#event: the vile king

[dgrailwar]

Round 8, Day 3 - All Teams (but mostly Team Pretender)

The Avenger had heavily wounded him, the Wyrm had made no progress, and the Mors… well, the Pretender had expected them to struggle, he was actually surprised that they put up a fight against Alter-Ego. He watched as the Avenger shot out of the maw of the Abyssal Wyrm before it could shut, trapping him for eternity.

And, he thought to himself. Reflected over how the day had gone. Real introspective stuff.

"Go figure, when you force the conceptual wrath of the planet to manifest far away from the damn planet, it has a hard time manifesting. If we were in Britain, this would be a cinch... not whatever messed up virtua-planet we've been stuck on."

"Well, time for Plan B."

He spoke up, his voice echoing from the outside of the Abyssal Wyrm as it began to slow down.

"I give up."

The words hung in the air for a moment.

The rest of the Servants stared, still stuck in the destruction created by the Wyrm, dumbfounded.

"Can he do that? Ruler, is that allowed?"

"Well… Gunner attacked everyone and then simply returned as if nothing happened. So I suppose it isn't... unfounded."

"…That's true, I did do that."

"So… it's over…?"

"I'm not stupid. What? Do I just sit as a punching bag and then die? Not a chance. So, I'm going to sit out because I've been a bad boy, and I guess the Overseer can work on restoring everything to how it was, and then I'll join back in the fight normal-style."

"Wait, you can't just..."

"Byeeeee."

He vanished into shadow.

You win! You beat the Raid Event... or something?

All Teams promised boosts for completion have been given an 'IOU' from Team Pretender instead! Cash them in at the end of the game for wacky prizes!

[themotherofblood]

Hey dear! I saw that you are accepting requests and would like to know if I can get an imagine nsfw with Daemon x poc fem! reader (may be Dornish) who was a dancer before marrying him, but she still has the activity as a hobby and one night when she misses dinner, worried Daem goes after her and finds her dancing, please?( feel free to ignore and sorry for my english)

I absolutely love this ask, however there will only be a small implementation of culture.

ghugroo~ an anklet made of gold bells and a red cloth, worn to dance classical south Asian styles.

masterlist | Part 2

smut, softie daemon (oral f) voyuerism-ish, tw: mentions of prostitution, purity culture and Otto Hightower

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

The floor of the Mirrored Place was cold under your bare feet, the entire palace was dim; other than a few candles that reflected light from one mirror to the other. Leaving the barren hall with a warm glow. There used to be much light in this hall before; when your mother and you danced. The entire Dornish court would gather to enjoy in the art your had inherited from her.

She was a Lysenese courtesan, thought to please men with her dancing from a young age. Her will to dance was different, not because it earned her a coin but she found solace in the sound of the music playing for her body to move on her own terms.

You were raised within the group of these courtesans, a sister hood that protected you at all costs. The reason you learned to dance was for the sheer entertainment of the other sisters, and an unshaken will to mirror everything your mother did. However everyone of them knew your fate since the day you learned to walk, you too would inherit the title of court dancer at the ripe age of five and ten. They protected you still, keeping you hidden in the back of the numbers performed.

Then came along Qoren Martell, on his many ventured to Essos and a budding relationship with the Triarchy, he had found your mother dancing for the Lys court; he had eyes for her and only her after that. The deal may have not been affluential and yet he returned home with your mother and a sister for his daughter Aliandra.

The court at Sunspear was different, mother only danced for familial festivals and taught various girls at court to dance for her joy. No one quite picked it up like you did. Qoren had an entire place made for her, the interior made completely of mirrors for her to dance in.

She passed ten summers before.

You danced for her memory, not on familial events or as a courtesan, Qoren would have anyone’s head if they even mentioned the possibility to you, as far as he cared you were his daughter. Blood or not. You danced in the secrecy of this abandoned palace, alone where only the walls could hear the jangles of your mother’s given ghungroos

That brought you today, and what ails your troubles.

Your marriage to prince Daemon Targaryen wasn’t one of secret, Daemon was sent as envoy from King’s Landing, hoping to settle the issue in the Stepstones. Again, the deal wasn’t particularly affluential, yet the Targaryen prince gained a wife. You.

It was a quaint Valyrian traditional wedding, one with your approval.

You’d fallen for the prince, and what was Qoren to do? Tell his beloved flower no? No she couldn’t have the dragon prince that wanted her just as much.

A royal wedding without the approval of king or his court was a dangerous affair, hence both you and Daemon remained at Old Palce, awaiting news. Whether you’d be presented or court or if Daemon was to whisk you away on his dragon to Pentos.

Daemon only grunted and groaned when you asked who would oppose what the dragon prince wanted

“Otto Hightower.”

Daemon’s words came true like a dying wish, a raven did indeed arrive from king’s landing that Qoren showed you first.

Vile words were used against you, as the king’s hand gathered information of your parentage and the two years you had worked as a court dancer with your mother.

Not that they were lies; you were a bastard, not even a Sand. Yet Qoren had fought tooth and nail to title you and your mother as princesses. Moreover they questioned your purity and how it would muddle the pure Targaryen blood Daemon seems to possess, concerns of what influence I might impose on his daughter by his late lady wife Laena. You grimaced at the thought of even teaching those young girls what the court at king’s landing insinuated. They weren’t wrong in their concerns, and here you hadn’t even told him you danced let alone that you were a courtesan.

Qoren believed that if he could have wed your mother while begin the head of the Martell family, what is a mere second son who cannot accept the apple of Qoren’s eyes. You had left the matter at that, hoping to just let it drown behind your thoughts.

Daemon wouldn’t shun you for this…would he?

The family had gathered for supper, rather large sum of Sand sisters and Aliandra along with your husband and your step daughters. Qoren frowned at your empty seat though he knew exactly where you would have gone after reading that letter.

You’d bent down to ties the ribbons securely against your ankles, the gold ghungroos held weight to them, yet for you moving them was as fluid as a swan. You tapped your feet twice, feeling the tightness of them before exhaling a ragged breath. You tucked the loose end of your shawl on the waist line of your skirts.

Your imagination did the work for you, hearing the beat of the percussion and flute in your head as you hummed the melody under your breath, rhythmic jangles of the bells on your ankles began to echo through the hall. You closed you eyes, picturing your mother dancing next to you. The smile on her face, finally dancing for her love of the art and not the perversions of men.

Your skirt flared out as your twirled, glimmering in the light of the candles, you kept dancing. Following every count in your head as you hands remembered the signs to make. The hard your feet tapped against the marble floors the louder the jangles echoed.

Your life wouldn’t be different if Daemon left you for knowing the truth, but you wondered if anyone would want you because of what you were forced to be. You moved around the room efffortlessly, you hips swaying at the imaginary sound of the strings.

You hadn’t realized your eyes watered until you flinched in fear, watching your husband leaning against the grand posts of the mirrored hall. You stopped, the twirl of your skirts coming to stop and pool around your legs.

His palms crashed together in an applause, a smile of admiration of his face. You noticed the parchment in his hands and he noticed you eyeing the message.

“Do you truly think I care if you were a courtesan?” He shook his head, moving towards you “You were a child.” He scoffed.

You blinked the tears of concern away, you couldn't help from a few others falling free too

“My mother found her prince in Qoren, I believed so had I in you and then this.” You felt vulnerable, “I would never expose your daughters to such vulgarity, that's why I never danced for them and I was pure on our wedding night; I swear it. I wou-” You rambled on, Daemon’s eyes softened as he held you face, he held moved his thumb atop your lip to shush you

“My love isn't so fickle that bloodless sheets would diminish its fire. You are mine, and I yours. I sweared it by fire and blood sweet girl.” He reassured you “That ought to mean something?”

“You would forsake your family for me?” You shook your head, unwanting of such loyalty.

“That cunt of hand is not my family, these are his words; not my brother’s” He sounded irked at the parchment. “I will present you to the court as a good and honourable princess of Dorne, if anyone has objections they may rely on it to Dark Sister.”

You were left speechless, perhaps you had found the right prince after all. You tried to make words form at the tip of your tongue and yet nothing came through

“And as for you dancing,” His voice lowered “You ought dance for your lord husband more often.”

You swatted his shoulder before throwing yourself at him, you nuzzled your face at the crook of his neck. He moved her head, letting his lips capture yours, moulding them and taking charge; exploring your mouth with his tongue. He had been so heated about it you had to pull away to breathe

“Caught me a little dancer.” He whispered, bending down to lift your over his shoulder

“Daemon!” You shrieked “What are you doing!”

“Admiring the art.”

He plopped you down onto the viewing nest, a collection of heavy comforters a pillows that were laid at the edges of the halls for people to lounge.

“We can’t- what if somebody catches us?” You argued as he adamantly began to to strip you like a child pawing at his present.

“Then they will find a prince worshipping his princess.” He said in annoyance, huffing at all the ties on your blouse. He then reached for his inner pockets and threw a key your way.

You sighed in relief, the doors to the palace were locked.

“So fucking beautiful,” He groaned as you breasts spilt free of it entrapment, he immediately latched on the pebbled flesh, suckling on one as her tweaked the other. You chest heaved, feeling his warm mouth assault your breasts. He unlatched himself before paying attention the the other.

“My pretty little wife.” He breathed out, pushing your skirts up and yanking the cotton leggings underneath off your legs. He leaned back onto his legs admiring your cunt, he let a glob of spit dribble onto your folds as his fingers smeared them all over.

One hand working on the eager bundle of nerves and the others scissored at you insides, that familiar warmth of pleasure began to spread through your body as whimpered from your husband. You ghungroo’s jangling as you spread your legs further. Daemon latched himself onto your bud, frantically licking at the little things. You shrieked out his name, feeling him smirk as he took you apart on his mouth.

Just as you reached the precipice of your pleasure he pulled away. A shameless whine tore through you making Daemon chuckle, “All in sweet time princess, just getting you ready for me.” He idly rubbed circles on your rose bud

“Daemon just fuck me.” You groaned in frustration making your husband’s eyes.

“Such filthy words, sweet girl.” He taunted, nearly pushing your legs to your shoulders, even the little strums of the bells on your ankles were taunting you.

“Please, please Daemon,” you whined pleadingly as he ran the leaky tip of his cock through your folds. “I want you!”

“Good girl, begging for her husband’s cock.” He grunted as he bottomed out within you.

Barely allowing you a moment to adjusted before setting a determined pace in pounding you cunt.

You looked up at him as his long silver locks shielded your face, he leaned down to kiss your lips, biting at the bottom of your lip. The ghungroos on your ankle rhythmically jangled to the thrusting of your husband’s hips. He leaned back, throwing your legs on his shoulder as his pounding turned animalistic.

“My pretty little dancer, all mine.” He groaned

Drowning in your own pleasures your agreed in series of all yours- all yours pouring from your lips, nearly far too lost in the sensations radiating of your body. You reached your hands upwards, wanting him closer as your back arched off the ground. He wrapped his hands around you back, letting your legs hug around his lower back as he pounded you to your peak.

“Y/N- gods.” He breathed out in your ear as his cock spurted ropes of his seed in your cunt.

There was Moment of serene peace as Daemon pulled out of you and fell next to you, untill you felt his spend spilling down onto your skirts and you groaned.

“You ruined my skirt,” you pouted, grimacing at the stains

“I’ll buy you hundreds more.” He huffed out, yanking you on top of him.

Just as you helped each other straighten out, he spend a while tying the ties of your blouse, peppering kisses on your back as you undid the ghungroos, quite sure they would have bruises your ankles by now.

There was yet another topic lingering on Daemon’s tongue that he wasn’t sure how you would take

“Rhaena found out at supper that you dance, she could use a teacher…” He said hesitantly, you frowned.

“Just as you learned from your mother, our little dragons could use a lesson or two from their mother.”

You pondered and then looked to him using the word mother.

“Rhaena will make a gorgeous little dancer.”

[hyperactively-me]

Hello hello do you have any thoughts of writing the reader in the king!ghost au getting kidnapped? Maybe graves or shepherd (if he's in the au) or just some random made up character was doing some operations with Simon and they decided to ditch Kastron, and abducted the reader to send her off to Simon's enemy? I think the reader could manage to run away by herself, or it is Simon who rescues her but she got some good intel while being held as a hostage.

Also, what do you think about the reader getting poisoned? I think the scenario could be like: there is a noble who wanted his daughter to be married to Simon, but Simon chose the reader instead, saying that brings more benefit to Kastron, and the noble is like okay so we get rid of her and then I can be the king's father in law🤔. So he bribed some of the maids in the kitchen+the queen's direct maids, and the reader ends up getting poisoned but didn't die due to the fast treatment of the royal doctor.

Or for a bit of more angst, the poisson was originally targeting Simon, but there had been some mistakes in the middle and it ended up in the reader's teacup.

I'm sorry if these aren't your preferences! Love your writings and your creativeness💕

alright, this work is about the second prompt in this ask!

(extras)

king!ghost x reader -- poison

warnings: attempted assassination, descriptions of physical reactions to being poisoned

You wake up each morning alongside Simon, surrounded by the tasks and responsibilities that comes with your status as the queen of Kastron— no easy job. As the rays of the sun filter through your ornate curtains, you find yourself reminiscing on your marriage with Simon.

Despite the trials that had marked the early days of your union, you and Simon had grown closer, forging a partnership and marriage that withstood your past qualms with each other. Now, you couldn't help but marvel at your blossoming love.

Your marriage was not without its challenges, particularly from a cunning nobleman, Lord Andrew, who had sought to secure his daughter's place as the queen of Kastron. He had tried diligently to get Simon to propose his daughter, forcing her to attend every event that would have the King present. However, when Simon had returned to Kastron with a bride in tow, choosing you over his daughter, the nobleman was furious.

Unbeknownst to you, the disgruntled nobleman had a sinister plan. He had envisioned a future where he would be the king's father-in-law, and to achieve this, he plotted to eliminate you from the equation. Lord Andrew was blinded by jealousy, greed, and the need for power.

His conniving plans led him to far, dark corners of the castle, where he bribed the maids in the kitchen to taint today's afternoon tea with poison. Lord Andrew's bribery extended to even your most trust attendants, who were lured in by the promises of money, power, and protection. So, that afternoon, one of the maids poured the vile of deadly poison into your teacup.

Little did the maids know that you would be having tea with Simon today.

You settle into your plush chair, sighing in relief as you lean back into the cushions. A few moments pass by and you're met with Simon entering the tea room.

"Afternoon, love," he greets, walking over and pressing a kiss to your cheek before sitting down in his own chair.

"Hey, Si! I'm glad you could make it so last minute," you respond, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you meet his warm gaze. The sunlight dances on the delicate porcelain of the tea set before you, casting a serene glow over the room.

"Wouldn't have missed it," he responds gruffly, a small smile quirking on the corner of his lips.

Suddenly, the doors to the tea room fly open, and you sigh contentedly when you see the maid carrying a tray with you and Simon's teacups.

"Ah, perfect timing," Simon remarks, his eyes brightening as the maid sets the tray down. "Could you make a second cup, please?"

You miss the way the maid's face pales when she sees Simon sitting across from you, swallowing thickly.

"Yes, of course, right away!" she squeaks.

You watch as she pours Simon the normal tea, her hands a little bit shaky. She sets one teacup in front of him, and the poisoned one in front of you. The aroma of freshly brewed tea fills the room, masking the poison hidden within the delicate porcelain.

The maid, knowing of the sinister plot she carries out, offers a polite yet patronizing curtsy. "Good afternoon, your majesties. Tea is served."

"Thank you," you acknowledge with a gracious smile, exchanging a brief glance with Simon. As the maid departs, you turn your attention back to Simon, making quiet conversation with him, letting your tea cool down.

Simon picks up his teacup, preferring his tea to be scalding when he drinks. He takes a few sips, savoring the taste on his tongue.

Your conversation flows freely, talking of what you both have planned for the rest of the day, from recent council meetings to other more trivial matters. The atmosphere is light and airy, seemingly untainted by the poison that threatens to slip between your lips any moment now.

"Y'know, love," Simon begins, swirling his tea absentmindedly, "I was thinkin' we maybe take a trip somewhere?"

You smile, the idea of a getaway appealing. "A trip sounds wonderful, Si. Any particular place in mind?"

After deeming your tea was cool enough for you to drink, you bring it up to your lips and take a sip.

He leans back in chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There's a coastal town called Alordia, have you ever heard of it?"

You swallow another sip, nodding. "Yes, I used to go there as a child! It's been a while since I've been to the sea."

"I was thinkin' the air might do us some good," Simon says thoughtfully.

As Simon continues to share his plans for the trip, you suddenly feel a subtle wave of discomfort washing over you. At first, you dismiss it as a one off sensation, perhaps just lingering stress from the day. However, as the conversation continues, you start to notice an unusual bitterness lingering on your tongue.

As the minutes pass by, you begin to feel a strange heaviness settling in your limbs. You glance at Simon, who is still animatedly describing Alordia. Meeting your eyes, Simon takes a good look at your face, concern flickering in his eyes as he notices your demeanor.

"Are you alright, dove?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

You muster a weak smile, swallowing thickly, attempting to push through the mounting weakness coursing through your veins.

"Mhm, just got a bit tired is all. Tea can make me sleepy sometimes."

Simon's brow furrows with concern as he continues to observe you closely, eyes flitting up and down your form. "You don't look well."

"I... I think I just need some air. Maybe a walk in the garden would do me good."

Simon, however, isn't convinced. He sets his teacup down, the worry deepening in his eyes. "No, something's not right."

"I think it's fine, really. I just need some fresh air," you say as you rise from your chair. Your heart is racing in your chest, and that unsettling weakness rushes to your legs. The moment you stand, you falter, catching yourself on the edge of the table.

Simon immediately stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he rushes to your side. "We're going to get the doctor," he says gruffly, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

He knows you've been poisoned, but he doesn't tell you to prevent you from outright panicking. This happened once before, where you collapsed at the dinner table. Everyone had thought you been poisoned, but you were just sick with the flu. But now? You weren't sick at all, in fact, you looked bright and well-tempered when he walked in the tea room.

The room begins to blur, and you struggle to maintain consciousness as he starts to drag you out of the tea room.

Desperation fills your eyes as you reach out and grasp Simon's hand wrapped around your waist. "Wait, Si, I..." Your words falter as dizziness washes over you, making it harder to form coherent sentences. Your face feels heavy, each blink slower, each breath more shallow than the last.

"Just breathe," he tells you, trying to calm his own racing heart.

The moment he kicks down the tea room door, he's yelling at the guards to go tell the doctor that he's coming with you. Simon's free arm comes around the back of your legs, and he's lifting you off the ground in one motion. When he has you secure, he breaks off into a run. The world around you continues the blur, the sounds echoing painfully loud in your ears. You can feel the urgency in Simon's steps, a sick realization dawning upon you. Beads of sweat start to roll down your forehead, and everything feels too bright, too loud.

You don't fully register when the doors to the infirmary swing open, mind muddled from the effects of the poison. Simon bursts into the infirmary, calling for the doctor urgently.

"It's poison," Simon calls out, voice gruff and commanding.

Everything is muffled, barely registering his words, but the urgency in his voice cuts through the haze. The medical team springs into action as Simon places you gently on a bed. The room is a flurry of activity, and you catch glimpses of worried faces and the glint of medical instruments.

"Move!" the doctor calls out, carrying tray of vials.

Simon stands by, his eyes full of fear and determination. A nurse gently directs him to a corner of the room, where he can observe but not stand in the way. For once, he gives them space.

The frantic activity around you is a distant hum as consciousness slips away, leaving only fragmented images and sensations in the tips of your fingers.

In your haziness, you feel a cool sensation on your forehead as one nurse places a damp cloth over your heated skin.

Without hesitation, the doctor wrenches your mouth open, taking out the vials and pouring antidotes down your throat.

As the antidote slips down your throat and into your system, a shiver runs down your spine.

Simon watches every little movement, a hardened plea in his eyes for your recovery.

Time seems to stretch and fold upon itself. The medical team exchanges hurried whispers, their faces etched with both concern and concentration.

Simon remains rooted in his corner, his fingers nervously drumming against his thigh. The seconds tick by like an eternity. His gaze never wavers from you, holding his breath.

Finally, you start to cough, eyes fluttering as the blurriness of the room starts to fade.

A collective sigh of relief sweeps through the room. The antidote takes effect, and your vitals start to stabilize.

"Christ..." Simon mutters to himself, his shoulders sagging as the tension and adrenaline drains from his body. He strides over to your bedside, his eyes searching yours for signs of consciousness.

The doctor approaches Simon with a reassuring yet stressed smile. "She's going to be fine. We got to her just in time."

Your eyelids flutter, consciousness slowly returning to you. Simon takes your limp hand, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. You blink a few times, the world gradually coming into focus. Simon's face swims into view, and you manage a weak smile.

"Hey there, dove. You alright?" he says, relief evident in his tone.

You nod lightly, your voice a mere whisper. "I think so."

The doctor turns to you, relief written on their face. "You gave us quite a scare, your majesty. You're responding well to the antidote. You'll need to rest for the next few days, and the effects of the poison won't fully subside for another 24 hours. No strenuous activities for the next week, at the very least."

Simon nods in understanding, his protective instincts kicking in.

You nod, still feeling the lingering effects of weakness. "Thank you... all of you."

Simon's grip on your hand tightens, eyes softening.

Once the doctor is finished with their debrief, the medical team withdraws, leaving you alone with Simon. He sits by your bedside, his gaze never leaving your face.

"I need to find out who did this," Simon says, his jaw set with determination.

"We will, together."

As the hours pass, Simon remains by your side, occasionally leaving only to return with a cup of water or a damp cloth. His concern is palpable, knee bouncing with anxiety and impatience.

. . .

It's been about a day since you've fallen victim to poison, now resting in your chambers. As you recover, Simon's protective presence becomes a constant.

Word of the attempted murder spreads throughout the kingdom, stirring anger and concern among the people.

As soon as investigation into the attempted poison went into motion, it was brought to a close. It was obvious enough to question the staff in the kitchen that day, and one loose lipped maid immediately broke down the minute she was brought into questioning, sobbing about how sorry she was, and how it was Lord Andrew who had put her up to it.

The news of Lord Andrew's involvement sends shockwaves through the kingdom. The castle buzzes with tension as the truth was unveiled, and the nobles whisper about the impending consequences.

Simon left no stone unturned, taking in nobles for questioning left and right, sparing no chance.

The once-respected Lord Andrew is now a pariah, and his name is synonymous with betrayal and greed. The court proceedings intensify, and the truth is laid bare for all to see.

During this time, you gradually regain your strength, but the trauma of the poisoning lingers. Simon is always hesitant to leave your side, but his need to seek justice intensified.

Simon much preferred to deal with Andrew himself, but he couldn't allow his personal feelings to cloud his pursuit of justice. Instead, he endures Kastron's legal system, relying on it to deal with Lord Andrew appropriately.

Simon, still fueled by anger and protectiveness, watches Lord Andrew with a steely gaze. As witnesses testify against Lord Andrew, the depth of his deceit is laid bare for all to witness. The kingdom demands justice.

The nobleman, now stripped of his titles and influence, stands in the court to answer for his transgression. The room falls silent as Simon addresses him, his voice strained with anger.

"Andrew, you attempted to poison my wife, the queen of Kastron. You sought to undermine the very foundation of this kingdom, to harm the person I hold most dear," Simon declares, his eyes ablaze. "Your greed and lust for power have cost you everything."

Andrew, standing before the court, attempts to justify his actions, desperation laced in his voice. He was on Simon's bad side, a place you could never find forgiveness. "Your majesty, I... I felt cornered, with no way to secure a future for my family. I just wanted to ensure my daughter's prosperity, her future."

Simon's gaze remains cold as ice, his anger tempered by a sense of duty. "Don't drag your family into the mess you made. Nothing excuses the treason you've committed. You put the entire kingdom at risk for your own personal gain. Attempting to murder the queen is an affront to Kastron herself."

The court watches in tense silence as Lord Andrew flounders, attempting to shift the blame, pleading for mercy.

Simon had his mind made up the second you started displaying symptoms.

He stands up from his seat, shoulders back and head held high as he addresses Lord Andrew with finality. "Andrew, for your betrayal and attempt to murder the queen, you are hereby stripped of your titles, lands, and any influence within Kastron. You are banished from the kingdom, and any attempt to return will be met with severe consequences. May this serve as a reminder that treachery against Kastron will not go unnoticed or unpunished."

The guards move forward to escort him away, and he glances back one last time at the court.

As the doors close behind Lord Andrew, the weight of the moment settles upon the room. The people of Kastron, witnessing the fall of a once-respected noble, murmur among themselves.

"A warning to you: let Andrew's fate be a lesson to those who let betrayal cross their minds. The consequences are severe."

. . .

In the aftermath, you and Simon spend days in your private chambers. He had also wasted no time replacing your staff, maids, and cooks in the kitchen he deemed unreliable. He went through each staff member that has ever come into direct contact with you, wasting no breath when it came to questioning their loyalty.

Simon, still seething with anger, finally allows himself a moment to relax, his facade softening as he returns to you in your chambers.

"You've held up well the past few days, darling," he says, his voice a soft murmur. "I hate that you had to go through that."

You offer him a tired but genuine smile. "We faced it together, Simon. And, he's gone now."

He nods, a profound gratitude in his eyes. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, especially like that. I love you, more than anything."

You reach out to gently touch his cheek. "Thank you for looking out for me. I love you."

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[floatyflowers]

Fairest of Them All | Aegon II, Aemond, and Jacaerys x Reader

You are the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and his first wife, Rhea Royce.

People claim that you are the most beautiful girl in all of the seven kingdoms, and your Targaryen appearance played a role in that title.

Unlike your parents, you are shy and would burst into tears if someone speaks to you in a bad way.

So, when many high lords asked for your hand in marriage, all of which Daemon turned down because he saw them all unfitting.

Even though, you wanted to marry Cregan Stark, but Daemon thought him to be ruthless.

But, when Rhaenyra suggested that Jace weds you, that's when he agreed.

After all, Jacaerys is brave and gentle, he is the perfect match for a fragile kind-hearted girl like yourself.

When you and Jacaerys get betrothed to each other, things were going smooth at first, until Jace started to set his own rules.

Like how you are not allowed to speak to anyone except to him and your family, and that you are not allowed to ride your dragon without his permission or him escorting you.

Not only that, but Jace dismissed all of your handmaids and replaced them with new ones.

All your old handmaids were your friends, the new ones are strangers.

You wanted to break off the engagement, but then again you felt like you would sadden Rhaenyra if you do that, she is like a second mother to you.

You put up with his behavior until you and his family decided to go to Kingslanding to put an end to Vaemond's vile accusation about the Velaryon boys legitimacy.

That's where you met up with your other male cousins, Aemond and Aegon, both in which give you unreadable stares.

Helaena is the only one you got along with.

You also met them at Laena's funeral, you remember that Aemond acted more mature then Aegon, and that Aegon teased and mocked you which resulted in you hiding behind your father the whole funeral with tear stained cheeks.

Honestly, you also felt uneasy by Aemond who claimed Vhagar, you felt that he is an intimidating person.

At the feast held by the king in the honor of him regaining his good health, Aegon disturbed you with his flirting, and his sexual offer.

Jace was about to hit him, but restrained himself and comforted you when he saw you shaking.

Aemond stared at you the whole feast, putting you under more pressure, not knowing that you have caught Aemond's interest the moment you stepped a foot in Kingslanding.

Luke chuckled when the pig was placed in front of Aemond, causing a fight to erupt after the younger Targaryen prince makes an offensive toast towards Luke and Jace.

But, the root of the fight wasn't about the 'strong' name, it was about how Aemond also added the phrase...

"And to my beautiful cousin, Lady (Y/n), who is yet to find a man who is able to protect her...like me"

Clearly, he is not even considering Jace to be your fiance, and that you are still searching for a true man.

Daemon was able to calm everything down, your family left next day, but you stay in Kingslanding with Rhaenys, after getting sick out of nowhere.

Unaware, that Aegon had someone poison your drink to have you stay

This made the Queen suggest you stay until get better.

Jace wanted to stay with you, and even tried to convince his mother, but you assured him that you will return to Dragonstone on your dragon once you get better.

Yet, the following events of the king's death and Aegon's coronation turned you from a guest to a hostage.

A hostage held captive by the king and his brother, to become their bride.

[secretmellowblog]

i just dont really understand why theyd target les mis? and like. its interrupting the work of actors and crew and house staff who dont have anything to do with fossil fuel corps. people who just paid to see the show who dont have anything to do with it.

i understand les mis is a show about rebellion and humanity but to me it doesnt make any sense.

( i say this as someone whos probably very unaware and very slow to realize the deeper meaning of things so i apologize if it comes off snobby i am just confused !! /genuine )

I'm very sorry if this comes off as rude but like.... "I don't understand why people would use Les Mis as the symbolic centerpiece of an act of protest/rebellion against the government" is just a very strange thing to say, and I'm genuinely not quite sure how to begin to respond XD. Like....it's literally Les Mis. It is Do You Hear the People Sing. The original novel was written to be a political rallying cry, it was written to bind together activists, and it has been used that way thousands of times since its publication in 1862. It's Les Mis, I don't know what else to tell you XD. Also I know this next comparison isn't perfect, but:

“I don’t understand why Les Amis interrupted Lamarque’s funeral.  Obviously I agree with Les Amis’s goals, but was this really the right way to protest? Obviously the government is doing something bad— but was this symbolic event really the right place to talk about it? Why even choose to interrupt this event, and the lives of the workers leading it and everyday people attending it? It wasn’t responsible for what was happening! 

Okay, yeah, I get the funeral is ‘symbolically significant.’  I get that Lamarque has become, in popular culture, a symbol of rebellion and resistance against a government’s unfair policies.  I get Lamarque’s funeral is a pretty big public event that has a lot of symbolic significance ties to ideas of rebellion against the state.

I get that Lamarque’s words are often seen as a rebellious call to action, so illegally interrupting his funeral could be a statement about resisting tyranny. It could be a call to action playing off the popularity and symbolic role that Lamarque has in the public consciousness.

 But at the same time— shouldn’t Les Amis have just gone to the palace and attacked the king directly? Why disrupt this symbolic event instead? They’re not really going after the people responsible! 

After all, there were so many people there who just wanted a normal day. They weren’t responsible for what the government was doing and had nothing to do with it.  They wanted to see the procession, to hear Lafayette’s speech and grieve a political figure they cared for. They wanted to hear people praise ‘resistance’ in the abstract, without actually doing it.

 Weren’t Les Amis disrupting that?  

Aren’t Les Amis bad activists? Isn’t disrupting people’s everyday lives for the sake of 'activism' always inherently a bad thing? I’m not against activism, but isn’t doing that kind of disruptive activism rude? Isn’t disrupting the lives of ordinary people just doing their jobs or going out for a special event evil— no matter why you’re doing it, or what your goals are, or whether the government actually is doing something vile that we should start to stage great events rallying against?

Even if this Lamarque's funeral has special significance because of its symbolic pop cultural ties to rebellion against tyranny—shouldn’t they have just avoided rudely interrupting some regular people’s everyday lives? 

Protests shouldn’t disrupt things. they should be big parades that don’t make anyone uncomfortable, don’t interrupt anything, and don’t disrupt any aspects of ‘normal people’s daily life.’ No one should ever target symbolic events— like a funeral for a political figure or a musical about revolution—  to make a political statement. Protests should be little quiet festivals that cause absolutely no interruption in everyday life so that we can all just safely ignore them, until the climate catastrophe they’re warning us about arrives.”  

[crusera]

The Sultan, they said, was a good man. Soft, quickly moved to tears. Out of compassion, he bought the freedom of a Christian woman's stolen daughter. Even Walther von der Vogelweide, the minnesinger in distant Germany, praised the "mildness" of the powerful ruler in the Orient, whose name has a good reputation in the West: Saladin, a righteous man.

He was a man who always kept his word, even to his enemies.

He let his subjects drag him to court, because God's laws applied equally to everyone. Also for him, the ruler who managed to do what no one had ever managed before: to unite the Islamic world of the Middle East after centuries of discord and to wrest Jerusalem, the holy city of the Muslims, from the Christians in 1187.

His name translates as "righteousness of faith", and Saladin is indeed a devout Muslim. Nevertheless, after his conquest of the Holy Land, he allowed the Christians and Jews there to continue praying to their God. This is another reason why, more than half a millennium later, Western Enlightenment thinkers would make him the epitome of the tolerant ruler.

But this al-Malik an-Nasir Salah ad-Din Abu'l-Muzaffer Yusuf ibn Ayyub ibn Shadi, known as Saladin for short, also had other sides.

He could be treacherous, vile and mean. He did not shy away from murder. Nevertheless, this man fascinated his contemporaries. He became one of the most revered rulers of the Islamic world and the most important opponent of the Crusaders.

Saladin was born in 1138 in Tikrit (in present-day Iraq), the son of a Kurdish officer. During his political career, Saladin was the first to bring Egypt's army under his control.

Saladin, a Sunni, now founds two universities where theology is taught according to Sunni theology - a signal that he is on the side of the population. He also abolished a number of taxes that contradicted the Koran and the teachings of the Prophet.

Saladin's subsequent conquests shock the Christian world. By 1174, his power extended from North Africa to the southern tip of the Arabian Peninsula. In 1186, he ruled from the Nile to the Tigris.

At the height of his power, the Sultan even dreamed of taking the Holy War to Europe, conquering Rome - and putting the Pope in chains.

The Crusaders conquered Jerusalem in 1099 and held it until Saladin besieged it in 1187 and handed it over to the Ayyubid dynasty, a Muslim sultanate that ruled the Middle East at the beginning of the 12th century.

Saladin wanted to recapture the city, which had previously been ruled by Muslims.

For Muslims, Jerusalem is a place where important events in the life of Jesus and other important personalities took place. It is also the place where the Prophet Mohammed ascended to heaven according to the traditional interpretation of the Koran and other texts.

In Sunni Islam, Jerusalem is the third holiest city after Mecca and Medina. Muslims believe that Muhammad was brought to Jerusalem during his night journey (Isra and Mi'raj).

The name Jesus is mentioned twenty-five times in the Holy Qur'an, often in the form 'Isa ibn Maryam, which means "Jesus, son of Mary". In the Quran, he is given the unique title "Messiah" (al-masih in Arabic), which means "anointed one". He is considered one of many prophets from the lineage of the Prophet Ibrahim, or Abraham (peace be upon him). Many Muslim traditions regard it as an ideal example of spirituality. Unlike Christians, who generally believe in a triune God, Muslims believe that Jesus was a great prophet who was to lead mankind on the straight path of monotheism and obedience to God (Allah).

When Jerusalem also fell, two kings and an emperor set off for the Holy Land with their armies from 1189 onwards. One of the monarchs is King Richard I of England. Even before the armed pilgrimage, he had already earned himself an honourable name: "Lionheart."

Saladin lies in wait for the Christians in the forests of Arsuf near the Mediterranean coast. But King Richard of England had anticipated the attack; on 7 September 1191, his troops won a clear victory. Nevertheless, the Muslim army is still strong enough to block the road to Jerusalem.

Saladin's reconquest of Jerusalem in 1187 prompted Pope Gregory VIII to organize the Third Crusade. From 1189 to 1192, Saladin lost Acre and Jaffa and was defeated in the field at Arsūf. The Crusaders retreated to Europe without seizing Jerusalem, but Saladin's military reputation had been damaged. He died in 1193.

[lwde-encrusted-sideblog]

One person in the group has been writing smutty fics about the rest of the gang who is it and whose more upset about how they are written than anything else?

Blake: Hello Team- What's going on?

Ruby: Well, Blake ... This is an Intervention.

Blake: For what? The fish sticks? 'Cause I can stop any time i want!

Ruby: What? No. This is about the Smut Fics we found.

Blake: What?

Yang: There's nothing to be ashamed of. We all have desire we want to explore through fiction, we just ask that you don't include us.

Blake: I have NO clue what you're talking about.

Weiss: Really? Even the one where I'm the bicycle between everyone?

Blake: Yeah, no, I legitimately don't know what you mean.

Ruby: Blake, We're just asking that you be honest with us.

Jaune: Yeah, Pyrrha was nearly in tears when she found out.

Pyrrha: *Sniffles*

Jaune: Plus you make me this "Giga-Chad Harem King" where I get with anyone and everyone! I don't like it. I'm not like that. I mean! You even Wrote me with My own Sisters!

Nora: You Vile Cur!

Ren: *Tranquility* Nora, Jaune, We're here to have a discussion.

Blake: I never wrote Smut about you guys! Do you think I'm so dumb as to Use your real names!

Blake: ...

Blake: In the event I did Write Smut about you guys!

Ruby: Look, Blake, We'll leave you to Talk to Pyrrha alone, since what you've done has affected her the most. RPF is the lowest form of fiction anyway.

*RW_YJN_R Leave, Pyrrha and Blake sit alone in the room*

Pyrrha: *Sniffles* Blake ...

Blake: I swear I never-

Pyrrha: Thank you!

Blake: What?

Pyrrha: Thank you for taking the fall for this!

Blake: ... What?

Pyrrha: I mean, do you know how irritated Jaune was when he learned he was written as the Lovely hunk he is? How could anyone resist him!

Blake: You're blaming ME for this!

Pyrrha: I mean ... Yes. Yes I am. Of course I'll need to find a better place to hide my writings, But No one would ever~believe that Me, Pure, Sweet, Innocent Pyrrha Nikos, the poor girl on the pedestal, could ever think about people in that way! My reputation would Crumble! everyone would lose respect for me!

Pyrrha: But no one knows You. Besides, you're an open pervert. No one would doubt you would do this.

Blake: ... You're evil.

Pyrrha: All is fair in love and War~ If only Jaune could Realize He oh-so deserves ALL the love in the world!

Blake: Is that your plan? To Convince Jaune to have a harem?

Pyrrha: And isn't it the perfect plan? Once everyone loves him the way I do, then He'll never hate himself again~

Blake: *Horrified*You're MAD! Depraved! A Foul-Minded harlot!

Pyrrha: And who would ever believe you about that~ One day All will bow to Jaune and I~ You're Reigning Champions of love and lust~

Pyrrha: Jaune Simply needs to learn his proper place!

Pyrrha: AS do you and the rest of our underlings~ Ehehehe~

Blake: You'll never get away with it! This is Madness! Insanity!

Pyrrha: Of course it is~ Why do you think it's called falling madly in love~ *Giggle~*

Blake: ... Oh my God, you're really trying this.

Pyrrha: Of Course I am. *Opens Door, Wiping tears* Blake, I'm so glad we could reach an Understanding!

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: This is my first time ever writing fanfic. I have been reading fanfic on this godforsaken app since I was 12, and have been encouraged blindly by my best friend to post this. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One : Smoke

There was a chill that had come early to Kings Landing this season. The breeze carried a bite to it that most people who were born there had only seen once or twice before. Some whispered that Winter was coming, but the prospects of that happening once more was less than the more unfortunate events happening presently.

In the courtyard of the Red Keep, the cobblestones were freshly swept. The servants having worked tirelessly through the night as to not be seen and ruin the illusion of its perfection and all those within it. That biting wind lifted the soft red leaves from the godswood, making them dance around each other to land softly on the green grass surrounding. Your skirts moved with the breeze, blowing lightly between your legs and making the long sleeves of your gown brush softly against your sides. 

You walked slowly towards the Godswood, looking up at the swaying branches, gazing at the deep cracks and ripples in the bark. The afternoon sun shone gently through the crimson leaves at the top, the warmth lightly dusting your cheeks and forehead.

The Godswood was where your mother Rhaenyra would read to you as a child, softly brushing your locks, and whispering tales in High Valyrian in your ear. Sitting down in your favourite spot, you leant back against the tree and closed your eyes, letting the cooling sun lay a blanket of warmth over you, listening to the soft rustling of the leaves above. 

This was your place, your comfort. Somewhere to read, somewhere to lay, to cry, to laugh or sing. Your special spot was nestled between two large roots that worked as a support for your body like a cocoon.

You sat there silently, thinking of your mother and younger siblings. You were the eldest, and it had been years since you had been back to the Red Keep. The venomous rumours of your parentage were openly whispered by the Queen.

Though raised by the late Prince Laenor, Daemon had always called you his, telling you of a secret visit he paid to your mother when she was still engaged to the younger Prince. 

The rumours of you and your siblings legitimacy were for the most part true. You knew that Sir Harwin Strong was your brothers father, their likeness was uncanny but these, as your mother called them 'vile accusations' did not bother you, for you knew that she loved Sir Harwin and Prince Laenor; just in different ways. Just as you knew that Prince Laenor loved your mother in a different way also.

You knew that the young Velaryon was not interested in the touch of a woman, but he still raised you as his own and was a kind and loving man.

As for your uncle Aegon, all knew that he had fathered many a bastard, perhaps hundreds, and yet he was not looked down for it. Aegon did not face the stares and whispers, the japes and the disgust that your younger brothers and mother face.

Women are destined to carry sins that no mortal man would be made to. That was the reality of it, but most like Queen Alicent let their tongues sharpen the peoples knives.

As you thought more of your family and memories growing up in the Red Keep you felt yourself tire, drifting into a light sleep, the afternoon sun having a soporific effect on you.

A sharp pain rippled up your leg from your foot, the pain jerking you awake. Your eyes snapped open and you peered up to see a dark figure standing in front of you. The moon reflected on long silver tresses of hair, peeking out from beneath a dark hood.

The garden was now dark, except for the few torches lit along the pathways of the stone walls. The warmth of the sun had left, leaving the cold to seep up through the ground beneath you. 

“Mm.” Came a smooth guttural hum from the tall figure before you. Aemond stared down his nose at you, lips upturned in amusement. 

You hurriedly pulled your legs underneath you and stood, one hand reaching back to steady yourself against the bark of the Godswood.

Holding your breath you looked your uncle in the eye, the lost one covered by a dark leather patch he always adorned. The long snaking scar that traveled from cheek to forehead looked more sinister in this light, deeper and more ragged as the shadows fell upon his face from the licking flames of a nearby torch. 

Aemond had become fond of torturing you in many ways. Growing up you had gotten along. As a child he would sometimes read to you or correct your High Valyrian, but now since the loss of his eye and the fraying tension of both of your mothers relationships, his disdain and hatred for you had festered into an obsession. 

Still staring at him you pulled your hand off of the bark to brush down your skirts, pulling them up quickly to step over the root of the tree only to have him abruptly step forward. His cloak swaying towards you to brush against the bottom of your dress, pushing his distinct scent to surround you.

His sharp movement made you step backwards against the tree, foot slipping a little on the root below and replacing your hand back against the bark. His lips quirked upwards into a smirk, a huffed breath blowing out through his nose in amusement. You corrected your footing and stood straight, looking up into his eye.

“What is it, dear uncle?” You asked, sarcasm thick on your tongue as you tilted your head sideways in frustration. 

Slowly he leant forward, eye still staring into yours, searching both of them to seek out your unease. The movement made his cloak gape at the sides, and the soft glint of the hilt of his sword upon his hip caught your eye.

Aemond followed your line of sight, and smirked harder, the corner of his upturned lip stretching further up his face. Leaning back he pulled his body away from you, allowing you to release the breath you had been holding.

“Dinner is to be served soon, and you are to join us, sweet niece.” 

With the billow of his cloak, he stalked back along the stone path, a menacing sway, and into the archway of the building. 

Slumping back against the tree you took a deep breath, pulling up your skirts once more and stepped over the roots. Briskly walking along the cobblestones to the archway, you could still smell the subtle hints of your uncle.

Sandalwood, the soldering smell of ash and fire, and the deep scent of leather. On any other man you would find this combination to be alluring, though from him it made you uneasy.

You hastily walked through the Red Keep to your chambers, mentally preparing yourself for your rapidly crumbling family dinner. 

[minty-drop]

Hello! Is it okay if you write Shadow Milk Cookie x Faerie Reader (romantically)? Thank you for reading my request and hope you have a good day! <3

Sure thing! This one was a little rushed but I hope that’s alright?

͙͘͡★ Shadow milk cookie x faerie reader

Tw: very slight angst, forbidden romance, mentions of corruption

Type: general romance head-canons, romantically themes, non established relationship

Delicate wings, but a mighty soul is what a faerie was. A soldier of the land of beast yeast, in there quiet and cozy little kingdom.

Though this kingdom held a secret. Where 5 beast were sealed in the large trunk of the silver tree. Every faerie knew of the tale of the 5 beast, the once saviours of beast yeast. knowledge, volition, happiness, change and solitary, turned to sour dough, vile and sinister cookies who crumbled the weak beneath there power for the entertainment of selfishness.

This should have scarred you away from the silver tree. Struck fear in you. It did for a long time. But when the tree split, allowing the darkness of this world to spew out again, you could only feel curious after the encounter. Your questions never answer by the guardian about the event. Questions that you had he could not answer. Questions that banged in your mind like a brick being dropped onto your dough. The knowledge you craved, the guardian could not give your satisfactory. Each time he failed to give you an answer, the more you pondered everything around you to the smallest of details.

And in desperation, you against all of faeries kinda rules and nature, ventured to the tree, in the time when the sun was not longer out, the sky swallowed with a inky black, stars shining bright and the moon high. The illuminating celestial objects bright hues caste down apon the thick tree tops, leaking down onto the soil of the land.

The path was bright into your sight by the light, which was covered in vines until you made it to a large open space, a king, silver path above you. Spreading your silky clear wings, you guided yourself up onto its cold surface.

The tree was absolutely beautiful up close. The trunks stood strong and perched, roots stretching far beneath the soil. Branches twisting and turning in all distractions, branching into even more complex structures. The glow of it was dim but noticeable, how could anyone not want to stare at its beautiful light.

In hesitation, finding it hard to move from your spot in fear of being caught out at this hour. you hurriedly scudded a-crossed the large platform to its wide base.

Feeling the bark under breath your hand, it was cold, much like you expected. The texture was almost as if it was coated in a film of silver like it’s name. Leaning against it, you began to ponder if this really was a good idea to ask of knowledge from one of the most sinister beings to Rome earth bread. Everyone knows the story, how all the beast had turned into there opposites. In which once in particular help the knowledge of 1000.

It took courage to utter any words, but you managed to muster out a shaking and quiet hello to anything, anyone who could be able to answer your questions…silence was the only thing the responded, accompanied by the quiet chips and clicks of bird in the tree tops.

This was pointless, what a stupid idea. Asking a god like cookie for there knowledge, and this being was one of the beasts. We’re they even still alive? Maybe they perished during there time in the tree. Knowledge now turned to deceit, everyone knew that. But..maybe if you offered something. Something valuable, maybe just maybe they would give you something true.

A sly, cocky voice, just barely able to hear admitted from the dense bark.

“Hello dearyyyy” the y drawn out with sickening laughter.

Jumping out of your skin is what you could call the reaction, bolting away from the tree a good 6 seat in fear. Something really responded. One of them really responded to your feeble attempts at communication.

You leaned against the tree again,trying to listen for a sound, anything. But there was nothing. And as childish as it sounded, you knocked a small pattern on the bark….silence yet again….before the same pattern was repeated back to you.

This is how you met the cocky, sly and funny cookie, one who terrorized the old era was now melting at your ‘touch’. The trees bark kept you away from him, but that didn’t stop him from speaking to you.

You knew it was wrong, a faerie and a god. Nothing less a god that had killed thousands, thousands of innocent souls. But you couldn’t stop yourself from fall for him, sneaking away from you home to visit this locked away soul.

He loved you, as close as he could get to loving someone even if he never had show it well. he wanted you. He wanted to corrupt your being so you could truly see how much he cared for you.

[dgrailwar]

Round 8, Day 1 - Team Pretender (THE ABYSSAL WYRM)

Read of Pretender's True Name Dissolution HERE!

The massive form of the Abyssal Wyrm dragged itself forward. It bellowed, shaking the ground as dark, wretched flakes and bits of flesh sloughed off its form, hitting the ground and forming into vile creatures that skittered and spread like a virus.

Turns Remaining Until 'Lie Like Vortigern' is unleashed: [3]

THE ABYSSAL WYRM INFORMATION (ALL TEAMS SHOULD READ):

Rather than deciding who to fight, the Abyssal Wyrm can create hordes of 'Mors' to send after enemy Servants, engaging them in combat and intercepting them. Those attacked by the Mors are locked into a one-on-one battle, regardless of who the Servant targeted. The Mors deal 1 damage if victorious, and gain a flat 2% boost.

However, Servants can choose to target the Abyssal Wyrm in an attempt to reduce the damage it is causing.

If multiple Servants attack the Abyssal Wyrm, they will form into a 'coalition', and their bonuses against the Abyssal Wyrm will be combined. There is no limit to the size of the 'coalition'.

However, this may be a chance for other to sabotage their enemies as well. You're still able to attack your foes as usual, complicating combat situations and potentially using the chaos to get an upper hand and sneak in some damage.

For those on Team Pretender-- This is Pretender's Noble Phantasm made manifest. This means while Pretender himself lacks a Noble Phantasm, a new mechanic has been introduced. The 'countdown'.

When the countdown the Noble Phantasm 'Lie Like Vortigern' reaches zero, all enemy Servants instantly take two points of damage and the counter resets. However, the counter can be pushed back by one if a Servant (or Servant coalition) attempts to attack the Abyssal Wyrm and defeats it (or more accurately, survives against it) with a victory larger than 30%.

Additionally, if the Abyssal Wyrm is struck with a Noble Phantasm, the 'Lie Like Vortigern' counter will be reset regardless of the results.

The Abyssal Wyrm, as a massive conceptual being, cannot be killed. However, if the 'Servant Body' (Pretender) is pierced, then the Abyssal Wyrm will disappear and lose the fragile connection it has on this world.

-

The Abyssal Wyrm has one skill:

Anti-Human Order (D Rank) - A skill representing an incompatibility with mankind. When fighting against a Servant, they inflict a 5% demerit on their enemies. For the Abyssal Wyrm, this demerit increases by 2% the more Servants are in a 'coalition' facing it.

[kradogsrats]

Thinking about this scene, because lbr it just kind of loops in my brain constantly so there's probably a 70% chance I'm thinking about it at any given moment.

It's easy to make the assumption that everything in Viren's dream is connected to him healing Soren, because it's a convenient place to point to and say "obviously that is where everything went wrong." It's definitely a pivotal moment in his life, and deservedly has a lot of screen time in this sequence. In some ways, it is lurking beneath all the other scenes.

But it doesn't seem to be what Kpp'Ar is talking about at any point here, like:

I always knew you'd go far. But I didn't know how far you'd go to get there.

Everything going on in Kpp'Ar's dialog—"eager student," "elegant finery," "overcome the disadvantages of your upbringing," "I always knew you'd go far"—is about ambition. Not morality or necessity, just a pure skewer of you've never done anything for anyone but yourself, and you know it.

Viren, as is the theme(tm), protests, "I had no choice. I did what I had to do," to which Kpp'Ar, again, absolutely drags him:

You made the choice you've always made. The one that gives you power.

Which, like... you could twist this to be about Soren, and start asking questions about exactly what power Viren stood to gain from healing him—my money would be on the Staff of Ziard—but I actually don't think that's at all what this is about.

This scene in Viren's dream also cuts almost directly into the Twin Peaks scene, in which Viren is king, and which itself culminates in the battered and bloody crown, i.e. his death.

So I think there's a couple things going on, here: 1) the Kpp'Ar scene (and the Twin Peaks scene, but I'll talk about that some other time) is actually referring to everything Viren did that culminated in the events of s1-s3, and 2) we as viewers are being primed by that to look at his other choices in the same critical way.

Now, you'd have to be pretty oblivious to have watched all of s1-s3 hearing Viren's constant refrain that he's doing everything he does for the sake of humanity's future, etc. etc., and been like "oh yeah, that seems totally legit." So we're basically being explicitly told here something that we already knew: everything that Viren has done, he did on some level to secure or consolidate power for himself. Some of those choices are a lot more obvious than others, but pretty much all of them circle back to power, control, and/or the "narrative of strength."

Having framed all of Viren's choices that way—particularly after he has denied that they were choices—we are being implicitly asked to consider his choice to do anything to save his son within the same framework. Was it something he had to do? Was it worth it?

For some viewers, this is the first time they are encountering the revelation that Viren saved Soren from a fatal illness during his childhood. It's a choice that is very easy to sympathize with, and one that we the deep fandom have discussed to death—seeing it for the first time, a viewer is likely to be sympathetic, or automatically believe it was justifiable. In starting with the scene with Kpp'Ar and reminding viewers of all Viren's other choices, their motivations, and their consequences, the sequence is asking us to consider this critical choice, sympathetic as it is, in that context. It's similar to the way we are asked to consider Harrow's choice regarding the Magma Titan, though much less explicit.

So, then... what's up with this?

Viren's immediate response to Kpp'Ar's statement that his choices have always been about power is the first callback to his little mantra:

I've always done what protects my family. However dangerous. However vile.

Why does he say this, when literally nothing in this scene has been about family? Well, first of all, it's another priming device for linking Viren's s1-s3 actions with his healing Soren. It's also a fun little callback for those of us whose reaction to it first being dropped in s4 was "HOLY SHIT it's the thing he said to Kpp'Ar!" in that here he is, saying it to Kpp'Ar again. But we also get told exactly why, a couple scenes later:

We have Harrow—specifically Harrow in the context of his death, the inciting event of Viren's s1-s3 spiral—linked to Viren's concept of family, and his willingness to do anything in that context, in what is a kind of hilarious contrast with, y'know, literally everything Viren did after Harrow's death.

So, as with the rest of the sequence, it's all about Viren framing himself as having no choice while he makes the absolute worst choice possible at every turn.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

In defense of Prince Daemon Targaryen: I am getting pretty sick and tired of him being perceived as a cheater without any proof whatsoever.

We can all agree that Fire & Blood was written by maesters who supported the Greens, and they have not hidden their distaste for Daemon while retelling the events of the Dance. Safe to say that they are extremely subjective and have a tendency to spit on both Daemon and Rhaenyra. You can sense it while reading.

Now, in terms of Daemon’s sexual life, everyone knows how much he despised his first wife, with whom he had a marriage on paper only. He didn’t live with her, did not hide his dislike of her and constantly insulted her in public. He also did not bother to hide the fact that he constantly spent his time on the Street of Silk, bedding whores during his marriage to Rhea Royce, not to mention his long affair with Mysaria.

Daemon’s marriage to Rhea Royce was not considered a real marriage, in my book. It was not consummated and they didn’t live together. Not to mention that Daemon didn’t even say his marriage vows. His grandmother, Queen Alysanne, had to do it for him. Him bedding whores during this farce of a union cannot be considered cheating either.

Now, when it comes to his other two marriages to women he chose (Laena and Rhaenyra), there are only rumors. Pure gossip without any proof whatsoever:

1. That Daemon slept with Rhaenyra while married to Laena

2. That Daemon had a threesome with Laena and Rhaenyra the same time he was married to Laena

3. That Daemon was sleeping with Mysaria while married to Rhaenyra, and living at the Red Keep (and even more scandalous: that Rhaenyra was somehow ok with it and even gave her permission - this is such a big fat lie)

4. That Daemon started an affair with Nettles while being married to Rhaenyra

There is no proof that any of this happened. No proof whatsoever. Just whispers and gossip, because of course, Daemon sleeps around while married to Rhea Royce, and he must be doing the same while married to his other wives too, right?

Wrong!

Daemon chose to wed Laena and Rhaenyra, not to mention that these two women are Valyrian, and in his eyes, worthy of his respect.

Now, my opinion on the rumors above mentioned:

1. Even though Daemon was still carrying a torch for the Princess, and Rhaenyra spent a lot of time on Driftmark, I seriously doubt that Daemon would have cheated on Laena. Yes, he wanted Rhaenyra, but he wouldn’t have done that to Laena, a Valyrian wife he chose who gave him two daughters, and became pregnant once more. Not to mention that Rhaenyra and Laena were close friends. Rhaenyra would not have done something like that to her. Bottom line: although Daemon and Rhaenyra still had feelings for one another, there is no proof they slept with each other behind her back, and neither would have done that to her.

2. I seriously doubt this rumored “threesome” ever happened, even with Laena’s consent. It’s just weird. Rhaenyra was married to Laena’s brother, and she and Laena were close friends. As close friends as these two women were, I doubt that Laena would have agreed to share her husband with Rhaenyra. Again: this is nothing more than gossip, based on the fact that Rhaenyra spent a lot of time on Driftmark.

3. This one is wrong on so many levels! Rhaenyra is highly possessive of Daemon throughout their marriage. That much is clear. Do you honestly expect me to believe that she would have agreed to let Daemon restart his affair with Mysaria??? She threw a fit at the simple thought of Nettles seducing Daemon.

And why would Daemon get together with a woman much older than his niece/wife?

Once again: vile rumors without proof. Was he seen sharing a room with Mysaria after the Fall of King’s Landing? Were they seen together? No.

4. Ah, the absolute favorite. Daemon was so close to the girl the same age as his daughters, that he started bedding her. What proof is there?

He gave her gifts? He gave her a brush and some decent clothes because she was poor and a mess. He didn’t give her gifts which indicate courting, like he did Rhaenyra: jewels and silks.

He was caught bathing with her? Was he really?

The absolute truth about Daemon’s “relationship” with Nettles was revealed when he received Rhaenyra’s letter of paranoia, asking him to get rid of the girl.

Daemon was visibly saddened and instantly recognized Mysaria’s work to try to undermine him in front of Rhaenyra. Mysaria was interested in getting more power, as Rhaenyra’s closest advisor, and she knew that would never happen as long as Daemon still had her trust. She saw the distressed state in which Rhaenyra was after the two bastards betrayed her. She believed Addam and Nettles were not to be trusted either. And to add to that paranoia, Mysaria whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear that Daemon was cheating on her with that girl.

Daemon may have gotten close to Nettles (it is also speculated that she may have been his bastard daughter), but people are quick to believe the worst of him. If he is not with Rhaenyra 24/7 but with another person, then he is automatically cheating on her with that person.

This is all such complete bullshit of green propaganda.

Don’t even get me started on the rumor that Daemon somehow survived the Battle of God’s Eye and went off to be with Nettles. People who say this clearly have zero understanding of Daemon Targaryen. He would have never abandoned his family or the chance to bring House Targaryen to the power it was during the Conqueror’s reign. This is what defined him. This was his life purpose. And you’re telling me he somehow survived that pretty fatal fall, abandoned Rhaenyra, Aegon, Baela and Rhaena and disappeared with a bastard girl he knew for a short time? Please…

Rhaenyra was the it woman of Daemon’s life. She was literally the wife of his dreams, and he did everything in his power to be with her. As soon as Laena died, he arranged Laenor’s death to free Rhaenyra from that useless marriage and marry her himself. She was the mother of his sons, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon had no reason to be unfaithful to her, nor do we have any proof that he ever was, except the words of highly subjective, misogynistic idiots who are pissed that the bloodline they rooted for didn’t prevail.

[rushtoprove]

the things we do for love

summary: Aemma Velaryon is the daughter of the Princess Rhaenyra and betrothed to Aemond Targaryen. Their young love blinds them to the bitterness between their families, but slowly their fantasy begins to unravel with time. How did the purest of love turn into such bitter hatred?

4. the unravelling of our youth Aemma knew the final tie to her girlhood needed to be severed. She knew she had to leave Aemond in her past. 

word count: 4294

warnings: mention of gore and violence. the final chapter of young aemond and aemma.

masterlist

As Aemma watched Aemond getting carried quickly through the castle, her heart seized up. Her entire body was quivering in shock and her breath was caught in her throat, unable to escape. She did not know how the blade she clutched so feverishly in her hand ended up tearing through the tender flesh of her best friend but she definitely knew she would never forgive herself. The haunting sound of his wails seemed to echo as they rushed ahead and Aemma had to be half carried, half dragged along to follow. She was moaning Aemond’s name in a daze but no one had a chance to comfort the young princess as they needed to get to the maester quickly. 

“Aemma?” Luke was softly crying as he watched his big sister be tugged by a guard towards the central room of Driftmark’s most ancient castle. He could not bear to see the mess his sister was and the adrenaline and fear of the fight that had just taken placed weighed heavy on all the young children. He tried to reach for her but slipped on the blood coating the stone floors. It seemed Aemond’s wounded face would never stop bleeding. 

“Come Luke. It will be alright.” Jace tried to be strong for his brother but his face was also coated in a mixture of blood, sweat and tears. Baela and Rhaena clutched each other as they followed along, their uncontrollable sobs echoing of the walls. 

“Call for the King and Queen! The Princess and her husband too!” Lord Harrold ordered guards around the room as placed the young prince to sit on an empty chair. He let his hand leave Aemond’s face for the maester to view but Aemma, unhinged by the events that had taken place, screamed louder than any thought possible. 

“DO NOT MOVE!” She quickly shook herself free from whatever guard held her and stumbled forward. Tripping down, she knelt before her young love and cupped his face, desperate to keep everything where it was meant to be. 

“Princess Aemma he must be attended to.” They both tried to beg but she would let neither of the men near. 

“No! You have to hold it! His eye! It... I don’t want it to fall out!” Aemma could barely speak through her tears. Aemond, now almost dazed from the pain, reached out and pushed the hair from her eyes. He managed the smallest glimpse of a smile as he looked down at her tear-streaked face.  

“Let them look. Come and sit by myside.” He mumbled numbly and tugged her hand to the left. Now that she was on the ground, Aemma could not get up so she had to crawl to be beside him. Her sobbing did not stop once and when she gazed up, the sight of his torn eye socket made her sobs turn to wails. Aemond simply placed his hand on her head and closed his eyes.  

“The wound is deep. I will need to work fast” The maester muttered to Harrold before reaching into his bag. He pulled out a tiny vile of milk of the poppy and held it to Aemond’s cracked lips. “My lord this will ease the pain. Drink quick.”  

“So much pain.” Aemond moaned before letting his head fall back and both men quickly pulled him forward. The vile was forced down his throat before the work hurriedly began. Aemma could not bear to watch the needle sow him back together so instead she rested her head into his thigh and cried. 

“I’m sorry my love. I’m so sorry.” She repeated the words like a prayer but Aemond had long since disassociated, leaving her weeping to the audience of her siblings and cousins. It was all that was heard until Queen Alicent burst into the room. 

“My son!” She cried out as she ran across the room. It seemed a whole audience followed the King and Queen, including a confused Aegon who stumbled in hazily and Aemma’s grandparents Corlys and Rhaenys who instantly rushed to her cousin’s aid. Alicent only cared to be near her son and paid little attention as she ripped Aemma from Aemond’s side and threw her to the ground. The small girl was still dizzy from her smacking the stone wall during the fight and the sudden movement sent a wave of nausea over her.  

“Come niece.” She was grateful Aegon was gentle as he lifted her to stand, and he held her waist lightly to stop her from tipping over. Time seemed to slow, yet somehow move quicker, and it was not until Aemma’s lady mother burst through the door and swept her into a tight hug, that Aemma seemed to come back to her reality.  

“Mumma.” She wept into her Rhaenyra’s arms and hoped that the usual warmth from her mother’s hugs would wash away the cold chill that Aemma could not seem to shake. It was, however, unsuccessful and Aemma let her hands fall in despair. When her mother pulled back to find her brother’s and check over their injuries, she finally looked towards Aemond. 

Aemond who she had grown up with and planned her future with. Aemond who had chased her around the castle walls, and who had recited his favourite poems quietly under their special oak tree in the gardens. Aemond who had learnt the language of their ancestors so that he could whisper little jokes about those around them without their understanding. Aemond who had known every like and dislike that his best friend had. Aemond who had stolen her first kiss.  

Aemond who had his eye taken by his Aemma.   

He stared back at her.  

“Who did this!?” Alicent and Rhaenyra ordered at the same time.  

“They attacked me!” 

 “He attacked Baela!”  

“He broke Luke's nose!”  

“He stole my mother's dragon!” There were too many voices screaming at once making Aemma cradle her ears and force her eyes closed. Her mother pulled her towards her and cradled her tiny body as she continued to shout against Alicent. Aemma felt a comforting hand placed on her shoulder and turned to see her darling grandfather looking worriedly over her shaking body.  

“I need my father.” Aemma cried quietly and Corlys nodded in understanding. 

“I have sent for him little one. Do not worry.” 

“Who sliced his eye!?” Alicent screamed as the room fell to a sudden silence. The room was spinning as all the eyes turned to the young princess. Aemma turned desperately to her mother, shaking her head and silently begging her to understand. She did not mean to take his eye. She would never do that to Aemond. 

“She did not mean it.” Luke whispered, trying to defend his sister. She looked up to meet the eyes of the entire room. Then she turned to once again look at Aemond. He stared blankly at her face, as if he did not recognise her.  

She threw up down the front of her dress, sobbing through each retch.  

“She will never be anywhere my children again! Any thought of an engagement is ended.” Alicent looked at the girl in disgust as her mother tried to move her hair from the sick. She was delicate with her daughter, and was pained by the state of her. She had never seen someone look so fragile. 

“She is a child.” 

“AS IS HE! HE HAS LOST AN EYE AT THE HANDS OF YOUR DAUGHTER! SHE IS A SAVAGE!” Alicent screamed making Aemma sicker. She heard Aegon trying desperately to hold in his own vomit at the sight. 

“Gross!” He moaned, turning to face the fire. Alicent stared at her oldest son in hatred. Marching forward, she raised her hand and swiftly slapped the boy across the face. 

“Where were you?” She spat. Aegon stayed quiet and Aemma saw him sombrely try to fight back tears. 

“Aemond... I will have the truth of what happened! Now!” Viserys moved to the centre of the room as it yet again fell silent and Aemma cried as she tried to clean herself from her own sick. 

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed! Her son is responsible!” Alicent could not hide the disbelief she held as her husband seemed not to care for his mutilated son. Aemond did not seem interested in the unfolding scene and instead watched as Aemma stood helplessly in her own vomit. Even after everything, his heart ached at the sight of his best friend standing there so hopelessly.  

“It was a regrettable accident.” 

“Accident? The Princess Aemma brought a blade to the ambush. She meant to kill my son!” Aemma let out a cry of dispute but her mother pushed her daughter to stand behind her. 

“It was my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.” Was that enough to warrant the loss of Aemond’s eye? Definitely not! Aemma cried at the argument and could not help but stumble forward, trying to get back to him. The arguing between their parents seemed to get more vicious, but Aemond simply held out his hand for Aemma to reach for.  

 “Do not more any further you wretched little creature! I shall have your eye in return! A debt is to be paid!” Alicent leapt forward and Aemma quickly jumped back with a cry. Aemond jumped to his feet and watched as Aemma stumbled and fell to the ground.  

“Mother!” He cried out but the Maester was quick to pull him back down into his chair. It was Aegon who slid forward and blocked his mother’s view from his niece. He tried not to focus on the betrayal sketched onto Alicent’s face. Instead, he reached down to pull Aemma up and gently shoved her into Corlys’s awaiting arms. He would always hold a soft spot for his little niece, who’s fierce but gentle nature was something Aegon desperately wished he could copy. 

“My dear wife.” Visery’s could not hide his shock at his wife’s cruel disciplinary tactic but Alicent was focused only on Aemma, who had never been more scared than she was in this very moment.  

“She can choose which eye to keep, a privilege she did not grant my son.” 

“Mother do not dare!” Aemond’s order was delivered with a great amount of conviction, it was a shame no one was listening.  

“Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Aemma Velaryon!” 

“You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra was petrified for her daughter as she moved quickly to defend her first born. She could not bear the thought of anything happening to her little girl and she would not Alicent nor Criston get close. Daemon stood to the side of the room thinking the very same thing. 

“Stay your hand.”  

“No, you are sworn to me!” Alicent was broken now as she wept to her sworn shield. Her son had lost an eye and it seemed she was the only one to care for such a heinous crime. Her youngest son, her delight, the child she loved the most, she would defend him to the ends of the realm. Grabbing the handle of her husband’s dagger, Alicent only focused on little Aemma, and she felt a sickening delight at the cries of terror that left her little lungs. Perhaps they were just as loud as her son’s when his eye was torn from his face. 

Aemma felt her mother push her backwards as Corlys and Rhaenys both protectively pulled the small girl into their defensive bodies. Neither would let any harm befall their granddaughter and the mother would not let anything touch her daughter. Aemma wailed as she watched her mother wrestle Alicent, and when she saw the shine of the blade as it was sliced down upon her mother, Aemma fell completely silent. It was as if she was no longer in the room. No, she found herself back in the tunnels and all she could see was Aemond looking at her through his bloody face, weeping at the sight of her standing over his shaking body. 

“Come my love.” It wasn’t until her mother wrapped her tender fingers around Aemma’s shuddering hands that Aemma was back standing before the audience of her family. She quickly reached to cover her mother’s wound and they lay their foreheads against one another. 

“I am okay.” Turning to face the Queen, Aemma saw the entire room staring at Alicent. She couldn’t help but wonder what the older woman was thinking behind her horrified gaze and watched the blade fall from beneath her quivering fingers. 

“Do not mourn me, Mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... and my closest friend... but I gained a dragon.” Aemond slowly lifted himself so that he could cradle his broken mother, and stared blankly at Aemma. He tried to take her all in, but all he could see was her arm extended towards him and the glint of the knife in her hand. He shuddered at the thought. He could not, however, watch her cry any further because his heart seemed to be the most aching part of his broken body. 

  +++ 

Aemma had laid in bed but she could not find sleep. She knew the moment she closed her eyes she would relive the horror once again. Awake, she still could not shake the trauma. Her father Laenor had sat at the fire beside her bed trying to comfort her as she rested, but instead they had held onto one another’s hands tightly and cried. He mourned for his sister and wept for his daughter. Aemma ached for Aemond, prayed it all a horrible nightmare that she would wake up from. She yearned to awaken to find him waiting beneath her window, waving a book and pointing for her to meet him at the tree. 

“I wish I was a better father to you Aemma.” Laenor rested his head on the bed after he moved his chair to sit beside his distraught daughter. 

“You are the best father in this realm.” Aemma promised him. Their moments together throughout Aemma’s life were always fleeting, but the impact would be long-lasting on Aemma. Their quiet reminiscing on his sister and her best friend was quickly bought to an end when Rhaenyra and Daemon were announced into the room. Aemma tried to hide her head in her father’s hands, but she knew that this meeting was a moment in time that she could not turn away from. 

“I wish you rested more.” Her mother brushed Aemma’s tangled hair away from her pale face, and sighed at the dark circles beneath Aemma’s bright blue eyes. Daemon dragged a chair to sit beside Laenor and Aemma recognised the sadness in Laenor’s face. 

“What is it?” She whispered, holding tightly onto his hand. Taking in a deep breath, he squeezed and gazed defeatedly at his daughter. Because even though he knew Aemma was not of his blood, she was his darling daughter. 

“We... A plan has been made my child.” Her other hand was held by her mother and Aemma quickly sat to attention. She was sick of plans and schemes. She wanted to run. To flee this building and tug Aemond along with her. They were fools for not flying away when they visited their secret island. Aemma was the fool. Aemond was committed to leaving everything for her. 

Aemma did not think she had any tears to cry, but when she heard of the plan she wept like a baby. Her father, her darling Laenor, was to leave. He was to leave this family, this reality, and sail the oceans to live a life of anonymity. Aemma would have to fake her despair as news would come of his violent death. She would not witness his quick escape, but she would have to believe that he would make it to a tiny boat in disguise and row towards oblivion. She would never hear from her loving father again.  He was not strong enough to protect this family he had wept. He would see the world and he would leave Daemon to become the protector his children so desperately needed.  

“You must care for my parents Aemma. They will lose their only remaining child. They will be alone but they cannot know. My father will not understand me turning my back on duty. On his bloodline.” Aemma cradled Laenor when he wept for his parents. She wanted to curse him for abandoning her, but deep down, she knew the survival of her dear brothers, of her mother, of herself, were dependent on how these next twenty-four hours were executed.  

“I have made sure Laenor will survive Aemma. I promise you he will be safe.” Daemon held his heart as he swore the oath. Daemon looked at the girl with such passion and devotion to their cause that Aemma understood why the future union with her mother was to take place. He was the key to keeping everything intact. He would know no boundaries when it came to protecting this cause. 

“Why are you all telling me this? Have you told my brothers?” Aemma could not understand why the burden was on her shoulders. All she wanted was to be alone, not centralized in her family’s scheming. Her heart raced and she stared between each face.  

“You are my heir Aemma. You are a lady now and you are old enough to learn what it is to be in our position. After... Aemma after you maiming Aemond, you have brought the wrath of the Hightower’s on yourself. I need you to understand so you are safer from their threat. I need you to be strong during this time. Your life is about to become a tough battle, and you will realise that you can trust no one. No one but us. We need to keep together. We are safest when we are together. Nothing will tear us down.” Rhaenyra had held her daughter in comfort but Aemma understood clearly. Her days of girlhood were gone. She had no choice but to grow up. She was to become the heir to everything. She was to be coached and shaped into a leader. It was a journey she would have to take alone. 

Aemma would do it. For her family. But she had one condition. 

“I want to stay with Lord Corlys and Lady Rhaenys. If they think you have plotted my father’s murder, they will turn on you. Leave me here to be by their side. Let me keep them on our side. Corlys can train me in the way he leads his armies. He can teach me how to stand tall in front of my people.” She loved her grandparents, and she was happy to stay, but Aemma was running. They were not the reason she wanted to stay. She was running from the one person she knew she could no longer love.  

“You will not see Aemond for a very long time.” Laenor patted down her hair and Aemma slowly nodded in understanding. 

“And he must never know our secrets Aemma.” Her mother had added. She nodded again. No words were left in her body. She understood. 

 It was her family against his. 

+++ 

After Laenor’s corpse was bought forward, and after Aemma had comforted her grandparents while weeping for the loss of her father, she climbed the stairs. Aemond had been too delicate to transport but it was his final day before his family flew back to King’s Landing. The two families had avoided one another like the plague, but Aemma knew that if she did not say goodbye, she would regret it for eternity. It was a struggle to sneak around the guards posted at his door, and she was not entirely sure how she managed it, but Aemond had watched in disbelief as she slid into his chamber’s. He had just been praying to see her face once more. His mother had made him promise to stay away from her, but he needed to see her one last time. 

“You.” He was at a loss for words and by the looks of her downwards gaze, so was she. 

“Prince Aemond.” She curtsied. A long silence took over as they simply stared at one another in longing. They had both ached to be together again, but both had been lectured by their families on what their future held, and the importance of keeping their kin safe. 

“I hear the cuckold Laenor Velayron is dead. Now you are a bastard and father less.” Aemond sneered. Aemma simply bowed her head and simply nodded. 

“My dear father was murdered yes. Probably by some brutes your mother hired I don’t doubt.” Aemma knew it vital to play along in this game of charades. She knew she had to mourn Laenor, and she was, for he would never return to her again. 

“First Harwin Strong and now Laenor! I fear for my Uncle Daemon, who knows what will come of him getting so close to your bitch of a mother.” 

“Such big words for a child bedridden at the hands of a little girl.” Aemma scoffed. Aemond was stumped by her words. He was so used to her defending him against others, and it pained him that she was now the one to insult him.  

“I am leaving soon. Why have you come to pester me? You gloat of your wretchedness? You are proud of what you have done to me?” 

“I have come to bid you farewell.” Aemma moved to sit beside Aemond and he automatically reached for her arm. She squeezed his hand in comfort. It would be hard for the two children to overcome their habits. But it was necessary.  

“I shall be forced to see you in our dragon riding lessons in but two days. Then I shall show you all the true nature of riding a dragon.” He was prideful and Aemma felt her heart lurch. She would miss that. 

“I do not think Vhagar shall fit in the Dragonpit Aemond.”  

“She won’t. But I will find a way to join you. You shall be shadowed by the largest dragon in the realm. 

“Aegon will.” Aemma nodded as she stared at his bruised hands. She ran her thumb over the swelling, then placed pressure, making him flinch. “But I will not.” 

“What do you mean?” He growled. He wanted her to know he was angry. That he was betrayed. That the loss of his eyes was nothing compared to the hurt of having his dearest love turn on him so quickly. But Aemond, deep down, was scared. He was frightened because he knew what Aemma was about to say and the prospect of her leaving his side was nothing short of his worst nightmare. 

“I am to stay in Driftmark with my grandparents. I am to learn how to command fleets, and run armies. I am to train for when it is my time to take the Iron Throne. And you shall go back to your dull castle, riddled with liars and backstabbers, and you are going to play pretend. Your family are going to convince the realm that when the time comes, you shall be the undefeated. But none of you shall have seen conflict. Nor will you have seen the reality of what it costs. But I shall be prepared, dear Aemond. I shall be prepared and I shall take pleasure in destroying your family.” Every word felt like acid in her mouth, but Aemma knew what needed to be done. She knew the final tie to her girlhood needed to be severed. She knew she had to leave Aemond in her past. 

“You will leave me?” It is all he managed to say. He wanted to threaten her back, to defend his family, but he was helpless at the idea of losing the most important thing in the world. 

“Yes, dear Aemond, and I do not know how I shall survive being without you.” Aemma cupped his cheek and sadly smiled. “I have spent so long by your side. I do not know who I shall be without you.” Aemond felt the exact same way. 

“Then do not abandon me! Fuck our families! Let us...” Aemond wanted to say flea but the vivid flash of his mother using all her strength to defend him stopped the betrayal to her. He would never leave his mother’s side now that he saw the protection she gave. He owed her a debt, and he intended to fill it. 

Aemma placed her lips to his cheek, understanding the conflict that was drowning him. It was drowning her too. 

“Goodbye sweet Aemond. I shall listen for news of you. I shall... I shall miss the love I once had for you.” Have. 

“If you walk out that door Aemma I shall never forgive you. I will never want to see you again. If you leave me, I will spend the rest of my days hating you! I will curse you until the day I die! I will take your eye! I will make sure your debt is paid!” He sat up as he watched his friend move to the door and felt hope as her hand hovered over the handle. The tidal waves of emotions made him sick. He was so angry, but he was desperate for his friend. If Aemma turned back, he would know she could not leave him. He would know she could be convinced to join his family. She would not leave him. 

“If I see you again Aemond, and you pose any threat to my family, I shall tear out your other eye with my bare hands.” 

taglist: @solacestyles @lugiastark @ramielll @curiouser-an-curiouser @takemetotheweirdness @imoticon @ladymoon666

so crazy i have a taglist it's nice to know people are interested! thank you!!

[hauntedkidpersona]

Once upon a time// Chapter-5

Pairing- Polybts x reader

Summary-Choosing a husband is not easy, but bring in the seven princes and your in a lot of trouble.

Warnings: Duality of humans, Mistress, Y/N is a badass, Detachment issues, Cold behaviour, Strangers to enemies, Nudity, sexual jokes, talks of orgasm (nothing we don't know)

Overview: Life isn't like fairytale. You knew it the moment you reached a ripe age of nineteen. Which meant, your now a women who is in a hurry to be wed and bring prosperity and fame to your Kingdom. For this, you have readily accepted the self-groom event which requires you to select your husband out of all the potential Kings and Princes alike. But what happens when you select, not one. Not two but seven grooms? Chaos.

Masterlist-

A/n- Taglist is open for now.

Tags- @singukieee @shadowyjellyfishfest @inlovewithallmusic @lachimolala22019

The laughter of your maids echoed across the inner quarters, it was a peaceful afternoon. Even though the place outside was burning through the onslaught of the summer, like hot coal it would burn anyone unlucky.

But inside here, you were enjoying the breeze near the kadamba trees that were in full bloom. Looking over the crystal clear pool whose stage was graced in lotuses of all colours- purple being the most dominant.

"She is cheating, Princess." A shrill noise had you turn into the commotion, watching as the maids that littered around for a small play of chausar break into an argument.

Anika glares, "I wasn't, the rules didn't say you could back away your dices."

You sigh, taking measured sips of the cool lemonade. The Sky Palace was breathtaking, made of white marbles. It stood in stark contrast to its name, resembling the sheer vastness of the benevolent King that reins the land you trudge in delight. He sure has taken a great deal out of the small request you had of him.

But who knew your peaceful days would end soon.

Young and naive. That's what your father calls you. But how can one expect a 16 year old to behave like some matured person. Your days were peaceful, passing with the vivid imagination of the books you read. You had no interest in anything, and so you were even described as a lazy wart. For except beauty you possessed no special qualities of a royal. You were pampered and spoiled rotten, throwing tantrums was second nature by now.

But all that changed when you fell for him, the sweet man who would bring all your imagination to life. But who knew he was just a vile human waiting for an opportunity. Which he got.

You shut your eyes tightly, fisting your palms wherein the warm water failed to match the intensity with which your heart burned. You hissed, inspecting the now bloody palm pierced by your nails. The blood swirled into the water, burning through and through. You imagine his blood pouring out as you ruthlessly kill him, without an ounce of mercy. You can't wait to be blessed by his screams of terror, him begging for his life while you get the upper hand. You can't wait until you meet him again.

They were right. When a woman decides to take revenge, even the devil sits down to take lessons.

You have a deal with the King of the Sun Kingdom. You keep the Princes from leaving their duties, while he in return gets you what you want.

Simple as that.

Getting out, you wrap yourself in a towel.

Not waiting to call out Anika to bring your clothes, you walk out. Face stoic and heart made of steel.

"Princess," you somewhat hear Anika gasping at your blatant disregard of modesty.

You look ahead, glaring at Jin who was now looking at you with a wide open mouth. Is that your book in his hand? Did he fucking read it?

The fuck.

Jin couldn't take his eyes off of you. Your wet hair, swirling and parted as it clung to your hips. Your curves being defined but he cursed that cloth that was in between. He can't admire the beauty in front of him. The book and revenge was long forgotten as he spluttered, cheeks flushing in embarassment while you glared at him.

Poisonous, that's what your looks are. Dangerous and deadly, it could kill a man if you chose that body as a weapon of seduction.

"Get. Out. Right. Now." You shouted, partly screamed so loud that he knew the palace guards would be coming to check. Scrambling out of the bed, he almost falls but nonetheless he stands up quickly. Coughing a bit, as he rushes out with prominent red cheeks that burns in shame and embarassment.

"Are you mad, you were almost naked in front of him. Have some shame Princess, what will he think of you?" Anika blabbers as you plop onto your bed, effortlessly hiding your book for which you became so defensive.

"Are you even listening-

You rolled your eyes, the next second, a cloth was strewn right at your face. Knocking you off from the train of thoughts you boarded long time ago. You sit up, furiously, "So what, He is my husband and moreover I don't care. I am confident on my body, whoever sees it will die for it."

Your tone drops, dripping in arrogance. Why not? History is proof of how men kill, die and wage war for beauty. Your a women who knows how to manipulate pathetic men with your charms. You don't shy away by them who eye you in lust, knowing they can't ever have you. Same goes for that Prince Jin. He can watch you but can never have you.

Giving you a solemn look, Anika helps you in dressing. The quiet that follows is suffocating, but your in no hurry to pause it.

Decked in gold, you shimmer at the red robes that make you look lethal. That's what you like to do, terrorize others so they don't overstep their boundaries. With power comes responsibilities and with that, you build walls; too high to climb.

"Princess—" Keeping a hand on your shoulders, Anika turns you around; "You should know that the fire that burns in you will one day burn you too. I know it demands and reckons you to be rude, mean, cold and rebellious. But someday, this fire will burn out and all you will be left with is loneliness. So please try to be nice to the Princes, so that in future you have someone to care for you."

Pushing her hands away, you smile at her. "Loneliness doesn't scare me, people do. For you know what to expect from being alone but you can never say the same for the other. I am not here to make friends, for I have far greater enemies to take care of."

Jin clears his throat, avoiding looking at anyone as he speeds up inside the common place where all of his brothers from another mother gather. Maybe he can find someone free from his duties.

Entering inside the room, he is met with Yoongi, Taehyung and Jungkook who seem to be busy in their own world. Taking a seat, Jin pours himself a drink and gulps it down in one go. Which did not go unnoticed by them.

"Brother, you look like you ran a marathon." It was Taehyung who takes a jab first, as Yoongi chuckles.

"I did, that witch." He groans, unable to get the image of her out of his mind. You had no shame, whatsoever. Walking like that in front of him. What were you upto? He now knows, why your beauty is praised by all. It was as if you were carved by the celestial beings, and no you weren't petite. You had curves in all the right places and damn that white cloth of yours hid nothing to his imagination. Hiding that body beneath all that robes should be illegal. As soon as that thought arises, he bites his lip upto the point of bleeding.

No way.

He can't fall in your trap. Your purposely seducing him, trying to seperate him from Irene and he won't let you do that. Never.

Sensing whom he was calling witch, Taehyung inquires, "Why, what happened?"

"I saw her naked." He shouts, mad at God knows whom. Him, you or the situation.

Taehyung gasps, as Yoongi who was in the process of enjoying his drink coughs violently. While Jungkook, the innocent lamb's eyes were as wide as saucers. Cheeks tinting a dark shade of red.

After gathering himself, Yoongi and the others bombards him with questions,

"Are you kidding me? How?"

"Damn, It should have been me."

"How-w, I mean did you two do it?"

"What about Irene then?"

Jin sighs, glaring at Taehyung who was accusing him of seeing you like that. It should have been him, not his elder brother.

"Guys, do you think we can do it. I had rather die and she had rather kill me than bed me. As for seeing her naked, she had a cloth wrapped around her. I saw her cause she might have thought nobody was there and came out of the bath in minimal clothing."

Yoongi hums, not interested in knowing anything. While Taehyung smirks, clearly amused.

Entering inside the royal library, you heave a sigh. But that quickly changes when you see no guards on sight, where are they? Lacking on their duties like this. Shameful. Going inside, you frown. You can feel it in your gut, something isn't right. The silence being far more merciless than you. You look around, the sun rays exuding rays across the large windows that keep it's brilliance intact. You keep walking, your footsteps being the only companion.

A rustle, snaps you as you strike; pulling the stranger hiding behind the shelves as your knife is freed from your robes and clutched against the intruder's throat in blatant disregard of their life. You press it, drawing blood that takes a coppery path along the pale skin of that women.

Irene.

She screams, flailing against your arms but it was futile. "Leave me, Prince- someone save me."

"Shh, damsel in distress. From when your allowed inside the royal library huh? Who gave you the permission and the audacity?" You push back the knife, grabbing her chin harshly. You bring her close, nails digging into her flesh.

Irene flails grabbing her hands to free herself, "Prince gave me permission."

You smirk, "But the King told you to stay far away then how dare you to have the courage to spread your whore legs inside my quarters and on my bed bitch. Tell me, from where this defiance comes. Let me end that for once and all." She hissed. You were so done with her. You push her away, as you continue; "Get this in your damn head. If you love Prince Jin so much than stay where your put. Don't try to meddle in affairs your not allowed to. Your just his mistress, so don't try to anger me otherwise I would have you thrown out of the Palace faster than you spread that damn legs of yours."

Irene glares at you, "That will only happen if you come out alive, Prince loves me and it's you who has to get out of here."

"Oh Finally, I was waiting for when you drop the act and now here we are." You laugh, her empty threats not stirring you in the slightest.

Having enough, Irene raises her hand to slap you but your reflexes ground her, holding her hand you attack her eyes, stopping mere inces away. Her eyes widen in fear, as she stands in absolute terror. "One wrong move, and I will kill you."

She trembles, "You call me a whore but the real slut is you who has seven men as her husband's."

"Atleast I am not running behind other's husband. Poor you, living as Mistress and already soiled and ruined. If in future the Prince leaves you-" You mock her, hitting a nerve when she grits her teeth.

"What's happening here?" A voice thunders, as you quickly back away. Bowing down to the King that strides in with his guards on tail. Beside you Irene defiantly falls on the ground, disregarding all your warnings. Such an actor.

"My King, Princess hurt me. She wants to kill me, please save me." She wails, as you cringe at her act. Wrong move women.

The King raises an eyebrow, looking at you who shakes her head. She is really looking for trouble. Testing your patience, all because she was the beloved of Jin. You internally smirk, you will let her know today who holds the real power. Enough of the drama.

Hearing the commotion, Prince Namjoon and Prince Hoseok also arrive at the scene.

"Is it true?" King looks at you, as you feel the gaze of others burning upon you.

"Why would I? She is Nobody. It's actually her who thought it would be nice to fuck my husband in front of me. My King, she was inside my inner quarters the other day and she dared to soil my bed alongside Prince Jin. I was just warning her not to push her luck. And lastly, I have to defend myself if someone tries to raise their hands on me." You speak, keeping your mind calm and tone strict.

You didn't want to bring their act up but she left you with no options. If in future, she wishes to harm you than its better if you steer clear of her. For proof you called for the maids and guards that were present while this happened. They gave the same reply, even revealing your act of burning the sheets and everything that had soiled your room.

Irene gasps, "No, she is lying My King. Believe me."

"And If you had a problem then why didn't you say it the moment it happened? Why wait for now?" Namjoon interjects, clearly supporting Irene. You scoff.

Another thorn on way. Very well.

You smile at him, "I wanted to have peace with the Mistress of my husband but she clearly doesn't want that. Instead she is showing her powers, acting on wimp just because Prince Jin supports her. No maid is allowed inside the royal library, unless they are cleaning it and yet here she was. I warned her to stay in her place and in return she threatened to unalive me. Just because Prince Jin loves her." You mock, eyes glaring down at the women who refuses to look up. But judging by how tightly she is fisting her hand, you know she is furious. What a sight to see.

Hoseok looks astonished, "You threatened to kill the Princess, Irene? Is that true?"

Irene shakes her head, but that all stops when the King speaks, "Enough, you crossed your limits today. Guards, throw her out for she dared to raise a hand on a royal and moreover she had the audacity to enter the inner quarters of the future Queen. Going as far as threatening her—" he paused, looking down at the women his son dares to love, "But not before whipping her 200 times."

Just then, you heard hurried footsteps. Looking up, your met with a furious Jin and behind him an equally mad Yoongi who is accompanied by other Princes. "Father, leave Irene. She did nothing." Rushing towards her, he is about to take her in his arms but is stopped abruptly by the King who shows him a hand that clearly indicates him to stay right where he is.

"My decision is final. She is nothing but a servant slash Mistress. As far as I know, the law doesn't allow servants to attack Royals which she did and you even brought her to your wife's chambers to—" he stops, taking a deep breath to calm down the fury which is eager to erupt on his elder son. "—Shameless. Your blinded by her, how would you know what she does huh? Guards take her out, and If the Prince does something behind my back then kill the cause. Once and for all."

It was as if ice cold water was smacked against Jin who stared at his father with a blank look. Irene is taken by guards, while you try hard not to fidget. You know Jin won't leave you for this. Never. And damn you for not stopping the punishment of Irene. Your mind berates you. Jin used to spend the night at Irene's and in return you had a peaceful sleep.

But now your doomed.

Tch. Gone was your peaceful sleep. Better keep an eye on this raging Bull who might kill you in sleep.

The commotion soon dies down, as the King is escorted out. You also join him, cause only a fool will stay inside with seven wolves who are waiting to rip you apart. Anika would have your head for this. She told you to befriend the Princes but here you are, already making more enemies.

It's night by the time your done with your royal duties. Your returning to your quarters, limbs aching for some relief. Anika has found you, and she is berating you for the chaos that you didn't cause. You ignore her.

A maid rushes to you, "Princess, please do something. Prince Jin has gone mad and is destroying everything inside the inner quarters. He is also very drunk."

You sigh, nodding at her as you step inside your chamber. Not before ordering others to stay outside. The door is closed behind you, as you walk towards the man who throws the jug of water across the room with a force that cracks it in half.

Sensing your presence, Jin grins like a maniac.

"I was waiting for you."

You frown, already hating the stench of alcohol that graces you the second he moves close. Backing away, you maintain a dignified distance for you know Jin is not in his right mind.

Getting hurt is the last thing in your mind, especially when your dead tired.

Looking down, you show respect for the Prince. "Sorry, but we will talk later."

"You—," Jin comes to grab you, but before that you attack his pressure point. Knocking him out cold.

Going limp, Jin tumbles down. But before he reaches the rock hard ground, you grab him and pull him up.

Daylight comes as a fresh ocean current carrying birdsong and the aroma of petals, her rays deep-soaked in the love and laughter of the ages. But to Jin, it was like a wake up call for the pounding headache that he feels. Groaning, he turns around the soft bed. Opening his eyes, he is met with the unfamiliar room. It suddenly clicks.

Getting up, he is furious to know that you knocked him out. The whole room is back to how it was- neat, elegant and serene. Unlike the destruction that he matted out in drunk stupor.

He will kill you today for sure.

[thecameronchronicles]

Diner Girl

TW: bully!Rafe. Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your starcrossed existence leads to high tensions and low inhibitions. 

WORD COUNT: 1500

REQUESTED

Hi!

I have an idea that you can totally disregard or even link something similar!

College Rafe who bullies reader and they are a waitress at a restaurant and he shows up with his friends and they have to wait his table. 

Idk if that is enough to go off of, or again, if u have something similar. 

You are so talented, thank you so so much lovely!

💙💙💙

*I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ONE!*

Diner Girl 

The day was already too long with low tips and ill-tempered customers. If not for the break taken halfway through your shift, you may have broken through that forced smile with one more "what can I get for you". But with an hour left until you could retire out of this uniform and into the comfort of the bubble bath that allowed you to push through the day, you were counting down every single second. 

And then the bell drew your attention to the door. It was common for a peer to venture in at this particular hour for a late night cup of coffee or even to find a means to sober up from an early night's events. But when you saw him enter with his band of equally misogynistic and narcissistic friends, you didn't care to hide your annoyance. 

"And to think, I was even going to tip you real nice." Rafe teased, bending himself over the counter as his blonde friend smirked at you at his side. "Here's one...use this to get some decent clothes..." He explained while offering a small collection of folded bills.

"Rafe Cameron doesn't like my clothes?" You feigned hurt before rolling your eyes. "How will I sleep knowing I don't have the king Kook's attention? Oh please Rafe ..like me..." You bent further towards him. Enough to taste the change in his breathing. 

"Kiss me..." You had no interest to actually act on this and yet you basked in his reaction to you. The way you could alter him from vile to vulnerable in a closed proximity was enduring. All while you realized it could bring some form of entertainment in the final hour of your shift. 

"Or you could just order so I can go home." You pulled back behind the counter. 

"I'll have you bent over overeasy...at least that's how the football team describes you...over...easy..."

This brigade of insults would continue until it seemed as if nobody else existed in the space around you. As "oohs" and "ahhs" came from patrons of the establishment and your co-workers, the heat only built between you. Comments of his silver spoon upbringing and your lesser than desirable poverty had been at the crux of most verbal blows. 

"You're just jealous because the best you're ever gonna have is the fifteen seconds with some drunk sorority girl who only thinks you're good because she is imagining someone else. Maybe you," You looked at his friend, offering a wink as he blushed. 

"And ten of those seconds would be you trying to figure out how to get her undressed."

"Believe me, I know my way around undressing a girl." His eyes fell down your physique as if doing so with his eyes. 

"Lucky for me, I never have to find out "

"I wouldn't be caught dead touching you."

"But you're dying to know how I feel, aren't you? Bet you're straining in your seam for me..." You chuckled. "Want to know how I'd taste...sound ..feel..." You were pressed at his chest, palm close enough to feel his raging pulse beneath your hand as you'd rounded the counter. 

"Maybe one of the other girls are brain dead enough to entertain the idea of you. But I'd rather be fucked by a hot poker than touched by you. Even by accident. God knows the germs you have..."

"At least I can afford to clean up. You're always gonna be a dirty little pogue." He spat as your brow arched. 

"Just one you're never gonna get." You teased his lips before pulling yourself to the exit of the restaurant. Apron left on the hook as you'd clocked out, you shuffled for your keys, wearing a smile of pride wide across your face. But you weren't allowed even two steps away from the rest exit before you were taken against the back wall of the diner. 

"Have your fun?" Rafe asked, knee set between your legs as you gasped. 

"Took it a bit far tonight, don't you think?"

"Only took it like you gave."

"I could have you bent over that counter and fuck that little attitude out of you..."

"I don't know, Rafe...Just s dirty little pogue…" You teased his belt. 

"I have quite a lot of attitude...".

"Good thing I can fuck you more ways than one then..." He kissed you harshly, the familiar fire quelling your need to rival him. But just as you'd found comfort in his lips, he had retreated and descended to your chest. The basic tee set over your torso was pulled to free your breasts. The bitter bite of the night air was challenged by the fervent need of his tongue and lips at your exposed skin. 

"What would your friends think?" You asked him as he looked up to you just long enough to notice the smirk across your face. 

"I don't give a shit..."

"Then take me back and fuck me on the counter..." 

"I don't care if they know about us. I don't want them to hear you. To see those little faces you make for me. Because if they have even a fraction of the same effect, they're gonna be just as driven to make them happen...and nobody gets to do that to you but me-"

"And the football team?" He scoffed. 

"I'm more than enough for you. You prove it everytime you wince for me when I'm inside of you. The pain of being bigger than what you're used to...and you love it...you love the pain..."

"I love how you feel..." You explained with your hand fisting at his shirt. "But I hate how you treat me."

He shook his head. 

"Then why are you so fucking wet?" You were lifted above the wall, the quick swipe made of his hand having now been used to guide your panties to the side as his other hand undressed himself. 

"Gotta be quick this time...but you're still gonna come shaking for me..." Before you could object, you were forced over his cock. That wince he spoke of had been released as a complete whimper of former confidence as you arched your back to his beginning motions. 

"Rafe!"

"Wanna come for me already?" You nodded. 

"A bit desperate tonight?"

"Always..." You confessed, submitting to him as nobody felt like him. Absolutely nobody. His greedy touch, still somehow compassionate, was addictive. Not to mention the dirty words he spoke that navigated perfectly to your clit as not even a brush of his fingers were needed to make you tremble. 

"Then come for me. But you're gonna make me come twice as hard, sweetheart..." He almost growled into your neck as your body built to a quick high that he delayed gratification to. 

"Rafe!"

"I think you should apologize. What you said was hurtful you know...gotta be held accountable for what you say..."

"You can't be serious..."

"I'm as serious as my cock is hard...so apologize or you don't get to come." 

"You won't just stop midway."

"Who said?" He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck. "I said YOU don't get to come. But I have your body at my disposal and there's at least half a dozen different ways I could use it to come...not to mention from behind...so be my good girl and apologize." You swallowed hard to the fire behind his eyes, well aware his threats were not empty. 

"I'm sorry...you're such a baby..." His jaw cocked as he forced you to the soles of your feet. Using this grip on the back of your neck, you were turned away from him. Skirt lifted and panties ripped clean off your hip. As you turned to face him, a smart remark on the tip of your tongue, you would feel him set the panties in this attempt. 

"Taste what I do to you and shut the fuck up while I prove it to myself." He grilled your hair harshly as he thrusted into you. Interlaced fingers stabilized him against the wall as you were both ignorant to his curious friends calling out in search for him. If either of you noticed, you didn't dnt dare even a glance,  as you were too wrapped in each other. The same way it has always been. Fingers leaving evidence in each other's arms as you came to that edge. 

"Fuck, this pussy missed me, didn't she? Already crying and now begging...You could learn a thing or two..."

"I'm not begging for you, Rafe..."

"That's okay...I just need you to scream for me." He battered you harder onto the wall as you unintentionally acquiesced. Whimpers and whines leaving you trembling as you bit your bottom lip against him. 

"I'm coming-" He took his hand around your neck from behind, guiding you to face him. 

"And you're gonna be really good for me and make me come first...then we'll see if I forgive you enough for being such a brat to let you come." You groaned before feeling him tease your clit with his thumb. 

"Pathetic." He spat as you groaned, refusing to beg, but the whimper accommodating the need anyhow. 

"So fucking tight...oh my God..." He grunted. 

"For me." He validated as you nodded. 

"For now." He clenched his jaw while kissing you to keep you quiet. His hands were at a war between your hair, hips, and breasts, until finalizing into the wall as he found his release. 

"Rafe!" You mewled as he redressed. 

"Maybe next time you should apologize..." 

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @belcalis9503

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[kamikazia]

Trigger Warning: Sexual assault, Abuse So, I made a (now-deleted) post about Chainsaw Man's most recent chapter where I joked about fans being incredibly upset over what I considered one of the more tame moments in Denji's life. To me, it was a strange moment but there was little that made it stand-out to me. Then, I saw another tumblr post that describe the issue of consent.

For those unaware, the protagonist of CSM, Denji, got a handjob. It's not especially graphic except for 1 panel, but if you made it through 100 chapters of Chainsaw Man then you'll know it's not the grossest thing in the series. In my opinion, the chapter's a piece of art- when taken on its own, it's disturbing and horrific much in the same way that Stephen King's work is. When taken in context of the overall story, it's actually a really important chapter in understanding the themes of Chainsaw Man- particularly those involving sex, romance, and consent.

As of writing this, we don't know the fallout from this event. Denji didn't consent, and I've seen some discussion over implied consent, but I can't really make a case either way- implied consent is often used in stories (such as when one lead suddenly kisses another without saying anything) and I don't know the author's intent. I think that the ambiguity of it is intentional, and regardless of the author's intent that it's still very much a scene of sexual assault. Denji may be sex-craved, but he's still got human emotions. I haven't seen many people even discuss the fact that Asa (the female lead during this arc) had control of her body taken from her by a devil, and had it returned only to find her hand stained in cum.

Why do I say it's ambiguous? Because sexual assault is often fetishized. I've seen people cheering on Denji, I've seen jokes about the fact that Asa suddenly awoke having been violated, and I've even seen arguments that the scene is romantic. I don't know about the romance aspect of it- it's still very much a horrific scene where the leads are used against their will, but I think there's an argument to be made that one of the more horrifying aspects is that there IS a romantic lean to it. The chapter is mainly composed of Denji and Asa (whose body is possessed) making out, with the implication that either Asa or the devil possessing her has fallen in love with Denji. Morally, it's abhorrent. Yet, I think that's part of what makes it a compelling chapter. It really shows the complexity of human emotions with using a visual medium- no matter how vile the scene actually is. It's like a Rorschach test- everyone looks at it, and sees the same thing, but interprets it with different meaning. It's a litmus test for how the reader tolerates SA.

This isn't the only chapter with sexual assault. It's just a very prominent one because it's the sole focus of the chapter.

With all this out of the way, I want to give my stance: This scene is horrifying and yet compelling. It's not erotic, and anyone who argues that it is should be ashamed. Sexual violence is horrific, and the feelings people get from it are complicated. I'm a victim of abuse, albeit not explicitly sexual in nature. I look at my own abuse with complex emotions. At times, I try to justify what happened to me. At other times, I feel righteous outrage at what was done. I can't really say that there's any one way to feel about abuse, and that's just the horrifying reality of it.

I'm likely over-analyzing this chapter. I'm probably way off-base, and my stance on it could be wrong. If so, I would love if people would correct me. I don't really have a point to make, I just wanted to give this chapter a more serious look since my previous post was rather shallow.