK MC´s gonna receive from Kate??? As she´s drinking from that straw??? Those lips??? Around that straw???

CAN U IMAGINE TANYA´S LOOK????

Pls. That´s literally them in that exact scenario. I AM WHEEZING.

Meanwhile, MC´s just there like-

YKNOW??

Like, poor thing´s confused af and so innocent, but also kinda used to all that weird shit by now and she´s literally just woken up, trying to enjoy her breakfast, and Tweedledum and Tweedledee are already using up all her energy for that day and-

Is one sane day in this house too much to ask for??

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If it hasn´t become clear enough by now: You have broken me with this. I can´t unthink this now. In fact, Imma go ahead and save that shit for later because there´s no way I´m NOT gonna use this at some point.

...Wait, can I? Like, is it okay if I use your lovely idea for my story?? Please?? 😭

If not, just lemme know. Send me another ask or dm me or whatever suits you best. ✌️😊

...If you fail to do so, however...

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Thank you so much for your ask! You´ve made my day (and my night) with this!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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EDIT:

😩🤌

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ANOTHER EDIT:

Okay but Tanya getting back at Kate by not only taking sip, but a whole BITE??? Despite knowing it'll have to get outta there at some point later again because vampires aren't made for human food??? And Kate just looks at her like-

challenge accepted

-and then it's basically just the two of them taking turns snatching something from MC's plate, trying their hardest to keep their faces somewhat neutral despite the horrid taste and, in the end, MC's plate is empty, she's still hungry because those two idiots have swallowed it all, and said idiots-

Well, looks like none of them is gonna get some now because 1) hooman's moody af because no food and 2) excuse them-

[genericficerblog]

Help my baby please

🍉I am Hala, a Palestinian from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip 😭😭. I fled the war with my husband to Egypt..

The story began on March 21, 2024 when my beautiful child was born.. He was a wonderful and special child.. Suddenly, a week after his birth, my child Abdul Aziz's belly swelled up a lot and I visited several doctors without discovering the reason.. After another week of the child's suffering, I took him to a specialized hospital and the doctors there discovered a blockage in Abdul Aziz's colon that prevented him from excreting stool.. It was decided to perform a surgical operation consisting of an opening in Abdul Aziz's belly to temporarily remove stool from his intestines until the affected part of the colon was removed in another complex surgical operation that cost thousands of dollars..😭😭

I am speaking to you now with great sadness about my child's condition and I ask you to help me and donate to me to collect the costs of the operation within a month from now.

I appeal to everyone who can donate any amount, no matter how small, because it will save my child and give us hope.

Please don't leave my son alone to suffer and struggle in these difficult days alone.. You can support my campaign by donating what you can or share my posts to reach others who can help us by raising the cost of the surgery you are helping in the life of an innocent child with your small contribution. ❤❤🍉🍉

Every donation makes a difference in his very difficult life

That is horrid. How does that even happen? Poor thing.