#extinguished bridges

[neuronmachine]

hear me out. smitten/hero/cold.

it’s like burned bridges except this extremely normal guy is also there to be like “can you guys chill for five seconds. can you act like you love eachother.” every time cold and smitten get into an argument

[lesbianboyfriend]

phoenix wright should have a mobility aid. as a little treat for me

[slav-every-day]

[sk-33-t-3-r]

phoenix wright,,

[goticamarey]

Oh athena... Just you wait for someone to tell you all about phoenix's past cases.

[rosemaryhoney27]

"Diplomacy for the Feral and the Damned"

Bruce had just sat down in the Batcave with his second cup of post-patrol coffee—black as his mood, strong enough to keep a Kryptonian awake—when his private line buzzed. Not the Batline. Not the board line. The one buried so deep in encryption and passive-aggressive threats that even Oracle called it “Extra-Paranoid Mode.”

He stared. [Incoming Call: Vladimir Masters]

Bruce blinked. “…Oh, this is going to be a day.”

He answered with the flat monotone that had driven Gotham’s underworld into therapy. “Vlad.”

The holographic screen flickered to life—and there he was. Vladimir Masters, looking every inch the eccentric billionaire and possibly more ghost than man now. Silver-haired, in a robe that screamed “I paid three million for this and regret nothing,” surrounded by classical art, levitating books, and the faint crackle of ectoplasmic interference. The whole aesthetic screamed “If Lex Luthor was haunted by a Victorian novelist.”

Vlad beamed. “Brucie!”

Bruce’s eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”

“It’s lovely to hear your voice, dear cousin. It’s been too long.”

Jason, eavesdropping from the shadows with popcorn, whispered, “Wait. Cousin? Since when do we have that brand of family drama?”

“Shh,” Tim muttered, scribbling something labeled Possible Interdimensional Ghost Cousins Conspiracy.

“I need your advice,” Vlad continued. “Something very personal. Deeply serious.”

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What now, Vlad?”

Vlad leaned forward, the screen staticking briefly. “How do you get your children to be civil with you?”

There was silence. Real, echoing, existential silence.

“…I wasn’t aware you had adopted children, Vlad,” Bruce said slowly, like trying not to scare off a rabid raccoon.

“I haven’t. Not technically,” Vlad said breezily. “But my godson is staying with me. Lovely boy. Has the appetite of a black hole and the sense of self-preservation of a rabid badger.”

“...Oh god,” whispered Dick, “he sounds like all of us.”

“Cute that Masters thinks we’re civil,” Damian sniffed. “How charmingly misinformed.”

“Wait. He said godson?” Tim asked, eyes lighting up. “Do you think—could it be—Phantom?”

Vlad didn’t notice the peanut gallery commentary. “The boy has caused four minor diplomatic incidents, bitten a baron, vanished into the ceiling during a formal gala, and accused a senator of being a reptilian. Which turned out to be accurate, but the delivery was unkind.”

Bruce squinted. “That sounds like… Dick, Damian, and Tim at the Wayne Foundation Spring Gala ‘19.”

“I know!” Vlad pointed at him like a man discovering fire. “That’s exactly what I said! He’s like your sons! In one small, glowing, vaguely feral body!”

“Glowing?” Steph mouthed. “Definitely Phantom.”

“So, cousin dearest,” Vlad purred. “How do you get them to listen? How do you parent the chaos incarnate?”

Bruce took a long, tired sip of his coffee and simply said, “I don’t.”

“…You don’t?”

“I survive it.”

“Bold of him to call this survival,” muttered Cass as Jason started texting Alfred for cookies and emotional support.

“Each one is an unpredictable event wrapped in trauma and tactical gear,” Bruce continued flatly. “They will not listen. They may occasionally pretend to. But only after chaos. Much, much chaos.”

Vlad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So there’s no secret Wayne method? No clever strategy?”

“...Cookies?” Bruce offered.

From beneath the desk, something gnawed at Vlad’s ankle.

He glanced down and hissed, “Danny, stop that, I told you we don’t bite family!”

“He said that senator looked like a snake,” came the muffled voice. “And I was right.”

Vlad groaned. “Why couldn’t he just be one kind of disaster? Why all of them?”

Jason grinned. “I like this kid.”

“New cousin,” Steph agreed. “Absolutely chaotic. Ten outta ten.”

Vlad looked back up at Bruce. “So. No help?”

Bruce looked thoughtful. “Keep fire extinguishers on hand. Avoid hosting events near chandeliers. Always assume they have at least two hidden weapons. And get used to being called ‘Dad’ at the most inconvenient political moments.”

A pause.

“Also,” he added, “tell him you’re proud. Even when he’s a disaster. Especially then.”

Vlad blinked. “...That worked for you?”

Bruce glanced around the cave. Steph had stolen Tim’s notes and was writing “FERAL COUSIN CLUB” across the top. Jason was already planning a trip to Amity Park. Damian was silently judging the snack selection of this new relative. And Dick was on his phone already texting Danny memes.

“…Eventually,” Bruce muttered.

“Charming,” Vlad sighed.

From under the desk: crunch.

“Danny! Stop chewing my furniture!”

Danny peeked out, sharp-toothed grin gleaming, eyes flickering green. “Tell B-man I wanna go to one of those galas next time. I wanna meet chandelier boy.”

Jason fist-pumped. “YES.”

Bruce just sighed. “...I’ll warn the staff.”

[roastyoualive]

Do you know how many Fridays we have left in this year? 2. 2 exactly. That means 50 Fridays have passed us by. And, boy, have they passed us by in a flash. In those 50 Fridays you’ve had some great laughs. You’ve had some cries. You’ve made friends. You’ve had losses. But, most of all. You did it! You made it to 2 Fridays until the end of the year. Things to wrap up and things to blossom. And all I want to say is that I’m so proud of you. Life isn’t easy. It just isn’t. You’ve had hardships that you haven’t told anyone and joys you’ve kept to yourself as well. Regardless of any of the outcomes, I’m happy to see you’re still here. And I think while we’re celebrating you, you should celebrate yourself as well. Giving yourself kindness in anyway is an amazing way to celebrate. So go see some lights, go drink a holiday drink, buy yourself something small. You deserve it and I’m rooting for you! - 💜💜 Victoria

“Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it.” - Greg Anderson

Even if it takes me forever to answer, I still love all of these! It’s such a nice way to inject a bit of positivity into someone’s day. Please never change <3

[pseudowho]

When you moved in with Nanami Kento, despite having spent countless days and nights there prior, he insisted upon orienting you to the penthouse.

"The rubbish is collected on Tuesdays, unless there's a public holiday, in which case it's collected on Wednesday," Kento droned, as if he'd rehearsed his lines in advance.

You followed him, pulling a suitcase behind you with a fixed expression of earnest interest. You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh every time he turned his back to you, before schooling your expression again the second he looked back.

"Okay, Kento. Wednesday, got it. Anyway, I thought we could order some takeout, and celebrate--"

"No." He snipped, turning back to you with narrowed eyes, "Tuesday, unless there's a public holiday, in which case--"

"--it's collected Wednesday. Okay. I hear you."

Kento narrowed his eyes a little more. You stood to attention. A heartbeat passed.

"Good." Kento looked down, ticking something off his list, and you felt yourself wither and die with equal parts adoration and exasperation.

"Next, fire safety."

"Oh, god--"

"Pardon?"

"Oh, god, I love fire safety!"

"Good. We have lots to cover. First of all, the designated fire exits are marked on the map, here, here, and here."

"This, er...this laminated one?"

"Yes. I have one too."

"Oh, we match~<3"

"It's important that we're both adhering to the same protocol."

As Kento continued, highlighting fire doors, and escape routes, and emergency contact details, your mind began to wander. His voice, while deep and smooth, ran monotonous when left to run for too long, and your eyelids drooped, your arm sagging on your suitcase handle, and--

"Are you listening?"

"Me? God, yes, I love...water based fire extinguishers. I use them on everything."

Kento prickled, a shiver rippling up his beige suit from toe to shoulder, "I certainly hope not, water can only be used on wood fires, or--"

"--or my flaming hot pussy, because this is really getting my engine goi--"

"--I feel like you're not taking fire safety seriously."

"Kento...please--"

"Because it excites me when fire safety is taken seriously."

When Kento turned his back again, you turned too, dropping your suitcase and dragging your palms down your face, a silently screaming oil-paint figure on a bridge.

"Regarding bathroom etiquette," Kento toned, his voice flat, as you thudded your head once against the drywall. By the time he leaned around the corner to look at you, you smiled, bright and attentive.

"What was that noise?"

"I...jumped. Out of...excitement."

Another silence. Another narrowing of the eyes.

"Good," Kento pipped, "as I was saying, regarding bathroom etiquette, I hope you're not one of those reprobates that squeezes from the middle of the tube--"

"Oh, no, I prefer to suck it straight from the tube--"

"--I beg your pardon--"

"--Kento, are you anxious?" Kento froze with his back to you. The toothpaste lid squeezed off with force in his hand, clattering across the bathroom floor. A slow coil of toothpaste squeezed out of the tube, to slug down his clenched fist.

You crept closer, and slipped a hand under Kento's suit jacket to his lower back, and stroked it. You felt the tautness in the muscles beneath his shirt, as rigid as a door of oak.

"Are you anxious about me moving in?" You repeated, your voice soft. Kento swallowed, hard.

"How...how could you tell?"

You sighed. When you turned Kento to face you, he could hardly maintain eye contact, looking anywhere but at you. You could see the worry beneath his thin facade.

"Nothing's going to change," you whispered, cupping his cheeks in your palms, "and if it does change, it'll change for the better. And I can't wait. I can't wait for...for every late night, and every early morning. I can't wait for every hug, and every argument, and every day off where we can just wake up in each other's arms, and say good morning instead of texting each other good morning."

Kento melted into your touch, his palm rising to cup yours against his cheek. His voice was tight, exerting control in what little way he could.

"I'm just determined to get this right. You're everything to me, and if I got this wrong I'd never forgive myself."

"There's nothing to get wrong. Or, if there is, it doesn't matter, because we know we're safe together. We'll forgive each other. Alright?"

Kento sighed through his nose, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Just tell me one thing."

"What is it?"

"...do you really not know which fire extinguisher to use for an electrical fire--"

"You are joking, Kento."

"I never joke about fire safety."

[aceattorneygamesfan]

as much as I love Narumitsu fanfics where Phoenix gets into trouble and almost dies, and Miles experiences extreme suffering and then hugs Phoenix in tears because everything turned out well, i think that after “Bridge to the Turnabout” Miles won’t give a fuck . Because he already knows that Nick just can't die and he hadn’t even heard about the incident with the poison necklace or fire extinguisher yet.

-Mr. Edgeworth...I'm sorry...Your husband was shot and he is now in the hospital. We don't know if he will survive...

-Great, now I have to postpone our dinner at the restaurant because this idiot didn’t make it to court on time. Why did I marry him?

And an hour later he arrives on a bicycle unharmed and wins the case completely unprepared. A typical day in the life of Phoenix Wright

[osamucide]

WHAT THEIR LOVE FEELS LIKE . . .

. . . ft. BSD men

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA . . . freshly steamed rice, sherpa blankets, the moon in the sky during the day, well-loved dirt paths, comfortable sweatpants, clean kitchens, perfectly made lemonade, finding a dollar in your pocket, gentle cat paws, scratching a lover's back.

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI . . . used books with vigilant annotations in them, jazz music, charm bracelets, quiet and steady streams, lined leather journals, light rain, flickering flourescent light, cracking the spine of a new novel, knowing looks, linking pinkies while walking, caramel drizzle.

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA . . . boozy chocolate-covered cherries, leather car interior, red sangria, gold jewelry, peeled clementines, extinguished matches, the peaceful room next door to a party, counting a lover's freckles, cupping your hands around a flame, divine geometry.

⊹ AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE . . . star anise, black lace, fig jam, perfect puddles of rainwater, vanilla ice cream, soft distant thunder, silver jewelry, blackberry-stained lips and fingertips, tracing sweet words into a lover's palm, the moment of silence and peace when you pass beneath a bridge while it rains.

⊹ RANPO EDOGAWA . . . shortbread cookies, wool socks, poppies, stray eyelashes, strawberry jam, argyle and pastels, candied fruit, chess matches, foil-wrapped chocolates with sweet sayings inside, when a dog at a party likes you best, collections of old keys, shooting stars.

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA . . . peonies, perfectly pulled shots of espresso, letters with broken wax seals, comfortable routines, toffee and brown sugar, freshly ironed clothes, finding something that's been lost, completed to-do lists, cats sleeping atop stacks of books.

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA . . . photo albums hidden in plain sight, flickering candles, the breeze on a cloudy beach, stars on a clear night, perfectly steeped tea, crackling fireplaces, a safety net, clean sheets and pillowcases, crisp mountain air, packing a lover's lunch in the morning.

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA . . . steam from a bath, soft and implacable floral scents, typewriter font, concentric tree circles, fallen bird feathers, uplifting newspaper headlines, children's laughter, protective hugs from behind, stratus clouds like blankets over the sky, dreams that make you want to sleep longer.

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI . . . brown italian leather, vintage cameras, subtle gemstone details, warm french bread, fancy bookmarks, polaroids in your wallet, tying a lover's shoes, laughing at everything when you've drank a bit too much, dried rosemary and blood orange and pomegranate.

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY . . . frost-covered cranberries, string music, coffee table books on classical art, accidental halos of light, perfectly toasted marshmallows, the crunch of fresh snow beneath your boot, coconut and dark chocolate, a stray cat trusting you to pet it.

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL . . . pistachio ice cream, mourning doves on a wire, strands of pearls, opalescence, sitting side by side at a piano, salt water taffy, blowing a perfect bubble with your gum, the television flickering as you sleep, cradling a lover's face, banana pudding trifle.

⊹ SIGMA . . . fresh linen smell, rose gardens, pressed flowers, sleek dress shoes, swan necks in the shape of a heart, satin and silk, bouquets in translucent cellophane, sleeves wide enough to fit someone else's arms in, lace folding fans, white chocolate truffles.

[demonpiratehuntress]

before you (Straw Hats + Ace, Law)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - they find out you had a crush on someone else on the crew/someone they know before them

warnings - none

a/n - one energy drink later, i have three posts out...oh well, i'm not complaining

ZORO

Honestly, he didn't even care.

Until he learned who it was, that is.

"You had a crush on WHO?!" Is what the rest of the crew woke up to one day. You tried your best to hush him, saying that everyone's sleeping, but he was having a meltdown.

A few minutes later, when everyone was piling into the kitchen for breakfast, eyes still losing remnants of sleepiness, they saw the swordsman sitting at the table, one blade ominously on his lap.

"Uh, Zoro?" Usopp laughed nervously, putting Sanji between himself and Zoro. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to talk to Luffy," came the steely, scary calm response.

"Me?" The captain blinked. "What did I do?"

You stood at the back of the group, rubbing your temples. Bickering with Zoro had taken a lot out of you, the stubborn swordsman refusing to accept the fact that your crush on Luffy was in the past.

"Let's go," Nami was the first to leave, deciding that whatever it was could stay between the two arguably strongest members of the group. Then she seemed to realise that, and froze. "Actually, absolutely not."

But before she could get to either one of them, Zoro demonstrated just what had made him so frightening to pirates and lunged at Luffy with inhuman speed. Which resulted in him chasing the captain around the Going Merry, yelling at him and slashing with his sword - possibly taking a hair off Luffy's head.

"WHAT DID I DO?!"

ACE

When you revealed that you used to have a - harmless, innocent, you added - crush on Marco, Ace immediately wanted to throw himself overboard. He's so dramatic, acting like you stabbed him in the back, pouting for the rest of the day.

When anyone asked him what was wrong, he crossed his arms, huffed, and said, "Ask (Name), the traitor."

You just sighed, explaining that he's upset over something you said. But then moments later, Marco appeared and Ace practically glowers in his direction, mini flames burning in his eyes.

"Will you calm down!" You exclaimed, putting yourself between the two of them as Ace raised a flame-engulfed hand.

Marco raised an eyebrow, "What's with him now?"

"Nothing!" You assured him, then turned your gaze on Ace, an intense look in your eyes, "Right, Ace? We're all fine."

"...Right," he murmured, extinguishing his ball of fire. He looked away, refusing to even glance in Marco's direction now. He crossed his thick arms over his bare chest, grumbling under his breath.

Marco eyed him warily, but walked away without questioning Ace's odd behaviour further. No one could ever explain it anyway.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Ace, look at me."

"No."

"Ace!"

"No!"

Giving up, you just wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, pressing featherlight kisses to his shoulder. When his body visibly relaxed, you grinned.

"...I hate when you do that," he mumbled, annoyance fading quickly.

"Liar, you love it."

LAW

Law offered you a...blank look. This information was not exactly new to him. He had already known, after all he'd been there to witness it. He just wondered why you found it necessary to tell him about it, especially when it wasn't relevant to him at all.

The changes were subtle, but you started noticing them as the days passed by. Penguin's workload increased, he was told to do more chores, and Law even gave into some of the other crew's demands - which were made to tease Penguin - to make Penguin do their chores.

"Did I...did I do something wrong?" You heard him asking Shachi and Bepo one day, panic in his voice.

You made your way to Law's quarters, knocking before you stepped inside, "Is there a reason that Penguin seems to be doing half the crew's work recently?"

For a brief, imperceptible moment, Law tensed. Then he regained his composure, and spoke without lifting his eyes from his work, "I don't know what you mean, (Name)-ya."

"I think you do," you walked over, standing right beside him. "And it's not his fault."

"Of course not. He simply volunteered to assist other crewmembers."

You sighed, shaking your head, "So it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I used to have a crush on him before I started liking you?"

Again, that barely-noticeable tension, before the calm returned, "You did? Fascinating." His tone was dry, and you found it incredible that he could deny what was so obvious while simultaneously insulting you with a sarcastic remark.

"But I told you-"

"When? I don't recall."

You sighed. This man was impossible.

LUFFY

Luffy burst out laughing, unfazed by your admission. Oh, you had a crush on Usopp before you started liking him? No problem! What could he do about it? It was in the past, no sense dwelling on it.

"Uh...are you sure, Luffy?" You raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed that he wasn't more worked up about it.

"Yes!" The captain beamed. "You're mine now, right? It doesn't matter!"

While his logic was absolutely flawless, for once since you'd met him, you were bewildered. He was so calm about this, remaining cheerful despite you telling him you liked another crewmember once.

But over the next few days, there were signs that it affected him more than you thought. Usopp was suddenly sitting way across from you at the table, never volunteered to pair up with you when you split into groups at nearby islands, and always avoided eye contact when you spoke to him - though you later found out he was just watching out for the captain.

"Luffy!" You called, after getting sick of Usopp's hesitance to be anywhere near you alone, even on the ship.

"Yes, (Name)?" Your boyfriend smiled innocently, though that might have been because he either forgot what he did, or he didn't see anything wrong with it.

"Why is Usopp behaving like that?" You asked him. "Is this because of what I told you?"

Luffy laughed, shaking his head, "No, I'm sure it's just because he's not feeling well!"

"Uh huh..."

Luffy extended his arms to grab you, pulling you onto Merry's figurehead with him, "Let's stop talking about Usopp."

His tone left no room for argument.

SANJI

One would think that you had just broken up with him, or beat him over the head with a wooden plank severely. The chef was laying on the floor, after having passed out, now crying rivers.

"Sanji-" You began, but didn't know what to tell him.

"My heart!" He wailed, "How could you do this to me, my sweet (Name)?!"

"What did you do?" Nami asked you, laughing.

"I just told him that I used to like Zoro," you sighed, "And now he won't stop saying that I broke his heart."

Chopper went to check on Sanji, worried that you revelation might have actually impacted him - only to find out that Sanji was, in fact, just being overly dramatic.

"Sanji-" You started again.

"Noooo!" He cried, pouting. "It hurts too much!"

"Get over yourself, idiot," Zoro grumbled, "It's not like she still has those feelings."

That seemed to snap Sanji out of it, because then he was on his feet and he kicked the swordsman through the wall. Usopp screamed and rushed to inspect the damage, while you gave Nami one look and she broke the fight up by twisting both their ears like they were little kids, until they apologised.

USOPP

He was devastated. Because what do you mean you used to like Sanji???? What do you mean you had a crush on the most romantic, most flirtatious Straw Hat????? He almost passed out, but ended up crying instead.

And then he tried to take Sanji out - the sniping kind.

"Usopp!" You laughed when you saw him take aim at the chef while he was cooking. "Stop that!"

He stopped, standing up straight and hiding his slingshot behind his back, trying to look innocent, as if he hadn't just been attempting to assassinate the blonde cook.

You assumed that was the last of it, as you had assured him your crush on Sanji was in the past, and would never resurface again.

Then you heard screaming, a loud bang, and a frustrated yell.

When you got to where the commotion was, the rest of the crew was there. Luffy and Zoro were laughing, because Sanji's hair was standing up in all different directions, his face looking like he'd put it near a bomb.

Or like a bomb had exploded near him...

"Usopp!" You yelled, "Why did you do that?! I mean, I know why, but I thought we were over this!"

"I'm satisfied now," he said proudly, walking away.

Sanji tried to go after him, but Nami helped you out by stopping him - she actually just wanted an excuse to hit him.

There was never a dull day with the Straw Hat crew.

[eufezco]

IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BABY𓂃 𓈒 ❀

finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader

synopsis – forced back into the 75th hunger games, finnick decided to play his role for the audience better than ever, staging one last trick to save you. but do you wanna be saved?

caesar flickerman beamed as he welcomed finnick onto the stage. the moment he stepped into the spotlight, the audience exploded—men roared his name, and women called out for his attention, their voices a symphony of the admiration they had for him.

―thank you, thank you so much, ―finnick smiled and waved to the audience who had welcomed him so warmly. the capitol had always adored him, but tonight, their adoration felt almost feverish.

he was especially handsome that night. his stylist had dressed him in a flowing white shirt, its fabric so light it clung to his frame like a second skin. the deep neckline plunged nearly to his navel, just daring enough to tease without crossing into vulgarity. the lower half of his ensemble was a long, fluid skirt that brushed his ankles, swaying effortlessly with each step. around his neck, layers of necklace made from shells, a subtle yet powerful reminder of where he came from.

from your place backstage you could appreciate how finnick's green eyes shone under the spotlights. they also had that lovely glow when he saw you arrive at the back of the stage with your outfit. he wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked but more than that, he wanted to ease the tension he knew was tightening in your chest. he knew better than anyone how uncomfortable these interviews could be, how caesar’s questions often dug too deep, exposing things meant to remain unspoken.

it had been days since you last spoke to finnick—not on camera, not for the capitol, but for yourselves. and now, with the roar of the crowd filling the space between you, it didn’t seem like that silence would break tonight.

you took the moment to let your eyes wander over him when he wasn’t looking. his posture was relaxed, confident, but there was something almost vulnerable in the way he carried himself when he thought no one was watching. but the instant his gaze shifted toward you, you were careful to maintain your composure, keeping your expression unreadable. you didn’t give him even the smallest sign that you had noticed him.

―you look great, ―finnick dared to say, his hands clasped behind his back, the minutes ticking by before he was called onto the stage. he didn't receive an answer from you. you kept your attention fixed on the tributes being interviewed, your face impassive.

now you were backstage, watching him with your arms crossed and with still no expression on your face. the trip had been suffocating, the weight of it all bearing down on you with every passing moment. the capitol had always been a place of cruelty and spectacle, but this time it felt different, more personal.

your attitude hadn't made things easy for fnnick, your mentor mags, not even for yourself. from the instant your names came out through your stay at the tribute's hotel up to that moment, you had been avoiding finnick. mags had tried to bridge the gap, tried to pull you back from the edge, but your anger was like a fire, too fierce to be extinguished. you were pissed off—pissed off at the capitol for forcing you back into the arena with finnick, pissed off at finnick for acting like everything was fine when you both knew it wasn’t, and pissed off at yourself for somehow surviving your first games.

you turned your head when you saw movement, a flash of white fabric. the girl approached you with effie trinket flitted around her, adjusting the layers of the dress with manic precision. you couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

―a wedding dress. of course, ―you pointed out loud enough for the girl to hear you.

you and that girl liked each other. very similar personalities, highly challenging to the capitol, difficult to contain for president snow. you’d crossed paths a few times during training, exchanging glances that said more than words ever could. you wouldn’t call it a friendship, though. not in the traditional sense but there was a certain understanding between you, a shared rebellion against a system that treated you like pawns. you knew she felt it, too.

―snow made me wear it, ―katniss confessed.

you looked up and down at her and nodded.― make him pay for it.

you turned your attention back to the stage.

―finnick, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight.

they both sat and caesar grabbed both FInnick's hands into his own, shaking them. finnick’s smile remained steady, practiced.

―we thought we would never have you back but we're so glad that we get to see you once again. let's show some love to finnick odair, ladies and gentlemen!

the people in the audience applauded and shouted for him again. you didn’t flinch; you didn’t even blink. your eyes remained fixed on finnick. he looked so... relaxed. you couldn’t deny how well he played the part, the charming victor, the adored tribute who could do no wrong in their eyes. he was so good at pretending.

for a moment, it felt like the air itself was thickening around you. the tightness of the dress, the suffocating fabric pulling uncomfortably at your ribs. was it the capitol’s processed, tasteless food? was it the dress that made it hard to breathe? or was it the deeper disgust at seeing finnick so effortlessly slipping into the role they wanted him to play? even knowing he was faking it, it still made you uneasy.

―the pleasure is always mine, caesar.

―finnick, we saw that dramatic reaping day that took place on district 4 and i think i speak for everyone when i say that we lived it very intensely, ―murmurs of agreement swept through the capitol audience. finnick’s lips pressed together as he nodded. ―first, your name comes out, ten years after your first victory, and then her name comes out and we can see how your expression changes completely. look, look at that. ―the images from that day played on the big screens for the people to watch and you had to look away.

you swallowed and tensed your back, all the memories of that day came to your head unwanted. his name. your heart feeling heavy inside your chest. finnick walking to the center of the stage with a smile on his lips. his eyes on you telling you to not worry. your name. gasps from the people of district 4. finnick's jaw clenching. it became difficult for him to breathe. you walking to the center of the stage next to him with no smile on your lips. you shook hands. people clapped for you two.

―are you okay? ―katniss placed her hand on one of your shoulders and you nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing.

―people in district 4 love drama, ―a familiar voice chimed from behind you, cutting through the moment like a sharp knife. the girl in her tree and wood-inspired outfit approached you and katniss with a devilish smile on her lips. ―it's already done, girl. your name came out already and you are here. get yourself together. snow is watching, don't embarrass yourself like this.

the relationship you had with johanna mason was complicated—one moment you could almost call her a friend, and the next, she was pushing you to the edge. finnick, on the other hand, seemed to have mastered the art of dealing with her.

―we have been informed that she has expressly asked not to be here with you tonight, how does that make you feel?

―well, it makes me feel sad, obviously. as everybody knows, she is a very special person to me and i think we could've handled this situation much better together. things have been difficult but i strongly believe we are the best allies, in and out of the arena. the love i have for her keeps me from having any negative feelings about her not wanting to sit with me here tonight, caesar. i just hope that you all can enjoy her later.

―i'm sure we will have the best time with her. she's lovely, very lovely.

people clapped. they loved Finnick. you could see it on their faces every time the boy opened his mouth, how they nodded their heads to everything he said. in a way you were grateful for it, when the time came you knew they would rather save him.

―as you said, she'll be sitting here later and we know she's back there now, probably watching us and waiting for her moment. finnick, is there anything you'd like to say to her?

finnick nodded and acted for a few seconds as if he was looking for the words. as if he hadn't had this planned. ―my love, you have my heart. all eternity. and if i... if i die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.

―oh, finnick! you're going to make our hearts melt! when did you became such a loverboy?

―i've always been, caesar.

they all laughed.

johanna's laughter echoed in the space, mocking sound that you could never quite ignore. you ran your hand over your face, trying to hide the frustration. maybe johanna was right, maybe the people of district 4 really did thrive on drama. and the capitol? they just couldn’t get enough of it. katniss was left speechless, him and his ability to make those things sound natural surprised her. finnick reminded her of peeta.

―forgive me but i must ask because i know people are dying to know. is everything okay between you two? has the quarter quell been the cause of any couple crises?

people in the audience laughed again and so did finnick. he didn't find it funny but laughed anyway which made you angrier.

―no, that has not happened, no. we have had our ups and downs since that day, as you said, there have been a lot of emotions going on. we had plans for the future but we are trying to get through it.

―i'm sorry, finnick, but you can't leave us like this. plans for the future? tell us more about that.

―we were trying for a baby.

that statement hit you like a big wave and swept you breathlessly to the seashore. you heard johanna chuckling and katniss, on the other hand, was as surprised and as confused as you were. people in the audience got up from their seats, demanding more information, asking if there was a wedding planned, and questioning if you were already pregnant.

the world froze around you, the noise from the audience growing distant, muffled, like the roar of the ocean in a storm.

―no, we weren't, ―the words escaped your lips before you even had time to stop them. the two girls beside you turned to look at you, startled by the intensity in your voice. ―no, we weren't! ―you tried to go on stage, angry like the sea during a storm and about to do something foolish that you would regret later and for which mags would tell you off.

johanna was quick to step in front of you to prevent that from happening. effie let out a little scream, seeing the scandal that was being made. ―whoa, easy there

―johanna, move.

she shook her head at you, smirking. that smirk. she knew all along.

―i'm not asking, johanna. move.

johanna, again, shook her head at you.

behind you, effie let out a nervous little laugh,―ladies! let's mind our manners and a let's calm down. please.

―he knows snow is not canceling the games. he's saving you.

―i do not need him to save me. i do not want him to save me. if i have come all this way, it is to save him.

johanna smiled. ―well, he beat you to it.

―what's going on? ―peeta appeared and effie jumped on his neck to fix the white suit he was wearing.

―she's pregnant, ―johanna answered him.

―i'm not!

―congratulations, ―the boy from district 12 told you.

―i'm not pregnant!

the chaos in the audience refused to die down. the capitol loved a scandal, and finnick had just handed them one wrapped in gold and tied with a ribbon. the murmurs had turned into full-blown shouting. you could see caesar lean in towards finnick, whispering something in his ear. whatever was said, finnick didn’t argue. he simply nodded, his face unreadable, and allowed himself to be led toward the back of the stage.

―girl from 4, you're next, ―one of the capitol staff said. his fingers tightened around your arm, already trying to drag you toward the stage as caesar worked to redirect the audience’s attention.

you yanked your arm free with a sharp twist of your body, stepping back before they could grab you again. ―get off of me. i'm not going anywhere.

finnick said goodbye to the audience, his smile faded the moment he stepped off the stage. he knew what was waiting for him there, an even angrier you who would not understand why he had done that. all this time moving around the capitol and with much of your relationship on display for everyone, and you still hadn't learned how to play the real game.

―i'll go for her. i'm ready, ―peeta offered instead of you. the man seemed satisfied and before walking peeta to the stage, he warned you that you would go after the boy from district 12 whether you liked it or you didn't.

finnick walked with his head down. you were no longer interested in Johanna but you were surprised by the way she and finnick shared a look of complicity when he passed by your side. his eyes never landed on you but they did on his friend. you turned around and walked after him. your fists were close, your jaw was tight.

you pushed him by his shoulders, now it was finnick who seemed unbothered. you shoved him again, harder this time, but he barely reacted. he just kept walking, his face unreadable. he was calmed, he did what he thought it needed to be done.

people in the capitol will have mercy on you, you will have plenty of sponsors and you will make it out alive. but you didn't want that. you wanted him to be the last one standing, you had already discussed that with mags. the woman assured you that she'd do anything in her power to get finnick out alive.

―why did you do that to me?! who gave you the right to do that?! finnick i swear to god if you don't speak to me right now!

―oh, now you want to talk, don't you? what happens if now i don't feel like it? would you like that? would you like me ignoring you like you've been doing with me for the past days?

by the way his eyes looked at you and the way he had said it, practically spitting the words in your face, you knew he had been holding it in for days. you shook your head. ―it's not the same.

―oh but it is. trust me. you just don't want to see it. and for your information, it was mags. she gave me the right, ―he turned around and answered your previous question. ―you didn't expect that? did you think you were the only one she made promises to?

you clenched your jaw. you did think that. whatever she'd promised finnick would contradict the promises she had made to you, so she was clearly fooling one of you two. and you knew it wasn't finnick.

―you made me look weak!

―but you're not so why do you care? right now you have more than half of those people in the palm of your hand. you could need the stupidest thing in the arena and they would send it to you without even thinking about it. they will make you the victor.

―i didn't want that! i didn't want that and you don't even care!

―you're right, i don't.

―you bastard, ―you threw yourself against his chest, hitting him with your small hands compared to his body. he was still standing on the spot while you beat him with tears in your eyes out of anger.

―come on, come on, give him a break, ―haymitch, who went backstage to be with katniss when he saw peeta on stage, tried to separate you from finnick by grabbing you around your waist.

―why don't you save all that anger for when we're in the arena? it'll be better.

―finnick! ―effie said, shocked.

―i fucking hate you, ―you mumbled. while Haymitch managed to get you away from finnick, your hands grabbed his shirt, he wasn't going to get off that easy, not after that comment. your body shook against district 12's mentor.

―i could really use a helping hand right now, you know? ―haymitch struggled to hold you. katniss and Johanna freed finnick from your grip and he left. you tried to go after him but obviously, you couldn't do anything against three people. as you continued to fight to free yourself from his grasp, peeta's voice sounded louder over the loudspeakers, getting your attention.

if it weren't for the baby.

you looked at katniss and she looked at you, still trying to process what had just come out of peeta's mouth and trying to find a way of not going into that stage and choke him to death. now you were going to be the one who was going to hold her down.

―qell, congratulations to you two. you are going to be amazing moms if you make it out of this one alive.

[thedaugtherofchrist]

"His love is the light that no darkness can extinguish, and His sacrifice is the bridge that no sin can burn."

[0silver0dreams0]

Love against hatred

Part of my story Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader

When affection turns obsessive, even hatred cannot extinguish love. A lover, consumed by longing, refuses to accept rejection as the end. To him, hatred is not an end but a challenge — a sign that feelings still linger. While the beloved sees betrayal and pain in every glance, the lover envisions a future where their bond is restored. With unwavering devotion, he will stop at nothing to bridge the divide, for in his eyes, love against hatred is still love — and worth any cost.

✦ Jacaerys Velaryon was never one to shy away from his emotions. From the moment he could understand the concept of affection, he had felt drawn to you, his cousin. Your grace, your wit, your strength — they all captivated him, like a moth hopelessly drawn to a flame. As children, your laughter had been his favourite sound, your approval his greatest reward. Yet, as the years passed and tensions between your families deepened, that love turned into an obsession, a need to protect you, to have you near, despite your growing disdain for him.

✧ Jacaerys had always admired your poise and strength. To him, you were the embodiment of everything noble and pure, a light in a world often tainted by ambition and betrayal. When you were children, you had been his confidant, the one person who could make him laugh, who made the burdens of being the heir to the Iron Throne seem lighter. He remembered how you used to smile at him, how you used to hold his hand without hesitation. But those days were long gone.

✦ After the fateful night when Aemond lost his eye, everything changed. The bond that had once united you both was shattered. You blamed his family for the pain inflicted upon your brother, and that blame extended to him. The warmth in your eyes turned to cold indifference, then to outright hatred. Yet, Jacaerys could not bring himself to let you go. If anything, your rejection only fuelled his determination to win you back.

✧ Your hatred hurt him, but it also fascinated him. How could someone so perfect harbour such a fierce, burning loathing? He told himself that it was born from misunderstandings, from the poisoned words of those around you, that Aemond and Alicent were at fault. If only he could make you see his devotion, his unwavering love, you would surely come to love him again.

✦ Jacaerys would watch you from afar, his dark brown eyes lingering on you with a mixture of longing and frustration. He hated the walls you had built between the two of you, but he respected them enough not to tear them down outright. Instead, he sought to find cracks, little moments where he could remind you of what you once shared. A fleeting glance, a stolen conversation, a carefully chosen gift left at your chamber door.

“She hates me,” he would tell himself late at night, lying awake and staring at the ceiling. “But hate is not indifference. At least she still feels something.” It was a twisted comfort, but it kept his hope alive.

✧ In his mind, your hatred was a challenge, a test of his love. He would endure it, weather it, and prove to you that he was worthy. No matter how many times you spurned him, he would not falter. To him, your rejection was not a door slammed shut but a wall to be scaled.

✦ His tendencies manifested in subtle ways. He ensured that no one else could come close to you, quietly sabotaging potential suitors and watching them retreat in confusion. He would find reasons to be near you, orchestrating encounters that seemed coincidental but were anything but. Even in the council chambers or the training yard, his thoughts were never far from you. From a distance, he watched over you, guarding you in ways you never noticed but always ensuring your safety. Rhaenyra, whether knowingly or not, only fed these tendencies. She often spoke of how much he cared for you, how his devotion was proof of his strength as a man and a future king. Her words validated his obsession, turning it from a private torment into something he felt was righteous and inevitable.

✧ Yet, despite his obsession, Jacaerys’ love for you was genuine. He wanted to protect you from the harshness of the world, to shield you from the political machinations that had driven your families apart. He dreamed of a future where you could forgive him, where your laughter would fill the halls of Dragonstone once more.

✦ But for now, he endured your hatred, clinging to the hope that, in time, love would prevail. Even if it meant waiting a lifetime, even if it meant enduring the sharp edges of your scorn, Jacaerys Velaryon would never stop loving you. To him, your love was worth any price, even the pain of your hatred.

Because, in the end, love against hatred was still love — and that was enough to keep him going.

Taglist:

@ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton @hopingtoclearmedschool

[magics-neptunes-things]

Boom Clap (The sound of my heart)

Hi guys!

This is a second one from the world "Lia & The Firefighter" but you don't have to read it before reading this one. They are related but not like a serie, I don't know if it make sense 😂

It was from an ask so I hope you will be happy with this one, dear anon ♥

Please enjoy!

TW : Firefighter job, injury, blood, fire.

Girl on Fire is the other One Shot of the Serie.

Also the hottie on the right picture is @ylenia94riniti on Instagram.

You like to say that you know Lia by heart and that you can understand her moods and her thoughts really quickly. It’s usually right to be honest, she has almost no secrets for you. But it has to be said that the contrary is right too.

You were already working as a firefighter when you met her and by time she learned to know when you have a bad day. Or when you try to hide something to her, like the fact you almost fall of a bridge while rescuing someone. She knows it’s to protect her but sometimes she hates how you can be so selfless about yourself and your health. Because of that, she takes care of you like she could, making you meal or massive sandwiches to take with you when you are working and being sure that you always have everything you want at her home. Of course, you told her that it’s not what matters to you, but she just glares at you and don’t answer anything.

Today started like always. You waked up and went for a run, then took a shower before going to wake Lia up. Then you had your breakfast together and Lia went to training while you were leaving for work. When you are working during the day, that is usually how you organize your day. After work you find each other at your house, or at Lia’s, to enjoy a night together. Or you go to watch Lia play, it depends on the schedule.

You had several interventions during the day, but nothing really surprising. Then, less than one hour before you finish your day, the alarm sound in the fire station and like your colleagues, you take your things and run to the truck.

While they are driving you there, you learn about the situation very little by little. At the end, you understand that the case is a massive fire in a commercial center, but you don’t know how many people are hurt, if you will be needed inside to evacuate people or somewhere in or around the building to fight the fire.

It’s your job anyway and you have to do it. You don’t really like the moment just before the action, it makes you nervous. When you are in, you are focused and do your things. Now, while you are finishing your RedBull, your mind is racing.

“Alright Y/L/N?”

“Yeah” you only answer.

Your Commander smirks softly and pat your arm. He knows you very well, he was the one being your instructor during your first months at the fire station. He’s still the one scolding you when you need to be.

Your mind went to Lia when you look at the clock, only to realize that she must be at the end of her training. You were supposed to have a casual night in, but you know that she won’t pout if you are coming home later. She’s way more comprehensive that you had ever hope.

But you aren’t able to think about your girlfriend for too long. Soon you arrive at the commercial center, and you understand that you didn’t understand how chaotic all of this would be. There are ambulances everywhere, people are running around. There are screams, cry, people calling each other. But you have to ignore all of that to stay focused.

You follow the order of your Commander, going to help where he asks you to. When he asks you to manage a team for him, you do it without a second thought. You help the medical teams when they need to, and you help to extinguish the fire when you are called for it.

“Where does it come from?” you ask-shout your Commander at one point.

“We don’t know for now. They are talking about putting some of us inside to find it.”

You nod before focusing on your team again and continue to work. You have lost any idea of the time since you are here, but it doesn’t matter for now. The sky is way less clear when your Commander comes to you again, grabbing your arm to have your attention.

“They ask me to give my best men to go inside the building and look where the fire comes from” he says to you.

You don’t roll your eyes like you would love to, you hate the fact that they are talking about “men” and not “people” or “firefighter”.

“Understood, Sir” you answer with a straight face.

He smiles softy, understanding very easily what you are thinking. But he doesn’t comment it, choosing to continue what he needs to say to you.

“I told them that you were the best. So you will go inside with a team I’ll manage from outside, with talkie walkie and a camera that you will have on your helmet. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir”

He looks at you for several seconds before nodding.

“Take some minutes to rest inside our truck, cool off, drink some water and eat something. Do something to change your mind. I’m coming in twenty minutes to give you your other uniform.”

“Yes, Sir” you answer once again.

He then makes you sign to go, and you oblige. You are happy to take your uniform off, breathing completely some oxygen without smoke. Like he requests, you drink a bottle of water, eat a banana and cereal bare. You use a little bit of water to wash your face and go to the toilets. Then you try to remember what he asked you to do.

Rest, drink water, eat something, change your mind.

You didn’t change your mind.

Biting your lip, you take your phone and wonder some seconds if it’s really a good idea. But then you decide to ignore your thoughts and press the call button.

It rings three times before Lia picks up.

“Hello?”

You have to clear your voice before talking.

“Hi, Cookie. It’s me.”

“Is everything okay?”

You can hear the concern in her voice. Maybe it wasn’t really a good idea to call her, it was probably selfish of you.

“Yeah hum, I will come late at home, I think. Maybe don’t wait for me and go to bed. Or maybe you can go to Leah?”

“She’s not home tonight, but I’ll be fine by myself, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry for cancelling our night.”

“Don’t, it’s ok, really. I understand Pookie. Of course I would rather being with you, but I’m far from mad, yeah?” she says, her voice softer than ever.

You nod and there is a little silence. You would rather for her to be with someone, you know she will be less worried if she’s with one of her friend. You wonder what Lia is thinking about.

“You promise me that everything is fine?” she asks again.

“Yeah, I… I just wanted to hear your voice”

You can’t see your girlfriend, but you are almost sure that she’s rolling her eyes right now. It makes you smile softly.

“Do you remember the only time when you tried to hide me something?”

“Of course I do” you smile.

Flashback

It was stupid of you. Both wanting to hide your injury and your injury itself. It was at the beginning of your relationship with Lia, you were officially together for four months, even if you started dating for six months now.

When you took the call, you didn’t expect things to go that way, to be honest. It was just a fight between two group of teenagers, nothing you couldn’t handle. It’s one of the first things you learned to manage, so you didn’t really thing twice before going and getting involved in this story.

Still while resting at your place, of course, your superiors are here and you won’t take their job.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” your Commander asks some teenagers.

They probably are like 16 or 17, like your little brother. Even if he is probably at school right now.

You hear several of them talking animatedly to him, explaining what the point in this fight is. You don’t understand a lot to be honest, but it seems to be a fight during two groups on the same neighborhood. When they mention that the other group is hiding somewhere and waiting for them, your Commander sighs.

“Ok, I’ll call the police” he says, before turning in your direction. “Y/L/N, Scott, go have a look around please.”

You nod and follow the instructions, looking behind you to be sure that Scott is following you. He is. You don’t mind being in front of the two when you realize after having waited for him that he doesn’t want to be next to you. You don’t care, even if you don’t know really good this place.

You are scanning the area, trying to learn some things from here when someone shout at you from the other side. It seems to you that the voice comes from the height of a building, and you are looking for it before feeling an awful pain next to your ribs.

Several hours later, you are coming home. You groan when you see that Lia’s car is here, meaning that she is waiting for you inside. You are always thrilled to have her, but not tonight. You however put a big smile on your face when she smiles at you when you enter your house.

“Hi, Beautiful” you great her with a big smile and a kiss on her cheek.

She’s sitting on a stool in your kitchen, and you can see that she cooked something behind her. You keep a straight face when she passes her arms around your waist.

“I made us chicken creamy pasta, is that ok?” she asks, following your gaze.

“It’s perfect. Do you mind if I take a shower before eating?”

“Of course not” she smiles.

You kiss her forehead and her lips several times before going to the bathroom adjoining your bedroom. You close the door softly behind you and immediately let yourself go against the door, relieved not to have to hide your pain anymore.

You quickly get rid of your shirt and went to face the mirror. The cut you received while being stabbed earlier today isn’t very deep, but it still hurt like a bitch. You didn’t want to go to the hospital, you gave yourself the care it needed in your opinion, but maybe some painkiller won’t be a bad idea.

You sigh when you realize that you are bleeding again. Scott saw what happened and call your Commander even if you told him not to. You are ashamed of how you got hurt, to be honest. It was a stupid injury made stupidly by a stupid person.

You wince with pain when you press some compress on your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. You still pressing against it while hiding the bloody bandage who were covering your wound until now, not wanting for Lia to find them. You don’t want to worry her. You must have taken way more time than you thought because soon Lia is knocking on the door.

“Are you ok in here?” Lia asks softly.

“Yeah. I’m coming” you answer, grimacing again while putting another bandage on your body.

You really hope that Lia wasn’t thinking about having some naughty activities tonight.

After that you take a very quick shower and went to your room to put some fresh underwear with a jogging and a black top tank, in case you start bleeding again, you won’t scare your girlfriend to death.

“Sorry I took so long” you excuse yourself to Lia when you meet her again in the kitchen.

You pass your arm around her waist this time, very careful not to touch your injury with her body.

“No worries. Should we eat now?”

You nod, trying to help her dress the table but she’s faster than you are. You roll your eyes playfully but let her do it, happy to see her so at ease in your house. It’s pretty early in your relationship but you are so in love with her. You still feel like you need to be careful with her though, not wanting to scare her. She never seemed to be against your job, but you both decided that you will not talk to her about what you are seeing during your days. At first you thought that it was because she will be maybe disgusted by things, but you realized some weeks before that it was because she is scared for you.

“It’s delicious Babe” you praise her.

You smile when you see her blushing and you grab her hand softly to intervenes your fingers. You ask her about her day and listen to her with attention. You met her friends some time ago and you are able to put a face on every name. You have to admit that you go to watch her play every time you can too.

After the dinner you decided to watch a movie and let Lia chose something. Cuddling with her is usually your favorite moment of the day, but you realize very quickly that you will have trouble to find a good position.

You finally pass your leg on Lia’s, your hand around her stomach and put your face on her shoulder. All of that while she’s sitting with her leg extended on the long part of your L couch.

“Comfy?” she asks.

You nod and don’t see her smile because of your position, but you feel her kiss your head, and you rub your face softly against her hoody. During the movie, you can feel her fingertip drawing the tattoos on your arm and for once you really want for her to keep her arm here. She just has to pass it under your tank and you’re screwed.

“You’re tense, Pookie” she whispers when there only is twenty minutes of the movie.

“Am I?”

You are. You are a ball of nerves and when Lia hums before searching your lips for a kiss it’s even worse. But you kiss her softly, stroking her face with your thumb.

“It just was a long day” you say before kissing her cheek and resume your position.

Lia doesn’t push it, holding your tighter against her. Your injury is pounding and you can’t wait to take another painkiller, stronger this one maybe. You didn’t went to the hospital, so you don’t have any prescriptions. You try to steady your breathing, jaw a little more tense than usual.

It’s a relief when the movie is finished, but you can’t jump on your feet and just run to the bathroom. In fact, the make out session you have with Lia after it almost make you forget your state. Until you see your girlfriend frown softly.

“Why are you wet here?” she frowns, looking at your stomach.

You frown too and automatically put a hand where your wound is. Fuck. Your tank is indeed damp. And when you remove your hand, it’s red.

“Y/N?! What the fuck!”

You don’t know if you are more stunned about the blood or your girlfriend’s dirty word.

Long story short, she takes you to the hospital without you saying anything. She scowled you for almost ten minutes after you saw the doctor and you felt like a little child. But since that moment, you never hide this kind of things to her.

“I’m not lying though, I really just wanted to hear your voice” you point softly.

Lia hums before talking again.

“Are you at the fire station?”

“No”

“Are… Are you at the commercial center?”

“Y/N!”

You jump when you hear your commander’s voice. You turn to see him coming for you. Was it twenty minutes already?

“I have to go, Cookie. See you soon yeah?”

“Yes. Be safe, please?”

“Promise. I love you, Lia.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up and raise your eyes on your commander. He’s smirking at you but doesn’t say anything. He likes Lia a lot, they met several times, and he told you that you couldn’t have found a better match. You are agreeing with him about it. Lia has everything you were looking for.

“You could have said to here I say hi.”

“I will next time, Sir.”

You are smiling softly too. It’s probably the first time since you left the fire station. It finally was a good thing to have call her, you feel a little more focused and calmer. You follow your Chief where you are waited and start to take the instructions. What you have to do is clear in your mind.

You take the lead of the other firefighters and go inside the mall. Everything is blurry and probably hot, but you don’t feel anything thanks to your new uniform.

Following what was told to you, you advance slowly but are looking around for your safety and of course, you have to find where the fire comes from. You don’t see anything for now, the fire is on another level. After sharing this information, you go to the floor above you.

You take some minutes there too, the heath is getting hotter and you are sure that you are getting closer to the source of the problem. There is only the sound of the fire, but it was until a shrill whistle catch your attention.

“Wait. They cutted the gas, right?” you ask around to the four other men who are with you.

“They told us they did” one of them confirms you.

“Please ask for a confirmation. Until you have it, don’t move.”

The man who answered you take his talkie-walkie to exchanged with the team outside while you take the direction of the sound. It really sounds like a gas leak but it’s hard to find the right place with all the other noises around. You are so concentrated that you almost jump out your skin when you hear one of the men calling you.

“Y/L/N we have to get out! They forgot that part of the building!”

At the same time, you find the source of the whistle, and it doesn’t look good.

Shit.

“I’m fine for fuck’s sake, leave me alone!”

You are sitting on a hospital bed, an oxygen mask on your face and two doctors around you, trying to make you hear reason. Your Commander is here too, seeming to have the time of his life.

“Miss, please lie down” one of them says.

You groan in exasperation. You were still inside the building when the explosion happens, but you aren’t hurt. You breathed gas though and that’s why you are here. But you just want to go home.

Your Commander push on your shoulder to make you oblige, what you do before pressing your finger against your eyebrows. You are going to explode too.

“Don’t worry, her girlfriend is coming, she will behave way more better with her around” your Commander says at your doctors with an unmissable amazement in his voice.

“Lia’s coming?” you raise your head.

“The team called her.”

Great. A good new, at last. If they tell you that you have to stay here for the night, you might lose it. In fact, the promise of Lia’s coming is enough for you to cool off a little. You don’t have your phone with you, so you weren’t able to inform her about what happened yourself.

You let the medical team do their job, even if you keep a scold on your face all the process.

Lia arrives several minutes after, knocking softly on the door. She looks worried and you frown. What did your team say to her? She seems relieved to see you sitting on the bed, even if your Commander put a hand on you to keep you from getting up when you try.

“Good evening Lia. I’ll let you alone” he says, smiling warmly at your girlfriend.

Lia greats him back, before turning in your direction when he leaves the room. It’s passed midnight now and she’s usually already asleep. She seems exhausted and worried.

“I’m fine” you say when she reaches you.

Lia doesn’t answer anything, but you can see her scanning every part of your body visible with this awful hospital dress.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shake your head for only answer, adding a “I swear” when she looks at you with skepticism. Your discussion earlier comes back in your mind, and you take her hand in yours before talking again. It’s going to be hard not to tell her everything but still enough for her to stop worrying.

“I breathed some gas and my oxygen level was a little low” you explain. “They wanted me here to be sure that my body was recovering correctly.”

“Wait, were you inside the commercial center?”

You don’t know how she knows that, but after you remember that she might have listened the radio or something while coming to see you. So you just nod and shrug before talking again.

“We were almost outside when it exploded” you admit. “The team forgot to cut the gas where we were but when we learned that we get out as soon and quickly as possible.”

You can see panic in Lia’s eyes and that’s exactly what you don’t want. What if she leaves you because she’s too scared about your job? You won’t recover from this; you would rather explode with a building.

“But you’re fine, yes?” she asks finally.

“I am. I promise, Cookie.”

She nods softly before hugging you. At least. You can feel your body totally relax against hers and you close your eyes, hiding your face in her neck. Her smell, the heath of her body, everything from her is comforting for you.

“Thanks for being careful and coming back to me” she says after several times.

“Every time” you mumble back. “As long as you are not tired of me”

“Never.”

She squeeze you against her and you take advantage of your position to hide your face in her breast, before she kiss your forehead.

You are suddenly very tired, but it has nothing to do with the gas this time. Now that Lia is here, you feel good again. She’s stroking your neck with her fingertips, and you kiss hers several times, smiling softly when you see the goosebumps on her skin.

“I’m so in love with you, Li” you whisper softly.

She slowly and tenderly takes your face between her hands to kiss you tenderly. You kiss her back, of course.

“I love you too, so much” she whispers against your lips before pecking them several more times.

Still smiling, you let her. You would never refuse her a kiss anyway. After that she keeps your face in her hands and look at you closely.

“You look tired. You should probably sleep.”

“Stay with me?”

“Of course.”

In fact, you managed to take her with you in your bed, cuddling against her body with a sigh of relief. Maybe you can stay here after all, if Lia is here.

[novaursa]

hello

Can I have a fem!twin sister Jace, Where she always knew that Hardin was her father and she really loved him, but Daemon kinda take her as her heir and daughter.

She got engaged to Aemond but after Lucerys death they cancel it and during the war she don’t know what side choose. She really love her « husband » but her loyalty goes to the black (maybe because of daemon)

She ride Cannibal and goes to the battle of rooks rest but Aemond and Vhagar can’t attack her.

Idk how you can end it but I’m sure you can do it 🫶🏼♥️

Cursed in Flames

- Summary: You face Aemond at Rook’s Rest. And Dance of the Dragons is never the same again.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 3 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The news reaches you like a shadow across the sea, darkening the horizon of your mind with its terrible weight. You are standing on the cliffs of Dragonstone, watching the waves crash against the rocks far below, when you hear Daemon's footsteps approach. The air is filled with the scent of salt and storm, and the sky above is a heavy gray, mirroring the turmoil in your heart.

You do not turn to look at him immediately, sensing the gravity of what he is about to say. You have always known Daemon’s stride—deliberate, commanding, yet with a subtle grace that betrays his Targaryen blood. It is the same stride he had when he came to you as a child, kneeling before you and whispering tales of dragonfire and ancient Valyria, the stories that shaped your dreams and nightmares alike. But this time, there is something else, a tension in his movements that you have rarely seen, a tension that makes your heart clench in your chest.

"Your brother," Daemon begins, his voice as cold as the wind that whips around you, "is dead."

The words slice through you, sharper than any blade, and you feel the ground beneath you sway as though it, too, has been struck. For a moment, the world stops. The roaring of the waves, the howling of the wind, all of it fades into a deafening silence that drowns you. The image of Luke—sweet, gentle Luke—flashes before your eyes. His bright smile, his laughter that could fill even the darkest of days with light, now extinguished.

You finally turn to Daemon, your eyes wide with disbelief, as if willing him to say it is a mistake, a cruel jest. But Daemon’s face is set in stone, his violet eyes hard and unreadable.

"Aemond," he continues, his voice dropping to a low growl, "killed him. Vhagar devoured Arrax. There was nothing left."

A gasp escapes your lips, and your knees threaten to buckle. The storm inside you breaks free, a torrent of emotions—grief, rage, betrayal—rushing through you all at once. You clutch your chest, as if trying to hold your heart together, but it is no use. The pieces are already shattered, scattered to the winds.

"Aemond," you whisper, the name a curse and a lament all at once. The man you were once betrothed to, the man who had once held your hand in a secret alcove of the Red Keep, who had once whispered words of love and promises of the future—he is now a stranger, a monster. How could he? The question rings in your mind, but there is no answer, only the hollow echo of your heartbreak.

Daemon watches you carefully, his expression unyielding. He has never been one for softness, not even with you, his niece whom he raised as his own daughter. But there is something in his gaze now, a flicker of something almost akin to sorrow. He steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, steadying.

"This engagement is null," he states, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Aemond is no longer your betrothed. He is an enemy of our house, an enemy of yours."

You nod, though your mind is barely able to comprehend the words. The engagement had meant something once, a bridge between the two branches of your family, a hope for peace. But that hope has been dashed upon the rocks like a ship in a storm. There is nothing left but the wreckage.

"He was once... everything to me," you confess, your voice trembling. "How could he do this, Daemon? How could he kill Luke?"

Daemon's eyes narrow, a flash of fire in their depths. "Aemond is a creature of rage and pride, blinded by the lust for power and vengeance. He cares for nothing but his own glory, his own twisted sense of honor. Whatever feelings you thought he had for you, whatever feelings you had for him, they are ash now."

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the sob that threatens to escape. But it is futile. The tears spill over, hot and bitter. Daemon pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms a cage of protection and power. He has never been one to coddle you, but in this moment, he offers you the only comfort he knows how to give—his strength, his presence.

"We will make them pay, all of them," Daemon murmurs into your hair, his voice dark with promise. "For Luke, for our family. This war will not end until the debt is paid in full."

You nod against his chest, the pain in your heart hardening into something colder, sharper. Aemond’s face lingers in your mind, the way he looked at you when you were children, the way his eyes darkened with something more when you were older. But that is all it is now—a memory, a ghost of a past that no longer exists.

You pull back from Daemon, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. Your heart still aches, but there is a new resolve in you, a determination to survive this, to fight for your family, for Luke.

“I will not forget,” you say quietly, your voice steady now. “But I will not let it destroy me, either.”

Daemon nods, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. “Good. We Targaryens are made of fire and blood. Remember that.”

As you stand there, the wind whipping through your hair, you let the words sink in. Fire and blood. That is what you are, what you have always been. The storm may rage on, but you will not be broken by it.

Cannibal’s distant roar echoes through the skies, and you lift your chin, feeling the fire within you begin to burn anew. Aemond may have taken Luke, but he has not taken your will, your strength. You will rise from these ashes, stronger than before. And when the time comes, you will face him—Aemond, the man who was once your betrothed, now your enemy—and you will show him what it truly means to be a Targaryen.

The wind bites at your face as Cannibal’s wings slice through the cold air. You’ve always felt most alive in these moments—when you are at one with the beast beneath you, the two of you merging into a single entity of power and purpose. You are no longer just the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra and the secret of Harwin Strong; you are a force of nature, the rider of the wildest and most feared of dragons. Cannibal roars, a sound that shakes the sky, and you cannot help but feel a grim satisfaction as you see Rook’s Rest below, knowing what is about to unfold.

Aemond Targaryen waits, hidden in the clouds atop Vhagar, the ancient dragon’s formidable presence a weight on the horizon. Aegon is beside him, perched on Sunfyre, whose golden scales glitter like a false promise in the pale daylight. They expect Melys, Rhaenys's scarlet queen, but what they get is something far more dangerous. Something personal.

Your heart beats a war drum’s rhythm in your chest as you approach, hidden by the sun behind you. They don’t see you coming, not at first. And when they do, it’s not Aegon who reacts but Aemond—his shock visible even from the distance. You can imagine his single eye widening, his lips parting in disbelief.

"It cannot be…" he breathes, low enough that only Vhagar might hear him. His thoughts spin in confusion and regret, the memories of what you once were to him clashing with the reality of the battle about to unfold. He’d thought you were lost to him, that the broken engagement was a final, irreparable severing of your fates. But now, here you are, as fierce and untamable as the dragon you ride.

Cole signals Aegon, and the elder brother does not hesitate. Aegon gives Sunfyre his head, and the golden dragon surges forward with all the arrogance and bravado his rider commands. The roar that splits the sky is not just from the dragon, but from Aegon himself, taunting, dismissive.

"Come to burn, have you?" Aegon shouts over the wind. "You’ll find this fire too hot!"

But you don’t respond with words. Cannibal lets loose a torrent of flame, a blackened blaze that reeks of burnt flesh and bones long devoured. The sky darkens with the ash of it, and Aegon’s confidence flickers like a candle in a storm. You feel the heat radiating off your dragon, the primal joy of the hunt thrumming through your bond.

Aemond watches, frozen in place. "Aegon, no!" he shouts, but his voice is swallowed by the roar of dragons and the rush of wind. He can only watch as the two dragons clash.

Cannibal is a creature of nightmares, his blackened scales absorbing the light, making him seem as though he is forged from shadow itself. He dives at Sunfyre with feral speed, his jaws snapping inches from Aegon’s arm. Sunfyre counters with a blast of flame, but Cannibal’s agility is unmatched. He twists in the air, dodging the fire as if it were a mere inconvenience.

Sunfyre is beautiful, a dragon that could have inspired a thousand songs. But beauty is no match for brutality. Cannibal rips into Sunfyre with a savagery that leaves you breathless, his claws tearing through the golden dragon’s wing, nearly severing it from his body. Aegon’s scream echoes in the heavens as he struggles to keep control, the pain of his dragon searing through their bond.

"Aegon!" Aemond roars again, urging Vhagar to move, but his dragon hesitates, sensing his rider’s turmoil. Vhagar is the mightiest of dragons, older than the rest, her wisdom far beyond Aemond’s years. She feels his conflict, the war inside him, and it makes her pause.

You see Aemond’s struggle, the way his grip tightens on Vhagar’s reins, the way his gaze locks onto you even as his brother is mauled in the sky. For a moment, you wonder if he will join the fray, if he will strike you down as he did Luke. But then his eye meets yours, and you see something unexpected—fear, not of you, but for you. The realization sends a cold shiver down your spine, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Cannibal snaps his jaws around Sunfyre’s neck, dragging the dragon down toward the ground. They crash through the trees, Sunfyre’s scream a thing of agony as he thrashes, desperately trying to free himself from the relentless assault. Cannibal’s fire ignites the forest below, turning the world into a hellscape of flame and shadow. Sunfyre’s golden scales are marred with blood and soot, his body a broken thing beneath the ferocity of your dragon.

Aemond watches in horror, his mind torn between duty and something far more dangerous—his heart. "Vhagar," he murmurs, "we have to stop this…"

But Vhagar, ancient and wise, does not attack. She circles above, watching, waiting. She feels the bond between her rider and the girl who should have been his wife, and she knows this is a battle not just of dragons, but of souls.

Finally, with a roar that shakes the heavens, Vhagar descends. Her massive form blots out the sun as she lands, the earth trembling beneath her weight. She crashes into Cannibal with all the force of a falling star, but she does not strike to kill. Instead, she pins Cannibal beneath her, her jaws snapping inches from his throat. The wild dragon thrashes, but Vhagar’s strength is unmatched. She holds him there, a warning, not a death sentence.

You feel Cannibal’s fury, his frustration, but also his grudging respect for the older dragon. The battle is over, for now. You sense Aemond’s hesitation, the war raging within him as he prepares to dismount.

But he doesn’t move, not yet. He looks down at you, at the girl he once loved, the girl he might still love, and his world tilts on its axis.

For the first time since the Dance began, Aemond Targaryen does not know what to do. And as Vhagar holds Cannibal pinned beneath her, you both realize that this battle was never just about dragons.

It was always about you.

And it always will be.

The ground rushes up to meet you as you leap from Cannibal’s saddle. The impact is brutal, a shockwave of pain that ripples through your body as you hit the earth with a resounding thud. The air is forced from your lungs, and for a terrifying moment, you can’t breathe. You gasp, struggling to draw in even a sliver of air, your vision darkening at the edges. But you force yourself to move, to push through the pain. You cannot afford to be weak now, not with him approaching.

Aemond’s boots crunch on the scorched ground as he strides toward you, his expression unreadable. You see him through a haze of pain, your vision slowly clearing as your breath comes in ragged gasps. Instinctively, you push yourself up, your muscles screaming in protest, but you will not be caught helpless. Not by him. 

Before you can fully regain your footing, Aemond’s arms are around you, capturing you in a firm, unyielding embrace. His chest presses against your back, his grip like iron as you struggle against him. The more you thrash, the tighter his hold becomes, but he doesn’t hurt you. His voice, when it comes, is a low, soothing murmur in High Valyrian, a language that wraps around you like a soft cloak.

"Beloved, be still in my arms," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Calm down." 

The words are tender, almost loving, and they cut through your panic like a knife. His grip doesn’t loosen, but it no longer feels like a prison. Instead, it’s a strange comfort, his presence grounding you as your breath slowly returns to normal. The fight drains from your limbs, leaving only the exhaustion and the ache of what’s just happened.

When you finally stop resisting, Aemond’s grip eases, and he gently turns you to face him. You expect anger, fury even, for what you’ve done to his brother. But as you look into his eye, you find something else entirely—uncertainty. He stares at you as if you’re a puzzle he cannot solve, his usual confidence shaken.

"Aegon…" His voice is rougher now, tinged with something that almost sounds like regret. "You just struck down the King."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of what they mean. Aegon Targaryen, the King, your uncle—his blood is on your hands now, as much as Cannibal’s. But you feel no guilt, only a cold, burning anger that flares to life at Aemond’s accusation.

"Like you killed Luke," you snap back, your voice laced with venom. The shadow of your father, Daemon, looms large in that moment, his defiance, his unyielding spirit echoing in your words. "You think I care for your brother’s crown when you stole my brother’s life?"

Aemond’s lips twitch, the barest hint of a smile forming as he watches you, admiring the fire in your eyes. It’s as though he expected this from you, and it pleases him to see you still have that flame burning within. He takes a step closer, his expression softening into something dangerously close to affection.

"Always so fierce," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a tone that is meant for you alone. "Just as I remember. Just as you’ve always been."

You can’t decide whether to move away or to stay rooted to the spot. His presence is overwhelming, intoxicating, and despite everything, a part of you aches for the connection you once shared. Before the bloodshed, before the war tore you apart. But the uncertainty gnaws at you, and you remain still as he reaches out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Even now, I find myself drawn to you," he admits, his tone almost wistful. "Your strength, your fire... It’s what made me want you then, and what makes me want you now."

His words lull you, and despite yourself, you feel the tension in your body begin to ease. There is something in his voice, something genuine, that pulls at the frayed edges of your heart. But before you can fully comprehend what is happening, a shout cuts through the moment.

"My Prince!" Ser Criston Cole’s voice is sharp, commanding as he approaches. His armor is still bloodied from the skirmish, his face set in a stern mask. "Seize her! She is an enemy, a traitor to the crown!"

Aemond stiffens, the tender moment evaporating like mist in the sun. He turns to face Cole, his expression darkening as he steps protectively in front of you. 

"I will do no such thing," Aemond says coldly, his voice hard as steel. "She is mine."

Cole looks shocked, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Prince Aemond, this is treason. The girl—"

"Is to be my wife," Aemond cuts him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We will wed in the tradition of Old Valyria. She will be my queen."

Cole’s face pales, his eyes darting between you and Aemond as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. "This is madness," he insists, his voice rising with urgency. "The council will never accept it. The people—"

"The people," Aemond snaps, his patience wearing thin, "will accept what I tell them to accept. And if they do not, they will burn for their defiance. As will anyone who dares stand between me and her."

The threat is clear, and Cole flinches, realizing the seriousness in Aemond’s tone. He knows better than to challenge a dragon when its fire is so close to the surface. But still, he tries once more, his voice lowering in an attempt to reason with his prince.

"Think of the consequences, my prince," Cole urges, almost pleading now. "This could tear the realm apart."

Aemond’s gaze never wavers as he replies, his voice chillingly calm. "The realm is already torn apart. If it must burn, then it will burn with us as its rulers."

You watch the exchange with a mix of awe and dread. Aemond’s declaration sends a shiver down your spine, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. He’s serious—deadly serious. And in that moment, you realize there’s no escaping the path that has been set for you.

Aemond turns back to you, his expression softening once more as he reaches out to take your hand. His grip is firm, but not forceful, as though he’s offering you a choice, even if you both know that choice was taken from you the moment you leapt from Cannibal’s saddle.

"Come," he says softly, his voice a stark contrast to the fury he directed at Cole. "Let us finish what was started so long ago."

You look up into his eye, searching for some hint of deception, some sign that this is all a cruel trick. But all you find is resolve—and something else, something that looks very much like hope.

Before you can answer, Vhagar releases Cannibal, the great dragon rising from her position with a low, rumbling growl. Cannibal stirs, but he does not attack. Instead, he rises slowly, his eyes locked on Vhagar as he acknowledges her strength, if not her dominance. There’s a truce in the air, fragile as gossamer, but for now, it holds.

Aemond squeezes your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. "Together," he murmurs, his voice filled with a dangerous promise. "As it was always meant to be."

And as you stand there, caught between what was and what will be, you realize that there is no turning back. Not for you, not for Aemond, not for the realm. The dance is far from over, and now, it will be danced to a different tune—a tune of fire and blood, of love and hate, of destiny and defiance.

And you will dance it with him, until the very end.