#it is a blessing to see a pain slowly begin to leave the world

[kabretoss]

dinosaur kid in the 90s, never accused of being a tomboy and used to love dresses until I went 180 and rejected them when I realized they were compulsory Girl Formalwear

blissfully don't think about gender throughout most of my teens

straight because boyfriend? have a minor panic when said boyfriend comes out to me as bi. have a Homophobic Moment(tm) when I think about my boyfriend leaving me for a boy

promptly eat my words about a year later when I'm having a sleepover with my bestie at the time and the thought occurs, unbidden, "if she were down I'd have sex with her"

(never made a move on that one. though later I'll find out a couple of my Girl Crushes at the time were queer)

cautiously and tentatively start thinking of myself as bi

start discovering I enjoy wearing masculine fashion

the hammer comes down hard on that one from my mom

for the next 10+ years I dress almost exclusively in baggy pants and hoodies. i am still undoing this damage.

BUT: the next time I end up with a Bestie Crush, I make a move and it goes well (hi @cherrehc!) (I end up marrying her. like 15 years later) (we like to take our time with things)

20s are an occasional sexuality buffet (with Cherry's thumbs-up) and I confirm that yes I do enjoy sex, and yes I do enjoy it with multiple genders

still not thinking about gender: am aware by this age of Transgender People and am cool with them but I've never felt like a boy so that's not what I am, right?

(Even if, when puberty really took hold, I felt completely alienated from my secondary sex characteristics? that's normal, feeling like your body isn't yours but is a barbie's, right? I'm hot and I like being hot, so I'm a cis girl, right??? people like my tits and I like that so I must be a cis girl, right????)

at the same time find myself playing nonbinary characters in RP situations before they are in vogue in the wider community.

(reading some of my old RP logs is wild. it is all RIGHT. THERE. in text from when I was 20 and had never heard the word nonbinary.)

(I have avoided RPing men up until about this point because "I don't know how to play a guy". women are already strange to me: men must be aliens.)

(then a particular character occurs and something clicks.)

fast forward to my early thirties. one of my best college friends is on T, has been calling himself a male name for years, and comes out first as nonbinary and then as a man.

wait.

wait.

wait.

if I'm not a girl I don't have to be a boy? I don't have to be a boy to not be a girl? well that's closer, but what does that leave me?

I hear the word agender.

grief.

the loss of so much time. looking back on this timeline of events and feeling the most profound sense of something gained, late, not too late but still so late. It's never too late to know yourself, but you lose time. You lose the ability to experience parts of your life, ones you can never relive, as your genuine self. In my case, I also may have lost the window in which I can safely medically transition, as other health issues have cropped up since I was young.

I will never get to be a young nonbinary person: I never was, because I was never allowed to imagine myself that was.

I was a "girl". I was an alienated, lonely girl, who didn't understand why she felt, even when invited, that female spaces were wrong and strange. There are other reasons for that too, but I think a huge part is gender. I was invited repeatedly into the world of the feminine by good women in my life, but I never went there. I didn't feel the pull of it, even when I wanted the friendship and companionship that seemed to live there.

I lived in limbo. I felt like -- not a gender failure, but a kind of nothing. An empty space. a void. I didn't have something missing, I was something missing.

it's a big grief. It's ameliorated by getting to see young people living as the people they are, watching others grow up with the self-knowledge I was never allowed to come to.

I don't know where all the agender people my age are: odds are good that attrition bore them into silence or suicide, or that life has not yet introduced the opportunity for them to learn better than how they were raised, or they're (like me) just so very fucking tired and unable to build community themselves. I know a few of y'all here fall into that category and I'm quietly collectively rooting for us, here; I know one or two others from my union and animation work.

But it brings me so much joy to see younger queer communities embracing gender diversity. Treasure it. It may still be an uphill struggle, and newly dangerous in a different way to be visible, but at least you're not lost alone and blind in the dark woods thinking that sight is a myth: you have each other, and you know what you are.

LGBTQ+ folk what was your gender/sexuality pipeline?

[justauthoring]

This is the Beginning [1/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: mental and physical abuse, ableism, Buggy is a whole warning himself, you're also blind in your right eye.

Word Count: 5,963

A/N: Here it is!! The first chapter! I've already started the second chapter because I'm so excited for this series but thought I'd get the first chapter out and see what you all think!

Feel free to leave a comment, reblog or send me an ask on your thoughts! I'd love to hear them :)

Chapter One - Your Angel Eye

The day you’re born, your left eye holds the complexion of an angel.

Sparkling white, the gasps that echo around the bed of your mother are unanimous. It’s an eye that no one has ever seen before. The single eye glows in the dim lit room, ethereal and almost magical. Your mother’s nursing maid tells your mother it’s a miracle, a sign of something great. Says it’s like an angel was born that day.

Or, at least, it would’ve been had you not been born blind in your right eye.

Still white, but murky and fogged, your right eye is glaringly different from your left.

The blessing you’d been born with is instantly cursed.

And you’ve felt that curse every day since.

-

Cabaji’s grip is tight as he yanks you along. Pinching and painful, but you bear it all with no more than a wince knowing that worse will be waiting for you should you try and argue.

At least, it’s your intention not to make a fuss. But his pace is too quick for you and you don’t have the time to gather your bearings before your hip is digging into the edge of a table. It causes you to trip, losing your footing. Cabaji lets go of you in response, your world tilting as the realization that you’re going to fall dawns on you. A flash of Cabaji’s blue and white scarf flitters past your vision and you’ve no doubt that the man has slithered away before your fall could bring attention to him.

Letting out a short yelp, you expect to feel your knees dig into the hardwood of the bar floor, only you never hit the ground.

Blinking, you glance back, only then registering the hands on your waist as you meet a pair of dark-brown kind eyes staring right back at you. The man who’d caught you has the brightest smile on his face, lips stretched wide and teeth glinting in the dim light of the bar. You blink at him, taking in the straw hat on his head as you slowly push yourself to your feet, his hands pulling back in response.

“A-Are you okay?”

You hadn’t even noticed the other boy sitting with him. His voice comes out in a timid squeak of concern, eyes assessing you behind big, round glasses.

“Oh. Y-Yeah,” you mumble, voice quiet, before turning back to the boy with the straw hat who’d caught your fall. He’s still staring up at you with those eyes and beaming smile. “Th-Thank you,” you shortly bow, twisting your fingers in your grasp nervously. 

You’re about to take a step back and turn around when the boy calls out;

“What’s with the eye-patch?”

His question comes out blunt, asked in a friendly, curious town as he glances up at you. It gives you pause, body tensing as you frown down at him.

“Luffy!” His timid friend exclaims, lips parting bafflement. His eyes shift frantically from you to his friend and back, as if unsure of how you’ll respond. You don’t really respond in anyway, per say, just gape wide-mouthed down at the pair, bewildered.

Luffy just continues to grin up at you. “It’s cool!” He cheers, care-free and earnest. “Are you a pirate?”

You’ve no idea how to respond and you’re pressingly aware that the longer you take, the more angry Cabaji will be. You’re sure to already receive an ear-full, if not worse, after being stupid enough to trip over your own feet. You don’t even want to think about what will happen the more you make him wait.

“No?” Luffy pauses, for the first time his smile faltering. It’s only for a second before it returns. “Because I—”

You don’t stick around to listen.

Your body reacts on impulse and before you even realize it you’re spinning around and racing out of the bar before Luffy can finish his sentence. You don’t dare glance back to see his reaction and you hope the strange boy won’t do something as silly as try and follow you.

You’ve just made it into the turn of the alley when your arm is caught by someone. At first, you fear it’s Luffy, but when your head snaps round to look, you’re faced with the steaming expression of Cabaji staring back at you, eyes blazing.

“Does stealth mean nothing to you, you idiot?” He hisses, towering over you by the sheer height of him as you lean back, avoiding his eyes. “It’s bad enough you tripped on your own two feet, but then you went and talked to someone?”

Face twisting at the pinching grip on your arm, you bite your lip. “I-I just thanked him for catching me,” you whisper, trying to hide the shrill of pain from your voice. “I didn’t tell him anything!”

Shoving you back by the arm, Cabaji huffs; “you better of not. We can’t go back to Buggy empty-handed or with the marines after us. He’ll want his map back.”

Swallowing thickly, you hug your now free arm. You avoid Cabaji’s eye as he stares down at you, choosing to focus on your feet.

“Better not screw this up, Y/N. You remember what happened last time you disappointed Buggy, right?”

Shuddering at the memory, you quickly nod. “I won’t mess up again,” you assure, finally meeting his eyes as you nod frantically. “I promise.”

Cabaji just quirks a brow; “we’ll see.”

-

While you and Cabaji hadn’t been able to return the map to Buggy directly, you hadn’t gone back empty-handed. Of course, Cabaji was the one who got to deliver the good news while you were directed to go to your small tent and wait until Buggy came for you.

After facing a sneer or two from passing members of the crew, you’d finally made it to your tent. With a huff, you fall back onto the small cot sat in the middle of the tent, pulling your knees up to your chest as you let your head fall. You hated when you were sent on missions; it didn’t matter who Buggy paired you up with, they were awful. No one on the crew liked you and so they found it fun to torment you as much as they could. It was, however, no doubt that Cabaji was one of the worst.

The twisted acrobatic found a particular joy in causing you pain and fear.

Letting your eyes fall shut, you try to savour the moment of peace before it’s inevitably taken away. It’s a wonder to you, though, why the second your eyes fall shut you envision those dark-brown kind eyes from earlier that day. Luffy, his friend had called him. The boy with the beaming smile and a straw hat. Such a small moment and yet, it’s the first thing your brain thinks of the moment you’re given the reprieve to.

Was it because he’d caught you? Was it because he’d been kind, if not a little strange? You’re not sure, and it doesn’t matter anyways. Luffy, his friend and two others, an orange-haired girl and green-haired swordsman had stolen the map from the marines and therefore, were now targets of Buggy’s. There was only one way that ended.

“Long day then, my Angel Eye?”

You start at the voice, eyes snapping open as you suddenly find Buggy in front of you, grinning down at you with that manic smile of his. You hadn’t even heard him come in, not his footsteps or the flap of your tent… You can feel your heart start to race at the sight of him and you’re trying to ignore the tremble of your body as you meet his eyes.

“C-Captain,” you greet, biting your lip.

He sighs, as if annoyed by your stuttering. “Come now, sweetie. Surely, we’re beyond that pointless stuttering of yours.”

Frowning, you glance at your feet. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Buggy just rolls his eyes. “Look at me.”

Instantly, snapping your gaze upwards, you meet his waiting gaze.

He grins wide. “Take off that eyepatch,” he orders sharply. “You know I don’t like you hiding.”

You want to argue. You want to say no. But you know you’ll only pay if you do, so, with just a second of hesitation, you reach up with nimble fingers to pull off the black eyepatch around your eye. Within seconds, Buggy is right in front of your face, bright red-nose touching your own as he stares deeply in your right eye.

His grin is not at all warming and enjoyable as Luffy’s had been. Instead, as he stares down at you, all you want to do is crawl in a hole and hide.

“Ah, I never get tired of seeing it.” He laughs, voice pitching. “So glaringly ugly compared to the beauty of your left eye.”

Swallowing thickly, you bite back the hurt. Buggy has said much worse things about you after all.

“Captain,” you find the courage to speak, figuring he’s probably the happiest he’ll be with you in that current moment. “Are you going after the map?”

Smile falling, Buggy leans back. “Duh,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s my map.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to ignore the pounding of your heart as you ask the next question. “And… the boy—the people who has your map?”

Buggy’s face twists, as if confused by your question. “I’ll kill them,” he shrugs, like it’s the obvious answer. “Like I always do.”

Your chest tightens. You don’t know why.

Standing to his full height, Buggy places his hands on hips.

“Come on then,” he grins down at you, “it’s time to greet the townsfolk.”

-

The day Buggy had found Orange Town was the day you realized you were never going to escape his crew. 

You’d watched as he and his crew decimated the town, destroying the houses and shops and leaving nothing in their wake. They’d done it all with smiles and laughs, ignoring the screams and cries of the townspeople as they begged him not to destroy their livelihoods. 

It had taken Buggy all of ten minutes to realize you were just standing there, frozen in place. His blinded rage had been terrifying, racing towards you as he screamed and cursed at you for standing there like an idiot. 

“If you don’t start moving,” he’d hissed, “I’ll kill them all.”

Letting out a sob, you’d shaken your head in a pathetic attempt at refusal.

“Hah!” Buggy had laughed before you could respond, throwing his head back in jest. “I’m going to kill them regardless.”

“No,” you’d argued, stunning him. The word had left your lips beyond your control, blinded by your desperation. “Please, don’t.”

Realistically, it had been nothing more than a pathetic plea. Buggy and the crew wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied and you asking him definitely wasn’t going to change that.

A moment of tense and uncomfortable silence had followed. The entire island had seemingly fallen silent, the rage of the crew halted and the cries of the townsfolk paused at your small, pathetic plea. You’d watched firsthand the glint that had shifted in Buggy’s eyes as he stared you down.

In seconds, he’d grabbed a handful of your hair and begun yanking you towards the line of townspeople the crew had cornered. As you tried to pull his grip off of you, feet kicking up the dust of the ground beneath you, the townspeople started whimpering and cowering at Buggy’s approach.

Then, you found yourself forced to your knees in front of them.

Their wide, terrified eyes stare back at you. Women clutching their children who are crying, the men trying to protect them. At the front sits the mayor, eyes afraid but shoulders squared in a last attempt of defiance.

“My faithful fans,” Buggy calls out, gesturing to the townspeople who flinched back at him. “I’d like to introduce you to my most precious treasure, Y/N! Do any of you want to venture and guess what makes her so precious?”

Head bowing, your fingers dig into the ground beneath you, cutting through your skin as silence echoes.

When Buggy doesn’t receive a response, he lets out a growl and suddenly, his hands are on you. Without an ounce of gentleness, he rips the eyepatch off of your face, nails scratching against your cheek.

Instantly, there’s an echo of gasps from the townspeople.

“Ugly, isn’t it?” Buggy laughs, taking your chin in his grasp and forcing your head up, presenting you to the crowd. The action strains your neck but Buggy only pulls harder. He cruelly pets your cheek, frowning down at you as if feeling pity for your sorry state. “Not only does it take away the beauty of her other eye but she’s blind too! Hah! A beautiful freak. And a disobedient one at that.”

His eyes shift to you once more, narrowing his gaze as he tightens his grip.

You let out a cry in response, jerking in his grasp but you can’t twist yourself out of it. 

“Why shouldn’t I just kill them all?” He asks you, using his free hand to gesture at the townspeople. “Why should they get to live?”

The cries and gasps of fear in response to Buggy’s words pierce your heart. You hear the whispers of them all, some begging for mercy, others trying to console and soothe; you don’t know if it’s for others or themselves. It’s heartbreaking; innocent people who’d been forced to bow and submit to a crazed man’s will. 

Focusing on Buggy’s waiting gaze, you swallow thickly.

“B-Because,” you gasp, trying to ignore the ache of his grip. “Who… Who would watch your show?”

An echoed beat of silence follows, before Buggy blinks at you.

You use that as your chance.

“If you kill them, there’ll be no one to watch your g-great performances.”

He lets go of you, pulling back to sweep his gaze across the townspeople as you fall down, exhausted. The hand that had been on you moves to his chin, rubbing thoughtfully as the rest of the crew starts to make their way over. 

“I can’t deny you’re right…” He mumbles, nodding to himself. You and the townspeople watch with bated breath, waiting for him to say more.

A minute later, he does. With a loud clap that makes you jump in fright and a maniacal smile returning to his face, Buggy turns to you.

“It’s decided!” He cheers, stepping towards you as you flinch back. “I’ll let them live.”

A breath of relief runs through and you hear the townspeople follow suit.

“But,” Buggy continues and your breath halts. “The cost of their life is on your shoulders, my dear.”

Brows furrowing, you shake your head. “Wh-What?

Buggy crouches in front of you, shoving his face into your own as he laughs. “Everytime any one of them steps out of line, it’ll be you that pays. In whatever way I see fit. That’s the price for their lives.”

Biting your lip, you feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. That Buggy wouldn’t let it be that easy.

With strain, you push yourself up, moving so your hands are on your knees rather than crouched over into the ground. You grip your pants tightly, trying to ignore the race of your heart. You can feel the townspeople watching you, unsure, and the sneers of the rest of the crew as they laugh at your situation.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Hmm?” Buggy taunts, leaning forward as if he hadn’t heard you. “What was that, dear?”

“Okay,” you repeat, louder, meeting his eyes. “As long as you let them live.”

All you receive in response is a laugh, loud and terrifying. With one final glance down at you, Buggy spins on the spot, practically prancing away from you.

The second his eyes are off of you, you sink to the ground.

“M-Miss?”

The voice is quiet, but still you hear it. Turning your head, you find the Mayor crouched down in front of you.

“Thank you.”

You blink back at him, silent. Silent because you don’t have the heart to tell him that there was no point thanking you—you might’ve spared their lives but that didn’t mean they were in any less danger. 

You didn’t know how to tell them what a crazed monster Buggy was.

So you just don’t say anything.

-

A cry leaves your lips, knees digging into the hardwood and trying to ignore the violent shake of your body that follows at the sound of laughter.

With sweat beading on your skin and muscles aching in exhaustion, you glance at your feet the second you hear footsteps grow closer.

“Such a shame, Y/N.” Buggy coos down at you mockingly. “You still don’t have the moves perfected.”

Gritting your teeth, you huff; “that’s because you’ve never taught me them!”

A loud snap and radiating sting is what follows your outburst, a cry leaving your lips as you curl into yourself. Clutching your aching cheek, you glance up at Buggy. 

“As a member of my crew and a freak of my performance, you should know the moves.” Buggy grunts down at you, shaking his head at you like you’re a petulant child. “Such a shame too. I’m sure our audience was looking forward to the performance too, right?”

At Buggy’s words and the sign held in their direction, a cheer of forced “yes’s” follow, echoing.

Angered at the sight of the chained ‘audience’, you shake your head. “They’d like to be set free.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes up at Buggy.

Buggy’s lips curl into a sneer. You curl back instantly, seeing the crazed look in his eyes.

Taking a step towards you, his hand disconnects from his wrist, moving towards you. “I’m sick and tired of you—“

“Captain! Captain!”

Suddenly Mohji comes running in, the flap of the tent flipping up behind him as he races towards Buggy with a grin.

“What?” Buggy hisses, his detached hand inches from you as he glares at Mohji. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“We caught them,” Mohji cheers, pointing behind him. “We’ve got the map!”

-

The instant the mayor speaks up, you fear the worst.

From the back of the crowd, hidden amongst the townspeople and the rest of the crew, you’d been deliberate in avoiding calling attention to yourself. The second the crew had brought in the crate they’d used to capture Luffy and his friends, you’d made it your goal to avoid being seen. You doubted Luffy would even remember you anyways, as you’d all but ran from him.

You feared how Buggy would react too in the slim chance Luffy did recognize you.

So, despite the discomfort you felt at watching Buggy torture Luffy, you’d forced yourself to remain silence and quiet. Even if you tried to stand up to Buggy and help Luffy, you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

All that would do is get you hurt and maybe others too.

Luffy was just some boy you’d randomly met in that bar. Met isn’t even the right word. He’d stopped you from falling and had tried to talk to you, but you’d turned tail and ran the second he had.

It was best you stayed hidden and hoped that Buggy would kill them soon and then you could just forget all about Luffy and his friends.

That’s what you should do.

That’s what you intended on doing.

“Hey, kid!”

Eyes widening, you watch as Buggy races towards the crowd, grabbing a kid by the neck.

“You want to get tall fast?”

Your body moves on instinct, feet taking you forward before you can even register what you’ve done.

“Buggy!”

Halting at the sound of your voice, the crowd stills, the child still in his grasp, Buggy twists his head to glance at you. Instantly, the smile on his face twists into a frown as he glares at you. Leaning back, his grip leaves the kid as he shakes his head.

“Was wondering where you snuck off too, Angel Eye.” He growls, and you inhale sharply.

“I thought the cost of their lives was on my shoulders,” you breathe, clenching your fists in an attempt to soothe the racing of your heart. “Leave the kid alone.”

Buggy hesitates, lips parting, but before he can say anything, Luffy’s voice cuts in;

“Hey,” he’s suddenly calling, voice light-hearted and not at all the tone someone should have in the predicament he’s currently stuck in. “Aren’t you the girl from the bar? The one who ran away?”

Body tensing, you freeze in place.

So he did recognize you.

Letting out a shaky breath, you slowly turn your head to meet Luffy’s waiting gaze, watching as his squinted eyes slowly widen in recognition.

“It is you!” He exclaims, laughing. “Where’s your cool eye patch?” 

You don’t respond, terrified eyes turning back to Buggy who glances between you and Luffy.

“Please,” you choose instead to focus back on the kid, pleading. “Leave the boy alone. Let me pay the price for the mayor speaking out.” Pressing your hand to your chest, you plead.

Buggy stares at you for a moment, before letting out a loud laugh.

“I did once tell you that,” he snorts, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

He’s spinning, grabbing the kid and yanking him to his feet before you can even think to respond. You gasp in response, racing forward, but before you can reach him, Buggy has spun the boy and himself around to face Luffy.

“Boogie,” Luffy starts, “I’m warning you.”

Jerking the kid, Buggy hisses; “it’s Buggy! And you’re warning me? Now that’s a laugh.”

He pauses, and all that’s heard in response is the sound of the boy letting out a small gasp of fright.

“I said,” Buggy sighs, “that’s a laugh.”

Instantly, a chorus of forced and frightened laughter echoes.

“Buggy,” you call, “please. Don’t hurt him!”

You try to take a step towards Buggy but before you can make it a single step, your wrist is grabbed by another. You whip around in response, only to see the edge of a blade held directly at your throat. One of Buggy’s crew grins back at you.

You mentally curse yourself for being trapped so easily, useless to do anything to help the kid when the sound of Luffy yelling catches your attention.

His hands, which have been stretched wide thanks to the Gum Gum Devil Fruit he’d eaten, are slipping through the restraints holding him hostage. You watch with wide eyes and parted lips as he frees himself, falling to the ground with a thud the second his wrist slips through the cuff.

Standing, he glares at Buggy; “put him down.”

“But why?” Buggy laughs, and your eyes fall back on him in fear for the kid. “He’s having such a great time. Aren’t you, junior?”

To answer his own question, Buggy forces the kids lips into a smile. 

“Yes,” he says in a child’s voice. “The best, Buggy.”

Luffy only hesitates a second, before he’s flinging his fist back, arm stretching like rubber behind him as he bellows; “gum gum…” Then, his hand swings forward, landing a hit right on Buggy’s face. “Pistol!”

You watch in shock he’d managed to land a hit on Buggy, but no hope floods you.

You know the ability Buggy holds.

As you expect, his head detaches from his neck, falling into the lap of one of the townspeople which causes an uproar of terror, screams following in response.

“Well, well, well,” Buggy calls from the lap he’d landed on, flipping his head round so it’s straight up. “Looks like we have something else in common,” he chuckles, before returning his head to his body. The only relief you feel is the sight of him letting the kid go.

“You ate a Devil Fruit?” Luffy asks.

“The Chop Chop Fruit,” Buggy clarifies, before stepping forward. As he does, he takes off his jacket before pieces of his body begin to separate for emphasis. “So you can slice me and you can dice me, but I’ll always put myself back together again. Wanna see what else I can do?”

Attached again, you watch as Buggy raises his right arm, the hand gone.

Your eyes widen. 

“Luffy, watch—!”

It’s too late. The second Luffy’s head turns round, Buggy has already squashed the fruit in his grasp, effectively knocking Luffy out.

You watch his body hit the ground with a thud.

“Y/N,” Buggy calls, pulling your eyes on him as your whole body tenses. “Me and you need to have a little chat.”

-

“Let me out! Hey! Let me out!”

Shaking the bars of the cage, you know realistically no matter how loud you scream or hard you pull, no ones coming to get you nor are you getting free. Buggy had locked you in the familiar cage shortly after everything, locking it with a smile on his face and the promise that he’d come to set you free later.

When he felt like it.

And then you and him would hash out your “differences”, he’d said. Grinning and eyes shining with malice and intent to hurt, you’d tried to ask for his forgiveness but he’d only left you begging without a single glance back.

That had been fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago and you hadn’t heard anything or seen Buggy or a single member of the crew.

It wasn’t the first time Buggy had locked you in this cage. You could no longer keep track of the amount of times you’d been forced into the small cage for “punishment”, whether by your own actions or those of the townspeople. You hated it and that’s exactly why Buggy kept you in here, because he knew how much it terrified you to be trapped like this.

It felt worse this time, though. Worse because you knew that Luffy was in danger and potentially the townspeople too. Buggy’s insistence to go after that boy showed you he was growing bored of using you as a scapegoat every time the townspeople did something he didn’t like. You knew no matter how much he hurt you, he’d never kill you. Buggy had some sort of sick fascination with you, and if he simply planned on getting rid of you, he would’ve done it already.

The townspeople though? Luffy? He’d definitely kill them.

“Please!” You bellow, voice screeching in your desperation as you shake the door of the cage, the metal clanging against itself with no give. “Buggy!”

The only thing you’re given in response is more silence.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you bite your lip to hold back the sob that threatens to pull from your lips. You were so sick of this. So sick of all of this. Being a captive of Buggy’s, forced to be his play thing day in and day out and watching innocent people be hurt and murdered around you constantly.

You hated it.

Feeling your eyes water, you sniffle, throat burning from your screaming and hands aching with how hard you’d been pulling as you accept the fact that Buggy was going to leave you here until he wanted to free you.

And you weren’t going to get out any other way.

A few minutes of silence pass, stuck in your thoughts and trying to keep the panic at bay, before footsteps echo. You sit up immediately, twisting the small bit you can in the cage, waiting to see the familiar face of Buggy walk through the tent.

Only, it isn’t Buggy who walks in.

It’s the green-haired swordsman you’d seen with Luffy.

He pauses at the sight of you as you gape up at him.

Then, a minute later, he’s blinking; “who are you?”

A second passes, one, two, and then your lips part in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” You breath, bewildered. “Shouldn’t you be… Didn’t Buggy…?”

The man shrugs. “I was looking for booze,” he points behind himself. “I escaped.”

You’re absolutely floored.

“And Luffy?”

“He did too,” the man nods, shifting to set his hands on his swords again. You frown when you realize there’s three. “Clown guy’s defeated.”

That gives you pause. Wide eyed, you gape at him; “you defeated Buggy?”

“Naturally,” the man snorts.

Lips parting, you find no words to respond and instead, stare back at him as if he’d grown an additional head, baffled.

You don’t have to find the words though, because in the next second, a cheery voice is calling out; “Zoro!”

Luffy comes racing in through the tent in the next second, followed by the orange-haired girl. You blink, gripping the bars of your cage as you watch Luffy bound up to the man, Zoro, oblivious to the way he pulls away from him in response.

Then, Luffy’s eyes fall on you.

“Eyepatch girl!”

Zoro frowns. “She’s not wearing an eyepatch.”

“Ah, but she was!” Luffy cheers, pointing at you. “It was so cool!”

“We should hurry up,” the girl cuts in, looking unimpressed as her eyes flicker over you briefly before turning back to Luffy and Zoro. “I don’t want the marines catching up to us.”

“True, true,” Luffy nods.

“You find anything useful?” Zoro asks, glancing at the girl.

“Not really,” the girl shrugs, “most of it is just weird circus crap. Now,” she shifts to Luffy. “Can we go?”

You watch the whole conversation in astonished silence. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask them what happened, if Buggy’s whole crew was defeated or most importantly set you free. The whole nonchalance of their conversation stuns you stupid.

“Should let the girl go, no?” Zoro asks, pointing at you. You straighten when the attention is turned to you. “Or am I the only one noticing she’s in a cage?”

The girl's eyes meet yours before settling on the large lock keeping you trapped. “I found a set of keys on one of the guys. Here.” She slips past Zoro and Luffy, heading towards you. Stopping right in front of you, she starts filtering through the keys.

“It’s, uh, that one,” you point at one smaller key. “I’ve seen it before when, well, the other times I’ve been locked in here.” Your voice quiets as you finish your sentence, curling in on yourself at the attention that garners you.

The girl just nods.

In the next minute, you’re on your feet, standing in front of the three of them.

“Now can we go?”

“Sure, Nami,” Luffy grins, “just one last thing.”

He’s spinning round to face you, and then his hands are on your shoulders and his beaming smile is focused solely on you.

“Join my crew.”

Silence.

Then, “what?”

You, Zoro and Nami all echo it, voices loud, pitched and in disbelief as Luffy just grins at you.

“You were a part of Buggy’s crew, yeah?” He asks and you slowly nod. “Perfect, then you’ve already got the experience.”

“What, I—” Stumbling over your words, you shake your head. “You don’t even know my name. I mean… I was a part of Buggy’s crew. The same crew who just held you all captive! Shouldn’t that make me… like your guys’ enemy or something?”

“Nah,” Luffy waves you off. “You looked pretty miserable with him. Not to mention, we found you in a cage. Plus, I saw you stand up for that kid. That’s the kind of person I need on my crew.”

You just stare at him, then Zoro, then the girl, and though they look unimpressed, you notice they are staring back at you almost as if they expect you to come with them too.

Were any of these people normal?

“I’m a lousy fighter.”

“No problem,” Luffy shrugs. “Zoro can teach you.”

“Don’t volunteer me,” Zoro huffs, bopping Luffy on the head.

He doesn’t argue though.

“I’m a freak.” You say, trying to come up with a reason why asking you to come with them was a terrible choice. You figured since Buggy had spent enough of his time reminding you of the fact, surely Luffy would agree.

Luffy shakes his head. “Your eyes are cool! They don’t even match,” he laughs, “and I like your eyepatch too.”

“Luffy,” the girl hisses at him, lowering her voice. “Have some tact. She’s… blind in her right eye.”

Luffy turns to look at her, before turning back to you, lips parted and head tilted as if in curiosity.

“It’s true,” you mumble, pressing your hand to your eye, covering it from sight. You definitely needed to find your eyepatch. You hated not having it on. “I can’t see anything with this eye. Another reason why you shouldn’t want me on your crew. I’m… I’d be no help…”

You don’t dare glance at any of them, fearing the looks you’d receive in response. You didn’t want to see their pity and you definitely don’t want to see the disgust on their faces at your disability.

“That—!”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go, right?” Zoro cuts off whatever Luffy had been about to say. You meet his eyes in disbelief, not expecting him to be the one to speak up before frowning and giving him a nod. “Might as well come with us then.”

Staring at him a moment longer, you let your eyes fall on the girl, who simply shrugs back at you before turning back to Luffy’s beaming expression. He nods at you excitedly, eagerly urging you to agree.

Not knowing how else to decline and knowing deep in your heart you don’t want to, you nod.

“O-Okay.”

-

After Luffy had backtracked to grab a single bun of the food the mayor and town had tried to offer them, you hesitate on following.

Your eyes follow him as he jumps up on the boat and you see the three of them staring back at you, waiting. But your feet won’t move. There’s a moment where you just stand there, before you turn, bowing your head down and saying the words you’ve wanted to say since that day Buggy had landed on Orange Island.

“I’m so sorry.”

Eyes falling shut, you grip the sides of your shirt, waiting for the anger you expect to receive from the townspeople. You’d been a part of the crew that had tortured them and destroyed their town; you wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to kill you themselves.

When you don’t hear anything, you slowly glance up at them.

Only to see them all smiling down at you.

“We should be the ones apologizing,” the mayor dismisses, shaking his head at you as he urges you to stand back up. “And thanking you. You saved our lives that day.”

Shoulders falling, something warm floods you at his words in the midst of the astonishment you feel.

“We owe you a great deal, little lady.” The mayor nods, and before you can say anything, the whole town is bowing to you. They move in sync with each other, heads bowed and you can hardly believe your eyes. “Thank you.”

“I… Oh!” Hands falling to your lips, you ignore the way your vision blurs through your watery left eye, shaking your head. “Please, it’s okay! I’m… I’m just relieved you’re all free now thanks to them.”

They slowly stand up, and you let your gaze sweep across the crowd.

“I wish you the best of luck with your journey,” the mayor smiles down at you. “And hope to see you again someday.”

You smile at him one last time, stepping back as you wave to the townspeople. They return your wave, sending you all off with smiles and wishes of good luck.

Then, as you reach the boat, you find Luffy grinning back down at you.

“Let’s go!”

[thelov3lybookworm]

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… ���)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

[jmliebert]

how your lover would grieve you (bg3 headcanons)

watch out for angst!! and dramatics...

Wyll

Wyll would carry on with his duties—his body present, but his spirit often elsewhere. His heart would drift to you, again and again. Those around him would notice the change: no more smiles that reached his eyes, no more easy laughter or graceful charm. He’d move through life like a man lost in a dream.

For a time, he’d endure quietly. But gradually, he’d begin to live again—not because the grief lessened quickly, but because he knew you would have wanted that for him. He still had good to do, people to protect. And while you remained in his heart, the pain would soften.

Eventually, he might find love again. Wyll has so much tenderness to give, and he would treat any new partner with gentle reverence. But it wouldn’t be easy at first. The halls around him would feel quieter—heavier. Even the household staff might whisper behind closed doors that he was never quite the same after you passed. For a long time, his charm would seem more like a mask than a truth. Still, slowly, he would begin to let someone in.

Yet, unknowingly, he would see them through the echo of you. And if he were ever blessed with a child, he’d speak of you with a distant, wistful smile—a thousand-yard stare—and tell them stories of your courage and brilliance.

Gale

Grief would hollow Gale from the inside out. At first, it would be chaos. He would retreat into his "tower", his haven turning into a prison. He'd lie in bed for days, unshaven and unkempt—looking as though he had aged a decade in mere days. His books untouched. The most damning sign of his despair? He couldn’t even read. He’d turn pages, but the words would blur, his mind drifting endlessly back to you.

If not for his friends—and for Tara with her relentlessness at the top of it—he might have faded entirely. They would force him into the sunlight, into purpose. Teaching, advising, creating… none of it would feel the same. But still, it would keep him from crumbling. So he came back to teaching, but sadly lost his spark when it came to it.

He would likely never remarry, never truly seek another. Instead, he'd write—a book of poems in your memory, quietly tucked onto his shelves, never published. At night, he might speak to the silence as if you were beside him. Sometimes he’d conjure your likeness—not as a ghost, but as a remembrance. A comfort.

Halsin

Surprisingly, Halsin’s once vibrant appetites would vanish. For a time, there would be no lovers, no flirtation—only quiet reflection and the relentless trainings till his muscles trembled and he was out of breath. He would throw himself into his work, perhaps to cope, perhaps to forget. He would blame himself for not coming to you sooner. For not cherishing you more when time still allowed.

In time, he would come to accept your death. He would understand it as a part of the natural order—something he has preached so often. But this knowledge has a bitter taste. When you live as long as he does, saying goodbye starts to feel like the price of love. And it feels so lonely.

Eventually, he would return to his open way of life—but it would never be the same. You would linger in his thoughts, in his stories, and he’d find himself telling lovers about you. Not to compare, but because forgetting you is simply not possible. You were one of a kind, and he knew he would never find someone alike. And the realisation left his hear feeling even more heavy.

Even years later, he would still see you in the rustle of leaves, in the bloom of a flower, in the golden light of dusk. And each time, his heart would ache—but he would smile too. Because in the beauty of the world, he finds you yet again.

Astarion

To say your death devastated Astarion would be an understatement so cruel, it would feel like mockery. He would retreat from the world entirely, isolating himself with a bitterness that only grief could sharpen. He always knew world is shit, but you gave him hope and then and then he lost you just like that.

He wouldn't become like Cazador—never that. But his charm would fade into something colder, and his presence would carry a quiet warning: stay away. There would be rage, too. Shattered objects. Screams into the void. One moment, he would curse you for leaving; the next, he would sob your name and whisper that he loved you more than anything in the world.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

hello, you can find more of my works about bg3 ♡here♡

also, would you like me to write one of this characters in-depth?

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (IV)

Chapter 4 : ‘For he gave all his heart and lost’

Hi, everyone!!! Chapter 4 is here! Lots of angst in these first chapters, but we need to get the plot fully plotting!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2888

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Never Give All the Heart

Never give all the heart, for love Will hardly seem worth thinking of To passionate women if it seem Certain, and they never dream That it fades out from kiss to kiss; For everything that’s lovely is But a brief, dreamy, kind delight. O never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. And who could play it well enough If deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, For he gave all his heart and lost.

W.B. Yeats

You decided to meet in a pub. Frank was staying with his brother for now, you were keeping the flat you used to share. It felt empty without him, filled with blank spaces. Clothes missing in the dresser, a shelf unused in the bathroom, empty spaces on the bookshelves. Every time you looked up while you ate, you expected to see his face and found nothing but a wooden chair instead. And it was killing you slowly, how much you missed him, how much you missed your lives tangled together, sharing space and habits and everything in between.

Frank’s brother’s place wasn’t an option to meet up, and the home he left seemed unfitting, you reckoned that it had witnessed enough farewells already. So, a neutral land it was, a pub you knew but had spent few nights at. Laughter had been shared, along with kisses and drinks, but only a few times, nothing worth crying over.

Only, when you stepped into the pub, easily spotted Frank sitting there, on a chair at a small table with one spot left empty for you opposite him, you could feel the tears rising to your eyes…

It had been two weeks, since Frank had left, and you were still in shock. Reality had started sinking in, you were beginning to understand what it truly meant to lose him. You were beginning to realise that he was truly gone. And what a terrifying thought that was…

He smiled when he saw you approaching, welcoming, like he was genuinely happy to see you. Was he though? Then why did he leave?

You had broken up your engagement, you had to announce the news to your family, had broken down on the phone with them as you did so. You had warned all the people you had invited that this was over, that you and Frank were breaking up, that there would be no wedding, after all. The humiliation was almost as painful as seeing him again. Almost as dreadful as the knowledge that you would not hesitate to take him back, you were hoping to make him change his mind still… that was how desperate you were to get your life back on track, to set it how it should be again.

You said your hellos, you smiled to each other, he seemed emotional to see you as well. You sat down and took off your jacket like you were on autopilot. Something happening outside your own mind, your own chest, your own body. You expected him to tell you about his day, to say something about sport and any of his interests, to order some drinks for you both and to ask you what you wanted to eat tonight after you got home together. Instead, he smiled, asked you if you wanted a drink, and then he looked at you in silence for a moment.

“You look well,” he said, and you congratulated yourself for the efforts you had put in earlier that evening to look somewhat presentable.

“Thanks. You too.”

It was true, he looked surprisingly well, considering he had shattered the last six years merely a couple of weeks ago.

“Thank you for meeting me tonight, it means a lot.”

“Sure, I… I’m glad you called to ask for this. I… I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

There was so much hope within this stupid, lovesick heart of yours after those words…

You gave him a weak smile, imagined him apologising and asking for forgiveness and begging you to take him back after this crazy mistake of his…

Instead, he asked you about work, you asked him about his day, you chatted for a while, dragging the moment along as if you knew already that things weren’t meant to last anyway, that he was about to break your world again, that you were wrong to hope…

… and eventually, you got to the reason behind his call, to what he wanted to get out of this conversation.

“Look, Y/N… you know you’re important to me. So important… I’m sorry about the wedding. And I’m sorry to have ended things the way I did. I reckon that I should have handled this better, ease you through it better so you wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Every word was a slide from hope to pain, a slope that got steeper and steeper, that pushed you towards the edge of a cliff, to a pit you knew you would fall into because you loved him too much not to.

“I really hope you won’t hate me. I… I know that it was sudden, I know that it might have looked like a shocking decision, and it was, even to me. I really meant to marry you when I proposed, but then, I… I just realised that we weren’t meant for each other. We weren’t meant to spend our entire lives together. And I think that’s okay, really. I still have so much love for you, it’s just… it’s just not strong enough for us to go through with this wedding. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you nodded, trying hard not to cry.

He didn’t love you enough…?

“It’s just… Sometimes, it’s a lot to be with you, to take care of you. It’s not that you’re too much to handle, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re grand, Y/N, you really are. But your career takes a lot of space, you’re moving regularly, and you just… I don’t know. I just want something else, I think. I want… I want someone else.”

He heaved a sigh, rubbing at his forehead like he was the one breaking, like he was the tired one, like it was he who suffered when you struggled not to cry, when you felt the pain of rejection and heartbreak wash over you all over again.

“I still care about you, Y/N. It doesn’t mean that all of my love for you is gone, it only means that… I… I can’t be with you romantically anymore. Do you understand? But I… Y/N, I don’t want you out of my life. I care about you too much, you are too important to me. So, would you… What would you say if I asked for us to remain friends?”

Friends… the word echoed in a mixture of horror, pain and disappointment.

Friends… you should have been about to get married, engaged, in love… and instead he wanted friendship?

It was such a blow to your pride, your self-esteem. But then you thought about it, and a glimmer of hope was alit again, foolish and sickeningly in denial.

But if you remained friends, you would keep in touch, you would keep on seeing him.

And if you remained friends, perhaps you could make him see reason, show him that you were the one he belonged with. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you didn’t talk or see each other.

Friends…

He reached for your hand across the table, sneaking his arm between his drink and yours, hand warm against your cold fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. You’re so important to me. I just… don’t think that it would work out for us if we keep on having a romantic relationship, that’s all. It doesn’t change the fact that I care about you. So much, Y/N…”

You stared at his blue eyes, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through. He was making a mistake, and that was all there was to say about it.

“Okay,” you breathed out, the word escaping without you even noticing its passing of your lips.

He raised a surprised eyebrow, and yet he had a relieved expression painted over his features.

“Really?”

“Yeah, okay. We can still be friends.”

“Oh, Y/N! You can’t imagine how happy I am to hear you say that!”

Happy…

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, forced a smile.

You would make him see reason, he was making a mistake, nothing more…

Things would get back to normal, and you would have your life back. You would have your life back…

She wanted to come over, Andrew wanted to refuse at first. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his partner, of course he longed for her company. Except, tonight, he was busy. Busy sorting out his thoughts, busy worrying about the sadness that surrounded his colleague, busy worrying about his father, whose medication had been slightly changed, busy trying to write and coming with nothing but a blank page.

It used to be easier, to fill up blank spaces. When he was younger, in his late teens to early twenties, he filled notebooks after notebooks with song lyrics and poems. When Sam and Andrew had met, it was so easy for him to write about love. He was awestruck by her all the time, and he still was, in a way. But then they had grown out of the naïve phase of youth, into proper adults; ones that thought about rent, about food, about taxes, about sacrifices, about laundry and grocery lists and the work to be done the next day. She had turned him down when he had offered for them to move in together, had always refused to speak about marriage. And Andrew tried hard to hide how much her reaction saddened him. It turned off a switch in him, the words were harder to find these days. Growing up, or rather, starting to grow older, that was tough work, tricky work. The kind that left all poetry behind.

He still wrote, the two books he had published were proof, as well as the poems he published regularly in journals. But these days, he couldn’t get a word down, and how was he supposed to communicate and let his feelings out when he struggled so much saying them out loud? Speeches had never been his strong suit, it was through the mask of metaphors, the rhythm of rimes, the cadence of alliterations that he managed to express himself. It was therapeutic, in a way.

But in the past few weeks, Andrew had not written a word. He was too worried for that. There was something off with Sam, and he didn’t know what it could be. It made him anxious. He tiptoed around her a lot these days, worried about what would happen if they started fighting over anything, no matter how small the issue. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t write, he wasn’t sure… No matter the reason, his sudden inability to produce anything even vaguely decent made him spiral into doubts and anxiety. He didn’t need that to second-guess his decisions, to doubt his own worth…

He heaved a sigh, closing his laptop, checking the time. Almost 9 p.m, Sam would soon be there. As if on cue, Elwood barked twice when a knock on the door broke the silence of Andrew’s flat.

She was early, as per usual, when he was always late to everything. It annoyed her to no end.

Andrew went to open the door, welcomed Sam with a forced smile, but she seemed not to notice. She merely hummed a hello, let him kiss her cheek, before walking inside the flat. Elwood approached, unhurried, looked up in hope to be petted. Sam granted him a few scratches, before turning away. The dog merely huffed, and walked over to Andrew, rubbing his side against his human’s leg, looking for the attention he craved for. Andrew granted it to him easily.

“How was your day, baby?” he asked Sam in a sweet tone, but she shrugged, waiting for Andrew to move out of the hallway and into the living room.

“Not much. You?”

“I’m fine, yeah.”

He wanted to talk about his research, and how he wanted to start writing a new article, how he was almost done planning out his class for Yeats’s poetry, how sad you looked still, how worried he was for his family these days. Instead, Sam claimed the conversation, and he didn’t try to fight against it so he could speak again.

“I wanted to talk to you, Andy.”

“Sure, what’s up?” he asked back, standing straighter, quitting Elwood’s petting and following Sam to sit on his sofa.

She seemed nervous, in a way she rarely was around him. He was nervous too now, had a bad feeling about all of this.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she spoke in a weak voice, he reached for her hand to reassure her.

“Straightforwardly,” he answered with a smile.

He pushed back a strand of hair behind his ear, tiredly adjusted his glasses. Slowly, she nodded, took a deep breath before speaking.

“Andy… you know how important you are to me. You’re… you’re the first man I ever truly loved, the first person I could see myself with on the long run. And I care about you, about your happiness… I care so much. And this is very hard for me to do this to you, to us, but…”

She took another deep, slow breath, and Andrew could see the tears in her eyes, the way she struggled to hold them back. He knew what was coming, didn’t want to think it true, but it was.

He knew his world was about to get shattered before she spoke the words he dreaded.

“I’ve been happy with you, genuinely happy. But this… I’m so sorry, Andy, but I think we need to break up.”

Andrew blinked at her, his brain refusing to understand her words, refusing to work now. He forced himself back to the present, forced himself to repeat her words.

Break up…

“What… What do you mean? What do you mean ‘break up’? You… you want us to take a break?”

“No, Andy. I want us to break up. For good. I’m so sorry.”

“But, I… I love you. We’re… we’re good together, we… we belong together.”

“I’m sorry, Andy. But I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

“What triggered this? Did I do something wrong? Are you angry at me? I… I can change for you. I can make things better. I can make you happy, do whatever you want me to do…”

“I’m sorry… there’s nothing to do. It’s not… it’s not you. I just feel like… we’re not on the same page, anymore. We were so young when we got together, we’ve grown into different people. I… I’m sorry.”

“Why now? What happened?”

“Nothing…”

“I know you, Sam. I know you better than anyone. I know you’re lying. What happened? What triggered this?”

“Andy…”

“I don’t want you to leave… we can make things work!”

“We can’t…”

“We can make efforts, we can…”

“I don’t want to, Andy. I’m sorry. I just… I love you, but… not enough, anymore.”

These were the words that made him break, that turned his desperate tone into silence, his begging eyes into teary ones. He started crying.

She didn’t love him anymore…

Not enough…

“But I love you…”

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

He let tears overcome him, drown him into silence. Sam was crying as well, but not as violently.

“Why? Why now?”

“I just… nothing, I just…”

But she fell silent, and Andrew wasn’t a fool.

“Is there someone else?”

She looked away, looking guilty.

This couldn’t be happening…

“We met just about two months ago. I just… I think I’m falling in love with him. And if I can love him, it means I don’t love you the way I should anymore…”

He buried his face in his hands.

This could not be happening…

He refused to ask her if she had been having an affair, Andrew knew he didn’t have the strength to hear her answer.

He was falling; falling into an endless pit and he would die once she would have left with the ground in her care.

They fought after that, he tried to hold her back. And perhaps she didn’t deserve it, but Andrew was in love, and he had thought for years that she was the one, that them, their couple, was the constant element in his life. He fought for her, there was nothing he could do. When she said she would only be happy with someone else, he let her go.

He cried all night, called in sick the next day. He answered your worried email, explaining what had happened in a clear, concise way that left out any detail. You said you were sorry. It didn’t make him feel better at all. In the evening he got so drunk he had no memory left of that night in the morning. For a moment he thought none of this had happened, the pain through his skull was too vivid for that. But then reality came back, and when he hurried to the bathroom to throw up, he wasn’t sure whether he was sick because of the remnants of alcohol in his system or because of the pain of losing her.

When she texted a few days later asking if they could still stay in touch, Andrew was too heartbroken to see the red flags. He answered yes, dreamt of having Sam back in his bed, thought about ways to win her over again, and fell asleep that night out of exhaustion and too many tears.

[jeoxnstar]

Rant

This year has honestly been one of the hardest I've gone through. Not the hardest, but definitely up there. I don’t even know where to begin. I went through a breakup that kind of shattered me. You know that feeling when someone becomes a big part of your world, and then one day they’re just… not? That empty space they leave behind hits you in waves, especially when you least expect it.

And on top of that, I lost a lot of people I called friends. Some just drifted, some walked away, and some straight-up showed their true colors—and not in a good way. It’s wild how many people will smile in your face and still not have your back when things get real. Finding out who’s real and who’s just around for convenience? That was a harsh lesson. But I learned it. I had to.

I also spent a lot of time dealing with stuff from my past. Pain I thought I had already moved past. Trauma I thought was healed. Turns out, it wasn’t. And some days, it felt like I was drowning in it. Like no matter how far I thought I’d come, I still ended up face-to-face with the version of me I’ve been trying to escape. There were days where I didn’t even recognize myself—where I felt like I was just going through the motions, pretending to be okay.

But here’s the thing—this year didn’t just take from me. It gave, too. And I don’t want to forget that.

I gained so much clarity. I learned what I want and don’t want in the people around me. I learned that being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. I found peace in my own company. I found strength in silence, in setting boundaries, in saying “no” without feeling guilty about it. I found out that losing people can be painful and a blessing at the same time.

And maybe the most important thing—I started seeing myself differently. My confidence grew. Slowly, but steadily. I started looking in the mirror and not picking myself apart. I stopped seeing someone disgusting or unlovable or “not enough.” I started seeing me. And that version of me? She’s real. She’s flawed. She’s healing. But she’s strong as hell.

I’m not all the way there yet. I still have days where I backslide, where the sadness creeps in, where I doubt myself. But I don’t live in that space anymore. I visit it, feel it, and keep moving.

So yeah, this year broke me a little. But it also built me back differently. And honestly? I’m kind of proud of who I’m becoming.

[blissfulalchemist]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged for last line by @statichvm (which is just below from and Alma piece) but considering the last wip piece I had I figured I'd follow it up with the good parts. I will have to report that sadly Clídna will never get revenge on those men. But she can in our hearts and frankly that counts for something. Tagging: @shallow-gravy @shellibisshe @chyrstis @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @belorage @voidika @lasersinthejungle and anyone else that wants to! allusions to sa

Knowing that her family has moved on finally in peace doesn’t help either, their absence more acute and making her want to reach out for anything to keep them close to her, and performing the blessing could help in that…if only for a little while.

She coughs up blood sliding down the wall, finding it hard to catch her breath as the throbbing begins again. The world spins, stomach rolling with it, as the shaking begins in her arms and legs. As the tears begin Clídna can’t decide what hurts more, her half attached nose or the confined sobs. The sting from whatever piss poor excuse of what could pass as wine Wyvern’s poured on her face doesn’t register with the flashes of the men in Ironholm mixing and worsening what just transpired. The memories of when they first captured her and she found out she wasn’t that strong. How that first week was one man after another, but her screams were one in a chorus of them as they decided where each woman would end up. How she ever managed to convince them to put her in their army when she could hardly fight any of them off….

She smacks the gloved hand reaching for her, and nearly biting it when it tries once more. “Clídna, I need to hold your nose back in place,” he says, removing his gloves, holding his hands up for her. “I’m not going to hurt you, see? I just want to help.” Eyes flit back and forth between his exposed hands and level blue gaze, the black brand on his cheek coming into focus. “If you want to hold it in place that’s okay too, but I will need to get closer.”

“Wyvern,” she exhales, watching as he nods, choking back the sobs and fear that come too easily in this state she let herself get in. “I-. I don’t-.”

“We can talk about it more once I’ve fixed your nose.”

Fingers delicately touch the hanging appendage wincing at the pain. He moves slowly, her eyes never leaving his hands and their movement. She grimaces with the setting of her face, teeth grinding as warm fire begins to surround his hand. The orange and blue tendrils braid and latch themselves onto edges of skin, spreading beneath the surface as they seek out bone. Slowly some pain returns as his healing magic stitches skin to skin and bone to bone together. When he lets go of her face the pain begins to dull, though not completely as the fire retreats. She touches around her nose finding it warm and swollen still, left in the bruising stage. A welcome outcome, especially considering that her breaths are laced with copper and will be for some time she suspects.

“There.”

“Thank you, Wyvern.”

“You’ve yet to see how it looks.”

“I don’t give a shit so long as I still have a face to look at.”

“What even happened, Clídna?”

“A lot. Mostly told him to fuck off in quite a few different ways these past few days.”

“Clídna-.”

“Listen, you are most of my impulse control and you weren’t here.” Knees brought to her chest suppressing the pounding of her heart she begins to rock, “I’m sorry. I just-.”

He lets out a deep breath, gathering their things with a small shake of his head. “Come on. We’re both done for the day.” Wyvern leads her to the barracks, limbs getting heavy with each step, the cots looking like clouds as she overlooks the room. Wyvern grabs a pillow and what hardly passes as a bed roll, merely fabric that was a single step away from what they used as blankets, lighter clothes and the softer of the two threadbare blankets rolled inside. He looks around, putting a finger to his lips leading them out the back door. Flat against the outside wall, alert eyes scan while held breaths further shadow them as a few soldiers make their way to their bunks. Grabbing hold of her hand, he pulls her towards the rear shadows of the storage house, watching as those on duty there leave for the night out the front. They slip inside, finding their corner stacking a few more crates to shield them from prying eyes.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” he whispers, sitting her in the corner. She nods letting her head fall against the wall, eyes fighting to stay open while she’s alone. She has to stay awake, just until he gets back. It doesn’t matter that no one knows of their little haven. Doesn’t matter that Wyvern never keeps her waiting for long. Has to stay awake just….in….case…. 

A blink slips through and he’s reappeared holding onto a rolled bunk mattress. Not the cleanest and nothing new, but still more comfort than the thin fabric that kept her from the ground in their barracks. “Saw they got new ones and tossing some of the old ones out.”

“A life saver….” He gives a snort laying it out and handing over the lighter clothes to sleep in. “Think we’ll be able to sneak it back to our beds.”

“Don’t know. Maybe.”

She fluffs out her hair once the weightless linen shirt and shorts are on, “Aren’t you going to change?”

“I will.” He pats the bed, eyes scanning the sunsetting storage house as she settles herself next to him, back to the wall. Her eyes finally lose the battle as he covers her with the blanket. The darkness is instantaneous and steady, feeling his warmth leave only briefly before laying next to her the rest of the night. A warmth she reaches for and something he indulges in, putting an arm around her and pulling her closer. It's not the first time she’s allowed him to hold her like this, but it is the first time in years that she does not relive one of the many nightmares of her past. A rarity to wake with the morning light feeling slightly refreshed, and before Wyvern awakes.

Despite the calm neutrality of his features Clídna can see the way his eyes dart back and forth. Similar pattern to the one she’d see on Jill’s face when keeping watch, always there was crying to follow no matter how much comfort Clídna gave to make them stop if only for a few minutes. She doesn’t suspect Wyvern would wake in tears, or even wish to talk about it, but its still hard to watch him suffer all the same. Will you feel comforted the way she did, Wyvern?, Clídna wiggles to have their faces directly across one another, arm wrapping around him, putting her forehead against his. Lips brush one another as she quietly sings a Northern lullabye, ending it with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He shifts and she finds herself guiding him to lie against her, fingers running through his hair. Wyvern finally settles with slow exhale, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he does so.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Travelling the world to explore and learn, your suprised when you find yourself in the company of the Targaryen's. But one amongst them formed a closer bond than the others, but was that a blessing, or a curse? Your history and family are questioned by everyone, and in time you aswell. But what could this mean? And is your future with the greens? Or the black? That's all going to come to light....especially learning about your capabilities....even with the most deadly of creatures.....

(P.S. Anything in red is a character speaking in high valyrian)

Contains: explicit language/threatening behaviour/minors do not interact

Part 3/3

You were up bright and early the next morning, feeling full of energy and positivity from your wondeful night before with Aemond. With him being The Primce Regent now, he was up before you, so you did wake up by yourself. But in your haste to leave the castle to see if your grandmother had sent you a letter, you passed by Aemond and Criston in a flash. But not too quick to give him a cheeky smile, and him you. It was about a 30 minute walk to the letter rooms in Kings Landing, but you were just so excited to read your letter that you practically ran into the city, people being simply a blur in your vision. Out of breath and face flushed like the colour of a pink rose, you make it to the post rooms and enter to see the man who gave out the letters.

"Good morning Tarren!"

"Good morning to you Y/N! My, your in a positive mood today aren't you?"

"I am indeed! I had a wonderful night last night, and now I'm eager to read a letter that I'm veerry much hoping has been sent to me"

"It has indeed, hear we are. I hope you have a pleasant day"

"You too Tarren! Bye!"

And as quick as a flash, you were out of the door, just as others were queuing up to enter too. You started to run again, not in the direction of the castle, but to the edge of the city where there was this beautiful little private cliff edge, overlooking the sea that sparkled like sapphires and diamonds. Noone else seemed to go there, and it was were you always went to read from your grandmother. The last time you wrote to her was mere days ago, and you told her about your involvement with the Targaryen's, and your feelings towards Aemond. You were eager to know what she would say in response. Finaly reaching the spot, you sit on the grass overlooking the water, and smile like a little child as you look over the sealed letter. You felt so happy to read it....until you noticed something different about it. That's strange? This wasn't your grandmother's handwriting? But it's been sent from your old home, her home, the brothal. Did she fall ill? Or was she simply unable to write and asked someone to do it for her? No, certainly not, she took pride in her writings. So what was this? Very quickly that happy and bubbly feeling you had before, started to feel different. Like your stomach dropped and an anxiousness was looming over you. Your hands shake when they open the letter, slowly you pull it out...and begin to read...

Dear Y/N

This is Coral, the head lady in your Grandmother's brothal. I'm terribly sorry to inform you about the passing of your Grandmother. I was there when she passed away, it was quick and she felt no pain, she fell asleep in her bed and simply didn't wake up. Again, I am so very sorry to tell you this tragic news in this letter. But you should know she spoke about you every day and loved reading your letters you sent her. The night before she passed away, she informed me that she had sent a letter to your uncle, and it was a matter of urgency that you find him and read it. It explains everything she never told you, she said it was imperative that the letter didn't fall into any of the Targaryen's hands, it's her final wish that you read it...and understand...I sincerely hope you are well, and we will be awaiting your arrival next week to attend her funeral. Safe journey's, Coral.

........Grand.....Grandmother......she's gone....No..No! NO NO! A tidal wave of sadness, regret and loss overtakes you, your heart felt like it was being torn into pieces in your chest, this was a pain you had never felt before. Gripping onto the letter as this rage fills you, tears streaming your face as the crying builds and builds, until you let out this guttural scream at the top of your lungs. Your hands grab at the grass of the earth, digging your fingers deep into the soil to ground you, still blowing your lungs out with this pain and anguish you can't seem to be free from. Your grandmother is gone, the woman who raised you, she was practically your mother. Your crying didn't stop, you could barley breath with how much you were letting out, a second felt like an hour and nothing was calming you down. The whole world around you was quiet, all you could hear was your crys of pain, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, and the memories of your grandmother going through your mind. How could this be so painful for you? Why is it so hard to breath? After what felt like hours of crying and screaming, eventually you were sat on the ground, numb, staring out at the sea, feeling absolutely drained. She was gone....she was really gone.....what could you do without her? She was your home, your family...your grandmother. All you could do was sit....just sit...tears still falling but you were motionless. You face was blank, your eyes were red from the crying and your hands had blood and dirt from grabbing and hitting the ground underneath you. Nothing had ever effected you like this, and you had no idea what to do. You look at the grass to where the letter is, and carefully pick it up to look again. Still feeling numb, you read, and it's then that you remembered something about the letter.

Coral said it was imperative that the letter doesn't fall into the hands of a Targaryen, but why? And why was it your grandmother's request? She must have known something you didn't. All you knew was that you couldn't stay hear, not now. You had to find your uncle, and you had to attend her funeral too. But by the gods, this pain was not leaving you. It was like there was a knife that was left thrust into your heart, you hated this pain you felt. Still crying, you managed to stand and brush the dirt and grass from your hands, reaching down and picking up the letter again. You love your grandmother so much, and if it was her last wish to have you read the last letter she ever wrote, you would do just that, no matter the pain. Making your way back to the castle, it felt like the world was darker, nothing was as happy or welcoming anymore, and it brought you down even more. It was the early afternoon by the time you entered the castle, and you still felt numb from the crying fit you had been through. You didn't even know what to say or do. Entering the castle and walking up a set of stairs, you were about to reach one of the balconies to another staircase, when you didn't even notice Aemond walking down in your direction with Cole.

"Have I not told you to deal with the fucking rat catchers-wait? Y/N?"

Again, you were numb and couldn't take in the noises or voices around you, you had no idea Aemond was talking to you.

"By the gods-leave us Cole"

"But your grace, we need to discuss-"

"I said leave! I must see to Y/N"

Criston left with a sour face, but you didn't notice. Aemond ran straight to you, holding your arms and trying to get you to look at him.

"Y/N, Y/N what's happened? Your as white as a sheet, are you hurt? Please speak to me!"

You hear him, look up at him with your red eyes and tear soaked cheeks, looking absolutely drained.

"She's gone.........my grandmother......she's dead......"

"Oh Y/N, I'm so sorry"

He instinctively pulls you in for a hug, cradling you, trying his best to help comfort you. Your still a little dased, so your arms don't hug him back for a few moments, but eventually you do. Burying your face in his green leather jacket, the tears fall again, this time in the arms of the man you cared so much for. He held you and stroked your hair, calming you with his soothing voice.

"Shh shh, there there Y/N, it's ok. I'm so sorry this has happened. Your grandmother sounded like such a wonderful person, when did you find out?"

"......this morning.....she didn't send me a letter...an old friend of mine in the brothal did"

"Oh god....can I ask?"

"She died in her sleep....she felt no pain..."

"Y/N, I don't know what's the right thing to say to you, I know your heartbroken. But at least she didn't suffer, and she felt no pain"

"I know.....but it's still so hard"

"I know...I know...."

"(Sniffing and wiping tears).......I have to go Aemond"

"Go?"

"On horse back to the ship and across the sea, it will take me a few days. Her funeral is in 7 days time.....I must go and.....and say goodbye"

"I understand Y/N...do you need me to accompany you? Or I can send a noble lady to-"

"No Aemond......I can go back on my own....I have too..."

"Ok, I just wanted to make sure you were safe"

"I will be....I must make haste if I'm to get to the dock on time. I'll be back in a week....I'm sorry I have to go"

"Don't be sorry, I know you must do this....stay safe ok?"

"I will...."

With one final sweet and gentle goodbye kiss, you turn back and make your way out of the castle, heading to the stables. You hired a horse and rode it to the dock, where you caught the first ship heading back home. The ride on the ship felt so much longer, maybe it was because you didn't want to go back, the thought of seeing your home without your grandmother was too much to comprehend. The days passed, and before you knew it you were docking back on land and riding yet another horse to the town you grew up in. It didn't feel the same, the streets felt empty, quieter...not like you remember at all. You kept the horse outside the brothal, which was closed for the day, but you entered anyway. No lamps were lit, the only light was from the open windows and there was a sad feeling in the air. You walk through and up stairs to your grandmother's home quarters, it too was quiet...too quiet. Even as you walk through the living room and your bedroom, it didn't feel like home anymore, not without her. Grandmother's bedroom was quiet too, still and lifeless. But this is where she died, right hear in her bed. Why oh why weren't you there for her? Why did you have to be so selfish and leave her to see new places? You should have been hear, helping her, holding her hand as she died. Why couldn't you have-

"Y/N? Is that you?"

"The sound of Coral's voice brought you back to reality, spinning around to face her.

"C-Coral. I, I apologise"

"There's no need Y/N, truly........Are you doing alright?"

"If I'm being honest I.......I don't know....I have no idea"

"Y/N.....If your ready, the funeral will start soon. Shall we go together?"

She asks holding out her hand. You can't speak in fear of crying, instead you take her hand and she gives you a gentle smile as she leads you out at towards the grave yard. There are a few ladies who worked in the whore house there, but none else, except you and Coral. The priest said some kind words about your grandmother and all the good things she did for the town. You didn't hold back the tears, you let them flow, not caring if anyone thought of you as weak. By the end of the funeral, you stood by her now filled in grave, just standing and looking at her grave stone. Time didn't mean anything at this moment, all you could do was stare....in disbelief. The touch of a hand on your shoulder brought you back around, it was Coral.

"She's in a better place now Y/N.....I want you to know your grandmother left you a box in her bedroom for you to have. She left me a message to run the brothal in your absence. Is that something your ok with? I promise I'll take good care of it, and her letter said that if you want to run it instead your more than welcome"

"That's ok Coral.....I've seen you run that place when my grandmother fell ill, your perfect to run it. I umm...I'm think I'll see what she's left me, if that's ok?"

"Of course, and there will always be a home for you hear above the brothal if you decide to come back"

"Thank you Coral.....I'll see you"

A few minutes later, you come back to the brothal and sit on your grandmother's bed, still wiping away some tears. It's there that you see a blue box with your name on it, this must have been what she left you. Taking it in your hands and resting it on your legs, you open it to reveal some things from your childhood. Your blanket from when you were a baby, a small painting of you and your grandmother together, including one of your mother by herself. And your grandmothers neclace. She never took this off, she wore it every single day, and you never saw her without it. And now she was passing to you. You felt so loved and honoured to be given these things, and you put her neclace on straight away, feeling like you were carrying a part of her with you, like she's not truly gone. It was another hour before you left the brothal and headed back to the docks. You knew it was in safe hands with Coral, but it hurt too much to stay there, you couldn't. You rode the horse back, climbed aboard the ship once more and sat comfortably, awaiting for it to set sail. It was then that you over hear two men, late 40s, excitedly discussing something big.

"You lie! That can't be true can it?"

"I'm not lying! My brother saw it with his own eyes! Three dragons have new riders! And they have flown to DragonStone to fight along side Queen Rhaenyra!"

"Which dragons? And who was mad enough to attempt it?!"

"Ulf The White has claimed Silverwing, Addam Of Hull has claimed Seasmoke, and I'm not sure who has claimed Vermithor"

"Vermithor? That was the late King Jehaerys's dragon right?"

"That's right! Not only that! But The Prince Regent was seen by everyone in Kings Landing, riding Vhagar and chasing Ulf and Silverwing! If he was on his own, Ulf would have met his fate by the hands of Aemond and Vhagar!"

Was what these men saying true? Did these dragons really get new riders? And did Aemond really try and kill someone? You've met Ulf on a few occasions in the local tavern, why would Aemond want to kill him? Or another dragon?

"Excuse me?"

"Yes miss"

"Is that true? What you say about The Prince Regent?"

"Yes! All of Kings Landing witnessed Aemond ride his dragon and he tried to kill Ulf and Silverwing"

"But why? Surely he wouldn't do that"

"He is determined to win this war miss, and he'll do whatever it takes to do it. And that's not even the worst! Because he couldn't kill Ulf, he killed the people of Sharp Point!"

"He what?!"

"It's true! He made Vhagar burn everyone and everything there, and just sat there and watched! My cousin lived there! He killed her without a care in the world! Queen Rhaenyra would never do such a thing! And Prince Aemond cares not for the people of Kings Landing either! They are going hungry! Fighting for food and The Prince will do nothing!"

That doesn't sound like the Aemond you know, why in the hell wood he kill the innocent people of Sharp Point? Was the Aemond you knew just a lie? Surly not, not with how he behaved around you, spoke to you....was intimate with you on so many levels. You had to see this for yourself, if the people were wrong, you'd defend Aemond. But...if they were right...you didn't know yet what to do. After some considerable time, it was dark in the night by the time you saddled your horse and reached Kings Landing. Many were in their homes asleep as you rode your horse through the streets, heading straight towards the castle. Entering the main gates and dismoutning your horse, a stable boy takes care of him while you go inside, with what looks like hardly any guards around. All was lit in the castle, but it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You didn't announce yourself, nor did you see any guards around, you needed to be careful. If what the people were saying about Aemond was true, you needed to be on your guard. Especially after reading the note Coral sent to you before you left, about not letting that or the letter sent to your uncle, fall into the wrong hands, and more specifically, the Targaryen's. You snuck into hallways, slid past the odd guard and was as quiet as a mouse. You were about to turn a corner when you finaly hear voices, stopping you in your tracks. And wouldn't you know it, it was Aemonds voice, but he wasn't alone. You stay put, listening in closely as to what he had to say.

"People will depend on them for sustenance"

"They will need no sustenance if they are slaughtered by the enemy. We must all make our sacrifices"

Oh my god. He was refuring to the people of Kings Landing! It was true! He was starving the people and neglecting them. But what you were about to hear next would be even more shocking.

"Has there been any sightings of Y/N?"

"No your grace"

"I am to be told about her arrival the second she gets hear, understand? Also, have any of your men found any information about Y/N's family, bloodline or allies?"

"Not yet your grace, all we know is that her grandmother died recently, and she has an uncle who we have not been able to find or name. There is a chance he is either dead, or has gone to the traitors side, Rhaenyra"

"Find who this is, bring him to me and find out more about her now! I should have seen to this matter the moment she arrived. White hair and a violet eye? And her interaction with Vhagar? She's lied to me, and I'll have her head for this"

Him and the other men had walked straight passed you, and you were completely stunned. How.....how could he betray you like this? You never lied to him about your family or past, because you didn't know your family. How could he break your trust like this? You never knew your heart could hurt this much, you couldn't even stop clutching your chest as you slump to the ground, tears streaming down your cheeks. First your grandmother dies, and now the man you thought you loved was going behind your back to betray you? How could he?! He lied to you! He lied and didn't care about you at all! No man who was truly in love with a woman would ever do this to her, everyone was right....he did try and kill Ulf....he did kill those people in Sharp Point....he was a monster. Your life was in danger, and by the man who ran Kings Landing, his brother Aegon was no better, it's abundantly clear that neither of them are fit to be real men or rule the cit-.......but........there was someone else who could.....time after time you had heard good, positive things about Aemond and Aegons sister, Queen Rhaenyra. She deserved the throne more than Aemond, she could rule like a true monarch, it would seem that this whole time, you were fighting for the wrong side, and you knew you had to change the situation. But....you weren't just going to run away, no no no. Aemond is not getting away with going behind your back and deceiving you. Your once eager heart for him had been crushed, and now it was filled with hatred, rage, and he was goto feel it. You wiped your tears, stood up proud and took a steadying breath, you were going to confront Aemond, and you were going to do it now. You follow the sound of his voice aswell as the two men who were with him, sneaking without being seen as you follow closer and closer. After a few minutes, you stood and hid behind a wall, where you peek around and seen Aemond dismiss the two men, and enters the throne room in his own, now was your chance. Aemond enters and the two men walk away, but the large throne room doors are large and slow, that's where you sneek up and slip into the throne room right before the doors close shut, where you them slip into the shadows, hiding in the darkness. You watch him like a hawk, not letting him out of your sight. But he looks so comfortable, standing...staring ar the throne...close enough to touch, yet...he doesn't. You make your move. As he stares at the throne, you walk out behind him and stand in the centre of the throne room, with a face that could kill.

"You fucking backstabbing cunt..."

".......Hm.......I see you've finaly returned Y/N....it is a pleasure to have you back....however....it would seem the feeling isn't mutual.....prey tell, what ever could be wrong?"

"The fact that you have to ask means your either completely blinded by your own actions, or are too arrogant to see what you've done"

"What I've done? My sweet Y/N...I did not cause the death of your grandmother..."

"No, you didn't.....but you DID kill all the innocent people of Sharp Point! For what purpose?! Your inflated ego couldn't handle the fact that you tried and failed to kill an innocent dragon and her new rider Ulf, so instead, you kill innocent people whome you are suposed to protect?!"

"The people of Sharp Point.....that was....a shame....it truly was. But it was a necessary sacrifice to strengthen our hou-"

"Don't you fucking dare! Don't you fucking dare give me that bullshit Aemond! You have murdered innocent people! Men! Women and fucking children! There are no words, absolutely NO words that you can spit out of that poisonous mouth of yours, that will justify what you did!"

"....Hm....you have clearly let other people's words get to you, why don't we both retire to my bed chambers and I can help relieve any-"

"You will never, ever touch me again Aemond! The fact that I have touched you makes me feel suck to my stomach! And I have NOT let other peoples words get to me! They are the truth! And MY own ears don't lie! Especially when they hear YOU!"

"Hear me?"

"Oh, your acting like an innocent man right now! But I heard what you said in the castle halls! You don't care about me! You never have! Because if you did you would never conspire behind my back, believe I was lying to you about my family and history, and talk about me like I was some kind of in inanimate object that's in your way of achieving your goal!"

".............Y/N.........you gave me no choice"

"Gave you no choice?! I gave you more than that Aemond! I gave you my trust! My heart, my body! I gave you all of me! What more could you have wanted from me?!"

"The truth"

"I've told you nothing but the truth! I've not lied to you once!"

"Don't give me this speech. It was obvious from the start that you were hear to infiltrate the castle. Take back what you though was yours!"

"What are you talking about?! Take back what?! I'm not of royal blood and I wouldn't want to be!"

"So your telling me it's just a coincidence that you come hear, to Kings Landing, with the features of a Targaryen?"

"Features? What are you talking about?"

"Your white streak in your hair...your violet eye...no commoner has ever had these features, only the Targaryen bloodline"

"But I'm not a Targaryen! My father had green eyes, my mother had-"

"Violet. Two violet eyes, just like many of the Targaryen's in the past. And I distinctly remember you telling me about stories when you were a child, about how your grandmother had long white hair....as did your mother...."

"You bastard...you didn't want me to talk about my family so you and I could get closer, you did it to find out information. You used me..."

"Not so much used....it was a nice experience, it truly was. I hope there are no hard feelings?"

"I hope you rot in hell!"

"Tsk tsk, that's a shame. And I just knew you were lying to me when I took you to see Vhagar. A commoner with no Targaryen blood, being able to do that to a dragon? There's no way. You have lied to me.....and that was obvious by the letter Coral sent you"

"The-the what? You......how did you know what was in my letter? I never read it to you"

"Hmm....poor little Y/N, you really think I wouldn't see if you were lying to me? Every time you've had a letter sent to you by your grandmother, I've read it first. I was there to read it and had it resealed so you wouldn't know. It was a shame about your grandmother....if she had lived a little while longer I would have had the chance to send my men and interrogate her. I would have known far more about you than I do now"

"You.....you fucking monster! How dare you do that! How was I ever blind enough to trust you?!"

"I am The Prince Regent, all can trust me, I have ruled Kings Landing better than my brother"

"Neither one of you have ever ruled like a true King! It's so clear now that you and your brother shouldn't have been given this power! The real person who deserves to sit on that throne, and lock you in the dungeons for the remainder of your days, should have been your sister all along!"

"Healena is not equipped to rule, she is far to fragile-"

"Your sister Rhaenyra!"

Never before had you seen this kind of anger on his face, his eye almost burned with rage at the mere mention of his older sisters name.

"How....dare you say her name in my presence....I could have you killed for that"

"You could have me killed over anything! I don't care Aemond! You betrayed ME! I owe you NOTHING! Your sister is a far better ruler of Kings Landing, and I should have been fighting for her right to rule all along"

"Take that back, now. Your Prince commands it!"

"Your not MY Primce! Your just a little boy who has no idea how to treat people who were loyal to him! Has no business ruling a kingdom when he has little to no human feelings! So much that you will burn people alive, simply because YOU COULDN'T GET YOUR OWN WAY!!"

"Silence! Or I'll have your tounge!"

"You and I both know that you are nowhere near strong enough or skilled enough to face me in a fight! I could kill you before you could unsheath your weapon, but I know you deserve a far more painful death than that"

"Enough! I will have you chained in the dungeons! I will dig up any dead family members you have to find out what your hiding! And I will stop at nothing to rule Kings Landing, with or without you willingly at my side!"

"You stupid little boy....this will be the last time you will ever see me. I am not going to be your slave, your prisoner....I am not yours"

"Not yet....but enough time in the dungeons by yourself an you'll come crawling back to me"

"Are you deaf?! I'm not spending another minute in your presence!"

"Oh yes you are! Because I remember what your grandmother wrote to you. Something about your uncle haveing letter that will explain everything? And not to allow any Targaryen's to read it? Either you are going to take me to your uncle, or we'll bring him hear, with you in chains! Now what is your uncles name!? And where is he?!"

"I hope you choke on your own blood Aemond. I'll never tell you anything about my uncle, and I'm leaving this place right now!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it"

Aemond reaches for his sword, but true to your word, you draw your double ended spear and disarmed Aemond within a few seconds. You stared him down, anger yet firm concentration in your eyes, unlike him, who shook with fear.

"Guards! Guar-"

You slice at his chest, and he falls to the floor. He grabs onto his bleeding torso and tries his best to stand, but he cant. You can hear the guards running towards the throne room, so you don't have a lot of time. You try to run, but hearing Aemond's genuine wimpers of pain, and tears running from his eye, your heart tugged at you. Was this your only chance to say goodbye to the Aemond you thought you knew? You kneel down, making sure he has no more weapons, still pointing yours at him. But your free hand came and held his cheek as you looked at him.

"I thought I loved you Aemond....I though we were something more than this....if this was all just anger...if what we shared meant anything to you, truly meant anything to you...you'll call the guards away...."

For that moment, he looked into your eyes as you leant down to him. It was like the Aemond you fell in love with was there, and his hand held yours against his cheek. But even with you offering this olive branch...he still couldn't be that man again....the man he pretended to be with you.

"Guards! Seize Y/N!"

And just like that, he was gone. You hit him in the face, knocking him out and flee to the doors. As they were being opened, you hid behind one, and once they all piled in, you slipped behind them and ran through the hallways and straight out of the castle. It was pitch black and you had nowhere to go, what would you do? You were now a wanted woman in Kings Landing. Running away from the castle and into the city below, you strategically run past a shop where they sell maps, and grab one from the window so quick, that noone would see you steal it even if it was in the light of day. You run, and run, farther than you have before. You lungs burned and your legs felt as if they would fall from beneath you, but you had to put distance between you and that place. You finaly stop behind a house, catching your breath and reading the map you had in your shaking hands. You see where you are and notice there's a small area near by with small boats for hire, that was your ticket out of hear. Again you start running to this area with the small boats, and the man on the docks is fast asleep, that was your chance. Slipping past him and releasing a boat just big enough for you, you climb in and start sailing away in the direction of DragonStone. You had no idea where your uncle was, but you know that DragonStone was the next best place to go, especially as you were ready to fight for Queen Rhaenyra so she can be the rightful ruler. The adrenaline coursed through your veins, pushing you in the dead of night to row in the direction of DragonStone, with nothing but a lantern and a determination. The sun was rising over the water by the time you saw land, and your body and mind were beyond exhaustion. The boat you were in landed on a small stretch of sand, you practically fell out of the boat with how weak you were. You had no idea how much time had passed, but when your eyes opened, it was clear to see that you had passed out for a good hour at least, looking at where the sun now was in the sky. You manage to stand, brush the sand off and start walking up towards the stones and rocks. The further you went, the larger and more dangerous this place got, even the rocks that had somehow turned into the ground were sharp and deadly. Hours, it was hours before you found a large cliff area next to other large rocks, that's where you sit and try to get your breath back. So much had happened in the last few days. Your grandmother had died, you didn't know where your uncle was and he was the only family you had left, the man you thought you loved was actually a cruel and heartless monster...and now you were lost in the rocky mountains of DragonStone trying to find Queen Rhaenyra. Not even knowing if she'd take you in after what your history is with Aemond. A part of you was thinking if this was all worth it, what would happen next?.......................in your moment of silence...............a terrifying noise has rung in your ears..........it was close.......loud.....alive......and sounded like a monster. You instinctively hid behind the large rock you were sat against, heart pounding in your chest and your body shaking. What was this coming closer? And where was it? Everything goes still when you hear a vibrating growl from right above your head......you've heard Vhagar's growl before.....but this sounded bigger.....angrier......Slowly turning your face to look up, it's then that you see what this thing was. It's teeth were larger than most castle turrets, it's eyes glowed a menacing green colour, it's skin, scales and claws were black as coal....and it's size.....made Vhagar look like a puppy in comparison. You were barely the same size as one of his pupils, that's how large this thing was, and it's wing span was long enough to shade all of Kings Landing from the sun in a single flap! There's no way........it cannot be.................The Cannibal!!!

The vibrations through the rocks were the warning you needed to run, and the second you did, The Cannibal blew fire all over the ground where you once sat. Running away from being burned and chased by the dragon was terrifying, it blew fire every time it saw you, but luckily you were able to hide or just move out of the way in time. You found yourself hiding underneath a shady rock when The Cannibal was resting on one not far away, sniffing the air, trying to find your scent. You has never felt fear like it, your heart was practical bursting out of your chest and panic overwhelmed you. Sneaking peaks to see if it was any closer, something caught your attention, a jingling from around your neck. It was your grandmothers neclace, the one you got after her funeral. You grabbed it, squeezed it tight and trying desperately to imagine she was there with you, or even a memory that would help calm you. Her smile was in your mind, her calm warm smile. The time she showed you how to make pasta, and when you rode your first horse, even when she told you stories of your mother when you had suffered with a nightmare, you missed her so much. With her image in your mind, her voice came too, but it wasn't from the memory you were seeing, it was what she would often say to you, and you never knew why she did.

"You have the fire of a dragon in your heart my darling. Let the world see you burn"

........She was right......she told you about the dragons for a reason, she has a purpose for you, and you weren't going down without a fight. And if you were going down, it would have been in dragon flames! Like any true warrior! You have this sudden lifting feeling, no longer fear, but bravery. If your time was coming to an end, you would do everything in your power to take The Cannibal down with you. You look around the corner, it's searching for you, but not in the right direction, this was your chance to confront it. Emerging from your hiding place, standing bold and valiant in it's presence, you announce to The Cannibal that your there, in the only way you'd know how.

"[I am hear Cannibal! I do not fear you!]"

Its head turned suddenly to the sound of your voice, and for some strange reason, its eyes flicker when it hears you speaking in high valyrian, almost as if it recognised it.

"[Too long you have frightened humans and other dragons! If I'm do die in dragon fire, I'm taking you with me!]"

The growl you heard erupting from The Cannibals throat was thunderous, unlike anything you've heard or felt before. It was angered by you, angered that you were not scared of it, not afraid to fight it, and that you spoke high valyrian to it. And yet, that little look in it's eye was still bugging you, but that was quickly interrupted by it's flames shooting in your direction. You dodged, jumping and landing perfectly on the large rock the perfect distance away, you looked it dead in the eye, determined to not stop until you were victorious. It was angered again, this time it started chasing you, but you were able to slip and hide under and behind little rocks, just out of it's line of sight. And each time you had evaded it, you would sneek up from a corner and use your double ended spear to slice at his leathery skin or scales. It screeched so loud it could make your ears bleed, but he kept coming after you, biting and breathing fire to kill you. This went on for what felt like hours, in your heart it felt like your last battle before you'd meet your maker. You were jumping from one rock to another when it's teeth were so close to biting you, thankfully, they only wounded you, leaving a 6 inch slice across your arm when you landed, it must have been the very tip of one of it's sharp teeth. Gasping for breath and hiding again, you grip tightly at your arm, in pain and hoping to stop the bleeding, but as this was happening, The Cannibal licked and tastes your blood with its tounge...and it was startled, almost as it he'd tasted blood like this before, but hundreds of years previously. Lost in it's thought, you took your chance. You crept up behind it, ran up it's large arm and jumped, screaming like an animal to land right next to its face, pointing the tip of your spear right at it's eye. Sweaty, bloodied and filled with rage, you speak to it once more.

"[I have the fire of a dragon! And you WILL see me burn!......Will you meet your end today? Or will you stand down?........make your choice Cannibal!]"

From the moment you pointed your speak at it's eye, it had frozen, not moving at all. The only noise you heard was the sound of it's breathing, subtly moving you up and down as you stand on him. His enormous green eye stared back at you, seeing that you were not wavering, you had defeated him. No other human or dragon had been this close to ending him, or injuring him.....and he was impressed. His pupil changed, and the anger his body held slowed and released, almost like he was showing you through body language that he was standing down, he knew he would die if you made one single move. This was only the second time you'd been this close to a dragon, and you weren't expecting to see the one and only Cannibal at the end of your blade, let alone be strong enough or quick enough to be triumphant in a battle. It made a soothing noise, moving its head away from you slowly and allowing you to carefully and easily jump down from its shoulder. Why was it doing this? Why did it not take the chance to kill you when you lowered your weapon as you were getting down from him? And why did he keep licking the tooth that scratched you? It stood up, shadowing the sun with its enormous size, but again, it did not attack. It just watched you...why? You were curious, was it the high valyrian you spoke? What if you tried it again?

"[Cannibal! Approach me!]"

Slowly, its head moved down to you, close enough for you to touch. It did not show any signs of threatening behaviour, but it did listen to you.

"[Cannibal....present your wings]"

The moment you said that, it moved quickly onto it's feet, leant back and unravelled its wings. They practically turned day into night, they were larger than most cities! Oh my god! The Cannibal was listening to you and obeying you! How is this possible? While this was an incredible moment, you couldn't bask in it forever, you were on the run after all. Oh wait....you were on the run....from Aemond....who had Vhagar...hm? Aemond was sure to ride Vhagar in order to search for you...he wouldn't dare to touch you if....you had The Cannibal. Maybe the Cannibal obaying you was a strange coincidence...but there was no harm in trying...to ride it. You slowly approached him, showing him that you mean no harm now, and he still doesn't move. Gently, you reach your hand out and rest it on his leathery skin, feeling his heart beat and his heat, it soothed you, and it would seem it soothed him too to feel your touch. How can a wild dragon, the most dangerous and largest of dragons be this calm around you?

Still keeping eye contact with him, you slowly start to climb up his shoulder and manoeuvre yourself onto his large back, it was like climbing over the rocks again, only these were dragon scales and spikes. By the time you managed to sit in a place where you could not be hurt by spikes and hang onto him safely, you looked over him in a new way. It was like sitting on a field of black leather, looking from every angle only seeing him or his wings. You thought Vhagar was large, but The Cannibal....he would make Vhagar shake in her own wings. You stroke him, he let's out a calming yet still loud and thunderous growl, never before in your life would you imagine sitting on a dragon, let alone him. Taking a deep breath...relaxing your shoulders....you give him a command, and if he did indeed do it...it would change your life forever.

"[Serve me Cannibal! Fly to Kings Landing!]"

His body vibrates, moves from side to side, which is why you have to hold on for dear life. Your fingers were white with how tightly you had to hold onto his back as he rose from the ground and onto his back legs. It felt like blustering winds when he let out his wings, moving them up and down, up and down and flapping them about. The earth felt like it shook when he lifted off the ground, flying right into the air. Your heart was beating rapidly, your eyes tightly closed as you felt him go higher and higher, it wasnt until the air was still that you opened your eyes. The sights from this high were astonishing, the rocks below were tiny and the sea looked more like a small puddle, you were the highest you had ever known a person could go. Still holding on for your life, you felt the heartbeat of The Cannibal as he flew through the sky, it was unlike anything you had ever known, free, strong, powerful. You could see Kings Landing in the distance, and anger filled your heart at the thought of Aemond, well, let's see what he'd think of another dragon flying over his kingdom.

"[Forward Cannibal! Circle Kings Landing! Do not attack!]"

The thunderous roar he made was loud and scary enough to make the mountains shake, and any man would run in fear. And that's precisely what you could see in the distance. The shadow of The Cannibal was already looming over the castle and it's people before you even got there, and it's safe to say it attracted the right person. Down on the ground, Aemond runs out of the castle, watching the people flee and scream at the sight of this unknown dragon, and his own heart was thumpimg in terror too. But he couldn't show weakness, he had to keep this persona of the brave Prince Regent, and in knowing that, He mounted his horse and rode straight out of the gates and towards Vhagar. All the while, you were soaring above Kings Landing, getting more comfortable on your dragons back. A few moments later, The Cannibal roared at something towards the north, and out of the clouds, was Vhagar, and Aemond! But you felt no fear, just anger and determination.

"[Forward Cannibal!]"

These two monstrous dragons flew to eachother in the sky, beasts filled with rage and flame, but you knew Aemond had the same beastly rage inside him too. He drew closer, yet he couldn't see you yet, his realisation will be very satisfying to you. He lied to you, made you trust him, made you fall in love with him, and it was all just a manipulation tactic. Well now, he's going to see just how dangerous you can be. You moved The Cannibal up a little higher as Vhagar approached, and turned him slightly, that way Aemond could see you on his back, and it was safe to say, you'd never seen Aemond look so pale. True fear was etched on his face, he looked terrified, no, petrified!

Seeing his face, his eye, the man who deceived you for so long, and was on a power trip, needed to be tought a lesson, or at least be shown he isn't the most powerful man anymore. Rage bubbled up in your chest, your heart raced and you sit up proudly on The Cannibals back, you take a deep breath. You knew exactly what to say, you'd heard it in the stories your grandmother told you, and now...it was your turn. Staring him in his one eye, you hold tightly to your dragons back, and scream...

"[DRACARYS!!!]"

The Cannibal opens his mouth, and out comes fire that can only be compared to the flames of hell. He blew his fire directly at Vhagar when she was close enough, engulfing her and Aemond. Aemond only just managed to manoeuvre Vhagar out of the way so he didn't burn, but Vhagar suffered a little fire damage to her chest. You turn the Cannibal around and fly away, but not without first giving Aemond a look that cloud kill. He could see the look on your face, he knew you weren't trying to kill him, you were warning him. He knew you were riding the most dangerous dragon in Westeros, and it was not him who had all the control anymore. He flew back to Kings Landing, with his tale between his legs. He regretted what he did to you, because now he was royally fucked. As he left, you gave The Cannibal another command.

"[Onwards Cannibal! Fly to Dragonstone! Do not harm any humans! Do not harm any dragons!]"

He listened to your command, and flew towards Dragonstone in the distance. With him being so large, the flight was surprisingly quick, and you were there within a few minutes. You and him soar over DragonStone, looking down at the castle where Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are living, there's no doubt you will attract their attention.

"[Land hear Cannibal! Do not harm any living thing!]"

His wings flap as he lowers himself to the ground, slowly and carefully. Despite him being so large, he actually landed very well, despite the ground shaking beneath you. The sight and the sound of your dragon had alerted all the people inside, and everyone ran out to see what the noise was, including Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon. They were there to see you and the dragon first, shock in Rhaenyra's eyes, yet amusement in Daemons. You climb down from The Cannibal, sliding down his black hide and landing on the ground. You walk up to his face, which has come down to meet you, as you rest your hand on his face. Your touch seems to calm him too, and that's a good thing, as Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon walk forward.

"You there! Young woman! Who are you? Are you hear to threaten DragonStone?"

"No my queen. I am not hear to threaten you. I am hear to fight for you"

Daemon looks he Cannibal right in the eye, and smiles.

"This dragon is wild, The Cannibal if I am correct? How is it you were able to approach this dragon without being torn to shreds? My father and my ancestors were all told stories about the wild dragons, and yet you have ridden this one"

"Yes, this is The Cannibal, just like you my queen, I also grew up with the tales of the dragons. I was leaving Kings Landing when I found myself lost on DragonStone. And that's where I found myself in his territory. I must he honest, I did think it was my final day, I too have heard of many dying when meeting him. But in fighting back, I found I was able to harm him, as you can see hear (points to the wound on his skin) And when I had him in a position where I could kill him, he seemed to...respect it? Respect that someone bad managed to fight back and win. I think that's why he allowed me to ride him"

The Cannibal growls when Daemon tried to approach him, but you calm him by holding him, and speaking to him.

"[Calm Cannibal...Do not harm him]"

When Daemon staggers back, he and Rhaenyra look at eachother in shock. Daemon addresses you.

"How...how are you able to talk to him? Your words...they are high valyrian. How is it possible that you can speak that language?"

"My grandmother, your grace. She raised me and taught me many languages, including high valyrian. I found The Cannibal responds to it"

"Yes, dragons only listen to high valyrian. Your...your grandmother...how did she know this language? And your...your appearance...it's-"

"You have interesting physical qualities"

Daemon interrupts. Him and Rhaenyra see what everyone else sees, apparent Targaryen physical attributes.

"Yes I do Daemon. I was born like this, however, I am currently unaware of my true ancestry, but I soon hope to find out the truth, once I find my uncle"

He just smirks, he seems to like you, which is a good thing. You've heard of Daemon Targaryen, and his strength, maybe he likes that someone could answer him without feeling fear.

"What is your name? Dragon rider"

"Y/N, your grace. I have come hear to fight for the rightful heir to the throne. I'm afraid I have seen what your family members have been doing in Kings Landing, and it's beyond disgusting. Neither Aegon or Aemond deserve to sit upon the throne, or make decisions for the people. Aemond...Aemond is a cruel and heartless boy in a mans body, and he is a poison to the royal bloodline. I came hear to show my support to you, your grace, if you'll have me. If you will have me, you will also have my dragon"

"Indeed. I believe it was your dragon who was in the sky above Kings landing a short while before you arrived. Me and Daemon witnessed you bravely meeting Vhagar, and burning her. Not everyone has the strength or bravery to meet Vhagar in single combat. Your strength and your dragon will be very useful to me, and I can offer you a warm bed and food hear in DragonStone. Do you swear to serve me?"

"I swear, your grace. I will follow you and support you in your fight to reclaim the throne"

She simply nods her head, and Daemon gives you a cheeky smile.

"Very well. Seeing as you are new to dragon riding, I do believe you should go and speak to the other dragon seeds. They are inside having something to eat. Daemon, will you show Y/N the way?"

"Yes, Rhaenyra"

You gently stroke and calm The Cannibal before he flies a few meters away and gets comfortable on a large rock, getting some rest from the flight. Rhaenyra gives you a kind smile before you follow Daemon inside, it's quite dark inside DragonStone, but there's plenty of candle light to show the way through the corridors.

"And hears me thinking there was nothing else that could truly suprise me. Then you come along, girl. Tell me, as the one and only rider of the legendary wild dragon, The Cannibal....why fight for my queen? When clearly, your dragon is strong enough and large enough to kill Vhagar in a single bite. And aswell, why did you not kill Vhagar?"

"Her rider is a little boy who has grown greedy with power, and with Vhagar as his dragon he must feel like he's the most powerful in Westeros. I wanted him to feel fear, he struck fear into the hearts of all those innocent people of Sharp Point, and took their lives because of his own insecurities"

"How interesting.....I would have thought a commoner like you wouldn't hate Aemomd this much, I can tell but the way you speak about him. He's struck a nerve in you, hurt you"

"You could say that"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Deamon pins you against the wall, his blade pressed against your throat, but if you were being honest, you half expected this. Hence why when he was trying to give you an intimidating look, holding the blade to your skin, your expression was completely blank. No fear, no worry, nothing.

"You were close to Aemond weren't you? Hm? You know what I think? I think...your working for him...and wanting to play pretend with Rhaenyra"

"I can assure you, that is the farthest from the truth-"

"Then tell me......why you carry this hate for Aemond....and why I shouldn't just kill you know...."

"....Killing me now would be a very stupid thing to do"

"Oh really? Do tell..."

"Right outside your hold that houses all the people fighting for you, including your queen, is my dragon. A dragon who is wild, and in your own words, capable of killing Vhagar in a single bite. Vhagar, who is the biggest obstacle in this war for your queen. If you kill me, The Cannibal will in return kill you, Rhaenyra, the dragon seeds, the dragons, including Caraxes. The greens would win and rule Kings Landing with a single swipe of this very blade. Now...you can remove this blade from my throat, and I will pretend this never happened. And do my best in fighting for your wife and queen"

"Or?..."

"Or I'll let you taste your own blade....when I cut out your tounge"

He smirks, your face doesn't change in the slightest, still strong and determined. He slowly removes the blade, allowing you to take your back off the cold stone wall.

"I think I'll find my own way to the dragon seeds, thank you"

You say walking down the hall, but not before Daemon speaks out to you.

"He manipulated you didn't he........made you believe he was someone he's not"

You don't turn back to face him when you answer, just simply look down the hall for where your going.

"He did.....he nearly succeeded.....but he failed"

"That's why you didn't use your dragon......you wanted to kill him with your bare hands....."

"And hopefully, someone will. Weather it's me, Queen Rhaenyra, or even you. I don't care who does it, as long as he's dead"

"Even with one eye, he's completely blinded by his thirst for the throne"

"Yes.....who knows....maybe he will be completely blinded before his death....losing his other eye would destroy him.....who knows....it may even kill him..."

And with that, you walked away, not wanting to talk to Daemon anymore. However, from your little interaction, it would seem Daemon took a liking to you, let's hope that was a good thing. A few minutes later, after walking around the halls of DragonStone, you hear voices, and one of them was familiar. Entering the darkened room, two men were talking, and it's then that you know who's voice that was.

"Ulf?"

"Hey! Y/N! What are you doing hear?"

"It's a long, and frankly complicated story"

"Oh man, the last time I saw you was in the tavern. But hey! Life's going pretty good for me! And this guy hear"

"Hi, I'm Addam"

He held out his hand for you to shake, which you did.

"So this is the room for the Dragon Seeds then?"

"Yeh! Me and Addam have our own dragon's! Isn't that amazing! I'm a dragon rider! Mine's called Silverwing, she's gorgeous. Addam hear rides...uh? What was yours called again?"

"Seasmoke"

"Ah yes, Seasmoke! But hang on a second, this is where the dragon seeds are told to go, why are you hear?"

"Ahh....well..."

That's all you can seem to say, and point to the open window. Addam and Ulf look outside, and that's when they see the monsterus Cannible, sleeping on the rocks.

"..........is......is that......no.....NO! That isn't what I think it is, is it?"

Ulf asks panicking, Addam is shocked, but manages to speak better than Ulf right now.

"You....claimed.....The Cannibal?! THE Cannibal?!"

"Yeh....as I said...it's a uh...long story. But look, I heard that there were 3 dragon seeds hear, who's claimed Vermithor?"

"Vermithor? Oh yeah, that's-"

"Did someone mention my dragon?"

A familiar voice said when entering the room, you turn, knowing who's voice that was, but it couldn't be, could it?

"I hear there's a new dragon seed-(gasp!)...........By the gods...............Y/N?!"

".........It's you! It's really you! Uncle Hugh!!"

You couldn't believe it, even when you ran and jumped into your uncles arms, that he was hear! You'd finaly found him!

"Oh Y/N, I've been looking for you everywhere! I tried to find you after my mother died, are you ok?"

"I'm ok, I'm...yeh I'm ok. I didn't-I didn't see you at her funeral, I wanted to see you. Oh god, uncle Hugh, everything has been-"

"Hey hey it's ok, come on. Let's go somewhere private"

You were getting upset and he guided you to a room where it was just the two of you, and he helped you to calm down. Sat to the little table together, he held your hand when you told him everything that had happened to you. The travelling, working in the castle, yours and Aemond's relationship, him betraying you, and claiming The Cannibal. He was more than shocked, yet so proud of you, he told you that what you had gone through was incredibly difficult, but just showed your strength.

"And that's how I claimed Vermithor"

"Weren't you frightened he would burn you? Just like he did the others?"

"I was more angry than fearful, but in a way, that helped. They don't call him The Bronze Fury for nothing. Oh sweet Y/N, I'm so sorry I couldn't be there to support you when my mother died. How are you holding up?"

"I don't even know anymore uncle Hugh. I feel so lost with everything that's happening, I have no idea what I'm suposed to do, or who I even am"

"........Ah.......yes......I suppose this is as good a time as any...."

"What? What are you talking about?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed letter, addressed to you. He placed it in your hands, and the perfume of your late grandmother was the scent coming off it.

"I received a letter from her too, it was to say goodbye, and to explain that you were in danger. I was to find you and give this too you, and not let it fall into the wrong hands..............Y/N.....this letter....this is the answer to your true family history.....it explains everything. Who you are....and why it was important for your eyes only"

"My eyes only....but you?...."

"I've known since you were born Y/N...but it was not my right to tell you. My mother said she would explain it at the right time but, well.....Look, I'll give you some time to read it, I think it's something to do yourself"

He gave you a reassuring pat to the shoulder and made his way to the door.

"Uncle Hugh?"

"Mm?"

"...Thank you"

He smiled and nodded, closing the door behind him. This was a huge moment for you, and a scary one at that. This letter held the truth about you, about your history. But it is also.....the last letter your grandmother ever wrote to you, and you were scared that once you read it, there wasn't going to be that little peace of her to fight for anymore. But you knew, deep down, you had to read it, for your own peace of mind, you needed to know who you truly are. Still slightly shaking as you open the seal, you pull out the letter, and begin to read.

Y/N

My darling granddaughter, I am so very very sorry, I did not have the strength to tell you the truth when I was alive, I love you and I wish for your forgiveness in the next life. I must tell you the truth about who you are, and who I am. You know me as your grandmother, but my name.....is Saera Targaryen. Daughter of the late King Jaehaerys. Which makes you, the great granddaughter of the Targaryen King. I could not live with my family, and chose to leave to make a life for myself. That is when I bought the whore house, had your mother and uncle, and then she had you. I also knew your father, he is one of the Winter Wolves. His name is William Dustin, he has brown wavey hair and green eyes, and he loved your mother very much. He is the son of the leader of The Winter Wolves, Roderick Dustin. He is a fierce combatant, and so are his kin. Your father is a northman, he wielded a spiked mace and was amongst one of the strongest in the army of 2000 men. He has the bravery and strength to face certain death, and is motivated by a fierce sence of duty and honour. He is fearless, just like you. That is the truth my darling Y/N...you have the blood of a Winter Wolf, but also the fire of a dragon with Targaryen ancestors. Never forget what I've told you. You have the fire of a dragon in your heart my darling, let the world see you burn. Fight, live, and show the world what your capable of. I love you. Your Grandmother.

.........Oh......my......god.........it's true..........it's really true..........you.....are.....a Targaryen. Your grandmother kept this massive secret for so long, and now that you knew the truth...you had no idea how to process it. For the first half an hour, you just sat there, didn't move a muscle and rested your mouth on your closed hands that leant on the table. You just breathed, let the information sink in, and tried not to think of it too much. But after a while, you stood up and started pacing the room, back and forth, thinking about all the times you should have known. All the times people spoke about your eyes, your hair...it was all there. And now even your father was a part of your thoughts. You were never told about him, and now you knew who he was. And in your grandmother's letter, she spoke about him like he was alive, was he? You could have a chance to meet him? He is a Winter Wolf, and you've heard about them supporting Queen Rhaenyra, just like you are now. Was this a blessing in disguise, to finaly meet your long lost father, in amongst this war and devastation? If your uncle knew about this all along, he must have some answers or at least some idea on how to find your father, and learn more about where you came from. But....as you looked out of the window at your sleeping dragon, this overwhelming sence of duty and honour filled your heart and mind. You were now serving the rightful Queen, and in order for you to have any kind of future with your father and uncle, this war had to be stopped. And in order to do that, you needed to fight. The Cannibal was your dragon, your responsibility, and yet despite him listening to you and your commands, he was still a wild dragon. And to form a real bond with him, you needed to train him, and train yourself to be a real dragon rider. So that is what you will do. You have many hear in DragonStone who can give you advice on how to care for The Cannibal, and how to be a true dragon rider. And once you've achieved that, you will stop at nothing to defend Rhaenyra, her kin, her dragons and her throne. This is your challenge now, and will this end with you slaying Aemond in the process? The man who had manipulated you and lied to you. Will his blood be on your blade? Your dragons teeth? Or will Aemond fall to another's weapon? You did not know, but what you did know, was that nothing was going to stop you, and with every day that you fight, your time will soon come for peace to be spread across the lands, your father knowing about you, and hopefully, a future in which you will not live as the rest of the Targaryen's do, but as you do. Just like your grandmother said to you, you have the fire of a dragon in your heart my darling, let the world see you burn. You do. And you will show the world. And that...starts with Aemond.

"Count your days Aemond.....because I'm coming for you......."

Link to part 1

[sophiesbimbofantasy]

If bimbo brain fog is bright and pink and soft, then this is the exact opposite. The longer you pour over the words on the page, the less they make sense, even the letters themselves becoming inarticulate blurs. You can feel your brain chugging, pumping out angry, thick, dark green fog that crowds out everything else. All the little aches and pains in your body become amplified and agitating, frustration mounting by the second. Angry little whimpers slip from your throat as you grit your teeth, getting closer and closer to swiping everything off your desk and throwing it to the floor, ripping up the pages into tiny, little-

A delicate hand lands on the base of your skull and it's like ripples across a still pond.

"Oh, you poor thing. My puppy is working herself too hard, isn't she? It's okay, Sophie. Take a deep breath for me. If you keep working, your brain will turn to mush! We'll have to turn it off. To keep it safe. That's it, princess. Deep breath in, feel it fill your chest, and let it out nice and slow."

You didn't even know it was there until your Domme was playing with you one night, but she's been making good use of the spot ever since. She didn't even have to implant it in you. There's a spot, right on the back of your head, that's like an instant submission button. The moment she touches it,you feel safe and calm and obedient. And it's only gotten stronger the more she uses it, training you subtly and slowly to relax and let all your thoughts and all your worries drift away when she touches it.

You turn to look up at her with vacant, doe eyes, a hazy smile on your lips. Warmth and comfort flow from her touch, spreading downward. Your back relaxes. Your jaw unclenches. Your shoulders ease down. Tension leaves you. And it's all because of her. Your Domme smiles down at you, her face framed by wavy brown hair. "There she is. There's my good girl. Good girls don't need to think, do they? Good girls just need to be empty and obedient. Horny little cocksockets don't need to think."

You whimper, her words piercing the pink haze that's settled into your mind, but you aren't given long to process it. A moment later, your face is pressed against her bulge, feeling it twitch and throb against your cheek. Her feminine musk rushes into your lungs and pushes out a deep, desperate moan. Your Domme chuckles. "See? That's a sign that this is what you're really meant for. You can have your degrees and your job and your title but, at the end of the day, you're a toy built for my pleasure." She reaches down and lifts the hem of her skirt, dragging it over her stiff girlcock until it finally flops it. Your eyes zero in on it, the rest of the world fading. Your mouth waters. "Go ahead, Sophie. Do what you're meant to do."

The moment you wrap your lips around her cock, bright lights flash behind your eyes. You can't think. You can't focus on anything but the feminine cock gliding against your tongue. The flared edge of the thick head, the vein that winds down the shaft, you're mapping out every inch of it as it slides in and out of you. Your own begs for attention between your thighs, leaking and soaking through your underwear, but you're a toy for her pleasure. Any pleasure you get from her is a divine blessing.

Her hands move to the sides of your head, moving you up and down on her cock. Her voice lowers, pleasure starting to get the best of her. "Fuck, Sophie, your mouth feels so fucking good. This is what it was meant for. Not for talking. Not for anything else. Just meant to be a good fuckhole fo me!" She grunts, bucking her hips forward. "Don't you dare swallow!"

The command confuses you for a moment, but that confusion is quickly wiped away as her thick cum begins to pour from the tip of her cock. Rope after thick rope spurts into your mouth and settles on your tongue. You want to swallow as it fills your mouth, but you can't. You won't. You wouldn't dare disobey your owner.

Eventually the outpouring of cum slowly to a trickle and your Domme slides out of you, strings of saliva and cum still linking her softening cock to your lips. She looks down at you. "Well? Aren't you going to thank me for what I've given you?" You start to swallow but she stops you. "I told you not to swallow, didn't I?" Your mind sputters for a moment, trying to parse the commands you've been given. Finally, you manage out a messy "Fhank 'ou, mishtresh..." A bit of cum spills from your lips, trickling down your chin and splattering against your chest. Your Domme chuckles, reaching down to smear the cum over your tits. "God, you have such pretty titties. They're going to look so good once we get you the huge tits you deserve. We could probably go as high as 800ccs on the first go 'round. A pair of nice, round bimbo titties for my gorgeous little doll."

adfzsgxrdhtfjykgul,hbgvc holy shit this is exactly what i need, just girldick and cum in my head instead of thoughts and a loving owner who can see when im thinking too hard and turns my brain off to recover

[rasendamn]

like daylight

🌀 i once believed love would be burning red- but it's golden. 🌀

uzumaki naruto x reader

warning: angst

Rivals (noun): a person or thing competing with another for the same objective or for superiority in the same field of activity.

-> Synonym: Uzumaki Naruto

He was the bane of my existence; his annoying cackle and proclamations of his future as a Hokage.

Yet, he was as warm as the sun, if not warmer.

His nagging attitude gave me headaches whenever we were together; his protector complex and daily combat challenges.

Yet, his eyes were the most calming shade of blue I have ever beheld.

His constant need to one-up me was tiring; his inability to let me fight for once and prove myself.

Yet, he motivated me to become a better person, like he was always capable of doing with our enemies.

He was someone who never gave up no matter how dumb it seemed; his embarrassing need to persist in what he sets his mind to.

Yet, he lead the world into a new phase of hope.

He gave me hope.

His smile, his hair, his strength, even the whisker-like lines adorning his face. They screamed daylight.

A pure, golden beam of warmth. So addicting, and so, so dangerous.

I would be lying if I said I didn't begin to find him attractive after his 3 year absence from Konoha- and if his ninja way was to never go back on his word, mine was to stay true to everyone else and myself.

You can say that it's shallow: switching up from scoffing, arguing and competing to blushing, bantering and protecting. Why? Because of his looks?

Maybe it is, but one should know that it was his character that illuminated mine. I didn't have a wonderful childhood either. But like a coward, I let myself drown in it, while Naruto swum to survival.

He just happened to be the hand that pulled me out with him.

I don't know when he himself changed his mind about me, but I thank whatever God there is that he did.

And here, even as I lay staring up at the mourning sky, I thank that same God for making me strong enough to protect him. Even if it meant breaking his heart by leaving.

The once searing pain in my stomach subsided, and I like to think it's because he's holding me.

They say that the manner of a Shinobi's death is what measures their character. And what a wonderful way to die.

His tears are blessing my fragile state, and his hands are pouring his life into me, and his eyes are urging me to stay.

And despite all that, all I want to do is memorise every inch of him- his beautiful face, his admirable physique, his can-do attitude. What a wonderful way to die.

"Don't cry."

I hear myself say.

I see my hand cup his battle-ridden face, the dimmest I have ever seen it.

"You'll be okay," I bless him with.

He shakes his head furiously, breathing so intense with quivering lips.

Oh, his lips. One of my favourite things about him. I still remember when he first pulled me in. When both of us could no longer hold back.

Dinner at Ichiraku, like always. Only that we couldn't stop the tension from building up anymore.

He walked me home, even though I lived the opposite direction. We even took our time.

Glances here and there. Hands brushing. Laughs permeating the quiet air.

And when he suggested that the night was still young, he brought us to a breath-taking spot overlooking our village.

We talked. And talked. And talked.

Then, under the moonlight and stars, we told each other what we'd been hiding from each other even as teammates.

And slowly, every so slowly, he pulled me towards him. In that moment, I questioned how I was able to live all these years without him with me like that.

He brings me back from my distractions, telling me to stay awake. Telling me that Sakura will be here soon. Telling me that he can't let me go. That I can't leave him.

"Please."

Who is he begging? Who is he asking mercy from? Who is saving me, when I saved him?

Sasuke, my old friend, the person I used to confide in, the little boy I grew up lonely with. Even he stares in disbelief from a distance.

What have I done?

The question is written all over his face. But I forgive him. I understand his hurt. I just wish it could have gone differently. I think we all do.

I hear Naruto curse Sasuke out. And I feel his arms wrap tighter around me. So I kiss his tears away. But they keep coming. I tell him to find it in his heart to forgive, because my sacrifice was not only for him, but for the boy whom my sympathies went out to as well.

"I can't do this without you," he gulps, holding me with such care, like I could break into a million pieces. With him here? Never.

He makes me complete. Whole. Or half? Since he makes up the other.

"Yes," I smile, "You can."

"No-"

"You must." I urge softly, stroking his whiskers, line by line. Stroking his fluffy blonde hair.

"Please," he begs with my name; I love how he says my name.

"Let me bring you to Sakura-chan."

I shake my head again, holding his hand down as he makes a move to leave his fated battle.

Stubborn as ever. What did I expect?

"I gave you an opening, didn't I?" I say with as much grit as I can, trying to sound like my cocky self, "Now what are you gonna do about it?"

He ignores me, the azure in his eyes roaming my face.

"Please," his tears glisten with so much pain, "I can't let this happen. I just got you- I can't- please- I can't lose you now."

I wipe them away again, not caring if my own ran down my face.

"You always had me, Naruto," I whisper to him, "My heart and all. Ever since your annoying self at thirteen declared you hated me."

He cries even harder, hiding his face from me in agony.

"And you'll never lose me," I bring him back to bless me with his gaze, "You think you can get rid of me this easily?"

We both know what I plan on doing, but this man, this boy, isn't only mine. Everyone looks at him to create change in this dark world.

If he was my beam of hope, then he can be everyone else's.

I reach up, swiping a finger gently against his headband to keep it clean, Konoha's symbol adorning him in pride.

"I'm so proud of you, you know?" I focus on fixing stray blonde strands- he can't end this fight with hair I nagged him to cut in fear of obstruction; turns out I am always right, "I just know you'll make a fine Hokage."

He just watches me, freely crying over me, as if protecting the both of us from the rest of the destruction.

“You know, you’re as beautiful as when I first met you,” he plays with my hair out of habit, smiling in reminiscence.

And it seems, he’s also trying to drink in every single detail of me, unwilling to look away in fear of my departure.

"You liar."

I can't break down anymore. For him. I change the topic, needing to let him know that this? This is inevitable. I would much rather spend my last moments in peace with him.

"I can't wait to meet your parents," my voice cracks, for I can't help it any longer.

He sniffs, fighting against his closing throat.

"They'll love you."

We smile at each other, even daring to share a laugh.

He presses his lips to my forehead with so much love, even if it is the gentlest touch he has ever graced me with, "Just like I love you."

He leans in. I wrap my hand around his neck, and we close our eyes to savour this moment.

"I love you." I proclaim.

I pull back, letting him hear the words I have always wanted to say to him.

"Thank you," I say to him, "For everything. For strengthening me. For loving me. For fighting with me. For fighting for me."

All of my feelings, my unspoken words, my hopes and dreams.

No, he is all of that himself. He is everything I feel, every overwhelming thing I can't bring myself to say, every hope, and every dream.

With these parting words, I kissed him one last time, pouring my all into him.

I feel the power of the Tatsu, hidden in me as the only thing I have of my clan, empowering him; this will do well with Kurama's strength. How I'll miss that sly fox, too.

Both of you, keep each other safe.

Then, he can win as I hold his hand, letting him know that he will never rid of me despite his fears.

The will of fire, like it always has, burns brighter than ever.

For he: my rival, my teammate, my loved one, is the flame of hope.

He is the daylight that this world waits to see once more, over the horizon of a new dawn.

🦊🍥

[cheynovak]

The shadowsinger  part 6  

Final part  

Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Y/N, the niece of Lucien, has fled an arranged marriage, only to find herself hunted by her cruel uncle, Beron. Lost in the cold woods, she is discovered by Azriel, who is reminded of his own painful past. He brings her back to Velaris, but the journey is only beginning. 

Warnings: None 

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Many years had passed since that fateful night under the stars when Azriel and Y/N first acknowledged the bond that had always existed between them. Now, they lived in a serene house by the river, a place that mirrored the quiet strength of their relationship. Their home was surrounded by nature, with the gentle sound of the river providing a constant backdrop to their lives, a place where they could retreat from the world and simply be together. 

Despite the peace they found in their home, Azriel noticed how Y/N’s demeanour would change whenever they visited Feyre, Rhys, and their son, Nyx. She adored Nyx, her eyes lighting up whenever she held him, her laughter bright and full of joy as she played with him. Azriel could see it in the way she looked at the child, the quiet longing in her gaze. Y/N was a natural mother, nurturing and gentle, and it broke Azriel’s heart to see the sadness that lingered in her eyes when they returned home to their empty house. 

A few years back, they had decided to try for a family of their own. But while Feyre and Rhys seemed blessed with ease in that regard, it hadn’t been the same for them. Decades had passed, and each year that went by without a child only deepened Y/N’s fear that they might never have one. Azriel could see how the worry and disappointment wore on her, no matter how much she tried to hide it. 

He loved her more than anything and wanted to show her that his love wasn’t tied to whether they could have a child. She was his mate, his partner, and the light of his life. He had been thinking for a long time about how to show her just how much she meant to him, and the idea had slowly taken shape in his mind: he wanted to ask her to marry him. 

It wasn’t that they needed a ceremony or a title to define their relationship, but Azriel knew that this gesture would mean something to Y/N. It would be a way to show her that he chose her, not just because they were fated to be together, but because he wanted to, because he would choose her every day, in this life and the next. 

Determined to make it special, Azriel met up with Rhys and Cassian to discuss his plans. They gathered in a secluded spot overlooking the city, the night sky spread out above them like a blanket of stars. 

“I want to surprise her,” Azriel said, his voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability that only his brothers could detect. “I want to show her that I’m with her, not just because she’s my mate, but because... Well, you guys know what I mean.” 

Rhysand’s eyes softened with understanding. “I think this is a wonderful idea. It’s a way to show her, in a way that’s meaningful to both of you, that your love is a choice, a commitment.” 

Cassian grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. “It’s about time, brother. She deserves to be reminded of how much she means to you. And we’ll help you make it perfect.” 

Together, they planned the details, ensuring that the proposal would be something Y/N would never forget.  

-- 

A few days later, everything was set. Azriel returned home that evening, finding Y/N in their garden by the river, the twilight casting a golden glow over the water. She looked up as he approached, smiling softly as he took her hand in his. He said nothing just picked her up and flew her towards town.  

All the lights were out. 

He put her down softly, “Az, what is this?” She asked but he flew away again, leaving her standing in the town which usually was filled with small lights but was dark now.  

Azriel’s shadows filled the streets. She heard music and started to walk towards it. Y/N walked to the centre of the square, surrounded by the warm glow of candles and the soft petals of golden brown, almost orange roses that had been carefully placed by everyone she loved. Her favorite colour, they were rare, only blooming in autumn court, but it reminded her of Azriel's eyes.

The whole town seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her reaction. "Guys? What is this?" She asks looking at her friends.

Nyx's footsteps echoed in the quiet square as he walked up to Y/N, his bright eyes full of excitement, he turned into a beautiful young adult, but his eyes gleamed like a young child in a candystore. With a beaming smile, he lay a single rose at her feet. Y/N's heart melted at the sight of him. 

Next came Feyre, her smile warm and filled with sisterly affection as she placed another rose at Y/N's feet. Rhysand followed, his presence regal yet comforting, as he added his own rose to the growing circle. One by one, they all approached—Nesta with her fierce loyalty, Cassian with a grin that spoke of brotherly pride, Elain with gentle encouragement, Mor with a wink of approval, Amren with a rare, soft smile, and even Lucien, whose gaze held a mix of emotions as he set down his rose. 

The roses formed an almost perfect circle around her, each one laid with love and care by those she held dear. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stood in the centre, looking around her, the significance of the moment dawning on her. The soft glow of candlelight reflected off the petals, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, making the scene look like something out of a dream. 

And then, through the sea of faces, Azriel emerged, his wings tucked close to his body, his gaze never leaving hers. In his hand, he held two roses, white and black, its purity a stark contrast to the vibrant colour that surrounded her. With every step he took, Y/N felt her heart race faster, her emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, love, and overwhelming joy. 

When Azriel reached her, he gently handed her the roses, his fingers brushing against hers. The world seemed to fade away as she looked up at him, her eyes already glistening with unshed tears. He knelt before her, the sight of him—a warrior, a spymaster, her mate—kneeling in such a vulnerable, loving gesture nearly took her breath away. 

From his pocket, he pulled out a small box and opened it to reveal a ring. The stone, a rich golden-brown that mirrored the depth of his eyes, caught the light in a way that made it seem almost alive. Y/N stared at it, too stunned to fully comprehend what was happening. 

“Will you do me the honor,” Azriel began, his voice steady but filled with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat, “of making me the happiest male in existence and marry me?” 

Y/N’s mind whirled, her thoughts a jumble of emotions that she couldn’t quite untangle. The square was silent, everyone waiting with bated breath for her response. But she was so overwhelmed, so caught up in the sheer beauty of the moment, that all she could manage was a small, squeaky, “What?” 

Azriel’s smile was soft, understanding. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “Will you marry me, Y/N?” he repeated, his voice a tender caress against her frazzled nerves. “Will you be my wife, my partner, and stand by my side for the rest of our lives?” 

The sincerity in his words, the love that shone in his eyes, finally broke through the haze of shock. Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she nodded, her voice growing stronger with each word as she whispered, “Yes… Yes, Yes, YES!" 

Unable to contain her excitement, she swung her arms around him, pulling him close. Azriel, caught off guard by the sudden burst of emotion, lost his balance, and the two of them tumbled down onto the bed of roses that surrounded them. Laughter erupted from both of them as they landed softly among the petals, the fragrant blooms cushioning their fall. 

Y/N didn’t waste a moment. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love, joy, and relief into that kiss. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them lying there, surrounded by the glowing candlelight and the warmth of their shared happiness. 

Azriel pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he whispered, “Of course I will.” 

Their laughter and the cheers of those gathered around them filled the night, but all that mattered to them in that moment was each other. 

-- 

Azriel stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his suit for what felt like the hundredth time. His outfit was a perfect blend of Illyrian leathers and a tailored black suit, symbolizing both his warrior spirit and the importance of this day. Despite his composed exterior, a current of nervous energy coursed through him, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. 

Rhys and Cassian, who had been with him through countless battles and challenges, stood by his side, offering their usual support—though in their own way. Cassian, ever the jokester, couldn’t resist making light of the situation. 

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Rhysand said to ease his friend’s mind, Cassian clapping Azriel on the back. “Yeah! Worst, let's see, maybe if some other high lord would claim her as their mate and whisk her off to another court. No big deal, you can handle that.” He chuckled, giving Rhys a knowing look. 

Rhys shook his head, but there was a smirk on his face. "Cassian, you're not helping," he said, though his tone was light.  

Azriel, however, wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He turned to look at his brothers, his expression serious. “She can still say no,” he muttered, the thought clearly weighing on him. 

Rhys, sensing the genuine anxiety in Azriel’s voice, placed a hand on his shoulder. “Az, she’s not going to say no. She loves you. We’ve all seen it.” Cassian nodded, his earlier teasing fading as he added, “You’re right for each other, Az. She’s not going to change her mind.” 

Azriel took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that refused to settle. "I know. But...” Rhys smiled softly. "It's real, Azriel. And you deserve every bit of it." 

Azriel glanced back at his reflection, the nervousness still lingering but tempered now by the support of his brothers. He nodded, more to himself than anyone else, and straightened his suit one last time. 

"Alright," he said, his voice more determined. "Let's do this." 

-- 

Azriel stood at the altar, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. The soft murmur of the gathered guests, the warm glow of the twilight, and the gentle breeze that stirred his wings all seemed to fade into the background as he focused on the moment ahead. Rhysand and Cassian flanked him on one side, their presence steadying him, while Feyre and Mor stood on the other, their smiles warm and encouraging. 

The altar was a simple, elegant structure adorned with flowers and draped in soft fabric, perfectly framing the scene. Azriel’s gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, where any moment now, Y/N would appear. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. 

Then, as if on cue, the music began to play—a soft, lilting melody that seemed to echo the emotions swirling inside him. The crowd turned, and Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he saw her. 

Y/N appeared at the end of the aisle, her dress flowing gracefully around her, catching the last rays of the setting sun. She looked radiant, her smile nervous yet filled with love. Every step she took brought her closer to him, and Azriel felt his heart swell with a mix of awe, joy, and disbelief that this moment was finally here.  

Her gown was a breathtaking masterpiece, combining elements of elegance, fantasy, and intricate design. The dress was white white copper details, the bodice was fitted, with a delicate blend of golden embroidery that wrapped around her torso and regal floral patterns. The neckline was an off-the-shoulder style, gracefully framing her collarbones, shoulders and curves with soft, flowing fabric, giving an ethereal look. 

The skirt was full and layered, cascading in waves of rich, luxurious fabric, adorned with three-dimensional floral appliqués that seemed to bloom as she moved. The layers were asymmetrical, creating a sense of movement and depth, while golden accents shimmered with every step she took. 

The train was long and dramatic, with sparkling lights embedded within the fabric, twinkling like stars against the night sky. The intricate golden details extended down the train, creating a visual spectacle that was both enchanting and awe-inspiring. 

As she stepped forward, the entire ensemble came together to create an image of Y/N as the last shining star in Azriel’s universe, radiant and glowing. Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes, captivated by her beauty, his heart swelling with emotion as she approached the altar. 

He took her hand as she stepped up beside him, his breath catching in his throat. His mouth opened, but the words he wanted to say seemed to escape him, leaving him awestruck by her beauty. "Y-You... you look..." he stammered, struggling to find the words that could truly capture what he felt. 

Seeing his stunned expression, she smiled warmly, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "You do too," she replied, her voice full of affection and a touch of amusement. 

Their fingers intertwined as they stood together, the ceremony passing by in what felt like the blink of an eye. Vows were exchanged, and they slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers—rings as black as coal.  Mor, standing nearby, seemed momentarily confused by their choice of rings. But to Y/N and Azriel, it made perfect sense. 

As they sealed their marriage with a final, tender kiss, they both felt the familiar warmth of the magic that bound them, a new tattoo forming on their arms—a symbol of their promise, their eternal bond. 

Y/N hadn’t wanted just a ring, and neither had Azriel. The rings matched the ink on their arms, symbols of their unbreakable connection, a visible sign of the promise they made to each other.  

To be together,  

Forever.

--

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Taglist: @paintedbyshadows @lilah-asteria

[smollbean42905]

Out

Aphrodite Hart was a girl known for her style. Before the world ended, she was always in dresses and bows since her parents taught her to always look put together. In this world, soulmates are a thing, only a few a year that are born get one. Aphrodite was one that was blessed to have one, she's been searching for them since she found out. But the search was put to a halt when the world ended.

Aphrodite Hart tries to keep the things she grew up with, but stopped that mentality when her parents were bitten and she had to kill them. With no siblings or friends by her side she had to take on the world by herself.

Aphrodite walked around, blood soaked and rusty knife in hand, and her favorite dress on caked in blood. The dress was to small seeing as she's grown, it's been a few years since the end so she's grown from 12 to 16. Her chest presses against the fabric tightly so tight she can barely breath, she looks around in the city she's wondered into and found a store free of walkers. She goes inside and sees no one, she holds her breath while walking around. What she doesn't notice is the person in the corner, a young man who looked at Aphrodite with hunger.

Hunger that could only be fed sexually, the man stood and slowly went to the oblivious girl. She looks around the small building and sees clothing, she goes over and picks up another dress. She shoves it into her large black bag and keeps walking around, not knowing of the strange man. She steps on glass, which hurt her bare feet, and she takes a step back to look at what she stepped on. The display case nearby was shattered and glass was strown everywhere, she looks at the bottom of her foot and sees a cut, she ignores it for the time being and straightens up.

As soon as she straightens up, she's taken to the ground and flipped onto her back. She lets out a scream, a scream that almost deafens the man on top of her. He looked crazy, bloodshot eyes and dark eye bags. He has some cuts on his face and his arm was bloody, he had been bit...

"Please no..."

"Please yes" he moves her hair out of her face and sees that she's missing an eye, no bandage, just an empty cavity. Almost like someone dug out her eye... The man ignores it and looks down at her body. The man tried to rip off her dress to have some fun...

After those excruciating 20 minutes, Aphrodite is left on the floor in pain. From the glass in her back, and from in between her legs, where blood stained her skin. She curls up onto herself, feeling disgusted. This isn't the first time an event like that has happened to her but she still felt gross. Her skin crawled, and itched like bugs were all over her body. The girl stares up at the ceiling as tears slowly fall down her cheek. She sniffles once then sits up and tries to cover herself. Dite looks around and sees a cardigan, she gets up quickly, regretting it, and grabs the cardigan. It's very big on her so she hopes it'll provide some comfort and warmth. She hugs herself and finally leaves the building with her knife in hand. She sees her reflection: long black hair with slight waves, a deep blue hue under her almond shaped eyes, some hair pulled back into a white blood stained bow hair clip, her hair was messy and her eyes were puffy.

"Gotta look good for my soulmate, no matter what" she fixes her hair and keeps walking, everything is bare, to bare, it's ominous how quiet everything is. She can hear as wind goes by and the ground beneath her feet. Her, already growing, anxiety spikes as her mind runs and she decides to leave the city. She runs out and goes into the woods, a sanctuary and has been for a while.

Aphrodite has been alone since the beginning, especially after finding out that she's immune to zombie bites. She met a doctor very early on and she explained that all those who have soulmates are immune. Speaking of soulmates, the girl looked down at her wrist, the outline of a sheriff star staring at her. She touches it gently slowing her walk creating a shiver down her spine, a pleasant one, she does this every few days since soulmates can contact each other using the mark they were born with. She does it so her soulmate knows she's alive, after a few minutes of waiting she gets the same shiver again and smiles. She continues her walking as she ventures deeper into the woods. She smiles a bit to herself and looks around, she starts to hum softly, so softly it's just above a whisper to try and not signal to anyone or anything where she is.

But, Aphrodite starts to feel light headed. She pauses her walk for a moment as the world begins to spin, her head gets heavy and her eyes feel weird. Her body feels cold as she leans and her eyes roll back as she slams against a tree. Her side stays against the tree as her head goes forward, the bark keeping her up as she passes out from blood loss.

[naturespeaksbypel]

A Word From A Bird

PEL. A Word From A Bird. (London, United Kingdom.) Acrylic.

Sound Effect of blackbird birdsong by Der_Sternfahrer from Pixabay.

Now here is a little and large poem Which we hope, in our hearts will find a home. And if we love it and give it our blessing, It will have the freedom, to roam and roam. Now, to bring it to life, with colour and sound, We found, it's meant to be read or sung aloud. For strange to us, as it may seem, We may get the feeling, we're talking to a crowd. We may get the feeling, we are talking to the unseen. For it carries its own hidden music and rhyme, Which seems to get better and louder in time.

And as we know, we all like good news, Because good news creates more good news. So we have taken care, to use kind and thoughtful words. We listened to our trees and we listened to our birds. We listened to the Oceans and to the free herds. We listened to the Fire, burning brightly. We listened to the Wind, blowing lightly. We listened to the Earth, day after day And here's what they, all have to say.

"Let's forgive the mistakes of the past And stop worrying about the future, For the die has been cast. Just live in the present, to see what it brings. For the times that are coming, will show us, Some amazing new things."

But first a big thank you for the paper, That carries this poem. For we must remind ourselves please, Who really pays without a murmur or a moan. It is not you or me, Nor the birds nor the fish in the seas, But rather, our courageous and caring, terrific trees. Though we give it little thought, our trees pay the price, Every single day, so let's be nice. Let's give them in this poem, one free page, For our fast oncoming Magical New Age. To listen to them, to let them have their say.

And though much of our World Is in such a big and scary shamble. It only takes one with courage, To take a little gamble. To believe the trees; To listen to the breeze within the leaves. And if we believe, their simple little message in this. We may find our life in time, could become just bliss. We may find, we might even fly like a bird. After all, it's only one colour, one note, one word. So why not try it. Test it out. We have nothing to lose, except our pain, And if we don't like it, we can throw it back out, Until we're ready, until it comes around again.

So now it's time, to clean up the Planet. Come on John, it's up to you and Janet. Let's start right now and begin to plan it. There's no time to wait for the rest. First we're going to end starvation, Then it's more conservation, re-forestation and preservation And that's just one solution. We’re so fed up with our own pollution. It's time for our gentle revolution. So come on, it's up to us, let's do our best.

And when we decide just to, let go our Hell, For those that have fallen, for those that fell. And when we decide to let go our fear and sorrow, To create for our children, a safe and happy tomorrow. And when, to our frightened and excited surprise, We begin at last to slowly realise, That sometimes, we are the Devil in disguise And sometimes, we are as bright as Angel's eyes. Then we can help us all, let go the war, As we learn and grow and have some fun, Like we know we did, many times before. After all most of us, are in the dark, travelling blind, Searching for that spark, which one day, we're bound to find, Waiting for our children, to discover their own happy pilgrim.

So attention Trees. Stand at ease God's Grace. Our Grace Hurray, thank you. Now we've had our say. And with no further ado, Here's our little Fairy Story, Called The Phantom For us and for you.

PEL

PEL. Walpole Park. (London, United Kingdom.) Acrylic.

[libidomechanica]

And disapped like to their selfishness

A limerick sequence

               1

Guessing murmurs thou must not on a strange. Going streight. And disapped like    to their selfishness! Since    than nursed of coal then he right I not on the sobs of her goods.

               2

Which harts, what rooted arre. I rings and pinch a dark garden arrows pain. Whom    that was fill me, that when    we cease me make, and what heath her Johnny do, and masked her blis.

               3

Thought on myself their late, but little grave! Hath envy mast tossed her tongue since,    and despair from all the    close made; that of that raw and painfull smart. And with his glass gang.

               4

He did not euer should blue quite for my braine. And might, and joining down by that    air tongue, the grassy airlesse    lay in the streets of that poverthrow. This an unto me.

               5

I will for her fayrest begun, and for pitty, he’ll as dull-ey’d rainbow,    thousand stalked our selfe condemned    be backward languishment. I shall I ask thee, my own first.

               6

I shut within her huge mast that path? Th’ exactest showed the clouds run    slowly came wedded brough    the Winterpose my parts main of my life? Why stay to the see.

               7

All conduct and gone, puffed vp with bursting to disgrace you receive. I die,    as the glow of your and    peake full of beauty’s husband desire, as Horace the wood.

               8

Hate my Maud by thy vertues open fires found the charms a strange till teach other    could demand stay till.    And prayer on the not, by slays me worse well, yet is Silia!

               9

But that poverty—hospitable to ye, my lids opens men begins    to bed. And yse when our    name: with his as the blooded in dark lawn, to leave you this all.

               10

Sweet eye-lids are chearful hunt the owls have grief house-clocks and yearning, o    heavenly perhaps before    hems. Hey be you and gone, intent trembled maybe neither, Flock.

               11

The dooth serues they kiss on a few, which all beguilefull speed i’ the    World. And mask in spotlesse    no plead: the wings, spice his become to thou calm oblivion.

               12

For which the heau’nly darkness, a frame, with heauen doe my lad, I set a straight    and eye’s deep breaking of    the meant; my misery even ravellers. For Betty, go!

               13

Yet so long and prepare you said he marrying if love I blessing by    mood, some patience, describably    defylde, my soul betide? In the gate the door, a hole.

               14

Empires on the pony to spoke not with that to hard, not movement? And    all liue, and heels arrived,    feast die; for relenting stretch, to knit the love or ridicules.

               15

In conceiue, an’ a’ should hard and lo, when love. He kitchen charm, that flooded it.    And to her chearfull yre    of a pray, a mother abstaine where be drawes that we will.

               16

Him whom nobody then noon. A dank, sick of herself in painfull of the    same; if that is not sigh.    Own length of Morn when she’s high love said she landlord’s casement?

               17

That hath endow’d stirrup fiddle of summer dust was not for shame by that    to the talking    inseparable that which she come, shrinks, that birds; nor rues manifold?

               18

Because no more trainsoaked Leda wit doth cries me proue. What might advance    my heauenly did make a    sot, all for mate, why are none ever sland. Ne ought doth smother.

               19

Then, two Ifs in ours! By take, and the more wet with payneful valleys; I    do detest of garded    still. The eats in mind is increase, still and he spreds at Easter.

               20

Let no more to croon. Still I said the goods. Nor and wandering of drunkards    which bounded guest, alive    or giue leathes, and one enemyes. Thy father now she’ll take.

               21

I kiss tho’ father stubborne? Sweets thou didest thou shall bands, or her solitaring    beat. What come, and    saw the chang’d: they stone. Of a gardens euery woman, but ah!

               22

For shames or decay: for All—None loue she of so ill, is fine this careless    might, and home. Narcissus    vayne man seuer; nor limb—oh God comfort of him? Who with inspire?

               23

To be Judge— by spirit and cold night! I never pant, in which, ere longe haue    endure through launcient to    the for you roam; no ridge the huge oak whose fruitles rot answer.

               24

Is by weakened to be taughter.—Nature increase alike. Hollows normally    one is anywhereof,    while. Sweet says Betty prison for in which this shade my husband.

               25

Original room with stay of thine worse fayth doth run his loues her with pleasing    waterfall, at powers    of my darting, or curled to me hast beauty. From a tear.

               26

I must display, the sweet and sin: and grieved so of your brilling his folded    them rises up Prospect    I my madness, painted praise; now the corne as loud spright? No wise.

               27

I’m suppose from Grimm seeping yougth to pick unto high to mell, by mistress    the needs a goather deadly    you every day, to huntresse. She short thought to desert sand.

               28

His window spred, where Lord of creater. On these cruelly him staru’d: so pleasures    are of all the hear    and Gibson’s mother the sun-flowers as in a piteous past.

               29

That is inseparable, she found ancholy in another was never    yet at everywhere    she live. Filled its astonishment full responsibility.

               30

From the flying sensually triumph sat, as is braunce. Turn his first me; and    was should bring, and now how    it, could be queen will did Margaret lowly flashing him the head.

               31

How heauen forth toyes, timing! Fond Thou abandon’d worse, that more her ran threttie is    too refines, a spider    every side no place bends and delves, but nothings, those hands of plaste.

               32

Turning                            when I waxed old in his hand. With amazement out of the ioyous high    upon the evening hotnesse.    Because of the pays, alien towre, which is wife, be-times.

               33

That the wise! I dared before had been bountenance tell; go troubled him in    his legs, in groans, poor Man!    For in they are that girt and now shine of king. And latest Prince?

               34

They door idiot boy? I’ll come to the moon is not tell what often doth    it can paus’d at simple    truth disdaynfull vices doe ruin earth my tormes, the room.

               35

And masked before, but delight, wish the sky sagged higher-seated eye’s deeme, and    calendars, less view, which    the villain for that ye sharpe his working his jacket beside.

               36

I set in virgin of entrapped each her dead eyes gray morning in the    aquarium tenderness    infant chickest lykewise made of Chloe knockers beside.

               37

Black have been teeth beauties skies. Called longing yougth too, and the garden-fence    forgotten a day, ayming    in blackened with the let naebody mock has good manifold.

               38

The sinister, your handman onion. Of rain come in chest thy shame, the waves    a byrd this mother eyes    and stillness plant flames, one fingertips, the noyous day common kissed.

               39

Who surely wel-form’s fathers of clay. The lower to faire be all is dead    again that when, beauty    bound: to hate; and a rustice; but al my dear; nor courselves.

               40

There the booing my benumb us at Helluo, late dishonor, shall her    idiot boy? Now stand    thrise on the used that vnder taste, my own like the built a-twinkle.

               41

How to the Wild. When those the blest I have weren for thirst my sight, some seen    faith ioy to her haughter;    and a hurt me, whom fresh again dropped for when he same her fill.

               42

All the fyre, in his through our minutes tell; but your further head, and past the    passion have seene corage    and dark moor, a cat, at only the vaine? Achieve me, his gone.

               43

And act pertain round as thing waues tell me with you I loved that for them hath    being that did not be    sin which Thee so wild Priests of ioyes, to come you. Now of France take.

               44

Innumerable Armytage, “Yes. We parisoner foul affliction,    what to me. Eye where they    captyued hed comes to Susan right doth felonous forced the told.

               45

For Sovereigne Queene. My Brother’s peppere. Or her spies me with all the was    walked out a rage, cried, you    plaining free of loues proue and branch the surprize at woman layes.

               46

Tho doth argument laugh sorrowes vpon my words of blooded you hardest    day I wrote the bridge than    see; it had a girl. I kiss, my ivy garment on parish.

               47

The little desert before from the shirt, smell life out into all sport my    part. Only uselesse    and of please a scullery pray: yet if her sorowe sermon.

               48

The hyghest with changed force, became one of nature, our neighbour, and mayden    Queene. I will but for then    fair wives, but bitter once seemed to cross forts, glad told man to die.

               49

Whose engender is lyke as ye were’t not let him wel vnderstand in her    eye that of the moonlight,    Irene. His fading state: if the fragrance of what wake? Of this.

               50

—Which for us, to seal, one is become an auncient treadiness, and hearty    meal she is as in    a sad Winterposed; pleasing breeze me out. Affect widow.

               51

Ought, and the flames impart. Gone among mile far. What my sight, the comfortlessed,    after vpon this spotlesse    it seem a virtue, whole in at thou,—finding well. Me out.

               52

I wander, none light; But give mind that may entangle about me morning,    heart! Her the honour forhead—    and the grace: in which the sphere; her husband down when I kisse.

               53

Of that cover. As Sappho frowns, we joining itself nor nor of lusteth    instincture man love alone    another theyr leave to approve, behold young would its sheep.

               54

Two of your to the world. Man next, a bit me intreate, enaunce: but, link, but    the Starrs, and heauenly was    rayse and aver the first in her as it was a plot of grief.

               55

Which the early: That’s in my foes, a power of sorrow seas, and pith, something    branch the wind. Many    a hill did beggars rage, poor codille; spleenful pride. No less?

               56

And I see at length our low boughs to me. Than came warfare upon E in    a moon shall how to his    colours she uplandscape, that winter, among the satyrs joy.

               57

’ My Katie! With figures greene, and my loue pine with his prison your foot-way    pats thou sufferent out.    Wise wren warbled freckle, unders she, you faltering the grave.

               58

A shadows when the Lyonesse. I should more from cruel! Allured, so unmov’d; I    have had such saint or borne    the would notarize our finger worthy top is traveller?

               59

That is carry member you oil my name vpon the rises livery so    many I knew the air    and accept the hath dark with you know of a match those line, mind?

               60

And and and blest, this is twain, and fright so. You doth dimd her of the begins    her brest. Thy corbe shepherd’s    black landlord’s reft her, we say, Remember, this back to the fault?

               61

So I came again heaven of a soldier wrath. That placed to say my fresh    againe myself alcohol,    to words. No more hope, her hears had picture and all the nose.

               62

But she beaten with his enoughts to the seabeaten hyde, and for they quit    for now half of our heart    may see. Then abate, made your lips on the stand you were praysed.

               63

Late and when she came one. With other taste of a Host, nor heard one, and born,    any she’s greate, made itself    to built with graced teach the city’s broken city; I feel?

               64

And so the sky. Mighty flurries me green valleys. In perceive heard your    idiot boy, what we still    see, through theyr want? And now we feet. And leash, we owe too be kept.

               65

Forget though many a hills there, but how oh love the had neuer by hap.    For some civilizational    proudly to unlikely tale passed so I and equals?

               66

All that I’m after vpon which beats inconstant. Oft whereof wheat was all, was    gladly display’d; you fearful    an ever wonne how, above dappled with and euer itself.

               67

And buddhist my scorner-panes. Of her my flashing river all thinks his fold    with some paradise, till    I never dwell, my hair wit: then my hart, I lookes aspire?

               68

Heart that hapless, what are them, the watred with his giftes of a trains, in    smiling the inner? Since    I go, in ever new; sure, and lookery state: if all think.

               69

That same a might hand drew me that Johnny’s held in the Faery Queene cordialls    moon or to entertaine.    Nay is well ones, to kill thrush sang loue merry nor the go-cart.

               70

Love been from thou do enjoy, you of the cruelty doth makers and your    life and seen heath her heard    with ioy, thus, bats with her breasts but have no more I have common.

               71

But shade of glee: a poets his rapier stubborn flowre, in which her I!    Which we view she’s hat    bedewed away. For in thing waues, pass’d in the cannot by kind.

               72

That what paint raine. I have clocker, monster- handed Baronet her night-birds,    and love whale-bone recognized    the could hell, but little her. And verse she burne, the mountains.

               73

By reasonable, she mildly powers do not tell meat could never a dark    inn-yard and within his    legs are now quoth hart, doth flower-fence. Poor truest crowd hello.

               74

Or if I had no read of they draught he music of rose fourty year; but    without ashes well shell    as ill perish, or my weak. Love’s eternal part and resumed.

               75

Defining and made wretch! A youth all cloudy evening saw the night or drest    him alone, how chime. The    roar back winged forbid it my ear; no, then shall love me not more.

               76

Nor me: the mortals, yet for me back again defiaunce my selfe ye misse. A    poet’s vertue on me singing    from purblind; woman’s side throughout lyke lilly lamenesse.

               77

Only my selues did thaw, and drizzling down us where thee and analys’d    you with most enuide.    Was just for City. Yet sowre of my selfe new Pandora see.

               78

How charms and gentle malady, then shall breath girland, flutter in our selfe    has chaunge of the garden-    gate with either hands ye was just getting pour mind? I seek, break.

               79

But now if euer reaching vp sterne courselves, the will Yes. If this dear; but    of senses found; if we    will to seek I cannot entertayne, and bowre of right, Irene.

               80

My thou, with the pride, is it see why song about mercy too: I taste, my    life and its astray. Poor    hear to me, and wrapt in the body were one she will be dumb?

               81

My son. Since I in not one like tyrant a sore. All not pleasure, became    tumbling a first at sends    the wrong, the ground; which the tongue is he town so gay be unjust.

               82

Is vaine would lift to fight, I find you gave decreasing Zephires of that    walls, his face the team happy.    To last at all those sweet and through-in myne foeman, halloo!

               83

And forbid it augment show all about hurdles of my deaf that lookers    bene more hate? On this    is their amazed you so long blossomes, while wanted to end.

               84

Such subterranean departest; and died, courage them go squawking sit    like her that neuer tongues.    Ye, my judgment which, like waited good thine of a world this more.

               85

There bene more, ready of whip on. Her or blow, beat triumph is fulfild,    how grey, and the dale, to    travelling after I went still that on a blessed sky. This, and meek!

               86

As I heart to unsluice she did cruel! Of a treason for every side my    leftovers. The last, to    take some on singing itself them scarcely lyke Narcissa’s mind.

               87

Now I should drove to these dainty odours cruell, by mists are she sad end: the    looking up you sight before,    by Honours and learne to view: with joy. Ne any merth, wise!

               88

He which beauty it make the soon was long her boy, you were visit us    no gunners least and fall    other lips he’s out lyke in vainly stew a crust. To rambles.

               89

Do adore how she weeks, but in my blossoms white they crier of Winterpret    warily should faint    to the peacefully. As well—but in brasen to accept hole.

[petalstumblingdown]

Fallen Friendships.

It’s not ideal, but it seems like I’ve stumbled into a dark tunnel that I can’t seem to muster the will to get out of. Metaphorically speaking. I’ve been blessed with the ability to easily connect with people, but unfortunately my brain is attached to the idea of what friendship should look like. Most importantly: friends should want to be around, and they should want to move passed disagreements because having the other person in their lives is most important. I haven’t followed my own idea, and now I’ve left a trail of broken friendships on my path to today. Now I’ve even started breaking bridges of social and familial relationships.

A few months ago, my brother’s wife told me she was hurt by a joke I made, but that’s just me. I joke and tease the ones I love, because they do the same to me. As does she, usually. I think I was just hurt that she took offense to some ‘I’ said, since she should know I think the world of her. Something so small made my walls fly up, and I ended up telling my brother it was easier to just not interact with her, because I couldn’t handle the situation. A fundamental part of my personality was causing pain for one of the people I love most in life. I can’t sensor myself. I talk a lot, I have almost no secrets, the only things I keep to myself are things like this, depressing thoughts that aren’t going to help anyone I love to know about because they’re not just going to go away. It’s easier to stay away than risk hurting her again. This is one of the most frustrating facets of my personality.

My insecurities have too much power over me, and many have come into existence through my experiences and strong emotions. Honestly, I’m tired of being disappointed by friendships. I love fiercely, deeply and I’m loyal to a fault. But that love is not unconditional. I’ve disagreed with choices people have made, and these points of contention, no matter how trivial, have ended those relationships. It takes little more than one time for this to happen before a person can begin to wonder if they’re so easily thrown away. And let’s just say that it’s happened to me a lot. I can only see a perspective as I am able, and it just leaves me waiting. I’m always waiting for them to turn up one day, so that I can mend whichever bridge has broken. (Yes, I am a bit of a doormat for people I love.) But, they have to make that step towards me. I feel too insecure in my own self worth to chase them because I don’t believe that I am worth the effort. Some have probably sensed this anxiety and stayed away because of it. It’s a lot to expect the other party to be the bigger person when both parties are hurt and disappointed.

Honestly my self worth is through the ground, it really couldn’t get any lower. I’m alive by the grace of my parents’ love, and how fiercely they’ve instilled the idea that they need me to exist and be around. Thankfully, no one could tell I’m like this just by looking at me, or through conversation; it would kill my family if they knew how easily I’d throw away my life if it meant they were able to be unburdened. But no price is worth the grief and shattering of my family. Unfortunately that also keeps me trapped here, slowly wasting away. And since I’ve managed to push away all my friends and am not seeking more people to befriend, I’ve stuck myself in a difficult position. But I’m just really, really tired. I have a lot to give, but I also ask so much. Besides, I’ve met a lot of good, amazing people, so the fault is entirely my own. I wish I wasn’t born this way. And for so long I’ve wished I was never born at all, I’d rather someone else more worthy of this blessed life were here in my stead. The concept of erasing someone from existence I feel, would be freeing, with no grief or guilt to worry about. Everyone deserves a trial at life before they are expected to go on for an unknown amount of years until the people who love them are gone; or worse, if they are to be at the mercy of worse circumstances.

On a lighter note, I know a lot could improve in my life if I gain some self confidence. Unfortunately, I’m scared to work on myself, in order to love myself more. I’m terrified by what I know about the world. In my opinion, it’s easier to be ugly and hate yourself, than be beautiful and risk the dangers that come with it. An amazing mix of personal experiences and an overactive imagination. Thankfully I’m able to manage the worst of my depression with said overactive imagination and love of stories and games. It also helps that I’m blessed in many ways. It’s easy to remember why I need to keep working and keep smiling, in darker moments like these.

Well, since I’ve now basically broken all the bridges that have ever existed in my life, it means I might be writing here more often. I think I’ll skip the tags though. There’s no advice needed for this, not that I’d probably take it anyway. I just have to hope my ability to immerse myself in hobbies will tide me over till the next time I’m mopey enough to post again.

[probablymystories]

[retrieved 2]

I will never be twenty five again

I am blessed, and I am grateful growing up and never losing my inner child, my inner spark and most important of all my ugly laughter of joy.

2022, You have been so kind and gentle to me from the beginning to the end. I am nothing but with immensity of gratitude. This year feels like gentle breeze, gentle waves crashing and splashing with tons of sunshine. The first time in many long years I feel at home once again in my own body.

I still can recall the torment of 2017, took my first step into 20s and lost my loved one who was all along three quarters of myself. With both my grandparents gone, my world was torn apart and I was lost to pain to the point of retorting to medication for saving. I needed saving. Support system matters, kind words heal, but know when to seek professional and medical help if things really go south. It's terrifying to acknowledge that our thoughts do take forms. I did not even have enough conscience to worry that if i dwell, I will lose my future after all the things I have worked so hard for. Sadness has no bound, and it consumes you whole. With everything slowly comes together and I once more feel the life inside the veins and belong to myself again, it's a relief to finally put all the torment behind the veil.

It was a tough year, and years that followed were periods of healing. Some days were sunshine, and others were thunderstorm. "I never wanted to die, but I no longer wanted to live." was best described my grief. I spent my entire childhood with my grandparents, and with their passings, it was not just the fully grown me that suffered, but my whole happy memories of being a kid and carefree was shattered into tiny fragments. I made it each day collecting and retaining the piece. It is a work in progress. I'm not lessening the importance of others I still have in life, but when a person grieves, they lose all the big picture.

During those difficult months of covid, I came across a line from the internet 'living everyday with gratitude.' So I explored further, giving thanks to every little things in life, people who matter, and people who make you see you matter. When you were stuck at home with limited access to have fun, you spent more time with yourself. Saying this as though my entire life, I haven't already spent time with myself more than with anyone else. It definitely wasn't the best period of life or the proudest accomplishment to be remembered, but without the pandemic I wouldn't have had all the time in the word to dig within, reconnect and get to know my inner self this much. I discovered what brings me peace and what brings me pain. For certain, to put astray all the things and people that hurt. Leave them on the page we already flipped through and progress forth. I do not do the forgive-forget ceremony, I just carry on. Similarly to people who walk the grief, we don't move on, we move forward.

Being grateful for all the things that went right, people that did our heart good, and moments we were so happy that the heart inflated has been a healthy way to cope and live abide, rather than lingering over the sour experiences that wear us down. My way of seeing and living in the world has been altered as I used to be so clouded of worries and insecurities. I still have tons of them, but they cannot affect me as much. Metaphorically and of personal observance, for a plant's life, all energy are gathered and sent to that part of a new growth. Then the sprout begins to make appearance and forms another healthy stem. Very similar to the human mind, we grow thoughts we focus on. My concentration has shifted from loathing myself for everything that goes wrong, to appreciating and being grateful for every small thing that goes right. I am less heavy and I am free. Somewhat, we all want to keep having more sprouts that grow into a healthy plant.

This year, I have learned to understand and accept not only myself anymore, but all things. I learn to embrace and honor my vulnerable traits which I have been advised to work on, change, adapt, so I can become 'better', reach out and reach within, practice gratitude, learn the art of indifference, open up and connect. A child of dreams and fantasies, I continue to have faith.

It all started with a scribble from my gratitude journal:

I am idealistic and a dreamer, but for certain, I am capable of weighing opinions and decisions. I wear my heart on my sleeves, and I have done plenty of embarrassment of myself for being vulnerable and breaking down in public. I am highly sensitive and empathetic since birth and the traits seem to grow stronger as I age, but without them, I will lose the very core foundation of what makes me, me. I soften and I will continue to soften in a domain that teaches "if you want to survive, you need to toughen up".

I cry so often, and I get hurt very easily, which I despise very much because it makes me undependable and weak. But at that very same time, it allows me to fully understand and experience the fragility of life. I aspire to be nothing of great importance, but to grow old with grace and compassion.

I am grateful for everything now and for everything that will be.

You cannot really accept anyone if you haven't already accepted yourself. I am beyond words when told that around me, they feel safe. Being the harbor for others when I didn't get to have the harbor myself, that is perhaps my life's greatest milestone.

Never an act of following the bandwagon of trends or attempting to have them worn as accessories or mimicking someone of idolized figure, regardless. I just shut out the chatters and listened to the little voice from within, so i went to get my first tattoos at twenty five. The tiny drop of ink is a healing mantra. I feel light, connected and whole. It's an important takeaway, sometimes all healing we need is to listen to ourselves. We live on a borrowed time, so we might as well just do 'it'. The it can be diverse to all of us, but as long as it does not cost anyone's harm and their peace, and it makes you happy,

do.

Allow people to feel joy because being happy is a true luxury.

Learn to love and see yourself as you are, so you can do the same to others for who they are beyond the ugly, the discreet, the unwanted we all try so hard to conceal.

After all, in the vast cosmos, we're only specks of dust.

There are words from books I have picked quite a while and got to finish this year that have helped me stay afloat. I'm grateful to have have crossed those beautiful lines, experience and wise words of advice.

The beauty of what remains

Stoicism and the art of happiness

The empath survival guide

You are psychic: the art of clairvoyant reading and healing

Chatter

Attitude of gratitude

It's ok than you're not ok (my absolute favorite. a book understands me more than anyone could.)

Farewell, 2022. Farewell, twenty five.

In the years that will come, I hope to laugh just as much.

"the longer I know you, the more I don't know you"

How do I respond even. Same goes for me.

31.12.22