#her son was murdered so that she would be more desirable to men like him! this scene should not be about ketil's pain!

[kareenvorbarra]

hmmmmm ketil anime backstory bad

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag II (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

~

“Why was JJ even trying to give you some drink, anyway?”

You resisted the urge to sigh, anticipating such a question the moment the topic had swung back around to the party from last week. You kept your gaze on your lip gloss, dipping it once then twice before looking up into the mirror. You could hear Rafe pause in his movements, no doubt waiting for an answer, and this time you finally did heave a breath.

“I don’t know, Rafe. I told you this,” you said to him, turning to look at him as he sat on the edge of his bed.

You watched him study you, that blue gaze of his oh so unnerving, and you weren’t the least bit relieved when he simply hummed.

“I know,” he finally replied, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “…but I have a right to wonder. Especially since you’ve never spoken to him a day in your life before that night.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to swipe the sticky product over your lips, recalling that it was one of Rafe’s favorite shades. The conversation had the potential to slip into dangerous territory, derailing your entire night, and you mulled over your next words carefully.

“He was probably just trying to get a rise out of you,” you honestly murmured, looking at your boyfriend. “…and it worked.”

You merely shrugged at him as he scoffed.

“I mean, he’s way more familiar with you than me. Probably just wanted to piss you off.”

You turned the light off in his bathroom, making your way towards your shoes as you desperately hoped this conversation would come to an end soon. The topic of other men was one that rarely ended nonviolently, and you didn’t know how Rafe got it into his head that the antics of JJ Maybank had anything to do with you when everyone on this entire island knew how much they hated each other. A year ago, you barely even knew the other blonde’s name.

“Well, it worked,” Rafe confessed, coming over to help you put on your other shoe. “You’re too good to even be talking to trash like that, so yeah. It pissed me off.”

At the look on your face, Rafe continued, shaking his head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you really don’t need to go around feeling sorry for guys like that. He’s not the down on his luck kid you think he is,” he advised, pulling you to your feet. “Him and all of Sarah’s little buddies are nothing but trouble.”

Rafe took his time telling you this, making sure you heard every word, and you only felt compelled to nod as he placed a brief kiss on your lips. Rafe swiped up your purse for you as he pulled you out of the room. You felt safer with Rafe in his house than you did in your own, but Ward’s careful eye on his son had never been foolproof. There’d been plenty of times Rafe gave you a sprained wrist or bruised jaw in his very own bedroom.

It's just that in his desire to be more careful within the Cameron household, he sometimes decided that it wasn’t even worth it.

“Where are you two off to?” Sarah wondered as you came face to face with her in the living room.

You hadn’t even known she was home, and when it became clear that Rafe wasn’t going to answer her, you did.

“To a movie.”

The smile you sent her was small, and she reluctantly returned it before settling her gaze on her brother. You didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed, lips pursing a tad. They never got along, but considering recent events, you knew what this particular disagreement was about to be about.

“JJ’s nose is still pretty messed up, you know.”

At that, Rafe did finally acknowledge her, stopping to face her with a challenging look you knew all too well. He tilted his head to the side, one brow raised.

“That sounds like something that isn’t my problem,” he shrugged, and you softly told him that you needed to go in an attempt to avoid whatever this was, but he ignored you.

“God, you’re such an asshole, you know that? JJ just offered your girlfriend a drink and so you broke his nose? Yeah, ‘cause that makes sense,” Sarah murmured, shaking her head as she looked back down at her phone.

You squeezed Rafe’s arm, but he merely sneered at his sister.

“JJ’s a little shit who likes to look for trouble wherever he goes. Not my fault he found it,” Rafe spat, pulling you along before Sarah could reply.

His quiet disposition and tight grip on your hand told you how annoyed he was at Sarah’s reminder of JJ and that night, and you mentally wondered if this was going to be a little thing or something that affected your whole night. Maybe even the next one too. He said nothing when he helped you into his truck, and so you were unsurprised that he was quiet his whole way to the movie too.

You were thankful this was the date of choice because it was easier to ignore Rafe’s mood when your eyes were glued to the screen. In fact, there were moments you forgot he was even there, giggling to whatever was going on in front of you. Once the movie was over, however, Rafe’s uncharacteristic silence was hard to ignore.

Knowing that you’d regret it, you finally spoke up when you made it back to his truck.

“I feel like you’re mad at me for some reason.”

It sounded silly to your ears, but then again, you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, and as little sense as it made, you had the sneaking suspicion that he put some blame with you somehow.

“Not mad,” he murmured, and you simply looked at him.

His gaze and the tightness in his jaw said otherwise, and despite his evident annoyance, he still claimed otherwise. He was silent as he opened your door—his irritation growing the longer you stared at him—and when he blinked, straightening, you finally slid inside. You weren’t surprised to have the door slammed in your face, and you could only sigh when he joined you.

The first few minutes of the drive were as quiet as before, but when Rafe finally cracked, you could only close your eyes.

“Why did you even want to go that night, anyway?” he bitterly chuckled.

You turned to look out of the window with a defeated heave of your shoulders, swallowing.

“You’ve never wanted to go before, and even then, some bonfire on the beach isn’t your thing. You go to house parties with pools and prissy bitches who don’t want to get their hair wet,” he sneered, making you look at him. “Yeah, JJ might’ve wanted to piss me off, but it was you he chose to do it through.”

“So…what…? It’s my fault? I should’ve never gone with you, is that what you’re saying?”

You frowned at him when he glanced at you, dirty blond hair kissing his forehead, and Rafe’s silence spoke volumes. Against your will, you felt your throat tightening, and you were unsurprised when tears kissed your eyes. You hated crying in front of Rafe.

“I just wanted to go, Rafe. I’d never been, and…it’s not like I have any friends to go with anymore. Would you have rather I’d gone alone?”

“Don’t be cute,” he threw at you, tossing you a scathing look. “You wouldn’t even get the chance to try.”

You huffed, looking away from him as he continued, watching the trees fly by.

“Besides, I thought we both agreed that your friends were catty airheads who you didn’t need to be around,” Rafe firmly said. “You have better friends, now.”

“Those are your friends,” you sighed. “…and I know because they barely talk to me. I’m just your girlfriend who’s supposed to stand there and look pretty.”

Those last words came out in a murmur, but Rafe heard them loud and clear.

“You’d have nothing to complain about if you didn’t ask to go in the first place.”

His words made your frown deepen, and despite what you wanted, a few tears escaped. You looked at him in disbelief, although, you didn’t know why. You should’ve been perfectly used to the words that came out of his mouth, sometimes, now.

“What am I supposed to do, Rafe?” you cried. “Just sit in my room, twiddling my thumbs until you come back?”

When he looked at you, he rolled those blue eyes of his, a scoff leaving his perfect lips.

“I don’t have time for the antics, tonight,” he breathed.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“You started it,” you pointed out.

You knew that you were already on thin ice, you could tell, but when Rafe cut his eyes back to you, your heart skipped a beat. You watched your boyfriend swipe his tongue between his lips, slowly nodding as he looked back at the road.

“Okay…” the truck started to slow as he inhaled. “Yeah, okay.”

You felt the hairs on your arms stand on end as he stopped in the middle of the road. It was late, so it wasn’t like the roads of Kildare County were littered with traffic, but it still made you nervous, nonetheless. You watched Rafe turn the truck off, and before you could say anything he was looking at you.

“Get out.”

His words made you blink, lips parting before snapping them shut.

“…what?”

One of Rafe’s arms leaned on the steering wheel while his other hand rested behind your headrest. Even in the darkness, there was a glint in his eyes that told you he was completely serious despite the insanity of the request. The atmosphere in the truck felt so tense—thick with it—and you pulled your lip between your teeth when Rafe leaned in, gaze cold and mocking.

“You said I started it? Well, now I’m finishing it. Get the fuck out of my truck,” Rafe quietly spat at you, making you flinch.

An incredulous bark of a laugh escaped you.

“Rafe, it’s the middle of the night, are you crazy?”

At your refusal to do what he asked, he merely turned away, opening his door. Your heart fell to your stomach as you watched him hurry to your side, yanking the door open and proceeding to yank you too.

“Rafe! What the hell-?”

Your words were cut off as you were forced to stumble out of the vehicle and into the road—without your purse. When he roughly shoved you away, you tripped over your own feet, hissing in pain as you barely caught yourself on your hands. Rafe was already back in his truck by the time you pushed yourself to your feet, and in shock, you watched him start it up. You’d only just reached the handle of the door when he sped off, and you screamed his name after him in a mix of fear and anger.

You couldn’t even really focus on the knowledge that you were in the middle of an empty stretch of road in the middle of the night. You were too angry and annoyed to, and with a sob, you pressed your face into your hands. You sniffed, wiping your face before wrapping your arms around yourself and looking around.

You knew that trying to go toe to toe with Rafe even just a little could prove to be disastrous. You just desperately wanted him to understand that all you had was him. With no friends and no social life outside of him, Rafe was all you had, and you weren’t the bad guy for simply wanting to go to a party with him. You knew he knew this though, so you didn’t even know why you bothered, but you just hated to be blamed for something JJ Maybank did solely because he and Rafe hated each other.

You were merely a tool in the incident.

Rafe was so childish sometimes, so this little display of anger shouldn’t have surprised you. Even still, your nerves were on end as you started to walk down the road. Like you’d thought earlier, there was no traffic in sight, and truthfully, nothing in Outer Banks was that far from anything else, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

You wiped your face again, but fresh tears just fell.

It was cold, and while your jacket kept you from shaking, this still wasn’t the kind of weather to be walking down the street in. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, debating with yourself if you wanted to just keep walking towards your house or try your chances with getting sympathy from some stranger. You knew what Rafe would prefer—and you knew what was statistically safer—but something in you wanted to piss him off further.

After all, he was the one who threw a tantrum and put you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Something in you was desperate to teach him a lesson, and you genuinely wondered what Rafe would do if you just…never came home. You wanted to see the look on his face when your parents called him asking if he’d seen you. However, something in you told you that he wouldn’t be as stricken as you’d think.

This was the same man who threatened to kill you on several occasions.

…but that was different.

That had always been when you tried to leave or even made him think you would leave. That was always said as a promise to make you stay, and even worse, that was when your demise would be at his hands. Rafe wouldn’t get the same satisfaction from leaving you to the mercy of the elements and strangers in the middle of the night.

You were just wiping more tears away when you could see headlights coming from the other end of the road. You weren’t on that side, so you weren’t all that concerned, and despite your earlier bleak thoughts, you actually didn’t relish getting in some stranger’s car and hoping he was honest enough to just take you where you needed to go.

However, your heart did sink a little when it became clear the vehicle was slowing down.

…but your worry morphed into irritation when you recognized the truck.

Rolling your eyes, you merely kept walking as Rafe slowed down enough to have a conversation with you. Or at least attempt to, anyway. You didn’t look at him, swallowing and keeping your tearful eyes straight ahead as you walked.

“Baby, get in the truck.”

“Why?” you wondered with a shrug. “You’re the one who kicked me out.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you heard him mumble. “Y/N, get in the truck.”

Against your better judgement, you ignored him, and Rafe stopped reversing to put the vehicle in park. You picked up your pace when you heard his door open, but Rafe was faster, and you could only attempt to pull away when he roughly grabbed your arm. Yanking you towards him, Rafe didn’t hesitate to push you against the side of the truck, making you wince.

His hold was so tight on your arm, and you shrank away from him when he pressed his nose to yours. His chest and shoulders were heaving, so you knew that he was beyond annoyed, now, but the stubborn part of you that reared its ugly head sometimes only stared back at him with trembling lips.

“I really don’t have time for this, tonight,” he whispered. “Get in the fucking truck, so we can go home.”

“You kicked me out! You go home…and I’ll just walk,” you tearfully spat, attempting to get out of his hold. “It’s what you wanted, anyway.”

Rafe’s impatience was bleeding through as you tried to get past him. One of his arms secured itself around your waist, the other gripping your arm as you attempted to grab that one. You were a mess of limbs and tears as you begged him to let go of you, Rafe’s low voice telling you to get it together.

You weren’t surprised when you found yourself harshly thrown to the ground.

You cried out when your chin bounced off of the pavement, unable to stop your fast descent in time. You heard Rafe curse from above you as a loud sob escaped, and you reached up to touch your chin, attempting to push yourself up. Rafe—in his haste—beat you to it though, grabbing you and forcing you to your feet. You could feel wetness on your chin as he forced you to the passenger side, quite literally shoving you into the truck.

You flinched when he slammed the door shut, tearful gaze focused on the glove compartment as he angrily joined you. When he told you to put on your seatbelt, you reluctantly did with trembling fingers, a choked cough escaping as you tried to stop crying. You couldn’t.

Rafe didn’t say a word to you the whole way back to his house, but you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. He didn’t turn on the radio, the only sound in the vehicle was that of your harsh wails. When he finally did stop in his yard, you both sat there for some time before a long sigh reached your ears.

“You know how I get,” you eventually heard him say. “You know I wouldn’t just…leave you out there.”

You didn’t say anything because you had nothing to say. You heard him shift, and you flinched again when the tips of his fingers grazed your face, his other hand coming up to gently take your chin. Turning you to face him, you watched his blue eyes roam over your face, taking in your tearful cheeks and bloody chin.

“I’m sorry.”

Not only was it something you’d heard a million times before, but you also knew that it was solely in reference to your face. Rafe wasn’t apologizing for kicking you out on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Why would he apologize for that when he felt that was justified? When you said nothing in response, he opted for getting out, and when he opened your door, you hesitated before taking his offered hand.

Once you were standing before him, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against him. You felt him press his lips into your hair, deeply inhaling. He quietly apologized again, and his words hung in the air as you knew what he wanted. Sniffling, you nodded.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It was an accident.”

It wasn’t…because even if Rafe hadn’t explicitly tried to make you bleed, he had intended to hurt you. In these moments, in the aftermath of whatever else Rafe did, it was so easy to think to yourself that you’d leave him. It was almost too easy to hype yourself up, but then you’d think about how it felt to be on the receiving end of that emotionless stare, dead eyes gazing back at you. You’d think about the fear you’d feel whenever his hand was round your neck.

…or the feel of the barrel of a gun in your mouth.

It was so easy until you remembered that Rafe would actually kill you, and you’d learned a long time ago that Rafe wasn’t one to bluff.

You were making something to eat when you heard someone coming down the stairs, and when you glanced up, you weren’t surprised to make eye contact with Sarah. You knew she was home, and you’d heard her friends downstairs not too long ago. You surmised that they were outside waiting for her judging by her state of undress.

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little startled to see you. “I didn’t know you were still here. Where’s Rafe?”

She glanced towards the stairs, and you confirmed her suspicions that he was indeed gone.

“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper.”

You gave her a shrug, answering her silent question.

“I didn’t really feel like going.”

It wasn’t a lie, but you also knew that even if you did feel like going, it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. The last time you went to the country club with Rafe, it didn’t exactly end the best. Running into some of his more casual friends had apparently sparked a conversation that you unfortunately bore the brunt of. It amazed you, really, how Rafe wanted both an attractive girlfriend his friends could envy him for while also losing his mind if said friends dared to say it.

“Oh,” she said again, a little more dejected this time.

Your attention was focused on your food, so you didn’t even realize Sarah was still lingering about until she spoke again.

“We’re going to the beach,” she suddenly blurted out, and you’d guessed as much at the sight of her bikini top. “You should come with us.”

At that you paused, giving her a questionable look that conveyed exactly what you were thinking. Sarah sighed, dropping her bag to the floor before nearing you with a roll of her eyes.

“I know that we’re not friends,” she slowly started, scrunching her face. “…but you’ve been dating my brother for like, what, two years?”

You glanced down at that.

“…and…I know it’s not my place, but you just seem lonely sometimes,” she hurried to continue when your gaze met hers. “I mean, I never really see you do anything that doesn’t involve Rafe. At least, not anymore.”

You swallowed at that.

“Come on, he’s at the stupid country club with his friends, and you’re just waiting for him to get back. Surely, you can’t like that.”

Sarah was more right than she knew, but you swallowed that down.

“I told you, Sarah, I didn’t want to go. I’m fine just hanging out here. I like being at your house,” you chuckled.

Sarah looked like she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. However, she did eye you though with a look you couldn’t place, and you sent her a reassuring smile as you grabbed your plate.

“You guys have fun,” you encouraged, touching her arm on your way past her.

You wondered how pathetic you’d become if your boyfriend’s younger sister was extending a hesitant offer of friendship. Granted, it wasn’t like she was outside your age group or anything, because she wasn’t, but the other circumstances surrounding your relationship just made it seem sad on your end. Your boyfriend’s little sister wanted to make up for how her brother treated you, and it was laughable in the worst way.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the hallway bathroom door opening, and you sharply inhaled as you almost quite literally ran into the last person you ever expected to see in the Cameron household. Now, you understood why Sarah had been worriedly eyeing the stairs as she asked if Rafe was home.

JJ Maybank looked just as startled to see you, but he recovered quicker than you did.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, breaking eye contact and moving to get past him.

You slowed when you recalled your brief glance at his face, guilt eating at you at the bruising that was still faint around the area of his nose. Briefly pressing your fingers to your forehead, you turned around, a little shocked to find the blond already staring at you. That discovery gave you pause, but you quickly pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

You watched him raise his brows at you, but JJ otherwise said nothing, and so you elaborated.

“About your nose,” you told him, and JJ nodded in understanding. “Sure, you were being…a bit of a jerk, but Rafe shouldn’t have done that.”

At your words, you watched something flicker over his features, and the corner of his lips curved upwards just enough to be noticeable.

“You thought I was being an asshole,” he pointed out, and you snorted.

“I didn’t say that-.”

“…but it’s what you meant,” he slowly interrupted, stepping towards you.

You took note of the action, frowning a bit before glancing away.

You knew that Rafe would throw you down the stairs for even looking at JJ Maybank, let alone having a full-blown conversation with him, but the polite manner in which you’d been raised wouldn’t let you walk by the guy without saying anything in reference to Rafe’s behavior that night. Choosing to let the conversation die, you sighed.

“I just wanted to apologize for how he acted. That’s all.”

You gave him a strained smile before turning away, pausing when he spoke.

“You know, your boyfriend’s a bit of an asshole too.”

You tensed for half a second before turning to face him, stomach twisting at that mocking curve to his lips. Blinking, you wondered how to respond to that.

“That’s your opinion.”

“One you agree with,” he argued with a slow smile, studying your face as he pulled his lip between his teeth. “I can tell. You think he’s an asshole too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be apologizing on his behalf.”

Maybe it was because Rafe took JJ’s actions that night out on you, but you actually felt yourself getting irritated.

“I wouldn’t have to apologize for anything if you hadn’t been trying to provoke him. We all know what he’s like, and you two don’t exactly have the best history,” you shrugged.

The other man didn’t respond right away, simply leaning against the wall with one hand shoved into his pocket. You felt a little self-conscious the longer he stared at you, doubly so when his blue gaze lowered. Having expected no one outside of immediate family to be in the house, you were only sporting one of Rafe’s shirts. It came down to your knees, but in front of JJ, you might as well had been wearing a thong.

It's how Rafe would see it, anyway.

“Is that what you do?”

At your blink of confusion, he continued.

“When he’s being…well…Rafe, do you tell yourself that’s just how he is and you know what he’s like and so you should know better?”

JJ’s words struck a nerve, more than he’d ever know, and you glanced away. You guessed that your silence was answer enough, and when you looked back to him, he was nodding to himself.

“Sounds to me like you need a better boyfriend,” he told you with an amused smile, shrugging at you.

Realizing that this conversation went far beyond what you intended, you chose not to dignify that with a response. You could still feel the heat of his gaze as you walked to Rafe’s room, and when you paused with your hand on the knob, you glanced up to catch his eye. JJ hadn’t moved, at all, simply opting to stare at you, blond hair messy in a way that Rafe’s would never be.

You recalled what Rafe said about JJ being trouble, and it was only then did you consider he might be trouble in a way you hadn’t thought about before. When the sound of Sarah’s voice traveled upstairs, JJ’s name in the air, only then did he glance over his shoulder, and you took that opportunity to lock yourself inside of your boyfriend’s room.

[nmakii]

DOMESTIC LIFE WAS NEVER QUITE MY STYLE…

— married life with alastor back in 1925, louisiana

— is this ooc :(? ive been in a ooc rut ever since school ended i miss my pookies n like i cried so much that day 😔 BTW THIS IS THE FIC I HSED THE ALASTOR AI TEXTS :>

lord above! you have to be some kind of gem to secure a man such as alastor. to be that woman, it’s almost certain that you’re someone who understands alastor in ways no one else has.

he doesn’t tend to express his affections physically, but more than makes up for it through his sweet nothings and lavish gifts

he’s most definitely the type to spoil his wife, but only if you ask him for it yourself. he doesn’t want to buy things you have no use for

has a trust fund in his will set for you if, god forbid, he died before you. he doesnt want his love to worry about money, just let him take care of it.

unlike many households at the time, alastor would help with the chores. despite his full-time job, he’d sorta understand that taking care of a house is a full-time job in itself since he’d spent his childhood watching how hard his mother works so, he agrees to always split chores with you.

because of his work, and his popularity, his boss asks that he comes in early to host the morning segment of the show. because of this, it’s not often that you two share a morning together. but, he still remembers to kiss your pretty head good morning, occasionally adding a request for dinner

his mother is MORE than happy to welcome you into the family. she’s just glad that her son found someone that makes him happy.

honestly on the fence about kids. on one hand, it’d make his mother really happy, as well as how it’s expected at the time period. but, he isn’t too interested in physically showing his desires. and, he is quite busy as well with his job and the whole murdering thing. it’s only if you ask him explicitly that he’d decide to look into it, maybe adoption? :>

quite good at putting your insecurities at ease. sweet nothings for days on end can come out of his mouth and he’s still not done.

as you sob into alastor’s chest, his arms wrap around your body warmly as he plays with your hair. "whenever you’re ready to talk, my love.” he held you close, wiping your tears until you were ready to talk.

alastor listened silently as you told him of all your doubts; that you weren’t a good wife, the whispers of every woman in town, everything. “my love, i’ll love you no matter what. it’s the woman inside that i am in love with.” he says as he brushes the hair out of your face, gazing down at you lovingly. “i won’t lie, there are times when you are… feisty. but, it’s your passion and intelligence that always bring me back to you.”

your lips quiver as you try to quell your tears. “can… can you swear that? that you’ll love me no matter what..?” his gaze became gentle as he saw the genuine doubt in your expression. “you have my word, dear. no matter what happens, i’d never stop loving you. even if we fought everyday, i would still be a fool for you. because, well… i suppose the heart wants what the heart wants. and, it is you that my heart yearns for, love.” alastor assured you, his eyes falling as he spoke.

as the sweet nothings fell from his lips, your tears ceased, finding the warmth in his touch. “thank you, dear… you always know how to make me feel better, i love you so much…” you sighed, curling into his touch. “mmh, i love you as well, my pretty girl.” he grinned, kissing your forehead.

as stated above, alastor is not particularly attracted to your looks, but moreso your intelligence and your ability to see right through that charming facade of his. funnily enough, it started a healthy relationship for one of the most deranged men out there.

he’d also be quite attracted to you if you joined him one night. nothing’s more attractive than your beautiful wife in a pretty dress he bought for you all bloodied up with a knife in your hand.

he loves to show you off to the newspapers as his pretty doll, not only because you’re quite the eye candy, but to also make you confident in yourself

he’d still get jealous whenever he’d catch someone staring too long though. ironically enough, he thinks it’s adorable when you get jealous and pout your face. he’s your’s after all, body and soul! why fuss over something that’s not gonna happen?

arguments are quite rare since alastor doesn’t tend to do things that are argument worthy. one of the few reasons you tend to argue is when alastor heads to the club after work and comes home drunk and much later than he intended to. and, after all that, he still apologizes for coming home late, probably tries to come home early so he can cook dinner the next day as an apology :>

[humanpurposes]

I really feel like the writers of HotD could benefit from keeping in mind the phrase "don't play the ending."

At the end of season one, Alicent has Aegon crowned King and puts herself physically between him and a dragon.

And all through season two she's having a miserable time. From episode one she straight up dislikes her sons, is terrified of Aemond, is hooking up with Cole and feeling guilty about it, is feeling guilty about Rhaenyra, feeling guilty about the war, constantly being undermined... but is there actually a moment where the stakes escalate for her? Jaehearys dies while she was doing the dirty with Criston, but she already felt guilty about that. She feels sorry for Helaena, but she already struggles in her relationship with Helaena. She hates Aegon and thinks he'd be a bad King, but she already hated Aegon and thought he'd be a bad King. Then she doesn't want to start a war, but she already did that by naming her son King over Rhaenya. She gets dismissed from the Small Council by Aemond but in the first episode she's already aware that none of the men around her actually respect her. So what is she doing here? What does she want? How is she relevant to the story aside from looking sad and feeling all this guilt for a conflict that is way more complex than her misunderstanding the final words of her rotting husband?

At the end of season one, Rhaenyra learns that her son is dead after she's been hesitant to let the conflict come to all out war. In that final shot of epsiode 10 she's full of anguish and rage. I'm thinking "cool, so when the story picks up again she's going to be ready for war."

But then she's spent so much of season two stalling because she doesn't want to incite bloodshed because war is bad. And she can't justify getting revenge for her son but she can justify letting hundreds die because of some dream her ancestor had. She wants the throne but she's hesitant to fight for it.

There's such a disconnect between where we left off and where we picked up, because there's no starting point in the character arcs. Alicent will become haunted by grief and guilt, oh so lets do that from episode one. Rhaenyra wants to be Queen and was vilified by the fictional history, so lets absolve her of her wrongs and effectively remove her agency.

And my boy Aemond... I love the idea of him feeling remorseful about Luke's death but knowing that he can't appear weak, and so losing his humanity more and more to this image of a Kinslayer. But the execution leaves a lot to be desired for me. I would LOVE to have seen this through his family relationships. Let him have a conversation with Helaena, when her son was murdered as revenge for someone he killed. Let us see the distance growing between him immediately after he comes back from Storm's End. It was clearly the intention all along that Aemond was going to become "the villain" of the series and I love that, but if he's going to feel like he has no choice but to "dracarys" his brother, boot his mum off the Small Council and then leave his family undefended by flying off with Vhagar, I want that to feel earned. (also I want my fav to have more screen time obvs) but I would love for his scenes to have more room to breathe, like the only interaction he's had with Helaena was a scene that was one sentence long, I AM SUFFERING HERE.

In a season with only 8 episodes the pacing is crazy. We've skipped over what clearly was a crucial few days between 1.10 and 2.01. We've got characters stalling for no apparent reason. Simultaneously we're rushing through scenes and character interactions to move on to the next thing. It's genuinely frustrating to watch. Kudos to all the actors doing an amazing job with the script they've been given.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Empress

This AU really starts when Anakin finds his mother in the Tusken camp, but only truly works if there is a little set up before.  It is imperative, for reasons that will become clear, to note that in this Palpatine has been manipulating Anakin with the Force, as opposed to only psychologically, since he was a child.  Palpatine has been seeding the darkside, hidden deep so that it was never discovered (even by Anakin), waiting to sprout and spread the darkside like an infection at the appropriate moments. 

When Anakin finds his mother as she dies, he loses it, but not to violence. Instead he panics and shoves every bit of Force that he can into his mother’s body to try and bring her back and heal her. Every bit of the Force, including the darkside seeds that Palpatine had been planting.  Because healing is primarily a light sided technique, thus somewhat purifying, Shmi does not get the full force of the darkside infection that would have hit her son (so we avoid Vader!Shmi or even Full Sidious!Shmi) however there were a number of long lasting effects to the way Anakin panicked and brought her back (incidentally Anakin has now created two new deities for the Tuskans, which Shmi does note and will make use of later).  These include:

A Force bond between her and Anakin that gave her Anakin's memories and feelings for the past decade. 

A working knowledge of what Palpatine knew (From Palpatine’s Dark Seeds), though no firsthand memories. 

Force Sensitivity that is powerful enough to use the various techniques she just gained the knowledge to use.

A significant hit to the moral centers of her psyche.

A Soul Deep and engrossing ambition to rule the Galaxy.

Now Shmi is not evil in the way that Palpatine is (Palpatine is the kind of evil that not only does whatever he wants to accomplish his goal, but actively goes out of his way to create as much collateral as possible and will in fact even mildly inconvenience himself in order to increase collateral damage) but she does now fall closer to Amoral than not. Like her first option is not to kill kids, but it is never not an option. Shmi does justify her new desire to rule the galaxy, based on the fact that she would be better at it than Palpatine. 

By the time Anakin and Shmi have made it back to the Lars homestead, she has her son wrapped around her finger even more than she would have. She had also, through the careful recounting of how one of the men who had seemed so kindly to the slave children had actually been a child murder (couching it it in terms that one of Anakin's childhood friends, who it turned out had been a victim of this man, grave had been found and the man brought to a rather brutal justice), partially broken Anakin’s trust in Palpatine without ever letting on that she knew who Palpatine was.  

After they get back to the Homestead, Shmi tells Anakin that she wants him to visit again and to bring Obi Wan (It was after they had talked about what had been happening since he left). Anakin loves Obi Wan as a brother, and as such Shmi loves him too. Padme has also fallen quickly under Shmi’s influence, which is good considering that Shmi intended to make Padme another daughter in law (Both because Anakin had a crush, and she wanted Anakin to have what he wanted, and because Senator and former Queen of Naboo is actually a decently powerful set of titles).  Shmi gently shoos her sweet, oblivious son off the planet with her future daughter in law (it is for the best that her Jedi Son be off the planet for what she is about to do next) making them promise to visit soon. 

Cliegg and Beru also fall quickly under Shmi’s spell. Owen holds out a bit longer (I am fully convinced that his ability to hold back Skywalker BS comes from growing up with Shmi, not his few interactions with Anakin) but is just as willing to follow Shmi’s lead within a tenday.

While a galaxy wide war is breaking out, Shmi quietly but very firmly takes control of Tatooine. Then, in spite of the fact she had not left the planet in decades, she quickly takes control of the rest of the Hutt Empire.  Her identity remains hidden; she does not want to fight her son or his Jedi family because they do not yet understand her vision for the galaxy. They will, of that she is sure, but it will take time.

One of the many things she does is abolish slavery within her new Empire.  It is both easier and harder than it would appear. Easier in that she does not care about the power or money of the people who made their living in trafficking of sentient life, so she does not care about the economics of the systems she dismantles. Harder because the Hutt Empire was built on slavery; there are significantly larger portions of every population of the Hutt Planets then anyone realized who had spent most of their lives enslaved, with no training or education and very little idea how to exist without being enslaved (with all the psychological and sociological implications therein).  But she does it, quietly absorbing the fledgling Zygerrian Empire as well. 

A year and a half into the Clone wars Shmi is finally ready to make her move. 

In that time she has become well connected with Padme, who asks for approval to marry Anakin six months into the war (Approval that Shmi grants, on the condition that Padme also get approval from Obi wan, as Anakin’s older brother/father. Padme asks, and to the surprise of both Padme and Anakin immediately gets Obi Wan’s baffled, but pleased, approval. In this one marriage is not forbidden to Jedi, it really isn’t even discouraged. No one seems to want to marry a Jedi, as far as the Jedi are concerned. Date a Jedi, well that seems to be common fantasy. Sleep with a Jedi, all the time. But never marry. This all serves Shimi’s true purpose, to continue to break the trust between her son and Palpatine). They do decide to wait until after the war, when they can have everyone attend; in part because Palpatine is pushing them both in a really creepy way. 

She makes her move by going on vacation with Cliegg to a world she knew, from her own spies, was about to be attacked by separatists. A world that it was highly likely the 212th would be deployed to. In the time it takes for the 212th to liberate the planet, it is a relatively minor battle so only takes a few weeks, Shmi and Clieg have connected with the battalion and convinced them to transport them (Shmi and Cliegg) to Coruscant.  If asked, even Obi Wan, Cody, or the Natborn officers are not sure how they came to agree to take two civilians to the Core but everyone Shmi meets becomes absolutely convinced that it was a reasonable decision. During this trip Shmi bonds with Obi Wan, as her son’s brother/father/teacher.  This was one of her goals, to get a clearer picture of who Obi Wan is, and through him the Jedi Order; Anakin’s memories and feelings are a bit mixed on the Jedi as a whole but she also knows, from Palpatine’s knowledge, that Palpatine had been manipulating those feelings for years.  She finds that she does like Obi Wan. Because of this Shmi intends, beyond even what her plan calls for,  that she would ensure that Obi Wan found happiness in her Empire. 

Upon arriving on Coruscant Shmi sends Cliegg (in disguise) to meet with various criminal underworld leaders who know of her fledgeling Empire, while she meets with members of the Jedi council to plant the seeds of her Galactic Empire. 

It is in this that we truly see the difference between Shmi and Sidious. Shmi wants to Rule the galaxy. Sidious wants to Subjugate the galaxy. Now granted the difference between the two is not as much as people who want the former would protest, but is greater than what the people who want the latter would claim. In this case ruling is a small group having a disproportionate amount of power over a larger group. Subjugation is a group or person asserting total control over another group or person. While a ruler can abuse the power they have, in order to subjugate someone, a being MUST abuse them to break them in such a way the subjugator can control them.  

In spite of her forced amorality Shmi is actually a good person and wants to be a good Empress for the galaxy. So for her, subjugation is more work (realistically 90% of the galaxy is not going to notice if they are in a republic or an empire, and not just because the Empire had been disguising itself as a republic for a decade. That same 90% have comparatively simple needs and are going to be fine with a ruler who provides them. Whereas requires constant control measures to apply the exact correct amount of pressure to bend the populace to your will, without breaking them into rebelling. Ruling well is actually less costly) for less benefit. Because of that having the super powered warrior monks, who most of the beings that would oppose an Empress on principle are going to look to as a paragon of wisdom,  buy into the idea that Shmi should be Empress and that they would be happier in her Empire makes more sense than eradicating them.  Also, complicated feelings aside, the Jedi make up part of Anakin’s family and she does not want to hurt Anakin’s family.

Shmi also, at the behest of Anakin, took time to go with him to meet his friend Palpatine.  While in the waiting room she speaks with Fox, on guard duty, who she recognizes from her talks with Cody as the person to place a bet with(No one suspects the stern commander of the Coruscant Guard to be the biggest bookie in three systems). After about an hour of chit chat (During which Palpatine has no idea he has met someone with all of his knowledge, who is planning to abscond with the Grand Sith Plan) Anakin and Shmi leave the Senate. Anakin semi anxiously asks her what she thinks of Palpatine, babbling a little bit that Obi Wan doesn't like him, but Obi Wan hates most politicians. Shmi, after letting a long pause stretch, says that Obi Wan has good instincts (Look I really want Palpatine to be faced with his own manipulation tactics) and casually mentions Obi Wan’s time enslaved and how that must have hond those instincts- which he had not told Shmi about but that she could guess.  Again without directly accusing Palpatine of anything, Shmi manages to get across to Anakin that as the Chancellor, Palpatine actually currently has all the power and has used it to effectively enslave the clones and the Jedi. Fully breaking Anakin’s trust in Palpatine and tying him closer to the Jedi (where Shmi wants him).   During this exchange Anakin asks what she had been talking to Fox about and she answers with ‘placing a bet’. Anakin lights up and guesses it is the ‘CodyWan Bet’, because literally everybody noticed their pining and that neither will admit it (Shmi uses that to drive the point home that both are effectively enslaved and do not feel free to be together if they might be ‘sold’ apart-a concept that Anakin is very familiar with).

I am not sure where it ends, except that Shmi does indeed become Empress and her Force powers work as such that she gains power through being loved, so in being a good ruler she stops aging. The Jedi do buy in and Palpatine does end up dead. Someone in Shmi’s smaller Empire, before she becomes Empress, discovers the chips and their purpose, which leads to the entirety of the Clones transplanting themselves (GAR, Cadets, everyone) to a planet in the former Hutt space (deeply freaked out over what they could have been made to do to their Jedi) and refusing all calls for like a year, while they dechip. The Jedi (all of them) transplanted themselves to the next planet over, waiting semi impatiently to be allowed to visit their men again.  Shmi meeting Ahsoka after she becomes Anakin’s Padawan and deciding that, as her oldest grandchild, Ahsoka would have the option to be her heir if she would like (Ahsoka really wants to be a Jedi, but agrees to hold the status until another heir comes along-she gratefully passed the heir status to Leia when Leia was born, as she could not be knighted while still the Empress’s Heir). 

Oh and Obi Wan does get to be happy with Cody in the new Empire, with frequent visits from Satine (I like the idea that they were childhood sweethearts/first loves that knew they would not fit well romantically but still loved each other and got to be overprotective of each other-Satine adores Cody, thinks he is perfect for Obi Wan and thy find time every so often to take an evening to drink over whatever ridiculous situation Obi Wan go himself into this time)

[misguidedasgardian]

Desire & Duty (1)

I. Fire & Blood

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aemond finds a way to take his pleasure in his duty

Pairings: Helaena x Targaryen!sister reader, Aegon II x Helaena, future Aemond x Targaryen!reader x Helaena

Warnings: Medieval ASOIF Customs, canon incest, cursing, polyamorous, incestous polygamy, Aemond is more savvy to girl on girl love 😂,  mentions of war and death, blood, unreal ceremonies involving fire and blood, blood drinking, lip slicing, polyamorous marriage, jiji you know what this is about

Wordcount: 3.4k 

Notes: I’m going to do what I think the TV series is going to do, Maelor, (Aegons’s and Helaena’s youngest son) isn’t alive (yet maybe?), Helaena doesn’t lose any children, I want only love and sex for our beautiful Helaena. ALSO, maybe spoilers… this will be smoother, like I said, I want it to be short, sweet and kinky, so I’m not going to dwindle on details jiji 

Two years later

Too much had changed

Too many had died 

Too many loose, too much war and trauma

The entire country was destroyed, burned, people were merely joining together after being divided by war. 

He had to put together a new council, his grandfather died, so it all stood between Tyland Lannister, as the master of coin, Corlys Velaryon as the master of ships, and other old men. 

And now, as he was recently made King, everyone, his mother specially, were urging him to take a wife.

All the surviving Targaryen children had proposals for their hands…

But he already knew what he wanted, he had wanted it for years

First, since he was a child, he always wanted to marry his younger sister, she would always follow him around, even though if her dragon hatched and his didn’t, she would always be kind to him, they would read together, take their lessons together, when he lost his eye, she comforted him, and wouldn’t leave his side for months. He always knew they were destined to be together, to marry in the tradition of their house. And he had always loved Helaena deeply as well, he always resented the way Aegon treated her, and a fierce need to protect her was born in him. 

And then he learned about you both, spending your nights in each other's embrace, and he thought he would lose his mind.

When the war broke out after he accidentally murdered Lucerys, he had to put all his fantasies about his sister in the back of his mind. He needed to have a clear head, but he never forgot about everything he heard and saw.

Everything he did he did for his two sisters, all of it, he fought with determination against Daemon and prevailed, only with the thought of seeing you both again, only with the determination of telling you how much he desired you and loved you. He won.

Even though you were in the battlefield as well

He was King now, his brother, Aegon, was dead, his half sister Rhaenrya, was dead, his nephews were dead. The only ones he had left were his beautiful sisters, Helaena, her and Aegon’s children, and (Y/N). Also his mother had survived the rage of Rhaenyra.

They had won

He sat the Iron Throne as a Regent, waiting for his nephew to come of age, but he was in all effects, a King, the King of the Seven Kingdoms 

So when his mother suggested you marry a Lannister, Helaena be sent away to Dorne, and he a Baratheon girl, he lost it

“I will not sell my sister away!”, he barked, “she has been through enough!”

“She is a young woman…”, clarified Alicent, “she still has her children by Aegon… but she can still have more children, we need to make alliances”

“What we need is to make the House of the Dragon strong again, diluting our blood with those houses will not help us”, Alicent looked at him in terror, deducing what he was saying 

“You cannot wed Helaena… it will look terrible to the smallfolk”, she warned, thinking about how they raised against them, supporting one of Aegon’s bastard children 

“A dragon cares about the opinion of sheeps then?”, he mocked

“Aemond”

“Our family had been decimated”, he barked, “The Targaryen line is in the brink of extinction, we need to keep the family pure”, Alicent looked like she had been struck

“It is not wise”, she begged, but sending her daughter away didn’t pleased her either, Helaena was the… gentler… of her children, and she would not wish to see her part from her home and her family. And Aemond seemed determined, so she sighed loudly, “Helaena has her children by Aegon”, she repeated, but she relented, “and what about your other sister?”, she asked then. Aemond chuckled

“I will take them both to wife”, and right there, Aemond thought fleetingly that Alicent has survived the Targaryen civil war, but this just might end up finishing her off.

“No”, she sentenced, Aemond only smiled

“I will take them both to wife, Jahaerys will succeed me either way, no matter what I do, I’m just King Regent”, he said mindesly 

“No Aemond, you can marry (Y/N) if you want, but not both”, she said, but there was nothing she could say to prevent it

She could argue that the faith would oppose it, but it was terribly weakened, almost to extinction, by Rhaenyra when she attacked the city, that was a blow thrown directly at her, and her faith. 

“You better let me marry both, as I will take Helaena as a lover either way”, he warned, and Alicent’s eyes filled with tears

“What did I do wrong with all of you?”, she lamented, finding it incredibly unfair that she couldn’t pass down her faith to any of her children. “this is twisted! you are not Aegon the Conqueror”

Targaryens, as their dragons, didn’t answer to neither Gods nor men, Alicent often failed to remember that

“I might as well be”, he said dismissively, “I will wed my sisters, and have children with both”

Alicent just cried silently, but said nothing.

Many things have happened in the last few years. A war broke out, a war for the throne. There was no time for anything else, you never got betrothed, you were dispensable, now that your sister and brother were Queen and King, Helaena couldn’t fight on dragonback, but you could.

And so you offered yourself as a dragon rider, even against your mother’s wishes, but Dreamfyre was already grounded, your dragon Vhaelar was needed in the battlefield, and so were you. You had burned armies to the ground, you had commanded the death of people by the thousands.

Now wearing dresses and jewelry was almost foreign to you, as the maids helped you dress with a beautiful crimson red gown. they braided your hair and placed rubies between your silver strands, they placed a necklace with the same precious gems around your neck, and you put multiple rings on your fingers 

You saw your sister entering your chambers, and you smiled brightly at her sight

“Is it odd that I find dresses incredibly comfortable after being two years dressed in riding gear and coat of mail?”, you asked her cheekily, she only shook her head

“It isn’t”, you hugged her tightly and she hugged you back, burying her face on your neck

“It’s finally over”, what marked the end of the war was the defeat and surrender of the Northerner army. Cregan Stark finally yielded after the ship were Rhaenyra’s last sons had sunk in the Narrow sea after a final attack from the Triarchy’s fleet

You did not cheer for their deaths, they were only children after all, innocent little children, your nephews, if you managed to get a hold of them, they were going to be raised in the castle with princess Jahaera and Jahaerys, but no. Fate had other plans

The wolf had surrendered and pardoned, marching North as you both held each other, the last one standing

The war was over.

You were preparing for weeks of celebrations, but you only wanted to be in between your sister’s loving arms.

But again, destiny had other plans

You mother entered the room, enthralled in her own mind to notice the not so sisterly embrace, you and Helaena separated to greet your mother. The Queen Mother now

“I have something important to discuss”, you guessed it couldn’t be anything good, she had that scowl on her face

“what is it dear mother?”, asked Helaena

“Your brother, the King”, you noticed she had a sort of fascination for saying his title, “wants to take a wife”

You didn’t know why, but a bitter taste installed in your mouth. Was Aemond going to get married?

You always believed you were going to marry your brother, you loved him, but you also believed your mother had only betrothe your eldest siblings to avoid Helaena being married to Jacaerys, and you then believed you were going to be married to Jace, but then the war happened, Jace had died.

“Who does he intend to marry?”, you notice that Helaena was frowning, clearly not thrilled with the news as well as you

You two had always been so jealous with Aemond, when there was discussions of Floris Baratheon marrying him you wanted to feed her to your dragon. In your mind, Aemond was yours, you were born to be together, you were born younger than him to be his wife, as the tradition of your house dictated.

Helaena grabbed your hand and held it tightly,making you wince, your mother didn’t seemed to notice

“He intents to take you both to wife”

And different emotions filled you

In a first instance it was bittersweet because your mother truly looked like she was going to be sick, her mouth twisted in disgust. But you felt incredibly happy and relieved, joyous even

Helaena did as well, and she held your hand tightly and smiled at you

That your mother did notice

“You will say no”, she demanded

“Why?”, you couldn’t help but ask, and she looked at you like she wanted to strike you

“Because it's an aberration!”, she screeched, Helaena walked until she was behind you, hiding from her own mother, and you gladly protected her

“If our king wants to marry us, who are we to say no?”, you mocked, and her face twisted even more. Her mouth turned into a horrible expression of disgust and horror, as her eyes shined with tears of anger

“All of you…!”, she seemed to gather air, as the words that would come out of her mouth tasted like poison in her tongue, “... ARE SICK!”, it didn’t take long for her to place two and two together, she believed you both were going to be horrified by the news of her, she never thought you BOTH would like the prosper of sharing a bed with your brother Aemond, “I FORBID IT”

You had never seen your mother like this, she lost it, completely lost it, and if it weren’t for Helaena, and her trembling frame behind you, you would have been scared also, but you couldn’t afford that luxury, when you felt Helaena whimper behind your back, you felt the need to protect her, even if you needed to protect her from your own mother.

“I RAISED WHORES!”, and she cursed you all, Helaena, you, Aemond, all of you, cursed by your own mother. She screeched, threw around everything she could get her hands on, you turned back and hugged Helaena against you, trying to cover her ears as Alicent destroyed everything around you.

But she couldn’t destroy your love…

The guards posted outside your doors heard the commotion, and ran to get the King’s guard, and as two of the white capes ran towards Helaena’s, (the Queen’s) rooms, one of them fetched Aemond

Three white capes ended up entering the room, Aemond trotting behind them, and under his command, they grabbed your mother, firmly, but gently, and removed her from your space 

You said nothing but grabbed Helaena’s hand and led her to your own rooms, which were still quiet. 

They were small, but still in Maegor’s Holdfast, you had insisted in this room because it had big windows, looked into Blackwater bay, and still got sun for most part of the day.

Aemond quickly followed you 

When he decided to marry you both, he knew he was going to face opposers, he knew his mother, and her strong beliefs, he was also reminded she betrothed her two oldest children to prevent Rhaenyra on insisting to marry Jacaerys and Helaena 

She did not share the Valyrian customs.

That and the civil war that killed her father, Aegon, and almost her grandchildren, had left her in the brink of mental collapse 

But it didn’t hurt less, having your own mother scream at you like this.

As soon as you arrived in the comfort of your room, you took Helaena’s hands in yours, she was still shaking, and you kissed them, caressing the back of their hands with your thumbs, immediately soothing her, but yet not enough.

You looked at Aemond, who was standing by the door

It was strange

Every time you saw him, you immediately felt relieved, like everything was going to be alright. Like you were lost in the sea and he was the light of the lighthouse, guiding you back home.

The last two years, you had been separated by the war, and you had just got back home after months leading the Green Army of Old Town, you still had to welcome in each other's lives  

But Helaena holds tight to you, and in that moment, nothing else matters. You turned to her, she leaned in and you made your forehead touch, your hand went to softly cradle her cheek

“Everything is going to be alright”, you whispered, and she nodded slightly, “We are together again, nothing will come between us, not even her”

“She hates us”, she whined, “her own blood”

“She doesn't hate us, she doesn’t understand us”, you said simply, she just shook her head, and hid in your neck, you hugged her tightly against you

“I send her to her rooms in the tower of the hand”, he offered, “until she can think about what she did”, you barely nodded, but Helaena wasn’t pleased with that decision 

“It is not going to change her mind”, she whispered sadly, She squeezed your hand in hers

“Is it true, brother?”, you asked softly, “that you want to marry us?”, you sounded hopeful, and innocent, and that made Aemond tight in his breeches embarrassingly fast

But he regained his composure, he grasped his hands behind his back, and straightened his posture, looking at the both of you with respect, and also devotion

“I can’t stand the thought of anyone else taking you both away from here, away from me”, he admitted 

He had to be straight forward, he had known you for all your life, he wanted you both, he desired you, and he was going to have you

“Our mother has forbid us”, you said, and he smiled when he saw a hint of a smirk on your lips

“I will send her away”, he said simply, “she will benefit from being in Old Town, with her family”, he took a step towards you both, and you didn’t move, you just looked back at him, “the real question is, what do you both want to do?”, you looked at each other and smiled

Aemond looked at your intertwined handsome and smirked as well

“I know about both of you”, he said, he walked until he was within your reach, he reached for both of you, and you reached back, soon all of your hands were intertwined, “I will protect you”, he said softly, looking at you and then looking at Helaena, “together we will rule the seven Kingdoms, like Aegon did with Visenya and Rhaenys by his side”, he said, and even though you didn’t believe that was the right reason to join in marriage like Aegon had done, you nodded, and looked at Helaena who nodded as well. 

You both turned to Aemond

“My beautiful sisters”, he whispered, his voice thick with desire, “I couldn’t stand the thought of any other man having you”, he leaned in, first towards you, and trapped your lips with his, it was sweet and passionate, it took your breath away, but before it could escalate he abandoned you and turned to Helaena

She was expecting him and devoured him with need and passion. 

“No one is ever going to touch you ever again”, he said possessively, “you will be mine, and mine alone, you will give me heirs as well”

“Mother will never allow it”, she whispered

“We are the blood of the dragons, and dragons answer to neither gods nor men”, he growled

Aemond led you to the Dragonpit, and from there, you took your dragons, Helaena on her beautiful she-dragon Dreamfyre, Aemond in the monstrous Vhagar, and you, in Vhagar’s hatchling, or so they said, Vhaelar. 

He had grown to be a male, you and Helaena discovered both your dragons coiled together in the pit, you had heard Vhaelar sing to Dreamfyre, and since they had been seen together, Dreamfyre had laid various clutches of eggs. It was so sweet.

Aemond led you, and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were flying towards Dragonstone. 

As soon as you landed in the Dragonmount, the Dragon keepers received you.

They knew, you knew, it was an immediate understanding.

Before the end of the day, you and Helaena were fixing each other's headdress and ceremonial robes.

“We will not be married to one another”, she whispered sadly, fixing a silver string that framed your face

“We will”, you whispered

“We will be both married to Aemond”, she said then… and you just giggled

“And that will be enough, we will be together forever”, you said with a wide smile, she smiled back.

So you joined hands, and together, you walked towards the beach

The night had already fallen over the Island, but yet, thanks to the fires lit all over the beach, you were able to see clearly Aemond and the Dragon keepers 

 Aemond looked so handsome, his eyepatch was missing, his beautiful sapphire shining thanks to the flames of the fire, his hair loose, neatly combed back, he reached for the both of you, taking one of your hands and one of Helaena’s

In a strange way, you always knew this was going to be the beginning for you. Even though that for Helaena, it was like a second opportunity, and for Aemond… for Aemond it was his dream come true. 

The night was calm, a nice summer night, the star were shining brightly, there was no wind, none, the only sounds that could be heard where the ones of the fires crackling, and the soft voice of the Dragon Keeper, reciting the vows

You knew High Valyrian, it was the only thing your father had ever insisted regarding the education of his children, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite pay attention. Your sole attention was on Aemond in front of you, and Helaena by your side.

The touch in your hands, where Helaena and you hold hands, the breathing of your siblings, and soon your spouses…, the night was magical, you could feel it in the air.

You could hear your dragons singing, you could feel the words of the keeper

Fire & Blood

The words that bound you, the words that led your house.

Amond took a knife made of dragon glass, he gently sliced Helaena’s hand, and then yours, you winced at the sting, but it passed quickly, you then grabbed the knife together with Helaena, and asliced one of his hands.

Your blood flowed freely to the chalice underneath, the blood of the three of you.

Then Aemond sliced your lip, and then Helaena’s, and then you sliced his. with the blood from your lips he drew a symbol in your forehead, looking straight into your eyes you got lost in his, he then drew on Helaena. 

He kissed you sweetly, the tangy flavor of blood mixing in your tongue, then he leaned in and kissed Helaena. But then, you turned to your sister, and kissed her as well, surprising Aemond, and the dragon keeper as well

You were marrying her too, not only Aemond… 

But now, you are married.

Married, bloodied, bonded together

In Fire and Blood.

taglist! ❤️❤️🔥🔥

@sloppy0bitch @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsdelight @floofdeloop @fangirlninja67 

[mfelewzi]

From the Facebook profile Sauron (I don't like this name for a page with LotR as subject,but these are the ironies of the life).

Art: Mistress Lobelia by John Howe

"During the War of the Ring, Lobelia was imprisoned in Lockholes for arguing with the Chief's Men and attacking one of them with an umbrella. After finding Fredegar Bolger, Frodo finds Lobelia, old and frail. As Frodo lets her out, Lobelia is popular for the first time for bravely standing up to the Saruman's Men, receiving cheers and applause.

However, she was crushed to find out her son had been murdered whilst she was in prison. After the War of the Ring, Lobelia returns to her home village to live with the other Bracegirdles, giving Bag End to Frodo. When she died in the Spring of T.A. 3020, she gave her money to Frodo to be used to help hobbits left homeless by Saruman and her son, which deeply moved Frodo."

You know, when I speak about Redemption, It would be a thing like that: understand their mistakes and go over. And pratically, this is what happened tò Azula in The Spirit Temple's story. Yes, It could be not so enthusiast as an Adventure, expecially for a character like her, and I think that some ideas of that Fourth Season excluded by producers and authors should be take (bit clearly Di Martino will never do it), but:

-It's clearly better than Smoke and Weed (thanks @akiizayoi4869 for this name) with Azula as the fusion among Joker and Ras Al- Ghoul, and The dummy Search;

-There is a maturation, and the refuse of a bad oath.

So, Azula had acted like Lobelia, that She wasn't a Good Character and She was never loved by Tolkien's fans, but She redeemed herself, without becoming friend of Frodo.

Yes, It wasn't enough, expecially for an iconic character like Azula, but I understand that Di Martino and Konietzko love Zuko more than the other characters, and expecially the first of them sees her like an opposite of ZuZu, so if he have to realize his Destiny to build the Perfect Peace of the New Age, She have to leave the place to him.

Eh, I think that Di Martino, Who desires so much to become a Great Author, had Lost his possibility some years ago. And no new books that are written by other people will change his failure, no care how are written good and if he place his name to the side of the real writers.

The Classicals has more power than we think, and they could help us to understand themselves, our places and sometimes our new stories. If we try to hear them.

[nrilliree]

IMO Team Green (or rather the green boys') stans' misogyny evinces itself in not only slut shaming Rhaenyra, but also in their overall attitude towards HOTD female characters. They act as if they wanted to reduce them to objects of desire or envy for (more or less) mediocre men around them. Or simply to plot devices.

A few months ago, Gayle Rankin said in an interview that Alys was a pretty cool character and her arc would be "wild". A lil while later Greencels started to claim with rock-solid certainty that Gayle confirmed Alys x Aemond scenes would be wild 🤮🤢.

In addition, they seem so darn excited for Aemond, disrespecting his mother, since unlike him, Alicent's a weak, emotional woman (not that during Viserys' last supper, the very mature , composed and stoic Prince Aemond was seething because his 14 yo nephew chuckled when sevants brought a roast pig and put it in front of him).

They also claim it is not confirmed Aegon raped Dyana, and, since Baby Maleor is nowhere to be seen, they're looking forward to watch Aegon and Helaena, ugh, performing their conjugal duty. There are also theories Maelor will be born after BnC, which, in turn, make greenies excited to see Aegon and his wife making a new heir who's gonna replace their decased son. Not that !book Aegon, who was no doubt a stinker, had the decency to give his depressed wife some space and the royal couple stopped sleeping in the same bedroom after Jaehearys' death.

Speaking od Helaena - there is even a theory she jumped to her death because she figured it out Aemond had fallen in battle. Not that nothing in FnB indicates Helaena and Aemond were loving siblings, very dear to each other.

Wait, are there any rumors about Maelor? It doesn't make any sense, does it? B&C itself will not make sense, because when they come and say "son for son", it is clear that they will not choose the daughter. I thought the thing with Maelor was like Daeron - he was born off-screen and lives off-screen.

"disrespecting his mother, since unlike him, Alicent's a weak, emotional woman" I agree here. I don't like Alicent. I despise Alicent. But Alicent has bigger balls than her son. Aemond is a psychopathic coward who thinks he's a great warrior because he trained with his teacher (who couldn't actually hurt him) and because his dragon murdered a 14-year-old boy on a baby dragon. What a macho man.

"it is not confirmed Aegon raped Dyana: Okay. Okay… I guess I have nothing more to add.

[sagemonsters]

The Drider & the Shepherd's Daughter

Summary: a fairy tale where Malina, the shepherd's daughter, is tasked with begging a drider for silk for her sisters' dresses... and finds herself desiring more than just the silk.

Status: SFW

Pairing: cis female human x cis female drider

Word Count: 2,579

*

Long ago and far away, there was a shepherd who lived in the mountains with his flock, his dog, his wife, and his three daughters. His name is not important. His dog’s name is not important. His wife’s name is not important either, but his daughters’ names are. The oldest was Claudia, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than the dreams of sapphires. The middle girl was Isolda, who was fair of face and had eyes more blue than a clear midsummer sky. And the last and least was Malina, who had a face you wouldn’t look twice at and eyes like fog, and who had killed her mother.

The shepherd and the two elder daughters often reminded Malina of this, because they had watched Malina’s mother die of childbed fever barely a week after Malina had been brought into this world.

She grew into a child of average build, weight, appetite, and sensibilities. She wore her sisters’ hand-me-downs and played with the wooden toys that they outgrew. She learned to hold her tongue rather than talk out of turn, and to observe others carefully. She watched the patterns of birds in the air and sheep on the ground, and feared the howling of the winter wolves. She dreamed the dreams of children everywhere who feel that they are neither wholly understood nor wholly loved; dreams of being spirited away to someplace where her real father and sisters welcomed her, a place where her hand-me-down socks didn’t have holes and her father called her by her name rather than “girl” or “you.” She was, in short, neither monstrous nor mad, and although underloved she was never outright rejected by her family as she changed from a child to a woman.

The local lord had three sons, all spirited young men who were fair of face and had eyes as blue as the faraway ocean. Sometimes they rode through the village on market days and gave flowers to the peasant girls in exchange for kisses.

The eldest of the three young men saw Claudia. He offered her a bundle of bright yellow jonquils, and Claudia kissed him. She twined the flowers into a crown to rest upon her golden hair, and told the boy that she would look much better with a crown of metal and a bridal veil. The eldest of the lord’s sons was already captivated by Claudia’s beauty, but knew well that peasant girls didn’t marry into nobility. Nevertheless, he could not deny her.

“Weave and sew your wedding dress, and come to me again,” the eldest son said. “If it is as beautiful as you are, I will marry you.”

So Claudia returned to the shepherd’s home, and carded and wove the bales of soft white lamb’s wool into cloth, and then cut and sewed the cloth into a dress. But she had no pearls or jewels, and she knew that a peasant’s woolen gown could never rival a satin gown made by a master tailor in one of the southern cities, so she called for Malina.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will eat me from my toes to my head. It’s too dangerous.”

“You killed our mother,” Claudia reminded her. “Fetch the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina hung her head in shame, then packed a basket with bread and cheese and salted mutton, pulled on her hat and shawl, and set out. She climbed the mountain trails, which grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found a canyon crowded with massive spider webs. Antlers protruded from an equally massive storage cocoon beside the entrance.

Malina waited outside the canyon. Only the wind stirred the webbing, and dusk began to fall as the sun set behind the peaks. A chill descended over the mountains, and Malina pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders.

There was a chittering noise, followed by the sound of too many legs thudding against the ground. “Are you lost, my dearest?” asked the drider who loomed out of the deepening darkness. She had the torso of an elf and the lower half of a spider the size of a pony, with a multitude of glowing red eyes filling her gray face.

“I’m not lost, Mistress,” Malina said. “I came here looking for you.”

The drider paused, then asked: “What is your name, my dearest?”

Nobody had ever asked Malina her name before. She told the drider.

“Dearest Malina, what do you seek?” the drider asked next.

“My sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina said.

“And what do you offer in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?” asked the drider.

Malina offered her the basket.

“Dearest Malina, I eat my meat raw and wriggling, and I take neither bread nor cheese,” the drider said. “Offer me something else.”

Malina offered her the promise of a lamb from her father’s flock.

“Dearest Malina, a single spring lamb, no matter how tender, is not enough for a bolt of my cloth. Offer me something else.”

“I have nothing else,” Malina admitted. “Unless you desire my life.”

“I do not desire your life,” the drider said. “Will you give me a kiss for a bolt of silken cloth?”

“I will give anything to make my sister happy.”

“Be careful what you say, dearest Malina,” the drider whispered, and approached on her many legs. Malina’s own legs wanted to tremble, but she held her ground. The drider cupped Malina’s face gently with her gray hands, and Malina’s eyes fluttered closed. The human didn’t know if her heart thundered in fear or anticipation, but she could have sworn that it stopped at the soft press of the drider’s lips against her own a moment later. When Malina opened her eyes, the drider presented her with a bolt of silken cloth that shimmered under the moonlight.

“Here is your cloth,” the drider said.

“Thank you,” Malina said. Her lips tingled. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Arachne,” the drider informed her, and sent Malina home down the mountain trails.

Malina arrived before dawn. Her father hadn’t noticed her absence, but Claudia was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the eldest of the lord’s sons. Even with no pearls or jewels, the dress was so beautiful that the young man had no choice but to marry her. Claudia left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle. 

Malina dreamed of Arachne’s lips and hands upon her, and felt a pang of hitherto-unknown desire in the morning when she awoke alone in her bed.

Another market day, the second-eldest of the lord’s sons saw Isolda in the village, and offered her a bundle of bright crimson roses in exchange for a kiss. Isolda accepted, and twined the roses into a crown to rest upon her coppery red hair. She told the lord’s son how fine she would look with a crown of metal and a bridal veil, and this second son, thinking of his brother’s fortune in finding a beautiful wife, posed the same challenge as his elder sibling had done.

Isolda returned home. She did not bother sewing a dress of lamb’s wool, and instead summoned her sister.

“Girl,” she said. “Go into the mountains and fetch me a bolt of cloth woven from spider silk.”

“Sister, I can’t,” Malina protested. “The drider will not let me impose on her generosity a second time, and I fear…” She didn’t know what she truly feared, however, and could not continue.

“You killed our mother,” Isolda said, not noticing her younger sister’s hesitance. “Claudia may have forgiven you, but I haven’t. Fetch me the silk so you can atone for her murder.”

Malina lowered her eyes to the floor in what might have been shame—but her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The young woman packed her basket a second time, and donned her hat and shawl. This time, however, she took her mother’s wedding band and slipped it into her pocket before heading out the door. Once again, Malina climbed the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with every step she took, until she found the canyon. She waited, and dusk cloaked the mountains in darkness. Arachne emerged from among the webs.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you here?” the drider asked.

“My other sister needs a bolt of spider silk cloth for her wedding dress,” Malina admitted, “and I will do anything to make her happy.”

“Be careful of what you say,” Arachne warned. “What will you offer me in exchange for a bolt of my cloth?”

“Will you take my mother’s ring?” Malina asked, and fished the silver band out of her pocket. She held it out, and Arachne approached to inspect it. Malina’s heart once again began to hammer in her chest as she looked at the drider’s lips.

“I place no value in metal,” the drider said eventually. “Offer me something else.”

“Will you take another kiss?” Malina said. And then she surprised herself with: “I would be happy to give it to you.”

After a moment, the drider smiled. “I will take your kiss, but I will ask this of you as well: will you wear my favor, dearest Malina? Will you wear it always and visit me at least once a moon for a year? If this is acceptable, I will give you the cloth.”

“It is very acceptable,” Malina said, and leaned into the drider’s touch. Their lips met for a second time, and this time Malina knew that the thrill in her heart was something very different from fear. When they finally pulled apart, Arachne gave her the bolt of silk. The drider also gave her a shimmering length of ribbon, and tied it gently around her right wrist. Her hands were warm and soft as they brushed against Malina’s.

Malina returned home with the bolt of cloth before dawn. Her father had not noticed her absence, but Isolda was happy to receive the silk. She cut and sewed it into a dress, and this she showed to the second of the lord’s sons, and was married to him shortly thereafter. Isolda left the shepherd’s home to live in the lord’s castle, and Malina kept her promise to visit Arachne once a moon.

Finally, the youngest of the lord’s sons came to Malina in the village on market day. He offered her a fistful of daisies plucked from the roadside in exchange for a kiss. Malina blushed and accepted, but the kiss felt awkward and forced. Malina pulled away.

“Do you want to marry me?” the youngest son asked.

Malina hesitated, then shook her head.

The lord’s son didn’t seem to recognize this. He continued: “Your sisters’ wedding gowns were amazing dowries. They said that you gathered the silk from a man-eating drider in the mountains. Fetch me three bolts of this silk, and I won’t ask you to make a dress out of it.”

“Sir,” Malina protested. “I cannot marry you.”

“Yes,” the youngest son agreed, “you aren’t beautiful enough. However, you will fetch me the bolts of spider silk. I command this of you, as the son of your lord.”

“But I can’t,” Malina protested. “I can’t impose on Arachne’s generosity a third time, and ask for three bolts of cloth rather than one. It is too much.”

“Arachne?” the lord’s son asked. “It has a name?”

Malina froze into stillness. 

The lord’s son looked at the shimmering ribbon still tied around Malina’s wrist. “What’s this?” he asked, and reached out to examine her.

Malina pulled away again. “It’s nothing, sir,” she said. “I made it from a scrap of leftover fabric from my sister’s dress.”

“You’re lying!” the lord’s son declared. His eyes narrowed. “You’re in league with the drider! Did you enchant your sisters’ dresses so that my brothers would be made stupid with infatuation? They’re married to worthless peasant girls now! I’m no fool, though; I can tell you’re a witch. Guards! Guards!”

Malina fled the village as fast as she could, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She knew her father would offer her no shelter from the lord’s son, the village church no sanctuary, and so her feet took her along the mountain trails that grew narrower and steeper and stonier with her every leaping step. She did not wait at the canyon mouth as she heard the baying of the lord’s hounds, but slipped into the maze of sticky webbing. She slowed as she navigated between them, and struggled not to fall into the silken traps.

Arachne descended along the canyon wall on a silken line from the spinnerette of her spider abdomen. She looked down at Malina with her many red eyes, and listened to Malina’s panting breaths and the growing cacophony of the hounds and guards.

“Dearest Malina, why do you weep?” the drider asked in her soft voice.

“Arachne, Arachne, the lord’s youngest son called me a witch and said I used magic to enchant his brothers,” Malina said. “I think they want to kill me.”

“Dearest Malina, do you wish them to live?” Arachne asked. Her many eyes glowed bright as bloodied garnets.

“Yes,” Malina said.

“Dearest Malina, do you truly wish it so? Do you truly wish it after their cruelty to you?”

Malina hesitated, and the baying of the hounds and the shouting of the guards drew nearer. They had almost reached the canyon. 

“I wish it so,” Malina whispered.

“Then so it shall be,” the drider said, and spun more webs so that neither human nor hound could enter the canyon without Arachne’s assistance. The guards’ swords tangled and caught in the sticky webbing without cutting it, and the dogs refused to come near. After a time, the pursuers gave up and went away, their voices fading down the mountainside.

And now Malina was alone with Arachne. She could not return to her father’s home, or to the village, and she could not call upon her sisters at the lord’s castle. She was, for the first time, without a family, and her tears stung her eyes more fiercely than ever.

“Dearest Malina, what brings you such sorrow?” Arachne asked, and pulled Malina into her strong gray arms. Malina leaned against her.

“I am lost,” Malina said when she had mastered herself somewhat. “I have nothing. I have nobody.”

“Dearest Malina, you have me,” Arachne said. “We can travel far from these mountains, and make a home where none can harm or hate us. We will be safe. We will be happy. I promise you this with the breath in my lungs and the beating of my heart.”

Malina turned in the drider’s arms to look into her face. “Dearest Arachne, how can I thank you?”

“Will you wear my favor always?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I already do,” Malina answered.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Yes, and I already have.”

“Will you marry me, dearest Malina? Will you call me your wife and cherish me until the end of our days?” Arachne asked.

“Yes, and I always will,” Malina answered. She reached for the drider and kissed her a third time then, slowly and softly, feeling wholly loved and wholly understood.

*

You can also read this story in the April 2023 edition of the M❤���NSTER magazine, or download a nicely laid out PDF from my own itch.io page (both downloads are free, but please consider tipping where possible).

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a coffee so I can have a warm drink while I write!

[horizon-verizon]

The way TG want to pretend Book Alicent isn’t an evil and repugnant hag is going to drive me INSANE.

In Fire & Blood, when Alicent marries Viserys, Alicent is 18 and Rhaenyra is 9.

By the time Rhaenyra is 13 and Alicent has birthed two sons, Alicent is already spreading harmful and disgusting rumors about Rhaenyra’s “promiscuity”. This is a woman in her mid-20s maligning, slut shaming and sexualizing an orphan girl who’s still in middle school, all to advance her incompetent sons in the line of succession. Criston Cole is 15 years older than Rhaenyra, he became her sworn protector when she was 7 and accompanied her ever since, Alicent is literally mocking and blaming a victim of sexual grooming.

The same Alicent who laughed when she heard about the sack of Tumbleton where little girls and women were raped hundreds times and septas were chased naked through the streets and gang raped by a hundred men.

Just as Aegon II was starting to think about folding it, in the face of oncoming and angry Rhaenyra loyalists, on the recommendation that Prince Aegon would likely just send him to The Wall, it’s Alicent who pipes up with her suggestion that he instead start slicing his 10 years-old nephew to pieces as a warning.

After Aegon III becomes king, Alicent snatches a dagger from a guardsman in an attempt to murder him.

Her urging her granddaughter Jaehaera to slit her husband and cousin, Aegon III’s throat in his sleep traumatized the girl so badly that Aegon’s regents forbade Alicent from ever interacting with Jaehaera again.

It’s clear that Alicent stans can’t separate the character from the actress who plays her. Before HOTD aired, absolutely no one thought Alicent was anything but an awful and abusive stepmother. The parasocial relationship with Olivia is so creepy and disturbing.

Giving Alicent the benefit of the doubt, it's possible that she at least showed much more restraint and never said what it told to be her laughing at the Tumbleton thing, or whatever she said twisted to make her seem worse. I do believe that she said Rhaenyra should have died in childbirth. Why this and not the other? Because wants her side to look as good as possible, and laughing at a MASS terror event is simply not equal to wishing death on a singular enemy. Plus, as a woman, blatant desires or approval for violence in war doesn't go down as well as a woman hating another women for men, even though the latter troubles them if they are directly witnessing that.

But who knows, she may have developed some feelings of regret ever since Lucerys' death and how it went down--bc it's kinslaying and she's ult religious, doesn't want her kids committing blatant sins esp when they are trying to make them all look better than Rhaenyra.

As for Alicent urging and Aegon "folding":

Yes he considered folding, but logically Alicent was in the right to point out that he'd never be truly safe under Aegon III after killing Rhaenyra the way he did and in front of the traumatized boy...whether Alicent is evil or not, this is out of her control and she decided to suggest what she thought would preserve her son's life in perpetuity. Again, I am not saying she is being morally correct or that none of this wasn't partly her fault in the first place or that we shouldn't criticize her greed. I am saying that before we chalk up her suggestions as just malicious or flattingly evil here (before we get to Jaehaera), there is this particular element of her seeing the blatant flaw in Aegon's hope and trying to preemptively preserve his life in lieu of all her children else has died and gone...nothing like show!Alicent. Aegon was stupid-desperate and she always wanted and acted to preserve his life and get him the throne based on her perception of his right to it.

The rest of what you say, yeah, evil, no two tones about it. I want to add, though, that this feels like a deliberate progression into her doing as she does post-Dance against Aegon III; before Rhaenyra's death, she was relatively restrained and deliberate in her actions and even took care to protect the city from the blacks by ways that if there hadn't been dragons she had a chance of succeeding. However, you can see a difference b/t her at the council & when Rhaenyra touches down at the Castle vs her really dumb "bastard blood shed at war" attempt at negotiation vs Aegons return vs her reaction to Helaena's death vs her post-Dance actions. Pattern here is she gets progressively more ruthless or at least takes less pains to disguise it or beat around the bush and it's bc she feels herself slowly losing her kids and reacts by becoming even more determined to secure the throne for Aegon, bc then he'd/she'd have the highest authority and be less vulnerable. Kinda the only way through is up sorta thing and it resembles a sunk-cost fallacy except no bc she'd be right that they need to win in order to finally be "safe".

Again, I don't like her and I don't feel bad for her, but she's not out here just trying to destroy Rhaenyra for the fun of it--though I am sure this fuels and inspires much of her actions in lieu of her offense at her not reaping the "promised" benefits of birthing a prince/another woman having what she'd have. She is going by her twisted values and eventually wants to also protect her kids and the "ratio" of that at any given time is pretty negligible in the very beginning, as we don't really know, too, how much she truly believes Daemon would murder her kids--either covertly or overtly.

Finally, when all her kids are gone, she's willing to potentially sacrifice her granddaughter to destroy the "carrier" of how those kids died in the war's duration, projecting her regrets and making it everyone else's problem--her final "unraveling". For her, she's willing to do this to her granddaughter even though she loved her kids simply bc she couldn't live with her own regrets. And girls are more disposable in the value system most of them had, esp with Jaehaera having disabilities--perhaps a "she's going to suffer anyway", and she rationalized that Jaehaera would be always spared from certain death for Aegon's murder bc she is so feeble and a child.

So there's an interesting progression here in Alicent's psyche that belies the thought of her having simple malice against the blacks.

[a-funeral-pyre]

May Day Parade 2024 - Prompt One: May King Mordred

I did an attempt at re-editing and finally posting an old fic of mine for @queer-ragnelle 's May Day Parade! Although I have to admit I am not fully satisfied by the translation, but there is not much that can be done for that. Here we go:

“Yit that traytour […] Turns hym furthe tite, and talks no more Went wepand awaye, and weries the storndys That ever his werdes ware wroght, siche wandrethe to wyrke” (Allitterative Morthe Arthure)

The sky should not have been so dark today. It is barely midday, and this should have been a peaceful day. But the sun is gone, along with any hope of changing things.

It doesn't cause you any pain. Darkness is your most ancestral memory.

You were born in darkness. You were always destined to live there. Generous hands have rescued you from the abyss only to lead you onto a path devoid of light.

Deep down, you have known it from the beginning.

Before you even knew who you really were there was a voice that came from the night and whispered to your soul. You knew you were fated to be more than just a fisherman's son.

You thought your destiny was to become the heir of a king. You realized too late that you had to be an avenger.

Your father must pay for what he did.

It seems everyone has forgotten the massacre he chose to carry out. Everyone except you. And now you will bring justice and take your rightful place.

You could have repressed your hatred if it weren't for the blood that unites you. You did not ask to be born. You are just the result of his actions, but he's always been too busy looking at you suspiciously to realize that. He never wanted you and he tried to destroy you as soon as you came into this world. The time has come to punish him.

And you don't care how many will be burned by your revenge. Not anymore.

You could have spared Guinevere. But she didn't deserve to have Gareth pay for her. You wished it was her beautiful, cruel face to be frozen in death, her head to be severed. She could have loved you. If not as a wife, then at least as a friend.

But you are the symbol of her husband's guilt, and this is enough to make you enemies.

Now it doesn't matter anymore. You stopped desiring her. When you return, seeing her become aware that in the end you won - the bastard, the traitor, the sick fruit of the king's sin - will be enough.

This time you are certain to win. The darkness around you is witness to this. You will have what is yours, you will avenge the victims of your father, your mother...

And yourself.

Maybe your father thought this time would never come. Maybe he believed that welcoming you into his court was enough to erase the fact that he tried to kill you.

He was naive enough to think you were harmless and he thought that, like everyone else, you couldn't see through his mask of justice and virtue.

All you had to do was look him in his eyes to know what he thought of you. A youthful mistake, a child that should never have been born, dangerous just for existing. He could never have been a father to you. He could never see you as anything other than an enemy.

Now he doesn't hide it anymore.

All your life you have done what he taught you. You have lied. You will rise to power by cheating and killing, as your grandfather did, and you will prove yourself to be your father's worthy son. Then the throne can only be yours.

You are not alone. You have an army with you. Men who saw you worthy of being king, men who long to see you in your father's place. And it doesn't matter that they only follow you for the benefits you promised them. They chose to help you. They chose to raise you to the place you should not have conquered by force. They are more loyal to you than your family ever was.

You have them, and more. You have the blood of kings on your side. You are about to kill a murderer If there really is a just God, He can only be on your side.

You can finally take off the mask you've kept on for years and breathe. For the first time, you are truly alive.

This unnatural night that has fallen on the world will be the dawn of victory for you.

The lie you have woven all these years has come to an end. Just a few hours and you will be king. You will get what you want. You will be respected, you will be loved.

You have to keep telling yourself this until it's all over. Just one last trick on yourself. Just enough to keep going.

Then you will be satisfied with having repaired the wrong you have suffered. You will be able to go on living alone. It won't be too difficult – it's just what you've done so far.

You were born for this moment, to follow the path that fate had written for you. You will have to be able to survive what comes next.

You will have to delude yourself that you can achieve victory. That you can be the master of your destiny.

You have believed in your hatred for so long that you no longer perceive its meaning, but you have gone too far to stop now. You've been alone too long to find a way to bridge the gap between you and your father. From the beginning you had to take on this role. Thus said the prophecy that shaped you.

Deep down you are aware that only emptiness will come afterwards. You've been waiting for this moment your whole life. And you are afraid, because without the desire that has sustained you so far you will no longer be anything.

This will be your last moment. If you survived, you could try to be reborn. You could truly live, finally, once you are free from your father's shadow.

But you are not made for the light of life. Only for this darkness. Only in this moment, now that you are so close to your goal, you really exist.

And nothing has changed compared to before. You are still completely alone.

You had no one to accompany you this far. If Agravain lent you his help, it wasn't because he believed in you. There is no seer who can advise you along the way. As if the fate that put you on this path had abandoned you from the beginning.

You are not naive enough to delude yourself that things will change when all this is over. You have to believe that it is a valid price to pay for what you are about to do, because now you can no longer go back.

You will undo everything you were, everything you are. You're not sure if you'll still be anything after that.

But you can't care about what you might have been if there had been another way. Not anymore. It didn't matter to your father, a bastard born of deception too virtuous to let you become king like he did. You should follow his example, at least this time, and bury all visions of a brighter future.

Even if you had the chance to rebel in the past, you can't do it now. You are just the shadow that must suffocate the light.

You see him, your father, in front of you. Proud and terrible. White and shining. The sun that disappeared from the sky was incarnated in him.

It will burn you, and you know it. You are already defeated. You're better off accepting it and giving up. He will never forgive you, you would die anyway, but at least you would have consciously chosen something, even just once in your entire life.

There's no more time.

As much as it is a crime, as much as it is useless and does not fulfill your hopes, you will do what is right. What you want, what you have to.

All you will do is fulfill desires that were never entirely yours. You have to accept your nature. You are just an instrument of fate.

And when your father dies, you will bring no new dawn. Only darkness and silence, again.

You could have had a normal life. Arthur might have made you his heir. Or he would simply smile at you, every now and then. He would have spoken to you with the same love with which he spoke to your brothers. If he hadn't believed in the prophecy. If I hadn't hated you. If you had not hated him, fulfilling your fate.

You never had a choice.

You had to get here no matter what. You have shed too much blood and tears. Gawain, who, however loyal he was to the wrong person, was still your brother, was only the last of the sacrifices, of the bodies you had to pile up to climb to this moment.

You can't stop anymore. There is nothing left that can save your soul, or at least deprive you of the painful awareness of having lived in vain.

Your father was a glorious and ephemeral flame. You were born just to turn the page.

Nothing more than this.

You existed for him, and together with him you will die. There is nothing you can do to change things now.

Just a moment and you will be free from everything. Whatever awaits you in hell will be no worse than the years you spent on this Earth.

And as his spear slides into you, as his light pierces you, you just wish you had another chance, to go back, change fate, and be happy.

But it's too late. Your name will always be a whisper in the darkness, a black stain in this shining legend, and in your torn body there is no longer enough breath to cry out your pain.

Camlann stands silently over your ruin.

[bittersweetcreep]

How I See Yandere!Red Luna!Damian: Like Mother Like Son

The tldr

Damain Yandere Type

Possessive

Manipulation

Self-Indulgent

Impulsive

Stalker

Overly Jealous

Talia Yandere Type

Possessive

Manipulative

Sadistic

Puppet Master

I see Damian being like his mother, so let's talk about Talia first. I see her being the type needing to own and dominate her love Bruce, and becoming aggressive if her ownership is threatened. Will exercise her control and influence over him by using his secrets and weaknesses against him.

Will inflect suffering upon Bruce by bringing about emotional or physical harm to him. She derives pleasure from doing this. She's the type to let her darling escape only to dash his hopes by recapturing him. She's fascinated with the physical, mental, and emotional limitations of her Bruce and how far she can push those limitations. All in all, she just wants to watch her beloved squirm.

Most yanderes rush with their plans to obtain their darling, but she's a lot slower and is more methodological with her approach in obtaining her love. This involves overly complicated schemes that will eventually get her Bruce. Everything she does tends to have an overarching logic to it. She'll do anything for Bruce, She'll do anything to have him in the pawn of her hand.

Now Damian isn't the sadistic or puppet master type, but he is possessive and manipulative. He doesn't like Luna making independent decisions. He wants her dependent on him and will remove all of her safety nets to do so, but their relationship will appear normal to others around them and even Luna herself. He will use Luna's trust to create wedges between her and those that will get between them. Damian is always encouraging co-dependence in any form, to small things like him brushing her hair or getting groceries for her to things not so small like supporting her financially.

Damain gets jealous over everyone, even random strangers Luna will likely never see again. Like that college student working the register? Jealous. That nice elderly man recommending a pastry? Jealous. The librarian helping Luna find a book? Jealous. He even gets jealous over Batman and Nightwing, aka Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, two adult men.

He's selfish, satisfying his own desires and whims without restraint. Acting according to what he wants rather than thinking what's best for Luna or others. He wants Luna to pamper him and gets annoyed when not given praise. Has an "I come first" attitude towards Luna. Imagine having impulsive behavior mix with all of this selfish behavior. Acting in response to his emotions, not thinking or caring for those around him, or how his actions would affect others. He's prone to erratic mood changes, to possessiveness, jealousy, overreacting, kidnapping, and murder.

He likes to keep tabs on Luna. Like the places she would go, what she's doing, and who she's associating with. One way he keeps tabs on her is by following her around without her knowing. Another way is placing a mini microphone tracker on her person and once again without her knowing. He'll also place cameras around her "house" so he can observe her 24/7.

Damian wishes to know everything possible about Luna in the hopes he can catch her eye, like when she sees the cover of the book he's reading and what do you know she's read that book too! Or Damian what's to pick up art but doesn't know how to draw, what you'll teach me? Thanks! Another reason he wants to know what she likes is so he can shower her in gifts that she'll like. He would write all he's learned in a journal so he wouldn't forget a single detail.

[awhhhflush]

The Beginning

Mob!Bucky x Reader, Steve Rogers

I'd recommend listening to this for this chapter!

Warnings (apply to the whole series): drugging, mafia/gang activity, criminal activity, age gap (reader is over the age of 18), arson, death, murder, coercion/peer pressure (non-sexual), manipulation/brainwashing, parental issues (a.k.a daddy issues), abuse of power.

Summary: When you're forced to move to a new town due to your father's "business trouble," you're likely to be left to fend for yourself, alone, and bored. You should probably try to make some friends.

Your head rests against the window pane of your father's leather adorned S-Class Mercedes Benz, thumping every now and again as he practically raced into the estate. You would have thought he'd take a more secluded approach, perhaps swaying away from using his shiniest car at 75 mph and buying the largest house on the street full in cash. You weren't complaining though. As the car slowed to a halt before the house, your eyes narrowed. This house was smaller than the previous ones - your father must be in serious "business trouble."

Your door opened with a click as you were met with the offer of Matthew's assistance. He was one of your father's favoured men when it came to your protection, but you both know he' hardly get through a staring contest, let alone a fight for your life. You stood, stretching after the 4 hour car drive from Leesville. Exhaustion from being cooped up in the back of the car for so long washed over you like a wave as Matthew lifted your luggage from the boot - one of the many benefits of having burly men working for your father was that you never had to put much effort into doing things for yourself, another being that they could arrange for the house to be fully furnished and cleaned before your arrival.

Your heels clicked against the polished white steps as you reached the front porch, stopping behind your father one of his men unlocked the door for you all. Your parents remained silent as the door was pushed open to reveal the interior of the house. Throughout the entirety of the car journey, your parents hardly spoke a word to one another too, let alone to you. Their love had a soft and strange unspoken nature, one in which many usually mistook for coldness, but your father had always been distant with you anyway. He had wanted a son, an heir to his throne, and as a woman, you could never be such a thing. By the time your mother had healed from your birth, she had grown too old to bear another child safely. Your father didn't detest you, but you knew you'd never live up to what he wanted, and the effect of that knowledge was just as harsh as the former.

As you peered over your parents' shoulders, your eyes widened. Despite the decrease in size compared to your last home, the house was actually gorgeous. The walls were painted a dusted cream, almost sun kissed in a way. The floors were light wood panelling, and the stair case twisted and curved to reach the second floor, which had walls painted a shade ever so slightly darker and warmer in tone than the walls down stairs. The pure and bright interior design was almost curious, considering your father's usual dark and sharp decoration requests. Catching a glimpse of your mother's faint smile told you that this time, the decorating was not per your father's desires, but hers instead. You father's eyes warmed in a way that did so only for his wife as he looked at her. See: unspoken. She needed not to thank him, because the quirk in her lip said enough. You smiled fondly as your eyes looked between your parents, a stab of jealousy rushing through your chest as you wondered where love like that could be found.

When your parents entered the house, you followed behind them eagerly, excited to see what your room would be like. Admittedly, it was a bit embarrassing for a girl of your age and wealth to be living with her parents still, but given your father's work situation, it would be too dangerous for you to live alone, unprotected. Turning to close the door behind you, you momentarily locked eyes with one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Although he was relatively far away, his features were perfectly defined. His jaw was brushed with the faintest of stubble, his jawline sharp enough to cut open your finger if you dared to touch it. His eyes were a piercing shade of blue, stopping you in your tracks as your grip on the door handle faltered. As your mother called your name, you were snapped back to reality, turning once more to look at the man, leaning against his door frame, hands in his pockets and knitted sweater clinging to his muscles, before closing the door and making your way upstairs.

You hadn't noticed, in your flustered panic, the smirk that fell upon his lips and the darkness that settled in his eyes as he watched you retreat into the house.

[hetalia-club]

Stark Family Tree

This is only immediate family.

House Stark

Not my favorite house at all. But they are the subject of the main character of my main story in my AU.

Why exactly does Ivan think Peter is his bastard? Well probably because Amelia told him that, why did she do that? She's not even totally sure. She also told him that he was never born and she drank moon tea to get rid of it. Which is what she was SUPPOSED to do with Arthur’s kid but she didn't really feel like it. She lives for creating unnecessary drama in her life and pinning powerful men against each other and watching them fight over her like rabid dogs a girl needs a hobby I guess. Not like she can play Nintendo or something.

Not to mention if he just thought about it logically for a second, which is asking a lot here. He would realize the time lines don't even add up. But 'not using their brains' is what got both he and Arthur into this situation. Poor Amelia just wants to go to Essos...just someone drop her off there already and forget about her she causes so many problems. Abandon her in the Dothraki Sea she would be fine. She would be married to a Khal in a week and have them all convinced she’s their moon goddess. She would be fine.

Lovino actually doesn't care about any of this and he's off at Casterly Rock dicking around. Which is his favorite thing to do.

Now I can explain this situation a little bit. Amelia was engaged to Arthur first. 2 years ago before the story starts he snuck her away one night and took her sailing, this is where Peter comes from. When he was born her father shipped him away to Pyke to 'hide her shame' assuming when they got married they could just brush it under the rug and legitimize him and then no one would care. Which she was very upset about as you can imagine. She did get to name him at least before they sent him away. She would ask Arthur about him a lot in letters. This left Arthur at an Impasse, he had zero desire to raise a kid. But allowed Peter to just exist in his house basically because he was his key to Amelia. She started showing a lot more interest in him romantically when he had her son at his house.

After Arthur broke a treaty her father called off their engagement and set her up with Lovino Tyrell. Amelia didn't want to marry him because she thinks he's boring and instead started messing around with her cousin Ivan because she really just wants to fly his dragon across the sea. So she sets up this whole murder plot to kill his sister and Ivan is dragging his feet about actually doing it afraid for you know 'getting caught' which is a very big deal and would end them both being killed. So, Irritated with that Amelia starts up sending love letters to Arthur. I mean she doesn't actually mean what she's writing in them and it's more just to get him worked up and make him mad. Again she just wants his boats. Om her side that’s all this is and all it’s ever been, while Arthur genuinely believes she is madly in love with him and revels in it. He does not necessarily ‘love’ her in the traditional sense and she is mostly a status piece for him. She very beautiful and a lot of the high lords want her as matches for their sons, so it’s like a “haha look who I have” type thing for him. He does think she’s beautiful and he does think he’s in love with her. But again it’s more of an obsession than actual love. So she sets up an elaborate kidnapping for herself by him. He takes her away to Pyke. He wants to get married basically the second she steps off the ship and she just rolls with it. But she kind of hates him a little bit because he's a prick and always drunk but he's a pirate so what can you expect. But he's also like crazy about her, like actually crazy. Like 'If you try and leave me I'll lock you in a cell, but don't worry it would be a nice cell.' crazy. So now she's stuck there. Too bad so sad, play stupid games win stupid prizes. But she is pretty happy to have her son back, so that’s one win I guess.

[nkirukaj]

Our Renaissance (7)

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing, Racially Degrading Language, 1920s Slang

Genre: ANGST (& Humor!)

Word Count: 2.3K

1935

She’d heard them. They kept her up at night. 

For the past two years, she’d been afraid to fall asleep. Every night it was the same dream. She had no desire to continue reliving her husband’s death on a loop. But it was in her dreams that she found a detail that she’d overlooked in that moment. She’d heard them. The sound of two men running away. Perhaps they’d heard her wails and realized their mistake, or perhaps it was no accident at all. This time she decided to sleep, she decided to relive that moment once more, for the sake of Alastor, herself, and justice.

She loved her babies, but she couldn’t look at them without thinking of her husband. They were four years old now, so they had no memories of their father, like she did. She envied them, envied the way that they could live without grief and act as if he’d never existed at all because to them he didn’t. Sure for a while afterward they cried when they couldn’t get their daddy to hold them, but those memories were quickly erased with ones where Mommy was the only one to call for. They could speak now, and they never called for their daddy.

But Vera did. When she lay awake at night silently screaming and sobbing. She’d become numb, only taking care of her children as a shell of her former self. Her body did what it needed, while her mind was long gone.

When he didn’t show up at the radio station, they asked and questioned her why, but quickly replaced his segment with someone white, which Vera thought that they were itching to do anyway. No departure speech, no announcements, nothing. Like the babies, it’s as if he never existed to them at all.

The worst part of it? Lying to May. 

She’d gotten used to her son’s frequent visits and after a few weeks of not hearing from him on the phone or having him visit in person, she’d come over to see him. Vera had told her that he wasn’t there and when she’d asked where he was Vera had a choice to make. Either tell his mother that her son is dead and then have to explain how and why that happened, thereby sullying her view of her baby forever, or lie and say that he just left them, leaving his mother to wonder for the rest of her life what had gone wrong and why he would ever do that. May knew how much he loved his wife, so it would never make sense to her that he would leave her, but that was better than her knowing that her son was a killer.

“May,” she spoke flatly, “I think a visit to their grandmother is quite overdue,”

“Of course!” She reaches out for the children “Come here babies!” They waddle over to her, hugging her legs. 

“Take care of them May,” Vera speaks over her shoulder “They deserve it.”

“Of course,” she said with a confused look in her eye “Hey Vera,” she called after the younger mother

Vera turns to acknowledge her

“He will come back, I know my son. He would never just abandon you,”

Vera gives her a small smile “Thank you for your hope, May. I just want you to know that I think that you’re a brilliant mother and a phenomenal woman all around,”

May gives her a humble smile before waving her goodbye and going inside with the children. 

Vera had spent the past two years looking for those men. Those men that killed her husband and then fled like cowards. To be honest, she had nothing and no one to go off of other than the men who frequented this hunting ground, and there were many. It was a quite popular spot for hunting. So she began hunting herself. Some found it odd to see her there day in and day out and did not cease commenting on it, but this was important to her. Though every day, she scouted and spoke to each man who hunted alongside her, they never felt right. They never felt like Alastor’s murderers, and then it hit her. The piece that she had been missing this whole time. 

Alastor was killed at night.

All along she had been looking in the right place but at the wrong time.

The next night she stalked the hunting grounds thoroughly and quietly finding only two men around that time. Would it have been more ideal to have evidence? Yes. However, her gut told her she’d found the men, and at that point, that was enough for her.

She took her time dropping her gun and herself, making as much noise as possible as she fell. They came running over and asked what she was doing and if she was all right. She came up with a story about learning how to hunt, but being too embarrassed to hunt during the day.

“Are you Vera Bates? Well, it’s an honor to meet you! Shouldn’t your husband be out here helping you? What kind of man would let his wife out like this at night,”

She begins stroking the gun “Unfortunately I do not have a husband to teach me. I’m a widow,” she bats her lashes “Would you two like to come over and show me some tips?”

He smirks “Well of course,”

These men were insufferable. They were loud, crass, and even though she made it seem like she wanted something sexual, their comments were lewd and crude.

“And like a year or two ago, we was hunting out in the dark, like usual and I’m pretty sure we killed a man!”

Vera’s eyes and ears perked up “Oh?”

“Got right between the eyes,”

His partner laughed “I was just surprised by his good aim!”

“I was like damn! If only that was an animal!”

“He was!” they begin cackling

Vera turns to the quieter one “What do you mean by that?”

He settles down “Well, I’m sure he was colored, but he doesn’t believe me,” he points to his louder friend

“Now, why would a colored man be outside that time of night? That’s just dumb if he was!”

The blood in Vera’s skull boiled, and her skin turned physically hot. She slaps the table and stands

“If you’d like, I could refresh your beers for you,” she says with a smile

“Well thank you, doll!” he and his comrades cackle with drunkenness, slapping her ass as she walks past.

Once she arrives in the kitchen, she removes two more beers from the fridge and pops them open, staring out the window behind the sink. She opens the kitchen drawer and places a knife on the counter. Alastor’s voice rang in her ears.

I would kill for you. I would die for you

And I for you, my love she thought, entering the kitchen drawer and gripping her meat mallet. Her grip loosens for a moment when she thinks of her babies. So young, soft, and innocent. 

They don’t deserve a killer for a mother.

She grabs the meat mallet tight and rejoins the men in the room.

“How long does it take to refresh a beer, honey?” He yells then begins laughing with his partner “Women, am I right?” they cackle

Then suddenly half the laughter stops as his partner falls to the floor unconscious. The man drunkenly looks up “Huh?” the last thing he sees is Vera raising the meat mallet over her head, and swings, ready to tenderize.

When they awaken they’re back at the hunting grounds, but they’re tied up and they each have concussions.

“Woo!” Vera says, walking into their line of sight “You two are heavy! It took me about an hour each to drag y’all out here! Lucky for me you’re both blockheads and stayed knocked out”

“What’s going on??” Vera shrugs “Well, I’ll be honest. You’re both going to die tonight,” The men’s squirming became much more intense and they flopped their bodies all around “So remember that ‘colored’ man you bragged about accidentally shooting?” She plays with the knife in her hands “How do you know who I am,” she paces in front of them “But don’t know enough to know” She stops as they squirm in their restraints “That he was my husband?” She grins maniacally 

“You said you didn’t have a husband!”

“I also said I was a widow! And that’s because of YOU!” She pulls out her knife and drags it across the palm of her glove “So now I’m going to kill you,”

“You’re a crazy bitch!” he spits out

She nods “Yes.” she walks over to him “But that’s your fault. For not having better aim. You killed my husband and you made me crazy.” She steps on his dick, hearing it crunch underneath her boot. He screams out in pain. “So here’s what’s going to happen okay?” she points to herself with the knife “This little Sheba is going to make you suffer. And then kill you like you killed my husband. By ‘accident’” She uses quotes, before plunging the knife into the man’s leg, twisting it in deep, and dragging it down as he bellows in agony. She’s indifferent to his screams before shoving dirt and a rock into his mouth.

“God shut up.” She spits in annoyance, moving over and doing the same to his silent partner “Today my husband would have been 35,” she stabs them both in the stomach, then the eyes, then in both of their hands. “I wonder if you’ll meet us, down in Hell,” she says before taking her gun out and shooting them both in the head.

Afterward, Vera goes home and takes a bath, burns her clothes, and gets dressed in her finest gown.

“Hello?” She asks the police on the telephone “Yes, this is Vera Bates and I’d like to report a murder,”

When they arrive she opens the door, gun in hand, and waves it at the police.

“Drop your weapon!’ The policemen call out, but she doesn’t. Instead, Vera cracks a smirk and raises her middle fingers on both hands.

“Shoot me!” she cackles before a bullet hits her right in the chest, and everything goes black.

When she wakes up, everything is red. The sky, the ground, and the buildings. Looked an awful lot like a city. Something like Brooklyn. When she looks down at herself in a puddle, she sees that she now has short red hair, and brow deer ears on top of her head. White deer spots all over her face, and was covered in freckles. Surprisingly, she was unsurprised. She wandered around for weeks before ending up in the right place. The right place, to hear…A voice on the radio.

First, there was a scream of bloody murder that went on for about 2 minutes when it finished, there was a voice that spoke.

“This has been brought to you by ‘The Radio Demon’. Well hello, you wayward sinners, that was another reminder of who I am. I may be new to Hell but certainly do not cross me.”

Vera knew that accent anywhere, it may have been phony, but it was distinctly him.

“Excuse me, where is the radio station? I need to find the Radio Demon,”

“You must be one crazy bitch,

“Yes,”

Finding the station was the easy part, but working up the courage is go inside was hard. What would he think of her? Would he remember her? Would he even be happy to know that she’s there? Would he recognize her? All those thoughts running through her head, when the door to the station opened, and a 7ft tall demon with deer ears part of his red, fading to black hair and antlers on top of his head, a red coat and shirt with black pants exited. She didn’t know what she expected to see, she supposed she expected him to look the same, though she didn’t, why would he? 

One thing about him that was striking, was a bright yellow smile at the bottom of his face. He almost ran into her and she felt the annoyance through his eyes, but his smile never faltered.

“Can I help you?” he asked, so no he didn’t recognize her

“Alastor,” she said very breathy-like, his name was all she could get out.

“Yes?” 

She stares up at him through her lashes, tears threatening her composure “You killed for me, you would die for me,”

His eyes soften behind his red-tinted monocle, he reaches up and caresses her face “Vera?”

She nods and tears begin to fall from her eyes. he puts his hands on her shoulders

“What about the twins?”

“I left them with your mother,

He nods, understanding “They’ll turn out much better than I did,”

They stand quietly staring at each other, hands lightly brushing over each other’s skin, as if each of them could not believe that the other was real, here, and in front of them. Vera breaks the silence.

“You broke your promise,” she told him as he held her in his arms

“I know. I hope you will forgive me ma chérie.”

“Never leave me again,”

“Down here, that is a promise I can keep.”

“Then I forgive you.”

“‘Til death do us part,”

“And even after that,”

Epilogue

“I just think it’s something interesting to think about.”

“Well my dear, I like to think we’d end up down here, together. No matter what”

Voe turns her head to look at her partner, knowing deep down in her bones that he was right. That in every universe and every timeline, whether it be New York City, New Orleans, or even manmade; this destiny was written in the stars for them. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

THE END

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Cutting in line

Harry Winther, 16th Earl of Bleicester, had been born with just about everything else. He had the title, the land, the wealth - as much as any of his peers, and several factors more than most. He divided his time between the estate in the country - vast enough to be a country of it own - and the palace in Town - flogged off by some profligate regent of generations past - but spent all of it longing for the one thing that he lacked. The crown he desired above all else.

Harry came from an old family, but it had mostly run in parallel to the one which counted. If there was royal blood in those veins, it flowed a long way from the heart; if he appeared on the palace family tree, it was as a distant appendage, having diverged a long way back. He would need to climb up a lot of branches to get to the one with his name dangling from its end. He had all of the trappings, but not the thing that made them count.

It was frustrating. In terms of sheer force - both men-at-arms and financial might - he was the most powerful man in the country. But there would always be that golden ceiling, a gap that no amount of self-improvement could bridge. His third cousins kept having third children, and at today's count he was 184th in line to the throne. It might be 185th by tomorrow. Harry was a patient man, but he'd wanted this his whole life, and it only seemed to get further away.

"They princes are young," he said, convincing himself as much as Sir Rupert, one of his cavalry offices and personal guard. "We can easily capture them when they visit, and I'll proclaim myself king in their place."

It was a bold statement, treasonous, but enough was enough. He hadn't minded bowing to the old king, who was at least his peer. But the royal stock seemed to be increasingly watered down. The king's second wife, as regent to their snot-nosed child? Their son grown up, somehow even more snotty as a man? His daughter, a sickly thing who'd somehow lived for long enough to marry and spawn more useless heirs? Her sons, literal children? It was humiliating, to prostrate himself before someone so small they'd still be able to look him in the eye.

Sir Rupert seemed unconvinced. "Pardon, my lord, but what about the Duchess of Sotherton, their great-aunt? She would surely be next in the succession if... if some tragedy were to befall them."

"Fine, we'll just have to get her out of the way too. The Sothertons have grown soft of late. They barely have a household guard."

"And the family? All 26 of them?" His scepticism only increased. "Forgive me, my lord, but some of them are settled overseas. To tear them out, root and stem, would be quite the undertaking."

Harry sighed. He was a man in possession of a great many things, but he seemed to be flush with cousins most of all. They seemed to multiply: once, twice, three times removed, and he might not be able to remove them fast enough. "Fine, I get your point. If we were to do this, how many would we need to... prune?"

"Regretfully, my lord... you're 184th in line. Including the young princes, there are 183 ahead of you."

"Right." He knew that. "Let's see that as an advantage, eh? If I'm that far behind, they'll all have their backs to me. This far away, nobody would see the push coming."

"Those further down the line might catch on, my lord. After the first hundred murders or so."

"Well, let's make sure to start from the other end. That'd be the clever was to do it, right? Target the bottom of the list and work up; try to make them look like accidents where possible. Nobody at the top will pay attention until it's too late - and we can then finish off with the princes, with me already in place as their heir."

"Ah... there was one other thing, my lord."

"What now?"

"Begging your pardon, but I'm 142nd in the succession. From Queen Elspeth's line, I believe. I'm actually second cousins with the Viscount Northrop."

"You're higher than me?" Harry rubbed his temples. The humiliation wouldn't end. He knew that bloodlines didn't follow rank, but it felt like it should still count for something. "Fine, fine, very good. Thank you Sir Rupert, you're excused. Just send in the lieutenant on your way out. I, er, just have a quick favour to ask him."

"He's even further in the line than I am, my lord," Sir Rupert said, anticipating his request. "A lot of the officers are. It's seen as an honourable posting for third sons from noble families."

"I see." Harry sunk back into the chair which would never be a throne, and ran a hand over his uncrowned scalp. "Well, thank you anyway."

"If I may, my lord?"

"Please." He waved a derisory hand. "By all means, pile on even more bad news."

"You will never be the prince's heir, I am sorry to say. The numbers are too great. But there is another option."

"I'm not going to marry them, if that's your thinking."

"No, but you could welcome them under your wing. Protect them, guide them; give them the benefit of your strength and experience. They don't need an heir, not yet, but they do need a father figure."

"You think I could serve as regent?"

"As mentor, at the minimum. Be the voice they turn to for advice. Don't ask to be their heir, or plot to replace them. That ship has sailed. But if it's your legacy you care for, you could certainly make them yours."