#he’s a man with a plan and that plan is to win

[misctf]

Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

[zaldritzosrose]

Disease (Aemond x Witch!Reader)

Summary: Harrenhal was a prize and with Daemon leaving it abandoned, Aemond wasn't prepared to let it be lost to them again. Rage simmered within, the inaction of those around him had put his nerves onto a knife's edge. Nothing would stop him from achieving his goal. Except you, of course. A witch like your sister, Alys, but far more formidable if you tried.

Song - Disease by Lady Gaga

CW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, mentions of witchcraft, mentions of drugged wine and hallucinations, mentions of violence, mentions of past deaths (Lucerys and Alys), mentions of manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, innuendo, profanity, masturbation (fem), voyeurism (Aemond watches), oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, mildly submissive Aemond.

Words: 7152

It's a long one..but it was a brain worm that just wouldn't quit!

There are no more tears to cry. I heard you beggin' for life…

Harrenhal was a prize. Aemond was furious to find out that Daemon had taken it from their grasp despite the plans he had tried to lay into place.

Yes, he likely shouldn’t have schemed behind his brother’s back. But he was doing it in the interests of the Crown and their family. Even if it meant undermining the King in the process.

Rook’s Rest had been a key move. But where there was triumph, there was failure.

A win in Rook’s Rest, followed by three more dragons to Rhaenyra’s cause. Meleys and Rhaenys downed, but Aegon and Sunfyre were injured. It felt as though the war was becoming a lost cause. Aemond was floundering, though he would be damned if he let anyone see it.

The mask of cold, sharp indifference was set in place. But inside he felt rotted. Rage was a disease, and it ate him alive.

Long gone was the boy who cried over no dragon, who ran to his mother when he hurt.

In his place was a man filled with little more than hate and violence.

Runnin' out of medicine. You're worse than you've ever been…

His head pounded. Aemond barely heard the words of the council, his mind swirling. He wanted nothing more than to be done with the tiresome meetings.

“There will be no argument,” he snapped suddenly, cutting through the arguing voices of the council members.

“Harrenhal shall not be lost to us again. I will fly out as soon as possible, Cole and our men shall follow.”

There was silence in the room, yet the pain in his head felt like the entire room rang like a bell. He wanted to act, not sit and prattle about plans and alliances.

“Your Grace…” Lord Wylde had barely opened his mouth to speak before he stopped silent.

If looks could have killed, Lord Wylde would have perished immediately. Aemond’s singular gaze burned into him, and the Prince was sure he saw the Lord visibly shrink beneath it.

Aemond said nothing more, but it was clear the matter was done. The air was tense as Aemond left, not a single look back as he silently dismissed the council.

The castle was eerily silent was Daemon and his dragon departed, but eerie was what you enjoyed. Harrenhal was your haven. Your sanctuary to live unbothered and without fear.

Even when Prince Daemon had arrived, he left you well alone.

The Witch of Harrenhal.

That’s what they called you, though no one knew the extent of the things you were capable of.

You were not the first. Your sister, elder by two years but as much bastard blood as you were. She had tried to play with Daemon’s mind, and it had cost her life. And while you loved her dearly, you couldn’t feel much sympathy.

Alys had been warned. Targaryens were unpredictable, untameable. And yet she tried to.

The magic that ran in yours and Alys’ veins was far different from what ran in the fiery veins of the Targaryens. All Old Gods, but nothing alike.

Now your home was empty. The army Daemon had roused gone. Ser Simon Strong hiding away in his rooms. The constant screeches of the blood red dragon no longer grated on your ears.

You had almost returned to a life of darkened peace.

And then word of another silver haired visitor came. Younger, fiercer it was rumoured than his uncle.

The Prince Regent himself was set for Harrenhal.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

Vhagar was an unwelcome sight in the Riverlands for most. For others who openly supported Aegon as King, she was the opposite.

For you, she was a warning to prepare.

Alys had taken it upon herself to try and unpick the mind of Prince Daemon, hoping insanity would distract him from whatever he aimed to do. You were unsure of what exactly your sister had intended with such a plan, but it failed when Daemon’s knife found her heart.

You, on the other hand, knew a Targaryen in Harrenhal was a bid for power. Power you could leech upon yourself.

A bastard. A witch. All things levied as insults against you that you chose to revel in. Alys had taught you everything and you had taken to it like a duck to water. The morbid history of Harrenhal only fuelled you.

So, you kept your eyes to the sky for the sight of the great she-dragon. Waiting patiently for the Prince Regent to land at your doorstep.

But a vengeful and rage filled prince, with the largest living dragon, was a dangerous omen on the Riverlands.

It was as though seeing what Daemon had almost taken from them, Rhaenyra’s banners on different castles as he neared Harrenhal, had sent him into a maelstrom of violence.

Word of the destruction quickly reached Ser Simon, though Harrenhal’s lord was not prepared to attempt a stand against yet another Targaryen. Daemon’s presence had taken it’s toll on him, the biting wit you were used to hearing long extinguished when Aemond finally arrived.

Harrenhal grew larger on the horizon. Vhagar leaving nothing but ash and blood in her wake, feeding off the fury that simmered in her rider.

Aemond had heard the whispers about Harrenhal. The cursed stones, the ghosts that wandered the hallway, the sisters that haunted the old ruin.

But he had also never really believed in magic.

So, he let the stories linger only in the back of his mind. Harrenhal was a prize to win, haunted or not.

The dinner hall was prepared for Prince Aemond’s arrival, the large silhouette of Vhagar was visible from a fair enough distance to give the servants time to prepare.

Ser Simon had forced himself from his rooms, unwillingly knowing that his lack of presence would only anger the young Prince more.

You sat watching from your chambers, sat on the sill of the window. The flash of silver hair in the courtyard had a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite as much a chore as you thought it would be.

The Prince Regent was a treat for the eyes.

You watched as he disappeared into the castle. It would simply be a waiting game. You were going to take your time, reveal yourself little by little. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t toy with him just a little.

Harrenhal was known to be haunted. What were a few extra ghosts in the grand scheme of things?

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

The meal with Ser Simon had been nothing short of uncomfortable for Aemond and everyone involved. He wasn’t one for small talk and it seemed the previous visit from Prince Daemon had soured any thoughts the Strong lord had about Targaryens.

The only balm, the only light in such gloomy halls, had been you. Aemond hadn’t been able to take his eye off you the moment you entered. Posing simply as a servant, a tray with a jug of wine placed in the centre.

Hair falling in waves down your back, the dress you wore nothing like he’d ever seen a servant wear. Something about you just draw him in.

So, when you appeared at his elbow, soft voice offering him wine, he could barely stop himself before he had agreed. The wine slipping down his throat easier than it ever did, and the cups that followed all blurred into one.

The walk back to his chambers, however, was an impossible memory.

You sat in your chamber, on the same floor as the guest rooms the prince currently resided in. But you knew he wouldn’t be within for long…

Not with the hallucinogenic herbs slipped into his wine. His gaze on you had been just enough of a distraction.

All you had to do now, was wait.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

Sleep evaded him. No, not evaded. It tortured Aemond to try. Slumber hadn’t been an easy task for him in a long time. First the pain of losing his eye and then the death of Lucerys had afforded him hours and hours of interrupted and painful sleep.

But this was different. He felt nauseous, head spinning and his body felt like it was constantly falling.

And yet, his feet took him from his bed. He wasn’t sure where he was going, he simply needed to walk.

All the halls looked the same. Dark save for a few sporadic candles. The same grey stone walls seemed to never end. But his body seemed to know where it wished to go.

Aemond didn’t realise he was outside until he felt the night’s air on his face. The soft sounds of the water ahead drawing him closer and closer.

And then he saw you. Moonlight bathing your skin with a glow, the water lapping at your feet. Your gown flowing in rhythm with the waves.

The prince could have sworn he could hear you calling his name. Like a siren.

He was at the edge of the water before he knew it. Eye trained solely on you. How your gown had slipped from your shoulders, dangerously close to exposing more and more of your naked flesh.

Were you not cold? He thought, the water splashing up the toes of his boots. Yet he couldn’t move any further. All he could do was watch you.

I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Aemond’s thoughts were muddled, consciousness swimming in and out of lucidity.

Then he saw it, your hand sliding down from your neck and disappearing beneath the water. The ripples that formed around it told him what you were doing.

Sweet moans floated towards him and Aemond could feel his own heart beating to the same rhythm as your hand.

He knew it couldn’t be real. Aemond had heard the stories of Harrenhal, how it had driven so many to madness. How ghosts roamed the halls and witches hid in the shadows.

But logic was not with him anymore.

His chest heaved at the sight of you, the blood in his veins rushing down to fuel his arousal. Who were you? What were you?

Just as your moans reached a crescendo, his name falling like sin from your lips, Aemond’s hand moving to palm himself…

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

He was back in his room. Sweat coating his skin and rolling down his spine. He was in his bed, cotton shirt stuck to his skin. His head still a little fuzzy, but he felt different.

Aemond could remember pieces of what he’d seen. Was it a dream? No, he couldn’t dream about someone he barely knew, surely?

Yet he could still see you so clearly. Soft skin, long hair. Eyes closes in pleasure as the water overtook your arched body.

His body still thrummed with the remnants of the desire he’d felt.

He lay back down, trying to let sleep take him again. But when he did, he only saw your face.

And it was a face he found himself longing to see again.

I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya (Cure). Cure your disease…

You could feel Aemond’s presence behind you as you worked. There was something about him that was immediately recognisable.

He had woken less rested than he hoped, his headache returned. The socket of his eye felt like it burned. He had asked a passing servant if there was a healer in the castle, and they had sent him to you.

“My prince, is there something you need?”

The moment you met his gaze, Aemond felt a ringing in his head. Flashes of the night before in his mind. But then you spoke again, smiling a little as he shook his head before looking at you again.

“This place is a not built for a restful sleep, I’m afraid. Especially for those not used to it.”

Your voice was so soft, like a balm to his whirring mind.

Before he knew it, you were stood in front of him. A good head and shoulder shorter than he was, head tilted in curiosity.

“That is an understatement, my lady.” Aemond answered, his voice coming out hoarser than he cared for.

He didn’t expect the laugh you responded with.

“I am no lady, my prince. Just a bastard healer.”

Aemond hummed in response, wincing as the pain in his eye burned again. It was intense enough that he didn’t notice your hand on his jaw, turning his head to look at his damaged eye.

He should have pushed you away. But your touch sent sparks through his skin, and he found himself unable to move.

“Can…do you have something to help?”

You smiled, stroking his cheek once before letting him go. Aemond hated asking for help. The Maester in the Keep would simply bring him medicine for his pain without being asked, knowing the prince well enough to know when he’d need it.

The absence of your touch made him feel empty. His skin now cold where your hand had been.

“What does your Maester usually give you?”

You had returned to stand behind the table and for the first time Aemond took the time to look around the room he now stood in. It was everything he would imagine a healer’s quarters would look like. Though it didn’t look like you resided here.

Herbs littered the table in front of you. Books laid wide open, dog-eared as if they had been read hundreds of times. Bowls, bottles, boxes filled to the brim with concoctions and ingredients. Plants hung from every possible surface. A fire smouldered in the background.

“Milk of the poppy, but I do not like how it fogs my mind.” Aemond huffed back, regretting how annoyed he sounded.

You smiled, glancing through the hair that hung before your face to look at him.

“Take a seat, my prince, I can have breakfast brought in here while you wait?”

Aemond nodded, taking a seat by the window. You disappeared for a moment, coming back with a tray of tea and a promise that a servant would bring him some food.

He didn’t know why he felt comfortable, or as comfortable as he allowed himself to ever feel, around you. You had both an air of mystery and familiarity that he truly didn’t understand.

The servant brought the food in silently, setting the tray down in front of Aemond with barely a glance towards the stern prince.

But Aemond only watched you. Much like his dream last night, he couldn’t tear his eye away.

The way you flitted around, gathering everything you needed for whatever it was you were creating for him. The smell was unusual, both sweet and bitter at the same time. But for whatever maddening reason, he trusted you meant him no harm.

“It is ready, but feel free to finish eating. It works better on a full stomach.”

You walked over, setting a steaming cup in front of him. The liquid had a cloudiness to it, much like poppy milk, but it smelled almost floral. He nodded his thanks, drinking it as fast as the heat of it would allow.

Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but it was like the pain began to dissipate immediately. Aemond sighed as the last drops slipped down his throat. The warmth disappearing along with the throbbing in his head.

You leaned against the table, arms tucked into the pockets of your gown and simply smiling.

“It works quickly, does it not?” you asked, head tilted again like he was an experiment to observe.

Aemond set the cup down, wiping at his lips and touching the skin next to his eyepatch. Not a single ounce of pain was left.

“It does indeed, far quicker than any poppy milk I have drank.”

The prince glanced out of the window, watching as the castle began to stir to life below.

“Some might say…it is magic, my prince.”

You're so tortured when you sleep. Plagued with all your memories…

Aemond had already been in Harrenhal for a week. He had become used to the old castle, the eerie sounds that seemed to leak into his room as he tried to sleep.

Some mornings, he would visit you. Sometimes for a remedy for his pain. Sometimes simply to be in your presence. As far as he was aware, it was entirely of his own volition.

The servants seemed to look at you with both fear and reverence. Ser Simon would flit between ignoring your existence and staring at you as though you were another of Harrenhal’s spectres.

The Strong lord was as impassive towards Aemond as well. As though he tolerated the prince’s presence after his experience with Prince Daemon. Learning from his mistakes and keeping his guard up whenever he was in the young Prince’s presence.

But progress was made. Whether it was through loyalty to the King or through resignation to his fate, Simon Strong bent the knee to King Aegon. Even offering Harrenhal to Aemond as a token of House Strong’s loyalty.

And Aemond had no interest in leaving anytime soon.

Sleep, however, would still evade him. Not quite dreams, but not quite nightmares. Aemond would feel like he was sleepwalking, waking up and barely remembering what had happened. The only clue would be the dirt on his bare feet or the tangles in his hair in the morning.

And you were always there.

Sometimes just in the distance. Sometimes simply calling out his name.

But still always there.

He could deal with those dreams. There was something calming about them.

But Harrenhal would never let him rest easy. Whether he believed it or not, the castle was cursed.

One night, was the worst of all.

It had been weeks since Lucerys died. Weeks since that night had plagued his dreams. But the incident had been brought up during a tense conversation with a lesser Lord to Ser Simon. Spat as an insult towards the prince in temper.

But it invaded his dreams. Replaying them over and over until one night.

Aemond didn’t know how he’d ended up on the battlements. The wind whipping at his hair, the drizzling rain soaking through his bed shirt.

Yet he couldn’t see any of it. He could only see the fleeing silhouette of Lucerys on the back of his dragon. He could only remember the vengeance that filled his very soul.

It was like he was there. Reliving it all over again.

You reach out, and no one's there. Like a god without a prayer…

Aemond could feel the wind in his hair as though he was on Vhagar’s back. Chasing down his nephew, screaming insults and threats into the storm.

But he wanted to try and change it. To stop Vhagar clamping her jaws around Arrax’s neck. To stop Lucerys falling into the water.

His hand reached out as he saw Lucerys fall, but when his fist closed it was like he was grasping at smoke. Nothing was there, only the empty courtyard below.

Aemond leaned against the crumbling wall, gasping for air.

Then he heard you. Calling his name in that sweet voice of yours. Luring him back inside. So, he followed. His mind only on the relief you could bring him.

You waited in your chambers. You knew forcing those memories back into his mind was harsh. But it was necessary. You needed him to seek you out. To see you as his sole source of calm.

And if it meant he felt other things for you, you weren’t going to deny him.

You weren’t a fool. You had seen how Aemond looked at you when he thought you couldn’t see. Lingering just a little too long on the swells of your body. He was a young man, you could hardly blame him.

You were only a couple of years his senior, but you knew all too well the way sheltered princes acted around women.

The smell of him found you immediately. The coolness scent of the fresh air mixed with the constant scent of dragon that seemed to linger on his skin. So when your chamber door pushed open, you were barely surprised.

“My prince? Is everything alright?”

You slid from your seat by the window. White nightdress barely concealing the curves beneath. You immediately brought him inside, tugging him towards the fire.

Your hands lingered on his arms, longer than you ever had before. Rubbing up and down the cotton covered muscle to warm him.

“Sleep…I cannot sleep.”

His voice sounded so resigned, you almost felt sorry for putting him in that place to begin with.

“Nightmares? Or these cursed halls stealing your slumber?”

You let your hands trail further down, cheek pressed to the valley between his shoulder blades. His whole body was tense and cold. His eye trained solely on the flames before him. But he didn’t speak.

“Nightmare, I know that look.”

Your hands moved to his front, wrapping around his chest and pressing your body to his. Aemond tried to ignore how warm you were. How sweet you smelled, like flowers and smoke. A fragrance that had always invaded his dreams.

He felt himself relax. His head turning to try and look at you. Spinning in your hold just a little.

“It hasn’t plagued me for a long time. I cannot tell if it is these halls or the stress of war that has…”

Aemond trailed off, why was he revealing himself so easily to you?

You turned him to entirely face you. And it was only then that you realised he was missing his eyepatch. The sapphire glinting in the firelight.

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

You could see the pain in his eye. The crease between his brows and the tight set of his lips. Your hand instinctively going to his jaw, thumb stroking soft circles on his skin.

“Harrenhal will do awful things to those not accustomed, my prince.”

Aemond nuzzled into your hand, eye closing in satisfaction.

“Aemond. Call me Aemond.”

His lips ghosted over your hand. Aemond had only sought comfort in one woman before you, but you were so very different from Sylvie.

He hadn’t paid you to be at his side. You weren’t chasing his presence for status or power. He could see it in your eyes.

You desired him as he did you.

Aemond didn’t know it, but you’d tried to deny it. To stop the feelings for him blossoming. You only intended to manipulate, to bring him to any form of submission you could. But you had fallen just the same.

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

“Aemond.”

His name had never sounded so sweet. Aemond wanted to hear it again and again. To hear you whisper it, scream it even.

“Do you need relief? I can make you so-“

Your words were cut off by his lips on yours. His hand tangled in your hair and holding you tight to your body. The other arm wrapping around your waist. No space left between your bodies.

He grunted into the kiss, your hands tangled into his shirt to steady yourself. His kiss was hungry and demanding, and you welcomed it gladly.

You could feel yourself walking back towards the bed. You had expected him to try to take control. To hold on to some semblance of power.

And you let him. You could feel it, pulling you in and begging you to succumb.

But a powerful prince at your heel was the goal.

Your knees hit foot of your bed, letting yourself fall as Aemond stood over you. You rested yourself on your elbows, trailing the tips of your toes up the length of his leg.

“Or do you need something else?”

Your hands tugged up your nightgown, revealing inch after inch of your bare legs.

Aemond swallowed thickly, the fabric of his breeches growing tighter with every ounce of flesh revealed. You were wearing nothing beneath.

“Take what you need, I am all yours.”

(Ah-ah) Screamin' for me, baby. (Ah-ah) Like you're gonna die…

His instincts were screaming at him to leave. He didn’t know you, not really. He knew your name, that you were a bastard, but he knew very little else. For all he knew, it was you playing with his mind. Making him see things, making sleep evade him night after night until he depended on you.

But in reality, he didn’t care. The fire in his loins was burning, his mind reeling. And the only solution was to have you.

If desire was his disease, you were his cure. If rage and pain were his disease, he was sure you could cure that too.

Aemond dropped smoothly to his knees, hands finding your thighs and squeezing. Pushing them apart until he could glimpse the sweet nectar that lay between.

(Ah-ah) Poison on the inside. I could be your antidote tonight…

“Anything I need?” he whispered, the tip of his nose grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

You were in control, you had to remind yourself of that. But it was hard to ignore the heat that pooled in your belly at the low tone of his voice. Your hand found his hair, tugging the tie from it and letting the silver locks fall loose around his face.

Nails grazed his scalp, gently pulling him closer and closer to your core.

“Absolutely anything,” your words fell to a moan as his tongue darted out, taking one long stripe between your folds.

It was like that one taste of you woke something within him. Gripping your thighs harder and devouring you like you were the only sustenance he needed. The curve of his nose rubbing against your pearl in tandem with his tongue, which was mapping out every fleshy inch of your inner walls.

Aemond grunted into you, his grip on your thighs brutal but the pain only heightened your desire. His own hips rutting against nothing. All he could focus on was your body, the dreams entirely forgotten.

I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Your back was arched off the bed. Aemond switching between lapping at your core and suckling on your swollen bud. Focused on nothing more than coaxing your release forward.

“Delicious…” he whispered, pulling away for a breath while replacing his tongue with his fingers.

The pace of the slender digits was almost as fast as his tongue. There was little doubt you weren’t his first. He could feel your muscles clenching and unclenching, signalling that your release was close.

And he wanted you to spill only on his tongue. The taste, the feel, the sound, it was all he could think of. Like it was the only thing that would bring him any kind of satisfaction. You had taken hold of his mind completely.

“Aemond…” you sighed out his name as he latched onto your pearl again.

Your hips canted up to meet his face, your hold on his hair tight enough to make him hiss in pain. But he relished in it.

A hand planted on your stomach as you peaked around his tongue held your thrashing body down. The other held your body tight against his face until you relaxed beneath him. A few final laps at your quivering walls was all he got before you pulled him up to hover over you.

“Feeling better, my prince?”

The title made him chuckle. The same question you asked after he drank down whatever remedy you created for him. His hair hanging loose around you like a curtain. His slick glossed lips hovering mere inches from yours.

His hips nestled between your thighs with his feet still planted firmly on the floor. Hardness grinding ever so slightly against your bare cunt.

“I could use a little more healing, I wager…” Aemond smiled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

You chased his lips, nipping at his jaw when he pulled away.

“Then let me take care of you.”

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

Aemond didn’t hesitate when you tugged him up as you shuffled further onto the bed. Both of you quickly shedding whatever clothing remained on your body.

You could see his eye flicker immediately down to your breasts as you lay beside each other, his hand reaching out to tug you closer. It was the first time you had seen any real vulnerability in him. The broken parts that made him seek you out.

Your hand found his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss as you gently pushed him onto his back. Aemond sought control in every other aspect of his life, that was easy to see. But tonight, you were going to let him relinquish that control.

He gave in willingly. Eye closed, silver hair fanned out on the dark sheets below. The lean, yet formidable form of his body seemed so small now beneath you. Your hands rested on his chest, nails circling the lines of muscle down to his stomach.

Your thighs caged his hips, swollen cock nestled between your still damp folds.

“Surrender to me, and I’ll take away the pain.”

Your voice was like a balm to whatever uncertainty raged in him. A promise he wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Gone was the demanding prince that had devoured your cunt only moments ago. In his place was the broken boy, wrecked with guilt and rage.

And that was exactly how you needed him. Open and raw, so you could rebuild him.

Aemond nodded, hands squeezing at your waist as he tried to move you over his almost painfully hard length.

“Please…”

That was all he got out before you sank down onto him. Taking him to the hilt with a breathy moan. Your fleshy walls stretching to accommodate him as though you were built for only him.

Aemond’s eye rolled closed, your name falling from his lips as you began to ride him. You started slow at first, rolling your hips back and forth at a painfully slow pace. His hands tightening on your waist in his impatience.

One of his hands trailed up, cupping your breast in his palm and massaging the flesh with a reverence. Your hips sped up at he sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist as he latched his lips onto your pebbled bud. His tongue swirling as a groan of satisfaction left his body.

You laced a hand through his hair, holding him to your chest like a mother would a babe.

“Take what you need, my sweet boy.”

I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya (Cure). Cure your disease…

You were not a mother, not swollen with milk, but the action brought him a comfort he never understood. Just to be cared for and nurtured was enough.

Between the feel of your hot cunt swallowing his cock again and again, to the soft flesh of your breast between his lips, Aemond was as close to the heavens as he believed he may ever get.

His hips began to rut up into you, feet planted on the bed as he put all of his effort into pleasing you. The wet slap of skin against skin mingled with his grunts and your moans.

The first tendrils of his release began to lick at the base of his spine, releasing your breast and simply burying his face in the valley between.

You let him control the pace, slamming his hips into yours with wild abandon. Your release struck you like lightning, your muscles shaking as Aemond chased his own end. And it wasn’t long before he thrust into you one last time. Painting your insides with his seed.

Aemond grunted out his release against your skin. Breath huffing against you as he stilled.

You could hear him mumbling against you, words not meant for your ears. The one word that you could just about make out.

“Mine.”

You ignored it, it wasn’t for you to hear. Not yet anyway. He was in a haze of pleasure and satisfaction. Drunk from his release.

The word lingered in your mind. You had wanted him under your thrall…

But you hadn’t quite expected him to come so willingly.

(Ah) (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya…

Every night from then on Aemond was at your door, or you were summoned to his. Seeking solace in your body in whatever way he could.

The dreams stopped. The rage smouldered, like a fire that simply needed fuel.

And you both knew the fuel would come. But for now, he was happy at your side.

You had succeeded where your sister had failed. You had brought a Targaryen prince to heel. But you didn’t know he had taken your heart as well.

Where Aemond went, you went too. Taken from the service of House Strong to the personal service of the Prince Regent.

Bring me your desire, I can cure your disease. If you were a sinner, I could make you believe…

Aemond had settled in Harrenhal now. Sending word back to King’s Landing to inform the Council that the cursed castle belonged to the King now and that Simon Strong had bent the knee.

He came immediately to your chambers after a night’s ride on Vhagar. The smell of dragon and smoke entering your chambers before he did. And when he entered, you hurried to the door to greet him.

“Do you want a bath drawing, my love?”

The endearment was new, but Aemond had never stopped you from using it. The warmth it sent through his heart was more comfort than he had felt in a long time.

Your hands were already removing his coat and folding it over a chair by the fire.

“You do not have to tend to me, you know? You are not my servant.”

It was not the first time he’d spoken such things. But you always brushed it off. You didn’t tend to him because you felt you had to, it was because you wanted to. Because he needed it.

“Servant or no, I like taking care of you.” You answered, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a smile.

Aemond hummed in response. Maybe it was because he simply wasn’t used to it. Having someone tend to his every need because they truly cared for him. Or at least, he believed you cared for him.

You’d given him no reason to think otherwise.

Lay you down like one, two, three. Eyes roll back in ecstasy…

The bath was drawn, though Aemond had demanded a servant do the work whilst you lounged in his lap. His coat and leather tunic discarded, boots kicked off to the side. His hair loose just as you liked it.

The water was cooling as he finally stripped and stepped in. You kneeled at the side, letting yourself be warmed by the fire. Aemond’s hand reached out for your chin, turning you to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Get in with me.”

It wasn’t a question or a command. Aemond commonly stated what he wanted and left you a choice of whether to follow or not.

You stood, letting his dripping hand slide down your dress. You let the fabric pool around your ankles, stepping in and letting your back rest against his chest. His arms wrapping around your waist, hands flattening against your stomach.

Aemond’s lips found the juncture of your throat and shoulder, planting lingering kisses to your skin.

“You have bewitched me, that’s the rumour that is circling this ruin.” Aemond whispered suddenly, his voice muffled with the skin of your shoulder.

You laughed softly. You’d heard the same. That you had poisoned the prince’s mind, that you had used your unholy powers to seduce and entrance him.

“Is that what you believe? That I have toyed with your mind? Used my body to control you?”

It didn’t hurt you. Not anymore. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d been accused of such.

Aemond’s hands trailed lower, fingers finding the heat between your thighs and circling your bud softly.

“You have done many things, my little witch,” Aemond hummed, parting your folds with his other hand and sinking two fingers within.

“Whether it is enchantment or love I care little. All I know, is that I am better when I am with you.”

That was all you needed to hear. Leaning your head back and pressing hot kisses to his jaw as his hand moved faster. Water splashing around you as he pressed his hips against your backside.

“You have cured me, little witch. Fixed my broken parts and made me whole.”

You could only moan his name, eyes rolled shut as he bit down on your shoulder. Shifting your body until he could slide his length to rest between your folds. The cant of your hips enough to bring him to release just as you spilled over his hand.

I know all your secrets, I can cure ya, oh. Cure your disease…

You knew his heart, Aemond knew that deep down. You knew what ailed him before he could even speak the words himself. Whether it was love or something else, he’d realised quickly that it didn’t matter.

He never openly said it, Aemond wasn’t sure he ever would. But he knew you knew it. In the way he held you. In the way he would take you over and over every night.

It was as though you were a piece to a puzzle he hadn’t realised he’d been struggling with.

His little witch.

(Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Cure ya. (Ah) I can smell your sickness, I can cure ya…

Aemond was in a shroud of bliss. The past failures of the war meant nothing now. He had secured Harrenhal, he was a step closer to finding more success as more of Rhaenyra’s followers fell or abandoned her.

So, when a letter arrived, carried by a servant to what had become your shared chambers, he had believed nothing could ruin what he had.

But the Targaryen symbol, painted red and black on the wax lit a fire within him that hadn’t existed in a long time. He dismissed everyone, even you, from his presence as he read. The letter was from his uncle. Congratulating him on securing Harrenhal.

But that wasn’t all.

It was an invitation. A taunt even. Goading him to end the war once and for all. Prince against Prince. Uncle against nephew. Dragon against dragon.

You could tell something was wrong the second you saw him again. The tense set of his brow and jaw. The letter discarded on the floor.

“Daemon?”

Aemond nodded, continuing to stare out of the window.

“He wishes to settle this once and for all. Him against me.” He snapped, his hands clasped behind his back.

You were already forming a plan. You knew Daemon, you knew what his mindset was now, having seen him only months past before he murdered your sister – a fact you had sometimes considered revenge for.

“Invite him to Harrenhal. The God’s Eye has enough space for dragons to battle.”

Aemond turned to you in shock. You planned to send him to his potential death?

But he knew you. You were more intelligent than some would allow themselves to believe. You read people like Aemond read books.

Your hands wrapped around his waist.

“Bring him here and I will handle the rest. You will have your battle, and I will repay him for my sister’s demise.”

Aemond hummed, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kissing it.

The date was set. Daemon was set to arrive that night. Vhagar was as restless as her rider. Waiting outside the blackened walls for her rider’s call.

The screech of Caraxes was heard before he was seen. The entire castle was on edge. A dragon battle was both a spectacle and a devastation.

Aemond was sure Daemon would arrive alone, and he was right. There was no army, just his uncle and his blood red dragon.

The elder prince landed outside the gate, settling beside Caraxes to wait for Aemond.

But you remembered how easily Daemon had succumbed to the horrors of Harrenhal, and you could only hope it would happen again.

Though you weren’t going to leave things to chance.

Herbs were you weapon. Knowing what could warp or sharpen a mind. It was an unfair advantage, of course, but you had good reason to ensure Aemond’s victory.

The child that grew in your womb.

The herbs hung from the tree Caraxes rested under were subtle, but the mix of scents would be just enough to meddle with Daemon’s concentration. You had no plans to allow any risk that Aemond would perish.

Aemond was outside beside Vhagar. Weapons strapped to his belt and a stern set to his expression. He could feel your presence the second you stepped onto the shore.

“I had to see you…” you called out, taking cautious steps closer.

He turned, his face softening as he saw you.

“A welcome sight, my little witch.” His voice was as tense as his face.

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

You both stood in silence. The weight of what was coming heavy in the air.

Despite everything, despite your beginnings, he loved you. Even if he never said it, he loved you.

And you loved him.

When you pulled away, your expression was entirely serious.

“Come back, my love. Whatever it takes, come back…to us.”

Aemond held you at arm’s length, silently begging for an explanation. All you gave was moving his hand to rest on your womb. The heavy fabric of your gown having hid the swell of your stomach for the last few weeks.

“I’ll never leave you…either of you.”

The vow he made sunk into your veins. Those words meaning more than any declaration of love.

He turned, mounting Vhagar as Caraxes screeched in the distance.

The battle begun.

I can cure your disease. (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Cure your disease. (Ah) Ooh…

You watched from the safety of the castle. Hand on your stomach as you silently prayed.

You had fixed his pain, gave him something to fight for.

You could only hope it would be enough.

Aemond Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@aemondsbabe @kaelatargaryen @thought--bubble

@towriteloveontheirarms @anjelicawrites @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell

@tumblin-theworldaway @aemondsbabygirl

@hoosbandewan @mysticalendings @arcielee

[ionoreo]

Quite a few people had said that the Lady was strange. Her father has never been seen alone with a woman in his life, though they tended to approach him in droves during parties or other social gatherings— and yet, out of the blue, she had appeared, held firmly in his arms. He had cherished the child despite the rumors (her mother was a fairy, she's a changeling, maybe he picked the child off the streets) until she had murdered a man in the street.

The Lady was convicted for the murder at the ripe age of seventeen, fighting and kicking and screaming that it was well within her rights to do so. Yes, the man was a vampire and these sort of people often claimed to be vampire hunters; regardless, she murdered him as a man. There was no way she could have known his true nature, not when he had approached her in broad daylight and she had knocked his lights out.

And then the Lady learned that was the King's cousin. Blood related, not adopted, and when she raised this point to the judge they simply shrugged and said "oh dear, perhaps your father can get the courts on it after you're dead."

The Lady did not plan to leave her father to die with a bloodthirsty vampire maniac alone.

The first knight to go down promptly had his sword stolen. The second knight to go down was used as a shield in lieu of actual shields, though his armor certainly did the trick, and the third and fourth all the way to the fiftieth didn't fare much better. There were thousands of knights in the kingdom, impossible for a single woman- a girl!- to hold off properly, with a glorified baseball bat and an oversized sword, but there were only about twenty left in the immediate area and she didn't seem to be slowing down.

Her father watched with a glint in his eye. Tears or mischievousness? Several people in the stands were placing their bets on it. Many more had already placed theirs on her winning. After all, she was small and fast and kept tripping them before banging them in the head, and the dead body of the second knight she'd killed that she kept dragging around even after the first few bodies were gone certainly didn't help with the aura of fear she was able to emit.

In fact, news had reached the arena that several knights had suddenly retired after news of the carnage began to spread. Someone tossed the girl a rose. More people began to throw things— flowers, money, someone even threw a piece of bread. As germy as it was now that it had been on the dusty floor, the Lady ripped it apart and shoved it into her mouth quickly. Twenty-four hours without food leaves one very hungry, especially when you are making the most of your suspiciously good fighting skill.

The Lady waves at the crowd as the next round of knights step into the arena. Five in fighting shape and one of them is shaking so badly his armor clanks. The Lady waves at them too.

The knights surrender. Several of the King's workers exit the stands calling for backup (as if it'll come) and the kid just stands there, eventually picking up her corpse and carting it away, probably to pick it clean and preserve the skeleton.

"How does she do it?" one of the women besides her father asks. "Are the rumors true?"

"Yeah," her father replies, "they are."

"What?"

"Huh?"

A noble sentenced to die is allowed to choose their execution method. They ask to die in honourable combat against the king's knights, armed with a wooden sword while the knights have real weapons. It's been 24 hours since the execution started and the king is running out of knights.

[leclerc-s]

track six - i can still make the whole place shimmer

series masterlist

JAPAN 2023

QATAR 2023

ines_alonso and charles_leclerc posted to close friends

so proud of you oscarpiastri, sucks that i can't be there with you the only way to celebrate a third championship and a maiden sprint win. this can only go wrong from here monopoly has been cancelled after someone nearly broke the table when he got beat

CHARLES' BIRTHDAY

ines_alonso and oscarpiastri posted new stories

he actually liked this cake, don't listen to whatever oscar has to say birthday boy 🥳🩷 an artist at work...i actually don't know what's she's trying to make

oscarpiastri and ines_alonso posted new stories

inés said we were on a time crunch, now i've lost her inside a flower shop and she's not answering her phone. send help. sos. birthday boy seems to have something devious planned second birthday cake was a success!!!

liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, pedri and others

ines_alonso feliz cumpleaños amorcito!! here's to spending more by your side (with osc of course) for many more years 🩷🎉

tagged: charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc oh mon soleil, i might start crying again. please don't do this to me.

oscarpiastri you'll cry regardless charlie charles_leclerc stop being mean to me, it's my birthday oscarpiastri i got you a cake, that's enough user01 their love language is bullying each other

user02 had to sneak oscar in there somehow

user03 inés loves both her boys. i'm convinced she will never shut up about them user02 i fear you may be right bestie

oscarpiastri happy birthday booger 🧡

charles_leclerc thank you stinker ❤️ pedri i will never understand how this dynamic works arthur_leclerc mate it's been years and i still don't understand it. half the time i'm convinced they hate each other. oscarpiastri it's our love language arthur, leave us alone.

isahernaez feliz cumple charlie 🎉

charles_leclerc gracias isa 😊 user04 brother lost even his ex-girlfriend in the divorce to charles user05 not only is he not winning races but he's also not winning life, shit must suck for him. user06 he just became the only non redbull winner of the entire season, put some respect on his name louieee bitch won the race at the sacrifice of his own teammate, we'll put respect on his name when he fucking earns it. user07 besides this post is about charles, not his fucking whiny ass teammate

user08 i want to know what the product of that picture charles was taking in slide 2

user09 he's the embodiment of that proud boyfriend meme user10 he's just a silly little goofy guy

fernandoalo_oficial feliz cumpleaños to that french guy or whatever

charles_leclerc you sent me an entire paragraph telling me happy birthday this morning you're not fooling anyone fernandoalo_oficial that was supposed to be a secret tonto charles_leclerc oops

jensonbutton HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLES!! 🎉🎉 YOU'RE SO OLD NOW!!

charles_leclerc THANK YOU OLD MAN!! user11 the difference between fernando and jenson's comments is so fucking funny to me

maxverstappen1 drinks are on the birthday boy this weekend

charles_leclerc you people are animals when you drink. i should be getting free drinks not the other way around alex_albon well for my birthday i was forced to pay, so you should have to pay this weekend charles_leclerc this a hate crime against me

user12 i can't believe charles is 26, it feels like just yesterday he was starting out as a rookie at sauber

user13 STOP! YOU'RE MAKING ME FEEL OLD!! user12 your bio says you're 16? how the fuck does that make you feel old?? user13 IT JUST DOES OKAY?! DON'T QUESTION ME!

patriciooward FELIZ CUMPLE CABRON!!

charles_leclerc GRACIAS PATITO!! user14 i've seen enough scuderriaferrari get this guy into your car as carlos' replacement. he speaks spanish too user15 and charles actually likes this one

ximena.gomez feliz cumpleaños charlie!!

charles_leclerc gracias ximena! inés said to ask you about the thing ximena.gomez the answer is still no charles_leclerc one chance, just one chance that's all she asks

TEXAS 2023

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, francesca.cgomes and others

ines_alonso there's no weekend like austin gp weekend (this message was paid for by daniel ricciardo) (p.s. please wear your fucking boots right. the jeans go on the outside not tucked inside the boots)

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francesca.cgomes you know what they say, save horse ride a cowgirl

ines_alonso yeehaw!! charles_leclerc please stop flirting with her oscarpiastri you're never beating the allegations ines_alonso WHAT ALLEGATIONS?? francesca.cgomes that the boys are a cover up for our super secret romance. ines_alonso oh that, no, that is true pierregasly STOP THIS MADNESS!!

user16 how i love women

charles_leclerc i feel like this is directed towards me...

ines_alonso that outfit is atrocious and i never want to be in your presence when you wear it. justice for andrea. charles_leclerc OSCAR SAID IT LOOKED GOOD! ines_alsonso OSCAR WEARS T-SHIRTS AND SHORTS AND CALLS IT A DAY, NEVER LISTEN TO HIM maxverstappen1 mate, i'm afraid oscar lied to you oscarpiastri i live to see him make an embarrassment of himself in public. charles_leclerc you're sleeping on the couch when we get home alex_albon that's an upgrade from when your drunk ass made him sleep on a piece of turf on your balcony last year landonorris why the fuck am i never invited to anything? first it was the group bowling and now this party? danielricciardo he-who-shall-not-be-named is your friend louieee because you're a snitch bitch that's why asshole logansargeant in their defense the party was before bowling and no one wants to party with peter pettigrew or lord voldemort user17 the harry potter references i'm dying

user18 so are we supposed to act like you didn't embarrass yourself in front of patrick dempsey?

ines_alonso if we could do that, that would be great thanks user18 oh girl, that's going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

danielricciardo thank you inés i'll be venmoing you $150 later today

ines_alonso pleasure doing business with you mr.ricciardo logansargeant he's actually paying you?? he told me i would get a shoutout on his .jpg account ines_alonso i'm his favorite logan, you should know this logansargeant doesn't mean i should like it

jensonbutton i had a blast this weekend, i enjoyed watching you lose your shit on danica patrick this weekend.

ines_alonso you're ass is such a shitstirrer, i'm telling my dad! jensonbutton he sent me an audio of him cackling for a straight 3 minutes. his ass enjoyed that too user18 this is my favorite daughter and step-father duo user19 jenson button is not a step father but the father that stepped UP

lilymhe the cutest cowgirl ever

ines_alonso oh stop it, i'm actually blushing oscarpiastri unfortunately she is actually blushing. charles is glaring at her from across the room lilymhe damn charles_leclerc i took your girl charles_leclerc fight me lily alex_albon come get your girlfriend she's being irrational again alex_albon mate, we are not having this debate ever again. they're in love, let them be. charles_leclerc you're literally no fucking help

user20 love how inés, kika, and lily flirt with each other to piss off the boys

user21 alex is just resigned to the fact that they do this, charles and pierre absolutely lose it every time, meanwhile oscar just lets them have fun to see charles lose it everytime. user22 inés and oscar live for tormenting charles and i love that user20 it's the difference between gen z's born in the 00's to the 90's is so noticeable between the three of them.

MEXICO 2023

BRAZIL 2023

liked by lilymhe, kellypiquet, patriciooward and others

ines_alonso a little photo dump for the girlies as we head into the final race of the triple header

tagged: charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, alex_albon, lilymhe

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patriciooward nano and honey make a reappearance!!

louieee she's kept them hidden from us for too long ines_alonoso they're camera shy

alex_albon i've missed my godchild nano!!

maxverstappen1 that's my godchild albon! ines_alonso ladies, please, you're both nano's god father alex_albon um, i'm more qualified to take nano if a 'tragic' accident were to happen to any of you maxverstappen1 i have two cats alex, you have a fucking farm, we are not doing this. ines_alonso i've made a horrible mistake

charles_leclerc where's the picture of my mexico podium??

oscarpiastri maybe win a race then she'll post you charles_leclerc you won a sprint! not an actual race! oscarpiastri I STILL WON!

arthur_leclerc i see there's no mention of me taking that 6th picture?? where is my credit alonso??

ines_alonso we bought you dinner and yet you still found a way to complain about taking one picture arthur_leclerc you try fourth-wheeling you, dumb, and dumber louieee it's dumb, dumber, and dumbest maxverstappen1 wait but who's who? oscarpiastri charles is clearly dumbest charles_leclerc this is why people think you hate me oscarpiastri haven't you heard, we're the second coming of seb and mark. multi-21 2.0 incoming alex_albon it was very clearly multi-21 (lovers edition) oscar user23 mark is probably shitting himself seeing this comment oscarpiastri i can confirm that

user24 just a pretty girl with her pretty boyfriends

user25 how to get inés alonso to blush 101 ines_alonso wrong! it's how to get three idiots to blush

kellypiquet i see the picture of the broken table didn't make it to the photo dump

ines_alonso we're never playing monopoly again maxverstappen1 if someone hadn't cheated the table would've never broke! georgerussell63 I DIDN'T CHEAT, YOU JUST SUCK! alex_albon YEAH, TELL HIM GEORGE! user26 i feel like we're missing some important lore here pierregasly post championship and sprint win monopoly is great, until someone (max) breaks the table patriciooward don't forget to specify that it's drunk monopoly alex_albon i feel like i would remember if you were there? patriciooward oh, i wasn't there in person but i was there via facetime. all of you were so fucked up that you don't even remember it

user27 i don't know what's more surprising max breaking a table, george cheating (allegedly) at monopoly, or all of them ending up so drunk they don't remember anything besides a broken table??

user28 definitely the broken table. user29 yeah, the drunkenness is expected from them so is george facing cheating allegations in monopoly.

fernandoalo_oficial i did not give my consent to having that picture posted

ines_alonso too bad old man. you snooze, you lose. user30 the world may be calm (not really) but you can count on inés and fernando always being their chaotic selves

logansargeant this is logan sargeant erasure

ines_alonso oh sorry, the whole world must know i bought you a single shot after your point in austin logansargeant well now i feel bad because it came at the expense of lewis... charles_leclerc what about me?! i'm the reason you got the point! logansargeant you said you wouldn't watch hamilton with me again... charles_leclerc fine, we can watch hamilton again logansargeant 😄😄 user31 a duo i didn't know i needed

danielricciardo is that the picture max and i took when you fell asleep?

ines_alonso yes, i'm never leaving my phone unattended with you two maxverstappen1 that's a consequence that comes with flying airmax, deal with it baby alonso louieee BABY ALONSO!!! ines_alonso oh no, that's going to stick isn't it?? estebanocon they've been calling you baby alonso behind your back for years. jensonbutton we've been calling you baby alonso since 2015 ines_alonso oh my god

lilymhe thank you for beautifully capturing my relationship with alex

ines_alonso you're welcome my love 🩷 alex_albon i'm right here lilymhe shhh alex, it's okay, you're my one and only (sometimes) alex_albon WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?! ines_alonso it means that whenever you piss her off she runs to me and kika francesca.cgomes it's true, we kick oscar and charles out of the apartment and force them to spend the night with pierre alex_albon STOP MAKING ME SEEM LIKE A BAD BOYFRIEND! ines_alonso you're a good boyfriend alex, we're just teasing. (got to get ahead of the media)

VEGAS 2023

liked by sabrinacarpenter, louieee, alex_albon and others

ines_alonso a week spent in los angeles and las vegas. met some new friends and hung out with some old friends

tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter, schecoperez, logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe, jensonbutton, joris__trouche

view all comments

maxverstappen1 where the fuck am i?

ines_alonso bitch, you won every race this season, let other people have a chance maxverstappen1 YOU HAVE CHECO ON HERE!! schecoperez me odias o qué? maxverstappen1 no, do not put words in my mouth checo!

user32 ariana (sabrina) what are you doing here?

user33 talk about an unexpected crossover user34 the most unexpected friendship to come out of the 2023 season

louieee ooh, we look so cute

ines_alonso yeah we do!! louieee 🩷🎀

charles_leclerc i'm still mad at you...

oscarpiastri maybe you shouldn't go around telling us to call you charles leclerc-verstappen maxverstappen1 well now i'm max leclerc-verstappen redbullracing max, we can't do this again, the rumors just stopped oscarpiastri i know where you live scuderiaferrari here we go again (the rumors never stopped) mclaren oscar, please refrain from threatening fellow drivers user35 they're just so tired of having to pr train oscar user36 we're talking about the kid who willingly admitted he pushed inés off the track when they were karting because they had a bet going on and he didn't want to lose

sabrinacarpenter it was a delight to meet you and sharles

ines_alonso enough to get a nonsense outro?? sabrinacarpenter woah, take me out on a date first ines_alonso name a time and place baby 😏 charles_leclerc i can fight... oscarpiastri i can laugh as you take charles down... sabrinacarpenter oscar's my favorite now charles_leclerc of course he is

jensonbutton WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PICTURE??

ines_alonso it's a screenshot from the sky sports broadcast. it's the face i make whenever i'm forced to work with that woman jensonbutton oh my god ines_alonso it's my favorite f1 meme now

charles_leclerc now that i'm no longer upset, you look beautiful ma belle 🩷

ines_alonso thank you bebe ❤️ user37 he's trying to get back in her good graces guys oscarpiastri ass kisser charles_leclerc YOU WON'T LET ME GET A DOG alex_albon jeez oscar, let the guy get a dog oscarpiastri HE'S THE ONE WHO SAID NO MORE PETS AFTER HONEY!

logansargeant LET'S GO!! I'M OUT OF THE TRENCHES!!

patriciooward FROM THE TRENCHES WE RISE!! user38 now this, this is my favorite duo inés alonso has given us

lilymhe i look great and alex is there

francesca.cgomes she's everything and he's just ken ines_alonso the realest comment here sabrinacarpenter girls who are everything and boyfriends who are just ken pierregasly our job is just car

joris__trouche he did not want to let go of mimi

ines_alonso he genuinely cried when we left charles_leclerc STOP EXPOSING ME!! oscarpiastri you called me sobbing because you were leaving mimi behind maxverstappen1 just get him a dog oscar oscarpiastri he dug his own grave max

user39 the random jenson meme is sending me

user40 the fact that both of them have pulled the same face while working with d*nica user41 they're further proving the buttlonso lovechild allegations because i feel like fernando has also pulled the same face. user39 oh my god you're so right

francesca.cgomes just a pretty girl living her best life

ines_alonso i'm blushing oscarpiastri can confirm she is blushing charles_leclerc i'm so done. user42 free my guy user42 not from the relationship but from his partners (inés) flirting with the girls (kika, lily, sabrina) user43 nah, my guy brought this onto himself by flirting with max verstappen at every single fucking opportunity liked by ines_alonso and oscarpiastri

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @greantii // @ietss // @yeanoskrrt // @brakingboundaries

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @◇Heart- Trees◇ //@michelleyw81

¡leclerc-s speaks!

unfortunately with the current state of the us, this is my only escape. i don't know why it became so unhinged but i remember people joking about max and charles getting married and this is a fanfic so i thought, why the fuck not?? IT'S ALL JOKES PEOPLE!!

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[sainzfav]

❝︎ must be fate ❞︎ … joe burrow pt.1

left you out there standing

summary - after a tragic loss to the ravens, joe finds himself pissed and frustrated. on the contrary, a marylander visiting her parents, getting a break from the busy new york life finds herself crossing paths with a certain quarter back

pairing - joe burrow x fem!reader

song inspo - n/a

warnings! - cursing, alcohol

word count - 1.4K

authors note - this takes place at the november 7th, 2024 game when the bengals played the ravens!

"Fuck"

Joe said under his breath. The Bengals lost 35-34 to the Ravens.

"It's just an away game, man, we'll get them next time, trust," Alex said, coming up behind Joe.

"Alex, we were up for half the fucking game, then because we got lazy, we lost," Joe said, pissed off about the outcome of the game.

It was true; they got lazy. It started off great for the Bengals. The Ravens weren't playing well, and that was enough to get two touchdowns ahead, but the fourth quarter came, and the Bengals got lazy. Even when the Ravens threw a touchdown pass instead of wasting time, leaving the Bengals with about a minute of playtime, the Bengals still managed to lose.

"I don't want to hear any fucking excuses, we lost cause we were dumb and lazy, now get out of my face."

Joe's tone was sharp and angry. There was no "bright side" to this situation. They had the perfect opportunity to win and didn't take it.

-

*liked by alexconsani, charlidamelio, and 1.6M+ others*

ynofficial gotta love a w

"Wow Y/n, over 1.5 mill already, you're insane"

Y/n whipped her head around.

"Maya, you're fucking joking... 1.5 million?! There's no way"

"How are you surprised? People love a good casual post, anyway, what's the plan for tonight? Are we going out, back to your parent's house? What are we doing?"

"I feel like we have to go out, right? Plus, I wanna show you the bars around Baltimore. We could do a little bar hopping night, how does that sound?"

"Oh my god, perf" Maya exclaims, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Maya and Y/n had been friends since college, and she was truly the one person who treated Y/n like a normal person.

Y/n then connected her phone to the car to play her music through.

"Play some Pitbull, I want to get hype for the bars," Maya says loudly from the backseat. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes while finding a good Pitbull song to put on.

-

"Joe, some of the guys and I are going out, how about you join us. I know it was a shitty game, but going to a bar or somethin' is probably better than sitting alone like a loner," Tee says, reaching to the seat in front of him, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"I'll think about it"

"Well, hurry up, cause once we get back to the hotel, we're all gonna shower and get ready and shit to go out"

"Yeah, alright"

Joe was honestly not as much of a "going out" person as some of his other teammates, but going out to distract from the shit game that just happened did seem appealing.

-

The sound of the music and conversation filled Y/n's ears the second she and Maya stepped into the bar. The electric atmosphere was impossible to ignore, and a feeling of excitement flooded over Y/n.

"This is the best bar in Baltimore; the vibes are always so good, and their drinks are the best," Y/n tells Maya.

After about 45 minutes, Maya is gone, nowhere to be seen, leaving Y/n on a bar stool as she drinks the last of her vodka cranberry.

Just as Y/n is about to order another drink, she feels a presence next to her. She turns her head and notices a familiar figure.

Joe fucking Burrow?! Y/n thinks to herself. What a coincidence, holy shit.

Joe Burrow was the last person Y/n expected to see at a bar. Actually, she hadn't even thought about it once, but here she was.

He looked pretty pissed, which made sense after tonight's game. Just then, a loud voice came closer to where Y/n was sitting.

"Joe! Whatcha order?"

It was Tee Higgins, whose mood was the complete opposite of Joe's.

"I don't know, hey... Mike? What's your best drink?" Joe asks the bartender, reading the name tag.

"It's basic, but how about an Old Fashioned? Can't go wrong with that"

"Yeah, alright, I'll have that"

Joe then glances over and gives Y/n a weak smile, then looks down to notice her Ray Lewis jersey, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the bar table.

Y/n notices his face and immediately feels awkward.

"Would you like another vodka cranberry miss?" The bartender asks

"Oh, uh, yes, please, that would be great!" Y/n says, getting caught off guard by the bartender, still feeling awkward about sitting next to Joe.

Should have planned to go out and wear something other than a fucking jersey. This is so fucking awkward.

"Good night for you guys, huh?" Joe suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence between the two.

"Yeah, and rough one for you?"

"Yup. So, you from around here? Not to be weird or anything"

Y/n smirks at his comment. For a star, Quarter Back, he's a little awkward and shy.

"Sorta, I mean, I'm from Maryland, Annapolis to be specific, but I live in New York"

"Oh nice, what brought you to New York?"

"Work, I'm an actress, so everything I do is pretty much over there and on occasion, LA"

Never in a million years did I think I would be making small talk with Joe Burrow at a local bar in Baltimore, but here we are.

"Oh sick, how is that life? It seems like it would be crazy"

Y/n chuckles at his response. Being an actress is not a normal job by any means, and it's always so chaotic, but it's Y/n's passion.

"It is, but I wouldn't give it up for the world"

"That's pretty cool"

Just then a loud, drunk Maya comes over.

"Holy shit, Y/n, I met the hottest guy, and he bought me a drink, but then it turns out he has a girlfriend, well, they also just broke up because he bought me a drink, and oh my god, is that Joe Burrow?"

Joe starts laughing a little while Y/n covers her face in embarrassment. Maya was probably the most outgoing person Y/n knew. She was never afraid to speak her every thought, which sometimes led to awkwardness.

"Y/n, pretty name"

Y/n blushes at Joe's compliment, catching her completly off guard.

"Thanks," She says kindly, still partially embarrassed of Maya's story.

"Well, if you don't mind, Joe Burrow, I'm taking my best friend dancing, so kiss your goodbyes, and Y/n lets go"

"Hold on, let me get your number. I've had a shitty day on top of a shitty week, and our conversation, although short, has been nice."

Was Joe Burrow really asking for my number?

"Uh, yeah"

He then gives Y/n his phone for her to type in her number. After she adds her contact, Maya practically pulls her arm off, dragging her away from the bar, leaving her drink and Joe behind.

-

The next day, Y/n woke up to a line of texts from Maya.

Maya: Heyyyy, Y/n, so I know I said I would get an Uber back to your house, but I'm at a guy's apartment right now.

Maya: You up, Y/n? I assume you're still in bed, actually, but I'm at this guy Derek's apartment, just letting you know.

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Well, love you, I'll be back at your parents sometime today.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Y/n rubs her eyes, trying to wake up more and make sense of Maya.

Just then she get's another text.

Rolling her eyes, expecting Maya, she checks her texts.

Instead, it's an unnamed number.

(513)111-1111: Hey, it's Joe!

Y/n sits up immediately. Sure, she gave him her number, but she didn't expect him to actually text her.

Holy shit

Y/n: Hey! It's Y/n

Joe: Yeah, I remember haha

Joe: Also, how's your friend? I saw you leaving the bar, but she stayed with this guy, who, and I mean no disrespect, looked like a douche...

Y/n: She's fine, at least I'm pretty sure. She texted me this morning that she's at this guy Derek's house, and she seems fine. She said she'll be coming back to my parent's house sometime today. All is good, haha. Thanks for asking, though!

Joe: Okay that's good. Well I gotta do some shit for press, but I'll talk to you later, Y/n.

Y/n: Have fun! ;)

And with that, Y/n turns off her phone, all of a sudden smelling the sweet smell of bacon from downstairs.

[nov4-rocket5]

You didn’t actually read Watchmen at all if you think that’s the conclusion he “wanted” readers to come to. The final words of it are, “I leave it entirely in your hands.” Literally telling the reader to come to their own conclusions on what happens next, who was right, and what it all meant. The outcome Moore thought would be best and what other readers thought would be best and how they all differ is a feature, not a bug.

He doesn’t even “side” with Veidt. The guy’s Superhero persona is literally named after a poem about all a man’s accomplishments crumbling to dust in the wind. Suppose there might have been a reason Moore picked that name in particular for a character?

Moore may be more blunt in his disliking of Rorschach now, but he’s also the only person who’s really worth liking, and the character who’s mindset and psychology are dug into the most out of Watchmen’s cast. And while Rorschach is indeed a very sympathetic and pitiable character, he’s also heavily flawed. FFS, the dude brushes off his idol sexually assaulting someone as a “moral lapse” because Rorschach projects his need for a strong father figure onto people like The Comedian or President Truman.

Speaking of Truman, Rorschach spends a lot of his journal praising the guy, particularly for dropping the atomic bombs for the greater good. But when Ozymandias makes a big convoluted space squid and drops it on a city for the same reason, Rorschach very quickly changes his tune. When Rorschach’s own logic and morality plays out in front of him and in his city, he can’t stand it and changes his tune.

Now, Truman and Veidt’s actions and circumstances aren’t exactly the same, but the comparison between Ozy and Truman is about the public moral argument from the government that people like Rorshach believes, which is that is was a bad thing that had to be done to prevent even more bloodshed. In the much more intense Cold War of Watchmen, Ozy's logic is exactly the same as Truman's, he killed some to save a lot more. Circumstances are different but the moral argument is the same.

But for all of Rorschach’s flaws and hypocrisy, it just makes him and his actions all the more interesting to dissect compared to the other characters Watchmen follows.

Daniel is a superhero because birds and airplanes are neat. Laurie's there because her mom said so. Jon's there because of the government. Eddie wants to kill minorities for the epic win lolz. Rorschach's there because he has been the victim and no one helped him. It's why he does what he does even when there seems little point and the act is ultimately futile.

And that status as a victim is why he's the only one with the guts to tell Adrian to piss off. Jon, Dan, and Laurie can dismiss the deaths of millions in the name of the greater good, but Walter Kovacs can't, because he is those people.

Consider who dies in the blast. It's the Bernies. The lesbian couple. The shitty part of New York where Walter lives. Mrs. Sharip (who reminded Walter of his mother) and her children are very likely killed by Adrian's actions. These are people that Walter Kovacs saw every single day and now they're dismissed as suitable foundations for Adrian's plans.

And hey, once the Cold War is over and the Russians back off, what's the stop Veidt Industries from going global?

Walter is different from all the other characters because he's not a "hero". He's the victim. Being a working class, illegitimate abuse survivor in instrumental to his every action as Rorschach.

TL;DR: No, Moore didn’t side with Ozymandias or Rorschach, he just told a story and left it up to the readers on what it all meant.

[revelboo]

you producing first so quickly has me inspired to start writing again

That’s awesome! Writing is an escape for me. It can feel like work sometimes, but these are just for fun and I missed writing things that didn’t need to be perfect or meticulously planned out

My Favorite Accident Pt 3

TFP Knockout x Reader

• Slowly following at a distance, he can’t understand why you wouldn’t just let him permanently take care of the problem, namely that other human who’d dared lay hands on you. And because that man’s still alive, he’s had to tail you to make sure you get home safely. While he doubts the man will go anywhere near you after a run in with him, it still bothers him. That uncertainty that something might happen to you if he’s not there as he keeps remembering the fear in your eyes. Realizing that you’re not as tough as you act. No one gets to frighten you like that, except maybe him.

• Pulling into the apartment complex, you press your head back against the headrest. Your nerves finally catching up to you during the drive, leaving your hands faintly trembling at what might have happened. At what likely would have happened if not for Knockout. And maybe he’s right and you should have let him take care of Ricky, but siccing your big, alien racing buddy on that idiot didn’t exactly sit well with you. And there’s that baffling, snarling protectiveness of Knockout’s to figure out, too. He’d been furious, more than ready to stomp the guy just for touching you. Like having your own giant, psychotically violent bodyguard.

• This is where you live? Headlights dimmed, his engine snarls. While he doesn’t claim to know much about human dwellings, this building looks like it’s seen better days. Actually, it looks like burning it down would be doing you a favor. Especially when he sees the other residents lingering outside watching you. Absolutely not. Shifting on his tires, he watches you park and get out, lifting a hand in greeting to the group hanging out. But also reaching back to where you keep that pitiful little knife. That unconscious gesture rubbing him the wrong way and driving home that this place isn’t safe for you and you know it.

• A few more race wins and you’ll have enough for a down payment on a better apartment. Letting yourself inside, there’s time to shower and change, then you’re falling into bed. Too aware that your little extra rendezvous with Knockout have cut your sleep time to five hours, then it’s up for your day job. Every penny you can get going toward getting out of here. Because what would that be like? To not be scared all the time, shuddering as the guys hanging out in the front start yelling at each other and you pull a pillow over your head. Eventually someone calls the cops on them as another unit gets off third shift and cranks rock and roll to rattle your windows.

• He knows he’s been gone too long from the Nemesis, that he’s going to be missed, but hates leaving you here in this pit forsaken cesspool you apparently call home. It bothers him enough he stays the night, watching the drama unfolding right outside your door and getting angrier and angrier, because this is unacceptable. And he’s going to have to do something about it.

Previous

[trentisahoeee]

Winning Twice — TAA

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x black!reader

Warning: Fluff

After Liverpool's big win, his girlfriend is less than thrilled, playfully giving him the silent treatment. But he has his own game plan to win her back, proving he's not just a winner on the pitch—he's one in love too.

The final whistle had blown, and Liverpool had secured a hard-fought win against Barcelona. Trent was practically glowing when he got home, reeling from the match and the energy of the crowd. But his enthusiasm faded when he spotted you curled up on the couch, arms crossed, lips pursed, clearly unimpressed.

"Oh, come on," he chuckled, recognizing the look on your face. "You're mad about the game?"

"Mad?" you shot back, barely looking up. "I'm not mad. I just think maybe a little more humbleness would suit you."

Trent let out a low laugh, settling next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "So what, I'm supposed to feel bad about doing my job? Just accept it, babe. Your man's a winner."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, crossing your arms a bit tighter. "A little less bragging would be nice."

He leaned closer, a smirk playing at his lips. "Nah, I don't think so." He squeezed you gently. "You know you love me as a winner."

You turned your face away, biting back a smile. "I can love you and still be unimpressed by all this pride."

Trent laughed, unfazed by your attitude. "Alright, we'll see about that." Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, ignoring your surprised squeal as he carried you toward the bathroom, clearly up to something.

"Trent! Put me down!" you protested, but he just grinned.

"Not until you admit it." He set you down in the bathroom, grinning as he turned on the shower. The steam quickly filled the room, and you watched him suspiciously as he was carefully putting all your braids up in a bun to then protect them with a shower cap.

"Come on," he said, guiding you under the warm spray.

"Let me help you get relaxed so you can forget all about being mad."

Despite your front, you couldn't resist him. You let out a resigned sigh, allowing him to pull you into the water, and before long, his hands were gently massaging your shoulders, working the soap in soothing circles down your arms and back.

His touch tender as he washed your skin. When his hands slid down your arms, his lips brushed close to your ear. "Still gonna keep up the act?" he murmured.

Your tough façade was slipping fast, but you tilted your head, keeping your face turned away. "Maybe."

"I know you're not really mad," he whispered, smiling against your cheek as he kissed it. "But if you think you're slick trying to act like you are, keep doing it."

The warmth of his touch and the water had you melting, and you finally looked at him, no longer able to keep up the act. He chuckled softly, looking at your lips attempting not to smile.

You notice it and shook your head, smiling up at him.

"You're lucky you're a little cute."

He smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "And you're lucky you've got a winner as a boyfriend."

After you both finished in the shower, Trent helped you into a warm towel, draping it around you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you back to the bedroom.

"Taking care of you, like always," he murmured, his gaze softening as he finished with your bonnet and met your eyes.

Just before you drifted off, he leaned over, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. "Night, love," he whispered, his fingers laced with yours.

You nuzzled closer, a content smile on your face.

"Goodnight. But next time, I'm still rooting for Barcelona.'

He chuckled, pulling you closer and resting his chin atop your head. "Can't change who I am. You just gonna have to keep loving a winner."

And with a sott laugh, you fell asleep, completely wrapped up in his warmth.

this is my first time writing 😭😭 hope is not ass, cause the more i read this shit the more i want to hide and disappear

love myself a good socialist club

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/ BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 11: Damian, Damian, Damian, Kayden, Kayden, Kayden

Meanwhile in New York..

Damian hummed to himself, the comforting scent of bagels and cream cheese filling the air as he walked down the quiet city street.

His mind wandered to the relaxing day he had planned with Kayden, but his peaceful thoughts were shattered when something cold and hard pressed against his back.

Before he could react, two hands gripped his shoulders, yanking him violently into a nearby alleyway. The bagel sandwiches flew from his hands, landing with a muffled thud on the grimy pavement as the world around him spun.

"Hey!" Damian managed to shout, his voice hoarse. "What the hell-?"

The figure struck first, a brutal punch to his stomach that left him gasping for air. He stumbled back, but there was no escape.

The figure closed in, swinging a baseball bat with bone-crushing force. The sickening crack of the wood connecting with his ribs sent pain radiating through his body, and before he could recover, another strike hit him square in the head. The world blurred, his vision going dark.

Damian crumpled to the ground, unconscious and vulnerable. The figure loomed over him, a shadow of malice, before stepping away with a smirk.

Inside the loft, Kayden hummed as she picked up a stray shirt off the floor. The cozy space had a peaceful aura, but it felt off. She couldn't quite place it. When the knock came at the door, she thought nothing of it.

"Damian? You forget your keys babe?" she called, heading over to answer.

But as soon as she opened the door, she was hit with the full force of it-the door crashing into her nose, sending her stumbling backward. The sharp pain exploded through her face, and before she could recover, the figure was upon her.

A brutal kick to her ribs stole the breath from her lungs, sending her crashing to the floor in a daze. Kayden gasped for air, but the world around her spun. She barely had time to react before another hard blow to her head rendered her unconscious.

The figure stood over her, its chest rising and falling with a satisfaction that was chilling.

"Too easy," they muttered, pulling out the burner phone from their pocket.

With a quick, practiced motion, the figure dialed a number.

"Man and woman assaulted.” The figure gave the address and hung up without another word, it turned, and walked calmly out of the loft. The door swung shut behind them with an eerie finality.

Stepping into the alleyway, the figure discarded the burner phone into a trash can.

The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.

—

In the dimly lit room, the figure stood over a small table cluttered with documents and photos, a burner phone pressed to their ear. The quiet hum of a nearby streetlamp flickered through the window, casting long shadows across the floor.

“Is it done?” The figure asked, their voice low, almost impatient.

“Yeah. It’s done,” the voice on the other end replied, calm, almost detached. “Damian and Kayden are out of the way.”

The figure grinned, the rush of adrenaline still fresh in their veins. “So, what’s next? What do we do now?”

There was a pause on the other end, before the partner’s voice came back, more amused now. “Now, we wait.”

The figure frowned, pacing in a tight circle. “Wait? We’ve got the momentum now—why can’t we strike again? We’ve got everyone rattled. We can finish this.”

The partner on the other end chuckled darkly. “Because it’s not time. You have to understand, this isn’t a game of quick wins. You can’t rush this. The next move is scheduled. But it’s going to take time. We move in April.”

“Almost two months from now?” The figure’s confusion mixed with frustration. “That’s so far away!”

The partner’s laugh was colder this time. “It’s April. Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait. Everything will fall into place then.”

The figure’s eyes narrowed. “April… Fine. I’ll tell the others.”

“I don’t need to tell you twice. We’ll reconvene when the time comes.” The partner’s voice became firmer, signaling the end of the conversation.

Without another word, the figure ended the call, a sinister grin spreading across their face. They glanced out of the window, staring at the quiet street as if imagining what would unfold next.

It wasn’t the time to act more aggressively, but when April came… everything would change.

—

11:48 AM

The sound of laughter and casual chatter filled the room as Jey, Rhea, Liv, Dominik, Jeyce, and Jaciyah sat around the breakfast table. Despite the lingering tension from recent events, the group did their best to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Jaciyah, ever the curious teenager, turned to Liv. “So, you single or what?”

The table fell silent for a moment, before Jey’s voice cut through. “Jaciyah,” he called out sternly, shaking his head.

Liv, ever the good sport, grinned at the young teen. “On the contrary, you’re sitting next to my boyfriend,” she said, nudging Dominik.

Dominik waved at Jaciyah with a casual smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

Jaciyah leaned back in his chair, a smirk forming on his face. “Damn, you get all the girls, Dom.”

Dominik laughed, looking at Rhea. “Eh, not all of them.”

Rhea chuckled from across the table, giving Dominik a playful look. “Definitely, not all of them,” she echoed, sending Jaciyah a wink.

The atmosphere lightened, the sound of laughter spilling over as Jey tried to mask his concerns. But the moment was short-lived.

Jey’s phone buzzed suddenly, and he glanced down to see his father’s name flashing on the screen. Excusing himself from the table, he stood and stepped into the garage, pulling the door shut behind him for a little more privacy.

“Go ahead, Dad,” Jey said, his voice steady but his brow furrowed in concern.

“Jey,” Solofa’s voice crackled through the line, a hint of worry slipping through his usually calm demeanor. “Jon and Trinity’s cars got caught on fire.”

Jey’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Are they okay?”

“They’re safe now,” Solofa reassured him quickly. “They’re on a plane to my place in Titusville. But I thought you should know. He had called me first and then before he boarded the plane he had called me again and told me it.”

Jey let out a breath of relief, but the unease still lingered in his chest. “Fuck… what is even happening?” he said, the weight of the situation settling over him.

Solofa paused for a moment. “Son… are you safe? You and Rhea, are you around people you can trust?”

Jey looked back toward the house, his gaze resting on the family inside, who were still enjoying breakfast. “We are, Dad. Don’t worry about us. Just make sure Jon and Trinity are safe. That’s all I care about right now.”

Solofa let out a long sigh, one that seemed to carry a lifetime of concern. “Of course, son. You take care of your family. I’ll take care of Jon and Trinity.”

Jey ended the call with a nod, his thoughts racing as he stepped back into the house. It felt like the world was closing in, and there was no escaping what was coming next.

—

Rhea knelt down in the greenhouse, her hands gently touching the freshly planted lilies. It was a small act of normalcy amidst the chaos that had consumed her life over the past weeks. Yet, the quiet was always fleeting.

The least you could do is finish planting the roses.

Rhea didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The voice, low and familiar, had a calming effect on her, even in the midst of everything. She set down her trowel, her fingers brushing against the soft earth, and sighed.

Jey stepped into the small space, his presence filling it with warmth and safety. Without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. His touch was grounding, pulling her back from the edge.

Rhea leaned into him, her eyes closing for a moment, taking solace in the silence that surrounded them. But after a beat, she broke the stillness. “Are we ever going to have some time of normalcy?” she asked, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

Jey’s lips brushed against her neck, his embrace tightening just slightly as if to reassure her. “We will,” he murmured against her skin.

Rhea turned slightly in his arms to face him, her expression filled with concern and a trace of fear. “Jey… I don’t want to feel like we have to live in constant fear.”

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I get it, babe. But I’m not gonna sit here and do nothing while our family’s at risk. I won’t take that chance.”

Rhea’s brow furrowed, her eyes flickering with unease. “What do you mean?”

Jey hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering with determination. “Well, I just signed us up for a safety course, and I’ve filed both of our applications to carry.”

Rhea’s breath caught in her throat, and she took a small step back, her hands shaking slightly. “Jey… I don’t want us to resort to carrying weapons. That’s not us.”

“I get it your concern Rhe’..” Jey said, his voice softening, but his tone still firm. “But you’re carrying our child, babe. I’ve got my sons here. I’m gonna do what I have to do to protect my family. I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Rhea felt the weight of his words settle heavily in her chest. She knew he was right. The world around them was dangerous, unpredictable. And even though it terrified her, she understood that Jey would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

She met his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but found none. Just love. Just unwavering resolve.

“Promise me we won’t lose ourselves in all of this,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Jey kissed her forehead softly, holding her close. “I promise. We’ll fight to stay together, no matter what.” After they broke apart, Rhea tended to the roses.

Jey finally spoke after their moment of solitude. his voice heavy with concern. “Do you think we should hire security?”

Rhea didn’t look up from her task, but her hand stilled as she processed the question. “We can’t afford it,” she replied, her tone calm but resigned.

Jey frowned, frustration building. “Babe… I make damn near seven million a year. I could afford it.”

Rhea set down the soil and turned to face him, meeting his gaze. “And I went from making six million a year to only ninety thousand. We’re adjusting, Jey. We’ve got enough bills piling up as it is—mortgage, utilities, groceries, medical expenses…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I just don’t see how we can stretch our finances any thinner right now.”

He stepped closer to her, his expression hardening. “I get it. I do. But we need someone to help us right now…”

Rhea crossed her arms, her gaze flickering away as she considered it. She understood his worry. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of danger, fear, and unanswered questions. But the reality was, even with all of Jey’s wealth, they couldn’t afford to be reckless.

“I agree,” she finally said, sighing. “But who? We don’t have anyone left we can trust. Even family has been shaken.”

Jey’s eyes darted down to his arms as his fingers brushed against the tattoos that marked his skin—symbols of his heritage, his bloodline. Family. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“I’m stupid,” he muttered to himself.

Rhea gave him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

He grinned, finally seeing the answer. “My family,” he said confidently.

Rhea blinked, a furrow crossing her brow. “Your family?”

Jey nodded, determination in his voice. “Yeah, my family. I gotta make some calls.”

Without another word, he spun on his heel and left the greenhouse, his mind already racing with the plans he needed to set into motion. Rhea watched him go, her heart pounding. She whispered to herself, a touch of disbelief in her voice, “This is the life I chose.”

Inside the house, Jeyce was sitting at his piano on his bedroom, his fingers lightly pressing the keys, a soft melody filling the room. The sound of his phone vibrating broke through the music.

“Demi,” he said with a smile, seeing her name flash on the screen. He quickly picked up the call.

“What’s up, Jeyce?” Demi’s voice was warm, teasing, as usual.

“Not much, just practicing,” Jeyce replied casually, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of the tune. “So, what are you doing later? Want to hang out?”

Demi sighed from the other side of the screen. “My dad and Daya are having dinner with my mom and my bonus dad. I’m not going. I’m just gonna stay in.”

Jeyce leaned forward, his face lighting up with mischief. “Sneak out. Come to my house. Rhea and my dad are entertaining guests, so they’re gonna leave me alone.”

Demi raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “How exactly am I supposed to get in, genius?”

Jeyce grinned, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve got a picket wall that goes right up to my room. You could easily climb over and come in through the window.”

Demi let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You want me to climb up to your window? Seriously?”

Jeyce nodded, his smile widening. “Piece of cake. Plus, I’ve got a lock on my door, so no one will ever know you’re here. It’ll be like a secret mission.”

Demi smiled, clearly entertained by the idea. “You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement. “Fine, I’ll come over. But I’m not climbing that wall in a dress.”

Jeyce laughed. “Deal. I’ll see you tonight then.”

Meanwhile, Jey was in the garage, his phone pressed to his ear. The weight of the situation was heavy on his chest, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that danger was closing in. He needed help—he needed his family.

The phone rang for a few moments before Solofa, his father, picked up.

“Son,” Solofa greeted, his voice calm but carrying the authority that only a father could have.

“Dad I’m sorry I didn’t think of this before but I need your help,” Jey said firmly, pacing as spoke. “I’m not going to wait around for something worse to happen.I need security. And I need family.”

Solofa was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his tone unwavering. “Say no more. What do you need?”

Jey glanced back at the house, where Rhea and the kids were inside, likely making dinner or just trying to hold it all together. “Everything you can spare,” he said. “I don’t care what it takes, Dad. We need to be protected.”

Solofa’s voice was steady. “Consider it done. You take care of your family. I’ll handle the rest.”

Jey hung up the phone and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing his family would have his back—always. He knew his father wouldn’t hesitate to rally the troops and make sure everyone was safe.

As Jey stood in the garage, staring at his Mercedes, the weight of responsibility began to settle over him. He had a family to protect, a family that was his everything. And no matter what it took, he would make sure no one touched them.

—

Liv paced the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was tense, her mind racing. “So, you see why you should implement something or at least warn your talent?” she pressed, her voice laced with urgency.

Hunter, seated across from her and Dominik, leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his temple as if trying to stave off an impending headache.

“I got word about Damian and Kayden,” Hunter began, his tone somber. “One accident, I can overlook. But three incidents in twelve hours? All targeting my top talent?” His piercing gaze flickered between the two of them. “That’s a coordinated attack.”

Dominik nodded, his jaw clenched. “It’s not random.”

Hunter exhaled deeply, his shoulders visibly weighed down. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll work on a game plan to keep everyone safe. In the meantime, I’m pulling you two off the air for two weeks.”

Liv’s eyes widened. “Two weeks? Hunter, we—”

Hunter held up a hand to stop her. “This isn’t a punishment, Liv. You both need time to recover, and honestly, I want you out of the spotlight while we figure out who’s behind this. You took that chair attack from Bianca this past Monday, I could do a work on you being out for these next two Mondays.” He glanced at Liv, his expression softening slightly. “I’ll set you up with a doctor’s appointment on Monday. You’ve been through a lot. I want to make sure you’re okay, physically and mentally.”

Liv hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fine.”

“Are you two safe staying with Jey and Rhea?” Hunter asked, leaning forward.

Dominik pulled out his phone, checking his messages. “Jey texted me earlier. Said some of his family is flying in to stay with us until this blows over.”

Hunter nodded approvingly. “Good. That’ll give you some added protection. In the meantime, if the police want to speak with you, let me know immediately. I’ll have a lawyer ready for both of you.”

Liv and Dominik exchanged a glance before standing. “Thanks, Hunter,” Dominik said, extending a hand.

Hunter shook it firmly. “Stay safe. And keep me posted.”

—

Jey was in his home office, pacing as he held his phone to his ear. His voice was low but intense. “Jeremiah, you got my message?”

“Yeah, cuz,” Jeremiah’s voice came through the speaker, calm yet resolute. “You need us, we’re there. Uncle already sent someone over to watch Jon and Trin’. We got you Uce’.”

“I’m not playing around with this,” Jey said, his tone serious. “These people came after my friends, my family. And now, with Rhea pregnant…” His voice trailed off, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“We get it,” Jeremiah replied. “No worries, Jey. We’ll be in Connecticut by Monday.”

“Good,” Jey said, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “We’ll handle this together.”

Jeremiah chuckled. “Like always, cuz. Family sticks together.”

As Jey ended the call, he glanced out the window, his mind racing. He wasn’t just fighting to protect himself; he was fighting for everyone he loved. And with his family by his side, he knew they had a fighting chance.

—

Rhea stared at her phone screen, the tears in her eyes blurring Damian’s face in his hospital room. She had just heard the devastating news: both Damian and Kayden had been attacked. Her heart ached for them, and for herself. This nightmare wasn’t over; it had only escalated. She wiped her eyes, but the tears kept coming, fueled by helplessness and frustration.

“Are you sure you and Kayden don’t want to come to us?” she asked, her voice cracking with concern. “I want to protect you.”

Damian let out a soft chuckle, as though trying to lighten the mood despite the heavy conversation. “Rhea… mi amor, al final, el diablo viene por todos.”

Rhea smiled through her tears, hearing the familiar warmth in his voice despite the situation. “Te quiero mucho, Damian,” she whispered, her heart heavy with the weight of it all.

Damian waved at the screen, his face fading as the FaceTime call ended.

Rhea dropped her phone onto the table and buried her face in her hands, feeling utterly defeated. How had everything spiraled out of control so fast? The attacks, the fear for her friends and family—everything was too much to carry on her own.

She didn’t hear Dominik approach until she felt a gentle hand on her back. She turned to him, tears still streaming down her face, and without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Dominik,” she gasped between sobs, clinging to him, “did I cause all of this?”

Dominik pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes. His hands rested on her shoulders, and his voice was firm but comforting. “No, Rhea. Being with Jey has changed you. It’s made you stronger, but it’s also made you care more. You’ve grown so much since I met you. You’re not the same person you were before.”

“But…” She hesitated, her voice shaking. “I don’t want Jey to regret me. I just… I can’t bear the thought of him resenting me.”

Dominik softened. “Jey loves you, Rhea. He’ll never regret you. But you need to trust him too. He needs you, just like you need him. You’re both stronger together.”

Unbeknownst to them, Jey and Liv had quietly watched the entire exchange from the hallway. Jey’s eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed in silent thought. His heart ached for Rhea, but a knot twisted in his chest as he stood there, unseen.

After a moment, Jey turned and quietly made his way downstairs. His footsteps were slow, each one heavy with frustration. His mind raced, and his heart pounded in his chest. He needed to get away, to clear his head, to find a way to handle everything—the fear, the guilt, the constant barrage of violence and heartbreak.

He reached the garage, the cold air hitting his face as he stepped inside. The quiet hum of the space was a temporary relief from the chaos in his mind.

Jey approached the punching bag, his eyes hardening as he stared at it. Without hesitation, he stretched his hands, cracking his knuckles, and then let loose. The first punch was powerful, the bag swinging in response, but it wasn’t enough. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness—nothing could be worked out with one blow.

With every punch, memories flashed in his mind, each one more painful than the last. Rhea’s assault at the hands of Matthew. The day she tried to end it all. His own shooting, the blood, the pain, the loss. Julie.. Each image looped in his mind like a broken record, repeating over and over. The rage and pain felt like a living thing inside him, and he poured it all into the bag, each punch louder, more desperate than the last.

He lost track of time, his body moving automatically as the adrenaline surged. Sweat dripped down his face, his shoulder screaming in pain from the exertion, but he kept going. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. The rage was endless.

Eventually, his arms felt like lead, and the punches slowed, finally coming to a stop. Jey’s breathing was erratic, his chest heaving as he stood there, his hands gripping the punching bag for support. His entire body trembled with exhaustion, but the anger still gnawed at him.

As he leaned against the bag, trying to steady his breathing, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned, meeting Liv’s calm gaze. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable but soft.

“You two need each other, no matter what,” she said quietly.

Jey blinked, the exhaustion in his eyes giving way to a flash of understanding. He let out a deep breath, his head dropping slightly.

“I’m just so tired, Liv,” he muttered. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Liv’s expression softened. She had never fully understood the weight that Jey carried, the constant pressure of trying to protect the people he loved while dealing with his own demons.

“I never realized how heavy this all is for you,” she admitted, her voice gentle. “You’ve been carrying so much, Jey. And I know it’s not easy, but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got Rhea, you’ve got your family, and you’ve got us. Me, Dom, Finn, Cody… everyone. We’ll get through this together.”

Jey didn’t say anything for a moment. He just stood there, his eyes distant, lost in thought. He could feel Liv’s words sinking in, but it wasn’t enough to erase the heaviness in his chest. The fight wasn’t over.

But maybe… just maybe… he didn’t have to fight it alone.

As he took another deep breath, he finally nodded. “Thanks, Liv.”

Liv offered him a small, reassuring smile. “Anytime, Jey. Anytime.”

And as the weight of the past few months settled around them both, Jey couldn’t help but wonder if he was strong enough to carry on, if he could keep his promises to Rhea, to protect her, to fight for them both. The battle wasn’t over. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like he might just be ready to face it.

The door to the garage creaked open, and Jey turned to see Rhea standing there with Dominik behind her, her eyes searching his face. She wiped away her tears and without a word, he walked toward her, his hand reaching out. She took it, her fingers intertwining with his, and for a moment, the world outside faded away.

They didn’t have all the answers, and the road ahead was uncertain. But together, they would face whatever came their way. Because at the end of the day, they needed each other more than anything.

Dominik cleared his throat, breaking the tension in the room. “Look, I understand a lot of shit has happened, but… maybe some liquor would help?”

Liv smirked. “And honestly, I’m starving. All this drama works up an appetite.”

Jey let out a soft laugh, his first in hours. “BBQ?”

Rhea scrunched her nose and sniffled. “Do we even have any meat left?”

Jey grinned. “Me and Dom will take care of it.”

Dominik stood, patting Rhea on the shoulder. “Yeah, come on, Rhea. I’ll make your favorite.”

Jey raised a brow. “Wait, what’s her favorite?”

Dominik smirked. “Beef fajitas with my homemade tortillas.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please!”

Jey leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Alright, we’ll be back soon.”

As Jey and Dominik headed to the car, Liv and Rhea made their way back to the living room. Liv plopped onto the couch beside Rhea. “Looks like you’ll have a full house soon,” she said with a smirk.

Rhea exhaled, nodding. “Yeah, it’s a lot, but… it feels right, you know?”

Just then, Jeyce came down the stairs, his face flushed and his steps hurried. He stopped at the bottom, looking around. “Where’s my dad?”

“He and Dom went to grab food for the BBQ,” Rhea said, studying his expression. “You okay?”

Jeyce’s eyes darted away as he mumbled, “Yeah, I’m fine,” before quickly retreating back upstairs.

Liv tilted her head, watching him disappear. “What’s up with the little Uso?”

Rhea sighed, standing up. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

Rhea walked up the stairs, her steps soft against the hardwood. She stopped outside Jeyce’s room, her hand hovering over the door. Just as she was about to knock, she paused, hearing his voice through the thin barrier.

“The plan is off. Rhea and my dad are BBQing,” Jeyce said, his voice tinged with frustration.

Rhea tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. What plan?

A softer voice responded through the speaker. It was a girl, and she sounded surprisingly calm. “It’s okay. We can figure it out.”

“No,” Jeyce sighed, the irritation in his tone melting into something more disappointed. “I wanted to spend time with you again.”

Rhea felt her brows lift in surprise. She leaned in slightly, careful not to make a sound, her heart warmed by the sincerity in his voice.

The girl giggled softly. “Maybe I could show you a better peck on the lips next time…”

Rhea’s eyes widened. Her surprise quickly turned into a grin, her heart swelling with pride and amusement. Jeyce… had his first kiss? She couldn’t help but feel a mixture of pride and protectiveness.

Jeyce’s voice faltered, stammering through his next words. “D-Demi, you’re so cool. I’ll text you later, okay?”

Demi? Rhea’s smile grew. What are the odds? The girl shared her name, which made the situation even more amusing.

The familiar FaceTime end tone sounded, and Rhea decided it was time to intervene. She gently knocked on the door.

“Jeyce? Can I come in?”

There was a sudden shuffle from inside—papers rustling, a drawer slamming shut, and what sounded like a hurried attempt to straighten up. “Uh… yeah! Just a sec!”

After a few more seconds, the door creaked open, revealing a flustered Jeyce. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, his eyes avoiding hers.

“Hey, Rhea,” he mumbled, clearly trying to play it cool. “What’s up?”

Rhea leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms, a playful smirk on her lips. “Not much. Just wanted to check in. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jeyce replied quickly, his voice cracking slightly. Jeyce broke eye contact and he sat on his bed.

Rhea raised a brow, her smirk widening. “So… who’s Demi?”

Jeyce’s eyes widened in panic, and his face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, Rhea took a step into the room and sat next to Jeyce on his bed. “Uh… no one! Just a friend from school.”

Rhea chuckled, leaning in slightly. “A friend who gives you kisses?”

Jeyce groaned loudly, his hands flying up to cover his face. “You heard that?”

“Yep,” Rhea said, laughing softly. She reached out to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Jeyce peeked at her from behind his hands, his embarrassment starting to fade. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “She’s really cool, Rhea. I think she really likes me for who I am..”

Rhea’s heart softened, her playful demeanor giving way to genuine affection. “Sounds like it. And for the record, you’re pretty cool too, kid.”

Jeyce finally managed a small smile, his earlier nerves easing. “Thanks.”

Rhea stood up, placing her hands on her hips. “Now, why don’t you come downstairs and help me set up for the BBQ? Your dad and Dom will be back soon, and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Okay,” Jeyce agreed, his confidence returning.

As they made their way down the stairs, Rhea glanced over at Jeyce, her heart swelling with warmth. Despite all the chaos that had surrounded their lives lately, moments like these reminded her of the joy and love that still existed.

When they reached the living room, Liv looked up from her seat on the couch, her eyes narrowing playfully. “What’s up with the little Uso? He looked like he saw a ghost earlier.”

Rhea exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Jeyce before smirking at Liv. “Oh, nothing. Just some top-secret business, right, Jeyce?”

Jeyce grinned, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “Right.”

Liv rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Well, if it’s as ‘top secret’ as you say, you’d better hope your dad doesn’t find out.”

Jeyce froze for a split second before Rhea laughed, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “Don’t worry, Liv. This one’s between me and Jeyce.”

Liv smirked but didn’t press further, letting the moment pass.

Rhea felt a sense of peace settle over her as she and Jeyce began prepping the outdoor area. Despite everything they had been through, this family was still standing strong.

—

Meanwhile, Hunter sat next to Bruce Prichard, rubbing his temples in frustration. The weight of the recent events—the attacks on his talent, the mounting pressure, and the responsibilities of running the show—was taking a toll on him.

“Is that it with the calls?” Hunter asked, his voice weary, leaning back in his chair.

Bruce, who had been taking diligent notes on his tablet, nodded. “I believe we got them all.” His eyes met Hunter’s. “Everyone’s been informed, at least the important ones. The mandatory safety protocols are in place—three people traveling together, basic awareness checks.” He sighed.

Hunter ran a hand through his hair, staring at the papers spread across the table. The follow-up emails were still buzzing in the background, the reminder of the chaos weighing heavily. “Good, good,” Hunter muttered. “And what about the detectives in Orlando and Pensacola? Have they given us anything solid?”

Bruce’s eyes darkened slightly, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. “Yes, they’re now working with Stamford PD and NYPD at this point. They’re all coordinating, but… they can’t tell us anything definitive just yet.” He leaned in a bit closer. “They’ve got a few leads, but they’re being tight-lipped. Still, it’s better than nothing.”

Hunter frowned, feeling the sense of helplessness creep in. He took a deep breath, trying to focus. “Has it been spreading any further? Any other incidents?”

Bruce shook his head. “Not as of now, thankfully. But with everything happening in such a short span, it feels like it’s only a matter of time. We’ve got to be ready for anything.”

Hunter sighed, feeling the weight of the uncertainty hanging in the air. He shifted in his chair, his mind working over the logistics, the details. “Did you adjust the storylines because of the superstars being out?”

Bruce looked down at his tablet and started scrolling. “Yes I’ve already made the adjustments. The biggest change right now is the lack of availability of some of our top stars. I’ve had to shift some angles, but we’ve got plans in motion. It’s not ideal, but we’ll manage.”

Hunter nodded, absorbing Bruce’s words. The show must go on, no matter how many obstacles were in the way. “Do we have a backup plan for Elimination Chamber?” he asked. “It’s coming up, and we can’t afford any more hiccups.”

Bruce gave a small, confident smile. “We do. It’s tight, but we’ve got a plan B in place. If we need to adjust the entire card, we’ll be ready.”

Hunter rubbed his temples again, feeling the mounting pressure. “Good. We can’t afford to lose any more ground, not with everything that’s at stake. Get the talent ready, and keep me in the loop if anything changes.” His tone softened slightly. “And, Bruce? Let’s keep this between us for now. We don’t need corporate panicking. The last thing we need is paranoia spreading like wildfire.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “Of course, Hunter. We’ll keep it tight.”

Hunter exhaled, trying to shake off the stress that was quickly building again. “Alright. Let’s focus on getting this show on the road. We’ve got too many people relying on us.”

As Hunter and Bruce continued to strategize, the hum of the office around them faded as they both plunged deeper into their work, their minds focused entirely on the task ahead. But in the back of both their minds, the chilling thought remained: the person behind these attacks was still out there. And they couldn’t afford to let their guard down—not for a second.

They reviewed notes and ran through the adjustments; but Hunter couldn’t shake the unease in his gut. No matter what happened, he would have to keep everyone safe—and make sure the show, and his talent, were protected.

—

Jeyce and Jaciyah sat comfortably in the living room, their eyes glued to the TV screen as they went back and forth in a heated Call of Duty match. The sounds of controllers clicking and their competitive banter filled the air, while Liv and Rhea worked in the kitchen, preparing sides for the BBQ. The kitchen smelled like fresh vegetables, sizzling sauces, and spices—everything coming together for a meal that would bring some sense of normalcy to a chaotic time.

Outside, Dom and Jey were by the pit, standing next to the fire, with the faint crackling of the wood filling the background. Dom had pulled out his phone, ready to put Jey onto some new music, the playlist blasting to life as the cool evening air surrounded them.

“Hey I told Hunter at the meeting about contacting Orlando..” Dominik said looking up from his phone.

“Thank you for that.. did he say anything else?” Jey asked, his curiosity piquing.

“Well we all have to travel in threes.. me and Liv are off camera for two weeks… so can we continue to use your spare guest room for the time being?” Dom asked.

“Anytime..” Jey said patting Dom’s back.

“Great… now let me put you on some new rap,” Dom said with a grin as he continued scrolling through his playlist. He raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Jey as he found the perfect track.

Jey rolled his eyes and raised his hand, “Ay man, don’t hate on my playlist,” he teased.

Dom laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not hating, just expanding your horizons.”

With a flourish, Dom hit play, and Cowboy Killer by That Mexican OT blared through the stereo. The rhythm hit hard, the Spanish beats blending effortlessly with the rap flow, and the bass seemed to sync with the crackling of the pit.

Jey’s head immediately started to bob along with the beat. He took in the difference in the music, feeling the way the melody carried itself. “Dude is actually cold,” Jey admitted with a grin, turning to Dom.

“Right?!” Dom said, laughing. “This track gets me hyped. I listen to it to get into my Dirty Dom persona,” he added, his voice dripping with amusement.

Jey raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Dirty Dom, huh? That persona really did work for you, didn’t it?”

Dom smirked, leaning against the table next to the pit. “Hell yeah, it did. You’ve seen the heat I keep getting, man. Best part of my career so far.”

Jey laughed and shook his head. “Man, you’re crazy.”

After the song ended, Jey swiped his phone and started scrolling through his own playlist, looking for the perfect track. He was in the mood to vibe, but also wanted to get into the mindset of his old Right Hand Man gimmick. He smirked as he found the song, his thumb hovering over the play button.

“You want to hear what I would listen to, to get into my Right Hand Man gimmick?” Jey asked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Dom’s eyebrows shot up. “Hell yeah,” he said eagerly. “That was my favorite gimmick of yours, bro. The way you’d crash out every day, get into people’s faces—man, that was gold.”

Jey smirked, feeling the rush of memories flood back. He hit play, and the unmistakable opening beat of Black Skinhead by Kanye West blasted from the speakers. The hard, gritty rhythm filled the air, and as soon as the bass dropped, Jey’s head started to bob, his eyes closed for a moment as he felt the familiar energy of the song.

“Man, this track use to always get me in that zone,” Jey said, turning to Dom with a grin. “You know, back when I’d be standing by Roman’s side, just being that damn presence.”

Dom watched Jey closely, taking in the change in his demeanor. He could tell the Right Hand Man persona still had its hold on him, even if it was a chapter long passed. “That’s exactly it, bro,” Dom said, his voice serious for a moment. “That energy, that intensity—you were unstoppable.”

Jey nodded, feeling the beat pulse through him as the song continued. He let the rhythm take him back to those days when he was fiercely loyal to Roman, his confidence high and his focus sharp.

The song ended, and the two men stood there in silence for a moment, reflecting on their respective journeys. As Rich Flex by Drake play, they were both at a crossroads, dealing with so much personal and professional turmoil, but in that moment, the music and the shared history between them brought a sense of clarity.

Dom broke the silence, cracking a smile. “Man, I swear you still have that energy in you. You ever miss it?”

Jey shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. I’ve got my own vibe now with Main Event. And besides, I’m always gonna be Roman’s right hand, but it’s different now.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dom said, nodding. “It’s crazy how things change. But you know, you still got that fire. You just gotta tap into it when you need it.”

Jey chuckled and took a swig from his drink, feeling the weight of Dom’s words. “Maybe. But right now, I’m good. Just taking it one step at a time.”

“That’s all you can do,” Dom agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “We got this.”

The two of them stood there for a few more moments, watching the fire flicker as the music continued. Inside, Rhea and Liv continued to prep the meal, the warmth of the family gathering spreading through the house. Jeyce and Jaciyah were still battling it out in the living room, with their voices rising in playful arguments. Even with everything that had happened in recent weeks, this was the peace they needed.

As the music continued to pulse in the background, Liv and Rhea stepped outside, their laughter filling the evening air. Rhea handed Jey his beer and the bowl of seasoned meat for the grill, and without a second thought, she kissed him gently on the lips. Jey took the beer with a grin and sipped it, savoring the coolness that met his lips, but the kiss lingered in his mind long after.

Liv handed Dominik a beer too, but he, ever the playful one, puckered his lips toward her with a mischievous grin.

Liv shot him a look and shook her head with a laugh. “Leave the PDA to those two,” she teased, glancing at Rhea and Jey.

Rhea let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head at Liv’s comment but still smiling as she caught Jey’s gaze, knowing there was no shortage of affection in their bond. They shared a connection that was deeper than just physical attraction—despite all the turmoil, their love was something that brought them peace when everything else felt chaotic.

Liv, who had been quietly tapping her foot to the music, paused. She looked at the men by the grill, then turned back to Rhea. “Oh hell no,” she said, dramatically raising her hand as if to stop the music. “I need a music change. Me and Rhea need a different pace.”

Dom looked at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly interested. “What do you suggest?” he asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Liv scrolled through her playlists on her phone, her expression one of focus. After a brief moment, she pressed play on WHATCHU KNO ABOUT ME by Glorilla and Sexyy Red. The bass hit hard, and the lyrics were fast-paced and full of energy.

Jey rolled his eyes as the beat dropped, but there was a playful smile on his face. “This ain’t really my thing,” he said, shaking his head but clearly amused.

Liv ignored his comment and grabbed Rhea by the hand, pulling her into a goofy, fun dance. They swayed, laughed, and completely let go, spinning around in the yard. It was a moment of pure fun—no worries, no stress, just the two women living in the moment.

The song ended, and as if on cue, the next track came on: What’s My Name by Drake and Rihanna. The soft intro played, and Rhea, still full of energy, glanced over at Jey with a playful smile. Without missing a beat, she began to sing the lyrics to him, her voice smooth and teasing as she sang, “Hey, boy, I really wanna see if you can go downtown with a girl like me…”

Jey watched her, captivated, as she moved toward him, pulling him into a brief but sensual dance. Her hips swayed as the beat flowed through her, and she took his hand, guiding him with ease as the lyrics continued: “Hey, boy, I really wanna be with ya, ’Cause ya just my type, ooh na na na na…”

Jey smiled, the warmth in his chest growing as he pulled her closer. Despite everything that had happened—everything that weighed heavy on both of them—the music always had a way of bringing them back to each other. It was like a secret language they shared, something that only the two of them understood, a connection that cut through the noise of the world around them.

Rhea leaned in slightly, her lips brushing his ear as she sang the line softly. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, seeing the familiar spark there that always reminded her why she loved him so much. The chaos, the struggles, the pain—it all felt a little lighter in this moment. And as they danced together, Rhea felt a quiet sense of peace settle over her.

Jey smiled, his hands resting gently on her waist. “You know, I always said music was your thing,” he said softly. “But it’s like… it’s our thing now.”

Rhea’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice soft. “It’s our thing.”

The song played on, but the world seemed to slow down as the two of them shared this simple, quiet moment of connection. It was like everything else faded away—the weight of everything they’d endured—and in this fleeting moment, it was just the two of them. And that was all they needed.

Author’s Note: this chapter takes place in a whole day. February 1st, 2025.

[firequeenofficial]

Grabbing this with both hands and running with it. (Wild Life spoilers to follow)

Scar never left Secret Life. All the other winners died at the end of their series: Grian jumped, Scott got Watchered, Pearl got exploded, Martyn ran out of time, Cleo got creepered. All died and were taken out. But not Scar.

No, Scar was left behind. Why might that be? What possible reasons might the Watchers havre of punishing Scar like this? What would cause them to keep the man Grian would choose over all others trapped like this? Are they really punishing Scar? Or is it perhaps someone else that they're mad at? Someone who's felt less and less Watcher-y as the seasons went on. Someone who's been more human each season. Someone who had far less involvement in Secret Life's mechanics than in the other seasons.

Maybe Grian tried to leave the Watchers. Maybe he tried to defy them. Maybe he was slowly, subtly, shedding the Watcher part of himself like an old skin, hoping they wouldn't notice. But they did.

They noticed, all right. But they couldn't punish Grian directly. No, that wasn't nearly cruel enough. They had to target the ones he loves, instead.

So on top of putting the Secret Keeper in Secret Life to keep an eye on Grian and the others, they also turned the whole server against Scar. They gave him tasks that make him the villain, that ruin his relationships and leave him alone and scared. And they make sure he wins and that he stays alone and scared. No way out, no way for anyone else to get in. No visitors but the occasional Watcher who comes to snack on his despair and make sure he's still there.

And they make sure Grian knows. They make sure he knows what's happening, and that it's his fault. If he'd just complied, if he'd just stuck to the plan, if he'd just embraced this intrinsic part of him, this never would have happened. Scar would be free. And then they tell him the next part: they would keep trapping the people Grian loves until he has no one left, or until he rejoins them fully.

It's no choice at all, really. Because Grian is far too human, and far too attached to his friends. He can't risk anything more happening to them. He can't lose any more of them.

After a brief negotiation, Grian concedes.

He spends a year designing the next game, determined to get it right, to prove to the Watchers that he's one of them, that he's not holding back. It's intricate, and fragile, and detailed, and awful, but he can't stop. He can't let the Watchers think he's trying to protect his friends from them, or from himself.

When they get antsy, he releases a small game, one that doesn't take any effort, one that doesn't last long. He's the first to die.

Finally, the game is ready. The Watchers are eager and curious: He's been working on it for a full year, and dropping hints for months now. The game starts, and Grian's friends can tell he's different. Mumbo hears something *other* in his giggles. Jimmy notices a gleam of purple in his eyes. Scar can't help but feel he's being especially distant and hostile towards him. None of them comment on it.

The first wildcard hits, and Etho is taken aback by how blatantly Grian mentions that he knows what it is, by how desperate Grian seems to be for Etho to figure out what it is and how it works. He's different, Etho thinks, and spots the barely visible eyes surrounding Grian. He says nothing.

People start dying, and it's all Grian can do to contain his gleeful giggles, the fear and confusion fueling him. By the time session 3 rolls around, his friends have given him so much power simply by panicking that the snails are almost no effort at all.

And this is when the deal he struck with the Watchers after Secret Life comes into action. He'd had only one condition - or at least, only one he could get them to agree to: the people he loves most couldn't win. They couldn't even come close. Pearl had been dropping steadily, but session 3 was what made all the difference. Jimmy, Scar and Mumbo started losing lives so fast that Grian worried the Watchers were taking them out right then and there (Jimmy was never a worry in terms of winning: the Watchers were furious at him for breaking free from the Canary Curse in Secret Life, and would never let it happen again). Pearl died plenty more too, ensuring her protection. When Mumbo asked for a life, he refused. That would only raise the danger.

The one people Grian was worried about were Gem and Joel. He'd known, from the moment they teamed, that it would be an issue. Alone, both were formidable opponents and more-than-competent survivors. Together, they'd be unstoppable. He had a sneaking suspicion Joel would start taking himself out soon, but Gem... she simply wouldn't die. When the snails didn't get either of them, Grian set the reds and yellows on them. Using underhanded methods Grian refused to admit he was proud of, Jimmy managed to take Joel out, but not one of them managed to get Gem.

He needed her to die. He needed her to stay away from the Watchers' grip, to stay safe. He needed her gone. He didn't care what he had to do, what he had to sacrifice. Fully under the Watchers' influence, he didn't care what happened to him; they were his games, these were his pawns. Nothing could touch him, and when they did, he saw it coming. All he could think about was getting Gem and Joel out of his series. But no matter what he or anyone else tried, Gem was still alive.

He had to be sneaky about this. He had to put her at the ultimate disadvantage.

So he gathered Mumbo and Skizz together in the open and, under the guise of trying to get them an extra life, he explained a plan to him. He didn't know if it would work, and he didn't particularly care. That wasn't his real plan, anyway. His real plan involved the others all around him. The reds and yellows that weren't his teammates, that were just as hungry for death as he was. Without saying a word to them, he got almost the entire server interested.

They all went to Gem and Joel's base. Surely, with so many, she couldn't possibly get away.

And yet, again and again, the attempts on Gem's life failed. Mumbo died. Skizz lost a valuable weapon. And still, Gem wouldn't die.

Until she did.

It was Martyn, Martyn of all people, who managed it. Technically, the kill went to Ren, but it was Martyn who masterminded it, who set it up.

And yet, it was Gem who decided she would die now. Gem died, not because the others were good enough, but because they weren't, and she felt bad for them. She was on the track to winning, Grian's deal notwithstanding, and she felt bad about it.

And Grian hated it. Because it wasn't supposed to go like this. She was supposed to be safe! She was supposed to be left alone! And yet, the Watchers were protecting her, carrying her to victory in the complete opposite way they carried Scar.

And there was nothing he could do. He couldn't risk defying the Watchers again, and he couldn't risk warning her or Joel or anyone else. The only person who had an inkling of what was happening was Martyn, who knew almost as much about the Watchers as Grian himself did. But the Watchers hated Martyn: Grian couldn't be seen being friendly with him!

Grian returned to his base with Mumbo and Skizz, hating the way the day had gone, even though every single person had died at least once by now. The only purely good thing that had happened was Jimmy and Scar giving him an excuse to take them out of the game as soon as possible, and he was itching to take that excuse. If he couldn't protect Gem and Joel, he would do what it took and sacrifice what he needed to protect Jimmy and Scar. Pearl would sort herself out, he was sure of that.

His friends would be safe. He didn't know what he'd do otherwise.

Did grian feel more watcher-like this season to anyone else? Sure he controls what the wildcards are and all that... but did you notice him being more overconfident.

Both his deaths this session was due to him being careless... like he wouldn't be killed. Like he feels invulnerable. (Who else is popularly portrayed as arrogant? The watchers!)

And the canary's curse. He told jimmy he would make sure it comes true. ( Who made the canary's curse? The watchers!)

I feel like the watchers have regained some influence on him. Something gave the watchers more influence on him this season... maybe something in the last life series. Who won the last life series? Scar...

[siremasterlawrence]

The Glorious Reintroduction Of Santa Clause

My plan is pretty sound as I lay out milk and cookies for the fool like if I am a damn kid but I do what I must to trap good old saintNick and well he fell of hook like and sinker as the trap goes off.He snuck through my home with a useful like sweat to him as he takes a step at a time he creeps to my tree as the signal goes off to let me know as the alarm blares loudly to set the trap.The floor is triggered as the planned blast in array of colors as the lights are turn on automatically they are thrown at him landing on his feet he steps on to it as if secretly wraps on to his feet yanking the cord. He trips instinctively on to the freshly cleaned carpet as it tightens around his body and the carpet rolls up covering him up in place and he is locked in place prep for me.

I shed the bed covers off of my body in the midst of freezing December weather but I did not care in excitement, I grab my robe before descending down the staircase to see it for my eyes.The moron is all snuggled into a perfect ass Christmas present for me as I step off of the last one walking to my poor little merry kind of prisoner and well way say I have plans on plans. Struggling to as he manages to land back on his feet he stares me down as I tower over him while my hands cup under his chin and lift him upward to face as me as his anger rages. I smirk a bit lifting my hand up slapping my hand on his as the tears I can see him raging with roar red rouge covering his face and I enjoy all of my power.

“You need to let me go, I have a job to finish in twelve hours.”

“You will never be let go until I say so”

“What do you want kid?”

“I am full grown man!”

“Yeah! I explain very soon”

“You loved those concoctions I left for you “

“It is absolutely delicious! I can’t stop thinking about.”

“You are fixated “

“Stop it ! STOP!”

“Oh Santa baby”

“I hate that song! What are you planning?”

“This delightful concoctions are mind altering products.”

“You little shit “

“Uhh! You don’t want to be on the naughty list. Right nick?”

“You arrogant…ugh…what can I do for you?”

“Old Saint Nick! Santa Clause! Mrs Clause!”

“Quit that! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I am about to assume control.”

“Reindeer, North Pole, Sled, Red”

“You cannot possible keep my captured like this forever.”

“Why is that ?”

“You have to set me free”

“Oh poor baby!”

“ You asshole!”

“Diagnosis the vessel “

“Oh fuck! I can’t function”

“Shut down immediately “

“Vessel is a open book”

“Perfection! What happen to his jolly old fat ass?”

“It’s his first run”

“Geez! A newbie “

“At least he is in shape “

“Commence the Santa project”

“Processing begins “

“The Christmas lights begin to blink”

“Blinking upward and downward “

“Blinding you on impact “

“You are easily ensnared “

“Nnnnoooooo”

“You can’t fight it, surrender to my will and be mine.”

“You can feel it deep in to your soul”

“Your life flies by your eyes “

“You belong to me”

“You are a man in charge with a heart gold no longer”

“In fact you are the total opposite a hardcore submissive.”

“You love me, live for me, and submit to me.”

“I am your man, your heart, and your bro “

“Your everything and you swear to me”

“Now be a good boi as the lights glow everywhere”

“Yes Master”

“Dear Santa Clause”

“What is your wish my love ?”

“The downfall of the North Pole?”

“As you command so be it”

“Your powers”

“All you have to do is fuck me”

“Then what ?”

“My powers are yours anyway “

“Oh I see!”

“What Master Lawrence?”

“You are desire me to fuck you period “

“Yes Master”

“It’s a win win”

“I love you Master”

“Strip off your clothes for me”

“Stare in to my eyes “

“Learn your place”

“Sir Yes Master Lawrence Sir”

“Kneel for me “

“Make out with me”

“All you have to do is make a wish Master”

“I wish to have all of your powers”

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath “

“Our souls are connected now”

“We share everything “

“However! I am at your disposal “

“Under your thrall “

“Instructed by your voice”

“Living by your whims “

“What do you see ?”

“A wondrous place beyond my imagination “

“It’s the Santa Verse”

“Every Santa is here “

“We are your slaves now “

“No going back now “

“Kiss me and you will have it all “

“With pleasure “

“Mmmmmm”

“Fuck! You own me”

“Do I?”

“Bro!”

“Go on”

“I can’t even think”

“My brain…is…hahahaha “

“Fried?”

“Yeah! I guess “

“Dummy Clause”

“Hot!”

“You would think so?”

“Babe come on “

“I know “

“Yeah bro”

“What so tonight anyway?”

“Christmas”

“Oh shit! Help me bro! I am so stupid “

“Obviously bro! Don’t worry”

“Oh! I fucked up”

“Hell yeah! I’ll fix it for you “

The end

[apricitae-world]

HIS VOICE IS SO SOFT IN "RADIANT BRILLIANCE" THAT MAN IS SMITTEN

I just think it's so interesting how MC (and everyone in the Association at Linkon, apparently) think Sylus always wins and is the type of person to have a backup plan to his backup plan

When in reality he just keeps trying and improving until he succeeds. Really brings more depth to his character and what he had to do to reach the top.

Also "I don't like repetitive stories"?? BECAUSE OF HIS PAST WITH MC? I'M NOT OKAY SOMEONE HOLD ME

[senseandaccountability]

I know he gets overshadowed by the other guys in this game as far as marketing and fan service and tropes go, but Davrin is A+. Best male romance in fucking forever, so glad he was the first romance path I traveled. 10/10 would do it again. (Will do it again.) He gives insightful, solid commentary on things, has good banter, some believable issues and a lot of shit together. His romance is fun and hot and he flirts well, which is a treasure indeed. He had such sexy vibes with my first Rook that I had to make another short, fat elf for him to lust after. As a mother, I will also say that in the battle for best dad, he wins, hands down. He's nurturing and mature and he questions old ideals. Davrin, the man that you are.

It really got to me that he reminds Rook several times during the final battles that hey, we've got a future to plan. Because they do. The road less traveled led them there, after all. In my headcanon and probably fic, Davrin and Rook populate a recovering Arlathan forest with griffons, stray cats and orphans, help the elves rebuild and settle all over the fucking place and offer hope for the future and from the Fade, Lavellan and Solas watch over them because they’re the People now. 

[sleepisaweakness]

Alright okay Guys hear me out and picture this.also, apologies for the trash writing. I make many mistakes 😭🥲 but I tried

Buck is heartbroken and angry because the man he is falling in love with..the man he is in love with him just left him ....he got left again and his best friend ...well he can't help this time he also thought buck was being a little impulsive with asking Tommy to move in when he owns a house and it being only 6 months..he isn't letting Buck just be sad he is telling him that while impulsive if he really loves him and he really is the one to not let Tommy go .....to fight for him....he should go to him and fix this because Eddie thinks they are it for each other.......But buck Doesn't want to FIGHT why should it be him who is fighting for them he didn't break up with Tommy, NO Tommy left him and It HURTS

Buck decides to cope in a way that he never really does because he isn't the runner, at least not anymore since moving to L.A. and being at the 118, but while he has changed and become a better version of himself, he will always have the Buckley genes, and sometimes they win. So Buck decides to run ..well, at least metaphorically he runs from the sadness that he has felt for the last week since the breakup because it won't go away and he doesn't know why ....Abby, Ali , and Taylor the sadness only last 3 days at the most before he had enough and coped but he can't cope right now and Nothing Bobby, Eddie, Hen or Chim say will help they all feel worried for him and sad but they also keep telling him to reach out ....But no ,why should he not even Maddie helps he won't talk to her She is Pregnant again ...and he doesn't want to stress her ....he is scared to he left again ....so he runs from feeling anything about Tommy and that means to forget him.

Buck Grabs a Black Garbage Bag and cleans his apartment. Anything Tommy left goes in the bag. His charger, his clothes from when he slept over , his extra toothbrush, the shampoo he keeps there for after shifts or morning afters all their pictures ...the memories ..Tommy's old 118 hoodie that buck stole because it smelled like Tommy and he loved having Kinard spelled on the Back ...God. He gets rid of Tommy special coffee and throws in even the plants Tommy thought Buck would love since Flowers die too quickly he even throws in the Lakers Tickets because he hates basketball and only watched it for Tommy and once he thinks he has everything in that bag he ties it and goes to his door Grabs his keys and the spare for Tommy's house and leaves .......He drives to Tommy's because while his plan is to forget he doesn't want to not yet so he is secretly hoping to see him one last time, to hear his voice to ...to just Talk because he ignored the 5 calls buck made that night...He drives for 40 minutes to Tommy's home and he knows Tommy is off shit they had Synced Calanders for the last two month's until last week when he stopped synching ..He drives and when he gets there he Sits in his car in Tommy's driveway next to his Truck and sees the TV on ....and the small lamp on the side when it suddenly turns off he gets out Grabs the bag and walks to the door and knocks ...waits...and knocks he sees the light on the side turn off and hears something from the other side So after 15 minutes he Bangs on the Door and Yells because the Hope is Gone , the Sadness was pushed to the side because Fuck Tommy isn't even brave enough to open the door so all that left is anger ....Finally Tommy opens it and he looks Terrible he has has on a old t shirt with stains and red eyes that look like he hasn't slept but ...buck is already running so he pretends he doesn't see it ..he holds the bag out for Tommy but he won't grab it and Buck is losing his patience when Tommy starts to apologize that he doesn't have Bucks stuff he hasn't had time to put it together for him ..but he can get him his key first ..and he will give his things to him after his shift tommorw he turns around to walk to his coffee table to grab the keys only to freeze when Buck says not to bother he changed the Locks and it's unnecessary.. Tommy tries to lighten the mood pretend it all okay tries to thank him for bringing his things jokes that buck knows he has extras here and that He hopes his hoodie is in the bag since it's his favorite but its okay of he keep it cause its Evans favorite too ...but buck has already started to run.. so he doesn't feel anything at the moment, and he doesn't want to talk ..not anymore so he grabs the bag he brought turns without saying to anything and walks to the garbage bin Tommy keeps by his garage throws it in then proceeds walks to his Jeep and only turns to the Tommy ..who looks confused, guarded,...scared ? It doesn't matter he tells him that he doesn't need any off his stuff he left to just throw them out, and it isn't anything that he can't replace ... he gets in the jeep and leaves pretending that he didn't see Tommy staring blankly at his bin with something in this eyes pain...? Tommy hurt HIM, left HIM with the pain ....with the memories ,he pretends not to see tommy walk to the bin in the review mirror.....

Back in the Bare looking apartment he has three misses calls from Tommy he doesn't bother to call back just deletes them ignores the messages just deletes them and blocks his number goes on his socials removing Tommy from everything even all their pictures , removes months pictures that show a hint on tommy even just a hand ....erased him . Buck seems normal "happy" even everyone is concerned buck isnt acting like himself but if anyone even tries to talk about Tommy or his coping he turns around and just walks away acts as if he didn't hear anything...he isn't be reckless or sleeping around he isn't even going to hard as the gym no buck is more Smiling and joking around he is making safe choices during work not even a hint of him toeing the line it's like everything that made buck well buck was gone they haven't even heard new facts not a peep of current fixations and no one knows what to do with that of they try to talk to Buck he gets anger bursts explosive in a way because "wtf are you complaining about that I'm too normal like wtf I can't win" so life keeps moving then it's stops because after Four months Buck dissappears leaving a empty apartment and a note

" Before L.A. .. before the 118, I think I had a home ...this isn't goodbye .this is i will see you soon. I have to find what I'm missing. I'm sorry"

....Buck is 4 months pregnant, so he does what the Buckley do best he runs. Buck had to run its all he knows and what through his mind because he has been dying on the inside his hormones his heart they don't let him breathe he hates Tommy for leaving him he thought about telling Tommy 3 months ago only 2 weeks after throwing his stuff in the Trash but just the thought made him sick and angry ...scared. really his hormonal distress wont let him make a decision he has fought for 3 months to not leave earlier to try to get better enough to tell Tommy the truth but...he isn't coping and he is scared and feels alone this isn't something the 118 ,or Maddie can help him Fix because like Margaret Buckley ...like Philip Buckly his parents (men can also develop ppd) he is struggling with PPD theirs was untreated after his birth..after Daniel they ran their attempte at therapy ended once learning this unfortunately like them maddie struggled with PPD and ran to protect jee .the Buckleys ..he is scared because he didn't even know he could have kids after losing Jamie..his ...his baby boy who was a still born due to trauma of being hit by a drunk driver caused Evan (yes Evan I switched it) to lose his beautiful baby boy and Fiance....The trauma of losing his loves while having already been struggling with the pregnancy it was all too much for His brain to handle that it just shut off repressing those memories to protect Evan the extent of his injures didn't help requiring him to be induced into a medical coma for his body to heal and once he awoke he forgot about his loves, they were bruried so deep that his brain created false memories the loss was too much the family they made they couldn't tell him the truth scared they would lose him permanently if they tried to force those memories they played the part Evan unknowingly gavd them even if was hard. Caleb was ..his first love and Fiance..no one compared to him none of the girls before him mattered he was everything to evan he was excited for the life they were going to build with there sweet baby boy he hates that he forgot him he even forgot he was bisexual until Tommy and he didn't know why ...Tommy unintentionaly triggered something in buck and being in love with another man after remembering felt wrong "I'm your first but not your last " those words another trigger " my first and always" keeps plays in his head like a broken record they were each other first loves, first boyfriend, they were always each others first choice and priority and their growing family would have also been their "first and always" once again tommy helped evan discover something about himself .....for 3 months Buck had been in limbo with memories that have been killing him that he ran. L.A scares him ..to much has happened leaving pain and trauma he felt misplaced so he ran to find to look for what was home again ....run to find answers for more missing memories runz from the pain of losing Tommy from loving him more runs to protect him self and his baby, runs to protect everyone if Evan doesn't make it this time....male pregnancy's are high risk most men who survive their 1st pregnancy rarely get pregant again and even rarer ...survive ......so he runs because not having this baby isn't a option....he runs to a place he thinks was once called home where he thinks ....he once felt happy being he runs home for answers leaving everything he built his new home and the family he made there he leaves the people who fall into shambles when they find there Sun gone .

Man Pulls a A Meredith guys

Tommy has been in hell for the last 4 months, and he regretted leaving Evan the moment he stepped out but was too much of a coward to turn back and when Evan brought his thing only to throw them away ...it broke him more once he saw all the memories inside in a garbage bag ...it's why he couldn't grab it he was too scared to see inside everything he threw away he never once fought for anyone since ending things with Abby a woman he loved and cared about but never in that way ....He has looked for something real only to be disappointed on never being someone's last choice..he let it happen and slowly broke because he never fights why should he ..until Evan.....for a minute he decided to fight only to be blocked and erased from Evans life....he left first this time ....and he lost someone who felt like forever and he didn't even get to fight because he was too late but after 4 months ......He can't move on so he decides to for once to actually fight for himself and for someone for Evan "Buck" Buckley his literal sun ...but when he when he finds that man who changed his whole world in 6 months is gone ...well he decides to chase ....something in his soul is telling him so go beyond the limits to find him or he will regret it so he goes to find him......he decides to take their friend Steve for the ride (eddie guys it's eddie )

https://youtu.be/3Wq6AHvesYg?si=r-2R4nElSnXljmSy

ALMOST FORGOT THIS IS what TRIGGERED MY IDEA WHILE AT WORK

Imagining a pregnant buck singing in a cafe to two adorable kids after a disaster (he adopts them ) to comfort them since he can't do much else to help but calm the kids being 7 months pregnant and while he sings while rubbing his belly and it s song Tommy would sing to him when he had nightmares from all his disaster trauma and one that.. plot twist his late Fiance sang to him and their baby and the song is what really started to trigger Bucks feelings and memories

And that's all I got this terribly written and most likely filled with so many mistakes. Story idea someone fix it and write for me please I'll pay in the only penny I have to my name 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Not my Song and not my video all Right belong to Travis Atero from his YouTube isn't his voice great

[anactualcaseofthetruth]

I just know in a fight down the line Carlos is going to get bitchy and be like so A $350,000 car is an okay gift but buying a loft to make a home in with my soulmate is too much??? Let's talk about that!!

And TK is going to be So Done because he has no rebuttal. Man's signed that title ASAP and probably already called paint shops in the area to get estimates for how much it would cost to make it red.

He had Plans for the car that included seducing (read: tricking) his car snob husband into giving him bj while in the driver's seat and negotiating Camaro rights (because in my personal canon Carlos doesn't let just anyone drive his car).

Yeah... Carlos would win that argument

[sunfyrisms]

wait some more info below because i’m insane about him!

his original lore was that he was revived by primus to act as cybertron’s future shield. what better candidate than a dead child whose creators are leaders of the opposing war that inevitably destroys the planet. i’m very attached to this idea but i’m not sure if it makes sense in canon. as i’ve mentioned in different a different post, i’m very obsessed with primus vs unicron via light vs darkness / creation vs destruction. i suppose this idea would make most sense if unicron did the same thing! sirius acts as the physical embodiment of primus’ will, so i imagine for a long time, these two mechs would just be fucking fighting because that’s exactly what primus and unicron literally did forever until the primes were created. i honestly got this general idea because i was really fascinated with megatron’s abilities in the movie after he was revived by unicron!

he is 29 feet tall. again, he was supposed to be taller (as tall as megatron), but that premature birth fucked with his frame.

his man is predaking. some canon divergence, obviously, but one of my biggest gripes with transformers: prime is that the cons are automatically evil and that the bots are automatically good. there isn’t all that much nuance from what i remember! all i know is that everyone mistreats the vehicons. so in this! sirius learns of megatron’s plans to essentially have the autobots do his dirty work and kill the predacons. he and predaking save them prior to wheeljack’s explosion and immediately dip. a handful of vehicons leave with sirius because! he is just so kind and caring and, again, is so, so sincere in his love and compassion. the predacons, sirius and the vehicons that join them basically act as a new faction. sirius gets the most powerful force just because he’s really nice LMFAOO.

though he’s a sensitive, compassionate and loving mech, he’s a warrior. he inherited his sire’s gladiator coding, he was trained the mech who raised him, a mech incredibly ancient and powerful and dangerous. i think because he inherited megatron’s coding, he loves the thrill of a fight. he gets lost in it sometimes, he wants to fight and win and conquer and it greatly shames him. he doesn’t like violence and war, he detests both, but he loves the physical aspects of battle nonetheless. part of his story is accepting the darker parts of himself and loving himself without letting those parts control him. physicality is a large aspect of his relationship with predaking (aside from their mutual respect, immense love and understanding in each other based on their loneliness). predaking can take what sirius gives and vice versa. there’s this innate trust they have in each other, this mutual ability to see the other beyond his physical prowess. basically, they spar a lot.

his weaponry is gold, just like the gold on his frame!! i actually had this idea a while back of basically… transformers lightsaber. the that that carries a physical piece of one’s spark, and it ignites into pure energy that can be wielded in battle. if this idea stays, sirius has two but he doesn’t use them often.

continuing from my first point, i’ve actually considered his optics being reflective like energon cubes. like they’re always subtly changing color, especially when the light hits them. i don’t know about keeping that idea though!

that’s all for now!! once i can draw robots it’s over for sirius.

i unfortunately tried to attempt to draw my transformers oc but i was repeatedly reminded i don’t know how to draw robots. so why does he look like that! unfortunately because i don’t know how to draw robots, this isn’t an official, consistent design for him. more like a ‘this seems kind of right’ vibe! any tips on how to draw these fucking giant alien robots is greatly appreciated!

anyway, some information about him! aligned is very loosely connected, obviously, so some things aren’t canon in this story.

his name is sirius pax. apparently the most unoriginal name for a megop oc but i came up with him years ago, so i literally would rather die than change it! son of megop, or more accurately, megatronous and orion pax.

born just before the war. neither of his creators knew he was conceived. he was born after their speeches to the council, and the stress of megatronous cutting all contact with orion forced a premature birth. a premature little baby. he was, however, otherwise healthy for being born just prior to the war. raised in secret and only a few closest to optimus knew of his existence. one being ratchet, who he was especially close to.

killed in the early stages of the war, by a bombing in iacon city. hardly anyone knew he lived, hardly anyone knew he died. was found by a mysterious mech and revived under even more mysterious circumstances. through his revival, he got a new white and gold paint job, but lost his memories. was smuggled off cybertron and raised by this mysterious mech, and everyone who knew him was unaware of his revival.

eventually ended up on earth once once he was a fully grown mech and went into stasis. found by megatron sometime after his return and joined the decepticons. he formed a deep friendship with the vehicons and predaking.

though he inherited megatron’s gladiator coding, he is shorter than both his creators due to his premature birth. never fully grew into his antennae, so they’re pretty big and are a tell-tale sign for reading his emotions. he’s very expressive and is never insincere with his love. trained by the mech who smuggled him off-world, he is an extremely proficient warrior and dons a sword and shield. he’d rather be picking flowers or something though. despite his kindness, he’s very lonely and has a deep desire for community. he years for a home he cannot recall and a family he does not know. god damn he needs to kiss someone.

unfortunately i cannot share more because i am embarrassed.