#ONLY BE FULFILLED BY PUTTING THEIR ONLY CHILD IN DEATHS WAY. AND THEN WHEN SHE TOOK THAT RISK THE WORST THING HAPPENED AND SHE NOW HAS TO

[rangertessadarling]

I've mentioned this headcanon before, but Will absolutely wrote poetry. A lot of poetry. It started as a coping mechanism, he just really enjoyed putting any dark thoughts or feelings of his in a literary way that made it beautiful. After a while, though he just wrote because he loved writing, he loved the fulfillment it gave him when he turned a depressing thought or a traumatizing experience into a beautiful cadence. Sometimes he would put a melody to it and play them on the mandola for Alyss, love poems, dark poems, poems that didn't even fully make sense to him.

He also wrote several about Halt, and their relationship, although Halt never heard/saw them.

Poetry for Will was a way to put his complicated feelings into words, it was a feeling of closure to have his feelings down on paper.

After Alyss' death, he stopped writing, because he was ashamed of his feelings, and didn't even know how to put them into words, he had never had that issue before, which only served to make the sinking feeling worse.

After the Ruhl incident, and after his emotional blockage was healed, he wrote a poem. It was short, but scathing, and something that Will hoped no one ever read for the sake of his own reputation, they would think he was crazy, or murderous or both. But lets be fair, he kind of was.

He ended up burning that first poem. But he was glad he wrote it.

The rest of his poems were about Alyss. Every. Single. One. Even when he tried to write one about Maddie or about Halt or Pauline, they always drew back to Alyss, she was the denouement of every one of his stories. The resolution he couldn't not write.

Even after Will's own death, when Maddie found all his poetry, the poetry that was written on napkins, the backs of mission reports, stationary, scrap paper. Anything he could find. It was all shoved in a box under the loose wood board in the living room, momentarily forgotten.

But Maddie wouldn't let them be permanently lost to time.

She published them. Not all of them, just the ones that she felt symbolized quite clearly who Will Treaty was, and what he stood for.

Not the intimidating and hard man that some people knew him as through stories of his adventures, but as a man who suffered a great deal of immense transformation throughout his life. He was a clueless curious teenager, a cheeky and astute young man, and a melancholic, yet well-fortified ranger. He was a man who was oftentimes so overwhelmed with his feelings, that he let them spill onto physical paper to arrange them in a way that made sense.

Sometimes they didn't make sense, and Maddie speculated that those arcane poems probably wouldn't ever be interpreted in the way that Will wrote them, but that added to the reflection of who he was.

A man who never quite grew out of the 'feeling too much' stage as a boy.

A man who felt things as a child in a way no one would understand.

A man who never quite grew up.

[peachyutdr]

i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D

[one-piece-aus]

What would marriage life would be like with the seven warlords?

This is an old anon request, I do apologize for not getting to it sooner but here we go

What Marriage Life Would Be Like With the Seven Warlords (Headcanons)

It's pretty chill being married to Mihawk

Y'all just vibe in a mansion on an isolated island

I imagine Mihawk is a person of quality time and acts of service so the two of you would often spend time together

Whether it's reading in your library or cooking dinner for each other, every moment you do together and action you do for him is cherished in Mihawk's heart, even if he doesn't mention it

He makes sure you're healthy and well (eating properly, making sure you get your sleep)

This man will be able to instantly tell if your state is the slightest bit off and will not hesitate to voice his concern

He is not opposed to having children, the idea might amuse him

In fact, after Zoro and Perona had made their appearance, Mihawk grew fond of the idea taking care of his own child, even if they would be irritating at times

Btw, Zoro and Perona think you two act like an old married couple ❤

Only way this would be possible is if you are someone like Luffy

She might not understand exactly what marriage life means but she will do her best to make you happy

She is going to cook for you and feed you

She will bathe you and make sure you have the best clothes to wear

And she will order the best doctors to bring you back to your best health if you get sick

She is taking ✨amazing✨ care of you

The two of you are just living the life of luxury regardless of where you choose to live because you two are together and happy

You will not have kids (for a number of reasons that I will not get into because this is supposed to be a fun post)

Alright, I had no idea what to do for Moria so I asked @ask-the-night-crowl for these headcanons, thank you again Snugs

In a marriage, Moria would totally rely on his partner to fulfill all the duties he has/ should be responsible for. Granted, the other mysterious four already take over most of those, but someone has to keep them all in check.

His spouse better not be aversed by his crew, because for as much as he says he doesn't care about these idiots, he would also face death to protect them.

Unless him and his s/o have known eachother for a pretty long time, he'll try to keep them at an arm's length. Not necessarily because they don't have good enough of a connection, but the idea of loss is always on his mind.

He doesn't mind affection. In fact, he'll back-handedly seek it out by annoying his s/o until they give him attention if he so desires. He's pretty much like an oversized cat.

On the other hand, you'll also have to be prepared not to see him for days on end, because of his sleeping habits (Again, like a cat).

But in that time, cuddling with him is totally fine, because once that man is out, he sleeps like a rock.

His frequent nightmares might lead to the conclusion that comforting him would be the answer. But he hates the idea of being treated as weak as that and would much rather appreaciate the mere presence of his s/o when he wakes up next to them.

In contrast, he'll offer the same to his s/o when they feel down and would have an immediate (even petty) grudge against anyone harming them.

Staying in with him at a fireplace, drinking fancy wines and making fun of the other warlords would be his favorite way to spend time when he's awake for once.

If the spouse is good at cooking, you can bet they'll become his personal chef - after all, love goes through the stomach amirite.

If you're marrying Doffy, his family comes as a package deal, you can't have him without it, that being said, he expects you to get along with them (you can tolerate them instead but just don't let him notice)

Of course, he will expect you to take care of Baby 5, Buffalo, and Dellinger as if they were your children, he is open to making blood offsprings, but never put them before him

Doffy is your number 1 priority, whatever he says goes

But just because he's demanding doesn't mean he won't show you affection, in fact, most of his demands is just him wanting to give or receive affection

You are showed in gifts and luxury, he is the king of Dressrosa afterall, your word has every weight as his own since your are his queen

He is proud to show off his spouse, you are his most prized possession after all

However, you are more than just a trophy, after the loss of his dear mother and brother, he holds you close and tells you how dear you are to him every night

You are often woken up in the middle of the night due to his rustling from nightmares, just hold him to calm him down

Crocodile keeps you in the dark about his work, for all you know, he is a casino owner in Alabasta that keeps the people safe from pirates since he's a warlord

He takes you out for a stroll around in the evening, outside to admire the stars, or in the casino where your every need is met

He doesn't show affection in public but his gestures do show you belong to him and no one else

He keeps you company in bed at night until you fall asleep but when you wake up, he is not there, he's working as always

When see him next, he'll have a gift for you, an apology for not being able to always be around as he is a very busy man, but he'll make it up to you

I imagine it would be comfortable, like little cottage in nature kind of comfy

You both would wake up in the morning with a nice cup of tea

Your place would be clean and organized

You'd receive lots of comforting hugs and cuddles

Life would be peaceful

Until strawhat crew comes knocking on your door

Don't quite have any ideas for Kuma so... This is end, I hope you enjoy anon, and thank you for requesting

[erosia-rhodes]

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

[vivacissimx]

The puzzle piece about Rhaegar that is really interesting but unfortunately often overlooked is that he was relieved when he realized he was not TPTWP. Yes, relieved. Conflicted too which I will get into. And I believe it is obvious that when Rhaegar first read about Aegon's prophecy, he was not enthused— It seems I must be a warrior is trotted out to talk about Rhaegar's gender expression, his disconnect with capital m Masculinity that is purposely contrasted to Robert Baratheon reveling in it (indeed only making sense within the context of violence, battle, war) but there is more to the compulsion involved in the words It seems and I must than just It seems I must become an archetype. Socially becoming a fighter was already expected of him but he was not, presumably, in compliance with this expectation. The prophecy motivated him in a different way than you will be socially rewarded for acting as a man does.

Which brings me to another point i.e. how Rhaegar perceived himself prior to reading what he read; his connection to the tragedy of his birth and the grief, the resentment, the awkward dynamics between members of his family. "Oh he was a child" yes but we're told that Rhaegar did not act like, think like, or even particularly get along with others his age. So it's safe to say he was aware of Summerhall and felt it's shadow surrounding him from a young age. And Aegon's prophecy, combined with the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy, the events of Summerhall, put this weight on his shoulders completely into context. It was not that Rhaegar desired to be TPTWP because he took to it with determination but no particular joy. Every indicator just seemed to demand he give himself over to fulfilling this role. TPTWP was coming from Aerys and Rhaella's line? Well, he was their only child. Consult Maester Aemon on the matter? Yeah kid it's you. Ancient scrolls? Dusty, but they agree. Dead ancestors? Oh wait, they died so YOU could live. Woah.

This understanding basically necessitates us looking to ASOS Daenerys who also has some knowledge of TPTWP prophecy, and thanks to the Rhaegar-Daenerys pipeline, we can imagine that Rhaegar had similar thoughts to Daenerys, such as when she asks herself: The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. Who are Rhaegar's fellow two heads? Daenerys wonders at this, telling Jorah that her brothers are dead. Well Rhaegar's brothers die too, right in front of him. Rhaella suffers miscarriage after stillbirth after crib death. She is punished for this by Aerys via isolation and presumably Rhaegar is also kept separate from her— textually we know that Rhaegar was expected to take a sister to bride, i.e. further targcest was going to be enforced by Aerys, and to Rhaegar the loss would have also been of the other two people who would have fulfilled the requirements of the prophecy. Yes that's true. However, it was also the loss of his mother.

Rhaella was 13 when she had Rhaegar so it would be ridiculous to even think that she, a child, a Queen from when Rhaegar was 3, was this grand maternal figure to him. Of course she wasn't. There was too much on her shoulders. Too much on Aerys's shoulders as well, to be any sort of father except the kind who trotted Rhaegar out as an impressive little heir from time to time. Rhaegar was Aerys's success (it's the duty of the patriarch to sire sons who will continue the line) but as Rhaegar's siblings failed to survive, that success became a dicey thing. So when Viserys was born & survived, there is a thought that Rhaegar would latch onto such a sibling. This isn't the case— in fact, Viserys is Rhaella's. She coddles him. Keeps him close. Safe from Aerys (who already has Rhaegar). Viserys tells Dany stories about Rhaegar but this is done in the sense that he does not truly know Rhaegar. Why wouldn't Rhaegar have spent more time with Viserys, if he was motivated by fulfillment of the prophecy?

Because Viserys was Rhaella's, perhaps. Rhaegar never truly got to be his mother's son. To leech Viserys away from her... there's something in that. When Rhaella warmly welcomed Rhaegar's daughter, too. Rhaella's was Aerys's wife and property, which Rhaegar knew because he was also Aerys's property. Rhaella was mother to his brother. Rhaella was a grandmother to his daughter. She was everything but the woman who raised him.

"Rhaegar was a lonely man anyway due to his depression" yes that's true. There is an asceticism to Rhaegar Targaryen. The places he enjoys are bare and stripped, places he can keep his own company: Summerhall, the place of his birth, haunted, full of magic. Dragonstone where he retreats after his marriage, a place where the last embers of Valyria's magic died. Later the Tower of Joy is in a barren desert. But he finds a beauty in these places. He writes music that pushes him back into the shared world, songs he shares with people, about people, about lovers and those who sacrificed and who he is deeply moved by— almost like he's motivating himself. People are drawn to him.

Despite his lack of connection to Rhaella and Viserys he does bond with people. Arthur Dayne, who for all we can try and complicate, apply horseshoe theory to, is meant as the juxtaposition to characters such as the Smiling Knight. Brave as brass Myles Mooton whose memory his people still call upon. Richard Lonmouth and Jon Connington, both technically vassals to Robert Baratheon, funny little irony there. Princess Elia his wife who he is fond of along with the Dornishmen she comes to court with, "particularly" Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard, who is in Rhaegar's confidence (per AWOIAF). These bonds seem strong because not a whiff of possible disloyalty on Rhaegar's part ever reaches Aerys despite it definitely existing and Aerys actively looking for it (again per AWOIAF). Do these confidantes know about Aegon's prophecy? IDK. At least in JonCon's case the answer seems to be no. However we also know JonCon wasn't actually the closest to Rhaegar. Nonetheless, I think we can assume that outside of Arthur Myles and Richard most of these were political relationships which Rhaegar pursued and all were concerned about Aerys's instability— there is also Tywin who Rhaegar performs certain overtures towards (such as knighting Gregor, Tywin's man, at a time when the Aerys-Tywin relationship had just grown particularly sour) indicating he'd like him as an ally. This is all straying away from TPTWP but I think it's important, it shows that even imbued with purpose, Rhaegar was in a position that did not lend itself towards him being able to take much action...

Then winter breaks. Spring comes. Nobody knows it's false yet. Rhaegar's whole deal is this coming Long Night. Everyone takes, quite literally, a breath of fresh air, and the tourney of Harrenhal commences, with Rhaegar as a shadow sponsor, thinking to call an informal Great Council which will begin to deal with Aerys (step 1)(step 1 failed).

This is where matters of prophecy come back into focus. I've covered Rhaegar's various relationships, the shallowness of them, the stagnancy in Developments due to Aerys's paranoia, etc. Harrenhal is not a solitary place but it is flush with magic in a way similar to Summerhall and Dragonstone— all places where dragons have died Harrenhal is thematically the cannibal dragon let's not get into that. And this is important to Rhaegar's characterization because of how things unfold with Lyanna Stark in several ways: 1) Lyanna cries to his song. Before they formally meet Lyanna is touched by the magic and purpose and sacrifice and yes, love, of which Rhaegar sings. It speaks to her. Of course, many others likely cried too. Common occurrence, see: A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course. Rhaegar gender moment but I digress. 2) Rhaegar's discovery of her as the KOTLT despite Robert & Richard Lonmouth both vowing to do so, those raucous manly men, both of whom failed; Rhaegar's subsequent hiding of her identity to unknown consequence for himself if any. All he produces is her shield which is painted with a tree on it, a purposeful callback to Duncan the Tall's shield, both Lyanna and Dunk being 'false knights' yet, in their actions, true ones. Sorry I love Lyanna so much I can't resist plugging her greatest hits 3) Rhaegar winning the tourney, the only tourney he's ever won... and immediately tainting his victory by awarding it to Lyanna instead.

I bring this all up and frame it because here we see that Rhaegar is not really invested in his own victory or legacy or even really his honor. His wife Princess Elia is there and she is pregnant with his son, something he could commemorate in the same vein that Aerys "honored" Rhaegar by showcasing him at various tourneys, an ode to a future warrior king, but Rhaegar doesn't do that. It's not his victory as a Man. It's never been about his victory as a Man. It doesn't even need to be his victory.

Neither does Aegon's prophecy. Rhaegar rapidly realizes that on two fronts: second, the false spring ends. It wasn't real! Rhaegar's spring isn't the lasting one. First, though, is that Rhaegar and Elia's son Aegon is born, a difficult birth in which Elia is rendered infertile. Who does this remind you of? Oh right, Aerys with Rhaella— only Rhaegar does not go about trying to impregnate Elia again. Rhaegar becomes convinced Aegon is TPTWP— something he was already thinking, prior. Rhaegar was never so invested in himself being TPTWP that he could not be convinced otherwise. Maester Aemon: Rhaegar, I thought... the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. Rhaegar agreeing "when he was young" and being "certain the bleeding star had to be a comet" all indicate that he had been looking into the possibility that TPTWP was Not Him for a while. The visits to Summerhall— maybe they were a search for proof by encasing himself in the lingering magic of the place? He still messed up the prince/princess translation presumably because baby Rhaenys never seemed to be in the conversation. (The bleeding star was in fact a comet, funnily enough, a little consolation prize for the pretty boy.) Here's what we know: in Daenerys's vision, Elia asks if Rhaegar will write Aegon a son, we can assume because he wrote their firstborn Rhaenys a song, but Rhaegar says no, he already has one. The song of ice and fire. Aegon doesn't get a song. Why? Rhaegar believes he must be a warrior.

Yet, he sings for him anyway.

Rhaegar's "it seems" and "I must" and distance from Viserys and inner conflict about Aerys and doubt about his own place in the grand scheme of things all come to fruition with Aegon's birth. Rhaegar isn't TPTWP— and it spurs him into action. A weight is off his shoulders so now he can act. As in the case of crowning Lyanna, when the purpose of a task is not to honor or elevate him, we see Rhaegar able to perform in ways he could not before.

Namely there are two veins: acting against Aerys and seeking out information of the prophecy, but Rhaegar's general direction (through the Riverlands past Harrenhal) seems to indicate that he was headed towards the Ghost of High Heart. Not Summerhall, a place of mysticism meant to soothe Rhaegar. Rather a place of pain. The Ghost of High Heart who gorged on grief at Summerhall, who only ever demands Jenny's song (which Rhaegar seems to have wrote), who sees in Arya who looks like Lyanna, who looks like Jon, death. But instead of ever making it there... Rhaegar meets Lyanna.

And then they disappear. There are the Rhaegarwars to consider so I'm just going to say that, at the least, Lyanna did not want to marry Robert though society dictated that she must, and in removing her, she was removed from this. From there she came to be in Dorne in a place that was desolate desert, but similar to Summerhall, which was also abandoned, held something of magic in that it was near where Those Who Sing The Song of the Earth had split the Arm of Dorne. We can say a lot more about this but that's not the point of the post. I have explained Rhaegar as a person disconnected from his mother, later a person who in several manners refuses to act as Aerys did towards Rhaella, indicating that disconnect troubled him — Rhaegar's limited amount of close relationships with people he admired and the deep loyalty shown to him, presumably for a reason — Rhaegar's willingness to interrogate himself & his assumptions about the world.

So when I say Rhaegar was relieved what I mean is that upon suspecting and, to his mind, confirming that he was not the fulfillment of Aegon's prophecy, Rhaegar became proactive in ways he had yearned for but not been able to before. The Rhaegar that died with Lyanna's name as his last word was not a Rhaegar who died thinking the world was doomed without him. I think the Rhaegar that died on the Trident was a Rhaegar who had escaped the shadow of fate only to meet it, face to face.

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER THREE : Second visit of the Death

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Two is here.

Pairing : Sub-Zero | Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Adapting to life within the Lin Kuei clan, you notice significant differences between their ways and those of your own clan. The tension around Bi-Han’s demeanor persists, and you feel at a loss about how to approach him. Despite the challenges, you’re surprised by the Lin Kuei’s compassionate side. However, an ordinary tea takes an unexpected dark turn, and the consequences become dire.

Author’s Note : I use both Sektor’s and Cyrax’s appearances from the MK9 game. Frost is also here. All of them are human in this story.

Warning : Details about violence & poisoning

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Many years ago...

On a cold autumn night, when the last yellow leaves on the trees were falling to the ground and the scent of snow wafted through the air, you came face to face with death for the first time.

You were a little girl, just about to turn six. Though your imagination was vast, your feet were always firmly planted on the ground. As the only daughter of the clan’s grandmaster, you knew a different life awaited you compared to other children, and you had a responsibility to fulfill those expectations. It was your duty.

At the same time, you also understood that your father had never loved you like your other siblings. Yet, you didn’t realize there was a deeper hatred underneath, one that could turn your life upside down from that night on.

Could a father harbor such a significant grudge against his own child? It appeared that your father was nurturing something sinister.

Just before the assassin came to your room, although you didn't hear footsteps, your ability to control shadows made you aware of a visitor outside the door. It immediately put you on high alert, pulling you out of the sweet embrace of sleep.

You knew that no one would approach your room secretly and quietly like this at this time of night. One of your small hands gripped the hunting knife you always kept under the pillow.

Even though your younger brother had started basic martial training with the others, your father excluded you, insisting you didn't need it. Instead, you were taught etiquette, manual skills, and other noble womanly pursuits.

So, you didn’t know how to defend yourself, but you observed others training from afar. There was also a knife your mother had given you, tightly held between your fingers. She had always warned you never to let the knife stray far, and for the first time, you felt fortunate that you kept that promise.

A year ago, you were given a single room as you were deemed old enough and had to leave your parents. For the first time, your room seemed intimidating and vast to your eyes.

Finally, a decrepit human figure emerged from the shadows, and you held your breath. Your vision blurred with tears from panic, and your heart pounded with adrenaline, causing your lower jaw to tremble under the influence of the fear you felt. You had never experienced such fear in your short life – a pure fear that made your whole body tremble and made you want to sob.

Everything erupted in an instant. Things happened so fast that you didn't even get a chance to understand.

When the assassin deftly cut your exposed throat with a swift movement, your entire world came to a halt. Blood splattered around your chin like a red dye. The pain was so intense that you choked on the blood rushing to your mouth, and tears, previously restrained, quickly overflowed from your eyes.

The air became thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the room seemed to spin in a disorienting dance of shadows and crimson. Your fingers, trembling, clutched at the bedsheets, stained with the evidence of your struggle. The moonlight cast eerie reflections on the walls, mirroring the fading flicker of your consciousness.

Coughing and attempting to breathe, you struggled as your vision blurred. The pain was sharp, and your vision quickly darkened, fading into nothingness. It felt like someone was dimming the light of a lamp, and you believed the end had come. To die in your own bed, at the hands of an assassin—it was too cruel an end.

Amidst your closing eyes, you vaguely heard your mother's screams. Everything disappeared into a black, deep void, and the pain vanished, merging into the darkness as if it had never existed.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself staring at the familiar ceiling of your room. Standing still for a few minutes, you couldn't comprehend what was happening. Was the entire ordeal a horrific nightmare? When you attempted to straighten up in confusion, moving your neck even slightly brought such a sharp pain that tears instantly filled your eyes.

Frozen in fear of the pain returning, the sliding door of the room opened, and your mother and the clan doctor entered, expressing concern from every angle.

"(y/n)! Thank God you're awake!"

As your mother rushed inside and opened her arms, carefully embracing you, tears began to flow. Silent sobs shook your small frame as she stroked your hair and tried to comfort you with her sweet words. Hugging your mother more tightly, you sought refuge, as if trying to hide from the entire world in her embrace.

Since birth, the only place you felt safe was in your mother's arms. Only there could you express yourself authentically, unreservedly showing your feelings. Your mother was the only person in the entire clan who accepted you completely.

"Don't cry, my beautiful girl, it's all over now. Your father took care of the assassin, nothing like this will happen again. Don't worry at all."

After your mother placed a loving kiss on the top of your head, she stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. When you tried to speak, she silenced you by placing a gentle finger on your lips.

‘’No, you are forbidden to speak until your throat heals,” your mother declared.

Following her words, the doctor carefully explained what you should and shouldn’t do, framing it in a way that you could understand. Listening with fearful eyes, every swallow was a painful reminder of the wound in your throat. Could you speak again after such an injury? The possibility felt shrouded in uncertainty.

According to the doctor, you would start to regain the ability to speak in five or six months, but the pain persisted, as sharp as if the knife that cut your throat had never left. It was enough to extinguish hope, as fragile as a candle flame.

And that was exactly what happened.

As the days transformed slowly into weeks and the weeks into months, you learned to live with the pain—or perhaps "adapt" would be a more accurate term. Coming from a warrior clan where your father held the position of the grandmaster, you never wanted to overshadow his glory with your weakness.

Despite your young age and stature, you always tried your best. When the dosage of painkillers decreased over time and the pain intensified, that's when you began using your power for the first time.

The shadows became your allies—a refuge for the weakness, pain, tears, and the loneliness of not being around anyone except your mother. You learned to conceal all these emotions in the shadows.

For a long time, you were afraid to sleep alone in your room. However, explaining the situation to your father seemed more frightening, so you began hiding in the shadows created by moonlight in your room. You learned to console yourself from nightmares in which you woke up sobbing.

Feeling safe in the dark world felt strange at first. You had never liked the dark—your brothers would sometimes use shadows to scare you or tell scary stories, intensifying your fear. But this time, darkness began to feel like a friend rather than an arch-enemy.

When it all became too overwhelming, the darkness became your new cocoon where you felt safe. This bond with your power was established as the only way you could sleep at night. You didn't know exactly how to use it yet, or what it was capable of, but you became skilled at hiding yourself.

This newfound ability allowed you to rebuild the confidence you had lost over time. You still harbored fear of your father, your brothers, and anyone else bigger and taller than you, as well as sudden noises and movements. However, it brought comfort to know you had a place to hide from everyone.

A year later, a scar adorned your throat, a reminder of that fateful moment, but speaking remained an act you were afraid to perform. On the other hand, as promised by your mother, there was no further attempt on your life, and your father decided that you should train with your brothers.

Then, one morning, when you woke up late due to your nightmares, you discovered the truth. . Transporting through the shadows to move silently, you stumbled upon your instructors whispering quietly among themselves as they headed to the training ground.

It was none other than your own father who had attempted to kill you.

Today...

Thanks to Bi-Han's guidance, you easily found the kitchen.

You had been hungry for so long that nausea had set in, prompting you to seek out the kitchen to put an end to it. On this pretext, you also wanted to take the opportunity to explore comfortably while no one had started the day yet.

During your first night in your room, stress had gripped your body, preventing sleep. At some point, even though you couldn't decipher how it happened, your eyes closed. However, in that brief moment of sleep, you found no relief. Stress, anxiety, and all the negative factors from your mission led you straight to a memory you could never erase but tried to bury deep down.

You hadn't revisited the memories of your assassination for a long time, and you even thought you were getting past it. With no apparent reason to fear for your life – being successful in martial arts and trained to turn every disadvantage to your advantage – you believed you had control over your vulnerabilities. Yet, it seemed that under stress, your subconscious was still weak, dragging you back to times when you were incapable of self-protection.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to push the memories out of your mind. Upon finding the kitchen, you immersed yourself in breakfast preparation, only to be politely directed to the dining room by attendants responsible for the clan’s daily affairs.

As you looked at the chairs at the long table, hesitation crept in about where to sit. Bi-Han, as the grandmaster, should be seated at the head, and it would make sense for you to sit beside him as his wife. However, due to the tension between you, Bi-Han's presence felt dominating, even suffocating.

Moreover, you didn't want to risk sitting close to him after the insult he hurled about the bedroom issue the previous night. This time, you didn't want to be exposed in public simply because you sat next to him. Your pride had been wounded by his arrogant words and contempt for you from the very first day.

Therefore, you decided to secure yourself by opting to sit in one of the chairs in the middle. It wasn't long after you took your seat that Kuai Liang and Tomas, whom you recalled were Bi-Han's brothers, entered with another dark-skinned man. You remembered seeing him at the wedding ceremony but had no idea about his name.

All three of them seemed slightly surprised to see you but didn't hesitate to offer a small greeting with nods. You reciprocated with the same, along with a friendly smile and voice.

"Good morning."

Tomas, with his unusual gray hair that made his name easy to remember, was the first to respond to you.

"Good morning. I hope your first night here was comfortable."

When Kuai Liang jabbed Tomas hard with his elbow upon his words, Tomas realized the implication and raised his hands as if to say, ‘I am innocent,’ in a panic that contradicted the composure of a ninja. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his grayish light blue eyes widened with embarrassment.

"That's not what I meant! Please forgive my rudeness," Tomas hastily clarified.

The sincerity of his reaction made an unexpected soft giggle escape your lips.

‘’That’s okay.’’

‘‘I know well what it means to get used to a foreign place. I just-‘’

“I think she understood what you meant, Tomas,” the dark-skinned man interjected. Seating himself opposite you, on the cross side, he continued, “My name is Sam, but I prefer you to say Cyrax.”

‘’Pleased to meet you,’’ you greeted politely, your gaze wandering over the three of them. ‘‘You know my name, but we haven't had the opportunity to meet formally. My name is (y/n). I will be in your care from now on.’’

‘’Glad to meet you,’’ Kuai Liang said. Sitting next to Cyrax, Tomas took the chair beside you. The seating arrangements caught your attention – Kuai Liang sat right next to the head chair, while Tomas left it empty instead of taking the same position and settled in next to you. You couldn't decipher if someone else was supposed to sit in the third seat instead of Tomas.

‘’You are my brother's wife; it would not be right for me to sit there anymore,’’ Tomas whispered, audible only to you. Your hands, resting on your lap, clenched into fists. Though sliding to one side was a simple action, you didn't want to do it, and you had good reasons. Fortunately, no one commented on this issue.

‘’I can imagine it's not easy, but this is your home now. We don't have to inherit the hostility of our ancestors. This marriage has given us an opportunity to prove this.’’

Kuai Liang looked at you with a sympathetic smile, showing that he noticed the tension. His face resembled Bi-Han's, but not entirely. Kuai Liang's expression had a warmth that could be described as calm and friendly. His dark brown eyes were sharp like Bi-Han's, yet they also held a gentle modesty. The impression at first glance was that he was not an arrogant person.

‘‘You are now a part of the Lin Kuei clan, so please feel comfortable and safe. No one can hurt you here. Our word is an oath.’’

His words calmed the chaos within you a little, but they weren't enough to dispel it entirely. Trusting was a difficult act for you, having learned through an extremely painful experience not to lean on your family. Therefore, you could only thank Kuai Liang for his words.

As breakfast was served, the atmosphere was cozy, the food surprisingly good. Even though you just met these men, there was a comfort in their company. They included you in their conversation, making you feel like you’ve always been part of their group. No one questioned or spoke harshly to you.

But it’s crucial to remember—they’re your enemies. Despite what Kuai Liang said, the real reason behind this marriage was to eliminate them. They’re seemed friendly, which shocked you. After the coldness you experienced from Bi-Han, this warm welcome was unexpected. It left you feeling a bit bewildered, struggling to believe in their friendliness. The breakfast, the conversations, all felt a bit surreal, and you couldn’t shake off the surprise, unsure of their true intentions.

As you were about to take a small sip of your steaming green tea, you caught Tomas's curious gaze watching you. According to a ninja, Tomas could betray himself easily with his expressions.

“Is there something on my face?’’ you asked. Tomas cleared his throat and averted his gaze from you.

‘’It just feels strange to see someone new at this table after so many years.’’

‘’May I hope that it is a good oddity?’’

‘’Yes, yes, of course.’’

‘’I think the part that makes it strange is that it is connected with your brother. Am I wrong?’’ you asked in a polite voice.

‘’We knew that our grandmaster was getting married soon; this was a topic that had been on the table for a long time. It surprised us all that it was with the Tengu clan,” Cyrax mentioned, crossing his muscular arms on his chest. “Obviously, we didn’t expect him to accept.”

“But this was definitely instrumental in something good,” Kuai Liang remarked. He should have been the mediator among them. You had only been with them for half an hour, but it was enough for you to understand that the man had a rather optimistic outlook. “My brother is not an easy person; he is deeply attached to his habits and clan. But I believe that time can change everything. Your marriage will be a new beginning for all of us, I feel that way.”

Your lips curled in a forced smile. Yes, there was no doubt that it would be a new beginning, but it would be instrumental in a much different cause than what Kuai Liang hoped. Grasping the porcelain cup with both hands, you looked at your image reflected in the tea.

Your eyes were determined, yet they also looked so hopeless. You had deep doubts and concerns about this task, unsure if you were strong enough to cope with it all alone. All these unknowns suffocated you, strengthening the vortex of chaos inside you.

While taking another sip of your tea, the sliding doors opened, and Bi-Han and another unknown person entered, someone you only saw out of the corner of your eye during the ceremony.

Bi-Han's eyes found you directly, and upon noticing the chair you had chosen, his brows furrowed noticeably. The atmosphere of the room instantly became heavy; there was nothing left of the cozy atmosphere just moments ago. The cold breeze emanating from Bi-Han caused you to shiver slightly despite the thick clothes you were wearing.

You were sure that he did this on purpose; it would be ridiculous to think that someone with the title of grandmaster couldn't control his powers. If he was trying to intimidate you, it was clear that he failed. However, you weren't going to take your chances either. Even if his observation of your powerlessness annoyed you, you were set on turning this situation to your advantage for the time being.

‘’You're late today.’’

‘’I was making an assessment with Sektor about the training of our newly arrived initiates,’’ said Bi-Han, responding to Kuai Liang. "They’re determined, and I am sure they will understand the order here in a short time and behave accordingly.’’

He didn't take his eyes off you when he said that. Implicitly, you understood that these words were directed at you. You continued to sip your tea quietly, ignoring his presence, as if you had never heard what he was saying.

‘’I don't think we are likely to encounter a problem as long as they are properly directed,’’ Sektor added. He, too, had sat next to Tomas, facing Cyrax. You could read on their faces that everyone was quietly questioning the idleness of the chair next to you.

‘‘How did you find the breakfast?’’

Everyone's attention turned when Bi-Han suddenly changed the subject and directed his question directly to you in a cold voice. Although you were suddenly uncomfortable with the attention being turned on you, you didn't show it. You lifted your chin slightly and looked directly into Bi-Han's eyes, who was watching you.

‘’Everything was quite delicious and carefully prepared; I can't find a word to say,’’ you continued with a kind smile and a sweet voice. "Of course, I wish my tea could stay a little warmer.’’ You said. Because of the cold breeze emitted by Bi-Han, everything that was steaming, especially the tea, lost its temperature in minutes.

Bi-Han's eyebrows furrowed a little more against your words. Now an obvious line had formed in the middle of his two eyebrows.

‘’Maybe you're not doing the right thing to keep warm.’’

"Forgive me for my words, but it is very difficult to understand what is right and what is not under these circumstances.’’

‘’Are they still talking about tea?’’ When Tomas asked Sektor his question in a whispering voice, Kuai Liang covered his face with one hand and sighed deeply.

Bi-Han's gaze was sharp enough to cut someone in half, and even though the danger signals he emitted made your entire body tremble, you maintained your posture. If Bi-Han expected respect for his boundaries, he needed to acknowledge that mutual respect was essential, understanding that you wouldn’t be compelled to obey as others in the clan did.

"Leave me alone with (y/n).’’

At his command, they got up without a word, and you caught Tomas's worried gaze as he quietly left the room. His expression made you a little nervous, but you also had no choice but to confront Bi-Han.

‘’What do you think you're doing?’’ he snarled. You maintained your innocent expression and calmness. You could tell from his demeanor that your attitude annoys him.

‘“I am drinking my tea,” you replied, lifting the cup delicately.

“Don’t play the fool with me. Do you think you can make a mockery of me in front of my clan?” Bi-Han’s voice dripped with irritation.

‘’No, of course not. I was just answering your questions.’’

Bi-Han's gaze darkened even more. While his jaw contracted angrily, the cold air he emitted started to cover the table with a thin layer of ice.

‘’When you are with the others, you will act like my wife, obey me, and keep quiet.’’

“Then I advise you not to ask me questions that you don’t want to hear answered, Grandmaster. Because I will not hesitate to answer you, do not doubt about that.’’

‘‘I'm warning you for the last time, (y/n). Do not try to confront me; the continuity of this alliance depends entirely on you. You better keep that in mind.’’

‘’I have no such intention.’’ Gripping the cup harder, you tried not to let go of your control and maintain your calm. ‘‘But remember that as long as your hostile attitude towards me continues, you will be reciprocated in the same way. If you want me to act like your wife in front of others, I have the right to be respected by you in the same way.’’

Bi-Han remained silent. As the chill in the room gradually dissipated, warmth returned, and you, too, breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension ease.

“From now on, you will sit on the chair next to me,” he declared in an authoritative tone that brooked no objections. “Our rooms are separate, but aside from that, you will stand in the position and place where you should stand as a wife.”

‘’All right. Do you have another desire?’’

"Finish your breakfast; Sektor will introduce you to the surroundings so that you don't get lost again.’’

‘‘That's very thoughtful of you, thank you.’’

Bi-Han's expression seemed to break for a moment, as if he was enjoying your answer; his lips curled with a ghostly smile. He leaned back without taking his gaze away from you.

‘‘How do you like your room?’’

‘’Good.’’ You said it honestly. ‘’It is spacious and quite comfortable.’’

‘‘Then why did you have a nightmare?’’

‘’Wouldn't it be more strange if I didn't?’’ Leaving your cup on the table, you also sat back in the same way and crossed your arms on your chest. ‘‘My husband not only dragged me out of the room like a little child, he insulted me and closed the door in my face.’’

‘‘I told you not to call me that.’’ Bi-Han warned.

An eyebrow raised defiantly at him.

‘‘I'm just stating the truth; it didn't happen any differently from what I said last night.’’

‘‘I'm not the cause of your nightmare." Bi-Han's confident tone of voice caused you to be both surprised and angry. While he didn't want to be involved in his own business, his refusal to show the same sensitivity to you to the second time was getting on your nerves now.

‘’You're afraid.’’ Said Bi-Han. You answered him back instantly.

‘’I'm not afraid of you.’’

The edge of Bi-Han's lip formed into a faint smile.

‘’I didn't say you were afraid of me. You're a brave woman; I can't take credit for that.’’

Bi-Han slowly got up from where he was sitting, sat down on the chair next to you in one fluid move, and grabbed one of the legs of the chair you were sitting on, pulling it towards him so that you could stand in a way to see him.

Your body automatically tensed up against Bi-Han being so close all of a sudden. The cool air emanating from the cryomancer was not menacing this time; you could clearly smell its clean smell on the snow outside, and the gaze locked on it made you feel like you were once again nose to nose with a snow leopard.

So that's how the prey felt when the predator made eye contact with its prey. Aggressive and cornered... It was terrible to be the focus of staring eyes to catch the slightest vulnerability; if you didn't have the confidence and pride in your abilities, you would have already got up from the chair or pointed one of the knives at Bi-Han on the table.

‘’What scares you (y/n)?’’

Bi-Han's big hands, grasping the arms of the chair which you were sitting on, further triggered the feeling of being cornered.

‘’Am I under interrogation?’’ You asked, although your voice sounded calm, the underlying tense timbre was reflected in your voice.

‘‘It depends on how you want to evaluate this situation.’’

‘’It makes me feel quite interrogative. I thought you could ask your questions effectively without the need for them. I think I should add this behavior to the list, besides being rude.’’

‘’You think I’m rude?’’

‘He couldn't really have asked that.’ You thought. A grunt, uncharacteristic of a lady, escaped your lips.

‘’I can't say you're a very kind person. Look, Grandmaster, we all have our own demons. The fact that I come from a noble family does not change this fact. I'm not going to bother changing your thoughts about me, but I'm asking you, you can get the answers to your questions without being rude to me. Showing a little humanity won't take anything away from you.’’

Bi-Han's hands were covered with blue ice that momentarily turned white, freezing the arms of the chair he held. Recovering at an impressive speed, he retreated, regaining control over his powers. As he looked at you, a thin wisp of smoke rose from his lips, and he lowered his voice to a timbre audible only to you, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"You're hard-headed."

"I have to be." You replied in the same quiet tone, causing Bi-Han to frown.

"Finish your breakfast," he said after a while. "Sektor is waiting for you."

***

In the few days spent in the Lin Kuei clan, you gradually acclimated to the surroundings and order. However, differences between their ways and those of your own clan began to stand out.

One notable distinction was the training of female assassins. While they were fewer in number compared to men, it intrigued you to see them actively participating. In your clan, women were confined to domestic roles, regarded solely for lineage continuation. They were kept behind closed doors, learning little beyond simple crafts.

Here, the situation differed. Female assassins received the same martial arts training as their male counterparts. One, in particular, caught your attention—Frost. With striking white hair and pale skin, she stood out. Possessing cryomancer powers like Bi-Han, she didn't seem to like you but maintained a respectful nod when passing by, acknowledging your status as the grandmaster's wife.

Another point of interest was the tight security within the Lin Kuei clan. Despite your discreet observations, there were no visible vulnerabilities. Watchtowers, constantly patrolling ninjas, high stone walls, and warriors trained under Bi-Han's supervision made it a formidable fortress.

Solidarity among the clan brothers was unwavering, leaving no room for discord. Conversations ceased when you approached, and you were consistently kept out of their discussions. Despite efforts to keep it secret, the fact that you shared separate rooms with Bi-Han became known. Although it bothered you, you managed to cope with it for a while.

This isolation felt unlike anything you'd experienced before. Even in your own clan, while the atmosphere wasn't vastly different, at least there was a familiar layout and recognizable faces.

Every night, your old memories resurfaced, and sleep became increasingly elusive. The weight of the mission seemed heavier than anticipated, causing nightmares to haunt you regularly.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?"

Tomas's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him from where you were sitting.

‘’Oh, Tomas. I didn't hear you coming. Yes, I'm fine; I'm just lost in thought. Would you like to join me a little bit?’’

As you gestured to the empty cushion next to you, Tomas joined you with a small smile.

‘’I think I have time enough for a little company.’’

‘’That's great. How are the trainings going? I heard that some of the new members are under your responsibility.’’

"It's good, they're catching on quickly, but they still have a long way to go.’’

‘’I've had the opportunity to observe your training from time to time; you seem like a pretty good teacher. I'm sure they'll get the hang of it soon.’’

In response to your friendly compliment, Tomas's eyes sparkled with happiness, and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Among the brothers, Tomas was the easiest to decipher; you felt comfortable around him. Maybe it was because he was younger and more naive compared to others; there was a part of him that genuinely listened to what you were saying rather than analyzing you. That made it easier for you to get along with him.

‘’Thank you; it made me happy to hear all this. Have you gotten used to it here? I hope Bi-Han isn't causing you too much difficulty.’’

‘’I guess I'm getting used to it’.’ You said it in a low voice. After the conversation in the dining room a few days ago, Bi-Han's stern attitude hadn't changed, but you could notice that he was paying attention to the way he spoke a little. On the other hand, his gaze was still on you, analyzing you, his attitude was distant and cold. There has been no change in this regard.

When things were like this, you didn't know how to bound him to yourself; as your brother advised, it was the same as asking for the impossible.

‘‘I am glad to hear that. It seems difficult at first, but time somehow allows you to get used to it.’’

‘‘Tomas, I don't want you to misunderstand me, and please forgive me if I'm out of line. I heard something, you-‘’

Tomas stated, his typically expressive face now unreadable, sending a wave of unease through you.

“I’m sorry, I crossed the line,” you quickly apologized, sensing the sensitivity of the topic.

‘’No, no, no." Tomas shook his head from side to side and gave you a little smile that suppressed a lot of pain. ‘‘This incident happened many years ago. It's true that I'm not related to them by blood, but despite that, I wasn't raised any different from Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. Their family became my family too, they were always warm and understanding towards me. Time has allowed me to get used to both them and here. Of course, it wasn't as easy as I said.’’

‘’Considering where I come from, I don't know how good or convincing it will be for you to hear this from me, but I'm sorry for your loss.’’ You said with a bitter smile.

"Thank you, and you must stop thinking that way. You are not our enemy (y/n). Also, I always find it more correct to judge the person alone.’’

Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to understand what he is saying. As you pulled your knees to yourself, you gave Tomas a curious look.

‘‘How so?’’

‘’We can’t judge everyone the same way. Yes, it is true that you are part of the Tengu Clan, but you are a single individual. You have your own truths, wrongs, beliefs, and desires. At some point, you’re doing what your clan orders you to do, but that doesn’t mean you think the same as them. People are complex, (y/n). Life shapes us differently, and our experiences carve unique paths. Your actions might be guided by duty, but your thoughts and feelings are your own. That’s why I believe that everyone should be evaluated alone. This is the fair one for me.”

Tomas' words struck a chord in your heart that you never anticipated, a deep impact that sent unexpected ripples through your emotions. In an instant, tears welled up in your eyes, tracing a delicate path down your cheeks, catching you off guard. A surprised yet heartfelt smile played on your lips as the weight of Tomas's understanding resonated deeply within you.

Tomas, on the other hand, tried to calm you down, not knowing what to do with a horrified expression.

‘‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.’’

’’No," another wet chuckle spilled from your lips. ‘’Your words touched me, that's all. I'm fine, honestly, I wasn't expecting to cry either.’’

You've never seen such an approach in your clan, and the olive branch Tomas extended made you feel good, as well as unfamiliar. You wanted to be angry with yourself for being so easily impressed, but you couldn't, your cheeks were flushed with shame that you were so hungry for a few kind words. You wiped the tears from your cheeks while your heart ached with a heat that you couldn't help.

Was it really as easy as Tomas said?

At that time, a woman came to you with a tea tray in her hand, and the moment she realized that you werecrying, she hurriedly left what she had on the coffee table in the middle and handed you the handkerchief she took out of her pocket.

‘‘Here, use this, please.’’

Taking the handkerchief, you wiped your tears quickly. When you saw that the concern in Tomas' gaze didn't subside a bit, you smiled and patted his arm.

‘’I'm really fine, Tomas, you have a good and pure heart. That’s very rare so protect it, okay?’’

‘’You're forgetting that I'm a ninja.’’ Tomas said, returning to his relaxed attitude just now.

‘’But I know that you are serving a good and honorable purpose. You're protecting Earthrealm on behalf of Lord Liu Kang, isn't that right?’’

When Tomas' cheeks turned pink once again and he signaled his approval, your smile widened. Just then, the woman cleared her throat, recapturing your attention. With a gentle smile, she poured tea into a cup and extended it to you, offering it for you to take.

“I made ginger tea for you. It’s good for the cold weather,” the woman said. Despite looking strong and young, her voice hinted at a bit of age. “It’ll soothe you and make you feel better. The ginger has healing properties, a little something to fight the chill and keep you warm.”

‘’Oh, thank you, that's very thoughtful of you.’’

You took the cup between your hands with the happiness of the unexpected gesture. The warmth instantly spread from your fingertips to your hand, warming you up against the cool air.

‘’Would you like me to bring a cup for you too?’’ She said, turning her question to Tomas.

‘’No need, I have to go back to training soon. Maybe later.’’

After the woman offered both of you a polite smile for the last time, she withdrew to leave the two of you alone again. As the pungent smell of ginger spread around, you brought it closer to your lips to take a sip from the cup.

At that time, you caught a glimpse of Bi-Han out of the corner of your eye; he was coming towards your place from the middle of the garden covered with white snow. Since the day you arrived, his gaze, which he has always kept locked on you, found you directly; you were starting to get used to this habit a little. And you responded to him, sipping ginger tea while watching him approach.

The taste burned your throat because the tea was brewed a little too much, but because the heat warmed you up, you ignored the bitter taste and continued to drink in small sips.

‘’Is it nice? I probably don't like ginger tea very much; it reminds me of when I was sick.’’

Tomas' words made you giggle.

‘’I'd say it's drinkable. Besides, a little warmth from ginger won’t hurt.”

“Well, as long as it’s not medicinal.” Tomas said with a grin. As you continued sipping your tea, Bi-Han’s shadow loomed over the two of you, casting a momentary hush. In the quiet pause, the weight of his presence filled the air, and you sensed his usual commanding aura.

‘’Is everything all right?’’ asked Tomas.

"Cyrax needs to go on a mission; you will take over the group he is training for a few days.’’

Tomas shrugged.

‘’Of course, that's all right. Did you come all the way here just to tell me that? You could tell me this at dinner.’’

Bi-Han opened his mouth to answer, which you unintentionally interrupted with your unexpected cough. The cough came out so hard that your throat hurt as if it had been torn out.

Unable to understand what was happening, you dropped the cup you were holding and began desperately rubbing your neck, as if you could take away the pain that was scorching your throat.

‘‘(y/n)?’’ Bi-Han kneeled down in front of you with frowning brows, carefully looking you up and down, trying to figure out what your problem was. When his dark brown eyes were turned to yours again, his gaze hardened as he caught the desperate expression on your face.

‘‘What's the matter?’’

‘’I don't know.’’ The panic in your voice was audible. When you started coughing again, your coughs turned into a crisis and prevented you from breathing. Tomas' anxious voice filled your ears.

‘’She's choking.’’

‘’Shit.’’

Bi-Han’s grip on your arms was vice-like as he swiftly maneuvered you onto your side, averting the risk of drowning in your own saliva. A tidal wave of excruciating pain surged through your body, each convulsive cough accompanied by a guttural groan that fought its way out despite your efforts. The world around you blurred into a nightmarish haze, and an overwhelming sense of panic and fear tightened its grip on your heart.

As the cough increased in intensity, your mouth filled with a metallic taste.

Blood.

‘’Tea! There is poison in the tea!’’

Tomas's voice echoed in your ears. The pain strengthened in waves, increasing its effect on you. It was different from the pain when your throat was cut, you felt like your internal organs were liquefying, and you almost lost consciousness because of this terrible pain.

Your whole body was almost on fire; you were so hot that you thought your skin was melting, and it hurt so much that you were ready to sacrifice everything to make it end.

When you were struggling to survive, you felt like you were touched by something cool. The pain had not disappeared, but the coldness that touched your skin had taken you away from the scorching fire, even a little.

You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to figure out what happened. As the power gradually left your body, you were rapidly weakening in your perceptions.

When you managed to pick out Bi-Han's face, you realized that you were on his lap. Your head was against his chest, and you must have coughed a few more times because the front of his clothes was stained with your blood. When you realized this, you muttered something like ‘‘I'm sorry’’ with your numb lips.

‘’Don't talk,’’ Bi-Han commanded with stern authority. ‘’Don't you dare close your eyes.’’

Writhing in his lap, each groan echoed the inferno within. Blood seeped from the corners of your lips, internal organs ablaze. A feeble utterance managed to escape, ‘‘It hurts.’’ You doubted how much longer you could endure. Keeping your eyelids open felt like an unbearable burden, as if tons of weight pressed upon them, leaving you only able to moan, cry, and squirm.

‘'I know.'’

‘I don't want to die,’ you thought. Facing death for the second time, you understood the feeling, yet you resisted, unprepared to depart. You fought against the engulfing darkness, a powerless struggle in the face of excruciating torment. How much longer could you endure? You didn’t know the answer.

Bi-Han shook you urgently, ‘’Keep your eyes open,’’ he growled. His movement made you moan for a long time like a wounded animal. Would this pain never end? Hot tears or blood? It flowed under the eyelids that you don't know when you closed them.

‘‘You're not going to die, do you hear me? You won't die.’’

Even though you heard Bi-Han's words, all you felt was the darkness engulfing you and the nothingness that came with it.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Hold on, reader-san! Everything will be…okay…I hope.🥲

P.S: I barely had time to edit this, if you notice any errors, please let me know!

P.S 2 : I also learned that Cyrax’s real name is Felix Sam Kaweeson and Sektor’s name is Li Hog Jing.

[faggot-vampire-dies-epicly]

Tear me to pieces

Summary: Vanessa was annoyed. Her dad had sent her to check on you at the old Freddy's location on the outskirts of town. She expected the eerie atmosphere and dusty hallways, but she didn’t expect the way you made her feel. | Words: 6,031K

Warnings: Semi-graphic depictions of corpses. Death, murder, missing people, references of child death/murder. Parental abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation. Cursing. A slight sexual joke. Heavy angst, hurt/almost no comfort. William is an asshole on this one, you guys. Fem!Reader.

A/N: Whew, this took so long! But I'm kind of proud on how this turned out, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I went out of my way to make William as shitty as possible because I love making Vanessa suffer, and well, there's also sort of a plot twist? It's probably pretty obvious but I tried to keep it in the dark a little :). Title is from Lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid/Inspired by the entire album of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, by My Chemical Romance.

Main Materlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

She had arrived at least fifteen minutes ago, but her headache from her father’s berating had not yet subsided. She really wasn’t in the mood to make any effort. In spite of William’s scolding, she wanted just to fulfill her father’s orders in the most half-assed-and-bare-minimum-effort way possible.

Vanessa sighed, staring at the restaurant’s sign. The letters of the neon sign glowed dimly over the parking lot.

She cursed under her breath and got out of the car. She opened the trunk and took out the bag where she kept his fake police uniform. Her father had been trying to convince her for months to enroll into the police force, but she had refused over and over again. Vanessa knew he just wanted her to cover for him, and she refused to be more involved in his crimes than she already was.

She put the uniform over her normal civil clothes, grabbed the fake police badge and the ID and stepped out of the car. 

Vanessa took a deep breath and finally walked to the entrance. 

Doing these checkups was never easy for her. She got to meet pretty mundane people who were practically doomed from the start. From middle aged parents that just needed the job to survive with their kids to college students and teenagers that were fresh out of high school and just wanted to make some money to buy a car or go out with their friends.

They never lasted. Never.

Unfair was an understatement.

At least her father didn’t have to do with the disappearance of the majority. Most of them she would find inside Freddy. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t get any easier, but at least she knew her father wasn’t the real cause in the end. Or that’s how she tried to convince herself.

She rang the bell, waiting for the guard of this month (or perhaps of this week only) to come out.

She looked back at the parking lot. It was empty except for her car, parked on the darkest corner she could find. The door opened and she snapped her head back to the entrance.

And she saw you, looking confused.

“Is there anything I can help you with, officer?”

She stared at you for a moment. “Another college kid?” she thought wryly, “she’s not even going to last the full week”.

Vanessa forced a smile, suddenly becoming too aware of the way your gaze wouldn’t leave her face.

“Hi,” she said in a slightly strangled voice. You frowned.

She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m Officer Shelly. Vanessa Shelly,” she laughed awkwardly.

Vanessa extended her hand out, hoping you would understand the gesture and shook it. You complied. It was gentle, but firm. 

It made her skin tingle.

Vanessa swallowed, trying to shake the feeling away. 

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious,” she began. “I just wanted to check on you. When there’s a new night guard in this place, word spreads fast.” 

You made a confused face, but you nodded. She smiled at you, “can I come in?”

“Um,” you hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah, sure,” you said while stepping aside. She gave you a polite smile and she went into the restaurant.

Once inside, she looked around. It looked the same every time, but that didn’t make it any less dreadful.

The place used to be crammed with kids and their families. There were always birthday celebrations, kindergarten graduation parties, some people just going for a quick bite after a long day. Hell, sometimes even some high school students would show up after homecoming.

She remembered it well. The smell of pizza, the laughter of children, the animatronics singing and dancing. 

And then, her father inside the suit. The police sirens, mothers crying, fathers yelling.

A chill runned down her spine, snapping her out of the memories. You eyed her curiously at the sudden reaction, but said nothing. 

Vanessa cleared her throat again, “how long have you been working here?”

You licked your lips, an action Vanessa got too caught on. “A couple of days only.”

She hummed, nodding. “Has anything weird happened?” You swallowed, “weird how?”

Vanessa shrugged. “Like someone trying to break in,” she said casually, glancing around. “Or,” she trailed off, “equipment malfunctioning, like the monitors, or the cameras, or…”

She turned to face you. “Maybe the animatronics getting a bit quirky.” She tried to be as nonchalant as possible while mentioning the animatronics.

You seemed to tense up slightly, opening your mouth to answer but then snapping it shut again.

“No,” you said finally, with a slightly higher pitch than usual. “Nope. Nothing like that has happened, ma’am.”

Vanessa grimaced at the formal way you addressed her. “Please,” she forced some humor into her voice, “don’t call me that.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, “I’m sorry Officer–”

She raised her hand, signaling for you to stop talking. “Just,” she sighed, “just call me Vanessa.”

You breathed out softly. “Sorry, Vanessa.”

The way you said her name had her avoiding your gaze nervously. “God, Vanessa, get a grip,” she thought.

“It’s fine,” she dismissed quickly.

You two stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments. She couldn’t bear it.

“So, what made you decide to work at Freddy’s?” Vanessa internally scolded herself for asking something so stupid and personal.

“Oh,” you said, shrugging. “I just wanted to make some money before the school year starts.”

Vanessa nodded slowly, “Highschool?”

You shook your head. “College, actually.”

Her eyes widened, you looked younger than you were then.

“That’s,” she blinked a few times, “nice.”

You nodded awkwardly, and she smiled. “What’s your major?”

“English literature.”

“That sounds interesting,” she said thoughtfully.

“You know, I never considered going to college,” Vanessa murmured, thinking how her father would reduce her to dust if she even dared to suggest the idea.

“Is that why you’re a cop?” You said bluntly. You quickly realized how that sounded and attempted to take it back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Vanessa stared at you blankly for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

You smiled, confused. 

“Don’t worry. It is probably why I am a cop, yeah,” she said, smiling, trying to regain her composure.

Not one of the previous had charmed her enough to even smile, and now you were making her laugh.

She obviously couldn’t tell you that she wasn’t actually a cop. She sighed, gazing at the clock that hung on the wall. “Well, I better get going, I still have to patrol a couple of blocks,” she lied.

You nodded, understanding, and then escorted her to the door.

“I may come back another night to see how you’re doing, alright?” 

“Sure.”

Vanessa nodded, but before you closed the door, she spoke again. “You never told me your name.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” she echoed, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, Vanessa.”

And with that she made her way back to her car, her heart pounding inside her chest.

She returned four days later by her father’s order. 

Same routine. Choose the darkest spot in the parking lot, put the fake uniform on top of her normal clothes, grab her fake badge and fake ID and put on her bravest face. 

It was the same procedure she had done for years. Except, of course, that this time it was pouring, and she hadn’t brought a rain coat with her.

She frantically rang the bell, feeling the rain wet her clothes and soak her to the bone. 

You opened the door, letting her through. She mumbled a thank you as she rushed inside.

“God, you’re soaked,” you murmured. She snapped her head towards you, almost straining her neck, and you blushed at how that sounded. “I, I meant–” 

Vanessa sighed, looking at her uniform, “I know what you meant,” she grumbled.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think there’s a towel in the office. Come with me.”

She followed you to the office while shivering. You offered your chair for her to sit and she gladly accepted it.

She watched you search every corner of your office for a towel, but the only thing you could find was a handkerchief. 

“Sorry, this is all I have,” you scratched the back of your neck as you offered the piece of cloth. She took with trembling fingers, and immediately dried her face.

“What brings you here again?” You asked, sitting on your desk. She sighed, untying her hair to try and dry it a bit with the handkerchief. 

“I just want to see how you are doing, honestly,” she said, making a face. “I didn’t read the weather forecast, as you can see.”

You chuckled a bit, “you’re going to be fine.”

A beat passed and you spoke up again, “actually, I have coffee, would you like some?”

She groaned softly. “Oh my God. Yes, please.”

You chuckled again, taking out a thermos from your backpack and pouring some in the mug sitting on the desk.

She took the coffee hastily and took a sip, humming in contentment. “I think you’re the first guard to bring coffee to the job,” she murmured. You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. The job is being a night guard, I can’t be the only one,” you rolled your eyes, and she smiled into the mug. “And second of all,” you looked into her eyes, “you met the other guards?”

Vanessa choked on the hot liquid, and coughed. She had said too much.

“Um,” she said, trying to recover. “Well, I met some of them,” she laughed awkwardly, avoiding your eyes. You hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

“And how were they like?”

Vanessa sighed, as flashbacks flooded her mind. 

Sometimes she would find their bodies still sitting on the chair, their head laid down on the desk. She would consider herself lucky when she found them like that. Usually they had been just stabbed on the chest, or the stomach. It was probably Foxy, or that’s what she liked to think.

Other times she would find them in the supply closet. Dismembered, split in a half, headless, or smashed. She would have to hide the bodies and additionally clean the whole room. 

The animatronics were relentless, especially, she had come to realize, if the person looked like her father, even if it was just the minimum. 

She didn’t blame them of course. They had been trapped in there for at least two decades, and even if they had forgotten what happened, and who did them wrong, they still subconsciously searched for vengeance.

“Vanessa?” 

She snapped out of her thoughts, “yes?”

“What were the other night guards like? I mean,” you shifted on the desk, leaning in. “I mean, I’ve heard that most of them went missing. But that can’t be true, can’t it? That’s too many people to be a coincidence.”

She swallowed, looking at the remaining sip of coffee on the mug.

Vanessa cleared her throat in an effort to regain her composure. “Well, I’m sure most of them simply quit.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” you said, arching an eyebrow. She tried to brush it off by chuckling. 

“I mean,” she sighed, “it would be too many people to be a coincidence, like you said. People don’t just… disappear.” 

You frowned. The tone in which she had said it made your curiosity rise. 

Just as you were about to ask her to explain what she meant, she drank the last of the coffee and handed you the mug.

“Well, thanks for the coffee,” she looked down at her hands, where she was holding the handkerchief. “And for the…” she waved the piece of cloth, “this.”

You smiled and her heart sped up. “Sure thing."

It had become a routine. She came back to supposedly check on you, but in reality she just wanted to see you. To hear you.

She ached to look at you as you ranted to her about a boring book you had been reading lately. 

She brought you dinner sometimes, which you always took with a smile, and a thank you in a soft voice, which made her heart leap into her chest.

Vanessa wasn't what people would call experienced in love, much less in dating, or relationships, but she knew that what you made her feel was not only attraction, but also affection.

Affection had always eluded Vanessa. First from her father, given his nature, and then from her mother, who vanished from the face of the Earth when Vanessa was a child.

But you were different. You seemed to exhale affection through your pores. It was so natural for you, whether with her or with everything else, that she could feel devotion slowly consuming her.

Her father had started to suspect that something was up. He had always controlled her outings, only letting her out at night to fulfill her duties as his spy, but she was checking on the guard a little too much for his liking.

He had even cornered her, grabbing her arm tightly and pressing her against the wall. “I’m warning you, Vanessa,” he said. “If I find out that you are crossing the line between my orders and your personal matters, it’s not going to end well for either of you. Especially not for her.”

She had suppressed a shiver as William let go of her arm.

Vanessa knew it was risky, but she didn’t want to stop. In fact, she couldn’t. It’s like she had become addicted to you.

Addicted to your smile, your humor, your voice. 

She hadn’t even touched you yet, aside from the handshake on the first night she met you, and the occasional brush of hands when she handed you some food, or when you gave her a mug filled with coffee.

She loved to hear you rant about the books you read, even if she thought that reading was boring, especially the books you always chose to read.

“I’m telling you,” you said, “this has to have some truth to it!” You exclaimed, holding the book up, whose cover read “The Turn of the Screw.” 

“What if ghosts do exist?” You continued. She rolled her eyes, slightly unamused by your interest in the supernatural. 

She knew ghosts were real. The whole place was a proof of it. All the deaths, and the attacks, it was obvious what had provoked them, but she remained silent as you kept speaking.

“I mean,” you continued, “you know energy can’t be destroyed, right? And humans are energy. So what really happens to our energy when we die?”

You seemed fascinated by the concept of ghosts now. All thanks to that stupid book.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Vanessa scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes, “you just don’t get it.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

You grinned, “I could lend you the book if you want.” She chuckled.

“That won’t be necessary, believe me. I know enough thanks to what you have told me,” she smiled.

“Well, that sounds like you don’t like reading.”

 She laughed, “Not all of us can be workbooks like you, you know?”

Your grin widened. “You just don’t appreciate the beauty of reading and analyzing.”

Vanessa hummed, and smirked, “that must be why I became a cop.” You groaned. “God, no. I thought you had forgotten about that.” She smiled.

“I never forget the things you tell me,” she said softly. 

You smiled softly, blushing slightly while you looked down at your book. On the page you were left on you put the handkerchief, which you were now using as a separator, and closed the book.

“You know,” you spoke softly. “I know that might have sounded pretty mean. But I said it as a compliment.”

She met your gaze, “how so?”

You licked your lips. “Well, I could never be a cop. To be a cop you need to be brave, smart and caring. Reading is something I’ve always loved, that’s why I’m majoring in english literature, but you,” you paused. “You became a police officer to help people, something that has never crossed my mind.”

Vanessa swallowed, knowing that she wasn’t a real cop, and that she wasn’t pretending to help anyone but herself and her father.

“Your decision to pursue a career that allows you to help others doesn't compare to my futile decision to study literature because I like to read and be annoying.” You smiled at her again. “I could never be like you, and I admire you, honestly.”

She felt a little overcome with emotion, and completely filled with guilt. She swallowed her feelings down.

“Thank you. For your kind words.”

You grinned, “as long as I’m alive you’ll get to hear more kind words coming from me.”

One night, when Vanessa descended the staircase, carrying the bag with her fake belongings, William was waiting for her at the foot of the steps, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

He wore that look he always had when he was planning something, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Vanessa,” he began, his voice cold like ice, “where are you going?”

She swallowed, lifting the bag for her father to see, hoping he would deduce her intentions, but he merely arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to Freddy’s”, Vanessa said in a small voice, “to check on the night guard.”

She brushed past him, walking towards the garage.

“You’ve been checking on her an awful lot lately, hm?” 

William trailed behind her, his pace slowly but his steps wide.

Vanessa didn’t turn to look at him. She opened the car’s trunk, throwing the bag inside, and just hummed in acknowledgement to her dad’s words.

“Is there a reason why?” William insisted.

Vanessa sighed. “No, dad. I just want to keep an eye on her,” she closed the trunk with more force than she intended to. “I’m just doing as you told me. I’m just doing what you entrusted me to do.” 

He hummed, sounding more like the typical cartoon villain than an actual man. 

“Remember what I told you, Vanessa.”

Vanessa didn’t answer, she just opened the driver’s side door, and got into the car.

Just as she was adjusting the mirror by her window, William grabbed her wrist tightly, and squeezed even tighter.

Vanessa groaned.

“I’m serious, Vanessa,” he leaned closer to her through the window, towering over his daughter. Vanessa felt herself shrinking on her seat.

"If I catch you spilling your guts to that filthy little friend of yours, I'll skin her alive, and you, dear daughter, I'll lock you up in the basement with the prototypes of animatronics I've been working on.”

Vanessa’s breath got caught in her throat. “Dad–” she tried to explain, but he just kept talking, squeezing her wrist harder.

“And I assure you, little girl,” William practically sneered, “this time those animatronics will serve their purpose if you dare come near them."

Finally, he let go of her wrist, or rather, he flung it away from him, and Vanessa's hand hit the mirror.

William walked away, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

Vanessa sat there, still trembling, holding onto her hand, which hurt pretty bad. But she didn’t know what was worse, if the physical pain, the threats against you, or the threats against her.

When she had finally calmed down enough, she turned on the engine, and drove away.

Away from her father, and looking for you.

Your smile had disappeared, and turned instead into a frown as soon as you saw the state she was in. 

A nervous mess, with tense shoulders, and a bruise starting to form on her wrist. Wide, alert eyes met yours instead of the usual bright eyes that typically greeted you.

You closed the door behind her, the atmosphere was so tense that it could have been cut with a knife.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” she sighed, leaning against one of the tables that were used for dinning back in the day.

You crossed the distance between you and her in two seconds, and delicately took her injured wrist.

“Then what is this?”

Vanessa’s pulse quickened. You were touching her.

Your skin felt so soft, so warm, and inviting. She suppressed a shiver as she swallowed dryly and looked away. 

“That’s just,” she gestured with her other hand, “an occupational hazard.” “I've never seen you have one of these before," you murmured. “Does it hurt?” You asked as you poked the bruise lightly. Vanessa hissed.

“Shit–” you let go of her hand as if it burned you. “I’m so sorry–”

“It’s fine,” she cut you off. “I’m fine, really.” She ran a hand through her carefully arranged ponytailed hair. “That just… happens sometimes. Sometimes things just happen to you, and you can’t explain why.” She swallowed, “you never know if you did something to cause them, or if that is just how life works.” You opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it again.

“Come with me,” you said finally, walking towards your office.

She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately followed you.

Once inside, you took your backpack and began to search inside. After a few moments, you pulled out a cold juice can wrapped in the handkerchief from last time.

“I brought this because I wanted to give it to you,” you said after you saw Vanessa’s look of confusion. “But I have books in my backpack, I don’t want them to get wet.” 

You unwrapped the handkerchief, which was now cold. With a subtle gesture, you  extended your hand towards her, indicating for her to bring her wrist closer.

She complied. You took her wrist, wrapping the cold cloth around it.

“There,” you said, “that’ll help with the swelling.” 

She took a deep breath, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” Vanessa said, meeting your gaze as she smiled softly.

“Anytime,” you replied, offering the juice can to her. “Besides, it matches your uniform.”

Vanessa smiled, taking the can from your hand. Her fingers brushed against yours, which caused a tingle to go down her spine.

Your smile widened, your eyes traveling to her injured wrist. “I hope it helps,” you gestured towards the piece of cloth wrapped around her wrist.

Vanessa nodded, pulling the tab from the can, and resting her lips on the cold surface of the lid. “It already feels better,” she admitted with a soft voice.

“Good,” you replied. You both stood there in silence, and Vanessa couldn’t help but notice that providing her with some comfort made you look strangely content.

“Have you seen the animatronics perform?” She asked suddenly.

You huffed a laugh. “Uh, no. Not really.”

She took a sip from the juice, “would you like to?”

You met her gaze, holding it for a second, and then you nodded.

When Vanessa woke up the next day, she lay in bed, mulling over everything that had happened the night before.

You giving her your handkerchief to help with the swelling of her wrist, the juice can, the animatronics' performance, the dancing, the way you rested your forehead against hers as you laughed after tripping over your own feet.

It felt surreal, to say the least.

When she finally decided to descend the stairs to find something to eat, her father was in the dining room reading the newspaper.

Their eyes met, but due to the fight from the night before, neither of them said anything and shortly after, William disappeared from her sight.

She was relieved, of course. A day without William meant a day without problems. No arguments, no empty threats, and no deathly stares.

Vanessa decided to just stay in and relax. It was true that she was glad William wasn’t around, but she didn’t want to upset him further by going out without permission. With her going out almost every night, deliberately disobeying him and lying to his face. She didn’t want to think about what could happen if he found out.

Hours passed and Vanessa was growing worried. Had something happened to him? 

It was true that whenever they were together, Vanessa felt like she had to walk on eggshells, always being on edge. But he was her dad after all, wasn't he? Her only family.

After a while of pacing out in front of the door, Vanessa sat down.

She started dozing off, and just when the clock was about to strike midnight, the door opened, with a very calm William stepping inside.

Vanessa immediately jumped from her seat, rushing to him.

William gave her an exasperated look, but smiled to her nonetheless.

He unceremoniously walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge, and Vanessa trailed behind him.

“Dad?”

William ignored her, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge, and setting it on the table. He then turned to the cupboard, taking out a mug, and lastly, took out powdered coffee from the kitchen cabinet.

“Dad,” Vanessa insisted. What was his deal now? Was he going to ignore her until his anger had dissipated?

He turned around, turning on the hot water, and filling his cup, which was now full of coffee powder. He hummed a tune, one Vanessa could recognize from the songs the animatronics used to play, she clenched her fists.

“Father,” her patience was running out, her voice was more commanding this time.

William continued on his task, now pouring the milk after having dissolved the coffee with water. Then he took the sugar jar and opened it.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

She hated his smugness, his incredibly enormous ego, the total dismissal of her feelings, the threats, the fights, the screaming, the hits –

Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. What was his problem? All Vanessa had ever done was to please him, and when she displeased him just once, he preferred to be away all day and ignore her afterward.

“Look at me!” she all but growled. 

William audibly sighed, taking a sip out of his drink. He put the mug on the counter, and finally acknowledged Vanessa’s presence.

“Tell me,” he said in a monotone voice, “are you going to visit your little friend today?”

Vanessa swallowed. “No, I’m not.”

William raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? That’s surprising.” 

Vanessa opened her mouth to answer, but he interrupted her with a low chuckle. “I mean, you were so eager to see her last night, weren’t you?”

She inhaled, trying to relax and push her uncomfort down. “Yes,” she said between her teeth. “But since it upset you, I’m not going to go check on her for at least a couple of days.”

William hummed.

“Is that satisfying enough for you, father?”

“Bah,” with a dismissive gesture, he waved off her words, turning his head to the side with disdain.

“Playing the “father” card with me, like you’re a little kid,” he murmured to himself. “I know what you’re doing,�� he turned to her, closing the distance between them.

Vanessa recoiled, panic etching her face. 

She tried walking away from him until her back hit the wall, and William finally cornered her.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” He smiled condescendingly at her. “You think you’re so tough, so… lucky. One day reality it’s going to hit you, and you’ll realize you’re not worth any of the trouble you’re causing.”

He raised his hand towards her face.

Vanessa’s breath quickened. She felt as if all of the air in the room suddenly vanished. Her chest felt tight, her throat was dry and her eyes burned with unshed tears.

William gently stroked her cheek before slowly sliding his hand downward. He rested his hand around Vanessa’s neck, not squeezing, just to hold her in place, like a silent warning.

His voice was soft and calm, but incredibly supercilious. “The day will come, Vanessa. Just wait and see.”

After a week of radio silence, Vanessa couldn't take it anymore and went to look for you at work.

Something had changed. She didn't know what exactly, but you weren't the same.

You would barely face her, let alone look at her. You would avoid her touch, you wouldn't accept her offerings of food.

You didn't offer her coffee anymore.

Vanessa couldn't help but wonder if it was something she had done.

Every time she tried to mention it, you brushed it off like it wasn’t important.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” or sometimes it was “I just had a rough day, don’t worry about it.”

You were lying, it was painfully obvious, and both of you were aware of it.

But why? What had happened? 

Vanessa couldn’t help but roll around in bed every night, thinking, analyzing.

Whatever it was, she was determined to find out.

There was something else, too.

Her father had also changed his behavior.

He stopped asking where she was going. He also spent most of his time in the basement, working on his projects.

Vanessa honestly didn't mind as much, she felt better with him being out of sight most of the time.

That night, when she went downstairs ready to check on you at Freddy's, he was in the living room, reading the newspaper.

“How's your little friend?” He asked, not lifting his gaze.

“She's fine,” Vanessa answered, maybe more coldly than she should've.

William chuckled, amused, for some reason.

“I've been thinking about placing an ad in the newspaper to look for another security guard.”

“Another?” Vanessa frowned. “Are you going to fire her?”

William lifted his gaze, “you sometimes worry me, Vanessa.”

Vanessa was taken aback by this, but her father didn't elaborate.

She sighed, making her way to the garage. 

Vanessa heard her father say, “have fun,” as she left the room.

She was inside Freddy's in no time. You had developed the habit of leaving the door unlocked, Vanessa knew she probably had to scold you for that, but she honestly couldn't care less.

Vanessa headed to your office, but something stopped her.

Was that the smell of…?

No, she interrupted her train of thought. No, it can't be, it's impossible.

“Is it, though?” A voice inside her head said.

She swallowed, turning around and heading to the storage room.

With her heart beating madly inside, she entered the room.

An incredibly strong and nauseating smell hit her. 

Vanessa recognized the smell easily. 

Putrefaction.

Death.

And there were you. Or rather, what was left of you.

Her heart was beating so fast that she was subconsciously afraid that her blood pressure would drop and she would faint.

Slowly, painfully so, she approached your body.

At first glance, and also thanks to the stench, she could tell this had happened days ago, if not weeks.

How?

You talked with her not too long ago, barely a couple of days had passed.

How? Who?

Vanessa could no longer stand, and her knees gave way.

How? Who? Why?

All she could do was stare at your decomposed body, the dry wounds, the rotten blood, the pale skin. 

It was like seeing the kids again. All over again.

Before she could When he realized it, big tears were sliding down his cheeks and falling to the ground.

This couldn't be happening. Not to you, at least.

It didn't make any sense, one day she had you dancing in her arms, and now you were lying dead on the ground.

Why?

Could she have prevented this?

She never even get to tell you how she felt. She never got to tell you that she liked you.

Vanessa trembled, unable to stop crying. Was this a divine punishment?

Did God see all her atrocities and decided to take action against her?

She tried to brush away the tears, being too harsh.

It hurt. Everything hurt. From her eyes, to her head, and her heart.

Her chest felt tight, she couldn't breathe. No amount of trying was going to compensate for it.

You were dead. But she had seen you, hadn't she?

And that's when she heard footsteps behind her. 

Vanessa snapped her head back, and lo and behold. You were there.

Vanessa choked, trying to say something, anything.

“You're gone,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, barely audible over her sobs.

You nodded, softly.

She raised her voice, “why didn't you say anything?”

You just stared at her for a moment. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Vanessa stood up on her wobbly legs. 

“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” you say. 

Vanessa looks at your face after what felt like eternity. So that was why you would recoil from her touch. That was why you would never look at her, you would never let her look at you. It was disturbingly obvious now.

Your eyes were basically drained of life, hollow, empty. 

She would have realized something was amiss if you hadn't taken all those precautions.

The tears kept falling.

“I'm sorry,” Vanessa breathed out with a broken voice.

You managed a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “Don't be. It wasn't your fault.”

She choked on her sobs, her cries getting louder.

“I don't understand,” she choked, “why are you still here?”

You (or rather, your ghost,) looked down, sighing. “I guess what they say it's true. You can't go if you have something pending.”

You approached her. "I guess I should tell you.”

Vanessa looked down at your corpse and then back at your ghost.

“Tell me.”

You sighed, smiling bittersweetly. 

“Let me tell you something else first,” you began. “I still admire you for your decision to become a police officer. I know you think it's nothing. But not for me, because I know you'll help with the investigation. I know you'll report what happened here, and I'll finally get some peace.”

Vanessa swallowed. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

“Anyways, I…” you closed your eyes, and opened them again. “I'm ready to tell you.”

A beat passed.

“I like you, Vanessa.”

Numb. That's the only way she could describe it.

Her hands felt numb after dragging your body through the cold and burying it behind Freddy's, on the empty lot William had bought a few years ago.

Her heart was numb after your confession. 

“I like you.”

It repeated over and over again inside her head, like a broken record.

I like you, I like you, I like you.

If only she could have said, “I like you too,” before your spectrum became nothing more than dust and memories.

If only she had said something before you were killed.

If only she had done anything at all.

She knew exactly who had done it. She couldn't pretend that she didn't see it anymore. 

That night, coming home felt like a nightmare.

Vanessa had barged inside the basement, and screamed at him. At her father.

The one who had taken you away from her.

She screamed, and threw everything she could find at him. She cried, and cried, and cried.

And William remained impassive until he didn't.

Vanessa made the mistake of tearing William's work plans off the wall, and at that moment he finally saw red and revealed himself.

With an incredible amount of force, he grabbed Vanessa and pressed her against his desk.

“What do you think you're doing, you stupid creature? You think throwing a tantrum will bring her back? Do you forget who you are, and who I am?”

William basically spat the words out, Vanessa took a deep breath.

“Look at what you have become,” William narrowed his eyes as he said this.

With a trembling voice, Vanessa replied, “I am what you made me. I am your daughter.”

He growled, “you're unbearable. I want you out of my sight!”

William pushed her out of the basement, and locked himself inside.

A couple of days later, Vanessa was packing everything she owned, including the handkerchief you had given to her that one time, and leaving her dad's house. For good this time.

And a month after escaping her father's shadow, she was changing her last name from Afton to Shelly and enrolling in the police academy.

A/N: Well, that was a ride, wasn't it? Reblogs are appreciated.

[fairysluna]

SINNERS — Chapter 4

After Maegor finds out his beloved niece is to be wed with her own brother, he absolutely loses his mind. He can't just let her go.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Maegor I Targaryen x Fem!OC.

SUMMARY – A year has passed, Maegor's lies are exposed as Aenelys overheard a conversation and they both found themselves in a discussion that was interrupted by an unexpected visit and terrible news..

TW/TAGS – targcest (uncle/niece), age gap, angst, smut (humping, praising), cursing, maegor being his own warning, mentions of death, hurt/comfort, manipulation. if something is missing let me know!!

NOTE – finally i managed to sit and write for this, I'm sorry if it's not perfect, but I'm still struggling with my writer's block.😫 hopefully you'll like this!! pls enjoy🤍✨

WORD COUNT – 5.0k

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Maegor was unable to take his eyes out of her. His hand found its way to her back, caressing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. His little princess was exhausted after last night, which finished with her limbs shaking and her beautiful doe eyes covered by tears. 

Aenelys had been behaving these past year, and Maegor was pleased with it. As long as he made her believe he was hers, nothing could go wrong. He was smarter this time; hiding his mistresses in brothels while her princess remained oblivious of his acts, waiting for his return and opening her soft legs to him because she was getting obsessed with the pleasure he could provide to her.

He was no fool, not at all. He knew there was no way he could be inside her without getting her with child, and that was no good for his plans… he needed her a maiden, he could not allow her to breed a bastard, not when her title and prestige were at risk. Those were two things he needed from her, her title and her legitimate child, but for that he must be patient, wait for the right moment. 

But that does not mean he could not have fun with her in the meantime.

Maegor found himself searching for new methods of pleasure that would work for both, one of his favorites will forever be having her plump lips around him. The first time she learned how to please him with her mouth, she was acting shy and flustered, nervously touching him until he decided to control her movements. Aenelys turned out to be strangely good at this, pleasing him like no other.

"Not even the most expensive whore can suck my cock like you do, my sweet dove," he had told her as he wiped the tears off her flushed face. Aenelys smiled widely, feeling proud after realizing that she was better than anyone. She thought that he would only seek release in her after that… but how wrong she was.

There is no secret that Maegor had some carnal need that needed to be fulfilled, and his wish to be inside some tight, wet walls were too overwhelming to be ignored. This is why, after those times where he could not get satisfied by her touch, he would leave once he made sure she was sleeping, and seek that much needed release with someone else; his dear friend and favorite mistress, Tyanna. 

Ser Draqos knew about his dirty little secret, for he would guard the princess door each night, seeing how her beloved uncle and lover would leave her alone for some common whore. It was hard for him to understand how Maegor, a man who had in his power a woman as sweet and beautiful as the princess, decided to sneak out like a rat in the middle of the night and lock himself in brothels with other women. It was nonsense that only a fool could understand. 

But now Maegor was laying beside her, his big hand on her back as she started to move, her eyes slowly opening as she turned around with a small, sleepy smile. Maegor put his hand around her neck, not squeezing it but leaving it there as a sign of some kind of dominance over her, something that the princess loved to feel. 

"How beautiful you look in the mornings," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers in a strangely soft touch. "Did you sleep well?" 

"I always sleep well with you by my side," she murmurs in response. Maegor smirked, almost hearing the devotion in her voice.

Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss. Aenelys moaned; the sudden act made her heart flutter, still not getting used to these heated touches that made her limbs go numb. The butterflies on her belly blurred her thoughts as he possesively devoured her lips with a fervor that left her breathless. She squirmed beneath him, so easy to arouse. Maegor knew exactly the effect he had on her, and he knew that if he dared to touch between her legs he would find nothing but her sweet slick running down her thighs. Her flesh begging to be touched.

She sighed as he leaned back, a small string of saliva joining their swollen lips as Maegor's darkened eyes stared at hers with a hunger that made her legs shake. He had woken up with the intention of devouring her in every way, not satisfied with the action that took place the night before. Aenelys felt his hand roaming down her body, a small squeeze on her left breast before he positioned himself between her legs, spreading them open for him to see all of her. 

She blushed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that screamed innocence - or at least what was left of it. Maegor growled, his fingers involuntarily touching her soaked folds as she mewled beneath him, her hips moving upwards as she searched for more of his touch. 

"Look how wet you are for me, my sweet doe," he mumbled, towering her body as he leaned forward, a shadow casting over her petite frame and hiding her from the sunlight. "And all of this is for me, right?" He asked using that husky tone that sent her into a submissive and pleading state. She nodded as a response muttering a small 'yes' that could be easily mistaken with soft gasps. 

Maegor, discontent with that answer, put his hand back around her neck and squeezed it. Aenelys purred under his touch and a smug grin appeared on her uncle's lips. 

"I made you a question, princess," he murmured as he brushed his nose against her cheek. "Answer me." His low voice caused chills down her spine, making her pearl throb with excitement.

"It's- it's all for you," she replied in a sigh, her voice thin and weak as he pressed himself against her. His length felt the warmth of her folds and a groan left his lips as she moved her hips, starting to hump on him. 

"Good girl…" he sighed.

Maegor then started to move as well, his hips meeting hers in slow but hard movements that made her whine. His hardness rubbing against her swollen bud almost made her eyes roll, her hands holding onto his shoulders at the same time he kissed her. The muffled noises of their passion were echoing in the room. 

"I can't wait to be inside you, my dear," he whispered against her lips, "I bet you would feel so good around my cock, squeezing me with that tight cunny of yours." 

His words did nothing but to increase her arousal, her cheeks turning red as her mind flooded with images of him claiming her as his. Her mouth dropped open with a whine, her clit throbbing as he used his free hand to press himself further into her soaked flesh. Aenelys closed her eyes, her back arching as his grip around her neck tightened even more. 

"Does it feel good, byka mēre?" Little one. That bloody nickname sent waves of heat all over her trembling body as she whimpered a response. "Are you going to cum? I can hear how wet you are, love… So needy for me." 

She felt the knot of her lower belly starting to form, searching for that needed release as his name fell from her lips like a sacred prayer. After he let go of her neck, his lips wrapped around one of her sensitive nipples, licking and sucking the delicate bud as she frowned in pleasure and her whole body shook. The stimulation between her legs, plus his hungry mouth roughly working on her breasts, made her see stars behind her eyelids, her limbs shaking as her cries of pleasure became louder. 

Aenelys fell apart beneath his thick frame, crying his name as she reached her overwhelming climax. Her breathing was fast, ragged. Her eyes closed as he kept moving trying to find his release - which was far to come. 

After a few seconds, Maegor kept going in an useless attempt to feel that knot in his gut. The stimulation was not enough for him, and the frustration was growing inside him, losing his patience. Aenelys started to cry even louder, the overstimulation being too much that it became a bit painful. Maegor groaned.

He let go, trying to use his hand but it was still not enough. Aenelys saw his struggle and she tried to make things better as she noticed how his patience was hanging from a thin thread. 

"I can… I can use my mouth-" 

"Be quiet," he snapped at her as he stood up, lurking for his clothes around her chambers. 

Aenelys covered her nudity with the thin sheets of her bed, staring at Maegor as a tiny feeling of inefficiency filled her chest, almost making her cry. It was not the first time this would happen, and even when she would offer to please him in other ways, he would grab his things and leave her room… just like he did this time. 

The princess felt a slight pain in her heart as she was left alone, trying to convince herself that the next time will be different. Trying to convince herself that he went to the training yard instead of a brothel. 

Though she was not very sure of that. 

A few minutes later passed before one of her loyal maids entered her room, preparing a warm bath for her. Aenelys found herself relaxing in the water while Henela washed her hair. The princess had been unable to focus on anything besides what happened with Maegor, she wondered what she could do to be better for him, to please him and leave him satisfied. 

"Are you still a maiden, Henela?" The princess suddenly asked, the lady almost blushed at the question. 

"Uh… no, princess, I'm not," she hid her nervousness behind an awkward giggle. 

"So you know how to properly please a man, right?" Aenelys asked again without shame. She turned around looking up at the flustered maid, the curiosity shining through her eyes. 

"Well, there's many ways to please a man," Henela explained, going to search for the princess' robe. "You can use your hands, or your mouth-"

"I have done those things-"

"Have you?" She interrupted with surprise. 

"I have," Aenelys nodded, standing from the tub and wrapping the robe around her body. "But it seems as if they are not enough… Is there anything else I could do to please him?"

The shock on Henela's face was undisguisable. 

"I'm not quite sure what else you can do, those things usually work," she murmured, now feeling a bit embarrassed. "Has he ever… been inside you?" 

Aenelys shook her head, "he does not want to," she sadly said. "He says a princess shall always wait for marriage."

"Is he planning to wed you?" Henela curiously asked. 

"Yes," she nodded excitedly, "Though I'm not quite sure when, but I know we will get married someday…" Henela felt a tingle of pity on her chest after seeing her dreamy eyes and knowing the truth about Maegor. "He gave me this necklace when I was sixteen," Aenelys said as she grabbed the pendant hanging around her neck, "I think he gave it to me as a promise…" 

"Pardon me for my intrusion, my princess, but is he not already married?" Henela asked. 

Aenelys smile trembled a little and she shook her head, as if she was trying to downplay the situation she was in. 

"Oh, yes, but here we're free, and we can get married even if he's married in Westeros, can we not?" she shrugged, still with a soft smile on her face that was so hard to watch for her maid. "Besides, Ceryse does not love him, not like I do. He deserves a good wife, someone who can give him what he wants."

"What does he want?" 

"A child!" Aenelys excitedly said. 

"Oh…" she simply said.

"How lovely would it be to be carrying his child," Aenelys murmured, standing in front of the mirror and placing her hand on her belly. "But firstly, I need to know how to properly please him. Is there any advice?"

Henela sighed, "Men usually like it when women take control or seem to be confident in the marital bed," she explained, "for that you need to be on top, riding him."

"Like a horse?" 

Her maid giggled softly, "not quite, but the movements are rather the same. Moving your hips in circles or back and forth, it drives them crazy." 

"Does it?"

Henela nodded.

"Please, also remember that men like to hear your pleasure, so you have to be loud, but try not to be too obvious about it or they will know you are lying." 

"That is a bit confusing," Aenelys giggled. Henela laughed too.

"Men are complicated, my princess, but if there is something that can keep them interested is a good sexual companion… I'm sure Prince Maegor would be rather infatuated once he gets to bed you." 

"You think?" Aenelys blushed. 

"Definitely, my princess," she nodded. "Sometimes we can get them to do as we please by just opening our legs, they always think with their cocks."

"Henela!" She gasped, laughing at the word she used and slightly blushing. It was not very common for her to hear a lady using that term.

"It is the truth!" Henela giggled, making her sit in a chair in order to brush her hair. 

"I think the fact he's waiting for me is the purest act of love," Aenelys murmured, her silly smile and dreamy eyes coming back to enlighten her face. "The fact that he stopped seeing his whores is proof that he actually loves me, right?"

The way the princess smiled made her feel pity again; she could only ask for the truth to be out. She simply nodded, hiding the guilt behind a soft look in her eyes. Henela had a special spot for the princess, and she was not going to be the one telling Maegor's little secret and eventually breaking her heart. 

A few hours later she was walking towards the dining room to break her fast. A freshened look on her face as she had taken a hot bath and had her braids done by Henela, leaving any trace of sadness behind after what had happened inside her room. She kindly smiled at everyone who crossed her path; the princess had known how to win every servant's heart, which is why they would always give her pity glances as she walked - they knew what her beloved uncle did behind her back. No one dared to say a word, everyone was too afraid of the Prince to even think about confessing his lie. 

Everyone but Draqos, who was standing in the hall being threatened by a very angry Maegor. Aenelys found them, slowing her pace and quietly approaching the corner to spy. She was able to see her uncle's back and Draqos' face under the sunlight. She frowned, noticing how her loyal guard was visibly mad, his eyes throwing daggers at the man in front of him as they seemed to have a not so friendly conversation. 

She was not able to hear clearly, but her heart ached when she heard his last words before he left: "Consider yourself dead if you dare to tell her about this."

Aenelys frowned, her confused expression being plastered in her face as she leaned back in the wall trying to make sense of what Maegor had just said. That is when a hand was pressed on her shoulder, a touch so gently and caring. Draqos looked down at her lilac eyes, and with a single glance he knew that he had heard part of the conversation.

"What did he mean?" she asked softly, trying not to jump into conclusions. 

"Princess, you shouldn't have heard that," Draqos sighed, almost looking ashamed.

"But I did," she firmly replied, "what did he mean?" she repeated, her eyes never leaving his as she was forcing him to answer her. "I demand you to tell me what is going on."

The inner struggle was obvious in his eyes as he immediately looked away, unable to resist the temptation to tell her the truth if he was staring at her. Aenelys silently pleaded for an answer. 

"He will not hurt you if you decide to speak to me," she told him, softly speaking in an attempt to make him talk. "I will make sure you are safe, I promise."

With that, Draqos was easily convinced. His sweet princess was begging for an answer and he was not going to be the one to deny her of it. He would never deny her anything.

"I'm afraid the prince has been seen occasionally escaping during the nights, and sometimes during the days," he started, his voice somewhat soft as if he was trying to make everything less painful. "He visits the brothels almost every week, seeking companionship in the arms of a courtesan named Tyanna." 

Aenelys pressed her lips into a thin line as she took in the heartbreaking news of the not so unexpected treason. Draqos got a bit worried when he did not see sadness in her eyes; he saw anger. Her soft, doe eyes turned into flames as she imagined that woman touching what belonged to her. 

"How long has this been going on?" she asked. 

Draqos took a deep breath, "it has never stopped, my princess." 

She sighed, a shaky sigh that almost broke his heart. 

"I need you to promise me something, Ser Draqos," Aenelys softly spoke as she took a step closer and looked up at him. Their closeness would not be well seen if someone walked in, but he was not going to be the one to push her away. 

"Anything," he whispered, his deep brown eyes looking at her lilac ones with a devotion she wished to see in Maegor. 

"You are my protector, you sworn yourself to me when we first arrived here," she said as she grabbed his hand. "I do not want just your protection. I want your loyalty and sincerity. Do not lie or hide things from me again." 

"Princess-"

"Promise me," she demanded. 

"I promise you," he answered without missing a beat, not even doubting himself. "My princess, I will always be loyal to you… Until my last breath." 

Aenelys nodded, taking in his words and closing her eyes when he leaned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there longer than they should have; it brought some sense of peace and calmness. The princess muttered a small 'thank you', before she took a step back and looked at the floor, as if she was avoiding his stare. She excused herself before her expression hardened again and she walked away from him.

With a single glance to her determined steps, he knew where she was walking to, so he walked behind her just to make sure she would be safe. 

Aenelys reached for the door and pushed it open, hard enough to disrupt the calm environment that had been established in the dining room. Maegor frowned as he looked at her, the sign of dried tears in her rosy cheeks immediately worked as a warning that something was not right, and the realization hit when Draqos stood behind her.

"Leave," she ordered to all the servants that were staring at her with curious eyes. Everyone left, except for Draqos. "You too," she told him.

"Princess-"

"Go," she interrupted him. Draqos doubted for a second, staying still while giving quick glances to Maegor; he did not trust him. However, he eventually turned around, reluctantly leaving the room.

Aenelys saw Maegor leaning back in the chair; his legs spreaded, his jaw moving as he was eating while a small grin appeared on his face. She knew he was going to tease her, a daring provocation in order to make her explode; she tried not to get caught up in that, but her feelings were all over the place, her heart was beating too fast and the ache in her chest did not seem to cease. 

"You lied to me," she murmured, trying to make her voice not break. 

"Did I?" 

"You did!"

"Ah…" he scoffed, drinking from his tea as if she was not falling apart in front of him. "When did I lie to you, darling?" 

"You are fucking a whore, Maegor," she mumbled, wiping a rebel tear as she looked to the floor. A small tsk was heard from his side.

"Well, that's the thing, little one." He stood up, and he slowly started to approach her. "I do not remember telling you I'd stopped fucking whores. It is not a lie if I never said it, is it? You just assumed it." 

There was a silence where Maegor reached for her face, cupping her cheek with his hand as his thumb wiped the tears away. It was a gesture so delicate and soft that it almost made her sigh; her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and her heart skipped a beat. It brought some calmness to the turmoil of feelings inside her chest. His softness, that was hardly ever shown, made her almost melt into his touch once again, but then his own voice made her wake up from the trance he had put her in.

"Who told you?" 

That mere question brought her back to reality. She thought about how many people knew about it for him to ask such thing. She thought about how ridiculous she must have been seen by the servants that already knew about it, for she would never hide her undying loyalty and devotion to him. 

She pushed his hand away from her, taking a step back as the anger consumed her once again.

"No one did!" she replied, raising her voice. "You really think I was never going to find out about this?" 

"My sweet doe," he softly spoke, trying to calm her down. "You need to understand that a man has needs-"

"I'm the one who should be satisfying your needs!" She yelled. "I'll be your wife, I will marry you, not her!" She spat the last words with utter disgust.

He took a deep breath, slowly starting to lose his patience. 

"I know that very well," he whispered, taking a step closer. "But there are different kinds of pleasure that you cannot provide me with. You know that." 

"I do not care!" She yelled again, this time pushing him away. Maegor was taken by surprise, and he almost lost his balance. Pure shock on his eyes as he saw her unexpected outburst. "I can be all that for you if you only give me the chance!" She whined. "I'm right here, uncle! I'm yours, and I will always be yours. Why can you not understand?!"

His anger was immediately shown as he unexpectedly wrapped his hand around her jaw, digging his fingers into her flesh - strong enough to make her stay still. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight panic running through her eyes as she saw the rage written all over his face. She whined, now out of pain. 

"You cannot understand simple things, can you?" He muttered so close to her face that she was able to feel his hot breath against her lips. "Is your brain so small that it cannot comprehend anything? You think I haven't fucked you because I do not wish for it?" He scoffed. "Oh, you silly little thing. I could spread your legs and bury my cock on that needy cunt of yours right here if that is what I want, but I won't; because I'm smart, and I'm patient, you know why? Because I could easily fuck a bastard into you." Those last words were spat with rage, the kind of feeling he had never felt with her up to this point.

He was wondering how she could not understand what he had been explaining to her for months. Her obliviousness to certain things made him furious.

"Is that what you want?" He continued, tightening his grip. "A bastard is a weapon against maidens as you, something they can use to steal your rightful position in the throne, is that what you want? People calling you the whore princess because you opened your legs to someone who's not your husband? Don't act stupid, I know you are more clever than that."

He let her go, and she stumbled backwards as she touched her jaw trying to soothe the tingling pain that was left there. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he stared at her teary eyes. Maegor then approached her again, two of his fingers lifting her chin forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me, my love," his tone changed, returning to be the soft and gentle one he would always use with her. "You want to feel me inside that tight cunny of yours? You want me to breed you until your womb is filled with my seed? That is fine, and you'll have all of that…" he made a pause, appreciating the red on her cheeks produced by his words. "But for that you'll have to wait until we marry. Is that clear for you?"

She nodded, reluctantly.

"Answer me," he demanded. 

"Yes…" she replied in a thin voice, and he smiled pleasantly.

"That's a good girl," he muttered before he leaned and left a soft kiss on her forehead. A chill ran down her back, a sense of uneasiness settled in her chest. She remembered Draqos giving her the same gesture, and causing the complete opposite emotion. "Now… this is the last time I will bear one of these tantrums, do you hear me? I will not forgive you again."

She was about to answer, but the door was suddenly open and Draqos walked in. He noticed the marks on her jawline, he saw the tears in her eyes and the way she looked away from him, avoiding any eye contact. He clenched his jaw as he bowed in front of them, wanting nothing to scream at Maegor for hurting such a delicate maiden like her.

He hid his rage towards the prince as a serious semblance was drawn in his face, clearing his throat before he made his announcement.

"Prince, Princess… The Dowager Queen is here," he informed. 

Aenelys looked up at Maegor, trying to find the same surprise on his face, but he remained nonchalant to the words of the knight, almost as if he was expecting his mother to arrive. 

Before Aenelys could express her confusion, Visenya entered the dining room, dressed with her riding attire and wearing an unreadable expression on her stern visage. The princess noticed how her eyes scanned her body, her expression slightly changing when she noticed the marks on her neck, but returning to be a hard look when she paid further attention to the marks that were left by her son's tight grip.

"Mother," Maegor greeted her, bowing before her and grabbing her hand to kiss the back of it. "What brings you here?"

"I'm afraid I've come all this way to inform you both of something not very pleasant," she started, her voice low and almost lacking any emotion. Visenya turned to look at Aenelys and she sighed as she grabbed her hands; it was at that moment that the princess felt her heart skip a beat. "Is your father, princess," Visenya sighed.

"My father?" She asked with slight confusion. 

Visenya looked at her son before looking back at the girl in front of her.

 "The King unexpectedly died last night in Dragonstone."

She felt the tears clouding her eyes, her nose itching and that agonizing feeling on her chest. She covered her lips with her hand as a sign of shock and disbelief, feeling as if the world had fallen on her shoulders and the weight of guilt was pressing against her chest, causing her to breathe rapidly and unevenly. Aenelys looked at Maegor, whose face was lacking any surprise - she was too shocked to recognize the mischievous glint on his devilish eyes. 

"How… How did it happen?" she managed to speak between deep breaths and sobs. 

"The war weakened him," she explained. Aenelys was taken aback by this new information. 

Information that Maegor already knew and decided to hide from her.

"What war?" Aenelys asked again.

"The war with the Faith Militant," she explained, "The High Septon took your disappearance as an offense, for his niece is Maegor's legitimate wife. People in King's Landing are accusing your father of promoting this relationship between you both, and they raised against his reign." 

Her dress suddenly felt tighter, the difficulty to breath making her gasp as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes looked at Draqos, the despair and desperation was clearly visible in her face. He took a step forward, but Maegor grabbed her first. The princess buried her face on his chest while his hand went to her hair, cooing against her ear while she uncontrollably sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears. 

Suddenly, the entire discussion with Maegor was easily forgotten, for the pain in her heart was bigger and almost unbearable. The guilt making it impossible for her to calm down.

"Your mother and siblings are waiting for you in Dragonstone for the funeral," Visenya informed her, "King's Landing and the Iron Throne are now empty…" 

Aenelys thought it was quite odd the way she pronounced those kasts words, but her mind was too blurry to even try to process them. Maegor, however, found himself understanding the message between the lines, and he held her close to his chest and gave a soft nod to his mother. Things had never been clearer.

It was time for him to take what was rightfully his, claim his position as King of the Seven Kingdoms, and make Aenelys his queen.

Everything went exactly how he wanted.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN'T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy @padfooteyes

SINNERS TAG LIST — @hypocritic-trash-baby @misspendragonsworld @hangmanscoming @caramelcandescence @cold-v0dka @bellstwd @angeliod @uniquecroissant @winxschester @mrswhitethornbelikov @amygdtjhddzvb @vixemi @beebeechaos

[ttorturedpoet]

𝓗 𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅 .˚˖𓍢ִ໋

jill valentine x fem!reader.

CONTENT WARNING: mention of sex (nothing explicitly)

SUMMARY: exwife!jill headcanons that i had during a crisis.

NOTES: I don't know anything about a divorce 🥲 also, english isn't my first language.

→ So, i was rewatching death island with my father yesterday and it made me thought about exwife!jill, but, with a kid in the middle of it! (i have something with kids, ik)

→ Let's say the reason for the divorce was the most common one we see with people working as agents: the lack of attention they give to their spouse, and probably, their child as well.

→ Jill loved you, of course she did, but as soon as *you* asked for the divorce, she was devastated, naturally.

→ If the house were yours or even hers, she would move out, leaving the house for you and your guys' kid. She always prioritized both of you over her own choices or what was best for her; it wouldn't be different now.

→ She would still fulfill, or try to fulfill, her role as a mother. Even when you were together, she didn't have much time for you and the boy, and although it would be more challenging now, she would always make time for your son. She grew up with an absent mother and didn't want to pass that on.

→ If you worked as she did before and were now working again with missions to attend, she would do her best to take care of the child, maybe having to let them stay with Claire sometimes, but she would still try.

→ She would still look at you the way she did before, sometimes with her hand on your waist or letting an old pet name slip. She would feel guilty in the same second if it made you uncomfortable.

→ Jill would be there every time you needed her. Car broke down when the kid had to go to school? No problem! She would be there in a second, even knowing it's very early on one of her few days off. The child needs medicine? She would be at your doorstep ten minutes later with a bag of prescribed medications.

→ But then, one of the times she was at your house, taking care of the child while you were at the market. The rain was already pouring by the time you arrived, after Jill had given dinner to the child because you weren't there due to traffic.

"I already put him to bed. He tried to wait for you, you know?" Jill sipped her coffee from one of the cups she didn't recognize, probably bought after the divorce.

You nodded, finishing putting away the groceries in their respective places, standing up to face Jill. The rain got heavier outside; the sound of thunder was heard again.

"I think I should go. The city isn't the best normally, and with the rain, it'll only get worse," she said, her voice hesitant as she placed the cup in the sink, looking into your eyes for a brief moment before grabbing her keys from the coffee table.

She glanced at the kid again, making sure he's asleep as she left.

"Wait!" Jill's hand paused on the front door handle when she heard your voice behind her. "The rain is getting worse. Shouldn't you stay until it clears?"

→ The rain stopped two hours later, but by that point, you and Jill were already back in bed together, naked bodies touching, sleeping like married women together once again.

─── © spkderverse, 2024.

[physalian]

Take A Risk and Don’t Write a Chosen One

This trope stands the test of time for some very good reasons: Audience wish-fulfillment as they live vicariously through the hero, automatic plot-induced agency for your protagonist, and automatic legitimate reasons for your protagonist to join the whirlwind adventure of the day.

I like chosen ones. We all have our favorite famous chosen ones and I’m not here to say the concept of a chosen one is bad at all.

However.

Those “automatic” windfalls that come pre-packaged with the trope can lead to the author taking shortcuts, or not thinking they have to put in more effort to write a compelling character, because they’re the “chosen one,” what more do you need?

Not writing your protagonist as commanded by the powers that be to participate in the plot forces you to get creative with why they’re here, what they want, and how they entrench themselves in the story. And most importantly, if the gods haven’t chosen them to act, they must now choose themselves to act.

—

I have never read Harry Potter and after its author-who-shan’t-be-named flushed her reputation down the toilet, I never will. I’ve seen the movies, they’re ok. I have no nostalgia-driven love for this franchise, and most of that comes from watching Harry be an incredibly boring protagonist.

Book readers correct me, but Harry is the poster child of “only exists so the audience can live vicariously” with generic heroic traits and nonexistent or at least unimportant side quirks and distinguishing hobbies, interests, or personality tics. He’s “brave” and “courageous” and “determined”... as most child protagonists of children’s books should be. He has zero flaws that come back to bite him in the ass. He acts the way he’s supposed to, not the way he should want to, as an independent being.

He’s the least interesting character in this entire cast, and I can’t stand Movie Ron. Ron, Hermione, Neville, or Draco would have made much more compelling protagonists and so much of this relies on the “Harry is important because the plot demands it” crutch.

Why is he the chosen one? Because his birthday happened at the right time of year? What is the story trying to say about the dichotomy between him and Voldemort? What about his personality, his wizard-societal stances on the many faux pas in this series, or the choices he makes, that makes him the chosen one? Why should I care?

You know who’s a great chosen one? Percy Jackson. Why? Because he understands the screwed up world he lives in on page 1. Being a demigod isn’t everything he ever dreamed and despite what Disney + wants you to believe, he’s got a crap bio dad who’s as disappointing in book one as Percy expects him to be.

He’s not even the chosen one by the end of the original series, and what a fantastic twist that was.

An infamously self-chosen protagonist has her own iconic hero quote: "I volunteer as tribute". Katniss is a nobody. She's not the evil president's daughter, she's not the child of a famously martyred revolutionary, she's just a girl who refuses to bow down to the reaping, refuses to let her sister get slaughtered, and volunteers for a death match that historically sees anyone living to survive another year cowering in relief. Yeah, she has some convenient skills in her archery and survival knowledge, but those matter because her district is starving, she learned through necessity.

Every second of her story, Katniss is fighting for her right to exist, and she only becomes a "chosen one" dragged around by the powers that be when she becomes marketable to the grand scheming of the actual revolutionaries, when, before, she didn't care about politics, she just wanted to save her sister. She matters because she chose compassion in a world where survival demands only serving yourself.

—

It’s so, so easy to start planning your book and make your cool fantasy world and figure out how your protagonist fits into it. So easy to say “well they’re the long-lost princess and the only heir to the throne” or “this magic amulet from her great great aunt is the key to saving the world” or “she’s the villain’s secret love child and the only one who can stop him because blood magic” or “this vague prophecy picked this little desert slave boy to bring balance to the Force”.

None of these stories are at fault for writing chosen ones.

But push yourself to let go of that crutch and come up with other reasons for why your hero is the hero. Usually this character has been isekai'd into magical-fantasy-land or magical-hidden-fantasy-urban-underbelly and you can still write that character.

Refusing to make them the chosen one demands one thing first and foremost: How is this outsider going to fight for their place to exist here? What do they bring to the table with their hobbies or interests or unique skillset that happens to be mighty applicable and useful in this new world? What is it about their personality that draws these strangers in? What do they want from this new world, and what are they willing to do to get it?

This choice demands you give your hero agency (though whether you give into those demands is up to you).

More importantly: I think it gives your audience agency, as they still live vicariously through their hero. Sure, lots of kids have lost their parents and live in horrid conditions like a cupboard under the stairs, but none of us will ever be “chosen” by omniscient wizard prophets. Harry would have immediately been a more compelling protagonist to me if he’d stumbled upon magical shenaniganry and fought for his place as some forgotten nobody mudblood.

Harry would have shown us his courage, instead of the story insisting he has it, we promise, just don’t think too hard about it.

Stop giving me characters who accept their destiny because God said so. Give me characters who fight tooth and nail for a destiny they discover on their own and I’ll root for them to succeed even more than someone compelled by force. Not everyone can be a chosen one, but everyone *can* choose themselves and decide to act.

—

With that said, I have an announcement! I have a new book in the works bereft of a prophecy-ordained hero. It’s time I put all my sagely writing wisdom to the test in a shiny published paperback myself. If you’ve learned anything from my blog in your writing journey, please subscribe for updates on the upcoming novel!

[vaguely-concerned]

after some reflection I've reached the conclusion that to my mind nona the ninth did need to be its own book -- not in terms of delivering the plot or character developments, necessarily, but to be a thematic mirror to harrow the ninth in a way I don't think you could have done if this was also trying to do its job as the last book of a trilogy.

harrow the ninth is about the horror of nothing changing -- the grim, unending slog of mental illness, the inexorable method in madness grinding along, grinding you down, moment upon moment; it's about how grief can seem to create its own pockets of eternity. it's about how some things can only be remembered in forgetting.

nona the ninth is about the horror of everything changing all the time forever -- the people you love, until they aren't quite the people you loved any more, the places you love, until it's become somewhere you can never go back to, the world, every day -- you, until you die one way or another, in truth or in no longer recognizing yourself. you go to school for the hour of science and noodle every day, until one day you just don't anymore, and nothing can be done about that. nona is about 'life is too short, and love is too long', but also 'you can't take 'loved' away'. pyrrha, who's tried for ten thousand years to kill her feelings but "Don't worry, kiddie. I'll keep loving you -- my problem is I don't know how to stop." even when it just hurts us, we love. we just can't help ourselves. and at the end alecto remembers herself (itself?), which means forgetting nona.

the strange paradoxical comfort of madness vs. the unbearable loneliness of sanity. harrow is mad, and for all her suffering it keeps her from having to face the most inconceivable, the thing she can't live with: a universe without gideon. cam and pal are so so sane, and they can't bear it. they die to live in a way they can... uh, well, live with, and it's a crazy thing to do but it's the kindest thing they could find for themselves. the world of harrow the ninth is so dead and deadened, and the world of nona is so unbearably alive.

(ironically ntn was a much more difficult read for me than htn, because the way htn works is already so close to how my own mind works (yes, unfortunately, really. no, I'm not okay, but not in a way anyone can do anything about with any immediacy so let's ignore that for now lol). I understand the logic of it intimately, for all it looks confusing if you just see the surface. but the ongoing nature of the restless dread in ntn -- the way you love these people, and through the book they keep drifting away from you so steadily and gradually that you can't even put your finger on exactly when you really lost them as they were at the beginning. at the end, when pyrrha is carrying nona because she can't stand anymore (carrying her in 'the halo of her arms'...... god. yes, that is what a parent feels like for a child huh), I vicariously felt what I suspect is pyrrha's train of thought as well that like... what if you could just hold her close enough, love her hard enough, that she won't have to go, that she could get to live. what if you could just refuse to let go of her, what if you could be strong enough for that. and one person in this universe is that strong-- why would you let someone go -- away from you -- untouchable? John's obsession with being able to touch his loved ones, except he's so profoundly fucked up he doesn't understand any way to do it but to make them into extensions of himself, to consume them and transform them into himself, the very hungry caterpillar style -- he wanted to touch so he made them his hands, and he doesn't understand why it doesn't fulfil him. and thank god pyrrha has the soul and sense to understand why you can't just eat what you love, narrowly, but I still wanted her to be able to still hold nona and protect her from everything including death so fucking bad, and of course she can't. that's the tragedy of it, that's the beauty of it. love doesn't change anything, and we just can't help but love anyway, and it changes everything, and it's all we can do sometimes. fuck I'm going to need a lot of lying face down on the floor for a few hours to process this book huh lmao)

[ceruleanwhore]

So I’ve seen a lot of headcanons and fics floating around the Cybird/Ikemen fandom spaces about pregnancy or having children, but I have yet to see any childfree content at all, as @sevenai pointed out in a post they made about ikevamp. As such, I’ve put together a list of childfree headcanons for all the ikevamp men for those of us who want such things.

Napoleon — After the tragedy of his only legitimate son’s premature death during his life, I think it’s perfectly plausible that he would not want to try to produce another child of his own. Besides, the children he teaches with Isaac do more than enough to fill the void and warm his heart. I imagine that, at some point, the topic of children would come up and, when his partner would nervously disclose that she doesn’t actually want to have any of their own, he would feel relief.

Leo — Being in a relationship with anyone at all (especially a human) is already more than enough heartbreak, I don’t think he could handle producing a child of his own that he would then have to watch die someday even though no parent should ever outlive their child.

Mozart — This man is obsessive about cleanliness and absolutely cannot tolerate noise. There’s no way in hell he’s ever having a kid.

Arthur — He had five children in his life and so I feel like, for him, he’s already done that and sufficiently fulfilled that desire, so now he doesn’t feel the need to do it over again in this second life. I think he’d be willing to give it a go if that’s what his partner wanted, but I also think he’d be just as content not to.

Vincent — I get that in ikevamp he’s a sweet boy, but he has a past full of tremendous mental health struggles, and I think he’d be afraid of passing that to any potential children. I also think he would be worried about his ability to care for a child.

Isaac — Dude’s already worried he’s going to snack on Comte’s ferret or something, like being in a relationship with a human is PLENTY for him to worry about. Also, he’s a good person who views himself as a dangerous monster, which means he definitely won’t be having kids any time soon. Plus, like Napoleon, he has their little gaggle that they teach and that is genuinely plenty for him. Yeah, I think he’d be perfectly happy to have his partner tell him that there is no desire for children on their part.

Theo — I think he’d be more apathetic about children, where he doesn’t really have a desire for them but he would be willing to have kids if that’s what his partner wanted. He already has his partner, his bother, and his career, and that is more than enough for him to be happy.

Jean — First off, Jean is 19. Secondly, he hates himself and what he is, like Carlisle from Twilight. Maybe he would’ve wanted kids in life, but there is no way in hell he’d want to create half vampire spawn.

Will — Given that he was always running away from his wife and kids in his life, I think it’s safe to assume he never wanted them, even before he died. I think, given the context of his real marriage with Anne, he would be grateful to discover that his partner doesn’t want to have kids with him and it would be another indicator to him that this relationship is actually a good match.

Comte — I think he has no desire of his own for children and I also think he is hella devoted to whoever he chooses to be in a relationship with and will do anything to make them happy, so even if he did want kids he still would 100% fold to a childfree partner. There’s also that element of tragedy like with Leonardo that we’ll also see with Vlad.

Dazai — He’s either actively suicidal or very recently got better and definitely does not feel like he has the capacity to care for a child. Also, someone who hates themselves so much they’d choose to become a vampire solely so they could live long enough to kill their infant self is definitely not going to want to reproduce. Like Isaac, he sees himself as dangerous and I don’t think he would trust himself with something like having kids and I think that being in a relationship is already massively stressful for him.

Sebastian — He has a terminal illness, so there could be concern about passing whatever it is to any future children. He also probably would just not want to have to subject children to dealing with his inevitable, premature death. Even without all that, like if he can get magically cured by Faust or something, I don’t really see him actively wanting to have children, like I think he’d be more of a “travel the world with your partner in a delightfully comfortable DINK arrangement” kind of guy.

Vlad  — Yeah I think he’d 100% just be a “whatever you want” guy who values his partner above all else, including potential people who don’t exist yet.

Faust  — He’s kinda weird with kids tbh in a way that reminds me of myself — uncomfortable but kind of nice and gives in easily to whatever they want — which makes me think he doesn’t really like them and doesn’t really want them. I could see him kind of wanting to reproduce with a human as an experiment, but I really don’t see him genuinely desiring to have children.

Charles  — I get the vibe that he’ll be a very possessive yandere once he’s in a relationship and won’t want to share his partner with anyone at all, including potential children of their own. He actually gives me the impression that even if his partner came to him and shared that they genuinely wanted to have children with him, he might insist they not because of this trait of his.

[beanghostprincess]

You know, I was thinking a bit about the monster trio and how they all respect food a lot. And it got me thinking about their respective reasons to.

Sanji started resoecting it after being stranded and starving for 6 months, he knew how it felt to be hungry and he doesn't want anyone else to feel like this again. You also got the fact that he is a cook so of course he respects food.

Zoro I am not really sure since I don't remember any specific incident in his life, but its probably due to the strict discipline and culture he was raised in. After all he got raised with Wano costums and Wano is inspired by east asia, mainly Japan. And I might get it wrong but there is some kind of occurence where its rude to not finish your food, and its considered preciois.

Luffy has his whole thing that he just loves to eat and its mostly a gag but I dug in more deeply and...

Did Garp use to fucking starve that child?

I mean, its mostly an assumption, but when Luffy first went to Dadan's place to live she only gave him a bowl of rice and a cup of water and told him he had to work for his food. She excpected him to cry but he just went "Ok. Better than my grandad treats me".

Did Garp just fed Luffy if he completed his trainings (that involved him doing near death experience as a <7 years old CHILD) and/or only made him eat what he hunted? Is that what it is? This whole gag, of Luffy being a glutton, cherishing every piece if food he eats DEFEATING THE WORLD'S STRONGEST CREATURE, FOR A BOWL OF RICE comes from the fact that, as a child, food was quite literally just a rewards, and to him food = freedom, and he loves freedom?

Garp, I swear to Nika-

I've always loved the way OP treats food. Not gonna go full analysis on that because I'm pretty sure one already exists, but Oda keeps wanting to put food/eating in a good light. Food means life and happiness and whenever there's an important scene going on, somebody's eating. It's beautiful. It's surprisingly one of the main traits of Luffy's character. I find it beautiful how the manga keeps showing that food brings happiness and fulfillment. That everybody deserves to eat and that it could never be a bad thing.

We know already why Sanji respects food so much so there's no need to explain it. But you know. Starvation? The way his mom kept hyping up his passion for cooking? His whole character revolves around food and how nobody deserves to starve. Eating shouldn't be a privilege but most of the time it is and people should be thankful they're able to enjoy their delicious meals. So he doesn't waste food because he sees it as a life and happiness source that not most people have access to and it shouldn't be wasted.

Zoro's views are really respectful when it comes to everything. Traditions and rules? Zoro respects that. He's the one who knows the most about pirate language and tradition, so of course he's gonna respect Sanji's views on food. But it isn't just because of that because he already respected food way before joining the crew. It comes from his views on life. Food is necessary for people to live and he respects death a lot (ever since what happened to Kuina) and mortality is something real and present to him constantly. He respects food the way he respects death and life and mortality.

And Luffy... I'd say yes, perhaps it does have something to do with how Garp raised him. It makes sense although I've never actually thought about it that way. But it does look like he has always had to fight for food. But he doesn't only see food as something to fight for because Makino also prepared meals for him. I think the whole point about Luffy and food is freedom (I mean, obviously. God of the Sun and Freedom. We know how it goes). Eating is something necessary to live, but Luffy doesn't see it as a threat. It isn't "Eat or Die" for him. For him, he chooses to eat because food is good for his body and it's delicious, and eating out of pleasure and not just hunger is also part of his character. He's a man who's always starving but for more experiences and tastes and freedom, and he takes food without hesitating once because you shouldn't apologize never, ever for eating.

While Sanji sees food as something he can do for others (he's always starving and making food for everybody else because he's selfless like that and the show wants you to see it), Zoro respects food the same way he respects mortality because it's something necessary to live, and Luffy loves food because it's... Because it's just good, you know? Maybe it isn't that deep. Maybe he eats because he wants to and that's okay. He unapologetically eats and he's selfish about it and that's how it should be.

[itonashi]

NEVER the SAME

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, more will be added.

ARTICLE

THE FAMOUS CHILD ACTOR [NAME] YOSHINO SHOW HER GENIUS MIND IN A REALITY SHOW!

[Name] Yoshino got a mind that's an adult and make her way through the reality show. Making a name for herself 'The Child Who Can Ace Anything' . The child actor have become viral through her personality and talent. Her parent claimed that they are open to let their child go their own path in the future.

What will [Name] Yoshino show more about her talent in the future?

"An article about me..." You mumble while mindlessly eating the dessert that was given to you as reward by your mother. After the released of the episode reality show you were in, you got an article written for you.

'Well, it's only fair they do that for me.'

Your eyes were locked at the tv when suddenly your mother picked you up "[Nickname], do you like idol?" She said with a smile. "Idol?" You mumble the word while looking at your mother's eye. She looked at you dead straight in the eye, waiting for you to answer her question.

"Yes, I do like idols." Her eyes lit up and she snuggle you while squealing. Does she want you to be an idol? It seems so. That crushed dream of yours were never fulfilled as you were busy researching and helping the world. That's right, being an idol was one of your dream.

It's a shame you couldn't be that.

"You think too highly of me, [Name]. My era already ended. There will be no Diva Eden anymore. Who knows? Maybe it will be you this time." Eden, one of your friend in the world organization. She was the brightest star but it all ended. She muttered those word with a tint of sadness.

"I'm just a scientist."

"Do you want to be an idol?"

"Yes."

"Yay! I love you so much, my dear [Nickname]! I'll put in good word for you at a biiiiggg company!"

Was being an idol my mother's wish before? If it is for her. I could do it. After all, the reason I became a scientist at my past life was because I cared too much about promises and wishes — but, I don't care in the slightest. If I can top the world, then so be it.

Let's just fast forward to high school, shall we?

You're in your third year of Yoto Highschool and it has been three years you've become an idol. A soloist specifically. You got into a big company so it was natural you straight up turn popular when you debuted.

What people didn't understand was why did you choose the general program? You are an idol. The reason was you thought that you should balance it out. Being an idol is already tiring enough when people want you to act in a show too.

"Yoshino!" A male voice called out to you in a hurry. You faced him and tilt your head "What's wrong, Masaru?" He stopped infront of you and took a breath "Explain this." He hold up his phone up your face that you had to lean back.

ARTICLE

DOES SOLOIST [STAGE NAME] HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH MASARU AOI FROM THE IDOL GROUP X1?

People said they were seen a lot together at school. Students from there speculate they could be dating with how much they're together. Even in music shows they could be seen interacting.

"I don't know anything about this." You said with a neutral tone. "I'll make a live today to clear out this misunderstand and you should too." You added while looking at him straight in the eyes, he nod and stuff back his phone into his pocket.

"Then, I suggest we don't meet eachother as much."

"You're the one who kept 'bumping' into me. You're literally in the performing arts program."

"Geh! I'm sorry."

"I'll be going now."

Kana Arima was showing the twin around the school like that... To be honest, I don't what she was doing but you get the point.

She also pointed out some people from the performing arts program on who they are.

"That one is an actor."

"Those two are from a big idol group."

Something like that, of course she couldn't miss on one person that's practically more famous than her. She just had to point out that [Name] Yoshino was in the same school as them.

"And that big crowds of people looking at someone is [Name] Yoshino's fanclub. Are you surprised that someone like her is here? Well, you better be!"

"Welcome to Yoto Highschool! Oh, just a reminder that [Name] is on the general department." Kana Arima reminded the twin. To be honest, the twin wasn't surprised that [Name] was here. I mean, it was already leaked to the public on where she get education from.

But Ruby couldn't help but gush out of happiness knowing that she could meet [Name] Yoshino out in the flesh! "I can't believe I'm actually seeing [Name]! She's so beautiful! Don't you think so Aqua?" Ruby cried out of happiness towards her brother.

Then she realized something, it hit her hard into reality. She slump "She's in the general department and she's a third-year..." She said with a low voice before continuing "And you, Aqua! You're in the same department as her! I'm jealous!" Ruby exclaimed with the clear evident of her jealousy tone while pointing finger at her brother.

Aqua looked at Ruby with bored eyes, and looked at the crowd that is still gushing over [Name] amazing features. I mean who wouldn't, Aqua won't deny that she's a beautiful person. Especially after seeing her in real life.

While Ruby is raging over the fact that Aqua may or may not see her everyday from now on . "Can't we get to class now?" Aqua said, looking at Ruby with bored eyes. Ruby stop her behavior and agreed not before crossing her arms and puffing out of jealousy.

"[Name], that guy from that middle school has been staring at you for a long time, you know?" ■■■■ pointed out beside you, you glanced at your guy friend and glanced to the guy that had been staring at you. The guy noticed you know that he had been staring at you and look down blushing.

"Just let him be. It looks like he isn't the type of guy to harm me. No need to get too protective over me, ■■■■. It'll be okay." You chuckle lightly, and looked at the sky.

Years later, you never thought that the guy from your past that was from that middle school would be your lover.

How lucky Goro Amamiya is...

A/N: hi, im back! it has been a long time hasn't it? life had been hectic but i managed to made one chp lol.

TAGLIST : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa @pandaswitch @ignorxntf00l @nambii @kenma-izhu @lumiriai @luvkvni @atomi-mi @sentieence @yevene @valeriele3 @theday-dreamer17

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itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

[realityandrebirth]

Green

Three scenes from an alternate universe. | A piece I'm never going to finish.

Warnings for mentioned/implied death.

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The Chosen Hero

When she first met him, Harumi thought Lord Garmadon's weapons were glowing with the power that allowed him to kill the Great Devourer. But that was a long time ago, and Harumi had not only learned that the Golden Weapons were not his, but that they were glowing because of her.

"I can't be the Green Ninja," she told him. "I don't want to defeat you! I hate the ninja!"

"I know," Garmadon said, "and that is why I took you in. Had the ninja realized who you were, they would have forced you to fight against me–but I changed that!" He glanced back at her with a grin. "With the Green Ninja on my side, my victory is assured!"

Harumi nodded, but she still felt uneasy. The sea air was cold, and she had never been so far from Ninjago. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she said.

"I was afraid you would want to fulfill the prophecy. I understand now I had no reason to worry." Garmadon adjusted the sail and squinted through the fog. "If my calculations are correct, we should be reaching the dark continent soon…"

She wrung her hands together. "I'll never fulfill the prophecy," she said. "I won't be their Green Ninja."

"Yes, that's what I'm counting on. A-ha!"

The sailboat ran aground. Garmadon stepped out into the shallow water and picked up Harumi, putting her on his shoulders. "This will give us what I need to conquer Ninjago," he said. "I will rule over them as Lord Garmadon–and you will be my princess! Let's go!"

Harumi nodded. "The ninja will pay," she said.

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The Prized Possession

"Fix your posture," the ghost hissed. "Pull back harder. You've got living muscles, boy. Use them."

"I know what I'm doing," Lloyd said, and he set the arrow loose. It sailed through the forest brush and pierced the center of the target he had drawn on a tree. Soul Archer examined it and nodded in approval–the highest possible praise from him.

"Your targets won't be trees," he said. "Your next lesson is moving targets."

"I can hit moving targets," Lloyd said. "Ghoultar, throw me a puffy pot sticker!"

"Okay!" Ghoultar bellowed, and he tossed one of the dumplings into the air. An arrow promptly pinned it to a branch. While Ghoultar mourned the wasted food, Lloyd turned to Soul Archer with a smirk, only to be met with a disapproving scowl.

"I'm not training you to show off, boy," he said. "You have a destiny to fulfill."

"I know!" Lloyd protested. "I'm ready for it!"

He yelped as a third ghost grabbed his hoodie and hoisted him off the ground. "You'll be ready when she says you are," Bansha hissed. "You have a long way to go before you can think about seeing your father again."

Lloyd clenched his jaw. "I will be worthy of serving the Preeminent," he said carefully. "I will free my father and kill the Green Ninja."

Bansha dropped him. "Then get back to work," she said.

He stood up and summoned another ghostly arrow. "Moving targets," he said to Soul Archer. "What do I need to know?"

It was easy to hit every mark when he pictured Harumi's face on the target–the girl who had stolen his father from him.

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The Quiet One

"Your parents built this?" Harumi said, following the prince deeper into the palace. The floor was stone carved with intricate runes and symbols, and the air was cold enough to make her shiver.

"They had it commissioned," Morro said. He didn't seem bothered by the cold. Harumi knew very little about the adopted son of Ninjago's emperor and empress, just that he was a sickly child who shared a name with Master Wu's first student. For a long time, his adoption had not been announced for fear he would die before adulthood, but as it went, the heir had outlived his parents. He looked healthy enough, Harumi thought to herself, keeping an eye on him.

"It was done in utmost secrecy," he continued. "The contractors were paid very well. My parents had very specific needs."

"Did they need a haunted mansion?" Harumi muttered.

Morro laughed. "They needed a temple."

He stopped at the entrance of a large room. Harumi peered over his shoulder and gasped.

The three oni masks the ninja had failed to protect lay on three pedestals. Harumi's hand went to her sword.

"What's the matter?" Morro said, not looking at her.

"You have the oni masks," she hissed. "You're working with the Sons of Garmadon!"

"I'm more than working with them," Morro said. "Disarm her."

Harumi didn't know what he meant until a blow hit her shoulder. She yelped and dropped her sword. Strong arms wrapped around her middle and hoisted her up in the air. She recognized Killow's laugh as she struggled.

"What do you want?!" she shouted. "You have the oni masks! Now what?!"

Morro turned away. "My parents wanted a child," he said, "and after several failed attempts, they didn't think they would ever have one. They resorted to drastic measures."

"What are you talking about?!"

More Sons of Garmadon appeared out of the shadows. Morro snapped his fingers. "They had very specific needs," he said again. "They needed an obedient child, someone to teach and train, to mold into their image. A quiet one, even."

Harumi grit her teeth. "You're awfully chatty for the Quiet One," she snapped.

"I was not the child they wanted, no." Morro turned around and grinned. "They may have built the Temple of Resurrection, but they had no idea who they would get."

Her eyes widened. Memories flashed in her mind; You lost your parents? Morro said. I'm sorry to hear it. It must have been a tragedy.

She shook her head and planted a kick directly in Killow's gut. He swore and dropped her. Harumi darted away before he could grab her again. The rest moved to restrain her–Morro raised a hand and they froze.

"I'll make a deal with you," he said. "You let me resurrect who I want, and maybe I'll give you a turn."

[navarice]

my dearest fellow mdzs stans, i really don't want to spoil anyone's fun but sometimes some things must be said. please do NOT mistake fanon characteristics for canon characteristics because by GOD is it frustrating to dissect a character when all anyone wants to do is blindly turn away from the very vivid and metastasizing flaws.

jiang cheng is an extremely complicated character, and that's why we love him. but by god, he is a jealous, self-victimizing asshole with a massive inferiority complex who likes to torture (probably) innocent look-a-likes of his (as far as he knew) dead adjacent family member. jesus christ this isn't some simple case of miscommunication (well it is but, you know no amount of communication will ever mend the giant chasm that developed between them. especially not with asians raised within the most classical case of asian parenting, i mean come on now) but a matter of deep and intense self-loathing developed since early childhood projecting violently outwards. let me be clear. he hates wei wuxian. he loathes him. he wants to kill him with his own hands again and again so some part of his convoluted sense of justice and superiority will be fulfilled. he's a classist, a bully, and abusive to everyone around him. ong at the end of mdzs, i was nearly crying tears of joy when jin guangyao flayed him flat on his ass bc that man needed to hear it. he needed to feel it. he needed to stop blaming others and blame himself.

and!! he's homophobic!! the entire cultivation world is, yes, but he's the only one we see give wei ying and lan zhan active shit for it!!

point is...his complexity makes him interesting. as a child, he was pretty alright tbh. he was understandably upset when three of his dogs got taken away and he saw his dad give a completely random kid such a gentle hug when jiang cheng never received one so far. he was a kid, and it was sad and helped the readers get a glimpse at the already dysfunctional family dynamics before wei ying came into the picture. as an adolescent/teen, yes he had a lot of unresolved rage and inferiority issues building up when he was constantly being compared to wei wuxian by his mother and not given enough reassurance from his father (once again, all present before wei ying...everyone just likes to dump the shit on him bc it's easier to point fingers at others than at yourself). perhaps he could have turned out differently if literally either of his parents stepped up and took accountability. however, after the burning of lotus pier? after the golden core transfer? after wei ying stuck around as his subordinate just as he promised, and protected jiang cheng like he promised, and defected just to save the yunmeng clan's reputation so jiang cheng doesn't have to put up with the other clan's shit, still continuing to keep his promise? after wei ying's death? idk abt y'all, but all bets are off bro.

mxtx makes it a point to make him so irredeemable. he's an exploration of what can go wrong if you let your traumas, self-hatred, and revenge fantasies blind you. he has the worst traits of his parents for a reason, directly contrasting with the other sibling, who is a perfect picture of eldest daughters born into a dysfunctional family. jiang yanli has the best traits of her parents (in terms of compassion and standing up for her family), but the family dynamics also made her the way she was. the responsible, the mediator, the occasional mother, stepping in where madam yu cannot.

there's just so much potential to hold him accountable buried under the pretense of misunderstandings and kinnie moments. he just had so many chances, more than any other character, to make a different choice. to actually look past his misgivings and unlearn the bad habits he used to protect himself as a child. i'm not saying he has to magically heal from all his traumas, but at the very least know not to be like his parents. but he wasn't written that way. because that is what happens when you give into your insecurities and generational trauma.

bottom line: jiang cheng is a fantastic archetype that needs to be explored in all his authenticity, including his moments of loyalty and cruelty.