#V: This is how liberty dies

[toastysol]

Is anyone else a little insane about how many times v tells songbird "this is the homestretch" in other words "just a couple more steps cmon"

[freedcmscall]

tag dump

[kckt88]

Sanguis.

Summary:

'Hell is empty and all the devils are here' - William Shakespeare.

Deep in his grief over the loss of his wife Aemond desperately seeks the help of a wood witch and his wife is returned to him, but he ignores the witches warning and soon he is confronted with the horror of what his sweet wife has become.

Warning(s): Character Death, Resurrections, Language, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving) Fingering, Anal Play, P in V, Blood, Gore, Death.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 9352

A.N - I have taken a few creative liberties, I hope you don't mind!!

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.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

Prince Aemond Targaryen, in utter despair, knelt before his wife's linen-wrapped body. The cold stone floor of the Red Keep felt like ice against his knees, but he barely noticed.

 His eye, red and swollen from endless weeping, stared at the lifeless form of his beloved wife Y.N.

The once proud and fierce prince was now a broken man. His love, his light, had been taken from this world in an act of violence that left his heart shattered.

Y.N had fought valiantly, her courage unmatched as she defended his niece and nephew against the assassins who had snuck into the Red Keep.

They sought vengeance for Aemond's involvement in the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and they had found it in the blood of his beloved.

Y.N had been gravely injured in the attack, and despite his desperate efforts to save her, she had died in his arms. Aemond could still feel the weight of her body as her life slipped away, her final breath a haunting whisper against his skin.

Since her death, Aemond's world had ended. His life had unravelled, leaving only a dark void where Y.N's love and care had once been.

Aside from Vhagar, Y.N had been the only good thing he had in this world. She had loved him, truly and deeply, and now she was gone.

Aemond's heart ached with a pain he had never known possible. The thought of living without her was unbearable. He couldn't live without her. He didn't want to.

His hands, trembling with grief, reached out to touch the linen shroud, his fingers tracing the outline of her face beneath the fabric. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please come back to me."

He prayed to the gods, his pleas a desperate litany of sorrow and longing. He begged and pleaded, tears streaming down his face, but the gods remained silent.

The chamber was filled with his cries, the raw agony of a man who had lost everything.

"Y.N, my love," he sobbed, his head bowing low. "What am I to do without you? How am I to live in this world without your light?"

The silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room a stark reminder of her absence. Aemond's shoulders shook with the force of his grief, his tears falling unheeded onto the cold stone floor.

Aemond clung to her shrouded form, his despair a heavy shroud of its own. The pain of her loss was a constant, gnawing ache, a wound that would never heal.

He had lost his love, his heart, and without her, he was nothing. He was lost in a world that had turned cold and dark, and he saw no way forward.

As the hours passed, Aemond remained by her side, his silent vigil a testament to the depth of his love and the vastness of his grief. He was a prince, a dragon rider, a warrior—but in this moment, he was simply a man who had lost everything that mattered.

His face pressed against the linen shroud that covered her still form. His tears soaked through the fabric, mingling with the last remnants of her scent.

"There has to be a way," he murmured, his voice choked with desperation. "There has to be a way to bring you back."

In the depths of his despair, a thought flickered to life. If dragons existed in this world, great and fearsome beasts of legend, then surely bringing someone back from the dead wasn't entirely out of bounds. He clung to that thought, a fragile thread of hope in the overwhelming darkness.

Then, through the haze of his sorrow, he remembered the rumours. Whispers among the common folk spoke of a witch in the woods, a woman with skills beyond the natural world.

He had heard the stories many times, often dismissing them as mere tales meant to scare small children and the weak of mind. But now, he was desperate. He had to try. If the gods would not return Y.N to him, then perhaps this witch could.

Aemond's heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. He lifted his tear-streaked face from Y.N's body, his eye filled with a fierce resolve. "I will find her," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I will bring you back, my love. I swear it."

As night fell over the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen moved with a grim determination. He waited until the shadows were deepest and the guards at their most inattentive.

Silently, he lifted Y.N's body into his arms. Every step was a careful manoeuvre to avoid detection, every breath a silent prayer that they remain unseen.

Once outside, he managed to secure her onto a horse, cradling her close as he pulled a heavy cloak over her still form. The hood of his own cloak was drawn up to conceal his identity. Aemond whispered a command, and the horse began to move, carrying them through the dimly lit streets of King's Landing.

The city was quiet at this hour, the usual bustle of life replaced by the eerie stillness of night. Aemond kept Y.N close, his arms wrapped protectively around her, as he navigated the winding streets. The walls of the city soon gave way to the open fields and the looming darkness of the Kingswood beyond.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond urged the horse into the woods, leaving the path behind. The trees closed in around them, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decay.

The forest was a living thing, filled with the sounds of rustling leaves, the occasional screech of a raven, and the haunting hoots of owls.

Time lost meaning as he pressed onward, each step taking him deeper into the unknown. The forest seemed to go on forever, an endless labyrinth of shadow and sound.

Just as despair began to gnaw at the edges of his resolve, he came upon a muddy bog, its surface broken by the stark silhouettes of wooden crosses.

Ahead, a small wooden dwelling came into view, covered in moss and illuminated by the flickering glow of candlelight through a cracked window. Relief surged through Aemond, giving him the strength to dismount. He secured the horse's reins to a nearby pole, ensuring Y.N was still concealed beneath the cloak.

With a deep breath, he approached the door. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it to knock, but the door creaked open of its own accord.

He peered inside, the air thick with a nauseating odour. "Hello?" he called out softly. "Is anyone here?"

The room was dim, lit only by a few guttering candles. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bottles of various coloured liquids. The severed remains of animals lay strewn about, adding to the grim tableau. Aemond's eye scanned the room, taking in every detail.

A noise outside made him spin around. A hooded figure stood in the doorway, their presence almost spectral in the candlelight.

The figure's voice was a rasping whisper, "Welcome, Prince Aemond."

Aemond stood before the hooded figure, the words he had rehearsed tumbling from his lips. "I have come because—"

The witch interrupted him, her voice a rasping whisper that cut through the gloom. "I know why you are here, Prince Aemond. You seek to defy death and bring back your lost love."

He swallowed hard, his grip on Y.N's body tightening. "I need her back. I cannot live without her."

The witch's eyes gleamed with an unsettling light. "Such a thing comes at a great cost," she warned, her voice echoing in the small, dimly lit room.

"I don't care," Aemond replied, his desperation evident. "As long as Y.N is alive, that's all that matters."

The witch laughed, a sound that was almost a cackle. "The young prince does not realize what he asks for," she muttered, running a sharp blackened fingernail down his arm.

"I have no patience for your ramblings," he snapped, his tone hardening.

The witch's laughter echoed again. "Very well. I will need the body."

Aemond nodded, turning to retrieve Y.N. But as he moved, a sudden darkness overcame him, a moment where he seemed to black out.

When he came back to himself, he was confused to see Y.N already laid out on the table, her form bathed in the eerie candlelight.

"How...?" he began, but the witch cut him off again.

"Y.N must be free of her shroud," she said, her voice brooking no argument.

"No," Aemond protested, but the witch's eyes were firm.

"It must be done."

Reluctantly, Aemond took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. The witch drew a small, sharp knife and began to cut away the linen, the fabric parting with a soft, tearing sound. As the shroud fell away, Y.N's face was revealed, pale and serene in death.

Aemond let out a small sob, his gaze locked on his wife's visage. She looked as if she were merely sleeping, but the cold reality of her lifelessness tore at his heart.

The witch moved with a slow, deliberate purpose, her hands deft and sure as she completed her grim task. "Be warned, little Prince," she said softly. "She may return in body, but she will not be the wife you remember. She will be-more."

"I don't care," Aemond whispered, his voice breaking. "I just need her back."

The witch's laughter rang out once more, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Aemond's spine. "Very well”

Aemond watched with bated breath as the witch moved with an unsettling grace. She snipped a lock of Y.N's hair, the strands glinting like spun gold in the dim candlelight and tossed it into the fire.

The flames roared briefly, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Aemond's stomach churned as the witch opened Y.N's mouth and poured in a dark, lumpy, foul-smelling liquid. The stench was nearly unbearable, and he had to stifle a gag.

The witch then took her knife and cut open Y.N's cotton shift. Aemond gasped, his eye widening in horror as he saw the knife wound that had taken his wife's life.

A tear slipped down his cheek, his heart breaking anew. The witch began muttering in a language he did not understand, her voice a low, rhythmic chant that seemed to make the very air around them vibrate.

As she chanted, the candles in the room all flared to life, their flames burning impossibly bright for a moment before everything went silent. The oppressive stillness was broken only by Aemond's ragged breathing.

"Is that it?" he asked, his voice trembling.

The witch shook her head and handed him a shovel. "She needs to be buried."

Aemond recoiled, anger flaring. "No! I brought her here to bring her back, not to bury her."

The witch's eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous. "You brought Y.N here, and now you will listen to what I say, or she will be lost to you forever. Choose a spot and dig."

Reluctantly, Aemond took the shovel and stepped out into the pouring rain. The sky had opened up, the deluge soaking him to the bone as he dug.

Mud clung to his boots and splattered his cloak, each shovel full of earth feeling like a betrayal. The witch stood silently, watching him with an inscrutable expression.

When the hole was deep enough, the witch commanded him to stop. Filthy and wet, Aemond threw the shovel to the ground and trudged back into the cabin. He lifted Y.N's body into his arms, holding her close one last time as he carried her outside. He hesitated at the edge of the grave, his heart shattering. Gently, he kissed her forehead before laying her in the hole.

"Now you need to finish it," the witch said. "Cover her with earth."

Aemond wept openly as he followed her instructions, each scoop of mud feeling like it was tearing pieces from his soul. He watched in despair as Y.N disappeared beneath the earth, the finality of it almost too much to bear.

When she was fully buried, he threw the shovel down, his hands trembling.

"Leave," the witch commanded. "Return to the Red Keep. Three sunrises, three sunsets, and she will come."

Aemond's grief turned to anger. "If you are lying, I will return with fire and blood."

The witch cackled, a chilling sound. "I do not fear you, one-eyed prince. I have been alive much longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that."

"What are you?" he demanded, his voice a mixture of awe and revulsion.

"You will find out soon enough, little prince," she replied, disappearing back into the cabin.

Aemond's gaze lingered on the freshly turned earth where Y.N was buried. His heart ached with every beat, the rain mingling with his tears. He mounted his horse and rode away, each step feeling heavier than the last as he made his way back to the Red Keep, hope and dread warring within him.

For the next two nights, Aemond was plagued by relentless nightmares. As he lay in his bed, his dreams were twisted and cruel, reflecting the torment that consumed his waking hours.

He would hear Y.N's voice calling out to him, her tone filled with desperation and pain. In his dreams, he would stand over the grave where he had buried her, only to see her clawing her way out, her skin decayed and peeling, maggots writhing over her rotting form.

The witch's cackle echoed through the trees, mingling with the foul stench of the dark, lumpy liquid she had poured into Y.N's throat.

The warning that Y.N would come back different gnawed relentlessly at his thoughts, a constant reminder of the grave mistake he had made.

With no body to bury, Aemond had been forced to lie to those around him. He had claimed that Y.N’s body had been burned by Vhagar in accordance with her wishes. The lie was a heavy burden, one that gnawed at him as he faced the mourners.

He could not tell them the truth of what he had done, the truth of the witch's promise and the body now rotting beneath the earth.

As the third day approached, Aemond waited anxiously by his chamber window. His heart leaped with every sound, every time someone entered his quarters, hoping against hope that Y.N had returned to him.

Each time he was met with bitter disappointment, the empty space only deepening his sorrow. The nights were the worst, filled with anguish as he wrestled with the realization that he had been manipulated by the witch. His beloved was lying in the earth, her body decomposing, and he felt like a fool for believing in the witch’s promises.

As night fell on the third day, Aemond sat alone in his darkened chamber, tears streaming down his face. The weight of his grief and anger felt unbearable.

The realization that he had been deceived by the witch filled him with a cold, bitter rage. He vowed to himself that on the morrow, he would return to the witch. He would make her pay for her treachery.

He lay down in bed, his heart heavy with both sorrow and fury. As he drifted into an uneasy sleep, his mind was consumed with visions of vengeance. The image of the witch’s mocking face and her cruel laughter fuelled his determination. He would make her suffer for what she had done.

Aemond was jolted from a restless sleep by a gentle, touch against his face.

His heart raced as he opened his eye, the darkness of the chamber slowly revealing a form sitting on the edge of his bed. It was Y.N, or at least someone who looked like her. For a moment, he thought it was a dream, a cruel twist of his imagination.

But then she spoke his name, her voice a soft, hollow echo in the dim light. "Aemond-"

His breath caught in his throat as he sat up in bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He reached out with trembling hands and pulled her close.

Her body was cold and filthy, covered in layers of grime and dirt, but it was undeniably her. Y.N had come back to him, just as the witch had said she would. The realization was almost too much to bear.

Aemond's tears flowed freely as he held her tightly. "I never thought I'd see you again," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I had lost you forever."

Y.N's eyes, though sunken and haunted, met his with a glimmer of recognition. She placed a muddy finger gently against his lips, silencing him. "Shush," she said softly. "I will never leave you again."

Her words, though whispered and tinged with the rot of death, were a balm to his shattered soul. He clung to her, his tears wetting her dirty clothes.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, determined to cherish this second chance, even as the haunting reality of the witch's promise lingered in the back of his mind.

Aemond’s hands trembled with both anticipation and fear as he summoned the maids to prepare a hot bath. The sight of Y.N’s return was a beacon of hope, but he wanted to ensure that no one discovered her presence before he was ready.

He instructed them to fill the tub with steaming water, their murmurs of surprise and curiosity ignored as he hurried them along.

Once the bath was prepared, Aemond dismissed the maids, locking the door behind them. The chamber was now a private sanctuary, his heart racing as he approached Y.N, who waited patiently on the balcony.

“Come inside,” he called softly, his voice a mixture of tenderness and urgency. Y.N stepped into the room, her presence a stark contrast to the grim reality of her appearance.

Despite the dirt and grime, she moved with a grace that reminded him of the woman he had loved.

“I’ve had a bath prepared for you,” Aemond said, trying to mask his anxiety with a comforting tone. Her eyes brightened at his words, and a faint smile touched her lips. She began to remove her filthy cotton shift, revealing her pale, cold skin.

As she climbed into the bath, Aemond took a stool beside it, his gaze never leaving her. The warm water enveloped her, and he gently began to help her wash away the layers of dirt and muck. His fingers moved through her hair, carefully dispelling the mud that clung to it.

Y.N looked at him with gratitude, but as he tended to her, Aemond couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in her. The knife wound on her side had healed into a scar, and despite the hot water, her skin remained unnervingly cold, and her eyes seemed different—lighter in colour, almost ethereal.

He tried to dismiss these unsettling observations, focusing instead on the joy of her presence. “I’ll help you clean up,” he said softly. “The maids won’t assist. I want to be the one to help you.”

Y.N nodded, her expression one of quiet acceptance. “Thank you, Aemond,” she said, her voice carrying a faint echo of the life she once had.

Aemond continued to wash her with careful attention, his heart aching with a mixture of relief and sorrow. He scrubbed away the dirt, the water turning murky with the remnants of her previous state.

Despite the lingering strangeness of her appearance and the coldness of her skin, he was overwhelmed by the joy of having her back.

He told himself that it didn’t matter—that she was back, and that was all that mattered.

Aemond carefully helped Y.N out of the bath and dried her with gentle, attentive hands. The contrast between her cold, damp skin and the warmth of the towel was stark, but he did his best to make her comfortable.

He selected a clean nightgown, soft and fresh, and helped her into it, adjusting the delicate fabric to fall gracefully around her.

Aemond led her to the bed, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions. Y.N sat down and, as he moved to adjust the bedding, she reached for the laces on his breeches. Aemond’s breath caught, and he gently stopped her, his gaze searching hers with concern.

“Y.N,” he said softly, “you don’t have to—”

But she looked up at him with a pleading expression, her voice low and earnest. “But I want too, I love you.”

Aemond felt his resolve wavering as Y.N’s hands resuming unlacing his breeches, letting them fall to the floor once they were undone.

She pressed a series of tender kisses to his bare stomach, her lips brushing against his skin.

Aemond closed his eye and let out a low groan as he felt her teeth grazing against him.

Then Y.N removed her nightgown and lay back on the bed, her bare body on display, she reached out for him and pulled him on the bed.

“Let me take care of you” muttered Y.N as she placed kisses along Aemond jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down gently.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does issa Valzȳrys like that?” asked Y.N as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My husband).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

When she reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please my love).

“Ao līs umbagon issa zaldrīzes” replied Y.N (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond stared down at his naughty wife, his mouth hanging open as Y.N’s warm, wet mouth quickly wrapped around the head of his cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N moved and engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth again, he squeezed his eye shut. She was driving him crazy.

But Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he needed to watch as his wife sucked his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

Then she moved her other hand over his stones, caressing them before she slid one of her fingers towards his hole.

“F-Fuck” moaned Aemond as she gently massaged over the tight ring of muscle.

“Do you like that raqiarzy?” asked Y.N (Beloved).

“Y-Yes” exclaimed Aemond.

“What about this?” asked Y.N as she put a finger into her mouth and then returned it to his hole before she gently slid the tip of her finger in.

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

“More?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please. M-More” groaned Aemond.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her finger slowly moved inside him.

“Another-p-put another inside me” begged Aemond his body rocking against her.

Y.N smiled and gently added another and Aemond began to whimper as she curled her fingers inside him.

“Shit-Y.N. I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond as Y.N removed her fingers from him and wiped them on her night gown.

“Are you sure” asked Y.N.

“Sit on my fucking face” ordered Aemond, his cock already twitching with interest.

Y.N hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Y.N’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

“Ooooh A-Aemond” shrieked Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it baby, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Y.N was giving off a slew of whispered swear words, moans, and pleas.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond.

Finally, he felt Y.N’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Y.N’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she came.

After a few minutes, Aemond gently urged his wife to move down, so she was hovering above his cock.

Her hand wrapped around him, running the head of his cock along her warm wet folds.

“Your such a tease” moaned Aemond as his hips jerked involuntarily.

But it feels so good” replied Y.N as she slowly sunk down on his cock, so only the tip of him was inside her.

“P-Please” whimpered Aemond.

“Uh-uh” said Y.N shaking her head from side to side.

After a few torturous minutes Aemond couldn’t take it anymore and seized his wife’s hips, before surging up and ploughing his hard cock into her soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Y.N.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Y.N, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“P-Please. Husband” whined Y.N as Aemond began teasing her pearl with his thumb.

“That’s it-take all of me”

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Y.N Aemond began to move.

"Faster, please" begged Y.N.

“Like this?” replied Aemond as he gave a quick deep thrust.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Y.N.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Y.N" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Y.N "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me”.

Aemond knew exactly what Y.N was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Y.N wanted faster and he was going much faster now, his feet planted on the bed to give him more leverage and his pace increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips as he pounded into her.

“Aemond-I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Y.N.

Y.N always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

“I’m going to spill my seed inside you-”

“Y-Yes A-Aemond. Give it to me” whined Y.N as she clamped down around his cock so hard he could hardly move.

That, combined with how glorious Y.N looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Y.N” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside his wife’s wet heat.

Over the next few weeks, Aemond observed a series of peculiar changes in Y.N's behaviour that left him increasingly uneasy.

Despite the fact that she only slept intermittently for a few hours at a time, she seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy.

Her insatiable hunger was another alarming sign. She complained constantly of being hungry, and her cravings were mostly for meat, often served barely cooked.

Aemond watched with a mix of fascination and concern as she devoured the meat with her bare hands, the juices and blood staining her fingers, her appetite seemingly endless.

Confined to his chambers, Y.N was shielded from the public eye, which allowed Aemond some measure of control. However, his duties often required him to be away from her, leaving her alone for extended periods.

This solitude seemed to agitate her, and more than once, he returned to find evidence of her growing frustration.

Her rage manifested in destructive outbursts—on one occasion, she hurled a chair across the room, and on another, she seized a table and smashed it into splinters. The sheer strength she displayed was unnerving, an indication of the profound changes she had undergone.

Another change was her unrelenting desire for intimacy. Her needs were voracious and unceasing, demanding more of him than he could give.

Initially, Aemond had been willing to indulge her, and he would often place himself between her thighs fucking her into the mattress with deep penetrating thrusts, his hips pounding against hers.

But he soon found himself exhausted and overwhelmed by her constant, almost insatiable demands. The frequency of her advances became a source of physical and emotional strain.

The situation became even more complicated with his mother's growing concern. She had noticed his seclusion and questioned him about his well-being.

Aemond had claimed he was still grieving Y.N’s loss, but when word of the noises of pleasure from his chambers reached her ears, he was forced to concoct another lie. He explained that he had taken a bed mate to help with his needs, an excuse that seemed to placate her but left her visibly dissatisfied.

As the days went on, Aemond's anxiety about Y.N's behaviour continued to mount. He was troubled by the physical and emotional changes she was exhibiting, which seemed to reflect more than mere grief or trauma.

Her behaviour was increasingly erratic, and despite his deep love for her, he couldn't ignore the growing fear that something was fundamentally wrong, that the witch was right, and Y.N had returned to him, but she was forever changed.

Aemond returned to his chambers from a gruelling council meeting, his mind heavy with the complexities of court politics. The relief of finally being back in his private quarters was short-lived as he pushed open the door.

The sight that met him was one of sheer horror. Y.N was kneeling on the floor, her focus intently fixed on a cat she had captured. The small creature was held in her hands, and Aemond’s stomach lurched as he saw her face pressed against its neck.

Blood ran freely down her hands, dripping onto the floor as she seemed oblivious to the mess she was making.

Y.N looked up at him, her expression eerily serene despite the gruesome scene. Her smile was unsettling, her teeth stained red with the blood she had drawn.

The sight of her grinning so contentedly, with the blood smearing her face, was almost too much for Aemond to bear.

He put a hand over his mouth, struggling to stifle a scream that threatened to escape. His heart pounded violently, a mix of revulsion and profound distress flooding his senses.

He had to stop himself from throwing up as he watched her return her attention to the lifeless animal, her actions methodical and disturbingly calm.

The room seemed to spin around him as he took a shaky step forward, his mind racing to process what he was actually witnessing.

“Aemond,” she said softly, her voice oddly gentle despite the blood. “You’re back.”

Her tone was casual, as if nothing was amiss. The cat, now lifeless, lay discarded on the floor as Y.N’s attention was fully on him, her eyes reflecting a strange, unsettling light.

Aemond struggled to maintain control, his eyes fixed on Y.N. “What-what have you done?” he managed to croak out, his voice trembling with fear and anger.

Y.N tilted her head, a hint of confusion crossing her features. “I was hungry,” she said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be consuming blood-soaked prey.

The scene was nightmarish, the blood and death starkly contrasting with the once-beautiful woman he had loved.

Aemond returned to his chambers after a long flight with Vhagar, hoping the time in the sky would offer some solace and clarity. But as he entered his quarters, a sinking feeling overtook him—Y.N was not there.

“Y.N!” he called out, his voice echoing off the walls. When there was no answer, panic seized him. He had to find her quickly. The risk of anyone discovering her before he was ready was too great.

His mind raced through the places Y.N had frequented before her death. He checked the gardens, the library, and even the secluded spots she had loved, but there was no sign of her.

His anxiety grew, and he began to consider revealing everything to his mother, admitting the truth about what had happened. But he knew that would only lead to further complications.

As he made his way towards his mother’s chambers, his gaze fell on the nursery door, slightly ajar. His heart skipped a beat. He approached cautiously and peered inside. The sight that greeted him was one of utter horror.

Y.N stood over his niece Jaehaera, who was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Y.N leaned down, sniffing the child with a disturbing sense of satisfaction. Her eyes were closed as she hummed softly, an eerie contentment on her face. Aemond’s blood ran cold.

Without a moment's hesitation, he burst into the room, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and fury. He grabbed Y.N and pulled her away from the bed, her surprised eyes meeting his with an unsettling calm.

He dragged her back to his chambers, the fear of what she might have done fuelling his desperation.

Once inside his chambers, he shoved Y.N against the wall and locked the door behind them. His rage boiled over. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” he roared, his voice trembling with anger.

Y.N’s head tilted to the side; her expression serene despite the chaos. “I was hungry,” she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Aemond’s heart ached with a mix of horror and helplessness. “You can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “Jaehaera is a child! She’s innocent!”

Y.N’s gaze grew distant, a shadow of pain crossing her face. “So was I when those men took my life,” she said quietly, her voice a haunting whisper. “I pretend not to remember, but it’s a lie. I remember everything—the screaming, the feel of the knife, the pain. I remember how you cried as you held me.”

“I didn’t bring you back for this,” said Aemond, his voice broken. “I brought you back because I love you, not for you to inflict more pain”

Y.N’s eyes met his with a mix of sorrow and resignation. “I don’t know how to control it,” she said softly. “I’m lost between what I was and what I am now. I feel the hunger and I can’t stop it.”

Aemond’s heart wavered, torn between his love for Y.N and the horror of her actions. As he stood there, the weight of his decisions pressed heavily upon him, he was left to grapple with the reality of the woman he had brought back and the darkness that now accompanied her presence.

Ever since the horrific incident with Jaehaera, Aemond had thrown himself into a desperate search for answers. He scoured the library for any information on what Y.N had become, hoping to find a way to restore her to her former self.

But the search yielded nothing. With a heavy heart, he resigned himself to seeking out the witch once more, a decision he made reluctantly but with a steely resolve. This time, he brought Vhagar with him.

As Aemond approached the cabin in the woods, Vhagar's imposing form loomed behind him, her massive hole ridden wings partially unfurled. His gaze was drawn momentarily to the disturbed earth where he had buried Y.N.

The ground still bore the marks of the grave, a grotesque reminder of the events that had transpired.

He reached the cabin and, not bothering to knock, pushed open the creaky door. The stench that greeted him was overwhelming, a foul mixture of decay and herbs. He pressed a gloved hand to his mouth to stifle the urge to retch as he stepped inside.

The witch was bent over a wooden bench, engrossed in her work. Her blackened hands were busy with a collection of severed fingers on a chopping board.

The sight was nauseating, but Aemond’s focus was solely on her.

“What exactly have you done to Y.N?” he demanded, his voice taut with fury.

The witch looked up; her eyes gleaming with malevolent amusement. “I did only what you asked,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Aemond’s anger flared. “You brought her back. Now you will fix her. She is not the woman I knew.”

The witch’s laughter was harsh and grating. “It doesn’t work like that, little prince. You got what you asked for, and now you must deal with it.”

“I wanted Y.N back, not whatever monstrosity she has become!” Aemond’s voice was a roar of frustration and anguish.

The witch’s eyes narrowed, and her laughter took on a mocking edge. “Can’t the little prince handle his wife?” she taunted, her voice dripping with scorn.

Enraged, Aemond lunged at the witch, grabbing her by the throat with a fierce grip. “Help her, or I swear I’ll make you pay for this,” he growled.

The witch’s reaction was swift and inhumanly strong. With a casual flick of her wrist, she removed Aemond’s hand from her throat, and sent him sprawling across the room. He collided with a shelf, bottles crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass.

Dazed and pain-stricken, Aemond struggled to his feet, his heart racing with both pain and rage. The witch, her back turned, resumed her grim task with an air of detached indifference.

“You wanted this,” she said, her voice cold and unforgiving. “Now you will deal with the consequences and if you ever come here and threaten me again, I will peel the flesh from your bones and make a necklace from your teeth. But not before I’ve had my fun with your pretty cock.”

The threat was clear, and Aemond’s blood ran cold at the thought of what she was capable of. He took a moment to gather himself, the pain from the fall throbbing through his body, before he turned and exited the cabin.

As he made his way back to Vhagar, his thoughts were a tumult of anger and despair. The witch had given him no solutions.

He knew he had to find another way to deal with the changes in Y.N and the horror of what she had become, but for now, he was left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure and the looming dread of what might come next.

The weeks following Aemond's harrowing encounter with the witch were a blur of tension and despair. Struggling to come to terms with the monstrous transformation of Y.N and the cruel nature of the witch’s promises, he barely left her side.

He kept her confined within his chambers, only stepping out when absolutely necessary. Even then, his absences were brief, and every minute away from her felt like an eternity.

His grandsire, however, was relentless. Otto hounded him with increasing urgency about the necessity of remarriage.

The weight of forging new alliances and securing the family’s future was emphasized with every meeting, and the grief for Y.N, though real, was dismissed as something that had gone on long enough.

One evening, after yet another confrontation with Otto, Aemond stormed back to his chambers, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and anxiety. The old man’s command that Aemond would be presented with suitable candidates to choose from was a crushing blow.

The thought of having to select a new bride while Y.N was alive—albeit in her grotesque and altered state—was a nightmare he could not fathom.

The walls felt as though they were closing in on him, the weight of his predicament almost unbearable. His mind raced, desperately trying to find a solution that would allow him to avoid the marriage his grandsire demanded without revealing the disturbing truth about Y.N.

He thought of the witch’s warnings and the terror that awaited if he were to fail in his attempt to protect her. Revealing Y.N’s current condition was unthinkable; it would lead to scandal and potentially dire consequences.

The very idea of the court discovering her state, coupled with the fear of her harming someone else, was enough to keep him awake at night.

His thoughts turned to possible alternatives. What if he could delay the marriage indefinitely? He could claim to be in mourning for an extended period, though the lie would be difficult to maintain. Perhaps he could use the upcoming council meetings to argue that the timing was not suitable, citing the ongoing war as a reason for postponement.

Another possibility was to feign illness or some personal crisis that would require him to withdraw from the marriage arrangements temporarily. It was a tactic that could buy him some time, though it would only be a temporary solution.

In a moment of grim determination, Aemond resolved to buy as much time as he could. He would need to play the part of a grieving widower convincingly while he sought a more permanent solution. His heart ached at the thought of living a lie, but the reality of his situation left him with few choices.

Aemond’s heart raced as he approached his chambers, the echo of a piercing scream jolting him into a frantic sprint. Bursting through the door, he was met with a scene that froze him in sheer horror.

One maid lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around her and another maid, terrified and struggling, was held captive by Y.N.

Her face was stained with crimson, her eyes wide and frenzied. She seemed to be in a state of maddened ecstasy as she pressed her face into the terrified maid's neck. Aemond’s stomach churned as he saw her sniffing the bloodied neck, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

“Y.N!” Aemond’s voice was a desperate roar, filled with a mix of command and fear. “Let her go!”

Y.N turned her head slowly towards him, her expression twisted into a snarl. Her teeth, once gentle and familiar, were now elongated and pointed. She growled, a deep, guttural sound that chilled Aemond to the bone.

Ignoring his command, she continued to hold the maid in her grip. Aemond rushed forward, but as he reached to pull Y.N away, she flicked him aside as though he were a mere inconvenience.

He hit the floor with a painful thud, the impact jarring his senses. Pain exploded in his side, but he forced himself to look up, unable to tear his eye away from the horrifying scene.

Y.N's grip on the maid tightened, and with a sickening crunch, she sank her teeth into the maid’s neck. The maid's muffled screams were agonizing, but Y.N silenced her by pressing her bloody hand over the woman’s mouth, drinking greedily from the wound.

Aemond's mind reeled as he struggled to comprehend the abomination before him. He scrambled backwards, his heart pounding in terror.

He slumped against the wall, his hands trembling as he covered his ears to block out the horrid sounds. The blood-curdling noises were almost too much to bear.

After what felt like an eternity, Aemond felt a hand gently stroking his hair. He dared to open his eye, only to find Y.N crouching in front of him.

The sight of her was both disturbing and tragic. Blood smeared her face and neck, and her eyes, though still carrying a flicker of familiarity, were clouded with an unsettling hunger.

Aemond’s heart ached with an intense mixture of love and revulsion. This was not the Y.N he had mourned, not the woman he had once loved. The creature before him was a demon masquerading as his beloved wife, a perversion of everything he once held dear.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “This isn’t you. You’re not Y.N anymore.”

The resolve within him solidified. He could no longer deny the harsh truth that had been gnawing at him. This was no longer about saving the woman he loved; it was about ending the monstrous existence she had become.

Aemond stood up, his face a mask of grim determination. He had to end this, to put an end to the nightmare that had consumed his life. His heart was heavy, but his mind was set. He would not allow the demon that had taken Y.N’s form to continue its reign of terror.

The love he had for Y.N was overshadowed by the need to rid the world of this abomination. The time for mercy had passed.

Aemond's hands trembled as he undid his weapons belt, each movement deliberate but shaky. He drew his dagger, its cold steel gleaming under the flickering candlelight.

Turning to face Y.N, who was standing before him with an almost feral hunger in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "There’s no other way."

Y.N's gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes glinting with an unsettling mixture of recognition and menace. Aemond’s heart ached with every step he took toward the door. He shut it with a decisive click and turned the lock, the finality of the sound echoing in the confined space.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Aemond lunged forward. The dagger plunging into Y.N’s stomach. Her eyes widened in shock, and she gasped, staring down at the blade embedded in her flesh.

Aemond’s tears flowed freely as he watched the woman he had loved and lost collapse to the floor.

"I'm so sorry," he sobbed hysterically. "I’m so sorry."

Y.N's body quivered slightly, and she whispered in a trembling voice, "Issa vēzos se qēlossās"—. Her tears mingled with the blood staining her cheeks (My sun and stars).

After a few agonizing minutes, her movements stilled, her eyes fixed in a vacant stare.

Aemond slumped against the bed, his head in his hands, wracked with uncontrollable sobs. The weight of what he had done crushed him.

There would be no resurrection this time. The agony of his actions and the loss of Y.N was almost too much to bear. He would take her body far away, and Vhagar would incinerate it.

With a deep breath, Aemond wiped the tears from his face and stood up. The room was drenched in blood, and there was no way to cover it up without raising suspicions.

He began packing his belongings, moving with a sense of grim determination. He had enough gold from his princely allowance and could earn more if needed. The memories of the Red Keep and the pain of his actions were too heavy to bear; he would not return.

As he packed the last of his belongings, a shiver ran down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a primal warning of danger.

Before he could react, strong arms wrapped around his neck from behind, pulling him into a vice-like grip.

“Surely you didn’t think it was going to be that easy”

Aemond gasped, his eyes widening in horror. "Y.N? How?"

Y.N’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along his ear. "You should’ve aimed for the heart," she murmured.

Then a loud snapping sound echoed through the room, and Aemond’s world plunged into darkness.

The witch’s cabin was dimly lit by the flickering glow of candles and the smouldering embers in the hearth. The room smelled of incense and old wood, mixed with the acrid tang of blood.

The witch was busy at her workbench, her attention focused on a needle and thread as she wove together a macabre piece of jewellery. She glanced up with a twisted smile as the door to her cabin flew open with a loud creak.

“Do you like my necklace?” she asked with a note of dark pride, holding up a string adorned with a number of bloodied ears. The grotesque adornment swayed in the dim light, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Y.N, her eyes still gleaming with a predatory light, responded with a cold, detached tone. “It’s original.”

As Y.N stepped further into the cabin, she dropped Aemond’s lifeless body onto the table with a thud. The witch’s smile widened as she observed the body with interest, setting aside her needlework. She approached Aemond and gently brushed her blackened fingers across his cheek.

“Such a beautiful boy,” the witch mused, her voice almost tender as she examined him. Her gaze lingered on the eyepatch covering Aemond’s missing eye. With a deliberate motion, she pulled it off, revealing the sapphire in place of his missing eye.

“That’s much better,” she declared, admiring her work. Her eyes then travelled down to his ears. “He has good ears,” she noted, reaching for her knife with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

But before she could begin her work, Y.N stepped forward, her tone firm and unyielding. “No, he will not have any body parts severed. I’m rather fond of them, especially his cock”

The witch’s laugh was a harsh, rasping sound that filled the cabin. “And what do you want me to do with him then?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Y.N’s voice softened with a hint of longing as she replied, “Bring him back. I do not wish to be parted from my ‘Gēlenka zaldrīzes.” (Silver dragon).

“I need not warn you of the consequences of such a thing”

“I’m well aware of what he will become” replied Y.N

The witch’s eyes glittered with a dark amusement as she nodded in agreement. She snipped a lock of Aemond’s silver hair and threw it into the fire, watching as it curled and blackened.

She then poured a dark, lumpy liquid into his mouth, her movements precise and deliberate.

Next, she cut open Aemond’s leather tunic and placed her hand on his bare chest, whispering incantations in an ancient tongue. Her voice was a blend of reverence and authority as she beseeched the god of death to return life to him.

The witches breath was warm against Aemond’s ear as she bent down to whisper, “Your debt is now paid.”

Y.N was handed a shovel, and she chose the spot next to where she had been buried, beginning to dig with a determined fervour. The rain began to fall, soaking through her clothes and mixing with the soil as she worked.

Once the hole was deep enough, Y.N carefully placed Aemond’s body into it. The rain poured down, creating a muddy, bleak scene as she covered him with dirt.

When the last shovelful of earth had been placed, she wiped the rain from her face and went back inside the cabin, where the witch awaited her.

The witch stood by the fire, her demeanour calm and almost serene. “Three sunrises, three sunsets,” she intoned, her voice carrying a hint of finality. “And your love will return.”

Y.N’s eyes were filled with hope as she took in the witch’s words. She clutched the shovel tightly, her thoughts consumed with the promise of what lay ahead.

Three sunrises and three sunsets had nearly passed since Y.N took up her vigil at Aemond's grave. Her days were spent sitting on the wooden steps that led to the mound of soil, her gaze locked on the spot where she had buried him.

The heavy rain and the chill of the night did little to deter her from this self-imposed watch

The witch, who had taken to occasionally sitting with her, told Y.N stories of those who shared their condition. They were stories of distant lands and other beings who walked a path similar to hers.

The witch spoke of her origins in Pentos, and how she had journeyed to Westeros in 42 AC, a time long before the present.

When Y.N asked why she chose to remain alone in this desolate place rather than join her kin across the Narrow Sea, the witch’s answer was tinged with nostalgia. “This place has become home to me,” she said, her voice soft with a hint of sorrow.

During these conversations, Y.N learned that Aemond was not the only dragon to have transformed into one of them. The witch recounted tales of another, a figure of dark legend known as Maegor the Cruel, and her own past identity as The Lady of the Tower.

Y.N, her curiosity piqued, quietly muttered the name “Tyanna,” prompting a knowing smile from the witch.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time,” Tyanna admitted.

When Y.N inquired about what had become of Maegor, Tyanna’s eyes grew distant. “He died upon the Iron Throne,” she recounted, her voice a mixture of regret and admiration. “A blade pierced his back, striking his heart. History remembers him as a villain, and he did commit monstrous acts. But I loved him nonetheless.”

As the sun began to set on the third day, the sky painted in hues of orange and purple, Tyanna took Y.N’s hand in hers. “Never let go of Aemond,” she urged, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. “He may be a short-tempered young prince, but he has the potential to rise above such things.”

With that, Tyanna retreated to her cabin, leaving Y.N alone at the grave. The atmosphere was heavy, charged with a sense of finality and anticipation.

Then, the soil began to shift. Y.N’s heart raced as she watched a hand burst through the dirt, followed by an arm and then the rest of Aemond’s body emerging from the grave. Covered in grime and filth, he slowly stood up, his movements sluggish but determined. His eye scanned the surroundings, and when they fell on Y.N, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face.

“Ābrazȳrys,” (Wife).

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

A Letter From An Ex-Conservative To Her Parents On November 6th, 2024

Mom and Dad,

     When Trump got shot this summer, I remember you saying that this was all because the Left wouldn’t stop calling him Hitler. How we needed to “turn down the temperature” and stop “inciting violence.” I don’t think you understand that when people compare Trump to Hitler, it is not, in fact, just because they do not like him, but because he uses Hitlerian rhetoric on a regular basis. Obsessing over an imagined past version of a country that never truly existed. Saying that (insert frequently dehumanized other) is “poisoning the blood of the nation.” Before Hitler began the Final Solution against Jews, what did he say he planned to do? Deport them, until he realized it was too costly. I don’t think you understand that Hitler did not start putting people in death camps the second he came to power. Trump is currently in about the same position Hitler was in in the 1930s. Is it going to take him putting undocumented people in gas chambers for you to believe me? 

     You might think that I’ve only come to my current conclusions about Trump because of the lies of “the mainstream media”, which, as I’ve said numerous times, I don’t even watch. But it’s actually been largely due to the things Trump himself has said. I understand that you don’t like Biden calling Trump’s voters “garbage”, but the language Trump uses to describe his political opponents is at least as disturbing. He’s disparaged fallen soldiers as “suckers and losers.” He’s proudly boasted about being the president who got Roe V Wade appealed, regardless of the estimated thousands of women who are dying because the medical treatments they need fall too close to the legal definition of abortion. A massive portion of his campaign advertisements are explicitly anti-trans. He thinks Palestinians should be moved off their land because it would make “great beachfront property.” He regularly speaks positively of and rubs elbows with the most disturbing members of the alt-right, such as Laura Loomer and Nick Fuentes. He’s a bully. (you voted for a bully. Remember when I was bullied?) And if Kamala’s plans are incoherent, which admittedly some of them are, Trump’s are even more so. He doesn't have a plan. America is just another failed business to him. 

     I don’t think you’re bad people. But I do think your party is bad. This is far more than just one guy. My journey has been less one of changing any of my beliefs than realizing that the Republican Party never represented those beliefs to begin with. It is the party of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, of stripping the oppressed of their means to succeed and then asking them to “pull themselves up by the bootstraps.” Your precious Reagan was a racist. There’s recorded evidence. His policies were racist. He enabled denial and misinformation about AIDS until it was too little too late and millions had died. And you proudly display his book on your shelf, right next to Rush Limbaugh and Pat fucking Buchanan. Your son is a gay man. How could you. 

     Being a conservative, whether you think so or not, is inherently about preserving the status quo, about making sure things stay the way they are, that the people who are down stay down, and crushing anyone who tries to make things better. I didn’t vote Democrat because I am one. I voted Democrat because it would be easier under one such administration to push this country in the direction of equity and liberty. Project 2025 was intended for the next conservative administration. Trump may deny involvement, but the foreword of one of the sections was written by none other than his own vice president. And with the House, Senate and Supreme Court all red now, it’s going to be easier than ever for him to pass any portions of it he likes. 

     I’m writing you this letter so that you know that if a nationwide abortion ban gets put in place, if schools and parents who support their children’s gender affirming care (which does NOT mean surgery) start getting investigated (which some already are), if Israel continues bombing Gaza until there’s nothing left, if billionaires continue to take up larger and larger percentages of the nation’s wealth, if immigrants who’ve lived and worked in this country for years start getting deported in droves because they couldn’t get the right paperwork, that it’s on you and people like you, even as you continue deny the very real damage done in Trump’s first presidency, the awful, awful people who felt empowered because of him. I tried for a while this summer to see if I could change your minds, but all it did was screw up my mental health and make me realize something truly painful: that you aren’t the people I thought you were. Not when your reaction to police shooting students the same age as your own daughter with rubber bullets because they don’t want their university to be complicit in a genocide is “well, what are they supposed to do? They’re the police.” Not when a man can say immigrants are poisoning the blood of the nation and you still vote for him. 

     It breaks my heart that you and so many people I love have been so deeply conditioned to vote against their own best interests, to think that a government that actually helps its people without actively harming others is a childish, fanciful expectation. I think I truly believed to the depths of my soul until last night that this wouldn’t happen. That we were better than this. That we wouldn’t reelect someone who objectively ran a terrible campaign, who conducts himself with boorishness and indignity, who genuinely, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, represents everything that made me scream "Fuck America" out Laura’s car window this summer. But why should I be surprised America likes fascists? My own parents certainly seem to.

     But I hope you’re happy with your lower grocery prices, I guess. Which we probably won’t be getting anyway, because that’s not actually what Trump’s policies are going to do. 

     You sold out my friends, and entire marginalized communities, for cheaper groceries. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for that.

Lauren

[kurishiri]

n.1 . . . “ the betraying hunter is tempted by the death god ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit of joking centered around drugs; if i took a shot every time victor’s eyes were compared to jewels, i don’t know how many shots it would be, but it would probably not be healthy /lh

Victor: Good evening to you. The full moon tonight is quite beautiful, isn’t it.

Roger: Yeah, to an almost irritating degree.

Though I didn’t have much of an eye for appearances, even I could tell this person’s face possessed a striking beauty. And collapsed at his feet,

was the criminal in euphoria as he died.

(There’s no stab wound or any sign of physical trauma. And yet… he’s dead?)

I was curious about the cause of death as a former doctor, but there were more pressing matters right now.

Roger: Would you happen to be the head of ‘Crown,’ which consists solely of Cursed ones?

Victor: Indeed, that is me.

The man flashed me a smile, and in a single blink of the eye—

Roger: …!

The distance between us closed, and he poked my nose with his fingertips.

Victor: Now, I have answered one of your questions. So, would it be fair to ask the same of you?

V: Entry is forbidden in this area even by the police…

V: …which you don’t appear to be one anyway. On top of that, you are not a member of Crown either, so what brings you here?

Those jewel-like eyes seemed to make the heart waver, and they seemed as though they could see completely through me.

(Well, not that I had any intention of faking it ‘til I make it in the first place.)

Roger: See, my dad’s a doctor. So I bring the deceased who have faced strange or inexplicable deaths back for an autopsy.

Victor: That is to say then that you come around when you hear any information on incidents happening out on the streets?

Roger: Yeah, that’s right. That said, I don’t actually have permission to step foot in here, unfortunately.

R: Getting permission would take too much time. I jumped over the fence back there.

Victor: ……… [surprised]

V: Haha, how nice, there’s nothing I like more than naughty boys.

The moment the air around us lightened up, I found the gap between my emotions close.

Roger: There’s a man named Alfons in there, right? He joined Crown a year ago.

R: He and I go back a long way, so that’s how I know of Crown’s existence.

Victor: Crown’s existence should be kept confidential, that Alfons…

Roger: No, he didn’t leak any information about Crown to me.

R: But I can hear sounds from up to a hundred yards away. Because I also hold an unnatural ability as one of the Cursed.

Victor: Hmm…

Roger: Will you let me join Crown? I’m sure I’ll be of use to you in some way.

In order to find a way to rid the world of Curses, I would like to have even just one more sample of a Cursed one.

As such, Crown — an organization consisting solely of Cursed ones — was the ideal place for me to be.

Victor: Crown is a place where the scent of death will follow you where you go. Surely not somewhere you’d choose to go to of your own volition.

Those jewel-like eyes questioned me: ‘And yet, why?’

(Best to keep things simple here.)

Roger: I’ve had a personal interest in Curses, so I’m researching them. You can call it the nature of a former doctor.

Victor: I see. Well then, this is the prime opportunity.

V: I’m sure the choice between taking another ally or having them die upon knowing the existence of Crown is an obvious one.

All he did was say those words with a smile on his face, and yet I felt the night air grow cold.

Victor: Seeing as you have the resolve, I feel you’re well suited for Crown. So, I look forward to working with you, Roger.

He held out his own hand, but all I could do was stare back at it.

Roger: …I’m pretty sure I haven’t given you my name, have I?

Those eyes that seemed to hold jewels simply smiled at me in silence.

The moment I took his hand, it felt deep and dark——the fragrance of night that told me there was no going back, that is.

When I safely joined Crown, my first step was to devise a plan to make a medical record for Victor.

But…

Roger: Victor, do you have time for an exami—

Victor: Ahh, Roger! I managed to get some valuable beer, so how about we have a drink together?

Roger: Beer? Dammit… I know you’re playing dirty.

—— Time skip ——

Roger: Victor, today’s the day you promised I could exami—

William: If you’re looking for Victor, he is currently abroad on orders from Her Majesty. He will return in three days time.

Maybe it was simply the nature of a hunter to have a strengthening desire to chase after those that played hard to catch.

Then, I found my biggest chance — Victor was accompanying someone from America who was a heavy drinker,

and rumors spread that he was intoxicated at the castle.

I approached a certain someone who was sitting with his eyes closed——but.

Victor: If you’re going to jump on someone in their sleep, you should at least spike something with a sleeping drug first, Roger.

His eyes, gleaming like jewels, suddenly opened.

Roger: So you are strong to liquor, aren’t you. ‘Cause if that’s the case, one sleeping drug wouldn’t cut it.

Victor: Oh my, I see you’ve finally managed to find out something about me.

Crown was practically a hub for some strange people, but this person’s enigma seemed to know no bounds.

Roger: Victor. Just what are you?

Victor: Perhaps I may be cursed, but on the other hand, I may also not be.

Roger: What’s that supposed to mean? You were the one who said Crown consisted only of Cursed ones, right?

Victor: Oh, but never once did I say that I was Cursed.

Roger: .........

R: ...You sneaky bastard.

(It’s not as though I’ve given up on finding out more about Victor.)

(But, I also feel it just can’t be helped that I only know so much. Because——)

I felt that he was bearing a darkness alone, one more deep than any of us could imagine.

Roger: ...Well, guess I should let it go as long as I can collect research funds. For now, at least.

I turned to the next medical record.

Roger: Elbert Greetia. Bearer of the Greedy Queen’s Curse.

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[slay00ryu]

could you explain how to write the kc li's? am having trouble writing ronin and such, and you are one of my friends so am requesting your help - ronins pretty princess

N "explaining" how they write the love interests :D

So for starters, I will do it in a form of small notes? I'm not that good at explaining and I will maybe try to show some examples. I had a hard time too so I can understand why it can be hard.

Also there's not really a one correct way to write them, you can always take artistic liberties so I will focus more on giving their personalities based on what we see in the game.

Spoilers for Killer Chat!

Ronin - The Devil's Butcher

Oh, Ronin, Ronin, Ronin.

He is actually the easiest one to write, for me at least.

Ronin has a strong sarcastic personality, he speaks in riddles and wants to fuck with the player's mind.

He's main goal when he's the person who you're trying to woo in the game is to corrupt you, so it's adviced to make the reader be in the middle of said corruption or be corrupted, when you're kissing him in his ending the reader is already corrupted enough to love him: "Oh, I love it when you're rotten and mine [...]" he tells you that you are his fallen angel so to speak.

Ronin hates monotony and boredom, so the reader has to be interesting for him, or he will get bored and either leave or kill them.

Oh yeah, killing the reader. Ronin sees us taking his life, or him taking ours as the most romantic thing ever. So would he see us murdering for him, we're killers, our hands are stained with blood and that's all for him. Isn't this romantic?

Ronin is possessive in a way, he won't show jealousy, he's ruined you why would you try to leave him for someone else? You're his, you and he are well aware of it. But it doesn't change the fact that he would mark you and keep you on your toes just to make sure that you wouldn't think about leaving him.

Our man is touch starved, maybe he won't cuddle with you for two hour straight, but he will poke you to annoy you, play with your hair, wrap an arm around your shoulders etc. Small touched are also a form of physical touch.

Of course, not everything has to be happy, Ronin also might experience dark times. Gender dysphoria might get its way into his head. He may think of Ther and be a little bit in despair because of it, but don't fret, you don't have to put that in EVERY fanfic.

Ronin as we all know loves to bastardise Shakespeare, or sometimes drop a line from the Bible for shits and giggles.

His brand is being the Devil so the reader could stroke his ego by calling him the Devil in some ways.

Ronin wouldn't want the reader to be completely obsessed with him, to the extend when they breathe and live for him. With no personality or interests. Not only would they be just plainly boring, he would probably be annoyed with and feel perhaps guilty for making them into this mess.

If the MC dies or breaks up with Ronin in bad blood, he would be in despair, maybe there wouldn't be any tears, but it would show. More murders, getting tense or angry when your name is mentioned etc.

V - The Vigilante

Ah, my favourite batman. Well that's one way to explain V. He is like him, but he actually kills the beasts that stain our world.

He has a strong moral code, of course there are some loose crews like the one time when the player actually told him not go sell Ronin to the police. So with his strong moral code, the reader has to be someone who will not kill people Ronin style, their murders have to be for a reason, or the reader may be someone who doesn't kill people and is "pure" in a sense.

He is a gentleman - the Brit in him i showing lol - so it is a good idea to write him as such. Gentle kisses on the back of readers hand, opening door of them etc.

V is an animal lover, but he would deny that of course, so it would be great if the reader was fond of animals too.

He would be protective of us, make sure to keep us safe from danger and keep a tab on the people who are in our life and seem too suspicious for his liking.

His love language is "acts of service" so maybe getting rid of someone dangerous for you, helping you with hard tasks or chores, he would do anything that would be help of you and wouldn't cross the lines of his morale.

He may appear cold and distant, but you can see his love in a soft and warm gaze, gentle smiles or small touches here and there. He's like a black cat basically.

V is supportive of the reader, with their hobbies or work. He would be ready to listen to the reader's yap about some ideas for a new book they want to write.

Misaki - The Assassin

Misaki, they are a silly goof most of the time. They would definitely use genz and gen alpha terms. Expect them to call the reader "Pookie" or something along the lines as their pet name.

Whenever they come to visit the reader or the reader visits them, they have a small gift prepared - their love language is gifts giving.

They are Asian so the reader shouldn't hate on their parents just because Misaki has to send them money to help them. Asian families are uh more complicated so mingling into that would be seen as crossing a line.

Misaki is anxious, they fear disappointing someone or get extremely stressed with their "jobs" so the reader should support them.

Misaki is open for anything, you want to become a cannibal? "Go for it babe, become the maneater!" They would be so hyper about it or maybe joke if the idea is too unhinged.

They are a very caring person, so if you are troubled they will go out of their way to help you, and be there for you.

It could take a while for them to open up 100%, but after opening themselves about their poor living situation and family issues, it definitely will be easier.

She seems like someone who would send you random memes or pics they took or found and say smh like 'it reminds me of you".

Maria de la Rosa - The Angel

Yes, the maneating perfectionist. She's married to her work, but the reader would be able to help her with this issue, like how they helped her with that motherfu- Finian! Just don't pressure her to change immediately, it takes time.

She loves quality time, it's very important to her. So just watch some movie with her, go on a date and be there with her. And maybe let her snuggle up to you when she needs it.

You have to accept Ronin as your supervisor and biggest enemy at the same time, if you fuck up something with Angel, she would let it slide, but Ronin? Hell no, that's his ex gf and bestie, if you hurt her, he will make sure that Angel get rid of you as a way to heal.

Angel would promote you on her social media, your book or your cafe? She left a honest - usually positive - opinion about it and her fans would just be your biggest donators.

Angel isn't possessive or obsessive, but she can be insecure. Are you okay with dating her when she has such a busy schedule? Are you fine with the paparazzi? Just be there for her and reassure her about everything.

She's the definition of "people pleaser". Her friend has a shitty menager? He's gone. Her fans didn't like her new video? She will never do something like that again, unless you convince her that it's really okay or that she should continue to do what she wants. She's stubborn that's for sure, but hey, small steps are important!

Ofc it's albit more complicated than this, most of the things I write are taken from my interpretation of the game, Rose's tumbrl posts or other fanfics, take inspo if you're unsure of something, or ask others for their opinions. :D

Hope it is helpful in some way T-T

Bye, love ya

-N<3

[geralts-yenn]

Believe In Me - chapter 10

chapter warnings: 18+, adult content, minors DNI! vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, me taking even more liberties with Greek mythology

word count: 3,2k

Series Masterlist

“This is amazing! Thank you for bringing me here.” Aurora let her gaze travel over the dark wooden shelves, framed by golden ornaments. Thousands of ancient books were filling them. Her eyes wandered to the baroque frescoes that decorated the stucco ceiling. It was breathtaking.

“I’m glad you like it,” Erebus said, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “Your mother loved visiting libraries with me, and this one was her favorite.” A small smile tugged at his mouth as his look got unfocused. “Her eyes were sparkling whenever she could lay her hands on all those chronicles and tomes.”

After visiting libraries in Oxford, Venice and Vienna, this time Erebus had taken Aurora to Prague. They wandered through the rooms, even the ones that weren’t open to visitors, as those limitations didn’t apply to Erebus. He just took Aurora in his arms and in the next moment they found themselves wherever he wanted to take her. 

As the sun began to rise, Aurora sat with her father on a bench, overlooking the Vltava river and the Charles Bridge in the distant. Erebus read to her, a love story, centuries old, but as she listened to him, she thought how nothing ever changed. People have always loved the same way. 

Aurora had learned fast to enjoy the company of her father. He was quiet, but that never bothered her. She felt safe with him, and his serenity was a comfort she deeply needed after what had happened weeks ago. 

After Erebus had finished the tragic love story and shut the book, he looked up to watch the warm colors of the morning reflect in the calm waters of the river. His face showed melancholy, a feeling that always seemed to be present with him, but this morning it was more evident than ever.

“Please tell me about her.” Aurora demanded, and Erebus turned to her.

“Your mother?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Tell me about whoever makes you feel like this.”

A warm smile spread over the God’s face. 

“Your mother definitely is part of that, yes. She was the one I could finally love, after a very long time. She taught me to be happy again. We had such a short time together, a blink of an eye, but the days I had with her meant so much to me.” Erebus took Aurora’s hand in his. “And she gave me you. This is the most wonderful gift I could have ever gotten. I wish I could thank her for it.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her temple.

Aurora savored his affection. She had never thought to experience love again from a parent after her mother had died, so the miracle of Erebus’ existence filled her heart with joy. 

“Do you want to talk about what made it so hard for you to find love and happiness?” She didn’t know if her question crossed a line, but she couldn’t help it. She was so curious about this mysterious man and why he always had this sadness in his eyes. 

Erebus took a deep breath. When Aurora already thought she had annoyed him, and she wouldn’t get an answer, he turned to her and watched her intently. 

“Her name was Nyx” His eyes seemed to glow golden as he remembered her. “She was like me. Ancient and powerful, goddess of the night. We erupted out of pure chaos, and from the beginning of the world, my darkness and her night were always meant to collide. The love we shared can’t be described in human words. Nyx and I, we were inseparable for eons of years. But humans feared our unified darkness, and gods feared our immense power. And so a goddess and a mighty witch united to bring the most cruel curse over us.”

Aurora squeezed the God’s hand with hers reafirmingly. His gaze dropped to their joined hands, marveling how hers looked so delicate and tiny in his huge paw. And yet, her touch gave him so much comfort. He hadn’t talked about Nyx in a long time, and it cost him a lot of strength to go on.

“The curse robbed us from sensing each other. On the worst day of my life, I woke up, unable to see my lover’s beautiful face, to hear her laughter, to inhale her scent, unable to taste her sweet mouth or feel her warmth. And it was the same for her. Hundreds of years we tried to fight it, tried to break the curse. But eventually, we both gave up, our hearts broken.”

“What happened to her?” Aurora asked carefully. She hadn’t missed that Erebus talked about her in past tense. 

“I will tell you another time.” Erebus patted her leg and gave her a small smile. “How about you? You’re still happy living with the vampires?” 

Aurora knew her father still hoped she’d live with him. But she also knew that he’d accept her decision. And she was, in fact, very happy living with Melot.

“I am. I was scared that it’d be lonely, not being able to leave the house. But there’s always someone to spend my time with, and I like all the vampires living there. They are all so kind to me. Maria spends a lot of time with me, too, which is awesome. She’s the best. And I started some online courses that keep me occupied.”

If Erebus was disappointed, he didn’t let it show. “Does Melot treat you well?” he asked, and Aurora blushed, as she thought about things Melot did to her that she really didn’t want to discuss with her father.

“He does! He loves me.” 

And that was enough for Erebus, he just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Good! And what about August?” Erebus eyes darkened when he mentioned the vampire king. He could never hide his animosity towards him. Another mystery Aurora still had to figure out.

“I barely see him and when he’s there, he mostly ignores me. He’s a little intimidating, but you get used to him. I just hate that I’m always cold when he’s in the same room.”

Aurora bit her lip and tilted her head, not sure if she should risk another question. But Erebus was in the rare mood of talking, so she tried.

“Why do you hate him?”

“That is a very long story that I’m not willing to share with you yet. August wouldn’t be happy if I told you, either. Not that this matters to me.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a crooked smirk. “Enough talking, let me take you home to your vampire lover, he certainly misses you already.”

“Finally!” 

Maria beamed up at them as Aurora and Melot stepped down into the lounge that was buzzed with people. “I already thought about walking into your room and dragging both of you out of your bed. If Melot wasn’t inhumanly strong, I probably would have done it.”

Aurora accepted the margarita that Maria held out for her and took a sip. Melot pressed a kiss on her forehead and left her with her friend, walking out onto the patio.

“I had an online class.” Aurora said defensively, but her blush and her eyes twinkling mischievously gave her away. 

“Like I don’t know that your course ended an hour ago. On top of that, you both have sex hair.” Maria chuckled and brushed her fingers through Aurora’s curls. 

It was a pleasant summer night, a warm breeze in the air, and apparently Will and Mike had decided to throw a party. This happened at least once a week, but Aurora wouldn’t complain. She had soon learned to appreciate the hedonistic lifestyle most of her cohabitants chose. The vampires were always up for a good time, and their human guests, most of them in some sort of relationship with the guys, were a welcome change in terms of conversations.

Maria and Aurora stepped out into the garden and made their way to Syverson, who was smiling contently while flipping some burgers on his beloved barbecue grill. 

“Why do you enjoy this so much, Sy?” Maria asked with a grin on her face. “It’s not like you guys are keen to eat this, right?”

The huge, bearded vampire chuckled. “No, sugar, but it’s kinda relaxing. And I love taking care of you little humans. Feeding you like you’re feeding me. It’s the least I can do.”

With that, he shoved a plate of food in each Maria’s and Aurora’s hands and gave them one of his awkward winks.

The girls sat down on a lounger and dug into their burgers. Aurora talked about her new classes and her last trip with her father. Maria provided her friend with some college gossip and then gushed over the date night she had with Charles. 

“Don’t know if I can call it a date, to be fair. We’re talking about Charles, and I’m not an idiot. But honestly, he really managed to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world for him that night.” Maria sighed. 

“Where is he, anyway?” Aurora asked, looking around the garden.

“He’s still in the club, but he’ll be joining us later. He still has to feed, and he signed a contract with me, saying that we’re exclusive - in terms of feeding.” The last part of Maria’s sentence lacked the enthusiasm that she usually showed whenever she talked about her new favorite vampire.

Suddenly, Mike dropped onto the lounger between the two girls. The furniture creaked under the weight of him. His shit eating grin got wider as he saw the startled expression on the girls’ faces. He loved using his inhuman speed to spook people. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie dipping his dick in anyone else in a while now, so I think you can assume to be exclusive in every way,” he told Maria, wiggling his eyebrows.

While Maria just sat there with her mouth hanging open, Aurora laughed and pushed Mikey’s shoulder, as if she was actually able to have an impact on the solid body of his.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be eavesdropping, Mike. Ever heard of privacy?” But Mike just shook his head and laughed.

“Sweetcheeks, do you remember you’re living with a bunch of vampires who have superhuman senses? There’s no such thing as privacy in this house.”

Aurora let out a groan. “Hate that you are right! Maria, we should probably switch our conversation to period cramps. That should scare him off to pry on someone else.”

The girls started to laugh but got interrupted by Mikey’s tsk’s. “Babycakes!” He raised an eyebrow at Aurora, biting back his smirk. “Vampires, blood. You get it!” 

“Ugh, that’s gross, Mikey!” It was Maria’s turn to shove Mike and this time it actually kind of worked because the vampire got up with more chuckles and left the girls alone again.

As the night slowly came to an end, vampires and humans left the party and Aurora found herself alone with Melot. The vampire rested his head against the lounger, his girlfriend sitting between his legs, her back against his chest. As much fun as the parties were, this part of living with Melot was Aurora’s favorite. Spending time cuddled against Melot’s body would never get boring. 

“The vampire history course I’m taking is incredible. It’s so interesting. It got me to think, how exactly did you end up with August?” She turned her head to look into Melot’s eyes. “If you want to share, of course. You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Melot gave her a soft smile. “No, it’s fine. I would share everything with you.”

He interlaced his fingers with Aurora’s and then started to tell her:

“Guess it’s easiest to start with Charles. It was around 1500, Charles was living at the court of Henry VIII. He was a close friend of the king, and let’s just say, he enjoyed his life and the attention he got from women at court just as much as you might expect.

But this led him to one decision that changed his life forever. He bedded a woman who wasn’t what she pretended to be. The woman was a vampire. And she was so enamored with Charles’ pretty face that she couldn’t stand the thought that he would get older and his beauty was supposed to fade. So she turned him, without his consent. Without telling him anything, in fact.

And when Charles noticed that something was happening to him, that his body reacted strangely,  he had no clue, and he totally freaked out. He rushed from the palace and ran through the streets of London in panic. A new vampire without guidance is something very dangerous. He might have exposed us to humans, or he might even have killed someone. 

That’s why August tried his best to get him under control. On the third night that Charles slipped through his fingers, just fast enough not to get into August’s ban, August appeared at my door step. By that time, I was living a quiet life, not engaging much in vampire society. But somehow August knew about my ability to walk through daylight.

He asked me to secure Charles while he was hiding from the sun. I was surprised to see August, I had heard about him before, he was a legend, even back then. And of course, his ability to persuade others made my decision to help him an easy one. 

The next day, I managed to get my hands on Charles and brought him to August. He took care of the confused Charles and to my astonishment, August asked me to stay with him and Charles.”

While Melot kept recounting stories from his past, Aurora was hypnotized by the way his face showed so many different emotions. His eyes morphed from dark pits to glowing fires or glassy orbs with every new memory. 

“All the things you must have seen! I can’t really wrap my head around this,” she whispered, her fingers brushing gently through the long strands of his hair. “You must have met so many gorgeous women. Is it weird that I am a little jealous?”

Aurora sank her head, trying to hide from her lover’s gaze, but Melot didn’t let her get away with it. His fingers hooked under her chin, forcing her to set her eyes back on his.

“You don’t have to be.” Melot emphasized every of his words with a soft kiss. On her forehead, her temple, on her nose, her cheek, and finally on her mouth.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever met. And even more importantly, I have never felt even close to what I feel for you, Aurora.”

His words were enough to make her forget about her insecurities. There was nothing left inside her chest than her immeasurable, all-consuming love for Melot.

Her mouth was back on his, urgently seeking his warmth and taste. The night sky slowly changed from deep blue to paler shades of purple, while neither of them could find the strength to end this kiss. 

Instead, their hands desperately sought out each other, their desire growing with every passing minute. Melot curled his fingers into the neckline of Aurora’s shirt and without hesitation he ripped the fabric in two. 

Aurora gasped.“This was expensive!” she protested half-heartedly, but Melot only chuckled. 

“August will buy you a dozen more of them.” He covered the newly exposed skin with his warm hands, while he sealed her lips with his mouth before she could object any further. 

His fingers brushed over the tight peaks of her breasts, pinching them teasingly, before they moved lower, finding their way into Aurora’s soaked panties. A deep growl reverberated through Melot’s chest, the moment he slipped one finger into her hot, wet core. A sound that spread goose bumps all over Aurora’s body and swallowed her own needy whimper.

“I need all of you, baby!” His lips brushed over her ear, sending more shivers through Aurora’s body. 

She moved to stand, dropping the ruined dress to the floor, together with her underwear. Her knees were hardly able to carry her weight, but Melot saved them from giving in. The next second, Aurora found herself back in Melot’s arms. She felt the soft hair of his chest against her back, and more prominently she felt the hard length of his cock pressing against her ass.

And even though he had told her how much he needed her, a minute ago, Melot slowed down. He took his sweet time, one hand wrapped around her heavy breast, the other playing gently with her sensitive clit. 

“Shush, darling. I can hear your heart racing in your chest.” He licked from her jaw along her throat. “I can feel your pulse below my tongue.” His words only made her heart beat faster. 

He pushed two fingers back into her, the heel of his hand pressing down on her swollen nub.

“Please,” Aurora all but begged, “take everything you need.”

Melot sucked on Aurora’s neck, his fangs scraping over the delicate skin, but he still didn’t give in to his urge. Instead, he curled his fingers, seeking out the spot that made Aurora see stars.

And when he kept pumping his fingers into her, he brought here there. The tension he built inside her core snapped and waves of pleasure rushed through her body. Aurora thought this was the best she could ever feel. But then Melot moved, and he sank his teeth into her neck and his cock into her still pulsing heat. 

The cry Aurora let out almost sounded inhuman. The pain and pleasure running through her body was all that was left from her, and it was perfect. She was floating on a high that didn’t fade and that blurred her mind in the best way. 

Melot’s thrusts got faster and harder until he shuddered beneath her, her name on his lips. It took her a while until she even noticed that Melot had stopped pounding into her. He just held her tight and pressed kisses on the wound he had left on her throat. 

Lazily, Aurora opened her eyes. The sun had risen to a big red orb, covering the mountains and all the surroundings in front of them in orange and pink light. Aurora turned and admired the beautiful face of her lover in the warm light. Melot’s eyes seemed to glow in a brighter red as usual as he looked back at her with a softness on his face that was reserved only for Aurora. 

“I am so grateful that I get to see this,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “And I’m glad I have you to join me.” The two of them shared a gentle kiss before they went back to watch the sun rise. Aurora sighed, snuggled deeper against Melot’s chest, and thought how she could spend eternity like this.

[eugenedebs1920]

If you can’t win. Cheat! That seems to be the platform for the once, Grand Ol Party. That party died with Eisenhower. Nixon was a paranoid, racist criminal, who would do what it took to keep power. The “Reagan Revolution” was nothing more than a script written for a literal actor to do the bidding of Wall Street and big banks. W. Bush was more of the same , but at least he was a war hero. H.W. Bush was the least qualified candidate for president until his maga successor would stumble into the oval office 16 years later.

The Republican Party is the same racist fucks that use to head the Democratic Party before the 1964 Civil Rights Act. It’s not blue or red, Democrat or Republican. It’s conservative v liberal. The conservative holding on to “the good ol days”. Yea!? What were those!? When you could treat a person of color like a second class citizen and all your other white friends would smile with approval. Tradition. What tradition is that conservatives?! Do we need to go farther back than that?! How bout when you could own another human being and make him do the work while you sat around and reaped the rewards? If that boy get outta line he’ll be gettin the whip! Fucking disgusting! Conservative. What the fuck you conserving!? Sure ain’t morality! Sure ain’t the rule of law! Sure ain’t the planet! Sure ain’t “family values”! Sure ain’t the Constitution, or our democracy, or our institutions, the courts, the balance of power, ethics, honor, dignity, pride! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU CONSERVING!?!? Because from where I’m standing, it’s hate. Because from where I’m standing, it’s voter suppression. Because from where I’m standing it’s corruption. Just like Reconstruction, just like the Jim Crow south, same shit. Different time. Same assholes!

Prove me wrong……

I’m almost as pissed At liberals as conservatives! (Not really) Do you want to make a change for good in this world?! Do you want to see equality as the law of the land!? Do you want acceptance and love to be the norm!? Where everyone is taken care of, we’re kind to those we know, and those we don’t. A place where corporate greed isn’t the main itinerary. Where being well educated is achievable to all Americans regardless of socioeconomic status? Do you want to live in a country where the bottom 50% of earners make more than 3% of the wealth?! Do you want fair banking and lending practices? A clean environment to live in, to be able to buy a house, raise a family, in a nation where the air is safe to breathe, where the water is safe to drink, where you don’t have to worry if your kid is going to get shot up at school?! Do you want civil rights, woman’s rights, LGBTQ rights, human rights, elderly protection, environmental protection, liberty, freedom, the right to pursue happiness?! Is that something you would like?!

Then toughen the fuck up! Quit this cancel culture, delicate snowflake bullshit! We’re not woke!!! We’re liberals!. The racist are coming with torches to lynch a motha fucker, you gunna stand up and fight, or curl up in a ball and cry!? The fuckin rules have been thrown out long ago. These pricks DONT FUCKING CARE! They will burn this shit down and wait for us to put it out with our liberal tears. Fuck that! If they’re going to burn this shit down we’re locking them In the fucking building while it burns to the ground. The gloves are off. No more going in to the boxing ring holding true to the sport while our opponent has a baseball bat and is ready to swing for the fences at us.

The high road has got us nowhere but low. So let’s stay there. If they’re want to play dirty and skirt the rules, so can we. If we don’t! And fuckin soon! They’ll be nothing left to fight for.

[child-of-the-sky-people]

hi Ali! im looking for a new narrative podcast to get into, what's your current rec list? :)

Oh god it’s so long 😂

Horror:

Human Error - this one is mine so of course I’m recommending it 😂 it’s about a found family of survivors going on a road trip during a zombie apocalypse 12 years after the world ended!

We’re Alive - also zombie horror and was the show that got me into audio dramas! It’s very long and looks overwhelming but I promise it’s good!

Darkest Night - anthology horror where you find out how people died but each case is actually related and there is a bigger mystery and this show lives in my head rent free lol

The Waystation - found footage style show about a group of people on a space station that all died (the story is trying to piece together what happened). It’s along the same lines as The White Vault

DERELICT - a research group are studying a door at the bottom of the ocean, and then shit goes sideways. I binged this series super fact and I need season 2 immediately lol

The Eleventh Hour episode called The City of Statues - I made this! It’s about a group of survivors trying to make it out of a city filled with statues trying to hunt them down 👀

Someone Dies in this Elevator - mix of horror and thriller I think. It’s an anthology series where every episode someone dies in an elevator 👀 I composed for a few episodes and it’s v fun 🤩

Thriller

The Liberty Podcast - made by the same folks behind The White Vault and VAST Horizon. It’s an anthology series of stories taking place within and surrounding a tower where a civilization lives. Some episodes might lean more towards horror but I personally consider it more thriller

The Walk - made by the same folks behind zombies run! In this show you the listener are the main character, an individual making their way across Scotland with a package they were mistakenly delivered. I love this show so much omg

Primordial Deep - scientists are finding extinct dinosaurs alive and well under the ocean and they’re trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. I fucking love this show omg

Spines - woman wakes up in the middle of a cult ritual with no memories and is trying to figure out who she is and where she came from. Also there are powers!

Mirrors - same person behind Spines! Three women from three different centuries (who are all related to each other) discover they can communicate with each other through ghost like figures. It has a bigger mystery and the ending made me cry it was so good

InCo - a woman finds a prince from a world that shouldn’t exist floating in space. This show is a delight and is a micro series and I love the humor within it so much omg

Where the Stars Fell - the Antichrist is roommates with their guardian angel and they’re trying to stop the rapture

DUST - anthology series about science fiction and technology! Season 3 is definitely my favorite as it is one story but the entire show as a whole is very good

Feel Good/Light Hearted Shows

Unseen - this show lives in my head rent free and I ache for it to be real. It’s about magic existing in the real world and is an anthology! It’s made by the same folks behind Wolf 359

Joy to the World - holiday series I helped produce! It’s about an astronaut named Joy talking with different people on Earth about the holidays! It’s an anthology and v warm and I highly recommend it as a holiday series

Sidequesting - a person who is totally not the hero is avoiding the main plot and going on a bunch of side quests! It’s charming and lovely and made by the wonderful Tal

Back Again, Back Again - a woman is retelling her stories of his magical world she was transported into and about the prophecy she became involved in

If none of these are your jam lmk and I can suggest some more! If you tell me what you like to listen to/what kinds of stories you enjoy I can make a more personalized list

[wanderingmind867]

I wanted to give Martian Manhunter a bit of a rogues gallery, since he never really had one in the 60s. So I took the liberty of trying to create some villains for him. I may continue working on it at school. And this was probably my most original idea: I based his powers, backstory and even his initials on my real life. The Conqueror of Constants: the Enemy of Time!

The Conqueror of Constants (Sean Casey): Sean Casey is a man beaten down by the passage of time. He's only 40, and yet he feels like he's been alive 3000 years. His mother died when he was 17. His father died in a car crash when he was 35. He's never been able to make any close friends, and his whole life has felt like nothing but chaos. Constant shifting of the earth beneath his feet, constant changing. It's ruined his life. Why can't things just stay the same!?

Driven mad with desperation, Casey flung himself into researching a way to slow time down to a crawl. For five years (ever since his father died), he's holed himself up in a bunker and slowly worked to perfect his machinery. And recently, he finally did it. He managed to get his machine to work. A wrist mounted cannon that fires a beam; a beam with the ability to freeze time around an object, keeping them alive and immortal, albeit stuck at their present apperance, age and point in time. Never again will time ruin his life. Never again will time steal from him! No, he'll steal from time! Now he is the Conqueror of Constants, Enemy of Time!

First drawn to J'onn's attention when J'onn has to investigate a series of robberies in town where the people never noticed anything was missing until a full 24 hours later, J'onn realized he was pulling off his robberies by stopping time around the bank, meaning the brains of all the people within the bank were stuck at their present moment in time. They only saw life as it was, never dreaming he was stealing all the money in the bank in the meantime.

J'onn tries to trail this so called "Conqueror of Constants" by following him while in disguised in his human identity of Detective John Jones. But when "John" manages to break into the Conqueror's lab, that's when J'onn finally realizes he's outmatched. Because Sean Casey trains his time cannon on J'onn, and freezes him in his human body. He can't shapeshift back, no matter how hard he tries. He's stuck in his human form, helpless to use any of his martian powers.

Thankfully, the Conqueror underestimated the Manhunter's skill, even when trapped in an ordinary mortal body. J'onn still manages to stop Sean Casey's wave of crime, but he's sadly unable to restore himself back to his martian apperance. For around 10 issues of his comic, I'd have J'onn stuck in ordinary detective mode. It's only after a chance encounter with Doctor Light (back on his quest to pick off the members of the Justice League one by one), that J'onn manages to regain his shapeshifting abilities and become the Martian Manhunter once again. Somehow Doctor Light's blinding lights managed to break the mental block J'onn was stuck under, which was certainly very bad news for Doctor Light.

But back to the Conqueror of Constants: He continues to appear all throughout Martian Manhunter's comic, constantly trying to find new ways to preserve things as they are. At one point, he manages to freeze J'onn while he's Invisible. At another point, he invents a time reversal ray and gets J'onn stuck inside his memories of his past on Mars. The Conqueror of Constants is always finding ways to beat time!

In fact, he even shows up in a crossover story with Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow and Speedy (otherwise known as me testing out giving these three their own stories, like Superman, Batman and Robin had). In that story, him and Clock King end up very reluctantly teaming up, using their control over time and clocks to wreak havok all across North America. Only J'onn, Green Arrow and Speedy can stop them.

But in any case, I think the Conqueror of Constants is an amazing villian idea, and I think he should definitely fight more people than just Martian Manhunter. Martian Manhunter is his main foe, but he's capable of going toe to toe with just about anyone. Superman? Batman? The Flash? Aquaman? I'm sure we could find clever story ideas with Sean fighting any one of these heroes.

[elvenbeard]

I finally sat down and played Reed's path in Phantom Liberty and HOLY shit. Spoilers below the cut just in case köahsdföahdsf

MAN. I was like, 95% unspoilered for everything, the only things I knew was: you gotta fight against Kurt, there is a scene in So Mi's apartment, some Cynosure fuckery, and I had seen gifs of So Mi in the core at the end (and deducted HM. she isn't looking to good, I feel like this is an ending where she dies).

But so so so many things came unexpected and got me so damn good!! I had fun fighting against Kurt, his little knife-throwing sequences (though I still wouldve loved a peaceful solution more than this XD a third path where you side with him or sth like that). I did not expect that we'd be fucking with MaxTac alsködhfasf that little bit was so fun, from setting up to having to fight them (though I also really struggled with that at first, rightfully so xDD).

The level design of the Cynosure was amaaaazing, the creepy horror vibes, the voices the jumpscares aödshfasf I loved that so much. I was not at all prepared for the Cerberus mech, that was mean af xD But so fun, gameplay-wise, so creepy, too. I ate up the lore of the place (and how insane that something like this exists under NC - and how much more similar shit must exist as well for other corporations??).

How the apartment sequence was done blew my whole mind, the transition between the bunker and the apartment, the little flashbacks, and how everything slowly crumbled and fell apart. I love that you can hug So Mi ;___; and man, I was crying so much at the end, the pain... but the only thing that felt right in that moment was killing her and giving her her freedom, and it was so raw and gentle and horrible all at the same time (also V's reaction was ;____; aaaahhh my boy).

I loved that we got a chance to shit-talk Myers XD And that, after all that in the end, Reed may finally find his freedom too and get away from the FIA for good!! I was adskhföasf so feral about his and Vince's parallels again, losing everything and being forced to start over. I loved his line that went like "thanks to you I have a choice now, something I haven't had in a long time". And man, I hope he uses his chance to get as far away from Myers and Washington and all that crap as he can, while he still can (just how that whole experience has deterred Vince from wanting to go back to Arasaka for good xD).

Overall though, I gotta say. I felt like the villain the whole time xD From betraying So Mi (still so obsessed that the options are called "Betray XYZ", not "Side with XYZ" which I've seen much more commonly in games with choices - It's a small detail but it makes such a difference in tone!!), to chasing her down all along it always felt wrong xD I'm glad at least towards the end there were some dialogue options that went away from the patronizing "we just wanna safe you" and "this is all for your best", and felt more human again.

So, for Vince's canon, if he goes through with PL from start to finish, he would rather betray Reed - and in return be betrayed by So Mi in the end aöshdajshf but yeah. Immersion and story-wise, her path felt more true to what he would do, even though I liked the outcome for Reed a lot in this. (and I guess that's really where the main difference lies in the end in all the choices, who gets to live and have their freedom in the end, and how much V is willing to sacrifice).

Also, since I went down the path of not handing So Mi over this time and not unlocking the new ending, instead I got new Mr. Blue-Eyes headcanons material O.O aksdfahsöf highly recommend looting the Cerberus mech and crafting the Cyberdeck in the "Unknown Number" related quest after the credits, in case you always wanted two more or less creepy talking constructs in your head xD

[vole-mon-amour]

2x08, part 2.

WHEN are they going to fuck already?

It's twice as heartbreaking that they have to do that in front of everybody. And that he had to let her go only for her to die and Ryan to go to Homelander. I cannot imagine how corrupt that boy will become because of that.

I can't stop thinking about the rumors about Liberty being Homelander's mother, even though allegedly he was created in a lab. But, like, was he BORN there? Or simply given up and injected with V?

How the hell do both Liberty and Homelander can fly, even though they have different powers? She's afraid of him even though she can withstand some of his laser attacks.

That scene of Ryan attacking Liberty... Goodness, the boy is powerful af.

As if Butcher wasn't traumatized enough before this. All he ever wanted to do all those years is to be back with Becca. And now? I'm glad I have s3 to watch because Butch is fucked. :)

On the other hand, he got to look her in the eyes when she drew her last breath. He got to kiss her goodbye. It's traumatizing as fuck, but at least he knows for sure that she died.

Oh, this dysfunctional family.

Look at this feral cat.

Say it, Maeve. Also, I appreciate her demanding that Homelander stops hunting Starlight/Annie.

I'm gonna ignore that Butcher almost attacked Ryan and say, "You go, Butcher." Ryan is way better off with him than with Homelander. I mean, he already called Ryan "a little shit who killed your wife" while he didn't give a SHIT about Becca. Master manipulator that has failed.

LMAOOOO. Women. <3

Dude, you're scary. And you need a lot of therapy.

<3 I'm glad that a gifset of these two kissing made me finally watch the show. I don't ship them, but they're sweet & they're wonderful characters. Frenchie is amazing. Kimiko is too. They're probably the only ones that give me that warm feeling in this shitshow that's going on around The Boys.

I genuinely thought he was jerking off to Liberty's corpse, lol. I wouldn't be surprised.

I'm not surprised about this, but this:

? Very. Now I'm curious about that scene where Homelander tries to scare her and she shows her true nature for a second. She clearly knows what she's doing.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

Susan Kay's 'Phantom' Read: Part V (Erik, 1856-1881)

Before we start I feel that I need to talk about a perspective shift that I've had. More than half-way through the book now with the completion of this episode I've come to a realization.

Phantom is not what I thought it was. This epiphany has been slowly dawning but here we are.

My impression of Phantom, based on how I have seen it talked about in the Phandom (and certainly how the reviews on the back of the book present it) was that it was Leroux's story but with the blanks filled in and a few small liberties taken.

I had this impression because I was told that for quite a few years, Phantom was basically considered Canon and also because I have often seen Kayrik (or Kerik) and Lerik (or Leroux's Erik) conflated in discussions.

But as I'm reading I have finally realised that I don't think this is ever what Kay intended.

Don't get me wrong I hate most of the decisions she's made, but this book is a complete re-working of the source material with many elements of the book, some from the musical and some original folded in. For Erik's history she mainly follows the life-history detailed by Leroux, but in terms of Erik as a character, he more closely resembles Musical!Erik than anything (except that Kayrik's deformity affects his entire face, not just half). When we arrive at the Opera, she again adheres to Leroux's history. But once we catch up to the canon events, this time line is swiftly abandoned.

Nadir and Erik bump into each other and resume their friendship.

A few weeks later, Erik finds Joseph Buquet's body in his torture chamber.

A few weeks after that Erik hears the news of the Opera's change in management, and hears Christine sing for the first time.

In the source material, Buquet's body is discovered on the same night as Christine's initial triumph (so three months AFTER Erik began to teach her), the same night that the old managers, Debienne and Poligny, have their farewell celebrations and hand over management to Firmin Richard and Armand Moncharmin. Leroux describes Raoul rushing across the stage, "On which Christine Daae has just triumphed, and under which Joseph Buquet had just died." [This excluded from the original translation.

Why Kay chose to alter the progression of events I don't know, but that combined with a final nail in this coffin for me to realise that I had been approaching this book from entirely the wrong perspective. That final nail is the fact that Christine Daaé, in this book, is dark- haired and not blonde.

Kay does what most Phan-author's do: she cherrypicks her preferred elements from both book and musical (Erik general erudite comportment, his mis-matched eyes, Christine's dark hair) and combines them with her own headcanons to create an AU fic that, because of the reclusive nature of Fanfiction at the time and the fact that this work was published and widely circulated, became, for many fans not interested filling in the blanks themselves, erroneously synonymous with actual canon for a goodly number of years, despite its open contradictions to the source material.

Does that mean I like it any better? Haha fuck no. My irritation with Kay's choices persists. It's just that my ire for this book's influence is more accurately directed at the Phandom at large for making it something of a Golden Calf.

And like the Biblical Golden Calf I am here to pound it into dust and make everyone drink it.

So at this point I was going to complain that Kay never made mention of Erik being Christened "the trap-door lover" in Persia. There's even a CHAPTER of Leroux's novel called "The Masterstroke of the Trap-Door Lover". And this didn't come up even ONCE in Nadir's narrative. In fact the Persian and Leroux's narrator both talk about how Erik "rigged the palaces". Which is to say he made alterations to existing buildings and "turned the most honest construction in the world into a demonic house where one could not speak a word without being watched, or betrayed by an echo. How many family quarrels, how many bloody tragedies had the monster left in his wake with his trap doors?"

In Kay's narrative, Erik doesn't alter any existing palaces, he only constructs the Trick Box inspired palace described in Leroux's epilogue and his love of trap doors? Apparently it just isn't a thing.

Moving on

So of course we have to come back around to his mother. That was inevitable and I do actually appreciate it because we know Erik's furniture in the lair was his mother's.

The part where he views his mother's body is... eighhhhhh.

Erik describes the ravages of time in Madeleine's face and also the ravages of death. He talks about the irony that there's actually some resemblance between them now. And we get... this

And as I looked at her, I suddenly understood her revulsion at last--because now I shared it!

I felt no anger or grief as I looked down upon her . . . nothing except a disgust which enabled me to forgive any act of cruelty that she had ever shown me.

[...]

I did not kiss her, now that I had the opportunity.

I knew that she would not have wished it.

And I no longer felt any desire to do so.

I'm deeply confused as to what Kay is trying to convey here. Is Erik really saying that he doesn't want to kiss his mother because death has made her ugly? He goes on a lot about how death is gross and ugly and like... you just found out that your mom never re-married after you left. Never left the house she raised you in.

The misogyny REALLY steps up to the foreground here as well. He says of his mother's friend, Marie Perrault (the only person in this entire book with any rights imho)

This nervous, anxious, well-meaning lady had taught me to respect all members of the weaker sex.

Which, simply by calling them the "weaker sex"... you clearly don't? And after proclaiming is respect for ALL MEMBERS of the weaker sex, in the NEXT sentence he puts in a caveat about how he's never harmed an innocent woman, and also says something about the Khanom that really made me very, very queasy, and also reinforced my squicky suspicions about why Kay chose to make the cruel and capricious female figure in Persia an older woman (a domineering mother) rather than Leroux's "Little Sultana".

Very annoyed how Kay has graduated Erik's voice from "Automatic Aphrodisiac" to "Literally indistinguishable from Jedi Mind Tricks".

Erik regails us with how, using only his voice he is able to "reduce certain men to a trance-like state of obedience" (once exhibited on Nadir and his son Reza). When he meets Nadir again in Paris we are treated to this observation:

"Do you understand, Nadir? Keep away!"

His hand slid him it carriage door and he stood back with a trance-like obedience. He made no effort to prevent the brougham moving away, but although I knew my secret was safe for tonight, I felt no sense of complacency.

Once before he had broken free of my control, torn down the swaddling cocoon of sound with which I had bound him. Unlike Jules [Erik's lackey], he was not a natural subject; his will was too strong, his sense of identity and purpose too well developed.

Whenever he chose to fight my voice, I knew I would be unable to hold him.

That's a Jedi Mind trick. I'm sorry it is.

This section is actually quite enjoyable where the building of the opera house is concerned, but it takes a downturn, both in terms of the story and just the quality of the writing.

There are two instances of redundancy.

His death excited little excitement.

"My old interest in divination had never left me, and from time to time I still consulted the tarot cards in desultory fashion. It had been a long while since they had revealed anything significant, but now of late, each time I picked a card at random I seemed to turn up Death...

And this latter example leads me to something that really made me want to throw the book.

Since Nadir's narrative I have looked askance at something that has come up repeatedly: Susan Kay goes to GREAT LENGTHS to ensure that the readers know that Nadir I 100% straight. NO HOMO HERE, DEAR READER. ABSOLUTELY NOT. She shoehorns in a dead wife that Nadir never got over losing, and went into unnecessary detail about how when Nadir feels "the itch of manhood" (🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮) he avails himself of a prostitute or an odalisque. It comes up SEVERAL times. And when Nadir pops back up in Paris she makes sure to tell us that he has a mistress that he sees regularly. All of this to bring us to THIS infuriating line:

And so even as I walked with Nadir, talked with him, rejoiced in the warmth of communicating directly once more with a human soul, there was a part of me that looked at him with suspicion and wondered what part fate had assigned him in this new, unrehearsed opera.

Not the Lover, that was for certain. I'd seen enough girls leaving his apartments in Persia to be reassured that all of his instincts were purely heterosexual."

I'm not generally into gay readings of PotO. I don't ship Erik with either Raoul or with The Persian. But I will say that if there is an argument to be made for anyone in this book being anything less than 100% heterosexual, it's The Persian. Leroux makes no mention of him having a wife or anything of the sort. Tie that in with the determined responsibility and complex bond he seems to hold with Erik and a case can be made for our dear Daroga feeling something rather more than just sympathy for Erik. (I don't personally subscribe to this, but the case can certainly be made--I'm more of a DaRaoul girl tbh. I think that's an untapped gold mine).

But not here. Kay bends so far backwards as to have Erik say outright "Nadir is defo straight", while (even more bafflingly) implying that, perhaps, Erik is not. WHY, SUSAN. WHY?

Christine’s introduction is the single most "reads like Fanfiction (derogatory)" thing I've read in this book so far, but I find it very interesting how, when Christine sings for the first time Erik says that she "possesses a near perfect instrument". He says her technique is faultless, and that there's no weakness in either register. My first problem is that Leroux's Erik only ever calls Carlotta's voice an "instrument", because that's all it is to Carlotta. My second is that, according to Christine, her lower register was muffled and her upper register was shrill and her middle register wanted clarity. Maybe that's just Christine being too critical of herself, but I doubt that she had "flawless technique" when Erik began teaching her. Incredible latent talent for sure, but I do believe that she needed help with technique as well as motivation to reignite her passion.

Lastly we have Erik's description of when he first sings to Christine. His narrative regarding his motivation is actually very similar to my own:

She wanted an Angel of Music--an angel who would make her believe in herself at last.

[...] There was no reason in the world why I could not be the Angel of Music to Christine. I couldn't hope to be a man to her, I couldn't ever be a real, breathing, living man waking at her side and reaching out for her. . . .

But I could be her angel.

Is his motive here altruistic? No. But the sentiment is sweet enough. The notion of inspiring Christine's self-confidence is present.

Pity then that he takes a sharp left turn in the very next paragraph and utterly compromises any positivity in his intent.

I could not steal her body--but I could steal her voice and weld it irretrievably with mine; I could take it, and mold it, and make it mine forever...

Softly at first, infinitely softly I began to sing an old, heathen, Romany song. The Hollowed bricks carried the haunting melody relentlessly to her, permitted my voice to envelop her gently like a poisonous mist, seeping inexorably into her mind and staining her soul with darkness.

Well, well.

Once more unto the breach I go...

Masterpost

[atopvisenyashill]

hi! it’s nice to see another dark dany truther on this website. just wondering how you interpret dany’s parallels to aegon the unlikely? as in growing up on the streets/seperate from their aristocracy, unlikely monarchs, well intentioned (re: freeing slaves / law reform for the smallfolk), not too well liked by nobles for it, family all meeting their ends + burning people alive to gain dragons (even if egg’s didn’t work out so stellar) would she perhaps serve as a darker mirror since she awakened the dragons (and all the death and destruction that comes with them) from stone?

short answer is yes i think she’s a darker mirror to egg. but long answer-

the thing is…egg’s life does not end happily nor is his reign happily remembered. for one thing, egg is just like, hopelessly bad at politics and at keeping his dumb ass children under control.

There were other battles during the time of Aegon V, for the unlikely king was forced to spend much of his reign in armor, quelling one rising or another. Though beloved by the smallfolk, King Aegon made many enemies amongst the lords of the realm, whose powers he wished to curtail. He enacted numerous reforms and granted rights and protections to the commons that they had never known before, but each of these measures provoked fierce opposition and sometimes open defiance amongst the lords. The most outspoken of his foes went so far as to denounce Aegon V as a "bloodyhanded tyrant intent on depriving us of our gods-given rights and liberties." It was well-known that the resistance against him taxed Aegon's patience—especially as the compromises a king must make to rule well often left his greatest hopes receding further and further into the future. As one defiance followed another, His Grace found himself forced to bow to the recalcitrant lords more often than he wished. A student of history and lover of books, Aegon V was oft heard to say that had he only had dragons, as the first Aegon had, he could have remade the realm anew, with peace and prosperity and justice for all.

do i give a shit about the feelings of a bunch of spoiled lordlings who are mad that egg is trying to pass laws like "you're not allowed to starve the peasants"? no, fuck those dudes. but i'm not talking about "is egg a good person" or "does egg have good intentions" i'm talking about "is egg an effective ruler" and the answer is no. everything egg does is repealed just a few years after he dies. he's not unlike baelor in that he is loved by the smallfolk for his very short lived reforms but because he cannot get buy in from the lords, he spends most of his reign fighting them and losing. and as he keeps losing, what does he turn to? fire and blood. dragons.

The last years of Aegon's reign were consumed by a search for ancient lore about the dragon breeding of Valyria, and it was said that Aegon commissioned journeys to places as far away as Asshai-by-the-Shadow with the hopes of finding texts and knowledge that had not been preserved in Westeros.

What became of the dream of dragons was a grievous tragedy born in a moment of joy. In the fateful year 259 AC, the king summoned many of those closest to him to Summerhall, his favorite castle, there to celebrate the impending birth of his first great-grandchild, a boy later named Rhaegar, to his grandson Aerys and granddaughter Rhaella, the children of Prince Jaehaerys.

It is unfortunate that the tragedy that transpired at Summerhall left very few witnesses alive, and those who survived would not speak of it. A tantalizing page of Gyldayn's history—surely one of the very last written before his own death—hints at much, but the ink that was spilled over it in some mishap blotted out too much.

...the blood of the dragon gathered in one... ...seven eggs, to honor the seven gods, though the king's own septon had warned... ...pyromancers... ...wild fire... ...flames grew out of control...towering...burned so hot that... ...died, but for the valor of the Lord Comman...

Even putting aside the theories that perhaps Egg attempted to sacrifice a person and Dunk stopped it, at best Egg dies getting most of his family killed trying to being the dragons back.

And I’m not saying that Egg isn’t ya kno, a Good Egg, a Sweet Lil Goose who I love and adore for being a champion of the smallfolk. But this kid can't even get buy in the way Baelor did - he is straight up putting down rebellions left and right. He never manages to get the lords on his side or get them to stop grumbling. I’m sure he did SOME things that had a lasting change that we just haven’t heard about - it’s not like we knew about Alysanne building the fountains until F&B for example - but his legacy is someone who cared, someone who tried, and someone who failed because he couldn’t conceive of a solution outside of the feudal system he ruled over.

Does that sound familiar to you? It sounds eerily familiar to me! I think like Egg, our Dany is going to get increasingly frustrated when she can't just remake the world the way she wants (and if that doesn't also sound familiar, please go rewatch HOTD or re-read all my comparisons of how Viserys and Rhaenyra are also too convinced they can simply speak reality into existence!) and will turn to fire and blood to get the job done. but it won't work the way she wants it to, because the dragons are not a force of good anymore than they are a force for evil - they're animals, they're predators, they're barely sentient hyper emotional beings made of blood magic and fire and the experiments of old valyria, and every time she uses the dragons, people will die and dany will compromise or rationalize until she hits her breaking point,.

[seraph-of-sizes]

Freminet's B-Day One-shot

Takes place in the BHoDS AU, after the events of the main story, so keep an eye on it, you'll get a few sneak peaks at ideas I have for the main story ;)

As usual: Human Freminet, with borrowers Lyney and Lynette, with some extras as well this time ~

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

“Halt!” 

The twins lept out of their skins, hisses echoing in the small corridor. Eventually the light that had blinded them moved away, and their vision cleared enough to see a familiar face.

“Chevreuse.” Lyney sighed in relief as the woman raised an eyebrow.

“So, you want to tell me why you’re sneaking around the walls of the Palais Mermonia?” She asked, giving them a flat look. “The Special Patrol does have other borrower members, not just me y’know.”

“Well it’s good that we ran into you then, isn’t it?” Lyney grinned mischievously.

“We’re here to talk with Monsieur Neuvillette.” Lynette cut in, not wanting the conversation to drag on. “He heard Freminet’s birthday was soon and had one of the Melusines find us. We’re going to be arranging a surprise party.”

“Oh.” Chevreuse blinked, glancing at Lyney who nodded. “Makes sense, he did set up a break time outside of his usual routine, probably to cover up your meeting.” She sighed. “Fine, follow me.”

“So how is your lady-friend Chio-”

“BE QUIET.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••(@v@)••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh good, I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” The twins blinked as their eyes adjusted to the brighter light of Neuvillette’s office compared to the passageways in the walls.

“Oh they did sir.” They watched the Iudex turn in surprise at Chevreuse’s words, only to chuckle. 

“I must thank you then, Miss Chevreuse.” He smiled, taking a seat and crossing his legs. “If you would like to come closer, there are walkways to your left, if not that is perfectly fine. I can hear you from here.”

“I’ll be going back to my rounds, bye you two. Let me know about the party, I’ll see if I can rope some of my humans along.” Chevreuse grinned before ducking back into the walls.

An uneasy silence fell over the room, as the twins realized how little they actually knew about the figurehead of Fontainian Justice.

Neuvillette cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Young Freminet… is a member of the House of the Hearth, and as such I am not at much liberty to interact with him outside of our brief meetings on the streets of Fontaine. I am not all that familiar with his interests or taste in foods, but I can assist in arranging a venue that is safe for everyone to attend, as well as making certain certain individuals are invited in a timely manner with plenty of time to have the event without interfering with their work schedules.”

“That would be perfect.” Lyney relaxed, realizing someone actually capable was going to handle the main aspects, and he could enlist the Traveler’s help for the food and decorations. “Will you get that information to the Traveler when it's done? She’s been our main help.”

“Of course.” Neuvillette nodded.

They continued to discuss what the party would entail and who was to be invited, finally coming to an agreement.

“So the party shall be held in the Spina di Rosula’s base in the Fleuve Cendre the morning of the 21st. The list of attendees shall be sent to the Traveler who shall hand out the invitations.”

“We can work with that.” Lyney grinned. “Thank you Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Anytime.” The Iudex nodded before a loud knock sounded on the door to his office. “Seems my break time is over, be careful traversing the walls back outside, if you have any issues release a pulse of Neuma or Ousia, one of the Melusines will guide you.”

“Thank you.” The twins bowed before re-entering the walls, wincing as the soft voice of Furina began to chat with Neuvillette.

“She’s still recovering.” Lynette commented, the two having paused at the demure tone. “To have to fool an entire nation, cursed to live at a different size whenever someone looks at you, immortal only to fulfill a role in a play.”

“I heard Miss Clervie and her have met since the Great Flood. She’s still scared witless around Father, but that’s…fair.” Lyney winced. “I wonder what it’s like for her now, able to change her size so freely. It makes me a little…”

“Jealous?” Lynette crossed her arms, staring at her twin knowingly.

“...yes.” Lyney mirrored her, frowning. “I’ve never really wished to be human sized, but seeing someone else enjoying both walks of life, what if we could actually be Freminet’s siblings? Be able to comfort him properly? Hug him tight after a rough mission? Protect the Traveler, help her explore? Not have to rely on humans- all. of. the. time.” By the end Lyney’s words came out through gritted teeth.

“Because that’s not fair, and life is not fair. Especially to borrowers, especially to us.” Lynette countered. “We are enough as we are. Freminet knows that, the Traveler knows that, all of our other human and borrower friends know that.” She sighed, her ears folding back and her tail falling. “I can’t say I don’t wish for it too sometimes. But we cannot fold when we have a winning hand, that would be meaningless and stupid. So let’s… not do that.”

Lyney groaned. “You make me so angry, why did that make sense?”

“Easy.” Lynette snickered. “Because I’m amazing.”

“Alright- c’mere!” Lyney lunged at Lynette who jumped back before racing further into the wall, Lyney hot on her heels.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••(@v@)••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What took so long?” Freminet asked as the twins finally emerged from the marked entrance.

“Lyney is slow.” Lynette shrugged, gracefully dodging Lyney’s attempted tackle.

He grunted as instead of dirt, he fell onto the familiar warmth of Freminet’s hand. “And I said using your vision was cheating!” He grumbled as Freminet’s hand closed around him and lifted him up to the shining blue eyes of his brother. “What?”

“Mean.” Freminet fake-pouted. “The Traveler said she would be back soon, and that you took too long, so she was going to do her commissions real quick.”

“Left our poor brother all alone.” Lyney grumbled playfully, nudging at Freminet’s grip.

“In broad daylight, in the middle of the Court, with no more threat of Primordial Dissolution.” Lynette mocked.

Lyney began to fight against Freminet. “You’re so lucky I’m caught by a human right now!”

Freminet laughed brightly, causing the twins to freeze and look at him in awe. It was the happiest sound they had heard him make since they met. There was an ease of his shoulders, his face was smoothed of any worry, almost perfectly carefree.

“I thank the Archons everyday, that I met you two.” Freminet said softly after calming down, a smile still nestled on his face. “I couldn’t ask for anything else in the world more precious.”

The twins exchanged a look. 

“I’m glad we took the chance and trusted you.” They said in-sync. 

“Wow, that's so sweet.” The siblings twisted to see the Traveler who waved silently, as well as Paimon as she poked her head out of the Traveler’s scarf, smiling as she continued. “We got done pretty quick. One was actually from Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“That’s unusual, usually any commissions are  handled by the Melusines.” Freminet shrugged, gently picking up Lynette and unfurling his hands beneath the twins. “What was it for?”

“Just some documents that needed to be delivered to multiple people. We were the fastest option since the Traveler can use the waypoints.” Paimon explained.

“How is our dear Traveler today?” Lyney asked, turning to the Outlander. She blinked before shrugging, causing Paimon to shriek in protest.

“I’m fine.” She raised an eyebrow at the expectant silence. “Sorry, I… just got back from a trip to Sumeru and something just feels wrong at the moment, I just can’t place it.”

“Yeah Traveler didn’t sleep at all last night. It’s really worrying Paimon.” The tiny girl frowned.

“That’s not good, you need your rest.” Freminet hummed. “Especially you, you’re constantly running around, you’re bound to be exhausted.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you with this.” The Traveler shook her head and placed a hand over her heart. 

“It’s okay.” The siblings chuckled as they spoke in tandem. 

“Let’s go find somewhere I can set up a cooking pot, I’ll make us lunch.” The Traveler smiled.

“Yes! Food!” Paimon cheered, causing the group to laugh.

“It never ceases to amaze me how Paimon can eat a human-sized portion and still act hungry.” Lyney commented as the humans began to walk towards the north-west exit to the Court. “Where does it all go? Perhaps she can teach me a few new tricks.”

“Lyney.” Lynette groaned at the pun.

“What dear sister?” He teased, moving to poke her ticklish stomach, causing the girl to squirm before pouncing on her brother and further engaging in a tickle war.

Freminet just sighed as he moved his hands to contain them both, making them protest briefly at the sudden darkness before going back to play-fighting. He glanced at the Traveler who was fighting back laughter.

“You would think they’re the younger ones sometimes.” He said before laughing softly.

“They trust you so much.” She nodded, smiling back. “One thing I’ve learned about borrowers is that they are forced to grow up so quickly… them acting childish and playing is a testament to their belief that you will keep them safe so they can be at ease.” An unknown expression crossed her face as she turned away. “Protect that trust. Okay?”

“Of course.” Freminet nodded.

After a minute more of walking they came to a stop at a small wooded clearing, an obvious campsite.

“This is usually where I hide my Teapot when in Fontaine, if I’m in the area and its night time this is where you can usually find me.” The Traveler said, placing down a carpet and then summoning a cook pot that floated, likely some device she had picked up.

Freminet took the opportunity to pull his hands apart and fought to keep his expression calm as the twins were trying to fix their hair back from the disasters they had become.

“Do not laugh.” Lyney hissed at him. 

It only became harder as a soft snort escaped him, causing the Traveler to glance over and let out a sharp laugh.

“Damnit Freminet!” Lyney’s face quickly reddened and he buried it in his hands. Lynette began giggling at her twin, teasing him just out of Freminet’s hearing range.

“What are you making?” Freminet asked after a moment, curious at the various things the Traveler had laid out in preparation. 

“Just wait.” Was the reply.

Soon after, the Traveler presented several different dishes, a mish-mash of cuisine from the nations they had passed through. Freminet had watched in awe as Paimon did indeed inhale a massive portion of food relative to her size, meanwhile Lyney and Lynette picked their way through the dishes, trying them and eagerly talking about the differences. Though at some point a Sumerian dish caught them both off-guard with the spice levels and bottles of milk were opened.

Overall the meal was pleasant and Freminet found himself enjoying the Liyuen foods the most, besides the familiar Fontainian cuisine. He noticed the Traveler taking interest in the foods he did, asking him what he liked about each one. It felt oddly pleasant, to describe his likes and dislikes so casually. 

Soon enough the meal was finished, and Freminet got up to help the Traveler put everything away.

“Thank you.” She turned at the quiet words and shook her head.

“Don’t thank me, I like to cook. It’s one of the few skills that doesn’t really require specific knowledge, just an idea of an ingredient's flavor and preparation.” There was another unreadable emotion that passed in her eyes as she turned away. “I’m still not perfect with Teyvat’s Common language, so I may not have described that feeling very well.”

“I understand.” Freminet smiled, gazing down at the dish he was drying off. “I’m the same way with meka. I may not know exactly how everything works, but I know enough, and learning more is never boring.”

The Traveler hummed before hiding a yawn. 

“Traveler!” The two turned at Paimon’s yell, the blonde sighing as she reached up and caught the tiny girl mid-air. “It’s late, if you wait any later you won't sleep…” She pouted from the Traveler’s grip. “And Paimon can’t stand it if you don’t sleep, you have worse nightmares later.”

“Fine fine.”She sighed, sending a tired glance at Freminet. “It’s a bit far to trek back to the Court, I can get a Realm Dispatch for you and the twi-...Lyney and Lynette. If you want to, there's places for both sizes to sleep comfortably, Paimon made sure of that.”

Freminet noticed the stutter in the Traveler’s speech but knew better than to say anything, electing to nod. “I’ll ask them.”

“Alright.” He saw her pull out the Adeptal Teapot before he turned away to walk back to his siblings. 

“Everything alright?” Lyney asked, clamoring into Freminet’s offered hand, helping Lynette up as well. “Paimon took off when the Traveler yawned.”

“Yes, she just wanted the Traveler to go to bed while sleepy since if she doesn’t she may not sleep at all.” Freminet explained as he brought the twins up to his heart, hugging them softly against himself, feeling them begin to purr. “She invited us to sleep in the Teapot Realm, since it’s a bit far back to the Court.”

“Sounds nice, I’m tired.” Lynette hummed, already curling up against Lyney’s warmth, kneading at Freminet’s hand.

“I’m with Lynette on this one, I don’t think any of us would make it home anyhow.” Lyney chuckled.

“Fair enough.” Freminet smiled, walking towards the Traveler as she reappeared from the Teapot.

“Perfect timing. Are you joining us?” She asked, glancing amusedly at the twins in his hands. “They look as tired as I feel.”

“Yeah I think they’re ready to pass out and so am I admittedly.” Freminet glanced away bashfully. “Thank you for inviting us to stay.”

“Here.” He blinked as the Traveler placed a necklace carefully over his head. He glanced down at the wooden charm that hung from it. “It’s the Realm Dispatch, as long as you have it, you can tap on it while imagining the Teapot to teleport there. Any borrowers that are in reaching distance will be teleported too.” At his raised eyebrow she laughed. “Since Paimon flies it was just easier that way instead of constantly having to hold her to work.”

He hummed in understanding, smiling amusedly at that mental image. With a moment of coaching he finally got the charm to work, his eyes wide in awe at the Abode. It was decorated like a mini town center, with the Main House obvious as it towered over the other buildings.

He followed the Traveler, awe-struck into silence as they entered the Main House. She chuckled at him and led him to one of the many rooms, quietly pointing out the human bed and the borrower-accessible only alcove. She then left them alone to go to her own room and crash for the night.

“It’s so peaceful here. No wonder the Traveler can go so many places and look well-rested.” Lyney said before yawning. “Still, it’s late. C’mon dear sister, we just have to climb some steps.”

“Don’t wanna.” Lynette grumbled, but followed Lyney into the walls without much more fuss. Freminet listened before relaxing at the two solid knocks from higher up the wall, they had made it to their own room perfectly fine.

He slowly began to shed his unnecessary clothes and stored them in his inventory, switching to pajamas. He slowly crawled into the Mondstadt-styled bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••(@v@)•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A sharp breath filled Freminet’s lungs as he jack-knifed awake, his eyes wide as he felt Lyney and Lynette were not where they were last night, nor were they anywhere around him. His mind shot back to when Father had taken them without him even knowing, had it happened again?

Was the Traveler okay? If someone had snuck into the Abode and kidnapped his siblings, what else could they have done?

He threw on proper battle clothes as quickly as possible, feeling the sharp cold of Cryo wrapping around him, keeping him alert as he left the Abode, Claymore at the ready.

“SURPRISE!”

His heart stopped for a moment at the loud noise, only to zero in on his siblings, standing safely on a table, Lady Clervie standing behind them and smiling at him knowingly. As he relaxed he realized the ensemble of humans and borrowers, people that he had met and helped alongside the Traveler and throughout the Prophecy Crisis.

His eyes began to water as he dismissed his claymore, taking in the decorations that looked like Pers and Rosseland, the cake and treats. Dishes that he recognized as the ones that the Traveler had noted that he had enjoyed.

He smiled. “Thank you.”

He blinked as a hand settled on his shoulder, and he felt his heart leap back into his throat as Father stood beside him, her gaze sharp, only to soften slightly as her grip tightened slightly. “Happy Birthday, Freminet.”

“Happy Birthday!” Chorused through the room.

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 13

Nightmares or Visions

I think this prompt was very fitting for Nathan, giving that he canonically has horrific nightmares and haunting visions.

However, it is my belief that Toki has recurring nightmares as well, given his whole character, you know? And I wanted to write a little about it for today so...have a little Toki nightmare for this lovely Friday the 13th <3

Toki entered the living room and saw Skwisgaar was already sitting there. He hadn’t been noticed, though, as Skwisgaar’s back was to him, probably busy with the guitar. He started walking towards him.

“Hey, Skwisgaar!”

Apparently not having heard, Skwisgaar didn’t turn to him. Nothing out of the ordinary, Skwisgaar could get lost with the instrument.

Toki tried again. “Skwisgaar!”

Still nothing. Okay, a bit weird, however…

“Skwisgaar?”

After the third time of being ignored, Toki grabbed Skwisgaar’s shoulder with exasperation. “Heys.”

When Skwisgaar finally turned to him, Toki realized he wasn’t alone. Beside him, there was…

A monkey?!

“Oh, heys, Toke.” Skwisgaar seemed almost bored by the sight of him. “Meets Mr. Giggle.” He pointed at the animal sitting by his side. “He ams our news rhythms guitarists.”

Toki did a double take, wondering if he had misheard. “Whats?!”

The monkey waved at him with a grin. He had a Gibson Flying V on his lap, the same guitar Toki used, and wore a black bowtie on his hairy neck.

“He ams much mores disciplined and responsibkles d’an yous.” Skwisgaar explained, impassive. “And he alsos very funnies.” As if to demonstrate, the animal put the guitar on his head and started juggling with red balls, while carefully maintaining his balance.

Sighing, Toki looked at Skwisgaar. “Looks, Skwisgaar, if dis ams some kinds of jokes, I gets it, okays? Alls do betters-”

“Jokes?” Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow, as if insulted. “Dis amsnt a joke, Toki. The bands has discussed dis and we agreeds that he ams da best for Dethklok’s futores.”

“You ams lying!” Toki yelled. He fucking hated when Skwisgaar tried to freak him out. “I bets dat monkeys can’t plays guitar!”

Skwisgaar shook his head like Toki had disappointed him. “Soes arrosgant, as always.” Then, he turned to the monkey. “Shows dis little dildos, Mr. Giggle.”

Immediately, the creature started shredding like a maniac, then went on to play a solo that sounded like the kind of stuff Skwisgaar came up with. The speed and agility of his fingers was terrifying, not even in his best days had Toki been that good. 

Defeated, Toki fell to his knees. “Dis ams impossibles…”

“He ams a chimpanskees, by the ways.” Skwisgaar added, grimacing at Toki on the floor. “Comes here, you goofballs.”

Toki raised his eyes to see Mr. Giggles jump on Skwisgaar’s lap excitedly. Skwisgaar petted his head fondly. “Who ams da best rhythms guitarists in da worlds?” He cooed affectionately.

The chimpanzee barked, thumping his chest proudly. 

“Oh, look, it’s Mr. Giggles!” Pickles walked into the room, joined by Nathan and Murderface. “Aw, dood, he has a lil’ bow!” He pointed out with a smile. 

“You likes it?” Skwisgaar asked, elated. “I pickeds it especially for him.”

“It’s fucking brutal.” Nathan commented.

“That guy schure knowsch how to rock.” Even Murderface agreed. None of them spared a glance at Toki, like he wasn’t even there.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned to see who it was, Charles was giving him his usual emotionless look. “We put all your stuff in boxes.” Two Klokateers holding several boxes were behind him. “And I, uh, took the liberty to call a cab for you.” 

“Yous kicking me out?!” Toki screeched, standing up. The guys kept playing with Mr. Giggles next to him, completely unbothered by the commotion.

Charles gestured at some Klokateers by the door, moving furniture, clothes and decorations. “Mr. Giggles needs, uh, space for all his possessions. I’m afraid you no longer have a room.”

“Alls stay in de basements!” Toki clasped his hands together, pleading. “Please, don’ts kicks me out! I has nowheres to go!”

Moderately concerned, Charles put a hand on his chin. “I guess you could turn into a Klokateer. But, the…the conditions are gonna be harsh, Toki.” He stared at him with his cold robot eyes. “Are you sure you can take it? There are no second chances.”

Toki swallowed heavily. He imagined himself doing Pickles’ laundry, stained in vomit, pee and substances. Cleaning Skwisgaar’s room after a busy night, the smell of sex in the air, his monstrous seed all over the sheets and pungent underwear scattered across the floor.  Washing Murderface’s disgusting feet and accidentally bursting its blisters, a mix of blood and pus dripping on his fingers. Throwing Nathan’s garbage after a night of spicy food and way too many chips. God, he didn’t want to work for these assholes.

He turned to look at Skwisgaar. The guy was playing with Mr. Giggles, tickling him and laughing. “Skwisgaar, please…” He got on his knees, ready to beg. “Alls do anythings, just let me stay in da bands, please!”

Skwisgaar side-eyed at Toki coldly, stopping the frolicking. The chimpanzee snarled at him while holding onto Skwisgaar possessively. “Why can’ts you accekpts dat it ams over, Toki?” He asked, stroking Mr. Giggles’ back while glancing at Toki like he was some pathetic creature or something.

“Because I don’ts wants to be replaced by a fucking monkeys!” Toki shouted, momentarily losing control. He winced at himself. “Sorries…”

“Gets up, Toki.” Skwisgaar said and he had no choice but to obey. Nathan, Pickles and Murderface were now paying attention to the exchange. An evil smirk spread across Skwisgaar’s face and Toki had a bad feeling in his gut. “I hereby perform citizens band-firing…” The chimpanzee nodded maniacally with his words. “Effective…..now!”

The walls of the house, of the universe even, cracked. “No!” Toki cried out in despair, losing his balance and falling backwards. The cracks were revealing black voids in between, slowly unraveling the fabric of Toki’s world. “No!” He cried out again.

Unbothered, Skwisgaar turned to his new pet lovingly. “Oh, and Mr. Giggle.” He said. “You can gets a solo.”

Toki himself felt his own body cracking in half. “Nooooo!!” He screamed, the last thing he saw being the ugly animal and Skwisgaar entangled in a passionate embrace. 

“Ahh!!” He woke up, drenched in sweat and fear.

Startled by the noise, Skwisgaar and his guitar jolted next to him. “Da fucks, Toki?!” He asked, visibly annoyed.

It took Toki a few seconds to understand where he was. The living room again? “Wh-Where ams Mr. Giggle?!” He asked. “Don’t replaces me with a monkeys!” He grabbed Skwisgaar by the neckline of his shirt and shook him.

“L-Lets goes off me, idiots!” Skwisgaar tried to push him away to no avail.

“Don’t replaces me with a fucking monkeys!”

“What da fucks ams you saying?!”

“Alls does anythings, I swears!”

“Gets off me, Toki!”