#I'M SORRY LUKE BUT THAT WAS *HORRIFYING*

[youling-the-ghost]

well, that sure is a screenshot

[swordsandflowercrowns]

I'm absolutely LIVING for the increase in luke and percy parallels, but something that's been rattling around my brain since I last listened to the lightning thief musical is that without luke, percy WOULD become him. I think that it's seeing the example of the cruelty and betrayal in luke that prevented percy from following the same path. he's horrified at how luke betrayed his friends, but luke believes he's doing it for the good of the demigods, just as percy would believe he's doing it for the good of his friends. percy is regularly disloyal to the gods by being loyal to his friends. he is saved from luke's fate simply because he came second and watched it unfold before him. I'm so sorry luke but you really are doomed by the narrative. you were always going to turn against the gods, even it it wasn't you. it had to happen.

[entitled-fangirl]

I can't promise that.

Jace Velaryon x wife!reader

Summary: Jace returns from the Wall, mourning the death of his brother. The reader comforts him in the dead of night.

Warnings: talks of death, mourning, making out, talks of sex, just sad Jace angst

A/n: If I had a nickel for every time I made a Jace fic, and it was an angst, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. I need happy Jace prompts 😭

Masterlist

.........................................

Jace's back was to her, but even from there, it was clear something was wrong.

She stepped into the dark beside him and set the candle on the sturdy railing. "My love?"

He finally turned to face her. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red, and hot tears were falling down his face.

She cooed, "Oh, Jace." She rushed to him and took his face in her hands. 

His hands gripped her waist, afraid she'd disappear if he let go. She was almost worried there would be bruises. 

Her stomach dropped at the sound of his light sobs. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she wiped his tears. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll kill him," he muttered through the sniffles.

"Jace, I know you're upset-"

"-Do you expect me to sit here and allow him to get away with this?" He pulled away from her as pure anger came through his voice. "He's killed my brother. He's killed the son of the Queen, the heir to Driftmark!" He began to pace back and forth, the tears still falling. "I vow to kill Aemond Targaryen."

"Don't vow things while you are upset."

"I'm not upset! I'm enraged, wife!" He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to sigh out his frustration. "And you? You seem just fine!"

She let out a breath and gripped the railing. She forced her voice to stay calm. "Jace. You must understand that I've had more time to process this. I am just as horrified as you, I promise."

Jace's breath became shaky as he tried to control his anger. His jaw clenched harshly. He refused to speak, knowing that doing so would only worsen things. 

"I understand your grief, Jace, but you cannot let it cloud your judgment. To want revenge is to start the war your mother is trying to avoid."

"They began it," he sobbed. "If we do nothing then my brother died in vain! Does that mean nothing to you?"

Her eyes softened. "My love…"

"I cannot bear this."

She reached out and caressed his cheek again. "This will pass. You must not let the loss of Luke toil over the brothers you still have left."

He leaned into her palm as he considered her words.

Finally, he collected himself, pulling away and wiping at his face harshly. "Forgive me. For losing my temper with you."

Her brows furrowed at the force he wiped his face with. "It's quite reasonable to be upset. I just don't want you to do something you will regret." 

When he continued to sniffle and wipe at his face, she pulled his hands away. "Perhaps we should take this inside?" She offered.

He nodded and took her hand, grabbing the candle with the other and pulling her inside. Seated on the foot of the bed, he watched her wet a cloth from the tub where she had bathed only hours before.

She stood between his legs and pulled his face up, beginning to gently wipe the cloth over his puffy cheeks, cleaning them of his tears.

He only stared at her, his eyes roaming over her beautiful face studying him. "Promise me something?"

She hummed lightly in question.

"You'll not fight this war."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "I could not bear to be on that bannister again in the night crying over you. I…" he voice faltered. "I cannot take another loss. Not you."

"I intend to do what the queen needs, Jace," she answered softly.

"What about what your future king needs?" He countered desperately as he gripped her wrist.

Her eyes met his. She was beginning to break down. "You know I can't…"

"Please."

She turned her head away from him, a shaky breath leaving her lips.

"I've always said I'd do anything for you. And you know I will," Jace pushed. His eyes watered again with fresh tears and his voice shook, "Can you not do so for me?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again, finding no words that would suffice. She began to gently wipe at his face again, dragging it down his neck.

"Please, speak," he begged.

She fought the lump in her throat. "You know what I'll say."

He sniffled and nodded, "Then make me a different promise?"

"If I can."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "That if you must fight in this war, it will be by my side."

She smiled, and a small laugh of relief came from her. "That's the most foolish thing you've asked of me, husband. You know that answer as well."

The tension left his shoulders and he flashed that grin that she loves so much. "I suppose it was. Still," he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him, "I'd like to hear you say it aloud."

She looked down at him, abandoning the cloth and cradling his head in her hands as she spoke, "Jacaerys Velayron, whether I become your queen or I die at the hands of a usurper, I am yours, body and soul, and I will fight for you and with you until my fate is decided."

His thumb rubbed a soothing pattern on her hip bone. "I am yours until my body is buried in the ground with my ancestors. And even beyond then." He smirked, "And there will forever be one woman destined to be mine, I know that quite well. So I either have you as my queen, or we die together as one."

She leaned down and kissed him deeply.

He immediately groaned into her mouth and stood up, his hands pulling and tugging at her waist and lower back as if he could pull her closer.

As if everything else they could've said is shown through their actions.

His hands finally reached up her back to pull at the laces of her dress. His fingers tugged gently.

"J…Jace," she panted as their lips barely parted. "Jace…"

His lips moved down her jaw in fervent kisses, nipping and sucking lightly.

"St…" She gasped when he reached a particularly sensitive spot on her collarbone. Her hands moved to his hair and pulled him away, "Jace, stop."

The word "stop" pulled him from his trance, and he immediately moved away from her. His eyes were wide in worry, "What's wrong?"

"Not tonight," she reasoned. "We shouldn't."

"Why?" He asked softly.

"We're both upset. We may make a mistake if we're not careful."

He hummed, "Loving you is no mistake."

"Jace…"

"I understand," he nodded, keeping disappointment from coming over his face. "Perhaps when our judgment returns?"

She nodded and gazed down at his lips. "I'd like that."

He grinned. "Alright." He stepped closer to her again. "Let us get to bed again."

She intwined her fingers with his and pulled him around the bed, the two settling in as they always do. 

"I miss you greatly, you know," she whispered against his neck as they held each other close. "Dragonstone was rather lonesome without a certain curly-haired prince to keep it company."

"The Wall was even colder than I thought it would be. And I saw snow. Felt it beneath my feet as it chilled me to the bone. And all the while, I thought of you."

 She nuzzled her nose to his jaw, making shivers run down his spine.

She sighed, "We'll make it, won't we? Through this war?"

"I shall pray so to any god that will listen."

She laughed, "I don't believe that's how it works." Her lips brushed up to his jaw.

A bright teasing smile came over him, "I have Targaryen blood, my love. Perhaps we are the gods."

"You surely are mine."

................................................

[cafe-smut]

I'm realizing that if Obey Me!MC ever met WHB!MC, they'd lose their shit.

-

OB: YOU HAVE TO DO WH A T TO SURVIVE?!

WHB: You dont?!

OB: that feels, and I mean this sincerely, so illegal. Are you ok? Is it consensual? Do I need to call someone for you?!

-

*demon bros fighting*

OB: SIT BOYS! Anyways, like I was saying-

WHB, staring at the Demon Brothers unable to move, kneeling on the ground: I cannot express to you how jealous I am right now.

-

OB, glaring at WHB!Leviathan: oh my diavolo you're a bitch. I feel like I just touched something dirty. Gross, ugh. LEVI COME SNUGGLE!!

WHB, watching Leviathan about to murder OB as other Levi turns into a happy blushy mess and gets headpats* oh no

-

Bael and Beelzebub staring at Beel and Belphie: so you don't just leave to do whatever?

Beel: no? I have a job here outside of Rad- why are you crying.

Bael: can we please trade???

Belphie: hELL NO!

-

OB: wait so your mammon is like, rich rich?

WHB: more like three but- wait is yours not?

OB: . . . No comment.

-

*WHB screaming in terror and trying to run at the sight of Simeon, Luke, and losing it at the name Raphael*

OB: angels where they're are evil and trying to kill them. Don't worry about it.

*10 minutes later*

WHB nestled in Simeon's wings literally having the time of their life and super upset about it: mAn, ouR aNgELs fUcKinG SUCK.

OB, staring down a chained up WHB!Barbatos with disgust: your demons suck too. Where are his clothes?

-

OB!Solomon: ^ ^

WHB: oh you're their solomon?! Man my demons would probably love to mee-

OB popping their head in: NO THEY WOULDNT HES A SHADY BITCH!!

OB!Solomon: how could you say such a thing?

OB: You poisoned me just last week!

OB!Solomon: I made you dinner as you weren't feeling well!

WHB: aww, how ni-

OB: EXACTLY!!! POISON!! I COULDNT MOVE FOR TWO DAYS!!

WHB: 0_o

-

*The whole demon bros and kings and company staring each other down*

WHB: ok, so um- this is kind of hard to explain-

OB: SOLOMON AHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THIS TIME YOU SHADY BITCH?!

Literally the whole WHB cast: SOLOMON?!

WHB: he's not like our Solomon. Sorry guys.

Someone: but it's-

*cue OB flipping OB!Solomon off as he hides a large thick tome behind his back while yelling at him. Lucifer facepalms, groaning*

OB!Lucifer: I have too much work for this.

OB, turning around and grinning: HEY YOU GUYS WANNA SEE A MAGIC TRICK?!

OB!Mammon, clocking it right away: TREASURE NO-

OB: Lucifer, bark!

OB!Lucifer: woof . . . You're fucking dead.

*silence. Both Satan's burst out laughing among others*

-

Meanwhile poor Luke is being threatened by a couple WHB Demons and that's OB!MC's child so NO THANK YOU!!

WHB is extremely jealous of the magic they can wield, but does help stop their more powerful demons from killing the OB angels. Who are horrified at the thought of aimless murder like that. Except Raphael, he's a warrior angel, but even he agrees that these angels are wrong.

(If OB!Micheal shows up that's going to be a shit show and I've got popcorn)

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation. 

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep. 

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better. 

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears. 

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered. 

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer. 

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea. 

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes. 

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you. 

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.” 

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air. 

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children. 

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.” 

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs. 

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.” 

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright. 

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon. 

Vhagar. 

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless. 

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell. 

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground. 

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs. 

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her. 

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat. 

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon. 

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns. 

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control. 

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon. 

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport. 

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy. 

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart. 

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!” 

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed. 

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them. 

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink. 

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes. 

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you. 

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar. 

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face. 

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard. 

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened. 

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours. 

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting. 

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you. 

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind. 

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” 

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles. 

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over. 

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it. 

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat. 

Did he do that to you? 

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground. 

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing. 

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain. 

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!” 

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him. 

Where was he, and where was your mother? 

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine. 

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane. 

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye. 

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words. 

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. 

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers. 

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull. 

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye. 

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them. 

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye. 

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill. 

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on. 

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction. 

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you. 

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you. 

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck. 

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer. 

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides. 

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair. 

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head. 

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!” Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened. 

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth. 

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong. 

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!” 

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be. 

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!” 

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms. 

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice. 

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth. 

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again. 

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond. 

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.” 

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected. 

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire. 

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you. 

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch. 

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression. 

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears. 

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.” 

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more. 

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.” 

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling. 

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.” 

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears. 

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage. 

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother. 

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage. 

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen. 

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs? 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years. 

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend. 

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people. 

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood. 

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break. 

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well. 

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch. 

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Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld, @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint

[devilevlls]

So for the drabbles (I think that’s how you spell it) could you do 14 with a vampire mc? Like basically following the same thing as the vampire event but this time it only affects humans (specifically only mc) and they lock themselves in their room to not hurt anyone? You could do whoever you think would fit best but I can list my favourites to help you decide! Barbatos, Lucifer, Solomon, Simeon, Thirteen and Raphel<3 if possible I’d like it to be sfw since they’re my comfort characters. Sorry if it’s confusing, I’m ESL. I love your writing, have an amazing time zone! (I think Luke would be interesting in this scenario) -⭐️anon

Heey! Thank you for the request! Here's the drabble with the plot: A disease that only affects humans and turns them into temporary vampires. ( I hope I understood correctly (►__◄) )

Why won't you let me help you?⋆.˚

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

The disease struck without warning, turning ordinary humans that step in devildom into temporary vampires, craving blood and darkness. MC found themselves paralyzed with fear as they read the notice in RAD’s newspaper and horrified by the potential harm they could cause, they locked themselves away in their room, avoiding contact with anyone, especially the seven brothers they had grown close to.

As the days passed, MC's isolation deepened, almost in a depressing way. They missed the chaos and laughs the brothers gave them, their thoughts consumed by guilt and fear. The human couldn't bear the idea of hurting the ones they cared about, even unintentionally. 

But this evening, a knock echoed through the silence of their room, followed by a familiar low, imposing voice.

"MC, open up. It's Lucifer," came the confident, almost arrogant voice of the demon who embodied pride itself.

Despite recognizing Lucifer's voice, MC hesitated. They couldn't bring themselves to face him, not when they feared their own newfound powers.

"Go away, Lucifer," MC called out, their voice trembling with apprehension. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

There was a scoff from the other side of the door, followed by a low chuckle. "Hurt me? You underestimate my abilities," Lucifer replied, his tone dripping with self-assurance. "I am Lucifer, the avatar of pride. Do you truly believe you could harm me? Just if I allow you to do so."

MC's heart pounded in their chest as they considered Lucifer's words. They knew he was one of the most powerful demons in devildom, but their fear was too great to risk it.

"I don't want to take that chance," MC confessed, their voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just leave me alone."

There was a moment of silence before Lucifer spoke again, his tone softer, almost gentle. "Why won't you let me help you? Hiding away won't make it pass. You're stronger than you realize, and you have friends who care about you. Everybody is concerned"

Tears welled up in MC's eyes as they listened to Lucifer's words. Despite his cocky demeanor, there was a hint of genuine concern in his voice, one that he only showed when around them.

Slowly, hesitantly, MC unlocked the door, revealing Lucifer standing before them with a knowing smile.

As Lucifer stepped into the room, his presence seemed to fill the space with an aura of confidence and reassurance. With a flick of his wrist, he closed the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the silence.

"MC, there's no need to be afraid," Lucifer said, his voice soft but commanding. "I'm here to help." The eldest looks around, noticing how dark the room was.

MC's heart fluttered nervously as they watched Lucifer approach, their instincts screaming at them to flee. 

"I... I don't know if I can control it," MC admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. "What if I hurt you?"

Lucifer's smile was reassuring as he reached out, gently placing a hand on MC's shoulder. "Trust me, darling. I've faced far worse than a temporary vampire."

With a poised determination, Lucifer tilts his head back, exposing the smooth expanse of his neck. "Here," his voice, a low murmur, invites MC, his offering laden with an underlying allure. "Take what you need. Just a small taste to soothe your hunger."

MC hesitates, caught in a tempest of conflicting desires. Yet, the relentless ache of hunger propels them forward, and the sight of Lucifer's skin proves too enticing to resist.

Their eyelids flutter closed, and leaning in, MC's fangs brush against the supple skin of Lucifer's neck. A teasing lick against his Adam’s apple elicits a shiver from Lucifer, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

Bold human…

A tremor courses through them as the warmth of Lucifer's blood meets their lips, its flavor boiling temptation and desire. A soft hiss escapes Lucifer's lips, his fingers instinctively finding purchase on MC's waist, drawing them closer into an embrace.

In that fleeting moment of intimacy, the hunger subsides, replaced by a tranquil sense of fulfillment. As they reluctantly part, their eyes lock with Lucifer's, a silent exchange of gratitude and understanding lingering in the charged atmosphere.

"Thank you, Luci..." MC whispered while breathing heavily, their voice filled with emotions.

Lucifer's smile deepens, a glimmer of pride dancing in his eyes. "You're stronger than you realize, MC. And remember, I'll always be here to offer support... or a drop of blood, should you require it. This will pass. Would you like me to stay with you?"

With a newfound sense of assurance blooming within, MC nods, reassured by the knowledge that they no longer face their struggles alone. "Please," they murmur softly.

Throughout the evening, they find solace in each other's presence, cuddling on the bed. As exhaustion finally claims MC's consciousness, they drift into a peaceful slumber, cradled in Lucifer's strong arms.

Once they're asleep, the avatar of pride reaches for his phone, capturing a tender moment with a click. With a gentle smile, he sends the image to the group chat with his brothers, accompanied by the words, "They're doing just fine."

Drabble prompts you can use in your requests!

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do!!

warnings: major tlt spoilers, (do I even need to put this?) kissing, reader has a good relationship with ares (sorry clarisse)

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of ares

requested: @childofthewargod

you knew what was happening the moment it happened. luke could never keep anything from you, this may have been because he was madly in love with you or perhaps because he was a truly horrified of making you angry

you knew how he was trying to betray the gods because of their ‘neglectful parenting’ but you had a decent relationship with your father (unlike many of your cabin mates) so you were unsure if you should join luke in his evil scheme

soon after, ares (aka your dad) had captured luke, threatening to hand the weapons back to the gods and make him face consequences for his actions, but lucky for him, kronos had planted the idea of a war with the gods in his mind, so the war god almost immediately joined kronos’ army

and that’s when you decided to join, because if your father had been on the team, then there wouldn’t be a problem with you joining

now all you had to do was try to convince percy to join once he gets back from his quest. It would be tonight if everything went smoothly this afternoon.

you would be lying if you said you were scared. what’s the worst that could happen? percy says he’s not joining? who cares?! you’ll be going through with the plan with or without him!

even though you aren’t scared you can’t help but be worried. worried about the future, what will happen after tonight

a familiar voice snaps you out of your worrisome thoughts, and it’s not just anyone it’s your beloved boyfriend- “I’ve been looking for you”

“I thought you were busy today?”

“I’m never too busy to see you”

“ew”

he takes a seat beside you on the grass, “what’re you doing out here?”

“reminiscing” is all you say

“about?”

“life”

he nods and takes your hand in his. he knew that wasn’t the entire truth, because when people claim to be ‘reminiscing on life’ it usually implies to be thought about past and present life, but he knows you. he knows you better than himself, he didn’t even have to ask you anything to know what you were really thinking

It was the future, you were thinking about your future life and he knew it, not a doubt in his mind

you sit in silence until you know it’s time for your plan to go into action, no words said but the sound of the lakes small ripples and chirping birds was enough

nothing will be the same after tonight

⚔️

it could have been worse right?

maybe.

percy didn’t join

were you surprised? no, not at all. you didn’t expect a newer demigod to understand the issue with the gods, not yet at least

but! the fun part was that you got to go through a portal. this may seem childish but you’re not allowed to say anything until you’ve tried it yourself

the only downside to the portal was that when you ran through you fell straight on your face onto a cold floor. where on earth were you?

you sit up and rub your head which took minor damage from the fall. when you look around you notice almost immediately where you are

a boat.

and not just any boat, the princess andromeda

all your thoughts come rushing back into your head the more you take in your surroundings. luke had told you before that you would be staying here for a little bit until the plan was settled

speaking of… you notice him sitting up beside you

“luke!” you rush over to him “are you okay?”

he holds up a thumbs up and you kiss the top of his head

you sit there for a moment to process the adjustment and once ready you go to his, or technically your shared room. you let him walk in first so you can close the door and you lean your back against it to catch your breath

luke turns to you and cups your face, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. you throw your arms around his neck and his hands trail down you until he reaches the belt loops of your low rise jeans, and he pulls your hips closer to his

“I love you” he mumbles between kisses

you lead him to the bed, knowing where this is going. you pull away for a moment to hurriedly rip your shoes off, and when luke realizes what you’re doing he throws his shoes off also, then proceeds to lay down. you take advantage of his position and straddle him, and before you lean down to proceed you slip your shirt off and throw it onto the floor, then hurriedly connecting your lips with his again

he slips his fingers back through your belt loops once again, and you move a hand to his curls, gently tugging at them, and you didn’t realize you had such an effect on him until you heard the sound he made. he decides to trail his kisses lower until he reaches a point where he can feel your pulse, and you let out a sigh of contentment at the action

you sit up for a moment to move yourself off of him to lay down, and he pulls you back in when you’re comfortable, his hands trailing up and down the skin of your bare waist

you begin to think: what were you even worried about in the first place? a good question considering you can’t even think about absolutely anything right now other than the boy attached to you

[anakinskywalker-and-theolympians]

The bird song- Luke Castellan x f!reader

Warning(s)/notes: Betrayal, Bittersweet ending, alternating povs, blood, stabbing, manipulation, killing

Summary: Based off the song "The bird song" by Noah Floesch

A/N: Might have a broken wrist? Maybe? Anyways, got the inspo when listening to the song. NOT PROOF READ

She was a bird

I was an arrow

We've been friends for a bit, but gods, she's gorgeous. She's just beautiful. Everything good and pure. Everything I'm not.

Both of us sure we were

A sword and sparrow

We were ment for each other though. I just knew it. Despite how different we are, how good and kind she is and how bad and cruel I am, we were destined to be together. Fates tangled together.

Still when we flew

We never knew

Months with by. The more time I spent with her, the more I felt awful for what I was doing. But despite that, I always loved her. No matter what.

There in the air

I felt her feathers

The time was approaching. I tried to stay with her. To always be there for her. But he made me. He pulled me away and forced me away. Leaving her. Alone. It was for the greater good. It'll all be worth it in the end.

First all at once

Then all together

Control. I was losing control. All of it. As I got corrupted I forgot some of my past. All I remember is... a girl? Doesn't matter though. Only the army and the destruction of the gods matter.

When I went through

That's when I knew

"Prove your alidgence." He commanded.

"How, my lord?" I respond, wondering how I could possibly prove my dedication any more than I have. I see him smirk.

"See this girl? Kill her." He commands, as two guards bring out a girl- her. The girl from my memories. The girl's eyes light up in both fear and something else. "L-Luke..?" She says weakly.

"How do you know my name?" I demand as I stand taller and look down upon her.

"Luke... y-you don't remember me..?" She asks, sadness filling her gaze.

"Even if I did, you have no right to call me by my name." I say sternly as look at her more closely, noticing the scar that ran along her lip. Something about it was familiar.

"Kill her." He demands, handing me Backbitter. I nod and walk towards her, gripping the sword tight. She looked horrified. Her eyes wide, body shaking violently.

"L-Luke please..." She pleaded, trembling as she trys to escape the tight grip of the guards. "Please..." She pleads quietly as I pull my sword back and-

I'm a killer

And a killer is a bad, bad thing to be

-stab.

She let's out a strangled gasp as she stared up at me, tears falling down her face. I retract the blade from her. Another gasp escaped her lips.

"I-I'll always... l-love you L-Luke..." She says softly as her body falls to the ground, blood going everywhere.

She's a giver

And a giver's even worse to folks like me

Then it hit me. All my memories flooding back. I stare at her body of the floor as she struggles to breathe. I fall to my knees and whisper "No... no, no, no.... god no... please..." I say as I grab her dying body and hold it in my arms. "Y/N.... Y/N please... please don't leave me... I cant live without you... I'm so sorry..." I say as I start crying.

'Cause I never really wanna be the one to hurt somebody

But it just keeps happening, yeah it just keeps happening

Her body lay lifeless in my arms. I shake her "Y/N?" Nothing. "Y/N?!" I say again, louder. I yell in anguish as I hold her lifeless corps in my arms, tight to my chest. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

I was a bird

He was an arrow

My best friend. My love. My purpose. Funny how we're only friends and that's how I feel. He's just so perfect. His perfect looking lips and smooth blonde hair. He's perfect. Popular, kind, sweet. Everything I could ever want.

I was allured

By the straight and the narrow

His kindness and love was undeniable. He was all I ever wanted. It's like we were meant for each other. Ying to my Yang. Black to my white. Evil to my Good.

What could I do?

His aim was true

Then he was gone. Without a word. He left and took my heart with him.

Years alone, hoping for his safe return.

After 2 years it seemed hopeless. Until he was there.

"L-Luke...?" I say, my voice wavering.

He glared at me, standing taller and straighter. "How do you know my name?"

My heart hurt at his words. "Luke... y-you don't remember me...?"

"Even if I did, you have no right to call me by my name." He says in a harsh tone as he stares at me, his eyes studying my face. The man behind him orders something and hands him a sword. My body tenses as he approaches me with it. My eyes go wide as u start shaking violently, unable to move.

"L-Luke please..." I plead as my body trembles, struggling against the guards holding me. "Please..." I plead as I look up at him. He retracts the blade and-

Straight to the heart

I let it happen

-stab.

I let out a gasp as he stabs me in the gut. Tears well up in my eyes as I look up at him. He retracts the blade and stares at me.

"I-I'll always... l-love you L-Luke..." I say quietly with a soft smile as I fall to the ground, crimson blood going all over the ground.

I couldn't hardly

Have ever imagined that

He falls to his knees in front of me. "No... no, no, no.... god no... please..." He says as he grabs me and holds me in his arms. "Y/N.... Y/N please... please don't leave me... I cant live without you... I'm so sorry..."

When he went through me

He'd hate what he's doing

Then he cries. I smile up at him and let out a rugged exhale, vision blurring as I lose consciousness.

And make me feel stupid

For choosing him too

Then I was at the entrance of Elysium. Alone. There was a throbbing pain in my chest. In my heart.

'Cause I'm a giver and a giver is a bad, bad thing to be

He's a killer and a killers even worse for folks like me

But I loved him.

But he killed me.

But I'll still love him. I always will. He was my purpose. And I know I was his.

'Cause I never really wanna feel the hurt from anybody

But it just keeps happening, yeah it just keeps happening

But here in Elysium, the moment plays over and over. His crying face as he holds me. I'll never forget that.

Yeah it just keeps happening

Never

Falling

Never to fly again

1 years....

Darling

Together when everything's

2 years....

Fading

The shade of the trees in the dark

3 years....

I'm in

Love with the idea of

"Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... don't let it happen again..."

Dying

With you in my arms but not

I saw her face. It's been far to long. As I end the awful reign of Kronos I see her. I was finally going to see her.

Like this

We can't really help who we are

To got back and see her.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

I wake up at the entrance to Elysium

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

A figure appears a few feet away.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

"What took you so long?" I hear the familiar sound say.

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

The sound of her. Of Y/N.

We can't really help who we are

We can't really help who we are

I run to her and hug her tight.

Damned to the end from the start

We can't really help who we are

"I'm so sorry..."

We can't really help who we are

"It's okay... I forgive you... always and forever...."

[tideswept]

if you’re so inclined, anakin faking amnesia (or maybe it’s real at first but then he loves the attention too much to stop) for the reverse trope prompts?

Nonnie, I'm sorry for taking so long to answer! 🙇‍♀️

Huh, this is a really interesting idea! I could take this in a very dark/sad direction, like Obi-Wan does knock him out and drags his ass back after their duel on Mustafar, so Anakin would be genuinely horrified at what's happened and completely throw himself into putting out as many fires as possible, unaware that he had a part in all of it.

Obi-Wan would be so torn. Happy, yet guilty, angry, yet relieved and thankful. Yoda would be giving him the 👀👀👀 eyes, but what better way to keep the twins safe, and make sure Anakin doesn't lapse again, then for all of them to remain together, under Obi-Wan's care? Even if Anakin did regain his memories later on (Force, no, Obi-Wan pleads) then he'll surely love his children too much to just instantly snap back into that dark, rage-filled mania he was in.

But then. Yeah. Anakin does start to remember bits and pieces, and he doesn't like what he's remembering. So he suppresses it. And then pretends it's not happening. And then when he can't pretend, it turns to outright lies. Maybe by then he's gotten together with Obi-Wan, and he's happy, so happy.

Luke and Leia are growing up so healthy, he's helping the Resistance (but has never been allowed to actively participate, just been made to teach and engineer things, which now he understands why, and it wasn't the excuse they gave that he was a father now and too precious to risk.) and now, after actual rest, and time, and food and not being crushed under a mountain of PTSD, exhaustion, stress, etc., etc., he can see that he was just a desperate, angry fool, Palpatine's plaything that went along right with it, and didn't even try to deviate because he'd fallen into a completely nihilistic mindset.

Now he has a family. Obi-Wan is happy; lately he's stopped having that haunted, tight look in his eyes. If Anakin reveals that he remembers everything.... he'll ruin everything. Again.

So he'll keep pretending to not know that he's a murderer.

(But for how long can that last?)

[devildom-moss]

You know that hit game FNAF?

I hope you do.

Anyways, could you write headcanons about how well the side characters would be at playing it?

Thanks <3

Okay, so I have never played this game - or really had any interest in playing it, so I watched some guy play one of the games, and I did a bit of research. Sorry this took so long! I did my best, though... I'm finally almost done with requests. I've got two more left (good news for the Solomon lovers).

The others playing FNAF headcanons (dateables + new sides)

Diavolo

Diavolo downloaded it after tuning in to one of Levi’s streams.

He found it amusing. Scary animatronics are so entertaining – although he thinks they’re more cute than scary.

Laughs in the face of jump scares and death. “Haha, look, Barbatos. The big fox one killed me. I’m dead now.” / “That’s very nice, My Lord. Did you finish your paperwork already?” / “. . .uhm.” / “You have ten seconds before we reenact your game. I’ll be the fox.”

Does not care about the lore. He’ll listen and might retain some details when Levi explains it, but he will not dig deep or look for easter eggs.

He kinda sucks, but he has a good time, and isn’t that what matters? He’s not super careful or watchful because it’s just a game. There’s nothing at stake, so he can relax and just mess around.

His favorite character is Foxy, and it’s genuinely as simple as “he’s red, and he’s a pirate.”

Barbatos

He has no interest in playing at first.

Slight aside: I think he’d like horror games, but he strikes me as more of a cinematic, artsy horror game guy – like Bramble or Little Nightmares. He also strikes me as someone who might enjoy farming sims, like he would love Stardew Valley and Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons. Pumpkin Panic would probably be a happy medium.

He’ll play if Diavolo, MC, or Luke ask him to; for anyone else, he’ll politely decline. Surprisingly, he’s not too bad. He’ll probably die once or twice, but he figures out what he has to do pretty quickly.

Barbatos doesn’t react to jump scares, and he avoids them as much as possible. He can play without moving his face – at least until one of the three people who could get him to play compliments him. In that case, he’ll smile a bit wider.

Nothing in that game could be more horrifying to Barbatos than Chuck E. Cheese – a real human world place where people take their children for some unfathomable reason. It’s run by a rat! That’s one of the reasons he won’t play if Solomon asks him too. One time Solomon loaded a Chuck E. Cheese mod version of the game that he asked Levi to make, and Barbatos nearly broke the control from fright.

Luke

The game is a little too scary for his liking, but he still plays it occasionally – just not alone. He gets more paranoid and jumpier for a few days after he plays, but he’ll insist that he’s fine to keep playing if anyone asks.

He’s not great, but he’s still the best out of everyone at Purgatory Hall. He tenses up and just either goes wide-eyed or starts yelling at the characters in the game, but other than that, at least he knows what he’s doing.

Luke likes all the toy versions of the animatronics because they look cute, but the nightmare ones freak him out.

A wave of relief washes over him once he beats a game. He’s so happy that he can finally turn the game off.

Simeon

This poor man does not understand how to play – at all. He forgets which keys do what constantly, so he can’t react fast enough.

It’s a very stressful experience for him when he tries to play – all 10 minutes or so before he loses. Simeon doesn’t get scared so much as he just repeatedly asks what he’s supposed to do with increasing urgency.

Simeon would prefer to watch someone else play, but overall, he isn’t that interested in the game.

However, Simeon does find the lore and story interesting, so if he watches Levi or Luke playing, he’ll ask them questions about the plot.

Somehow, watching Luke play makes him more anxious than when he plays – probably because he doesn’t want Luke to lose and be disappointed.

Solomon

Solomon enjoys it because it’s supposed to be dark and scary, but it doesn’t actually scare him at all – barring a few cheap jump scares. Still, he kind of likes it.

Unfortunately, Solomon kind of sucks. Like Diavolo, he finds the game so amusing that he just chuckles when things get stressful. He’s the type to hear or see something spooky in the game and do nothing just to see what happens. Okay, so maybe Solomon doesn’t suck, he just likes to see how the animatronics are going to get him – a real “oh boy, I sure hope I die” approach.

Solomon loves watching Luke play. It’s hilarious when Luke freaks out – and it’s even funnier to watch Simeon get nervous on his behalf.

Unironically thinks the nightmare versions are cute.

Thirteen

She hates jump scares so much.

She played once, and at the first jump scare, she let out a stifled shriek, pressed esc, put her cat ear headphones down, and left the room (to go find MC, probably).

No thank you. She doesn’t need that stress in her life. She will not try that again. She might watch someone else play but only if MC is there to comfort her or if it’s to laugh at Mammon for being scared.

She’s not afraid of the game, per se, she just doesn’t like being startled. She thinks the characters are cute, in a way - like creepy cute.

Raphael

He thinks it’s stupid, and he doesn’t understand why it’s so popular. Raphael doesn’t care for gaming in general – but especially horror. He doesn’t want to simulate a stressful situation for no reason. If he wanted stress, he’d call Michael.

Raphael will try the game if Luke asks him to, and he does alright, but gets bored right up until he messes something up and dies. You wouldn’t even be able to tell he was in trouble. An immoveable frown sits on his face the entire time.

When Luke asks if Raphael would like to try again, Raphael tells him that if he wants a spear-free computer, he won’t make Raphael play anymore. The message was received.

Raphael will only watch if Luke, Simeon, or Lucifer play, and even then, he would probably pass most of the time.

Mephisto

He doesn’t strike me as much of a gamer, either. If he does play games, he’d probably choose games that are visually stunning and at least semi-relaxing, like Journey or Flower (probably Zelda games too).

He would play it if Luke asked him to or if he wanted to do research on it for journalism purposes.

Mephisto does relatively well, but he likes to investigate a lot, so he gets a bit distracted and takes it slow sometimes. Unfortunately – or fortunately – he has a habit of stopping after losing once. He’ll pick up the game again some other day, but once he loses, he stops that game for the day. On one hand, Mephisto does not allow himself to get pulled into games that he loses, but it makes his progress slow.

When Mephisto plays, he bounces his leg the whole time to contain his anxiety. He appears relaxed, but he flinches at jump scares and his eyes widen when he’s actively trying not to die.

He’s super into the lore – call it journalistic curiosity or just call him a nerd.  

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

The way Condal, Hess and co write certain characters, especially Alicent, just makes them look like some kind of aliens who cannot comprehend the core of human nature and familial bonds (motherly love, sibling dynamic...) . I mean, fine, maybe they aren't parents honestly have no idea about their private lives nor do I want to know ), but that still doesn't justify the atrocious manner in which they have been portraying Alicent's relationship with her children. And I dislike the explanations that come from one part of the fandom (she married against her will, never wanted those children, never felt freedom...) I mean, I don't deny these, but they are not enough to explain or justify her weird (and sudden imo) detachment and dare i say, borderline hatred of her sons. Not to mention that this was the life of westerosi women, basically every one of them. Also, Ryan talked how Alicent and Viserys had "a loving marriage, just weren't in love " and generally holds Viserys in high regard, so he obviously doesn't see him as Alicent's abuser or anything. That's why i cannot understand what is the point of showing her so disgusted by her children and incapable of showing them love. Otto's influence? Maybe, but still not the greatest explanation. And she seems even harsher and distant to her sons this season than Otto ever was to her. She doesn't seem broken over Jaehaerys, she doesn't seem overly upset over Aegon (he's burned alive and is dying ffs and she won't shed a tear), Aemond is apparently an ireedemeable monster in her eyes fur some reason, even before RR... It's so frustrating that there are people who eat it all up and justify it as a genius and subtle storytelling with a lot of details that we "the whiners" refuse or are unable to grasp. Idk, I really liked her in s1 and although she was a bit inconsistent in ep 8 and 9 I hoped it would be retconed. Unfortunately, this season I'm watching a character I don't recognise anymore. And the worst thing is that she doesn't suffer from a lack of screentime like Aemond or Helaena do. Almost everything on tg revolves around her and yet I still have no idea what is her goal or who she is anymore.

Sorry for the rant.

Hello!

I could not agree with you more. Not sure if some kind of personal/family circumstances of HotD writers played a role in them fumbling the Greens family dynamic so badly but I am convinced that their "women good men bad" narrative policy did.

In "Driftmark" Alicent orders for Luke's eye to be cut out (and immediately, in public) - and then attacks Luke and Rhaenyra herself. But a few minutes (in show time) later she repents - and after that, apparently, she is all for "violence is reserved for men" agenda. That's where her disdain for Aemond (in whose name she was about to commit a public act of violence herself) is supposed to come from, I think. It doesn't even feel like she is horrified precisely by the fact that he might have almost killed (deliberately at that) his own brother. Lack of consistency and logic? Yes. Obliviousness at best, hypocrisy at worst (from Alicent, I mean)? Yes. But who cares, right? Alicent does not support the evil deeds of men - and that's what matters.

And her treatment of Aegon looks even more moronic. Girl, you put him on the throne against his will! After her meeting with Rhaenyra she knows it was a result of a misunderstanding (the favourite trick of this show, dammit - but it is a topic for a whole another conversation) but how is Aegon to blame for it?

I can relate to Alicent growing tired of being used and manipulated - but IMO (I agree with you here as well) this is not a good enough excuse for her to fully go into the "fuck yourselves, the lot of you" mode. But for the writers it is, at least it looks like it. They were trying to sell us the bullying of Aemond by Aegon (combined with the former's desire for power) being a sufficient motivation for Aemond to get rid of his brother (during the civil war where they are supposed to be on the same side no less) - and now they are trying to justify whatever Alicent does with her being a child bride and so on and so forth. I have no love for Viserys (or sympathy for Otto - where it comes to him pimping his teenage daughter out to the king) - but turning Alicent into this and expecting everyone to eat it up? Come on. Even some casual viewers are going "WTF" watching Alicent's scenes with her children, never mind those who are familiar with Fire and Blood.

And double yes to the point about the show very heavily focusing on Alicent to the detriment of many other characters (Aemond first of all). It feels like the writers believe that all that audience is supposed to know about Aemond now is that he is a bad guy - and they give him just enough screen time to show that. Meanwhile Alicent has loads of it - just so we could get a really good, really long look at her face and understand just how bad patriarchy failed her.

So, as I see it Alicent is now no more than a means to the end of hammering home the main idea of the show. How does she do that and what happens to her character in the process is unimportant - at least, to the writers and showrunners.

Sorry for the rant as well🙈

[spider-ghoul]

The Pain of losing him (Pt. 1?/Intro)

Summery: After Luke left, his girlfriend is alone to find herself. And as the years pass by, the girl with pretty hair becomes the Son of death.

FYI: This is part one of a fic I'm also posting on Ao3 and this is gonna serve as a background for the actual story (starting in chapter two) I'll be posting soon.

Sorry if this is bad lmao

No major content warning xx

~~~~~~~~~

When Luke Castellan was 19, he left. It was only three weeks after his birthday, the last week of july. He tried to take me with him, he really did. At night, as I toss and turn in my sheets, I can still hear his sweet voice filled with venom. 

“Darling, Please. Whoever Your Dad is still hasn't claimed you? Don't you think we could-” 

“Stop it luke. You’re crazy. I’m getting Chiron-” 

“Y/N, Darling, don’t.” 

And as i broke into a run, Something stung my ankle. When I woke up in the medic cabin hours later, he was gone. And a uncouncus Percy Jackson was beside me, his body turning in his unwanted sleep. 

I was fifteen then. My own birthday was coming up. I spent it at camp Half-blood without luke. Without knowing who my godly parent was. The Hermes cabin wasn’t the same without Luke, but I couldn’t leave camp. I attracted monsters like flies to honey. I didn’t know what else to do. I spent my nights in Luke's empty bed, any of the Hermes kids could have tried to take it from me. They didn’t. They missed the ghost of their brother just as much as I missed the ghost of my boyfriend. 

I was sixteen, when I went with the son of Poseidon to receive the golden fleece. It was supposed to be me, Percy, and Annabeth. And grover, after we rescued him. Clarisse tagged along. I hadn’t spoken to her, not since Luke. Believe it or not, they were friends. Despite the bickering and arguing, they were close. 

Talking to her again made it impossible to not think of him. 

Then, there were the sirens. Despite my better judgment, I tied myself up with Annabeth to hear their song. The first thing I saw was Luke. Then I saw myself. The scrawny girl was long gone. In her place, a boy. A boy with dark hair and eyes that matched mine. He looked like the boys in my old pinterest boards, in the stories with the morally gray characters. He looked like me. 

When Percy freed me from the ropes, and received Annabeth from the deep, which was horrifying. I asked Annabeth for her dagger. They were both horrified as the hair fell over the side of the boat, but as I ran my hand through my new hair, I smiled. 

When I went back to camp with Grover and the golden fleece, I went back to the Hermes cabin. And I still slept in his bed, but I felt so much better because not only was I a different person, I was myself. I talked to Chiron, and got a proper chest binder and then everyone knew I was a boy. 

I was still sixteen when My hair went from blonde, to brown, then to an inky black. The change in my hair was something I didn’t know how to feel about it. But it looked like me. And then, when I woke up from the nightmares of Luke, and I went outside to escape the restraints of his cabin, the grass died under my feet. I didn’t tell anyone. 

Percy Jackson was fourteen when his mom drove Grover, Thalia, Annabeth, Percy, and I to a boarding school. Me and Thalia had become quick friends and her anger towards Luke made me feel so, so much better. 

That was when I met two kids with the same dark eyes as me. I felt some uncanny urge to protect them. When the quest was put forward, I wanted to go. I didn’t. Not until a disheveled looking Percy Jackson found me that night. 

Percy promised Nico something that I didn’t quite hear. 

Percy Jackson Held up the sky. So did Annabeth Chase. And so did I. 

The cosmos weighed nothing compared to having to tell that little boy his sister was dead. I held his hand, and he said it, not to me, but to percy. 

“Where’s my sister?” 

I hugged him tightly as Percy handed him the last thing his sister wanted him to have. And the ground split open underneath me. 

As Nico ran, the dark blur over my head told both me, and Percy Jackson about my father.

[hockybish]

An Ice Cream Date with a Group

aka the first time Jack asked Ava out

l nightingale au l jack x ava l masterlist l

May 2023

"And they have the best ice cream, you should really check it out if you like ice cream." Jack rambled getting extremely nervous at that moment.

He was going back to Michigan in a few days so this was going to be his last appointment with Ava hopefully for forever. But he really liked her and wanted to get to know her more.

So he was going to shoot his shot.

"Do they have zanzibar chocolate? Like the good stuff, not the kind with marshmallows?" Ava's laughed tugged at his heart strings, making the nervous pit in his stomach do a little spin.

"The best you've ever had" He had no idea if the ice cream shop had what she wanted, but he would fib about it until she said yes and he will find out later.

"Thanks for the recommendation Jack, I'll have to check it out sometime." The physical therapist wrote up more notes to send off to Michigan with her patient.

"Or, if you'd like, we could go try it out sometime, maybe tonight?" Jack let out the breath he didn't realize was stuck.

"Oh Jack-"

The smile that once adorned Ava's face had fallen and she looked almost scared and nervous. Her eyes bounced around the room until they landed on the picture on the cabinet. She wasn't expecting that.

"Please hear me out Ava. In about ten minutes I won't be your patient anymore so it wouldn't be weird. I've gotten to know you a little bit the past week and I need to know you more. And I've just got this feeling like we could be something, something good." He reached out for her hand with the hand on his non injured arm, but she pulled it away.

"Jack, I can't. I have a boyfriend. I'm sorry" Jack's face fell and he felt so stupid taking a chance. Ava couldn't help but apologize. She felt bad, she liked Jack but she was taken.

"We can still be friends! I wanna be friends, you seem cool." Ava quickly scribbled down her number on piece of paper for Jack.

She hoped he would message her in ten minutes. Maybe they could set something as like a group before they all left, that way her boyfriend wouldn't get too jealous, hopefully.

Jack did. He got Luke, Svea and a couple others to gather at the little ice cream shop in JC, just so he could hang out with the girl he had major feelings for.

"Are we like here to supervise them or something?" Luke asked Svea, pointing his mint ice cream at Jack and Ava. They were off from the main group in a little booth laughing at something Jack had said.

"Awe they're in love though. Just look at them Luke's. Sitting side by side, close enough for her to lay her head on his shoulder, or for him to give her a kiss." Svea thought about the Captain, her last real boyfriend while Luke couldn't get that cute photographer out of his mind.

"So is it as good as you hoped it would?" Jack took a lick of his ice cream cone. The tip of his nose hit cold creamy treat and he got a bit on his nose.[

Ava shook her head yes while laughing at Jack's silliness. "You've got a little something." She laughed a little too hard letting out a little snort. She quickly cover her mouth and look at Jack horrified.

It was too late Jack had already heard the sound and couldn't contain his own laughter. Jack loved it, It was adorable, she was adorable. Why did she have to be taken. He really just want kiss her and call her his. Maybe even take him home to Michigan with him.

"Earth to Jack, what cha thinkin bout?" Jack was staring off into space so Ava waved her hand in front of his face to gain back his attention.

"I want to take you to Michigan, you'd love it, me and my brother's house is right on water and we spend the majority of our time on the water and playing pool." He explained.

Ava bit her lip nervously, she couldn't do that with him. Joe wouldn't be too happy about it and she didn't want to get yelled at for wanting to have fun with her new friends. "Maybe."

He'd take a maybe.

"I'm really glad you said yes. I- " Ava and Jack locked eyes. The tension was thick, Jack started to lean in, and would have gone all the way had he not been interrupted.

"Hey love birds" Luke and Svea slid into the opposite side of the booth.

"Oh we're not" Jack shook his head. Maybe one day when she didn't have a ..

"I have a boyfriend" Ava added. Luke gave Jack an apologetic look, he didn't mean to imply something that wasn't happening, Jack shrugged.

[rosielovesspence]

I think your requests are open. Sorry if I missed something saying they were closed. But I just finished twdg season 2, and I'm in shambles. I love Luke and definitely looked to him as a big brother figure that I never had. I was hoping we could get a fic or headcanons about him sort of in Lee's place? Like he finds a young kid and takes them in for a while. Yeah, hopefully that makes sense.

Pookie my requests are never closed 🎀 I love him sm, he'd so be a girl dad tbh

🎀 Luke was genuinely terrified when he found you, I mean this random apocalypse starts and you're in the woods.

🎀 He's horrified by the thought of having to kill a kid, and luckily you prove you're not infected and he doesn't have to

🎀 Luke doesn't even have the time to worry about if he can care for you or not before he's got you piggyback carrying you back to the house

🎀 Everyone else is fond of you, but since Luke found you they make you fully his responsibility

🎀Everyone else will kindly offer you things but Luke is much more insistent, whereas Pete would ask "Are you hungry?" Luke is already handing you a sandwich saying, "Eat. You're hungry."

🎀He may seem strict at times but truly he's just panicked about making sure you're safe, he make have small panic streaks and yell if you go somewhere by yourself but he's trying

🎀 If you're on your best behavior though, so is he, carrying you piggyback around the house or letting you do normal kid stuff and paint his nails (the nail polish is probably expired but you have fun so he doesn't care)

🎀 Teaching you how to shoot and stab was another challenge, he didn't want you to have to fight anything but having to teach you things was crazy.

🎀 The hardest part of having you is finding you clothes while you're so small and young. Most of the time he has to find XL clothes and have Carlos use his needle work to crop and shrink them to be your size.

🎀Finding you young was quite an experience when he had to go on field missions and came back with crayons and paper instead of ammo

🎀 Once you became older it's much easier, you're much more mature and attentive but with Luke around you're definitely less mature than the average kid your age

🎀 Eventually when Luke finds Clem you confused her. Since she was raised to immediately meet the scary world, your innocence and joking manner scares her, it's only cause you've been raised getting a kiss on the cheek and hug before bed by Luke

🎀 Everyone can tell you're the most important thing to him, putting himself in danger constantly to protect you, showing you off to the others anytime you do anything good

"Woah! Pete, look, look! Y/n did these!" Luke would hold up a target paper, showing you hit the bullseye and then in the other hand a photo you drew of him and you. "Wow Luke, they've got a good shot, but you've shown me that drawing already, they drew it when they were six." Luke chuckled, "I know but it's just so cute."

🎀 I'm mentioned it before but piggyback rides are an everyday thing with this man.

"Whatcha doing?" Luke walked up behind you on the couch as you played on a small game console you found. "I found this old thing! It's got Zelda on it!" You told him excitedly before shrieking as he picked you up off the couch, sitting your legs on his shoulders and holding you up there. "Put me down!" You yell out while giggling. So he semi drops you so your arms are around his neck. "Much better." He walks you around the house, holding your legs up with his arms as you laughed.

[sharingoreozwithbeelfox]

A request if you want to do this, if you dont its fine.

The Celestial realm wanting to go to war again, and the brothers meet with the Archangels, MC reaction to their reaction

I am INCREDIBLY late and I am so so sorry for that. I think the OM hyperfixation is looming again so I'm gonna try to get through these requests I've left sitting!

Obey Me spoilers ahead!

I have no idea what would cause another Celestial War. Perhaps with Diavolo bringing such peace between the worlds, the same intermingling that doomed angel Lilith would happen again, and the older, less accepting angels would not be happy about that.

Diavolo is horrified at the prospect. He wants peace, and he fears that another Celestial War would reset everything he's worked for.

Lucifer, who cares almost as much about Diavolo's dreams as Diavolo himself, elects to go visit Michael and try to convince him to find a peaceful solution. He trusts that if he can convince anyone, it's Michael. They were almost brothers once, after all.

Despite Mammon being intimidated by Michael, he speaks up with surprising conviction. "C'mon, Michael. I may have been a good-for-nothin' when you were teachin' me, but I've learned a lot since then, and I've seen what a war could do. You don't want this!"

Leviathan backs him up on that. He's an admiral, after all.

Satan wasn't alive yet for the Great Celestial War, but he's seen the effect it had on his brothers. He may not have the receipts to give to Michael, who he doesn't know, but he supports his brothers 100%.

So does Asmodeus, and tho he remembers the war, I can't think of smth unique for him to say.

Honestly, Beel and Belphie may need to sit the negotiations out. I think talking abt the war while trying to prevent another one may get them pretty worked up.

Believe it or not, Michael does not want this. He doesn't want a war. He wants peace, too. He's intrigued by Diavolo's dream of unity, and by the new lives of his former allies. He regrets fighting against them in the first place. On his own, he's not impossible to convince. He just needs to worry about support from the other angels (save for Raphael and Luke, of course), especially the boys' father...

ig MC's reaction depends on your personal MC, but I can imagine it's a tense time for everyone. If the brothers bring you along to meet with Michael, it's a little unfortunate that you couldn't meet him under better circumstances.

[lovinbarzal]

DRIVERS LICENSE | trevor zegras

trevor zegras x fem! cooke! reader

a/n this is set in NTDP era and the reader is the daughter of Olivia Cooke who is an exchange student for the following school year and is staying with the Hughes family as her host family <3 and part will be posted sometime this week hopefully!

warnings: strong language and cheating

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

"Trevor, shut up!" Y/n yelled as Trevor roared in laughter. He was attempting to teach her to drive.

"I'm sorry but I can't take you seriously with your accent." He smiled as she rolled her eyes at him.

"I do not have an accent." She said fixing her posture as looking forward.

"Yes, you do." Trevor leaned back in his seat with a smile still set on his face.

She rolled her eyes before continuing to drive forward and trying to park. Once she finished the two got out to examine her parking abilities.

"Oh my god. You cannot park to save your life." He giggled seeing the girl's horrifying parking job. He was crouched in front of the wheels.

"Shut up. I only know how to drive on the other side. Why doesn't America do that?" She said crossing her arms.

"Because Americans are idiots." He said looking up at her.

"But don't worry, you'll learn and then you can come visit me anytime." He said standing up and wrapping his arms around her.

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

She excitedly drove up to the Hughes lake house and honked her horn causing everyone to run out as Jim got out of the driver seat. Y/n got out of the passenger seat with a frown.

"I tried. I really did and I..." She paused, "Passed!"

Trevor was the first to tackle her in a hug and congratulate her. The Hughes brothers following before Ellen.

"Told you." Trevor whispered to her as they all went back to the house.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Cryin' 'cause you weren't around

"Y/n/n, please come out. It's time for dinner." Jack said leaning against the locked door.

Trevor and Y/n broke up. Why? No one knew and neither of them would say anything.

The Summer was over, it was now late Winter, and Jack was supposed to leave back to USA training. She knew she had to come out.

"Hey." He said as she opended the door. He sent her that Golden Hughes smile. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

"Come on, Mom made your favorite." The went down the stairs.

She felt better after dinner. None of the Hughes brought up the breakup or asked her what happened. It was normal. Well, as normal as it gets for a Hughs family dinner. Luke and Jack kept launching pieces of their food at each other before Luke accidentally hit Y/n which led to them all launching pieces of their chicken at each other. Jim and Ellen would've stopped them but seeing the smile that had filled Y/n's face stopped them.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

"Was I not enough?" Y/n aksed Luke over facetime. She had gone back home since her year was over. It was summer again.

"Don't say that." He said rolling over on his bed.

"But look at his instagram. He already has a new girl." She said with tears threatening to escape her eyes.

"And? You are perfect. If he doesn't see that his loss. Plus she's a bitch." He said as she furrowed her brows.

"How do you know?" She said sitting up from her bed. His eyes widened. He was not supposed to mention anything about knowing her.

"She just looks like it." He shrugged off.

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

"He brought her to the lake house, didn't he?" She said tucking hair behind her ear.

"Yeah." He said looking down.

"It's fine." She mumbled.

"You can still come down here, you know." Luke said.

"It's only June. You can stay for the rest of the summer. Mom missed you, we all do." Luke was telling the truth. They all missed you.

"I miss Mama Hughes and all of you but I don't know. What if it's awkward?" She layed back on her bed.

"Then we can avoid them. Plus she barely leaves the guest room." Y/n's brows furrowed.

"She doesn't sleep with Trevor in his room?" She questioned. After Trevor asked her out, they always slept in his room together.

"Nope. She tried to go into your room but Trevor stopped her." He said as Y/n softly smiled.

"You guys didn't turn my room into another guest room?" She questioned.

"Of course not. We wanted to make it a game room but Mom wouldn't let us." He joked.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

"Please just think about coming for me. I miss my partner in crime." He said.

"I'll think about it." She said as her front door opened signaling that her mom was home.

"My Mum is home. I'll text you." She said before hanging up.

Maybe she should go back.