#this series just gets more and more insane the more you think about it

[just-some-random-blogger]

LKAHSFL'H I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT REBLOGGED THIS YET LAKSFHLKASHFL'HASFHASF ASF YOU MUST FORGIVE ME I DONT WANT TO CLOG THE DASH WITH A REBLOG OF THE SAME CHAPTER YA FEEL ILY ILY

first of all, almost crying during a nail appointment is honestly such iconic behavior HAHAHHAHAHHAH LOLOLOL. im kinda sad you stopped reading ): you should have cried during the nail appointment AHHAHAHAHAHAH LOLOLOL JK

CARGYLL TWIN SCREENTIME GO BRRRRRRRRRR RAHHHH. i would never take erryk or arryk for that matter from you <3 I WISH THEY HAD MORE SCREEN TIME IN THE SHOW FR THEY FUCKING KILLED THEM AND TRAUMATIZED ME AND FOR WHAT???????????

and viserys yeah 😬😬😬 T_T i love making people have sympathy for him even when hes disgusting 😁 because thats the whole point of this story (: i love my barbies. i wish him a very much rot

STARK OBESSION GO BRRR. tumblr notified me you posted something and I RAN COS I THOUGHT IT WAS AN UPDATE but it was just a reblog of your fic 🙄 WHICH IS FINE AND IM NOT PRESSURING YOU AT ALL TO UPDATE. job and robb are hot fr but i wanted benjen THEN THEY FUCKING OFFED HIM 🤬 also HE PROBABLY HAS ONE HAS ME GAGGED.

[...] Older me can now see Ned's appeal too. He probably has one, with how much Catelyn loved having his babies)

I WAS ABOUT TO ASK 'HAS WHAT' then i realized you mean APPEAL T_T he probably has APPEAL T_T CRYINNNGGGGGGGG. i cant help but think about all the boromir memes (cuz you know sean bean) and how his dad would react to this MY SON HAS APPEAL 🤬 HAHAHAHAH LMAO. honestly, i feel catelyn. if i was married to a stark id have 10000 babies too AHHAHA LOL

The scene where she lost the babies hurt me physically. I now get what you said and why you laughed when I hoped the baby was valyrian to spare her the pain, you cruel, cruel woman.

its ok i love you

DAEMON GROVEL ERA IS A NEED. dont worry about spam liking i love it when that happens

[...] making Viserys and Alicent's marriage be all about him [...]

YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE SO RIGHT. HE THINKS HES THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE FR OMLLL UGHHH EWW

HERES TO HIM BEING JEALOUS AND SUFFERING FOREVER FOR LIFE

ALSO MY GEORGE FIC WEEE I THINK IT WAS REALLY CUTE! i was honestly gagged that i struggled to write fluff 💀 all because of this series 😀 BUT THENI GOT MY GROOVE AND IM MAKING A GEORGE ANGST NOW BECAUSE IM INSANE HAHAHHA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ��𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

[saessenach]

Thinking many thoughts about Miss Andarateia Cantori tonight because what do you mean we get to be in her house for the entire game, in which she and her boyfriend/partner-in-crime run a gambling den, assassin guild ANd find the time to argue with the public administration while opposing a military occupation?? who does it like her??

Joke aside, I think she's an incredibly fun character, and I'm really happy that hers was the lens through which we saw the Crows this game. Whenever I see random posts and critiques commenting that the Crows were too "sanitised" or "found-family", I want to yell a bit, because DATV never claims that to be the case!! Obviously everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but what we see is anchored in a very specific context: not just Treviso under Antaam occupation, but also the Cantori Diamond, which falls under Teia's jurisdiction.

She's an elven orphan turned Guildmaster and Talon, who desperately wanted to find family in the Crows! While the other Talons resisted her attempts at every step (some more succesfully than others ksks), that implies 1) her approach towards her own House was probably not dissimilar and 2) it got her the Talon position in her 20s. Ergo, her modus operandi was probably fairly successful.

For all that she threatens to evict anyone who treats her like a landlord (lol), the Diamond is very much a reflection of her as a character. It's all completely in line with both her general characterisation in 8 Little Talons and with the point she reaches at the end of that story when confronting Emil. I don't think it's a coincidence that out of our two POVs in 8LT, she's the one discussing Crow ideology with their would-be-murderer:

and

and

Following this particular set-up, of course orphans like Jacobus are treated kindly; of course fledglings have time to gossip in quiet corners while training; of course she helps the Dellamortes however she can?? She decided these people are family to her, and she wants to do better by them than what she got. This is wildly compelling to me personally, because she's such a delightful mix of idealism and disillusionment, honesty and manipulation, compassion and retribution - and she's so fucking obstinate about it!!!

There's also the little connection with the Crows' beginnings, specifically in Treviso. Iirc, it's mentioned in 8LT that her base is Rialto (she's also got gardens there), so a part of me wonders whether the Diamond was an inherited property from a previous Cantori Talon, or whether she got it up and running between then and the events of the game. I think that between that little tibdbit and with Lucanis being named First Talon at the end of the game, it's pretty obvious that the theme of rebirth is very much the point in the Crows' plotline - a messy, hopeful and spiteful rebirth.

All of this is to say, what we get doesn't at all negate the other aspects we've seen from the Crows in previous games, but rather puts them into perspective. The game just goes on to ask - isn't there another way to do this? what else is there room for us to be? is there any chance we might find some kindness in this world? and one of the ways these answers are explored is through Teia's character (we start this series with Zevran's story within the Antivan Crows - an elven orphan bought from a brothel, who doesn't have the power to change this guild, and end with Lucanis, Viago and Teia, who is, specifically, an elven orphan picked up (?) from the streets, who remains one of the powerhouses of the organisation. I love a bit of narrative symmetry ✨)

And honestly, I find this entire thing delightful - it's cheeky and dramatic and a lot of fun, and it makes sense for these characters, if you only sit with it for a second and give it a bit of thought!

(PS the way she draws Viago into her orbit and the way their partnership works is another rant entirely, and they drive me absolutely insane nghhh)

[studentofetherium]

any harem recommendations?

100 girlfriends is definitely a must... but i don't need to recommend that one

in terms of anime...

Shuffle is really bad, but in a trainwreck sort of way. watch with friends

To Love-Ru is like if Urusei Yatsura were a lot dirtier and more shameless

Dokidoki Precure is a show about love :)

Dual!! Parallel Trouble Adventure is a mediocre Evangelion ripoff that somehow i have never stopped thinking about

OreImo is kinda a harem but it's really just good. i don't care about any of the romance except the one between Kirino and Kuroneko

Negima!? is good but you need to watch the Shaft adaptation specifically. there's nothing else like it. and i mean that in a good way

Love Hina is bad and not in any sort of endearing way, but it's important to the development of the genre and so is worth watching anyway

in terms of manga...

Renai Boukun is insane because it's bad for a long time but if you stick with it, it somehow becomes one of the best things ever

I Don't Know Which Is Love is yuri

The World God Only Knows is a parody that is also one of the best and most sincere harem manga ive ever read

MonMus gets a bit too smutty for my comforts, and ive never been able to finish it, but it has a lot of fun stuff going on with its cast and worldbuilding

Bakarina is the one really good villainess series that i'll still rep for, plus it's bisexual

Rosario + Vampire has a great cast and a really fun world, although the quality of writing always goes down a lot whenever it tries to be serious

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 11: The Shadow to my Flame

Series masterlist

Masterlist

“That’s insane, Az,” Cassian was the first to speak.

As if Azriel didn’t already know that it was insane. He couldn’t be mated to a Vanserra.

Ashe Vanserra.

He only stood and waited for his brothers to continue the conversation. He felt speechless. He needed them to tell him that he was wrong. He was in total denial.

“Why do you think she’s a Vanserra?” Rhys was the next to speak. His voice was a lot calmer than Cassian’s. Hearing him call her a Vanserra made Azriel shiver.

“I have a few different theories.”

“Okay,” Rhys said with a few nods. “Let’s not jump to conclusion. Take a few deep breaths and explain.”

Azriel did what his brother suggested and started talking.

“First of all. I found this document,” he picked it up from his bag and gave it to his brother.

“You stole documents from Autumn?”

Azriel ignored the comment and continued speaking.

“It says that the Lady of Autumn had a still birth 160 years ago. Ashe is 160 years. Second of all, she got taught together with Lucian. Why else  would a servant get education with a High Lord’s son? And she’s good friends with Eris. He protects her. What if he does it because she is his…you know.”

He had to stop and take a few more breaths. This felt so wrong. He needed them to tell him that he was wrong. He couldn’t even say aloud that she was Eris’ sister.

His mate. He just wanted her to be as kind and lovely he had experienced her so far.

“Thirdly,” he then picked up the book he stole from Ashe and the red hair. “There is a law that says that all servants with red hair must colour their hair. If you look at the date of the law, it is from 160 years ago. I found this in Ashe’s cabin. She has red hair.”

And then came the reason that made him want to throw up. He hated to know that they had hurt his mate so badly, without reason.

“I told you guys about Thord, right? Well, the soldiers found out Thord got away and Samli, his mate, was going to be punished because of it. Ashe refused to see her friend get hurt because of something she did, so she volunteered to take the punishment.”

Azriel then picked up the last document and handed it to his brothers. He got an overwhelming feeling of anger as he continued.

“Samli was sentenced to ten lashes,” he struggled to continue talking. Both fear and anger took too much space. Why was he suddenly feeling so much? “Ashe had to drink faebane and got thirty-one lashes, where the last six was given by Beron himself. And he sat the whip on fire. He wants her dead, so we have to get her out.”

Azriel then sat down. Cauldron, he felt overwhelmed. Rhys and Cass were both visibly thinking. For a long time. They were as speechless as Azriel.

“Beron didn’t want us to see him beside her for such a long time,” Rhys muttered. “That’s why he made her leave during the dinner that day...”

Azriel only nodded. That was what made Azriel look into Ashe’s heritage in the first place.

“Well, I think you’re right,” Rhys said and Azriel’s heart sunk.

No!

He wasn’t supposed to be right. He was supposed to be insane. He wanted nothing more than to be insane.

Azriel struggled to breathe. He felt so terrified. His shadows engulfed him completely, and his brother’s voices muffled.

His sweet, kind and wonderful mate was the daughter of the most terrifying male in Prythian.

His head was spinning. He couldn’t breathe. His chest was tightened. He was dying. He was sure of it. Terror spread through his body. His heartrate got so much quicker than it should. And then he felt immense pain on his back and legs.

Wait?

Why were his legs hurting?

 “Azriel?” he heard his brother’s voice a lot clearer.

Cauldron, he was burning. He was being set on fire. He was sure of it.

He abruptly stood up and had to look at his legs and over his shoulders. There was no fire.

Which only meant one thing.

“She’s burning,” he said aloud as he realized.

His brothers started asking him what he was talking about, but Azriel had already left.

He didn’t care. If his mate was a traitor, he would deal with it later. If she had known about her heritage all along and lied to him, he would deal with it when they got to the night court. He would not risk her being innocent in all of this and being hurt, again, because of it.

He felt himself praying. He needed her to be okay. Even tears pressed at his eyes. He couldn’t find out what was his feelings and what was hers.

He needed to get to his Ashe. And for the moment, he let himself forget about all the difficult dilemmas he had to figure out later. He was going to save his mate.

And no one.

No one, no matter what felony they had committed, deserved to be burned.

“Walk with me,” he said.

Ashe almost threw up from fear only at his command. She wore no shoes, and she was in her nightgown, but the High Lord didn’t care.

He stood tall with his hands on his back and started to walk slowly down the corridor.

Ashe wasn’t stupid. She knew that they knew. They must somehow have figured out that she was helping the night court. There was no other reason to why the High Lord would command her out off her room in the middle of the night.

She was getting killed.

Ashe was terrified, but at the same time, she was proud of her work. She had saved Thord. She was helped preventing one of the bigger attacks and she had helped the Night Court knowing what they would have to do to stop the High Lord.

And she had met a very wonderful male.

It was now getting her killed, but she had lived so much only in the last couple of weeks, so it was fine.

Ashe walked beside the High Lord until they reached the balcony. It was warm outside, but with a clod breeze. It was typical that the weather would be nice when Ashe was dying.

“Do you know why I have brought you here?”

His voice brought shivers down her back once more. She took a few deep breaths to at least not shake from her terror. She was going to stay strong, even in her last moments.

“I don’t, my lord.”

She most definitely did, but just in case she was wrong, she chose not to say anything.

“Some very important documents have disappeared from my office. I have a suspicion the Shadowsinger is the one that took them.”

Yep, she was definitely dead.

“Maria told me something quite interesting recently. That when the Shadowsinger escaped from his cell, you were nowhere to be seen.”

Maria?

Maria had told on her? What? Maria was her friend! She wouldn’t have! Right?

“She also told me that you asked for a night leave at a very late time on the exact day your friend, the lesser one, got out of Autumn. And my spies tell me that he was delivered to the Shadowsinger. It would be a pitty for nobody to protect the mate of the lesser fae any longer.”

Oh no.

Cauldron no.

He was not going to hurt Samli.

“160 years,” he continued. “I have waited 160 years to have a reason to do this.”

Ashe froze. He had waited all her life to do it? To kill her? Why did he want to kill her? Ashe hadn’t even known he knew about her until recently.

She had almost no time to think before she felt the fire. She screamed her lunges out as it wrapped around her legs and up to her back.

She tried her best to use her own, safe fire to set herself on fire. To use her fire to stop his, but he was too strong. She couldn’t breathe. Her vision blackened. It was so hot. It was burning her. She smelled her skin burning.

She fell to the ground and the coldness was comfortable for a few seconds before the fire again got hold of her.

She would wake everyone. Everyone in the Forest House would hear her die. That’s probably what he wanted. To make an example out of her one last time.

She no longer had enough breath to scream. She could only let out whimpers.

Ashe fought to keep her eyes open. She refused to give up.

Somehow, she had the hope that someone would save her. Someone would come and give her a second chance at life.

So she tried to breathe and think cold thoughts. She tried to keep her eyes open, but the heat soon made it harder and harder.

She screamed the last she could. That was is. She was dying, she was now gone and soon forgotten. She was-

“Get your hands off my daughter.”

The voice was close, but distant at the same time. But Ashe didn’t care. Relief. She felt so much relief as multiple buckets off water made the fire around and on her disappear.

Ashe heard a loud bang and then heard a body fall to the ground. She almost didn’t dare to move. Please say that was the High Lord falling to the ground and not her saviour.

“You need to leave, my dear,” the voice told her. Ashe felt hands on her back and shoulders and whimpered at the pain from the touch. “I’m so sorry, my little one. Please, you need to leave.”

It was first then that Ashe realized who was speaking.

The Lady of Autumn.

Ashe turned and saw the tears and burn-mark on the Lady’s face. She looked further and saw the High Lord knocked out, but stirring a little.

“You got to leave,” the Lady said again, now Ashe heard enough to notice the pain and sobs in her voice.

Get your hands off my daughter.

She must have heard wrong.

“Daughter?” she whispered with a whimper.

The Lady lifted her up on her feet and gave her the gentlest hug. Ashe just wanted to sink into her. The Lady’s hands held her head and brushed carefully through her burned hair.

“Yes, my dearest,” she answered and wrapped a thick blanket around Ashe. Her nightgown was burned, so she needed to wear something. “We don’t have time to explain, you have to get out.”

Ashe didn’t even have time to start her existential crisis before they heard another voice.

“Traitor.”

The High Lord suddenly stood right behind Ashe and the Lady. The Lady pushed Ashe inside and closed the door to the balcony. She stood like a human wall and tried to prevent the High Lord getting to Ashe.

Ashe had blisters everywhere and cried for every step she took, but she walked as fast as she could.

Get out, get out, get out, get out.

“There you are!”

Ashe didn’t even turn to see who had found her before she almost fell through the door of the closest cupboard.

Of course it was the one where Azriel had kissed her.

She tried to keep her hisses and whimpers of pain quiet as she waited for people to pass.

“I’ve got you now, princess.”

Ashe had to force herself to think about anything else. She could not think about what the Lady had revealed. She was just a normal servant.

Azriel.

She would think about Azriel.

His soft mouth and pretty eyes.

She heard the steps getting closer.

His comforting smell and cool shadows.

“You can’t get away this time.”

The small smile he wore when it was only the two of them.

How hot he looked in his suit.

“I’m got you-” the sentenced ended with gurgling. Ashe realized it was gurgling of blood. Someone had cut his throat.

“Ashe, we need to leave,” Eris told her. Ashe have never been so relived and at the same time furious at hearing his voice.

“How am I supposed to trust you after what I have just learned?”

Eris realized immediately what she was talking about.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, but I know you’re smart enough to know that if we don’t go now, you’ll be dead within the hour.”

Ashe hated that he was right. She opened the door, and Eris immediately grabbed her by the wrist.

One second, they stood in the Forest House, the next, they were on the border to Summer.

Ashe ripped her hand out of Eris’ grip.

“You have to leave,” Eris said. “As long as you’re over the border you’ll be safe. I’ll explain everything, I promise you Ashe, but for now, you need to leave.”

His eyes were big. He was terrified. Her brother…

Eris had done this before, Ashe remembered. He had gotten Lucian to Spring. And now, he was helping her to Summer.

“Please, Ashe,” he said and gave her a small push towards the border.

“I’m not leaving without Samli,” she answered and got almost confused at the sound of her voice. It was so weak, rough and shaky.

“Wait here,” Eris said with a slightly annoyed sigh.

Eris was done within a second.

Ashe stood and waited. She struggled to stand, so she eventually started to lean further and further backwards. Her feet followed, and she felt herself crash into a tree.

She was ready to fall down to the ground, when the arms of the tree caught her.

Wait, what?

“I got you.”

She burst out crying at his voice. The shadows spread all around her body to cool down her blisters and burn-marks.

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

Ashe had no longer any energy to stay up by herself. All the adrenalines left the second he touched her.

He kissed her head and Ashe cried even more.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered again and kissed her forehead so tenderly.

“Wait,” was the only word Ashe managed to get out.

Azriel was going to ask her what they were waiting for, when Eris arrived back with Samli.

“Of course it’s you,” Eris said.

Samli was immediately over at Ashe’s side and helped holding her up.

“It’s over now,” she said and hearing her voice made Ashe cry even more.

It was too much. The pain, the thoughts, the feeling of safety. She was going to pass out.

And then she did.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[all-pacas]

I can’t quite congeal this into a proper question so it’s okay if you don’t have much of a response but I was thinking about Cameron and your thoughts on her. I was thinking about how she started out as the fellow who defended House the most and moved onto being the one who saw House as corrupting everyone around him, who didn’t want Chase to go back to Diagnostics. Her journey is just so interesting

YEAH NO she's fascinating. she really starts off s1 hard on the asskissing: in the pilot she has a whole thing defending house as "someone who doesn't believe in pretense, who says what he wants," which… doesn't completely gel with cameron's later character (as someone who would much rather lie than tell an unpleasant truth), but is telling for who she was written to be. and it's everywhere in s1: foreman makes fun of her for not believing in god but believing everything house says; she alone doesn't believe he has a drug problem in detox, etc. my absolute favorite is in heavy, when house thinks cameron might have made a mistake: cameron is furious. she is personally betrayed:

CAMERON: I’m the only one who’s always stood behind you when you’ve screwed up. HOUSE: Why? Why would you support someone who screws up? CAMERON: Because I’m not insanely insecure. And because I can actually trust in another human being and I am not an angry, misanthropic son of a bitch.

i love this, because it is so - it makes no sense. house is right. why is she touting her loyalty when house fucks up as a selling point worthy of praise? why does she think it's a mark of confidence to back someone she knows is wrong? but it's very cameron, all righteous fury.

and it's fascinating too to watch her slowly shift away from this stance. she loses a lot of it after their date: while cameron doesn't completely get over house for a while, she never pursues him again and starts off s2 with a crush on a patient (so she's clearly moving on); she sort of… slides back in s3 when house is struggling with the ketamine wearing off (getting fully white knight about it), but is absolutely furious with him after and during the tritter arc: if i were to name a turning point for cameron, that was it. with vogler, with a lot of house's mistakes, she/we can sort of handwave house as "he's doing the right thing, just not playing by the rules" (she says as much about him in role model); house is sort of noble, right? but tritter really exposes the lengths house will go to when he's in a corner: he alienates basically everyone, punches out chase, and then cheats his way through rehab. and cameron… moves on. she tells house in human error she thinks he'll be just fine on his own, which is in a way a complete departure for cameron, who spent s1 trying to be his best supporter, s3 his protector, etc.

it isn't that she stops caring, right? while i do generally believe her when she starts tiredly insisting she's over house by s3, he's definitely always someone she's gonna be attracted to and drawn to, even though the shine and hero worship have absolutely worn off. and there's some interesting dynamic stuff at play too -- cameron really treats house and wilson like equals in a way chase and foreman don't, in a way house and wilson also don't really treat the 'kids:' she insists on being on equal footing with them, talks to them like peers instead of an underling, and that persists for most of the series: i've said it before, but cameron and house are much more alike than they're given credit for, too, yeah? and in a way it all comes together: as cameron's worshipping shine fades, she treats house as more of an equal and stops agreeing with everything he says and does in an attempt to make him love her, which in turn house responds to i think -- he too starts treating her more like a peer as time goes by. but she no longer has that loyalty in that same way. she's no longer trying to be his protector. they're peers.

and so when s6 happens… i mean, let's be real. cameron is scapegoating house. house says it. chase says it. she, fair enough, doesn't want chase to have killed a guy, so she's shifting the blame onto a convenient target. she's known for years house plays games, his messing around in teamwork is fairly innocuous and not different from his s4 games (that she participated in actively). but at this point she's looking for an excuse to blame house, to protect chase, and house no longer has that hero worship shine………

idk, i'm really just rambling too, but i so agree with you; cameron has such a fascinating arc (there's also the way she gets progressively more cheerful and confident as the years pass) and really doesn't get credit for it. i hate that she left the show and the show suffers without her, but… i love she was able to do it, you know? she's just the best

[crafty705]

These are valid criticisms to make—I’m not arguing Fury is infallible. One of the most contentious points of the season is its failure to flesh out newly introduced characters. Understandably, it irks fans of previous seasons’ characters who feel that energy could’ve been used to create plot for them instead. With the mfb we have now, however, I don’t think there’s a catch-all solution to redistribute the roles they were going for. My pet theory is that they had to adapt the characters the mfb manga introduced, and they were given little to no character there either, so at least the show writers gave it a shot, however low of a bar it is to reach. The depth they gave was lacking though, no arguments there.

I personally dislike the explanation they gave in-series for why the first encounter with Nemesis ended with Nemesis being brought back to life. Why bother making a big deal of the power-sapping stadiums and Chris and Aguma “sacrificing” power to nemesis’ revival if they were just going to go “you’re all fucked bc nemesis takes power from everyone you’ve battled in the past”?? It sets up an unsatisfying conclusion when the entire exposition they were yapping on and on about the union of all legendary bladers. Even more insane they just made Rago a legendary blader, it was stacked against them (in-story, bc we all know the show will definitely make up a justification for the protagonists’ victory one way or another) from the start lmao.

As for perceived superiority: I think Fury portrays “legendary bladers” as superior in varying degrees. Superior in power? Maybe. Superior in character? Debatable. The emphasis placed on the power of legendary bladers in-series, aside from being a cool title, is because you kind of are forced to make nice with the only other people lucky enough to be given power by a large rock to save the world. I agree that part of “choosing” is forced.

Ultimately, however the “heroes” we end up with are convinced, they do manage to put aside their differences (if briefly) for the common goal of not letting the world end. Not every single character was forced, and not every single character agrees immediately, so I think that aspect is somewhat balanced.

I also agree the theme of community could’ve been executed better if plot relevance wasn’t funneled to characters based on whether the large rock chose them or not. Fury could have executed many things better, but what I was mostly getting at here is that the idea of community is not entirely nonexistent in/abandoned by the season, in spite of its numerous other faults.

The concept of legendary bladers was such bullshit how are you gonna spend two seasons going "heros are made not born and power comes from community and there are no chosen ones" and then throw all of that in the trash as soon as you need a new plotline

[nonbinary-androids]

Was thinking about The Iron Trial and wow. The Magisterium just really, fully, legally, whole-heartedly kidnapped Call, didn't they

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[thekittyokat]

Hi! Please please please, could you tell me more about your coffin chain ideas?/nf

I am obsessed but barely anybody has jumped onto the ship yet and I am VERY new to the fandom so I wanna wait with making it myself until I know more lol. You are lowkey fueling this entire operations and I wanna thank you for that either way.

(rubs my paws together) you have no idea what you've unleashed anon i've been holding onto this ask specifically bc i've been sapping dopamine from it like a little leech waiting until i had time to hastily doodle up a little dynamics timeline for different stages of the ot4

i REALLY hope this makes sense . i feel the need to say this every time i post abt coffinchain but my ideas are rly specific and i've had time for them to infect my brain like mold so i'm defo ready to accept this all being rly niche and really just for me and like 3 other people

buuut if this little peek into my mind speaks to ANY of y'all i absolutely encourage implore and beg you to send me asks and ideas and whatnot about these 4 bastards literally whenever you want!!

TL;DR one half of the trauma bonded couple reaches out and forms an immediate kinship with the big scary guy that no one likes & convinces his petty boyfriend to let him fw them. then he starts bringing his deranged fbi otter around they start double-dating only for it to become a situationship and then the worst polycule ever

[lord-squiggletits]

I'm not completely opposed to making Pharma a weird guy in general pre-Messatine, the main issue I have with it is that a lot of that type of fandom is less "what if he was just a weird little guy" and more seems to be written with the implication that Pharma went crazy because he was just always a little crazy (or a little evil, or a little heartless, etc). Basically, to me it downplays the fact that Pharma underwent massive trauma for two years straight that other characters barely survived for a few hours/days and instead frames Pharma snapping as some sort of... I don't know, genetic/fated downfall because he was just weird, he was always off, is it really any wonder Pharma ended up Like That because I mean there was always something a little weird about him.

It just seems to accidentally imply that Pharma snapping under the pressure of years of torture was some sort of moral failing or sign of him being weak/immoral. You know, Pharma was always kind of a little creepy/insane/evil deep down which is obviously why he killed people. If he were just a normal, not-weird, good person then he would've been mentally strong enough to Not Go Insane. Like uhhhh it just seems kind of fucked up to imply that the reason some people are unable to cope with long-term trauma and have violent/unhealthy coping behaviors is because there's just something innately wrong with them, and then try and look back on their whole life trying to contextualize how they were actually unstable and evil all along instead of just accepting that like. Normal people (tm), yes normal and good people, can be put in situations where they're slowly turned into broken monsters because they had no escape and no good choices.

And also it's equally fucked up to imply that like. Whether or not you can deal with psychological torture without snapping is some sort of function of how innately moral or mentally strong you are. Incredibly victim-blamey to basically go "well the reason Pharma went insane is because he was just always cracked in the head, unlike our good buddy-pal-friend-hero Ratchet who's the perfect doctor and a good Autobot who's never done anything wrong which is why when he's an asshole/hurts people he's not nearly as destructive or Weird About It."

It's not that "Pharma was always kind of crazy" can't be done, because anything can be written well with enough thought. But I think in terms of writing, it's a very difficult and nuanced line to balance and most people literally just can't do it without implying that trauma victims/mentally ill people are evil or something. And Pharma is already unfairly villainized enough as-is, and in canon his trauma was already downplayed in favor of "haha crazy doctor chainsaw go brrr look how weird and quirky and craaaazyyy he is." So it's one of those things where 1. Most people just aren't good enough to write it and 2. "Always a little crazy" Pharma is already oversaturated enough in the fandom anyways and it's enough of a battle to get people to recognize that he's a tragic character and not just an evil asshole.

[king-spite]

so it seems the poppy war has become my absolute favorite series so ofc i'm losing my mind comparing every scene with my other favorite series (red queen) and making an unfathomable amount of headcanons

[thebestusernamepossible]

Literally going insane, might have to write fanfic for the first time in 2 years because the people™️ do not get my favorite female characters like I do and I feel the insurmountable urge to write her. I’m going to bite drywall why don’t ppl see her complexities. PLEASE STOP WRITING HER ETHIER AS DOMICILE MOM OR BITCH (or just for shipping) she is so so cool please guys please.

Also while I’m here, fandoms tendency to shove women in the ‘pure powerful goddess who can do no wrong’ box and then proceed to never give them an actual narrative role other than like ‘supportive’ or ‘took out a few background guys’. Like why DOES this incredibly badass and complex female character just get shunted into doinging some cool flips, getting praised about it (she’s the strongest fighter, so feminist wow) then never getting actnowleged as a 2 dimensional character.

I saw this a lot when I was in the Batman fandom, particularly with Cassandra Cain. She is a highly complex and interesting character, but in fandom she’s kind of shunted to ‘Badass therapy dog who takes care of the men’. Because even on the slight chance her backstory is brought up it’s always never delved into and mostly used to make her etheir more tragic and in need of support on a surface level or to let her be compassionate with the men characters who get their actual problems foucused on. It’s a unqiue kind of frustrating because it’s like almost letting the cool female character be cool, but it’s more like the idea of a badass women is shoved in your face, maybe joked about (or if we’re lucky she gets to beat up a few bad-guys), but ultimately treated like a cardboard cutout. Interestingly this actually isn’t entirely a female character thing, it’s also common with like old grandfather/grandmother characters and the elderly in general. But it’s usually badass women from what I see. :/ Why can’t fandom explore their stories (people do but why is it so much less), why can’t they be the prtags of cool AUs or time-travel fix-its, or crossover events

Idk I think I’m just frustrated, and I typed out more than I thought I would. Also Ive seen what happens to some other posts complaining about fandom misogyny, so please know if you’re a TERF, fuck off you have no place in this discussion. We will never agree, and frankly all of these points apply to canon Trans Women characters. Don’t say shit ill fucking end you.

[sieglinde-freud]

ive probably talked about it before but there is obviously an inherent tragedy when it comes to the awakening second gen that is present in all of their characters, but some of them are definitely more comic relief-y than others? which is fine but i think the funniest thing ever is the devs making inigo fire emblem almost entirely a gimmick haha funny character (with like. TWO exceptions in his supports and those two exceptions are literally just his parents) and then realizing “hey people kinda like this guy. lets switch it up a bit for the dlc” and then made like. the best character in the world. like who knew all people needed to enjoy the womanizer trope was to drop him in situations where flirting was no longer an option. then come fates hes like a whole different guy (in a good way!) which, yes you can chalk up to him growing up, but theres a clear difference in how he was written and how selena and odin were written in the same guy and you can just see how the writers were like “holy shit we struck gold with this one” like its crazy hes crazy hes my favorite guy in the world. AND HES STILL FUNNY

[rubberduckyrye]

You ever see a post that you agree with and you wanna add on your own two cents but your brain is like "Hmmmm.... nah. I wanna watch House MD clips instead."

[ratatatastic]

do you write fic on ao3?

unfortunately for everyone involved i do!

[itwoodbeprefect]

happy 1 year anniversary to the election results that were so fucked they had me trying to take my mind off of things by watching what seemed like a toxic chinese queerbait show only to find something far more thoughtful and genuinely queer and interesting than expected and end up watching a bunch more unrelated things that are talked about in vaguely the same realms of the internet and then watch bad buddy twice in a row and fall into an endless bingewatch of thai media (some of which is mediocre, some of which is bad, much of which is simply pretty good, and some of which is genuinely incredible) and go, well, it would be a waste of all this language input i'm accidentally giving myself right now if i didn't at least learn a few words. thus accidentally locking myself into watching even more thai media because now i gain serotonin from hearing a sentence i know i could write