#Is he serious? Is he fucking with them? Both
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demonic0angel · 1 day ago
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DC x DP: Jazz decides her boyfriend and his dad need some family therapy over this whole "Kill the Joker/Only Lock Up the Joker" disagreement they have. Eventually they compromise: They lock him up in Walker's ghost prison!
“If you loved me, you would’ve avenged me!”
“You know I can’t break that promise to myself! If I kill, then what’s stopping me from killing others?! We are not judge, jury or executi—”
“Shut your damn mouth! You have no backbone, that’s why! You spineless, weak, pathetic excuse of a—”
“Jason!” Jazz barked, glancing at Bruce’s expression, which had entirely closed off from hurt. Jason winced, also realizing what he said, but he pursed his lips and didn’t say a word, too prideful to make the first move and apologize.
Jazz rubbed her forehead and looked at her notes. Why did she do this again? No wonder it was discouraged to have doctors treat families or loved ones. She could already feel the looming presence of Ethical Concerns over her shoulder.
“Okay,” she said, because she started this, so she’d be damned if she didn’t finish it, “let’s restart. First, let’s calmly—” she looked at them both in the eyes, emphasizing the word carefully, “—express our feelings about the situation to each other, okay? Everyone will have a turn to speak.”
“What’s there to say?” Jason grouched. “He won’t kill the Joker, I refuse to compromise and let that trash live on and kill others!”
“Okay,” Jazz said, “Bruce, what do you have to say?”
“… I won’t kill.”
Jason bristled. Jazz quickly interrupted, “How about we find another solution? Maybe we can think of another plan so both of you will be satisfied.”
“We put the Joker in Arkham,” Bruce said.
Jason sneered. “Yeah, but he escapes every few weeks, doesn’t he? Don’t lie, Arkham has never been a real solution!”
Bruce looked forlorn. “I love you, Jason,” he said, with a quiet sort of conviction.
Jason glared at him. “Fuck you.”
“Jason,” Jazz scolded, and he huffed out of his nose, crossing his arms. He was so lucky that she loved him to death and back and all of the cycles of life in between.
Wait a minute… death?
Jazz perked up and said, “I may have a solution.” Both men turned to look at her, giving her their full attention. “In the Ghost Zone, there is a prison there that holds all of our worst criminals. It’s been upgraded several times and it’s very secure. Every time someone has broken out— and it’s only been a few times in the last few centuries— they’ve been found and caught within a day. Also, since everyone in there is already dead, even if the Joker got out, he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone.” She smiled. “What do you think?”
Jason and Bruce looked at each other and then at Jazz. They nodded once in frightening unison as they both crossed their arms and leaned back into their seats, expressions serious.
“Tell us how we can get the Joker in there.”
Jazz smiled and nodded. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all!
One family problem solved, only thirty-one more to go!
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hexlenx · 3 days ago
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LIE DETECTOR — aaron taylor-johnson
In which both you and your husband were invited to do a lie detector test in the vanity fair channel.
note: I only own the story not the channel and our daddy Aaron. This was also inspired by Ariana Grande and Cynthia's lie detector episode so some of the questions in this story might be the same as the episode. I honestly don't like Sam Tayler that much because of her marrying a male so much younger than her but I can't lie that she's a decently good person, she matched Aaron's freak but a bit too much—
warnings!: none really.
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"Hello I am Mr. Johnson, married to this lovely amazing woman here." Aaron Johnson greeted towards the large camera in front of him and his wife, who was beside him blushing as well as smiling widely at what he said, before moving his gaze towards you. Everyone in the room as well as the viewers could see the love in his eyes with the way he looks at you.
"And I am [ Your Name ] Johnson, the wife of this very handsome and devilishly charming bloke beside me." You grinned at the camera while moving your hand towards your husband's hand before holding on to it. This lead to Aaron subconsciously intertwining both of your hands before mindlessly holding it up for him to kiss your joined hands.
It was an adorable sight for everyone watching as they could feel the pure love coming from them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, you are here to take a lie detector test. One will be attached to a machine for the test to work and the other will be sitting in the chair in front of you to ask you some questions. So who will be ready to take the hot seat?" The woman behind the camera said to the couple. After hearing this, you raised your free hand taking you and your husband by surprise.
"I think I can go first." You said while you looked at your husband, seeing if he agrees.
"You sure? I can go first for you." Aaron proposed but you shook your head and said you were okay to go first.
Now seated in your places, the woman, Stephanie, who was a lie detector professional put a black strap around your chest as well as a smaller one around your index finger.
"You alright, love?" Aaron asked his lover while smiling slightly when he saw you closing your eyes when the straps were put on you. He could tell you were about to enjoy this test and he could tell he would as well.
"Yes! Does this detect my anxiety as well?" You asked towards Stephanie who paused for a while.
"Yes, it can."
"Oh fuck me." You cursed making your husband laugh at your misery.
"Oh yea, laugh at my misery, why don't you?" This made Aaron laugh even harder before composing himself.
"Right. So before we start with the serious question, I need you to answer some simple questions to calibrate the machine. You okay with that, love?" Aaron inquired.
"Oh, Absolutely." You agreed. Aaron nodded and cleared his throat before asking you the questions.
"Alright, are you [ Your Name ] [Last Name ] Johnson?"
"Yes."
Stephanie nodded.
"Were you born in [ Birthday ]?"
"Yes."
Another nod from Stephanie.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yes but at the same time I feel really excited."
Another nod.
"Were you and Mr.Johnson married in [ date ] and at [ time ]?"
"That's oddly very specific but yes." Aaron chuckled at this because he agrees.
"The machine has been calibrated." Stephanie informed the couple to which they nodded. You adjusted in your seat before breathing out to ready yourself for the real questions.
"You ready, hon?" Aaron looked at his wife who nodded with a small 'yep'.
"Love, you've won two oscars and was awarded of the best young actress award in 2013. Would you say that you have the best work ethic?" This made you think a bit because you definitely don't have the best one right now but it was alright and you were comfortable.
"I wouldn't say I have the best, I mean there are some times where it's the worst and there are also times where it worked in the most conventional way. I would just say I'm a workaholic." You explained it as best as you could making Stephanie nod a yes from behind the lie detector. This caused you to beam in excitement, you knew to yourself that you weren't lying and seeing that it was confirmed made you excited.
Seeing you excited made Aaron smile at you fondly. He always loved seeing you light up, it's one of the things that made his days brighter even on his worst days. He guesses that this lie detector test would help both of you gain more trust in each other in some way.
"Oh you are definitely a workaholic. Speaking of, the next question is are you a workaholic?" Aaron chuckled out when he saw you sarcastically roll your eyes.
"Duh? I just did a few moments ago."
"Truthful." Stephanie said making you smile at her.
"Next is, would you work with this person?" Aaron slid a photo of Ben Barnes to which you chuckled.
"Oh my god, not Benjamin!" You dramatically exclaimed as you saw the photo of your long time friend, to which everyone chuckled in amusement. "We've worked together multiple times, secretly. Though Aaron knows this because he's 'his brother from another mother' if you get what that reference means." You winked at the camera.
"Hey! We're supposed to keep Padfoot a secret, what would his banshee of a mother think of now?" Aaron playfully reprimanded you to which you laughed because you understood his joke quite well.
"James, you practically announced that he was living with you since we were teens." You deadpanned continuing the joke as your husband playfully glared at you.
"Everything she said is the truth." Stephanie said, making everyone watching gape as you both basically revealed the Sirius Black and James Potter fancasts are best friends to the point of barging in each other's homes like the Harry Potter characters.
Both you and your husband exchanged amused glances before continuing on with the questions.
"What do you think of this photo?" Aaron slid another photo of you and Sam Taylor smiling at the camera on the way to the Tony Awards.
"Aw, it's Sammy! This was probably one of my favorite photos because if it weren't for Sam, me and Aaron wouldn't be together to this day. Because fun fact, Sam was the one who kept trying to put us together whenever she could when we met each other in the film Kick-Ass. It also just happened that I was the love interest of Dave Lizewski so it kind of made her set on her 'matchmaking' as she calls it. She's like a mother to me, truly." You explained in fondness, it was true. The woman was not that very liked due to her marrying a way more younger man than her but behind all that, she was truly only a woman who loved to love. Her movies directed by her showed that.
Sam saw what you and Aaron had and wanted you to be able to experience the type of love she couldn't have when she was younger. A love that was shared with a pair at the same age or close to their age. Sam loved her husband who was 34 now but even she knew that it wouldn't last, she was 57 for god's sake. She knew she would end up divorced sooner or later and she wanted to see you end up with someone you love and is the same age, she didn't want you to end up like her. Because she truly thought of you as her daughter as well.
Aaron stared at you with the warmest and loving eyes you could ever see in a person. He was deeply in love with you and the viewers can see it, feel it. He knew that you loved talking about Sam, she became like a mother figure to him too. She was the one who he confided to whenever he was worried about making the wrong move towards you and he never once regretted asking her for help because he wouldn't be married to you if he did.
"Alright, love. Next question is—" Aaron scoffed off a laugh threatening to burst out of his mouth when he read the question.
"What? What is it?" You asked worriedly to your husband who shook his head no before stuttering out the question.
"Do you believe the moon landing was fake?"
"What the fuck? What kind of question is that? No!" You voiced out in confusion. Of course you knew it was real! Right?
"Inconclusive." Stephanie hid a smile as she said this, the machine was indeed saying it was inconclusive.
Aaron bursted out of laughing as soon as he heard that.
"You think it was fake?" Your husband laughed out while smacking his thigh from amusement.
"No! I didn't until Stephanie put that in me!" You exclaimed as you looked absolutely repulsed and confused. Maybe this is rigged.
"Oh god, that is hilarious! I am never letting this go down, love." Aaron breathed out as he tried to compose himself. You on the other hand, covered your face with your hands in disbelief.
"Do you believe the earth is flat?"
"No!"
"Deceptive."
Another burst of laughter as well as a gasp of disbelief.
"You think the Earth's flat now?" Aaron was almost crying because of how entertaining this was. This was the best day of his life, one of them at least. "Let's try again, Do you think the Earth is flat?"
"No, the earth is round." You said, now much more calmer than before. This made Stephanie nod in confirmation that you were indeed telling the truth.
"I think you were still stuck with the moon landing, love."
"I was definitely still stuck there."
"Alright there is one more question before we switch." Aaron announced after a series of questions went by. You nodded and slightly adjusted in your seat.
"Do you love me?"
"Of course, I do, very much." You answered instantly and with a single nod from Stephanie, Aaron smiled softly at you to which you did the same.
"Why?" Aaron added making you pretend to think, which made him chuckle a bit.
"The right question for that is 'cuz, why not?" You said with a smile as your husband only raised a brow signalling you to elaborate.
"What's there not to love about you or yourself in general?" You said softly as you looked into his eyes with that same look that he has on his. Both of you stared at each other in silence. God, He thinks he just fell in love with you again. He thought as he took in your whole being in front of him.
"I don't know—a lot, I guess?" He shrugged seemingly nonchalant but you knew better.
"Well I love them and love all of you." You said short and honestly. To which Stephanie nodded once again to confirm that what you said was true. The Lie detector professional knew she doesn't need to speak to confirm this so she settled with a simple nod like from before because she did not want to ruin this cute moment the soulmates were having. Yes, she thinks both of you are soulmates. Not everyone would look at their spouse like that even after getting married or spending time with each other.
"God fuckin' damn it, I think I just fell in love with you over and over again."
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nvtstvrns · 1 day ago
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it won’t hurt - Chris Sturniolo
Bsf!chris, fem!reader, smut
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In which: you get in a fight with Chris and you both go your separate ways, until he comes knocking on your door begging to let him inside.
Contains: smut, unprotected p in v, best friends, make up sex, no established relationship, pet names (ma, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc)
Authors note: I’m bored and idk where this idea came from. Enjoy! Divider creds @enchanthings and @xurengu0
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It was almost 10pm and I hadn’t gotten a single message from Chris after our argument earlier, no messages in general. I decided to finally let it go and just get in the shower. I was sore from practice and I wanted to relax my muscles, that’s when I heard my phone ring. I was just unbuttoning my pants. I pick up my phone. It was Chris.
I roll my eyes but I end up answering it. “What?” I say when I answer the phone.
“Damn. Couldn’t be nicer.” He says. “Can you let me in please?” He asks. I furrow my eyebrows. What does he mean let him in.
“Chris what do you mean? Are you seriously at the front door right now?” I ask buttoning my pants back up and turning off the shower. It was raining really hard out and he was probably soaked because he definitely did not drive here.
“Yeah I am. I felt bad for fighting with you earlier and I wanted to apologize.” He says. My eyes light up. I knew he felt bad for the fight earlier.
“Oh. Ok I’m coming.” I say opening the bathroom door and walking down the steps to the front door. He was standing there completely soaked from the rain. I look him up and down.
“Hey…come inside.” I say opening the door fully so he can come inside. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was being a selfish bitch and you had every right to call me that.” I say sitting on a nearby chair.
“no, I’m sorry for calling you that, you aren’t a selfish bitch I said that in the heat of the moment.” He claims.
After we apologize to each other he tries sitting down but I don’t let him.
“I think you might have some clothes left from the last time you were over here, I can get those for you.” I note before I walk upstairs and get the clothes for him. When I come back down he’s walking around and looking for food in the fridge. I hand him the clothes.
“Is there any way I could take a shower? I don’t like the feeling of the rain.” He says tugging on his clothes.
“Yeah, I was just about to take one but you can take one instead.” I say walking up the stairs with him following behind me. “Oh, y/n you can join me if you want.” He says shrugging as we reach the bathroom. My face turns red and I turn to face him.
“Uh, no it’s okay, you can shower by yourself Chris.” I giggle. He starts taking off his pants.
“Come on, it’s fine, we’re best friends anyway, we used to take baths together.” He says pulling his hoodie over his head.
“Yeah, Chris when we were fucking eight, not as adults.” I say sitting on the counter. Before he takes off his underwear he gets in the shower, throwing them over the top of the curtain rod.
“Oh come on, I’ll keep my hands and eyes to myself, it won’t hurt.” He says peeking out of the shower curtain. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
“Chris fine I’m getting in.” I mutter pulling off my clothes. “This is weird.”
I step inside the shower and he immediately breaks his word. His eyes are on me immediately. I cover myself up self consciously. He grabs my arms and puts them down. “Sweetheart, don’t cover yourself you’re fucking beautiful.” He says staring into my eyes.
I burst into laughter. “Okay Chris, I’m beautiful.” I say through my laughs.
“I’m being serious pretty girl….” He says softly, his left hand trailing up my side slowly. I look down at his hand and then back up at him. “Chris…you broke your word, you didn’t keep your eyes or hands to yourself.” I note feeling my legs start to go numb.
Before I know it my mouth is gravitating towards his and we’re kissing in the shower. Kissing my best friend in the shower.
My hands attach to his shoulders and I jump up wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall and leaves sloppy kisses all over my chest face and neck. “God you’re perfect ma.”
Soon enough we’re out of the shower and in my bed his body hovering over mine as he kisses me deeply. His hands roam my whole body leaving me feel like I’m on fire. I’m ready for him. More than ready for him.
“Chris…Chris I want you…please I want you.” I say quietly, rolling my hips under him.
“Mmm you want me real bad ma?” He says his hand reaching in between our bodies as he rubs my clit.
“Oh my god, Chris, please…more.” I say. He finally complies and he pushes into me slowly. I bite my lip and furrow my eyebrows together.
The deeper he goes the more vocal I am. His tip brushes against my cervix just right and his hand stimulates my clit. He has too much experience on how to make a girl feel good. My legs start shaking and I lift my torso up hugging him tightly.
“God ma, you’re clenchin’ around me so perfectly, you’re so perfect baby.” He says as I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. When it finally releases I arch my back and he holds me tight against him as my body trembles.
“Shh I gotcha ma.” He says as I whimper into his shoulder from the intense orgasm.
When I finally come down he’s laying next to me with his arm draped over my waist. “You really are perfect pretty girl.” He says quietly. All I could think about in the moment was how I just fucked my best friend.
“You really think I’m perfect?” I ask quietly turning to face him.
“Look at you! You’re perfect, your body, your face, your personality…I just can’t get enough of you…I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”
My eyes go wide and I smile a little bit. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time Chris…and tonight was perfect…”
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I don’t really like this one, but hopefully you do 🤷‍♀️
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megismyname · 1 day ago
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I agree with the last Anon they are just friends, they are both in relationships and are both happy, you need to get over it, Lukola is never going to happen, you say you support Luke and Nic, but this is not supporting them as your not supporting their relationships and you call yourself a fan you should be happy for them
Well lookie here another virgin who wouldn’t know a relationship if it touched them on the arm - which for the record no one ever has.
Have you talked to either Luke or Nic personally? Because I haven’t heard either one say they’re “in relationships.” I’ve only heard fans who seem to have a rage boner towards the other claim relationships.
Those who think “Luke would never be attracted to Nic” claim he’s in a relationship. Those who hate Luke for no reason claim she’s in a relationship. It’s honestly disgusting.
That leads me to your comment about their happiness and I can assure you their happiness does not stem from “other serious relationships” - be for real my friend.
You’re so brave coming on here and telling me I need to “get over it” but until the day losers like you come off Anon - I’ll stay under it.
Guess what I can do whatever the fuck I want because I’m an adult with a fully functioning brain and until you have one of those you may want to shhhhh. 🤫
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devil-in-hiding · 2 days ago
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I feel like Gaz is that type of boyfriend that always gets included on girls nights and gossip rounds, yk? He’s not even just there to listen, he’s bringing his own tea. Tells your friends to break up with their boyfriends because they suck ass, bitches about some stupid new recruits, tells you all about Ghost and Soap fucking—you get it.
He’s got those dramatic facial expressions too. Gasping and scoffing whenever your friends go on about their men being shitty again. Says stuff like "period." and "girl…" because he’s just sexy like that.
Like I’m so serious, that man is your best friend. Total gossip queen. He would perk up like a puppy if you got home and went "Girl, you would not believe-…"
Loves going shopping with you and the girls too because he gets to call everyone beautiful and pick outfits for you to wear :3 and later on you’ll switch and he’s the one doing a little runway show for the gang. AGH I love himmm
Feel like Soap would be the same tho
You’re so right anon
I need to bitch to both of them right now :(
Johnny would walk in with popcorn like “nae go back, i missed what ye said she said”
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euniexenoblade · 2 days ago
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I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it
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"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."
I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.
As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.
The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.
"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"
The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.
"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"
This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.
"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"
And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.
"where exclusivity is agreed upon"
I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.
"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"
Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.
Also the tags
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The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.
"I cheated cuz waaa"
I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.
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nadvs · 2 hours ago
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the act of unravelling (part two)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
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summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
< prev
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Rafe stands and looks down at the body, his fists clenched tightly. Reality is setting in now. He could go to prison. His future could be ruined.
He’s perpetually at the mercy of his impulsivity, thinking only of the minute he’s living in, burdened with the consequences later. But still, even with his head a little clearer, he doesn’t regret this.
Ripping away the life of a man who wronged him was a thrill. He spends every day feeling like he’s losing and the power he had in his hands tonight felt so fucking good. He won for once.
You feel heavy as you push yourself up off the floor. You wish you could curl up in your bathtub under hot, gushing water, washing away everything that happened tonight.
The corpse is harder to look at with every second that passes. You glance up at Rafe, blood splattered on his face as he stares down at what he’d done, at what you’d done, chillingly unfazed.
“We can’t leave anything that’ll point back to me,” he mumbles, his voice low over the fireworks still crackling outside.
“Or me,” you have to remind him tensely.
His eyes land on yours. He’s always only looking out for himself. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have to worry about someone else.
“I’m serious,” you urge. Your survival instinct rushes through you for the second time tonight. You refuse to let Rafe throw you to the wolves. “I saved your life. You owe me. I won’t take the fall for this.”
“Well, neither will I,” he snaps.
“You shot him.”
“I could say you did,” Rafe replies. “And it’d be your word against mine. What then?”
You scoff, in disbelief of his selfishness.
“I saved your life,” you repeat. “Does that mean nothing to you?”
Rafe swallows hard. He’s not sure many people would do what you did for him tonight. They’d watch. They’d let him die. The possibility that you might feel something for him makes his chest twist with an unfamiliar warmth.
“We’ll look out for each other, alright?” he relents, letting his guard down for a moment. “Let’s just clean this up.”
Your phone buzzes in your pocket again. You pull it out, seeing Pope’s name. Twelve missed calls.
You hope your friends don’t get so worried that they come up here, ignoring the Off Limits sign Porter had put up across the stairs. But they don’t know where you went. You’re almost certain.
“My friends keep calling me,” you whisper.
Rafe’s jaw tightens. His friends aren’t worrying about him.
“You can’t answer them,” he snaps.
“I know.” You let out a shaky sigh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. “We have to be fast. What do we do? Do we bury him?”
Rafe takes a beat to think.
“We dump him in the ocean,” he finally says. “We go to the marina and drive my boat out far enough where nobody will find him.”
“How do we move him so nobody sees? We can’t go through the house. We might run into someone.”
Rafe looks to the glass door on the other end of the room, the balcony offering a view of the inky night sky.
“There,” he says. “We’ll push him off and put him in the back of my truck.”
You consider it. Of the limited options you have, it seems like the only one worth trying.
“Okay. We have to clean the blood off the floor,” you say. “And everything we touch needs to be wiped. Maybe there’s something with bleach in it around here?”
For the first time since you entered this room, you feel hope. There’s a chance, a real chance, you could get away with this. You look back at the desk Rafe ransacked.
“Pick that stuff up,” you say. Frustration rolls through him. He never liked being bossed around. “I’ll try to find something to clean with.”
“Don’t let anyone see you,” Rafe mutters.
“How stupid do you think I am?” you huff before you turn towards the door.
You tiptoe through the second story, peeking into a bathroom cupboard. When you find a spray bottle that reads Cleaner and Bleach on the packaging, you grab it and head back to the room.
You and Rafe move quickly and quietly, using clothes you found in the closet to wipe everything with bleach. After a loud, consonant cracking of fireworks that you assume is the grand finale, the show ends. And you know people are on their way back to the house.
The neighbor’s private beach can’t be that far away. You have a minute. Maybe two.
You’re glad Rafe thinks to find the shell of the bullet. He puts it in his pocket. You spray the bleach over the floor again, cleaning every drop of blood you can see.
“Tuck this stuff under his shirt,” you say breathlessly, handing Rafe the bottle and the blood-soaked clothes.
You can’t do it. You know you’ll need to touch him when you move him, but you’d rather limit the contact you have with his body. Even dead, when he can’t hurt you, touching him is terrifying.
You pick the gun up off the floor, then open the balcony, relieved you can’t hear any voices yet. You peer over the edge to see the sandy ground. The balcony overlooks the side of the house, dark and secluded.
Rafe grunts as he drags the corpse out onto the balcony. You have to muster up every bit of strength you have as you help heave Porter’s body over the railing. He falls with a hard thud, facedown in the sand.
You have to jump the balcony. You can’t risk going downstairs. Rafe is wide-eyed as you hitch your leg over the railing, looking down with shaky breaths.
“Wait,” he whispers. “Let me go first. If you break something, we’re fucked.”
He shifts down as low as he can before letting his feet hang over the edge. He lets go, dropping hard, his ankles pinching with pain from the impact.
“Okay,” he says. “Go.”
You feel a splinter dig into your palm as you clutch onto the wooden railing with one hand while the other holds the gun. You make the split-second decision to keep the balcony door open to air out the smell of bleach.
You hope you cleaned away every drop of blood in the room. There’s no going back to it now.
You sink, hanging as low as you can, looking over your shoulder before you drop. Rafe’s arms wrap around you as your feet hit the ground, his chest hard against your back, breaking your fall.
“If someone comes,” he whispers in your ear, “run.”
Waiting for him to get his truck is torture. The humid night air presses against your face and you can’t bear to look down at the body on the ground.
Rafe returns and you move quickly, straining as you carry the body over the uneven terrain, the soles of your shoes slipping on the sand.
Once the body is in the trunk and Rafe unfolds the cover, blanketing the cab and concealing the evidence, you feel a shred less frightened.
You glance back into the darkness just in case. A glow of a phone screen is in the sand. Rafe is already behind the wheel, demanding that you get in, his voice carrying through the open rear window.
You feel for your phone. It’s still in your pocket.
“Do you have your phone?” you whisper.
He responds after a moment, “Yes. Get in.”
“I think his phone fell on the ground when we were carrying him,” you say. “We should–”
Faint laughs in the distance interrupt you. There’s no time to run back and get the phone without being seen.
“Get the hell in,” Rafe mutters angrily.
You obey, swinging open the door, barely closing it in time as Rafe peels away. Your muscles prick from the weight you’d just carried as you drive past the partygoers coming back from watching fireworks.
“Holy shit,” Rafe chuckles, near elated. “We did it.”
You stare ahead, your head foggy.
This will haunt you for the rest of your life. The thought forces a torrent of dread through you worse than you’ve ever felt before.
What if you’d run out of the room when Rafe and Porter came in? What if you’d left Rafe to deal with the body on his own?
What if you’d never gone upstairs?
You’re destined to agonize over the what if’s of tonight forever.
You gaze down at the gun in your lap and hold your hands out in front of you, skin stinging from the bleach. You’d wiped away the blood, but you think you’ll always see it on your hands.
You figure out that it’s a good thing you left Porter’s phone. If he was sharing his location, you’re sure the police could track where it was last before you threw it into the sea with him. They’d know exactly where to look for his body.
“We should shut off our phones,” you realize. “I think they can track GPS history from cell towers.”
Rafe digs into his pocket, glancing down to watch the screen go black.
“How’d you think of that?” he mumbles with a laugh. “Is this not your first time doing this, Pogue?”
“Nothing about this is funny,” you reply.
“Relax,” he says. “We got away with it.”
“You can’t be so sure,” you say. “One fingerprint in that room and…”
You can’t think about it.
In the paroxysm of emotions you’re already feeling, guilt digs a hole into your stomach when you see Pope’s most recent text before you power off your phone.
Answer the phone. We’re worried.
·········
The clock on Rafe’s dashboard reads 10:44 when you reach the marina. He parks right by the main dock. The place seems quiet, the water crowded with seemingly unoccupied boats.
“I’ll take a walk around to make sure we’re alone,” he says, pulling his key out of the ignition.
The car door slams shut and you’re left with a gun in your lap, a body in the trunk, and your tormenting thoughts.
Maybe you missed something back in that room.
You picture Porter’s phone lighting up in the sand. His last text to you said to come upstairs. When the cops inevitably start searching for answers, you’ll be questioned.
A minute later, Rafe swings open your door, pulling you out of your daze. You meet his glare, his hair tousled and sweaty.
“We’re good,” he says. “Move.”
Having to haul the body over the dock past darkened, quiet boats is unnerving. Ater you leave it at the back of Rafe’s boat, you stand behind him at the helm.
Your arms are crossed and the gun is tucked by your elbow, because if you learned anything tonight, it’s that you can’t trust anyone.
Rafe’s still a man. A man who takes what he wants when he wants it. A man who killed someone because he didn’t obey him. He could hurt you if he wanted to. It’s best not to be alone with him.
“I should wait in the car,” you mumble. Rafe shakes his head in frustration, driving the boat forward. The boat’s motor hums as you rock with its movements.
“No,” he mutters condescendingly. It reminds you of why underneath the stubborn pull you’ve always felt towards him, you’ve also harbored a quiet fear. Rafe is violent. Possibly enough to hurt you the same way Porter did.
You feel for the gun again. If two men have to die tonight, so be it. The fact that your mind went there chills you.
Rafe looks over at you, lips twisting in annoyance.
“Don’t feel bad for that asshole,” he mutters. “He asked for it.”
It’s the worst possible thing he could’ve said. Your throat is raw with the threat of tears. Asked for it. Would he say the same about what happened to you?
“I don’t regret it,” you tell him, sure that he’s assuming that that’s why you’re so tense. “I’m just worried we missed something.”
“If we did, nothin’ we can do about it now,” he says. You look ahead at the dark sea, moonlight shining over the water’s ripples.
“We need to figure our story out,” you say. “How’d you end up upstairs? Did anyone see you?”
“I stopped him while everyone was going outside to watch the show,” he recalls. “Told him to show me where he was keeping his coke because I heard he was selling again. It was loud. I don’t think anyone heard, but maybe someone saw. I don’t know.”
“Why do you sell?” you ask, face pinched in confusion. “Why did you even care that he was selling, too? You don't have enough money already?”
“I gotta keep your tips coming, don’t I?” he says smugly. You scoff, jarred by his blasé attitude, despising his cold arrogance.
He notices the angry scowl on your face. He’s convinced he’ll never break through the hatred you have for him.
“I want to make my own money. That’s why,” he admits. It’s half the truth, but it’s good enough.
It’s surprising to hear that Rafe, a man you thought coasted on the wealth he was born into, possesses a work ethic. Even though he uses it to deal drugs.
“Did anyone see you go upstairs?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” you say.
“Why were you there?”
You chew on your lip, the truth sitting on your chest like a ton of bricks. There’s no point in telling him. He thinks your motive was the same as his. Money. And you’ll let him believe it.
Besides, talking about it now, merely an hour afterwards, will only make you cry again and your head is pounding from how much you’ve already wept tonight. How could you possibly say it out loud?
“To buy pot. Then I smoked too much and passed out.” You keep talking before he can ask anything else. “Are we far out enough?”
Rafe looks back to make sure the marina is out of sight before he kills the engine.
Pushing Porter’s body over the guardrail is harder than the other times you’d carried him tonight. The water is rocking the boat so much now that you’re far into the ocean. Your breath is strained as you heave him over the metal, his body hitting the water with a loud splash under the bright moon.
Rafe pulls out the bullet shell in his pocket and tosses it in the water. You know you have to throw the gun in, too. It’s hard to. But you do it.
Rafe looks over the edge now that everything is sinking to the bottom, his forearm brushing against yours. He notices how quickly you jerk away, refusing to let him touch you. The pull he feels towards you is obviously one-sided. Your eyes flit away when you look at him.
“You have blood on your face,” you tell him soberly. His temper flares, feeling stupid for thinking a girl could feel anything but afraid of him after he shot someone right in front of her. Even though she was the one who told him to do it.
You might have a deadly thirst for revenge in common, but that’s where the similarities end. He stalks past you to wash himself off in the bathroom below the deck.
You let out a shaky breath. The unexpected contact with Rafe startled you. After tonight, you’re sure you’ll always be scared to be around men you don’t know all that well. Even the ones that seem decent are just lions in sheep’s clothing. The monster that proved that to you is below the ocean’s surface now.
You look into the murky water, and despite the fear and the anxiety and dread weighing on your heart, you’re glad that this is how it ended. Porter paid the ultimate price for what he did to you. He doesn’t deserve to live, to smile, to feel anything ever again.
·········
You and Rafe sit behind the hull, the boat swaying with the tide. You start to piece together an alibi and decide to admit you were upstairs together. If even one person says they saw either one of you go up there, you won’t be caught in a lie.
As you talk, Rafe can’t take his eyes off of you. You’re clearly scared, but trying to stay level-headed. He doesn’t get how you do it. He’s always been bad at keeping his mind steady. He never had a reason to even try.
“So, I went up first after he texted me to come buy from him,” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t shake. “I got high and passed out. Then you came up with him to find his stash. We’re obviously going to have to come clean about the drugs.”
“What do you mean obviously?”
“You’re going to be a suspect the second the police start talking to people,” you tell him. “Everyone knows you had an issue with him. And why. You can’t lie about the coke. And they’ll have evidence that I was buying weed from him. We have to be honest about it. They’ll find out anyway.”
Rafe sighs, knowing you’re right.
You hug yourself as a cool breeze carries over the water. The weakness in your gaze reminds Rafe of the way you’d cried on the floor earlier tonight. Before all this, he only ever saw you as strong-willed and sharp-tongued.
Even though calming a man like Rafe down when he’s angry sounds like it’d be impossible, you figure it’s the only direction your alibi can go.
“We’ll say I talked you down and…” You shake your head. “It doesn’t make sense that we’d stay up there. I think we say we left him in his room and sat on the beach alone in front of the house to watch the fireworks from there.”
You worry it’s not enough. You’re certain that no one who knows either one of you would buy that you voluntarily spent time together.
“Maybe the cops would believe we hung out,” you mumble, “but nobody else would.”
Rafe stills. His friends like to give him crap about how much time he spends talking to you when he supposedly hates Pogues. If he told them he was with you all night, they’d say they saw it coming.
“They could,” he says after a few seconds of silence.
“My friends would never believe it,” you scoff. He purses his lips, pissed off at your tone, at the clear implication that you talk shit about him with your friends.
“It’s our only option,” he mutters sharply.
“You’re right,” you give in. “Then what? We went home before people got back? I guess that way if anyone saw us leave together, we have it covered.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “That’s the story.”
“Okay. It’s not great, but it’s the best we can do.” You check your phone for the time, only to remember it’s turned off. “Can you drive me home now? I’ll say my phone died. You should do the same when people ask where you’ve been.”
Rafe doesn’t admit to you that nobody was checking up on him, that nobody ever does. He only stands up to drive back to the dock.
·········
Your first priority when you get home is to text your friends, guilt consuming you now that it’s been over two hours since you last saw them and they have no idea what happened to you.
You turn on your phone to see a string of missed calls and texts from the guys. You open the group-chat and type: I’m so sorry. I’m okay. Got too high and lost track of time. Home now.
They video call you to be sure that you really made it home safe, drunkenly rambling on about how they assumed you went to see the fireworks early, leaving them to search the neighbor’s beach for you.
As you listen to them talk over each other on the phone, it’s the first time you see your reflection since you left the house, when you were oblivious to the fact that the impending hours would change you forever.
You can see it in your eyes that you’re not the same. You can only hope that they don’t catch on.
·········
It’s been three days. You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve hardly been eating. And no matter how many times you tell yourself there’s no use in thinking about how different the night could have turned out, it doesn’t stop your head from spinning into hypotheticals.
All you told your friends was that you were with a boy and that they didn’t need to know any more. Because they all see you as a sister, they were happy to be spared the details.
If only they knew. A few nights ago, you promised them you wouldn’t talk about Rafe ever again. You never would’ve thought the reason would be because you’d committed a crime together.
You’re back at work. Smiling and chatting and serving drinks and acting like everything is fine is harder than you expected.
The thought of seeing Rafe again is oddly comforting. No matter how twisted it is, you have a bond now, held together by secrecy and shared trauma. He’s the closest to knowing what you’re going through.
Even though you were afraid of him on the boat, when he dropped you off, he waited until you got into the house before he drove off. Maybe he sees you as someone he needs to protect, even if it is for his own selfish reasons.
No matter how unhinged he is, having someone like him in your corner is comforting after what you’d suffered through.
You spot Rafe sitting alone at the near empty club bar on your way out and your heart settles, but when you catch a glimpse of the flatscreen mounted on the wall a moment later, it drops. You knew it was inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any better.
Rafe swallows bitter whiskey, gazing up at the tv. Under a photo of Porter reads MISSING as his parents speak to the press. What if he went missing? Who’d care? What would his dad say – at least it wasn’t Sarah?
He looks down at the bartop. The thrill of what he did has faded. It’s not a surprise. His life is nothing but a cycle of short-lived highs.
When he sees the look on Porter’s parents’ faces on the tv, jealousy and loneliness screw a hole into his heart. He knows it’s fucked up to envy the man he killed. He doesn’t care.
His eyes drift over the bar to see you standing on the other end. You’re in shock as you stare up at the broadcast, looking guilty as hell. He glares at you until you finally meet his eyes.
Rafe curtly gestures to you to sit next to him. Even though he looks mad, you’re relieved to close the distance between you.
“You’re being obvious,” he says quietly once you sit next to him, an edge to his tone.
You look back to see only a few other people sitting in the restaurant area behind you, far from earshot. You won’t be heard, but you both know you have to speak vaguely just in case.
“Someone I know is missing,” you reply. “It’s normal to be worried about that.”
“What do you know about normal?” he scoffs.
You lock eyes, sure that you’re both replaying the night in your minds, sure that you’re both far from sane after what you did. His gaze is cold, a reflection of how angry he is that you’re not handling what happened as well as he is.
“Great talking to you,” you snip sarcastically, shifting to stand up.
“Wait,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks at you again, this time with a bit of the hardness in his eyes gone. “We need to talk.”
(to be continued)
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51 notes · View notes
hyperbali · 3 days ago
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Talking about The Big Spoiler again because it's me, of course I'm talking about it again
Obviously Fuck The Canon, I Have A Tablet, so Varric is going to survive the stabbing
But also I cannot in good conscience ever pursue a redemption ending for Solas if Varric’s death is the canon
Specifically because regardless of whether or not it was an accident
He proceeds to spend the next several months desecrating his friend's memory by manipulating someone else into hallucinating him through the use of blood magic
That's bad enough on its own, but there is no way that fucking with someone's mind for that long doesn't do serious and permanent damage to them
It is such a disservice to both of their characters for Varric to not only die at Solas' hand, but then be used by him like that
52 notes · View notes
kckt88 · 7 hours ago
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Scorched Hearts XVII
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Summary:
'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'
After spending sometime with her brothers, Valaena makes a discovery.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Revelations, Brother/ SIster Teasing, Aegon Being A Menace, Mild Violence, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, P in V.
AEMOND x O.C Niece
Word Count: 6000
A.N - Bit of a fluffy/cheeky one.
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole
Jace and Luke strode purposefully through the corridors, their voices low but heated as they bickered.
“I went last time,” Jace argued, his dark brows furrowing. “It’s your turn to ask.”
Luke scoffed. “No, it was me, and I got the door slammed right  in my face.”
“No. That was me,” Jace countered sharply. “And, I also got called a bastard.”
“Well, so did I,” Luke snapped back.
Jace’s pace quickened as he turned to face his younger brother.
“What if we both go this time? Aemond can’t stop us both. Valaena is our sister. We’ll demand to see her. He can’t just keep her locked away forever.”
Luke tilted his head, considering. “That’s not a bad idea. Safety in numbers and all that-”
The two brothers quickly nodded in agreement as they neared the door that would lead them to Valaena and Aemond’s chambers.
However, their path was blocked by Lirri and Arro, who were sat nearby, guarding the entrance, as they played some sort of card game with each other.
Arro glanced up, his stoic face giving nothing away. “I wouldn’t go in there, if I were you.”
Jace frowned. “Why not?”
Lirri, smiled as she, leaned forward. “My lady and my lord are very busy.”
Luke blinked, tilting his head in slight confusion. “Busy doing what?”
Before Lirri could answer, a muffled yet unmistakable sound of pleasure came from behind the heavy oak doors.
Both boys froze in place as the noise repeated, louder this time.
Jace groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re at it again?”
Luke cringed. “How is that even normal?”
Lirri, clearly amused, grinned as she answered. “My lord has a ravenous appetite for my lady. He is very virile man-”
Jace grimaced. “I did not want to know that.”
Luke shook his head quickly. “Neither did I.”
Before either could continue, Aegon strolled into the hallway, a mischievous smirk plastered across his face.
He spotted Lirri, and his grin widened when she blushed and smiled back.
“What are you all standing around here for?” Aegon drawled, hands on his hips.
Jace cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “We were just—”
Another sound of pleasure, unmistakable and unabashed, spilled into the hallway.
Aegon burst into laughter. “So, my brother’s back to getting his end away, and you’re all standing here listening. You dirty little buggers.”
“Hey!” Luke protested. “That’s not true. We were coming to see if Valaena wanted to go dragon riding.”
Aegon arched an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “From the sounds of it, she’s already riding the dragon.”
Jace groaned in disgust. “You are so disgusting-”
“Me?” Aegon laughed. “You’re the ones standing here listening to your sister being fucked into the mattress.”
Luke turned the tables quickly. “And what are you doing here, then?”
Aegon’s smirk faltered for a moment as his gaze darted to Lirri and then to Arro.
“No reason. I-I was just-out for a walk.”
Luke let out a heavy sigh, clearly done with the entire situation. “Maybe we should come back later.”
Arro nodded slightly. “Might be best to give it an hour or two. Just to be certain.”
Jace blinked at him, incredulous. “Are you actually being serious?”
Lirri nodded cheerfully. “In Qarth, sometimes my lord would take my lady many times, until he very tired and needed many hours sleep-”
Luke stared at her in disbelief. “So they’ve always been like this?”
Lirri’s smile widened. “Oh, yes. My lord is not shy about the love he gives my lady.”
Jace tugged on Luke’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go. We’ll wait until later.”
“You coming, Aegon?” Luke asked.
Aegon muttered under his breath, “I would have been if you weren’t here.” Then, louder, he said, “No. I’ll finish my walk.”
As Jace and Luke trudged off, grumbling to themselves, Aegon exhaled in relief, glancing at Lirri.
“Thank the fucking gods. I thought they’d never leave.”
Lirri chuckled. “They’re nice boys.”
Aegon’s brow furrowed in mock offense. “And what about me?”
Lirri’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re a very naughty boy.”
Aegon seized her waist, pulling her close. “Maybe you should punish me then.”
Lirri glanced at Arro, who gave a small nod of approval.
Aegon’s grin grew wicked. “Arro may join us, if he wishes. As you know, I enjoy it when he does.”
Arro inclined his head. “As you wish my Prince-”
Without another word, the three slipped away toward Lirri’s chambers, leaving the hall outside Aemond and Valaena’s chambers blissfully quiet—save for the occasional muffled sound of passion behind closed doors.
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Valaena watched Aemond for a moment, her fingers tracing the line of his cheekbone as his silver hair spilled across the pillow.
His serene expression as he slept, so free of the tension he recently carried, made her heart swell.
Leaning down, she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, brushing away a stray strand of hair.
He didn’t stir, merely exhaling a soft sigh of contentment.
With a small smile, Valaena turned to the bedside table where the moontea sat.
The smell made her nose wrinkle, but she lifted the cup, holding her breath as she downed the liquid in one gulp.
She grimaced, sticking out her tongue slightly as she muttered under her breath, “So gross.”
Setting the cup aside, she walked to the door, opening it just enough to poke her head out.
“Lirri?” she called softly.
No answer.
Valaena frowned. "Odd," she murmured before closing the door quietly.
Moving quickly but silently, she took a warm, damp rag from the washbasin and cleaned herself, ridding her skin of the evidence of her many vigorous encounters with Aemond.
Her insatiable husband was determined to make up for the weeks he had deprived them both due to his fears, and he had been unrestrained when they had returned to the Red Keep.
He took her many times with passion and ferocity in equal measure, his cock stirring as soon as he’d spilled his seed after every encounter, until he’d passed out from exhaustion.
Once refreshed, Valaena dressed herself in a comfortable gown and headed toward the nursery.
Rhaegar, Elaena, and Daenys were spending the day with Alicent, leaving only Aemon too check on.
She entered the room to find her youngest child still fast asleep, his tiny hand resting on the dragon egg nestled in his cradle.
This egg, gleaming with faint golden scales and red streaks, had been gifted from Syrax, her mother’s dragon.
It was a hopeful token, though it weighed heavily on her heart.
Neither her nor Aemond’s eggs had hatched in their youth, and they both knew the sting of disappointment as they were left on the ground as the others took to the skies.
Valaena prayed silently that Aemon would not have to endure the same fate, but upon closer inspection it would seem as though he would not, as she noticed a faint crack in the shell.
She let her hand hover over the shell, and she smiled as could feel the warmth and the unmistakable presence of life.
Leaning down, Valaena placed a soft kiss on his silver hair. “Dream sweetly, my little dragon, for you will also soar amongst the clouds alongside your brother and sisters-” she whispered.
Gently closing the door behind her, she turned to leave when a muffled scream caught her attention.
Her brows furrowed as the sound came from Lirri’s chambers.
Panic surged through her as she pushed the door open without hesitation.
The sight that greeted her made her freeze in the doorway.
Lirri sat in the centre of her bed, naked and flushed, her long hair dark falling in disarray around her shoulders.
“Oh, my gods-Lirri I’m so sorry I-AEGON?” shrieked Valaena.
“Good sister-” Aegon drawled, his grin widening as he folded both arms behind his head.
“W-What are you doing?” exclaimed Valaena.
“Errr-I think it’s fairly obvious what we were doing” said Aegon, moving his hips slightly, making Lirri gasp at the movement.
Arro quickly removed his hand from Aegon’s chest and scrambled out of the bed; his face red as he fumbled for his breeches.
“M-My l-lady-I-I apologise-” stuttered Arro.
Valaena’s violet eyes darted between the three, her voice faltering. “The three of you?”
Lirri covered her face with her hands, mortified, while Arro stood awkwardly, half-dressed, still stammering. “My—my lady, I-I-”
“How long has this been going on?” asked Valaena.
Aegon shrugged nonchalantly. “Couple of months, maybe?”
Valaena placed a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow. “And you join in with them?” she asked Arro pointedly.
The guard blushed extended to the tips of his ears. “Yes, my lady. Sometimes I join in and other times, I just watch-”
“Right, and I take it Lirri is the woman you was telling me about?”
Aegon nods “Yes, she is-important to me”
For a moment, there was silence, and then Valaena let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Well, I guess I’ll leave the three of you to it then.”
Lirri slid off Aegon’s lap, clutching the sheet around her as she rushed after Valaena.
“Wait, my lady, please let me explain!”
Valaena turned, smiling gently. “You don’t have to, I will admit that I’m a little shocked, but it’s fine”
Lirri hesitated. “You’re-you’re all right with this?”
“As long as you’re happy and safe, that’s all that matters,” Valaena replied sincerely.
Relief washed over Lirri’s face as she nodded. “I am very happy, my lady and safe-”
“I’m glad,” Valaena said warmly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
From the bed, Aegon piped up, “You’re not going to tell my mother, are you?”
Valaena snorted, rolling her eyes. “Gods, no.”
Aegon let out a sigh of relief, lounging back with his arms behind his head again.
As Valaena reached the door, she paused, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Out of curiosity-” she began, turning to Lirri. “-Is Aegon, you know-good?”
Lirri’s face turned scarlet as she glanced at Aegon, then back to Valaena. “Very good, my lady.”
Valaena burst into laughter, waving a dismissive hand. “You and Arro are excused from your duties for the day. Enjoy yourselves, all three of you-”
She left the room giggling, her laughter echoing down the hall as the door clicked shut behind her.
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The gentle sound of Aemon’s cries carried down the hall, immediately drawing Valaena’s attention.
She quickened her pace finding her son fussing in his cradle, his tiny hand still resting on the dragon egg.
Scooping him up, she held him close, murmuring soft reassurances as his cries settled into quiet whimpers.
Cradling Aemon against her chest, she made her way back to her chambers.
Pushing open the door, she found Aemond now awake, sitting in bed with his legs draped over the side, rubbing his face while wincing slightly as his fingers brushed too close to his left eye socket.
The sapphire embedded there glinted in the morning light, a stark contrast to his pale complexion.
“Are you ok?” Valaena asked, concern evident in her voice as she shifted Aemon to rest against her shoulder.
Aemond sighed, nodding faintly. “The sapphire, it’s irritating my eye socket a little today. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Valaena frowned and quickly moved toward the vanity, pulling out a soft cloth and a small jar of salve.
She also grabbed a bowl of clean water before turning back to Aemond.
“Here,” Aemond said, extending his arms toward her. “Let me take him.”
Valaena hesitated but then handed Aemon to his father.
Aemond took his son gently, pressing him against his bare chest.
Aemon immediately calmed, nestling into the warmth of his father’s skin, his tiny fist resting against Aemond’s collarbone.
“Lie back,” Valaena instructed softly.
Aemond reclined against the pillows as she approached with the damp cloth.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she dipped the cloth into the cool water and began to carefully dab around the edges of his scar and the sapphire.
Aemond hissed softly at first, but her touch was so gentle that the discomfort soon eased.
“How does it look?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.
“A little red,” Valaena admitted. “I don't think it’s nothing to worry about, though.”
Aemond nodded, his hand absently stroking Aemon’s fine silver hair as the baby rested quietly on his chest.
“He seems content,” Valaena observed with a soft smile. “I think he enjoys the sound of your heartbeat.”
Aemond’s expression softened as he gazed down at his son. “I’m glad my children can find comfort with me,” he said quietly.
“You’re a wonderful father, Aemond,” Valaena said firmly as she set the cloth aside and began applying the salve to the reddened edges of his eye socket and along the scar. “I know you worry about it sometimes, but you truly are.”
“It’s not like I had a great example of what a father should be,” he admitted, his tone tinged with the bitterness of memory.
Valaena paused, her gaze meeting his as she gently worked the salve into his skin.
“As much as I loved my grandsire, I also hated him for how he treated you, your brothers, and your sister. No child asks to be brought into the world—it was his duty to guide you, to love you. And he failed you all.”
“I got used to it,” Aemond said quietly, though there was a flicker of pain in his voice.
“I once asked him why he loved my mother the most,” Valaena said, her voice soft but contemplative. “Even as a child, it was obvious how he favoured her. He told me it was because of Aemma—the guilt he carried for her death. My mother was the last piece of Aemma he had left.”
Aemond reached out, taking her free hand in his. “In part, I understand his grief-especially after I almost lost you.”
Valaena paused, her thumb gently brushing over his knuckles. “But he still should have been there for all of you, not just one of you.”
Aemond nodded silently, his grip tightening on her hand. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked after a moment, his voice low but full of emotion.
Valaena smiled, leaning closer. “A lot, I hope.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and unguarded. “With every fibre of my being. I love you.”
She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. The moment was quiet, intimate, and full of unspoken promises.
And then Aemon let out a loud fart, his tiny face scrunching up as it turned a vivid shade of red.
Followed by a loud squelching sound.
Valaena pulled back with a startled laugh. “Well, I think someone’s cloth is soiled,” she said, as she lifted Aemon from his father’s chest.
Aemond leaned back against the pillows with a groan, folding his arms.
“Way to ruin the moment son,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose at the unmistakable smell.
Valaena laughed, bouncing Aemon gently in her arms as she laid him at the end of the bed.
“Don’t worry, my love. There will be plenty more moments,” she teased, flashing him a playful grin.
Aemond huffed but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at his lips.
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Valaena finished securing the fresh cloth around Aemon, who was now kicking his legs eagerly.
She leaned down, nuzzling his tiny tummy until he squealed with delight, his little hands reaching for her face.
Valaena grinned, her heart full as she placed soft kisses on Aemon’s face.
“You should know,” she said, glancing at Aemond, who had just finished getting dressed “Aemon’s dragon egg has cracked.”
Aemond’s single eye lit up with a rare, genuine smile. “It shouldn’t be too long before another hatchling joins us.”
“No,” Valaena agreed warmly. “-but speaking of hatchlings, we need to talk to Rhaegar about Sapphyre. He’s getting far too large to be staying in his chambers.”
Aemond sighed, folding his arms. “I know Rhaegar won’t like it, but perhaps it’s time for Sapphyre to be with Vhagar and Silverwing. He needs space to grow properly.”
Valaena carefully dressed Aemon in fresh clothes, smoothing the soft fabric over his tiny body. “I think Rhaegar fears that Sapphyre will be chained in the pit.”
Aemond’s jaw tightened. “I will not allow such a thing to happen. That place-it is not fit for dragons. Or any living creature, for that matter.”
Valaena nodded, meeting his determined gaze. “As you know, I hate that place too.”
Aemond stepped closer, his voice low but firm. “I swear to you, the hatchlings will never see chains. Not while I have breath in my body.”
Valaena’s expression softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “I believe you, my love.”
Aemon let out a loud gurgle, his legs kicking energetically again. Valaena laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Someone’s eager to be on the move”
Aemond chuckled as he reached out and took Aemon into his arms, cradling him close. “How about I take this little one out flying with Vhagar?”
Valaena nodded, smoothing the baby’s hair. “Sure, I think he’d enjoy that. Oh—but before you go, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Aemond furrowed his brow. “What is it?”
She hesitated, then said with a wry smile, “I walked in on Lirri and Arro earlier-but they weren’t alone.”
Aemond’s expression shifted to confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Aegon was with them,” she said bluntly. “Seems the three of them are-a thing.”
Aemond blinked, then pursed his lips. “A thing, as in—”
Valaena nodded, cutting him off. “-Laying with each other. Yes”
Aemond exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “So that’s who he was talking about the other day-”
Valaena raised a brow. “You knew?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, adjusting Aemon in his arms. “I knew he was involved in some kind of dalliance with a woman and a man. But I didn’t know it was Lirri and Arro.”
“Should we be worried?” Valaena asked, leaning against the edge of the bed.
“When it comes to Aegon, I’m always worried,” Aemond muttered. “I suppose the only thing we can do is keep an eye on it. And for the Seven’s sake, make sure Lirri drinks moon tea. I’ve accepted that my brother and sister have an understanding, but I won’t have Lirri birthing his child. He has enough bastards running around the streets of silk; he doesn’t need more.”
Valaena nodded. “I agree. But it’s not exactly ideal, especially if she wants a child with Arro.”
“That’s for them to sort out,” Aemond said firmly. “But I mean it, Valaena. I won’t have it.”
“I know,” she assured him, touching his arm again. “And I understand.” She smiled down at Aemon, who was squirming in his father’s hold. “Right—let’s get this little one ready. He’s clearly getting impatient and I said I’d help Aegon and Viserys with their high Valyrian-”
Aemond grinned, shifting Aemon to a more comfortable position. “Our little dragon. Is eager to get into the sky.”
Valaena laughed as Aemon gurgled in delight, his tiny fingers grasping at Aemond’s tunic. “He’s certainly determined-”
“Of course-”Aemond said with mock seriousness. “He’s my son, after all.”
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The library was quiet except for the soft murmur of Valaena’s voice as she spoke in High Valyrian, guiding her younger brothers, Aegon and Viserys, through a lesson.
Aegon leaned forward, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he attempted to mimic her pronunciation.
Viserys, meanwhile, sat cross-legged on the floor, doodling dragons in the corner of his parchment when he thought no one was looking.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Luke’s dark curly head popped through the gap. “Is it safe?” he asked cautiously, his eyes darting around the room.
Valaena laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Aemond has taken Aemon flying with Vhagar. You’re safe—for now.”
Luke’s face lit up. “Jace! She’s in here and finally free of Aemond!”
The door burst open as Luke came barrelling through, Jace trailing behind him with a less enthusiastic stride.
“Sister,” Jace greeted her with a grin, “It’s good to finally see you without your one-eyed—never mind,” he quickly corrected, catching the venomous glare Valaena shot his way.
Luke flopped into an armchair, his legs hanging over the armrest. “What are you doing?”
“Helping Aeg and Vis learn High Valyrian,” Valaena replied, gesturing to her brothers.
“Why didn’t Mother just ask Gerardys?” Jace asked, frowning. “He was the one who taught me.”
“Because he’s the Grand Maester,” Valaena said, rolling her eyes. “He has more important things to do. And if I recall, you didn’t actually finish learning the language of our forebears.”
Jace scoffed. “Just because Daemon taught you—”
“And Luke,” Valaena interrupted with a smirk. “You’re just lazy.”
Jace stuck his tongue out at her. “Am not!”
“Yes, you are,” Valaena shot back without missing a beat.
Jace sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. “Keligon lēda nūmāzma!” (Stop with mean).
Valaena exchanged a knowing look with Luke before sighing. “It’s actually Keligon issare nūmāzma, ao rōva mittys.” (Stop being mean, you big idiot).
Jace blinked. “Did you just call me a fool?”
“No,” Valaena said with a grin. “I called you a big idiot.”
Luke burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Sīr skorkydoso glaesā mandia?” (So, how are you sister).
Valaena smiled warmly. “Iksan sȳrī kirimvose.” (I am well, thank you)
“That’s not fair!” Jace grumbled, glaring at them.
“Well,” Valaena teased, “-If you had kept learning, you’d know what we were saying.”
Little Aegon, who had been following the exchange with wide violet eyes, giggled before chiming in. “Aōha sīr doru-borto rōva lēkia.” (Your so dumb, big brother)
Both Valaena and Luke burst into laughter as Jace glowered at his younger brother. “What did he just say?”
Viserys, still doodling, added helpfully, “Se ziry’s jiōraton quba ōghar.” (And he’s got bad hair).
That sent Valaena and Luke into another fit of laughter.
Jace scowled. “Ao aspo!” (You bitch),
“Oh, so you know what that means?” Valaena teased.
Jace crossed his arms. “I called you a bitch.”
“Yeah, I know,” Valaena replied with a smirk. “Duh-”
Aegon yawned, looking up at her. “Mandia, issi īlon tetan?” (Sister, are we finished?)
“Syt tubī kessa,” Valaena said gently. (For today, yes).
Viserys perked up. “Can we go play with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera now?”
“Of course, I’ll come with you-” Valaena said, standing and stretching. “I want to see Helaena anyway.”
Before the little ones scampered off, Jace slouched deeper into his chair, sulking. Valaena walked over and wrapped her arms around him from behind, ruffling his hair.
“Turn that frown upside down, little brother.”
“Pffft” muttered Jace still scowling.
Luke stood and stretched. “I think I’ll come with you with you as well”
Valaena nodded. “Are you coming, Jace, or are you going to keep throwing a tantrum like a little girl?”
Jace grumbled as he stood. “I don’t like it when you pick on me.”
“Now you know how Aemond felt when you used to do it to him,” Valaena said pointedly as they left the library.
“That wasn’t just me, you know!” Jace protested.
“Yes. I’m well aware of that,” Valaena said with a knowing smile.
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Later that night, Valaena had just finished tucking her children into bed and was on her way out of Rhaegar’s chambers when a figure rushed past her, sobbing.
She barely caught sight of Lirri’s tear-streaked face before the young woman disappeared into her chambers.
Alarmed, Valaena turned and followed, pushing the door open to find Lirri crumpled on her bed, her body shaking with quiet, wrenching sobs.
Valaena approached and sat down beside her, resting a comforting hand on her back.
“Lirri, what’s wrong?” she asked gently.
Lirri sat up, her breath hitching as she wiped her face with trembling hands.
“Aegon has ended our involvement,” she managed between sobs.
Valaena frowned. “How come?”
“He said he worries his mother will find out,” Lirri said, her voice breaking.
Valaena let out an incredulous scoff. “A pathetic excuse. Since when has Aegon cared about his mother’s approval? He certainly didn’t when he busied himself with the whores on the Street of Silk.”
Lirri sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I love Arro very much. He’s kind and gentle, but I—I—”
Valaena’s expression softened. “You love Aegon too,” she finished for her.
Lirri nodded, her face crumpling again. “Yes. Very much.”
Valaena sighed, squeezing Lirri’s hand. “It’s a rather unique situation, that’s for certain.”
Lirri hesitated, looking down. “Are you ashamed of me, my lady?”
“Never,” Valaena said firmly, taking Lirri’s hand in both of hers. “How could you even think such a thing?”
Lirri lowered her gaze. “Because I do not act as a woman should.”
“And who decides how a woman should act?” Valaena asked, her voice sharp with disdain. “A man? Please. Most days they don’t know their arse from their elbow.” She softened her tone. “All I ask is that you’re being careful.”
“Careful, my lady?” Lirri asked, frowning.
“The customs in Westeros are vastly different from those in Essos,” Valaena explained. “I know Aegon has some kind of understanding with Helaena but—”
“Yes,” Lirri said. “He loves her like a sister, not a wife.”
“That may be so, but she is still his wife in the eyes of gods and men,” Valaena said. “Having his child would dishonour her.”
Lirri stiffened. “He’s sired children on other women before.”
“Yes,” Valaena admitted. “But given how close you and I are, it wouldn’t be fair to Helaena to have her husband’s illegitimate child living in the Red Keep.”
Lirri���s face burned with shame. “Have no fear, my lady. Aegon does not spill his seed inside—”
“That’s something, at least,” Valaena muttered. “But what else did Aegon say to upset you so?”
Lirri hesitated, her voice trembling. “He told me he had fun but that it’s over. And then he became cruel and called me he called me a byka līve.”
Valaena’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing with fury. “Oh, Did he, now? We’ll see about that.”
Before Lirri could stop her, Valaena shot to her feet and stormed out of the room.
Ignoring Lirri’s frantic calls, she marched through the Red Keep, her anger bubbling hotter with every step.
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When she reached Aegon’s chambers, she didn’t knock. She shoved the door open, finding him mid-conversation with Aemond.
“You!” she shouted, pointing at Aegon.
Aegon turned, startled, but had no time to respond before Valaena barrelled toward him.
She knocked him to the ground and climbed on top of him, her fists flying as she struck any part of him, she could reach.
“You dare call her a little whore?” Valaena snarled, her words punctuated by punches. “The only whore around here is you—rude, selfish, arrogant, pig!”
Aegon giggled through the chaos, half-laughing, half-wheezing.
Aemond finally stepped in, wrapping his arms around Valaena and pulling her off. She struggled against him, still thrashing.
“No! You don’t understand—he needs to suffer!”
“What has he done?” Aemond asked, his voice calm but firm.
“He ended his involvement with Lirri and called her a little whore,” Valaena spat. “I won’t have it—I won’t!”
Aegon groaned as he climbed to his feet, rubbing his jaw. “I’m sorry, all right?”
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, you vicious little CUNT!” Valaena shouted, lunging again.
This time, she wrapped her hands around his throat, shaking him.
“Valaena” exclaimed Aemond, his arms folded across his chest, watching with mild amusement.
“You will go to her, you will apologize, and you will do whatever it takes to make her happy again. Do you hear me?”
Aegon gasped, clawing at her hands. “Aemond—help—get her off me!”
But Valaena released him on her own, shoving him away.
Aegon staggered back, coughing and rubbing his neck. “Gods,” he wheezed. “You really are strong.”
Valaena stepped forward again, ready to pounce, but Aemond quickly grabbed her. “Whoa there, my feisty dragon, that’s enough-”
Valaena struggled briefly against Aemond’s vice like grip, but then relented.
Aegon straightened, still catching his breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I-I just got scared.”
“Scared of what?” Valaena snapped. “We’re not going to say anything.”
“Y-You’re not?” Aegon asked, eyes wide.
“No,” Valaena said firmly. “I would never allow harm to come to Lirri—or Arro, for that matter.”
Aegon sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I love her. Gods, I love them both.”
“Then go make it right,” Valaena said, her voice low and dangerous. “Or so help me, I’ll cut you from cock to throat.”
Aemond smirked faintly. “Better do as she says, brother, she’s serious-”
Aegon nodded quickly and fled the room.
As the door slammed shut, Aemond turned to Valaena, his expression dark and intense.
He grabbed her and slammed her back against the wall, pressing his body against hers.
His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.
“Watching you kick the crap out of Aegon was-incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Valaena smiled, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. “Oh, really?”
“Made my blood hot,” Aemond admitted, leaning closer, before capturing her lips in a ferocious, searing kiss.
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Without breaking contact, Aemond gripped her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, pressing her against the cool stone wall.
Her hands flew to his shoulders, anchoring herself as her breath hitched, her body heating under his touch.
Aemond’s hand slid down her side, rough and eager, while his other braced her firmly against him.
His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin of her neck as she arched into him.
“Aemond,” Valaena breathed, her voice shaky yet teasing.
His eye, dark with desire, met hers as he rasped, “Hmm?”
“Are we really doing this in here?” she asked, her lips curling into a faint smile despite her breathlessness.
“Why not?” Aemond murmured, his voice gravelly and thick with longing.
His hand reached between them, fumbling with the ties of his breeches.
Valaena laughed softly, her cheeks flushed, as her fingers tangled in his long silver hair, tugging lightly. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he retorted, capturing her lips again with fervent intensity, his body pressed hard against hers, the tension between them crackling like wildfire.
Aemond’s hand then moved beneath her dress and with a sharp tug, he tore her smallclothes away, the fabric ripping with a sound that echoed in the room.
Valaena gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Oh gods, Aemond,” she breathed.
Aemond growled low in his throat, his hand moving to guide himself.
Without hesitation, he thrust into her in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. Both of them cried out, their voices mingling in the air between them.
Aemond wasn’t gentle. His movements were raw, driven by an all-consuming need.
Each thrust was powerful, stealing her breath and leaving her clinging to him.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips moving in time with his as they chased the same desperate rhythm.
“Valaena-fuck-” he murmured against her neck, his voice rough and low.
The sound of her name, spoken with such intensity, sent a shiver through her.
Her hands moved to his back, her fingers pressing hard.
“Aemond, don’t stop-oh gods” Moaned Valaena, her head falling back against the wall.
The tension coiling between them threatened to snap, the sheer intensity of their passion overwhelming.
He kissed her again, his lips bruising and fierce, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
“You’re mine,” growled Aemond against her mouth, his hips driving into hers with a possessive fervour that left no doubt of his claim.
“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking as her body tightened around him. “Always.”
“Tell me how it feels” demands Aemond.
“It’s good, so good-yes-yes, don’t stop-oh god. Please-please-”
Valaena praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her.
“Aemond, please, I’m close, so close” whimpers Valaena.
Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs her pearl in slow circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.
“I never want to leave this sweet cunt–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.
Valaena peaks with a loud, scream, her body shuddering.
Aemond then shifts his hold on Valaena, pulling her away from the wall without breaking their connection.
He carried her to Aegon’s bed, laying her down against the dishevelled sheets.
His hips snapping against hers with unrelenting force.
Valaena’s hands roamed over his back, her fingers clutching at his tunic as she arched into him.
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, her voice teasing as she gasped, “Fucking your wife in your brother’s bed, Aemond? Really?”
Aemond chuckled, his laughter low and rough. “Oh well,” he said, smirking as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, driving deeper. “I’ll send him new sheets as a gift.”
The humour in the moment only heightened the passion between them, but then Aemond’s eye caught on something sitting on the bedside table—a smooth, carved wooden object.
Aemond’s rhythm faltered for the briefest moment as he frowned. “What the hell is that?”
Valaena followed his gaze, her cheeks flushing faintly as she realized what he’d seen.
She quickly tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his face back down to hers. “Best not think about it,” she whispered, her voice sultry as she claimed his lips in a searing kiss.
Aemond resumed his relentless pace, his hips slamming into hers.
“Are you close my sweet?” asked Valaena, her teeth nibbling Aemond’s neck.
“Gods yes. I’m close. Fuck-Valaena” groaned Aemond.
“That’s it. Let go”
“J-Just a little longer-fuck I’m going to-” groans Aemond as he slams into Valaena before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.
After a few moments, Aemond gently moved Valaena’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes, his cock still twitching.
“I-I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?” asked Aemond.
“No. Gods, I-It was so wonderful” exclaimed Valaena, her body shaking slightly.
Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.
He takes a finger to Valaena’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise.
Aemond then leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.
He then lays down on the bed, pulling Valaena close to him.
After a few minutes, Aemond’s curiosity got the better of him as his eye returned to the offending wooden object. His brow furrowed in obvious confusion.
“Valaena, what is that thing?” he asked, his voice tinged with equal parts irritation and intrigue.
Valaena groaned, dropping her head back onto the pillow in exasperation. “Aemond, you really don’t want to know-”
Aemond then had an inclination of what it was and wrinkled his nose, glancing back at it with a grimace.
“Gods, my brother is such a deviant,” he muttered, his expression twisting between disgust and begrudging amusement.
Valaena burst into laughter, grabbing Aemond’s face and pulling him in for a kiss. “Forget about it, my love,” she murmured against his lips, her tone soothing but with a playful edge.
With a small sigh of resignation and a shake of his head, Aemond kissed her deeply. “Fine. But I’m having that thing burned later.”
Valaena bit her lip to stifle her laughter. “Good luck explaining that to your brother and Lirri-”
TBC.
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bellowsmith · 1 day ago
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List of things I'd find compelling in Tarn fics and have 0 time to write.
1. Religious mania, this mf has been high off his ass on every single substance and indoctrinated in a war cult from hell for 4 million years. Bro is having more visions than the goddamn oracle of Delphi at this rate. I think the implicit slow burn horror of realizing how fucked up he is either from his point of view or from another character's would be so goddamn interesting.
2. I just think the DJD being lost in deep space by themselves and forced to escape from some eldritch monstrosity that's beyond mortal comprehension a la annihilation style would be so interesting. Like how does a man who's already got a loose grip on reality with vocal weaponry gonna handle space cthulu?? How's a gaggle of space murder hobos gonna handle a prometheus/alien type of monster invasion? Bonus points for maximum body horror.
3. The implicit message that is Tarn being obsessed with classical music and perhaps able to play it, but never being able to write his own until something breaks him away from Megatron. Maybe he gets into new kinds of media, I feel like once he opens up his horizons he seems like a punk music scene kinda guy.
4. TAKE AWAY HIS T COGS AND DRUGS. I'm serious, put this man in critical condition and going through extreme withdrawals and see what happens when he is no longer capable of having his vices. Does he experience an epiphany? Does he realize how pathetic he is and do something about it? What's the DJD think about it? How does his personality change?
5. I just wanna watch him and starscream stab Megatron to death while holding hands. They've been through 4 million years of absolute shit while both thinking the other one is the "other woman". I just think they should be allowed to make each other worse and also hold hands about it. What better partner for a man seeking global domination than the most loyal bodyguard ever built?
That's the main gist of it for now. I have a master list of things that fascinate me about gods stupidest war criminal, but I don't feel like typing them all up right now. Perhaps I'll make a second post idk. Feel free to use these as you will, just let me read the damn thing.
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soundbord · 1 day ago
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"i've read stories about people doing it before. escaping hell, i mean. not like, fucking. well... that's unrelated. i think this will be over eventually. somehow. it's just not coming together yet." kody's affection is both a return to normalcy and a shock to the system, an affection they weren't sure they'd receive again "ko, i couldn't not save you." and he'd had to go back for her. those seconds where she stood there, scared and confused, gnawed at him. he tries to shake off the serious tone, leaning in close and whispering "besides, i think if you weren't here they'd have tossed me over the side of the mountain already."
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it was a good way to waste their time, get past the bullshit of the last 24 hours. kody and milo were good at bringing out each other's most immature side, finding fun in the simplest of things "i haven't figured out roofing yet, but i'm sure we can cook something up." they're nodding toward the doorway, hand ready to guide "we could also just hang around and crush anything that tries to disturb them." a shrug. killing tiny murderous fey had to be a moral grey area at worst.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Her hand gently reached out to touch his, trying her hardest not to touch him too aggressively where he was burned. It pained her to see him like that but she knew it hurt him more. "You have a point. Nothing here is making much sense. Maybe that's what makes it hell." It would be a neat answer, tying everything up nicely. They were all dead, in hell reliving their worst moments as they were being tortured by whatever power that might exist. Maybe Luke. Maybe some kind of devil...although, those two were pretty interchangeable. With a soft smile, she leaned in press her lips very lightly against his fingers, a spot that seemed to be free from burns. "Thank you for saving me." Kody knew deep down that there was no one else who would have cared about her that much, she was lucky to have him.
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‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎"Apartment buildings?? Genius!" It was almost too easy how her mind latched onto the idea of building anything for the tiny fairies that were sure to live in Monte Cristo. Why not? Considering the status of ghosts around here, why wouldn't there be fairies looking for a place to put down roots for their families. It made sense. "Pebbles is such a good idea, we have to make sure the walls are strong." The very thought of some fairy-sized wolf coming to blow their houses down made her update, they had to avoid that at all costs.
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mrsmnsn · 8 hours ago
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“It looks better on you anyway…”
summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….
*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*
(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)
“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin
“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.
“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.
The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.
“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you
“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you
“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you
“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.
By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.
“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.
“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”
You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.
“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.
“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.
“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter
“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”
Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.
“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.
“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.
“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.
“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”
You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.
“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”
You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.
“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.
“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!
You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”
“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.
“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”
You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.
“Maybe…”
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lalacliffthorne · 3 days ago
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Hi, I love your modern batboys roommate fic so much. I am obsessed with Azriel and readers relationship and the way you write them. It’s my comfort fic that I always fun back to.
I know you don’t take request and I totally respect that, but I would be really curious what it would look like when Az and reader get into a fight (either a smaller fight like a disagreement or even a bigger fight). I’m really curious what it would look like since they live together, how they would react to being in a fight. And I’m curious what Rhys and Cassian’s reactions would be as well. But I feel like depending on the fight it wouldn’t last too long since they seem to be good at communicating and they love each other so much.
Sorry about the ramble, I’ve thought about this way too much. Anyways love your writing and your fics 🫶🏻🫶🏻
omg hi 🥹 thank u so much!! this means the world to me 💕
oohhhhh okay?? this is a really good question?! I already know I'm gonna go overboard with this lol
so for me, I feel like disagreements are rare. because honestly, you rarely disagree on anything in the first place. like, you are so attuned to each other and in synch, barely anything can throw that.
which means, the few disagreements that might occur are usually based on concern or something similiar. like azriel thinking you need a break and you being too stubborn, and vice versa. but those are usually solved easily, with azriel simply literally dragging you away from work and you talking some sense into him. communication is something the both of you know is important, and while az might not seem like he's big on talking, he's actually one of the few people that can get through to you when you're caught in your head, with simple, steady words. vice versa, you are one of the only people that can get through to him.
which means, actual fights are even more rare. like, so rare that the first time it happens, it throws not just you, but everyone.
it would definitely be about something that actually runs deep, bc anything superficial you either talk out or never actually becomes a problem. it would have to be something that makes azriel shut down and you so frustrated that you do too. again, I think it would be most likely something that stems from concern about the other.
the fight itself would shake you to your core. not because azriel would get loud or anything, he would never, not even in a serious argument, not even if you lost your temper on him. but bc usually, you manage to talk through everything.
but this time, instead, azriel shuts down. barely says anything at all, whole body tense and eyes stormy. it wouldn't be to punish you or anything; the literal only reason he would shut down on you like this would be him getting caught in his own head until he's not able to see how desperate you are, angry - until you shut down too.
and that is when the actual hard part begins. azriel is still caught in his head and distances himself without even noticing, and you pull back too, bc you're stuck in your own head.
which means suddenly, the whole flat is quiet.
rhys and cassian would notice immediately - and it would throw absolutely everything for them. bc let's be honest, azriel and you are the one constant these two can always rely on when they get home, knowing you are either in one of your rooms, your body curled into azriel's on the bed, messing around in the kitchen or sandwiched on the couch. you are the two people in their lives they know are like - fucking meant for each other.
so I definitely think it would have a massive effect on them. like suddenly rhys, who has problems sleeping in good times, barely sleeps at all. just loses all his focus; burns food and gets the simplest recipes wrong. he gets snappy, not even sarcastic or anything, just plain pissed, until it mounts into an absolutely massive argument with his dad. and cass, who we all know is basically sunshine incarnate, is just worried to his core. bc you're his family, and he can't lose that. so, gone is the constant grin and jokes, until all is left is a broody attitude and a deep frown.
I don't think either of them would ever pick sides, like - they love the both of you way too much for that and can probably guess that this argument is not really anyone's fault. having said that, I do think cass would probably gravitate towards you. bc - he is so protective of you on a good day, and he literally physically can't stand to see you so upset. it just absolutely breaks his heart, and he would want to do everything in his power to make sure you're not alone in this. like, he's the one who gets you to finally open your door, and who you break down on. he's the one who doesn't leave your side until he absolutely has to, who takes you wherever you need to go, sends everyone who just looks at you for too long scrambling with a simple dark glare. don't get me wrong, he'd leave you alone if you'd asked him, but he would probably fucking camp outside your door or something, just in case.
rhys on the other hand is there for you quietly. like coming into both of your rooms to bring you food and, in your case, sitting down on the floor until you've eaten something. pulling you out of the flat for a walk so you get some fresh air, just letting you lean into him. other than that, he just watches quietly.
until he's had enough. cause honestly - it's clear to anyone with the barest bit of common sense that both azriel and you are absolutely miserable. neither of you leaves their room. you don't get any sleep, bc how when azriel's not there, your thoughts are swallowing you whole, and you don't smile anymore. meanwhile, azriel stops talking altogether. both of you are yearning so incredibly hard for the other that whenever azriel just catches a whiff of your perfume, he has to fight the urge to barge into your room, simply held back by guilt, and you well up whenever you just catch a glimpse at his door.
I think rhys would probably just march into azriel's room and tell him to cut the crap. he would be so angry, like - "please, for god`s sake, stop being a fucking idiot, get out of your head and talk to your fucking girlfriend, you moron". and azriel would glare at him so hard - but rhys just glares the fuck back until azriel breaks.
he probably finds you in your room. it breaks his heart to see you curled up under your blanket, looking tired and pale and likely with red eyes from crying, and he suddenly absolutely wants to kick himself. you're not any better tho, the sight of him, hair a mess, dark shadows under his eyes and gaze dull causing your chest to squeeze.
you definitely talk it out, azriel starting, voice quiet, rough. it needs a good, honest conversation, about the reasoning why he shut down, why you did the same. you also promise there and that moment to never let it get that far again, to not speaking for days, bc honestly - you're just miserable without the other, and you barely handled it this time. you make a deal to give the other space when needed but never go to bed without talking it out - and you stick to that, for every future argument after.
when azriel finally pulls you into a hug so tight, your ribs ache, you just squeeze back, probably tearing up bc god, you missed him. and you missed his smile and his eyes and the way he always seems to be right behind you, and nothing feels right without him.
cass and rhys are so relieved when you walk into the kitchen together bit later, cass breaking into the widest grin ever and rhys immediately making you promise to him too to never let it get this far again, bc fuck that - the two of you are meant together and fighting is just shit. it makes you giggle wetly, azriel cracking the first grin in days, and both cass and rhys swear the world finally feels right again.
anyway, jfc, I'm sorry for this ramble 🙈 that totally got out of hand 😂
thank u so much for this again tho, this was really fun!! if there are other scenarios you've been thinking about, I'd love to hear them 💞
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isaacthedruid · 1 day ago
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i wrote this weird little zombie poem/short story and for some reason my brain was supplying buck and eddie from 9-1-1 as the characters, so here’s the buddie cut of this stupid little story (trigger warnings of the normal zombie related media stuff<3)
my best friend died on thursday– car crash.
it’s saturday now but don’t cry for him, he was alive a few hours later. 
my best friend died on thursday– but i think he came back wrong.
i still don’t understand what happened, 
buck was in the hospital, in a coma and dead to the world. 
i was sat there with him, holding his limp hand in mine, 
his girlfriend (now ex-girlfriend) didn’t have the heart to show. 
he looked so small and pale, covered in bandages from head to toe. 
then his heart stopped, they couldn’t get it pumping again. 
they dragged me out of the room, to let them work. 
thursday, 1:17pm.
thursday, 3:34pm, buck called me. 
i hadn’t left the hospital, i thought it was some sick fucking joke. 
“my best friend just died, how fucking dare you-” i remember yelling into the phone. 
that certainly turned some heads but then he was standing there, 
my fucking dead best friend, in a hospital gown with bandages hung loosely off of him. 
what the fuck– i thought i was dreaming–
some fucked up grief induced hallucination but nurses were scrambling to help him. 
the person from the morgue was running down the hallway after him. 
all of them ushered him away, into an exam room. 
he was making a scene, apparently i was too. 
what the actual fuck- 
no, no, no- his heart stopped, all brain activity had died, he died-
anyways, i passed out. (thursday, i don’t know what time.)
i must have hit my head pretty hard on the way down
and there he was, sat like i had been earlier, holding my hand. 
his hand was cold, that pink that always flushed his skin hadn’t come back yet. 
the nurses had given him some clothes and me, a bandage for my head. 
“you died, buck..” i said.
“it didn’t stick,” he shrugged. 
they wanted to keep him for observation but he disagreed, seeing as he was perfectly fine. 
every scan was clear, even the random ones they pulled out of their asses to keep him longer.
my best friend who had just died, who earlier was more bandage than skin, was fine. 
i don’t get it but they discharged the both of us, 
we uber’d back to his place, he wouldn’t let me sleep on the couch, 
i can’t remember his reasoning but we shared his bed– i held him in my arms.
(we cuddled, not that either will actually admit it.)
friday, 8;13am, he was gone when i woke up. 
i found him downstairs, doubled over the toilet. 
the kitchen, a mess and food strewn out across the counters.
the ground beef (we were planning to cook for dinner) was torn into–
like an animal had got to it. he had eaten it, my brain supplied.
“don’t throw that away!” he said, wiping the bile from his mouth. 
“did you eat this?” i asked, the beef held frozen over the trash.
“i- you know the answer to that.” 
“why?” i sighed, rubbing at my temples and setting the half eaten- jesus- 
i sat the half eaten thing of ground beef back where i found it.
my best friend looked at it, pink and raw and ground, and then back to me, 
i wasn’t sure what buck was exactly getting at with that look. 
he scooped his fork into the beef, not breaking eye contact with me and took a bite. 
i nearly vomited but he seemed fine, unaffected,
which confused me given the initial vomiting on his part.
“what the actual fuck are you doing?” 
“what? i’m hungry,” he said with his mouthful.
“so, some raw meat was your choice of a nice breakfast?” 
“i cooked some eggs but they made me hurl.” 
“are you fucking serious, buck, and this? this isn’t making you sick?” 
“nope.” he answered matter-of-factly. 
friday, 7;46pm, he broke up with his girlfriend. 
his girlfriend of three years, the woman he was going to propose to next month. 
it’s kinda understandable as she didn’t visit him in the hospital when he literally died. 
other than that, the breakup came out of nowhere. broken up just like that.
she’d come to check on us– no, come to check on him. 
(we had an understanding. she didn’t like me and i didn’t like her either.) 
(she always said i was jealous of her which… i can’t fight her on.)
he was angry at her, rightfully so, and things got heated. 
she’d cheated on him, she revealed post-breakup. i shouldn’t have been listening–
but it was kinda hard to ignore when they were screaming at each other
and then she was screaming bloody murder. 
i ran into the kitchen, she was on the ground flailing and he was on top of her-
holy fucking shit, my best friend fucking bit her! 
he tore right through her neck and gnawed at her flesh. 
what the actual fuck was happening? holy fucking shit, this was actually happening. 
i pushed him off of her but she’d already bled out. 
“do you mind?” he asked, blood smeared across his face. coating his nose and chin.
“yes. i do mind! you- holy fucking shit, buck! are you crazy?” 
“i was hungry,” he said meekly. “also, she cheated on me and i-”
 “you didn’t have to eat her!” 
saturday, 1:02am, we buried the body in a field out in the middle of nowhere. 
we buried a body in the middle of nowhere.
no, we buried the bits and pieces that my best friend decided he didn’t want to eat.
what the actual fuck is my life turning into? 
“this better not become a habit of yours.” i sighed, dropping my shovel. 
“and what if it does?” buck smirked. 
“i’m not helping you bury more body parts.” 
“oh really?” 
“really.” i said, lying through my teeth.
it’s him and i til the end of the line, i’m his accomplice in this
and i wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“so, are you zombie?” i asked, starting up the truck. 
“i think so.” he replied, looking out the window. “are you okay with that?” 
“are you still, y’know, you?”
“i think so.” he repeated.
“then yeah…” i laughed, awkwardly as i often do. “as long as you don’t eat me.” 
“i wasn’t planning on it.” 
“i’m glad.” 
“besides, it would be kinda mean to eat you before i take you on a date.” 
“what-” 
“i’m serious, eddie.” 
“oh.” i blanched, “i’d like that.” 
oh. oh- oh my god? what the fuck is happening?
it’s not every day you get to bury a body with your best friend 
or burn evidence or scrub the kitchen down from top to bottom 
because he happened to decide he was craving human flesh. 
saturday, 7:30am, my boyfriend after a long conversation, took me out for breakfast. 
he was full, he’d just eaten an entire person minus the gallbladder and some bones
because apparently he’s like a cat who won’t eat every part of the mouse. 
i still don’t understand how this happened, he died,
became a honest to god zombie, he ate his cheating girlfriend, 
we buried her body, lied to the police and now, 
here, we are getting breakfast. 
how the fuck did i manage to get a boyfriend out of this…
it’s been a long two days.
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xmoriartea · 7 hours ago
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Not if I beat you to the punch—
Tomorrow, they will be counted among the legendary cultivators who came before them. They will officially become the Qing generation of lords overseeing the care and education of all on Cang Qiong Mountain and the protection of all those who look to them for aid, and even those who do not.
Tonight, they are a tired dozen of disciples with one foot in destiny and another in the trenches of their former lives. Head disciples about to ascend? A ceremony that needs weeks and weeks of planning? Well of course we can only trust those tasks to those same head disciples!
It's no wonder their last minute "meeting" on Qiong Ding devolved into nonsense. They've been running themselves ragged all this time to prepare their own ceremony. At least let them relax one final time before the weight of the mountain is strapped to their backs.
Zhang Qingyan's supply of wine flows freely between their cups and plans and preparations have been replaced with mahjong tiles and gossip. They're well into their cups by time someone calls over the clatter, "Fuck marry kill, our esteemed shishus and shibos."
(Shang Qinghua snickers into his fifth cup and does not regret introducing this hometown game to the mountain in the slightest as his martial siblings turn their attentions to this.)
There are some arguments. Who wants to marry Qi Qingqi's shizun, others want to marry Wu Qingfang's or Mu Qingfang's. Their hit lists are just as varied and animated once they confirm the silencing talisman is securely in place. Yue Qingyuan says nothing, but Mu Qingfang catches the huff of agreement when the current sect leader's name is tossed into the fire.
"Fuck Fa-shishu," Wu Qingfang finally calls out, swirling the wine in her cup and grinning as Mu Qingfang chokes on his.
Ignorant of their brother's struggle, the voices begin to rise.
Liu Qingge seems deep in thought when he says, more to his wine than to anyone else, "Fa-shishu has very gentle hands."
"Oh, yes. I change my answer," says Yue Qingyuan. "I rescind my marriage offer."
Mu Qingfang stares between them both, his wine a safe distance away from him now. "You cannot be serious."
Zhang Qingyan laughs. "Why not?"
He makes an undignified noise and gestures at nothing. "I would never slander my shizun. But I have watched him lose needles that were in his hand."
"But he's confidant."
"And handsome."
A sigh. "I could listen to him talk for a year, Mu-shidi, and not care what he was saying."
"Plus all that medical information should be good for something," Wu Qingfang pipes up again, because if she can bully her shidi she will.
Mu Qingfang turns to Shen Qingqiu because if he can trust anyone to be reasonable, it will be that man. But he finds a fan snapped open and green eyes cast anywhere but his own face.
He pulls his glasses off his face and rubs his brow.
He hears the phrase "silver fox" thrown around and positively shudders. He still has to face this man tomorrow. What a horrible idea this game was. He knows, he knows, Wei Qingwei is to blame for this and he's going to do horrible terrible things about it. What things? Ask him when the wine has stopped pounding on his head. But something certainly!
"Not to mention that tongue."
Suddenly the room is silent and eleven pairs of eyes are boring into one curly haired disciple who's still snickering into his wine until the silence penetrates even his attention.
Shang Qinghua's eyes shoot open wide at the realization those words came out of his mouth and weren't left trapped in the vault of his mind (what vault? he couldn't stop running his mouth!!).
Then the room went wild.
Um ok, 3AM thoughts, about SQH 12/12 Peak lords achievement; like even the previous ones?!
I mean, it just says 'Peak Lords' not, Qing generation or Current peak lords so.,
ehem just curious...
............ Anon why- now my mind is thinking all types of things FJSBSKDBAKDNMSND
I mean,,,,,,,, From what I remember the previous generation was a bunch of old dudes, so I don't think the System would consider them??
I won't say impossible bc at the end of the day this is THE teacher/student book fjsbakdbakdnskdk but in my AU SQH won't bag any older daddys, sorry 😔
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littlefankingdom · 5 months ago
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~ A Night in the Life of a Bat in Gotham
This is such a cute short story! The bat following Batman around, copying him, and being a detective with him! Bruce caring about stopping animal abuse and trafficking! Bruce saying that the bats of Gotham aren't his pets, they are their family! And he knows each one of them! I didn't know I needed Bruce gently holding a bat and calling it "my hero" until now, it's fucking adorable!
And the whole thing is a metaphor about the Batfam! About how they cannot be kept in captivity, how their falily is important and they need it, but each of them comes and goes as they wish and they respect it, and each have their own story to tell.
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