#helena: you can hate me

[necrotic-nephilim]

there is not enough femslash in batcest circles. the girls deserve to be just as weird about each other as the boys are. if BruDick gets to be weird father/son/brothers/lovers/friends/rivals/soulmates then it is only fair that Babs/Cass get to be mother/daughter/sisters/lovers too. Something about that deep intrinsic but undefinable love that is born out of trauma, especially if you consider Cass not knowing what healthy love looks like in the first place. i think it's fun and deserves just as much fandom content.

besides that, you can get even more niche with rarepairs like Helena/Steph. Huntress/Spoiler: Blunt Trauma is already a fantastic comic and even though it's their only real canon interaction it has so much potential. very comparable to TimJay in how Helena tries to get Steph to understand her morals and the corruption you could play with it.

batman: huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma (1998)

that comic also highlights on how both Steph and Helena are outcasts of the Batfamily and don't have the approval of Bruce to be doing what they do in "his city". I think there's so much Potential in Helena taking Steph under her wing because Bruce won't let her in and it becomes a weird codependent toxic sapphic mess. I think the protectiveness Helena feels over Steph from the get-go is so clear and the way she wants to look out for Steph, wants to make sure Steph understands the real world? I love them. Helena should be allowed to steal Steph, actually. I think it'd be fun.

there are a lot of other possibilities too like Babs/Steph or even getting weird with Helena Bertinelli/Helena Wayne and the existential question of "is it selfcest or not." But these two specifically live in my head rent-free, especially Helena/Steph and one day I'll convince everyone else to ship it too.

[kiras-monkey-bum-face]

where's the love for the average lesbians (me)? you know the ones that are too masc to be considered femme but too femme to be considered masc (still me)? the lesbians that don't want to move fast and can't stand the idea of dating apps because they just favour the conventionally attractive (also me). where's the love for the lesbians that dont want to fall into a stereotype catagory and just want to exist (I'm talking about me)

[papaiyatree]

learning more abt helena bertinelli is realizing that her 1st suit + her year one suit is her best suit

[itsalwaysdark]

have i ever related to any other characters ... who remembered

[necrotic-nephilim]

as a Helena fan who's witnessed this whole bit go from silly jokes/memes to genuine vitriol, it's been utterly bizarre. from what i noticed, the root of the comparison came from people fanonizing Jason to the degree of saying "he has Catholic guilt (bc of the Flashpoint priest!Jason) and he'd be an English school teacher (bc i'm assuming, his taste for classic lit) and he's female rage-coded and he would adopt/protect children" which, are canonical traits of Helena. so at first, it was sort of a joke lamenting the fact ppl would rather force unrealistic headcanons onto Jason than consume content with a woman in the Batfam. because it's sort of a tad ironic/painful to see fanonized Jason Todd who's being called all these things he isn't, when there's a canon character who *is* all of those things right there. like if that's the character you want, why wouldn't you want to read about Helena. the issue started with frustration against fanon Jason, from my experience anyway.

but then, it spiraled out of control to become a comparison of their lethal moral code and their disagreements with Bruce suddenly making Jason this stupid boy clone of Helena. which isn't true and is an insult to both of them to claim they're at all the same. they kill for different reasons, they're at odds with Bruce for different reasons. a well-written Helena and a well-written Jason really have little in common. though their interactions could be interesting, i don't even think they'd get along tbh.

i think in recent months/years, the Batfamily fandom suddenly became self aware that they grossly ignore the women of the Batfam. and now they're trying *too hard* to course correct for that. to an extent, i get why Helena isn't in the majority of fanon content- she hasn't really *been* a Batfamily member since pre-Flashpoint. the New-52 and Rebirth versions of her character are arguably not even the same character and certainly not a character as important to the Batfamily as she used to be. so why *would* a fandom mostly pulling from modern comics know who she is aside from the couple WFA episodes she's been in. (which did her *no* favors for people understanding her and also whitewashed her before the art was fixed.)

but, i think everyone's now trying to prove how woke their fandom content is (i hate using that word, it sounds very republican but i can't think of a better one.) by including women and characters of color to prove they don't just care about the boys. and sure, it's cool and all if you want to pick up Huntress comics bc you're sick of reading about stories only featuring Bruce and his "sons", but now it's like. almost a competition to prove how much more you know about the Batfam than other people when you make these jokes. i've seen the same thing happening comparing Steph and Jason recently. yes, it's important to care about the more diverse characters of the Batfam as much as you care about the boys. but now they're put on this ridiculous pedestal of being the "more cool alternatives". an organic push for content about the underrated characters is one thing, but it's another thing entirely when it's born out of a performative nature, which is certainly what this whole... thing feels like.

and the irony is, you can *really* tell the people doing this the most haven't actually read much of Helena's content outside of Gail Simone's Birds of Prey. and my hot take is, i don't think Gail Simone does a *great* job with Helena and she's often pretty sexist toward Helena (making other characters slut shame her, making Helena very promiscuous which isn't something she has a history of, etc) so, while it's important content for Helena, it can be a shallow reading of her. where all you really get about her is "pro-murder Batfam vigilante with a crossbow and a sassy personality" which sure, feels a *bit* like a shallow Jason. but that's the whole point, you have to make them both *incredibly* shallow to compare them. bc it's not about actually liking the women, it's about getting the shallow brownie points of saying "look i know who she is and i think she's *totally* cooler than Jason he's a dumb copy".

tbh even with the Jason Todd headcanons that are more egregious in feeling like "oh that's just Helena Bertinelli but a dude", it's not like it's being done on purpose. none of these fanon-only fans know enough about Helena to be purposefully stealing her traits and it really isn't that deep aside from sometimes, people just have bad headcanons that kinda make you wish they would read about characters aside from their main blorbos. but hey, they're not *required* to, and no one is an evil misogynist for having some OOC headcanons. you suck the fun out of fandom when you require people to interact with characters they aren't interested in. and depending on why someone likes Jason, they honestly might not like Helena. they're wildly different and have very different dynamics with everyone around them.

and i get it, Jason has had *wildly* inconsistent writing and there's debate upon debate of what's in character for him, what comics you should consider when trying to make fan content about him, and so on. i'm in the "anything past pre-Flashpoint isn't in the version i prefer" camp, but the whole mess of it scatters the fandom on how to write him. which i think is the actual root of him getting fanonizing beyond recognition, *not* people stealing from Helena. is it particularly headache-inducing to see Jason fans say "he's girl coded" or "he's female-rage coded"? yeah. but even those fans aren't ever going to be convinced out of their bubble by vitriolic comments made about how Jason's a total loser and Helena's so much cooler than him. and then the more canon-based fans who might *actually* like Helena and probably would read her comics if just given an honest recommendation of her character are *really* not going to want to be interacting her content/fandom. painting a broad stroke of the Jason fandom all seeing Jason as this cartoonish fanon version of himself does you no favors with anyone.

like i used to find the silly jokes/memes that were solely calling out bad fanon enjoyable as pure lighthearted "oh i wish more people liked this character the way they liked that character bc the fandom for this character is so small" vibes, but you're right about it getting out of hand. it's become the only thing people seem to talk about in the Huntress fandom space. i'd much rather discuss Helena for who she is then talk about Jason. because isn't it just a *little* ironic that in attempting to make this fandom more inclusive of the women, we still just *have* to make it about the men? you don't make Helena, or Steph or Cass or Onyx or any other underrated woman sound cool by comparing them to Jason. you just make it sound like you don't know how she stands as a character on her own. she's a cool character with a cool history (both in-universe and the meta history of the Huntress mantle) but this whole weird hate boner for Jason permeating the fandom space for her just makes people hate her instead of not know of her. and really, i can't blame anyone for that.

Like. Where and when did Helena vs Jason thing start? It's so fucking annoying and makes me think that I'll never want to interact with the Huntress fandom if/when I read more stuff about her. Which is a bit how I avoid interacting with the Nightwing fandom at large despite liking his stuff.

[robjn93]

˗ˏˋ stephanie brown accessible entry point

this is a list of comics to understand the basics of her character! ive seen a lot of people who didnt know where to start to read so ive compiled this list to make it as easy as possible for new readers to get into stephanie brown

who is stephanie brown?

daughter of the criminal and abusive father cluemaster (arthur brown), she became the spoiler to ‘spoil’ her father’s robbery and overall to protect herself and her mother from him. eventually she digs the vigilante life. she becomes robin briefly and is currently one of the batgirls!

as SPOILER:

⟢ secret origins: 80-page giant

this comic /technically/ is set in the future and is steph ‘telling the story of her childhood’ but honestly i find it pretty suitable even with no context and a must read in my eyes to understand her motives and character

⟢ detective comics 647 - 649

her first appearance… with the iconic brick in the face 😭 this comic is not set in a precise timeline, just post-robin 1991 and pre-knightfall so you can read it with no context as well!

⟢ showcase ‘95 #5 (second story)

PLEASE READ THIS i never see it in reading lists and its sooo important to me. it shows steph’s strained relationship with her mother when her dad is not in the picture and briefly some of her school life!

i’d say read robin (1993) afterwards because it consistently features steph, as much as it is ‘tim’s solo run’, but here THE most important stories (they were very hard to pick)

⟢ robin (1993) #3 - 5

her first appearance in the monthly! and lordd the timsteph here makes me sick. tim being saved by steph 🫶 also more on her and her mom as crystal is starting recovery from drug addiction

⟢ robin (1993) issue 15 - 16

not gonna lie, a huge part of me wants me to suggest it because you get to see arthur get his ass kicked by steph (sweet revenge) but theres also steph being saved by tim for a change and more on steph’s relationship with her dad

⟢ robin (1993) #35

this story for me conveys properly the impact that steph’s upbringing had on her sense of justice and morality being fundamentally different from batman and robin’s, something tim and bruce just can’t understand

⟢ robin (1993) #40 - 41

warning / implied SA (ariana ☹️) the story is a two-parter, steph’s side in issue 40 uses diary entries to explain how she feels about the whole vigilante ordeal. issue 41 is more timsteph oriented but it shows tim finally acknowledging his feelings for steph

⟢ huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma

this story happens during cataclysm but its not necessary to read the whole thing + dean’s first appearance 😒 he is the scumbag bastard ‘father of steph’s child’ + helena and steph linkup!!

⟢ robin (1993) #54 and 56-57

BAD CASE OF THE STEPHS MENTIONED + steph and crystal bonding and tim and steph getting together!!! + robin 57 as guilty pleasure :3 their first official date

⟢ robin (1993) #58-65

warning: dixon tackling teen pregnancy. we all know how that goes. remember dean? well steph got pregnant! and that guy bailed on her. dean when i get you. this arc breaks me everytime, steph you deserve the world ☹️

⟢ lewis era robin (1993) aka robin #100 - 120 HEAVY ON ROBIN 111

warning for SA / glimpses on steph’s childhood + dealing with the fact that her father is dead etc etc that will just make you think we should all just kill ourselves yk!!!!

as ROBIN:

⟢ robin (1993) #126 - 128

warning: debatable writing. robin steph! but take everything with like 5 pinches of different salts 😭 its bad y’all but it is essential. dan didio when i get your ass. dan didio when i get youuu

⟢ steph is dead! arc aka batman 634, detective comics 800 and 809, batgirl 62

i fucking hate war games so im not putting y'all through that. here instead: tim being so overcome by grief he can barely react to steph's passing, bruce remembering steph and cass hallucinating her as she is about to die

after that please just imagine that steph came back cause about every issue after her death was the worst ooc writing ever so, again, not putting you guys through that (its tough for stephanie brown fans)

as BATGIRL:

⟢ batgirl (2009)

i wanna say im conflicted about its writing but its about the best thing steph had post-revival. they constantly insult her spoiler legacy so not a fan of that!! but it is essential and i mostly like the rest so whatever :3 steph’s uni arc!

after that honestly nothing happened for her character, so heres on hoping she gets more stuff

[megalomaniacz]

bad communication with asshole rich!abby who you’d been “fake dating” for a couple months. she sees you walk over to someone at a party and feels her heart sink when that model bitch ex comes over to her. this is what she wanted, right? to make her jealous. so why does she feel completely crushed when the girl whispers something alluding to your infidelity in her ear. “you deserve better babe. you deserve me, let’s get back together….” lingers in the air as she rushes out into the street. loosening the buttons on her dress shirt and holding her chest like her heart might fall out if she doesn’t.

you’re right behind her, purse in hand, necklace with her name in a heart dancing as you rush to catch her. “abagail, what’s the matter? where are you going?”

“don’t fucking call me that. my name is abby, i told you i hate being called that. my dad calls me that.”

you know that. you’ve met her father and he adored you. she used to sigh or roll her eyes when you called her abagail. tease you that ‘abby is just so much easier to scream’. but you were seeing something different in her eyes in this moment. out near the busy street, up against the wall. you try to move closer to her but she scoots away. “don’t.”

“what’s going on-“

“did you sleep with your ex? at any time during this? i mean, that’s so fucking low you don’t even understand-“

you’re so shocked that you can barely find the words to reply. “what? no. i wouldn’t do that to you abby. i wouldn’t do that to us.”

and you can see that she doesn’t want to say what she does next, but she feels like you’re lying. she’s blinded by rage. she feels embarrassed and stupid for ever falling for you, even if she knew deep down that that’s what she’d eventually end up doing. because, damn are you easy to fall in love with. she can’t even look at you.

“there is no us. helena wants me back, anyway. let’s just go our seperate ways. you can keep all the shit i got you, you desperately needed it because you are a fucking mess.”

and words burn. they sink under skin. they leave a mark, but this? this was a knife to the chest, twenty times in the same spot. this was enough to erase the budding love you’d grown for her. enough to make the memory of her lips on yours, skin on yours, agonizing. you felt like she’d just killed and buried you. all you can do is wrap your hand around the necklace, rip it off with all your might and cry.

[1800-fight-me]

Love your writing :) Could you please do a story where reader/Aemonds wife gets captured and taken on a ship

Before Aemond of course comes to rescue his love

The Rogue Prince

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Rating: M (Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, implied smut

Word count: About 3.5k

Synopsis: Aemond Targaryen is loyal to his family and house above all, but what happens when his wife is captured and in mortal peril?

Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I hope you enjoy it!! Protective and possessive Aemond owns me... also I started writing this before I knew the plot of season two so the timeline of this fic doesn't make much sense but let's just pretend it does, okay? lol

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

There was commotion in King’s Landing. Chaos. Terror. 

You were not within the safety of the Red Keep as you normally were, as you should be. 

There was so much screaming you couldn’t think straight. 

Alicent grabbed your hand, her other hand in Helena's and pulled you both forward. 

The crowd pushed and heaved and you yelled as your hand slipped from your mother in law’s. 

Pure terror shot down your spine as the push of the crowd led you away from them, away from your family by marriage, away from the King’s Guards, away from safety. 

You were lost in a sea of limbs and panic, your screams completely unheard over the cacophony of scared sounds. 

You couldn’t even determine the source of the commotion, you didn’t see it, only the after effect as you were now pushed down the streets of the city. 

Water dripped down your cheeks, and when you looked up, the sky was clear. You continued to run with the crowd, in order to avoid being knocked over and trampled. 

You lifted a hand to your face, and realized you were crying. 

Another hand grabbed yours, and you gasped in relief, as you were harshly pulled to the side and into an alley. 

Your gasping breaths slowed as the crowd no longer threatened to crush you. 

You clenched your jaw and steeled your resolve as you realized the person who pulled you to safety was a stranger with a predatory gleam in his eyes. 

You lifted your chin and yanked your hand out of his. 

“Thank you for the assistance, kind sir, but I must get going. My family is expecting me,” you said firmly. 

A hateful chuckle came from the darkness behind you. 

You whirled around and saw two malicious looking men, behind them in the darkness there were two young women sitting on the ground with their hands and legs bound and gags in their mouths. There was fear unlike any you’d ever known in their eyes. 

That same fear now dripped down your spine, but you couldn’t give into it, instead you steeled your spine. 

“How much do you think we can get for this one?” The shorter man sneered. 

You thought of how your husband spoke to his enemies and tried to emulate that same haughty tone as you looked down your nose at them.

“I am a Targaryen. Return-“

”But you don’t got silver hair,” one of the men blurted out. 

You wrinkled your nose, ever the royal, and said, “I am the wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen. Return me to the Red Keep safely and I will make it certain you are rewarded for your goodwill.” 

The men’s smiles grew greedy. 

“Imagine how much we can get in ransom,” the one behind you muttered. 

“That would be an incredibly stupid course of action. The Prince is a viciously protective man and would surely kill any who attempt to kidnap me. He once broke a man’s arm for grabbing me in the halls of the Red Keep. Another time he broke a man’s nose for looking at me too long. It is in your best interest to leave me be,” you said sternly. 

The shorter one had the sense to look scared, but the bigger one, the scarier one, looked only overconfident. 

“The One Eyed Prince is not in King’s Landing, is he? I hear he is far away tending to the ongoing war within his house,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

You gulped. 

“He rides the largest dragon in the world, it would be a quick thing for him to be here to incinerate you all,” you said, your confident tone wavering slightly. 

“He’s not here now,” the one behind you said, and before you could look back at him there was pain as something hit you in the side of the head and the world turned black as you fell. 

You were floating on a sea of fire, the motion of the waves of flame rocking you back and forth, the gentleness bringing you a sense of peace and reassurance you had not felt since your husband mounted his dragon and flew off to war. 

The sky cracked open and rain poured as lightning flashed. But the flames you swam in remained strong, boosted you up, and as a bolt of lightning flashed towards you in slow motion, you held your hand up and the waves of fire surrounded you, protecting you from danger.

As you resurfaced you pointed your finger at the thundercloud and the fire shot like an arrow and decimated it. 

Someone shook your shoulder and as you woke, your body still rocked back and forth with waves, only furthering your disorientation as you found yourself  somewhere completely foreign. 

“Aemond?” You mumbled as nausea threatened to overcome you. 

“Princess,” a female voice said and you cracked your eyes open to find yourself in a fully wooden room with two women. They both laid on the floor in the tiny room, same as you. 

“Where am I?” You asked bewildered. Your head pounded and as you reached your hand and touched the side of it, you felt a tender bruise and hissed in pain. 

“Princess, don’t you remember? We were captured,” the other woman said. 

It all came rushing back to you and you pressed your lips together to avoid vomiting. 

“Y-yes, where are we?” 

“Somewhere in the middle of the sea,” the younger woman said quietly, her tone distraught. 

You were on a ship, shoved in a small room, surely in the hull, that had been transformed into a temporary dungeon you discovered as you stood, losing your balance for a moment, and attempted to open the locked door. 

“We already tried that,” the one with the dark hair said. 

You sighed. “Of course you did.” 

“How long have we been in here?” You asked, panic filling your chest. 

“My guess is a day and a half,” the younger woman said. 

You sank to your knees and allowed the tears to fill your eyes as the despair hit. 

You later learned that the names of the women you were trapped with were Marrion and Eliza. They were both as terrified as you, but managed to learn as much as they could about the men who held you, which they relayed to you in hushed tones for fear of the guard outside the door overhearing. 

“Is it true that your husband will come to rescue you?” Eliza asked hopefully. 

You pressed your lips together. “Yes, but who knows how long it will take him to learn of my capture, to find me?” 

Both the women looked down in dismay. 

You knew that Aemond would abandon his war, his family, his life for you. You knew he would fight, would bleed, would die for you. Such was his love and devotion to his wife, but his family knew that as well, and a small voice in the back of your head worried and warned you that perhaps his scheming grandsire would prevent word of your predicament to be sent to your husband. 

You wondered if you prayed to Vhagar if she would hear it and lead your husband to you, she was practically a goddess of war in her own right. You didn’t believe in any of the other gods your husband and his family worshiped.

“We need to make our own plan in the meantime,” you said firmly and they nodded. 

You lifted your skirt and pulled out the sapphire embedded dagger strapped to your thigh that your husband gifted you on your name day. 

Your companions had watched the men’s patterns before you awoke, and you based your plan off that. Listening to your husband and offering him support taught you a decent amount about strategy, and hours of training with him had taught you self defense skills as well, and it was time to put both to use, this time with you having the element of surprise, not the horrible men who stole you. 

The next day, when the guard unlocked and opened the door that kept your prisoner, you were prepared to charm and simper, but the man smiled at you in a way that made your stomach sink, and threw a dress at you. 

“The captain demands your presence, you have ten minutes to ready yourself,” he said with another lingering look before turning and slamming the door shut again. The lock was loud as it was clicked back into place. 

“Well that makes things a bit easier,” you said and both women laughed in shock with you before they helped you make yourself look more presentable. 

As you made your way towards the captain’s office, the pirates aboard the ship stared and sneered. You blinked against the brightness of the sun as it glittered over the blue sea. There was no sight of land that you could see, nothing but depthless ocean, no option for escape but a watery grave. 

Your hopes of an easy getaway were dashed, you had no idea how long you would be forced to remain on this ship until it reached land and you could enact your strategy for release. 

There was also no sight of Vhagar, no dragon roar in the winds, no dashing husband with a sword in hand, no one to save you. 

Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

The captain grinned at you, and you held in your grimace as you followed him into the room he led you to. 

There was a table in the center of the room, food laden upon it, and your stomach growled in protest. 

He chuckled at the sound, “Please, eat as much as you desire.” 

He sat across the table from you and you waited until he filled his plate and took a few bites, before you tore into the food before you, uncaring of being ladylike due to the feeling of starvation. 

“I hear you are a princess,” the man said and you looked up at him as you used your napkin to wipe your mouth. 

“Your men stole me from my wedded family,” you said. 

“The Targaryens,” he said. 

You nodded, unable to withhold your glare. 

“They’re not my men, in case you are interested, just men who sell me goods that make me gold,” he drawled and you resisted the urge to slap him. 

“I am not an item to be bartered and sold, I am the wife of Aemond Targaryen and you will release me safely or my dragon will burn you and your entire operation to the ground,” you said, softly but with passion. 

He had the gall to laugh at you. 

You gritted your teeth and attempted to quell your temper, but your fiery temperament was difficult to leash, it was what attracted your husband to you in the first place. 

“You’re a hateful bastard,” you spat. 

He laughed again, “Guilty as charged. Princess, when we reach our destination across the sea, your husband’s family will be contacted and ransom will be posted. My crew and I will get our money and you will be returned home.”

You glared, wishing your look could kill. Your hand inched up your leg, grazing the sheathed dagger hidden under your skirts that hadn’t been found and confiscated during your capture. 

Pirates began screaming and then there was an earth shattering roar. 

You smirked. 

He pulled out his sword and pointed it at you and rested the tip against your throat. 

“You will die for this,” you purred. 

“Stay put,” he said as he then stood and walked past you to the door. 

As he opened the door, there was the most glorious sight to behold. Vaghar cast a shadow over the ship large enough it was nearly dark as night. Aemond’s silver hair shined as he climbed down a rope from her saddle and landed on the ship, his sword out and began slaughtering. 

“Targaryen,” the captain yelled as he stepped out and stood on the bannister, looking down as your husband cut down his men. 

You stood and quietly slipped your dagger from its sheath as you crept behind the captain. 

“Where is my wife?” Aemond bellowed. 

Heat filled you in response to his presence, his rage. 

The captain opened his mouth to respond when a blade pierced the back of his neck, pushed through, and broke through on the other side of his throat, before the dagger was withdrawn. Red splattered as he choked on his own blood, the only sounds of his surprise. 

He turned around to look at his attacker and you gave him a feral grin. 

“I told you that you and your entire ship would burn,” you said sweetly before you pushed him over the railing, ignoring the sound and sight of his crippled body on the wood as you looked up at your Aemond. 

The fighting had indeed paused as all were shocked by the death of the captain. 

“I am here,” you said, blood spattered and filled with relief. 

Aemond released a sigh of relief and gave you a feral grin. 

“Come to me,” he said as his sword clashed with another, the men regaining their wits and attempting to kill him once more. 

Everything in you wanted to yield to his command, to run to him, to be in his arms, but you had one more task to complete. 

“In a minute,” you called out as you took off running back towards the cell you were kept in. As you looked back, you saw the confused quizzical look he threw at you as he continued to stab and end the lives of the men who stole you from him. 

You raced down the hallway, having memorized the way, and saw the guard as he unlocked and opened the door where your companions were kept. 

You stabbed him in the back, and ripped your dagger out, so when he turned around in surprise, you stabbed him again in the heart. 

You yanked your dagger from him as you looked at the women, and yelled, “Follow me!” 

You ran back from the belly of the ship to the safety of your dragon. But as soon as you were out in the open and saw him again, you realized he was in trouble. 

He was the most skilled fighter, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. You threw your dagger at a man about to stab him in the back, and it found its home in the enemy's forehead.

You then picked up a sword off a deceased body and attempted to fight, but the sword was quickly knocked from your hands.  

Your foe held his sword to your throat and you huffed in frustration. 

Marrion and Eliza hid behind you, and at least eight men stood between you and Aemond. 

“Enough,” the man who held your life in his hands yelled. 

The fighting stopped and Aemond’s gaze met yours across the ship. Fire gleamed in his eye, blood coated his hands, splattered across his clothing, his handsome face, his silver hair. He was a god of vengeance, your protector, the bearer of your heart and soul. 

“Return my wife to me,” he snarled. 

“We outnumber you, yield,” the man closest to him said through gritted teeth. 

“I do believe you are forgetting something,” Aemond said with a smirk and Vhagar roared loud enough to rock the boat. 

You huffed a laugh. 

The men took a step back from your husband, shaking in their boots. 

Aemond held his hand out to you, you looked back to the man who threatened you, and with a sigh he lowered his sword from your throat. You ran into Aemond’s embrace, he pulled you close with one arm even as he continued to hold his sword up against the men. 

The other two women followed you, and hid behind the two of you. 

“My love,” he murmured, “Climb aboard Vhagar and lead your companions to do the same. I will be there momentarily.”

You pressed a kiss to his blood smattered cheek and did as he ordered. You climbed the rope that led you to Vhagar’s saddle, and as you got settled, you assisted the others in doing the same. 

Aemond continued his stand off with the men who remained. When one jumped forward, attempting to attack, he unleashed himself. 

The opponents were no match for your dragon, despite their numbers, and Aemond slayed as many as he could, before grabbing onto the rope. 

With words in High Valyrian dripping from his tongue, he ordered his dragon to fly, taking him higher and away from the men who attempted to take you from him. 

Only moments passed, and then he yelled, “Dracarys.” 

Liquid fire encompassed the pirate ship and it burned just as you predicted it would. 

You watched the ship, the men on it, burn to ashes before sinking into the ocean as Aemond climbed atop Vhagar’s saddle and situated himself behind you, wrapping his arms around you, the other two women behind him. 

“Let’s go home, my love,” he said in your ear, gently and reassuring. 

You nodded, sinking into his embrace, and only tearing your eyes from the wreckage when it sunk beneath the watery depths. 

The return to King’s Landing was quick, and trusted guards returned the women with you safely to their homes, but not before you offered them jobs in the Red Keep, which they tearfully accepted. Descriptions were given of the men that sold you to the pirates, and you knew they would be dead by nightfall. f

Then, your husband led you to the small council chambers, you walked in feeling bashful, but he strutted in, led you to sit as he stood behind you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on your shoulder. 

“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed. 

He ignored her and instead glared at his grandsire. 

“Why was I not properly informed that my wife had been stolen,” he growled. 

“You left your post,” Otto replied. 

“I don’t give a shit about my post. My wife was in danger. Days went by, days that she was no longer in your protection as you had promised,” he said, his voice raised. 

“Aemond, we were doing everything we could to get her back,” Alicent attempted to soothe. 

“Not enough,” Aemond said through gritted teeth. 

“It was a calculated decision to not inform you, the hope was that we would have her back safety before you discovered that she was ever gone-“

”You calculated wrong.” Aemond said, his voice low and dark, the promise of violence so strong that you looked back at him and placed your hand atop his own. 

“Aemond, I am fine, I am safe,” you reassured. 

He glanced down at you, the words seeming to smooth some of the jagged panic inside him.

“And we are so grateful that you are,” Alicent replied. 

Aemond looked back up. 

“We need you to return, you and Vhagar are essential-“ 

“Fuck that,” Aemond said as he tugged on your hand, pulling you up out of your chair and by his side as he turned to leave. 

“Aemond!” Alicent protested. 

“My wife will stay by my side,” Aemond announced as you both exited the room. 

”My love?” You asked, breathless as he walked swiftly through the halls of the Red Keep, keeping you with him. 

“I will return to the war efforts on the morrow and you will come with me, do you understand? I cannot breathe when you are not near me. I cannot breathe when you are not safely in my arms. I cannot- “ 

“Aemond, look at me,” you said gently as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

You had pulled him to a stop right in front of your chambers, they had gone unused since you wed him as he had immediately moved you into his own. 

His breathing was ragged, panic still threatening to pull him under. 

“You saved me. I am here. And I will stay by your side always, if that is what you desire,” you said softly but passionately. 

His lips crashed into yours. 

His grip was tight as he pulled you against the hard planes of his body. 

Your heart soared as his passion threatened to consume you. The waves of his fiery passion threatened to pull you under as his tongue tangled with yours and he moved, leading you to step back until your back hit the door and he pressed you against it. His hands roved from gripping your hips, one grazing the underside of your breast, the other caressing the side of your throat. 

He pulled his lips from yours long enough to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out, “Always?” 

“Always,” you promised as you pulled his lips back to yours. 

His hand reached the handle of the door behind you, and he guided you into the room. He spent the night proving his devotion to you, imprinting himself on and inside your body, giving you pleasure of unparalleled heights. 

And the next morning, your dragon kept his promise of always, and brought you with him, holding you tight and close on Vhagar’s back as he returned to wage war against his foes. 

[sylver-drawer]

SO TRUE! Manhwa has really taught people to be wary of every single woman because “omg she’s nice she has to be faking it”. Unless they get spoiled (EVEN WHEN THEY GET SPOILED SOMETIMES) about the character not being evil or whatnot, or even if they continue being just an overall normal girl, the readers will continue to rudely and nonsensically dislike ‘the other girl character’.

And yet, if a single man (LITERALLY A ONE OFF CHARACTER TO THE SECOND MALE LEAD) even approaches the female lead or breathes in her presence, it’s suddenly “omg I want him” or “he’s so cute” or any sort of praise simping for him in light of the female lead. But god forbid a female character just stand in the same room of the female lead, she has to be planning something.

And more often than not, it’s also like,,, the female lead tends to be a bad person too? And the readers live for it, but the moment another female character appears, suddenly the girlboss female lead they love is the most innocent of angels who has done no wrong, but the girl who just walked in? A sinner. The readers don’t know crap about the girl, and she’s already labeled with an antagonistic role just for being another woman existing in the same space as the woman [they] prefer.

And in these cases, it’s so much more common that if another female does one thing wrong, they are so much more hated than any male character who has done the same thing, or even worse. But the male character is nice to the female lead, so it’s ✨ok✨. Oh, but if the secondary female lead doesn’t worship the ground the female lead walks on, or if they get focus for one moment it’s suddenly foreshadowing that they’re the true villain of the story, obviously planning the female lead’s downfall 🧍‍♀️

Like it’s just so stupid. The manhwa community, especially in the rofan portion of the community, hate women so much but worship the ground any man walks on. Another female character isn’t allowed to have trauma or struggles, only the female lead can. Another female character can’t like the male lead, he belongs to the female lead. If the female character isn’t a tool for the female lead, she has to be an enemy. What’s the point of another female character other than to obviously steal the female lead’s spotlight? Oh, but the male lead/male character has such a sad backstory so it’s ok how he acts! Or he’s hot so it’s ok no matter what he does! Or the male character is such a cinnamon roll who deserved so much better even though all he’s done is exist. It’s so stupid.

it will be always beyond me how you guys will root for the mean female character in the isekai / historical stories and call her "girlboss" just for doing anything . But ofcourse the girl who is being all cute and extroverted is bad and an immediate threat to her!!! But the guy who is being all cute and extroverted is a potential ml and you guys will swoon over how y'all be getting "2nd male lead syndrome" even if the guy has the persona of ⅓rd of a raw bread lmao.

Yes I won't outright hate you for writing female characters who hate eachother and all but I miss the thought behind writing them and interpreting them properly .

wow I needed to get that off my chest .

In conclusion: y'all are mean to female characters without no reason and lenient with male characters for no reason and it's dumb lmao

[thebramblewood]

They're going on a best friend date. 🥰

Previous / Next

Helena: Caleb, get dressed. We’re going out.

Caleb: [mumbling] Oh, but Dru and I were just getting comfortable.

Helena: She looks like she’d rather be elsewhere. And so would I. I’m tired of being a recluse with you. All I can think about when I’m hanging around here is my next meal.

Caleb: But where are we-

Helena: It’s a surprise! Would you rather I ask your sister instead?

-

Lilith: Where are you two off to? Oh, are you having one of your little mental conversations. You know I hate that. It’s so unfair! Fine, don’t tell me. But at least take your hellcat with you. [to rubber ducky] I guess it’s just you, me, and that… thing. Now, what are we going to do about them keeping secrets from us?

-

Helena: Why have we never taken this path?

Caleb: Enemy territory.

Helena: Oh my god, is this the way to Vlad’s? You have to show me his place!

Caleb: [weakly] Helena…

Helena: [shudders] Ostentatious and creepy as fuck. It’s strange how little I noticed that first night. And what I do remember is all fragmented and blurry, like a dream.

Caleb: Well, you had an awful lot to drink, and you did technically die. [ruminative pause] Then, of course, there was all the glamouring-

Helena: Glamouring?

Caleb: Vampire party trick. Like hypnosis, but more sophisticated. Once you learn it, you can make yourself as discreet or flashy as you’d like. Most humans have encountered vampires without even realizing it. If they stumble into this place  — and make it out alive — they likely won’t remember how to return. Straud and the other ancients keep it well-shrouded.

Helena: [nervously] Does it work on other vampires? I’ve barely seen any-

Caleb: We can always see our kind for what they are. You’ve just been unobservant.

Helena: Hey! I’ve been distracted. It’s hard not to have tunnel vision when you’re in perpetual survival mode.

Caleb: You’re feeling better now. I can tell.

Helena: I’m full on plasma and ready to party!

Caleb: [chuckles] Seriously?

Helena: Well, not quite. You’ll see.

Caleb: You know, I could just peek into your head and-

Helena: [teasingly] Too bad your morals will never allow it.

[spiritually-a-deer]

୨⎯ 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷⎯୧

♡ about me ♡

౨ৎ you can call me elodie (she/her) ^^

౨ৎ 15 yrs old

౨ৎ deer disguised as an insane teenage girl

౨ৎ infp and aquarius

౨ৎ german (whatever stereotype youre thinking of rn im not like it)

౨ৎ hopeless romantic

౨ৎ married to evan peters, cillian murphy, kurt cobain, tim burton, emma watson, taissa farmiga, mia goth, winona ryder, helena bonham carter, elizabeth grant and brittany murphy

౨ৎ hobbies: reading, writing, girlblogging, listening to music and true crime pods, watching movies and shows, baking and yapping with my very few but lovely friends

౨ৎ books: the bell jar, the virgin suicides, my year of rest and relaxation, christiane f, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, the picture of dorian gray, the silent patient, the secret history, tributes of panem, harry potter, enola holmes, truly devious, the little prince and literally anything by kafka, rick riordan and holly jackson

౨ৎ movies: girl interrupted, black swan, thirteen, american psycho, perks of being a wallflower, jennifers body, pearl, buffalo 66, coraline, dead poets society, léon: the professional, the menu, the craft, my girl, i believe in unicorns, ten things i hate about you, wicked 2024 and literally anything by sofia coppola, tim burton, david fincher, greta gerwig, wes anderson and studio ghibli

౨ৎ shows: ahs (favs are murder house, coven and asylum), skins, arcane, gilmore girls, bojack horseman, stranger things, spn, barbie: life in the dream house, asoue, obx, heartstopper and ianowt

౨ৎ music: lana, mitski, nirvana, hole, mazzy star, fiona apple, ethel cain, deftones, radiohead, the smiths, fleetwood mac, tv girl, marina, tyler the creator, queen, david bowie, arctic monkeys, the nbhd, ayesha erotica, solya, bambi baker and a lot more

౨ৎ other things i love: art, poetry, cats, deers, swans, iced coffee, dr pepper, trees, old parks, cemeteries, coquette, grunge, y2k, lego flowers, spotify, tumblr and pinterest

♡ about my blog ♡

i'll post relatable girl stuff, my interests, fashion inspo, moodboards, random thoughts and whatever i feel like ^^ everythings mine unless i say otherwise

dms are always open if you wanna talk or be friends <3 i love meeting new people ^^ if you wanna be moots just tell me in my question box! you can also ask anything there, i love answering to these ^^

dni: racists, homophobes, transphobes, fascists, zionists, pedos, nsfw blogs, probably forgot some but yeah im a minor and liberal so i think you get the idea of what i don't tolerate

healthy and pro recovery ed and sh blogs without triggering imagery and stuff are totally ok but if you romanticise this shit, (re)post thin$po or scars and dont want to get better pls pls dni or i will report you bc im trying to improve my mental health and that stuff is not helping at all

♡ other socials ♡

other blog (moodboards of my interests)

spotify (it's kinda messy im sorry)

pinterest (i post more whispers there)

⁠♡ ok i hope i did this right byeee angelss ⁠♡

[axelsagewrites]

Hello, dear reader. I'd like to make a wish for Rhaenyra's little sister, maybe a year or two. And she never liked Alicent, who after marrying the king tries (along with Otto) to demote her to bastard status (but Viserys loves his little girl too much to do this to her). Of course, things get even worse when Rhaenyra's sister gets engaged to Harwin...

Thank you for your attention, I like your stories 🫶🏻. Another thing, can I stop by more often? I wish I had more of my ideas adorned with your writing

Harwin Strong*Suitable Match

Pairing: Harwin x f!reader

Word count: 1320

Warnings: Step parent hating step child, secret relationship, kind of implied smut

a/n: ahh thank u sm for being so sweet and ofc request as much or talk however much u want. sorry i didnt reply sooner i just didnt want to lose the request x

Masterlist Here

A life of a princess was something to envy. Well so many had claimed however after the death of your mother life felt like an ever falling spiral. Your sister began to grow closer to Alicent after the death and while you were happy for her to have a friend Alicent had always been unkind to you.

It had started small with her asking Rhaenyra not to let you join in their games to her unpicking your needle work whenever you would wander off to stretch your legs. Soon you gave up on even trying to be nice to her. anytime she was invited to dinner was met with loud sighs from you.

“Why does she hate me?” you pouted one night as Rhaenyra upbraided your hair.

Your sister rolled her eyes as she began to brush your hair out, “She doesn’t hate you. she’s just not used to a little sister,”

“She’s mean,”

“Cmon she isn’t that bad?”

-

You didn’t want to say I told you so when Alicent was betrothed to your father but the look on your face said it for you. at least Rhaenyra was able to marry and move away. you were instead stuck living at court with your evil stepmother and her spawn. Well, the children were kind to you, but Alicent constantly used them to get under your skin.

She’d send toddler Aegon running over with pretend crown shouting that he was going to be king. Or she would have a 2-year-old Aemond claim he was your husband. She tried to make Helena spill wine on your dress one time, but the poor girl burst into tears and confessed to you instantly.

Instead Alicent settled on insisting that your chambers were given to Aegon. Something you managed to convince your father against from at first but soon you were moved to a wing of the castle usually just for guests. You would’ve complained about longer if you hadn’t realised your new chambers window overlooked the kings guard training ground.

From your window you’d pretend to be doing needle work while secretly watching break bones fling any man that challenged him like a rag doll. Eventually Harwin caught onto your staring and would send his own glimpses up between sparring. It was also handy that your chamber was only a short walk from the guards’ sleeping quarters and Harwin soon became a frequent private guest of yours.

-

“Ser Barros is coming to court next week,” your father told you over a family dinner, “and I heard his son is looking for a wife,” he said, shooting you a hopeful glance.

“I heard he’s a fine man father,” you said kindly knowing full well it didn’t matter. Somehow every match they tried to make for you was sabotaged. The tall dark Baratheon boy was ever so keen for weeks for your hand then one day disappeared like a ghost. The gorgeous Lannister man that would bring you fine jewels suddenly decided a dornish match was of more importance. Even the Tarly boy you had courted had inexplicitly decided to join the nights watch. Every time Alicent wore the same twisted smile.

The only ones she didn’t send running were the incredibly old and decrepit looking men from minor houses, but it wasn’t hard to convince your father they weren’t suitable matches. “Perhaps we should set up a luncheon to great the boy,” Alicent suggested making your father smile widely. She really had twisted him around her finger.

-

“I wish I could stay here all day,” you pouted as you lay your head on Harwin’s bare chest.

His chuckle vibrated through you as his arm wrapped tight around your waist, “Me too princess but I have my duties and you have yours,”

“I thought your duty was to serve me,” you sighed dramatically, pretending to try get away.

Harwin laughed, his arms moving to cage you against the bed as he moved to lay over you, “I think I serve you just fine princess,” he said, his lips moving to kiss along your jaw.

“Oh yeah?” you asked and Harwin hummed in response as his kisses grew lower.

-

As expected Borros’s son went running after only a week and now you were in another awkward family dinner however unluckily for you the children all had the cold so now you were sat in stoney silence with just your father and Alicent. “You should really think about your future dear,” she said with a fake sweet smile, “We worry for you,”

Instead of replying you grabbed your wine, drinking a hefty sip of it. Viserys sighed, “Alicent is right dear. You must marry. At this point we’re going to have to start considering marrying you to a tree!” he said, flinging himself back in his chair. “Honestly what even happened between you and the boy?”

-

The days that followed were awkward to say the least. Alicent walked around smug as all hell and your father continued to sulk. You decided enough was enough and when Alicent went out to the sept you decided to track your father down. Unsurprisingly you found him staring over a model of the city.

“Father?” you greeted, walking closer to the tired looking man, “May we talk?”

“Of course, sweet child,” he said, nodding for you to sit beside him before sighing, “You know I worry for you?”

“I do father, and I do appreciate it,” you lied but did your best to look sympathetic to your clueless father, “but I was thinking. Well. I found another match you see father,” you spoke, and his head perked up as he waited for you to finally spit it out, “He’s sweet and kind and his family is well respected. You even like his father, and I was just thinking- “

“Out with-it child,”

You took a breath before finally asking, “Have you considered Harwin Strong yet father?” Viserys sighed, his eyes turning away but you continued, “Think about it! I’d be able to be at court and help Helena with her studies. Plus, you have four more children so four more matches. You already have the Velaryon which secures the crownlands. Harwin and I would secure the Riverlands. Then after you betrothed Helena, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron you will have six of the seven kingdoms on your side. Your reach will go far especially if our children do the same,”

“You want to dilute the blood of old Valyria?” he asked, sounding exhausted as he spoke.

“No father, only strengthen it,” you said, moving to hold his hand, “Besides there is no other Targaryen or Velaryon to wed unless uncle daemon is brought back from exile- “you said but your father raised his hand to hush you.

He paused for a moment before nodding, “I will think about it. but for now, leave me. I have a lot to consider,”

“Thank you, father,”

-

Apparently Alicent must have missed this chamber meeting because somehow the news came back finally in your favour. Harwin would be your husband. You were so happy when your father told you that you instantly hugged him before rushing to find Harwin however that night at dinner Alicent shot you many dirty looks.

Finally, you had undermined her. you’d won. Well, that’s how it felt at first, but her glares began to sink into your skin till it itched. As the dinner ended, she tapped her cup with her fork, “A toast to my dear sweet daughter,” she smiled at you making your father beam, “May she have a marriage like ours,” she said, holding his hand tightly but you felt your stomach flutter.

“Here, here,” your father said, standing to kiss your cheek.

Alicent did the same, her arms twisting round your back into a bony hug, “Do not forget yourself darling,” she whispered sweetly in your ear, “You don’t win that easily,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[ak0bt]

Call me strange, but I really like the idea that both Bruce and Selina do NOT want Helena being dragged into the whole "Batman" BS, but mostly Selina. I mean, with everything she went through when she was younger, I see her saying to Bruce, "Make her a Robin, and I'll make World War 2 look like a tea party!" Bruce, also I can see being more hesitant upon making her a Robin since she is his daughter, and I can see Bruce wanting her to be a Robin. But I can see him buying her some Batman merch and Selina giving him a look.

Source: JSA the Golden Age (2022)

Also, hot take: and say what you want IDC: Helena is the superior child of Bruce. Damian I've never liked, I always hated him he was from a relationship which was just about sex and also DC really wanna villainise Talia because sure.(thanks Grant Morrison or whoever did it), Helena is a more interesting case since her parents are built on a relationship of overcoming trauma and forgiveness (at least Earth 2)

[dchuntress]

BRO IS SUCH A MAD HATER 😡😡

Yesterday I was Charlie Karnage, street punk

(Wonder Woman #286)

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS

Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 

They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 

He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 

Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 

He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 

“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”

Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”

The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 

Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 

Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?

Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”

She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 

“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 

“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”

Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 

Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”

Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”

“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 

The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 

When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 

Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 

I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 

And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 

Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”

He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 

When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”

Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 

Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 

If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 

Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 

Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 

He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.

As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.

When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 

Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”

Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”

You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”

“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 

“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”

Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”

You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”

“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”

You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”

Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 

“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 

Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”

Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 

Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 

You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”

A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”

You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”

You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”

He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”

“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 

“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”

“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 

“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 

“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 

He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 

You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”

A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 

“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 

“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”

You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”

Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”

You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”

“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”

You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 

Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”

Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.

It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.

-

Three weeks later…

Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 

He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.

But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 

Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 

Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 

And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 

And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 

He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 

And he knew things would be okay.

-

Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.

Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?

[cheezritsu]

The story of how you and Reo Mikage became friends isn’t overly exciting, but it’s a necessary tangent. A precursor, really.

Reo is a collector of impossible things. Call it a byproduct of being rich. His favorite things of all are the things he can’t have. He plays soccer as a dream; a sport he has no business being in as it brings no value to his future fortune. His best friend is a reclusive giant who seems to barely tolerate him. Which, eh. Nagi is his treasure—he’s the person that never bullshits him, the person who says what he’s thinking no matter what. Nagi feels like a compass the same way you do: if Nagi truly hates it, it’s probably worth letting go.

You and Nagi are alike in so many ways: you’re something he took the time to dig in the dirt for, only to polish it and realize it’s precious. A friend he shouldn’t have because your social status deems it so. A treasure born from nothing but whim. Something to chase. Something he can love.

Reo Mikage loves you both, which is why when Reo meets Nagi for the first time, he makes you go to karaoke together.

He’s an actual idiot for making the quietest people he knows go to karaoke, but he lets you bring your friends to be comfortable and invites his entire soccer team for Nagi. “For” being the operative word here. None of this is for either of you. It’s all for Reo.

You don’t mind. Not really. You love Reo too. Reo escapes to you and Aiura’s dorm when he doesn’t wanna go home. Which, with the ongoing soccer drama, has been more frequent. You’re in the same class again, this time sitting next to each other. Reo really is a prince that way, protecting you from gossip and bullies, brandishing his smile the way one uses a rapier. Efficiently and lethally. Aiura also sits next to you, but it’s been the Reo show since school started.

Aiura twirls the boba straw in her drink as you stare absently at Reo. Your karaoke room is—shocker—the biggest one they have. It’s decked out in all signature silly decorations. Reo is literally standing atop the huge long table with the rest of his team, the boys loudly singing Fighting Dreamers. They’re moshing and having fun, save for the white haired boy being jostled under Reo’s hooked arm.

“Who’s Snow White?” Aiura jokes, but it’s a good nickname for him. He’s sleepy looking, with low lidded dark eyes and a neutral expression one might only get when they hit the pillow. He blinks slowly and slumps out of Reo’s grip, falling back on the bench and staying there.

“You ever met him before?”

“Nope.”

Hina and Aiura shake their drinks in the same circular motion. The syncronity feels condescending. “Reo seems chummy with him. You for real don’t know him?”

There it is. You roll your eyes. “I don’t know everyone he knows. You know how it is,” you shift your gaze back to the karaoke stage, seeing Reo bleat out the first verse of MCR’s Helena. A personal favorite of his for no reason. His soccer team is cheering relentlessly, like he’s Gerard Way reincarnated.

Reo’s lifestyle is a revolving door of people. You needn’t learn names because in several weeks time, like a micro trend, they’ll be gone.

Aiura hums. Behind her lime green manicured hand she whispers something to Hina, who whispers back.

“Streets is sayin’ that’s Nagi Seishiro.”

The name isn’t familiar. You two just shrug.

“So, another boy?”

“Another boy,” you sigh. Reo didn’t have many girl friends that weren’t girlfriends. You usually liked them, until the feeling was unrequited. They hated your presence and Reo, who was sharper than most gave him credit for, broke up with them when he found out.

“You mean more to me than they do.”

You never let the charming words coil around your heart. Reo was a smooth talker, but at his core he’s just another rich boy. And you haven’t any interest in that.

“I fucking better,” is your reply, with a hardy punch.

These days Reo usually has the company of a soccer team member, some underclass man who thinks the real resume grabber is knowing Reo Mikage. Not a bad thought, but it still makes you frown.

Seishiro Nagi may be another one of those boys. He drinks from his soda cup with a bendy straw, barely moving his neck forward to meet it. The pitch of the room skyrockets as another anime opening scrolls across the screen, and Nagi’s face creases in discomfort. With his eyes pinched closed and a scrunched nose, he looks just like a disgruntled cat. You try to swallow your involuntary giggle, but Aiura and Hina catch it.

Hina stretches her neck. “What’re you giggling about?”

“Nothing,” you garble around a mouth full of boba.

“Don’t try to distract me by grossing me out.”

Aiura narrows her eyes. If a thousand yard stare could be pointed, that’s what she does. “It’s the boy.”

“Reo?” Hina asks, and you snort.

“Since when is Reo “the boy”?”

Hina rolls her eyes. “Since you had a public meet cute in the quad?”

Phlegm probably escapes you from how hard you scoff. “We had a Mexican standoff??”

“Y’all argued at best,” Aiura defends.

“You weren’t evened there!” Aiura bats away your accusatory finger with a quick roll of her eyes. “The point still stands. Reo was never “the boy.” “

“The boy is Nagi Seishiro,” Aiura nods in the direction. Nagi’s fluffy white hair reflects all the lights beautifully, like a neon halo.

“Didn’t Reo throw this party for yall to meet?”

That premise has fully eluded you. “Damn, you’re right.”

“Well he sucks as a host. You should introduce yourself.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s leaving.”

The room is a chaotic wonderland of yelling, singing and courting. A few of the players on the team try to flirt with your friends, mostly to no avail. Reo, being the common denominator in some way, fractions his attention to everyone except the guests of honor, who have slipped out under his nose.

It wasn’t your intention to follow Nagi. You really were not going to introduce yourself. You just needed air.

You sit down on the bench just outside the room. The pulsing beat of the next song reverbs out into the empty hallway. It’s kind of soothing to be on the outside again; you’re back in the peripheral, a comfortable spot. Flipping through your phone, you found the otome game currently ruining your wallet; an American based game called The Arcana. You had daily spins to replenish, hopefully a way to get more keys for your story.

You criss cross your legs, settling in. You play the slots first, getting a few coins but no keys. The second game was always a gamble; you had four lives total, meaning four keys to potentially win. You’re good mini games. They’re fun to hone in on and lose yourself in the task. The absolutely gorgeous characters aren’t bad to look at either. You hunch forward to giggle at the little romance scenarios that play out, shutting out the world around you. Shutting out Nagi Seishiro, who stands before you.

Nagi stares at the barely visible sliver of your screen. He thought maybe you were on Instagram or Snapchat, but as it turns out you’re playing something. Something he doesn’t know.

He tilts his head trying to get a better look. Your curly hair blocks his vision of the phone. Nagi has never seen hair like yours in person. It really does look like springs; small, shiny little spirals radiating out from the top of your head. Is it soft? How could it be?

Nagi is so lost in the uzumaki like spirals of your hair that he brings the back of his hand to the top your head and skims his knuckles over it and oh-

It’s fairy soft and defying gravity. The little coil bounces, and Nagi’s about to wrap it around his finger when he looks down.

“Wh-“ your startled gasp reminds him of why he’s here. You’re looking up, and past your chin is your unlocked phone. He’s never seen those characters before; they’re beautifully drawn, and decidedly not Japanese.

“Hey, what game is that?” The same finger that was inches from your head points into your lap. Your brows scrunch.

“What?”

“The game? On your phone?” Nagi gets tired of standing and sits beside you. His thigh brushes against your bare knee and the friction feels like lava. “Is it fun? The graphics are pretty.”

Nagi finally looks at your face. He decides that if you were drawn in that art style it would suit you. Unreal, gravity defying hair, pretty eyes framed with crazy long lashes, and lovely lips with an almost two-toned saturation that draws attention, even though you’re fighting for your next words.

“It’s called The Arcana,” you say, but it’s drawn out like you’re going to say more. Nagi waits, and then hears “Did you just touch my hair?”

“Oh?” Nagi’s lips purse, like a pout but more sheepish. He didn’t think you’d noticed. Well, that was a lie, but he didn’t think you’d care. Don’t girls think stuff like that is cute?

“I’m sure some girls do, but this ain’t a petting zoo.” Shit, he said that out loud. And you’re upset. Fuck. He’s like 100% sure that you’re Reo’s friend. His best friend, the one he’s always talking about. The one he borrows books from that have those colored tabs. The one he’s always buying trinkets for. Like the little phone strap you’ve got with—who is that, is it Itadori Yuji?

“Hey!” There you go again, making Nagi feel bad for not listening. The pout reappears on his face, before he slumps back.

This feels weird. Nagi’s having…emotions now and it sucks. It’s bothersome. But, he doesn’t feel inconvenienced by you, he feels inconvenienced by himself. He’s making himself feel stupid and that’s far worse than sitting next to you.

Nagi’s head hits the wall. “M’sorry,” he slurs lazily, turning his head to properly meet your eyes. “I didn’t mean that. Your hair’s pretty, that’s all.”

Oh. The words are blunt force trauma, the head of a baseball bat butted into your sternum. The perpetual drowsiness in his voice makes it feel more like the truth; someone that tired wouldn’t have it in them to lie, right?

You swallow down the damage done to your heart. “Still doesn’t mean you can touch it without permission.”

“Hmm.” Is all he says, staring vacantly for a second. And then “well, can I?”

You’re either dumb or whipped for saying yes. One is far worse than the other. But Nagi Seishiro is gentle when he plucks out a particular curl and runs it between his fingers. Deftly, sweetly, his finger hooks onto the end of the curl and it twirls around the digit. His hands are much bigger than you initially thought. You’re going cross eyed looking at them.

“That’s cool,” Nagi says, and a small smile graces his features. His eyes are actually grey up close. Smokey, endless, and all at once those sleepy, feline like crescents. “Thanks.”

No one’s ever thanked you for touching your hair. No one’s ever been that reverent about it either. Nagi pulls his hand away like he’s finally been sated, drawing his knees up to mimick your criss crossed legs.

“M’ Nagi, by the way.” His belated introduction is funnier in hindsight. It’s very Nagi; satisfy the curiosity first, then do the regular stuff. “Reo dragged me here.”

“Me too. I’m y/n.”

“Are you going to be around more?”

Nagi’s pulling out his phone. You aren’t sure how to answer his question. You’re pretty much always around, whatever Nagi meant by that. Unless he meant more around him.

There’s a spiking heat under your cheeks, something you don’t wanna bring attention to. He seems to have forgotten your existence, looking down at the loading screen off his App Store. But he doesn’t type anything for a minute. He’s waiting.

Nagi shrugs. “You’re less of a hassle than he is.” His thumb presses up to the search icon. “How do you spell Arcana?”