#lady vindict

[jessicas-ocs]

been a WHILE since i posted and so here, have some quotes i got from an incorrect quote generator

Rune: Apparently, it was Rude™ of me to pitch in my two cents on a conversation I happened to overhear, despite agreeing with them. Rune: On an unrelated note, I am no longer allowed in the ceiling vents. --- Katka: So, I heard you like bad girls… Katka: I'm bad. Katka: At everything. Katka: *winks with both eyes* --- Eris: I am not a lunatic. I have the psychiatric report to prove it. A slender majority of the panel decided in my favor. --- Aylan: In alcohol’s defense, I’ve done some pretty dumb things while completely sober too. --- Jadan: Do you even, cuddle, bro? Do you even lift, bro… each other up with kindness? Do you tell your loved ones that you care about them regardless of who is listening? DO YOU EVER RESOLVE CONFLICTS, EMOTIONAL ISSUES THROUGH COMPROMISE AND COMPASSION RATHER THAN ANGER AND DENIAL?! --- Vindict: Am I a good person? No. But do I try to be better every single day? Also no. --- Diani: I am not an early bird or a night owl. I am some form of permanently exhausted pigeon. --- Shipper: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now Buttons has to physically restrain me from putting a light bulb in my mouth  --- Aaray: Assert your dominance over your friends by stabbing them through the chest, and then giving them a little smooch on the forehead. --- Esme as a child: I can’t wait to grow up and have cool adventures! Esme now: I can’t wait to go to bed. --- Zhaya: No problemo! Zhaya, internally: But it was all problemo. --- Edessa: I can't stay tonight; I have work to do. Calder: But, Dessie, I'll be so lonely without you! Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Edessa: …are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Calder: Calder: Is it working?

[cutemeat]

the girl!mac

[ikilledamanforthisurl]

i know hating on Kai Winn is like lame and uncool and nobody supports women's wrongs of me but she's like if they put my mother in my television

[gongedtornado]

going back to sleep. heres some assorted doodles

[acasternaut]

watching later seasons episodes of sunny will have you asking yourself why does everyone hate dee so much. this is getting annoying

[lightspren]

me, beating back the brain demons with a stick: you! will! not! be! a sour bitch today!

my brain demons: fucking watch

[rosemarie333]

Astro Observations/Opinions (Tropical Astrology Edition) Part Two

Hey guys! Thank you for the support of my last tropical edition🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾! I appreciate y’all so much!

I can’t wait to share what observations I have, so let’s start!

These are based on my perspective of placements and signs, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t🫶🏾 I’d love to hear y’all’s take as well!

1. Pluto in the 1st house/Scorpio ascendants are secretive when it comes to their private life but at the same time if you really knew one you’d know that they don’t have anything special to their lives (NO SHADE ONE BIT) they just hide themselves and the more they hide the more interested people are of them but once they share it’s kinda like 🫥. like it’s the climax we expect but when in reality is just like everyone else’s. They are very magnetic and alluring HEHE like they walk in a room and EVERYONE cocks their heads but tbh they’re just like everyone else they just have a great way of hiding it to seem like it’s otherwise. For instance, we all wanna know BEYONCÉ and most people wish she wasn’t so secretive but at the same time her life consists of traveling, motherhood, touring, and singing and dancing like tbh in the grand scheme of things is very mundane. Not saying there’s nothing interesting abt her (NOT SAYING THAT AT ALL) but their lives are mundane (like the lady gaga meme “bus, another club, no sleep) like they do the same shit😭 imo (like there so only but so much they can do that’s new and interesting as opposed of what she’s been doing for 20 years atp) But at the same time, when they do share a part of themselves, people become extremely aggressive and provoked by the pluto in the 1st house for NO REASON (like beyoncé sharing her hair videos and people were so negative and saying that it was weave when it clearly isn’t, black women can grow long hair yk????) ESP when her daughter blue ivy was teared apart in the media for having more features of Jay Z than beyoncé like imagine having your child being hated and trashed on for something they can’t control???? no wonder why they don’t share and are secretive because people really tear apart what they have so🥺just my two thoughts but also some are overly secretive for no reason at times like 😀

2. Pisces placements are just as vindictive as scorpios lol like…. don’t let their delusional quirk fool you. yes are they delusional, YES AND they shouldn’t be hated for it all the time imo bc they are a very sensitive sign (like anyone with pisces or neptune personal aspects will understand like CRYING over the littlest thing, very emotionally receptive and can feel others emotions like mf) butttttrrrr sometimes they can use that against you lol

3. Gemini placements get wayy too much hate for no reason like 😭two faced and be called ANYTHING out the woodwork Lmao and not to say it isn’t true but at the same time gemini’s really are chameleons and they can get along and with anything and anyone tbh. Doesn’t mean they’re two faced for having completely different personalities, they really just blend in with any group they want to, they are veryyyygy mentally smart and have a great way of words. gemini placements are extremely perceptive too which people forget😭like GEMINIS CAN READ A BITCH really fast and that’s a underestimated part of them. Tbh in tarot they rule the lovers and i feel like if we’re going to hate on anyone it should be the devils (LMAO capricorns as they are ruled by them in tarot but i’m just kidding no sign should be hated more than the next)

4. Leo risings are insecure and they make people insecure very easily. Leo’s really do overpower a room like scorpios, and as much as people hate on leo placements i feel like they have such great magnetism and charisma that not a lot of other signs may have. Like scorpio risings, leo risings walk into a room and because their energy isn’t off putting anyone and everyone gravitates to leo risings (my mom is a leo rising and anywhere and everywhere so many people come up to strike a conversation with her lol) and that makes a lottttttt of people insecure. but although leos portray and exude confidence, they really do think of themselves as inferior sometimes (which can make them very prideful and “narcissistic” as others would say because both of those come out of insecurity).

5. Taurus venus women voices are sooo fucking powerful and soft like i’m so jealous (ariana grande, lana del ray, victoria monet, chris brown🤢, demi lovato) like they sing SOOO well i rarely meet a taurus venus that can’t sing. sound like goddesses real bad (taurus mercury’s to an certain extent have the same energy).

6. Virgos, you know you don’t have to overextend yourselfs to everyone🥺 BABY GIVE URSELF that energy you give others. On the topic of virgos, why are virgo moons so hypocritical?😭

7. Saturn in the 1st house people i feel so bad for y’all. Y’all never really let yallsevles loose and that’s a placement that can indicate suffering from depression 🥺

8. Aquarius’s are so fucking smart like everyone aquarius i know graduated a year early due to GREAT GRADES and a great sat/act. I think one that I knew went to an elite school and got a full ride likeee y’all are so fucking smart like I GOTTA SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACKK.

9. i’ve never met any person with venus mars aspects (even in harsh ones) that was not fine 😋

10. if you want a sugar daddy/sugar baby, find someone with planets in your 2nd house (benefic planets such as venus, sun, mercury, jupiter) and even 8th house hehe i shared 2nd house synastry with someone and they used to send me money like every week or so

11. 8th house synastry with mars is better than 5th house synastry (unless the two are paired together 😏) i had better experiences with 8th house mars synastry than 5th house synastry (5th house is super fun but sometimes it has no substance) but for anyone who is crushing on someone who has planets in ur 12th house, BE CAUTIOUS!

That’s it is! Thank you for reading and have a good day!!

[sabertoothwalrus]

favorite element? i like nickel :]

BISMUTHHHHHHHHH

The chemical symbol is Bi and you can’t beat that

It looks like this

3. I have a really strong memory of being a kid, maybe 8 years old? in the gift shop of a science museum. At the counter, they had a little cardboard box full of little chunks of bismuth and I was MESMERIZED. I was like :O wow! It’s amazing that someone could take the time to hand carve all these little details!! And the lady working the counter said “actually, they grow like that!” and the fact that they weren’t manmade blew my tiny mind 🤯🤯🤯🤯

also sidenote I feel like you knew somehow I’m very allergic to nickel. I am suspicious and vindictive of you. Have a good day though.

[yandere-wishes]

Vaguely based on an idea I had while making this edit. Plus I like to romantics my Aquaphobia.

Thinking of how different Neuvillet could have been, how paradoxical. He's basically a wild thing, tamed for the sake of granting mercy. Ocean-born dragon masquerading as a human...

🫧 Yandere Neuvillette (Regular)  

There's bubbles in your throat when he kisses you. Fresh salt from the sea and the prick of puka shells on your tongue.

You're drowning again. Just like last time. And the time before that.

Each kiss pulls you deeper into his watery depths.

He rests his forehead against yours, blue eyes too deep to stare into. You feel lost at sea when he looks at you. Too much love and misplaced adoration. It's like he's trying to swallow you whole.

When his blue lips part to utter your name in reverence you hear waterfalls singing your name. Siren songs begging you to follow, to impale your heart upon their love. Neuvillette leads you to the dance floor, dancing in tune with shark eye spirals.

He floats, treading air.

He's made to terrorize on both land and sea.

Deadly thing playing lovers with the wretched girl he stole.

You trace the tip of his gloved fingers expecting claws and scales and only finding smooth skin and delighted chuckles.

The band stops.

You don't recall when they started.

Neuvillette lowers his lips, the permanent blue painting your lips in his shade. Your lungs scream, overflowing.

So this is how sirens kill.

By weaving romance with water and pushing it down their lover's throat.

The water gives way, you choke with each deep breath. Coughing and gulping and trying to live. Neuvillette smiles bemused by your toil.

As the crowd claps for their Iudex and his lady...

🫧Yandere Dragon Neuvillette (feral)

There's bubbles in your throat when he kisses you. Sharp jagged teeth feeding into delicate lapis lips. Neuvillette's iridescent tail tightens around your hips, pulling you closer until you drown in his aqueous body.

The distinction between breathing and suffocating is subtle when you're trapped between two voids. Hungry hydrous dragon and the peril of Fontain's endless waters.

They say the hydro dragon haunts the seas.

Vindictive, ravenous.

Your ancestors used to feed it brides in hopes of complacency.

Neuvillette pushes you deeper, you feel the raptures in your ears, see the blood lining the translucent waters. His claws dig deeper into your back, bemused at the fortitude of bone. running talons between the pearls of your spine, playing with the space between each bone.

His eyes glow a hungry blue. You wonder if his kiss is a promise or a threat. If he intends to eat you whole and lick your bones with the gentlest of love. Or if he wants to savor each bite, enjoy mouthfuls of flesh and bone and marrow every day until there is nothing left of you.

The hydro dragon trails his forked tongue across your teeth, your throat, the uneven roof of your mouth. Utterly, utterly in love.

[raz-b-rose]

Guys please remember, they are still people too. Don't group them into the "evil box" because they are pro abortion. Speak truth in love but with conviction.

You aren't going to convince them to change their mind if you're name calling or treating them as "other".

It's easy to forget the person on the other side of the screen.

Awesome post by @pro.life.mama on Instagram that shows that the pro-choice ideology is rooted in dehumanization.

[maybanksbabe]

𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐋 | 𝐑. 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you'd assumed for the last 6 months that he'd lived nextdoor that your neighbour was just a very popular man with no end of female admirers spending the night at his place. Until a late night mark of desperation leads you to finding a very familiar face on your favoured XXX site...

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): pornstar!Rafe Cameron, language, mentions of and descriptions of sex and sexual content, *gasp* and they were neighbours!, Descriptions of masturbation (m + f), watching porn, oral (f) there's a lot going on lmao, if I missed anything lmk!

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: sex; cheat codes - church; chase atlantic - go fuck yourself; two feet

𝟷𝟾+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 - 𝙸 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺

It started on a weekend, about three weeks after Rafe Cameron had moved in next door in your apartment complex. The walls were just torturously thin enough that any time he had a... Lady friend over, you could hear every obnoxious, high-pitched moan he could get out of her. Whoever she was every other night. Sometimes in the morning, you'd see various sorry states leaving his apartment; smudged makeup, shoes in hands and a slight wobble in their step.

He seemed nice enough when you bumped into each other at the mail collection or laundry room. A stunning smile and a God-given body. With it being late July he found any excuse to walk around shirtless. Not that you really minded. There was no indication of what he did for work; you'd never seen him in any uniform or office attire and there was nothing else that pointed to any kind of obvious profession, keeping you guessing.

Then, on the hottest summer night so far, you found yourself unable to sleep, tossing and turning beneath tangled sheets that did nothing but make you more uncomfortable. And then you noticed the faint knocking next door and distinctly female moans.

Did he ever fucking stop?!

You could hear a backing of male moans too, but nothing more than faint grunts and moans that were almost drowned out by whichever woman he was pressing into the mattress. And yet, instead of being faced with disgust, there was a spark of something else. Jealousy? Perhaps. It made your stomach twist and between your thighs began to ache.

Instead of being vindictive and giving the wall above your head a few sharp pounds with your fist, you decided to be courteous. After all, you have no other reason not to get along with him. Disgruntled, you kicked your sheets off and grabbed your keys before moving out of your apartment to the corridor, taking five steps to the right and knocking on Rafe's door.

The moaning stopped and seconds later the door opened, revealing, much to your bewilderment, Rafe in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. His chest, neck, cheeks and ears were flush with a rosy burnish and a delicate gold chain rested against his collarbones.

"Hi -"

"Is this about the noise?" He was slightly breathless as he tried to fill the space between the half-open door and the door frame.

"Yeah, sorry I'm just a really light sleeper and I've got a busy day tomorrow -"

"Don't worry about it, we're almost wrapped up here. Just give us ten more minutes and I promise you won't hear from us again tonight," he replied with a coy smile. Something about his demeanour made you melt a little inside. His eyes are heavy as they travel up and down your body, taking in your choice of sleepwear and your sleep-deprived state.

"Tom and Jerry, huh?" At a glance, you saw that he was referring to your pyjamas. Heat crawled up your neck and cheeks.

"Don't be an ass. Just - please keep the noise down, yeah?" He held a hand up in surrender, a boyish grin on his lips.

"Alright, alright. Promise. Enjoy the rest of your night, sweetheart."

Not as much as you will, it seems.

At that, you retreated to the stuffy air of your apartment, soon after the lurid sounds continued, accompanied by the percussion of the headboard against the wall. But true to his word, ten minutes later it fell silent and the distant sound of a door shutting set your mind at ease.

A week later, if that, a barrage of more late nights listening to Rafe's conquests drew you to a final, desperate measure. Opening an incognito window on your phone's browser you went straight to your favourite porn site. If he could have fun at all hours, so help you God you could too. The noise from next door made you wonder what they were doing; doggy, reverse cowgirl, some kind of bondage perhaps? He certainly seemed like the type.

Surfing the categories for a few minutes gave you a spark of inspiration to go looking for a specific type of video. And the first account to come up in the results had you intrigued from the jump. You selected the most recent video, put your headphones in and pushed your free hand into your sleep shorts. Though as your fingers began to dip and delve between your folds and around your clit, a familiar voice in your ear made you stop.

"- fuck yeah, so fuckin' tight -" Wide-eyed you turned your attention to your phone screen. You knew that voice. You'd spoken to that voice in the laundry room on multiple occasions. And as your eyes adjusted to the brightness of your screen in the dark you saw it. That chain. Those abs. That jawline.

"Oh, my god..." Solo fun forgot about, you sat up and began scouring the page. There were dozens of videos. Some by himself, some with co-stars (both female and male), and others with more than one co-star. Regardless of the content of the videos you selected and skipped through, he looked good. No, he looked hot.

The video you were currently on, you couldn't bare to skip through or speed up, too transfixed on what Rafe was doing. Lay on a pristinely made bed, beneath a beautiful brunette woman who was currently sat on his face. Then it all made sense. The constant noise, the late nights and the never-ending line of people leaving his apartment. And why you could never figure out what he did for a living.

Your neighbour was a pornstar.

Your insanely hot, surprisingly nice neighbour was a very popular pornstar based on the subscriber count under his profile name.

But now felt compelled to watch more. To see more and get to know him. It was wrong but you didn't have many other options given how he normally reduced to you a blushing mess anyway. So up you stayed for another few hours, scrolling through the countless videos that caught your interest.

Your favourite one so far had been a video from a month or two ago, Rafe was on the sofa, the camera set up on the coffee table and his legs spread just wide enough in the grey sweats that you could see most of him before he'd even stripped down. He used a vibrating cockring to get himself off. The string of delightfully sinful noises came from him as he fucked his hand and used the ring on the most intense pattern had you clenching your thighs and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Another week rolled on and you delved deeper into Rafe's content, using it selfishly to get off to your burning needs when every morning you'd exchange a polite smile and greeting when you both happened to be collecting your mail at the same time. Perhaps you were doing it on purpose. Or he was. You hadn't been particularly reserved in your late-night self-indulgence and there's more than a chance that he's heard you on more than one occasion.

How you found yourself standing in front of his door on a Thursday evening you're not sure, but you had to say something. It had been quiet for a couple of days next door. So you knocked and waited patiently. Moments later the door swung open. Rafe greeted you with his signature coy smirk, a bowl of cereal balanced in one ring-clad hand, and the other resting on the door.

"Hey, what brings you here?"

"I - I need to talk to you..." you forced out whilst wringing your fingers together.

"Oh? Sure, come in." Rafe stepped aside and propped the door open with his foot to let you in. You found it incredibly difficult not to ogle him as you stepped around him, sweatpants slung low on his hips and a shirt nowhere to be seen. He'd definitely been soaking up the Summer sun too, now more tan than when he first moved in and there was a faint spray of freckles across his back and shoulders, obviously brought out by the extra sunshine.

"What's the problem?" He leaned up against the nearest counter as you both came to a stop in the kitchen.

"No... No problem. I don't think. Look, Rafe, you seem like a really nice guy -"

"Oh, God I don't like where this is going -"

"No! No, it's not bad but... I found you." Rafe set the now empty bowl into the sink and turned back to face you.

"Found me?"

"Don't make me say it," you pleaded, face already hot with embarrassment. That cocky demeanour started to take effect and with the way he looked, standing there half naked so casually had you struggling to find the words.

"Online. Okay? I happened upon your online profile and -" His laughter cut you off and the panic and embarrassment subsided momentarily.

"Don't be embarrassed, everyone watches porn," he stated with a shrug and stepped towards you, caging you in against the counter. It took all your willpower not to drop to your knees then and there.

"I just - just didn't want things to be awkward. Thought you might want to know... We're still just neighbours, okay?"

"Sure. Y'know I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out..." Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in. The scent of him was dizzying and you did the unthinkable. You kissed him. It transpired into a series of messy kisses, and obscene actions with tongues and teeth pressing and clashing.

A surprised gasp against Rafe's sinfully pink lips escaped you as he hoisted you onto the counter, large, hot hands on your waist, keeping you flush with him. Kissing Rafe was something you couldn't explain, it was a hungry, demanding exchange with languid tongues rendering you breathless.

"M' a big fan of your work," you confessed with a hot sigh against his parted lips, trying your hardest not to moan when he made contact with the column of your throat and his one hand made his way between your parted thighs.

"Yeah?" You made a noise of agreement but yelped when he tugged your soft cotton shorts down your legs, exposing your ass and the backs of your thighs to the cool surface beneath you.

"Don't - don't feel like you have to -" you panted, cut off by an unintentional moan as his fingers pressed against your underwear, adding a delicious kind of pressure against your aching clit. Your hand found his wrist, holding him there for a moment whilst his fingers teased you relentlessly.

"And what if I want to? Like I haven't spent the past couple of weeks listening to you play with yourself late at night when you think no one can hear you." His remark had you clenching around nothing,

"I -"

"You think I couldn't hear you? Watching my videos and moaning for me?" He kissed a line down your neck and bunched your t-shirt up so he could remove your panties, dropping them to one side. In your hazy state, you couldn't stop him from kneeling down in front of your bare cunt before he leaned in, making contact with an open mouth against your now-exposed clit.

"Fuck, Rafe -" you whimpered with a shaky breath as he used his mouth to get you off, suctioning around your clit with expert skill, his tongue adding just enough pressure and friction to have you dizzy already.

"Tell me all about it, sweets." You couldn't be sure if he was good at this because it was part of his job or if he was just that good, but in a matter of minutes, you were reduced to a whining, squirming mess on his kitchen counter, unable to form a coherent sentence. The pressure of a finger being added to your aching, wet cunt had you moaning even louder.

"Gonna cum for me? Hm? Wanna make a mess on my face?" All you could do in reply was moan. Unashamed and unhindered by the fact that any of the surrounding units might be able to hear you and that you were currently on your neighbour's kitchen counter being eaten out within an inch of your life by the aforementioned neighbour.

Practically grinding on his face, everything came to a dizzying peak. Eyes screwed shut, back arched off of the counter and your thighs trembling from their position over his shoulders, you came with a loud cry - a plea almost for the pleasure to last -

"That was hot," Rafe commented with a drawl as he eventually managed to free himself from between your previously tensed thighs. He made a point to stand up and offer the two fingers that had just been inside you. Some deep part of your subconscious didn't even hesitate to accept them in your mouth to clean them off.

"Good girl," he cooed with a wolfish grin.

-/-/-

@veescorneroftheworld @drewphyy @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @outerbankies

Just tagging a few who might be interested! Let me know if you want to be removed 🧡

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

[ru8yx]

Rezef Hill x Cayena’s lady-in-waiting reader 😼

OOO~ 😉 HES SO XJHXHXHDHD (IM NOT DOWN BAD ISTG)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: obsessive rezef, betrayal, no happy for u🙏, badly written, manipulation

𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅’𝐒 golden blond hair, almost identical to his sister's, contrasted against his penetrating blue eyes, their dark depths holding a captivating allure. His hair was short and wavy, with several thin strands rebelliously sticking out, giving him a boyish charm that only added to his appeal.

His angelic allure was undeniable. His striking features, coupled with an innate awareness of his own attractiveness, made him a magnet for noble ladies, who found themselves drawn to his handsome visage. Rezef was conscious of this effect he had on them, and he exploited it to his advantage, skillfully manipulating those who fell for his appearance.

Rezef's upbringing was marked by a profound deprivation of love and affection, leading him down a path of moral degradation. Though he possessed an angelic exterior and a striking handsome face, his heart harbored a dark and twisted soul.

Contrasting with his charming appearance, Rezef's cruel disposition knew no bounds. He was a man consumed by possessiveness and an insatiable thirst for power, a result of his father's relentless warnings that everything he held dear could be snatched away in an instant if he didn't possess authority and control. As a result, he grew into an irritable and vindictive individual, quick to anger when someone attempted.

Then, his gaze fell upon a lady in waiting who served his dear sister, not the woman herself, but the position she held. This lady was the sole daughter of a high-ranking noble, the heir to her family's fortune and reputation.

A sinister idea formed in his twisted mind, and a sly smile played on his lips. He could make her his toy, a puppet for his own entertainment, to be played with at his whim. After all, who could deny the prince's desires?

Thus, his grand performance began. Whenever he caught a glimpse of her, he assumed the role of the charming prince, concerned with the welfare of his subjects. His excuse for showering her with gowns was that he desired the happiness of his people. He would conveniently appear whenever she faced adversity, playing the part of her prince charming.

However, despite his charming demeanor, his true nature remained masked to others. He found himself unable to win her heart, for she saw through his cunning facade and recognized the manipulative individual that lurked beneath.

In their game of pretense, she continued to praise him, viewing him as a charming and good-hearted prince. Perhaps she felt a sense of pity for him, knowing the abuse he suffered in his upbringing. But despite this pity, she did not love him.

For how could such a vile monster ever stir any affection within her heart? He had shattered innocent lives and harmed those who mattered dearly to her, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Months had elapsed since their initial encounter, and the former lady-in-waiting had progressed into the privileged position of being Prince Rezef’s treasured beloved. Lavished with golden jewelry and an array of gowns in every shade, she basked in the adoration and praises of the people, all because she had the ability to tame him.

Prince Rezef himself had started to seek out her warm touch, finding solace in her eyes that glimmered even in the dark, and her voice that brought a soothing melody to his ears. However, it was not love that drove him to her. In his twisted perception, she was like a doll, a possession that he had no intention of discarding.

She was the only person who looked at him with a gentleness he had rarely experienced; a doll he cherished and treasured, despite his own inability to love her.

Little did Prince Rezef know of the dark secret his beloved harbored within her heart. She had made a secret deal with his own sister, swearing that she would manipulate and control him, transforming him into her puppet.

Once this plan was successfully executed, she would ascend to the throne of the emperor, while she would be rewarded with a prominent and comfortable position, one where she could live in secrecy with her actual lover.

❛ such an deal I cannot refuse, I, [name] the sole heir of the [xxxxxx] family, accept you, Cayena Hill, as our future emperor ❜

❛ Lady [name], I thank you for the support, and as promised, you and Lord [xxx] shall be granded the positions of Duke and Duchess ❜

She artfully deceived him, making him believe that he was her first love, her first in everything. She convinced him that she regarded him as an angel and pledged her unwavering loyalty by his side, promising to aid him in becoming an emperor, and earn the adoration and support of the entire empire.

And yet the day never came

❛ Lady [name] or now Duchess [name] and her highness, Cayena hill were the only ones that held his heart, and the only ones who broke it, working together to take what is rightfully Princess’es Cayena’s. And will forever be rememberd as the Marionettes of broken strings❜ she read out loud, her voice a humming melody as the words danced off her tongue, all while rezef who promised to study with her simply raised an eyebrow

❛ how strange, they share many similar traits as you and sister, the only difference is that you would never betray me like that ❜

❛ no.. I suppose ..I would not... ❜

[devondeal]

Agatha and Rio zodiac signs aka hear me out about Rio’s sign essay

So Agatha is clearly a water sign, most likely Scorpio. She is extremely smart, vindictive, and internalizes like no other.

She also cares so deeply that it probably even scares her sometimes. A big Scorpio thing is being afraid of being vulnerable because they know deeply they feel. Probably why she reacted so intensely toward Rio about Nicky. In her mind, she had opened herself to love and that same love took away her baby. Plus she is so a scorpion and is very much like the scorpion and the swan with her little Road deception.

I know Rio being Lady Death technically has no birthday but this is for FUN so aint no one be a wet blanket here please.

This is going to surprise people and it is definitely out of my bias of being this sign but I believe Rio is a Libra.

HEAR ME OUT

Libra’s symbol is a scale. It is the only zodiac sign that is not represented by a living thing. Rio is above all living things and like Libra the scale, is all about balance. It is also an air sign which again given her mysterious and spiritual nature makes sense.

She is bothered by things like ghosts and Billy reincarnating into a dead body because it opposes the natural balance.

Now onto personality stuff, Libra’s are known for being aloof but charismatic. Very much how Rio presents herself. She is also quite gentle and soft in her own special way and knows how to make the people she loves feel cared for (the flowers for Agarha, defending her against her mother and the coven turning against her, being sweet with Nicky when it was his time holding his hand).

However the aloofness and need for balance can can work against her relationships like having to take Nicky, telling Agatha Billy isnt her son because it was the right thing even though it meant not getting to be with her love.

Libra is also a sign that is known for romance and needs partnership to be balanced within themselves. Rio is extremely romantic with the gift giving and physical touch love languages (she touches Agatha A LOT).

And she is one needy little Death Lady. Her desperate need to be with Agatha again is very obvious and she doesnt even try to hide it. So much so, she went against her usual balance and let Agatha have time with Nicky. She is so deeply in love with Agatha and do anything for her but also because she loves Nicky she had to take him when she did as he was sickly and suffering.

Perhaps she could have let him live so Agatha wouldn’t hate her but because she is selfless and couldn’t let him suffer she did the right thing (plus he clearly wanted to go and was tired of being sick).

The Rio we see in the current time having been apart from Agatha for centuries and knowing she is hated by the one she loves for something she didn’t have a choice doing has clearly changed her. Like a typical Libra she is completely unbalanced without her wife, her partner. And all her more negative Libra qualities come out.

Her aloofness, tendency for passive aggressiveness, the “weird girl” vibes in the group despite being her usual social Libra self and having no problem interacting with the coven all while knowing they’re doomed. Isolated from yet together with them. Like the Ballad says, “together and alone.”

And finally, Rio’s behavior when attacking Agatha in both the beginning and the end is the ultimate show of a Libra at the end of her rope. Rio is not one to lose control especially how she did in the final fight. She is Lady Death after all. But this comes after CENTURIES of being ignored, being demonized undeservedly. And what does a Libra hate more than anything? Injustice and this one is deeply personal. She did what was best for their son and got punished for it.

Yet she never stopped loving Agatha. She defended her against her mother, the coven, tried her best to reconcile with her and explain herself only to be told Agatha never wants to see her face again.

So she attacks explosively, theatrically, like never before. And yet she STILL loves Agatha and cries out her desperation of wanting to be loved back. “Why don’t you want me?” Even after Agatha called her evil. Still a Libra, needing to have her person, and forgiving when Agatha kisses her because that’s all she’s ever wanted.

Then after losing the love of her eternal life, she shuts down, returning to her skull form. Her deepest scar having been ripped open. A traumatized Libra will retreat into their aloof tendencies.

And all this long ass essay is my extremely biased reasoning for Rio being a Libra. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[lipglossanon]

Gloom

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!

not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not

title from Gloom by Djo

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor. 

You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest. 

You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—

“You need another drink?”

The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter. 

“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim. 

“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.

“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.

“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”

“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”

You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”

His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”

Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks. 

Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger. 

“Miss me?” 

You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom. 

“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”

Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him. 

“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”

You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick. 

“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump. 

“And?”

He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”

He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him. 

“What did you use?”

“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”

Your eyes narrow and he laughs. 

“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”

He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement. 

“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”

“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”

“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”

“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him. 

“There’s something wrong with me.”

You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown. 

“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”

His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”

Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully. 

“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”

“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”

Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.

“Do you want help?”

He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth. 

“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

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