#hmmm couldn't remember if this got addressed

[kittyball23]

Chewed (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Poppy confronts her father and her boyfriend on a matter that’s been bugging her

A/N: Requested by @webslingerofthegalaxy :)

__________________________________________

“Alright, folks, what'll it be tonight?”

While Poppy, Branch, and Viva were quick to reply to Bruce’s query with their orders of fricassee squid, jellyfish sliders, and nachos, Peppy took a minute for himself, humming thoughtfully at the menu in his hands.

“Hmmm… those fried clams sound delicious!” he said finally, with a nod to confirm his order.

But Bruce grimaced. “Oof, yeah, sorry I forgot to mention it, but you're not gonna wanna order those, trust me.” Then, with a dramatic lowering of his voice to a hushed whisper, he added, “Don't ask why.”

The former Pop King looked confused for a moment, but then shrugged it off. “Ah well, alright. I guess I'll take the menudo instead.”

Bruce beamed as he grabbed the menus. “Ah, much better! You'll love it. Be right back with everything, alright!”

The four watched as the purple-haired Troll scurried back to the kitchen to assist his wife with the meals, and then they turned to each other.

“Huh… I wonder what the deal is with those clams?” Viva wondered aloud.

Poppy shrugged. “Don't know! But, hopefully he won't keep it a secret for long.” The Pop Queen ensured to put emphasis on the word secret, shooting a glance at her boyfriend and her father and hoping that they caught her drift. There was something she had been meaning to address with the two of them, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring it up.

But, as it was, neither one of them had taken notice. Branch and King Peppy’s gazes had drifted towards the karaoke stage, where their attention was taken by a performer's rendition of “Vacation.”

Viva’s face lit. “Ooo, I love this song!” she exclaimed. Then, getting an idea, she turned to Peppy. “Daddy, we should all go on there next!”

King Peppy, however, kindly declined, waving a hand. “Oho, no dear, I couldn't.”

“Sure you could!” Viva encouraged. “Poppy, Branch, and I did just the other day! Right?”

“Uh-huh!” the pink Troll agreed, while the blue nodded.

“And you all were wonderful,” Peppy complimented. “But, I'm afraid I can't sing and dance the way you and your band do,” he explained. “And besides… I've already thrown my back out one too many times in the morning songs as it is!” He admitted it with a sheepish grin, rubbing where the ache still lingered.

Viva pouted a little, but Peppy offered her reassurance. “But don't worry - I'll be right in the front row, cheering you on. I wouldn't miss one of your performances for the world!”

Viva grinned and nudged her sister. “Remember how excited you got when Branch asked you to join the band?” she giggled.

“Uh, yeah! How can I forget!” Poppy exclaimed, shooting a grateful glance at her boyfriend.

Branch chuckled. “Yeah, neither can I.” 

“And me neither!” Peppy pitched in, putting one of his hands on his heart, and the other on Branch’s shoulder. “My boy, you nearly startled me out of my wits! If I hadn't known any better, I would've thought your ‘proposal’ would have ended differently.”

“You mean like my sis and Branch getting married?” Viva blurted gleefully. Her words caused the pink and blue Trolls to grow bashful, and Peppy's eyes to widen. Viva rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, is it really that weird now? I've already planned out the flower colors for your bouquet, you know!”

Poppy gasped. “Viva!”

“Sis, you know it's gonna happen one day! Don't act so surprised!”

Poppy did little more than blush, and Branch cleared his throat, noticing how awkward King Peppy was looking. “Well, only if you will approve, sir,” Branch said respectfully.

King Peppy suddenly looked guilty and sighed. “Of course I do, my boy. And I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise. I guess it's just… I can't believe my little girl has already grown up so fast!”

“Tell me about it!” Viva shouted. “The last time I saw her she was so teeny weeny!” she giggled, showcasing the size with her hands.

“Yes,” King Peppy laughed, smiling at both his daughters. He then continued, addressing Branch. “You’ll make a fine partner for my Poppy. And an excellent king, too!”

Branch cocked his head, pleasantly surprised to hear this. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Peppy replied without hesitation. “Why, you remind me much of myself!”

The blue Troll glowed. “Um… how?” he asked curiously.

“Maybe how you both like to keep secrets from me?”

This time, Poppy’s statement did not go unnoticed by Peppy or Branch. Both Trolls turned to her, coming face-to-face with the sudden stern expression she wore on her face.

“Huh?” Branch practically squeaked.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” she chided. “You said nothing about being in not just one, but TWO super amazing boybands! I have every single record of BroZone and Kismet!”

Branch tried to stammer a response. “Well, I, um… you see, it’s just that - “

“And then, to top it off, you don’t tell me that you had FOUR brothers? Oh no, not one, not, two, not even three - but FOUR?!”

“Well, um…” Branch tried again, “Yooouu… didn’t tell me you had a sister!” he defended, gesturing at Viva.

“I didn’t know!” Poppy exclaimed. “Wanna know why I didn’t know?!” She crossed her arms at her father, who wished he could pull a hocus-pocus and disappear right then and there.

Viva cast Peppy nearly the same identical look Poppy was giving him. “She’s got a point, Dad. Poppy had no clue who I was when we met up again!”

“Yeah! That's just like when you didn’t tell me about all the other music tribes!”

Peppy put his hands up and waved them in a calming motion. “Poppy, darling, you know I'm incredibly regretful for not having told you either one of those things. I was just trying - “

“To protect me,” Poppy finished at the same time he did. She let the initial disappointment in her Dad fizzle away so she could give him a sincere look. “Dad, I love you… and, as a family, I want us to be honest with each other, no matter how scary or painful or downright shocking the truth might be! We can work through it… okay?” She opened her arms for him, and he leaned towards her so they could share a hug.

“Yes, Poppy. I'm so sorry…”

This time, Poppy giggled. “You don't have to keep apologizing, Dad. I've forgiven you, like, a dozen times!”

“Right, yes,” he mumbled rather meekly, and then straightened himself out. They smiled at each other, and then Poppy glared at Branch.

“Now. As for you…”

Branch sighed. “You're right, Poppy. As a friend, and girlfriend, I trust you. I'll open up to you more, I promise… is there anything I can do to make up for the secrets I did keep?”

Poppy liked this question, and pretended to tap her chin and give it deep thought. “Hmmm… well, you could let me have a couple bites of the sliders you ordered…” she said.

But Branch could tell there was more she wanted to add to that. “And?” he prompted.

She batted her lashes and whispered. “...And also maybe give me a kiss?”

Her boyfriend’s eyes widened. “In front of your Dad?”

Having been in earshot, Peppy chuckled. “Branch, there's nothing to worry about. You two are in love.” He gestured his hand out, as if saying, “Now, go on with it!”

So Branch did. He kissed Poppy sweetly, Peppy looking on proudly and Viva tucking her hands under her chin while gushing.

“Awwww, that’s exactly how I imagine your wedding smooch to be!” the golden-curled Troll squealed.

“Viva!”

“STOP DENYING WHAT’S TRUE, SIS!!”

[bananadrinkxxx]

THE BLOOD CROWN (19)

[Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character ! I fem!reader]

[Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers / Revenge]

Content for adults. 18+

[warnings: smut, sex content, dark romance, angst, fights, domination, murder]

[description: Aemond Targaryen meets his niece under a different name and falls in love with her without knowing that she is supposed to be his enemy.]

PART 19

warning, very long chapter. 5.5K+

"Come here, my sweet daughter,"she heard in the cold darkness, it bounced off invisible walls and returned to her.  "Come to me."

Come to me...

She saw nothing. She felt nothing. And yet she saw everything and felt everything. She felt a touch on her head, someone gently running their fingers through her hair. Who was that? The fingers were soft and left a pleasant tingling sensation.

"Look here," a boy's voice suddenly said, laughing. Children's laughter. "Come back..."

She looked.

She saw nothing.

Where was she? She felt weightless.

"Here, for you," she heard him say again and suddenly had a paper figure in her hands. What was it?

"I miss you..."

I miss you too. Who are you?

She looked again at the figure, which suddenly moved. A white dragon was looking at her, proud and graceful, a feeling of royalty. She felt her heartbeat, pulsing in the dark room. The dragon was beautiful.

"Everything will be fine," a woman's voice rang out, and suddenly there were flames everywhere. It was so hot, so hot. It was licking at her skin, the flames calling to her, calling to her. 

"Why is he so sad, Mother?" a girl voice said. 

"He fought back and still got blamed."

"Hmmm, that doesn't sound nice."

Suddenly the white dragon was burning in her hands and suddenly she screamed. The scream was deafening and the scream struck her to the core. It shattered her ears and made her blood quiver. The dragon was burning like a torch, it could hardly be stopped and all she felt was cold. Cold hands. That reached for her and held her tight. She couldn't escape and no matter how hard she fought, she had no chance.

She felt tears on her face. Her fingertips touched her cheek. Wet.

It hurt so much.

Everything hurt so much.

"Remember" she heard her own voice suddenly sounding so foreign.

"Remember."

It was all so hopeless. So hopeless. She was alone. So alone.

She saw the fire, she felt the fire and suddenly everything was dark.

. . . .

Aemond stared at her pale, sleeping body. He had his eye focused on her chest, watching it rise and fall. He made sure she was breathing and leaned back wearily. It was his fault she was lying there. He looked at the injury, which was encased in several bandages. When the dagger had hit her, he had feared the worst. There had been blood everywhere, but it had not only been hers, but also that of his attacker. He had not hesitated and had stabbed several times at the man who had dared to violate that which was his. It was only when Ser Criston had entered his chamber and managed to calm him down that he had realized what a bloodbath he had caused. He had just stood there motionless, staring at Rose lying lifeless on his bed, coated in her own blood. He no longer knew what he had been thinking at that moment. Aemond had heard Criston talking to him over and over again while other servants took care of Rose.

He felt so powerless. Like a failure. The feeling pulsed through his veins, painfully reminding him of who he once was.

"Take the girl to the maesters," Criston ordered, then looked back at Aemond, who took a step forward as they grabbed women and men Rose.

"Don't," he breathed, his voice alert.

"They will help her, Aemond." Only in retrospect had he noticed that Criston had not addressed him by his title. But that did not matter to him. Nothing mattered. ROse was hurt and it was his fault for being too careless, too naive, too weak. He should have made sure the man was dead. She was lying there in bed only because of him. Almost dead. He would never forgive himself.

He always acted as if it was all about the physicality between them. About what he could do with her innocent, warm body. He had convinced himself that she had no meaning for him. That he treated her like any other maid and that she helped him with bathing and dressing. But now there was no turning back. He felt how Rose had taken over his head, his mind and his body and the idea frightened him. He felt weak. She followed his orders with a care, satisfaction and devotion, there was nothing to criticize about her, but in the end he had become her servant. He would do anything for her.

He never had enough.

Her body was perfect for him, but he could have gotten pleasure from other woman. Rose had another meaning for him.

A meaning that made him aware at that moment how weak he was. He felt weak. So useless and weak.

It was like when he was a little boy. He hated that feeling. He didn't want to feel it. He wasn't weak, but his feelings for Rose made him weak. He had vowed never to be weak again. Not to give anyone that power over him, as his nephews or even his own brother had then.

. . . .

Alys flinched as his gaze locked on her. The corner of Lary's mouth pulled up, a sense of power coursing through him, and he leaned against his desk, his hands resting on his walking stick as he surveyed Alys. She looked down at the floor, playing with her fingers. She looked uncertain and intimidated. These girls were his favorite. The insecure and scared ones who didn't know their place in the world. Alys was older, still younger than him, but she was already Queen Alicent's age. The thought of Queen Alicent made his smile widen. Also a young and intimidated thing, which he had been able to manipulate with little effort. She was more mature and wiser now, but she had never lost her naiveté.

"I expected more, Alys," he began, watching her wince. "I would have thought you were more skilled at these things, but your competitor seems to have been more successful."

Alys looked helplessly at him. "I did what I could. He seemed suspicious. Not interested, maybe."

"He likes women like you."

Larys let his gaze glide over her figure. A pretty face, a bit older but still pretty and a flawless body. There was nothing visually objectionable about her.

"I did what I could, my lord," she whispered, looking at the floor. My Lord. Larys loved that sound. Yes, he was her lord now. And her half-brother, but Alys was just a bastard and had no meaning to him. She served purely for the usefulness he associated with her.

"I guess it wasn't enough, which makes me wonder," he stood up. "Whether you're even useful to me anymore."

Alys looked up startled and shook her head in near panic. She was a pretty little thing. Larys loved the look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder. I will succeed," she promised, and as Larys stood in front of her, he raised his hand. She flinched as if she thought he would hit her, but he didn't hit women. He was a man of honor.

"I hope so, sweet Alys," he said warningly, yet lovingly. His hand stroked her soft cheek. "Make sure that girl stays out of my way, or I'll have to take action."

No one was allowed to stand between him and his plan. And who was this simple-minded thing anyway, this unimportant bastard who served only the purpose of lust. He would get rid of this girl, either one way or the other.

. . . .

When Rose woke up, at first she felt nothing. It was like being enveloped in a cloud, as if she were floating. For a brief moment she didn't know where she was, what had happened, before she remembered. A terror ran through her and she tried to sit up, but a sharp pain held her back.

She cried out. The pain coursed through her entire body.

"You have to be careful," an unfamiliar female voice warned her and Rose too to the side, to a woman with dark hair and green eyes. She was older than her, but the maturity in her face made her look more womanly. The stranger looked at her seriously. "You were hurt badly."

She gently pushed Rose back into bed.

"Who are you?" asked Rose hesitantly, and the woman smiled.

"My name is Alys. I'm new here and I'm taking care of your wounds," Alys explained to her, examining Rose's wound, which was covered by bandages.

"You mustn't move too frantically or you'll reopen the wound."

"I thought I was going to die," Rose confessed, following Alys' gaze. Alys nodded.

"You almost were. You were just lucky the dagger didn't hit anything vital. A finger's width farther to the right and it would have hit your heart. It's just a deep flesh wound."

Rose swallowed. "How long have I been lying here?"

"At least seven days. But I think even longer. You were awake from time to time, but you had a strong fever."

"How is Aemond?," the mistake had not occurred to her until she had already spoken his name, but if Alys had noticed she was addressing Aemond by his first name, she did not let it show.

"The prince is unharmed, thank the gods."

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. She looked to the side and spotted the vase of white roses sitting on the table beside her. She smiled.

"Was he here?" she asked hopefully.

Alys looked at her in surprise. She twitched her eyebrows and dipped a rag into the bucket of water beside her to dab at Rose's forehead. The cool wetness did her good. It made her feel alive again.

"Prince Aemond?" asked Alys in wonder. "He hasn't been here, Rose. Not once."

Rose couldn't ignore the stab in her heart. He hadn't visited her? Not even checked on her? She couldn't imagine Aemond caring so little about her, but then she wondered what significance she even had to the prince. And why would Alys lie? She had no reason to.

"The sight of me must have been unsightly," her voice trembled and Alys surveyed her insistently. Her gaze was unpleasant, as if nothing was hidden from her.

She said nothing.

"Then who are the flowers from?"

Alys looked at the flowers. "They are from Prince Daeron. He asked me to inform him as soon as you were awake." She stood up. "I will now obey that instruction. Get some rest, dear Rose. You will need the rest. I will send for the maester."

With these words Alys said goodbye and left the room.

Left behind was an injured Rose, who did not know what was worse, the injury caused by the dagger or the sting in her heart caused when Alys revealed to her that Aemond had not checked on her. That must have been a misunderstanding. Aemond would not abandon her, would he? She wasn't imagining her special connection, was she? Maybe Alys hadn't seen him. What she and Aemond had was special. She felt it. She knew it. He felt more for her, just as she felt more for him.

He had captured her heart and in that moment Rose realized that she loved this man. She had been willing to die for him and she would do it again.

. . . .

Alicent watched her son. It pained her to see him like this. She saw him training with Ser Criston and repeatedly striking the poor man with his sword, which he could only fend off with difficulty. He looked angry and upset. Since the assassination attempt on him, he seemed like a different person.

She heard him murmuring next to her and looked at her daughter, who was looking out of the window with bleak and tired eyes. Helaena seemed like a lifeless doll and it pained Alicent to see her daughter like that. She wouldn't eat, she refused to eat, and Alicent watched her daughter grow thinner day by day. She looked like a shadow of herself, eaten away and tormented by guilt that would probably never leave her. No matter what Alicent said, no matter how much she tried to cheer her daughter up, to encourage her or absolve her of her guilt, Helaena responded to nothing. Not even Aemond managed to get through to her and Aegon, as always, was no help.

But this murmuring, this murmuring was new. Since the attack on her and her children, Helaena had said nothing.

That night she had thought that she and her child would die. Then she would never see her grandchildren again. She had expected death. Expected it.

But then the servant whom her son Daeron had brought, and to whom she had attached little importance, had come and saved her.

She was not one to forget such a thing, but her connection with Aemond displeased her. It was not according to his status and she saw her son changing.

"Did you say something, my dear child?" asked Alicent hopefully, walking up to Helaena, who suddenly looked at her, her eyes fixed on her. Alicent tried to touch her, but her daughter only flinched.

"Dead and dragon's blood. In fire it will be revealed.Dragon blood will prove it, will crown it, will reveal what is obvious. The white dragon will not survive, but its ashes will rise and burn everything down."

Alicent did not understand. "Helaena what-"

"Dragon blood will prove it. In fire it will be revealed. The medal will change sides," Helaena suddenly hissed, her eyes preternaturally large. "And its ashes will rise and burn everything to the ground." There was a change in her voice. She almost seemed like a different person.

Her daughter's words were confusing, almost frightening, and she didn't know if it scared her more that Helaena was having her episodes again and that she didn't understand what the young woman was talking about. Helaena was shaking all over. She was dissolved and seemed lost.

"In fire it is revealed..."

In fire it is revealed.

. . . . 

Alys had come to him immediately when the girl had woken up. He had known immediately what to do.

Unfortunately, the stupid woman had gone to a maester first of all. She prettier than intelligent.

"Maester Ervin," Larys said as the maester came out of the girl's room. He seemed surprised to see Larys standing there, and looked at him in irritation.

He had been waiting for him.

"Lord Strong," the maester greeted him and bowed.

"I'm surprised to see you here."

"Yes?" asked Larys with an undercurrent of played wonder. "Why?"

"I didn't expect to see you here," the maester confessed. "Are you here for the girl?"

Larys nodded with a smile. "Why?

"Isn't she our heroine? She defended Prince Aemond with her life. I wanted to inquire about her condition."

The maester nodded, believing his words.

"The wound is healing well. It is only a flesh wound. Both are unharmed."

Larys raised an eyebrow and took a step closer.

"Both of them?" It wasn't what he thought, was it? The maester looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry, I thought that was familiar. I'm new here. The girl is expecting a child."

Larys took a deep breath. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind and his head began to ache at the explosion these thoughts left in him. The girl was pregnant? He needed to calm down. He couldn't let his anxiety show.

Her pregnancy threatened to destroy everything. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't accept that. The girl was about to ruin everything. She was carrying a bastard under her heart. This child was not allowed to exist. She was not allowed to exist.

"Queen Alicent asked me for information about the girl's condition. It was important to her that the girl be well. Forgive me, my lord. I must tell Queen Alicent," the maester said and was about to move forward, but Larys stood in his way and shook his head. The maester raised an eyebrow and Larys put his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. He smiled.

"Queen Alicent is busy with more important matters at the moment. I will tell her at the appropriate moment."

"I thank you, but-"

"I am the closest advisor to Alicent Hightower. You can rest assured. I will tell her that you wished to obey her order at once, you have nothing to fear."

The maester looked at him suspiciously, as if he suspected something guileful behind Larys' suggestion, but his words seemed to have convinced him, and the maester finally nodded before bowing and moving off in the other direction. Larys watched him go before his eyes turned to the door behind which Rose lay in her bed.

It would have been easy to walk into the room and press a pillow to her face, but he couldn't afford to make himself suspicious. He had to keep a cool head and think rationally. He hadn't come this far to ruin it with a rash action.

. . . .

She waited for him until late at night.

But he did not come.

She had hoped that he would come when he heard that she had woken up, but he had not shown up.

She wondered if he even knew.

Not even Daeron had come today, although Alys had said she would let him know right away. Maybe there was some trouble? They were at war. There were certainly more important things demanding their presence.

Maybe it was a good idea to surprise him? Would it make him happy if he saw her? 

She would be happy, but she realized that she knew nothing about Aemond's feelings. She didn't know what they both were, if it was just something physical for Aemond or if he felt the same way she did.

She had not hesitated to throw herself in front of him when the attacker tried to stab with the dagger. It was stupid and tired of life, she hadn't thought about the fact that she might die, basically she hadn't thought at all at that moment, but she realized she would do it again if it meant Aemond didn't get hurt.

Her hand clutched her necklace.

Was she in love with Aemond?

Had he wormed his way into her heart without her realizing it? Every thought of Aemond filled her with joy and happiness. The mere thought of him made her heart beat faster. She longed for his touch and his attention, his affection was like inner peace.

Her bare feet touched the cold floor as she stood up. She twisted her mouth as she moved her shoulder, and the wound across her chest stung painfully. The maester had told her to stay on bed rest, but she wanted to see him.

She wanted to tell him what he meant to her.

When she stepped out of her room, the corridor was empty. No one was there and Rose had lost her bearings for a moment until she found her way to Aemond's chambers. She saw the guards standing outside his door and paused. A glance down at her told her that it would not be a good idea to appear before them in this state. She had not wasted a second in her haste to go to Aemond's that she was dressed only in her nightgown.

She therefore decided to go to the side entrance. Aemond had shown it to her so that she could get to his room unseen when they made love.

Once there, Rose gently pushed open the door, anticipation rising on his surprised face, and was about to enter when she suddenly paused when she heard Prince Daeron's voice.

"She is a pretty woman," Daeron said. "She will make you happy, Aemond."

Aemond said nothing in reply. Not seeing them, she wondered for a moment if Daeron was talking only to himself.

Who were they talking about? About her? Rose smiled for a moment. Aemond had told his brother about them both?

"Do you think she's trustworthy?"

Rose's eyebrows drew together in irritation. Was Daeron really talking about her? She shared a friendship with the prince, and he knew she could be trusted. He himself had brought her here.

"That remains to be seen." She listened to Aemond's voice for the first time, but it suddenly sounded so foreign. So forbidding. Was this feeling coming over her because she hadn't heard him in so long?

"You don't seem happy about this connection."

And suddenly she didn't understand anything.

"It is my duty as Targaryen. I will fulfill my duty."

Who are these two talking about? Connection? What connection? What duty?

Rose pressed closer to the door, quietly, so that they would not know that she was listening to this conversation.

"Marrying into House Baratheon will help us advance in the fight against Rhaenyra. We need the strength of his house," Aemond continued and Rose realized they were not talking about her. Aemond was planning to get married. It hit her like a slap in the face. She no longer felt her body. Everything became cold and hot at the same time and as if someone kept hitting her head with a hammer, Rose felt a dull pain.

She felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

Was that why he hadn't visited her?

Because he had replaced her?

Because she had no meaning for him?

"But your heart lies elsewhere, does it not?"

She heard Daeron's gentle cautious question and she held her breath. Did Daeron know about her, after all? Had Aemond told about her, after all? Had he been forced into this marriage because it was a political marriage? Did she mean something to him after all? Maybe he didn't want this marriage and did it only because it was expected of him?

- It is my duty as Targaryen. I will fulfill my duty. -

He had said it was his duty. Hope arose in Rose. He wanted this union nicht. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You know who I'm talking about. I know about you and Rose. I know what happened and that on that night of the attack...that you were intimate with each other."

He knew.

Daeron knew it, but the way he phrased it, Aemond hadn't told him.

"She means something to you, doesn't she?"

Rose peered hopefully through the small gap between the room and the door. She didn't want to overhear him, she knew it was wrong, but at that moment she had a chance to get the answer to her question.

"She means nothing to me," Aemond said, and it was like a dagger being stabbed straight into her heart this time. His voice was cold and dismissive. Without any sympathy for her. Rose felt like a hand wrapped around her stomach and turned him. "She's nobody. Just a girl whose body I covet, have covet, but that comes to an end now."

"Please stop," Rose breathed softly, distraught at the words she was about to hear. She felt more tears follow.

"I have no further use for her."

It was brutal. Rose didn't know if she had ever felt such pain. It was worse than any sickness, any fear she had ever felt. It hurt like a thousand pinpricks on her skin, stabbing barbarically into her body again and again at every single stage.

His words were merciless and she wondered if he would have chosen them the same way if she had revealed her feelings to him?

Did she really mean nothing to him?

Was everything they had had a lie?

She felt like a different person.

This had to be a dream.

It was. She had yet to sleep and she would wake up in a moment to see that she had only been dreaming, but no matter how much she wished to wake up, she remained trapped in this nightmare.

She reached for her wrist and pinched the skin between her fingers, a last pathetic attempt to wake up again, but she found that everything she had just heard was reality.

She meant nothing to Aemond.

Not the slightest thing.

It was all a lie.

Dazed, she stumbled back.

She wanted to get out of here.

There was nothing more to hear. Anything more Aemond would say would only make her heart break further.

As if taken, she staggered along the corridor. She had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to get away from here. She would never be able to look him in the face again. She would not bear to be near him. In the worst case, she would even have to watch him float through the corridors with his new bride, looking down on her, his former whore.

For she seemed to have been nothing else to him.

She had given him everything of herself and he had taken everything from her.

She reached for the servants' quarters to get her things there, the sooner she would leave the better, but before she could touch the doorknob she felt a hand put over her mouth and something held in front of her nose.

She squealed slightly, trying to resist, but suddenly her surroundings went black and before she could react, everything was dark.

. . . .

"Let's have our fun with her first," she heard an unfamiliar voice, muffled, so near and so far.

"We've been instructed to kill her right away."

"We do, but the pay sucks," the unknown voice said again. A man's voice. Rose felt the cold, wet ground beneath her. Branches cracked and a gust of wind passed over her skin. "I want my fun."

Where was she?

What did happen?

Had they taken her out of the castle?

"Oh," came a surprised sound. "She's waking up."

I'm awake, you son of a bitch, Rose wanted to scream, but her head hurt so badly. What had happened? She remembered what Aemond had said, the memory of it brutal and without mercy, and then suddenly everything was dark.

"How nice. I like it when they get it when I get it for them."

Rose felt sick.

She forced herself to open her eyes. It was more difficult than she thought. Her eyelids were incredibly heavy, as if someone was squeezing them shut. She felt weak and powerless. Like a doll that you could do whatever you wanted with.

Then she felt someone grab her chin and she wrenched her eyes open.

At first the outline was blurry, then a man with a fat grin looked back at her.

"Hello, sweetie."

She knew this man. He was one of the men who had held her along with the Septa. What was he doing here? What was she doing here?

She looked around. She saw several men smiling at her. They were in a forest. Why was she in a forest? Just a few minutes ago, she was in the castle. There was no forest in King's Landing. Where were they? Where had these men taken her?

What was happening here?

"I know you," she breathed in a weak voice, and the man's grin grew even wider.

"Oh, she remembers me. How flattering," he laughed and the men around him joined in. There were four of them in all.

"Well how are we doing?"

Rose looked at him in irritation. "Why am I here?"

The blow to her face came suddenly and hard. She felt like her whole co9p was going to fly off.

"It's rude to answer a question with a question in return."

She felt blood in her mouth.

"Stop it you're damaging her," one of the men said reproachfully. "She's pretty."

"And as good as dead," the man who had hit her replied, annoyed, before turning back to her with a smile.

"So, how are you?"

Rose gulped. "Lousy," she said, and a laugh went through the ranks. The men were having a good laugh at her condition.

"Then we want you to feel better right away."

The man in front of her suddenly grabbed her by her legs and pulled her close. Rose squealed in fright as he squeezed between her legs.

"What are you going to do?"

The question was almost ridiculous; she knew exactly what he was up to.

But no one was responding to her.

He pushed her down with one hand, and no matter how hard she tried to resist, she didn't stand a chance against him.

"Ay, why do you get to start?," one of the men moaned indignantly and jumped forward.

"Because I'm the boss and I decide, so shut up." His voice boomed over their heads and it was enough to silence the other man. Rose looked at their faces in disgust. They all wanted the same thing.

Her.

Her fear crashed down on her without mercy.

Then the man between her legs looked at her.

"So, sweetheart, let's have some fun," he said, pushing up her dress.

"Don't touch me," Rose screamed, panic rising inside her. "I swear to you, I will return and kill every one of you."

The man above her looked at her in surprise before suddenly laughing. He laughed so loudly that his laughter echoed throughout the forest. It was a biting, and humiliating laugh.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"How are you going to do that, girl, when you're already dead?"

His words made her realize that they weren't planning on just having fun with hers and then letting her go.

"Someone at the castle doesn't like you very much, sweetie."

Someone had given them the order to kill her ? Someone wanted them dead? Who had to hate her so much that they wanted her dead? No matter who Rose thought of, no one came to mind. The Septa was gone and everyone else had no reason to kill her. What relevance did she have? She was a nobody. She didn't know any big secrets, and she wasn't anyone of any importance. Killing her, or after worse, commissioning her killing, seemed so ridiculous.

"But don't worry. We'll give you some beautiful last moments in this world," the man said in a soothing voice, before tugging at her dress again, making her aware that if she didn't fight back now, she was doomed to die. It would be her last chance. He was rough, fumbling with his pants as he pushed her deeper into the mud. Rose looked around in panic for something to hit him with, and she almost gave up hope and accepted her fate, if she hadn't seen a sharp stone lying next to her at the last moment.

None of the men seemed to see what she saw and before anyone could react, she grabbed the stone and hit the man in the eye with the sharp edge over hers. The man screamed like a sow being speared and she took her chance and kicked him off her. Everyone was too shocked, so no one was quick to grab her when she got up and ran.

She ran obsessively, as fast as she could, not caring how the broken branches and sharp stones tore up her feet and left a trail of blood behind her.

"Catch her!," one of the men shouted and she heard them running after her. They were faster than her and she heard them getting closer and closer.

Rose didn't know where she was running, she was just running, hoping to outrun them, but when she suddenly came to an abyss, stunned at her lack of happiness, she realized that she was lost. There was no way out.

She would die tonight.

"There you are, you fucking cunt."

She turned around. All the men had arrived. They all had hostile expressions on their faces and grinned as they realized their hopeless situation.

"I will hurt you so much, sweetheart."

She believed him immediately.

But she wouldn't let it get that far.

There was a way out.

Just not what she had hoped for.

She turned around and looked into the abyss. The night was foggy, very cloudy and she didn't see what was happening below, but that wasn't important. If she hit the ground, she would die instantly in the best case scenario, and if she jumped into water, she would drown shortly after.

She didn't want to die.

But she would never endure what they planned to do to her only to die afterwards.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Come here, my sweet daughter."

The gentle voice from her dream suddenly reached her. Suddenly everything felt weightless and for a moment she felt born.

She remembered that dream but she understood nothing.

What did mean?

Maybe death wasn't the end.

Maybe it was the path to something better.

Maybe it was the peace she longed for.

She thought of Aemond's words and she wondered if he would be sad if he knew she was gone. Would he even know she was dead, or would her disappearance forever be a mystery?

Would he think a second time about her or would he forget her?

"Come to me."

Suddenly she felt the wind getting stronger. Confused, she opened her eyes and looked at the sky. She saw the clouds suddenly move faster. It looked like they were being stirred up, like someone was pushing them aside to make room for something else. For something bigger.

"What the hell," one of the men swore and suddenly Rose saw a figure in front of her.

First she saw an eye staring at her mercilessly, then sharp teeth, the thread of saliva and then red skin that at first looked like red stones before she realized what figure, what beast appeared there in front of her.

Warm air was blown towards her and she opened her eyes.

A dragon looked back at her, through cold and aggressive eyes, merciless eyes that stared down at her.

It wasn't the first dragon she had seen.

It wasn't the first dragon she'd been so close to either, but it was the first dragon she'd faced like this.

But it wasn't an unknown dragon.

She knew those red scales and that long neck.

She knew those eyes that looked at her as if she were the most pitiful creature in this realm.

Full of fear, her gaze wandered further up, knowing who would be looking at her there.

Her second encounter with him was no different than the first.

His gaze was cold, hard, hard-hearted and he stared down at her like she wasn't even worth breathing in his presence.

He was exactly as she remembered him.

Daemon Targaryen.

The Rogue Prince.

His gaze shifted to the men behind her and then he spoke the words every dragon rider had said at least once in their lives.

"Dracarys."

She felt the biting heat, she saw the dangerous red and the only thing she could do as the hot flood descended on her was to throw herself on the ground and hope that her death would be quick and painless.

Rose wondered wherever she ended up if she would see her mother again.

Taglist for TBC. If you want to be part of the taglist then write me here or under this post.

@watercolorskyy @marvelescvpe @ammo23 @helaenaluvr

[baebeyza]

Hmmm can i see your idea of overlord x ultra magnus from TFA? :3

I'm sorry if you're blank with this TvT

Thank you! ~

Had to check if TFA had anything about Overlord... only thing TFwiki got is that he left the Cons during the Great War.

I'll just roll with it-

The war went on and on, and Ultra Magnus had yet to find a strategy that could turn the tides in their favour.

The war went on for long enough.

It seemed that Ultra Magnus wasn't the only high ranking warrior tired of battles and fighting. Tired of damage, wastelands and forsaken battlefields.

"Come with me."

Ultra Magnus was outside, far away from his troups, the starlight above his only guide. On this empty field, he met Overlord. Old friend turned enemy. Or so he thought.

"I left the war. And I can see that you don't enjoy it anymore either."

"I never enjoyed it, Overlord." Ultra Magnus spoke with the same stern voice he always did since he became the Supreme Commander. Overlord seemed almost hurt to be addressed like this.

"Of course not. Why stay then?" Overlord came nearer, his hand outstretched. "Come with me. Let us go far away from this place. See the outskirts of the universe. Why bother with this one planet, when every road is laid out for us?"

Ultra Magnus didn't move. He had a lot of answers for Overlord. Not all of them were a no.

To escape this war, escape from this never-ending conflict. It sounded so tempting. To leave all responsibilty behind and be free. With someone he cared for long ago.

"No. I refuse." Ultra Magnus could never have answered with anything else. "You might be able to abandon your folk, but I could never do this."

Overlord hesitated, slightly, before he put his arm down. He probably expected this answer, but the sparkbreak was visible in his eyes.

"Unfortunate. I couldn't imagine travelling the galaxy with anyone else."

"You'll have to get used to solitude then." Or join me, Ultra Magnus thought, but didn't say. He wasn't shameless enough to suggest it.

"So I have, old friend. But tell me," Overlord prepared to leave, his thrusters starting to ignite. "Are you prepared for the monster you'll become?"

"What?" For the first time, Ultra Magnus was surprised. Everything else, he expected. But not these words.

"You want to win. Maybe you will. If you lose, you'll die. But if you win, you'll become a monster."

"And what makes you think that?" Irritation and anger leaked out of his voice. Not once had Ultra Magnus ever been accused like this.

"I had wished for you to come with me. I remember you as a trusted friend, lover, and partner. But might and power... it didn't do you any good. How far will you go to win? How far will you go to assert your victory? How far will you go for lasting peace?"

Lasting peace was exactly what Ultra Magnus hoped for. But in Overlord's mouth, they sounded like a crime. "I will go as far as I must. I want to see Cybertron rebuilt! I want to see it in the glory it once had. Does that wish make me a monster?"

Overlord was in the air, leaving after saying his parting words:

"Ask the generation after your victory. Ask them who they are. And prepare to be left with no answer."

Overlord left, giving Ultra Magnus no time to reply.

[hebruv]

                    HE   DOESN’T   LIKE   LONG   SILENCES .     they’re     too     easy     to     fill     with     shit     he    doesn’t     actually     wanna     say          ---------------          not     consciously          ,          that     is          ---------------          &          then     what          ?          it’s     not    that     he     can’t     keep     his     mouth     shut         ,          especially     not     when     it     matters   .     he’s     a     spy          ,          for     christ’s     sake          ,          so     that’s     sort     of     part     of     the     job     description   .     just     doesn’t     have     much     of     a     filter   .          (          that’s     the     excuse     eggsy’s     always     given     himself          ,          at     least   .          )

                    ❝          SORRY   I   DIDN’T   LISTEN   TO     you     back     there   .     about     whiskey          ,          i     mean   .          ❞          see          ,          there’s     something     he     honestly     would’ve     preferred     to     leave     untouched   .    brought     it     up     anyway          ,          though   .     maybe     harry     hadn’t     heard    him   .     that’d     be     nice   .

@mortalbars     +     liked .   *

[beepboop358]

Victor Creel Theories

(also includes ST movie DNA series: Star Wars)

Victor Creel is described as "a disturbed and intimidating man who is imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital for a gruesome murder in the 1950s." We know he will be institutionalized at Penthurst mental hospital, where Peter Ballard works, based on leaked on set pics.

There a few possibilities regarding his character:

He could be a former test subject with some kind of powers and a connection to the upside down (which would also follow the even/odd season pattern of a main character being directly involved with the upside down creatures) I think it's highly likely that Victor Creel will be involved with the mystery/danger in Hawkins in some way, and have a connection to the upside down. He could also be disturbed on top of this, and he could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season.

That he is not a test subject and is ONLY mentally disturbed.

He may be related to one of the already established characters. Most likely Joyce, and maybe Terry but it's a stretch.

Before I go any further into that last possibility, I just want to preface that this idea of an "evil father/grandfather with powers" could be a purposeful Star Wars parallel. The Duffer brothers have already paralleled and used Star Wars references a few times in the show:

In Star Wars, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father, and Palpatine is Rey's grandfather (aka the literal worst guy in the universe). A common theme in ST is abusive/bad fathers - that post here. Interesting...

Palpatine is also Anakin Skywalker's father, so Luke and Leia are both the grandkids of Palpatine as well as Rey is, but it's unclear if they are just force midichlorian related or actually dna related as well but I won't get into that here!

Luke and Rey are both force sensitive (have powers), so are Darth Vader and Palpatine; their descendants (kid/grandkid) have powers, and so do they (father/grandfather) The descendants use their powers for good, while the ancestors use their power for evil. Who has powers in ST? Eleven and Will - and they both already have this idea of abusive/bad/evil fathers: Will has an abusive father Lonnie, and Eleven has an abusive father figure Dr. Brenner "Papa".

So... Victor Creel being the evil/bad grandfather to either Eleven or Will and the evil/bad father to Joyce or Terry, would make a FULL Star Wars parallel to people who are morally good and have powers (Will and El - Luke and Rey), discovering they are the descendant of an evil male figure who also has powers (Victor Creel - Darth Vader and Palpatine)

If Victor Creel turns out to be the father of anyone in the show my bets are it's either Joyce Byers or maybeee Terry Ives.

If he was a test subject, its likely he went "crazy" with some of his powers and the government couldn't cover it up so they declare him mentally insane to get him committed, and he probably goes insane being locked away as well. Personally, I think he may be 001 or an early test subject, when they were still working out the kinks of the program, and I think he does have a big connection to the upside down.

The Duffer Brother's on s4: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything"....

Now let's get into the possibilities for Creel's storyline/who he could be related to (split into 3 parts).

Part 1: Creel could be Joyce's father

Based on Victor Creel's description as "disturbed" and that he is "in a psychiatric hospital", it could connect him to Joyce's bloodline.

There are several comments in the show hinting to this idea of mental instability in Joyce's family:

s1 ep.5: When Lonnie comes to visit in s1 after Will goes missing, Joyce says to Lonnie "No, don't look at me like that, like how everyone is looking at me, like I'm out of my damn mind" He responds saying "I think you need to consider the possibility that this is all in your head. Remember your Aunt Darlene?" Joyce quickly replies, "No, this is not that."

That conversation, although quick, is very telling. Lonnie is implying that Joyce had an aunt who was mentally unstable - and Joyce clearly knows about her aunt being unstable because she responds to his comment by saying what's she's experiencing is not that (the mental instability of her aunt)

s2 ep.2: Joyce says to Bob, "this is not a normal family", when he suggest moving out of Hawkins.

I used to think Joyce was always was referring to the whole 'my son got stuck in an alternate dimension with supernatural monsters and is now traumatized, and we were sworn to secrecy by the government' thing but maybe she is also referring to her biological family.

s1 ep.2: When they are searching for Will, one of the other police officers, says "Joyce is one step from the edge" and the other officer responds "She has been several steps for quite a while now".

If Joyce is related to Victor Creel biologically, and he did also happen to be a test subject, has powers, or has some other relation to the upside down, this could possibly have contributed to whatever kind of abilities Will has, because he would be a descendant of Creel. But Joyce does not seem to have any powers and neither does Jonathan. If they were related to Creel, it's odd that they both didn't get powers, but Will did. I've always thought Will was born with his powers, like El.

We know almost nothing about Joyce's past, it's never discussed in the slightest in the show, which I feel like is purposeful. We don't know Joyce's maiden name; she doesn't change it back after she and Lonnie divorce. Maybe the Duffers are saving Joyce's backstory for s4 (and possibly s5), like I think they are doing with Will and El's connection. Will, El, Hopper, and Joyce were pictured in a series of 4 tweets posted by the stranger writers, hinting to the main 4 storylines for season 4. My analyzation of this tweet here.

I think it's possible that Joyce's storyline this season could also have to do with her past- not just her searching for Hopper- but also more personal information about her. Perhaps we will see flashbacks of younger Joyce and maybe learn about her biological relatives.

Noah also said this would be the darkest season for Will, so this idea of being the grandkid of someone evil or disturbed could fit into that.

Part 2: Creel could be Terry's father/Eleven's grandfather

The only other person I could see potentially having a biological; relation to Victor Creel could be Terry Ives and Eleven, (because it would complete the Star Wars parallel mentioned earlier) but it's a stretch for several reasons, the main one being that Terry and Becky's father Bill Ives, died in a car crash (year unknown).

So for Victor Creel to be Terry's father that either has to be:

Her adoptive father OR

Her mother cheated and led Mr. Ives to believe Terry was his kid but her father is really Victor Creel, and Becky is actually Bill Ives son (which would explain why Becky has no powers)

Right of the bat it's interesting Terry's father's name is Bill. Bill is a nickname for William (Will Byers full name is William), and Billy's a nickname also for William... Hmmm....

Immediately after El is born, Terry is adamant that Brenner stole her child to use as a weapon to fight the commies BECAUSE SHE HAD SPECIAL ABILITIES - and she's completely right about everything. How does Terry know El had powers immediately after she was born? Because she knows she has developed some kind of special abilities from the experiments as well. When El goes to visit her mother in s2, THE LIGHTS FLICKER, just like they do when the upside down is near, but it's not Eleven controlling it. Her Aunt Becky says it's just the wiring, and Eleven responds: "IT'S MAMA. She wants to talk." And then we see Terry's NOSE BLEED, just like El's does when she uses her powers.

Quick side note about El's biological father is Andrew Rich: (It's revealed in the canon novel Suspicious Minds that Andrew Rich is El's father) He was a college student who got expelled from school due to protesting the Nixon address, making him eligible to be drafted in the Vietnam war, and he died in battle. Terry was involved in the Project MKUltra experiments at Hawkins National Laboratory in College, under the direction of Dr. Martin Brenner, but didn't know she was pregnant at the time. Andrew never even knew Terry was pregnant, meaning she was extremely early on in her pregancy at the time he was sent away, not even Terry was aware yet. It's also stated in this book that BRENNER HAD A HAND IN GETTING ANDREW EXPELLED SO HE COULD SEND ANDREW AWAY. The novel states that Brenner has Andrew drafted because he wants to SCARE Terry, to show her how much power he has over her life. There's definitely some history between Terry and Brenner that we don't know about yet.

If Victor Creel is in fact Joyce's father it's interesting that the powers seem to have skipped a generation with Joyce, and also one kid with the Byers, but if Victor Creel is Terry's father, no generations were skipped in passing down powers. ANYWAYS, this is all just theories and speculation since we have no actual concrete reasons to believe he will be related to Joyce or Terry.

Part 3: The possibility that Creel could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season does not rely on them being biologically related.

**One of the filming locations for this season is the Claremont House, which is RUMORED to be Creel's house and also "Vecna's lair" the new monster for s4 (unconfirmed) This is the house the Hawkins group goes into in the ST4 sneak peek, where they see the grandfather clock striking midnight. If that's true, there's a connection between Creel and the upside down and having powers, which could connect Creel to Eleven. The Duffers: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything". This thing "that connects everything", could be Creel's storyline (his possible connection to the lab/upside down/person in the show), because Creel's storyline also spans all the way back to the 1950's and before that, so there's our "long buried" part most likely.

Robert Englund recently revealed in *an interview* that his character Victor Creel gouges his eyes out, making him unable to see. Englund also mentions what it's like working with Millie Bobby Brown and talks about the first time her met her, he doesn't mention any other cast members in detail like he does Millie.

He's clearly working closely with Millie's character Eleven.

But why? I think Creel could be involved with Eleven getting her powers back, and her reliving her past. Once the government baddies realize El has no powers, they're gonna want them back. If Creel was in fact a test subject, maybe there is some kind of connection between them, Such as Eleven revisiting what happened to her in her past and how that could relate to her getting her powers back.

Another thought I had was that perhaps the gruesome murder he committed is somehow related to something that ends up impacting in Eleven's life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whatever Victor Creel's storyline is, it will be an important one, and it will carry somewhat into s5, since he will be a returning character. He is not signed as a series regular, but as a recurring character, which means we don't really know to what capacity he will be in s5. It could be flashbacks mostly, or he could have just as big or small of a role.

Source: indie wire

That detail about eyes being gouged out reminds me of fear street 1666 when the townsmen who was sacrificed to the devil becomes possessed and gouges the kids eyes out. Leigh Janick, director of fear street, is married to Ross Duffer. They both direct and make horror/sci-fi themed series about kids in a small town set in the 80's, who fight supernatural evil with a heavy undertone of queer themes, that are even filmed in a lot of the same locations (the mall, the town streets, etc.) I'm not saying it's the same thing, it definitely won't be. But there's so many similarities between ST and Fear Street, I thought I would mention this as another.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch- Part 11

The Darkling x Reader

I’m backkkkkkkkk besties 🥰🥰

The rest of the day was spent doused in the work the Darkling had given you earlier, so the time you would have spent otherwise mulling over his plans for the stag had to be pushed out of the way.

You had plenty of time left until the evening's dinner, where you would be formally announced as Deputy General to the Grisha of the Little Palace. You had already signed off on official letters to the camp commanders and First-Army leaders stating your position, but you doubted there would be any fuss from them.

Your own Grisha is who you had to be worried about. They didn't do well with change. Especially not when it came to a mysterious all-powerful Grisha coming and taking control of an army they'd never seen them be a part of before.

Nonetheless, this was happening whether they wanted it or not. Ravka needed to present a united front and adding another person to strengthen said front was essential. All you hoped for was a peaceful transition, no blood-baths. To hell if they whispered or rumored, you could handle that, you've been handling it.

You had a list of ever-changing priorities in your head, and on top of it was always Alina. You cared for your Grisha, no matter how much they hated you or how much you disliked them, and Alina wasn't any exception. You felt a pang of guilt flow through you at the thought of Aleksander using her against her better conscience but you shoved it away quickly. There was nothing you could do but talk to him and question him about the plan.

The plan. The stupid plan. You called it stupid because you didn't know anything about it and against your better judgment, it made you doubt his trust. Was it so bad, so cruel, that he couldn't tell me? Before you came to the Little Palace, you told yourself you wouldn't blindly trust anybody anymore. Aleksander had to be held to that standard too.

Your door was left slightly ajar, you were sick of the knocking at this point so when you heard a feminine voice call out your name you looked up instantly, ready to be hit with more reports.

'Ms.Y/L/N? I have been sent by the General to see if you wish to use any of my help' The red-haired Grisha looked at you with her bright blue eyes. Her white kefta pressed to perfection.

'You must be Genya' You stood up and welcomed her in.

'Sorry about the room, as you can see I don't have a proper desk yet' you laughed and watched her closely as she studied you. 'What do you do exactly? It's been years since I heard of a tailor and I've never had the pleasure to meet one.'

You noticed a look of surprise at your black kefta. If she had any questions, she most certainly didn't feel comfortable asking, he probably told her not to ask.

'I do all sorts of things, change the color of your hair, get rid of pesky scars, anything you don't like about yourself really..... well except your character, there's nothing anyone can do about that' She waved off and sat you down at your vanity, carefully pushing papers to one side.

'So? How about it?' She looked at you through the mirror and you pondered.

'Maybe the eye bags need to go?'

She nodded deeply, 'Definitely' you couldn't help but feel a little offended, but mostly amused.

'What do you propose then, Genya?'

'Hmmm, the eyebags for sure, put some color on your cheeks,-' She combed her hands through your hair and bit the inside of her cheek '-the hair needs something too, perhaps some shine?'

'Perhaps' You mused.

'I shall get to work then' she smiled.

****

After your pampering session with Genya and prying her open (more like soothing her) to talking about life at the Palaces and her life, you came to the conclusion that you would die for her. She was so kind and strong, no wonder she and Alina were always seen together, they were two peas in a pod. Her humor and wittiness, like yours, was refreshing, a breath of fresh air in the stiff and formal palace.

You didn't bother changing. The truth was you were tired already and a full day hadn't even passed of your new job. How did I do this for so many years? But still, you managed to put on your bravest smile and walk in the domed hall with your head held high and your black kefta on a show like a trophy.

Unlike the other time you and Aleksander dined together here, he was already sitting in his chair. Ivan was standing, ready to announce any war news and casualties. You could see Alina looking at you with a confused look on her face, but she still gave you a welcoming smile.

You sat down and cleared your throat in the deafening silence. Ivan began to speak but you heard none of it. Your head too full with thoughts on how this situation could go. You felt Aleksander move his hand to your thigh in a calming manner. You looked over to him and shot him a tight smile, before looking back to Ivan who was sitting down. Here goes nothing.

You stood up with Aleksander. The Grisha in the room couldn't understand what was going on, who was that person, wearing black nonetheless, sitting at the right side of the Darkling, on her own custom chair. The list of anomalies was never-ending.

He spoke first 'Today is a monumental day for the Second-Army, for all Grisha, for Ravka. Y/N Y/L/N has returned to the Little Palace and will be reprising her role of Deputy General, Second in Command of the Second Army.'

Nobody spoke but if looks could kill, I would be halfway into my grave by now.

'Ms. Y/L/N will play an essential part in our fight for freedom and justice. She is an outstanding leader, sometimes even better than I am, for she leads with compassion and understanding for all. She deserves nothing but the utmost respect and loyalty. If you for one second doubt her abilities, you might as well put cuffs around your own wrists, for disrespecting her is disrespect for me. I put my full faith in her.'

He turns to you and sits down, giving you all the attention.

'None of you will remember my reign as Deputy General, but I assure you I know what I am doing. The Little Palace and your lives are of most importance to me. I am here to protect and care for you, yes I will be giving commands, but rest be assured they are in your best interest.'

'I don't represent one order of Grisha, I represent and unite all of you-' You look towards the Etherialki '-I can summon the strongest of gales and light the Palace's fires-'

You turn your head toward the Materialki '-I can bend any metal, bleed fabric of its color-'

Your eyes meet Fedyor's '-I can soothe a heart and crush every bone in a body-'

You stand straighter '- and I can summon the shadows, call the darkness. With me at your side, I will make the Grisha kind loved once again, we will not be hunted or enslaved. Ravka's borders will be peaceful. I am putting my trust into each and every single one of you to help me achieve our utopia'

You sit back down and only then do you notice your shaking hands. You don't dare look up out of fear but a calming hand on your back almost forces you to. And you're glad because almost every Grisha in the room is looking, no, worshipping you. Their eyes glazed over and their mouths open in shock. Even Zoya looked astounded.

He leans in to whisper in your ear 'I'm so proud of you'

*****

You ate amongst the other Grisha that night, feeling a sense of belonging and confidence pulsing through you. It went down way better than you'd expected. Nobody threw a fit or tried your life. And you were happy. The sleep you had that night was the best you'd had in years.

The next morning, and the morning after that, was taken up entirely by work. Aleksander went away and so you were left with the runt of the jobs. But you had made yourself extremely comfortable in his quarters. At first, you only came to make use of the war room, then you sat at his desk to drink your tea and concentrate on work, and ultimately fell asleep in his bed, enclosed by his scent and those forgiving black sheets.

There was so much work to do and only so many hours in the day, and Aleksander decided to make life that much harder by renewing the search for Morozova's stag. You couldn't keep up.

You were waiting on a certain somebody. You had instructed the oprichniki to bring her here right after she was done with Baghra, no later. And so you stood there, inspecting the war table when a gentle knock echoed throughout the room.

'Come in'

'Deputy General' She addressed you with a curt nod.

'Please Alina, call me Y/N' you looked at her from your place at the table, hands resting on the map. She looked slightly uncomfortable but way less scrawny than when you'd first seen her. Her hair was filler and her skin glowed. She looked healthy now. Aleksander must see this too.

'I can see using your powers has affected you in more ways than one.'

'Oh-yes umm.. my appetite's grown so much since I got here it's rather funny' She was growing more comfortable.

'That's completely normal if you're using your powers more often' You smiled and walked around to her. 'I thought we could have a cup of tea or two, and you could tell me all about yourself Alina, and the things that are troubling you. I don't want you to feel like you're all alone in this place.'

'Dep- Y/N I assure you I am most certainly fine. There’s no need t-’

'I was once like you… and I can sense a troubled soul with my eyes closed.'

She stared at you with her defensive walls up, not letting any emotion slip though the cracks behind her eyes.

‘Alina… I mean you no harm. I’m just worried. Isn’t it nice to have someone worry for Alina and not the sun-summoner for a change?’ You cracked a sad smile and walked over to the tea the servants had brought.

‘Sugar?’

Part 12

Taglist (tell me if u want to be added!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

[dinosaurtsukki]

all for a crown (fyodor x gn!reader royalty au)

summary: fyodor dostoevsky wasn't at all like the other members of the royal family. he was polite, gentle, and always remembered your name. unfortunately, you're the one who eventually finds out about his inner motives

word count: 1.7k words

contains: royalty au, assassination, mentions of death and suicide, psychological manipulation, fyodor being himself as usual

anon: *puts 100 dollar bill on table* How about Royalty!AU with Fyodor but he’s evil/planning to take over another kingdom, imagine helping him dress into royal attire as he gets ready for his coronation, ok bye I’m having too much brain rot.

a/n: i... have no words for this fic it's literally just so self-indulgent but omg i love fyodor royalty!au so much you killed me with this request anon also i hope you enjoy the last scene

even after being in his company for only a day, you could tell fyodor dostoevsky was much different from all the other members of the royal family that you had served before. you were in your fifth year of serving at the castle and had met many of them, from duchesses and dukes to even the crown prince himself. needless to say, the best interactions that you had with any of them were when they barely paid any mind to you at all.

but you didn't expect much from them either. they were royalty after all and a poor servant from a far-flung village with nothing else to achieve in life was more than beneath them. living in the servants' quarters of a castle was better than nothing though, so you kept your head down and your work efficient just to get by.

and then came the day when you were assigned to be the personal servant of the young fyodor dostoevsky.

he was the tsar's nephew and a close friend of his son, the young prince. from what your fellow servants told you, fyodor had always been a sickly child and rarely left the castle grounds. the first time you saw him, you couldn't help but notice how pale his skin was and that you could probably wrap a thumb and forefinger completely around his wrist.

but what struck you the most about fyodor were his eyes: dark violet, the color of the robes that the past kings wore in their portraits. and second, was how warm his voice sounded when they greeted you.

"good morning. you must be y/n."

...

hearing fyodor call you by name made you realize that you've haven't heard it from another person's mouth in a long time. you were almost always called with several snaps of a finger or a sharp gaze. but fyodor used your name and never raised his voice. he was polite and the way he addressed you made you dangerously forget your own place. "y/n, if you please, could you fetch my book? y/n, would you be so kind to shut the window for me? y/n, have you had anything to eat? you look famished."

and even though you were expected to wait on him hand and foot for a whole day, it was always easy to run out of things to do. fyodor spent most of his time by himself: visiting the library in the morning after breakfast, practicing the cello by himself in the afternoon, and reading a book in bed at night.

you could tell that he was in need of someone to converse with since his cousin was the only who'd visit him. when it was just you two, fyodor could talk for hours on end though you could never fully understand what he was talking about. but that didn't seem to matter since he appeared to be content that someone was listening.

he was pleasant to be around and waiting on him was the best job you've ever taken in the castle. you enjoyed waking him up in the morning and preparing his meals and even staying at his bedside when he got sick. fyodor was different from all the other nobles you've served.

you were soon going to realize just how different.

...

"y/n... you aren't supposed to be here," fyodor hummed. he sounded as if he was lightly chastising you for breaking a dish but that didn't quite register in your head.

just half an hour ago, fyodor was eating dinner with his cousin in their room. he had let you off early for the night and you were about to return to your quarters when you remembered that fyodor forgot to take his medicine. clearly, you weren't supposed to witness this scene: fyodor's cousin, the crown prince himself, slumped over the table with his wineglass still in hand, spilling red all over the white tablecloth. fyodor himself was calmly swirling the wine in his glass and studying you with those dark purple eyes that now sent shivers down your spine.

"h-his majesty, i--"

"there's nothing you can do about it now, y/n," fyodor cut you off. he didn't look at all like the kind, young man with the gentle smile anymore and you consciously backed away towards the door. of course, he could tell what you were about to do.

"i wouldn't do that if i were you, y/n," he said lowly, placing his glass on the table. "between your word and mine, whose do you think people would believe, hmm?"

a weight sank in your stomach and you felt tears forming. "p-please sir. i-i'll keep quiet, i promise. i promise," you begged.

fyodor left the table and slowly made his way towards you while you were huddled on the floor with the door pressed against your back. he could have his way with your right then and there and you squeezed your eyes shut and hoped this was all just a bad dream.

then, you felt his hand on the top of your head, gently stroking your hair. "oh y/n," fyodor sighed. "shame, i took a liking to you. i would have been content with you personally serving me if you hadn't made this little mistake."

"i'm sorry... i'm sorry," you sobbed.

"hmmm, but i do believe in second chances."

at that, you looked up slowly at fyodor whose hands were still in your hair. maybe this was what selling your soul to the devil was like. "what should i do?" you whispered.

"to begin," fyodor crouched down until he was eye level with you. "you could help me get rid of the body."

...

it was almost funny how easily fyodor framed the murder as the crown prince taking his own life. but how could you laugh when you were now under his thumb? he was right, after all. who would take your word over his?

fyodor's scheme came to a conclusion when a group of noblemen came to his room with the news that he was next in line to the throne. the tsar was sick, you assumed fyodor played a part in that, and the deceased crown prince had no younger brothers. of course, fyodor played his part effortlessly. everything from his sorrowful gaze to his deep sigh leading into "with a heavy heart, i shall take on the crown for the sake of our kingdom."

you were certain his eyes flickered to yours across the room as soon as he spoke those words.

and now, here you were, dressing fyodor for his coronation as per his request. you no longer felt safe around him, knowing he would benefit from disposing you and no one would suspect otherwise. so, why? why were you still alive?

"your hands are trembling, y/n," fyodor observed.

"i-- f-forgive me," you stammered as fyodor sighed and finished buttoning his vest himself.

"if you keep looking that nervous it won't take long for people to suspect you."

"i'll try my best," you nodded. fyodor seemed content with your answer as he gestured for his coat which you hurriedly fetched.

"just button the two in the middle, leave the rest," he ordered. you followed his instructions until finally, you were done dressing fyodor for his coronation.

the way he looked now was a far cry from the sickly, bedridden man you met months ago. his attire was made on short notice, but the seamstresses and tailors did beautiful work nonetheless. his vest was white with gold buttons and stitching. the color of his coat wasn't the usual dark red that the previous tsars had worn. 'it's out of respect for my dear cousin,' fyodor explained.

but the dark, deep purple coat with the gold stitching that matched his vest suited fyodor well. he stood tall and imposing in his black boots made of polished leather. additionally, his raven hair which often hung loose to his shoulders was tied back into a loose ponytail.

fyodor looked like he had always been born to be the crown prince. and, with the way his dark, glittering eyes admired his reflection, you could tell he knew that too.

"you did a splendid job, as always, y/n," fyodor chuckled, turning this way and that in front of the mirror.

"thank you... your grace," you bowed.

"now, now. it's just the two of us here. you can call me by my name."

"v-very well... fyodor," you answered.

"well, i mustn't let the people wait too long," fyodor sighed, eyeing the growing crowd out of the window. "i've already requested a place for you to sit in the cathedral. it's quite far but you'll have a good view of the proceedings."

"thank you, you're too kind," you whispered.

"ah, and one last thing," fyodor took your hand in his and pressed a dark green vial in it. your eyes widened as you quickly realized what it was.

"i-is this--?"

"the duke alexandrei has been suspicious of us lately," fyodor whispered, his gaze darkening. "if you can, slip it into his drink or soup later during the feast."

"but--"

"and he won't die instantly," fyodor cut you off. "this one acts slow and it will appear as if the duke has passed away from the flu."

"you want me to... poison him?" you felt your hands sweat even as they closed around the vial. fyodor gave you a long look before chuckling and patting your head, as if you were a child asking a silly question.

"one of the things i love about you is how naive you are, y/n," fyodor said. "the duke is hardly going to be the last. if you think that i'm the only one who went to such... lengths to achieve what i want, then i'm afraid you're mistaken."

with that, fyodor checked himself one last time in the mirror before walking towards the door.

if only you hadn't walked in on him that night. but then again, even being associated with a man such as fyodor was dangerous enough. you were no different from a poor little mouse who was unfortunate enough to wander into a trap.

"what makes you any different then?" you found yourself asking out loud.

"me?" fyodor paused with his hand on the door. "i'm simply one step ahead of everyone else."

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

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[rayshippouuchiha]

Can I be honest?

Ao3 actually kept me from harm BECAUSE it hosted darker content that is well tagged.

Let me explain. I started my fanfiction days pretty young and in ff.net no less. I loved reading and I was curious. First thing I learned before going on the internet was from my father (the internet is not for kids, stay sharp, you going into an adult place, act like it). I was very careful but I was still curious.

So, I started small, but because of the ff.net tag mess I did get burned. A few times. Sudden violence, amputations, sex scenes (god i remember the lemon scale bs, as if i understood it in the first place) (this was before the purge). This was because all the well written fics were mostly in the M rating but had no specific tags so I had no idea if the M was for torture, cursing, or god knows what, I couldn't filter out anything.

Some of those things I still remember, they left a mark in a way, but that wasn't the writer's fault because they couldn't tag and I ignored the author note sections because most of the time it was just rambles of the author talking with the characters self-insert style or about their real life problems, how was I supposed to find a warning in that kind of mess? And that's on me.

In that period I kinda got introduced to sex, a thing that wasn't talked about around me in real life. I was already a bit older, so I read it no problem. Then got introduced to kinks and found them interesting.

That's where Ao3 comes in. I found it when looking at fic recs and saw a new internet address instead of ff.net. For me, it was the holy grail. I was still a young curious teen girl but suddenly had access to a whole library of cool shit. I read a lot of mainstream fics and switched between fandoms like a deck of cards. Then, I saw the E rating. I was interested and clicked. Clicked through the adult content warnings like a true kid lying about their age on the internet.

I saw tags galore! Now, for the first time I was, in a way, safe while exploring dark stuff. Because one fic on the same page was tagged underage (the characters were my age at the time) and was E, while a whole other E fic on the same page was graphic torture case fic and worse. And it was all tagged.

So there I went, looking at fic, going hmmm and deciding: oh that's interesting, ew no, oh that's gross, huh i wonder what that is, this sounds good, oh i love this, uhhhhh hmm should I risk it, OH HELL NO.

And that's the thing! I knew what I was reading! I could experiment with kinks and dark things in a completely safe environment of the fantasy world!

Ao3 in a way saved me from talking about these things with others and accidentaly falling into an actual predator's hands (think student/teacher dynamic, grooming), because my curiosity wasn't going away, I still would have looked sooner or later, and if it wasn't for the no-interaction interface of Ao3 (a story can't kidnap or molest you), I could have been hurt.

Like yeah, no shit, I know I'm lucky that my brain didn't get actual trauma from textual depictions of dark stuff I stumbled on in my early days, but what I did get was more valuable than the risk of trauma (also, you can't get trauma from a tag, but you could from the text that has the tag, so the reader is still the one responsible, they were warned what was inside the box and still opened it).

I got boundaries, squicks, hard no's, absolute limits, whatever people call them these days. I now know what I can deal with and what I can't. I know myself better and could now fight against a person trying to bend or break them. I read dark shit so I know what kind of emotions I get from them and in what circumstances (what I like in text pretty much never carries into real life (even the mild things like biting), surprise).

But purity police would look at my Ao3 history and scream their head off about how I'm a deviant roaming free to attack people like a rabid dog, because obviously I must secretly wish to do that in real life!

And then if they met me they would get the confusion of a lifetime! They would have this image of a sexual deviant/old as fuck creeper/freak and then see me, a 21 year old woman, a well adjusted and social individual who has NEVER and will NEVER hurt a fly, eating chips in bed and reading fucked up shit about fictional characters for entertainment.

Because that's the difference. It's not the average people reading fucked up shit that are dangerous to the public, it's the people who already were fucked in the head before reading anything. No story on this Earth can force you to commit a crime unless you already wanted to do it and were just looking for an excuse.

Case in point, the Dexter inspired murders ("it wasn't me it was the book, I am innocent, it was the evil book, as such I am not to blame, blame the author!") and the NUMEROUS video game related murders (oh no it's not the parent's fault they bought their unstable child a 18+ rated game, it's the game's/creator's fault!"

Fiction and Reality coexist and influence each other in various ways (propaganda, misinformation, stereotypes, false data), but not like this.

And do you guys know why? Because we have an instinctive moral compass, we know right from wrong, and anyone fooling themselves thinking "I would have never done that if this [media] didn't tell/force me to do it" are in fact lying. Again, they would have done it eventually or even wanted to do it already, they just found a viable excuse now, all free to use as a "get out of jail free" card.

Sorry for the long ask and for my English (non-native speaker), you can ignore this, I won't mind. Just got a bit ticked off at people blaming writers for shit they didn't do. So here is my perspective from a long time reader's point of view.

If all these works didn't make me into a monster after all this time reading, then maybe, just maybe, it's not the works' fault.

You bring up absolutely wonderful and important points darling. Thank you for sharing.

And your English is fantastic so don’t worry about it.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Now safely headed home and rescued the hostages, Soap discovers something from the four corners of the infirmary. It's basically a chapter that happened inside the infirmary. Yeah.

Previous Chapter : Alex - Dé jàvu

Chapter 5 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"Reunited"

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Task Force 141

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

Soap grunted at the initial moment he felt consciousness. The faint tune of the radio started to fill his ears followed by soft hushes from within the room.

If I lay here… If I just lay here…

Sharp pain struck his abdomen as he tried to get up, making him wince ang grunt loud enough that the two ladies beside him noticed. He shot a pained glare at them and breathed heavily.

"Look who finally decided to get up." The pale brunette greeted him with a soft smile. This was Samantha, the Daughter of America's Head of Defense, she really looked different from her photos from the briefing and Soap thought maybe it's the continuous days of being unconscious draining her out.

"Hm." Soap muttered as he laid back on his bed. He wasn't strong enough to fully get up yet and it frustrated him that he let out a heavy sigh. He rolled his eyes to France who was giggled beside him. Guess she found his misery satisfying.

"What's funny?" he finally gave in and asked.

"Oh nothing. It's just no matter how fast we ran the bullets will always be faster, huh?" she joked, but there was a hint of grief on her tone, something Soap knew and realized just then. It was unfair, it was the harsh reality. They were both considered fit for those conditions but they were the ones who sustained most injuries.

"Heh." Soap chuckled and leaned to face Maxine. She had a few stitches on her forehead an bandages wrapped most of her arm. Her smile was warm and welcoming, but Soap knew what's hidden underneath. Samantha wore the same smile but hers was just happy to be away from her captors.

"So I assume your British, like the rest of the people here?" Samantha asked Soap.

"What made you ask that?" He replied, curious as to her assumptions.

"You sound different than the doctors and nurses around here. I was just curious." She replied almost intimidated.

"Don't mind him, Samantha. He's just grumpy he got injured because he thinks he's so good at everything." France mocked and they both giggled.

"So you two got something going on? I may have lost my memory but not my senses." She winked. France fell silent and Soap immediately replied.

"It's Scottish, Maam and no. We do not have something. If anything it's rivals. She wants to be better than me."

"Oh. I knew that accent stands out among the others!" she mused. Soap turned his attention to the glass window as Alex and General Shepherd passed by discussing something. Samantha caught up with his behavior and looked as well.

"Shit!" She cursed, loud enough to get the two's attention.

"What's wrong?" France asked, holding her arm.

"That guy… his face… looked familiar." she whispered, her hands covered her hands almost scared. 

"Oh him? General Shepherd. Basically our boss. Why, you met him?" France replied calmly.

"No.. those arm tattooes. I swear I saw those before… they're very familiar." she spoke softly. Soap and France turned to each other and nodded, agreeing not to force her too much on remembering things.

"Arm tattoes are the new thing now. I could get one myself anytime you know." Soap informed, trying to divert attention.

"Really? It won't look good on you. You got noodle arms." France retorted, mocking the Scotsman. This seemed to work as Samantha turned to them and laughed.

"You two are the worst liars." she giggled. Soap didn't mind this but he was glad that Samantha was okay.

Time passed by and Soap continued conversing to the two ladies, sharing thoughts and ideas on each other. For someone who's memory had been played with, Samantha recalls quite well. Her descriptions were very detailed up to the last dot. Soap wondered why this was the case and decided to consult Alex when he had the chance.

When it comes to talking, the girls really took their time, they were discussing a lot of things and Soap wasn't able to catch up with them.

"So, Why France? Is it because of the city?" Samantha asked. Soap gulped as he knew it would be asked to him next.

"It's actually short for Francine." She smiled, Soap just stared at her. 

"What about you, tough guy?" Samantha asked as MacTavish snapped back to reality.

"Got beef with someone back at the parachute regiment. Threw a bar of soap straight into his eye." he muttered, almost embarrassed.

"Quite the marksman…" France mused jokingly.

"Oh, bug off. Bet you can't do it square in the eye at a far distance." he boasted, finally getting up.

"I could try. Why don't you stand there so we can test it out." she retorted and Soap just rolled his eyes at her, convincing himself that arguing with her is a waste of time.

The doors slowly opened and a short blonde girl on a wheelchair was being pushed by a nurse. Everyone turned their heads towards the door and Soap noticed France's soft sobs.

"Maxine… I finally found you." she cried. Maxine just sat still, her eyes were open but it felt like she was looking at the vast nothingness.

"She's still recovering her memory lapses. She could hear you and see you but while her brain is still repairing itself, you couldn't expect any response from her." The nurse added and set her on the bed beside Samantha's.

"Sleep restores most minor brain damages we have. So I advise you to do it as well." the nurse patted Samantha and she nodded as the nurse made it's way out.

"How do you know her?" Soap asked, breaking the silence that occured since Maxine entered.

"She's my roommate." Samantha replied in unison to France's "She's my sister."

The girls turned to each other and started crying. Soap just sat there in awe, knowing nothing about calming the situation down.

"I'm sorry I dragged her into this." Samantha sniffled, wanting to hug France.

"You don't have to… It's not your fault." France replied.

~

The rest of the squad arrived when they were permitted to visit the infirmary, except for Price, who was busy about another upcoming move from Nero. In a small room, on a huge circle like formation. Alex was by the door, crossing his arms and staring momentarily at Samantha and turning back to the squad when she turns to him. Soap was aware they had a past mission together but something happened that made him act that way, another reason why he wanted to talk to him.

Ghost and Roach sat by the sofa, finally addressing his raccon story to the group.

"And so there I was by the dumpster. Spreading my arms establishing dominance toward him." Gary narrated, spreading his arms like that of his story.

"It's all over now Rocky Raccoon. I have you cornered. Now give me back my watch! I yelled and you know what happens next? The raccoon actually dropped my watch and scurried back to the forest! Isn't that amazing!" Gary continued adding sound effects and ambiance in the story. He was always the jolly one in the group. He turned to the girls who were laughing along Roach's story while Ghost and Alex forced themselves not to chuckle.

"What's the value of that watch?" Samantha asked.

"Oh about a few hundred British pounds." 

"No no. The sentimental value. The memories it holds. Why is it important to you?" She corrected. Soap caught Alex staring at her intently, his fists were gripping some sort of pendant.

"My mother gave it to me when I left home and joined the force. She said time is golden and I have to enjoy every second of it." he replied showing his watch to the group.

"Aww.. Roach.." France sniffed and Soap rolled his eyes. It wasn't that sad. He thought.

"Well, your Mum's right." Ghost patted Roach's back and he smiled.

The PA Systems rang again and alerted their little group. It announced about another briefing with the exception of those injured and Alex. Ghost and Roach bid their goodbyes at the remaining people, and they waved back except for Maxine who was still asleep.

As soon as the door closed the atmosphere began to shift as Alex slowly walks toward Samantha. Soap and France quietly trailed their eyes at the event and observed intently.

"You!" Samantha finally yelled and slapped Alex as soon as he was reachable.

"Ow! What gives!" he hissed in pain, rubbing his red cheeks.

"You were that creep I met by my apartment! What are you doing here!" she grabbed a pillow and gestured to hit the man. France tried to calm her.

"That's Alex. One of our allies." She whispered softly.

"Alex? Hmmm. Yeah. He looked like that creep who chased me to the supermarket. But that creep had longer hair and complete legs." she noted, calming herself down and lowering his weapon.

"That was actually me. Samantha." he muttered. Soap and France sat quietly as the drama began to unfold.

"You dropped this. That's why I chased you to give it back." Alex handed her a golden pendant. Samantha quickly recognized the thing and held it tight. 

"Daddy's gift." she sighed.

"You dropped it when you were walking home." Alex added and looked down on the floor.

"Thanks, Alex. I'm sorry if I slapped you." She smiled at him and Alex stared back. It was quite long and France whispered to Soap that "things are heating up'. Do these two have some history or something? Like Romantically? Cause, I can sense it." 

Soap shrugged her idea and looked back at Alex who was now leaving.

"It's okay, Maam. Afterall, I'm just nothing but a complete stranger to you." he smiled and closed the door shut, leaving the four of them in silence.

Next Chapter : A Walk to Remember

[iwouldhavelovedyoustill]

EP5: Wedding

They promised.

Both of them have promised in the past that they will be present at each other's wedding. So Myk takes time off his schedule and reaches out to her best friend for her current address. He wants to deliver the invitation properly in person; he's a man of his word after all.

Hannibal takes five days to reply; he says he asked for her permission and it took her a while to agree. Myk doesn't actually understand why she deactivated her Facebook after they broke up. Em doesn't usually stray too far from social media and it is so unlike her not to keep a single account on any platform.

But she actually went off the grid. No one can talk to her easily without going through mutual friends. Moving on from the break-up had been really a hard time for him and her being out of touch is the only reason why he never had the opportunity to ask for a second chance.

It was embarrassing enough that he sent several I love yous and Please talk to me kind of messages to her sister when he got drunk.

The house standing at the given address looks really, really weird. It is way too far from what they have imagined when the two of them are still dreaming about their future. Em will always make it clear that she wants a small, two-story house with enough space for the cats she'll adopt.

The place does not look pet-friendly.

There are no plants around the property, either. No signs of life at all. It is hard to imagine that her once bright smile would live inside these walls. It is made with unfinished concrete with a rusty iron gate that will not even serve security purposes.

A kid, presumably around the ages of 8-10, appears near the door. The boy sees him standing awkwardly outside their gate and he hastily calls for Mama.

Myk starts to wonder if he got the right address, but his heart sinks upon seeing Em in the doorway.

The Em he remembers is full of bright smiles. She occasionally pouts and acts disappointed, but he's always well aware of her real feelings.

Now he's completely clueless.

She smiles at him apologetically and invites him inside. The woman he once loved apologizes, once again, for all the mess in the living room. He doesn't even consider it a living room, but she mentioned that it is the sala. Her words do not convince him that this is the environment she deserved.

The first words out of him were, Sa inyo 'tong bahay?

She laughs. At least it is a real one now, he thinks. "Hindi," she dismisses him. "Sa mother-in-law ko."

His face must have shown a hint of betrayal because she immediately adds, "Hindi pa kami kasal. Live-in lang." She stands up and heads for the kitchen. "May gusto kang inumin?"

Myk shakes his head as he watches her scramble with the few ingredients she has to work with. Life has been obviously so difficult for her and this must be the reason why she suddenly disappeared. It only took him an hour to get there and had he known that she's too close, he would've visited her sooner.

To take her away.

He shrugs off these thoughts. She must be happy now, he convinces himself. Hindi naman sya mag-stay kung hindi.

She comes back to the table with something that looks like a sweet drink. "Sorry 'yan lang," she smiles sheepishly. "Hindi pa nakakapag-grocery si Mister eh."

Admittedly, it hurts a little bit. "Kailan kayo nagkakilala?"

"Hmmm," she loses herself in her thoughts for a while. "Last last year?"

Tapos live-in na agad? Myk couldn't get these thoughts off his head. He knows it's not his problem and her life decisions aren't something that he can easily meddle with. They're over; they cut ties five years ago. "Masaya ka ba?"

He can't help but ask. He has to know.

He has to.

"Hmm... hindi?" She is obviously messing with him. "Ano gagawin mo kung hindi?"

He's a loss for words. Well... what is he thinking, anyway? It's not like he can take her away from her current life. "Hindi ko alam," he admits. "I... Gusto ko lang malaman."

"Hindi ganoon kasaya lagi," she admits. "Pero okay naman. Nakaka-survive. Ganoon siguro talaga ang buhay, 'di ba? You just have to make do of what you've been given."

But you don't have to endure, he wants to argue with her. Myk can recall a few stupid choices that Em did when they were younger but nothing comes close to this. "Pwede kang umalis."

"Saan naman ako pupunta?" She uses a challenging tone.

"Hindi ko rin alam," he confesses. "But you don't belong here."

"And where do I belong?" Em begins to raise her voice. "Say, Myk, where?"

He struggles to find an answer.

"I didn't simply end up here, Myk," she reaches out for his hand. "I placed myself here. I rooted myself here and this was my choice."

"Mag-alaga ng anak ng iba at tumira sa ganitong uri ng bahay?"

Her eyes look cold. "Yes," even her tone is cold. "Okay lang sa akin na mag-alaga ng anak ng iba at mamuhay sa ganitong uri ng bahay."

"I didn't mean to -"

"I know," Em intervenes. "You just want the best for me. I understand that. But I'm okay. I'm really okay. And to be frank, you don't have a say in my life anymore."

That hurt. Again. "So akin na 'yung invitation and you can go on with your day."

How.. did -

"Syempre pina-stalk na kita kay Bal. I just need confirmation. Feel ko rin naman ito lang dahilan kung bakit mo ako kikitain ulit. And I'm really happy for you," she looks like she just stopped herself from hugging him. "It's about time that you settle down."

Myk feels like he's cheating, but he feels he has to say it:

Tayo sana 'yun. He hands the white envelope over. Pangalan sana natin 'to.

Em traces the ends of the delicate paper but doesn't actually open it. This is the only time Myk gets to observe her, and how she had aged over the years without him by her side. Her eyes have lost their spark and even her fingers look old and wrinkly. The only thing he can't figure out is why is she wearing a sweater at 2 in the afternoon.

"May sakit ka ba?" He tries to grab her arm to get a hold of her temperature, but she flinches at his touch. It takes him a while to realize the situation and he pulls her arm forcefully towards him. Myk pushes her sleeve away from her wrist and fresh bruises come to light.

He looks at her accusingly, demanding an explanation. Instead, she claims her arm back and distances herself from him. "Nakuha ko na 'yung invitation," she guides him towards the door. "You can expect me to be there. May gagawin pa ako."

"Em -"

"Please," her voice is desperate. "Don't make me look and feel helpless than I am now."

Her designated seat during the wedding remained empty until the reception ended.

[gvf-imagine]

Part 2

A/N: as always feedback is welcome! I hope you all enjoy it ❣️also if you would like to be added to the tag list just message me

Tag list: @karrotkate @satingrass-maidensfair @justacollegestudentyay @love-philautia @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair

Word count: 3206

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It had been a week since the festival show with Greta Van Fleet, you found yourself listening to their songs on a daily basis and every once in a while you smile absentmindedly as thoughts of them ran through your head. That night with the boys ended with passion and insight. After having that moment with them in that field of lush grass they went back to their bus and you went back to yours feeling like a whole new chapter of your life had begun and you knew for a fact that would not be the last time you'd see them. You truly liked all of them, Josh made you laugh, Danny made you feel safe, Jake made you feel reckless and free, and Sammy brought you a certain aspect of self-involved peace. They all had great qualities about them that made them special to you in the short time that you were with them. They left an impression and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd left one on them.

Unfortunately the alcohol that swirled in your veins caused you to stumble into a sleepy stupor and by the time you woke up , hazzy, with a migraine, your tour bus was already long gone from Los Angeles and headed back home. You cursed yourself for not getting at least one of their numbers before going your separate ways. In the week since, you had been spending your time with yourself mostly. Lounging around your apartment, catching up on sleep and some of your favorite netflix series. Now it was friday morning and you had just woken up, not by choice but rather from the sound of some ungodly loud construction worker who was jack hammering the pavement like it owed him money. The sun was up, the birds were chirping, it was another typical day in your small town. Immediately upon waking your body craved caffeine, you hadn't drank at all last night so the headache slamming in your brain was surely due to the lack of said caffeine in your bloodstream. Nothing a quick cup of coffee couldn’t fix. In your ever flattering attire of jogging pants and a tank top, you moved down the hall to your kitchen, the sun shining through your windows and warming your skin like a gentle hello. 

As the coffee brews you look at your phone, no messages or calls, which is not unusual as you don't have many friends or family still in the area. You open your instagram page with a flick of your thumb and you can't stop the smile that paints its way across your face when you see you had four new followers, Josh , Sam, Jake, and Danny had all found their way to your account, you followed them all back instantly and spent the next half an hour sipping your coffee and going through their photos. Four such gorgeous men literally at your fingertips, you were smiling so much your cheeks began to hurt. When you took a sip of your coffee and were met with a cold liquid you decided that was enough phone time for now, now it was time for a nice hot shower. 

Throughout your shower you absolutely could NOT take your mind off the boys. Josh’s smile filled your mind as water cascaded down your body, relaxing your muscles and awakening your mind. What a beautiful man he is, so gentle and enticing, you licked your lips thinking about him.

The skin on your fingertips began to prune, it was time to get out. You wrapped a warm towel around your body and walked back into your room to get dressed for the day. You settled on a simple outfit, a high waisted jean skirt, with a yellow collared shirt and black knee high stockings. You were doing your makeup when you heard your phone chime in the bathroom, you smack your lips in the mirror, evenly spreading the matte,nude color across your moist lips. You shoot yourself a smile and go to get your phone. 

Josh_gvf: “hey girl, miss me?” 

You laugh , elated that one of them got in contact with you. That must have meant that he was thinking about you, it was good to know you weren't the only one that recognized the connection you felt.

Y: “hey Josh, how'd you know?” You write back perhaps a bit too quickly. You were not ashamed to seem eager, you were eager.

Josh_gvf: “I got a feeling ;) so guess what?” His response comes even quicker than yours. 

Y:”what??” originally you had put three question marks but erased one as it seemed too overzealous. 

Josh_gvf: “were playing in detroit tonight, nothing huge, just a bar show but we'd love it if you would come…..to the show  mean”  You could almost hear his flirtatious tone in your head, he would have shot you a wink as well. God a show sounded wonderful, honestly fuck the show, seeing the boys sounded wonderful. 

Josh_gvf: “of course we would come pick you up, your town is on the way anyways” he sends another message. 

Y: “of course! I’d love to come, what time?” you reply, your heartbeat was quickening in your chest and butterfly wings tickled the sides of your stomach. You were so excited! 

Josh_gvf: “we’ll pick you up around 6 ok? Wear something cute, I need eye candy while im up on stage” more flirtation, god you loved it, you craved it you craved him. His words settled over you, like the warm welcome of an old friend, or that feeling you get when you hear a song you haven't heard in years.

Y: “sounds good and I’ll try my hardest not to disappoint ;)” you write back, you also send him your address. 

Six o’clock was not very far away, only a few hours now. You wondered if you should change your outfit and you decide to find something a bit more tantalizing. 

You dig through your dressers and rummage around in your closet until you've got the perfect outfit put together:  



You looked over yourself in the mirror, happy with your creation, your outfit on, your hair was done and so was your makeup, just a few squirts of perfume and you’d be ready to go.

You were so excited to see them it almost confused you. Why do you like them so much , honestly, you didn’t know them that well even. You couldn’t help it , being around them felt right in every way.

———————————————————

You heard two horn beeps come from outside your apartment. You scramble to the window and see a stretch limo below you, a smiling Danny Wagner hanging out of the sun roof. You practically squeal , grab your phone and run down stairs. When you open the door the boys pile out of the limo to greet you.

“Oh baby” josh winces upon seeing your outfit. His face looked as if though you looked so good it hurt him.

“Enough eye candy?” You question gesturing to yourself.

“You look gorgeous” Sam says grabbing your hand and leading you into a limo.

“Wow you guys get limo rides to your shows? Man My manager just gives me 5 bucks for gas” you joke. Jake laughs loudly as he climbs in the seat next to you.

“It’s good to see you again (y/n)” Jake chimes with a glistening smile, as he rakes his fingers over his head and through his hair. As he moved you caught a whiff of his cologne , it was sweet and very subtle not at all the scent you thought he’d go with.

As the limo begins to move your eyes move to josh who was already looking at you with a hind of mischief on his face. You wondered what he was thinking about.

“You want a drink love?” He asked. Hearing him call you love made your knees weak. His voice was so enticing , like melted chocolate. You wondered if he tasted like melted chocolate too. That satire thought escapes your mind through your mouth as you say “yeah I’d love a drink” you answer, clearing dirty thoughts from your head.

“Southern and seven right?” He asks holding up a bottle of southern comfort.

“Yeah!” You chime , happy he remembered your drink.

“Good because I bought this just for you, girl” josh informs. Your cheeks are blushing and you know it, you can feel the tingling burn on your face.

“Aw you made her blush” Sam comments running his index finger gently down your cheek. Josh looks over to you as he pours your drink. His eyes scan your face , lingering a bit on your lips. He looked at you with hunger as if you were sitting there naked and waiting for his touch. That image sent chills down your spine, he winks at you as he hands you your drink. Suddenly your throat feels dry so you chug the drink with an exasperated sigh when you finish.

“Jesus” Danny says with a chuckle.

“Get her another one” Sam speaks taking your empty glass from you and handing it back to josh. You heard a lighter spark to your right , Jake was lighting a blunt.

Oh that’s why he was being so quiet.

His lips rest around the end and he inhales watching the cherry burn as the smoke slips into his mouth, brushing over her succulent rose lips. He looks at you and smiles as he holds the smoke in then passes you the blunt as he releases.

You take two hits making “O’s” with the smoke as you exhale with a giggle.

“I can do that too” Danny says excitedly, you pass him the blunt and he gives it a try.

“Hmmm no. You can’t” josh states , all of you laugh at Danny’s sad attempt.

“You’ll get it one day” Sam chimes with a smile.

The limo was full of smoke now, you looked around at the boys through the hazy fog. Everyone is quiet now , you sipping your drink and watching the world pass by put the window. The alcohol and the weed were begging to take affect. The alcohol warmed your body while the weed pulled your mind into alleviation... a lusty combination. You were so calm in this moment , you knew this was exactly where you belonged, it just felt right and you hadn’t had the privilege to get that sense of fleeing very many times in your life.

———————————————————

Jakes hand reaches for you, offering his help as you step out of the limo, you accept and thank him. The sun still hung in the sky, blinding the earth unapologetically. The sunshine felt good casted over your skin, with your head still swimming in an elegant haze.

Josh grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him , his hand stays at your hips as you all walk through the door.

“I’m glad you’re hear, love” he coos in your ear before gently kissing your ear lobe. Your knees buckle causing you to wobble slightly, Josh tightens his grip on you and smiles

“Oh she likes it she likes it” he purrs with a wink.

Yeah. you loved it. You wanted more of him, you couldn’t stand the sexual tension anymore, you wanted to feel him and taste him , to know him in that way.

The bar was packed with people , you were sort of surprised. Josh said this wasn’t going to be a big show but it looked pretty big to you, there were people everywhere. Danny hops on the stage and begins tending to his drum set ,making small changes in its position.

“We gotta go on wish us luck” Sam chimes giving you a side hug.

“You don’t need luck Sammy, you guys are the best” you reply before he and Jake join Danny on stage. Josh plays with a piece of your hair , twirling it around his finger looking at you.

“I’m singing for you tonight girly” he whispers , his voice slick with liquor.

His hand trails down your cheek gently as he just looks at you. Seconds later he winks and joins his brothers on stage taking the microphone in his hand. Already the audience was forming and cheering for the boys. You found yourself right in front of the stage, a mass of people on either side of you and the smell of alcohol and smoke hung in the air.

Josh introduced the guys before Jake started to play the opening for ‘when the curtain falls’. A chorus of cheers and motion erupting from the crowd. Josh’s voice was all you could hear, the freeing sound of his bluesy rasp send vibrations through the building. His voice flooded from his mouth and filled the air like bright red fireworks exploding in the sky. He was so talented. The sound of Jakes guitar slices through you like a lightening bolt of sound and energy. Danny’s drums pounded into the crowd, his strong, muscular arms in control of it all. The sound of sam’s bass flooded over you like huge purple waves of calming spirit. He played that bass like it was all he knew how to do, like it was part of him. Song after song the boys held this vitality and vigor and the crowd was eating it up. Josh walked off to the side of the stage for a second before returning with something behind his back. Arms were reaching for him as he walked to the edge of the stage , his eyes meet yours and he brings a rose out from behind him and reaches to hand it to you



You can hear the jealous gasps of girls around you. You smile up at him before he brings the microphone to his lips once more and continues singing. You smell the rose and feel those familiar butterflies in your stomach again. You were in awe, these boys had such raw talent and capability. You know a band is good when they make a bar show feel like a sold out arena. enjoying the music you moved with the crowd , the songs taking control of your body and mind , you forget there’s people around you, you are thrown into a world of your own. You don’t open your eyes again until josh announces that the show was over and offers his thanks and goodbyes to the crowd.

Josh jumps off the stage in immediately walks to you.

“Come here” he utters his hands grab your face before he presses his lips to yours. You are caught off guard but you let him do it, you wanted this just as much as he did. You didn’t know what had gotten into him , perhaps the adrenaline from a wonderful show.

His tongue licks your bottom lip asking for permission before you open your mouth and let his tongue slip in, deepening the kiss and the passion. His hand was now behind your head and wrapped around your waist pulling you further into him. A small moan escapes your lips unintentionally but you couldn’t help it. He balls your hair in his fist as he continues to kiss you.

When he lets you go your face is flushed and his chest is rising and falling with desire. The rest of the night was spent drowning in liquor.

Eventually bar time came around and it was time to get back in the limo. You all stumbled in, you got in first then josh sat on your left and Danny on your right Jake and Sam sat in the seats across from you.

When the limo pulled up to your apartment you sighed sad to leave.

Danny put his arm around you and gave you a hug wishing you a good nights sleep. Sam and Jake did the same , Josh got out and walked to your door to help you out.

He smiles as he walks you to your porch.

“Let me see your phone” he says reaching for it in your pocket. You pull it out and hand it to him happily. He presses a few buttons before handing it back to you.

“There now you have my number “ he says flashing you a smirk.

“Awesome, I’ll text you in a little while to make sure you guys got home ok, give my number to the other guys too ok?” You chime as his hand grabs yours.

“I will” he promises before kissing you on the cheek.

“Thank you for coming tonight” he adds, his voice was softer now.

“Of course it was super fun and you guys did great” you reply. Josh looks back at the limo.

“We should hangout sometime just me and you yeah? We can go to dinner this Saturday if you want, would you like that?” He offers.

“Yeah that sounds great Josh!” You beam. Josh lifts your hand to his lips kissing it gently, looking you in the eye.

“Goodnight (y/n)” he coos

“Goodnight josh” you smile. He winks as he gets back in the limo , you wave until the car is out of sight.

———————————————————

In the week that passed you had gotten in touch with all of the boys , josh did as you asked and gave them all your number, you talked to at least one of them every day.

Tonight was your big date with josh and you were so excited. You found the perfect outfit and couldn’t wait for him to see you in it.

Just then your phone vibrates, you pick it up and look at the message.

Josh: hey girlie , I hate this but I have to cancel our date tonight ... something came up I’m so sorry , I really wanted to see you but I can’t get out of this, I’ll make it up to you though I promise

Your heart sinks as you read the message, you felt upset for josh and hoped everything was ok but at the same time you were really sad that you couldn’t go out with him now.

Y: oh no I hope everything is ok Josh, no worries we will hangout some other time ❣️

You set your phone down and walk to your room to change out of your new outfit. You grab jogging pants and an old ‘quiet riot’ t shirt and head to your living room to spend an uneventful night on the couch.

Hours later you’re scrolling through Instagram. When a post josh is tagged catches your eye. You look at the date and see it was posted one hour ago. It was a picture of him and some girl at a mini golf course. You deflate when you read the caption.

“Fun night with Joshy❣️”

“Something came up huh josh...” you say to yourself with disappointment.

You look at the girls name ‘Andrea hartnet ’.

You flip to your messaging and click on Danny’s name.

Y: hey Danny, does josh know anyone named Andrea?

A few seconds pass before he responded

D: yeah that’s his ex, why?

—————————————————-

To be continued