#the last time i saw him was at his wife's funeral and i didn't even know i didn't have much time left with him

[greatbigstorm]

/ /

[afro-hispwriter]

A Good Wife Prequel

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

(Daemon and Laenas daughter, no aegon x reader in this)

Prequel to “A Good Wife” but can be read as a standalone 

Warnings- targcest(cousin), set during episode 8, oral(f receiving), p in v sex, virginity loss, sexual tension, choking, smut part inspired by Rhaenyra losing her virginity to Criston sorta (you'll see), Aegon's advances, jealous!Aemond,

Summary- you hadn't seen your cousin Aemond in 2 years, only briefly meeting at your mother funeral and another at a name day celebration, but after being called to KingsLanding, attractions come to light

Switches between 3rd and 2nd person(i tried to be grrm at the end lol) 

Wc- 6k

Thank you @fan-goddess and @jasminecosmic99 for the help!

-

Your mother is dead. You had to watch her struggle to give birth to your newest siblings then painfully walk to her dragon, Vhagar. Your  father had rushed out after her, you tried to follow after but he didn't let you. So you went up onto the walkway which looks out over the beaches of Pentos. Yet what you saw was utter heart wrenching, as you watched Vhagar open her mouth wide and set your mother and baby brother ablaze. 

Daemon had fallen to his knees on the beach and couldn't move as he continued to merely stare at his wife’s body. He wasn't sure how long it had been before he felt a small hand on his shoulder. 

-

The funeral came quickly. The last time you were in Driftmark was when you were born, but even then Laena and Daemon managed to take off to Pentos not soon after. 

There were so many new faces, but not of your grandparents. They held the three of you tightly as your Uncle Vaemond Velaryon led the funeral, and as her casket fell into the sea the realization settled in that you would never see your mother again. Never feel that warm touch. Never hear her soothing voice again. 

You sat on the beach with your legs crossed as you dug into the ground with a stick. Your tears had long dried up and you were down to just sniffles. 

"Y/n?" A small voice came behind you and you turned around. It was a young boy, around your age maybe. Targaryen as well. 

"How do you know my name?" 

"My mother told me. I'm Prince Aemond Targaryen." 

"Oh, the king's son." You stood up and dusted your black dress, followed by a small curtsy. Aemond just frowned and shifted on his heels awkwardly.

"You don't have to do that." He says and you press your lips together. An awkward silence fell on the both of you. "Why are you down here alone my lady?" 

"I-I." Your eyes started to well up with tears and you wiped the first layer away but suddenly they were falling fast. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I should take you back." Aemond offered you his hand and you wiped your eyes before wiping  them on your dress and taking his hand. Letting him lead you back into the castle. 

-

From above Alicent and Otto stood, Alicent with a glower and Otto with amusement painted on his face as they watched the two children below hold hands and walk up the steps together.

"It isn't a terrible match, it could help us secure Daemon. He loves his daughters no doubt about that." Otto states. 

"There is no securing Daemon Targaryen.” Alicent said, her glare still prominent. “We need Aemond available for future use if it comes down to it."  With that, the queen walked away just as the two children came up the steps with Aemond leading his cousin through the crowd and dropping her off at her designated chamber where she would remain through the night. All the way through the chaos that would come. However, until Daemon came in the morning and announced they were moving to Dragonstone with Rhaenerya and her sons. 

-

Dorne was nothing but beautiful the 2 years you resided there. Only now returning when the conflict for the next heir of Driftmark was being called into question. You didn't HAVE to be there, but it was for "moral support." 

Vermithor had you in King's Landing in just 3 days. You were sad to leave Dorne. You’d learned and experienced so much that it hurt to leave but you couldn't deny how much you missed your father and sisters. 

You ended up landing just after they did. There's been a slight chill covering Kinglanding and your new wardrobe from Dorne did not help you one bit to help you accommodate it, but the small shawl that simply buckled softly around your neck sufficed. 

You hadn't been there long enough to know exactly where you were going. As not many people knew you were even attending, you didn't even have an escort, but you eventually made it inside the Keep. So much has changed. But it was more like the Hightowers had changed. Everything Targaryen or more like nothing that wasn't Seven approved was taken down and replaced with that damned seven pointed star.

"It’s a shame really." A deep voice spoke behind you and you turned around just to look up at your dear cousin.

"Prince Aemond." You say with a smile which he returns. 

"Lady Y/n, was Dorne everything you hoped it to be?" You didn't miss the way you cousin's lilac eye took you in. All of you. No doubt you had grown since the last time you saw each other at Aegon's name day celebration. 

"It was quite the experience, I learned a lot."

Your hair was longer, your eyes were deeper, and don't get him started on your dress. It was so different from the modest one he last saw you in Aegon's name day , asThis one was true Dornish style. The material was soft silk and there was a mesh addition to leave much more to the imagination. His mother would have a heart attack at the dip of the dress at your chest. 

He had grown too though. Taller. Broader. A dark aura shined around him and it drew you in. He made your chest tighten. 

"Are you not cold?" He asks you with a smile. 

"Not really, I’m getting quite warm actually." You say as you undo the buckle of the shawl and let it fall so it rests on your arms. You turned around suddenly and you could hear Aemonds breath hitch. 

The dress was backless. Aemonds eye traced along your skin before settling on the material that sat bunched up just above your ass. The smallest tug could reveal so much. If Alicent wouldn't have a heart attack, Aemond certainly would. 

"Like what you see cousin?" 

Oh you little- 

You let out a giggle and Aemonds looked down while his face turned red. You strode up close to him and turned your head slightly to catch his eye. 

"Don't be ashamed my prince, we're Targaryens. it’s in our blood." He looked up this time but as soon as he did he quickly looked away again from you making you smirk. "Prince Aemond?"

"Yes, Lady Y/n?"

"The rest of our family is here already but I'm having trouble finding them. Could you help me?" Aemond did not know what game you were playing at, but he was still willing to be a pawn for you at any time.  He offered you his arm and you gladly took it.

-

It didn’t take long for you to find your family, or rather, they saw you. They were all huddled together speaking lowly, but Luke saw you first and his face broke into a wide smile. You broke away from Aemond and Luke had you in a tight hug instantly.

“I miss you.” He said as he laid his head on your chest while you smiled. Aemond took a step back as the rest of your family from Dragonstone and Driftmark approached. Daemon Targaryen rolled his shoulders back at the sight of his grown nephew The boy now towered over him. The One-Eyed had matured, and any man or woman could see he had his sight set on Prince Daemon and Lady Laena’s firstborn. 

“Thank you, for aiding my daughter.” Daemon says as he kisses the side of your head in a possessive motion. “I'm sure your mother is wondering where you are.” There was a tension built in the atmosphere just between the two men, and you took the liberty of an attempt to dissolve it. 

“Thank you, for helping me, Prince Aemond.” You say and separate from Daemon to go up on your toes to kiss Aemond’s cheek. 

“It was no trouble my lady.” He nods before turning away. You bite your lower lip as you watch him leave, the act going unnoticed by Daemon.

“What were you doing with that Hightower cunt?” You rolled your eyes and hugged Rhaena tightly. 

“He was only helping me find my way to all of you, nothing more.” 

-

The throne room was packed, so many overlapping voices. Rhaena and Luke had wanted to know everything about Dorne that you hadn’t already  incorporated in the letters sent, while Jace simply listened in. 

Daemon however noticed the eyes of the many lords who looked over at you and whispered to each other. No doubt he would be approached once this was over by lords either presenting their sons or themselves for your hand. 

The moment Otto started talking though you made sure to tune the man quickly out. 

Your cousins on the other side of the room seemed to be doing the same as it appeared Nobody truly wanted to be there. 

Aemond on the other hand loved it deep down. He saw you less than an hour ago and you’re all he thinks about now. You shined brighter than anybody in the room, even in the gloomy light shining through the windows. 

His look did not go unnoticed by you and you couldn’t help but think howSomeone has to show your one-eyed cousin how to be subtle. But to tease the man a bit you brought your hands up as if you were brushing your shoulder randomly, your thumb “accidentally” getting caught on the material around your breasts and brought it down slightly, Revealing the swell of the sides of your breasts. His breath hitched and he looked away. That action did not go unnoticed by your eldest cousin Aegon though had noticed as well and he licked his lips. 

The arrival of the king brought you back. Your father going to help the old sick man who dropped his crown and could barely stand. 

It wasn’t long before once again, Lucerys’ claim was established. Again. Your great uncle Vaemond had a say in it, which resulted in part of the man's head chopped off. 

-

You were escorted out after that. Brought to your chambers where you learned the king asked for a family dinner. It was the perfect moment for you to get closer to Aemond, so You made sure to tell one of the servant girls to inform the others who were preparing for the dinner to put a chair next to Aemonds. 

The servants scrubbed you down and cleaned you everywhere, trimmed where anything needed trimming or cut completely. 

The dress you wore was more modest, but still with your new found Dornish style. 

As you finished with your accessories, someone knocked gently at your door.

“Come in.” You called and turned around in your chair to see the door open. A man opened the door, helmet in hand and head low. “Eoywn!” You stood up and ran to your friend and wrapped your arms around the man. 

Eoywn was a stable boy on Dragonstone andYour first friend after the move. The two of you would watch the knights train which is what convinced him to join. A little help from you, and he was being trained. Eoywn was always a handsome boy. Brown hair, brown eyes, and his warm olive skin shined always.

“Ser Eoywn now I suppose.” You chuckle and hold the man at arms length. He certainly grew. “I didn’t know you'd be here.”

“I was being briefed and introduced to King's Landing, my apologies My Lady.” You cocked your head to the side. 

“Oh please don’t start with the Lady.” You groaned as he chuckled.

“Your father sent me here to escort you to dinner, so you don’t get lost again. in his words.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Lead the way.”

-

Aemond stood talking with Aegon when you walked in with Ser Eoywn behind you. He instantly stopped talking to his brother and locked eyes with you while Aegon turned to you and instantly smiled. 

“My beautiful cousin.” He says and holds his arms out to pull you into a hug. You were tense, but you still greeted the man. He pulled away and let his hands drag along your waist. “You’ve grown.” 

“Everyones been saying that.” 

“Because it's true.” He squeezed your hips. “So very true.” 

“Leave her alone, Aegon.” Aemond says behind him and Aegon rolls his eyes.

“Simple innocent fun brother. You do know what fun is right?” Before Aemond could respond, everyone fell silent as King Viserys was carried in. Everyone then took their places, you walked round the table while Aemond sat and Eowyn pulled out your chair right next to the prince and pushed you into the table once you settled in it. 

Daemon was leaning back in his chair staring directly at you.

Aemonds demeanor changed, as he clasped his hands together in his lap and straightened his back. You sat to his right, allowing him to look at you out of the corner of his eye . Aemond was glad you chose something a bit more modest, but no less beautiful. If you had shown up to dinner in the same dress from earlier, Aemond would no doubt be having another date with his hand after the dinner was over.  

“He should’ve stayed in bed.” You mumbled looking at the king. Aemonds chest jumped slightly as if trying to stop a laugh. “Me and you could have had our own dinner, just the two of us.” You grabbed a napkin and flattened it across your lap. 

“We still can.” He says lowly. “Just leave now. Nobody will notice.”

“Hmm and do what?” You smirked at him. “Eat or-.” You were cut off by Viserys standing. He proceeded to go on about the family and how divided everyone was and how that shouldn’t be. When the man took off the golden mask revealing how bad the illness truly was. You swallowed deeply as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

It didn’t take long before the king finished and Rhaenerya and Alicent followed with their own toasts. You’re not sure what Aegon had said but Jace’s reaction was enough. Everyone looked at him in confusion and suddenly Aemond stood up tall, chair creaking as he did so. You kept looking between the two, tension was clearly high between them and everyone waited for the other to act. 

Aemond instantly going to his brother's defense made the fire already burning inside of you burn hotter. 

Jace punched Aegon's arm softy and lifted his cup of wine, saying toast to his two uncles. Once it was done Aemond was the one still standing, glaring at Jace. 

“Aemond.” You whispered and he looked down and licked his lips before sitting back down. Helaena stood up next with a smile and wine in hand. 

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena.” 

“Don’t let them get to you.” You whispered to Aemond. “They’re only boys.” Aemond didn’t respond, just drew his shoulders back. You rolled your eyes and grabbed his pale hand and squeezed it. You smiled at him and he showed no emotion but a flicker of his eye to your lips. You leaned forward and he leaned back, cheeks dusting pink making you giggle. 

Music started and food was brought out. Everyone dug in passing around plates of potatoes, peas, and salads. You’ve let Aemonds hand go to start filling your plate full of food.

“How does it look compared to Dornish cuisine?” Aemond asks and you shrug. 

“There is more color in Dorne.” You took a bite. “And more flavor, but I missed this food nonetheless.” 

“Y/n.” Otto bumps into the conversation. “Was Dorne everything they say, I rarely go.” 

“It was fun, I learned a lot. They express themselves a lot, it makes me admire them.” 

“Any suitors?” Aemond asks and you raise an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, cousin.”

“I would actually.” 

“And why is that?” There was a sly look on your face and Aemond tensed his jaw.

“Aemond?” Alicent caught her son's attention and shook her head.

“My apologies my lady, I did not mean to intrude.”

“No harm.” You say taking another bite and shifted your knees to push into his. “What of you? Any ladies lining up.” 

“None.” He says, you would say it was a tone of disappointment but he didn’t let it show.

“Well they are fools.” He let out a hum.

“Are you a fool, my lady?” He asks.

“I won't be the fool if you anger me, my prince.” 

“Then I should see that I don’t.” He raised his cup to you and brought it to his lips, followed by you copying his actions. The king's health seemed to drop even further and the man was carried out. 

A steaming pig was brought out and placed in front of the two of you. You licked your lips and instantly grabbed a knife and fork to start cutting your own pieces. You missed the way Luke laughed at Aemond, it wasn't until the man stood up, slamming his fists on the table and grabbed his cup. 

“Final tribute.” He says and everyone stops. “To the three strong boys.” You set your utensils down and stared up at him. 

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace says and the two started walking towards each other. 

“Why? Do you not think of yourself strong?” Jace swung hard at Aemond but didn’t make the man stumble. All while Aegon slammed Luke onto the table as your sisters tried to jump into the fight. Aemond shoved Jace to the ground and turned around, flashing you a big smile and you shook your head in disappointment. 

“Your brother certainly is strong, my lady.” He whispered in your ear as he set his cup down. You rolled your eyes and simply drank more wine. 

Jace scrambled to his feet and tried to charge again, Aemond readying himself to humiliate the boy again. But Daemon stopped it before anything happened. This time you did stand up to try and intervene but it was Ser Eowyn who stopped you.

“My lady.” He says while shaking his head. Your shoulders slumped and you took a step back. Aemond and Daemon stared each other down before Aemond backed off, looking straight ahead and walking out the room. 

Dinner was clearly over. You dismissed yourself and walked quickly to try and catch up with Aemond with Eowyn in tow. Only for him to be stopped by Daemon.

“Make sure my daughter goes straight to her chamber’s. By force if needed.” He says, emphasizing on the “her”. Eowyn nodded and took off after you. 

-

“My lady.” He calls after you as you’re already down the hall. “Y/n stop!” You stopped in your tracks and whipped around.

“Yes?” 

“Your father has given me strict orders on making sure you go straight to your chambers.” 

“Orders.” You rolled your eyes. “He can suck my cock.” You turned around again and started walking when Eowyns gloved hand encased your wrists. 

“You come willingly or its by force.” He says serious this time. 

“As if you would.” You said offended and ripped your wrist from his hands and crossed your arms.

“I care about you my friend, I truly do. But your father scares me more.” Suddenly you were over the man's shoulders and he was walking towards the direction of your chambers.

-

It was a fight the whole way there until he set you down right in front of the door. You huffed and smoothed your dress out and opened the door.

“Sorry.” He says and you shut the door in his face. You had to see Aemond, there was no way you were able to stay in King's Landing now. 

Your best course was to get ready for bed and wait a bit until everyone was surely asleep and you could sneak out somehow. Ser Eowyn should be patrolling the halls by that time. 

You finished wrapping up your hair and threw a robe on. As you were looking in the mirror your door slammed open making you scream. Daemon walked in with a heavy step and started looking around the room.

“Are you mad? What if I were naked?” You crossed your arms and glared at him.

“Well it seems that's where you're trying to go with my nephew.” He looks into the closet.

“What are you talking about?” 

“A blind man could see what's going on between the two of you. You’re so infatuated with him you didn’t even defend your brothers.” 

“My brothers?” You scoffed. “They’re my half cousins at best. And maybe we wouldn’t be here if Rhaenyra made sure at least one of her sons looked the tiniest bit like me, don’t you agree?” 

“Mind your tongue.”

“Or what, you’re going to chop my head off?” You scoffed again and sat in a chair. “I'm not a child anymore, father. Please leave.” He let out a deep sigh before turning around and leaving. 

“I'm glad he did not see me.” A voice sounded from behind you and you almost jumped out of your skin. 

“Aemond?!” He stood there in the window and brought his hood down. “You can't be here.” 

“Why not?” He asks and unties his cloak and tossed it on a chair. “Were you not planning on seeing me?” 

“Yes but my father made it difficult.” 

“Hmm.” He says and your eyes flash to the dagger on his hips. “You’re not mad I shoved your brothers.” 

“Hmm, no.” You say standing up to stand before him. Aemonds heart started racing. “I don’t care enough to be mad.” Suddenly you unsheathed his dagger and playfully pointed at him. “Unless you want me too.

“Give that back, I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He says holding out his but you shake your head.

“Hurt myself? Who do you think I am? I can cut you down right here and nobody would know.” You say and started backing up. Aemond frowned and tried to lunge at you but you ran to the other side of the bed

You were playing him.

“Y/n.” He tried again but you dodged it and giggled. “Are you done?” You pouted and flipped the dagger so the blade was in your hand and the handle faced Aemond. 

“You’re no fun.” Aemond rolled his eye and walked towards you. The second his hand was reaching out  to grab the handle, you tossed the blade to the side of the room and grabbed Aemonds wrists and yanked him down so you could press your own lips against his. The prince was stunned but he let it happen. You slowly let go of his wrists and pushed yourself into his body. Aemond wrapped an arm around your waist so you could reach up and wrap an arm around his neck and back. 

The kiss was getting heated and you could feel yourself get dizzy at the lack of air. It was Aemond who pulled away first. 

“That was unexpected.” He squeezed your waist tightly making you bite your lip. You kissed him again and this time Aemond let his lust take over and walk backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell. He let you go so you only bounced on the bed. You brought your knees up so your nightgown fell and revealed your thighs. Aemond licked his lips and grabbed your knees. 

“We really shouldn’t.” You said and lifted yourself up to get rid of your robe.

“No. We shouldn’t.” Aemond says and he sinks to his knees and pushes his face down to disappear under the dress. “No small clothes like a common whore?” He kissed your inner thighs a few times before letting his tongue deleve straight into your folds making you gasp. You bunched up the bottom of the gown and scrunched it towards you so you could see Aemonds face. He pushed his nose into your clit and inhaled softly. Your face burnt in embarrassment.

“Aemond no.” 

“You smell divine.” He muffed and opened his mouth wide to devour you. Your fingers made their way into his hair and pulled tightly making him groan. His lips closed around your clit and he sucked harshly. 

“Aemond.” You arched your back and your leg made its way over his shoulder. “So good.” Aemond brought a finger up and plunged it in your hole. Your jaw slacked and your stomach tensed. 

“Oh gods.” He started thrusting his finger in while still not letting your clit go. It was better than your fingers would ever do. 

Your moans were loud while Aemond was practically silent. You bit the sheets of the bed and bucked up into his face, forcing hips lips off your clit and the hood of your clit catching on his nose 

“Aemond fuck.” You grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face flush against you. It allows you to start moving your hips up and down. Aemond just let it happen, regardless of how much he couldn’t breathe. He curled his finger slightly and your belly tightened and you let out a loud squeal as your orgasam washed over you. 

You slowly let Aemond go as your muscles spasmed. He sucked in a deep breath to fill his lungs back up before dipping down again and licking any juices that dribbled out. The overstimulation was unbearable so you practically shoved Aemond so he fell on his ass.

“Too much.” You laughed out of breath. Aemond shook his head in amusement before standing up. His erection pressing heavily against his pants was very evident. “Do you need help?” Your foot made its way up his legs before settling on his groin and you pushed against it. Aemond groaned and clasped a hand around your ankle. 

“I shouldn’t stay and you know that.” 

“But I want to return the favor.” You sat up completely and slowly shed the robe from your shoulders. “Don’t you want me too?” Aemond looks down at you with a dark glint in his eye. He dropped your ankle and stepped in between your legs.

“If we get caught. There would be a scandal.” He says and started undoing his vest. 

“I live for drama.” He tossed the material to the side to reveal his bare chest. He lifted one knee onto the bed and leaned over you, supporting his weight on his arm. 

“Then let us be the biggest scandal this kingdom has ever heard of.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him flush against your body. He kissed you deeply before pulling off and reaching down to the tie of his pants. He pulled the strings to loosen them up then pushed it down his hips to set under his ass. His cock jumped out, sliding against his stomach and sticking straight at you. 

“Is this what you’ve been hiding from court?” You reached out and tried to grab him but he slapped your hand away. 

“No time for that.” He pinned you down on the bed by your wrists with one hand. Your dress was once again around your waist but this time Aemonds hand ripped the top of your dress with one tug, releasing your breasts from their confinements. He took one in his mouth and released it. 

Aemond grabbed his cock and pushed his hips down so he could swipe the head along your fold. The tip got caught against your hole making you jump and struggle against Aemonds wrists. At seeing your struggle he instantly let you go. 

“Gently, Aemond. Please.” He chuckled. 

“Such a tease but you haven’t even let anyone touch you.” Your face burnt in embarrassment. “Did you learn anything in Dorne? They are known for being so open.” 

“Shut up and just fuck me Aemond.” He didn’t have to be told again as he pushed in. There was still some resistance so he reached down and rubbed your clit. You were a mix of groaning in discomfort and moaning in pleasure once he was fully inside you. 

Your hand found his and they entwined. He slowly started thrusting and you felt yourself loosening up. Aemonds eye fluttered shut and his head lowered to your ear, letting you hear his quiet sounds of pleasure. 

Your legs locked around his waist. Aemond sped up, your tightness was squeezing him deliciously. You bit his shoulder to muffle your moans. Your hands have found your breasts to allow you to pinch and tug at them, just to amplify the pleasure more. Aemond captured your lips again, your mouth opening to moan allowed the prince to slip his tongue in. 

You released your chest and grabbed the back of Aemonds hair and tore the band holding the strands of hair up. It framed his face and the speed of his thrusts and closeness of your bodies let the end tickle your body. You tugged his hair to force him off your lips and pressed your foreheads together as your body jerked at his harsh thrusts. 

“I-I want to see you as I cum cousin. All of you.” Aemond stopped his thrusts and your heart sank. He stared at you, seeming to be deep in thought. If you were any other woman, in any situation. He would’ve said no. But the way the moon shone on your body, revealing the glistening from the layer of sweat or how your face was blissed out all due to him. 

He shed the eye patch and threw it across the room. You looked at him in awe, the shimmering of the gem was beautiful. But it turned into pleasure once again as his hand grabbed your throat and pushed you into the bed. Holding you to the bed as his thrusts started again, deep and harsh. 

“A-Aemond.” You squealed and his hand tightened to cut your airways slightly . His cock continuously rubbed against the spot inside you leaving you even more breathless. “Gonna cum!” Your face twisted and your jaw slacked as you came all over Aemond. He groaned at the tightness which squeezed him tight enough for his seed to shoot out and fill you up. Your legs tightened against him, pulling him even closer. 

He let you go and grabbed your legs to unwrap them from his hips so he could fall down. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths. 

You would’ve fallen asleep if it weren’t for Aemond getting up and putting his clothes. 

“Why are you leaving? The fun has just started.” You brought your knees together and swayed them side to side. 

“It is late, cousin.” You rolled your eyes at his sudden bluntness.

“Just one more time, please.” You pleaded with a pout. In the process of tying his pants together, he looked behind himself to give himself a taste at the sight below him. 

His pants were dropped completely this time. 

-

It was the cool steel blade resting on Aemond’s jugular that woke him up. He swallowed deeply and he stayed still. The one thing he could think of was to awaken you. So he squeezed your hips tightly from under the blanket. You stirred instantly and turned around. 

“Wanting more alr- father.” You scrambled out the bed, taking the sheets with you. You stood up with the sheet to your chest. Aemond was still frozen, now bare for everyone to see. “Please don’t.” Daemon looked at you then down at his nephew before pulling the blade back. 

“No need for the hostility uncle.” 

“Shut up, and get out.” The man says and Aemond gets up. You were looking down, frozen in place. Aemond tugged his pants on and found his eyepatch to slip it on over his wild hair. His boots followed, then he grabbed his dagger and ended with his vest. Aemond walked out the room in silence. 

“Father-.” Daemon simply held a finger up to silence you. 

“Make yourself decent.” The Dark Sister was placed back in her usual spot on the prince's hip. Before Daemon walked out, the flash of red on the bed stopped him. The little blood splotches on the sheets reminded him of everything that transpired during the night.

-

You were led to the council room by a knight. There was Alicent who was scolding Aemond, who looked very unamused. Otto stood behind him with his arms crossed. Rhaenyra sat on the other side of the table silently, while Daemon paced back and forth. Alicent stopped talking once she took notice that you stood in the entrance. Everyone else looked up.

“Sit.” Daemon sharply pointed at the open seat next to Rhaenrya and you obeyed instantly. The second you were seated the screaming started.

“How could you be so foolish!” 

“I raised you better than this.”

“Do you understand the consequences of your actions?” 

“You’ve brought shame to our houses, to our family.”

It was safe to say everything said was directed both to you and Aemond. 

“You knew not to taint yourself and you do it anyway.” Daemon says and you roll your eyes.

“Oh please like you hadn’t gone through every whore in Fleabottom by the time you were my age.”

“Aemond you know better than to take the maidenhead of a lady, what if she becomes with child?” 

“Then marry me to her.” He says and everyone's eyes widen in shock. “Save yourself the drama and marry me to her.” He says again and turns his face to Daemon.

“Nobody would question it.” You say. “The people would be told it was a way to fix our split house, but in reality if I were to have a baby. They wouldn’t know.” Otto and Alicent shared a look.

“It isn’t the worst idea.” Otto says. 

“No.” Daemon says. “I’ll just marry her off to an old fat lord in the North who is in need of an heir.” 

“Daemon.” Rhaenerya instantly stood up. “She is your child, you wouldn’t dare send her through such horrors.”

“My child decided to act like a whore.” 

Your chest tightened and your breath hitched, trying to hold back tears. Suddenly Aemond slammed both his fists into the table and drew his sword. Otto grabbed Alicent by her arms and pulled her away. 

“Say that again.” Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister and the two blades met across the table. Rhaenerya grabbed your hand and led you out the chair. 

“Now you believe what's best for her?” Daemon says and Aemond cocks his head to the side.

“I'm not threatening to send her away uncle, I am a far better man than any in the realm.” 

“Oh stop this madness, I am your Queen!” Alicent says but neither man stepped down. “Y/n is of age, if she chooses to marry Aemond, then I will allow it.” Tears were running down your cheeks but you nodded furiously.

“Yes. I will marry him.” 

Aemond gave Daemon a sly smile with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“So be it.” The older Targaryen man walked away. Aemond let out a satisfied “Mmm” before putting his sword away.

“Aemond?” You say from the other side of the table.

“Yes my lady.”

“Thank you.”

-

Mushroom would write that it was Lady Y/n and Prince Aemonds lust for each other that kept Princess Rhaenyra on King's Landing. Just after the betrothal of the Lady and Prince, it had been announced that King Viserys had passed. Otto Hightowers plans were thrown from the window as he witnessed the coronation from the crowds with a mighty scowl noticeable by all.

As for the Lady and Prince. Their wedding was in 4 months, but in just a month in a half. The wedding was quickly rushed to happen in two weeks from when the Lady discovered she was with child. The child who would be Rhaegar Targaryen. 

-

A/n- don’t worry daemon and y/n’s relationship does eventually fix itself as we see they are very close later in the series.

[sallieraptor]

[huge post alert]

I have so much to say about Kinger! first of all, about his memory, and how he remembers things in the dark,

since the beginning, he always seems to feel better and more sane in the dark. no matter how small the dark is, whether he's in his pillow fort, with something covering his head, or just with his eyes closed. it's subtle, but it's there.

like when he comforted Ragatha, telling her that he remembered how her adaptation to the circus was, so she felt better and didn't feel the urge to worry so much about Pomni's own adaptation; he had a bucket on his head, which grounded him, and made him say things that made sense for Ragatha, surprising her.

also, he was the only one speaking with his eyes closed at Kaufmo's funeral. we didn't see what they said that day, but from his facial expression and body language, I assume he was saying something that came from his heart, especially since it was the funeral of a friend who had abstracted. a friend who's gone in the same way as the person he loved the most.

having lost his wife, and having the last time he saw her be one of the last things still keeping him sane, means a lot to him. like he said, it's not the cheerful memory ever, but at least it's one he can control. the dark usually sounds scary to most people, but to him, it's kinda... safe. imagine how many times he and his wife were alone in his their fort? how many memories they must have made in there, no matter how small and silly they were. and it was the last place they were together for the last time. it's a place that he could be afraid of, that he could associate with losing her, that he could associate with the last memory he had with her, that he could associate with emptiness... but he managed to turn the dark into a place that grounds him. into a place that motivates him to continue, into a place that keeps him alive. it's no wonder he always seems so brave when the lights turn off. it's no wonder he guided Pomni so well, and managed to make her feel at least a little calmer. the dark is not an unfamiliar place for him. it's a place that feels like home, and that's exactly why he's able to act more rationally.

and it's because the lost of his wife, that Kinger holds so much onto the people who mean the most to him, and does everything (in whatever way he can) to protect them. we can see that since the first episodes, he is always the person who tries to comfort, and specifically, save the others. like:

[Pilot] when he tried to save Zooble from the Gloinks, failed, Zooble cursed him, and in the end he was still relieved that they were well and safe. even though it was a in-house adventure, he still cared, and was happy to help, being excited about winning the rock-paper-scissors with Gangle;

[Episode 2] or when he kept throwing things at Pomni so she could try to hold onto it and get out of the moving truck.

Pomni asked for help, and apart from Ragatha who was asking for them to try to get Pomni out of there, he was the only one to actually take any action to try to help, even though it was only making the situation worse, or just not helping at all;

[Episode 2] or even when Jax threatened to tell the Fudge monster that Ragatha's hair looked like licorice, Kinger paid attention, noticed that Jax was right, and to protect Ragatha, he went to look for a bucket, and when he found it, he used it to cover her hair;

[Episode 3] and today, he was totally willing to throw himself into a bizarre door without even thinking twice, just to get Gangle's mask and give it back to her, because he knows how much the mask means to her;

aand part 2 because tumblr doesn't allow more images in one post and I can't shut up... oopsie...

[writers-hes]

Eye of the Storm

SERIES SUMMARY: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

Chapter summary: Everything unfolds and you were the eye of the storm.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

LONDON, 1919

Something clicked in Simon after Johnny’s funeral. He restricted you more than he did before. He was more forceful sometimes. You knew, because you braced yourself to face it everyday. 1…2…3…4…5… You had to count to ten every time he got mad. How many seconds will it take for him to lay his hand on you again? 

“From now on, you can’t come to the garden without asking for my permission.” When he saw your mouth open to protest, he added, “Don’t push it. You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to go.”

“O-of course, Simon,” you tearfully obliged. “I— “

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Good. Now, come here, darling. You know I can’t stand when you’re mad at me,” he coos and you oblige, finding yourself perched on his lap. You hated this; hated how he was treating you. Hated how his arms immediately wrapped around you. “I know that you’re mad at me,” he starts. “Especially with everything that’s been going on but I’m only worried that Tommy Shelby’s gonna take you.” 

“He’s not…you don’t have to worry about him, Simon,” you whispered. “I didn’t know that he was alive,”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But do you know where that puts me? You’ve been his friend since before the war and I’m not anything like him. It’s not you I don’t trust…it’s him. He’s a Birmingham rat with no respect. I want you safe. I want you here. If you behave yourself, then I’d slowly give you everything back. Hm?” he asked. 

You nodded, the small smile on your face could never convey how cold you felt.

Simon knows that what he’s doing is wrong but what else can be done? Tommy Shelby was back and there was no way he’s giving you up to some Birmingham gangster. It was just impossible to do so. It would hurt him and his ego. He’s never been declined of something before as an only child of two rich parents. If he’d be declined of your love and affection, he will burn the world and everything in it. You were the only thing he truly wanted and if it came to you, he’d do everything to never let you out of his grasp.

When he first seeked you out, you were eighteen. He was already enamoured, watching you from afar. You laughed with the girls and stayed with Big Johnny most nights. You were innocent, a fragile little thing that he wanted—needed. You listened to him and even treated him as a friend. It was different from how the girls treated him there. The girls would ask for gifts, and he bought them but you…you dressed up immediately after every visit. You’d smile at him before leaving, going to Johnny for your nightly lessons. He sometimes went to visit you just to talk. You were the most intelligent girl there and he always looked forward to seeing you again. If you slip away from his grasp, he wouldn’t know what to do. It’s why he bought you that house; why he gave you jewellery even before you were married. He wanted you to be reminded of him everywhere you went. It was dangerous dealing with your past—he knew that; but danger was something he’d walk on if it came to having you.  

“Darling, I was thinking…it’s been a while since we last went on a holiday. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. Reports of Tommy Shelby in London reached him. There was no way he’d let you meet again.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Can we go to New York?” you asked. “I’ve been wanting to go to Manhattan this time of year.”

“Yeah?” he asked. The farther you were from Tommy, the better. “Then, I’ll have things arranged and I’ll let you know, okay?” he kisses your temple as he passes by.

“Of course,” you replied. Your face seems so unreadable these days, but it always was. Can Tommy Shelby decipher the emotions written on your face or does he have to guess too? He knows that you were still keeping things away from him…knows that you’re not being fully honest with how you feel and who Tommy Shelby was in your life. He was fine not knowing as long as you were his. 

Irrevocably and utterly his. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

“You know, Tommy,” you said. “When I was young, my mother told me that there were other lands outside England…outside Birmingham that isn’t London,” you said. Your savings could take you to London, but you could never seem to find the time. Simon has been visiting you more and the owner of the brothel ordered you to always be available for him because of how much he spends on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to go to London at least once. Before I die, I want to go to London,” 

“I’ll take you to London,” he says, voice gruff from the cigarettes. “I’ll take you to London and I’ll take you to the whole world,” 

“You will?” you asked. You were always told by your customers that they’ll take you here and there…but with Tommy, you knew that what he was saying was true. He never liked to break his promises. “If you’ll take me there, I better save up money because there’s no way I’m letting you spend a fortune on me.”

“I’ll take you to New York, Paris, and all the major cities. We’ll see them for the first time together,” he promises.

“Together?”

“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”

“Of course, we will. Together,”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

Grace has long been gone since Polly revealed the truth to her. Was it mad that Tommy didn’t feel any morsel of anything? He didn’t care if she betrayed him; didn’t care if she loved him…if anything, she was better off gone. It just…unsettled him. Was that the right word? He never liked Grace, but she was a good enough replacement for you in the meantime. She was good enough, but she wasn’t you, no matter how much Tommy forced himself to convince everyone that she was good enough. 

He didn’t even think of lighting a cigarette for her departure. These guns, Billy Kimber…his ambitions of wealth, power, and control were too consuming for him to think of anything else. Too consuming that he knew that all ambition all boiled down to you, that mansion, horses, and a garden. He looks at the toy horses you’ve given him as children. It’s been showing signs of wear; time has the power to tear the edges of something precious so easily. Tommy liked thumbing the wooden toy to keep him afloat sometimes. It reminded him of peace, of home, of you. 

“Tommy,” Polly called. Her conscience has been nagging her, steaming out of pores ever since Tommy showed her how much you meant to him. It was never easy remembering Tommy on the floor, so weak; so defeated. It was never easy to remember that she was the reason why Tommy was miserable. She took you away from him. She decided then, that she’d do everything in her power to help her grieving nephew. If your presence could show her any semblance of Tommy before the war, she’d take it. Maybe she should feel bad for burdening you with that weight on your shoulders, but she knew that you did it so naturally…so genuinely. She relieves herself of thinking that you and Tommy needed each other; so much so that the world she knows now will simply reintegrate. You were the glue that binds Tommy; the melted gold that holds the pieces back together. Without you, Tommy was broken—alone. She’d never want that for him. She’ll never want to see him like that again. 

NEW YORK, 1920

When you told Simon that you wanted to go to New York, you didn’t know that you’ll be staying there indefinitely. You just said that to appease him, really. He made sure that all of your belongings were kept and taken to America. What didn’t fit, you’d buy. He was more lenient here. He’d let you go, and he was back to the Simon you’ve always known. 

“You’ve been married for years,” his attorney’s wife recalls. “Where are the little Simons running around?”

“Oh-“ you looked at Simon to help you out, but he was too engrossed in his conversation with the lawyer to notice. “We’re still enjoying our marriage. Just the two of us,” you lied. “We like to travel and we’ll feel bad if we just…leave the child back home,”

“But you’re in New York,” she says, like it mattered. “Surely, you’ve been trying?”

“No, not really. Simon wants our child to be born in England.” you said.

“You’re not getting any younger, dear,” she says. “When I was around your age, I already had two children. I say, it’s better to start a family early,”

That night, when you were removing your jewellery, Simon laid his hand on your shoulder. He’s gentle in New York. Your shoulder used to feel heavy in London. He started kissing your neck and you allowed him.

“An heir wouldn’t be so bad,” he rasps, nibbling on your ear. “Maybe soon…I want to have you all to myself first. Don’t want you to love me any less because of a child,”

“I wouldn’t love you any less, Simon.” you smiled at him. You didn’t want to bear his heir but if he was convinced that you’ll love him less because of a child, you’ll string him along. 

“I know but then, you’d dote on him and be all…” he drones on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone else. It can just be the two of us forever.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“Tommy!” you called, walking through the muddy soil of the stables that he worked in. He took care of horses sometimes, to earn some extra money. It paid well and he was surrounded with the calmness of the horses that he took care of. He vowed to have his own stables filled with his own horses in the future. Maybe it was pathetic but Tommy was envious seeing things that he wanted being taken advantage of. He knew how to take care of horses but he never owned them. His dreams were so close yet so far. He was brushing the coat of one of the horses when you came barrelling towards him.

“Tommy!” you called again. “I’m free now. Let’s go!”

“Wait, wait,” he laughs, making sure that the horse—he secretly named him Hayday because the horse had a coat in the color of hay. He only told you that though. “Alright, Hayday. Let’s get you back to your stable,” he tells the horse, petting its snout. You smiled at his softness, following them quietly. You let Tommy do his job maintaining Hayday for a while, smiling widely when you saw him coming towards you. He was rubbing his face with water to get rid of today. 

“I smell.” he frowned, looking through his ragged satchel for a towel or an extra shirt. “Let me just…” he says, taking the shirt from the bag and then giving the bag to you. He turns around to remove his dirty shirt, tucking it between his legs and then changing into the cleaner shirt. You watched the way his back muscles flexed—working as a mechanic and carrying whatever he does was paying off. The clean shirt clung onto his figure nicely…you looked away before he could catch you staring though. “Thanks for keeping my bag,” he says, taking his bag from you. He hangs it on his shoulder and then links his arm with yours. You couldn't see the smirk that played in his lips.  “Where are we going again?”

“Remember, I told you to come with me to the market to buy something?” you asked him. He nods, letting you lead the way to the market. “Well, I’m free now. Let’s go.”

Tommy tells you all about his day on the way to the market, not knowing anything of what you had planned. It was his birthday last month, but you weren’t able to save up enough money for his gift because of a repair in your home. You drag him all the way to where the more expensive shops were, Tommy’s brows furrowing. 

“Here,” you said, stopping at a jeweller. You take him inside and he lets you. 

“What are we doing here— “

“Look!” you said, pointing at the gold signet ring on display. You leave Tommy to go get the clerk. You’ve been paying for the ring for a year now; little by little until you were able to fully pay for it. It was a gift for Tommy’s 21st birthday. You were talking to the clerk for a pick up when Tommy walks to you. The clerk gives you the red velvet box and you turn to Tommy, a wide smile on your face. 

“Who is this for?” he asked, frowning. Was this for that Rich Bastard? “You know I can’t afford that,”

“But I can. It’s for you,” you told him softly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry it was a month late,” You open the box for him. “Go on, wear it.”

“Y/N…love,”

“You have to accept it. I saved up for that, you know?” He takes the ring from the box and slides it on his ring finger. 

“Thank you…” he rasps, his throat closing up. “For this.”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I’d give you the world if I can but for now, a ring would suffice, don’t you think?”

-

You both settled at an empty grassland by the docks afterwards. Tommy couldn’t stop looking at his ring. 

“I still can’t believe you got me a ring,” he says, looking at you. “It must have cost you a fortune, eh?”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I want to give you something more for being a great friend to me.” you tell him. He nods at your words. Friends. Is that all he’ll ever be? 

“I got you this,” he says, showing you the simple, lone daisy that he picked on the way here. “I…” he says, tucking it behind your ear. I wish I could give you more. You stopped breathing, the proximity was too much to bear. You could see the blueness of his eyes, the freckles that kissed his nose and his cheeks. You could see every eyelash. It seemed like he didn’t mind it either. He was looking at you intently, trying to memorize every detail of your face. A face that could start a war, he was almost positive of it. You both unintentionally lean into each other, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to your lips, breath hitching. 

“Tommy!” you jump away from each other, looking away. Fuck. He sighs in annoyance, looking at one of the guys he knew from work. 

Maybe next time.

CAMDEN TOWN, 1921

“Put him down, Ollie!” he shouts. “Put him down, mate. He is only little.”

“You on your own?” He asked Tommy.

Tommy glances around. 

“Seems so,”

Alfie Solomons always liked to play the best games. He had wide shoulders that matched how dominant and domineering he seemed. He was unpredictable, abandoning all sorts of things just to make sure that in the end, he gets the best deal. Tommy wondered what kind of deal he could put up with the Jewish gangster to double cross Simon Coventry, his biggest payer.

“Well, you’re a brave lad, ain't you?” he asked. “Want to take a look around my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it?” 

Tommy listens to him drone on about bread. He asked for brown bread and was served one. 

“Come look,” Alfie says, leading Tommy to his office. 

-

“Well, I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You’re gipsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”

“I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy coughs. 

“Well, rum is for fun and fucking. So, whiskey, now that is for business,” he says, putting his bottle of whiskey for Tommy Shelby.

“Let’s talk first, eh?” 

“Suit yourself,” Alfie shrugs. 

“Heard you were dealing with billionaires,” Tommy brought up, trying to gauge the situation. He was sitting right in front of Alfie’s desk, noticing the latter reach for the drawer in his right. 

“You heard correct. What about it?” he asked nonchalantly. 

“Simon Coventry.” Tommy said. “He pays well?”

“Very well, mate.” Alfie replied, sipping on his whiskey. “Seeked for our protection services, invested…paid to kill for him. Has a wife, you know? Have you heard about her?”

“No,” Tommy shrugged, his voice monotonous, eyes bored. Alfie licks his lips. 

“Never met her…lovely wife, they say, yeah. A very lovely wife…but this lovely wife of his needs to be guarded. Don’t believe in all that…I don’t do that to women, but this lovely wife of his is…huh, well, told me to kill anyone who comes near her, yeah? And guess what, mate? You’ve a big fucking bounty written on your fucking forehead,” Alfie revealed. “Now,” he pauses, leaning on the table. “What is this business you’re looking for?”

“We join forces,”

“Fuck off. No! Categorical. Fucking ridiculous,” he leans back, scoffing. Tommy leans forward, clasping his hand over the table. 

“Mr. Solomons. Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent and the rest; you make from the tracks.”

Alfie fumbles with the handle but Tommy speaks.

“I know you keep a gun in the drawer beside the whiskey. I know you offer a deal or death. I know what I’m saying makes you angry but I’m offering you a deal. People don’t trust your protection anymore. What makes you think that Simon Coventry will continue to trust you?” he asked. 

“Well, you shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That’s you. You fucking betrayed him, mate. So, it’ll be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to you right now.”

“I can offer you a hundred good men all with weapons and a new relationship with the police.” 

“Intelligence,” Alfie says. “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend? And usually…it comes far too fucking late,” he reaches for the drawer on his left, pointing the gun at Tommy. He cocks the gun and Tommy sits there, unblinking. “Let’s say I shot you already, right? In the fucking face. And then the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there. Which is a shame.”

Tommy just sits there, his face devoid of any emotion. If he gets killed now, he doesn't care. He had no fear of death anymore.

“It’s fucking simple, mate,”

Blood trails down from Tommy’s nose and Alfie talks about some fucking cabinet behind him. He throws Tommy his handkerchief, but he doesn’t take it. Fucking cabinets and fucking asking him if Tommy wanted to go to Timbuktu. 

“I’m sorry, go on,” Alfie concedes after telling Tommy that he always thought he’d have a big gold ring on his finger. It was only a small signet ring that Tommy was unconsciously playing with under the table. “Tell us your plan.” 

NEW YORK, 1921

“I just got off the phone with the secretary. We’re invited to some Charity Gala in London that we have to go to,” Simon says. Simon says…seems like all you do is follow what Simon says. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go.”

“When is this?”

“In a week mostly,” he shrugged. “It would be great to have you there. It’s not grand or anything; it’s just a few of my partners having an event for some charity or foundation.”

“Oh,” you nodded. You wanted to be away from Simon, but you also wanted to go back to London. How were the Shelbys? How was Beth? “Yeah…yeah, I’ll go,”

“Perfect,” he says. “Your dress? You need a new one. I’ll arrange a trip for you with my assistant to help you look for what to wear. You have to be the most beautiful woman there. For reference, I prefer blue on you.”

“Okay, Simon. I’ll make sure to get a blue dress for you.” He smiles at you before turning the page on his newspaper. You were glad that things were back to how they were before Tommy arrived in Birmingham. You didn’t blame him—Tommy—Simon’s actions were your own fault. Who in the right mind would let their wife love another man? It’s not like Simon knew of your love but the fact that you hid who Tommy was from him still remains. Letting go of Tommy that night was…painful.

You couldn’t erase how crest-fallen he looked; that you were the cause for his anguish. He didn’t follow you; you told him not to. You didn’t want him to see you sit outside the Garrison with your head buried in your hands. You didn’t want him to see you howl in pain because you’ll never see him again. You didn’t want him to see how it hurt you to say goodbye to him.

You didn’t want him to see you but someone else did. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You looked up from your cowering position, eyelashes clumped. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I just…I just left your brother,” you whispered, trying to even out the sob that threatens to get out of your body. Arthur frowns, crouching down in front of you.  He tries to remove your shaky hands only to be met with your bruising jaw. 

“Did Tommy— “

“No,” you shook your head. “He didn’t hit me.”

He nods. Arthur didn’t know who Tommy was these days. He’s closed off, aloof, cold, detached…he sometimes wonders if a time comes and he’ll just snap. Arthur’s coping mechanism was violence. He knows that he’s good…his hands or only bloody but Tommy…Tommy wasn’t good anymore. He felt conflicted; everyone seems to put all the burden on you to make Tommy come back…to make him good again. He heard Polly talk about it; how Tommy needed you…but if Tommy was the reason why you’re miserable, is he still worth coming back to?

“I told Tommy to never see me again,” you managed through your cries. “I feel…I feel so lost, Arthur. I didn’t want to do that—to say that to him when-when he’s here now but I have no other choice…he’ll get-he’ll—“

“What about you?” he asked, tracing big circles on your back.

“What do you mean?” you asked, hiccuping. 

“I mean…you talk about Tommy and-and making sure that we’re all doing great but what about you, eh?” There was a small frown on his face, it was so different from the ‘Mad Dog’ that people know him as. 

“I don’t need that,” you chuckled. “I’m married to-to—“

“Simon Coventry, I know. But who do you have other than him? I know you love Tommy—don’t even fucking deny it. It’s why you’re doing all these things, I know but Tommy has us; he has Birmingham, and you don’t,” he adds, tearing your heart into pieces. The realisation of isolation dawns on you and it is wicked; consuming your heart with grief because you had no one. Not Tommy. Not anymore. “You make sure that all of us are being taken care of…but no one’s taking care of you. This whole thing-this thing with Tommy, is it worth it if you can’t even come home to Simon because you’re fucking crying in front of The Garrison?”

“I don’t know what to do,” you shrugged. “I…I just can’t seem to stay away from you lot,”

“Oh, love,” he sighs. He’ll never tell anyone that he saw you crying in front of the Garrison. “Why did you marry him?”

“Because…I wasn’t sure if Tommy’s coming back,” you whispered softly. You wiped away the tears from your face, trying to regain composure. “I sent…sent letters but he never wrote back. When Simon proposed the idea of marriage and Tommy wasn’t-wasn’t writing to me, I just took the chance. It was a chance to get out of that fucking hellhole. Tommy hates me for it,” you whimpered. “I know he hates me for it because I always told him that I’ll wait but-but he didn’t write back. I didn’t wait for him.”

Arthur frowns, confused. 

“He wrote to you but you never wrote to him,” he said.

“What?” 

“He did, love. Wrote to you multiple times and-and he’d always be the first one to show up when there were letters from home. Always-always looking for your letter,” he reminisces. Deep in your heart, you knew that he was telling you the truth because there was some sort of empty longing that crossed his eyes. “He waited for your letters every day for four years.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, looking at you more intently. “None of us knew you got married,” he added. 

“Arthur—“ You were heaving, this changes things. Your resentment towards Tommy was all in vain if he sent you letters but where were those letters? Where could they be? Seeing you in distress, Arthur flings his arm around your shoulder. “I hated him for it…I hated him for four years…” you weeped. “Arthur, how could I haveever hated him?” You felt like cold water was splashed on your face. Of course, Tommy would have never done that to you. But who did?

“It’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.”

-

LONDON, 1921

It’s been long since you last stepped foot in London. A year wasn’t a long time but a year teetering on the edge waiting for the next blow was a year too long. It’s not that you were expecting anything, but now that you’re in London…so close to Tommy, you know that everything will be different again. He’ll be forceful under the pretext of loving you, some bullshitt about it being for the better…you knew it was wrong. You knew that it wasn’t right. You hated your predicament, but you hated yourself more for never seeming to have the ability to hate him. 

You never questioned his love for you; you were sure about that but sometimes…you found yourself questioning if he loved you too much. You’ve never experienced love like that before. Too much love. Growing up, you always had just enough. What you couldn’t find from your mum, you found in Johnny. What you couldn’t find in your customers, you found in the Shelbys. What you couldn’t find from yourself, you found in Tommy. What you couldn’t find in Tommy, you tried to look for in Simon. 

Everything was just right. To have too much was too much. 

“You’ve been quiet since we got here, darling,” Simon says, his hand on your knee as you rode the Bentley back home. 

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “I just miss London. It’s different to be back home,”

“I know,” he says. “But we’re here now. Where do you prefer?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing with his fingers. You thumbed the rings on his fingers, your wedding band the most important one. 

“I’m asking…where do you want to build our family?” he asked. “I know I said that I didn’t want to have children yet but we aren’t getting any younger. We’d make the most beautiful children. They’ll get your beauty and intelligence. They’ll inherit whatever they want to inherit from me,”

Your fingers stilled. 

“Hmm,” you pretended to think, trying to playt the cards right. “I’d want our children to grow up in London.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his head falling on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I want them to grow up here but also experience different things from travelling. Maybe we could find a summer house in Italy?” you asked. He kisses your neck and you sit there cold, unmoving. 

“Yes, let’s buy a house in Italy…” he murmurs, drunk on your scent. “How many houses do you want, hm? Let’s buy whatever my wife wants…whatever she needs, hm?” 

“You spoil me too much, Simon,” you force out a giggle. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Only for the best. You’re going to be the mother of my children,” 

-

You arrived home and you heaved a sigh. You went inside your bedroom, ready to unpack some of the items you bought from New York when your eyes landed on the frame of pressed flowers that Tommy gave you on your birthday. Simon has been telling you to get rid of it—it was tacky, he said but you told him that the flowers were from a day of picnicking with your mother when you were a child. You felt your lips twitch at the memory of Tommy giving it to you sheepishly. If only you could have him back now. If only he’s there with you. 

You breathed deeply, trying to purge yourself of the sadness that lingered. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen him. He’s staying true to his word, you knew. He’s protecting you and you’re protecting him. You hated the situation you were in. Why did you need protection in the first place? You were the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the whole world. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. You could have everything but why do you feel so alone? Why do you feel like there’s still something missing? Why do you feel like, no matter what you did—no matter how you tried, Tommy’s still the one you love? You reached for the pendant but you remembered that it wasn’t there.

Was it selfish to wish for him to never marry someone else? To never love anyone? Was it selfish to wish for him to finally love you the way you do all these years? 

Or was he only protecting you because he’s bound by his words and not the feeling of unbridled love that he has for you? 

Polly told you that you could have everything…you felt like you had nothing. 

You had more when you were working as a prostitute. 

Now, you just have Simon. 

-

Simon has been feeling your detachment ever since you arrived in New York. He knew that it was his fault; laying his hand on you like that but could anyone really blame him? You were his love; the object of all of his desires. You needed protecting, you needed safety and you needed him to give you the world. 

He was in his office, sorting through the files that he left for a year. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He wanted you all for himself. He was hungry for you; hunger for your affection, your flesh, your gaze. He’ll do everything to preserve the attention that you were giving him but now that he feels you slipping away, he’s becoming more desperate. It was all Tommy Shelby’s fault and he needed to be dealt with. 

“I sent you the money for the murder of Johnny Wilson,” he speaks into the telephone. “I need you to do gsomething for me again.”

“Hm?” 

Simon speaks into the phone authoritatively. Details of his plan were spoken. He was meticulous and specific with what he wanted.

“Even…even the children?”

“Even the children,” he confirms. He senses the hesitation of the speaker from the other side. “If you do it in less than a year, I’ll add another twenty thousand to the total. I’ll make sure you never have to work a day in your fucking life. Call me when it’s done,” he spits, ending the call and looking at a photo of you on the table; not knowing that on the other side, an intruder was hearing everything that just transpired. 

Who was Simon Coventry? 

-

Cameras flashed as you enter the venue for the charity ball. You were dressed in a blue gown like promised. Simon’s hand was on your waist, smiling tightly at the cameras. He always hated the attention of the media and in your own way, you wanted to calm him down. You touch the hand that was on your waist to remind him that you were there. You smile at him softly and he smiles back. If only he was as soft as he presents himself to be in the media. 

He leads you into the venue without so much a glance offered to the media and you follow. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you smiled up at him. 

“You can go ahead and sit,” he says. “I’ll just be greeting some of my partners.” You nod and you allow him to kiss you on the cheek before you part ways. You didn’t know why—but you felt like something was wrong. Something was going to happen tonight. 

A waiter comes to your table and offers you a drink. He was young—probably way younger than you.

“Champagne, please,” you told him. “You’re too young to be working,”

“I-I’m nineteen, ma’am,” he tells you while pouring you a glass.

“Ah, maybe not that young then,” you replied. “Is this your first day?”

“Yes, ma’am. My first day on the job,” he says. “I’m quite nervous to be surrounded by the rich but I need the money…”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” you replied, offering him a friendly smile. “Here,” you said, opening your clutch and handing him a few pounds. “Think of it as a tip for serving me champagne and for talking to me.”

“This is too much, ma’am,” he refuses but you shove the notes in his hand. You remembered how tips from the brothel helped you so much; it allowed you to buy necessities. It allowed you to get Tommy the signet ring that you got him for his 21st birthday. You were busy talking to the young man that you didn’t notice your husband walking towards you with a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, you,” he sarcastically greets the server, snapping his fingers rudely.. “Refill my glass,”

“Simon— “

“Thank you,” he says, disregarding you completely. The boy turns to leave but Simon stops him. “No, stay. I need you to refill my fucking drink every time.”

“Simon—“

“You think my wife is beautiful?” he asked. The boy looks at you and you attempt to shake your head; telling him to walk away before anything else happens. “I’d be offended if you told me that she wasn’t.”

“Simon— “

He takes a swig of his drink before extending the same empty glass.

“What’s your name?” Simon asked, watching the boy shakily refill the champagne flute. “Don’t spill anything on my wife,” he threatens darkly. The boy swallows. 

“William, sir,”

“William…do you think my wife is pretty?” he asked again. You look around the room to see that everyone was trying to discreetly watch the commotion. You tried standing up but Simon pushed you back down.

“Y-yes, sir,”

Simon nods, pleased with William’s answer.

“You may go, William,” you calmly told him.

“You may not,” Simon says. William’s feet were stuck planted on the ground. He was shaking and you tried to plead with Simon, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Actually, let’s take this outside, hm? Everyone seems to be enjoying this fucking commotion. Come with us, Y/N,”

“Simon, please,”

“Come on, darling,” he says, pulling you away forcefully from the table. You stumble after him, heart racing wildly inside your chest. Fuck. Your shoulders were shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The three of you arrive in the wine cellar, an empty room where you were sure no one heard you. 

“Stand there,” Simon says. “Y/N, stay beside me.”

William stands in front of Simon, his steps hesitant.

“I’ll give you a deal, William. Do you want a thousand pounds? You’ll never find that anywhere else,” he taunts. You shake your head discreetly, but William wasn't looking at you. He was pale, his breathing shallow. “I’ll give it to you right now. Cash,”

“Y-yes, sir,” he replies. 

“Say please,”

“Simon—“

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Please, sir,”

“Kneel and beg.”

“Simon, it’s not right! Please, let’s just go home,” 

William kneels in front of Simon, and you could see the sinister smile that played on his lips. He fishes for something in his pocket—a gun. 

“S-sir,”

“You want a thousand pounds, yeah?” he asked, waving his gun in the air. 

“Simon—“

“I don’t want another word from you, Y/N. Or else, I swear, I will fucking shoot you.” he threatens. You were trying your best to stop being so hysterical but you couldn’t. You were sobbing, hands shaking when Simon pointed the gun at the poor boy. You tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out; tried to wonder what a monster Simon becamez

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you choked, crouching down on the floor to comfort yourself. “I’m sorry, William…”

BANG! BANG!

The sounds of a gun going off rings inside the cellar and you flinch. Simon has just shot William twice; one on his stomach, one on his shoulder. It was sloppy; you knew he was aiming for his heart. William lays on the floor with a pool of his own blood, crying in pain. Simon just walks towards him, throwing him a thousand pounds and then spitting on William’s face. 

“Don’t ever look at my fucking wife again. Fix yourself Y/N. We’re going back to the party,”

“Simon, he’s just a kid! Get him to a fucking hospital!”

“I said, fix yourself!” he roared, and you closed your mouth. You stepped away from him, afraid of what he might do.

“Now you know what happens if you ever try to leave me. It’s time for me to show you what I will do to protect you, okay darling?” he asked, crouching down to your level and pulling you in an embrace. He kisses your temples to comfort you for the damage that he has done. “Don’t ever leave me,”

The two of you left William’s body and went back to the party. You were shaken, aloof the whole night. You couldn’t believe what just transpired. Simon’s cruelty—his disregard for himan life for a thousand pounds… You were trying to catch the attention of other servers but were ignored. You just wanted someone to check on William, that poor boy. You and your husband continued to sit beside each other acting like the happy couple, never noticing the pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into you. 

-

Simon killed Johnny. 

Your hands shook as you read the handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper over and over again. You found it in the clutch that you left in your seat when Simon shot William in the cellar. Turning the paper over, you sobbed; unable to control the emotions that begged for your attention—anger, fear, disgust, sadness…everything seemed to crash into you. You run towards the bathroom to vomit on the toilet. Your whole body tembled, and you cradled yourself on the bathroom floor. You didn’t care if the dress was wet and crumpled…how…why…what did you do in your past life to be punished like this? 

-

You haven’t been the same since you received that note. Simon found you in bed; unmoving and unresponsive. The shock must have been too much to bear but he had to show you—he had to put on a display of what he would do to keep you safe and away from the Shelbys. He didn’t regret anything except for the way your eyes glistened when he threatened to shoot you. That was a sin he’d pay for but for now, maybe silence is enough to soothe you. 

He lays in bed, an inch too far away from you and he couldn’t bear it. He could hear the way your sobs shook the bed; how hard you tried to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“Darling…” he coos but you only cried harder. 

“Not tonight, Simon. Please,” you whispered, desperation kicking in. “I’m…I’m— “

He nods to himself, a wounded puppy. 

“I have…I have to leave you tomorrow to meet with Alfie Solomons,” he tells you. “Use that time to go out or, or get out of this place. I wouldn’t mind if you went alone as long as you have at least one of Alfie’s men to guard you,” 

You wanted to laugh. He was holding your liberty as hostage; taunting you with it whenever he did something wrong but in reality, no matter how much freedom he grants you, his hand will always be on your neck to keep you from leaving. 

“I’m sorry for threatening you,”

“Not tonight, Simon,”

He nods but it actually angers him for you to refuse him so easily. He has given you anything and everything. Hell, he bought you that summer house in Italy already, but you still couldn’t give him the satisfaction of holding you for the night. Did Tommy Shelby hold you while you slept? Would you have let him?

-

You felt Simon kiss your head before he left. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of all the ways to tell Tommy or at least anyone about Simon’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was sincere when he told you that you can go out today but you were taking that chance. You knew that Arthur wanted you to protect yourself but maybe this could be the last time. Just this once and then, never again. 

You dressed up, the brown coat covering your figure and giving you shelter from the cruelty of the world that Simon built for the two of you. You ordered one of the servants to fetch you one of Solomons’ men that could drive. You needed to talk to Polly or anyone from Birmingham and the only way to do it was through the telephone. It was too dangerous at home; Simon had eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Mrs. Coventry,” the driver greets you, opening the door to let you in. You settle yourself inside, opening your clutch for a deal he couldn’t resist. 

“Other than driving me around, what else do you do?” you asked him. 

“I’m told to obey all of your orders as long as it complies with what Mr. Coventry asks us,” he replied. “Where are we going today, ma’am?” 

“Just…go to the city,” you replied. “Do you think…do you think you could do something for me? I’ll make sure you’re paid and that you won’t be blamed for anything that comes out of it,”

“Ma’am, I am under strict orders of Mr. Solomons to— “

“Five hundred pounds,” you interrupted, you needed him to understand the urgency of the situation. Your nail beds have bled through the night and were red and swollen. “I can give it to you in cash right now. Just tell me if you know where I could reach the Shelbys the fastest,” You sounded like Simon like now, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care anymore. 

“There…there are Blinders right outside a flat in London. Ada Shelby is rumoured to live there,” he says lowly. 

“Take me there. Make sure you’re discreet and make sure we’re not being followed. I’ll make sure that you’re safe,” you promised him. “Just…just go there as fast as you can,” 

It’s hard to be discreet when you’re driving one of the most expensive cars in the world, but he drove you to Ada Shelby’s house anyway. Five hundred pounds was more than what he could ever make working under Alfie Solomons. 

A storm was brewing, and you were at the centre of all of it. 

-

Ada lives in a building in the centre of London. On the way, your driver told you about how Tommy bought the whole building for her. You smiled softly; Tommy was finally realising his dreams, but he was realising them without you. 

You exited the car, covered from head to toe. You made sure no one recognized you; the lush, brown coat and your hat covered your face entirely. You told him to leave you alone and come back in three hours. He zoomed off, afraid to be seen by one of Simon’s men.

Your breathing was uneven and the steps that you took were shaky. You blamed it on the uneven ground. Knocking on the door, you prayed silently for Ada to hear you. The more time you spend outside, the higher the risk of being recognized. You waited with bated breath, but the door soon opened, revealing none other than the man who occupied every corner of your brain. You rushed inside before he could even speak and he let you, locking the door behind him as he followed you into the drawing room. He stands in front of you, removing the coat from your shoulders gently. You were shivering but not from the cold. How were you more beautiful than the last time he saw you?

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” you said over and over again, like you were making sure that he was there. Your resolve was dissolving, and you were near hysterical. He crouches down in front of you to take a good look for your face. He missed it; he missed your touch…he missed you. His fingers on your waist seem to snap you back to reality and you take a deep breath. “Simon killed Johnny. He’s going to—he’s going to kill all of you,”

-

A/N: Thank you very much for making this far! We’re getting closer to the end of this series but please don’t forget to reblog and comment if you liked it / loved it / hated this chapter, etc! I love discussing and replying to your comments and reblogs.

ALSO: A quick character study on Simon is that he is filty rich. The value of money is immaterial to him. In his eyes, money is a way for him to get anything and everything he wants. It’s what makes people kill and die for each other. If it benefits him, then he’d gladly throw money at whatever it is about.

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme

(I’ll be removing people from my taglist on the next chapter if conditions aren’t met! I’m sorry but that’s the rule….)

[injuries-in-dust]

My Amazing Digital Circus theory of the people who became the characters:

All of them work at this C&A company (logo seen in episode 1)

Kinger: Programmer. Worked on the digital circus, perhaps he was even head programmer. He entered the game to do some final debugging. Most likely some tweeks to the AI and hopefully fix the issues with collisions we saw in episode 2. Brought his wife along to see the wonderful game he had been working on.

Ragatha: I feel she worked in HR. She likes everyone to get along, tries to de-escalate situations, and tries does her best not to be a bother to others. However she can bring down discipline when he has to (like tying up Jax in episode 3). I think she was put into the game by force. Someone put a headset onto her, to get her out of the way, after she was going to go to the authorities to stop the company, basically, torturing people trapped with the game.

Jax: I buy into the fan-theory that Jax is a rogue NPC within the game.

But if he isn't, then he's an unpaid intern. He either put the head set on willingly, thinking he could get to play this game for free and before its release to the public, or he was ordered to put it on to be a beta-tester. (why pay for a play test, when you can just get the intern to do it.)

He may not even be fully aware of why he's mean to everyone, and I'm sure he thinks he has reasons; "none of it matters, it's not like the NPC's in the games are real." or perhaps, "It's not like we can die or anything."

Honestly I think it comes down to, after who knows how long of being the office gopher and paying for the bosses coffee order with his own money (no reimbursement), he just started out by getting major catharsis against the other company workers.

But he's enjoying doing that way too much, and the fact that there are no lasting physical consequencesto his actions is leading him down a very slippery slope toward becoming a sociopath, maybe a psychopath.

Gangle: Worked on art and design. We've seen Gangle likes to draw and sketch and that may mean they created concept art, or digital designs for some, or all, of the named NPC's within the game , from Gummygoo, to Martha Mildenhall.

I think she also has depression symbolised by how their main body is a big loop of ribbon (empty inside). They've learned to hide it (or mask it) behind fake smiles and insincere laughter.

I also think art is both their hobby and a kind of their therapy, helping them just pour all their feelings out through their creativity.

They do feel joy at times, especially when it's quiet and no one is putting any demands on her, and just let her do her own thing. Episode 3 is evidence of that, where she was happy to be with the group, not necessarily taking part in their activity but enjoying being there and doing her own thing. Namely, sketching.

Zooble: They're non-binary and has issues with dysmophia, or dysphoria.

The reason they ended up in the game is the same as Jax, it was cheaper to get them to play test than hire a play tester. But I think Zoople is an actual paid employee, not an unpaid intern.

The vibe I get with Zooble is "freshly graduated from college and this is their first job." They're young enough that they're still figuring themselves out, which doesn't always mean young, but it more often found in people under 30. However they have a certain level of maturity to them. They set up Kaufmo's funeral, and spoke at it, despite how uncomforatable they can feel discussing their feelings.

Pomni: Whoever is in charge at this C&A company, Pomni worked alongside them. Maybe a business partner, I think more of a PA.

Their clothes are telling; a Jester. Jesters would work for a monarch and entertain their guests, just as a PA would work for the company boss and would handle people that the boss didn't want to talk to. The privilage of being the PA to the company boss would give Pomni more leeway to talk freely without risk of being punished. Just as a jester had that privilege within the royal court.

I'm trying to hint that Pomni may have been the one to pass down the orders that put Jax and Zooble in the game. I don't know if I'm saying it well enough.

Two lines in episode 3 stuck out to me, after Pomni is in hell.

"How's your wife, Kinger?"

Did Caine program that into the game? Did he get that specific insult ready in case Kinger accompanied Zooble into the scary path of the game?

Or did the evil-souls pull the knowledge our of Pomni's head? Because Pomni observed these events on the outside.

Caine did say that any torture is accidental on his part.

The second line: "I knew it would turn out like this... he just wants to torture me."

Was she talking about Caine? I don't think so. I think she was talking about her boss.

For resons currently unknown he forced her to put on the headset, but she knew what would happen if she did; she would lose most of her memories and be forced to play the games until she went nuts. Would her boss listen? No. Her conclusion, whatever reason he gave to get her into the game was a lie and it was just to torture her.

[mikobeautifulheart]

4 Depression - Nanami

TW: Mentions of death, depression, suicide, starvation, attempted suicide and over dose. ('lill bitta angst)

Nanami sat silently in the empty train cart, head hung low and hands clasped tightly together. Today was another tough overtime mission. He wanted nothing more then to go home and see you, just hold you for hours on end.

The only thing left on his mind was how distant you had become. Last night you had fallen asleep, nothing in the fridge, nothing on the stove. It was like an empty apartment. He was going to talk to you about it but he had to leave early that morning so he resorted to talking to you that night.

The train stops and he walks out into the empty station. It was strange how everything was deserted. An oddly quiet day.

He continued to walk home exhausted and finaly turned the door knob into your apartment.

He breathed a sigh of relief until he noticed you on the dinning room floor, chest shallowly moving.

He rushes over to your side, propping you up on his knee. He gently pushes you hair out of your face before looking at your eyes with worry.

"Y/n what happened? What did you do?" He said

You slowly and shakily put your arm up, pointing to the empty yellow bottle of anti-depressants on the table.

"I want to wake up Kento, this dream is to lonely now." Your hand dropped to the ground causing a thud.

"Y/n, this isn't isn't dream! You need help." He reaches into his pocket to get his phone and call the emergency number.

"I want to die Ken, save me." You whispered as your eyelids got heavier.

"Hello? Hello? Why is no one picking up!?" He frustratedly throws the phone to the ground as you grasp onto his shirt collar.

"Kento I want to see you again." You finally mumble.

"Then you need to live Y/N I'll drive you to the hospital just hold on-"

"no" You whispered, breath slipping out your lips.

"No don't do this y/n, I need you, you can't leave me."

"I'll see you soon. After all i'm sure you've been waiting for me." You said before gasping at a sudden sharpness in your chest.

"Y/N! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?" He said trying to wipe his tears with his shirt sleve.

"Kento you left me. You left me in Shibuya alone. Did you mean it?"

"Y/n what are you talking about, wha-" He looks at his right hand, the skin is red and peeled. Burnt.

He goes to run his hand through his hair, none on the right side. What?

Oh. That's right. The last thing he saw was Yuji, standing there helplessly. He could remember feeling everything at once, not even blinking twice.

"Itadori, tell my wife I'll wait for her and...you got it from here."

Then the sounds of the train going over the rails. It was strange now, he dosen't remember his last mission, how he got on the train, how he left the house this morning.

"Can you- see me right now" he paused and looked down at you.

You weren't responding anymore.

He felt sick to his stomach, what had he done. He buried his face in your neck overwhelmed with...sadness.

"Don't cry anynore Kento, we're finally together again!" You said.

He felt hands gently press on his shoulders urging him to look behind him. But he didn't.

"I-i killed you y/n. Your dead because of me...I'm sorry" He let out a shakey breath.

"Why would you kill yourself because of me? What about every one you leave behind?" He said still holding your corpse.

"You didn't kill me Ken, I was all the time without you. As for everyone else, there's a few letters on the table explaining my death, will and wishes. All I want is to be here with you" you said wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, loke you didn't just kill yourself.

"No."

"No?" You said confused and the sudden change in deminour.

"Yoh don't die here, not yet. Listen to me y/n no matter how lonley you are or how bad you feel you cant do this...not to yourself or anyone." He sighed hugging your body closer to his.

"What are you talking about Ken, whats done is done. I told you at your funeral I'll never love again. My world has ended, this is the happiness I was looking for."

"I love you y/n, now live to the fullest teach those kids something and...don't die yet."

You woke up on the floor again. Tears filling your eyes. God damn it, you were so close.

"I miss you Kento." You slung your arm over your face.

"I miss you to, but until then." He said before walking off on the beach shore sighing in relife.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: This is appart of my 5 stages of greife series, part 4 obvi. Only one more part to go (acceptance with Yuji) and then this will all be over. Thanks for reading and have a good whatever time.

(Edit: If you wanted a happier ending you should have read this fic)

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest (Part 6) - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Parental Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles; Crying; Character Death (Sorry, Ice); Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Nickie finds some direction after Ice's death. Rooster and Cora talk.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Master List

Nickie stared out at the crashing waves behind the Hard Deck, still dressed in his suit that was just a little small on him. It was the reception after Ice’s funeral and Nickie just wanted to be away from it all. It was over. Ice was gone. And Nickie didn’t want to talk about it with people who didn’t know the first thing about him.

He was tired of it. All of it. He just wanted to go home and let his bed swallow him whole.

Staring down at the metal tin that his Aunt Sarah gave him after the funeral, Nickie ran his thumb over the thin metal. The tin used to hold gum based on the stamped logo—though Nickie admittedly had to Google it—and there was something rattling around in there. There was a letter too, burning a hole in his pocket, but Nickie definitely wasn’t ready to read Ice’s last words to him. Not yet. Not for a while.

“Is that seat taken?” a familiar voice asked, causing Nickie to slowly turn around.

Viper stood behind the bench, dressed in a black suit. Although he retired from the Navy some years ago, Viper still resided in Miramar. He still saw Ice and Maverick at least on a yearly basis. And he still had that same knowing look about him every time that he ran into a new generation of Mitchell mess.

Nickie shook his head and gestured to the seat next to him. Viper walked around and slowly lowered himself onto the wooden bench. Leaning back, he folded his hands in his lap and stared out at the crashing waves, causing Nickie to do the same.

Viper was very much a part of Nickie’s life. He wasn’t in it as much as Ice or even Slider was, but Viper and his wife always had a party around the Fourth of July that Nickie and Cora would attend. And Viper picked up a babysitting shift here or there to make sure that Cora could work or go to school to support her and Nickie when he was still very young. There was no way that Viper would let Duke’s granddaughter get stuck in that position.

“Did you know?” Nickie croaked out, causing Viper to turn to him.

“Did I know what?”

“About . . . Ice,” Nickie clarified, earning a solemn sigh from Viper.

“No, I didn’t. From my understanding, the only people who knew were himself, Sarah, and a few souls here and there.” Viper studied Nickie’s expression for a moment before adding, “He wouldn’t have wanted you to worry.”

“I know,” Nickie whispered out, begrudgingly sniffling as he stared at the ground. Wiping another tear away, Nickie turned back to Viper. “How’s my mom?”

“She’s fine,” Viper assured Nickie, nodding towards the Hard Deck. “Slider’s looking after her.”

“That’s good,” Nickie replied, looking back down at the ground. “She always finds a way to blame herself for things that go wrong. Even when it’s not her fault.” Picking his head up to look out at the waves, Nickie let out a shaky breath. “I’m worried about her.”

“She’s a strong woman, Nickie. And she wouldn’t want you worrying about her.”

“I know, but with everything that’s happened this week . . .” Nickie trailed off, straightening up as he slowly turned back to Viper. For his part, Viper waited patiently for Nickie to ask the question that Viper knew he was going to ask. “Did my grandfather tell you?”

“I always knew,” Viper responded honestly, staring down Nickie for a moment. “You look too damn much like him for me to not know.”

“Like . . . Bradley?” Nickie suggested quietly.

“No,” Viper corrected Nickie, shaking his head. Nickie frowned a bit, looking confused for a moment. “Like his dad. Goose. Who he also looks the spitting image of.”

“Oh.” Nickie stared down at the ground again, gently swaying back and forth. “I guess he had some strong genes then.”

“Don’t worry,” Viper continued, leaning back again. “You got the Mitchell eyes.”

“My eyes are brown,” Nickie pointed out, turning back to Viper with a frown.

“I wasn’t talking about the color. I was talking about the look. The one that instantly makes people nervous because they’re waiting for the next thing you do,” Viper quipped, causing Nickie to pause. “I saw that look in your great-grandfather’s eyes some time ago.”

“You mean a century ago?”

“And there it is,” Viper replied without missing a beat.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments and when Viper saw the small smile gradually slipping from Nickie’s face, he turned back to face him. Thinking over his words carefully for a moment, Viper wore a somewhat grim expression.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“Besides telling him to fuck off? No,” Nickie replied bluntly.

“Do you want to?”

“No,” Nickie blurted out without much thought. “He hurt my mom. He hurt my grandfather. Why the hell should I want to be around someone like that?”

“There could be many reasons,” Viper returned, staring out at the waves. “And I have a feeling that all of them have something to do with that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“Like you’ve got something to prove,” Viper stated, turning back to Nickie. “That’s wasn’t there before.”

“I don’t have anything to prove to him.”

“No, you don’t,” Viper agreed, nodding along. “So, don’t go around doing something stupid that you’ll regret because you feel like you have something to prove.” Viper turned back to Nickie with a more serious expression. “Whatever happens with Bradley, you are who you are. He doesn’t change that. No one changes that. You understand me?”

“Yeah,” Nickie replied quietly, causing Viper to pause for a moment.

“Your grandfather did that. Bradley does that. I don’t want you continuing the cycle.” Viper turned and watched the waves for a moment. “They flew like they were competing with a ghost. Trying to impress someone who’s not around to impress. And where does that lead them?” After a beat of silence, Viper turned back to Nickie. “Nowhere good. Nowhere your mom would want you to be.”

“There’s a lot of places that my mom doesn’t want me to be.”

Viper sat there for a moment, simply staring out at the waves. His expression didn’t give anything away and after a brief silence, Nickie picked his head up and turned back to Viper.

“I’m not shocked, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Viper replied, still staring at the waves.

“Are you going to tell my mom?”

“I think that I’m a little old for a tattletale,” Viper responded calmly, leaning back once more. “And besides, if you’re going down that path, there are going to be far more challenging moments in your path than talking to your mom about it.”

“You don’t think that she’ll freak out?”

“I think that she knows more about you than she lets on,” Viper stated honestly. “Mitchells are not exactly known for their subtly.”

“No, I guess not,” Nickie sighed, rubbing his face. After a moment, he straightened up. “And let me guess, you think I should talk with him, don’t you?”

“I think that you should have any conversation that you feel that you need to have so that you get that look out of your eye. Permanently.”

Nickie sighed, dropping his head until his chin practically rested against his chest. Taking a few shallow breaths, Nickie picked his head up and stared out at the waves.

“So, you think I should talk with him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Viper defended himself.

“But you think that.”

“I didn’t say that,” Viper repeated, causing Nickie to sigh again. Slowly moving to stand up, Viper shot Nickie a look when Nickie moved to offer him a helping hand. “I’m old, Cadet, but not that old.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Nickie replied with a small smile.

“And Nickie?” Viper asked as he straightened up.

“Yeah?”

“When it comes to flying, it’s best to trust your instincts and not get caught up in your thoughts.” Viper’s face grew more serious for a moment. “But when it comes to relationships, you should take some time. Alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Nickie replied to Viper with a nod.

Viper gave Nickie’s shoulder a meaningful squeeze before turning back for the Hard Deck. Nickie turned back to the ocean, once again alone with his thoughts. Reaching for his pocket, Nickie pulled out the old tin of gum that Ice passed down to him. After a moment of delay, Nickie finally popped the tin open and pushed back the top.

Reaching into the tin with a shaky hand, Nickie pulled out a set of wings. Ice’s wings. The note placed at the bottom of the tin read a simple explanation in Ice’s loopy handwriting:

My first pair of wings. May you get your own one day, kid.

~~~~~

Cora walked slowly around the Hard Deck, greeting people that she knew from long ago that she hadn’t seen in a long time, and hugging and chatting with those people that she missed over the years. She could feel Slider’s concerned glance every five seconds, but Cora held herself poised and together in front of the crowd. In front of her family.

When she was alone in her room at home, she would deal with her emotions then.

Avoiding the group of aviators gathered in the corner, Cora walked over to the window to look out at where Nickie was sitting on the bench. Viper was standing now and appeared to be heading inside, leaving Nickie alone again. Cora thought about going out there, though she knew that Nickie was getting overwhelmed with the day.

Ice was practically Nickie’s idol growing up and now he was gone. Nickie needed time to process it. So, she would give him some space. But he was still her baby and she was still going to keep a close eye on him during this time.

Rooster, from his spot in the corner that Cora was avoiding, stared after Cora as she stood at the window. He followed her gaze and spotted Nickie sitting out on the bench, staring down at his hands. Phoenix, who was sitting beside Rooster, glanced out the window too before turning forward and reaching for her beer.

“Why does Mav’s grandson look like your twin?” Phoenix asked quietly, not looking to cause a scene. “And before you answer, do I need to be drunk to hear this?”

“It’s a long story,” Rooster replied, turning back to look at Cora.

“And the tall guy over by Mav who keeps glaring daggers at you?” Phoenix added on.

“That would be Slider,” Rooster explained, not even having to look over at him. “He used to fly with Mav and Ice and . . . my dad for a bit.”

Phoenix nodded slowly, reaching for her beer again. Taking a slow sip, she turned back to Rooster, who was still staring at Cora, looking like he was itching to get up and talk to her.

“Did you fuck up?”

“Massively,” Rooster replied, causing Phoenix to nod again.

“Well, if you want to fix it, you have about a week to do it. Probably less,” Phoenix reminded Rooster. Sharing a look with Bob, who heard their whole conversation, but would be sworn to secrecy, Phoenix got up from the table. “We’ll give you some space.”

Phoenix and Bob walked off, chatting between themselves as they made their way over to where some of the other Daggers were sitting. Rooster sat alone for a moment, lost in his thoughts, before he slowly stood up from his seat. Holding his dress cap in his hand, Rooster made his way over to the window where Cora was still standing, watching Nickie out on the bench.

If she felt his presence or noticed him walking over, she did not acknowledge him. She just kept her gaze focused on Nickie.

“Cora?” he gently called with his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Yes, Bradley?” she answered, not moving her gaze from her son.

“Can . . . are you alright?” Bradley questioned, earning a long exhale from Cora.

“I can take care of myself, Bradley. Don’t worry about me.”

“And . . . Nickie?”

“I am more than capable of taking care of my son,” Cora practically hissed, turning back to Bradley with a sharp, defensive look in her eye.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bradley replied, bowing his shoulders a bit under the weight of Cora’s glare. “I just . . . can we talk? Please?”

Cora glared up at him and for a moment, Bradley wondered if she was going to reel around and smack him straight across the face. She certainly looked like she wanted to do that. But eventually, she broke the eye contact and looked back out at the bench, where Nickie was sitting alone.

“Fine,” she breathed out, turning for the door.

They walked outside of the Hard Deck, well aware of the number of eyes trained on them. Cora quietly asked Penny to keep a close eye on Nickie while she was gone, before leading Bradley down the boardwalk and away from prying ears and invading eyes. Cora didn’t say anything. She just simply wrapped her arms around herself and kept walking forward with Bradley trailing behind her.

Once they were towards the end of the parking lot and closer to the beach, she turned around sharply, the small heel of her shoe clicking on the worn wood of the boardwalk. Her pose was defensive and her gaze was hardened, like she was gearing up for a fight.

“What do you have to say?” Cora demanded, causing Bradley to look at the ground for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he stated, earning a sharper glare from Cora.

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific there,” Cora responded sharply.

“For the whole . . . incident. At your house,” Bradley added, lamely in Cora’s opinion.

“The one that you caused?” Cora suggested harshly. When Bradley didn’t respond, Cora let the maternal anger that she felt ever since she watched Nickie’s face crumble that night just come bursting out. “Why the hell did you decide to show up after seventeen years and traumatize the kid that you already fucked up by never showing up in the first place!?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“—I don’t give a shit!” Cora interjected, cutting off Bradley before she could hear any more of his ridiculous excuses. Because then she might have actually throttled him. “Do you have any idea of what it feels like to be rejected by one of your parents? To be tossed aside!?”

“I never—”

“—You have no idea what it feels like to have one of your parents just decide that they don’t give enough of a shit about you to stick around! You have no idea what it’s like going through your whole fucking life wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone to stick around, blaming yourself for other people’s actions!”

Bradley knew that Cora wasn’t talking about Nickie so much anymore, but rather herself. It was hard to forget the conversations that a much younger Cora had with Carole and with Maverick about her birth mother. And he remembered holding her as she cried when she found out that the woman who gave birth to her went on to get married and have three kids with another man.

And, based off the limited interactions that he saw between Nickie and Cora, she didn’t leave much room for doubt about the lengths she would go through to protect Nickie.

“You have no idea what it feels like to just think you’re a giant asshole because hey, one of your parents stuck around and loved you and cared for you and you have plenty of people in your life who stepped up to be there for you, but all you can think about is the one person who was always supposed to be there who didn’t bother to give a single shit about you in the first place! You don’t Bradley!”

Cora pointed a finger straight at Bradley’s face and he quickly noticed how hard it was shaking.

“You decided to walk away and never look back! You decided to leave! That wasn’t my choice, that wasn’t my dad’s choice, that wasn’t Nickie’s choice, that was yours. So, the only person that you have to blame for this is yourself, Bradley!”

“I know!” Bradley raised his voice, causing Cora’s glare to intensify. But the tension slowly seeped out of Bradley and his shoulders sunk a bit more as he dropped his head. After a few moments of silence, Bradley picked his head up. “I know, Cora.”

“Great,” Cora replied, somewhat sarcastically. “What are you going to do about it then?”

“I changed my will,” Bradley stated, causing Cora to stare at him incredulously. “Look, we both know what can happen in this line of work and I still have all of the money that my mom and grandparents left me and—”

“—You think I want your money?” Cora practically hissed, sending him a look that instantly made him feel stupid. “What? You think that the only reason I wanted you around was for money? You think that low of me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bradley defended himself. “But I’m assuming that Nickie’s going to go off to college in a few years and I can help.”

“I don’t want your money, especially if you think that all of this bullshit is just going to go away in an instant because you decided to pay for something for the first time in seventeen years,” Cora replied, waving her hands angrily around.

“I know that it won’t,” Bradley assured her, causing Cora to fold her arms across her chest again. “I know, Cora.” Bradley glanced back at the Hard Deck and in the direction of the beach, where Nickie was still sitting out on the bench. “But I . . . I want to make it right. With you. And with Nickie. And I know that there’s not a lot of time left, but I want to try.”

“Well, in addition to a lot of other traits that he inherited from you, he got your ability to hold a grudge,” Cora somewhat snapped, causing Rooster to wince and look away for a moment. “And frankly, he’s been through enough today. This century, actually.”

“I understand,” Rooster replied softly. He looked down at the ground for a moment before picking his head up again. “Do you think that . . . he would want to talk to me?”

“I don’t know,” Cora stated quietly, honestly not sure about the answer herself. “That’s a question for him, not me. But I’m not going to force him to have a relationship with anyone. Dad or not. He’s not a baby anymore. He’s more than old enough to make those kinds of decisions for himself.”

Rooster nodded slowly, staring down at the ground again. Sniffling, he turned back to Cora, who stared evenly back at him. She had cried all of the tears that she had to cry over this. And now, she just wanted the pain, the suffering, the angst to be over. She wanted it over for herself. And she definitely wanted it to disappear for her son.

“Why did you name him after my dad?” Rooster asked Cora, causing her to pause.

“It wasn’t a tough decision,” Cora replied after a few moments. “I mean, I couldn’t count the number of times that you said you wanted to name a son after your dad. And with all of the stories that my dad and your mom told us . . . I wanted Nickie to have those same kinds of traits. Kind and caring. Smart. Loyal. Someone that people trusted and knew that they could turn to when they needed help.” Cora looked down for a moment. “A good, honest man. That’s who I wanted my son to be.”

“I’m sorry, Cora,” Bradley repeated again, causing Cora to breathe in and out to steady herself. “I’m so sorry.”

“All you had to do was come back,” Cora whispered out, her voice breaking with emotion. “That’s all I wanted you to do.”

She tried to compose herself when the sound of footsteps caused her and Bradley to turn. Slider approached them slowly, clearly not trying to sneak up on them. Cora took a step away from Bradley to face Slider, discreetly wiping her tears away.

“Nickie’s looking for you,” Slider stated, causing Cora to nod.

She spared one last glance for Bradley before walking back towards the Hard Deck. Bradley watched her go before turning to meet Slider’s sharp glare. Spinning his cap in hand, Rooster straightened up a bit as he met Slider’s stare.

“Slider,” Rooster greeted him stiffly.

“Rooster,” Slider returned, with quite a bit of sass behind it.

With one last harsh look, Slider turned and walked back the way that he came, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts.

Cora, meanwhile, stepped back into the Hard Deck to grab Nickie and Maverick and head home. Walking through the dwindling crowd, she paused when she spotted something pinned to Nickie’s suit jacket that wasn’t there before.

Wings. A set of wings.

Nickie stared at his mom, more than a bit nervous about how she would react to his choice. His grandfather hadn’t really shown any emotion since they got the news that Ice passed, so Nickie wasn’t expecting a reaction out of Maverick today. But Cora? Nickie was really worried about her reaction.

Cora slowly walked over to where Nickie was standing beside Penny and Sarah. She didn’t say anything at first, staring at the wings on his lapel. And then she simply pulling Nickie into her arms and gave him a squeeze.

“Did you want to go home?” she asked quietly, holding her son for a moment.

“Yeah,” Nickie replied, just as quietly.

“Then let’s go home.”

Tags: @xoxabs88xox @eternallyvenus @mygyn @kmc1989 @thegoddessc @midnightmagpiemama @badasspizzalover @praline357 @oatmealisweird @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @abaker74 @avengersfan25 @yogabigooby @daisydaisygoose @sgt-barnesveins @angelbabyange @percysaidnever @artemissunn @indiestrashfire @kidd3ath @luv4kani @lt-spork

(If I forgot you in the tags, don’t be afraid to ask again because I’m definitely scatterbrained when it comes to that but please have a reference to your age somewhere on your blog (bio, pinned post) or just message me!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

[aphroditesmoon]

first of all thank you for feeding us with jace x reader contents u are the best!! 🥺❤️ and my oneshot request is a story where jace and targ! reader are pining over each other and they are really close and sweet to each other but neither of them rlly wants to confess their feelings to the other bc they are scared. that's until jace gets jealous of the reader and aemond

delicate

jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: The decapitation scene in EP8

note: thank you for requesting my lovely<3 i don't think this is an accurate writing of what you requested but I admit I struggled trying to decide who's side of family the reader is from since you wanted targ!reader, so this is what I came up with, without it being too incestuous yk 💀

°°°

"sometimes when I look into your eyes,

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time"

°°°

Despite being Rhaenyra's sister, you grew up with her sons instead, being the last daughter of King Viserys and his late wife the queen Aemma, You were closer to your sister's side of family than Alicent's, though you carry tender feelings for her children regardless.

The closeness of you and the Velaryon boys were cut short as they move to Dragonstone, leaving you with your stepfamily for 6 years.

Though today you will be reunited with them, you were excited to meet your sister, the last time you both met, it wasn't exactly the most peaceful of event, with the funeral of your cousin Laena, and the unfortunate incident between the Velaryon boys and Alicent's son Aemond who had his eye taken by Lucerys.

Hopefully now that everyone's grown, the circumstances will be less troubling.

You were the first to greet your sister and your uncle Daemon, with your stepmother busy still. "What in gods name has this place transformed to?" Daemon asks frowning at the deco of the palace.

You smile amused at his greeting. "I miss you too uncle, and I think you already have the answer to your question." You embrace the two of them in a warm manner and your sister squeezed your hand before asking of the queen and king.

"Alicent is busy at the moment, and I reckon you both can already guess that father's illness has only gotten worse since last you saw him, he can barely leave bed now." You statement has birth new worries to your sister as her face seem to show.

"Take us to him." the prince requests and you gladly obliged, leading them and their young children to your father's chambers.

"Jacaerys and Lucerys wastes no time to go tour the palace, they're probably somewhere in the courtyard if you wish to greet them." Rhaenyra tells you this, as she knows how fond you are of your nephews.

You smile brightly at her. "Then I will go see them, if you are fine being left alone, that is?" She offers you a smile and shakes her head. "Of course, you go ahead my dear".

With her permission you merrily made your way to meet your nephews.

You spotted the two boys in the house velaryon coloured cloaks watching Aemond's training with Ser Criston and went to stand next to them.

"Amazing fighter, isn't he?" You spoke, startling the two.

Jace's suprised expression turned into a pleased one as you three took a few steps back to greet eachother.

"[name]! I didn't even recognize you" It was Lucerys' who spoke first and you took him in your arms in a bear hug, then doing the same with Jacaerys, who's arms held you tighter compared to his brother's.

"Me? I wouldn't even know it was the two of you if it weren't for your cloaks!" The lot of you chuckled at that knowing it's true, you all have changed very much this past 6 years.

"Say, I don't think we've gotten our welcome tour of this place from you princess, bit disrespectful to neglect your guests isn't it?" You hear the teasing in Jacaerys tone and through his silly boyish grin that you return easily.

"A tour doesn't seem necessary, as I'm seeing you both remember your way here quite well, but if you insist, I wouldn't deny you at all."

He raises his eyebrows and waves his hand for you to lead the way: "Well then, let's get started."

You giggled and link your arms with him, walking out the courtyard together, resuming in your jests and catching up, completely ignoring Lucerys trying to follow up the both of you, annoyed at being ignored.

The tour was an obvious excuse for the two of you to shamelessly converse with eachother without starting rumours or gossips, though by the way the two of you have been leaning by the library door laughing and chatting with eachother instead of any touring, it seems that people would easily see through you anyways.

Lucerys tried his best to include himself into the conversation, though his brother was consistent to change the topic back to him, he fastly got the message and excuse himself to explore the library books.

"You know, I was scared you wouldn't care much about us coming back, it has been a long time since we met, I wasn't sure if you'd actually miss us me."

Your eyes soften at his words and you inch closer before taking his hand into yours and squeezing it. "Well, the letters I've been sending you this past years should be proof enough that I do miss you, isn't it?," You ask smiling at him.

A light blush appears at his cheeks and he laughs nervously nodding. "Yeah- I am sorry I don't respond as much though, I'm always occupied in dragonstone, but you're always in my mind if not my letters."

His respond warmed your heart, it wasn't a secret to anyone who paid attention that you were fond of the older Velaryon, He's always been kind and caring with you since you were children, always making sure you felt Included and ready to defend you at any glimpse of danger or disrespect. And sometimes, you could swear he looks at you like he might loves you too.

You found yourself intensely staring in his eyes, unable to forms any words and just smiling at him, hands still holding eachother's.

The tension was cut by Luc's footstep as you both pull your hands away and look towards the boy.

"It's quite late I've noticed, Uncle Vaemond has arrived which means the petition will start any minute now, we should go settle ourselves first Jace." He suggests smartly.

Your eyes widen as you remember why they're here. "Oh my, you're right, I've been taking so much of your time, come on, I'll show you to your chambers."

They both assured you no time was wasted and thanked you for the welcome before entering their rooms for a change of clothes.

°°°°

The petition was... quite an event, if you say so yourself. Both parties present a truthful and valid argument, not that it mattered as the topic of heir of driftmark was quickly pointed back to Lord Corlys' own wishes by your father, who made a sudden appearance, taking over the discussion from Otto.

What was more unexpected than your father limping to the throne to defend his grandson, was Vaemond's shameless accusation of Jace and Luc's illegitimacy, and calling your sister a whore on top of that.

It wasn't a surprise when the prince consort Daemon slashed through his head for that insult, knowing how much he loves to solve a problem as fast as he can. The sight of Vaemond's tongue sticking out of his decapitated head though, was not pleasant.

You were quickly ushered out with your stepsiblings by Alicent as the your father was helped back to his chambers, attacked by his illness at a sudden.

As you leave the throne room to walk to your room, you were met instead with Jace, waiting outside for you.

"I-um, I thought I'd walk you back, to your chambers?" he states, sounding more like a question.

You smile gratefully at his kind gesture and take his arm to link them with yours and thank him for his offer.

"Oh don't thank me, I just enjoy your company, really." If it were anyone else, you'd assume he was flirting with you.

But regardless of your delusion, you accept the tease and shoves him playfully.

"Oh do you now?"

"Mmhm." His smile was contagious and you don't think you can stop yourself from giggling like a 5 year old at everything he says.

As you finally reach your room, you take a deep breath, trying to hide your disappointment of having to part with him, even for a while.

"Well, you've come a long way today, I'm sure you're tired, rest well won't you?" You spoke squeezing his shoulder.

He smiles softly while nodding before bidding you good evening and walking back to his chambers, you notice how his smiles doesn't leave him as he leaves.

°°°

It's been a while since you've had a family dinner to be honest, but by the request of you father, here was all of you seated together.

You were placed I'm between Aegon and Aemond who was sitting at the edge.

What started off an awkward night, slowly absolved into a festive dinner as everyone tried their best to get along, to please the king.

You found yourself laughing at Aemond's quiet sarcastic jokes about Vaemond's beheading, trying not to find the traumatizing memory hilarious, but the both of you couldn't stop your amusement thinking of your stepmother's mention of him in her prayer.

The joking was cut off by Jacaerys ' sudden slamming of the table as he stands up, startling everyone.

silence spread through the room and you look at him worriedly.

As he waves a hand at his parents to not worry them, his eyes moves from the table to your face, taking in your frowning confused expression.

"Um- I, would uh, also like to give a toast" He clears his throat and states with an awkward smile.

"To, my uncle's, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond, though we aren't so close now, I have fond memories of our shared youth, and as men, I hope we could get along."

Aegon purses his lips and answered with a "uh to you too" as Aemond just stares at him with an undecipherable look.

You notice how Jace's own eyes was connected to his too, the both of them having some sort of staring contest.

It seems Jace lost it first (despite Aemond having a one eye disadvantage) as he blinks and looks at you seated next to Aemond.

You saw his gaze softening and his smiles widens as he raise his cup again; "And to my lovely aunt, princess [aunt], you have always been a kind friend and a great company, I hope we'll have more time to spend with eachother."

You nod at him with a smile. "Thank you Jacaerys, for your generous words, I shall hope for the same."

Seemingly satisfied with his speech he sits back down and your sister Rhaenyra release a slow relieved sigh. You could understand why, for a second there, Jace's sudden gesture made you think a fight was about to ensue too, though you were grateful he remained mature as he is.

Viserys' had requested music to be put on and you were caught off guard with Jacaerys standing up and offering a dance to you, you accepted nonetheless.

It was honestly a dream how much of his attention you've had a hold of this whole day, you wished it could be like this all the time, gods only knows the effect he has on you and your heart when he does these little things that makes your heart beats quicker and paint your cheeks a faint pink.

You both try your best to stifle smiles and giggliness as he spins you around, keeping you close.

The music stops when Aemond suddenly dose from his own seat. The sudden loud creak of his chair making you flinch and halt your movements.

The both of you stopped your dancing to glance at him.

Aemond gives you a reassuring smile before smirking at Jace and then Lucerys, who was seated on the opposite of him. "A final tribute."

"To my nephews, Jace, Luc, and Joffrey." He starts calmly.

"May you always remain handsome, wise-,"

Deep breaths and sighs was heard around the room as you finally realize what was going on.

Your breath hitches as he finishes the line. "-strong."

Immediately, Jace interjects, contained anger detected in his tone; "I dare you to say that again."

"Why? t'was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong? What about you sister?" His eye shot towards yours that were practically begging him to stop.

"- I'm sure you'll agree he is quite a strong-"

He didn't get to finish the sentence as Jacaerys' fist connects with his face.

Instantly, Aemond retaliates, shoving him to the floor.

You curse out loud rushing to help Jace and you could feel him struggle againts you, wanting to attack Aemond again as you force him up and pulled him away from your stepbrother.

Thankfully, the fights ceased as Daemon involves himself in the middle of the two and your sister demands her children to leave to their rooms.

Jacaerys shrugs you off almost too roughly and leaves without looking back with his brother and cousins and you feel your heart crack at the little but hurtful gesture of it.

When your gaze connects with Aemond's, you scoff at his audacity to look unbothered with his stupid smirk and shook your head, you can't stand to look at him so arrogant right now and left the dining room too.

Quickly, you walk yourself to Jacaerys' chambers and took a sighed tiredly before you knock on the door.

"I don't need your comfort or whatever Luc, leave" his distorted voice was heard from outsiders.

"it's not Luc, it's me, [name]" You tell him, feeling a bit stupid for stating your name as if he wouldn't recognize your voice.

It was quiet for a few seconds before the door opens slightly, revealing the owner of the room.

He has seemed to calmed down from earlier chaos as he looks at you more kindly than he did anyone a few minutes ago.

"[name]." he breathes out.

"Apologies, I thought you were my brother, do you need anything?" You shook your head.

"No, I came here to make sure you're alright, may I come in?" He blinks before nodding slowly and standing to the side to let you enter.

You walk straight to sit by the edge of his bed and he moves to place himself next to you.

"I'm sorry about my brother, I would have thought that after 6 years, he'd give up his immature need to try and humiliate your family, but I guess I was wrong."

He frowns and shakes his head before raising his hand to cup your face. "Why would you apologize for his disrespectful manners?"

"Well, he is my brother, and he definitely won't be doing any apologizing."

The both of you let a short chuckle before the tension slips back in between you.

"Mm, maybe, but you are not responsible for his behavior, he is what he chooses to be, and that's beyond your control, so never apologize for his behalf."

You could only nod obligingly with the way he's intensely staring at you eye.

Before you can get any word out, he beats you to it first. "Do you love him?"

The question took you by suprise and you furrow your eyebrows and gives him a short "heh?"

"I- I saw how familiar you are with eachother tonight, and I know you both grew up together, but you must be blind to not see how he looked at you. Everyone could tell that his stupid toast was made out of jealousy because you danced with me."

All this new information and theories made your head swirl, You love Aemond as he is your brother, and never once did it occur to you his affections might be more than a sibling like one.

You looked at him dazed and confused, not knowing how to react with the randomess of the conversation.

"I- I admit, I've never seen him more than a family, and I have never noticed that there was such possibility that he did." You confess to him, avoiding his eyes, feeling a little embarrassed with his assessment.

"And have you noticed my feelings for you?" Your head snaps to look at him and your shocked face answers his question.

You open your mouth but no words leave you as you were still struck by his forwardness.

No words was needed though, as he closes the gap between you two wish his lips warm against yours.

You sigh againts the kiss as his hands cradles your face as yours wrap around his neck.

He pulls you to sit on his lap and when one arm moves around your waist to pull you closer and you gasped when he bites your lip, giving him an entrance to slide his tongue in.

He groans as your tongue meets, gripping your waist and angling his head better.

After what felt like hours of wet salivas mixing and your hands grasping and pawing at eachother, you were the first to pull away needing to catch your breath.

He leans his forehead againts yours as your hot breaths fans eachother.

A slow smile spread on your face and he beams at you like a child towards a rising sun. His thumb moving to rub your bottom lipz the feel of his skin againts yours making your eyes flutter.

You open your eyes to him staring a you with such gentleness you couldn't help but kiss him again, easily reciprocated by him, licking and sucking your bottom lip.

He sighs againts your lips when you pause.

"It feels like you are made for me sometimes" He murmurs againts your lip.

You let out a low breathy chuckle pulling away lightly. "Oh I believe I am made just for you, my prince."

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 18

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff, funeral

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's Note: Gonna be honest with y'all, I wrote this chapter this morning before lunch, because the last two weeks have been hectic at work and I haven't had any time. There was an important executive meeting Wednesday and everyone of importance was there, and then there was me 😅 So, yeah, sorry if this isn't up to my usual standards. I'll probably edit it at some point. As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @/beating-a-dead-plot

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Wolffe strolled down the streets of Coruscant and followed the coordinates Fox gave him for the nanny service. He was hesitant about hiring a stranger to watch his daughter, but he was more hesitant about leaving her in the sole care of the Jedi in the Temple. Wolffe trusted Plo with his life and his men, but Plo wasn't going to be the one watching Cara, and that was the unsettling part. On the other hand, Fox did mention that he vetted the nanny service, so it seemed safe enough. But it still rolled around in the back of his head like a marble on glass.

Wolffe tilted his head back towards the sky and groaned. He enjoyed life better when he didn't have to make these types of decisions. He was bred to think more outside the box than the average clone, but that was when it came to battle strategies, not babysitting. He knew about war and how to fight one, so he knew how to make those proper decisions, even in a split second on the battlefield under heavy fire, he could make clear and concise choices. However, parenting didn't come with a manual, simulations, target practice, or anything else useful.

Wolffe's comm beeped when he reached the coordinates. He must have been deep in his thoughts to have kept walking and ended up at the location he was headed to without realizing it. Auto-pilot is what everyone called it, but Wolffe called it a death trap. Distractions like that could get him and his entire battalion killed and then Cara would have no one–she'd be a real orphan. The thought made Wolffe shiver. He was going on a simple rescue mission and he'd be right back when it was done. There was no need for him to think those thoughts.

Wolffe looked up at the bright pink and blue neon sign with lines that swirled into odd shapes reminiscent of Galactic Basic letters. He raised an eyebrow at the strange sign and tilted his head to the side to try and read it. Why couldn't people just make signs with normal letters? He squinted in a final effort to read the words, but he shook his head and walked through the door without knowing what it said. If he was at the wrong establishment, he'd turn around, but something about the decor in the lobby told him he was in the right place.

It was a cross between, what Wolffe would consider, a child's play area and a sterile medcenter examination room. It looked and smelled clean, like an exam room, but their decorations were vibrant and colorful, and there were children's toys everywhere. It looked like a controlled clutter and it made Wolffe feel uncomfortable–anxious. He grew up in a sterilized environment with soft white lights, where the only color he ever saw was the dull blue or red of the cadet uniforms. The amount of color in this room made him dizzy.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

Wolffe snapped out of his daze and approached the counter. The receptionist seemed nice enough–middle-aged, with graying hair, and glasses that reflected the light from the screen she sat behind. "I need a…" he paused. The words felt foreign in his mouth and almost disgusting to say, and he didn't know why. "...a nanny."

The woman grabbed one of the data-pads out of the docking port and handed it to Wolffe. "Start with completing this form."

Wolffe took the data-pad and stared at the woman, waiting for more direction. "Where…"

"You can sit in one of the chairs over there," she said. She stood up and pointed to a row of chairs that lined the far wall.

Wolffe nodded and sat in one of the chairs. It was made of plastic and squeaked under his weight. Even the chairs made Wolffe uncomfortable. Everything about this place made him feel itchy and prickly under his skin. He rapidly tapped his foot on the floor and periodically reminded himself to stop. The clones didn't have nervous tics. Well, at least, clone commanders didn't have nervous tics, and he wasn't sure when he possibly picked one up, but he could guess it had something to do with Cara. He wouldn't even be in this room if it wasn't for her.

Wolffe took a deep breath and started filling out the form. It started with simple information. How many kids–easy, one. Name–also easy, Cara. Date of birth–oh, no. He knew the day Cara was born, didn't he? Wolffe tapped his foot harder. What kind of father was he if he couldn't remember his only child's birthday? Maker, he wished his wife could help him. Then a light bulb turned on. The recording of Cara's birthday had a time stamp. Luckily, he had a good memory, and he input the date and month, and with a little math, he added the year.

Wolffe continued to work on the form. Much of it was simple, but there were more difficult parts, mostly to do with him. It asked for his last name–he didn't have one. It asked for his identification number–he didn't have one. It asked for his occupation–what was he supposed to put? War? Clone? Commander? He decided to leave it blank and move on. It was a dumb question anyway. This was about Cara, not him. Everything else about Cara and his wife was easy to input. It did ask for allergy and pediatrician information, but he didn't have any of that.

Once he completed the form to his best abilities, he brought the data-pad back to the woman at the counter. She took it and started importing the data into their system while Wolffe stood and waited for her to finish.

The woman frowned. "This form is incomplete."

Maker, he just wanted to get out of here. "I put in what I could."

"Your last name?" she asked. She stared at him like he was stupid or something.

"I don't have one," he said. "I'm a clone."

"Hm," she huffed with surprise. "I didn't know clones could have children."

Wolffe huffed. "We're not exactly sterile."

The woman ignored the comment. "I'll just put 'clone' as your last name. It won't let me submit the form without it."

Wolffe sighed. "Whatever works."

"And your daughter is…" she began. "Cara Dalott?" She paused, looking confused. "Wait, as in the Dalott's? The aristocratic Dalott family on the upper level? That Dalott?"

Wolffe gritted his teeth. "Yes, that Dalott."

"I didn't know the Dalott's had a granddaughter," she said while scanning through the rest of the information.

Now, he was getting annoyed. "It wasn't advertised."

"Such a shame about their daughter, Maria, though," she said, not looking up from her screen. "She had so much potential. What a waste."

"Please," Wolffe said. "Don't talk to me about my dead wife."

The woman peered up at him from behind her glasses, then went back to looking at her screen. "There's still some mis–"

Wolffe flattened his palms against the counter and took a deep breath. "Listen, all I need is for someone to live in the Jedi Temple and take care of my daughter while I'm halfway across the galaxy fighting a war! Can you help me or not?"

The woman sighed and placed the data-pad down. "Mr. Wolffe, do you need a live-in, full-time, or part-time nanny?"

"Live-in," he said.

"Species preference?"

"Human."

"Gender preference?"

"Female."

"Age preference?"

"Don't care."

"And when do you need the nanny?"

"Tomorrow, before sunset."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You just want everything, don't you?"

"Do you have someone or not?" he asked.

The woman pulled out her comm. "I might have one that fits your needs. I'll send her a message and see if she's available to start tomorrow, but no guarantees."

"Thank you," he said. "How much?"

"How long do you need her for?" she asked.

Wolffe shrugged. He could try to guess, but it wouldn't be accurate. "Maybe two or three months?"

"Rates for live-in nannies are 2,500 credits a month," she said. "You want to pay for two or three?"

Wolffe's jaw dropped. Where was he going to get that many credits before tomorrow? This was way more expensive than he thought it was going to be. He hadn't counted, but he probably only had about 500 credits to his name. He could ask around the battalion, but credits were sparse among the clones and to ask his men to fund a nanny for his daughter sounded dumb. He'd have to find another way–some way. Once deployed, he could scavenge up more credits for the next time he needed the nanny. He'd never drink again, but it was a small price.

"Two months, and if I'm gone longer, I'll have it transferred," Wolffe said.

"Perfect," she said, then gave the data-pad back to Wolffe with a stylus. "Sign at the bottom."

Wolffe signed the agreement and gave the data-pad and stylus back to the woman.

The woman's comm dinged and she read the message. "Good news, Mr. Wolffe. I have your nanny. She'll be here tomorrow morning. Your payment is due then."

"Thank you," Wolffe said, and he turned to leave. Now he only had one thing to focus on, where he was going to get 5,000 credits before the morning.

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[gingermintpepper]

I spent something like six and a half hours in the hospital today so day 6 of my challenge is being further postponed but, in the lieu of not doing any drawing, I did end up rereading Ovid's Metamorphoses in between waiting and I just wanted to offer some of my favourite underrated bits.

Cadmus and Harmonia's twin transformations into snakes is so gentle? Cadmus goes first, transformed mid plea for his wife to caress him one last time before his face is completely covered in scales, then he rests gently between her boobs and wraps around her neck and shoulders like a big snake gorget. Harmonia follows him shortly and the two snakes intertwine with each other before gently slithering off into the bushes and I love that actually mwah mwah mwah (I also appreciate the sweet irony of Cadmus who slew a snake for his glory becoming a snake, toothless and gentle in the last of his days)

Everything about Perseus was hilarious. Like, I'm sorry - I've never done a lot of reading into Perseus but I did always remember the banquet massacre and the Andromeda rescuing and like, bro I know it's not meant to be funny but Perseus is funny. I think it's his politeness honestly? He goes up to Atlas and is like "hello kind sir, may I please stay a night in your lands? I've travelled an awful long way and I am weary and hungry. If you only accept noble guests, rest assured, I am of noblest birth and have completed the noblest of deeds. 🥺" and Atlas takes one look at him, has a That's So Raven vision about the one time Themis gave him a prophecy about a son of Jove stealing his apples and then told Perseus to kick rocks. So Perseus, like the well adjusted and noble individual that he is, turns Atlas into a mountain with Medusa's head. This is how a great many of Perseus' stories unfold. It is actually hysterical.

I am going to give a special shoutout to Athis and Lycabas who were two young lovers in attendance at Perseus and Andromeda's blood wedding. Athis died first - a skilled archer who never got to shoot and was burnt and bludgeoned across the face with a wedding brazier. When Lycabas saw that his dear friend's beauty was ruined, he picked up the fight against Perseus himself in Athis' name and was slashed to strips by Perseus' sword. Lycabas managed to drag himself over to Athis in his last moments and died beside him, so I thought that was a particularly touching bit of beauty in the otherwise extremely tragic blood wedding.

No one can ever make me feel bad for Niobe. In a lot of the Greek accounts I've read and heard, because they tend to be much shorter or references in a wider narrative, it's hard to really grasp how insanely disrespectful she was to Leto (not that her boasting she should be the goddess of motherhood to the actual goddess of motherhood isn't worthy of death and destruction enough) but Ovid really did go the extra mile to dig it home how far down her throat this lady put her foot because even at her sons' seven way funeral she did not stop boasting about how she was still glorious. I did find it interesting that the seemingly innocuous detail of Apollo killing off the boys first and then Artemis killing the girls was kept cross-culturally, I assume it's because boys were more auspicious than girls in both cultures.

The detail of Athena bonking Arachne constantly with a wooden box and her being transformed into a spider because she begged to not be bonked to death. Also very interestingly, in Ovid's account, it's not a clear victory for Athena against Arachne - she gets flustered at the depictions of her relatives' affairs and rips the tapestry up - the judges didn't actually get a chance to opine. This is in contrast to the contest the Muses sang about where their representative Calliope unilaterally won against the daughters of Pierus.

The account of Apollo and Marsyas was much shorter than I remember it being. I recall it being touted as one of the more vicious and visceral tales in Metamorphoses' collection but it included neither the details of Marsyas' contest against Apollo, nor Apollo's feelings (or even any dialogue from him!) throughout his peeling of Marsyas' skin. Instead it is wholly focused on Marsyas - on describing the physical gore of his exposed veins and contracting muscles and the grief of the rustic crowd as they mourned his loss - which is curious indeed since the entire theme of the poems of Book 6 is divine punishment and it is otherwise filled with rather full accounts of these contests and insults.

Byblis and Caunus made me want to reread Euripedes' Hippolytus for the twelve thousandth time. Caunus made the right call of course but I also very much hoped he would have a huge big speech about incest being bad instead of just smacking the messenger.

And lastly, for now, Jove's speech as Hercules lay burning atop his death pyre where he addresses the host of his gods and goes "Man, wasn't Hercules a great guy? Look, there goes all his mortal attributes burning away in the fire, now he is all my son and surely we are all in agreement that any divine son of mine deserves a place on Olympus :)" was very endearing. I always feel quite bad for Deianira because she truly didn't mean any harm by her gift and I've always wished for an account of Heracles/Hercules' death from her perspective. There could scarcely be a thing more awful, especially given how long and drawn out and incredibly painful Hercules' death was.

Lowkey, I want to take a day and compare Ovid and Euripedes' Medeas. They're both very different women and they both handle their situations very differently. Partially for my own vindication - I adore Medea and Jason equally and since popular fiction cannot speak about Medea without flattening her or making Jason completely monstrous, this is just one of those things I'll have to do myself sometime.

[peachymilkandcream]

My Husband, My Monster|Part 11|William Afton x Wife!Reader (Finale)

(A/N: So this is the last chapter of the series! Like I said before it was going to be shorter since I have a specific mind in how I want to end it. However, the epilogue is actually Scrapped (Part 2 As well) which can be read on my blog. Also I know this chapter is short but that's just how I wanted to end it. Thank you for all the support and I really appreciate everything you guys have done! Who knows I might make some oneshots or headcanons as the next movie comes out but still feel free to request some if you'd like.)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

================================================

William had been studying tirelessly, trying to determine why it was that these creatures seemed so haunted. His wife didn't even see him for days at a time since he spent all of his time in that shut up place. He had to know the truth. This thing seemed so much like his daughter it was scaring him. Her body had passed in it, true but that didn't explain this feeling that his child was still with him. Maybe it was grief or the fact he couldn't have a proper funeral since an explanation had to be given and everything he worked for would be over. He didn't know.

Out of desperation he tore open the chest cavity and found nothing, of course there would be nothing. But it was still there. It spoke and moved as if it were fully conscious of its actions, more alive than he was at this point. It made no sense, it couldn't be made to make sense.

As he turned, he caught sight of a newspaper article he had pinned up a while ago, back when Freddy's was at its peak. He had pinned it because it made him laugh at the time, some employee fired for tampering with the animatronics telling the media that the machines were haunted and came after him in the night. Back then, William had laughed it off as a disgruntled employee trying to get back at the company because he had been fired. Now reading it the uneasy feeling grew, wondering if he hadn't just been a disgruntled employee.

Whatever was going on here, the answers weren't in this place.

They were at Freddy's.

===============================================

The place had been abandoned all this time. Leaks and stink of rot filled his nostrils, like it had been walked out of and no one looked back. It was disgusting to see his life's work reduced to something like this so quickly. Henry was a vile pig for not taking care of everything he entrusted to him.

The suits were just as they had been, rotting and full of holes. But they were still his. His designs, his everything. He had to know, he had to know what he created.

Each one was ripped apart individually. Searching for the answers as to why his Circus Baby was haunted and if some remnant of the children he had slaughtered still remained. He was losing sleep over this series of what ifs in his brain. If he knew now he would be at peace, finally at peace.

=============================================

Like before there was nothing. Although this time he didn't bother putting them back together. Let them rot in pieces for all he cared. Just some stupid night guard probably high out of his mind trying to make a few bucks in a lawsuit. That's all it was, he was just paranoid. He'd go home now and see his wife, his child, and forget about all of this. Just a bad dream to go away.

That's when he saw them.

The haunting figures of all those he cut down. Each of their little faces, sobbing and coming towards him. He was hallucinating, he had to be! This couldn't be real, it wasn't!

"Get back- get back!" He retreats slowly in fear, picking up a broken chair and waving it at the children to attempt to keep them at bay. However this proved unsuccessful as they refused to relent and pushed him into the corner.

"What do you want from me!?"

They refused to answer, continuing to approach their attacker.

"You vicious little beasts I said to stay back!" As he stepped closer to the wall his foot hit something hard.

Behind his back was his rotting suit, the same one used to kill these miserable children. He would be protected in there, safe inside and with metal protecting him he could escape, bring his beloved suit with him and be free of this nightmare. Hell, he'd even come back to burn it to the ground.

Quickly and without hesitation he climbs into the suit, its smelled of blood and mold but it was home. It was familiar, safe. Somewhere where he could be himself and do what he loved. Such a silly thing to be scared of, a bunch of ghosts. He was invincible in this, invincible!

"Now what will you do!? Look at how small you are, how worthless you are! I made you!" He breaks into laughter, almost embarrassed for being so afraid.

Until he feels the first lock drive itself into his flesh.

"Fuck-!" He tries to relax his breathing to avoid further malfunctions but it's fruitless.

More and more of the locks pierce his flesh, digging through flesh and bone until they're all into their original position. Trying to remove the suit just causes excruciating pain that would do more damage than good. He was going to die here. All of this, all of his dreams and ambitions. Gone. Because of his own stupidity. He had been such a fool. More measures should have been taken, and now he's stuck with the consequences. It was all over. All of it.

The edges of his vision were going black, he was going to die. He knew he was going to die. The last sight on this earth not his precious family but the faces of those he took from this world.

Rage burned inside him, it was their fault. They did this to him.

"I'll see you in hell, you hear me? I always come back, always!"

He collapsed in a pool of his own blood, thoughts of revenge burning in his mind.

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[mortalfaerie]

a compelling offer, pt. 3

aemond targaryen x velaryon (strong) oc

summary: aemond and daenys discuss the wedding

note: not my favorite chapter but it was necessary- more exciting stuff to come

--

"Why are you doing this?" Daenys asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the nosy courtiers.

"Simple, I am unwed, you are unwed, and my mother seeks to consolidate our houses. By wedding you, I will do just that." He said, as though explaining a mathematical equation.

Daenys grimaced at the clinical way he described it. "What poetic words you offer me," she said flatly.

"I am not in love with you, Lady Daenys," he said, almost humorous. "But nor do I despise you. I do remember that you were absent that night on Driftmark."

Daenys recalled the horrid night in question. When travelling to Driftmark for the funeral, she had become violently ill - so much so that the Archmaester had to be summoned to treat her. By happenstance, he has been able to stitch Aemond's wound after the confrontation with her brothers and cousins. "I was desperately ill," she reasoned, "I had the spring fever. I couldn't have left my bed if my life depended on it."

"Even still, you were as innocent as you could have been with your family." He added. Daenys chose not to read into that statement.

"So, you will wed me out of duty?" She asked with resignation. "And I imagine you will bed me only enough so that I get with child, and then you will find comfort with other women thereafter."

Aemond stopped walking and looked critically at her. "I may not love you, but that doesn't mean I will dishonor you. I am not my brother, Daenys. I will cleave only unto you, and what children we have will come from that."

"Oh," Daenys breathed, a little surprised.

"I will stand before the High Septon and swear to forsake all others, neice. I am not an oath breaker, and I hope neither will you be." He stated.

Daenys found his look piercing, and glanced away. "It's not as though other men are dying for my hand, my prince."

Aemond hummed. "Shall we continue?"

Daenys nodded, allowing him to lead.

"Having considered it, I would like to ask your forgiveness for my statements last night at dinner. They were uncouth to say," He said as they walked, "And dishonorable upon my house and yours."

She looked up at him, studying. "Your apology is appreciated, my prince. I would extend my own apology on behalf of my brother, Jacaerys."

He waved her off. "Nonsense, he was defending your honor as a brother should. Lady Daenys," he paused, and then continued, "I am earnest in my offer of marriage. I believe we wound be well suited to each other, and the matter of convenience for our families is a benefit, but not the sole reason for my proposal."

Daenys furrowed her brow. "Forgive me, my prince, but until a few days ago, I had not seen you in years. What makes you think that I am so suited, if you hardly know who I have grown to become?"

He considered this. "You have great pride and security in your person, I could tell that in the way you responded to my insult. You didn't back down from the perceived challenge. And you weren't content to let your brother fight your battles for you, I saw that in how you pulled him off of me. You are a dragonrider, and I hear, a learned scholar. I think that with these traits, you will find a mirror in me. I seek a wife of substance, one whose counsel I can rely upon. I see this in you."

"That is flattering indeed, but," she asked, "What do I stand to gain from this union?"

Aemond looked down at her and gave a half smile. "I would hope, security, companionship, and a husband who will allow you full freedom to pursue your interests."

Daenys tried not to be lulled into a false sense of security by his words. Over the years, she had come to be wary of her uncle Aemond... but in the times she imagined a villainous, sadistic man with one eye, she had not imagined this.

"It is likely that my mother will hasten to arrange our marriage, and so you will be returning to King's Landing rather shortly. Moreover," he paused, stopping to face her. "There is the matter of what sigil you will wear on your cloak."

Daenys bristled, and took in a sharp breath. "My prince, whatever reservations you possess on my parentage, I learned High Valyrian at my mother's knee and sailed the far recesses of the Narrow Sea upon my grandsire's ship. When first I took to the skies on dragonback, it was on my father's lap. I have been a Velaryon from the moment of my birth, and I will go to the Sept one."

Aemond, somewhat bemused, cocked an eyebrow. "I only meant to ask if you would wear the seahorse of Laenor Velaryon, or the dragon of your mother, since her rank did supercede his."

"Oh." Daenys breathed. "My apologies, then." Embarrassment ebbed into her features, and she pointedly looked away.

"You seem to have answered my question aptly, however." He shifted his weight as he added, "And my lady,"

"Hm?" Daenys acknowledged.

"We have discussed that, despite my poor manners last night, my quarrel with your brothers is not my quarrel with you. While I may disagree with your view of the matter, I was taught that a husband should not dishonor his wife, in deed or in word."

Daenys looked at him, digesting his statement. "By this, you mean to say...?"

Aemond clarified, "I will make no objection to the circumstances of your birth, nor tolerate it to be spoken in my company. To do so would be to dishonor you."

"And what of my brothers?" She asked. It would be hypocritical to state her legitimacy and not Jacaerys - after all, they had shared a womb.

"I will not indulge in gossip about my nephews." he said, albeit looking uncomfortable as he did. Daenys studied him, scrutinizing the words for a double meaning. Finding none, she nodded. "Alright."

Continuing on the garden path, she said, "I will bring Asserion, my dragon,"

"Of course," he agreed.

"And I will bring with me as well my tutors. My mother employs septas for my education, as well as a scholar of Old Valyria. I should like to continue my studies after our marriage." She added.

"The crown has access to some of the most learned men in the whole of the seven kingdoms, certainly you could find tutors here?" He asked.

Daenys smiled sweetly, determined to have her way - and her link to her family back in Dragonstone - upheld. "I have grown so accustomed to their presence. If I am to move my life to the Red Keep and away from my brothers and mother, certainly you would allow me this small concession."

He looked critically at her a moment and then sighed. "Of course, you may keep them."

Daenys batted her eyelashes. "Thank you, my prince. You are most considerate."

Truth be told, her tutors were not irreplaceable - but their loyalty to her mother's cause was unshakable, and their reports back to her mother would not be questioned - and allowed Daenys a crucial line of communication to her family, and to her mother's council. She would serve her mother well in this setting, she decided.

[farity]

Sorrow, part 2

Elyse Darklyn, no longer the Lady of this particular House, walked to the front gates of the castle to bid farewell to the king and his family. They had done the House a great honor by attending the funeral and now the new Lord would take over for his dead brother, while Elyse would return to Duskendale, to find herself some semblance of a life amidst her relatives.

She saw her brother in law, the new Lord, as he spoke to the king, and then he turned to her, his beady eyes appraising her even as she wore black in morning for his brother. Whoever he married would have to turn a very, very blind eye, for no servant, boy or girl ,was safe around him.

When he extended his hand to her, she felt a frisson of fear and her step faltered.

He could do nothing to her now, Elyse thought. She was headed home. Free of this place. Free of the hell that had been her marriage.

"You may congratulate me, Your Grace," he was saying, hand still extended toward her, "for I will be taking my brother's widow and making her a wife once again."

Elyse stopped, blood pounding in her ears. Amidst the murmurs and turned heads from those present, there was one person who stood perfectly still, and she found herself turning to him.

The king's brother. The kinslayer.

Her breathing was uneven, and if she did not find something to hold on to, she was going to faint.

"Come, sweeting," her brother in law was saying, "for you may discard your widow's weeds and rejoice once more."

The kinslayer was looking at her, his single blue eye blazing as he examined her face, and then looked at her brother in law.

Elyse couldn't move. For to take one step was to doom herself to more of the same hell she had barely survived.

"I must apologize, my lord," the king's brother said.

"Prince Aemond?"

"You see, the Lady Elyse and I have come to an agreement."

Elyse felt as if she was at the edge of a great precipice, and when the prince looked at her, she nodded.

"I do not understand."

Prince Aemond walked toward her, taking his time as if he knew that if he moved too quickly, she might bolt. When he offered his hand, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to clasp his fingers, and when he tucked her hand into his arm she clung to him, aware of the anger emanating from her brother in law.

She saw the prince shoot a pointed look at his brother, the king, and then he looked back at her. "After her mourning period is over, we are to be wed."

* * * * *

She didn't know if she should laugh or cry, so she did what she was used to and did neither. The king and his sister-wife were looking at her as they spoke quietly, while the king's mother, the dowager queen, sat silently next to her.

Elyse was used to disappointing people. She'd always disappointed her father, then her husband, and she'd certainly disappointed her brother in law, his angry red face the last memory she would have of him. She had been led into the royal wheelhouse and only after she'd realized that her betrothed was not joining her.

He'd be flying back on his dragon, of course.

"Would you like a sweet?"

Elyse realized queen Helaena was speaking to her and she immediately tightened her fingers in the fabric of her skirts. "Thank you, Your Grace, you are very kind." She reached out to take the tiny cake offered and smiled at the queen.

"I am very sorry for your loss, of course," Helaena said, "unexpected joy follows unexpected sorrow."

King Aegon rolled his eyes at the words and raised the shade to look out the window.

"There is much to learn," queen Alicent said then, "there is protocol and history, and you will be expected to serve in some of the charities. It is our duty to help the poor and honor the Mother in her love for those less fortunate. Every week, we . . . "

Elyse didn't care, she would do whatever was asked of her. She would keep her secret for as long as possible, and be grateful for the fact that she had been taken away from the hell she'd lived in for the last few years. She'd be grateful to breathe something other than the rotten air of her husband's breath, to hear words other than his foul jests.

And she would be grateful for the fact that she was spared yet another hellish marriage.

She hadn't spoken to her betrothed since he'd held her hand and taken her away, but one thing Elyse had learned amidst the insults and blows she had received during her marriage, and it was how to read people.

Why he had chosen to lie and save her, she didn't know, but she didn't see cruelty in him. And if he was a cruel man, well, she could flee. She knew King's Landing was a big city, she'd sewn her few jewels into the lining of her traveling dress, she'd slip away and no one would miss her and she would start anew.

She just had to hold on a little longer.

* * * * *

"Very well, my prince."

Aemond nodded and the servant left to prepare the bedchamber next to his.

He'd purposely avoided seeing his grandfather when he'd gotten back home, Otto Hightower would be furious when he found out Aemond had chosen a betrothed like the Lady Elyse. She was from a minor house to begin with, and now she was a widowed, childless woman who brought no political or economic advantage to the match.

But Aemond had seen the fading bruises on her neck and the terror in her eyes when her brother in law had said he was going to marry her, and he'd once again, acted impulsively.

At least this time, no one had died because of his carelessness.

He closed his eye and let his head fall back as he sat before the fire in his rooms.

He had to admit he'd been captivated since he'd seen her in her chapel, thanking the gods as she wept. He hadn't quite known what to think of that until he had seen her the next morning, her beauty marred by marks of violence, her poise and grace tinged with fear, and he'd known he had to get her away from here.

His quick mind had come up with no other solution other than tying her to himself and he'd spoken before the thought was fully formed. She had placed cold fingers on his hand and squeezed as if her life depended on it and he would find out just what had terrified her so much that she would willingly accept the lie he offered.

Kinslayer, they called him.

How awful was the alternative that she would marry him?

* * * * *

[short-skirt-longjackett]

Renewal Isn't A Lie Anymore pt. 9

(i'm back from the dead- and I think it's appreciated and appropriate if I started off with my most popular series lol)

-Edward Nashton x gn! reader

-warnings: canonical violence, some talk of nsfw, something a little hurtful ;)

While Bruce ran around Gotham looking for clues that would bring him closer to The Riddler, he was also looking for you. He knew he fucked up with you, but maybe he can salvage this relationship...Or would you just end up as brainwashed as The Riddler?

While Batman chased his own tail, Edward kept with carrying his plan. Though you two were now unlikely lovers and not exactly in a relationship, he didn't share any of his plans with you. He didn't want you involved. But you very much were since you were now his fuck buddy.

You laid in an empty bed. You just woke up from an exciting night with The Riddler. You sat up and looked out the window, viewing the gloomy and depressing city below. You looked around the messy room, clearly Edward left for work.

Getting up out of his bed, you shuffle around the cold apartment. Making your way to the kitchen, you noticed a small note.

'Gone to work, have a good day love'

You smiled, placing the sticky note on his fridge. From the top of your brain, you had nothing to do today expect go to pay your respects to now deceased Don Mitchell Jr. Though you never liked him, you felt for his family. He left behind a wife and a son, you only could imagine how hard it is for them. You obviously know Edward caused this...Though you liked Edward...You could only imagine what he could do to you if you ever went back to Bruce...or even talked back to him once. Edward was more than capable to kill you and make an example out of you, and you knew he would if he didn't like what you were doing or saying.

As you dressed, you think about the previous night. How he touched you, how he fucked you...You blush as you dressed in your all-black attire. You check yourself in the bathroom before you exit his apartment and make your way to the church.

When you got the church, immediately the press took photos of you. How you showed up with Bruce, how you kept your head down as you walked pass...You knew they would make this funeral an article on how you're no longer going out or being seen with Bruce. As you walked through the door, all eyes were on you. But you only kept your eyes forward, seeing the large flower arrangements on both sides of the casket.

As you made your way, you saw Bruce being spoke to by the new Mayor, who won by default. Though he stayed silent, you could tell by his body language he did not want to be there or spoken to.

'He looks skinner...He isn't eating' you thought. He turned and noticed you, freezing at your presence. You also didn't know how to feel seeing him. He awkwardly pushes through people to get to you, making your mouth go dry with anxiousness.

"Hi..."

"Hello Bruce.."

Was that all you could muster up? After all this time that's all you could say? You nervously look up him. He looked depressed, he always looked that way but this time it was different. "Y/n...Could we talk after this...? I don't want you to run off..." he said quietly, just above a whisper.

"Fine, we can..." you said, struggling to make eye contact. "I got a video of you last night...A certain video of you with..." God he couldn't even finish that sentence. Your eyes grew in shock. Oh god, he sent that to him? Maybe because you were in a horny daze you couldn't process anything he was saying, you didn't know that he was going to send it to him.

"I don't know...how he got with you or got to you...But I need to make sure you're okay," he said, soon looking up to make eye contact with a young boy that was the mayor's son. As you spoke, he then turned to look up at the floor above him. Though he wanted to listen to you, something felt off. He saw a silhouette of a man..but who?

You notice him not paying attention, "Bruce, did you just hear anything I said,,?" you said quietly, but clearly annoyed. You noticed where his eyes were, so you follow...But see nothing. "Bruce, what's wrong?" You whispered again.

As the gospel music played, a crash was soon heard. A car managed to crash into the building. Everyone screamed and moved out the way. As you saw Bruce run to protect the child. You felt a presence snatch you from the back, place something large, cold, heavy, and metal around your neck. What the hell? As you tried to look down, your hands roaming what was just put on you, your eyes widen. There was a bomb now attached to you by the said metal device. Start to freak out, people that were around you now ran away from you as quickly as they can. As you scramble to look who was the culprit and who could help, your mind only went to one person...Edward. Only someone of his genius could make something like this.

You started to tear up, trying to get the device off of you. "Is this a fucking saw trap?!" You yelled, tears now flowing from your face. Was this how you were going to die? Was this your resting place?

Was everything with Edward a ploy for this exact moment?

As you cried, Bruce looked over at your now crying figure. He internally freaked out as he saw you crying. As everyone ran out, some staying to see what was in the car. A man soon stepped out with the same device around his neck, only he looked more beat up. he had a card stepped to his chest and a phone taped to his hand, an unknown number calling the phone. The man looked just as panicked as you did. Soon police escorted everyone out, leaving you and this man alone with a casket in an empty church.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and the man sat there in silence for what seemed to be hours. You tried to hold back your tears, you felt so many emotions that you couldn't even let out. The police sent in a small device to keep an eye on both of you as police stood at the entrance, guns and shield held up.

The man who sat across from you stay silent, tape over his mouth that simply read "No more lies". To the police chiefs and investigators, they were confused on why you were brought into the situations. You never took up bribes, you never lied on your promises. Hell, you made everything better. Was he just using you as an example on no matter good or bad, the rich must be taken out? Or were you hiding something? Soon, the phone rang again...and again.

Out of the shadows, Batman came out and approached you both. You both felt relief, more of him than you. Bruce looked down at you, looking at your face stained with tears. Even with your tears, you still look at beautiful as the day he met you. Bruce wanted to caress your face, tell you it would be okay and bring you home. But he knew he couldn't.

He took the tape off the mans face, soon answering the phone. You heard the Riddler talking to Batman, heard him talking about chances and how he was never given one. But now Batman has a chance to make everything right. As he spoke to your husband, he then spoke to Colson about riddles and how they were his retreat.

"Now...place the phone to my sweet angel...Y/n.." he demanded, the man showing the screen to reveal your disheveled look. You could barely look up at the screen to face him...

He betrayed you, used you as a pawn to make a statement...

"My darling, loving, caring angel...You are always so kind. You never lie...yet here you are in this predicament. Now, my sweet...I want you to answer three riddles. Three riddles and I'll set you free. You have two minutes...Are you ready?" he asked, trying to come off as a sweet and caring guy.

You simply nodded, taking in a sharp breath as you hear the beeping of the bomb go off. You had to make this count, even though you knew Edward loved you...he wouldn't hold back.

"What can you break of mine even if you never pick it up or touch it?"

"Your heart..."

"Good job! Now...What can fill a room...but takes up no space?" he asked, almost seeming he was giving you easy ones on purposes. You knew deep down he didn't want you to die.

"..Love.." you answered, seeming more agitated at the fact of why you are here. He wanted to use you to make a statement. As you answered, Bruce felt his jaw clench. He knew the Riddler fucked you, even had feelings for you. But at this point he was openly flirting and professing his love to you right Infront of him. Bruce knows he messed up with you. But maybe this could bring you together once he saves you both.

"You're so good at this Y/n! And they say public schools doesn't teach people anything..." he joked, but you weren't having it. You were beyond pissed.

"Now, 1 minute and 1 more riddle...I can be offered. A very important part of a relationship, I survive when it is true. What am I?" he asked, this one crawling underneath your skin.

"Loyalty.." you said, clearly pissed off. You were loyal to Bruce, then he slept with his crime partner, Selina, behind your back...Then you gave it to Edward, who was now sitting here, asking you riddles while your life depends on it.

You knew nothing of true loyalty.

As he congratulated you, the contraption fell off. It was freeing. You shot up, your hands feeling your neck area. It was so light now...As you felt tears of happiness and fear come up, your instincts lead you to hug Bruce. As you cried, spewing nonsense of 'thank god' and 'holy shit', you held tightly onto Batman.

Bruce instantly held you back, rubbing your back as you cried into his chest. He didn't want to let you go, and you clearly weren't going to let go anytime soon. He viewed you neck, it was read and bloody from the metal rubbing against your neck all he could give you right now was a small "it's okay".

You heard Bruce help the man answer his tougher riddles. You saw as he tried denying taking brides. Bruce set you aside as he stepped closer to him. Your breath was short as you listened to the bomb tick more and more. Before you knew it, Bruce used his body as a human shield to block you from the explosion. Bruce took the brunt of the explosion for you, protecting your body. Was this way to say sorry?

As you groaned in pain, Bruce whispering in your ear

"It's okay baby, I'm here..."

"You're safe, I'll bring you home.."

All you could do was just listen, you felt so weak. Your eyes closed as police ran in, only hearing yelling for a few faint seconds but nothing.

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Villain Kenji au - Chapter 1

Mentions of character death

This wasn't happening...it couldn't have been happening...

Kenji Sato...freshly turned 22 years old only two weeks ago. His baseball career was just starting and actually looking good for him. Yeah, it's going to be a long road ahead towards fame but nothing he can't handle.

But this...he can't handle this...

He was just on the phone with his mother who was in the Tokyo airport. She was there and wanted to let Kenji know she made it there safely.

It was a little funny when she accidentally clicked the video call button instead of the regular call button...

"Oh, my apologies ken, you know I'm not good at this technology stuff. But hey, at least you can see me!"

He saw her...he saw her die...

It- It happened so fast it- She didn't even have time to properly react. That...that thing...that scaled demon raised itself from out of the water and trudged itself toward the water.

It was unprovoked...yet it used violence in its wake on innocent bystanders. What could have possibly set it off? Kenji didn't know...all he heard was a roar on the other side of the phone and saw his mother look up in fear.

The last thing he saw was her frightened face before the phone fell to the ground.

He screamed her name at the phone, hoping, wishing for any sign of life...but nothing. The screen was black, so her phone was more than likely broken.

Kenji fell to his knees and dropped his phone...a lump was in his throat. He can't breathe and his heart was stop going at a million miles an hour

This...this is a joke; it has to be a joke...a sick joke...but his mother would never play a prank like this...

Kenji's voice was hoarse as he felt numb...was it the shock? He wanted to cry but something was stopping him

"Mama...please...be alive"

30 thousand people died that day...including Emiko Sato.

The funeral was heart breaking...He was quiet and numb for quite some time...only crying when he was in the safety of his room. And it wasn't many people there at the funeral.

Emiko cut off most of her family due to the toxicity she grew up with so the only people who showed up were her childhood best friends. They all gave him their condolences, but their words fell on numb ears.

One parent absent and the other six feet under...doesn't really do well on a guy's mental health. He constantly wishes he was there to save her. He constantly has nightmares about that day, some where he's holding her corpse...begging her to wake up.

Kenji didn't send out a funeral invite to his father because he was too infuriated at the mere thought of doing so.

"He should've been there...he has the suit for fuck's sake, and he couldn't save her?!...no...no, he can burn in hell for all I care!"

Hayao tried to call him, voicemail after voicemail, text after text. Kenji blocked him entirely. The final straw was the last email...

"Kenji...Kenji please, your mother isn't answering my calls and...I- I need your help. M- My body...I- it's giving out on me; I don't think I can fight much longer. I sent you a copy of the Ultraman suit...please Kenji...I need you to help"

The audacity...the sheer audacity of this fucker was immaculate. Ignore the existence of your son and wife since he was six years old and now you want his help? IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS?!

No...no, no, no...FUCK NO!

Kenji searched for his father's number and dialed it, waiting for an answer...he picked up. Ken laid down everything he felt for the past 17 years onto his father.

"You left me and mom to fend for ourselves, you left mom alone to raise me by HERSELF! You've only ever called ONCE on my birthday and never even called on mom's. You don't care...YOU'VE FUCKING NEVER CARED! And... when mom needed you the most...you let her die..."

"W- What" Hayao didn't understand...what did he mean by that?!

"Oh...I forgot to tell you...mom is dead...your WIFE is dead..."

Those words hurt kenji badly...his heart clenched at the memory. The memory plagued his thoughts and dreams since the incident.

Before Hayao could even reply Kenji threw his phone at the wall and fell to his knees. Angry and sad tears fell down his cheeks as he sobbed.

His fists punched at the ground ferociously. His ai assistant, Mina, used her robotic arms to hold him back so he wouldn't hurt himself further.

"Kenji, this isn't a good coping mechanism, you need to calm down!"

"FUCK. OFF!"

The young man screamed and thrashed about to get out of the robot's grasp. She didn't let him go and held onto him tightly until he calmed down.

After about 20 more minutes of his fury, he calmed down a bit and Mina took him too his room. She laid him down on his bed and he just...laid there. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to fight back..

"Get some rest Kenji...you need it"

The following days were like a haze for him. He was technically in and out of reality at this point. A week went by, and something came in the mail.

...The ultraman suit...the symbol that was the bane of his existence.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Kenji was actually in tune with reality enough to open the box and pull it out. Just seeing it caused a violent reaction as he tried to rip it, burn it, doing anything he could to destroy it but...nothing worked.

It was like Edna Mode made it or something!

Kenji was out of breath as the thing was in his hands. His fingers gripping it tightly.

Ken didn't want to be Ultraman, just to spite his father. Not only that, but Kenji would swallow glass before he would attempt to fight a Kaiju or Kindly move it away from where it was causing terror.

To be honest...he just wanted to rip those things apart, limb from limb, organ from organ. To slice, cut, and tear every fiber of them to shreds with his bare hands.

Kenji was going to throw the suit into the ocean, but a thought crossed his mind. The KDF. They were known to have more permanent ways of getting rid of Kaiju's...

And from what he could remember, His father hated the KDF ever sense they became a thing.

Then it clicked...and a bone chilling smile came upon Kenji's face...

"I'll be Ultraman for you dad...just. for. you"

This is the story of Kenji Sato...a man who's going to fall far from grace...and into the pits of insanity.

@jaidenk-nox FINALLLYYY MADE IIIIT! (Ik it's short, I sorry for that tho)

[masterkeynobi]

watched hotd s1e7. honestly frustrated by how much the quality's gone down post-timeskip it's just too much info + new characters + dynamics that have drastically shifted since s1e5 i wish they didn't have to cram it all into 10 eps and have a billion unanswered questions/gripes about it. Woe.

i understand alicent's growing bitterness re: rhaenyra & think she's right most of the time, but. why is ser criston an incel boo we hate you etc. why did the kingsguard ALLOW HIM TO REMAIN after he straight up killed a guy unprovoked how did velaryon house let him do that. i mean i guess we can't acknowledge that the guy he killed was laenor's man but still?

how and why did daemon and laena get married. laena's suicide makes NO fucking sense to me i feel like if you are actively giving birth and also married to a prince no doctor alive is going to allow you to stagger outside and tell your dragon to burn you alive??? extremely hard to believe. and also why did daemon like. not give a fuck at all LMAO

WHAT is the process of assigning dragons to targs. is it a chris paolini-style the egg picks whom to hatch for thing, is there a stockpile of eggs, is it reliant on adult dragons mating? where are the velaryons getting theirs from; what access does rhaenys still have to them?

alicent hates rhaenyra's ass for using + abusing the freedom that alicent herself is so universally denied, but literally what does rhaenyra have against alicent? they were on good terms up until the end of s1e5. is it just, like, she clearly has beef with me so ig it's mutual? has alicent just Decided to be cruel to her and acted on that for the last 10y?

if laenor was shooting blanks why couldn't rhaenyra have at least gotten pregnant by someone who looked even a little bit like him. girl your husband is black and you both have white hair if you're making white brown-haired babies no fucking shit everyone knows theyre bastards?

WHY are daemon and rhaenyra fucking (on the beach! perhaps the worst place to be fucking!) on the night of his wife's funeral what are the vibes here you haven't seen him in like ten years. WHAT.

also i wish we'd gotten more than 30s of ser harwin bc he's literally nothing to me i don't know what rhaenyra saw in him that made Having Three (3) Illegitimate Children (all of whom are visibly illegitimate) worth it

i think a lot of my issues wrt pacing/density could've been solved with the addition of ~2 eps mid-timeskip? how did all the failmarriages (four! count 'em) get as bad as they are. when did rhaenyra + harwin's affair start and why should we care about it, aside from the paternity issue. how did rhaenicent raise and react to their children, how did VISERYS react to their children, how did those children react to each other. how did the girls' rship get This bitter. alas, what we have is this. it's not great