#Shanna speaks

[l4dyr3d]

We should normalize giving compliments to our reflections. Also growling at it sometimes. Also looking at it threateningly and saying "what are you looking at?" Or "keep going." Points if you happen to be carrying some pointy object to threaten it with. Also kissing it. Normalize making out with your reflection.

[shannaniganss]

Why doesn’t my dash have any blue eye samurai on it

[felikatze]

hmm

okay

harold,,,,

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I had a dream the other day that was trying to be Magic Knight Rayearth, but it was definitely adding some other things to it, like Sailor Moon and Teen Titans. It was also its own thing. Maybe I should try to make my own story out of it. LOL

[heartfullofleeches]

Yandere Hybrid Cafe Christmas Event

Festive lights and handmade ornaments line the cozy walls of a small cafe. Working with the guise of the shadows, a sneaky crow snips one of the paper snowflakes taped to a wall; tracing the name on its backside with their claws. They swiftly pocket their treasure and slowly ease back into the crowd; commotion at every corner.

A fatigued wolf guards both the snack table and back room from an excitable hyena's attempts to spike the punch and rigging the ballot being currently counted for. A leech mermaid rants about the poor quality of the blood in their glass is compared to that of their favorite cafe worker, to a plant woman weaving a wreath for the same individual with an abnormal amount of white bulbs shrewd in.

An attention hungry feline brags to anyone who will listen all about the holiday he had planned for him and his beloved; too many drinks in his system for him to care when people mention they aren't even together. A shy rabbit stands near a large curtain, gripping its frills for comfort from the stress of the crowd. It seemed he had picked up on the scent of the person behind it and relished in the trace in their presences; a cow woman addressing the absent of said person as she hangs the cat's phone out of reach as he scratches at her arm. Each members of the group had joined under one roof for that very soul, and without them present would soon lead the event to chaos.

With the clock nearing twelve, the currents draw back; frightening the rabbit boy until he sees who's on stage and their state of dress. The cafe representative stands front and center; a human wearing a reindeer mask and a santa hat. The sheep girl beside him pulls the string on a confetti cannon to gain the attention of the few stragglers in the room, trying to avoid sneaking a glance at her seated coworker as her boss speaks.

"Good evening, everyone. We're so happy to be celebrating the holidays with you all. As a gift from us to you, we've held a little gathering, with an added present now that we've reach the end. As they are our most requested host, we've held a raffle to spend the end of the year with our most valuable player. Without any introduction needed, please give a warm welcome to Y/n."

You stand up from your chair to the roar of approval from the crowd. A bow sits around your waist and atop your head; your normal work outfit wrapped with a red variant with a fluffy trim. Despite you being the obvious prize, all eyes focus on the little brown box in your arms; a single draw foretelling their fate.

"Now when I say go, they'll pull one note from the box which will be our winner. With all that of the way - Y/n, pick you you'll be spending the rest of the year with."

-

Request Based Event. Available suitors are the following:

Spot/Clyde: Rabbit Boy

Belle/Pauline: Cow Woman

Saber: Cat Boy

Bo/Shanna: Sheep Woman

Prince/Asher: Hyena Boy

Wisteria: Plant Woman

Bear/Scout: Wolfman

Doc: Leech Mermaid

Trick: Crow Person

Open till the end of the season.

[arvadthecursed]

no you don't get it. Arvad is a character defined by endless sacrifice, grace, and poise. He is the epitome of what a knight should be. His selflessness is his core quality. When he asks the workers at the camp for their permission to get closer to the Powerstone, because as a vampire he makes mortal humans uncomfortable. When he fights down his own emotion and politely thanks the ship's workers for allowing him to try. When he saves the ship from the phoenix attack. When he cooks for the crew, even though he can't eat. When he speaks earnestly to Liliana when she asks him invasive questions. When he saves Shanna from falling off the ship. When he stayed with the Weatherlight until he could not save it.

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Belong With You: Part. 3

Before I shut up, I just want to thank my wonderful @hollybee8917 for betaing this fic, even if I kept thinking that shouldn't post it. And for letting me bounce some ideas! love you!

(I know the title is different from the mood board)

The Light the Heat Belong WIth You

Bright lights, the horrible hospital smell, and people yelling around you. You couldn’t move, nor couldn’t speak. Everything hurts your head, the throbbing pain in your arms, and your legs.

You stopped in a room, and that’s when everything became brighter. Your body became weak, and you slowly closed your eyes.

We are losing her!

Doc, she’s bleeding from her head. We need to get her to the OR! Where’s Dr. Stark?

You suddenly awoke when you arrived at a larger room.

“Bailey?” You managed to say. 

A nurse came by your side, “Honey, what was that?”

Tears rolled down your face, and you tried to reach for the door, “Baby, m-m-my baby.”

And you crashed.

**

Chris’s driver pulled up into his Los Angeles home. The gate opened, and Scott came out. Immediately, Chris got out and went to get his luggage.

“Chris, go on ahead. We’ll take your things inside. Bailey is waiting for you.” Scott stopped him and went to the rear of the car. 

As he walked into his LA home, Chris immediately went to the other side of the house to see Steve’s mom walking out of Bailey’s room.

Tears started to form as Steve’s mom slowly handed the sleepy 8-month-old baby to him. Chris carefully placed her down on his shoulder and kissed her soft head. Bailey whined slightly and turned her head to the crook of her father’s neck.

“Your brother showed me where the milk was and her feeding times,” Steve’s mother said. Chris smiled and placed another kiss on top of his daughter's head, “Thank you for taking care of her. But I can take it from here; Ma and the rest of the family are here.” Chris adjusted Bailey towards his other shoulder. Steve’s mom smiled and sighed, “Anything for you, Chris. If you need anything, call, and we’ll be on our way. And Chris? She will pull through. She’s a tough mother.” She headed out the door. 

Once Steve’s mother left, the rest of his family came in, and Bailey woke up with a loud cry.  

Chris walked into the kitchen as he rubbed her back.

“Shh, sweetheart. Daddy is here.” Chris cooed as he saw the bottle ready at the dispenser. He turned it on and looked down to see Bailey looking up towards her father. She had teary eyes and a look of confusion. He knew that she was looking for her mother.

When Shanna walked in, Bailey turned and reached out to her auntie, Shanna. She had dropped what she had in her hands and went over to her niece. The confusion was on Chris’s face as his sister took her from his arms, and Bailey hid her head between her neck.

“Is her bottle ready?” Shanna asked her brother as she placed her down into her highchair. Chris turned around to see the bottle already filled with milk.

“Shanna-“

“Chris, if you want to know why she’s not used to you? Think about it.” Tara broke in as she walked in with Dodger walking in with his toy in his mouth.

“I understand that I’m not always there when Y/N needs me. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t think-“

“Chris, it doesn’t matter if you think of your wife and daughter. But the fact that you didn’t even do anything to help. Y/N did all this on her own. Yes, you were there when Bailey was born, but you left after two months and were barely home. And now this whole crap show? I can’t even believe you even decided to do this shit.” Tara said, taking a seat on the island.

Chris knew they were right. He was stuck in a situation that he couldn't get out of. It’s what drove you away. You’re a strong girl that put up with his crap for many years. But you had your limits, and it hurt you in the end and for him.

But he needs to make things right again. His wife is in the hospital fighting for her life, and he needs to be there when she wakes up.

“Look, I know you’re all mad at me. I get it, and I understand. I fucked up big time, but I need to make things right. Y/N needs me, I need her, and my baby girl needs me.” Chris sighed.

Everyone looked at Chris, and Shanna nodded. “You want to feed her?” 

Shanna took out Bailey’s Strawberry Yogurt and a pink Hello Kitty spoon. Chris gladly took the spoon and the yogurt. He pulled up a chair, opened the lid, scooped up some, and aimed toward his daughter.

“Dadda!” Bailey yelled. Chris froze and looked at everyone around him.

“Dadda!” Bailey called out again, and Chris turned to see a blueberry in her hand as she offered it to him.

“For me?” Chris asked as Bailey gave a bright smile. Chris then took the blueberry in his mouth, and her loud giggle echoed through the house.

**

Later that morning, after a good rest, Chris got a call from Scott, who said you were out of surgery. Chris got his things ready, and Tara and his mom went to the car. Shanna and Carly stayed behind to watch Bailey.

When Chris and his family arrived at UCLA Hospital, Scott had met them at the ICU.

“Scott, you can go home, rest, shower, and eat something. Carly is at the house.” Chris said, hugging his brother.

“Thanks and the doctor will be out shortly,” Scott said, and Chris handed him his car keys. Once Scott had left, Chris and your sister Tara went to the front desk.

“Can I help you?” The nurse asked. Chris cleared his throat and sighed.

“I’m here for Y/N Evans?” Chris said. The nurse typed in the name and looked towards him.

“Are you related to her?” The nurse responded.

“I am. I’m her husband. She came in with our daughter, Bailey Rose Evans.” Chris replied. 

The nurse nodded and got up. She then gave Tara and Chris visitor passes and headed inside the ICU. Walking down the hallway, a doctor exited one of the rooms, and the nurse paused and turned towards Chris and Tara, “This is Dr. Stark, the surgeon caring for your wife.” 

The nurse then left.

Dr. Stark extended his hand, “Mr. Evans, I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances. Let’s go to my office to talk.”

The pair followed the doctor down the hall and into his office, where they all sat down. Doctor Stark leaned forward over his desk, “It was touch and go with your wife for a bit. We lost her a few-“

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOST HER?” Chris yelled.

“Chris, calm down! I’m just as concerned as you are. Let him finish.” Tara said and turned back to the doctor.

“We lost her a few times, but we managed to keep her stable. Her recovery will be touchy. She had both legs broken, and I placed screws in both legs. She also has a broken left arm. “ Dr. Stark paused.

“She has suffered severe skull fractures and a bruised neck. She has a slight spinal injury from the impact of the -“

“I need to see her.” Chris interrupted. 

Dr. Stark nodded and led them down to the room you were in. He sighed and opened the door.

But the moment the door opened, Chris wasn’t prepared to see what was in front of him. The machines and everything that was hooked to you broke him. Rushing to your side, he gently took your hand and laid against your shoulder.

“I’m here now, sweetheart; I’m here for you. I promise you that I’m not going anywhere.” Chris whispered and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

[skygemspeaks]

one thing i love about hive mind is amber's relationship with her strike team. I love how protective they are of her

i can't stop thinking of a time travel au where amber ends up back in her 17 year old body a year before lottery, and with her telepathy still blocked

At first she thinks she's the only one, but then she finds out that forge had broken up with shanna, and he starts hanging out with amber more and more.

Amber, after having gotten used to having the support of her unit, of being able to dip into their minds whenever she needed reassurance, is feeling horribly lonely trapped in the confines of her own mind

And now Forge is paying attention to her, and she doesn't know if she's reading the signs properly, or if elden's imprint is making her see things that aren't there. But she figures she has to give it a shot.

she asks him if he remembers lottery

And forge, who had been under the impression all this time that he was alone, is immediately elated. He picks her up in a crushing hug and spins her in an excited circle

It's hard for them both, to live their carefree lives on teen level knowing just how desperate a situation their hive is in at the moment due to claire's death. But there's nothing they can do about it.

Amber is still lonely, but at least she has one of her strike team members with her.

He's being suffocatingly protective of her though, to the point that shanna corners her one day and berates her for breaking up their relationship.

Amber had already long lost any feelings of affection she'd had towards shanna, but it still hurts to know what her once best friend thinks her capable of.

Over the course of the next few weeks, several members of her strike team slowly start making an appearance.

None of them had known where exactly hers and forge's corridor had been on teen level - all they'd known was that they had been in blue zone. Which is why when Forge and Amber arrive at blue zone's centre-point shopping area on teen level one day, three young men shout their excitement as soon as they step off the belts. Amber has only a few moments to recognize eli, rothan, and matias before they come barreling into her and speaking over each other about how excited they are to see her. They hadn't known how else to get in contact with her, but they'd figured she'd have to go shopping eventually, so they'd each shown up here separately, whenever they had the free time, and had eventually come in contact with each other.

Over the next year, they slowly make contact with more and more of the strike team, as well as the liaison and tactical members who are the same age as them

By the time Amber goes into lottery, she's already reunited with half her unit.

[quiteemocowboylover2]

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[sapphire-writes]

Read more on AO3

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OC

Summary: Aemond and Elyse face each other, and discuss their betrothal.

Warnings: smut at the end of chapter

Word count: 5,355

previous chapter ~~ next chapter

Chapter 11: Desire

On Aemond’s thirteenth nameday, Aegon brought him to the Street of Silk. “Time to get it wet,” he had said, clasping his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders and beckoning him towards the doors of the House of Kisses. 

Aemond had donned his eyepatch for the outing. He had taken to wearing it after seeing several ladies of court turn green at the sight of the empty socket where his eye once resided. 

Their faces served as constant reminders of his disfigurement. 

Vhagar was his only comfort. He spent most of his time with her. If he couldn’t be a knight he would be the most revered dragon rider there was. 

Aemond had scrunched his nose at Aegon’s words. His elder brother looked at him incredulously. 

“Your cock, Aemond. I’m talking about your cock,” Aegon had said.

“I know what you’re talking about!” Aemond had growled in response, face burning. 

“Virgins are truly a treat,” Aegon had mused, “you barely have to touch them to have them soaked and mewling like a kitten.” 

Aemond’s lip had curled in disgust at Aegon’s crude remarks. Aegon’s depravity had always bothered him. 

The House of Kisses was one of many brothels on the Street of Silk. The air was thick with humidity, and Aemond’s silver hair clung to the back of his neck from the sweat that pooled there. Though the goldcloaks were nearby the people of King’s Landing pushed by the young princes as though they are commoners themselves. The streets are alive with men seeking pleasure for a purse of coins.

Aemond had been ushered into a perfumed room with several colorful pillows and a bed. Aegon had torn himself from Aemond, promising to return within the hour, helping himself to one of the many rooms. Aemond’s mouth went dry as a lady entered the room. Not a lady, Aemond had to remind himself.

She was older than him, hair a brown copper held off of her face. Her face was soft with her age, but she was still pretty, Aemond had noted. She gave him a smile as she walked towards him. 

“My lady- I mean,” Aemond swallowed as she sat beside him. Her pink skirts danced against his leg, the Myrish lace patterns catching on his trousers. 

“I do not know what to call you,” the prince admitted, eye wide and alert. His heart beat wildly in his chest. The woman smiled. 

“It is Shanna, my prince,” she told him, “it is an honor to be in your presence.”

“Is it?” Aemond asked, mouth tight. He found himself angling away from her, hands clenched into fists at his sides. 

Shanna lowered her gaze, raising a hand to stroke his arm. Aemond flinched at her touch. She moved closer to him, leaning as though to press her lips to his.

“Wait,” he said suddenly and she pulled back.

“Do you not enjoy kissing, my prince? We can start however you like,” she assured him. 

Aemond chewed his lip, feeling ashamed of the nervousness that flowed through him. He couldn’t even bed a whore. How pathetic he must seem. 

“I do not think I wish for this, at the moment,” Aemond admitted and Shanna gave him a small smile.

“That is alright too, my prince.”

Aemond met her gaze, relief washing over him.

“It is?” 

“Your brother has paid, regardless. We need not do anything you are not comfortable with,” she assured him. 

Aemond paused for a moment. 

“Can you tell him we…” Aemond couldn’t finish the sentence, the embarrassment of speaking to a woman in such a lewd way was too much. 

Shanna only smiled at the boy, several years his younger. 

“As you wish, my prince,” she had told him. 

Aemond did not join Shanna in her bed that day. He sat with her for the entire hour she was paid and left without a second glance.

He did not have the pleasure of seeing Shanna again, until that fateful day when he brought Ser Criston to the House of Kisses attempting to find Aegon.

The woman had clearly recognized him, a one-eyed Targaryen prince was not easy to forget. She smiled a knowing smile at him. They shared a secret. 

“How you’ve grown,” she praised, and Aemond shied away from her gaze.

The music from the feast rang in Elyse’s ears. She felt herself blink several times, watching Helaena’s lips move as she spoke swiftly to her. The air in the room seemed thick like honey, everything moved in slow motion. 

“It was grandsire’s idea apparently,” Helaena said and Elyse felt her attention snap back to the room. 

“You know mother adores you, and of course, I do not want you to leave either, so this is good, perhaps?”

Elyse felt her pulse fluttering against her wrist where Helaena’s fingers held her. 

“Aemond cares for you as well, in his own right. And you care for him,” Helaena encouraged, lavender eyes studying her friend's face. Elyse looked at her in disbelief. 

“Helaena, I am to be wed.”

Helaena’s head tilted.

“Yes, to Aemond,” Helaena said, for the second time that evening. 

Elyse stared at her, eyes wide. A hysterical laugh escaped her lips. What the seven hells was going on? Elyse felt as though she was going mad. 

“What of Lord Maceon?” Elyse asked. 

Helaena pursed her lips, glancing around the great hall, before beckoning her friend to a corner of the room. Elyse allowed Helaena to drag her from the dance floor, not trusting her footing.

“Mother says betrothals are easy enough to break, especially with no formal dowry arranged,” Helaena whispered, “your father will not deny you a dragon prince.”

Elyse’s eyes were wide, unblinking as Helaena spoke so nonchalantly. She could not believe what was happening. She wet her lips, looking up momentarily at the ceiling, grasping for a sense of sanity. 

“Perhaps your father shall marry one of you sisters to Lord Maceon,” Helaena assured her.

“Helaena, he does not even like me,” Elyse hissed through clenched teeth, though this was a foolish response. Lords and ladies were rarely thrown into marriages for love. But Lord Maceon could have loved her. Could have grown to love her. 

Helaena raised an eyebrow at her words, unconvinced. Elyse’s eyes were pleading. 

“It is true, I all but demanded him to take me to wife last night.” 

Helaena’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open as a gasp escaped her lips.

“You harlot!” she scolded, with a playful smile on her face, “and on the eve before your departure? How very scandalous.” 

“Yes, I know, I shall beg the Maiden’s forgiveness later,” Elyse said, shaking her head, “but Helaena, listen to me, he does not want me.”

Helaena would not hear it. 

“Aemond shall do his duty regardless,” Helaena insisted, “but you are wrong, sweet sister.”

“And I always thought you’d be a terrible lady of Highgarden,” Helaena told her and Elyse barked out a laugh. 

“I shall make a terrible princess as well!” Elyse said bitterly. 

“You did not love Lord Maceon, you said so yourself-”

“So that is it? To be unloved here or at Highgarden. A pawn moved about the board.”

Elyse regretted her words as she saw the pain that flashed through Helaena’s eyes. Elyse sighed clasping Helaena’s hand in hers.

“I’m sorry, that was cruel,” she told her companion, who gave her a small smile. 

She found her eyes scanning the room, searching for Aemond. She found him, standing next to his mother, deeply engrossed in what she was speaking to him. 

Alicent’s hands made sharp movements, emphasizing whatever she said to him. His face was a mask of stone, lips in a tight line before he nodded sharply. 

Elyse felt a wave of nausea roll through her, as she paled. 

He was upset. 

Elyse felt her mouth go dry as she watched the conversation between mother and son. Alicent looked towards the crowd, catching Elyse’s eyes. Aemond followed her look and Elyse looked away quickly as his lilac eye met hers. 

The drums of the music picked up and Elyse was lost in the crowd again. She was thrust suddenly into a group dance, Helaena joining her. 

Elyse could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she swayed between lords and ladies. A crack of thunder boomed outside, as the sky opened up rain pouring against the windows of the great hall. 

Suddenly, Aegon appeared before her, eyes rimmed with dark circles. His left eye appeared slightly swollen. A new dance began. 

“Courtesy of your betrothed,” he said, nodding upwards. 

“Your Grace,” Elyse said, dropping her eyes from his face. Aegon blew air between his lips. 

“No need to be so formal, you are my sweet sister-to-be,” he told her, linking her arm with his. His steps were off, and Elyse found herself stumbling to keep up with him. 

“I was delighted to approve the match,” Aegon continued, smiling knowingly. “How very fortunate we are to keep you in the capital.” 

Elyse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

“You honor me, your grace,” Elyse told him, causing him to chuckle. 

“Do I?” Aegon asked, hand tightening on her waist.

“Of course, your grace,” Elyse told him.

“I do enjoy being king, you’re so much sweeter than you were last night,” he crooned. 

Elyse gave him a tight smile. 

~~~~~

“You will do this for me, yes?” Alicent asked her second son, eyes wide as saucers. 

Aemond could hear his heart pounding in his ears. 

His mother looked past him towards Elyse in the crowd. Aemond’s eye followed her, meeting Elye’s blue eyes for a heartbeat before she looked away. 

She would hate him, he was sure of it. If she didn’t already this would be the end of it. 

Aemond turned back towards his mother, her pleading eyes that begged him to save her. 

“Of course mother. Aegon shall have Lord Borros’ oath and I shall have this girl.” 

Alicent smiled shakily, pleased that her son would do as she asked. She clasped her hand on his forearm. Aemond continued to prove he was her anchor in this world. 

“Lady Elyse shall make a good wife,” she encouraged. 

Aemond watched as Aegon captured her in a dance, a deep sense of possessiveness rolled through him. He felt his fists clench as he watched them.

Her green skirts flowed behind her as spun in her dance. The color flattered her. Every time Aemond believed she could not be more beautiful, she seemed to prove him wrong. 

Aemond watched as his brother conversed with her, fingers twitching towards the dagger at his belt. 

~~~~

Elyse’s chambers were cold when she returned from the feast. Her luggage had been delivered to her chambers during the feast, chests, and trunks scattered across the room. How very close she had been to leave the Red Keep. She felt tears prick her eyes. 

Though she was happy to remain in the home she had known, she couldn’t help the feeling that something had been taken from her. A chance. A choice. A life that might have brought her some sense of happiness. 

She swallowed hard as she thought of Aemond, the cold look in his eye. There was one point where she thought Aemond cared for her, but after the previous night, those dreams had scattered from her mind. 

Elyse tossed and turned in bed for ages before she decided she needed to confront Aemond. She could not stand not knowing exactly what was going on in his head. Snatching her dressing robe from the chair at her desk with such speed the chair wobbled on the floor. 

She left her room quietly, sneaking by gold cloaks patrolling the halls. It was unladylike to be wandering the halls at the hour of the owl, nevertheless going to a man’s room. Even if he was her betrothed. Especially if it was her betrothed. 

Elyse stood outside Aemond’s chambers. She had never been inside before, but she knew his door well. Guided by only anger and fear, she knocked on her betrothed’s door. 

He opened the door, in only his trousers, chest bare. His eyepatch seemed tilted on his face, as though he had rushed to put it on. She had never seen him so disheveled. Elyse pushed past him, not waiting for him to invite her in. 

His chambers were sizably larger than that of Elyse. As she entered through the antechamber towards his inner bedchamber this became apparent.

A fire roared in the fireplace, fur rugs lining the floors. A wide chaise lounge and several chairs were positioned around the fire. Elyse could imagine him seated there, reading. The room was cozy. Warm. So unlike the cold exterior, he presented to the rest of the world. 

Her eyes drifted to the large four-poster bed sat at the back of the room, sheets tousled as though he had been waiting for sleep before she arrived. Her body warmed at the thought. 

His desk was full of papers and instruments, several books, empty pots of ink, and scrolls. A large window with a small balcony held several potted plants on the ledge. 

Elyse heard him slowly close the door, the hinges creaking. She suddenly felt like prey. A doe in the dragon’s lair. 

“The hour is late, my lady,” Aemond said as she turned to face him. 

His eye raked over her body, and Elyse became very aware of her hasty decision to rush to his chambers in only her dressing robe and night shift. She pulls her dressing robes closer around the front of her body. 

“I wish to speak with you.”

“And it could not wait until morning?”

“No it could not,” Elyse said, crossing her arms. 

Aemond’s eyebrows rose at her tone.

“If my betrothed desires it, so be it,” he said softly, an amused smirk on his face. 

Elyse’s brows furrowed. 

“Do not belittle me.” 

“Never,” he retorted, eye narrowing.

Elyse, unable to help herself, looked him up and down. She could see the smooth muscles of his chest, his arm muscles flexing. Aemond trained relentlessly even on frigid or stormy days, and his hard work showed. 

Her eyes drifted down his toned stomach, a trail of wispy silvery hair disappearing into his trousers. She swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to meet his. There was no sign of embarrassment on his face, he seemed to know how pleasing his lean frame was. 

“What say you of this arrangement?” she asked. Aemond looked away, walking towards his desk. Elyse’s eyes track his every movement. 

“What is there to say, my lady?” he asked.

“Why agree to this match?”

Aemond wets his lips, turning away from her to face the fire. Elyse watches the muscles in his back tense. She hates the heat that gathers on the back of her neck, the desire that pools in her stomach when she looks at him. It makes her feel weak. 

“Strengthen the unity of our houses. House Baratheon has been loyal to House Targaryen since the conquest,” he told her, dry as if reciting history. 

Elyse rolled her eyes. A very intellectual answer, but not what she was looking for. 

“Yes, but why me?” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“You do not want me!” Elyse snapped, voice echoing in the bedchamber. The pain of the statement was etched in the words she spat at him.

Aemond stilled at her words, back still towards her. Elyse’s chest heaved with anger, her nostrils flaring. 

“You do not want me, and yet you insist on keeping me from some form of happiness I may acquire.” Elyse seethed as Aemond turned to face her. His eye widened, a sea of lavender soon to drown her. 

Her face was twisted with anger, her chin held high as she stared him down. 

“Why did you keep me?” she demanded softly, unable to stop the whimper that follows the question. Her bottom lip trembles and she’s not sure if it is because of anger or the fear of his potential answer. She watches as his tongue traces his bottom teeth within his lips.

“Why not contest your mother’s choice? Fly to Storm’s End, and choose one of my sisters. Perhaps they are better suited.”

Elyse can not keep the bitterness from her voice. Always replaceable, always interchangeable. One of many eligible noble daughters. 

“You are my sister’s companion,” he stated matter of factly.

“You have taken me to wife, all for the benefit of Helaena?”

“It was practical.”

Elyse scoffed, her face flushed with anger. She did not know what else she expected from him, but disappointment coursed through her veins. 

“There is nothing else?” she probed. 

The question lingered between them. Elyse had shown her heart, she would not again. 

“What else would there be?” Aemond asked, his voice like ice. 

Elyse swallowed. She would not cry. She had spilled too many tears for him already. 

“Have it your way then. My prince,” she said, extending her arms too wide in a dramatic curtsey. She moved to leave his chambers before pausing.

Elyse could not help the question that spilled from her lips. 

“What if Lord Maceon calls his banners and decides to come to claim his bride?” Elyse challenged, watching his jaw clench, and his fingers flex. The last effort for him to show his hand. 

Aemond felt her words ignite a fire in his veins, his lips curled at the thought. I’ll kill him, he thought. Let him try. I’ll burn Highgarden to the ground and salt the ashes left behind. 

“You are my bride,” he snarled, his face twisted in anger. Elyse felt something in her stomach flutter. 

He stalked closer to her, unable to control himself. Elyse backed up at his advances colliding with the wall. Aemond put his hands on either side of her head, trapping her against it. She could see the flecks of blue in his violet eye—the deep ridges of the scar that marked his face.  

“You do not desire that,” Elyse snarled, pushing her hands against his chest. He did not move from her shove, but let out a rough breath. 

Elyse could feel the heat radiating off of Aemond, as he lowered his head to her shoulder, his head bowed as though in defeat. He let the weight of his head rest there for a moment, silver hair tickling her cheek. 

Elyse was sure he could hear her heart beating in her chest. He lifted his head, nose trailing along the side of her neck causing her to shiver. 

“Do you really think I would let that flower lord have you?” he spoke, voice low, his mouth caressing the spot where her jaw met her neck. The last of Aemond’s self-restraint was hanging by a thread as he inhaled her familiar scent of lavender and lily of the valley.

Elyse closed her eyes as he spoke, knees growing weak. She felt a tremor roll through her body and worried she would collapse against him. 

“There is no corner of this world that he could take you to that I would not find you,” he whispered against her throat, a threat concealed with a kiss. 

“I would have Vhagar burn the seven kingdoms to ruins and have you atop the ashes.”

Elyse’s eyes opened, half-lidded with desire, his promise sending warmth to the very core of her being. She feels something inside her tighten with need. 

“You do not want me,” she breathed, seeing the chink in his armor. She had gotten a rise out of him. She could hear it in his voice, his words coated in venom.

Jealousy.

Aemond was silent for a moment before giving in to his desire.

“I have always wanted you,” he admitted softly. 

She grabbed him by the scruff of the silver hair of his neck, yanking his lips from her neck. He let out a low whine at her sudden roughness, pupil dilated, lips parted. 

“You want me?” Elyse asked, desperate to hear him say it again. She kept her fingers entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, blue eyes wide. 

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. He wants her. He wants her more than he has wanted anything in his life. She is sweeter than the vengeance that flows through his veins. He thought he knew what it was to want, to desire. Never before her. 

Elyse stared at him a moment longer, reveling in the confession of the dragon prince. Aemond watched her carefully. 

“I am yours,” she whispered and Aemond lunged forward, connecting their mouths. The kiss was searing and demanding, a match becoming aflame. His lips were soft, molding against hers the taste of mint and wine on his tongue. 

Aemond took his time prying open her mouth, probing into her with his hot tongue. Elyse let her fingers get lost in his silver hair, holding on for dear life as his mouth explored hers. 

“Elyse,” he murmured against her lips. “What foolish questions you ask.”

Elyse whimpered at his words, desperate to be closer to him. 

“Foolish?” Elyse breathed through his kisses. Aemond captured her bottom lip between his teeth, Elyse’s hands wrapping around his neck, molding his body against hers. 

“I desire you in every way a man can.” 

Aemond roughly pulled at her dressing robe, the material pooling to the floor leaving her in only her night shift. His hands found her waist as he pressed into her, nearly lifting her off the floor pinned between himself and the wall. 

His grip on her waist tightened as all his restraints melted away. The years he had held himself away from her, had stopped him from visiting her chambers in the middle of the night. All the nights he had finished himself in his hand imagining it was her. He let his hands trail to cup her backside, grinding against her.

He roughly pulled her from the wall, his lips not leaving hers. She whined as he maneuvered her towards the chaise lounge, laying her down and crawling on top of her. Aemond deepened the kiss, sending waves of fire throughout Elyse’s body. 

Aemond held himself atop her with one hand, letting the other explore her body. He lazily trailed his fingers down her collarbone, down into the swell of her breast. Aemond took her breast into his hand, squeezing roughly. 

Elyse moaned into his mouth at his touch, at the feeling of his hardness pressed against her through their clothes. Aemond yanked the material of her shift to her waist, allowing his hand underneath. Her skin was hot with desire as he touched her smooth flesh, running his hand over her pebbled nipples. 

Elyse cried out as Aemond moved to suck on the skin of her neck.

“Aemond,” she breathed his name as though it were a prayer, and his cock twitched in his pants. He let his weight rest atop her, leaving her momentarily breathless. Elyse dug her nails into the muscles of his back, desperate to have him closer to her. His teeth scraped against her neck. She could feel her wetness leaving a slick trail on her inner thighs as she clenched for some friction, needing some form of pressure. 

As if reading her thoughts, Aemond’s hand left her breast and began to travel lower, teasing her breastbone, lower stomach, and over her pelvis. His fingers ghosted over her skin, barely touching her. Delirious with want, Elyse cried out to him again. 

“Please,” she softly begged, and she could feel him smile into the crook of her neck. She wanted him everywhere. She wanted him to consume her in his flames. His fingers found the heat of her clothed cunt, pressing against it with his knuckles. The pressure he applied made stars appear in her eyes.

“Say it again,” he murmured a soft command.

“Please,” she repeated. She was sure at that moment she would say anything he demanded of her. 

“Again.”

“Please Aemond.”

His fingers found their way under her small clothes, brushing through her silky, wet folds. He gathered her slick on his fingers and began to rub torturously slow circles on her bundle of nerves. She writhed underneath him with the stimulation as he placed a kiss on her jaw. Her fingers dug into his long silver hair. 

She could feel herself dripping, making a mess of her thighs and most certainly his hand, but was too lost in the pleasure to feel embarrassed. Aemond moved his hand down, a finger teasing at her entrance. 

“I shall not take your maidenhead tonight,” he rasped, voice raw with lust as though he wanted nothing more than to ruin her atop the chaise lounge. She was so needy, so wet for him. 

“That I shall save for our wedding night.” 

Elyse could only whimper below him as he inserted a finger into her tight cunt. Her warm walls clenched around him, aching to be filled. The new sensation was uncomfortable but it sent a current of pleasure through her body. Aemond sat up, waiting a moment, studying her face. 

“Is this alright?” he asked and Elyse nodded frantically. 

“Yesyesyes,” she breathed, earning a dark chuckle. 

Aemond curled his finger inside her, and her mouth fell open in pleasure. She felt he was pulling her apart, surely he must be destroying her in the most delicious way possible. He continued the movement as Elyse writhed on the chaise, his jaw slacking as he watched her. 

Her eyelids fluttered, her breathing came in pants, hard nipples straining through her shift. His finger searched within her until it found a spongy section that made her vision go white. 

“Gods,” she breathed, arching her back and closing her eyes. Aemond grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. 

“There are no gods here,” he told her, “only me.”

Elyse looked into his eye and saw the desire that resided there as he claimed her with his fingers. Her mouth twitched into a blissful smile.

“Yes, my prince,” she said to him, as he slipped a second finger into her heat. She cried out as his fingers curled within her. Aemond bit his lower lip, a hungry expression on his face.

“Again,” he demanded, fingers moving relentlessly inside of her.

A strangled moan escaped Elyse’s lips as pleasure blinded her. Aemond clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“Say it.”

“My prince,” she moaned and Aemond moved off of the chaise. Kneeling on the floor, he curled his free hand around her thigh, pulling her so her legs hung off the chaise. Aemond’s head dipped between her legs. 

Elyse lifted her head, propping herself on her forearms. 

“What are you-” she began but was quickly silenced as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves within her mound. A half sob escaped her lips as he sucked, his tongue-gods his tongue-moving hot and wet against her as his fingers curled against her spongy walls. 

The pleasure was so much more intense than when she had touched herself. Elyse felt as though Aemond was discovering parts of her she had no idea existed. The smooth muscle of his tongue worked wonders-seven hells she wondered how she would ever be able to watch him speak again after knowing what that mouth was capable of. 

Her thighs trembled and he squeezed the soft flesh as she squirmed. Lewd, wet noises filled the room as he continued to feast on her, fingers never stopping their magic. He moaned, closing his eye, the sounds vibrating against her mound. 

Tears leaked from her eyes as the pleasure began its crescendo with her. Elyse felt a sensation as though her bladder was about to spasm uncontrollably, the coil within her about to snap.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” she begged him, and he released his mouth from her. 

“Gevie,” he purred, curling his fingers and pressing his hand down on her pelvis. He reattached his lips to her sensitive pearl and Elyse came hard with a sob, cunt clamping down around his fingers. 

Aemond lapped at her juices as she came down from her high, panting hard with a gleam of sweat over her. She inhaled a sharp breath as he removed his fingers from her, feeling strangely empty. He pressed his mouth over her dripping slit, nose brushing her swollen clit, causing Elyse to jerk. 

He sucked greedily, like a man who had not had his thirst quenched in days, the overstimulation making her cry out, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks. When he finally removed himself from between her legs, he was atop her again, mouth molding against hers. She could taste herself on his lips. The erotic nature of the kiss made her groan. 

“Sweet Elyse,” he murmured, a satisfied smile on his face, “you did so well for me.”

Elyse, still trying to catch her breath, grew warm with his praise and brought a hand to cup the side of his face. Her eyes fell toward his breeches, the straining on his manhood. She swallowed, eyes wide. 

“Is there something I should do?” 

Aemond let out a hum, laying against her. The chaise was not big enough for the both of them, they had to be nearly on top of one another. 

“Not tonight,” he told her, and Elyse could not help her crestfallen expression. Aemond took notice. 

“You must hurry to your chambers. There will be a scandal if you are discovered leaving my chambers at this hour. And,” he moved to brush a lock of hair from her face, “if I continue to let you touch me, I cannot promise to keep my word about your maidenhead.” 

Elyse felt a new wave of desire ripple through her at the thought. 

She looked up at him between her lashes, chewing the inside of her lip. 

“You’re certain?”

Aemond clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and hummed, his arms tightening around her. 

“You’re making the decision rather difficult.” 

Elyse sat up, looking around the room. She indeed was in Aemond’s chambers. Her betrothed. She looked down at him, he was still watching her. 

He was truly an ethereal beauty of a man, his long silver hair splayed out, the light from the fire dancing on the sharp edges of his face. He sat up suddenly, uncomfortable with how closely she was examining him. 

“What?” he demanded, but a smile played on his lips.

Elyse sunk her teeth into her lower lip, Aemond’s eye following the motion as though he was desperate to taste those lips again. 

“I should make haste,” she whispered as he brought his hand to the side of her face, bringing their lips together once more. Fire pooled in her belly. 

He kissed her as though he had done it one thousand times before.

Elyse gasped to catch her breath when he released her, his hand still holding the side of her face. 

“Make haste, my lady,” Aemond told her, as she stood, at last, fixing her shift. 

Aemond picked up her dressing gown from its discarded place on the floor, holding it open for her to slip into. 

She turned her back towards him, placing her arms in the sleeves. Elyse felt his breath against her neck, gooseflesh blossoming.

Elyse turned to him as he led her towards the door. 

“Good night, my prince.”

“Good night, my lady.” 

Elyse tore through the halls of the Red Keep, heart pounding and face flushed. When she returned to her chambers she stood, back against the door. She brought her fingers to her lips before sliding down the door to sit in front of it.

A nervous giggle escaped her lips. Aemond wanted her. He desired her. He had made love to her with his mouth. With his hands. Elyse felt a shiver run through her. From her seat on the ground, she noticed a chest beneath her bed, one that would have been forgotten had she left King’s Landing. 

The smile fell from her face as she gazed upon the chest of letters from Jacaerys Velaryon.  

[l4dyr3d]

Living alone is amazing because why lie on your bed in despair when you can lie on your table in despair

[marvelousmrm]

Ka-Zar the Savage #14 (Jones/Anderson, May 1982). Shanna marries a guy whose language she doesn’t speak. Ka-Zar goes on a hunting trip with her new husband and winds up getting him killed. These two are a blight!

[majaloveschris]

In the video from the Walmart conference, CE twice says "we gave him" instead of "I gave him" when speaking about Dodger switching to Jinx food. The jackpot question is who is the "we"?

Lisa. Scott. Carly. Shanna. Tara. Any of his relatives or close friends.

Dodger has been part of their family's life for years now, and his isn't the first time he said "we" when he was talking about Dodger, when Alba was nowhere to be found. (Dodger's surgery, 2020).

Not everything is about her.

[bluerosesburnblue]

The thing is, Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth isn't even the problem. It's going to sell well when they stop kneecapping it. The numbers look bad now, but that's entirely because right now it's a PS5 exclusive. It looks bad in comparison to Remake, but Remake released on PS4, a much easier console to get. I'm sure that Rebirth will start making up the numbers once it has a PC release because that's what people who lack a PS5, including some who owned a PS4 for Remake, are going to be getting it on

And that's ultimately the crux of Square's issues: bad decisions that don't pay attention to the market. FF7 Rebirth and FF16 are both suffering from PS5 exclusivity right now. PC usage for games is extremely popular, partly because it tends to sidestep the console exclusivity issue unless a company does something like this and hard delays the PC release just to keep it fully exclusive longer. Despite the fact that console exclusivity helps no one (except maybe the console sellers) in terms of sales because a lot of people who would otherwise play the game don't have the spare cash lying around to spend on a new console for whatever they're interested in, so they have to wait until it comes out on something they CAN play. Especially true of the PS5, which is expensive as hell and was prone to shortages after release. Which means that for all of their complaining, Square has a ton of unrealized gains on their IPs just because the PC releases that were promised aren't even out yet, and plenty of people are just waiting until they are

But the more they delay, the greater risk of those people who would have bought it on another console have of getting the story spoiled, or losing hype, or getting into something else, or just plain old deciding that they don't care anymore. And that'll be true of any game they release, regardless of whether it has the Final Fantasy brand attached or not, if they keep up this exclusivity stuff

Combine that with a number of just... baffling decisions and flops like:

Forspoken being a massive flop, panned for mediocre gameplay, bad dialogue, a weak story, and unlikable characters despite the massive budget behind it (and I do mean massive, it's probably where most of the financial loss is from)

New IPs that seems to be creatively uninspired and not fun to play, like Foamstars, which literally everyone said looked like Splatoon and is apparently just not a good PVP shooter

That fucking Symbiogenesis NFT nonsense, a game that you can only play by buying an NFT of a generic character, well after the NFT trend was over

And neglected legacy IPs like Kingdom Hearts going years without any real updates, and for KH all we do have is the horribly contradictory concept of a plot-heavy ARG game that you can play at home, which I can't believe was greenlit because it defeats the entire purpose of it being an ARG. And that still has no release date

...and it's no wonder that they lost $140m. And those are just the IPs I'm aware of. Like, let's be honest here, between an actually okay one-console showing for FF7 Rebirth and FF14, Final Fantasy is their money-maker right now. I'd be surprised if they didn't go more in on FF, because literally everything else is completely failing on them right now

It's so sad how fasts things can change in some cases...

Because, before we knew how many millions of dollars Square Enix had recently lost, I kept wanting to make a post about why I thought that a Final Fantasy VIII Remake was a really good/fun idea, even though Square Enix themselves and some fans might be hesitant about one in some regards.

And IDK... I still might end up making that post. But do I honestly think we'll ever see one now? No.

Chances were slim before... But if Final Fantasy VII Remakes can't really sell well (at least this most recent one -sobs-), we can honestly kiss our chances at most other ones goodbye:( Especially ones that would be even harder and more time consuming to make (and more costly).

Though I do think FFIX Remake is still happening. And maybe that rumor about an FFX Remake could be true.

[strawberry-metal]

The group of girls arrive at the building the party is taking place in. They share a look between eachother, acknowledging the importance of this investigation. Rose speaks up, turning her head to look at her sister.

"Ok. We will separate for now and each do our own investigations. We'll meet up back here later and share the information we've gathered. Shanna, you're with me."

"As the older twin, I should be saying that."

"Give it a rest, will you?"

As soon as they speak and separate, a woman dressed in cosplay emerges, flashing the twins a peace sign. "Rose! Is that you? You brought your twin sister? You both look amazing!! I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Nanami-san, it's good to see you. I'm happy to of made it. Your Miku cosplay looks wonderful." "Really? Thank you so much!"

"Moreover, there's actually something that's kind of bothering me that I'd like to bring up with you." "Yes?" "I appreciate the invitation, and the extra invites you allowed me to have. But is now really the time for a party? There's been disappearances happening in this neighborhood recently. Surely you're aware?"

Keeping a hand on her hip, the Miku cosplayer responds, "Of course I'm aware... I actually threw this party because everyone's nerves are on high alert, and I was hoping this could help cheer everyone up and help them to stop worrying for awhile. Also... strength in numbers, yes? It's safer to be in groups like this."

The older twin dressed in red chimes in. "That makes sense to me." She holds her hands up, tilting her head. "I'm sorry to bother you with more questions but... have you by chance heard anymore rumors?"

"Heard anymore?" The other woman raises a finger to her bottom lip in thought...then she too, tilts her head, eyebrows upturning in worry. "Wait, why? Are you actually trying to investigate this? That's dangerous! You should leave it to the cops!"

"Oh. No, not at all." Shanna lies. "We just merely want to make sure nothing else has happened as of late. I mean... sure we look pretty composed but in all honesty, we're worried too. The cops haven't found out much themselves yet, and are just ruling things a missing persons case..."

Nanami stares for a moment before speaking up once more. "I haven't really heard anything new that you two wouldn't already know, but I have heard that people have seen a mysterious, winged creature at night recently. Like... it's humanoid shaped but it has wings? It's just like... wandering around and then it takes off flying into the night sky. It's just another silly Halloween rumor though, we get those every year."

Rose blinks. It sounds like nonsense but perhaps she should remember this for later, just in case. "Thank you, Nanami-san. Sorry for the questions, we didn't mean to make you uneasy."

"Oh, it's ok. You two have fun, ok? Don't separate! Safety in numbers!"

"Right."

Kazuno gazes among the crowd, eyes narrowing, her sister giving her a confused stare. "I can't see the end of the horizon."

"HATSUNE MIKU!?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Gosh if I haven't been using pose data for the majority of the pics today I wouldn't even be halfway done with this post.

Shanna and Rose models: Me

Kazuno and Kazeko models: Kazekothestrange

Kikumi model: caffeinated-chaos-bean

Miku model: TDA and Nito164

Stage: はぎの

Skydome: MMDAnimatio357

Effects:

Autoluminous4 and SvSSAO: Sovoro

Pixeledgeblur: Otamon

Dream Shader: Ianami

Kazu, Kaz, Sha, and Ro's poses: MijumaruNr1

Miku's poses: MMDMikuxLen

[oddcryptidwrites]

Knight of Dawn: Chapter 1 [Not Your Typical Fairytale]

Content below the cut!

Cheerful elevator music filled the space, although it didn't drown out the pounding of Piers' heart. The glowing red numbers on the screen ticked down, as their anxiety ticked up. The cotton of their gloves was already sticking to their hands, and they prayed the sweat wouldn't turn the white fabric yellow. Looking at themself in the mirrored doors, Piers raked their hair back one last time and let out a sigh. The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open with a painful whine. The entry hall was empty, save for Grady who stood by the heavy double doors leading to the Great Hall. She ushered them over with an urgent gesture, the worry on her face making her look a little older than she was.

“Hi.” Piers hurried over and hugged her briefly, before stepping back to smooth out their jacket. Grady relaxed a little, cracking a smile. “Good luck, Princess.”

Laughing weakly, Piers shoved Grady slightly, “Won’t be one for much longer, Commander.”

The tease earned them a playful smack on the shoulder, before Grady grew serious again. “You’re going to do great, Piers. Heads up, feet firm on the ground. Don’t let them convince you that you aren’t capable. You know exactly what to do.”

Pushing their shoulders back, Piers titled their head slightly upwards, feeling the ground firm beneath their feet. No tripping on the carpet this time. No missing a step onto the stage.

“I will be right here for you. Always.” Grady pulled one of the elaborate wooden doors open, and an awful creak reverberated through the cavernous hall. Piers’ shoes clicked on the tile as they stepped into the Great Hall, echoing lightly, before being damped by the soft red carpet. The small audience up front turned to watch them, hateful glares boring into their soul. Piers kept their eyes forwards. The murmurs and whispers filled their ears, but Piers refused to listen. They didn’t matter right now.

If Adele could do this, so could they.

Guards, dressed in the same dark gray and green as Grady, stood along the aisle, between the audience and Piers. They snapped to attention as Piers passed, bringing their right first to their chest, holding ceremonial rifles still in their left. Grady stood behind them, guarding the doors and watching their back, like always. Unlike the others, she carried a pistol, hidden but loaded and ready to fire. Unlike the others, she was there to protect them, not for display.

Someone in the audience scoffed as Piers approached the front of the room, daring to speak louder than the others.

“Bastard.”

Councilor Mason. Piers glanced towards the council, spotting her sitting there with her arms crossed over chest, trying to seem bored out of her mind.

Their foot caught on the carpet. 

Piers stumbled a little, but straightened themself and refocused on the task at hand. Finally, after a deep breath, they met the stare of the Chief Councilor, Shanna Miles, more bitter than the rest. Hundreds of eyes followed them as they stepped up the few stairs onto the stage, back stiff and posture perfect.

Unlike Adele’s coronation, the gilded throne had been put away. It was only them and Councilor Miles, for everyone to see. A royal coronation without a throne, it was a show that Adele’s era of royal opulence and questionable policy had come to an end.

Piers came to stand beside Councilor Miles, before turning stiffly to face the audience head on. In her bare hands, she held the original copy of the modern Constitution, a thick, leather bound book.. She began to recite her lines, voice amplified by the tiny microphone clipped to the collar of her shirt. 

“Princess Jillian Piers Hall, youngest child of Queen Adele Paris Hall, shall be the next Monarch of the State of Georgia, representative to the former Union, as per the birthright clause established in the September Constitution of 2097.”

Piers and Councilor Miles turned inward to face one another, and she continued to speak, this time directly to them.

“I ask you on behalf of all your citizens of the Seven Zones and Rising Settlements, will you enact your birthright and take the crown and all responsibilities which come with her?” Her voice was level and calm, but anger simmered just below the surface. And, that angry twitch in her left eye was back.

Piers hesitated to respond for just a moment. They could deny it, could give it all up. But, Piers had plans. Big ones. Good ones, to fix their mother’s mistakes. They had people relying on them, expecting them to fix everything that was broken.

“I will enact my birthright as the child of Queen Adele Paris Hall, and take the crown and her responsibility.” Piers responded. Fingers twitching anxiously, Piers carefully pulled off their white gloves, slipping them into their pocket. They rested both hands on the book, left on top of right.

“Then, Princess Hall, do you swear to serve the people within the Seven Zones and Rising settlements, to the best of your ability?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to preserve the security and integrity of the Seven Zones and Rising Settlements, at all costs?”

“I do.”

For several minutes, this call and response went on. Councilor Miles and Piers had put up with each other for a record amount of time to memorize each line. It had been hell on earth but it had to be perfect. Finally, finally, the time came.

“Please kneel on the stage and face the people whom you will serve.”

Following script, Piers turned to face the small crowd, primarily Council members and high Palace staff. Marcie, from the front row, gave them a comforting nod as they kneeled carefully on the stage. 

Bare hands in their lap and their head slightly bowed, they closed their eyes and tried to breathe. Miles’ voice, even though she stood right next to them, wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the pounding of their heart. The modest crown weighed nothing, as she placed it upon their head. Then, Piers lifted their head, opening their eyes. They recited something from memory, something they couldn’t properly understand at the moment. Miles placed a hand on their shoulder, speaking once more, before allowing them to rise to their feet. 

Looking out over the audience, Piers held their breath. There was no clapping, no cheering, just silent stares from both friends and foes alike. They stood in Adele’s shadow, be what that may be for everyone in the audience. People had assumptions about them and Piers knew there was nothing else they could say or do at that moment to change those assumptions.

And with nothing to say, they stepped off the stage, leaving Councilor Miles behind. It was only then the audience reacted, some beginning to taunt, to sneer, to rise to their feet while others tried to defend them. The Royal Guard lining the aisle held in their seats, as Piers tried not to listen. Grady let them slip out of the Grand Hall, before shutting the doors and the voices out behind them with a resounding thud. The sudden silence was deafening.

“We need to go.” With a hand on their shoulder, she pushed them towards the elevator, then punched the button for their shared floor. As the doors slid closed, she bumped her wrist against the scanner, and the elevator began to ascend. Sighing, Piers slid down the wall, pulling the small crown off their head. The silver one had gone missing years ago. They polished Miles’ fingerprints off the dingy metal, before looking to Grady, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Piers, you just walked off the stage! People were expecting you to at least say something! You can’t say people don’t like you when you don’t give them a reason to like you!” She squatted in front of them, brushing the hair out of their eyes.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t think of anything.”

Grady scoffed, “Couldn’t think of anything, my ass! You can run your mouth for hours about military strategy or old-age movies or the political state of fucking Ohio but you couldn’t think of anything to say.”

Piers brought their knees to their chest, trying to hide, “I just…it’s different when it comes to this stuff. I’m not good with people and I didn’t take my meds because Dr. Panya forgot to order them, by the way.” 

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened, revealing their hallway. Sighing, Grady pulled Piers to their feet. “I’ll shut up about it, alright?”

“Please. I thought I was going to die there from a goddamn heart attack. I don’t know how mom ever did it. Plus Miles? She was up my ass before this and she’ll be up my ass afterwards. Plus I gotta fix whatever she broke between Mom’s abdication and today.” They stepped out of the elevator together, and Grady bumped their shoulder.

“Speaking of, you should go visit Adele. She’d appreciate it. You don’t know how much longer she’s going to be around.” Grady held her hand out, “Gloves?”

Piers pulled their white gloves out of their pocket, handing them to Grady, “Knowing her, she’s going to outlive me, even with her spiral. I’m surprised Dr. Panya still hasn’t figured out what’s going on with her.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. She is the most stubborn person ever. In the whole world.” Folding the gloves, Grady stopped them at their door, “Mask. Lean forward.”

Piers leaned forward, letting her catch her fingertips under the stiff gray material of the half-mask. It made an awful peeling noise as she pried it from their sweaty face, where it stuck to the scars. The string messed up their hair, and they flipped their head over, shaking it out. Grady tried to smooth it back, but they swatted her hand away.

“It matches me. A hot mess.”  Pushing open their door, they spotted the respirator and winter gloves sitting by the window, carefully placed to remind them- “Shit, I promised Lennox I’d visit him today.”

Grady rubbed her temple, taking a deep breath, “You’ve got two hours. Marcie is going to be up here in an hour or so and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep her in the dark about you sneaking out now.”

“You’re the best.” Piers grinned, giving her a hug, “I’ll be back safe before you know it, I promise.”

“You better.”

NYTF WIP PAGE

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