#i don't know if you can tell but i am the Queen of being unable to describe things

[jackoshadows]

The level of utterly hypocritical discourse in the asoiaf fandom.

About Sansa:

Same person about Robb and Jon:

Same person about Dany:

I simply love how there are these multipage essays and economic treatises on how Robb, Jon, Dany Et al. fuck up and fumble and are just bad leaders who don't enforce wage regulations and clause three of the constitution in worker's rights or plan army discipline and Jon is apparently just an 'angry teenager' unfit for leadership etc.

But Sansa? QUEEN IN THE NORTH because she's the blood of Winterfell! ITS WHAT SHE DESERVES NARRATIVELY.

And Sansa, who is currently 13, should be queen because the narrative says so! When, according to the same person, 16 year olds Jon and Robb fuck up as they are too young to be good rulers as per the same narrative that tells them that Sansa will be Queen...

That's what the narrative is telling us - that characters can become the best rulers/leaders simply because of their blood and has nothing to do with experience and learning and wisdom and hey look at Dany, Robb and Jon fucking up when Sansa will magically, simply be the best - the NARRATIVE SAYS SO!

Meanwhile GRRM on ruling:

One thing that I am trying to get at in the books, the political aspect if you would, is to kind of show that this stuff is hard. I think that an awful lot of fantasy and even some great fantasy falls under the mistake of assuming that a good man would be a good king and all that is necessary is to be a decent human being and then when you are king everything will go swimmingly. Tolkien is great but we never get into the nitty gritty of Aragorn ruling. What is his tax policy? How does he feel about crop rotation? How does he handle land disputes between two nobles, both of whom think that they should have the village, so they burn it down to establish their claim. This is the hard part of ruling be it in the middle ages or now. It’s not enough to be a good man to be an effective ruler. It’s complicated and it’s hard and I wanted to show that with repeated examples in my books with my kings and hand of the kings - the prime minister if you would - trying to rule. And whether it be Ned Stark or Tyrion Lannister or Tywin Lannister or Daenerys Targaryen or Cersei Lannister trying to deal with the real challenges that affect anyone trying to rule the 7K or even a city like Meereen and it’s hard. You know, we can all read the books or read history and say oh, so and so was stupid and made a lot of mistakes and look at all these stupid mistakes they make. But these kind of mistakes are always much more apparent in hind sight than when you are actually faced with the decision about, oh my God, what would I do in this situation. How do I resolve this thing? Do I do the moral thing? But what about  the political consequences of the moral thing? Do I do the pragmatic, cynical thing and kind of screw the people who are screwed by it? I mean, it is HARD. And I want to get to all of that - GRRM

Apparently, when it comes to Sansa, GRRM will be saying:

" I mean, it (ruling) is EASY. The food conundrums that Jon and Dany are unable to solve in entire books will be easily tackled by Sansa who will just ask everyone to bring their grain to Winterfell! Easy peasy and one and done! I mean, Sansa is the BLOOD OF WINTERFELL! "

These chucklefucks don't know the first thing about narratives and themes. The result of GRRM not writing a book in 13 years is wading through shite like this.

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

"what makes you think you can..?"

(bingo challenge prompt #2 :D)

pairing: re4!leon kennedy x gn!reader word count: 693 warnings: arguing? does that count idk, angst maybe??, mentions of ashley (my queen), leon throwing disses at you for sure, no kiss kiss :(, unrequited love?, leon's a man of few words yall

takes place during re4 :3

"what makes you think you can just walk away?"

leon's voice is icy, brimming with poison when you turn your back to ashley and him. there's no doubt in your mind that he has his gun aimed and at the ready where you stand at the bottom of the dirt path. "leon, stop-" "ashley, you've been amazing company but i can fight my own battles." you say firmly, slowly turning back to face leon to show you mean no harm towards them. "don't worry, i think you can drop the act by now." he says with a glare, rainwater glistening off of his gun and drenching the three of them. you only hum in response to that, looking over at ashley: it'd really only been a few days since you'd been tagging along with the pair, but the look ashley was giving you was like you'd just kicked her dog.

"what tips you off that i'm with the bad guys, hm? am i too friendly, too giving?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest as leon tightens his grip on his gun. he doesn't respond, just keeps glaring at you with this indiscernible look in his eyes. ah. you muster up as much face as you can, trying not to both relish in and repent the way you can sense his hurt from a mile away; maybe ashley was picking up on it, too, it would make more sense as to why she'd been so willing to bond with you while leon kept you at arms' length. "who will i tell, leon? who could i possibly working for that needs to know if the president's daughter gets home safe or where she is? i don't exactly see the locals welcoming me with hugs and kisses." you say, earning a scoff from leon that makes you swallow thickly. "something tells me this is a need to know basis. but i'm also not gonna end up being the one 6 feet under when i find out who needs to know."

you let out an incredulous laugh at that, shaking your head before smiling coldly up at leon; god, you wanted to smack that stupid gun out of his hands and shake him. "i bet you used to be fun at parties. i really don't know what else i can tell you to let me home free." you say, the three of you unmoving as thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. leon seems to just stare at you (or through you) almost in shock though it's not evident on his face. his features falter for a second, one of those 'blink and you'll miss it' moments and then you see it: under the grime and rage and stress and years he'd never even been a shadow of a thought in your mind, you see him. the boy he'd told you only bits and pieces about that explored a strange city and a strange police station ravaged by destruction and gore. the boy who never had his famed first day. the boy who's job first and foremost was the protection of others.

the moment's gone before you have time to process it, watching leon put his gun away and turn on his heel in the opposite direction; anything you wanted to say was lost to him now. ashley is left to look between the two of you, unable to meet your gaze and her eyes meeting leon's back. "ashley, let's go." "leon-" "on me." ashley's lips part in shock a bit as leon keeps walking, not looking back even once. she looks over at you, worry obvious in her expression. you finally meet her eyes, giving her a smile that says 'what can you do?' and waving her off. she doesn't take her eyes off of you, walking hesitantly before eventually turning away to catch up to leon. you watch the two of them disappear behind a patch of trees, standing in the rain for a bit longer; you tell yourself it's to show him you won't follow them but if he glanced your way for even a second, you'd join them again in a heartbeat.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

I MISSED LEON KENNEDY SO BAD, he was actually going to be my first prompt but this one helped me create that sweet sweet drama

thanks for reading once again! im having such a good time writing for this challenge and being able to do small pieces instead of one big piece. i hope you all are enjoying it too! :3

next prompt:

one finds the other crying

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3

[jacaerysgf]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Seven | Oh.

Summary | Jacaerys reflects, is annoyed by his family and learns some troubling news.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warnings | not proofread, probably ooc, jealous jacaerys

Word count | 1.6k

Series Masterlist

After you had left, Jacaerys felt himself grow bored of the events. The lady who had interrupted you two of you was now clung to his side, faking sickness he got to leave the garden earlier than intended. But not before he snags one of the roses from a bush.

 Once he finally makes it back to his room he sighs and sits at his table with his head on his hands. How much more of this could he take? He lifts his head and admires the flowers you had given him earlier that morning and touches them lightly.

A knock on the door startled him, “Enter.” His mother walked in and he stood up, “Your grace-” The look on her face made him pause, “Mother.” She smiled.

“I heard you were feeling unwell, are you okay?” He nods as he looks down, unable to look at her, “I'm sorry mother I just…” He trails off, he doesn't know what to say. “You don't have to apologize for my sweetness.” She touches his cheek and lifts up his head, “Sit.” 

He sits down in the chair he was just in and she sits in a chair next to his and grabs his hand. “You can tell me anything you know about this.” He nods and looks down. “I know my mother.” She smiles and nudges him, “So are there any ladies you like.” He looks up at his mother with a slight glare and she laughs. “I'm just asking sweetheart there must be at least one who caught your eye.” He moves to shake his head no but his mothers words cause him to freeze, “Maybe a certain girl who brought you some flowers.” His eyes widened at her alarmed, How did she know- “I am not blind my boy it is nice being queen you have eyes and ears everywhere.”he’s embarrassed. “She is not a true mother.” She's quiet and has a pensive look on her face before answering. “I told you, Jacaerys, these festivities are for you. You are free to pursue anything or anyone you wish.” 

She squeezes his hand and smiles at him, “I do hope you can keep your options open however, This decision is not one to be made lightly.” He nods as he considers the other ladies but you are the only one who pops into his mind just as you had all day. “She is the only thing I can think about.” His mother gives him a shocked look at his admission before she can speak. Another voice cuts her off, “That's exactly how I felt about your mother.” Two of them look at daemon who had silently entered the room. Rhaenrya smiles at him as he comes over and places a hand on her shoulder.

“You remember what i told you earlier don't you.” He nods as the demon's earlier words play in his mind, ‘ pursue what you want.’ “What did you tell him?” Rhaenyra asks but daemon does answer, shaking his head with a smile. “I'm sorry to interrupt but they need you for a council meeting.”  Rhaenyra stands and nods as she kisses jacaerys head, “I love you.” “I love you too.”

They leave and jacaerys is left alone. He picks up the rose he had gathered earlier from the garden, he wanted to give you his rose, give you his heart, he didn't care had he just met you, many people married with less of a connection anyways it would be no different. He rummaged through his drawer to find a small knife daemon had given him as a child and sat back down in the chair. He had no clue how to dethorn a rose, his fingers started to bleed slightly as he held the rose in his hand, Despite not knowing how he knew he couldn't give it to you like this. He sat there for a while cutting away at the rose until it looked good. He didn't know if it was dethroned but it was the best he could do. 

He left his room and he looked around. Where could your room be? He had no clue where to even look, he began to roam the halls but stopped and thought to himself. He couldn't go to you directly, He hasn't even asked your father for permission to court you, it would be terrible. But how would he get the rose to you?  Lost in thought he barely notices ser erryk walk into the hall and looks alarmed to see the prince. “My prince!” Jacaerys looks at him and an idea comes to his mind. “Ser erryk.” Erryk bows, “Good afternoon my prince.” “Do you happen to know where the lady dunn’s room is?” Erryk tilts his head, confused, “I do my prince, is something the matter?” 

He looks around quickly, noticing no one is there he turns back to him, “I need you to deliver something to her room during tonight's dinner, you must not be seen.” Ser erryk nods hesitantly, “Of… Of course my prince, anything.” Jacaerys hands him the rose he had hidden behind his back. Ser Erryks eyes widen and he sighs in relief as he smiles, “Of course my prince.” Jacaerys nods and turns to leave.

He walks down the hallway feeling satisfied. Once you got his rose you would know his intentions then the next day he shall ask your father for permission to court you. He smiles to himself as he imagines you and your smiling face, seeing you laugh and hearing you talk. “Ugh you're disgusting.” Aegon, he stands leaning against a wall with a cup of wine in his hand. “Imagining that poor girl from the poor house again.” “Shut your mouth, Aegon, do not speak badly about her.” 

Aegon fakes hurt before he rolls his eyes, “You're stupid if you think you're going to marry that girl.” Jaacerys glares at him, “What do you mean?” Aegon shakes his head and turns away from him, taking another sip. “This whole event is a lie, you're not going to get a choice, it's just so your mother knows all of her options and she can pick one that suits her needs. When she went on tour she never got to pick, they forced her to marry ser laenor, Your feelings dont matter.” 

Despite how hurtful Aegon's words are, they seem so real he can't help but believe them. The voice in his head plays this earlier conversation with his parents in his head. Maybe Aegon is just screwing with him like always, or maybe he’s being serious. He's not laughing like he would usually do and he's not even trying to gauge his reaction. “You don't mean that.” Aegon scoffs and turns to leave, “Take my advice, just forget about her and move on, you won't see her again after this.” It's too real, he doesn't even wait to see what he’ll say, what his face would look like he's gone in a blink of an eye and it makes him sick.  

No, his mother wouldn't lie to him. His father wouldn't lie. Is this whole thing really just a pretend event? Dreadfills his bones as he thinks of the flower he had sent to you. Maybe he should find erryk and ask him not to, before he can go searching he's rushed back to his room to get ready for the feast.

He’s hoping he can see you during the feast. He’s quickly proven wrong however. He never gets to see you, between your far away seat and him having to dance he never even gets a moment alone. When he finally gets to breathe and looks for you he spots you talking with joffrey arryn. He feels sick, he wants to march over there and steal you away. He sees you laugh and his hands clenched into a fist, he wants to be the one standing in front of you, getting to admire you and chat with you.

He almost walks over there but he doesn't get the chance as you leave, his eyes follow you as you go. He shakes his head and attempts to get back into the conversation this girl is desperately trying to keep in front of him but he can only think about you.

The next morning he woke up feeling worse, he had tossed and turned for the majority of the night not being able to find peace. Once he had been dressed for the day he had breakfast sent to his room to avoid his family.

Despite when all he wants to do is lay in his bed and rot his brother comes knocking on the door. “Come on, let's go train.” Jacaerys sighs as he sees lucerys and aemond standing in his doorway. “I dont know-” “It is your duty as crowned prince you must come.” Hearing almonds tone he knows he can't get out of it and gets up, “What has you so upset anyways?” Lucerys asks as they begin to walk down the hallway. “Well he's obviously heard the news.” This confuses jacaerys, “What news?” Aemond is not the one who turns to him confused, “The news that the lady dunn has entered a courtship with ser arryn for the vale? Is that not why you wear that odd look?” Jacaerys freezes and he feels sick, he hopes he’ll snap out of his dream and wake up to reality but it never comes and lucerys wears a face of horror. “Really?” “Yes, he asked her father for permission this morning.” All he wants them to do is shut up. Lucerys turns back to jacaerys “Brother-” “Do not say anything.”  

This can't be happening. 

----

Tags: @abrielletargaryen @aemondssiut @elissanatok

[girlswhowantboystobegirls]

Kissing Classes ♡ Luke Castellan x M!Reader

1st chapter ☆ 2nd chapter ☆ you're here

3rd chapter summary: you ask silena about the girl luke is hooking up with. then you talk with luke.

1.6 words

warnings: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh none? (bad words.)

tags: FRIENDS TO LOVERS AND THEY ARE OBSESSED, pre-tlt, multiple queen and blur references, omg silena what are you doing here???, fluff, lots of hugging and uhhhh idk

III. Who the fuck is this girl?

Silena and you were doing counselor duties, mostly checking if things were still at their place or were missing. You decided it was a good time to ask.

— Is there... any girl who is going out with Luke? He can't stop talking about this Sofia from the Aphrodite cabin — you asked casually, slightly laughing at the last part.

— Sofia? There is no one in my cabin named like that... — Silena didn't look at you, she was way too immersed in a single sword, you didn't question it —. If anything, we felt Luke and you were dating.

"What the actual fuck" you thought.

— Wait, are you sure there isn't a new camper called like that or that snuck out with Luke or something?

— I know my cabinmates very well — she responded and moved to another section of swords —. You should talk to Luke. I can deal with the rest.

You looked at the amount of sections left. There wasn't an awful lot, Silena could do it.

— But-.

— No, no. You go talk to him. I am the daughter of the Goddess of Love anyways — she winked, you looked a little confused by the whole situation.

The Aphrodite Cabin Counselor didn't give you time to say no, she moved on and started noting on the notepad what was lacking and what wasn't.

Luke was at the infirmary today. You remembered. You thanked Silena and went to where you supposed he was.

— Luke Castellan — you said when you arrived and saw him. To be honest, you had some breath to catch —. We need to talk — you regained composture.

Luke excused himself to his companion for today and went outside the infirmary with you.

— When were you going to tell me there wasn't any Sofia? — you asked decisively —. You either changed her name, used me for your benefit or tried to pull a prank. Don't play with me, Castellan — you looked intimidating to Luke when being angry at him.

— There isn't any girl.

— Alright. I see it — you nodded, waiting for an answer —. Were you trying to experiment with me?

— No, not at all — he furrowed his brows.

— Are you gonna prank me? Where are the Stolls? — you seemed more and more desperate to know what in the Hades was going on.

— It isn't a prank. It's stupid actually, I- — he fidgeted a little and looked away from your gaze, which was penetrating his eyes at that moment —. I really wanted to kiss you because, because I liked you. It's a little dumb — he was blushing quite a lot.

Your mouth and eyes were open wide, unable to receive the information.

— I know you don't feel like that and I know that it was bad for me to do it. I can still get you the cd player and the date-

— You- you didn't have any other way to confess apart from asking me to give you kissing lessons? Wow, Luke, I'm- — you laughed —. It's funny. I'm a little mad at you, but I do feel the same. BUT it doesn't mean what you did was right, and I still really want the cd player.

Luke looked at you, mostly with a confused expression on his face, like he was still processing your words.

— I liked you since a long, long time — you confessed awkwardly, trying to avoid the curly haired boy's eyes.

Fuck, you really were two idiots who couldn't put their feelings into words.

— You mean it? — Luke finally talked.

— Yeah — you nodded.

— Maybe I can get you a date after all, with me — he smiled.

— Get me the cd player and I'll make us a date with real music — you joked, but soon afterwards became nervous as you realized what you two were just talking —. I mean- I just- Well, you know-

Luke cut you off by pulling you into a tight hug. Maybe you have had two kisses between both that required consent before them, but it was different with hugs. You didn't hug all the time, but when you did, it was totally worth it.

You start to remember some times you had hugged Luke. He once defeated you in a swordfight when you were still relatively new, and you hugged as a way of saying "we are alright". Maybe that was the phrase for every time you both held the other; like that one time after a Capture the flag, you were slightly bruised and he came to you when his team won. Your cabin was in the opposite group, but who cared? Maybe your body hurt due to the injury and Luke's embrace, but it was alright, you both were alright.

It looked like neither of you wanted to pull away, and that was alright.

— I was selfish, right? — Luke asked, hiding in the space between your neck and shoulder. He really was seizing the very few centimeters he passed you in terms of height.

— Yeah — you giggled, he did so too, and you felt his laugh vibrate slightly on your skin, it was nice —. Why were you scared anyways? As far as I know, every smart person here and you know about my preferences.

— Yeah, but I didn't think I could be one of them.

— Silena told me the Aphrodite Cabin thought we were dating — you mentioned —. I think you were oblivious.

— And you weren't? Mister cd player? — he joked, resting his chin on your shoulder this time.

— Hey, if you gave me that cd player I could listen to all my cds all day.

— Alright, I'll give it to you for our anniversary — he giggled. You both were still hugging.

— Might buy myself one before that, Castellan — his last name coming out of your mouth wasn't weird this time, it just felt like teasing —. Gods, you are thinking of an anniversary and we didn't even ask each other if we wanted to be a couple!

— I didn't? — Luke realized, pulling away from the hug fast, now ashamed that he confessed but did not ask you to be his boyfriend —. Gods-

— If you listened to Queen, I would make a reference, but I'll cut it short — you smiled —. Wanna be my boyfriend?

In every scenario Luke had of getting into a relationship, he never thought you would make the move. He was just standing there, looking at you. And you both were still at a hug distance, yet (as if it was possible) the boy got even closer and gently put his arms around your waist. He stared at your lips, then at you, then your lips. You nodded.

This time, the kiss was commanded by you both, no one leading the other. You even wondered if Luke had been learning through other ways too.

You cupped his face. The kiss was a result of a lot of time of longing, but it was sweet, not too slow or too fast. Just perfect.

But you both eventually had to pull away because oxygen was needed. And both of you wished it really wasn't.

You stopped cupping his face and noticed Luke was looking at you in the most loving way possible, and he hid in (now his) space near your neck.

— You grabbed me by the waist because I told you to do that with this nonexistent girl? — you laughed a little at your words.

— Maybe. I thought you would like it — you felt a smile on his face.

— Imagining I'm a girl, Castellan? — you teased again.

— Not at all. I don't care about that stuff.

... TiMESKiP ...

Rumors in camp spread like a plague. And the fact that some people in the infirmary were able to see you and Luke being all lovedovey made the talking go crazy. Not that Luke and you cared.

During lunch, you sat beside Luke in the Hermes Cabin table like always. But this time you had quite a numerous amount of eyes on you. Oh how things change when two best friends become boyfriends.

— Is it true? — one of the boys at the table asked, he probably was around six or seven years old, which made him curious and direct.

— What? — Luke asked with a smile. You were trying to eat a piece of your food.

— That you are dating — the little boy answered. You decide you shouldn't focus on food right now, even if you were practically starving.

— We are — your boyfriend nodded slightly, then looked at you with his stupid, loving, addicting grin of his. You manage to smile at him too.

The whole place erupted with celebration screams. Had Chiron and Mr. D allowed that? You doubted so. But the centaur was smiling and the other was way too focused on his Coca-Cola Zero.

You turned at Luke again, deciding to stop caring. He was still looking at you in the most down bad way. You smiled more honestly this time. The noise was still notorious, but gods- wasn't it just great to have Luke stare at you as if you were the most perfect boy in the world?

And he thought you looked beautiful when smiling at him only, only at him. He noticed every single detail of your face, you were truly happy.

In his eyes, you are the most perfect boy in the world.

Luke hadn't listened to a Queen song ever in his life. How could you tell him your life went from Somebody To Love to Don't Stop Me Now? He had to get you a cd player. Yet.

The celebrating stopped and you were still looking at each other. Luke's siblings tried to get both of you out of your staring session. The Aphrodite Cabin was once again gossiping and giggling. Your siblings looked proud of you and your boyfriend, everyone was.

Curse those damn Kissing Lessons and then listening to The Smiths or The Cure inside of your head. It 'always should be someone you really love'. And you really loved Luke. The best of it all? He really loved you too. You were romancing way too hard.

Nothing is wasted, right?

a/n: and so the story finishes ! I hope y'all liked it. I honestly am tempted to make a bonus chapter but this is it for now<3 thank you!

[darkbluekies]

Hi blue! I hope you've been feeling well! If you don't mind, would you give us a sneak peek of what you're currently working on? I'm looking forward to whatever it is 💖💕

🥀

Here are some that I've started :)

Let's hope I'll finish them

The hedwig diaries: "I want to kill"

Dear diary, I want to kill and you have to believe it's more than just selfish reasons. I don't know what else to do. I respect everyone, why can't they respect me? Why does no one think that my relationship is serious? I love Y/N more than anything else in this entire world! Am I the only one seeing that? Certainly not, right?

Someone tried to approach them today in the cafeteria. I could see in an instant that he had no good intentions. I've tried to get Y/N to ditch the grotesque cafeteria food, but they won't hear me out … I can't for the life of me understand why. I've told them that I can get my chef to make lunchboxes for us both, but they squirm when I'm trying. I think it's because of what others will think. Y/N wants to blend in and not stand out. Being with me only complicates that. They told me once that if they would start eating food from my house, they'd stand out even more — people might even think they're a gold digger, that they're using me. I know Y/N, I know they're not. Why do they have to care what others think so badly?

Deja vu [Dr Kry x female reader]

He copies the telephone number from the page into his phone. His hands are trembling. He can’t believe that he’s going to speak with you again! Dr Kry walks out into the corridor and dials. He holds the phone to his ear, swallowing. 

“Hello?”

Your sweet voice is enough to cause his legs to shake. He suddenly feels like a schoolboy again. Oh, how he hates it. 

“Y/N …”, he whispers out when remembering how to speak. 

Silence. 

“Why are you calling me?” you ask harshly. “How did you get my number?!”

“Your son came into my office and-”

“Oh my God! Don’t touch him, please! Kry, please, he’s innocent.”

Hearing you plead like that again gives him the confidence back. 

“Don’t freak out now”, he says. “I’m not going to hurt him. Better yet, I’ll cure him … but I won’t let him go unless you come here. Alone. And if you tell anyone I’ll cause an … accident. You’re familiar with those, aren't you?”

“You fucking madman, Kry!”

He smiles. 

“So you’ll come?” he asks excitedly. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes then. I’ll be waiting.”

In our own world [king Edmund x female reader]

"Who were you talking to?" Edmund asks without looking up from his desk. "Fuck all of these papers make me insane!"

"It was the queen, your majesty", the guard answers.

Edmund snaps his head up, his heart skipping a beat. You've finally come to him?

"What did she want?" he asks quickly.

"She just wanted to speak with you", the guard answers. "Nothing more. She said that it could wait so I sent her away. I know how you said that you didn't want to be disturbed-"

"You fucking idiot! That rule implies for everyone but her. Go get her."

"Yes, your highness."

The guard runs out of the room, sensing that he's upset king. Edmund sighs frustratedly, shaking his head.

He returns with you by hid side just a minute later. Carefully, he walks out and shuts the door behind him. Edmund smiles fondly as he sees you.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me", he says softly.

"It was nothing important", you say.

"Yes, it was. Come here."

He pats his lap. You walk over to him slowly and sit down on his thigh. Edmund smiles and wraps his arm around your waist securely.

The balance of a youngster (might change the title) [Silas x reader]

You hide the bloody, crying boy behind you.

“How fucking low are you?!” you shout, unable to control your feelings. “That’s a child for fucks sake!”

You might not be able to stand up for yourself in his Hell house, but you can’t watch them hurt a little kid.

“Lower. Your. Voice.”

Too late. They freeze with their eyes stuck on Silas coming out behind them. You look at him over your shoulder, growing cold. You’ve disturbed his work.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Silas mutters. “I’m trying to work.” He caresses your shoulder protectively. “Baby, are you alright?”

“I’m okay”, you say. “But these men are hurting this little boy.”

He stands between you and the men. You grab the little boy and turn around to walk back inside.

“Boss, that little shit tried to grab my gun and run”, one of the men sighs.

“I don’t fucking care, alright?” Silas hisses and glances towards the back door to make sure you didn’t hear. “How stupid can you be to do this outside where people can hear? Especially Y/N! How many times have I told you to watch what you’re doing?!”

“We didn’t know they were allowed to walk freely around the house”, the other man says. “Honestly. We thought they were either locked in the basement or bedroom.”

Silas sighs heavily. “Idiots.”

Scaring me [Jerry x reader]

Carefully, she lifts your fingers to her plump lips and kisses it softly.

You look at the cabbage.

"Don't think about it", Jerry tells you. "You're not going to continue. This was a stupid idea. Why did I ever think it was okay for you to use a knife? I trust you too much. Fuck sake. You hurt yourself. Get out of the kitchen."

"It's just a little cut …", you say. "I wanted to make something special for you. I had it all planned …"

She cups your cheeks between her hands.

"I know, baby", she says comfortingly. "And I'm very grateful that you wanted to do something for me, but what kind of girlfriend am I if I let you get hurt, hm? My number one priority is to protect you."

"I know, but …"

"I'll continue this. Go sit down in the living room. People like you shouldn't be allowed into kitchens."

I'm planning to make a oneshot where you escape Hedwig too, but I haven't started it yet!!<33

[v3nusxsky]

Can I get a lady lesso X reader where the teachers are doing a group bonding as part of the unification of the schools (aka getting drunk). This leads to everyone sharing their stories of how they were in school and since most of the teachers are of similar ages they'd discuss shared iconic school moments. However since r is much younger than most of them only being 20ish they didn't attend with any of them so nobody knows how r was. This leads to much suspicion as r has been very silent and was very reluctant to talk about it. They get worn down and it is revealed r was secretly a very rebellious punk never student which is a complete 180 from them being a nerdy ever teacher in the present. Everyone is shocked by this especially lesso who wants to know why r changed so drastically and why they pretended to be an ever so confronts r later on when they are alone. R reveals that they have really strict parents who were both very powerful/well known evers and they ended up disowning r and all the people in their friends from when they were a teen ended up dying or in jail so they really don't have anyone so thought it'd be better to reinvent themselves because they know everyone judged them and their friends based on looks and being a never but anyone who actually knew them would know they were really cool people who just had a really fucked up life that for the most part was their fault. Lesso ends up telling r to be themselves for her if not for r's teen self and r agrees to the next day. Everyone is shocked by the transformation and lesso is just over here trying not to die from how hot r looks.

Who you truly are|NSFW

*Authors note ~ okay so this is an amazing prompt and so detailed. I am going to bace reader off one of my oc so it's going to link to queen Regina from ouat ever so slightly. I hope that's okay.*

Trigger warnings~ praise overstim kink mistress kink jealousy sex insecurities unable to be themselves alcohol usage

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Ever since the schools have merged, there's been tension on both sides. Learning to co exist in ways they hadn't had to before was hard. Some unwilling to try others not knowing what to say or do. That is why a new rule was passed for all professors. The Unification rule was probably one of the best parts of the merger. Strictly adults only and a lot of alcohol. You could quite easily see it becoming your favourite part of the month. Once a month you got to see everyone interact without the usual rivalry.

You were completely tipsy, half way there to that happy drunk state. Pretty much everyone was either drunk of tipsy by now, the conversations flowing effortlessly as you all chattered nonsense really. Clarissa decided you should all share memories of your time at school. The other teachers were a fair few years older than you so the versions they described were quite old fashioned. It was interesting to think of them with back combed hair and drastic makeup. The images your mind was conjuring up was making you giggle hysterically. That seemed to have drawn attention to you. They immediately asked what you looked like, how you acted, if you were always the nerdy Ever that preferred to be buried into a book.

You visibly pealed and tried to bluff your way through and of course Leonora called you out on your lie. Their suspicions looks told you that it wasn't only Leonora that didn't quite buy your tale. You then had to completely tell the truth. Truthfully, you were quite the memorable student in your school days, but not for the right reasons. The gasps of shock and questions seemed to poor from the others. Leonora smirked at your description of yourself and the glint in her eyes told you that she wouldn't be dropping it that easy.

The night trickled on and you were downing alcohol like it was tap water. Truthfully you were two sheets to the wind by the end of the night, slurring absolute nonsense. There was this one Never teacher, she called herself Isadora if you remember correctly, and she was flirting with Lady Lesso. The rage you felt at the sight was overpowered by the instant insecurities you felt. Suddenly everything that was you seemed average. The attributes you usually loved seemed to be nothing in comparison to Isadora. And the way she makes Lady Lesso laugh like no other, yeah you were definitely jealous. You didn't realise just how badly until Leonora placed her hand on Isadoras shoulder and leaned over into whisper in her ear, you were glaring daggers into Isadoras head. If looks could kill she would be dead. And that most certainly didn't go unnoticed by the dean of evil, she quickly dismissed the unaware teacher and made her way over to you watching as you rapidly blinked trying to disguise your jealousy.

"Come pet, you're absolutely out of this world" she purred leading you away from everyone else and back to her chambers. If you were sober you would've noticed however, you were absolutely out of your mind so you followed willingly. And that was how you found yourself tucked up next to her where you passed out instantly. She couldn't help but chuckle and follow suit after making sure there was some water at your bedside for the morning.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

The sunlight seeped into the room through the gap in her curtains, stirring you awake with a groan. God your head was pounding, and the sheets too damn comfortable. Wait. Your head was resting on someone? With a small peak from under your eyelashes you saw the one and only Leonora. A blush rose over your cheeks at the fact you were in her bed, the fact you remained in last nights clothes meant nothing other than sleep had occurred. A chuckle next to you roused you from your thoughts. "Awake now are we pet?" God her morning voice. You'd imagined it of course but nothing could compare.

As if she read your mind she reassured you, "nothing happened love, and I know just how badly you wanted it to. But i would never take advantage of such a pretty play thing. However, now you're more or less back to normal all you have to do is ask." You lay there in shock. No way was she offering what you thought she was. Right? "But what about Isadora" you whimpered, your insecurities showing. Her laugh was everything, "Isadora isn't my type darling. I don't want her I want you if you'll let me have you" was all it took for you murmur a simple plead.

"Mistress darling, say it. Say please mistress like a good girl" she taunted you loving how eager to please her you were. "Mistress please I want you" you whined. That was all it took for her to straddle your hips and capture your lips in a possessive kiss. She was claiming you as hers and truthfully you'd never been happier than here and now.

Leonora was a diligent lover, she placed kisses all over your skin as she exposed it, paying almost worship like attention to every part of you. She murmured praises and reminded you just how perfect she saw you to be. The sweet one had to be when she placed her lips directly above your heart and whispered, "this is my most prized possession of you'll allow me to have it pet."

After all her worship like attention everywhere but where you were aching for her, she started to please you in ways you'd never been pleased before. Leonora made your past lovers seem like fools, you were use to one climax and done, but this women brought you over that edge time and time again. Not even stopping to ask for anything in return. Praises were constantly thrown at you as you violently fell over the edge for her. "Mistress! Please can't' no more!! Hurts so good please" you all but whined. You were a complete mess, and she was loving every moment of it. "One more pet, just one more like the pretty girl you are. So good for your mistress" she murmured before bringing her lips back to your clit. It was the feeling of her younger flattening against you that had you coming with a strangled cry. She fucked you through it before moving to clean you up. There you lay with half lidded eyes and completely fucked dumb for the very talented Dean of evil.

Word count ~ 1451

[buffyfan145]

Morfydd gave a new interview at the Canneseries TV Festival about "Rings of Power" and teased season 2!!! :D It's in French but my browser translated it and I'll post behind a cut and a link in the comments to the article, but she actually mentioned how she and Charlie played Galadriel and Halbrand/Sauron's relationship as ambiguous so that it could be interpreted however the audience wanted to see it including romantically!!! LOL :D And it was Charlie's idea. LOL Could be the translation but that seems to be what she said which contradicts the press tour and what Charlie said in interviews. Then she also went into how she's been playing Galadriel being so sad and lonely and how devastated she is about what Halbrand/Sauron did to her, but is happy to know thanks to the LOTR movies and books she loved her whole life that she'll be ok and reunited with Celeborn at some point!!! It's the first time she's mentioned Celeborn in an interview too. She also then went on to say she's excited to see Charlie fully as Sauron in season 2, which seems to confirm like the other spoilers he's still the main form going forward. Again full translation behind the cut but I'm even more excited for s2 and honestly this confirms to me Galadriel really was in love with Halbrand/Sauron and still loves her husband too like I thought all along.

The Canneséries festival awarded the Welsh actress, who carries on her shoulders the prelude to Amazon Prime's Lord of the Rings, the Madame Figaro Rising Star Award. Meeting.

Floated Friday night on the Croisette, an air of Middle-earth. To open its sixth edition, the Canneséries festival presented its revelation prize to Morfydd Clark. In the Amazon Prime blockbuster series The Rings of Power, a prelude to the events described by Tolkien in The Lord of the Rings, the Welsh actress appropriates the character of Galadriel. The future great and wise elf queen of Peter Jackson's trilogy, played by Cate Blanchett. For her first recurring role in a series, the 32-year-old actress rose to the top. But remains in interview of disarming spontaneity and enthusiasm.

Le Figaro - What inspires you about this Madame Figaro Rising Star Award? Morfydd Clark. - I can't believe it. I am deeply grateful. It's a crazy chance to headline a program watched all over the world. At school, I was a calamity in French. Having been unable to unravel this mystery, I have always had the impression that your culture and language were phenomenal. This prize of a French festival so young, so warm touches me more than you imagined.

The Rings of Power ended with the thunderous revelation that Galadriel's Halbrand's alluring traveling companion was none other than the devious and dangerous Sauron in human form. Which unleashed the fans. Did you follow their turbulent debates? I've never been more anxious in my life than in the weeks leading up to the show's launch. Until that moment, The Rings of Power belonged to me in its entirety. Once online, it becomes the property of the fans. I love their imagination. I don't go on the Internet. But my sister scours the forums and selects me the theories that I might like. Some extraordinary ones defy comprehension. Others are aiming for the nail on the head. But I can't tell you more. I did not expect that the relationship between Galadriel, Elrond and Halbrand would be so dissected even if I imagine that the slightest perfume of prohibition - and still I am afraid with this word to say something I should not - can only stir passions. Halbrand's hold on Galadriel was less connoted in the scripts. It was Charlie Vickers who plays Halbrand who had the idea to make it ambiguous. Supposing that these quasi-divine beings can feel human emotions. Were we in a relationship of seduction or power? It's up to the viewer to decide. Extremely kind, Charlie was the best partner to play it. I can't wait to see what he does with his Sauron.

Looking back, how do you view Galadriel's trajectory? In The Lord of the Rings, Galadriel is at peace with her and rules Lothlorien. The series takes this path backwards by imagining the most extreme starting point. It's soothing to know that no matter how sad, her loneliness consumes her soul entirely and obliterates the rest in this first season, to which is added Halbrand's betrayal, she will overcome these trials. For the immortal beings that are the elves, the course of time is different. One can be separated for a lifetime and find oneself like Galadriel and her husband Celeborn, currently missing but present in The Lord of the Rings. That's what I love about fantasy: through magic pierce human experiences.

You've said it over and over again, Tolkien's writings rocked your childhood. I was born in Sweden. It was first the stories of Astrid Lindgreen, creator of Fifi brindacier, who accompanied me. It was my gateway into fantasy. Suffering from attention disorders that made my schooling trying, the fantasy characters, who managed to exist differently, were a great source of comfort. Wandering the Misty Mountains with the Hobbits, who have always had my heart because of their benevolence and vulnerability, was a wonderful escape. Peter Jackson's trilogy came out when I was 12. I was spellbound. During a bad time at school, I even watched The Two Towers every day. My parents were a little worried (laughs). When I realized that I was auditioning for The Rings of Power, I said to myself: "No room for failure, you must succeed". To find myself in the New Zealand landscapes was an enchantment.

What was the tipping point that made you embrace your acting career? I had to leave school at 16. I absolutely did not know how to endure and manage the stress of exams. I auditioned to join the Welsh Youth Theatre Company. I couldn't believe that after so much criticism at school, they finally wanted me. On stage, no one scolded me anymore. I made people laugh. For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged. I went on to get a place in a conservatory. I was incredibly lucky that my first steps in front of the camera were in 2014 in front of Carol Morley's historical drama The Falling. She protected us, made us feel safe. It is no coincidence that the actresses of this project Maisie Williams (Game Of Thrones) and Florence Pugh (Don't Worry Darling) are nowadays so much in demand. The psychological horror film Saint Maud which was my first experience of a leading role was also a special experience. I discovered that I loved horror, a mind-blowing testing ground with an audience that still appreciates risk-taking, even if it doesn't work.

What can you tell us about season 2 of the Rings of Power that you are filming? Nothing, except that it's exciting! I'm too afraid to accidentally let slip a spoiler. It's amazing to be able to reconnect with your character and your playing partners. It was also necessary to get back in shape: horseback riding, fight sequence and stunts. I kind of let myself go on that (laughs). One of the most surreal moments was the passage of Prince Williams on our sets. It's amazing to think that this public figure is a fan of our work. We even chatted in Welsh!

[coquelicoq]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

i was tagged by @littleragondin! mci mon ami.e !

3 Ships You Like: in a kim dojka & yoo sangah platonic life partners phase rn. god. they would get married but not because they particularly care about marriage, just to bypass the hoops the government makes single people jump through in order to adopt kids, but kim dokja would seriously hesitate for the sole reason that him marrying yoo sangah would make all three of his parents very happy in a way that he would find incredibly annoying.

ok i'm doing another platonic one: moon & ember! i have read the few existing moon & ember fics so many times i can no longer separate them from canon. their dynamic is everything 2 me. bodyguard & anger translator. damaged hottie with trust issues & naive little pretty boy who just wants to go home. moon sees ember as not just a romantic rival but also a threat to his place in the colony, and of course being moon, his reaction to that is not to challenge ember but just to assume that he's been replaced and that he has to start over again alone. ember is everything that moon is not, everything he's convinced he's supposed to be, but ACTUALLY they're both perfect the way they are and there's room enough in this court for the both of them. they are so powerful when they combine their complementary skillsets for the good of the colony. plus i love that every time he interacts with anyone moon is probably thinking, "ugh, i bet EMBER wouldn't be fucking this up"…but also he's defending ember when stone makes fun of him and offering to challenge the reigning queen on ember's behalf! he's protective of ember even as ember embodies everything that makes him insecure. meanwhile ember thinks moon is the coolest person to ever exist and also. extremely cringe. probably 25% of his pillow talk is him subtly trying to convince pearl that moon is just a little birthday boy who should be allowed to be a hugely oversensitive weirdo, as a treat.

people have been rbing some of my cherry magic posts recently so i've been thinking about kurodachi again. i miss them! they're so well matched, so complementary in the ways that they need to grow, and it's lovely to watch them help each other do that. the way that adachi is inspired to make an effort by kurosawa's continuous striving for things he thinks he'll never get, and the way that adachi's apathy for perfection frees kurosawa from his need to be worthy…like ok fine whatever i am listening!!!

First Ship Ever: i have been sitting here trying to think of an earlier ship so i can avoid embarrassing myself, but if i'm honest it's probably ron/hermione. moving right along.

Last Song You Heard: one week by barenaked ladies! what a banger.

Favorite Childhood Book: when i was a kid i had meticulously curated my top ten favorite books, but now i can only remember half of them: island of the blue dolphins, the witch of blackbird pond, ella enchanted, walk two moons, and mrs. frisby and the rats of nimh. can you tell i had one of those bookmarks that listed all the newberry award winners and was working my way through it? lol.

Currently Reading: i just finished my reread of maskerade, the discworld book about the opera, which i had put on hold after reading le fantôme de l'opéra. it wasn't one of my fave discworlds as a teen but i think i'm now in the right headspace for it. enjoyed it quite a bit!

i'm near the end of both the traitor baru cormorant by seth dickinson and par amour by valérie tong cuong. the latter is about a family in le havre during wwii and is very hard to put down. i have honestly no idea what will happen in the remaining two chapters except the nazis are going to lose the war. the traitor baru cormorant is well done, but i don't think i like it enough to read the sequel. (i still am pathologically unable to stop a book that i've started, but i've just discovered that i am capable of stopping after book 1 of a series. life hack!!)

Currently watching: natsume season 4 dub! i just watched the moon-splitting festival arc and the baby nanase episode yesterday. next up is the one about natsume's picture of his parents which. like. let's just say i am marshaling my emotional forces for that one.

also it is about to be march madness! selection sunday tomorrow babey!!!

Currently consuming: the great thing (sarcastic) about living alone is that you spend four hours making this quinoa black bean dish and then have to somehow eat all of it before it goes bad. luckily my neighbor and i have been doing this cute thing for the last ~6 months where we share whatever food we make with each other. this has been working out extremely well for me, because when he cooks i get to eat without having to do anything whatsoever, and when i cook i don't have to worry as much about quantity. i feel like i tricked him into it somehow even though he is getting exactly the same thing out of it as i am.

Currently craving: a baked good i made for the first time recently and then made again two times in rapid succession because i (and my neighbor lol) liked it so much: gingies! okay technically the recipe calls them gingerbread cookie bars, and i just looked up "gingies" (to make sure it's not an offensive term for redheads that i don't know about) and apparently it's frequently used for gingersnaps, but MY use of "gingies" is right and correct and all these other people are idiots. the reason is that they're basically brownies (texture/structure/technique-wise) but with the gingerbread flavor profile instead of chocolate. and "gingeries" sounds stupid, so gingies it is!

tagging @treecakes, @joelletwo, @qserasera, @defeateddetectives, @ctl-yuejie, @deimos-the-wolf, @stupid-lemon-eater, @loreofcardigan, and @dangerliesbeforeyou if you feel like it! no pressure obvi!!

[no-m4gic]

Hello dearest I'm back hehhe

Idk how to call you so I'll just call u no magic :⁠^⁠)

It's me again Ik ik I'm annoying but omg I adore Ur writing like Ur my fave on the app rn so I was thinking maybe if you write angst to fluff argument scenario for byakuya!? I mean u don't have to since Ik some plp aren't comfy w that do if u aren't u can just write some general headcanons lysm have a nice day cutiepie

omg angst yes thank you plasma also you can call me sitaya :) thanks for your suppport <33

i have no idea what you want the argument to be about so i just went to watch msa rich people stories

also i found out how to turn on dark mode yyyay!

i spilled noodle soup on my shirt while writing this damnit byakuya give me your money to buy some gucci and a new washing machine

warnings ;; angst obviously, abuse, hitting, yelling, dramatic flashbacks, mentions of drugs

~mod sitaya

COMFORT // BYAKUYA X GN S/O

you heaved a sigh, listening your husband, the almighty byakuya togami, insulting one of his new servants for *accidentally* spilling some champagne on his top. you were just waiting for togami to finish his whole dramatic scene and tried not to think about the havoc going on right next to you. at least he wasn't yelling at the servant.

well since you've heard byakuya throw spiteful comments at servants several times, you knew how long this would go on for. your mind was protesting you tell togami to stop being such a bratty bitch despite already knowing the result you'll receive. "s/o. this is my business, stay out of it,". you've heard it thousands of times, and you don't want to hear it ever again.

you were zoned out until you heard those words. "you know what? you're fired, get out of my face you plebian," you turned to look to your side, only to see byakuya shooing the servant away. it looked like she was crying, too.

even though this was normal on his part, it definitely wasn't anything good on yours. how heartless of him to just send someone away for an accident and start casually sipping your coffee, right next to your partner too.

"hey dude, that wasn't cool. she was apologizing, you didn't HAVE to fire her... plus you could just wash the champagne out," you said, in your calmest demeanour. "she deserved it. what am i even paying her for if she's just going to ruin my belongings," wow. way to go. "just because you think she and almost everyone are under you doesn't mean you can treat them like trash!" byakuya set his coffee down and turned to you, giving you that all-so familiar leave-me-alone face. "if you want to side with her, how about you go chase after her and go apologize for your husband's behavior since he doesn't want to,"

"well maybe i will- and leave your hellhole of a mansion!" you got up and stormed away to your room. byakuya just shrugged and continued with his extra black and bitter coffee, you'd get over it and wear yourself out eventually.

after locking the door, you flopped onto your queen-sized bed and buried your face into the fluffy pillow, unable to tell if you wanted scream, cry or both. well, your hunger kept you distracted from your emotions... and your emotions kept you distracted from your hunger. you were tempted to grab something to eat, but you didn't want to see your husband's face right now.

you woke up to the sound of banging on your door. this... wasn't your room, were you even in byakuya's mansion anymore? it wouldn't be possible that he'd drugged you since you never ate or drank anything nor would it be possible that he or his workers carried you elsewhere as you were a light sleeper.

your thoughts were interrupted by screaming and crying. there was a painful silence before you heard something being thrown across the room and a cry before everything turned silent again.

scanning your surrondings, you immediately realize this was your old room when your eyes met a picture of you, your mom and your dad. you knew what was happening behind the door of your "room". not wanting to see or find out if your theories were true, you hid under your ragged blankets, trying to fall asleep again, hoping this was all just a bad dream.

your eyes flew open as you gasped, sitting up from your bed. your actual bed. it was all just a nightmare. a flashback. after a while, somebody started softly knocking on your door. you hated yourself at that moment for hoping it was byakuya just coming to check on you or something.

getting up to unlock the door, you passed your vanity mirror and saw you were pale, sweating and shaking. grabbing the door handle, you used all the strength you had to pull it open, revealing who you'd hope to be behind the door. your husband. "byakuya-!" you jumped onto him to hug him.

"yeah yeah, hi. i just came here to apologize for... this morning," he hugged back, with his same disgusted face. you knew he's just like that whenever he received affection, though. "so, what happened- you're all sweaty and stuff," he gently pushed you away and folded his arms, looking down (or up if you're somehow taller than daddy long legs) at you.

"it's nothing, just a bad dream," with him around, yea, you felt better, but to say you've recovered fast would be an understatement. "hm. alright," he gave you a suspicious look before turning back to where his room was, but not before announcing something you've been wanting to hear for so long. "also, since you wanted to, we're going to disneyland."

DISNEYLANDDD sorry if it's short! i rushed the ending slightly so uhm it might not have *fluff* fluff, but i tried to make it as wholesome as possible :,)

[kuromhiel]

Could you write atsushi x gn!reader where reader has a very similar background to atsushi except they grew up with their parents until they turnd 18? Maybe reader opening up about their ptsd, and bonding + mutual comfort over not-so-great childhoods ;w;

Sorry if this is too much of an ask, if so i totally understand!! I love ur writing btw ❤️

Pffft...Relatable

GenderNeutral!Reader

↛Atsushi Nakajima

Warning(s): NOT PROOFREAD

↝Requests are open!

"You should do better." Kunikida commented, Dazai being a drama queen he is, putting a hand on his hand. "Why I tried my hardest, Kunikida-kun!" He said, striking a pose.

Kunikida rolls his eyes as he hits Dazai, the brown-haired male wincing in pain.

"You think that's trying?"

You froze at their conversation, the words feeling a bit too familiar. You excused yourself, walking to your desk as you took short deep breaths.

Your friend, the grey-haired male looked up at you, feeling confused as he watches your current state.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" He asks, concerned. You pause, your eyes widening as you froze in place.

You were having flashbacks to those times wherein you don't feel free at all, you're always haunted by the overprotectiveness of your parents and the way they would torture you mentally.

"[Name].." Atsushi let out a shaky breath, he puts a hand on your shoulder till' you came back to reality.

"Atsushi?" You looked up at him, a bead of sweat dropping from your forehead as you look at him with horrified eyes, as if you've seen a ghost.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" He asks, removing his hand on your shoulder. "No, nothing happened." You laughed it off, walking to your desk as you sat on your chair.

Atsushi sighs, walking to his desk which was beside yours. "Are you sure..? Don't try to avoid anything, [Name]. You can tell me..." He looks at you with concern, your breath hitches as you look at him.

"Let's keep this between us.." You started, looking away from him as you stared at your desk with sad eyes.

"The words of my parents. It's been haunting me lately." You pause. "As if they're ghosts. I-I can't even think of something else if someone says words similars to theirs."

"I can't think straight at all, I get a pang of deja vu, get scared, and all of that. I just, don't want it to destroy me." You said quickly, as if you were trying to say it all in one breath.

He looks at you surprised, unable to say anything for a few seconds before his gaze soften. You looked into his eyes again, the two toned colors were your favorite. He blinks before giving a soft smile, "Can I share something about my part, too?"

You nod slowly, "I have been haunted by the Orphanage director's words aswell. As if what they're saying is true when I make a mistake." You look at him with sad eyes. "But, take those words as a way to fight back. Prove them wrong and repeat those words that they've said. They'll be furious."

He chuckled, seeing your face soften a bit after his little joke. "I barely did anything that was enough for them, that's what they said. I was a child, I wasn't supposed to do much yet, although they treated me as if I was an adult. My young days have been..Taken away from me."

You sigh, a bit saddened again. Atsushi's hands comes it's way to yours, he holds both of it in between his slightly big hand and slender fingers. "Now it's your time to make it up for them, feel like a child again, it's okay." He encouraged you, you giggle.

"Oh really, what about you then?" You smile softly, "I didn't get the childhood I wanted either, but I'm sure my life now will make up for it." He smiles. "I didn't know you were quite optimistic." You laughed, "Oh sometimes I am, but I always am when talking to you." He gives you a big warm smile. You pause, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as he took a few moments to realize.

"I-I mean, I- I didn't mean-" You bursted out laughing at his excuse, making him more embarrassed. You relaxed for a bit, seeing a smile on Atsushi's face. "You're quite happy now, aren't ya?" You commented, letting out an airy laugh. "I'm happy you're happy." Your eyes widen at his comment.

"I'm sorry for all the things that guy has done to you, Atsushi-"

"Shhh, no it's okay." He cuts you off, "Actually, I'm sorry for the way your parents treated you, you deserve more than all those things you've had to go through. If I could turn back time I would defend you till' I die! Really, I'm sorry you didn't deserve su-"

You quickly cut his rambling as he felt a pair of soft lips crash into his, pulling away already in just 2 seconds.

"That's what you get for cutting me off." You smirk, leaving Atsushi quite flustered. "I don't regret it.." He mumbled.

[sydsrichie]

'til queendom come, ch. 6

[masterlist] [Ao3] [playlist]

aemond targaryen x targaryen oc

wordcount: 11,116

ch. 6, storm's end: then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical incest, abusive parent/child relationship, nsfw/18+ in later chapters, mentions of canon sexual violence & abuse (including against minors), spoilers for HoTD/F&B

a/n: please don't hate me for this one :) or if you do hate me, at least write me an ask telling me how you hate me so I can amuse myself with it :)

SPOILER WARNING: this chapter is where the spoilers for the books start! Unsullied, ye be warned!

The next days seemed to hold all the tension of a strung bow. 

Prince Daemon had the castle garrison and even the dragonkeepers drilling in the yard, and Lord Corlys joined his wife at the war table. After some persuasion and a count of dragons and dragonriders, the Velaryons formally joined their Queen’s cause, and it all started to feel very real very fast.

Later in the morning, Jace and Luke would be taking flight, the elder to the Eyrie and Winterfell, the younger to Storm’s End.

At sunrise, however, Sena found herself on the battlements of Dragonstone, looking out across the bay. She could not sleep. Out there, over the horizon, was the family who had raised her. Helaena and her precious babes, whom Sena had only held once. Queen Alicent. The so-called Aegon II. And Aemond.

Aemond, who loved her. Aemond, who had called her a coward. And what was this, if not cowardice? Not knowing which way to turn, only knowing she wanted to run. Rhaenyra was the rightful Queen, Sena knew it in her bones. It had been the King’s wish - her dear, sweet uncle. And more than that, Rhaenyra was born to be Queen. She had all the qualities and training of a good ruler. She could be hard and soft, steel and silk. It was a balance that Sena admired, and one she was unable to strike herself.

Sena looked down and scrubbed her hands over her face in frustration - at her family, at herself. Could she get nothing right? She was forceful at all the wrong moments and then much too soft in the moments where she needed her strength. She felt herself being jerked around on a string by every member of this family and she felt powerless to stop it.

She sighed and leaned her forehead against her hands, willing the cool granite wall she leaned against to sap some of the restlessness from her exhausted body. She could not even fret properly, it seemed, her mind clouded with sleeplessness.

“It is a good place to think, is it not?”

Sena startled. She dipped into a deep curtsey. “Your Grace,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on the ground so as to avoid Queen Rhaenyra’s gaze.

“Rise,” her stepmother said, and Sena followed her command. “It seems I am not the only one in the castle who cannot find sleep.”

Sena shrugged as the Queen came to stand beside her, clothed in a simple black gown, hair unadorned except for a silver-blonde braid over one shoulder. “I just… didn’t believe it would come to this, my queen. Maybe that makes me a fool, like everyone says. I always knew there was a chance that Queen Alicent and Aegon… I just couldn’t live in a world where we would end up doing this to each other.”

Rhaenyra nodded solemnly. “I cannot say that makes you a fool, because I wanted to believe it too,” she sighed. “But believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to prevent this from turning to bloodshed. I no more want to turn dragon against dragon than I want to send my boys to war. I have already lost one child to this treachery,” she laid a hand on her still-swollen stomach, and Sena could see the pain that still pulled at her with every step. “I will not lose another.”

Sena sighed. She believed Rhaenyra would do all that was in her power, she just did not know if that was enough.

The Queen turned her gaze on her. “Why do you stay, Sena?”

“My queen?”

“You do not need to lie, not to me. You have no great love or loyalty to my husband. You cherish the young ones, yes, but they cannot rival the affection you have for my own brother and sister. And we both know I have been guilty of moving you about the board like a pawn in the past.”

The list of people who hadn’t used her as a pawn would be shorter at this point, so Sena could not hold it against her. “I swore obeisance to you, my queen.”

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “That is a politician’s answer. Saying something without really saying anything,” she said. “The Dragonmont is not guarded day and night, you could take your dragon and go anywhere you like. King’s Landing, Dorne, Essos… what makes you stay?”

Sena considered the question properly for a moment. Why was she here? The Summer Isles, the Free Cities, further east to shadowy lands she had only ever read about - they all called her name. All she would have to do was mount Grey Ghost and chart her course east. She sighed. Why was she still here? “Someone needs to stop this family from bringing about its own extinction.” She said it more to herself than the Queen, but Rhaenyra bowed her head anyway. Whether it was shame or fear, Sena had no clue.

There was the sound of a door opening behind them and Maester Gerardys stepped out into the brisk morning air, his arms already laden down with rolls of parchment. “Your Grace, my lady,” he said, performing the appropriate bowing and scraping before handing over the papers. “Replies from Lords Massey and Celtigar, your Grace. A report on the training of the guard, and best estimates on the men we can count on rallying to our aid, should an attack come.”

Something dangerously like hope twinged in Sena as she eyed the papers in his arms. “Anything for me, maester?”

Gerardys looked caught off guard and surveyed the papers in his arms, as if he’d already forgotten she was there. “Er… oh yes! One here, my lady.”

He handed over a scroll with a broken seal and Sena unravelled it in haste, only for her heart to fall when she saw the header. “Oh.” It was only a bill from her seamstress for her new winter dresses. She would pass it on to her father’s steward to be paid.

The Queen was focused on the letters of the Lords she was hoping to rally to her cause. “Your Grace, I will take my leave of you so you might continue your work,” Sena said, bowing her head.

Rhaenyra nodded absently. “Thank you, my lady.”

Sena retreated, feeling no lighter than she had when she’d come up here.

She was in such a daze, her mind churning so quickly she nearly walked straight into Jace and Luke on the stairs. They were in their riding clothes, wearing heavy cloaks. “Sorry,” she mumbled, sidestepping them.

“We’re just about to leave,” Jace told her with a tight smile. He looked like he wasn’t sleeping well either. 

“Of course,” she said, pinching her nose. How could she forget? “Safe travels. Don’t let Vermax and Arrax fly you into any migrating geese.”

Luke grinned at her, though he looked a little nervous. It was understandable, she guessed. It was a big journey and a heavy responsibility for one so young. “I shall be back in no time, I reckon. Mother says it is not a terribly long journey.”

“It is not,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Just a leap across the bay, you’ve flown similar distances before. And your mother, your betrothed and I will await your return, to give you a hero’s welcome.” That made him blush as she turned on Jace. “And you, I know Lord Stark is ages with you, but I trust you won’t get up to any hooliganism with him-“

“I’m not a hooligan-“

She arched a teasing eyebrow. “Mhm. That’s what they all say. Just remember, you’re the Prince of Dragonstone, our future King. Come back safe.” With that, she pressed a kiss to his brow, then to Luke’s, who made a show of wriggling away from her with typical adolescent disgust. She laughed as they went on their way.

Jace paused and turned back to her. “If I see Lord Royce at the Eyrie,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “I’ll tell him our sister wants her castle back.”

Sena grinned, shaking her head at him and watching until they were out of sight. 

She spent the rest of the early hours of the morning in the training yard, desperate to rid her mind of some frenetic energy and get her blood pumping. But it seemed even her most time-honoured methods of calming herself down were evading her. All she could see on the training dummy was Aegon’s wispy hair, Ser Criston’s white cloak, Aemond’s eyepatch. All men she might have to meet on the battlefield before long.

She gave up when she overbalanced in a strike and her boot skidded in the mud, sending her to her arse. Not even a real opponent and she had still ended up dead. She groaned and threw her sword down. Seven Hells. At least her father was too wrapped up in his warmongering to have witnessed it.

She returned to her rooms to change out of her sullied breeches, picking up the dress she’d discarded on the floor earlier with a sigh. The letter Maester Gerardys had given her that morning fluttered out of the pocket, another menial task for her to busy herself with. She cast it down on her writing desk along with her other letters and was about to go back to changing when something caught her eye.

The bill had landed next to Aemond’s last letter to her, the one he’d sent before her journey to King’s Landing. And… the handwriting was similar.

Too similar. She picked them both up and squinted at them.

Aemond’s handwriting was as meticulous and controlled as he would have people believe him to be, and he crossed his ‘Z’s and his sevens. And the bill itself…

5 yards of Qartheen silk, sapphire blue.

She did not own such a gown, and it would be ridiculous to order one for winter at any rate.

For a second, she just stared at the invoice and the letter, side by side, trying to figure out what it could mean.

She scanned the writing for anything strange. Flipped the parchment over. Blank on the backside. Was she going mad? So lost in stress and longing she was seeing him everywhere?

Something itched, deep in her memory.

“I actually read something the other night about an invisible ink. We could write to each other with it and only the other will know how to make it appear!”

“Invisible ink? How?”

With a gasp, she held the parchment out over one of the pillar candles that lit the recesses of her room, watching the blank side with a sickening anxiousness.

The heat from the candle spread under the parchment, making the corners curl, and brown lettering began to appear. Her heart leapt. “Aemond,” she whispered.

My love,

I have no clue if this will work and no assurance that you will even remember a conversation between children some four-and-ten years ago, but I had to try. 

I am so sorry. So sorry for everything I said that last night in the Red Keep, for putting you in this position between our two families. And I am so sorry for what I must tell you now.

My king has commanded me to Storm’s End, where I will win House Baratheon to our cause by pledging my own hand in marriage to one of Lord Borros’s daughters.

I have always loved you, Sena, and I fear I will until my dying day. My only hope is that in letting you go, I will make your choice easier for you. Run if you can. Fight if you must. Just know that wherever you are and whatever you do, my heart is yours.

A.

“Oh,” she breathed. Oh.

She knew. She knew they would not be married now. She knew they were over, finished, a distant memory. They could not fight on opposite sides of this war and hold on for each other. Especially not Aemond, whose hand in marriage was as fine a boon as the greens had to offer. She never expected it to be so soon, though. It was a gut punch. It had not been a moon’s turn since he kissed her sweetly and told her he loved her, and now he was to fly to Storm’s End and claim a bride-

Storm’s End.

A blind panic climbed Sena’s throat and it was all she could do not to scream. The letter slipped from her hand and caught fire in the flame but she did not care. It could burn to ash on the flagstones, she had to go and go now.

Still in her training gear, she grabbed her cloak and flew out of the room, taking off down the hall at breakneck speed. There was no time. She could not even think on the Prince’s words, she could not begin to let herself feel what they meant, she only knew she had to get to Storm’s End now.

If their last visit to King’s Landing had made anything clear, it was that Aemond had spent the years since his eye was gouged out honing his rage like a weapon.

And that meant Luke was in danger.

Sena raced down the steps and into the great hall. She rounded the corner to go out to the yard - and clashed headlong into Rhaena.

“Sena!” The girl shrieked, holding her arms out to steady her sister. “What’s gotten into you?”

Sena tried to pull away but Rhaena held on. “I don’t have time to explain, Rhaena! Get father, get your grandmother, anyone you can, tell them to follow me to Storm’s End!”

Rhaena gaped at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Aemond will be there when Luke arrives!”

Rhaena blanched. “Gods,” she swore, and it struck Sena as an odd thing to hear coming from her youngest sister’s lips. Then they took off in separate directions at a run.

Sena sprinted out into the yard and thanked all the Gods that the gates were open to allow a shipment of food in. The guards were too stunned to stop her as she stripped past them. The Dragonmont was close now, and she followed the path to Grey Ghost’s cavern that she would have known in her sleep.

The half-blind grey dragon was already on high alert when she got to him, that peculiar thing in their bond that let him feel her own emotions at work. There was no time to saddle him - Luke already had an hour’s lead on her - so it would have to be like their first time flying together, then. They were both a little bigger than they had been then, but she trusted him. She clambered onto his back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and they were off. Grey Ghost prowled forward, following the dark cavern he knew by heart out of the Dragonmont. When Sena felt fresh air on her face, she commanded him “Sōvēs!” Fly!

Grey Ghost surged into the air with a mighty beat of his wings. As they climbed into the air above Dragonstone, she strained to see if she could spot anyone white haired following her to the Dragonmont. Hurry, she thought. Hurry. I don’t know if I can do this alone.

The morning sun cast the sky in a beautiful light, but as she guided Grey Ghost south, grey clouds loomed on the horizon. She gritted her teeth. She could not lose the sun. She had never been to Storm’s End in her life, could only point to it on a map. It was roughly equidistant to Dragonstone as King’s Landing, just in a more southernly direction, on the coast of the Narrow Sea. If Aemond had the chance to hurt Luke because she had not paid enough attention in her geography lessons-

There was no use even thinking about that, she thought firmly. Grey Ghost was a lot bigger than Arrax, his wingspan could make up for lost time.

Her arms were cramping already and she adjusted her position, settling back onto Grey Ghost as she would if she had a saddle. She clutched at the ridges of his spine and settled in for the ride. She kept looking back to see if any other dragons had joined her, but she could not make out any, and soon she would not be able to see far for the cloud cover. It looked like she may well be on her own.

South and ever so slightly west, Sena did her best to keep her bearing without the sun to guide her as the miles disappeared beneath Grey Ghost’s wings and Blackwater Bay gave way to more southernly waters. With every second, minute, hour ticking by, Sena’s heart thrummed in her chest, her stomach churning with nerves. Let her not be too late. Whatever Gods were listening, she begged them to hear her. 

Then, true to their name, the skies above the Stormlands grew tempestuous. There was a far off rumble of thunder. Hope and dread mixed in equal parts inside her. Maybe Luke had not even made it to Storm’s End? Maybe Arrax had grown fearful and turned around, navigating back to safety, away from the storm. 

Or maybe he had been struck down by a stray bolt of lightning.

The first droplets of rain stung Sena’s cheeks. She looked down past Grey Ghost’s wings and racked her brains. A large isle sprawled out to her left. Could it be Tarth? That meant that the bay below her was Shipbreaker Bay, so Storm’s End was due south-west. The visibility was poor - the spitting rain had turned into a downpour - but she thought she could make out the ancient keep dating back to the Age of Heroes, standing in defiance against the wind and waves.

The clouds encroached and the rain was pouring down. Grey Ghost howled in distress. He was flying blind in this weather and the wind was throwing him around. She was both of their eyes now, she thought dully. The Gods had a sick sense of humour.

Just when she was about to give up and land Grey Ghost further up the coast - she would have a better chance reaching Storm’s End alive on foot in this weather - a sudden blast of flame caught her eye. Dragon flame. “Bē! Paktot!” She commanded, and Grey Ghost loyally obeyed despite his distress, curving his path up and to the right. I’m so sorry, she longed to tell him, I’m so sorry for scaring you like this. But she didn’t. She would tell him when she got them both out of this alive.

She could make out Arrax now, a small shape, rising high into the clouds. Thank the Gods, she thought, and commanded Grey Ghost after him. If Arrax was alright, there was a chance. A chance that Luke was alive and clinging to his back.

Light burst across Sena’s field of vision as they broke the cloud cover, and Grey Ghost screeched at the sudden brightness. She blinked rapidly, and ahead of her she saw a small figure on Arrax’s back, twisting at the sound of Grey Ghost’s screech.

“Sena?” Came a faint cry on the wind, from a familiar boyish voice.

“Luke!” Sena screamed in reply, relief crashing over her like a tidal wave. He was okay! He was alive. Gods be good, he was alive.

“No! Run!” He was shouting back to her, barely audible, and the relief she felt melted away as she took in his and his dragon’s panic.

If Luke was okay… what had Arrax been breathing fire at?

That was when the largest dragon she had ever seen broke through the clouds.

Time slowed. Arrax was in distress, flapping his wings violently to stay aloft on the thin air. She could hear a familiar voice mounted on the newcomer howling commands, commands she knew like the back of her hand, but the ancient beast gave no sign that they had been heard.

Luke was not looking, too distracted by her presence.

In some small way, she was glad of that. Glad she could save him the fear before the end.

It felt like a thousand years, but it was all over in a heartbeat.

“No!” A scream ripped free of her throat as she watched Vhagar’s jaws close around the youngling dragon. Arrax’s wing drifted on the breeze, no longer attached to a body. 

There was nothing left of Luke.

Grey Ghost roared and let free a blast of flame in his distress, banking rapidly out of Vhagar’s path, back down into the clouds. Sena’s arms screamed at the sudden turn and she threw herself down onto her dragon’s neck, rain battering their bodies as they fell down, down, anywhere but into Vhagar’s jaws. Grey Ghost was practically sightless again in the dark and the lashing rain, and Sena was numb all over. Could not think or act or even breathe. She heard Vhagar’s roar and knew the beast was descending too, closing in on them. They needed to change paths now, before she met the same fate as her poor little brother.

She could see the water rising up to meet her, and she commanded Grey Ghost to swerve flat. They were low over the bay now, the cliffs were rising around them on all sides and only one of them could see where they were going.

That was when a furnace blast blew past her. Her cloak caught alight and before she could unclasp it, it was singeing into the back of her legs and Grey Ghost’s scales. She screamed in agony and Grey Ghost panicked, banking again, flying this way and that, desperate to get out of Vhagar’s sights.

They got so turned around that she could not even see Vhagar or the bay or anything anymore, lost in the storm with the senseless turns they had taken. Then, right at the last second, lightning flashed and Sena caught sight of the jagged cliffs that rose above Shipbreaker Bay. Dead ahead. So close, there was no time, no time to command Grey Ghost to turn, no time to do anything but-

Let go.

She let go.

She closed her eyes, but even the wind howling past her ears could not drown out the sickening crunch as the blind dragon collided headlong with the cliff.

Sena’s body hit the water with force and she collided with the rocks at the base of the cliff, hidden just under the sea foam. White hot agony ripped through her side, knocking the air from her lungs. She surfaced, gasping for air and not being able to draw any as the icy cold water buffeted her from side to side, scraping her limbs over the razor sharp rocks surrounding her on all sides. She was lost and helpless, barely able to tell which way was up and then the water was surging over her head as her dragon fell into the waves.

Her dragon. Her Grey Ghost.

She kicked to the surface, choking out a lungful of salt water. Her throat burned. She tried to move but the pain in her left arm where she had hit the rocks made her vision swim. She pushed her right arm through the cold. She had to get to him, she thought weakly. He could still be alive. He could still be-

Water crashed over her head and she reached out blindly, gripping at bone and membrane. She dragged herself forward. Her throat was raw, her lungs on fire. She pulled herself up onto his wing with her good arm.

Grey Ghost did not try to resist the rolling of the waves. He just… lay there on the surface. Wings splayed. Head twisted at a wrong angle. Dead.

The broken girl let out a scream. 

Overhead, a dragon roared.

-----

“Sena!"

“Sena? Sena!”

She did not know how long she had been in the water. Her limbs were numb and she could feel the hard scales of a dragon beneath her cheek. The swaying of the waves had somehow stopped. Had they washed ashore? The sound of her name and distant, hurried footfall. The whicker of a dragon, salt on her lips. She tried to lift her head.

“Don’t move. Stay still,” the voice, a man’s voice commanded. She was more than willing to listen. Every bone and every muscle felt like it had been wrenched out of place. She’d never move again if she didn’t have to.

It was quieter, now. No howling wind or lashing rain. The waves had reduced from a torrent to a crash on the sand. “It’s alright,” the man’s voice said. He was getting closer. “I’ve got you.”

There were hands on her upper arms, attempting to roll her over, but the second any pressure went onto her left arm, she let out an agonised scream. “No! No!” She begged. Her voice sounded broken in her ears.

“Fuck,” the voice swore. “Oh, my girl."

The man stepped back, leaving her blissfully alone. Then another voice joined the fray, a woman’s this time. “You need to move her. We can’t be here and we still need to find Lucerys.”

The man grumbled and stepped up to her once more. “I’m sorry, Sena, but we need to go.”

She screamed as her broken arm shifted. The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her stomach heaved, her vision spotted, then all she could see was white. She could have been out for seconds or hours, there was no way of telling. But then she felt the sway of the man’s gait, felt his feet struggling through sand, and she knew she was no longer sprawled out on the corpse of her oldest friend. Her left arm was placed over her chest and she was being cradled to a man’s leather jerkin. She slowly opened one eye, squinting against the glare of daylight, willing her head to stop rolling, and her heart lurched in her chest. Her eyes caught on silver blonde hair and she struck out with her good arm against her captor’s chest. “No! No! Get off of me! Get off of me!” She struggled in his grip and the man stumbled in the sand, nearly dropping her.

“Sena!” He shouted as she rolled dangerously in his arms and he fought to stop himself pitching over. “Sena, it’s me!” She looked up. Two eyes looked back at her instead of one, and they were deep purple like her own. “Sena,” Prince Daemon murmured. He pulled her into his chest and steadied himself. “It’s me. It’s Dad.” 

She was crying. She was so glad to see him. She let her head loll in the crook of his arm, seeking the warmth of his body, the familiar scent of his jerkin. “You’re riding Caraxes with me,” he told her, regaining his footing and struggling on through the sand. “I’m taking you home. Rhaenys will stay to search for Lucerys.”

Luke.

“Oh no,” she moaned. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes.

“Sena? What is it?”

It hurt when she breathed, like the inside of her ribcage bore metal spikes that pierced her lungs. “Luke,” she mumbled, pressing her face into her father’s chest, trying to hide. If she could just hide… but she could hear Luke’s shouts ringing in her ears, see what was left of Arrax tumbling through the sky when she shut her eyes. If she had not been there, if she had not distracted him at the crucial moment, would he have lived? “Luke. I couldn’t save him, Father. I couldn’t…”

Daemon stumbled in the sand, jostling her painfully. “What?” He asked, confused.

“Vhagar,” she said. “It was Vhagar.”

“I…” Prince Daemon was lost for words, for the first time she could remember. “We… all that’s washed up is you and Grey Ghost, love. Not him, not Arrax. Are you sure? Are you sure they didn’t get away?”

There were hot tears on her cheeks and she nodded weakly. “There won’t be a body,” she croaked, and she could hear her voice breaking. “There’s nothing left.”

The look on Daemon’s face was shocked. Bleak. He stood there for a moment, the high wind on the beach whipping his hair around him, cradling his eldest daughter to his chest. His expression went grim. “Cousin,” he barked. Sena winced at the loud sound.

Further up the beach, the voice of Princess Rhaenys sounded again. “What is it?”

“We’re not going to find Lucerys,” he said. “There’s nothing left to find.”

-----

Sena had only brief periods of consciousness to mark the passing of time.

There were a lot of solemn faces. And the crying - the crying was endless. She would open her eyes and see Joffrey sniffling at her bedside, or her father staring at her limp form from the doorway. Rhaena slipping a brush through her curls. Baela seemed to rarely leave, more often than not curled up asleep on a seat in the corner.

It was only when the grasp of the milk of the poppy slipped and she was able to move that she realised her arm was bound and splinted from elbow to wrist. She groaned, the pain dimmed somewhat in her drugged state but still there. Baela sat up in a hurry. “Rhaena!” She called.

Sena raised her other arm in a placating manner. “Shhhh,” she rasped. Her head felt fit to burst. The arm she raised to placate Baela was blue, green, yellow and mottled. Seven hells. “Let me die in peace, would you?”

Baela glared at her. “Not funny, Sena.”

Rhaena must have been standing guard at the door or something, as she flew into the room in an instant. “What’s wrong? Is she alright?” The younger twin asked.

Baela jerked her head at Sena. “Don’t ask me, ask her.”

“Sena!” A look of pure relief was on Rhaena’s face as she dashed to her sister’s side. She fell to her knees and took Sena’s good hand in hers.

“Sister, please,” Sena croaked, “keep your voice down.”

“Maybe we should get the Maester? She could get more relief for the pain,” Rhaena said to her twin.

“She is right here,” Sena grumbled.

Baela scoffed. “That’s the last thing we should do. The Maesters have had her knocked out cold for a week. Let her at least figure out what day it is. Or what continent she’s on.”

“A week?” Sena said, moving to sit up. Her bedroom swam dangerously before her eyes and Baela jumped forward to grab her by the shoulders.

“Rhaena! Her pillows!”

Rhaena reached behind her and fixed her pillows, then the twins helped her lean her weight back against the headboard in a more upright position. “A week?” She said again, weakly.

Rhaena wrung her hands. “Maester Gerardys said it was the best thing for you. You could barely move a muscle without crying, Sena.”

“Hmm,” Sena hummed. She hadn’t much memory of what happened after Grey Ghost… and Luke, she thought weakly. “Rhaena. I’m sorry.”

Rhaena brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Whatever for, sister?”

“I didn’t… he’s dead,” she let out a breath and fresh tears brimmed in her eyes.

Rhaena squeezed her hand, her own eyes swimming. “Oh, Sena,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” Baela spoke up from the corner, her voice sounding cold.

Sena shook her head. “I got that letter before he even left,” she mumbled, “if I hadn’t been wallowing in my own self-pity, I would have worked it out sooner-“

Baela scowled at her. “It was the Queen who sent him. Jace chose to go North, not South. Grandmother and I are both dragonriders and did not volunteer to go for Luke or with him. Would you blame us?”

“No-“

“Then why do you blame yourself?” She asked with an edge of steel in her voice. “Why not blame the one person who you could actually blame for this?”

“Baela,” Rhaena cautioned, letting go of Sena to turn and glare at her twin. “Now isn’t the time.”

Baela scoffed. “No, Rhaena, I’ve had enough of it. It not now, when? He killed Luke, Sena. He nearly killed you. If father and grandmother hadn’t arrived, he might have damn well finished the job,” Baela said.

Sena’s head swam. Her stomach dropped like a stone. “Wait, what happened? After I fell? Is Aemond-“ the word caught in her throat.

“Alive,” Baela gritted out. The air rushed out of Sena with relief. “Turned tail and ran as soon as he saw Caraxes and Meleys. The craven.”

“Baela, stop. We don’t need to do this right now,” Rhaena said, sending a glare at her twin. “She needs rest, not a lecture.”

Baela shook her head at her sisters but sat down again. “Leave her to rest, then. Go,” she told Rhaena, her tone still icy cold. “I’ll watch her.”

“You’ve been here for days,” Rhaena retorted. “When did you last sleep in a bed? Or change your clothes?”

Baela shot her own glare back at her twin as she settled herself back into her armchair in the corner of Sena’s room. “My clothes are fine and I cannot fucking sleep anyway so there’s no use trying,” she snapped. “Go on then, if you want her to rest. Leave us.”

Rhaena scowled but got to her feet, saying no more. She looked back at Sena and gave her her best comforting smile. She refilled the glass of water on Sena’s nightstand then slipped out of the room with one last glare at her twin.

When the door clicked shut, Sena turned her unfocused gaze on her sister. Of the three of them, Baela was most like Daemon. She had one leg tucked up onto the chair with her and the other swung and flicked like the tail of a foul-tempered cat. “You should be kinder to her,” Sena chided in her roughened voice. “She’s a good child. Sweet.”

“So was Luke,” Baela said and pulled her leg back up onto her chair so she could hug her knees to her chest. “Look what it got him.”

Sena leaned back against her pillows and let out a pained breath.

She had nothing to say to that.

-----

Sena refused the milk of the poppy as often as she could. The only thing she detested more than the pain was the unsteadiness, the cloudiness. It made her head roll like she was back out at sea, clinging to Grey Ghost’s corpse. It was nauseating.

The birds and sea creatures would be picking at his body right now, she thought. The steady rot would let them pull aside his scales and they would feast on her oldest friend. She could not find it in her to begrudge them that. In some strange way, it’s maybe what he would have wanted, being given back to the animals he had hunted all his days. After all, when she died, a dragon would light her funeral pyre in the tradition of her house. It only seemed right, after spending a lifetime mastering the will of a dragon that her body be taken from the world by one.

Mastering the will of a dragon… what had truly gone on in the skies above Storm’s End? She found she was too cloudy and the thought of Luke’s death was too painful to discern it. She had heard shouting, commands bellowed in the tongue of her forebears. She knew Aemond’s voice about as well as she knew her own, at this point. But what had truly happened? And what reason could Luke have given Aemond to do such a thing and bring a war down upon his head? For that was what this meant, she knew with grim certainty. And not just his head, but Helaena’s, his mother’s, Aegon and Daeron, the twins, Maelor - everyone he professed to love. Had she truly overestimated him all this time? The past had left deep scars on Aemond, physically and mentally. It had made him volatile, sometimes downright cruel, she had seen that for herself. But could he truly do something so vile with no discernible cause, at such a cost to himself? Could he kill a child?

Baela had taken to haunting the corner of her room less as she gained lucidity, but the girl would have wrung Sena’s neck if she could hear her thoughts right now. After everything that had happened, was she truly still trying to find a way to excuse him, to love him? Shouldn’t it be enough for her that he had cast her aside and agreed to wed another as soon as his brother asked him to? That would have been enough to most sane and sensible people, to see they were not wanted. But his letter… his letter.

I have always loved you and I fear I will until my dying day.

She was beginning to fear it too, that there was nothing he could do that would wipe away the memory of the round-cheeked and wickedly clever little boy he had been. How, at cost to his family, he had been by her side and saw something worthy in her when almost no-one else had. The kind man who doted on his sister, brought toys and played at battles with his niece and nephew. He was the apple of his mother’s eye and still somehow managed to be his elder brother’s only friend in the world. The smiles he kept just for her - not smirks full of secrecy and malice but genuine smiles, and he would laugh that boyish laugh of his and kiss her in rooms where anyone might catch them.

Some days when she lay in bed, the battering her body had taken seemed to pale in comparison to the turbulence in her mind. A gaping black hole of grief and all the things she could not reconcile with it, things she dare not take too close to it for the fear that they might get swallowed up too.

There came a point one morning where even the protestations of her body were not enough to keep her in that room any longer. The black thoughts lurked under her bed, in her wardrobe, in the corners the light didn’t reach, in her dreams and she needed away from them.

One more thought of Luke or Grey Ghost or Aemond and she was going to scream the castle down.

Sena sat up in bed with a wince, her body aching in protest but not outright rebelling. She swung her legs to one side, to feel the cool flagstones under her feet once more. The dining room was not so far. She could break her fast with her sisters and Joffrey, ask after Aegon and Viserys and any news of Jace. Her father was plotting his conquest of the Riverlands - Baela had told her so when she asked after not seeing him for about a week straight - and she had yet to see the Queen since awakening.

It made sense, she guessed, the Queen was a busy woman. Besides, what mother would want to look upon the face of the girl who failed to save her son?

The room swayed uncomfortably as Sena got to her feet and the burns on her legs stretched under their bindings. Gerardys had told her she’d been lucky it was only her cloak that caught fire and burnt her. If she had caught the full force of Vhagar’s flame herself, there would likely be little left of her. Lucky, she thought with a humourless laugh as she braced herself on her dresser with her good arm and reached out to grab her robe. 

Rhaena and Baela must have been changing her nightgowns for her as the one she had on right now was a little sour but not dirtied with weeks worth of soil. How long had she even been in her bed, she wondered? Could nobody bring her a damned calendar?

The hall seemed a lot longer than she remembered as she tied her robe about her waist. She could hear voices and the clinking of glasses and silverware. As she crossed the threshold of the dining room though, the voices died.

Baela, Rhaena, Joffrey and the Queen all stared at her. The little boy had not yet mastered the art of tactfulness, it seemed, as his mouth hung open while he took in the sight of her. She must look dreadful. Splinted arm and hair sticking up in every direction. It was the sight of the Queen, though, that stopped her dead. She curtseyed and mumbled a “your Grace,” before she could stare at the dark circles under Rhaenyra’s eyes for too long.

“Sena,” the Queen said, a little shocked. “Should you be out of bed?”

Sena grimaced and lurched towards the table. “Don’t need more bedrest. My arse is numb.” Rhaena hurriedly got up and pulled out a chair for her, taking her hand to help her down. Sena did so gratefully, despite her protestations about her arse being too numb to sit. 

That won her a weak smile from the Queen. “I suppose it’s a good sign you have an appetite.”

Sena turned down the corner of her mouth. The maesters had been forcing turnip soup and gruel down her throat for weeks but even after such a long spell of uninspired cooking, the spread before her was enough to turn her stomach. Feeling the Queen’s eyes on her, though, she picked up her fork and valiantly speared a chunk of ham hock. She had tamed a wild dragon and duelled with Lord Fleabottom himself - she could eat a little pork. “I was more growing bored of having conversations with myself. I can see how it would drive a person to madness,” she frowned. The ham was so salty it made her eyes water. “It appears I don’t have anything interesting to say.”

Baela smirked. “I could have told you that years ago.”

“Hey,” Sena chided round her food, pointing her fork at her sister in what she hoped was a menacing manner. “Don’t give me cheek in front of Joff. I won’t have him learning that bad attitude of yours.” Everyone looked down the table at the young boy and it seemed Sena was fighting a losing battle, though, as he was carving a halfway decent picture of Tyraxes into the arm of his chair.

“Joff, stop that,” the Queen chided, although it seemed half-hearted and Joffrey did not look up. 

Rhaena laughed and leaned in, offering suggestions on how to make the carving more lifelike. “His tail is longer than that!” Baela pointed out, following suit. “No, look, I’ll do it-“

Sena swallowed hard to force the pork down her throat. Now that she had appeased the Queen by eating, she sat back in her chair. “How have you been… my Queen?” She asked, barely daring to look at her stepmother.

Rhaenyra let out a sigh that sounded ancient and weary. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I don’t know. I just… wake up and do the next thing, then the next, then the next, until it’s time to go to bed again.” She looked into the embers in the fireplace. “Even then, I cannot sleep.”

Sena didn’t know what to say. What had she ever been through in her life that could even begin to compare to losing a child?

“The boys have been needing me a lot, that helps. Joffrey has been acting out - it was only his Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys who stopped him from climbing aboard his hatchling dragon and going to burn the capital down,” Rhaenyra said grimly. “Aegon and Viserys are too young to understand, but they need me all the same.”

“What about Jace?”

The Queen’s eyes glassed over with tears. “I begged him to come home, but he refused. He told me his heart was broken but this only made his mission more important than ever.”

Sena’s chest heaved under the weight of her own breath and dug her fingernails into her palms in an attempt to ground herself. “He’ll be a fine King one day, your Grace,” she said, willing her voice to remain steady.

The Queen nodded but they both knew it was no consolation for what she had lost.

There was footfall in the hallway and then Sena’s father was coming into the dining room, gathering a plate of food to take straight to his maps and letters, it seemed. He paused when he laid eyes on her. “You’ve rejoined the realm of the living, have you?” He asked in lieu of greeting as he pocketed a bread roll.

“Just about,” she said and braced herself on the edge of the table as though to get up. “You ought to take me to your war room. I want to see what you’re planning, what’s next.”

Daemon gave her a look. “What’s next? For you? Bed rest,” he said. “You could have died.”

Sena gritted her teeth. So everyone keeps saying. “I think I’ve had enough bed rest.”

He rolled his eyes at her and reached over Baela to grab a leg of cold chicken. The two of them looked remarkably similar with that disgruntled look on their face. Like a moody infant being roused from sleep. “And yet you haven’t miraculously healed your broken arm or hatched another dragon. No, Sena. Maester Gerardys says it will be two moons at least before he’ll take off that splint.”

“Two moons?” Sena balked. “You can’t expect me to sit about on Dragonstone for two moons. There’s a war going on!”

Queen Rhaenyra intervened, likely to save herself the headache of them bickering. “You have fought bravely, Sena. You gave more than you should ever have to. You can rest.”

Sena gave a disbelieving laugh. “I wasn’t brave, your Grace!” She snapped, her voice trembling. “I was scared. And I achieved nothing. Arrax, Grey Ghost… Luke is dead. All for nothing.”

Silence fell around the table and guilt washed over her as her sisters and brother stopped their japing to turn and watch the adults argue. She shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

All traces of humour had left her father’s face, and he set his plate down on the table, his jaw wound tight. “Do not fear, daughter. We shall even the score soon enough.” She didn’t like the look on his face. It had scared her since she’d been old enough to remember it. “And soon enough, every traitorous whelp from Alicent Hightower’s cunt will regret the day they were born. They will die screaming. And I’ll save the kinslayer for last.”

He didn’t mean to. The thought was a bleak echo in her mind, unbidden, unwanted. But how could she know? How could she know what was in his heart that day? Sometimes she felt as though she barely knew him at all. And what did it matter if he meant to? Luke was dead, regardless of his intentions. Baela was glaring at her from across the table, reading the struggle on her face and willing her to keep her mouth shut-

“That’s enough,” Rhaenyra snapped, pushing her chair back with a screech. “Joffrey, come. You’re late for your lessons.”

The boy had up until then been transfixed on his stepfather, watching him with large brown eyes and a hard look on his face, an anger Sena had never seen on him before. His mother pulled him up from his chair despite his protestations and ushered him out the door. She then rounded on her husband, who was setting her with a grim look. 

Sena’s hands trembled in her lap.

“Rhaenyra-“

“No,” she said forcefully. “It is none of my business what you do with your girls and how you choose to shape them, Daemon, but by the Gods, I will get my sons through this with some shred of humanity left in them if it fucking kills me.”

She stormed out, and Daemon was left with his daughters, all of whom were determinedly avoiding his gaze. He dipped his head and huffed out a laugh. “We’re at war, girls,” he growled, leaning over the table towards them. “Get used to the idea. How do any of you expect to get anything done if you won’t get your hands dirty?” He lingered over them, willing one of them to be brave enough to look up and meet his eye. When none of them did, he shook his head and stalked from the room.

Sena slowly brought her gaze upwards and caught Baela’s eye. The elder twin looked shaken, but raised an eyebrow. “He’s not wrong, is he?” She breathed.

Rhaena was chewing her lip. “Come, Sena. Let’s get you back to bed.”

Sena, for once, didn’t protest.

-----

The days on Dragonstone seemed to crawl by, as Sena willed her body to heal so she might escape the dark recesses of her mind for a while. Once she was able to get out of and stay out of bed for any length of time, she made herself useful by joining the Queen in her solar and answering some of her correspondence for her, to take some of the pressure off of her. The volume of ravens flying in to Dragonstone had at last proved too much for Maester Gerardys to handle and Sena’s body might be in tatters but she had an able mind, decent penmanship and most importantly, it was not her dominant arm that was in a splint. It was a small mercy, she thought bleakly, as she stared at her sword belt hanging from its hook by her bedroom door one morning. A slightly different fall and she might have never been fit for battle again.

She pushed the thought from her mind, the way she pushed all thoughts of that day away, and finished readying herself. On the way to the Queen’s solar, she paused outside Luke’s bedroom door. She did this every morning. The door was closed and no one had moved any of his possessions yet. Sena rested her head against the oak and pictured the books that he so detested in a dusty pile on his desk, his clothes in disarray on the floor. Muddy training gear and a half-finished secret love letter to Rhaena with crossings-out and ink blots. Or not-so-secret, as Rhaena had always ran to Sena to discuss them with her as soon as she got them. They made Baela balk and make gagging sounds at her, so Rhaena had always come to Sena. And in her own head, Sena would think of Aemond’s letters, feel the ghost of his touch, his lips on hers.

She sighed and pushed herself away from the door. She could not mourn at Luke’s door and think of Aemond. She would not sully her brother’s memory with thoughts of the man who had brought him his painfully early end.

With an announcing knock, Sena let herself into the Queen’s solar. It had become her habit over the weeks to let herself in as she was expected. She regretted it instantly this morning though, as she saw the Queen and Prince Daemon bowed together in deep conversation. She blushed a little, having intruded on a private moment, and curtseyed to them. “Your Grace, my Prince, good morning. Apologies, my Queen, I did not realise you had company.”

“Rise, Sena. It’s quite alright, we were discussing troop movements, nothing more,” the Queen said, smoothing down her skirts. Prince Daemon stood at an angle to the Queen so he could survey his daughter, something glinting in his eye that Sena was not sure she was entirely comfortable with, a letter in his hand. She ignored him and crossed the solar to the small writing desk the servants had set up for her, already stacked with correspondence from the Lords of the Realm swearing fealty to their rightful Queen. Jace had finally returned from the distant North, and he could not have brought better news. The Eyrie and Winterfell had both sworn to defend the claim of Queen Rhaenyra and were raising their banners at this very moment. The Usurper may command the support of the Stormlands and the Westerlands, but the Reach had been slower to declare. House Tyrell with its infant lord and council of regents had proved reluctant to be seen to be following the lead of their banner-house, the Hightowers. It was the noble houses of the Reach that the Queen and Sena were currently focusing on, to see which ones chafed at the overreach of the Hightowers and remembered their oaths of fealty to the young Princess of Dragonstone.

The Riverlands had also been slow to declare, however, and it was that region of the war table that Sena’s father was currently focused on. She was actually surprised to see him still on Dragonstone this morning. “Father,” she said as she set herself down at her desk and reached for her letter opener, pulling an envelope with the seal of House Tarly towards her. In her younger years, she might have bemoaned swapping her sword and the training yard for the little blade and a writing desk, but she could see now that if they were to win this war and put the rightful Queen on the Iron Throne, the fighting would as much be done with the quill as the sword. “I’m surprised to see you still here. Were you not departing to join your host in the Riverlands at daybreak?”

Her father gave her that smirk of his that set her teeth on edge. “As soon as my business with the Queen is finished, daughter. Caraxes is saddled and my men await me where they have made landfall at the mouth of the Trident. We will march on Harrenhal at once.”

Sena’s eyes went to the Queen and caught the downturn of her mouth at the mention of the cursed hall. Now the seat of Lord Larys Strong, the Usurper’s Master of Whisperers, it was the place Ser Harwin, her lover and the true sire of her sons by Ser Laenor had perished in a fire. It had been in circumstances every bit as uncertain as Ser Laenor’s death… and Sena's mother’s. It was something she tried to keep in mind these days, as her new role in the unfolding war demanded of her. It was important to tread lightly and watch her back, as she had no way of knowing which hands were bloodied and with whose blood.

“Speaking of, what was your business with me, husband?” The Queen asked, trying to shirk the dark mood that had descended on her once again at the mention of Harrenhal, another black chapter in her history. Sena knew the Maester had started preparing the Queen sleeping draughts and had noted it had alleviated some of the dark bruising under her eyes, but had done little to ease the tenseness in her shoulders and the dark moods that caught up with her when she least desired them.

Sena might not know what it was to lose a child a sennight after carrying a babe to a funeral pyre - and thank the Gods she did not know that pain - but she knew the feeling of being swamped by the darkness as you began to tire of treading.

“I can leave, come back later, if you need the room?” Sena suggested, fearful it was a matter of sensitivity that need not go past the Queen’s ears yet, but her father shook his head. That wry tilt of his lips was making her stomach churn. What on earth could he have to say that had him looking like that, like an ugly tomcat with a bowl of cream?

“No. Stay. You would hear it soon enough anyways,” he said, and held out the scroll in his hand to the Queen. “From King’s Landing, your Grace. Some of our seeds have borne fruit, at last.”

Sena’s pulse jumped. What news could there be of King’s Landing? Who in King’s Landing was even writing letters to her father right now? Since they’d returned from their ill-fated visit, it had been like the Wall itself had been erected across the gullet of Blackwater Bay. No ships, no letters, no anything drifted on the waves or soared in the sky to them from the capital.

The Queen gave her consort a puzzled look and snatched the letter from his hand. She opened the folded parchment and began to scan it. Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she gripped her midsection as she let the letter fall to the desk. Sena’s stomach lurched. “Daemon,” the Queen breathed, addressing her husband with wide eyes. “What have you done?”

The Prince looked back at her with a sneer on his lips. “I’ve gotten my hands dirty, your Grace,” he said simply.

“What?” Sena questioned sharply, standing up from her desk. She could feel the nausea rising inside of her. “What is it?”

The Queen steadied herself on her desk with one hand, looking faint, still gripping her middle with the other, as if she needed to feel herself breathing to be convinced she was doing it. She was grey in the face, and Daemon was still. Deadly still.

And Sena could finally pinpoint that look on his face when she had walked in. That was how he appeared when he was pleased with himself.

She could not take it any longer, she lunged forwards and swiped the letter from before the Queen, acid climbing from her belly up her throat. The writing was scratchy, unrefined and poorly taught, but she could make it out clear enough.

The deed is done. The usurper’s heir is no more. An eye for an eye.

“An eye for an eye…” Sena read out loud, the words swimming before her eyes as she tried desperately to make sense of them.

“A son for a son,” came her father’s low voice, and Rhaenyra let out an agonised sound as her worst fears were confirmed.

Jaehaerys.

Sena looked up from the parchment, which shook like a leaf in her hand. She met her father’s eyes. Violet. Like hers. “Tell me I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Tell me I- tell me you didn’t-“

“Come now, daughter. Even you should be able to puzzle out the riddle,” he said with a scant smirk in his cruel eyes. Were her eyes that cruel? Did that shade of purple seem so impenetrable, so treacherous on her?

“You bastard,” she breathed. Her knees were shaking, struggling under her weight. She stepped back, gripped the edge of her writing desk, “No. No, not even you- not even you could do that.”

“I can assure you, daughter, I can and I did,” he said, taking a step towards her. She shrunk back from him, leaning her weight on the desk so she did not collapse there and then. “My catspaw took their chance when the so-called Queen was taking her children to visit with the Dowager-“

“Helaena was there?” Sena’s entire body shook. No. No.

Her father nodded, unfeeling, unflinching. “Yes. I’m told she was given the choice between the boy and the babe, though it wasn’t really a choice. Shame the little one will have to grow up knowing his mother did not love him enough to save him.”

“You monster!” Sena barked, her hands gripping the edge of her desk until she was white in her knuckles. The rage rising in her was like a tempest, a hurricane. Like some godly wrath straight out of the Seven Hells. When she blinked, she could see the sweet little boy behind her eyelids, offering out his little hand-carved horse and smiling at her bashfully. She could see Helaena watching him with adoration, Queen Alicent beaming with pride. 

She could see blood.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

“What have you done?” She breathed, drawing closer to her father on shaky feet. “How could you? He was an infant.” She could not draw breath. “What happened to Luke was an accident! A dragon gone rogue. You just murdered a little boy in cold blood.”

The Queen and her consort both looked up at her sharply at that. “Luke-” Rhaenyra choked out.

“An accident?” Daemon laughed coldly. He leered over her, his expression a picture of mad amusement. “Gods, Sena, what poison has my wretch of a nephew been pouring in your ear?” he asked. “You truly think he is some tortured soul? Some poor victim of circumstance? That was no accident.” 

“He is vengeful and lacks restraint, yes, but despite his faults, he is a good man who would never mean to hurt a child,” she hissed. “The same cannot be said for you.”

He brushed her hair from her face with his calloused fingers. The skin he touched felt as though there were living things crawling beneath it. “You’re truly pathetic, aren’t you?” He said with a mean grin. “Is that all it takes to turn you into a blind fool, some weak profession of love so that you’ll let him stick his cock in you?”

She was shaking. She was burning.

He shook his head, smirking and giggling. “I truly don’t know where you get it from. At least your mother had enough backbone to hate me ‘til the bitter end. She had the brains to know I was telling her I loved her just so I could fuck her.”

She spat in his face, catching him square in the eye and he flinched away, wiping at his face with a grunt. “Little bitch,” he growled.

Sena turned on Rhaenyra and she was livid, every inch of her white hot and singing. “Did you know about this? Did you know?” The Queen had tears tracking down her cheeks. She could not seem to move a muscle, let alone answer. “Tell me!” Sena demanded, slamming her hands down on the desk before the Queen.

Rhaenyra flinched and turned a look of pure rage on Sena. Sena wished she had it in her to feel the shame her younger self would have felt at invoking such a reaction. But her younger self, her innocent and gentle self was gone, gone, and her father seemed hellbent on burning out every remnant. “Your sister, your poor, sweet sister who has never shown you and your sons anything but love.” She ducked her head to hold the Queen’s line of vision as Rhaenyra looked away, trying to garner some response from her. “Helaena will not survive this,” Sena’s voice shook as she realised the truth of it.

Her father’s answering laugh was from the depths of hell. “And House Targaryen will be rid of one more halfwit,” he said.

That was it.

That was all she could take.

It wasn’t in the heat of the moment, it wasn’t without thought. She knew exactly what she was doing, exactly where the letter opener lay on her desk as she spun around and reached for it. She flew at her father, her sword arm raised high, and brought the small blade down with every ounce of strength she possessed and pure clarity of thought.

Daemon’s blood spattered onto Sena’s bodice and Rhaenyra let out a gut-wrenching scream. Sena knew that the blade was too small, too blunt to accomplish her means, she knew it. But the look of shock and fear on her father’s face was worth every second of the hell it would rain down on her. He raised one hand and clutched at the blade in his neck, holding it steady in the wound, and brought the back of his other hand across Sena’s face. Hard.

Stars blew across her field of vision, her father’s heavy signet ring causing blood to burst from her lip. The rug on the ground rushed up to greet her. The air was forced from her lungs and she let out a scream as her splinted arm went aflame with pain once more.

The Queen was running from the room, screaming for a maester, a guard, anyone. Sena lay there on the rug for a second, tasting the blood in her mouth, feeling the ragged gasp in her throat and chest as she clawed back her breath. Her father knelt down on the rug beside her, still holding the letter opener steady in his neck, and dragged her up by the neckline of her dress with his spare hand. He was so close to her she could smell the sourness of wine on his breath. “For the blood we share,” he breathed, his voice ragged from the effort, “we’re going to pretend that was a clumsy accident. Like the traitor you whore yourself out for.” He shoved her back down to the ground, and fresh pain burst through her arm.

Her father staggered to his feet. Sena pressed her forehead into the rug and laughed coldly, turning her head to take in the man who had sired her, pale and shaking, his own blood sprayed across her. “What is blood to you?” She asked. She herself was surprised at the humour in her voice, the mad grin on her face. “You’re already a kinslayer, father. Accursed. What’s one more?” She pushed herself up to her knees and held her arms out in surrender. “Quickly. While no one can stop you,” she urged him, eyeing the blade in his neck.

Was he mad enough to do it? Pull the blade free from his neck and greatly damage his own chance at living, just to put an end to her? The daughter he had never wanted nor loved, sired on the wife he despised. He could do it. He was stronger than her, bigger, could overpower her easily and do it, even with the letter opener. He could end it all. He just needed to pull the knife free, let his own blood flow.

He leaned over her, so close they were nose to nose, brow to brow. “I will end you,” he promised her in a ragged voice. “Not yet. That would be too easy. Not until your precious halfwit has thrown herself from the highest window in Maegor’s Holdfast. Not until I finish what Lucerys started, and your lover is a feast for carrion crows,” he breathed, stroking her cheek with a bloodied thumb. “But then… I made you. And I will end you. I promise you that, Sena. Here and now.”

taglist (dm/ask/reply to be added): @stargaryenx @trap-house-homiecide

[justlarkin]

Oscar refers to MC as his Salome in his voice lines. Salome is a figure from the Bible involved in the execution of John the Prophet and the main character of Oscar Wilde's play based on said event called Salome.

"I love you more than anyone in the world, my Salome. I am, of course, jesting. But may I still kiss your hand? *(Sigh)* You don't need to answer that with words."

"Welcome, my Salome, my up-and-coming lead actor. What would you like among these gathering talks of Tokyo? I'm happy to be paid in new conversation topics."

Salome is seen as a minor figure who is only doing her mother's bidding in the Bible, but is rewritten as a femme fatale in Oscar Wilde's version. She's young and beautiful, but she's also obsessive, spoiled, and vengeful. She seduces men to get what she wants, she refuses to take no for an answer, she drives a man to suicide and doesn't even react, and she orders that a man be beheaded, so she can finally have him.

So funny throwaway name or does Oscar actually liken MC to Salome in some way? MC does unintentionally fall into the femme fatale category since everyone's obsession over them causes chaos and destruction, but do they get the same reaction out of him? Or is he their Jochanaan? 🤔

(adding the story below involves making out with a decapitated head)

"At the beginning of the play, a drunken banquet is being held by King Herod and Queen Herodias. A young, Syrian captain, Narraboth, admires the young, beautiful princess, Salome, from his place on the terrace, earning a warning from King Herod's page that something bad might happen if he doesn't stop looking at her. Narraboth unfortunately ignores this warning. Jochanaan can be heard from a nearby cistern he's imprisoned, cursing Queen Herodias for her sinful ways, deeming her an incestuous sinner for marrying her brother-in-law after the death of her husband.

Salome decides to sneak away from the banquet to escape the leering gaze of her step-father and his entourage, and ends up on the terrace with Narraboth and the others. Narraboth comments on Salome's beauty, but is ignored by her. Jochanaan can be heard yelling again, which peaks Salome's interest. She asks the guards to let her see Jochanaan, but they refuse. Narraboth eventually relents after Salome offers to look at him and to bring him a flower in exchange for doing this.

Salome is both terrified and entranced by Jochanaan's appearance. She begs him to let her touch his hair, then his skin, and finally his lips. Knowing who her mother is, Jochanaan rejects her advances, refusing to even look at her and referring to her as the daughter of Sodom and Babylon. Narraboth tries to dissuade her from pursuing another man, but she completely ignores him once again. Unable to bear the fact that Salome desired another man, Narraboth stabs himself to death right beside her. Too consumed by her obsession, Salome doesn't even notice Narraboth die. She continues to beg to kiss Jochanaan on his lips, ignoring any rejection. She insists that she WILL kiss Jochanaan's lips no matter what. Jochanaan curses Salome and tells her to seek God before returning to the cistern. 

King Herod appears, looking for Salome as Queen Herodias angrily follows him, trying to get him to return to the banquet and complaining at him for looking at her daughter in such a lustful manner. He then slips in Narraboth’s blood, causing him to briefly panic and hallucinate. Queen Herodias asks him to go back inside with her, but King Herod’s is too focused on his step-daughter. Jochanaan resumes cursing Queen Herodias within the cistern, upsetting her, but King Herod refuses to punish the prophet over this.

King Herod asks Salome to join him for a drink and meal, but she rejects his advances, insisting that she is neither hungry nor thirsty. King Herold then begs her to dance for him. Salome refuses at first, but agrees after he promises to give her anything she wants, even if it were half of the kingdom. She ignores her mother's protests and dances seductively for her step-father. Afterwards, the delighted king wants to know what reward she would like, and she innocently asks for the head of Jochanaan on a silver platter. Herod, horrified by this, refuses and offers other rewards, but Salome insists on receiving Jochanaan's head.

King Herod finally gives in and sends the executioner to retrieve her reward. As Salome impatiently waits, she hears the clattering of a sword from the cistern and believes the executioner is hesitating, sending her into hysterics, demanding that her step-father send someone else to do it. But the executioner eventually returns with the prophet’s head and brings it to her. Salome addresses Jochanaan's decapitated head as if he were still alive and finally kisses his lips as she said she would. King Herod orders that everyone turn off all the lights, so he won't have to witness the disturbing sight, but the moonlight once again illuminates Salome and the decapitated head. Horrified and disgusted, King Herod orders his soldiers to kill her. They proceed to surround Salome and crush her to death with their shields."

[richmond-rex]

Hi, I've only recently gotten interested in the Wars of the Roses and since I am unable to find an unbiased analysis, I wanted to ask: what do you think of Eleanor Talbot and the idea that she was allegedly married to Edward IV?

The more I research the claim, the more incredulous I get that it's often taken so seriously, particularly by Ricardian circles. I'm very skeptical about the fact that this supposed marriage was kept secret for ... 19 years? Even more? Logically, it is not possible for a piece of information that explosive and nationally relevant to stay under lock and key for that long, especially considering Edward's political enemies. I've read some pieces on Eleanor and the most any of them can do is theorize that she may have been romantically involved with Edward at some point before May 1464. But a potential affair hardly means marriage; as far as I can tell, Edward IV appears to have had affairs with lots of women, but Elizabeth Woodville was clearly the one he wanted as his wife and queen, and obviously the only one who was acknowledged and honored as such. From what I can make out, I don't think he would have had that much difficulty getting out of the marriage if he particularly wanted to: considering it was very private, his public acknowledgement of it was crucial, and his word would have triumphed whatever Elizabeth or her family would say; people gathering at Reading to find a way to end it or persuade him to end it did not amount to anything; Wake's witchcraft allegations against Jacquetta directly relating to their marriage which were cleared by Edward's council; even the fact that Elizabeth Woodville did not produce a son until 7 years after she became queen. He very clearly wanted to remain married to her even though he did have potential routes out of it. I've also observed that people tend to link the circumstances of his marriage to Elizabeth and alleged marriage to Eleanor and call it a pattern of behavior, without considering the fact that once again, being involved with someone doesn't automatically mean marriage, and that it's very possibly a deliberately constructed pattern/parallel by the people making the allegations.

And it seems awfully, almost embarrassingly convenient that this came up after both parties were dead, when Richard was actively slandering his brother's licentousness, and when he wanted to usurp the throne from his 12 year old nephew when neither he (Edward V) nor his mother (Elizabeth Woodville) were in a position to assert themselves.

Of course, we'll never truly know for sure but ... what do you think?

Hi! To get straight to the point, there is simply no evidence that Edward IV had been married to anyone other than Elizabeth Woodville. You'd think ricardians would be more careful about this claim since they make such a big deal out of the lack of material proof linking Richard to the murder of the princes (actually king and prince) in the Tower, but no. Lack of evidence doesn't work both ways in this case, apparently.

As many historians have pointed out, parliament, which ultimately ruled that Edward IV had committed bigamy and invalidated his marriage with Elizabeth Woodville, simply did that on the grounds that it was ‘the common opinion of the people and the public voice and fame is throughout the land’. Although parliament could legislate over the succession of the crown, it had no jurisdiction to invalidate anyone's marriage, since only the Church had authority over those matters at that time. If there were any proof that Edward IV had really been married to Eleanor Talbot/Butler, Richard and his supporters would have called an ecclesiastical court made exclusively of prelates and representatives of the pope to rule over that case based on canon law, as that was the Church's prerogative since the 12th century. A. J. Pollard made a very apt observation about this:

Had Richard lll been the deeply troubled, honourable and honest man we are asked to believe him to be he would surely have followed the course of a properly constituted investigation.

Ruth Mazo Karras has a great book called Unmarriages: Women, Men and Sexual Unions in the Middle Ages where she presents many cases of marriages judged by the church to have been clandestine or invalid and actually explains how the Church came to have a monopoly on the legislation of marriages. Jennifer Ward cites an example of an illegal marriage claim taken to the Pope and casts light on how the investigation of an ecclesiastical court should have proceeded in face of the pre-contract allegations made by Richard and his supporters:

This issue of legitimacy and therefore of inheritance was at the heart of the best-known twelfth-century case, concerning Richard de Anesty, dating from 1158-63. Richard claimed to be the heir of his uncle, William de Sackville, on the grounds that William's only child, Mabel de Francheville, was illegitimate. If Mabel had been legitimate, she would probably have inherited her father's land. Richard alleged that William had broken his marriage contract with Albereda de Tresgoz and married Mabel's mother, Adelicia, daughter of Amfrid the sheriff. William and Albereda were said to have expressed present consent, and, according to Richard's account, Albereda asserted that she was William's lawful wife at his wedding to Adelicia, but failed to be heard because of the crowd and because William turned a deaf ear. She was later granted a decree by the bishop of Winchester and Pope Innocent II that William should return to her as her husband. Mabel argued, however, that the marriage contract with Albereda only amounted to betrothal, and that both Albereda and William had agreed to end it; the relationship had never been consummated and William had returned Albereda's dowry. William and Adelicia's marriage had been carried out in the face of the church, and Albereda's father had been present at the wedding feast. The annulment of the marriage by the bishop was null and void. For Alexander III the annulment was the crucial issue, and Mabel was adjudged illegitimate.

We can make a few observations about this case. First, notice how William's alleged first wife, Albereda, sought the Bishop of Winchester then the Pope himself to protest against William's second marriage and have it annulled. Why wouldn't Eleanor Talbot, the daughter of the Earl Shrewsbury and NIECE of the Earl of Warwick, who had such influence over Edward IV's early reign, be silent about Edward IV's second marriage? It's not like she was a helpless nobody who wouldn't have anyone to vouch for her case in the papal court. Moreover, according to a Burgundian report about the revelation of Edward and Elizabeth's marriage, many dissatisfied lords tried to come up with means to annul the marriage, as anon cited in this ask. Knowing this, and having the possibility to be backed by number #1 dissatisfied noble in the kingdom, Warwick, why wouldn't Eleanor have spoken against Edward and Elizabeth's union at that time?

Second observation: notice how both parties concerning the legitimacy of the marriage of William and Adelicia, namely Richard and his cousin Mabel, had to testify in front of the court and produce witnesses, documents and/or reports that attested to their claim that the marriage was valid or invalid. There was never anything even remotely close to this in the case concerning Edward IV's marriage. Where was the appeal to the Pope? Where were the witnesses of Edward IV's first marriage testifying in a clerical court? In fact, we don't even actually know for sure who claimed to be witness to Edward IV's alleged first marriage. The document approving Richard's rule, Titulus Regius, only claimed that it was 'the common opinion of the people and the public voice and fame' but never actually cited anyone as an actual witness to the alleged first marriage of the king.

No contemporary English source gives the name of a witness. Robert Stillington, Bishop of Bath and Wells, is only cited as the author of the bigamy claim and the only witness of the alleged first marriage in a French chronicle by Philippe de Commynes, a servant of King Louis XI. Commynes goes as far as to call him 'ce mauvais evesque', that is, 'this evil bishop'. That Commynes' claim is plausible comes from the fact that one of Henry VII's first actions after Bosworth was to order Bishop Stillington's arrest. If we accept that Stillington had helped Richard by concocting the pre-contract claim—and ricardians must accept it otherwise there's simply no name to validate their theory—the picture we're left with is not pretty. One, Bishop Stillington had previously been imprisoned by Edward IV in 1478 so Stillington was hardly an unbiased witness against Edward IV.

Two, in 1472 whilst he was still Edward IV's Chancellor, an office Stillington exercised up until 1473, he took part in a ceremony recognising the legitimacy of Edward Prince of Wales as Edward IV's heir. Along with the Archbishop of Canterbury and eight other 'Lords Spiritual' (that is, prelates) and thirty-six 'Lords Temporal' (that is, noblemen) Stillington solemnly swore to Prince Edward that

that in case hereafter it happen You, by God’s disposition, to outlive our said Sovereign Lord, I shall then take and accept You for true, very, and righteous King of England, &tc. And faith and truth to you shall bear.

If Bishop took part in that ceremony knowing the boy was illegitimate, he should have acted so as to either speak against it (admittedly, difficult to do), decline to take part in the ceremony by faking an illness or some other excuse (possible), or seek ways to legalise the king's current marriage by way of appeal to the papal courts, something people in irregular marriage situations did all the time. See to what lengths John of Gaunt went to have his Beaufort children legitimised. It seems scarcely possible that Edward IV, who was careful enough to orchestrate ceremonies to invest his son Edward as England's heir and recognise his authority over charters and conciliar bodies, would have left his heir as vulnerable to the law as ricardians claim he did.

Another point to the whole pre-contract story, is that it seems to have been only a later addition to the reasons Richard 'was offered' the crown. According to Mancini, Richard's affiliates' first idea was to claim Edward IV was a bastard (and his children unable to rule consequently). Ricardians claim Mancini was a foreigner and simply misunderstood the terms that were preached at St Paul's Cross, but The London Chronicler also believed that the first version that was preached was that Edward IV himself was illegitimate. Mancini tells us that the claim was not well received by the audience, so it makes sense that Richard's supporters would have quickly dropped it. The claim is lightly touched upon in the parliamentary act approving Richard's rule in the observation that Richard was his father's undoubted heir and the only one born in England. It alludes, of course, to the fact that Edward IV was born in France and George of Clarence in Ireland, as if subtly casting doubts about their legitimacy.

Lastly, even if the pre-contract story was true, it still by no means should be a definite reason to make Edward V unable to succeed his father. As Horspool has pointed out, solutions to that problem included 'securing a retrospective canonical or papal judgement of the invalidity of the pre-contract; an Act of Parliament legitimizing the children of Edward and Elizabeth Woodville’s marriage, or [...] proceeding to the coronation of Edward V, which would legitimize him by making him the Lord’s anointed'. Hypothetically, if parliament was competent to declare Edward V illegitimate enough to overrule an ecclesiastical court, it was equally competent to declare the boy legitimate. In face of all these possibilities to legitimise his brother's heir, Pollard has the correct assessment of the situation:

The truth of the matter is that Richard III did not want Edward V to be legitimate because he did not want him to be king.

Considering Richard made no effort to sustain his nephews' right to rule, as had been asked of him in his condition as Lord PROTECTOR, the pre-contract allegation must be seen in that light: a poorly sustained, entirely unevidenced excuse to justify an act of usurpation.

[greypetrel]

✨Self-Rec Tag Game ✨

Thank you very much @shivunin! ✨✨✨

Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made. e.g.: 1. Something you absolutely adore 2. Something that was challenging to create 3. Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably) 4. Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.) 5. Something you want other people to see

Soooo... I'm actually one of those people who can't just tell you ONE favourite thing. If you ask me about my favourite movie, I'll shorten the list to ten and will cry because I left something I love outside. Oops, I guess.

And I also really love colour coordination. 🌈

1. Something I absolutely adore.

I don't absolutely adore any of my works ahahahahahahah.

Beside some self-deprecation, I'm still very please with this fanart of Aisling and Dorian looking outside the window.

I know you don't appreciate much Crossovers, Mo and way too many people around, but the chance to put together two things I love... I would never tackle fanfiction if I didn't have something mine to put it (that's why I started writing fic with Dragon Age, which is based on the "Create your own character" basic), so this was my chance at tackling Tolkien lore which I absolutely adore and has been part of my life ever since I was a little bean.

There's also a fic which is basically LOTR... But with Dragon Age Characters (taking advantage of the fact that in the book nothing much is seen of Mordor... I slipped everyone there and I promise it makes more sense x°D)

2. Something that was challenging to create

Everything concerning Raina, which you can now find in this convenient folder I'll fill little by little on AO3.

I... Accidentally tackled too many things that strikes close to home with her, and writing her is basically something similar to a therapy session. The current thing I'm working on is proving difficult.

But I'll say this official portrait of her, just for the fact that I tried a new way of colouring (thanks to @ndostairlyrium forever and ever for the tips and tricks) and everything was new and challenging. The amount of times I cursed myself for putting a background! xD

3. Something that makes you laugh

You see, Mo, I am very unable to choose just one thing. If you ask me what's my favourite movie, I can shorten my list to 10. I'll give you three.

The Bi Cullen series. I should do another one, I just have to finish it, but this is close to my heart. Because bi panic and science bros.

This little exploration in the Mythal Temple, full with very necessary Indiana Jones and Emperor's New Groove quotes.

And last but not least, the one and only Haunting Queen, Doris the Rage Demon who lives in Cullen and Aisling's stove and is deeply in love with Cullen... And also very jealous. It's jealousy, it's not Aisling that doesn't know how to cook.

4. Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.)

Ok, for this I have 2:

Home Was Never on the Ground aka the Monster fic. It's my first attempt at fanfiction and the first prose I had written in YEARS. I thought of an anthology of moments missed in game, or expansions of scenes I liked. I am honestly surprised by the amount of hits it got and even if I see flaws, I like my baby.

One for the Road. Aka. Fenris/Lavellan 2 chapter fic. I wrote it as a divertissement, it ended up to be extra angsty... And I sincerely thought I had totally misinterpreted Fenris here. I remember being so nervous when posting it that I actually considered keeping it for myself. And instead, it was received well?

5. Something you want other people to see

On this I'm more sure! (well.)

My little joy is the DadWolf AU which you can find here. Basically, a Modern AU following the events of DA2 and Inquisition... With something changed.

Namely, Solas woke up 30 years before, and he and Varric were roommates. And they co-parent my Inquisitor, Aisling, and Dorian who are actually science bros. It's something that brings me joy in doing, there's nothing written as per yet save some prompts but it will be!

Also one fanart I'm very very attached to is this one which was done in collaboration with @ndostairlyrium (I drew it, she coloured it), and which now guards me from my wall when I work in my studio.

In case you all were still wondering yes, I'm wordy. I know it's a surprise.

I reckon that I forgot to tag, OOPS. @rosella-writes @oxygenforthewicked @cullenvhenan @cao-the-dreamer @transprincecaspian and for the rest I think everyone was already tagged...? Send me a word if you were not and would like to!

[ooo-yeah-baby]

hello again! <3 i was hoping to request a part 2 for Lovely :) perhaps reader and Moody get married before leaving Avonlea and they both go to Queen’s College together and share a bedroom at the boardinghouse. perhaps Moody really wants to start building their family and tries to convince reader to, but she’s insisting on waiting. he’s always all over her (forced kissing, touching, cuddling, etc) and she gets annoyed but remembers they’re married for life so she’ll have to get used to it, and warms up to him. honestly you can write whatever you’d like! i absolutely LOVE the first part and it gets better every time i re-read it :) thanks again!

Lovely, pt 2

Yandere Moody Spurgeon x Reader

I only write sfw, feel free to send requests!! Noncon touching, kissing, etc. long, forced marriage, probably more I should add but literally what? Thank you for the request!! I stole the picture from Pinterest, gifs weren't loading lol

The wedding ceremony was just as Moody had expected it, almost. Although Y/Ns dress was simpler than the one from his vision, and there was no tint of blush covering her cheeks, his own were beat red, she still looked as beautiful as he had imagined.  

Actually, more beautiful. He couldn't've possibly imagined the way his breath would hitch as she approached him. 

He could tell she was forcing her smile as family and friends waved her down the aisle. And it would have been impossible for him to not notice the way her lips struggled not to frown when she was asked if she would take him. 

And the kiss felt less than ideal to Moody. It was completely one sided. He brought her near, closing his eyes and leaning in, pressing his lips against one's pressed straight. 

The ceremony was planned to be the week before the two moved to the Queens College dormitory. It was usually forbidden for ladies to share rooms with gentlemen but with the two being wed and the parents pressure they allowed the two to board together. 

The first night in the small room together was awkward and an explosion of emotions. The two sat on the edges of their two different beds, quietly, until Moody finally croaked up something. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N." 

"Are you really, Moody?" Y/N asked, crossing her leg over the other and folding her arms. "It doesn't seem like you're sorry. It seems like you're enjoying this." 

Moody sighed.

"No... I'm not sorry. But what else am I supposed to say?" He stood and stepped over to Y/N, kneeling down to her. "I don't want you to hate me." His hands reached for hers but she pulled them back. 

"Then you should have stopped this from happening!" She pushed her legs onto the bed and scooted back from Moody, curling them to her chest. "I had no choice! You had the power to stop it; I know you did." A tear fell from Y/Ns eye and before she could wipe it away herself Moody had swiped it with his thumb. Y/N looked back at him, seeing the worry on his face. "I do not hate you Moody, but I do not want to live like this." Her head fell to her knees. 

While Moody was worried for Y/N, his heart and mind couldn't help but linger on the what was almost the last thing she said. She did not hate him. 

Hate was hard to come back from but being just outside of hate could be an easy fix. He could still catch her eye and make her love him as he loved her. 

Moody moved to sit on the bed and wrapped his arms around the crying woman in hopes to comfort her, and even though Y/N wanted him as far as possible, his embrace did aid in making her calm down. 

The next few weeks were quiet between the two. Y/N would come back to the dorm late, having spent much of her day avoiding going back to the dorm. She'd spend her days in the library or at the girls dorm house, trying so hard to avoid her husband. 

When she would come home, Moody would welcome her with a kiss to the cheek. As much as he wanted to kiss her on the lips, she would push him away if he tried. Kissing her cheek was far easier for him, and she allowed it. 

Since he was unable to see Y/N during the day Moody thought he'd surprise her when she got home by pushing the beds together. Obviously it was more for him than for her but in his excited haste he forgot that Y/N had completely different feelings compared to him. 

She came home to see his smirking face standing outside the door. 

"Welcome home, my love." He pulled her in close and planted a kiss to her cheek, then another, then another, confusing his already tired wife. He moved and held the door open for her, presenting the newly enlarged bed in the center of the farthest wall, with the bedside table placed on the side that had been where Y/N had once slept. 

She stood in the middle of the room, mouth agape. 

"Moody, what is this?" 

"It's our bed. Married couples should share a bed." He grabbed her hand as he approached her from behind, wrapping his other arm around her waist in a back hug. 

"Moody, please-"

"I'm not putting it back the way it was." His voice was stern and his grip around her waist got just a little bit tighter. "You can spend all day avoiding me but when you come home at least pretend like you want to be near me."

"Moody I-" She tried to speak but he cut her off again. 

"You said you don't hate me so please act like it." He buried his head into the curve between her shoulder and neck. 

Instead of trying to respond this time Y/N just moved her free hand to pat Moodys hair. 

To Moodys liking, Y/N was becoming more and more complacent. 

She no longer cringed at his forced affections and as long as she was asleep she would allow him to cuddle into her as they slept. 

Moody began finding her after classes instead of waiting for her to come home. To his surprise she wouldn't hide from him. 

As the two reached their 3rd year in Queens College Moody began to think of their life after school. The next step in a marriage should be children, and Moody had always wanted a family. A big one too. Moody was good with children, having a younger sister of his own. He wanted to have little Moody and Y/Ns running around the home they build together. 

Little boys with Y/Ns hair and Moodys eyes, busy helping with the labor. Little girls with Moodys hair and Y/Ns nose baking treats alongside their mother. And Moody would teach all of them to play the Banjo, and Y/N would hum them to bed each night. There would be rambunctious dinners as a family. Moody would try to get hus children to become best friends with Charlie's and of course they'd also become best friends with Diane's and Anne's and all of Y/Ns friends children. Y/N and Moody would have short weekends to themselves while the children stayed at their grandparents, ending in some kind of warm welcoming back at the weekends end. And of course he hoped they could be taught by Ms. Stacy as he and Y/N had been. 

He fell in love with the idea of having children. It was only right. He had conjured such a vivid image of a happy life with them. He needed them, just as he had needed Y/N. 

But how could he simply bring it up? He didn't want to push her, who had still be standoff-ish. She still treated him as more of a friend than a husband and of course it bugged him but he couldn't bare to go back to the way things were at the beginning. At least she had began to smile at him. 

So Moody tried to give her simple little hints. Maybe he could subliminally trick her into wanting them as much as he wanted them, although that'd be very difficult. He'd mention reading something about children, learning something abt children in class, seeing children, asking her friends to bring it up, anything he could. He would even try whispering his daydream into her ear when he was sure she was asleep, in hopes to make her dream of having them. 

Of course his efforts worked somewhat but not in any way he intended or could notice. Y/N had of course began thinking of the idea, but in a more adversed way. 

She didn't want children. She still didn't want the marriage she was apart of so why would she want children? 

But when Moody came to her with his new wish she knew the world, the gods, everything was working against her. 

"Y/N. I would like to have children." Her kneeled by her feet as she sat on the bed. "Not now, seeing as we are still in school, but I want to have them someday." He held her hands in her lap and layed his chin on her knee. 

"Moody." Y/N sighed, trying to sound stern. "I don't want children." 

"Please!" He whined. "Just think about it!" He squeezed her hands gently. "Theres still a year and a half until we move home again and you can never speak for what the future holds." He kissed her knuckles than looked up into her eyes. "I promise you won't have to lift a finger and I will take care of everything! I love you Y/N! Just.. please." 

Y/N, becoming weak to Moodys wants and begging, nodded her head. 

"I suppose I can think it over, Moody." She said. 

Moody jumped up in joy. He thought it'd take all year, probably more to convince her but it was so much easier. He felt as light as air. It wasn't a yes, but it was not a no. 

Y/N on the other hand felt sick. After all these years Moody still hadn't given up on the marriage. Y/N had to start giving in eventually. She knew he wasn't going to give up in winning her over. Perhaps it was best to just give in at this point. Perhaps she could become happy in this state, in this life; as his wife. 

[nushy]

𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊. 𝕴'𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘.

pairing: Morpheus x f!reader

warnings: angst, breaking up, maybe some curse words, other than that nothing too much.

summary: you've had enough of Dream's moody behavior so you leave him to think about your relationship. He doesn't agree with you tho.

word count: 1.2K

--- --- ---

"I can't do this anymore, Lucienne." you let out a sigh and put down the book you were reading. The librarian looked at you through her round glasses.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, you just started reading the book." she said with serious tone.

"I'm not talking about the book. I'm talking about Morpheus. The last few days have been terrible. More than usual." you stopped, waiting for some reaction from Lucienne, but she was just staring at you, waiting for more explanation. "I know that's the normal Morpheus, dark and gloomy, but... I expected that when he said that I would be his queen, that maybe, he would trust me more or at least let me help him when he needs help. But, no, his big ego won't let him even tell me what's wrong. And last night he acted like he is my boss, not my spouse." you stopped, taking a deep breath.

"It's been hard few years for him, you know." Lucienne started slowly, but you've heard that million times.

"I know and I want to help him, to ease him, if not with his duties, at least he can speak to me, tell me his troubles, but no, I am just a trophy, not an equal being." you knew you sounded stupid, but you've had enough of his shitty behavior and you needed time to think. "So I will be leaving the Dreaming for a little while. Let him think on his own, see if he's better without me." Lucienne wasn't a creature of emotions, so she just nodded. What's more, she knew she would not be able to change your mind - after all she was well aware of Dream's lack of tact and how unable he was to show emotions.

So, without much thinking, you left the Dreaming, only leaving a note that Lucienne had to give to Morpheus.

...

The next few days went fast, but the nights were the problem - you could feel his presence the whole time - your only salvation was the fact that he has taught you how you could "close" your dreams, making them your own little bubble. Still, he was always there, at the corner of your eyes, only he could not speak to you.

Of course he, being his usual obsessive self, found other ways to reach out to you - your friends. They were constantly complaining about a dark, mystery man lurking in their dreams, asking about you, begging them to talk to you. That wasn't helping at all - it was, in fact, making you even angrier. You thought that when you banned him from your dreams, he would come to you in the Waking world - no, he did not, he preferred to worry your friends. So you kept him away from you for as long as you could (even though you were sure that if he wanted, he could break you barriers and come to you with ease).

...

One day you were sitting on a lonely bench at the park when a familiar figure approached you. Death sat next to you, her usual soft smile on her face.

"Hello, little one." she spoke lightly.

"Hello, Death." you looked at her, smiling. You were happy to see her, you liked her as she was sweet and helped you with your relationship with her brother. "Did he send you?"

"No, I came on my own but it is because of him. He's not good, you know." she was still smiling, but this time there was something else to the smile, a bit of sadness.

"Yeah, I can guess. But I'm not fine either. I don't want to do it all about me, but... you know him. I thought it would get easier, that he'd change, he'd learn to speak with me, to share his troubles. It's like I am just a part of his palace, a thing."

"You know..." Death started slowly, thinking through every word. "His love life wasn't easy. Some would say that he is cursed, no relationship of his ended on good conditions or with good memories. Maybe Calliope, but there were other troubles with her. So this whole thing, with you, it's new for him. And he was worried that he would do something bad, he'd hurt you. I am not saying he didn't. What I am saying is, he really needs time, he is Endless and time for him is different than time for you. But please, don't give up on him, he needs you, he needs the love you can give him, all of it. My brother is not perfect, but he deserves happiness and when I first saw how he was looking at you... I know his happiness is you." you could feel the tears building in your eyes, so you looked at your shoes, because you didn't want to be seen so vulnerable. Death got up and said one final things before leaving. "I know you love him too, little one."

...

That night you finally removed the barriers, standing at the center of the room you were dreaming. You saw a movement in one of the corners and two gleaming eyes in the shadows.

"Morpheus..." you started but suddenly he was in front of you and what shocked you the most were his bloodshot eyes filled with tears. You have never seen him cry, you didn't know he could actually.

"Please, forgive me, love. I treated you with disrespect, my queen." his voice raspier than ever, heavy with sorrow. Your heart broke as you saw the pain you made him feel. You placed your palm on his cheek, caressing the soft skin. The moment you saw him, you knew you couldn't be mad at him, you loved him more than anything in this world or any other world for that matter.

"Morpheus, I should apologize for leaving." you tried to speak, but he quickly shushed you.

"No, love, my behavior was not suitable for a queen. No King should ever do this to his beloved one. Forgive me." he pleaded but you didn't need anything more as you were already kissing him. Suddenly everything around you spun and you were in his throne room. He was keeping you close to him, making sure you would never leave his side again. "You are my queen, my love, my life. You are mine." he looked you in the eyes, his dark and full of love. It was as if you were seeing him for the first time - how perfect his face looked - his jawline, his soft lips, messy hair. There was only one thing you could say:

"I love you." He smiled, kissing you again but this time it was a deep, hungry kiss.

"Now..." he started while you were taking a breath. "I should show you how much I'm sorry and how the King of Dreams should treat his Queen." and again, you magically moved, this time to his bed, his cold silk sheets wrapping around you. "This is where you belong, love. Mine. And I'm all yours - now and forever." But you weren't listening as you were drowning in his eyes, full of lust and love. All for you.