#i cannot forgive killing a dog

[reggiepeters-love-bot]

the worst thing henry winter did was poison that dog

[teruel-a-witch]

something something danny had a dog before he met rachel

then she took the dog in the divorce (that was petty af wtf) and dragged the poor senior dog to hawai'i where it died during a two week quarantine so danny didn't even get to say goodbye

something something steve wasn't a dog person but ended up getting a dog

then he left hawai'i and left the dog with danny

at least this time danny got the dog, so that's somewhat an improvement? lol idk

[divinesolas]

Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond

a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two

Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.

They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.

The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.

You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.

“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”

He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.

He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.

“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”

Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.

With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.

You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.

despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.

“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.

You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.

“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.

“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”

“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”

“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”

He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.

“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”

he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.

“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.

you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.

“you’re pathetic.”

[mcflymemes]

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i hate these guys.

this is a new experience for me.

it happens to me all the time.

you lost today, [name]. but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

may we go home now, please?

i've got a lot of fond memories of that dog.

he sticks out like a sore thumb. we'll find him.

does anyone here speak english?

what are you hiding?

archaeology is the search for fact, not truth.

forget any ideas you've got about lost cities, exotic travel, and digging up the world.

we do not follow maps to buried treasure, and "x" never... ever marks the spot.

70% of all archaeology is done in the library. researching. reading.

we cannot afford to take mythology at face value.

help me get us out of here.

are you kidding? i made all that up.

she talks in her sleep.

try not to talk.

give me your other hand. i can't hold on.

i can get it. i can almost reach it.

[name], let it go.

those people are trying to kill us.

i didn't know you could fly a plane.

our situation has not improved.

i'm as human as the next man.

i'm like a bad penny, i always turn up.

throw down the gun or the girl will die.

no! don't shoot!

please do what he says!

[name], what are you doing here?

head for the fireplace!

why are you sitting there resting when we're so near the end?

don't look at me like that.

i would have done anything to get it. you would have done the same.

i'm sorry you think so.

i'll never forgive myself.

thank god... it's fake.

look, can we discuss this later?

i came here to save you!

look what you did! i can't believe what you did!

i'll never forget how wonderful it was.

you have chosen wisely.

did you intend to leave us standing on the doorstep all day?

now look, i've gone and caught a sniffle.

don't take that tone with me!

this is the second time i've had to reclaim my property from you.

that belongs in a museum.

why are you trying to kill us?

my soul is prepared. how's yours?

what have you brought?

i'm sorry about your head. i thought that you were one of them.

you came back for the book?

is that what you think of me?

who gives a damn what you believe?

follow me. i know the way.

i find that if i just sit down to think... the solution presents itself.

in this sort of race, there's no silver medal for finishing second.

we didn't talk. we've never talked.

what are you complaining about?

you could go down in history.

you're going the wrong way.

the pen is mightier than the sword.

are you crazy? don't go between them!

my reputation preceeds me.

it would make me very happy.

shooting me won't get you anywhere.

we're well out of range.

you call this archaeology?

we are on the verge of completing a quest that began almost two thousand years ago.

we're just one step away.

since i've met you, i've nearly been incinerated, drowned, shot at, and chopped into fish bait.

we're caught in the middle of something sinister here.

you're a great deal like your father.

how dare you kiss me.

leave me alone. i don't like fast women.

you say this has been just another typical day for you, huh?

you're meddling with powers you can't possibly comprehend.

if only i could have been there with you.

[ngayawneluoer]

we seek revenge

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam x reader (past), neytiri x reader (platonic), tbh mostly just a spider hate fic, if you like spider you’re prolly not gonna like this lol

Time doesn't seem to heal the wound of losing you mate, and when the sky people return and you learn the truth, no one can stop you from seeking revenge. Set a year after the events of ATWOW.

word count: 1700

a/n: pov you and neytiri form a spider hate club and beat his ass (sort of)

Even a year later, every breath you took without Neteyam felt like eternal punishment. Every moment you felt the loss of your mate and every step you took without him was only a reminder that you would never feel whole again. Every day, you suffered and mourned the pair you could have been and the life you could have lived, and every night you prayed that Eywa would bring him back or take you with him. But it was never that simple.

And so, you busied yourself with the daily tasks of the Metkayina, your head held high and your face unwavering. At least you had Neytiri, who never seemed to leave your side since her son's death. You mourned, suffered, and cried together, and as time passed, you helped each other get back on your feet and brave the world. To her, you were one final living piece of her son, his other half and the one he loved most, and she couldn't help but love you in turn. She had become like a mother to you, and whilst you knew you would never be able to replace Neteyam, your shared memories of him brought you closer together. And obviously, you bore the whole Sully family in your heart, but you and Neytiri had developed a special bond through the pain you shared and the rage you held for the sky demons that had so mercilessly killed the one you loved.

Another thing you shared with Neytiri was the wariness you felt towards Spider, who Jake had wholly accepted into the family following Neteyam's death. You had grown up around him, but being nothing more than a regular Omatikaya with almost no interaction with humans, you never were the most comfortable with him. The emotion had only doubled after his 'father' brought about the war that killed your beloved. Those around you started accepting him, but you kept your distance, as did Neytiri. You couldn't find it in your hearts to forgive him.

“(Y/N)! Come swim with us!"

The voice broke your train of thought, and you looked up from the bracelet you were weaving. From where you sat next to Neytiri, your eyes found Kiri waving at you from amongst the group of Na'vi youths splashing about in the water. You noticed Spider was there too, practically clinging to her side like a pathetic dog. You tried not to roll your eyes.

"No thank you, Kiri," You answered loud enough for her to hear, trying your hardest to mask the venom in your voice, "Later."

A sad pout graced her face for a mere second, and you knew what was coming. You usually rejected her offers, and she would rarely take no for an answer, opting instead to drag you into the group and make it so that you had no choice but to participate. Sometimes she would even send Tuk to guilt trip you into joining with those adorable eyes of hers, knowing you could never say no to Tuk.

You knew Kiri meant well; she simply saw you pull away and didn't want you to feel left out. Lucky for you, this time she was distracted by Rotxo pulling her tail, and she forgot all about her usual routine of demanding you to join. Better this way. You wouldn't have enjoyed yourself anyway.

Neytiri looked up from the arrow she was crafting, a somewhat curious look on her face. She spoke quietly, deliberately to keep the conversation private from possible overhearers, "I don't see you with those your age lately," her fingers continued crafting, but her focus was still on you, awaiting an answer. Finally, when your gaze didn't shift from where it was fixed onto your hands, she continued, "I cannot be your only friend."

You sighed softly, eyes brimming with tears that you were afraid would spill if you met her gaze, "I do not... want to see him," you knew she knew who you meant from the way you spat out the word as if it was poison on your tongue, "it hurts too much."

You finally bit the bullet and looked up at her, only to find her gaze looking off into the distance, following the human boy you were referring to. Her features twisted into anger as if in the process of a hiss, "He shouldn't be here. He should be with his kind."

"I agree," you started, but didn't know what else to say. There was nothing you could do.

Neytiri hesitated for a second but eventually uttered the words you had a feeling swirled through her mind every day, "I... cannot help but blame him. He is not just a child. He is a demon's child. He will bring nothing but trouble... But I cannot bring it up with anyone but you."

You could tell from how she spoke that she had had this conversation before. You wondered if this was a frequent argument she had with Jake, who was so adamant about accepting Spider into their family.

"I don't understand how they can so easily accept him. I know he is not responsible for his father's actions, but…." you trailed off at a loss for words. But what? You weren't sure where you were going with this. And with Spider so close by, you were hesitant to confess the hatred you held for him simply due to his heritage out loud.

Neytiri understood though. She always did.

She dropped the arrow she was crafting from her hand and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side to comfort you, "You are not alone. I see you."

You leaned into her motherly touch, revelling in the comfort she provided, "I see you."

-

But comfort never seemed to last for your kind. The sky people returned, led by the man that didn't seem to die. Your people fought his soldiers bravely, some winning, some losing, but you could safely say you had done more damage to them than they had to you.

"How many times do we have to kill you!" You heard Jake hiss from somewhere, but you were too preoccupied with fighting off the armed soldier in front of you. With a final swift move, you drove your dagger into the avatar soldier's neck, your fangs bared in a hiss as blood sprayed across your face. Briskly, you sheathed your blade into its scabbard and let the body drop, turning back to the dying battle. The sky people were retreating. They were cowards and had finally realised they were severely underprepared. They would be back, they always were, but you revelled in the fact that you didn't die at their hand today.

One of them remained, however. To everyone's shock, Quaritch in the flesh had shown up. He stood proudly with a gun pointed at Jake - Jake pointing one back - knowing that the mere fact that he was alive was rubbing salt in the wound. His return brought back memories of your previous battle with him, and you snarled; eyes focused on the conniving man that stood before you. A thick metal cable fell from the sky behind him, undoubtedly how he would make his escape into the helicopter above. You wouldn't allow it.

As you advanced, you heard Jake hiss again, "How are you alive?"

Quaritch only smirked, attaching himself to the cable, "The answer is simple, Jake. I am, and always will be, better than you," His gaze left Jake and switched to someone far behind you all, and he winked. "Thanks for the save, kid."

…What?

Your blood froze and your muscles tensed, barely registering the sound of the Colonel escaping. It felt like the world had stilled; everyone around you was frozen and unable to breathe as they processed the words that had been spoken mere seconds ago.

You could barely process the faces that surrounded you as you slowly turned, following the direction of where the Colonel had been looking. You should have known.

The world around you disappeared, voices echoing as you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat. All you knew was the pure anger rushing through your veins and the pathetic human boy standing a few meters away in your line of sight. His eyes met yours. You had never seen such pure, primal terror in anyone's eyes before.

"What did he mean?" You seethed, voice muted as your features twisted in anger. You began taking steps towards Spider, which seemed to trigger Kiri into holding you back.

"(Y/N), wait," She grabbed your arm to try to hold you back, muttering something about how you should relax and how it could have been a misunderstanding, but you snatched your arm back. You knew what you heard.

"Speak!" You screamed, making Spider flinch. He remained quiet, seemingly unable to defend himself, "You saved that man?"

"I.." Spider began taking a step back but came to a sudden halt as he heard the subtle sound of the pull of a bow. Your gaze flickered behind him for just a second, and you saw Neytiri with an arrow pointed straight at his head, a snarl as equally vicious as yours on her face.

"Neytiri, no!" "Mother, please don't hurt him!"

You and Neytiri barely registered the voices.

You took another step forward, your figure towering over Spider.

"That man is responsible for Neteyam's death," Your voice shook and your tail flicked behind you with anger as you spoke - everyone seemed to fall quiet, "And you saved him?"

Spider had the intelligence to keep quiet, at least. Unfortunately, what he didn't have was the courage to look you in the eye.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" You screamed, startling Spider. His head tilted up, and his fearful eyes met yours. His face was scrunched with pain and guilt, but it meant nothing to you. "He went back for you! He wanted to save you! He died because of you!"

You unsheathed your dagger, the dry blood on its sharp blade a symbol of the fate the boy in front of you would face.

"And you will die because of me."

-

a/n: If we don’t get a scene of Neytiri killing Spider’s ass in Avatar 3 I will sue

p.s I made an ask box request things pls and ty

[rpmemes-galore]

raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters

"Then perish."

"Pick a god and pray."

"Even fate picks its favorites."

"Everything happens so much."

"I pity the fool that lives like you."

"Then become the dirt I walk on."

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

"I am a monument to all your sins."

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

"If you want me to die you can just say so."

"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

"We might be in the history God abandoned."

"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."

"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."

"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."

"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."

"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."

"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"

"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."

"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."

"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."

"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."

"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"

"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."

"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."

"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."

"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

[kurim-chis]

blade/yingxing x reader scenario:

kurim: blade’s past name was yingxing, supposedly

(blade sees your smile, beautiful and loving and inviting as he remembers you to be — when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and pretends he can have this, at the very least. you were so lovely, so very lovely, and the man he once was - yingxing - had truly loved you in a way he could not love anyone else)

you and yingxing were lovers, decades ago when he was still part of Xianzhou and you a person he fell in love with, yingxing liked building you trinkets and taking you to eat during the weekends and seeing your smile and he would throw hands with jing yuan because he always teased him and called him a love sick puppy

you and yingxing were some of the short-lived species in Xianzhou, you were content in XXXX area and yingxing was a genius amongst genius in crafting, building and creating tools, machinery, weapons and works of arts.

you and yingxing had your whole life planned out, it was not hard to when there was so much to do and so little time to do it, but you two are determined to make your lives count despite the looming threat of the abundance hanging over their head and the wars Xianzhou has to partake in and how nothing is determined in life, but you two love each other, but then this happens, but then that happens, but but butbutbutbut—

yingxing becomes mara-struck.

yingxing kills you in his first mara-struck rampage/haze.

yingxing will forever remember it - your blood is very warm and wet, even as he drops to his knees and tries tries tries but there’s nothing he can do because you’re already dead — he might have screamed, howled until his throat burst and his lungs collapsed and mended themselves, he might’ve had fought against jingliu too as well, he doesn’t quite know. he cannot remember anything apart from a red haze, doesn’t remember if you had screamed or tried to fight back or tried running away, but one look at you shows just how horrible a death you had experienced in your last moments. blade will have forever etched the image of your mangled body in his memory, because of course yingxing will have.

this is the first step towards the death of yingxing’s ego, and what will eventually create blade, an abomination who seeks for death and yet is denied time and time again, who is only left with vengeance and violence as a driving force for moving and breathing and fighting because he has nothing else

yingxing was a man who committed many great mistakes and paid for it with everything in his life, including the one he loved

blade is the remains of that man’s ego, the hatred and grief and anger and obsession and destruction and love, a monster given eternal life and reduced to a mad dog of destiny’s slave, all for the sake of reaching paradise

blade lives for the sake of dying — he lives for death, for vengeance, for the possibility of paradise

(blade sees your smile, beautiful and loving and inviting as he remembers you to be — you smile and smile and smile, perhaps a little sad but as lovely as he remembers and he wants to reach out for you with his bloodied hands, but you are unreachable, a ghost of his past, the victim of his sins, and he can do nothing but watch you stand on the other side of the river of stars. blade thinks that you’re as lovely as yingxing remembers you to be, waving at him, smiling at him, always smiling at him)

elio promises an ending to his wretched existence.

blade will stop at absolutely nothing to reach his desired paradise.

(you smile at him, and blade thinks that you still look so very lovely, decades after your death)

i’m sorry, i’m sorry, forgive me, forgive me, it was all my fault, if only i hadn’t—

(you only smile, and then blade opens his eyes to find his mangled body healing and mending and stitching together again)

.

[nightlyrequiem]

alrighty sooohhh this might be worded oddly since im used to requesting certain writers who use certain words to describe 'y/n', so, like, forgive me if it sounds confusing or like, out-of-place 😭

could u do a Valeria oneshot with reader, her partner, whos also a big, hardened criminal, -- who runs another cartel, -- not a rivaling one, just a different one, which was forced to alliance themselves with Valerias cartel, after her and reader made themselves official

They're both big, mean cartel mamis, who have killed people, without second thought, not even a blink of an eye -- two women, making old men cry and piss themselves on the regular, -- yet, when reader and Val are together, they're just two appreciative softies

Total power couple in public btw. They're both covered in tattoos, wearing expensive clothes, earning more and more respect from more and more people as their empires grow,

when in private? Thats a completely different story. You got the jist, though.

Again, i apologize if this is worded wrongly/strangely, ive adapted my writing style to certain people, and physically cannot write in any other way without feeling weird about it .. aha. Giggle, giggle.

much love, traveling anon, aka, girlscout

-🐾🍪🏕

Don't worry, this was worded very nicely! This was pretty fun to write. I do enjoy some violence. Especially when it's being done by women. One dangerous woman is great, but two? Oh, I'm certainly swooning. This is one of my few works to have two drafts. I hated the first one and scrapped it. Much more pleased with the final product ^-^

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Some Gore

The Snake's Nest

Valeria slams her fist into the side of a man's head. He roughly hits the brick wall of the alley and crumples to the ground, clutching his face. His cheekbone no doubt shattered. You watch impassively as Valeria aggressively grabs ahold of his shirt and hair, hauling him away from the wall. She forces his face into the concrete. You kneel down gracefully.

"Why are you crying?" You ask softly. He did this to himself, yet he dares to cry. Your head tilts. He looks up at you, the whites of his eyes are pink with agitated blood vessels, either from the number of drinks he's had, the crying, or from the beating he's taking.

"Please!" He cries out. Begging for your mercy. Incorrectly assuming that you're the more merciful of the two. That you'll call of your guard dog, unaware that you are far worse. He's lucky that it's Valeria and not you.

You stand back to your full height. The man continues to squirm and incoherently sob out pleas. Valeria lifts one strong leg and brings it down on his head hard. You don't flinch at the violent cracking that occurs. His scream is cut off and distorted. She brings down her foot again and again until he goes silent. You turn your head and make eye contact with his friend. forced to crouch in the corner and watch. His face is haunted by what he's just witnessed. He will be left alone. Forced to pick up his friend's pieces and attempt to put them back together. You look back at the man on the ground with Valeria standing over him like an angel of death. You don't think there's strong enough glue to fix him now.

You take ahold of her soft hand. Brushing your thumb over her bruised knuckles. You two walk out of the alley. Your shadows split and morph together under the yellow streetlights. Valeria owns these streets, but you run them. With your combined forces you exert total control over everything. Eyes and ears are everywhere whispering their secrets to you. You and Valeria are separate but one in the same.

You were carefully nurturing the seedlings of your own cartel when Valeria was taking over hers and striking fear into the heart of Las Almas. She had what you wanted. Power, respect, and fear. You planted a few red herrings in her territory to give her a mystery to solve while you expanded your organization. You did whatever was necessary to succeed. Who it harmed didn't matter to you. You grew and grew. You got big enough that the small red herrings didn't matter to Valeria. She sent her men to sniff around your territory and routes. Not a show of outright aggression but a subtle threat from her to you.

For months you danced around each other. Trespassing but nothing more. There was a fragile peace between the two of you, one you intended to shatter. You quietly built-up strength in preparation to take over Las Almas and eliminate her and her cartel. The DEA was an unpredictable variable though. They began cracking down on the drug market. An infestation of them nested in Las Almas and its surrounding areas. Posing a genuine threat to the both of you. Your plans were put on hold, and you took the initiative to approach her with an offer of allegiance. Tempting her with territory and more firepower.

You two met on a burning Tuesday morning. You were to meet with El Sin Nombre at a local cafe. Instead, at your designated spot sat a woman. It took you five minutes to approach her. At first you were irritated that El Sin Nombre didn't respect you enough to meet you himself, but you swiftly figured out he was a concept and not a person. That she was The Nameless.

You intended to use Valeria as a way to take down the DEA without drawing too much attention to yourself. However, overtime you began to respect her. She was cold and calculating. She wasn't the type to waste her breath with meaningless threats. If you failed to be useful, she didn't waste her time in getting rid of you. Overtime she slowly dug her way through the ice around your heart and wormed her way inside like a little parasite. The sun had risen and finally set on the DEA. There was no reason to cradle the connection between the two cartels any longer but neither you nor Valeria made the first move to cut contact.

Your strictly business relationship flowered into something more. Something personal. The same hands that pulled teeth and put bullets between eyes lovingly traced the edges of her tattoos. Whispered sweet nothings into her ear at night, your legs coiled together like snakes after coitus. No one had ever treated you gently. Never kissed your hand or made you soup when you were sick. Those things were reserved for girls who were soft like velvet. Pure and kind. Not violent women with serpentine tattoos. Who sunk their teeth into the throats of others. Not until Valeria. Who bared her throat to you and bit back.

She clasped heavy gold chains around your neck with as much tenderness that one might do with a daintier piece of jewelry. You slid expensive rings onto her fingers with unspoken promises. 

The night isn't over, and neither is the need for violence. Not that either of you have any issue with that. Normal couples have date nights at the movies. Maybe a nice restaurant. You and Valeria strengthen your bond by inflicting pain and terror on lower life forms. In a warehouse eyes glitter from the shadows. A combination of hers and your own men. Valeria typically takes care of the interrogation and punishment. You have no issue with blood or violence. You take enjoyment it. But the sight of her lips pulled back into a feral snarl, her vicious efficiency, it makes you fall in love with her all over again.

This time however, you take the lead. A tall man, standing at an impressive six-foot-four stares you down in the centre of the room. He was a friend, once upon a time. Your second hand. The only person apart from Valeria you genuine cared about. The only other person you'd be willing to set yourself aside for. You were heartbroken to find out he was taking bribes from a smaller gang and trading your secrets for money. This is personal.

He's doing his best to seem unafraid, but you can see the fear in his eyes. Smell it in the acrid stench of his sweat.

"I'm not going to grovel for your forgiveness." He grumbles.

"I wasn't going to give you the chance to." You reply calmly. He's expecting more words. Maybe a monologue about how angry or hurt you are. You stare at him for a long time, letting the tension build. Higher and higher and higher. Until too many stagnant minutes have passed and with them his moment of understanding. Only then do you act. 

Quick as a scorpion's strike you stick him like a pig in the gut. he hisses in pain and tries to grab you but you're too quick for him. You kick out his knee and dart behind him, ripping your blade from his stomach. He howls like a dog while you hold him by the throat with your bicep. You place the tip of your knife in the squishy bit just under his ribs, in the middle of his abdomen. You struggle to keep the placement as he writhes but you get it right and push in, feeling muscle and skin tear under the steel. His screams echo back at him mockingly as you drag the knife down, tearing him open.

He slumps to the ground in a pool of his own blood. One last pained whine leaving his throat. You stare up at everyone watching. A public lesson. Though you can see that they're more entertained by the show then worried.

Back home you carefully strip out of your blood-soaked clothes. Setting them down in the laundry hamper. You crawl into bed and watch Valeria do the same. Admiring the smooth tan expanse of her back. Of the muscles shifting under her skin. You want to trace the ridges of her spine. She joins you under the covers and rests her face into the crook of your neck. Breathing in your scent. 

[falkarph]

ELDEN RING STARTERS

rp prompts taken from the video game elden ring by fromsoftware. some have been edited.

❛ death has left its mark once again. ❜ ❛ the talk, i surmise, is of you. ❜ ❛ i feel as if i've been in your debt from beginning to end. ❜ ❛ don't you dare. unless you want to die like a dog. ❜ ❛ not only are you incompetent, but shameless to boot. ❜ ❛ i apologise for any offence given by my bearing, but i'm quite unable to move, you see. ❜ ❛ i just wanted to get the apology out of the way, beforehand. since you're so scary and all. ❜ ❛ oh, my dear... had a change of heart already? ❜ ❛ i see. then you must kill me. ❜ ❛ beautifully fought. my thanks, 'twas more of a challenge than i envisioned. ❜ ❛ i want to be like everyone else, but i'm just too scared. ❜ ❛ are you so far out of your mind with fear... you've divested yourself of all reason? ❜ ❛ it is safe here. you may let down your guard. ❜ ❛ you are fated, it seems, to die in obscurity. ❜ ❛ someone must extinguish your flame. ❜ ❛ i suppose you'd like to know then? what awaits you on the path ahead? ❜ ❛ you will witness true horror. ❜ ❛ forgive me, i've been ... testing you. ❜ ❛ no secrets lie with me, not a one. ❜ ❛ you, yeah, you there! stop pretending you can't see me. ❜ ❛ you bloody halfwit. picking a fight with a dragon? ❜ ❛ a man cannot kill a god. ❜ ❛ perhaps it is foolish to say this to you of all people, but i am sure of my skill with the sword. ❜ ❛ if it's on the cards, i'd be glad to meet again. ❜ ❛ though the suffering cannot be undone, i can still mete out justice. ❜ ❛ never met someone with a taste for crab i couldn't trust. ❜ ❛ and when the fighting is done, then you may lay me to rest. ❜ ❛ honestly, i don't know what's going on anymore ... ❜ ❛ i know... i'm asking you to commit a cardinal sin. ❜ ❛ the depths of wickedness never fail to surprise me. ❜ ❛ perhaps before my departure, i needed someone to say farewell to. ❜ ❛ i always resented these hands. their pale complexion, a far cry from any warrior's. ❜ ❛ tell me a story... about the big, wide world... ❜ ❛ kill me, please... ❜ ❛ i hope you understand the weight of my words. ❜ ❛ what are you waiting for? a kiss goodbye? ❜

[fleetingcalypso]

I saw you write for Henry Winter, and since seldom someone here does actually write about him I'd love to send you an idea, if you're comfortable with it of course<3

Since I'm on my period and my cramps are so painful I physically cannot stand them, I was wondering about how Henry would react if his s/o was sick and forced to stay in their bed because of their cramps. Maybe he'd take care of them because he understands how it feels to be in so much pain you're incapacitated?

≋ I hope your pain can soon be alleviated, my friend, I'l pray for you to be in good health. For the meantime, I reccomend sweet treats, warm beverages and if needed do not be afraid to benefit from modern day medicine.

≋ Henry Winter x AFAB!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 535 words.

≋ CW: Reader is AFAB and suffers from period pains, but it can be read as GN!Reader for there are no feminine pronouns included.

Each month that goes by, without fail, I am reminded of the curse that an apparently caring and forgiving God cast upon Eve. A cycle of agony is what welcomes me every twenty-eight days: bones aching, muscles sore and head throbbing.  Even my divine savior cannot lift this burden off my shoulder, all he can do is sit by my side in his bed as my body writhes and suffers. “You could have told me,” He scolds me, “I wouldn’t have asked you to come.” And now he twists the knife. Doesn’t he realize? If I have to suffer I want it to be with him stroking my lower back, I want it to be with him pushing my face in the crook of his neck, I want it with him handling me as though I am a first edition book in his collection. 

“Do you need anything?” What kindness there is, hidden behind his cold tone. I can feel it as it envelops me and does what little it can to make the pain in my lower stomach fade. “I can make you tea, if you’d like.”

My head shakes in a silent denial. I wish I could tell him, it kills me that all I can do is burrow myself in his bedsheets, breathe in his cologne and hope this damnation comes soon to an end. 

He scoffs. It’s not of annoyance, not towards me at the very least, I know that. I know it because his fingers push strands of my hair away from my face with a gentleness I rarely felt in my life, his thumb rests on my bottom lip and even with my eyes closed I can feel his gaze penetrating through my core and inhabiting my very soul.

The bed shifts under his weight when he lays down, my body finds its rightful spot right between his arms. My life before I met him feels like purgatory, a mindless wandering about life, meaningless until fate brought him to me. 

“Thank you.” I attempt to express my gratitude in what little voice I have, even thinking about speaking feels like a dagger cutting through my flesh. He shushes me. His lips have deemed me worthy of their protection, I feel it when he kisses my forehead.

Outside of this corner of heaven, in the real world, I can hear a dog barking and birds chirping. Henry makes a comment that barely reaches my ears, something about shutting that dog up. I’m not too sure, because before I can comprehend just how tired I am, Henry’s scent is somniferous to me: combined with the warm hand rubbing my aching invisible wounds, the intoxicating fragrance of cigarettes, whiskey, sandalwood and roses makes its way into my lungs.

There is no lullaby, no sweet song to drag me into rest. All it takes is His presence, my dearest deity. He holds me in his sacred heaven, allows me to feel safe after having held up my walls for so long I forgot what the horizon looked like. I pray to him in my sleep. And by the way his arms tighten around me, I can only assume he is welcoming my prayer.

[to-the-stars8]

Twin Flames

Asra x MC Summary: The final argument that results in Asra leaving, and you all alone.

“There is a ship leaving in an hour,” Asra said, eyes panicked and pleading. “Come with me, it is all I'll ever ask of you again. For me.”

At one point, Asra could have asked you for the world, and you would have given it to him. Now, as you looked at him, you decided not. There had been too many lonely nights thinking over the same broken promise, and you would not fall deeper into his pit of distant love. 

Yet, you knew that, if you came to it, there would be no worry. Asra would take care of you, and the two of you could lay under a tree in a foreign land in each other's arms. You felt dread at the thought. It was a tragedy that all the hope in the beginning had come down to disappointment and frustration. It exhausted you, wearing your mind thin. As it did his. You could see it, the way the weight of your distance and separate desires carried him down. 

Sucking in a breath and averting your eyes, you listened to the silence of the city. It once bloomed with excitement, and it had been so loud that it made you feel alive. Then, the plague had swept through so fast, killing it. It made you want to stay despite your love’s cries to run. Whether you desired to save the constant excitement so you would feel a little less alone, or the good nature you liked to think you had, you did not wish to know. 

“Leave if you must,” You said. “But do not ask this of me.”

Asra’s eyes were filled with tears, but he refused to acknowledge them. He shook his head. “Please, you have to—For me. You forget that you promised to always be with me.”

Anger tore through you. He dared to say that when he left you alone so often. Scoffing, you stepped away from him as you were afraid of what your rage would make you do. You began to cry, and a thousand curses passed through your mind. You wanted to hate Asra, to be able to cast him aside, but he had loved you so well and deeply despite the shortcomings. 

“You—” You sucked in a breath. “You cannot expect me to uphold a promise you never kept.”

“I have asked for your forgiveness a thousand times, and will do so a thousand more if you wish.” Asra looked ready to beg on his hands and knees. “You must come. People here are dying like flies, and will die before I let you suffer the same!”

“Then I hope we burn on the same pile of bodies so we will never part again,” The words did not feel like yours. They were heavier, darker. 

You regarded one another silently before Asra could no longer hold himself up. He collapsed onto the couch, head in hand. You did not move toward him. 

“Please,” Asra whispered. “For me.”

“You are selfish,” You said. 

Asra looked like a kicked dog, but your sorrow and anger would not allow any pity. No, you almost felt justified to hurt him, as nasty as it felt to admit. Either way, he did not deny your words. “You are not the only person in this city. I can help people here—I have the means to.”

Asra stood again, rushing to you with arms out and palms up, confused. “And what then, hm? If you find the cure do you think Lucio would let you be regarded as the hero?”

“No! How can you not understand?” You faced him now, eye to eye. “These are our friends! People that have been part of our lives for years—”

“Damn them all! None of them matter if they are not you,” He cried, grabbing at you desperately.  

“You would say that of Muriel? ” You yelled. 

Asra scoffed before turning his back on you. On his shoulders Faust curled tight around him, unused to her master’s anger and yours. “You know I did not mean that. I have offered for Muriel to come with us, but he is safe outside the walls of the city.”

You did not wish to say he was right, so you quieted. Wiping your eyes, you let your anger finally resolve and reach for him. When your hand met his shoulder, Asra jerked away, eyes turning to narrow onto you. 

“Asra,” You said. “I am going to stay. Leave, it will give me comfort to know that you are safe. My heart will always be with you. Please know that.”

His face was like stone. Unchanged from the hate that was plastered on his face from the moment he turned to you.

“I wish I had never met you,” Asra gritted out before rushing out the shop door. 

Your love for Asra gnawed painfully at your stomach. It yearned to call out for him. Beg for his forgiveness. Forgive me, you wanted to say. Forgive me for the choices I want to make, and do not hate me for it. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there staring at the door. Though, by the time your senses had returned the night had turned into day by then, an orange hue coming into the shop through the stained glass window.

Still, you did not move as the sun's rays poured into your corner of the world. Compared to before, it seemed so small. Almost suffocatingly so. And, now the shop was quieter than you thought possible.

[fanficonly]

Wenclair x Reader -

What are you?- Part 10

Okay so yeah I have been gone... For like ... A long time... Sorry! I cannot give just one reason life has just been a lot to put it lightly. I am getting back into my writing and forgot how much I love it and fanfiction and just Wenclair in general. So I hope this chapter is good enough to move this story along and that some, if any, of you are still interested in it then I will be continuing so for now this is part 10 and more will be happening soon.

Enjoy reading 😋

"You were spying on me?!" You practically yell. Wednesday makes no attempt to explain herself but Enid fumbles over her words stepping towards you prompting you to step back instinctively

"I'm sorry. We're sorry. It was an accident!" She shouts back in defense, not aggressively but more panicked and worried as she dreaded your reaction.

"I- WHAT- This is too weird I-" you clutch the shirt in your hands, letting the fabric crease between your tensed knuckles as you start towards the door again.

"Y/N I have a proposition" Wednesday speaks abruptly, as if snapping out of thought, and the brazen tone she uses stops you from going any further. What could she possibly say that would help the situation right now? No wonder they are suspicious of you, making that phone call didn't make it any better and they had literally creeped on you from a closet! How the hell are you suppose to just let this go?

"A proposition? You spied on me while I was- you know that's not cool guys how did you even get there how did I not notice you?" Your voice trails off as you remember the last hour of time you spent in your room unaware of the prying eyes.

"We are incredibly skilled in being conspicuous" Wednesday says this with a hint of pride seeping out from the cracks of her blunt tone.

"Clearly" you sigh shaking your head a little in disbelief. I mean you didn't want to admit that it didn't completely freak you out because this is something that any normal person should have this reaction too... So you just continue with this course of action.

"We weren't trying to be conspicuous though, we didn't plan it!" Enid looks at Wednesday in matched disbelief. Honestly the thrill the Addams girl gets from stalking someone is a tad worrying but to brag about it like it was some master plan ...God she couldn't believe her girlfriend sometimes.

"Anyway as I was saying, I suggest we all move on from this" she puts it out there and for a split second you almost don't see the gravity of the situation and think the way she talks about it really minimises how you should feel.

Even Enid matches your expression giving Wednesday a puzzled look. How could you just forget about this? What could she possibly say that could stop the pure anger that was subtly building within you now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the monotones of Wednesday

"We have apologised for spying on you" she says "You have apologised for hurting Enid" again you look away in shame, did she have to keep bringing that up like damn.

Wednesday continued as you drag your mind back the conversation at hand "I suggest we call it even and in return you will forgive us and I will halt all plans to end your life unexpectedly because of your crimes against my girlfriend" Wednesday makes a good point. Maybe this way you could start fresh almost. Yes it was wrong of them but at the same time it was wrong of you to nearly kill Enid on your first day. Seems like a good trade off

"Wow. That... That actually makes sense" you blink in surprise not expecting such a godsend and you smile lightly, recounting everything in your head. Weirdly enough, if you could all just forget about both incidents then maybe you could start building a foundation for friendship or at the very least have no qualms with eachother and not spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulders. You think you can do it.

Wednesday side eyes Enid, and smirks slightly at the puppy dog eyes she was giving her, clearly the wolf enjoys a little bit of violence in her honour. You could tell Enid was trying to contain herself from jumping her girlfriend's bones at the thought of her gerring all protective.

"Of course it makes sense I am a completely competent person with a proven track record for peacemaking" Wednesday let her face rise in another light smirk and Enid giggles. Did she just make .. a joke? Or is she serious?

You look at her quizzically

"Ok perhaps not the peacekeeping but that is what my Enid is for" you slightly giggle to yourself when Wednesday pets the werewolfs head affectionately causing her to raise her shoulders in glee, letting her eyes flutter shut at the touch of her mate.

The way she says "My Enid" and delicately trails her eyes lovingly towards her makes your heart melt and you nod

"Okay fine ..." You hold one hand out while the other still grips your shirt intensely " Truce." Quickly shaking hands with Enid, settling your emotions through meditation and earning a nod from Wednesday indicating she would decline your physical contact, you return to a less nervous state.

"Now... Can Wednesday still ... You know" Enid points to the surgical instruments and you sigh. Honestly at this point you have no choice you cant just leave so instead you say

"Yes thank you" and stand there awaiting instructions again.

"Lay on the bed" Enid motions for you to move, her tone was not demanding more a soft suggestion and you do as you're told.

You smile and lay face down, accepting the pillow Wednesday silently hands you and beginning to get more comfortable.

"How is your pain tolerance?" Wednesday asks as you hear the clatter of tools behind you. The sound urges you to twist your head around, curious as to what she was doing.

"Ummm fairly used to it" you say turning away again.

"Good" Wednesday says and you swear you can just tell she has some kind of sinister smirk covering her features.

"No not good why? Do you get into a lot of fights?" Enid asks casually pulling up a chair to the end of the bed to keep you company as Wednesday prepares her tools.

"Yeah you could say that" you let out a nervous laugh propping your head up with your hands placed under your chin for stability. It really baffles you how easy it was to get back to ... Well yeah normal is the right word you guess.

Enid smiles comforting you and says "Brace yourself" looking behind you apologetically.

"Huh?" You furrow your brow in confusion until "Fuck!" The word leaves your lips harshly as you grip the edge of the mattress in an attempt to ignore the pain you just felt as Wednesday jabs what feels like a burning rod into your scarred body.

words. And as you trail your eyes towards Enid your heart breaks for a second time at her pained expression. She must have felt terrible for bringing it up. You can't stand to see her like this.

"It's okay" you practically vomit out the words harshly trying to stop the tears that threatened Enid's eyes from falling "I- well I grew up with other children around me but no they weren't my siblings". Your mind drifts off thinking about the programme. Other children just like you nothing but numbers in rooms, day after day experiments, fighting and abuse being the core memories of your childhood. .

"So like a group home?" Enid asks and you twitch a little as Wednesday continues her handy work

"God you ask a lot of questions" you opt to deflect that one because how do you describe the home ...house... Building...you were raised in.

The tragic tales of Godmother forcing you all to enhance and control your abilities by using eachother as test dummies and the horrid realisation that this is your life forever. Forever until nevermore that is. Thank god for Nevermore. .

"How else are we suppose to get to know you" Enid smiles. She really did just want to get to know you? There was something so wholesome about her demeanor but again that little voice in your head remained skeptical so you ask "Why do you want to get to know me?" You move to prop you chin up with your hands further, elbows resting on the pillow to see more of the werewolf girl.

"So we can be friends silly" Enid pats your head similar to how Wednesday had petted her earlier and pairs it with a little "Oop" noise which was by far the cutest sound ever to leave the lips of a human.

"You guys want to be my friend?" You ask and almost smack yourself silly for how desperate and weak you sounded.

"Enid does,I prefer the term ally" Wednesday speaks from behind you once again and you crane your neck to give her a half smile in response. She barely changes her face instead running anesthetic around your wound after shooting you a quick look.

"Sure but I am a very private person" you warn hoping this might urge them to lighten up on the police style questioning you were being subjected to.

"So was Wednesday when we first met, now I know all her dirty little secrets" Enid smiles widely again and giggles menacingly.

"Yeah but she's your girlfriend that's different" you raise your eyebrows and smirk.

"I prefer the term soulmate" Wednesday chimes in preparing the hot iron for the third hole on your back.

"Soooo why did you come to Nevermore?" She continues with her "Getting to know you" plan and you bury your face in the pillow as Wednesday cauterizes your third wound. You also note that that's not what she wants to ask you. She wants to ask what you are? What you did? What happened earlier? But here she is luring you into a false sense of security. Either that or she actually planned to stick to the deal of forgiving and forgetting the events. When you don't say anything Enid looks at Wednesday. .

It's still hard to focus with the light grazes of cold fingertips trailing down your back. As Enid stops questioning you your mind races as you become more aware of the Seers hands touching your body.

Luckily you have something else to focus your attention on and instead you're watching Enid again stare at Wednesday. It's as if they are reading each others minds or something but you calm down a little trying to pay attention to the beautiful blonde Infront of you instead of the stunning darker haired girl touching your back.

Stop it. Settle your emotions. Breathing exercises. You close your eyes. God these girls really bought out all these confusing feelings and it was not good for your... Gift .

Suddenly Wednesday presses into your cut and you immediately screech out a noise you have never heard yourself emit before,burying your face into the pillow as Enid reaches for you in concern

"My apologies" she murmurs as you bite into the pillow then your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers glide up your back slowly ... This doesn't feel like she's stitching you up and you panic, what is she doing, that feels .... That's ...

""What are you-" you begin to ask but without warning she presses her full palm onto the uncut part of your upper back once again. .

The rush of feelings electrify your body, every muscle, every bone in your body seizes up and your head whips back as you feel yourself uncontrollable roll off of the bed. A swirl of golden dust surrounds the two of you ... It's happening again but this time it hurts like really hurts ... What is happening?! .

And then you see it.

Flashes. Images, drilling into your head with a migraine inducing force.

A vision of sorts rushes through your brain, partially distorted and yet painfully clear.

It's you

It's Wednesday, Enid and You. All 3 of you cuddled on a bed together. You look happy ... You look like ... You're in... Then suddenly nothing.

Darkness.

Abyss.

...

Y/N!!!" The loud whisper rings in your ears "Y/N can you hear me?" The voice is drowned out, but your vision starts to return, the blurry figures of what you know to be Wednesday and Enid looming over you

"I told you not do it yet!" You hear Enid's voice, muffling but it's. almost like static is penetrating your ears.

"I don't know what happened Cara Mia this doesn't make sense, she should not have felt anything" the sultry tone of Wednesday voice is clearer as your ears regain their ability to hear coherently

"Y/N?" The voice buzzes again

"Urrrgh" you groan, your vision finally focussing and feeling returning your limbs, as you notice you are now situated on the cold wooden floor of their dorm room.

Ouch.

Continuing to squint and widen your eyes in an attempt to sort the feelings and thoughts that accompanied the impending realisation of what had just happened

And then...

You sit up suddenly connecting the dots, the head rush it was accompanied by, threatening to bring up yesterday's dinner. Wednesday is a Seer! And you stupidly let your guard down and piggybacked on a vision she obviously induced when she pressed onto your back.

Fuck.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Hermit (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: There is a blonde kinslayer in your bathroom. He appears to be your soulmate. It's worrying.

Warnings: It's Aemond. Sexual thoughts, mature language, canon character death. Yes! I killed Luke again.

A/N: Halloween celebration. Part 1 here.

There is something to be said about women with shrill voices. Perhaps, if Aegon were here, he would know the perfect jest to make. Not Aemond, though. Aemond only manages to groan and rest his forehead against the cool and humid surface underneath him.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman shrieks. Aemond is not sure exactly where he is, or how he got here, but it doesn't mean he will tolerate disrespect. He turns on his side and starts to get up. His head pounds more than it does on his bad days, when the migraines will start like icicles stabbing at his eye.

The woman is scantily clad, body wrapped in a towel that leaves little to the imagination. With how little modesty she displays, and those terrible manners, she can be nothing but a commoner.

Aemond tries hard to not stare. He is not like Aegon, panting like a dog after a pretty maid. All the thoughts of your beauty must be put aside, no matter how arousing the sight of your naked, soft body is to him.

“How dare you, peasant.” Aemond says, getting into a crouching position before standing. The floor feels slippery under his boots, which reminds him of Cole's teachings. A good swordsman must always be aware of his surroundings. Notice the ground under his feet, the enemies around and the allies near.

He is not sure what you are, enemy or ally. By the smell and looks of it, he seems to be in a bathing room. Your features are half drowned in darkness, the candlelight illuminating just the barest hint of scared eyes and a quirky mouth. You don't look like an enemy, but nor do you look familiar.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen.” You blink at him. Then, you blink some more. You offer your name in response, still a bit dazed. It's not one he recognizes, but at least, your shrieking has stopped.

“There was something in the bath.” You say, voice shaky. You do not seem to acknowledge his rank, which starts to irk him a bit. “I was drugged, and now I am hallucinating.”

Ah. Well, that's a bit more like it. If you say it figuratively, of course. If you are so impressed by him you think you are hallucinating, Aemond can forgive for it. He had heard tales of how much Targaryens impressed the common folk. It was not your fault that you were so impressed by royalty.

You step around him and grab your clothes. Aemond cannot help but admire the smooth expanse of your back, and how gracefully your shoulders flex and move when you pull a shirt over your head. It's an odd garment, probably made of linen, but in a loud color.

That thought makes him wonder if you are truly a peasant. Dye is expensive, and especially in the amounts needed to achieve such a garish color.

“That's not very proper.” He comments, as he watches the towel drop from your body. The faith of the Seven prohibits men and women watching each other in such a manner. But Aemond is unable to avert his eyes from the sight of you changing. The low light contributes to preserving your modesty and making him feel less guilty about looking at you in such a manner. His breath hitches at each new piece of you unveiled, from the soft curve of your breast, to the way your stomach moves when you bend.

“You sound so real.” You marvel, turning back to face him. You have managed to put on the shirt, which barely covers your thighs. Aemond wonders whose garment it is. A lover's, perhaps? Or a husband's? The thought angers him like no other, hands fisting by his side. The idea of another man having you does not sit right with him.

“I am real.” He is a tad offended. If this is someone's hallucination, it is his. Aemond cannot fathom a reason why he would be here, in such a strange bathing room and with an unknown woman. The idea of this being a dream has some merit.

One second he had been fuming in his room after making a particularly nasty toast to his nephews, the next he had appeared here. He must have fallen asleep over his desk. It would not be the first time.

“No, you are not. You are a figment of my imagination.” You reply, almost echoing his thoughts. Aemond fails at fully suppressing his amusement, the corners of his lips barely twitching upwards.

“Am I? I would think, if life was no more than a fantasy, it would not be one of someone as unimportant as you.” The concept is one he is familiar with. His long studies of philosophy have made him realize there is much he doesn't know about the world. The topic of differentiating reality from fantasy and the lack of a free will was one he was well acquainted with.

After the loss of his eye, Aemond had found little solace in the Faith, despite fulfilling his duties as a devout Prince. He often wondered if fate existed, and if that moment had been planted by the Gods to allow him to serve a purpose he had not yet discovered. There could be free will, everyone writing their destinies. Perhaps, nothing existed at all.

He didn't like pondering on that too much, though. It would make existence meaningless.

“Rude.” You mutter, hands going to your hips and making the horrible shirt you are wearing tense delightfully around your figure. “So the figment of my imagination has read Calderón de la Barca.”

Aemond blushes slightly. He has not read Calderón de la Barca. He prides himself on being well-read, but this particular author he had never heard of. It's interesting, though. If you know of an author Aemond doesn't know, it means that not only do you know how to read but that you are also highly educated.

Why? He wonders. What is so special about you, and your little peasant ways, to merit being more educated than a Prince?

“I do not know what Calderón de la Barca is, peasant.” He explains, feeling a tad embarrassed over the whole affair. Studying is his thing, after all. Aemond takes pride in excelling at all sorts of princely traits, and being well-read is one of the most important of them all. “But I am an avid reader.”

“My name is not peasant.” You give him an angry little huff, and step outside the bathing room. Aemond follows you. He figures, if he is in a strange place, it might be best to stick near. This feels too real to be a dream.

“I never said it was.” It comes out stunned. He can't help it, too busy staring at his surroundings. Now out of the bathing room, Aemond realizes this place must be your chambers. There is a love seat, some padded chairs, and even a small dining area. Odd appliances clutter the entire place, like a strange gray box that almost looks like an upright coffin and a black and sleek rectangle over a table. He is either dreaming, or in a foreign place.

He sticks very closely to you. You walk towards the door, grabbing some strange keys from a tray. They look much smaller and shiny than what Aemond is used to.

“Should I drive?” You muse aloud. The question is clearly not meant for him, since he has no clue what you mean. “No, best not. I need help. I doubt that's safe.” You put the keys down and yet again, open another door.

Aemond is starting to marvel at the sheer amount of space your chambers have. This is rather uncommon for a peasant. That, combined with your education, must mean you are something more. A courtesan, perhaps? One of the expensive ones, like in the Free Cities. Not something so crass as the dancer his Uncle had kept, though.

You step outside, Aemond still following. At that, you scowl.

“Of course he follows, he is a hallucination.” You mutter, and Aemond cannot help but laugh a little. It seems you have yet to let go of that particular theory. The two of you step into a hallway of some sort, where numbered doors stand. You knock on one of them, still in your flimsy clothing. Now that he realizes you are about to see someone else, he has the strange impulse of covering you up.

“Here.” Aemond says, taking off his outer layer and wrapping it around your shoulders. “You are too undressed.”

Another woman, much older and dressed in even stranger clothing, opens the door.

“Oh, dear. Have you locked yourself out again?” She says, before you even get a chance to speak. She ducks back inside her chambers and appears again with a key and a handful of brightly colored papers.

“No, I… I think…” You start saying, but the woman ignores you and turns towards him. She clearly senses his importance or recognizes him.

“Here.” The woman says, thrusting the bright papers that seem to have something tiny inside, in Aemond's hands. Some sort of tribute? Aemond has seen how the commoners shower Helaena and his mother in flowers when they get the chance to see them. “These were meant for the children, earlier, but your costume is very nice. You are dressed as the guy from that series, aren't you? My granddaughter is all over him.”

Aemond gapes. He is not sure if he has ever heard a sentence as nonsensical as that, and he speaks with Helaena daily.

“You can see him?” You ask, sounding alarmed. You step backwards, nearly colliding with him. Aemond takes the chance to grab you by the waist. He is starting to get the feeling something is very wrong. Costume? Series? What in the Seven Hells is going on?

One thing is clear. He is not letting you leave him alone now.

“Of course I can.” The older woman says, turning towards you with a worried frown. “Are you alright?”

Your face crumbles. Aemond squeezes your waist. He hopes you get the unspoken signal.

“She is.” Aemond quickly says. He has never been good at lying, dammit. “She is going as that… “

“Oh, the one in the movie.” The woman says. Aemond is not sure about what a movie is, but it seems to make sense to her, even if she is embarrassed by it. Perhaps, she doesn't know what movie he is referring to, and frankly, neither does he, but does not want to embarrass you.

Aemond lets the woman open your chambers' door with her key, keeping you in place with a tight grip. You squeak a bit, but otherwise remain quiet, too shocked by your realization. It helps that his arm on your waist squeezes harder each time you are about to spout some more nonsense.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask him, when he gently leads you back inside. You are shivering a bit, either from the shock or the cold. Aemond looks at you, barelegged and barefooted, and frowns.

“I understand your occupation must have ridden you of your modesty, but it does not make you immune from the cold.” He says, in a disapproving tone.

“My occupation?” You echo. Your eyes narrow. Aemond coughs, awkwardly.

“You know.” Suddenly, the artwork displayed on your walls is very intriguing. It's a very well achieved rendition of the countryside. He wonders who painted it. They must be talented.

“I do not know.” Your voice is firm. Aemond wishes you didn't make him say it. “This is bizarre enough as it is. Tell me.”

“That's not a way of speaking to a Prince.” He barks because he might find you fascinating, but you are getting ahead of yourself. Aemond is not about to tolerate being disrespected, not even from a pretty face. “A courtesan such as yourself should know better.”

You make a wheezing sound, as if you are being strangled. It's rather attractive.

“I am no courtesan!”

“To me, you look like one. These chambers are filled with rare artifacts and instruments.” Aemond walks towards the strange love seat you own and sits on it. The seat is much more plush than what he is used to, but to his disappointment, not made of real leather.

“So?” You arch an eyebrow and go sit in one of your chairs. His cloak parts slightly as you draw your knees up, allowing him to see the bare skin your shirt does little to conceal.

You level him with a strange look. Your head is tilted to the side, as if curious, but your eyes seem wary yet.

“You are pretty and lack modesty.” Aemond watches right back. It's evident many powerful men would offer just anything to have a night with you. Ever since that incident when he was thirteen, he has avoided whores. Courtesans, though, are something he could be interested in. Taught in the arts of conversation, they served as companions as much as bed warmers. It would not be strange if he were to become your patron. “And are oddly cultured.”

“Because this is not Westeros.” You yawn. Your eyes are exhausted. Aemond is not sure of the hour, but he finds commendable the fact that your chambers are so well lit, without a fireplace in sight. The thought distracts him from the fact that you are not a courtesan, and he will be unable to have you as he had hoped for.

“I had supposed I was far from home. But that far?” He asks you.

“That far.” You smile at him. It does not reach your eyes, expression troubled. “So we both abandoned the theory of this being a dream.”

Aemond hums, thoughtfully. Then, another thought occurs to him.

“There were many candles in your bathing room, and it smelled like herbs. Are you a witch?” A witch could also be hired. Useful, too.

“No. But I knew one.” Your smile turns a little strained. Aemond frowns. No witch, no courtesan, then what? Just peasant? You look too unique to be part of the common folk. Not to say, too healthy and clean.

A witch. You had hired a witch, and a good one, considering Aemond was here. That was not commoner's behavior. They were too fearful of the Faith of the Seven to do so. Besides, it was expensive.

“And this witch of yours, she brought me here? For what purpose?”

“She is not my witch.” You answer, before hesitating. Your lips move, but it takes a while before you make any sort of sound. “And the ritual, it was not to bring you. It went wrong.”

“Wrong?” He tries prompting you, but you only scowl at him. “Answer me. Answer your Prince.”

“You are not my Prince.” You say, resentfully. Aemond had not thought he would like his women a little defiant, but he is quickly figuring that a little fire can be nice. He wonders if you are that assertive in bed, too, and cannot help but smirk. That must be why his uncle loves mouthiness. “It was supposed to bring love into my life.”

“That's interesting.” That makes Aemond peer up. He looks you over, with new interest. While a bit too immodest for his liking, you are pretty and educated. You would make a good wife, once he taught you proper behavior. Your lack of good breeding, though, that was an issue. “You are bright. And gorgeous, too.”

“Thank you?” You ask him. Aemond beckons you over with a gesture, curious to see if you obey.

You get up from your seat and walk towards him. You stand in front of him, hands twitching and rumpling the fabric of his cloak. Nervous, Aemond thinks, and smiles a little. You are a twitchy thing. It makes him feel better about his nerves when faced with such a pretty woman.

“Do you think, perhaps, your witch mended the bridge between us?” Boldly, his hand goes to your waist once again. You do not fight his grip. Instead, you lean into it. Aemond brushes his thumb softly near your ribs, making you shiver.

He understands now why Aegon likes women so much. Your body is soft, and you go pliant in the most delicious way. You don't feel threatening, either, like the whores at that godawful brothel. Aemond is clearly the one in control, and he delights in it.

“Bridge?” You say, swaying a little. It might be the exhaustion he detected in you earlier, or you might be made weak by his touch. Aemond finds it interesting regardless.

“The distance. If you are meant for me…” He doesn't finish the thought, but he caresses your waist again, this time moving possessively to your hip. You are so soft, wearing his cloak and smelling of him. So vulnerable and small, despite how smart you are. How could you not be meant for him?

“Dubious.” You frown, and Aemond does not like that answer, so he jerks you slightly forward. You stumble into him, between his spread legs. “Hey!”

Aemond ignores your protest, pulling you in until he has you nearly on his lap. You struggle, but quickly fold, letting him do as he pleases. He wonders if you would let him pull you until you are sitting on his thigh, but does not dare try.

“This is not normal, in my world.” It's far-fetched, even in a world with dragons. Aemond knows magic exists, but he has never seen such a powerful display. A spell so powerful to bring him to another world, just using herbs and candles? It sounds unbelievable. He has always been a rational man, a calculating one. But there is something in his gut telling him that you speak truth.

“I realize.” You place a hand on his shoulder, steadying yourself. This time, he does pull you to sit on his lap. If Aemond were not paying so much attention to your face, he would miss it. This close, though, he notices how your eyes flutter closed in delight at the touch. It only lasts a brief moment, but Aemond can tell how much you like it.

He wonders if you are like him. Lonely and unused to touching another for the sheer pleasure of it all. He feels strange. Never before has Aemond felt such a strong urge to touch a woman, much less one he barely knows. Yet, there is something about you that makes him feel like throwing rationality out of the window.

The smell of your hair is intoxicating. He can't help himself, he has to take a deep breath of it. Gods, you smell good enough to eat.

“Do you think we were destined to meet?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Aemond knows he has ruined it. Your body tenses up, and you nearly fall off his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, but you jerk away.

“I have to show you something.” You say, getting up. Whatever it is, it makes you uncomfortable. It's all over the tense line of your shoulders, the furrow of your eyebrows.

You take a small artifact from one of your many tables. It's a slim rectangle that lights up when you touch it. Your thumbs press it at an alarming speed. Noise starts pouring out of it, voices and music.

“… AT JUST 9 DOLLARS AND 99 CENTS…”

Aemond scrambles back on your love seat, scared by the sudden onslaught on his senses. You do not seem worried, though, merely making an annoyed face.

“Here.” You say, as you do something with your artifact and turn it to face him. It displays a storm. Aemond pays close attention to it, fascinated by the fact you seem to own a pocket sized window.

Then, he sees something he recognizes. It's Vhagar's body, she is flying somewhere. His eyes leave the artifact to meet yours in disbelief. You purse your lips and gesture for him to keep looking. Your face is oddly anxious, and your hands keep squeezing his cloak.

Aemond focus back on the device. He sees himself, chasing his nephew. He sees Vhagar opening her mouth and… Aemond throws your artifact against the wall, getting up in a hurry. He is filled with rage, stalking towards you.

You move back, as if sensing the danger in the room. Aemond grasps you by the arm, his grip so punishing your skin goes white under it.

“What sorcery is this?” He snarls, towering over you. You look at him, all big innocent eyes, and it only angers him more. “Huh? What is this, you wench?” Aemond throws you to the love seat, making you fall into it with a yelp.

“It's… I…” You hesitate.

“Answer my question!” He barks at you, making you flinch. You hug your knees to your chest, making yourself smaller. He regrets handling you so roughly immediately, and tries to smooth you over, running his hands over your arms. You slap his hands away.

“Your future.” You finally speak, face dropping into a sad frown. Your voice is barely a whisper. “It's your future.”

Upon hearing it, Aemond feels like he is losing his mind. He has always known his anger is destructive, but had never truly grasped the bounds of it. His mouth hangs open.

Turning into a kinslayer is turning into the most accursed man in Westeros. Killing his own blood is a crime that not even the most dishonorable common criminal would dare to attempt. It is something only the truly wretched are capable of.

For someone so smart, Aemond can surely be foolish. How could he let himself be blinded by his anger so? His hate for Lucerys might be strong, but he can't believe he had lost control of Vhagar in such a manner.

By the Seven. What would it mean, for his family, if he did this? War, surely. His mother would never hand him over to the justice Rhaenyra would surely demand, and that refusal would cost them their lives. That, in turn, would cause a war.

A war. Hm. Was it really that wrong, though? There would be a war anyway, once his father passed. There was no way that Rhaenyra was going to take the throne without a fight. Aegon was a much better option to rule the Seven Kingdoms, if only by the fact he was a man.

Women were not made to rule. Just look at you. No matter how smart and educated, you had been reduced to a frightened, quivering little thing after getting screamed at. What prevented from the same being done to Rhaenyra? His uncle had an even worse temper than him, he probably decimated his wife daily. It would be him who truly ruled. And no matter how skilled a swordsman, Daemon was not fit to be King.

“I killed him?” Aemond asks you, eerily calm. His tone is even. It feels as if the words are coming from someone's else mouth.

You shrink more into your seat.

“You did.” You say, quiet as a mouse.

Aemond could not help but feel the smallest satisfaction over it. Lucerys had it coming. He had ruined Aemond's life, after all. And not only had he taken his eye, but he was also a bastard. Bastards were put to the sword, everyone knew that. Aemond had just accelerated the inevitable.

It had been a matter of time. Truly. His lips curl into a smirk.

“Good.” He answers, with a viciousness that surprises even him. “Good.”

“I do not think…” You start saying, in a brave attempt for such an easily frightened little thing. Aemond brushes your hair back from your face. Your next words die in your throat.

You tremble. Poor thing that you were, all tangled up in morality. You surely read too much philosophy books, it got you all confused. It didn't matter. All theories crumbled after their first brush with reality. You would learn.

“You will learn.” Aemond sits down next to you, pulling you for a hug. “You are mine, after all.”

You struggle. He squeezes you slightly harder, and you go limp.

“You are my woman now.” Aemond explains, patiently. He is willing to teach you when the two of you go back to Red Keep. But not before he gets as much useful information as he can extract out of your pretty little head. “And you need to be good to me.”

He kisses your temple. You look up at him, eyes all shy. Aemond leans down and kisses you. You are terribly pale, lips barely moving against his.

“You are never letting me go.” You say, as if in a daze. Aemond smirks. It is a show of your intellect, that you realize all on your own that you have doomed yourself.

“Of course not, wife. You are all I need.”

[mystar-girl57]

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐦

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Pairing: widowed!jake sully x fem reader

Warnings: reader has Thalassophobia (phobia of oceans/deep and large bodies of water), violence, quaritch, character death

Comments: God I cannot believe that we are almost at the end this was so hard for me to write

A scream ripped from your throat as you were yanked back on board and thrown to a near by wall. You fell to the ground in a pile. You looked around your eyes were up focaused and echoey footsteps ringed in your ears. You could just barely make out the black boots that sauntered to you before a hand reached down and picked you up by your neck.

It was Quaritch.

“Looks like Sully got himself a new lady now. I always figured it was the one from before, Neytiri, is that what they called her?” You hissed and thrashed in his grasp making Quaritch grin. “Aw, was she important to you sweet heart?” He taunted, tightening his grip on your throat. “She died and up and left you with her litter I take it.”

You growled making Quaritch laugh. “I saw how you got Z-Dog killed, had her pined down and crushed by that whale thing. But now?” He shook you, “You as stuck as a dumb dolly.” He spoke to you in broken Na’vi switching back and forth to English and while you did not understand all that he said, you knew his words were meant to insult you.

Quaritch dragged you back to an area near the opening of the ship where Kiri stood captive and Tuk too. “Girls!” You cried out, then struggled more in his grasp. It was one thing for him to insult the dead and make you feel small, it was another when he hurt your girls. “Let them go!” You hissed as he set you down and handcuffed your hands behind your back. You wriggled trying to get out of his hold but you knew it was no use. Quaritch gripped your bicep dragging you closer to the front and away from Kiri and Tuk. The girls screamed out for you but there was nothing you could do.

When you got to the edge of the ship’s mouth it was well into the water as it sank. The tiny waves lapped at your toes and you instinctively moved back. Quaritch chuckled at your actions. “So they weren’t kidding when they said there was a hydrophobic na’vi among you savages. With how in touch with nature you are I thought you would’ve called the waves to save you at this point.” He sneered.

But his taunts fell on deaf ears when you looked out across the water at a flat rock peeking up over the water. Jake was there, Lo’ak and Tsireya too, but what concerned you the most was the body laying there. You watched Spider pulling Jake away from the body and into the water coming toward you.

“Here comes Papa,” Quaritch smirked, tearing your choker mic off your neck and holding it close to his lips. “Come on Jake. You’ve already lost one wife and now your boy along with it.” He yanked your queue pulling an involuntary scream from your lips before proceeding to kick you in the back of your leg forcing you to your knees. “You wanna lose another one.” As he said he realized what he was doing, he was luring Jake in so he could kill him.

“Do not bother.” You spat in broken English , your voice strained from your screams. “He does not care about me. I am not his wife, you are wasting your time.” Quarich simply pulled your queue back harder in response, his eyes staying on Jake waiting for him to come up out of the water.

You sat there on your knees beside the recom na’vi for what felt like an eternity. Blood caked your body from the scratches littering your body and from the splatters of your victims. Your breathing was labored and your hope was slipping. For the first time in years you closed your eyes and muttered a small prayer to your great mother. You did not ask her to forgive you of your sins, you were past that point. You asked her to protect your children, protect Jake, and if you were to die to let it be a noble death.

Soon little splashes echoed behind you causing Quaritch to turn around quickly, almost breaking your neck as he did since he was still holding your head back by your bread. You were too tired at this point to even scream. “Where are ya’ Jake?” He called, his voice ricocheting off the walls of the seemingly empty space. “Don’t cha’ know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

You knew Jake was here, you could feel his angry gaze looking down on you both from above. For once you felt a sense of relief washing over you at his presence. As if on cue there was an echo of “GET DOWN!” followed by an explosion. The sound of the blast tore through your ear drums making you pull back. Fire errupoted around you, the grays and blues that surrounded you morphing into an angry red.

“Let her go Quaritch!” Jake’s voice barked making you and the Colonel look up to see Jake standing there. His ears were back and his tail lashing violently showing his anger. Cuts littered his body, the blood on him fresh. You knew it wasn’t his. “Ah! About time you showed up, figured with one wife dead in the ground you’d be quicker to come after this one.” Quaritch sneered making you hiss. With Jake here you found a new energy in you, more determination to escape. “This is between you and me. She has nothing to do with this.” Jake snarled.

Quaritch shook his head with a laugh, “You think she’s the only one on here? Got two of your brats back there too. Don’t think you wanna lose another kid today.” You stopped thrashing hearing his words and slowly tilted your head up to him. What did he just say? Quaritch noticed your look, a sick grin forming on his face. “Oh did you not hear Mama bear?” He grapped your jaw and forced you to look back at the rock where the body laid limp. “There lays your eldest. Team or whatever the fuck you savages called him.”

You turned your head the best you could Jake, your eyes begging for him to refute Quritch’s words but when Jake looked away a cry tore from your throat. Neteyam, your Neteyam was dead. You screamed your son’s name in pure agony that even Ewya might have felt a smidge of guilt. Seeing your display of pain made Quaritch laugh as he let go of you and shoved you harshly to the wet floor. He stepped over you, causually making his way to Jake.

“You lost soldier. It’s time to come in.” Quaritch reached behind his body to his back pocket and pulled out the reflective orange snap cuff. “Cuff yourself.” He ordered with a growl, any sign of mockery had left his voice. The band fell to Jake’s feet with a soft clatter but the motion was so powerful. He looked between you on the floor and Quartich standing in front of him, what was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to fight and risk it all, your life and his surviving kids' lives, the lives of the Metkayinan clan members that let them live in the village though they were outsiders. Or did he give in, admit defeat and let the damage fall on him.

“Now Corporal!” Quaritch hissed, pulling his knife out and aiming it at you. With one easy throw he could catch you in the side and you would bleed out like Neteyam in a matter of moments. “You son of a bitch!” Jake tried to hiss but it came out as a groan of distress as he picked up the cuff and snapped it to one side of his wrist. Quaritch grinned at the sight, letting his guard down and turning his back to you fully. He had finally won, he thought. After 15 long years he had finally won, it only took him going to hell and back but he won.

Then, it became deathly quiet and it became aparent to Quaritch and Jake that your wails could no longer be heard in the ship. Jake’s eyes widened in fear as he immediately assumed the worse. But when Quaritch turned around to look at you, both he and Jake were in shock to find that you weren’t there.

“Fuck!” Quaritch cussed, his moment of glory gone. It didn’t matter if Jake was in cuffs if you were still out there waiting to kill Quaritch. The military na’vi whorled around looking all around him from any sign of you and for the first time since he watched the video of his death back in the forest of Pandora, he felt scared.

He was back in the same setting all those years ago. Jake being in trouble and his wife hiding somewhere in the trees ready to fight for him. Panic bloomed in Quaritch’s chest but he did his best to ignore it. No, this time would be different, he promised himself. You weren’t in the forest, you were on a ship, a human ship, he had the upper hand. You did not know human technology, you hated it, you could not use it to your advantage, he tried to convince himself.

Jake stood behind him, his hands cuffed and his ears perked. He could hear you looking around on the catwalk just above him. There was a soft rattle and he knew you were searching for something followed by a ‘click.’ ‘There is no way’ he thought, realizing what you were doing. You despised Jake’s gun despite him dressing it to blend in with the rest of the Na’vi’s weapons, there was no way you were getting one of your own that went against all your morals. Then again, Jake came to think, if he had learned one thing about the na’vi since coming to Pandora, that the women were much more dangerous than the men, especially when provoked with the welfare of their young. He listened out for you quietly padding along the catwalk above him and he was thankful Quaritch hadn’t been taught to look out for such minuscule things in his surroundings. Jake just hoped you didn’t pick the biggest gun there was.

“Alright Sully where the fuck is she!” Quaritch demanded, rounding on the man. Jake snapped back to his senses and he took a moment to look Quaritch over. His breaking was quick and shallow, sweat began to trickle down his brow, his yellow eyes were blown wide. He was scared. Jake didn’t respond right away because out of the corner of his eye right behind Quaritch he could see three figures swimming twoards the boat. His kids. “Shit.” Jake cussed out loud by mistake and he quickly snapped his gaze away not wanting Quaritch to see them. Quaritch let out a roar of frustration and grabbed his knife holding it to Jake’s throat. “Tell me where she is!”

A gun shot rang out in response to his yell and both men ducked. They slowly turned to see the fresh bullet hole in the wall on the other side of them and when Quaritch looked to see where the shot had come from he saw you duck down dropping the gun. “Bingo.” He grinned, the adrenaline coursing through him masking his fear.

Quaritch let go of Jake and took off after you. One he was away the water splashed around the mouth of the ship as it sunk lower into the sea. Lo’ak and Tuk struggled to get up but when they did they instantly ran over to their father. Lo’ak pulled his hunting knife out and cut his father’s restraints. “I told Tuk to stay but she wouldn’t listen and we don’t know where Kiri is!” Lo’ak said quickly but Jake shook his head. “Son its fine, right now i need to go get your mother and you two get off the ship!” He began to ran down the hall but Tuk protested grabbing his hand. “I want to help mom!” Jake bit back his curses and tried to pry Tuk off him as calmly as possible. “This isn’t up for discussion Tuktirey. Go.” This time, he didn’t wait to listen to his daughter and continued down the dark hall.

It got darker as he went and groans echoed throughout the ship. It was going to go under soon, Jake figured, which meant he needed to at least get you out. The sound of shouts and metaling ringing started to get loud as he neared the end of the hall and he saw your body go across the room before you went back to the other side with your knife out. He quickened his pace to a run and when he got to the room, Quaritch was holding his arm, blood spewing from an open wound while you stood a few feet away hissing, too distracted by your anger to notice the water pooling around your ankles

Jake entered and sent a punch to Quaritch’s jaw knocking, making him fall into the water with a splash. “It’s over Quaritch!” Jake seethed, looking down at the man. “Your ship is sinking and your crew has abandoned you, you’ve lost!” Quaritch said nothing and Jake turned away with a huff coming over to you.

You were still dazed coming off your angry high. You didn’t even realize Jake was with you until he gingerly touched your face and you flinched. “Easy, easy baby.” He soothed, moving his fingers so his palm cupped your face. “It’s just me.” He whispered and you choked out a sob leaning into his hand while he pulled you closer to his body with his free hand.

The ship let out another groan and everything began to turn. You let out a yelp as your feet slipped out from underneath you and you were pulled by the water into a whirlpool formed by the water being sucked in through an open doorway.

“Shit!” Jake gasped lunching to grab you but a hand wrapped around his ankle making him fall onto his chest and you slipped out of his grip, carried downstream. “Gotcha!” Quaritch cried out in triumph and Jake let out a snarl. For once he decided to not think, to let his heart decide instead of his brain. He did what would benefit himself over everyone else and right now that was getting you. Using the heel of his foot Jake slammed down onto Quaritch’s nose making the Colonel reel back in pain, letting go of his ankle. Once he was free Jake let the current take him following you deeper into the ship and the room that he left Quaritch in collapsed.

You were panicking as the water carried you, not giving you even a second to try to grab onto something to stop its pull. It was just like the river when you were eight, carrying you away as punishment for your actions. You should have never snuck out of camp when you were eight and you should never have thought you could protect your family now.

The sound of your heart's quick unsteady beats filled your ears and you started to pant. There was no way you were getting out of this you thought. You had been lucky the past two times. Payakan saving you from the soldiers, Jake coming after you with Quaritch. But now, you were alone.

The dim lights flickered off as the ship fully capased and its inner electrical workings were deemed useless against the water.

Suddenly the current sped up and it sent you down into a dark hole. You fell for a few seconds before splashing down into an infinite darkness. There was no light in here, even the water did not dare to move. You felt suffocated in small space as your freckles barely glimmered in here, their attempts to shed any light was futile.

Just as you were going to give into hopelessness the waterfall surged above you and a loud yell sounded only to be cut short as the owner of the scream splashed down beside you. “Jesus Christ!” The figure spat standing up in the water, looking up from where they just fell, not yet noticing you. The moment you heard its voice, his voice you let out a cry of joy. “Jake!” You wrapped your arms around him feeling released to no longer be alone in the rising water. “Baby?!” Jake gasped feeling your arms around his abdomen and he did not hesitate to hug you back, picking you up slightly. His freckles showed bright and you were able to see his eyes. Tears welled in your eyes and you held back a sob. “The kids,” you whispered, “They, they,” Jake quieted you with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry, don’t worry they are going to be fine.” He hid his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, feeling your skin, holding onto you for dear life. Jake whispered your name like a prayer as if he were to stop he’d forget it entirely. It was in here, stuck in this ship at the bottom of the ocean with the water getting ready to swallow you hole that he realized: he loved you.

He loved you so much.

“Look at me,” Jake whispered gently, pulling you away from him and cupping your face so your eyes met his. “We are going to get out of this.” He promised. “We are going to get out of here and go back to our kids.”

Jake kept talking, trying to distract you from the water slowly rising, it was at your forearms now and with how much shorter you were to him you would be under by the time it was to his shoulders.

But you already knew the water was getting close to your mouth and you knew there was no way out of this. You felt oddly calm, there was no fear in you, you were not flailing, clawing your way up trying to get out of the water, you accepted defeat. You had already lost your friend, a sister, your home and now you had lost your son. If it was your time you would accept it. There was no more running from Ewya you decided, you were going to face her head on this time, turn around and throw your curses to the wind knowing each word would ping off her face like a speck of dust. It was no more fighting this. Each time you made her angry, each time the thunder would rumble when you and Jake would argue, each time you ignored her calls and beckons, they all lead to this moment. She had enough of you and your antics and now it was time to suffer the consequences and you would rather do it alone, not pull Jake into it.

You did not hate him like you had claimed that night of the party. You loved him, you loved him with all your soul, body and being. You had killed for him, lied for him, cursed at Ewya for him.

A weak chuckle escaped your throat. “You know all this time even from the moment I met you I have tried to hate you.” Your words make Jake look down at you, your freckles now illuminating the water as you spoke, they seemed to grow brighter. “Neytiri would not stop grinning telling me about you completing your Iknimaya. She changed so much when you arrived and for the better. No longer was she worried about being mated to Tsu’tey and betraying Sylwanin; she was smiling and laughing like how we used to when we were young. It was the first time I had seen her be so happy since that day at the school. She came to me telling me about wanting to mate with you and when she was expecting Neteyam I was the first one she told. “There were so many firsts that she told me. Neytiri was not just a friend, she was my sister. And that day,” You sighed tearfully, the water reaching your shoulders and your loose hair growing yet. “that day that you came back to camp with her in your arms I vowed to hate you forever. I blamed you not the sky people, and when Ewya ordered us to be mated my hatred only grew and it blinded me, controlled me.” You shook your head wiping a stray tear that slid down your cheek before looking up at Jake who had tears falling himself. “I see you.” You whispered. “And I am sorry.”

The water was up to your chin and it was getting hard for you to stay up. Jake wrapped his arms around you and held you up higher, your foreheads together. “I see you.” He whispered back. “And I’m sorry too. I am so sorry for all that I have done over the years to you, to the kids. I was mad as well and I had no right to take it out on you.”

“I guess we both fucked up pretty good then?” You suggested and Jake couldn’t help but laugh hearing your broken English, and a human curse at that. “I guess we did.” He nodded, putting his nose to yours. You realized then why you weren’t scared of the water as you had been before; it was Jake. You felt safe in his embrace, you knew he was going to do his best to keep you up and not let you drown. “If we get out of here,” Jake began but you corrected him “When.” “Right, when we get out of here, let’s go out for the night, start over? What do you say?” You looked down at him, your freckles glowing bright and you genuinely smiled at him. You leaned down close, your lips brushing. “That sounds like a dream.”

Just before you could close the space there was a burst of color coming from underneath you as the whole space lit up. Glowing fish pooled around your legs swooping around you, tickling your legs. Then, Kiri popped in through a gap in the wall near the floor in front of you. There was a creature connected to her back that flowed with the water giving the illusion that she had wings. A grin broke out on her face at the sight of you and you could not help but laugh, tears rushing down your face at the sight of your daughter. “Kiri!” Letting go of Jake you hugged your daughter tightly as she stood up and she hugged you too. “Mom! Dad!” Jake came over and embraced the two of you. “Oh it's so good to see you are alright.” She sighed with relief as you pulled away. “I know a way out but it's a long swim.” Your heart started to fall at her words as fear filled you once more but her smile was unwavering. “But Mom, I have some things to help you.”

Kiri reached behind her, detaching her queue from the creature and gently grabbed yours connecting it. A rush of air went through you and it felt as though Ewya had blessed you with a set of new lungs. “This will help you breathe in the water,” Kiri explained, putting the animal on your back and it wrapped its malleable arms around you as if giving you a hug. “And this little guy would not take no for an answer when I said he could not come.”

You looked at her confused but then an Ilu’s head popped up out of the water. “Lepay!” You cried and your ilu let out clicks of joy as you hugged his neck. The boat began to shake and the four of you looked up, that was your cue to leave. “Follow the fish Mom,” Kiri called as you got onto Lepay’s back, “Dad and I are right behind you!”

You did not need to form tsaheylu for Lepay to understand where you needed to go and what was going on. He understood that you were injured and scared as you flowed through the water. He was quick but smooth, doing his best to not throw you off, sending reassuring clicks to you every so often. The feeling of the creature on your back gently squeezing you also helped calm your nerves as you went through the submerged ship.

Soon you were free from the boat and Lepay tilted upward, breaking the water as your head came up. Fresh air filled your lungs and it felt your freedom had returned. You burst out in tears, laughing and crying as you hugged Lepay thanking him. The ilu happily squeaked in response and you reached behind you gently taking your queue away from the creature on your back. “And thank you,” you whispered to it, before setting it into the water and watching it swim away.

Not far behind you the water broke with two splashes and Jake and Kiri popped up. Jake gasped for air as you guided Lepay over to him, tsaheylu now connected between the two of you. Reaching down you grabbed Jake’s bicep helping him up onto the Ilu and the man coughed lazily putting his arms around you breathing you in.

You two were alive, you were safe and you were free. “We did it,” he whispered into your hair and you nodded, gripping his hand and looking up at the rising sun “We did indeed.”

The funeral music sounded behind you setting the post war melancholy atmosphere for the evening. You hated this moment. Out of the entire battle, almost getting killed, watching your children be beaten and bruised, this moment you hated the most.

Neteyam looked peaceful in the raft, if you did not know any better he looked like he was sleeping. You were taken back to all those years ago at Neytiri’s burial ritual but unlike hers you were the one laying the body down alongside Jake. Both of you were decorated in white funeral paint, the pigment defining all of your cuts and blemishes that you had not bothered to attend to from the battle that occurred yesterday.

The clan stood along the beach, their touches lit and their choirs softly singing. Lo’ak held onto Tuk while Spider and Kiri sat together on an Ilu. You stopped Lepay, who carried Neteyam when you got over the glowing grove. It was a deep dive, deeper than you had ever done. Jake gently slipped his son off the raft, the ocean flowers slipping into the water with him. Jake looked at you as you swam over. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He whispered but you cut him off with a tsk. “He is my son Jake. For him, any of them I would fight Ewya herself.”

You both took a deep breath before going under and taking Neteyam’s body down with you. You tried to not focus on the water around you, instead you kept your eyes on the glowing tendrils that slowly reached their way up to you as you got closer. They wrapped around Neteyam’s ankle and wrist and gently took him from your grasp. You watched as they pulled him down and covered him up glowing brightly. By the time that he had been completely consumed by the earth your lungs started to burn and Jake pulled on you, saying that it was time to go.

You casted one last look at the reef before kicking up towards the surface. Neteyam would always be there with you no matter where you went, just as Neytiri has even with you being away from the forest. You knew this but it did not make it any easier. No parent should outlive their child, they were there to welcome them in birth, not bid them goodbye in death. But your people did not believe in death, this was simply moving on, going to better things.

You would see him one day, Neytiri too. But not for a long while. You had found a reason to live again, it took a slap in the face for you to open your eyes but they were open now. Open wide and gleaming, ready to see what Ewya was going to throw at you next.

© 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫-𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝟓𝟕 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬

🏷: @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @newjeansbonnie @cleverzonkwombatsludge @atxara @jakesully-sbabygirl @ducks118 @ssc7514 @squidalapobre @anxietydrogz @myheartfollower @misscaller06 @itzyahgirllkita1 @saltedcoffeescotch @eskamybeloved @agustdeeyaa @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @julijal @supercoolusernamesblog @iamparou @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @idcalol @eternallyvenus @zoetrope1997 @itssomeonereading @farleyis @k0la22 @bigdikzaddy

[shadowqueenjude]

Eris makes a deal with Keir

for @the-darkestminds

Eris interlaced his hands before him, smiling insouciantly at Keir Darkbringer. Despite technically being Rhysand’s subordinate, Keir had little to no fear of the man, and shockingly, Rhysand had let him stay in power for centuries despite being a despot. Having just learned of his position of power and the second game afoot with Rhysand and the Night Court, Eris set out to figure out why. It seemed that however much Rhysand and his dogs claimed to care for Mor, they hadn’t cared enough to warn her about their deal-making with Keir and himself.

Which left it to Eris to be the compassionate one. Shame; compassion was certainly not his strong suit. There were perhaps only two people in the world he had ever truly been kind to, and one would barely speak to him.

Eris shut out the pain at that thought, focusing instead on the man before him. “Hello, Keir.”

“What is this about,” Keir asked flatly, sitting down at the long table with Eris. They were on neutral ground in the Middle, just feet from the infamous mountain where Amarantha had ruled. Eris gestured towards it. “You know, that’s the place where much of Prythian was trapped and tormented by the dark queen for decades. Seems rather ordinary from here, doesn’t it?”

Keir’s lip twitched. “Quite. But I’m sure all the magic occurred underneath.”

Eris raised one leg onto the table, the picture of the arrogant prince. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Keir? In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Amarantha’s domain was modeled after your own.” Keir’s brown eyes turned dark with rage, and Eris noted his hands fisted against his thighs. “Not my domain,” he hissed. “It was Rhysand’s father who trapped us here. The High Lord is merely continuing the family tradition.”

Eris chuckled. “One would think after fifty years in that place Rhys would be more sympathetic to your plight.”

Keir looked mollified at that, straightening his baby crown over his blonde waves. “Instead he has only cracked down more on us since coming back.”

Eris clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Rhysand got special privileges,” Eris drawled, twisting a golden ring around his finger. “For being Amarantha’s whore, he didn’t suffer as we did. He didn’t need to worry about seeing his mother die right before his eyes, or being impersonated by those creepy Attor, or becoming the nightly entertainment, which typically involved lots of blood and torture. For giving her a little dick every now and then and killing some children, he got away scot-free.”

And Eris knew much of Prythian would never forgive him for it; especially not when Tamlin himself stood against Amarantha for as long as he did. When it was a mere human who freed them all. Eris did not forgive or trust Rhysand, but he supposed he was in no place to judge considering all he had done in his father’s name. He just wished Rhysand would stop acting like such a hero. It made him insufferable.

“Dirty, sniveling bastard,” Keir muttered under his breath.

“Anyhow, I understand your position where even Rhysand cannot. He wasn’t restrained to Under the Mountain like we were. He went there often, yes, but he was free to leave. But now then, Rhysand being a prick doesn’t make you any less of a jackass. Nailing and mailing your daughter to me, Keir? Could you be any more barbaric?” Eris spoke lazily, popping a cork of a champagne bottle as he finished, pouring it generously into a glass he conjured from midair. He then poured another glass to Keir and offered it to him. He didn’t take it.

“She was of no use to me here,” Keir answered coldly.

“No regret about torturing your daughter?” Eris crooned. “Were you hoping I’d accept her still out of pity, perhaps? Surely you knew there’s not a kind bone in my body.” That was true, but preventing Mor from crossing into Autumn territory was one of the greatest kindnesses he could’ve done. Being in Autumn Court territory would have bound her to him forever, and Eris knew she did not wish that at all. Better dead than suffer as his spouse.

“She deliberately disobeyed me and gave herself over to that savage,” Keir snarled, slamming his fists on the table. “This occurred long ago; what is the point of mentioning it now.”

Eris shrugged, tracing a finger across the rim of his glass, toying with Keir. “Well you see, it has always been a lifelong dream of Mor’s to free those girls from the Hewn City. Girls like her who have been trapped in cruel marriages to cruel men. And I can make it happen. I shall, if you wish to make a deal with me.”

“I tire of these games,” Keir snapped. “I already have a deal to be able to access Velaris. Why do I need you?”

Eris smirked. He had Keir right where he wanted him.

“Oh please, Keir, we all know you despise Night Court land, and I wholeheartedly agree,” he purred. “The atmosphere is terrible and the land is barren and who wants to live with all those Illyrian brutes anyway?”

Keir hesitated before he nodded. “True.”

“And as I’m sure you know, I am not merely the general of the Autumn Court armies. I am also lord of the Hestian plains, some of the finest land in Autumn.”

Keir raised an eyebrow, starting to put everything together.

“So, I’ll allow your people to begin to relocate there. But,” Eris raised a hand, interrupting Keir as he was about to speak, “only select citizens of my choice. This is my land, so I get to choose who lives on it. You will, of course, be provided with a fine estate of your own there, and plenty of comforts. Is that not a better deal than the closed city Velaris?”

Keir narrowed his eyes at Eris, considering his offer. “And if I reject your offer?”

Eris shrugged. “You won’t be rejecting it.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Eris stood up, leaning across the table towards Keir. “There’s a reason you wanted your daughter to marry me so badly,” he murmured. “There’s a reason that after my rejection, you seek me out still. Unfortunately for you, I have discovered it. Why you desire me to be part of your family so.”

For the first time, Keir truly looked afraid. Eris relished that look. “And? What have you found out?” Eris was sure it was meant to sound like a demand, but Keir was far too breathless for his words to sound remotely commanding.

“There aren’t many who delve into the mystical arts,” Eris hummed, not letting his eyes leave Keir’s. “It took…more time than it ought owing to my father’s interference, but I discovered the one you went to before you were trapped under the mountain. And, well, with the right encouragement, the woman was perfectly happy to talk to me.” Eris didn’t elaborate on what he meant by “encouragement,” instead drinking in the scent of Keir’s growing anxiety.

“Your daughter will possess the power of Truth,

She shall attain great success with her strength and youth,

Her spouse shall come from Autumn or Night,

Listen carefully, oh Darkbringer, for she may be your plight,

You’ve been gifted the boon of invincibility,

But such a blessing must always be accompanied by an Achilles heel, silly,

Yours is her. Despair, for you cannot have her killed,

Your destiny by her shall be willed.

Should she marry Autumn’s heir, you shall attain untold amounts of power,

But should she marry an Illyrian, soon not even your servants shall cower,

For Autumn’s son shall be your sword,

But the Night’s son shall be your lord.”

Keir’s skin paled. Eris had recited his prophecy to completion. He knew his darkest secret. He had no cards left to play.

“I don’t think you want this information in the Inner Circle’s hands, do you?” Eris whispered.

Keir’s body swirled with darkness. “I could just kill you and be done with it,” he mused. Eris had to laugh. Powerful though Keir might be, he was no match for a High Lord’s heir, especially not Autumn’s.

Eris let his body encircle itself in flame. “I’d like to see you try. You do know what light and heat does to darkness and cold, don’t you, Keir?”

Keir stayed in a fighting stance for a moment longer before he relaxed. “Fine. I agree to your deal.”

“Swear to it,” Eris insisted. Keir looked murderous, but he grumbled, “I swear.”

Eris watched as black swirls creamed up the inside of Keir’s arm. A matching gold mark formed on Eris’s. He winked at Keir. “Good boy. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Then he winnowed out of the meeting spot before Keir could snarl insults at him.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

I can be afraid of the future after this but for the moment I choose to dream of Deku getting all overprotective over Tomura for a while after the mind-sharing experience.

I really truly don't care for me Deku is the only other character allowed to have an opinion about OFA and AFO and Tomura especially. You know how only class 1A and a few pro-heroes can talk about Deku because only they know his situation with his quirk and the burden he inherited from All Might? Yeah, again I don't care. Deku is the only one who can talk about Tomura because he's the one who knows what happened to the Shimuras.

Would Deku be extra polite about it? Yes.

Would be kindly say "you don't know what the fuck you're talking about"? Yes, he would.

It's not like people can't hate Tomura or want him dead. He's not absolving Tomura of all his crimes. I just want Deku to say "maybe the best solution is not killing more people in a war that is finally over, but doing something about it so we can all move on and get better and heal and atone our sins and forgive what we can and make peace with what we cannot".

Deku won't let Tomura go so easily.

Also I think Deku should get Tomura a dog asap