#cruel. and like sorry for caring about my own feelings lol

[softshuji]

You guys have probably noticed that I never write angst that has no comfort. I don't know why it just hurts too much to think that it doesn't have a happy ending, that my favs might hurt me in that way without making up with me. I see so many people saying or rather inferring that adding comfort to angst weakens it or that "proper" angst has no comfort at all, but a) I kinda disagree and while it's fine if that's what others prefer, I don't think it's something I can ever write. The y/n in my fics is me, she's always me, and I put a shit tonne of myself into my work (as everyone does!) I just think it hurts too much to imagine a scenario where I'm actively being hurt (in some way) by my faves without some resolution. I don't think it weakens anything in any way.

[mtt-burger-emporium]

thinking about chara and the implications of the line "chara hated humanity. why, they never said..." like ok i KNOW something was happening at home. chara baby you didn't deserve that shit i'm so glad you fell down a thousand feet in a cave hole and right into the arms of people who would keep you fed roof over your head and would never raise their hand against you. "eradicate humanity" you're 10 years old how about eradicating your shitfucked surface fam by calling cps first

[piplupod]

mistakes were made. should not have gone to library today. i will be leaving the house all five days of the week now (plus we went to a waterside on sunday for several hours) and uhm... i feel like i need to go hibernate for several weeks to feel even remotely okay again fhdkdl i am so tired i can barely think enough to string words together in any comprehendable way 🧍<- upset

[8lah8lah]

"both sides of shipcourse are wrong" says person about to not bat a fucking eye when someone on one side gets chased off the fucking internet and doxxed and told they deserve assault for liking ships that are abusive in a way they dont immediately understand/relate to. "shipping discourse is just sooo dumb and immature" says person about to fucking gasp and scream and tell all their mutuals and post "STOP putting ***** on my dash in 202_" vagues like A Gross Drawing Existing In The World is going to singlehandedly groom and traumatize and enable and Normalize everything for everyone on the planet simultaneously for simply being put out there and it being out there is a category 10000 mental safety hazard that they must bravely defend people from. "youre stupid if you care about ship discourse lmao" posts brave tumblr user about to get really upset publically over One person they saw shipping a like, 4-year age gap between two fictional chars that's there if you Squint, an opinion that Clearly has NOTHING to do with very specifically one side of the discourse

[moonstruckme]

The other day I fell down the stairs of my building and had to just like. Get back up and go to work and my knees are all fucked up and I’m so sore. Do you think you could write doctor!remus or casual dom Remus when his girl tells him about it hours later? Or whatever you think is best story wise lol.

Don’t worry about it if not, your writing is literally my absolute favourite right now, you are so amazing!! -angie

Hi Angie, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 666 words (oooo)

When the car stops, Remus won’t let you get out on your own, which is embarrassing even though there’s no one but him around to witness it. Remus is overall in a horribly embarrassing mood. 

Though you tried to hide it, you’d noticed him noticing the stiffness in your legs as you walked out to his car after work, and before you’d had a chance Remus had reached over and buckled your seatbelt himself. The whole drive home he’d been spooky silent, occasionally shooting narrow-eyed looks to the blood stains on your work pants. 

“I’m okay,” you try to reason with him now, when he sets his hands on your hips to take some of your weight. “I’ve been walking all day, baby.” 

“I know, that’s worse.” Your boyfriend is huffy. He seems to be contemplating fully picking you up and carrying you inside. 

You press your lips together while he supports you the rest of the way to the door, holding you firmly to his side when he needs one hand to unlock it. The two of you go straight to the bathroom, where the dress you were originally going to wear to work today still lies on the floor. Remus frowns but doesn’t comment. 

When you’d taken a tumble on the concrete stairs outside your apartment this morning, you’d been running too late to be concerned with anything but looking presentable and getting to work. Your dress left your bloody knees exposed and made you feel like a child fallen from their bike, so you’d screwed up your mouth and forced a pair of work pants on over the burning cuts, then changed into an appropriate top to match. Your knees have been alternately stinging and aching all day, and when walking back home from work seemed too much you’d called your boyfriend for a ride. He seems determined to make you regret it. 

“Sorry,” you murmur after he lifts you onto the counter. 

Remus looks at you. “What for?” The question isn’t patronizing or a test. He wants to know. 

“For not telling you.” 

He sighs softly, looking down to fiddle with the button of your pants. You trace the cruel line of a scar from his forehead down to his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t mind so much if you’d taken the time to clean them properly,” he says. “But if you were in my place—lift your hips for me, love—and I called you to say I couldn’t get home by myself because I’ve been hurting all day and not done anything about it, wouldn’t you be a bit distraught?”

“I would,” you admit. You suck in a quiet breath when he starts pulling your pants down over your knees. 

“Sorry,” he says, unsticking the fabric from your ruined skin as gently as he can. They slide the rest of the way down far easier, and Remus kisses his teeth when your knees are revealed. “Dovey.” He sounds equal parts pitying and disappointed. 

“Sorry.” 

“Let’s stop trading apologies.” There’s the barest hint of humor in your boyfriend’s tone as he finishes tugging your pants off your ankles, letting them puddle on the floor and leaving you in your underwear. The countertop is cold on your bare skin. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, careful of your knees as he leans forward to give you a kiss. “I’m not going to ask you not to do it again—although I hope you won’t—because I know you, but I get that you’re sorry, sweetheart.” His thumb swipes over the unbroken skin above your knee, lips turning down unhappily. “I’m sorry you hurt yourself, and that you’ve been in pain. I promise to try and lecture you about it as little as possible, okay?” 

You can’t help but smile, your voice coming out wry. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, dove.” He gives your hip a condescending little pat. “You can make it up to me by sitting still while I take care of these and tell you about infection.” 

[spncvr]

HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?

Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭

rambles | s. reid

summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO

masterlist

YOU CAN FEEL it.

In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 

You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 

“You okay?” 

You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.

“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 

You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”

The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”

“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—

“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”

Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.

You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”

“I don’t know,” he says simply.

Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.

“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”

Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 

“I love listening to you talk.”

Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.

as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)

[bluesylveon2]

The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones. 

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after." 

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad. 

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed. 

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think. 

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her. 

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver. 

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her. 

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them. 

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.  

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten. 

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan. 

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence. 

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding. 

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls. 

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush. 

"I think he was exaggerating." 

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up. 

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down. 

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer. 

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him. 

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out. 

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know. 

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull. 

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp. 

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him." 

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent. 

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs. 

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry. 

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes." 

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there." 

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it. 

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them. 

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright. 

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room. 

"So, Yuu, can you cook?" 

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy. 

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile. 

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness. 

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[rainylana]

“See you in home room.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: an interesting interaction between you and your bully on the bus.

warnings: bully!eddie, he’s a meanie, language, smut, public fingering, spanking in a smut flashback, enemies to lovers trope, dirty talk.

a/n: i’ve been obsessed with bully eddie i hope you’re living for these posts as much as i have been lmfao. also really happy with how this turned out i’m in love lol.

Your relationship with Eddie was special. Well, not special, and it wasn’t a relationship. More of a…situation-ship. You hated each other’s guts. You despised him and he despised you. He was cruel to you, picked on you and called you horrible names. You took it, turned the other cheek and buried all your horrible thoughts about him deep down, clutching your cross necklace every time you did so.

You hated it, but your feelings for Eddie had slowly developed over time. He touched you in ways that no man had ever before, said things to you that made your skin shiver. Eddie just knew how to do it right. He was a cocky bastard about it, too. He knew he was good. Your situation had started when you moved. Two years ago, from california to hawkins, indiana.

Today was not a good day, one where for the first time in forever, you didn’t want Eddie’s attention, nor did you want anyones. You had so much homework, finals to study for, chores to attempt at when you got home. It was just one of those days where you felt overstimulated and stressed. Normally, Eddie knew how to take care of you.

You couldn’t really remember the first time you had slept with him. After a heated brawl led a steaming make out, turning into a quickie that had rocked your world. And that was that. But Eddie made one thing clear to you everytime he was done fucking you. He always said he hated you. Sometimes he’d spit in your mouth when he’d say it, smack your ass or yank your hair.

Today however, you didn’t want any of that. You wanted to be left alone.

You were seated on the backseat of the school bus, rocking back and forth as you and everyone else bounced from the roughness of the gravel road. You stared out the window, sad and depressed, mind unfocused and stressed. Eddie made the mistake of plopping down beside you.

“Do you have it?” He smacked his gum.

You didn’t look at him as you unzipped your backpack and pulled out the biology homework, giving it to him to copy on his own worksheet.

“Sweet.” He nodded to himself, taking it from your hands as he pulled out a pencil from his pocket.

You turned back to look out the window, ignoring his presence. You’d learned long ago not to interfere with him copying your work. He’d make you pay if you did. Besides, you typically adored the attention he gave you for it, even if he was a mean son of a bitch.

“Why so quiet?” He continued to copy down answers, tongue sticking out.

“Huh?” Your eyes squinted from the sun.

“You’re quiet.” He retorted. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s actually quite nice, but it’s odd since you don’t ever stop yapping. So what is it?” He still didn’t look at you, his thick, veiny arm brushing against yours.

You didn’t roll your eyes like you normally did. “Oh.” You blinked. “Sorry.”

“You on your period?” He gave you a quick glance through his lashes.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh my, god, just- just hurry up.”

He snickered and nodded. “So that’s a yes.”

“No,” You huffed. “I’m tired. Not that it’s any of your business.”

His pencil tapped against the paper before he put it back in his pocket. When he finally looked at you, his face was solemn as he handed you back the paper. “You’re awful mouthy today.”

You couldn’t help but glance at his lips. He didn’t miss it, either.

“Do you need anything else?” You raised your chin daringly. “Because I sure don’t feel like dealing with your shit today.”

“My, my,” He raised a brow. “She’s awful brave today.” His words made your thighs warm. It was hard to stay in a bad mood when he looked at you like that.

“I’m just trying to make it through the day, Munson.” You rolled your eyes, looking forward.

“Well,” He licked his lips. “I don’t think I need to remind you what happened the last time you smarted off to me, so I’d tread lightly, sweetheart.” He hooked a finger under your chin and turned your face back to him.

Your cheeks burned at the memory.

“I said count them or I’m starting over.” Eddie warned, hand squeezing the flesh of your ass as he smacked it hard. You squealed, crying out against his lap that you were bent over. He’d been at it repeatedly, bringing his thick hands down over and over, all because you’d directed one little curse word at him.

“I can’t,” You blubbered, snot and tears dripping down into your lips and onto the floor of the abandoned drama room. “Please, Eddie- touch me,”

“No,” He said sternly, continuing your punishment with a heavy hand. “You haven’t earned it, but you have earned this.”

He watched the memory replay in your eyes and he smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced, you looked down to his lips again, moving in slightly.

“Ah, ah,” He pushed you back gently. “You know the rules.”

You did. He made them loud and clear every chance he got. No one was to know of your business with him. He didn’t like people knowing what he did with you. You wondered maybe if it was because he cared about you. He loved the admirational look you got in your eyes when you looked at him, like you’d be willing to do anything for him. Even take a life. It made him unbelievably hard.

His hand went to your thigh, dangerously close to your pussy. “But since my good girl is having a hard day, maybe I can bend the rules for once, huh?”

Your stomach ached at his words as you nodded. You leaned back in for a kiss.

“No,” He rolled his eyes, making you frown. “Keep your eyes to the front. Make sure no one sees.”

You were confused with his instructions, but you listened and looked to the front with a beat red face. There wasn’t very many kids left on the bus, only the byers and your neighbors.

You gasped when his fingers went up your skirt, and he pinched your skin as a warning. “Keep it down,” He said sternly. “Gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, keeping your eyes trained forward, hands gripping the seat as his fingers grazed the fabric of your underwear.

“What happens when you’re not a good girl?” His padded thumb swiped over your clit, his index finger moving aside your panties to dip into your warm cunt.

“I get punished.” Your lips parted into in o shape.

“You like when I punish you?” He asked, curiosity peaked in the back of his throat.

Your belly twisted as he entered a finger inside of you, his thumb working quickly on your clit.

“Hurry,” You blinked, whining as your house got closer and closer.

“Quit your whining or I’ll stop.” He growled. “Be a good girl.” He did as you asked, however, devoted to you in his own sick ways as he fingered you sloppily and quickly.

You leaned back into your seat, hands on your knees to spread your legs apart. Your slick cunt was easy for him to enter his other digits inside of you at a quick pace, and he kept his eyes on you the entire time, making sure you kept yours at the front of the bus. He thrusted them in and out, the loud squelch of your arousal only heard by the his ears.

His thumb pressed against your clit like a button, pressing and pushing, making you pulse and shake. He let you look away when your orgasm came, and you shriveled up into a ball, bending your body over against the seat.

He pulled his fingers out and wiped the shiny wetness off on your skirt. “See you in home room.” He smirked before standing, leaving you a hot, sweaty mess as your house finally came into view.

[httpskuzuu]

if your not busy then can you make more yandere chuuya l'm down bad for him lol!😭

The best gift

can we give reader a therapy session? thanks

Yandere!Chuuya x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

summary: Chuuya just wants to make you happy (I love that man)

tw: failed escape attempt, mention of punishment, broken leg, feelings of abandonment? idk

He couldn't be more fed up with you.

I mean, he loves you, but the fact that you are always unwilling to correspond to him is something that really hurts him deeply.

He even thought of locking you up in complete darkness, no light, no food. He wanted you to crawl to him afterward and ask him to get you out. He wanted to make you say you loved him.

He never got around to putting that plan into action, obviously. He's not that horrible! He's not a monster. He really loves you.

Sure anyone would put you through the most grotesque tortures to make you submissive. But he was different, you should appreciate him more.

As much as he knows you have reasons, he still finds it completely overkill because, come on, you have everything you want just by asking nicely! Everything but freedom, of course.

You want expensive clothes? Okay. You want diamond jewelry? In less than five seconds, you'll have them in your hands. Want to travel to exotic destinations? He's taking you, just don't leave his side.

All he asks is a little obedience from you, it's not that hard, is it? He's looking out for your happiness too, the more submission from you, the better quality of life. It's a win-win.

But you didn't seem to understand that.

You were in bed, lying there, not wanting to move an inch of your body. Chuuya broke your leg just two days ago. The pain was unbearable.

You didn't talk to him since that, well, except for the moment he broke it. You cried to him and begged him, as silly as it sounds, to make the pain stop.

You wished Chuuya was some mythical God so he could fulfill your earlier request.

The pain didn't make you think well, so you were crying to Chuuya, talking about your cat and how much you missed him. Chuuya was by your side, stroking your hair, listening to you attentively.

You always mentioned your cat, how you wanted him with you now, how much you loved him. In fact, most of the time when an argument happened, it was because you mentioned that you wanted to go home with your cat!

Was an animal really that important to you? Well, if it made you happy, Chuuya would bring it home. Maybe then you'd stop crying randomly throughout the day, or fighting him. Imagining you, a fighter, turning into someone with a more passive behavior just because of a cat, drove him crazy.

Chuuya warned you that he was leaving, but that he would be back quickly, he left you a pain pill along with a glass of water. He hoped you would notice that he was not so cruel, after all, he could have left you lying on the floor, with two broken legs instead of just one, as was his idea at the beginning.

You were left alone in the house. You had never felt more lonely and bad in your life. Your friends, your family, your pet, what will become of them?

You feel miserable, left to your own devices. Why didn't they come for you? Did they care about you in the first place? You were sure there should have been an investigation into your disappearance by now, but what if there wasn't? What if you weren't important enough to them?

Were you that hard to love? But Chuuya loved you, in an obsessive way, but he did. Wouldn't that be the purest kind of love?

You don't know why you keep fighting, but it's something normal in you, like something wrapped in your DNA. You feel attacked, helpless, by something bigger that can't be stopped, so you grit your teeth trying to feel safe. It's not working the same for you anymore.

You didn't try to escape because this life was bad. You tried to escape because you didn't want to be forgotten by others. What kind of life is one in which you are a ghost trapped?

But you are not selfish, you hope they are doing well. You hope they have the happiness you can't seem to achieve.

You cried until you heard the door open. You hadn't noticed that Chuuya had come home.

You looked at him for a few seconds, he had with him a black gift box, tied with a ribbon. You didn't want gifts, you didn't want jewelry that could buy you.

Sure, that was until you heard a meow come out of the box. You stopped crying almost automatically and looked at it in surprise. You could even feel the glint settling in your eyes.

Chuuya pretended not to hear the meowing. "Why didn't you take the pill? You can't complain about the pain and then be stubborn enough not to take it."

"What's in the box?"

"A present for you. I thought it might make you happier." He sat on the edge of the bed, resting the box on his legs. "You know, I don't like to see you cry."

His gloved hand reaches to your cheek and wipes away the tears. There is an impulse in your body to fight, to refuse to be touched, but you stayed still.

Chuuya put the box on the bed next to you. You struggle and manage to sit up in bed, your leg throbbing with pain, but you ignore it. You have more important things to do now.

You don't even look at Chuuya for approval to open the box, you just open it. And there it is, your faithful friend who always stood by your side. Your cat.

You cry again.

Your cat seems happy to see you again, he nuzzles his head against your hand affectionately and meows at you. You take him in your arms and hug him.

"Do you like the present?" Chuuya's voice comes through in the place only ruled by your sobs. Of course you like it, how could you not? You missed this kitten so much, it had been so long since you hadn't seen him.

You nod your head. "Very much, I like it very much. Thank you Chuuya." Your voice shakes from the sobs, but that doesn't matter anymore.

You don't have to keep staying defensive when you have a friend with you.

"I thought maybe your cat could help you to be calmer, to stop fighting."

There was always something hidden. Chuuya wanted to see you happy, of course, but if he could gain some of that happiness from you, he would gladly do so.

You nod again. "Yes, it will help me." You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you smile.

It looks like you're both happy for once.

[mikuni14]

Jack & Joker - Ep 7

This episode was extremely hard for me to watch, because it's like someone took the tropes I hate the most and decided to put them here one by one. Lack of communication, misunderstanding, saying something horrible about a loved one when don't mean it and they hear it, a love triangle, a love triangle with a girl in a BL series, noble sacrifice, noble, stupid and unnecessary sacrifice, being mean for a "noble" purpose to protect a loved one by rejecting them, heartbreaking fights, jealousy, the pain of rejection, suffering alone. I hate every single one of these things and a series that I like so, so much decided to throw them all into one episode, at once. So it's easy to imagine that I'm not having a good time 💀

So many bad things happened in this episode that I started crying at the end, it was just too much. What really depressed me was that many of these things were unnecessarily bad, and there was a kind of malice in them that was hard to watch on screen.

I had some understanding (not excuse - understanding) for Save in the last episode, but then I didn't know all the facts. Now I have only contempt for him, because he is simply stupid and cruel in what he does. Save didn't even arrange something specific for Hope, or even for himself, which is exceptionally stupid, since he literally sold his soul to the devil - as it turns out, for nothing. On top of that, he didn't have to include Joke in his schemes, my jaw just dropped when after everything he did to Jack and his grandma, he himself, without being asked, says to Boss that there is one more dude who can mess with your plans, like bitch fr? Save dangerously plays god, messing with people's lives (in grandma's case - her LITERAL life) and for whom, for his boyfriend who works for the mafia and openly says that he actually likes doing it and unlike Jack - is a real loan shark who beats people (his behavior radicalized Tattoo). Hope was beaten, which is a risk of the profession he does, he wasn't beaten up randomly on the street for money, or bullied at a regular job., ffs! But what Save will never earn my forgiveness for is that for the sake of unclear privileges for his boyfriend 1) he could've killed an innocent person 2) he destroys the lives - and I want to emphasize this - LITERALLY DESTROYS THE LIVES of 3 innocent people. And not that I like Rose, but it also affects her life. Thus, grandma, Jack, Joke and Rose are just pawns, a colateral damage in his plans, for his own personal gain.

SAVE IS LIKE TEE FROM DFF. Sorry, but just as I had no sympathy for those guys, I have no sympathy for Save. He doesn't have to do this, he doesn't have to do such cruel and plainly evil things, he doesn't have to be so zealous, such an "employee of the month doing 200% of the norm" lol. It's very interesting that Save, instead of persuading Hope to leave this job and even run away, since he's oh so worried about him, directs his efforts to protect him, by harming others - others who are in the same or worse situation as he is.

..........

This whole marriage plot is so silly and soap opera and that's how I decided to treat it, so that I could still like this show 😅. Gods, it's just so stupid and when Jack initially didn't agree, I was so happy that finally, a voice of reason, and yet.. I don't know how Boss and Jack imagine doing this? I mean technically and.. just… generally???? How Jack plans to marry a woman he doesn't care about (with potential sex? children????) and at the same time follow Boss's orders, while being, you know, himself??? Not to mention that there is a whole ass person in this puzzle: Rose? And I'm not even mentioning Grandma, who is not stupid - how will she feel knowing that Jack literally sold himself for her health? From Jack's words in this episode, I gather that he is more or less aware of Joke's feelings. And I'm a little upset about the fact that Jack hurts him so much, knowing this. And his "noble motives" do not excuse him, because Jack leaves scorched earth behind him, destroys people around him and HIMSELF. And it will get even worse, because there will be no way out of this situation, in which he is digging himself deeper and deeper, which is what Joke was trying to tell him. Jack does something I particularly hate: he "sacrifices himself nobly" but he is really selfish in this sacrifice, because he doesn't ask if anyone actually wants his sacrifice it's The Sign all over again, fuck. And the fact that he does all this alone, officially, to protect his loved ones, shows that he really doesn't trust those close to him, that they can either help him, or that they could decide for themselves. And although I don't like Rose, Jack is ready to marry her without love, for his benefits, which is... suddenly not so noble, right Jack?

I know that all this is the law of slightly exaggerated TV romances, because if Jack had trusted Joke and his grandma and talked to them, maybe together they would have figured out another way to get money for her treatment, but then again, there wouldn't have been all this drama 🙄

But Jack didn't even try.

And he's really getting to the point where even if he wanted to stop, he wouldn't be able to, and even if he somehow managed to, there would be nothing to save, because everyone would be too hurt by him to forgive him. And he's so blinded by fear and the belief that he's doing the right thing that he doesn't even see it.

The approach of Save, Jack and Joke to situations when they feel they have no choice is very interesting. Save sacrifices others without hesitation, Jack sacrifices himself (consciously) and others (unconsciously), Joke sacrifices himself. Joke is truly selfless in all of this, because he is able to humiliate himself in front of his father for someone he cares about, work for pennies, but legally, as Jack wants, when things are very bad, he still feels duty towards the grandma - a person, who was kind to him. Whatever he does, he's alone in it, he doesn't involve others, any harm falls only on him. Apart from that, he blames himself for everything...

...........

Despite everything that the series has shown in tis ep, and which I actively hate, I cannot but praise the series for a few things:

the actors gave it their all in this episode, especially in the micro-expressions on the faces of Jack, Joke and Save, when you can see that they are trying to hide what they are going through

as always, I have to praise the incredibly accurate socio-political-economic background of the series. That there is always a bigger shark in the pool, the total detachment from reality of the rich and that they do NOT WANT to know this reality and that they don't really care. How easily the poor fall into a spiral of debt, a system of dependency, passivity caused by constantly hitting a wall and helplessness in the face of constant adversity (how Jack did not even consider other methods of obtaining money, but went straight to Boss)

that in reality it's so easy to manipulate the poor, who ultimately harm themselves and each other, which is exploited by the elites. The elites know that it's enough to set people against each other and they will jump at each other's throats, doing all the dirty work for them, while they feast on exquisite dishes in beautiful interiors, in expensive clothes. Tattoo, Save, even Jack, do what is expected of them on their own, and their actions negatively affect… themselves and people like them. This is a very brutal and gloomy conclusion to this series, unfortunately also very realistic. Because the rich, the elites know that a divided, depressed society that lives in fear is easier to manipulata and control. Becasue if Jack, Joke, Tattoo, Hoy, Save and Hope joined forces, they would probably be able to oppose Boss, to come up with something for themselves. And so from the beginning we see how their various selfish actions throw themselves and others like them under the bus. Because really, as sad and awful as it may sound, neither Boss nor even Rose could have done anything if not for the significant "help" from Tattoo and Save

the unexpected, but weirdly compelling het ship 😆

Finally, the most beautiful scene. I really appreciate the choice of shots in this scene, especially when only the hands are framed and the focus is on them, without showing the face… 💖

Why can't they be like this all the time 🥺

[restinslices]

Hey sorry I’m the Liu Kang requester that accidentally put you through a tone of pain (sorry bout that)

Gimme angst of him seeing the woman he loves dying and getting reincarnated over and over again and no matter what she keeps dying in his arms by unnatural causes. This is his last time, his final try to save her. Will he save her? Or will she die again?

Firstly, no need to apologize lol. I’m just brain empty 6/7 days of the week. Funny enough, once you sent this I got more ideas for Liu Kang so we’ll see more of him once I finish all my requests. Secondly, I really like this prompt. I really like this trope in general. But I feel like I wrote it so bad😭. I don’t feel like I did it justice. As I was writing it I was like “the hoes not gon like this. Why is my brain buns?”. So, apologies in advance-

When Liu Kang returned with Raiden after speaking to the Elder Gods, the last thing he expected was to see a blood bath caused by Sindel. 

Bodies laid on the floor perfectly still. It was like someone laid a bunch of mannequins down and dressed them up to look exactly like the kombatants he cared for, and honestly if this was all just some cruel joke and everyone stood up and laughed, he would've breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the anger would kick in later, but he'd sigh and say how happy he was to see everyone still alive. 

The only body that moved was yours. 

Your legs moved very slightly and your voice was so quiet, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to hear it if he wasn't silenced by shock. 

He ran over to you and crouched by your side, “you are alright” he tried to offer both of you some sort of hope even if he knew it was not true. In reality you looked terrible. There was a deep slash that went from the side of your neck and diagonal down your body. Blood covered your clothes and soaked the floor beneath you and in all honesty, he had no idea how you were still alive. Perhaps it had something to do with the theory about animals. He wasn't calling you an animal and he didn't see you as a pet, but there was a theory that pets waited for their owner to return to them before they died instead of dying on their own. No one knew why. For comfort in their final moments? To say goodbye? For one last moment together? It was a question that would never get an answer and Liu Kang wondered if that theory went for friends and lovers as well. 

“Don't speak. Preserve your strength. We'll find you help”. Your hand went up to caress his face and Liu Kang leaned into it, his face memorizing how your fingers felt against him. He wanted to have hope. You were strong enough to raise your hand to him so surely you'd be ok if they got you medical attention. 

That hope was snipped from him within seconds. 

As quickly as your hand raised, it fell back to the floor and your body went limp. That was it. There was no inspiration speech you gave before you died or some emotional moment he'd see in the plays he watched. It was over as soon as it started. 

Your death upset him, yes. What really pushed him over the edge though is that his trip to the Elder Gods meant nothing. Shao Khan got closer and closer to invading Earthrealm and the Elder Gods refused to intervene. Their absence should've meant something. He should've came back with good news, but instead he came back with no answers, no help, no idea what to do next and hardly any friends left. 

Your death plus the others is what ultimately led him to going against Raiden and his own untimely death.  

In one universe, that was it. His pain was over. Liu Kang died, Earthrealm was invaded and Shao Khan killed everyone else. It's not what he wanted but being dead meant no more sorrow. Your bloody body was no longer imprinted in his mind and he would never touch his own face while imagining it was your hand again. 

That's what happened in that timeline. 

In another timeline, things were different, yet you still fell victim to a brutal fate. 

The past and present merged for reasons unknown. You, Liu Kang and Kung Lao were sent to the Academy to make sure your enemies would not reach the Grotto. After dealing with traps, Scorpion and a Revenant Jade, he could feel how tense you were. 

“You are silent” he stated, “it is not like you to be so silent”

“It's nothing”. You responded too quickly, but Liu Kang knew you. Sure, you could be quiet at times but completely silent? Your face bunched together? Fingers tapping against your leg as you walk? It wasn't “nothing” and he was sure he knew what you were thinking. It was something both you and Kung Lao seemed to think. Kung Lao had just been the only one to voice his concerns. 

“They were mistakes-”

“How many mistakes can one person make?” You interrupted, “how many lives can be lost because of 'mistakes’? Raiden seems to make constant mistakes that hurt everyone around him, yet he escapes”. He understood your frustration. After all, he was told Raiden murders him himself, but was it murder if it was an accident? Could any of this be pinned on Raiden, the man he worships and respects?

No. This wasn't on him. Everyone made mistakes and some of your deaths weren't on Raiden at all. Some of you made your own stupid choices that led to your death. His version of Raiden would never do something so foul to any of his followers on purpose. 

Liu Kang grabbed your hand -ignored Kung Lao's immature disgusted noises- and stopped the both of you from walking any further. “You can't lose faith in Lord Raiden”, you went to protest but he stopped you “if you want to blame him, then you have to blame me as well”. 

You looked even more displeased than before, like he had said something treacherous. Was it though? Liu Kang didn't blame Raiden when it came to all of your deaths. He blamed himself. He's Earthrealm's champion, the chosen one if you will, and he couldn't save anyone? Wasn't that the point of him? To save everyone and give everyone a sense of hope? 

Then his mind went to his Revenant self. In this timeline he saw his friends slaughtered like pigs and lived with this guilt, even if it was only for a short while. And now they were all revenants and Liu Kang couldn't help but wonder if this twisted version of himself still carried that guilt or did he see it as a blessing now? 

Your fingers touching his cheek brought him back to reality, but that calming feeling only lasted so long. He didn't know how to describe it or why he was feeling this way, but he felt this tenseness all over his body like something terrible was going to happen. 

“Why would I blame you for my death?”

That tense feeling became worse and he couldn't help but look around as he spoke, “I accompanied Lord Raiden to speak with the Elder Gods. If I had been there, then perhaps…” he didn't have to finish for you to understand. You snapped your fingers in front of his face and drew his attention back to you, 

“I don't blame you for my death”

“And I don't blame you either. How sweet” Kung Lao said impatiently, sarcasm seeping through his words. “Now can we keep walking?”. He supposed he was right, even if he hated it. Before he started walking again, you placed a kiss on his cheek and Kung Lao once again voiced his disgust with sarcasm, “can I give you a kiss too?”. 

“Something you wish to tell us, Kung Lao?” You joked and if it wasn't for the danger you three were in, he'd say he was really enjoying the quality time you three were spending together. 

Kung Lao went to respond, but was interrupted when a figure came into view. A man with brown skin and these weird cracks that made him seem like he had been broken and put together multiple times and golden clothing. He was tampering with something he should not have been and Liu Kang knew he was in for another fight. 

“Is there any point to us asking you to put those back?” he asked. 

The male hardly regarded him and responded with “they said you'd come”. 

“Who said?”. 

An eerily familiar voice spoke out from the darkness, “who do you think Kung Lao?”. 

Bright red eyes. 

That's the first thing he saw. 

Three pairs of these eyes lit up in the darkness, and the only time Liu Kang was able to focus on anything other than that, is when they all came fully into view. They were you, but a twisted version. The versions of you that were corrupted and no longer cared for Earthrealm, but about what they could gain and destroy. Your revenants. That feeling of dread got stronger and he put his body in front of yours like a shield. 

Revenant him spoke next, “welcome to your future. Courtesy of Raiden”. 

“Our future may be tragic, but it's not Lord Raiden's fault. You've all been warped by Shinnock's evil”. 

“Raiden’s continued ignorance gets others killed” revenant you said, “how many times can he excuse deaths by saying they're mistakes? While he consulted with the Elder Gods, Sindel wiped us out”. 

“Shao Kahn snapped my neck in the arena” revenant Kung Lao said. “Raiden saw it coming, and did nothing!”. 

“I would have defeated Shao Kahn, but Raiden wanted the glory. His lightning cut me down”

“No!” Liu Kang exclaimed, “I don't believe that!”. 

“One day Raiden will betray you. Then you'll believe”. 

What happened next is something Liu Kang has tried on numerous occasions to forget. It's why he tries to stay busy. As long as he's busy and his mind is preoccupied, his mind will hopefully not replay the events that happened. 

“It happened so fast” is clichè to say. He knew this, but it genuinely went by so fast. One moment he was fighting against himself, and the next everything went wrong. 

That sense of dread and fear got worse and worse and it wasn't for Kung Lao. He worried about him the normal amount you'd worry about your friend in kombat. All these feelings were about you. He had been so distracted and constantly looking over his shoulders at you, that he hadn't realized how desperate the revenants had gotten for a win. They were losing and they had to do something about that. 

Liu Kang didn't see “Kung Lao” take off his hat and throw it at him. All he remembers is seeing you run at him, colliding with the floor after you kicked him away, and the hat decapitating you. 

It was one of those moments where everything seemed to stop. In reality, he only stared at you for a few seconds. In his mind it felt as though he stared at your limp frame for hours before the blood pooling out of your neck was too much for him and he had to look away. 

He had failed… again. 

~

It seemed as though the Elder Gods enjoyed laughing at his torment because they gave him what could be his final chance. 

“Are you upset with me?” Liu Kang asked. Not too long ago he was forced to reveal the truth about the past timelines and the danger you were all in and since then you kept quiet and to yourself. He wouldn't blame you for being upset, but he really hoped you weren't. Confused or shocked, yeah. Just not upset. 

“I'm just thinking about our plan against Quan Chi and Shang Tsung” you answered quietly. He hated you weren't looking at him and for the first time ever he wished he had the power to read minds instead of fire. Maybe that was a blessing though. Your thoughts could possibly destroy him. 

“But that is not all” he challenged. “Tell me”. 

“Is that an order from my creator?”

He frowned and although he wanted to touch you, he kept his distance. “It is a request from your lover and friend”. You turned to face him and thankfully, you didn't seem upset. He expected something worse, like you yelling and looking at him and horror but instead you just looked lost. That was the best way he could describe it. 

“I'm sorry, that's not fair to you”. 

“You don't have to apologize to me. Just please, tell me what you are thinking”. You sighed and after what seemed like some debating, you stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand and the beating in his chest slowed. 

“Were we lovers in the past timeline?”, he nodded and he had a feeling he knew where this was going. “We are replacements for what you lost and that means-”

“No” he said louder than he planned to. 

“The memories you have with me aren't actually with me. I'm not the actual person you're in love with. You want me because you want her”

“You're wrong” his voice came out stern and his eyebrows lowered, “the reason I am yours is because I adore everything about you. I brought you back because I valued who you are as a person, but I was not drawn to you because of who you were”. He brought your hand to his cheek, the feeling being familiar in a painful yet comforting way. “I see you for you, and our memories are ours to make”. 

You smiled at him and instead of feeling relief, a familiar feeling of dread creeped up on him. 

No… no this wouldn't happen again. It couldn't. 

His calm facade slipped and the pain of the memory showed on his face. He tried to cover it up, but he was too slow. “Memories?”, you asked. He nodded. “What happened to us in the past timeline?”. 

He shook his head, wanting the memories to go away. “A story for another time” he replied grimly and stepped away from you. As bad as it sounded, Liu Kang didn't want to love you. He wanted to bring everyone back, including you, but he wanted nothing to do with you romantically. A mentor type of relationship would hopefully make the possibility of losing you hurt less, but fate brought you back together again. When fate brought you together, it always seems to cut you down. Two steps forward and three steps back. 

“I don't know if this will help, but if something terrible happened to me… I don't blame you. None of us blame you for any of our untimely deaths”

“I don't blame you for my death”

That was the last thing you said to him. 

Your words were so similar yet different, and that uneasy feeling got stronger. 

“Perhaps it would be best if you stayed behind” he tried to say as calmly as he could. Maybe this was the wrong decision, but he didn't wanna scare you and telling you about your untimely deaths in both timelines seemed like the wrong idea. 

“What?” You asked confused, “we need all hands on deck. I'll be fine”. 

“You can help in your own way”

“How?”. He hadn't thought of a task or an excuse to use and as he tried to rack his brain for an answer, you spoke again “for your sake I can stay right on your tail. You'll always know I'm right there but Liu…” your hand found his again, “over worrying only leads to bad things. Remember that”. 

What he felt next was weird. He considered your words and as he did so, that feeling of dread started to slip away. He didn't understand why and he didn't realize what the best course of action was until it was too late. 

You accompanied him and many others to stop Shang Tsung and Quan Chi and that went as well as anyone with his luck could expect. He had found out Shang Tsung from the original timeline was still alive and actively trying to destroy his era of peace, and then to make matters worse, an evil Raiden and Sindel made their appearance. Raiden was simple but being there and watching Sindel challenge them all gave him memories he didn't even have. 

He wondered if this is what happened to the past version of you. He wondered how different it was. He knew Sindel killed you and other kombatants. Is this how it happened? His attention went to you and that feeling of dread got stronger and stronger. 

This was it. This is when it'd happen. 

He stayed close to you the entire time and since he was so distracted, Sindel took the opportunity to use her hair to grab both your ankles and knock you both down. 

Liu Kang saw you try to get up to assist Sindel with her evil counterpart, and he gripped your ankle and pulled you towards him. 

“What are you doing?!” he saw how angry you were and he hated it, but he'd hate you dying even more. He kept a grip on you, so concerned with keeping you down, that he stopped paying attention to Sindel. He was only alerted to what had happened when he heard Kitana and Mileena scream. 

Sindel had been fatally wounded. 

Guilt pushed down on his shoulders and he let you go. Why couldn't he do both? Protect you and save Sindel? Then he felt even more guilty because he let out a sigh of relief when he realized that he broke the cycle. He won! 

He won. 

He won?

Why did that feeling of dread get stronger?

~

The feeling of dread and death got so strong, his shoulders actually felt weight on them. It felt like multiple people were pushing his shoulders down, while he tried his best to stand up. 

One last battle was left and he knew you absolutely could not go. This timeline must've been different. It made sense. The first one Sindel killed you, the second one revenant Kung Lao killed you. It must be the battle that kills you in this timeline. 

He couldn't let that happen. 

“You've gone mad if you think I'll stay here!” You weren't exactly taking his command the best, but he knew this was for the better. This battle had to be what would kill you. You had to stay far away and locked away. 

“I realize now what I must do to save you. You have to stay here until the battle is over. You'll be safe”. He tried to stay calm, hoping it'd ease your mood but it seemed to do the opposite. You weren't known to be angry, so seeing you look so bitter and hateful made his heart ache but he knew he was making the right decision. 

“You're insane. I have to help” you tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him harder than he meant to. 

“No! Do as I say” he meant for it to come out commanding, but there was an edge of pleading. “Have faith in me”. 

“Faith?” You gawked, “faith? In you? What about you having faith in me?!” You yanked your wrist away from him and rubbed it. “I could've helped Sindel and saved her life, but you kept me down!”

“Sindel would have killed you! Forgive me if I can't allow that”

“So my life is more special than everyone else's? You let everyone fight, get hurt and die but somehow I'm more special? Do you not see how twisted that is?”. He didn't wanna think about it that way. He felt awful after Sindel's death, but he would've been paralyzed if it was you instead. It made him feel guilty, as if he personally killed Sindel himself. It wasn't like that though! You wouldn't have stood a chance! Why couldn't you see that?

“You never let me do anything. I love you, but you suffocate me! I can't be more than two steps away from you without there being a problem”. He was protecting you like he knew he had to. 

“I worry-”

“You worry too much! What good comes from being paranoid? I've said it before. Only bad things happen when you over worry”. You tried to walk away again and he grabbed your wrist again. 

“I can't let you fight with us!”

“Why can't I be your champion?!” You shouted. “Why Raiden instead of me?!”

“He won-”

“He won a mini tournament you didn't even let me participate in, even after I asked you to!”. You were right. He remembers you begging for days, but he always said no. He made the excuse that you were better by his side and for immediate support but in reality, you in Mortal Kombat was a risk he didn't want to take. 

You did something he didn't expect next. You pulled out the amulet Raiden was supposed to have, out of your pocket. “This should be mine”. 

“How do you have that?”

“Raiden is easy to steal from. I don't know how he's survived this long” you said dismissively. He didn't like it. That amulet gave you more confidence and he couldn't afford that. You'd understand why he was so protective once the fight was over. 

“It doesn't belong to you for a reason. You're not Earthrealm's champion for a reason. You can't fight in this war for a reason”

“You want to lock me up like I'm your enemy! Like I'm a prisoner! I'm not Bi-Han!”

“You are not a prisoner. You're protected”

You let out a frustrated sigh and took a moment to collect your thoughts. “I'll return this, but when are you gonna realize the only way we're gonna work is if you let me out this cage you built?”. The sudden softness of your words took him by surprise and his grip loosened enough so you could slip your wrist out. 

You walked away and the further you got, the more that pressure eased up on his shoulders. It didn't make sense. Why was that feeling changing now when you were leaving him? You weren't supposed to leave! You were supposed to stay here, safe and sound and wait for him to come back to you!

His mind was moving fast and without truly thinking, he shot fire in front of you. “Stop!”

He regretted it immediately. You had no warning and as the fireball passed you, it burnt one of your hands badly. You screamed and held your hand with your other, trying to soothe a wound he knew wouldn't stop aching that fast. 

His heart sunk and he froze. To say he felt awful would be an understatement. He wasn't quite sure how to place it, but “bad” or “awful” weren't the right words. He never meant to actually harm you. It was the last thing he wanted to do. 

Feelings of dread reached an all time high when you turned around, a mix of hurt and rage on your face. “You'd hurt me to make me stay?! Enough of your madness! If I have to fight you, then so be it!”. 

He felt the same feeling he had when he watched you die. Everything was so fast, yet slow at the same time. 

You pulled out the amulet and lightning flew. Liu Kang shot fire at it and that's when he realized his mistake. 

A reaction happened and since the lighting was attached to the amulet, all that power surged back at you, throwing you back and severely burning you. 

“By the gods! No!” he shouted and ran towards your body, which seized before going limp. 

No. This was not meant to happen. 

This isn't what he wanted. 

He held your now bloody and burnt form, hoping that someone you'd make a recovery. He wanted to scream and burn everything down to the ground. How did he manage to fail again?!

“Forgive me…” he muttered. 

You said nothing in return. 

As he sat there in complete silence, the smell of burnt flesh filling his nose and tears falling down his face, he thought back to your words from before. 

“Over worrying only leads to bad things. Remember that”. 

“You worry too much! What good comes from being paranoid? I've said it before. Only bad things happen when you over worry”.

That's when it hit him. 

Your death to Sindel may have not been his fault, but him carrying the guilt of your death plus others clouded his judgment. He refused to listen to reason. He attacked Raiden and he was killed because of it. 

He was so focused and worried about you during your battle against the revenants, that he became sloppy. If he was focused, he would've noticed Kung Lao throwing his hat at him. He would've reacted in time. You wouldn't have had to kick him away and you wouldn't have died. 

If he let you go, you could've helped and saved Sindel. 

If he let you join the final battle instead of being paranoid, he wouldn't have accidentally harmed you and you wouldn't have attacked him. He wouldn't have had to fight back and you wouldn't have died. 

If he wasn't so paranoid to begin with, you wouldn't have been as frustrated and maybe you would've actually stayed behind. 

How did he not see it before? He gave up his power as a Titan, fearing he'd go insane like Kronika, but in his own way he had done the same thing. His need to protect became over worrying and that became paranoia and he allowed it to destroy himself and worst of all, he allowed it to destroy you and your relationship. 

The crushing feeling getting lighter when you talked about him letting you go, or you walking away, was because that's what he was supposed to do. There was nothing wrong with protecting, but his paranoia led to your downfall more than once. Maybe there were even more timelines that ended in your death or both of your deaths. 

The more he understood, the more his chest burned and the louder his sobs got. How could he have been so blind? How many times had he failed? Why did the Elder Gods punish him instead of the actual evil people in the world? He wasn't perfect by any means, but where was this sort of punishment for people like Shao? Or Shang Tsung? Or Quan Chi? Or anyone else who had wickedness in their heart and fed off chaos and strife? Why did he have to suffer such a cruel fate over and over again?

Maybe if he could somehow get his powers back or see if Geras could reverse time or erase this timeline and start again, he could do better. 

He could erase all he did wrong. He could keep his era of peace. He could save everyone. He could save you. 

All he needed was one more chance. 

Although I think this is buns, the reader’s death mimicking Liu Kang’s death in MK9 eats down

[yanderes-galore]

I'd like to see a yandere concept of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Either romantic or platonic is fine.

I'll do a general pairing and spill my thoughts, then! Sorry for the long wait, I have a lot to get through, lol ^^; I am having fun though, so that's all that matters. Can't wait for HOTD Season 2! I'm so worried her character isn't right but I wanted to lean in on her more unhinged side.

Here's an older concept I did for her.

Potential Fire & Blood/HOTD Spoilers Below

Yandere! Rhaenyra Targaryen Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Controlling behavior, Condescending behavior, Possessive behavior, Murder, Blood, Violence, Mature themes, Possible sexism, Delusional behavior, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Mind break, Dark content, Threats, Trust issues, Forced companionship/relationship.

It's been a while since I've seen HOTD, so pardon me if anything is too off personality-wise.

Rhaenyra is described as strong-willed and independent.

She's always hated being a traditional lady and prefers to fly on her dragon, Syrax.

She wants to choose her own destiny and take her birthright on top of the iron throne.

However, something noted in the book is that her personality is similar to Maegor.

Which implies Rhaenyra is rather ruthless, cruel, and entitled.

Rhaenyra would bond well with someone she knew in childhood, like a childhood friend.

But I can also see her attached to a personal servant or loyal supporter of The Blacks.

That or there's some drama that could happen if you support The Greens when the war comes around.

I feel if you knew her in childhood you can clearly notice her change in behavior.

From child to adult, the whole world has been against her.

Combined with the death of her child(ren), Rhaenyra grows into a cruel queen for The Blacks.

While she holds care for you, she's deceptive and every word carries a threatening tone.

It's said in Fire and Blood that Rhaenyra has trust issues, feeling the whole world is plotting against her due to The Greens.

That along with the betrayal of the Velaryons later on.

So you can imagine she wants to cling to her obsession... but worries they'll work against her.

Due to this distrust, you're forced on your toes.

After all, it takes one order for her to decide your fate.

She could have all you hold dear burned by Syrax.

She could imprison you for treason.

Or even worse, she can have you killed to keep you to herself.

You should know that Black Queen Rhaenyra is unhinged due to what she's gone through.

She'd do anything to keep her obsession and their loyalty.

Every word she says towards you feels like a subtle threat, a warning to keep in line.

Rhaenyra is a dangerous yandere, especially as she begins to lose her mind.

Regardless of if you're a loyal follower or not, ahe worries her obsession will go against her.

Considering how obsessive she is... she may snap completely without you.

If you're loyal to her, she often tries to test it.

She gives you tasks or forces you to make promises with her.

If she loves you romantically, she may make you prove yourself by being... intimate.

One way or another she wants you to kneel before her.

She's desperate for your attention, sometimes even holding your face as she whispers how she can't continue without you.

I only imagine she gets worse when her kids are dead, all except her Aegon.

She keeps you at her hip.

If platonic, she may make you her Hand.

If romantic, you're her secret partner.

If you support The Greens, she's determined to change that.

I'm talking about kidnapping, Imprisonment, and psychological conditioning.

You're fed propaganda, you're threatened, and Rhaenyra no doubt guilts you onto her side.

She wants to make sure she has you on her side... making you reliant on her by neglecting resources so you can beg for her.

A side I imagine Rhaenyra having is a more ruthless and sadistic side.

She hates The Greens, in this case she feels they stole you from her.

She has to find a way to get her dearest obsession back... even if it means breaking you.

She's mentioned to be cruel, so her doing such a thing seems plausible.

She's already burning countless people who oppose her.

You might as well submit.

If you just listen to her, support her, she'll give you everything.

If you don't, she'll find other methods.

If Rhaenyra can't break you, I can definitely see her having you killed.

If she can't have you, no one can.

She's already spilled a ton of blood, by this point she may be delusional enough to think this is how she keeps you.

Otherwise, you'll be forced by her side until she dies.

It's hard to escape from The Black Queen, Daemon and her other supporters no doubt wish to keep her happy.

She loves it when you take care of her children, she loves it when you show you're loyal.

If she has to trust anyone, she wants it to be you.

You're her beloved obsession, a dear friend/partner.

She refuses to give you up...

No matter what it takes.

"Pledge yourself to me... show me I can trust you... show me you'd give your life to keep me happy...."

[mstigeress37-blog]

BOXER! RAFE CAMERON X READER

ＳＵＭ．Rafe is a boxer, but his pretty girlfriend hasn’t showed up to his match yet, so where is she?

Notes. Fem! Reader/ She/Her pronouns used, violent description, fanon rafe lol.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Rafe was stressed.

It was his first time boxing in this particular ring in this particular place. He found the place with a bit of difficulty, driving wise, and since his girlfriend wasn’t here, he could only assume she had lost her way.

He bursts through the changing room door, eyes scanning for both his manager and his girlfriend, before setting them on Topper, his best friend.

“Yo, have you seen Y/N? She’s usually here by now.” He asks, scratching his recently buzzed hair after one of his fans tried to grab it post-fight.

Topper shakes his head, “Nah, man. I can go stand outside and keep a lookout for you, though?” He suggests. Rafe nods once, deep in thought and his eyebrows furrowed, before walking away, kissing his teeth and shaking his head in disappointment.

If she isn’t going to be here within the next hour, he’s gonna knock his opponent to the floor and keep hitting him until she shows up.

—————

The last time you didn’t/couldn’t make it to Rafe’s match was when you were grounded in High School after getting caught doing weed that Rafe gave you. You ended up having to sneak out with Sarah to bail him out. Sarah needed you since she knew Rafe was pissed and, as cheesy as it sounds, you the only person who was able to calm him down. Even thinking about the next that read, ‘Stuck in traffic! So sorry, baby!’ made him huff with anger.

But now, you’re adults. No ‘asking for permission but my dad said no’, no ‘You’re grounded so you can’t go.’ Nothing. Nada. So why was he behind the curtain doing the breathing technique you taught him all alone?

Rafe was pissed. Not at you, of course. But at the world. What cruel universe would keep you stuck in traffic? Or put the boxing ring so far away from you?

Before he could think anymore, he heard his name being introduced through the speakers, saw the curtains fly open, and started running to the ring, pissed as ever.

The two bump fists, and just before the ring goes off, Rafe can hear the man go, ‘missing your girlfriend, Rafe? D’y’need your mommyyyy?’ through his mouth guard, chuckling before hitting his own fists together.

The bell goes off, and it felt like permission to beat the ever living shit out of the pathetic excuse of a man in front of him.

Rafe pounces, his fists heavier than two seconds ago, and lands each punch to the other’s face and gut.

Some time passes, and his coach calls him over to his corner. Rafe has blood trickling down his nose and forehead. He feels like shit for a second before he glances over to his opponent and smirks, chuckling to himself.

He sits down, and through the music and loud cheering/booing, he hears you, and suddenly, his huffs are light-hearted and relieved exhales.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you pushing through, probably politely asking them to move, before you occasionally shout, ‘Rafe!’ And you don’t have to shout much or loudly, since Rafe’s head was turned the first time you yelled.

He sees your smile go wide as the two of you make eye contact before you glance to the side, looking at what Rafe did to his opponent.

The two guards let you past the gate that separates the ring and the audience since they know your face (since Rafe was shoving a picture of you in their faces asking if they had seen you despite their multiple ‘No!’s), and suddenly you’re running to Rafe’s corner, jumping up to hold onto the ropes.

“Rafe, baby! I’m so sorry, I got lost, then suddenly I was in traffic, then I was in the countryside?? I-I don’t know, but it’s okay, because-“

“-Because you’re here.” He finishes quietly. He doesn’t even need to raise his voice for you to hear him over all the clamouring of the audience and his team who are pouring water all over him.

“I don’t care if I landed in a cell again, because I knew you would have picked me up. I don’t care if they kicked me out of here, since I know you would get here eventually and give me a lecture as you took us home. I don’t care if you weren’t here before, because you’re here now.”

You feel emotional and give him a quick peck on the kiss, not knowing how much time he has left of his break. However, unsatisfied with such a small show of affection, he stands up from the stool, grabs your face, and kisses you lovingly.

“Alright, lover boy, get in there!!” His coach yells from his side. He pulls away gently, admires your face before giving you a quick peck on the nose, running back to the centre with a new found confidence and a swell of love in his heart.

You smile softly at the view of his back before his coach jumps down, helping you jump down too to sit at the chairs neatly lined up.

[scoobydoodean]

i’d like you to know you’ve made me much more of a bitter deangirl when it comes to the trap. like i still love the idea of it, of them reconnecting in purgatory of all places, and i still like the idea of lots of what dean says re: should’ve asked cas to stay and i forgive you and talking *about* his anger, but… dean had a right to be angry, including at cas. and yeah it’s good that dean apologized, for the sake of healthy communication cause that’s what you do when you’ve said hurtful things in an argument regardless of who’s “right”, but cas also should’ve apologized again. in fact, i can’t remember so i could be completely misremembering, but does cas ever actually apologize to dean beyond expressing the sentiment of feeling bad that mary died?

and i’m also thinking about the conversation they have before being separated. i like the angst of cas’s line re: i left but you didn’t stop me, but again, dean was not the only one in that argument. to leave was very much cas’s choice, and it feels kinda unfair to put that on dean, regardless of whether dean saying smth would’ve actually gotten cas to stay (which, to dean, probably would’ve seemed unlikely given cas’s past habits). and also, cas saying dean couldn’t move on, that’s actually fucking heartbreaking and almost… cruel. iirc it’d been at most a couple weeks since his mom (his mom!) had been killed!! plus dean never got to say goodbye, again!! of course he couldn’t just move on!

idk idk… anyway i believe i’ve sent an ask about your opinions on the trap before lol, and sorry about this long ass message, but i recently saw a gifset about that conversation (before being attacked) and all the notes were like ‘yes cas you tell him!’ ‘dean needed to hear that!’ ‘finally got dean’s head out of his ass!’ and it kinda made me annoyed for dean which. brainrot. but whatever. bitter deangirls unite, dean deserves the support 😭😭

context

LMAO sorry for my tumblr arc culminating in me turning full bitter deangirl ig and taking some of you down with me (I'm not sorry actually I'm having a ball in this bitch).

Cas's attempts at apologies are cataloged here. So he does try to apologize. But how many times has Cas been "sorry" only to do the thing he apologized for again? I mean the fact that he keeps "apologizing" for lack of communication and unilateral decisions over things that impact other people besides him and secret deals that blow up in all of their faces over and over and over and over shows that he is... not actually that sorry? Because if you're actually sorry, you actually change your behavior. Except Cas thinks "getting a win" (while actively digging a deeper hole in his relationship with Dean) is the way to "apologize" and make everything better instead of just... changing his behavior. And whatever his latest big plan to fix everything is never works and instead actively makes his relationships and his own self esteem worse. From the outside perspective, what Cas is doing (apologizing then doing the thing he just apologized for again) is just kind of... the ultimate way of telling a person you claim to love that their feelings actually have very little value to you. I mean Cas would be horrified by the idea that he doesn't actually value Dean's feelings, but what conclusion is Dean supposed to come to? Is it any wonder that Dean is perpetually confused about what exactly Cas thinks of their relationship? Is it any wonder that he reached a point where he couldn't stand to hear one more of Cas's meaningless apologies? To maintain any semblance of a relationship with Cas, Dean has to focus on what he feels about Cas's intentions (intentions Dean has always had faith in being good) but that faith and care increasingly forces him to ignore aspects of their relationship that are deeply hurtful because Cas refuses to do his part in addressing their issues in any meaningful way. It's just a vicious cycle of Dean trying to communicate that their lack of communication is upsetting and Cas pretending to listen and apologizing but clearly not actually listening or understanding the gravity of the situation and how it is slowly building a rift between them over years (with perhaps the most striking and hurtful example being The Future) until the secret over soulless Jack becomes "the straw that broke the camel's back" and Dean absolutely explodes at the end of season 14... and then... still... Cas's secrets remain—to the bitter fucking end.

Also yeah tbh Cas's "I left but you didn't stop me" makes my eyes roll so hard. Painfully stupid dialogue with unpleasant (though likely unintentional) implications (as linked in thread above).

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (part 10)

Summary: As tensions arise in King’s Landing, you make moves to assure the safety of your children. Final breaths are taken, pacts are made and broken, steel is drawn and the dragons dance.

Warning: mentions of stillbirths/pregnancy issues, allusions to self harm, some unreliable narrator if you squint. In our f&b bag fr!

A/N: you guys 🥺 we are finally on the last part. First, I want to say I am sooooo sorry about how long it took to get this one out. By the time I’m posting this I’m sort of like, do people even still care lmao 💀. Life has been hectic and tbh I’ve been putting some focus onto other things. Shameless plug to my other, more happy Aemond x oc series, on ao3. As well as I’ve gotten so much amazing feedback and interactions about this fic that I was slightly worried about how people would take the end. Speaking of feedback, and moving on to the more sappy stuff. My writing side blog has grown exuberantly since posting part 1 of fmo last year. It genuinely makes me emotional thinking about the little community that’s come from it. I hope to continue to make more stuff that I’m not only happy with, but further pushes said community ❤️❤️ if y’all have any hotd request let me know. Please reblog, like, and comment. As well as come chat in my inbox if you see something you like.

Slight housekeeping, though if you made it this far you probably already know. This fic does change the dance for self indulgent reasons (lol) and for the narrative of it all. This started as a cheating story and has sort of spun into something entirely else.

Fmo masterlist

Blog masterlist

Ninth moon of 129 AC

Rhaenyra’s voice could be heard from down the hall.

You wanted to reassure yourself that you had heard those screams before from Helaena, or even from yourself giving birth. But there was something so terribly guttural about the ones Rhaenyra was making.

As if outcome of the birth hung in the air. Lingering with the ghost of the past death that happened in the Red Keep. You try not to focus on the sheer look of panic on Jace’s face once you leave him at the door.

By the time you got to her chambers, Rhaenyra is already surrounded by midwives as she is hunched over, palms spread out against the wall. Midwives, and Alicent, whose face was terribly pale. Almost as drained of color as Rhaenyra. Her normally straight blonde hair wavy and stuck to her forehead with the sheen of her own sweat.

Alicent spots you, and gets away from her position from around her. She pulls you over to the side, but before she can even speak you interrupt her. The midwives begin to move Rhaenyra from her standing position to on the bed.

“Has this happened before,” you watch as Rhaenyra pleas lessen and lessen, her state becoming more sedated than what is probably normal.

Alicent shakes her head. Her auburn curls had been released for the night from the tight updo they were in earlier.

“No, at least not the first three,” she swallows hard before coming closer to you. “I fear - I fear this labor may go awry. I think we need to make preparations for if…”

The words catch in the back of Alicent’s throat. She is here with Rhaenyra; she has always been with Rhaenyra. Even when they were at odds; two ghosts haunting each other’s memories. Two sides of the same coin, causalities of the cruel fate. You want to feel sorry her; knowing that she is watching a close… companion go through this, but your mind has been elsewhere since earlier that day.

“Your son has made preparations,” you cross your arms. “All of them actually.”

Alicent brows furrow in confusion, and it dawns on you that Aemond and Aegon never clued their mother in on their little plan.

“You do not know, do you?”

“No, I do not know what your husband has been getting into. I rarely do these days.”

You and her both.

Rhaenyra lets out another groan.

“Where is Daemon,” you ask as Rhaenyra begins to mumble things incoherently to the midwives.

“He took one look at her, and left the room,” Alicent frowns. “She called for him but he went to get Jacaerys instead.”

And Jace came for you on the behest of Alicent. Tis the way of men you suppose. Often, they are absolute nuisance in situations like this, but you could not help but think that mayhaps if Daemon had stayed to seen her in this state, he would not put her through such things again. But that is giving him far more credit than you know he deserves.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra manages to mumble out the name louder. Her eyes fluttering open and shut.

Alicent instantly rushes over, dropping the conservation she has started with you.

As you watch Alicent coax Rhaenyra through this, her words ring out. Though she did not elaborate on what those plans should be, she was right. Aemond had taken the reigns from your hands plenty times before. Safety will not be completely ensured until any threat is taken out. You have never been to battle nor war, and even you know that. A slightly morbid thought creeps into your head.

If Rhaenyra dies, Aegon could descend the throne.

It was laughable for Rhaenyra, or anyone who supports her claim, to believe known bastards would follow her in the line of succession. Or that Daemon would not bypass Rhaenyra’s first three boy in order to ensure power for her last two. It would mean an all-out war between Aegon and Daemon… but maybe it did not have to go that far. Not if plans were made to undercut whatever moves you know Daemon could put into place.

They are all back in King’s Landing, no longer under the false tranquility they tried to spin at Dragonstone. Amongst their patrons who already have much to say about Rhaenyra’s still short reign.

Aegon on the throne would ensure the safety of all of the kids. And not only the kids, but the kingdom as a whole. A war of succession, especially including dragons, would only bring destruction. Rhaenyra’s boys would have a chance to swear obeisance after Daemon is out of the way, and if not, their presence will not be needed. Bastard blood being spilt is nothing compared to the life your children.

They could go back to Dragonstone and live their lives out there with young Egg and Viserys. With the possibility of Daemon for a father, they would be better off for it.

Your thoughts are broken by the midwives telling Rhaenyra to try and push.

There was already a significant amounts of blood trailing where Rhaenyra had been. Her pushes do little to soothe the position she is in. In frustration and pain, eventually Rhaenyra, much to the chagrin of the midwives and Alicent, shoos them all away. Reaching down to pull the babe out herself.

Letting out an already grief-stricken scream as she does it.

The air is sucked from the room as a gush of blood rushes out of Rhaenyra, followed by a tiny body.

A tiny… silent body. Wrapped in scales and slightly deformed.

No one speaks as they watch Rhaenyra pick up the baby from between her legs and rocks it as if trying to lure it into crying, into breathing. But nothing comes. Just silence, and the aches of a daughter stuck in the self-fulfilling prophecy of a mother that is no longer around.

It is not proper nor lady-like, and you can hear your own mother’s voice in the back of your telling you how rude it is in a time like this, but you just turn and leave. Without a word or peep. Suddenly feeling sick you go back down the hall, back to your chambers. Ignoring Jace who calls your name out in confusion by the sudden silence coming from his mother’s room.

By the time you make it back to the room, Aemond had gotten himself ready for bed. Completely casual as if the events earlier meant nothing to him.

“What’s happened,” he notices your ashen face.

You take one look at your husband, you think of your children away in a place foreign to them, and the stillborn baby Rhaenyra clutched in her arms.

The bile comes up quick. So quick you barely make I to the basin on the other side of the room. The dry heaving reminds you that you barely ate anything today, too worried about the task at hand.

You flinch when you feel a cold hand on your back. Shrugging Aemond’s hand off, you turn head with a glare.

“You made your move,” you mutter. “I’ll give you that. But now we are going to this my way. And Aemond, so help me, a single hair on those kid’s heads is harmed and I am not with them, I burn it all to the ground, you with it.”

You don’t know how and when, but you would do it for them if it came to that. You’d do anything for their safety. It may be time for others to realize that.

— — —

Princess Visenya Targaryen is set on the pyre a day and a half later. A small swaddled body lit on fire once Rhaenyra croaked out the words. Syrax blowing a mighty flame to burn Rhaenyra’s only little girl.

She was advised to stay in bed. Though her outward physical ailments had started to heal, it was clear Queen Rhaenyra was sick. Pale skin still prickling with sweat despite the cool air outside, dark bags starting to form under her eyes as she leans gently against the cane she was given.

You stand next to Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. The only warm you feel from the fire in front on you.

It was slightly shocking when Helaena came up to you before the funeral with guilt written over her soft features.

“I just had… a funny feeling about the kids being here. I’m sorry.”

She knew.

You were not happy about once again feeling like you’re on the outside looking in with people you are supposed to call family. At least Helaena had the decency to feel ashamed by the omission. The decency to apologize. Guilt and Aemond is laughable being in the same sentence, and Aegon had been avoiding you. A thing that has not happened in months. Helaena was always right about these things; the scary part is that you all never really knew till the outcome already happened.

You run your hand over your black mourning dress. Peering out from under your veil, you make eye contact with Daemon across the fire.

Normally mirth filled eyes, and folly written all over his face had been replaced by an emptiness that scared you. Often, you had felt the unearned confidence and ambition around you was just noblemen living up to an expectation put on by others around them. But a Daemon, already known for his rogue behavior, feeling emboldened by the death of his brother, daughter, and the newly weakened state of his wife, made you nervous.

Only compounded when you think about the conversation shared at Dragonstone. Your loyalty was not expected, but even demanded. You can’t help but wonder if the kids not being around has only put a fiercer target on your back, or even on theirs.

You look over at Aegon - messy hair, bored expression, purple circles under his eyes. But he is no worse for wear compared to Rhaenyra.

If it one thing you have learned since being around this family, it is appearances often make up for everything. Slap a smile and nice outfit on, and people tend to believe what they see versus what is underneath the surface.

The funeral ends, and you make a sharp beeline towards Otto.

“I need to run something past you.”

You rake your knuckles against Aegon’s door, and get reply in return. You do it again, this time with more vigor, slightly embarrassed at Ser Arryk just watching you pound away.

“He is in there,” you question, turning to him.

“The last time I checked, he was my lady.”

The last time he checked?

You supposed not ever sworn protector can be as diligent as Quinton, and not every subject can be well behaved.

“Aegon,” you knock once more.

Blowing out frustrated air through your mouth, you turn to go but the door eventually swings open.

His hair is crumpled on one side, shirt unbuttoned, and reeking of wine. It had not hit you that he may be with someone.

“If you are… predisposed, I apologize. I can come back”

A dopey grin breaks out of face, before he hitched the door open wider. “No one is with me. Oh, dovelet were you worried about that?”

You look over to see Arryk raise a brow at you. You push at Aegon, further annoyed. “Go.” Forcing him back into his chambers.

“Everyone is so touchy today.”

You were there, before the funeral, when Alicent fussed at him about going to it. About trying to look engaged, which he clearly did not. You think about the conversation you had with Otto in his office.

“He is not going to like it. He has long come to terms with not wanting to be king.”

“But his wants are of no concern to you now, are they?”

When put that way, you can’t help but feel a bit bad. But it is true. What Aegon wants right now means little to you. He will eventually learn to like it, and if not like it, he will learn to tolerate it. The way others have to tolerate their fate in life. We are all stuck in the same miserable cycle; the only difference is some of us will not be able to call ourselves King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“We need to talk about some things.”

“Black is one your colors,” he changes the subject. “You should wear it more often.”

“Aegon, I’m serious,” you pinch your nose.

“Is this about the kids? I thought you would be happy they are out of harm’s way.”

“They are not out of harm’s way,” your voice raises, and this is not going the way it was supposed to.

You must push him with a gently hand. A woman’s touch.

There was a something slimy about how Otto ended the conversation. Sending you to Aegon to enact a woman’s touch… whatever that meant.

“But they could be,” you lower your voice. “If - If there was someone else at the helm. None of us would have to worry about their safety. About our safety.”

Aegon give you a funny look before flopping down on his bed.

He is drunk so he may not remember any of this by next morning. You sit next to him on the bed.

“There is no running from this. Despite what you may say, you know you would not be able to live with yourself if you left your family, your kids. Aegon, you are too smart not to know what this is all coming to.”

Though not something you voiced yourself, running was an option that crossed your mind. Finding a way out to Oldtown, grabbing your kids, and running. The logistics seemed all to wash away when the word dragon comes along. Traveling with two young kids would be difficult enough, managing to travel discretely with a giant dragon would not work. You don’t know how you would tell Daella to leave Vermithor.

And then a chill would run up your spine. Where could you go where he would not find you on dragon back?

The two of you sit in silence before Aegon sighs softly.

“Share a drink with me,” Aegon whispers. “Before we all die.”

It makes you laugh. Because that is all you can do at the folly that is your life. You nod softly.

The wine is a Dornish Red. Sweet, warm, and sultry tasting drink. It reminds you of the look Aegon is giving you.

Alicent peaks her head into the door.

“Rhaenyra,” she sees baby Aegon and Viserys sitting on their mother’s bed. Both babbling away over each other. Rhaenyra weakly waves her in. Both Egg and Viserys give Alicent tiny little bows. They do it to everyone, even those who technically do not have the same amount of power toddlers do. Bowing at guards, nursemaids, and court members alike.

The boys are eventually escorted out by one of the maids, but not until they both tell Alicent about the flock of lizards they found in the garden. It’s sweet, Alicent thinks. Reminds her of when her kids were that age. Not yet tainted or disrupted by the life around them. Alicent supposes she also has herself to blame for that when it comes to own children.

Both boys not understanding the position their mother is in. She knows that Rhaenyra is grateful at least two of her kids are not aware of her vulnerable state.

“How are you feeling,” Alicent sits at the edge of the bed next to her, taking in scattering of notes around Rhaenyra. Members of Rhaenyra’s small council have written notes for Rhaenyra to read while she is abed. From things as simple as the mouse problem in the Red Keep to things more serious. Like the Shepherd’s continued teachings; this week sermon’s going as far to say the death of the Visenya was an act of the Gods. That this is Rhaenyra’s punishment. Punishment for the dragon, the incest, the Targaryen of it all.

Alicent makes sure to only visit Rhaenyra when she knows she will not run into Daemon. He flaunted around the castle as if he has never left. Still the same air of arrogance and fire, only now swathed under a layer of coolness. The passing of Viserys, clearly leading him in a quieter path.

So many awful things lead back to that man. Alicent is sure of it.

All Rhaenyra can do is give a small smile and the shake of the head.

“A bit better now that you’re here.”

Alicent just ducks her head shyly.

Rhaenyra was always good at that, making Alicent feel like she was a girl again. Ten and four and completely out of her depth when it came to her feelings. An issue she worries she still has not gained control over.

“I am thinking of naming Daemon protector of the realm,” she then croaks out. “I do not know how much I can get done while in this bed. Watching it all crumble beneath me.”

Naivety. It is the only word that comes Alicent’s mind when it comes to how Rhaenyra handles Daemon. Ironically, it is the same way Otto describes her relationship with Rhaenyra. Her father never forgets a chance the remind her the nostalgia of girlhood, and security she wraps in Rhaenyra. The same way Alicent does not know if Rhaenyra has convinced herself that Daemon’s will head her council above anyone’s else is her true feelings, is the same way Alicent does not know if she holds onto the good parts of Rhaenyra because they still exist. Or because without holding onto them, she would be again flailing and alone. Once again left with the cold, empty feelings that comes with duty above else.

The only person Alicent saw ever cut Daemon down to size is now dead, rotting and finally silent. If Rhaenyra thinks the bond, she had with Daemon is anything more than him trying to hold onto the last semblances of Viserys he could find, she has been sorely mistaken.

“Mayhaps, you should speak that over with the rest of your council,” she pushes the duvet further over Rhaenyra. It is not her job to advise. She doesn’t know if she has it in her advising another clueless monarch. Another seemingly well meaning, but headstrongly clueless monarch. Rhaenyra gets her same propriety from her father.

Rhaenyra is not a bad person. The same way many people would say Viserys was not a bad person. But when all things are said and done, Viserys will be remembered as peaceful. Alicent worries history will not give the same charitable read to Rhaenyra. Who fumbles and doubles down on her bad actions in the way she learned from her father. Terribly misguided in each path they take, paying no mind to the carnage left behind.

Too much trust in Daemon. A fault both will have to live with or die by.

“Everything will be fine, once I recover,” she takes note of Alicent’s distant eyes. “It will be alright.”

You look so much like your father when you lie to me. So much like him with false hope and no tact. They riot in the streets over your reign already, and you are sure it will be alright.

Alicent just squeezes Rhaenyra’s hand. The way she used to when she used to get the urge to pick at her hands. She looks around the room. Rhaenyra, now laying in the same bed her father did before her. Alicent just hopes the morbid memories of Viserys do not haunt her in the way Aemma’s ghost still haunts Alicent to this day.

Aemma was right, and they did not even know it at the time. The birthing bed was their battlefield. And it feels like it is all catching up to them.

It has been a few minutes since your parents welcomed you into their parents, and in those few minutes your mother has done nothing but pick at your hair and fret over your outfit.

The sun was at its height in the sky, brightness peaking through their windows. This morning you woke up, and did what have for the past couple of days. Remember your children are not there for you to kiss and hug, and look over at your sleeping husband. Multiple ways of smothering him popping into your head.

“Wearing your hair back makes you look so severe, my darling,” she fiddles with bun. Your hand goes up the move it way. “And grey is not slimming on everyone.”

“Yes mother,” you try to grin and bear like you have always done. Your resolve faltered when she gushed about how lovely of a father Aemond was for wanting the kids to spend more time with their uncle, the excuse the both of you had parroted whenever someone asked here Daella and Alaric were.

“I think it may be best, if both of you go back home,” you sit both of them down. “I just worry that things may get a bit hectic, and I would feel better if you both were far from it.”

They both give you a curious look. There is only so much you can say without giving all away. Your father gets up and pulls you to the side.

“There has been… rumblings,” he mutters. “About the Queen and her state.”

He chooses his words wisely. As if he was worried others are listening.

“I want you to know that whatever path may arrive. The full backing of the house is behind it. Your uncle and I will make sure of that. If there was a change in power.”

Tears pinch and sting your eyes. It should be reassuring but it only makes you realizing that backing comes at the whim of others. This will always come back to who is ruling, and who people think should rule.

That is why you married Aemond right? To be put in the best position for your house.

“Thank you, father.”

He kisses you on the cheek, before leaving. You turn towards your mother who sits on the bench in front of the bed.

“I do hope your little excursion has renewed your spirit,” she gets up. “Your husband seemed just beside himself after you left. No wife, no children around. I can only imagine how hard that was for him.” You just stand there as she comes towards you. She stares at you for a moment, taking in your new dark dress, and hair. You cannot tell if the look is unimpressed, or filled with sadness. Your mother’s faces tend to blur together into nothingness.

“Of course, that is what you took from it,” you mutter.

“What was that, lamb?” Another hand runs over your hair.

“Nothing, mother.”

Your mother laughs a bit, in that cold, jilted way she does. The joy never reaching her eyes.

“It’s always been that way. Sweet with him, distant with me.”

You stare at her in slight shock, slight mortification when she leans back. Is that how she’s read the situation? You choosing your father over her. Not the paralyzing fear that came with having to please her. The heart arching want to make her proud of you, even at the expense of your own wants.

“You made it that way. I - you sent me away to - to this place and -“

“Oh, here we go. You got married to a Prince, you had your babies, and I am still the evil mother.”

She bows her head as is she about to cry. Initiatively, you put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not evil,” you don’t understand how the conversation how switcher so fast. How now you have to the one to comfort her. “We just don’t see certain things the same way.”

An understatement.

“Mayhaps, I was never meant to be a mother,” she looks up, eyes dry. She says it so casually.

“What?”

“I should have taken the hint after the first miscarriage. But your father just begged and begged about wanting a child.”

You just watch in horror.

She runs another hand over your hair, nagging on the bun and frowns.

“Some women just aren’t meant to be mothers. Too headstrong for it, too weak for it,” there is an air of pity when she says it.

She leans in, and her breath hits your ears. “Be careful, my lamb. The softer the heart, the harder the fall.”

You swallow hard. She’s fed a poison that is hard to be weaned off.

— — —

Leaving the room, in a slight daze. Softly shuffling the opposite way of your chambers, and up the large stairs. You had promised Rhaenyra you would come see her soon.

The only thing that breaks you out the trance is the heavy footsteps of Daemon. You stop and lower your head in acknowledgment.

“My prince, I have not been able to catch you to give my condolence.”

Daemon hums. You’ve noticed how he walks around with Dark Sister attached firmly on his hip. Sometimes sheathed, other times unsheathed as he leans against as some sort of crutch.

“I suppose I should be sending you sorrows too,” a small smile on his face. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Your children.”

Your blood runs a bit cold.

“They are just with their uncle. Taking it the beauty of Oldtown. We want them to see many parts of the realm.”

“With Vermithor?”

You just nod. “You must know how important the bond is between dragon and dragon rider. More importantly during these early stages.”

Daemon’s mirth grows as he comes closer. “I do remember our conversation. About how your loyalty would be not only expected but rewarded. I would absolutely hate to see anyone get hurt, especially as our queen is recovering.”

You smile, brightly and sound.

“Of course, it would be quite a shame if anyone was putting their own needs ahead of Queen Rhaenyra’s. Those close to her must be diligent, and kind.”

The two of you exchange more fake smiles before he steps around you, sword glistening under the flicker of flames in the hallway.

Trying to compose yourself as you make your way to the master chambers. You are slightly relieved by the changes that were made by the time Rhaenyra arrived and settled in. The model Viserys spent even his last days speaking about that collected dust had been removed. Different drapes that let the sun in, the furniture moved around a bit, and the smell. Thank Gods, the smell was different.

The smell of rotting, and noxious air replaced by something a little sweeter. You know that Alicent would come in daily and light different incense for Rhaenyra.

The guards let you in, and she is still in the same place she, day after day, the large canopy bed. The bed you see Viserys lay in as you visit him with Daella and or Alaric.

“Rhaenyra,” you pull back the certain a bit, to let light in. “Have you eaten today?”

You walk over and lay a hand on her forehead. She is burning up. Her fever spiking again. All you get is a groan and the shake of the head.

“Rhaenyra, you need to eat something.”

She just gestures toward the table. Different tonics, drinks, and glasses on top of it. You walk over to see tea as well as a familiar milky substance on it.

You remembered seeing how Viserys was when he was on milk of the poppy. Hells, you understood the strength of it, and you only took it while having Daella and Alaric.

It was the beauty and ugliness of the drug once it was taken too much. The pain was gone, but then came a new problem - the grogginess of the mind and withdrawals.

“The Queen only needs five dops of it,” said the maester, a sour look on his face once asked to leave when you visited her a few days ago.

In all her paranoia, Rhaenyra had asked only those closest to her to help administer it. Not trusting the maesters the very same way she did when it came to Viserys. Out of part guilt of what she just went through, and frankly fear, you agreed when she asked you. But now, as you feel the tides changing once again for the battle for power, your hands shake a bit applying the remedy to her tea.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five….. Six. Seven. Eight.

Before you can change your mind, you a twist cap back on the milk of the poppy.

You walk back to the bed, giving a pale Rhaenyra a strained smile. “Let’s sit you up.”

Rhaenyra winces, eyes in a faraway stare as you help her lean up in the bed. The same bed she had been beholden to for the past week. You bring goblet to her lips and watch her all but chug most of it.

A part of you wants to say a prayer to the Father. Perhaps he will forgive you for all that will happen beyond this point. Understanding how stray animals often act when they are backed into a corner. Teeth bared and fighting for their lives.

She will name him Protector of the Realm if she stays abed any longer. Despite the mistreatment, Daemon has always had a way about him when it came to Rhaenyra. I have no way to stop it. Did not back then, and do not now.

Guilt only mounts when you think about the sadness in Alicent’s eyes when she said that. But then you think about your daughter’s laugh or the wide-eyed innocence of your son, and the guilt fades. All that is left is resentment. A deep hole where you think your heart used to be.

You have to shudder thinking about anyone from this family sitting the throne but at least you know some options are more… malleable than others.

“I can come back to give you more when you need it,” you brush a stray hair behind Rhaenyra’s ear. “Maybe I can read to you too.”

She gives you a tired smile, and nod before her eyes begin to flutter. You watch as her breathing labors as she drifts into a hazy state. In and out of sleep. Here she lays, a victim of the birthing bed like her mother. Ill equipped, and far too foolish to see the damage she will leave behind like her father.

“What is all of this?”

You walk into your chambers to find a table of food in the room. Aemond hops up from the bed. You take a look at the array of breads, and sweets on the table.

“All this for me,” you question, popping one of the lemon candies on a lemon cake in your mouth. “How romantic. The last time I had the pleasure of such a spread, you were telling me you got your mistress pregnant and it sent me into excruciating labor.”

Aemond face falls, and for a moment you understand what it has been like for him the past few years of marriage. To hold power over him, even if it is small and fleeting in the moment. Dangling kindness in front of his face to rip it away for no reason other than you can.

You continue to pick at the food, as Aemond just stares.

“Are you gonna say what this all about or just stare with that silly look on your face?”

His face flashes from sad stoicism something a bit angrier. Ah, that’s your husband.

“I am trying to mend things with you, and all I ge-“

“Oh, that is your first mistake,” you hold up a finger. “Well, not the first. You know your first. But trying to mend something that was never there to begin with? And with food that I could get myself. You’re smarter than that Aemond,” you tut at him.

“So, what now? We spend the rest of our days hating each other?”

If we even get that far.

“It has worked for others,” you shrug.

“It won’t for you,” he rebuts. “The hate will eat you alive. You’ll be miserable.”

Promise?

He speaks as if he is so sure of it. As like Helaena does at times, he has seen into a murky future, and pulled this out. You utterly miserable as you let that dark voice in your head play out all your morbid desires.

“But you would like that, wouldn’t you,” you think about the look he gave you when you wanted to reach for his knife. “Why else would you put through all of this but to make me as miserable as you are?”

It hang on the tip of your tongue. You could push you luck again, and tell him that she is gone, and never to be seen again. Twist the knife that you already have point at his back. But then you would have to be sure of things yourself. Dreams have dissolved into nightmares. Blood mixing the salty water of Dragonstone.

Then you wake and Otto’s words ring in your head. He took care of it. Now you are left trying to sort out the mess of memories that makes up your head. Guilt, anger, and sadness all managing fuck with your head in ways you could not imagine.

You eye the wine on the table. As much you admonish Aegon for it, you do get why he turned to it from such a young age.

The few hours of solace it gives is wonderful. Fleeting but necessary when everything else becomes too loud. Too much.

“It was not an absence in you. It was one in us… in me,” he looks so young when he says it. It almost reminds you of him when he ten and five. Fresh off a growth spurt. Terribly shy, terribly distant. But that was before. Before the expectation of marriage, of children and semblances of loyalty and care.

That boy is gone, and you are surely not the girl you were once you came to King’s Landing. You mourn that girl, the way you mourn the boy Aemond was before he lost his eye. You did not know him then but you always wonder what strings in him broke when that happened. An unjust act with no reconciliation to follow. If any of that led up to the man standing before you today.

“Well, at least that is something we can agree on,” you look down, trying to get rid of the hot tears in your eyes.

You have spent time trying to build up an armor in front of him. You’d hate to have it crack now.

“My grandsire told me about your little plan.”

It makes you look up. Aemond’s arms are crossed in skepticism.

“Your sister’s health is declining rapidly. Aegon needs to ready himself for this.”

“And he has agreed?”

“Your brother will fall in line as he realizes this is the only way to keep those dear to him safe,” you fiddle with the chocolate tart. “He already has actually.”

Helaena and him took a trip to one of the orphanages down in the Red Keep. It is about time people outside of this castle get a look at those in power. Aemond still does not look convinced.

“Does that upset you? The thought of him being king?”

“No more than it does having my useless sister or foolish nuncle on the throne.”

“What, no mention of the bastards technically in front you for the throne right now,” you think the joke falls flat till Aemond narrows his eye, and tilts his head to side in merriment. You have to do a bit of double take at the slight smirk on his face.

“You danced with one of those bastards.”

So, he remembers that.

“A tactical move,” you roll your eyes. “And when I advise Rhaenyra and Jacaerys that he should go back to Dragonstone as the new heir to the Irone Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, it would have payed off.”

“Leaving Rhaenyra as she’s abed, and stuck with Daemon? How would you manage that?”

“I can be quite convincing,” you shrug. “Not that you would understand.”

He takes another dig on chin, uncharacteristically good natured this day, but he gives you that look. The look where you don’t know whether he wants to skin you or kiss you. No one really has ever looked in the way Aemond has. As if he sees nothing of what you’re really made of while managing to look right through you at the same time.

“Better yet, I may even tell Baela and Rhaena that they should take this time to be with grandmother and grandfather, especially as Corlys may stand a similar fate as Rhaenyra.”

“What about the other one,” Aemond frowns.

Your brows furrow in confusion before it dawns on you. Both him and Lucerys had done a good job of avoiding each other since you all came back from Dragonstone. But you can tell the tiptoeing has created strain and awkwardness for everyone.

“If Baela and Jace are gone with Moondancer and Vermax in toe, that just leaves a clearly petrified Luke and Arrax. I think Vhagar, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre can handle that, no?”

Aemond raises a brow. “You want them to die?”

“I don’t want anyone to die,” well that’s not entirely true, and the look Aemond gives you lets you in that he does not believe that as well. “As few casualties as possible is the goal. They can swear to Aegon when the time comes or be put the King’s Justice. As of now, we should take advantage of the uncertainty that rest amongst everyone.”

Aemond laughs, like really laughs. It takes you for surprise, and only upsets you. He laughs as if he finds your thoughts funny in the way seeing a squirrel run up a tree is funny. “What?”

“Nothing…. Lady Hightower.”

You scoff and throw the pieces of the fruit on the table at him. “Fuck off.”

“You make those faces and turn up your nose at Aegon being king, but you and I both know you will be the first to defend his throne,” you throw a strawberry at him but this time he catches it and eats it. “This is all for the kids, right? It is why they are not here, away from their mother?”

“They are away from their father as well. For their safety.”

You just hum.

“I want to write to them. They did not even get to say goodbye.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“I do not care, Aemond,” you raise your voice.

There is a knock at the door and Quinton comes in with a note in his hand. He eyes the food on the table as you read the note. It is from your father, assuring you about your parents soon departure back to the Riverlands.

“Are you alright,” he whispers. You nod softly. Quinton had been hovering somewhere in the background whenever Aemond was around, especially with the children gone. Clearly not trusting him around you.

Quinton should probably be more worried you around him. His cape swishes behind him when he goes to leave the room.

“You can write to them when the timing is better,” Aemond continues once you two are alone again.

The timing is never right. Not with him, not the with situation you are in.

The end of ninth moon of 129 AC

As you walk down the hall, a soft hand brushes against your arm.

“Are sure you are alright,” Quinton’s voice rings in your head, and tickles your ears softly.

“Of course,” you give fake smile, tilt of the head. He stops in the middle of the empty hall. Though he is your sworn protestor, you feel it is best to keep Quinton on the fringes unless needed otherwise. The less he knows, the safer he is you assume.

“I know you are not well without your children around,” he sighs. “But I would not want you to… sully yourself with things before you can get back to them.”

Sully. You take a long look at Quinton. There is something sweet about the way he views you. Entirely too earnest at time but sweet. You wish you could tell him he had nothing to worry about, and meant it. The pedastal he puts you on, my would it be a hard and long fall.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am ok,”’you reach up to touch his cheek. “You will be the first to know.”

He gives a half-hearted nod before then both of you continue your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers. When you get there the maidservants are beginning to place lights out in the hall for the night.

When you walk in, Rhaenyra is perched where she has been for some time now. Fiddling with the books on the shelf in the corner of the room.

“Maybe something a bit more upbeat. A love story,” you whisper. You go sit next to her on bed, flipping through the large brown book in your hand.

Rhaenyra begins to mumble as you shush her softly.

“It’s ok,” you reach over for the cup next to her bed. Sniffing the cup, you take note of how differently it smells compared to the tea and milk of the poppy mixture you used to.

The tonic seems different, stronger than usual. You put it to her lips and watch Rhaenyra drink it. You wipe her mouth. Even if this weakened state, you find her tragically beautiful. Like a fallen Angel. She resembles her siblings in that regard.

“I need - I need,” her eyes flutter open and shut. “The Prince that was Promised.”

You frown.

“Aeg- Aegon…”

“Your brother?”

“Tell Jacaerys.”

She trails off. Your back straightens as you watch as Rhaenyra’s eyes close, and her breathing slow.

The Prince that was Promised… Aegon.

You lean down and kiss her forehead. Mayhaps, in another life things could’ve been different for her. For her siblings, for her children, for you… for your kids. Climbing off the side of the bed, you gently tuck Rhaenyra in.

When you walk out, you see Quinton standing at attention. You motion for him to come with.

“I need you to do go get Otto,” you mummer. “We have business to get to.”

You cannot see the look Quinton gives you as move to walk ahead of him, and to that you are grateful.

Sullying is your only other option.

In the tenth moon 129 AC, the bell connected to the Royal Sept tolled for thee.

The death of Queen Rhaenyra, First of her Name, sent ripples through the Realm. But that was just beginning of the great strife that would follow her passing. A years peaceful period of reign for the Targaryen family ended by infighting.

Histories will say the first problem came the moment the then Princess and heir decided to sire bastard heirs. Others would say it began the moment, Rhaenyra left her succession vulnerable to her young brother. Not ending his line the moment she had the chance to.

Throughout her short reign as queen, there were festering rumors of usurping. That Lord Otto Hightower would hold secret meetings planning for the best moment to strike to get his grandson son on the throne. Others dispirited this claim, saying that the Dowager Queen Alicent’s afflictions for Queen Rhaenyra would never let that happen.

Ironically, it was not the death of the Rhaenyra is not the official start of what would later be called the Dance of Dragons. Instead the death of Prince’s Aemond One-Eye Targaryen’s lady wife’s parents triggered the domino affect. An escalation of plans.

Most would say the overflipped carriage was a tragic accident, but others whispered about something more serious. An inside attack from a member of the Targaryen family themselves. It was this tragedy that led to a public outcry from the members of the house in the Riverlands, coupling with the public crowning of a new king.

It was Ser Criston Cole, member of the Kingsguard, who crowed King Aegon, Second of his Name, in a private ceremony. Only flanked by his new crowned Queen Helaena, Prince Aemond and his wife, and Lord Hightower. King Aegon was crowned in front of the septon of faith, dawning his namesakes crown.

Back on Dragonstone, Jacaerys Velaryon recieved the news of not only his mother’s death, but also the usurping. Except it was not allies with the news, but foes. Jacaerys was slain at the footsteps of the castle.

It is still debated which side has more to gain to having Jace out of the way. King Aegon or Prince Daemon. But in the end, it was the later who eventually set up him home base at Dragonstone. Fleeing under the watchful eye of his spies in the Red Keep. With only two of his sons with him.

Both sides strategizing their moves. Daemon labeling Aegon and his supporters traitors to the realm, while Aegon set out to kill his uncle himself in given the chance. Under the insistence that it was him who accerlated Rhaenyra’s already bad condition.

Support the amongst the realm split as some supporter the efforts of the new king, far more open to his tactics than one of the Rogue Prince or Rhaenyra’s Bastards. While others scoffed at the boldness of Aegon the Usurper.

Those called on the opinions of the sons that remained at King’s Landing. Rumors of the Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon being chained arriving. But it was not Daemon who negotiated the release of the boys. It was members of House Velaryon.

But there was one condition. It would be Baela and Rhaena, of both House Targaryen and Velaryon, that recieved equal titles after the passing of Corlys. Lucerys would be stripped of title of heir to the Driftmark Throne. It was rumored that this was not a cruel twist of fate from team green, but instead a plea from Lucerys himself.

It was Rhaena Targaryen, in all her wisdom, that worked through the terms. With a heavy heart, and no more bloodshed in her pleas. The more bold sister of the twins, Baela, had other plans. Sensing the release of Lucerys and Joffrey was a trap. She climbed on top of Moondancer, despite the calls not, and made her way closer to King’s Landing herself. But she was not alone. Her grandmother was with her.

Never one to sit from a battle himself, it was King Aegon who climbed his dragon to take them both on. All three dragon and riders fought diligently. Moondancer sustaining life ending injuries, while both Sunfyre and Aegon were injured at battle. But the most costly lost came at the hand of the One-Eyed Prince himself. Taking out Rhaenys and Meleys before further injury could come to his brother.

Enraged at the news of the death of Moondancer, and the almost costly lost of Baela, Daemon began his March. But he also had other plans at play. In efforts to lure the new Prince Regent out of the castle, he sent spies to Oldtown. Where not only Prince Daeron worked with all of Reach to support King Aegon. But also where the young Prince watched over his younger nieces and nephews.

There was an attempt to take the Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Aegon and Alaric Targaryen, son of Aemond. But the plan was thwarted by a terrible beast. Vermithor lurched and lured over Oldtown like a tower himself. His flames as green as the Hightower Beacon. Highly protective over his new rider and those close to her. At just six and seventh month, Daella Targaryen was feared as her father.

Still not wanting to be outdone, Daemon sets his sights towards not only Harrenhal, but another certain house in the Riverlands. His march pillaging those close to Aemond’s wife. Still grieving the lost of parents and seperated from her children, it was rumored the lady became more quiet, drowning herself in her cups.

It was she, with Queen Mother Alicent and Queen Helaena, who pleaded for Aemond to not take the bait. But it was too no vail. After he heard of the attempted kidnapping, he set out with men of his own.

His march mirroring his uncle’s not only through the Stormlands but as well as the Riverlands. There were whispers of inhabitants at Harrenhal. It is still speculated by both Daemon and Aemond did not burn the structure to the ground, when they had to chance. Tales would be written of a certain magic soiling the ground. Keeping safe from harm.

Though those tales are all rumors, what was undeniably true, is that two Targaryen princes breathed their last breaths over God’s Eye on the sixth moon of 130 AC. No one saw the battle, but the sound of snapping dragons and the sight of green and red flames that called attention.

Vhagar and Aemond both fought a valiant effort but it the wounds to both proved to be to substantial. Aemond Targaryen died on top of his crowned dragon. The burns from Vhagar burning Daemon beyond repair.

When their deaths made it back to the Red Keep, the halls recount the Queen Mother tearing her hair in anguish, calling for the deaths of not only everyone who supported Daemon, but Aegon the younger and Viserys alike.

A story of crowns and iron thrones whittled down to death and fire. The grief felt by team green only compounded by the body of Aemond’s lady wife found charred in their chambers. It was Ser Quinton, her sworn protector, who lived to tell the story of having to fight off several guards before it was too late. In a matter of days, Daella and Alaric Targaryen missing from their places in Oldtown.

Both jobs speculated to be last minute plans carried about for Daemon Targaryen, done by his loyal Gold Cloaks. It is said that King Aegon never fully recovers from the death of not only his brother, but his good sister. Punishing those he deems responsible once he comes to.

But there are merchants in Essos that believe they have spotted a beautiful lady hand in hand with her children. One with sparkling white hair, the other with blonde streaks through her dark curls.

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[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Yayy here we go

Can you please write a goldenheart one-shot where Ballister breaks something which belongs to Ambrosius (the way he broke it damaged Bal's health too, like a cut or something) and is afraid that Ambrosius will get mad at him only to be surprised that all Ambrosius cares about is his safety?? It doesn't have to be angsty in particular, I'm all for it if you do make it angsty lol

Ayo!!!

Alright we're trying to work on drabbles again. Here you go, I hope you like it! (Movieverse)

-

Ballister leaned back against the headboard of the dorm bed, playing video games while his boyfriend studied for the upcoming Institute exam. Ballister, by this point, felt confident. He had been studying. Ambrosius, on the other hand, had not. So, he was taking the evening to relax and play video games on Ambrosius’s computer. It was way nicer than anything he could afford, he just used the one the Institute issued him for classwork.

Ambrosius yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I'm gonna take a coffee break. Want anything?”

Ballister hummed. “I'll just take hot chocolate, the exam is tomorrow, I'll need to get to sleep early.” He failed to hide the smirk at the look his boyfriend gave him, knowing he would be up all night making up for his prior laziness.

Ambrosius left the room, and Ballister reached for his water bottle off the bedside table. While drinking, he accidentally aspirated some of the water and choked, reacting too late to dropping the water bottle onto the laptop. The heavy bottle split the keyboard and water spilled into the mechanism, causing it to smoke and short-circuit.

In his frantic attempt to fix it, Ballister winced as the broken metal sliced his fingertips and lightly burned his hand. “No no no no, shit!”

Ambrosius ran into the room and Ballister wanted to sink into the floor with shame. He could feel tears welling into his eyes. Since he was small, he knew the value of things. Breaking toys at the orphanage was punished harshly, as there was hardly any money to go around to buy new ones. When he was even littler, his mom was never cruel to him, but her frustration when he ruined or broke things in the apartment where they already had so little was apparent. He saw what happened to people on the streets when they stole food. Loaves of bread were worth more than starving people, and an expensive laptop was worth far more than Ballister.

“Ambrosius, I broke it, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I choked on my water and dropped it, I– I'm so sorry–!” He broke down and his vision blurred. “I'll replace it somehow, I promise!”

He felt the laptop removed from his lap and soft hands examine his own. “Never mind that!” Ambrosius said, his voice urgent but soft. “Look at your poor hand, are you okay?”

Ballister sniffled. “What?”

“Bal, you’re all cut up! And the sparks got your fingers. Gloreth knows what those tech companies put in here, you got your tetanus shots, right?”

Ballister nodded softly. “I'm so, so, so sorry. I'll replace it. Or– or I'll fix it! I'll build you a new one!”

Ambrosius waved him off, as if it was nothing. “Don't even worry about that right now! Do you think they need stitches? Maybe I should take you to the med hall.”

“No, no, they're fine, I'll rinse them off and put on some bandages. Ambrosius, won't you listen to me? Didn't you see I broke your laptop?” He hiccupped. Ambrosius met his eyes, his own filled with worry. “Bal, honey, I don't care about that. It was an accident. Besides, this was just my gaming laptop, all my Institute documents are backed up, no harm was done except you being hurt.”

“No harm– your laptop is broken! That thing is worth thousands of dollars!”

“I hate to flex my wealth, Bal, but to my family, that laptop isn't expensive. And even if it was, I don't need it. What I need is for my boyfriend who I love more than anything in the world to be safe and happy.” He kissed Ballister on the nose.

Ballister was too stunned to respond, really. He couldn't imagine the privilege of just disregarding an object so expensive, but he got the impression that Ambrosius wouldn't care about the value either way. How could a few cut up fingers, on him, be worth more? He wasn't the Queen, he wasn't worth fussing over.

Ambrosius, as though he read his mind, nuzzled against his temple and stroked his hair. “You're something money could never buy. I liked my laptop, but I love you.”

Ballister eventually ended up making him a new laptop anyway, despite his insistence it wasn't necessary, but every time he looked at the little scars on his middle and ring fingers, he remembered the first day he'd ever felt truly valued.