#i know how i want the girl to be in lurker's eyes but like. i still have no design for her

[skyauroka]

🌼lurky??? lurky have fears???

Everyone does,,,,,so duh

• Describe one of your OC's worst nightmares.

Describe?? Oh I will describe even better

I WILL WRITE !!!!!! I HAD SURGE OF MOTIVATION!!! I COULD HAVE NOT JUST DESCRIBED IT WITH SIMPLE WORDS!!! I NEEDED ACTION!!!!! not drawing shit this time tho

Tw: Blood,,,gore ? I mean head went cut off that counts at the end tho

She's back again.

The ground below her is cold, it's winter. Days become shorter and night soon dawns.

In her horrible, putrid shared body she scratches at her skin, feeling the outside layer moving along with her dark substance that's keeping them both alive. Her hands eventually reach her neck and she shivers slightly as she remembers that she needs to breathe.

A voice calls out to her, a name that isn't hers. Yet a name that she found so right when it came to her voice.

Once the girl comes close, she smiles and laughs at her. Telling her that she wore way too light clothing for this kind of weather.

She almost felt offended, as the clothes she wore were her own personal choice after the girl in front of her begged her to wear something new. But noted that the people from this area seemed to wear heavier clothing when it snowed heavily.

Smoke came out of the girl's mouth when she breathed out. And when she tried to do the same, only a faint sound came out.

Another flaw of her body. She sighed, she should probably avoid this winter season. But the girl in front of her laughed once again, and teased her for it.

This was their routine. And Lurker liked it.

So how did it end up like this?

Her body trembles like a machine.

A useless bloodied head is on the ground, staining the grass and what's left of the snow with it's blood.

The girl has always known what she was, why was she still trying to hide after all this time?

The girl.

The girl that she saw each day grabbed her horrible, horrible hands that were threatening to turn into daggers.

"Please." she begged in a broken, low voice.

"I'm sick of this, I know you can!"

She kept staring at her hands. Two lifeless purple eyes that once showed no emotion were now wide open, and Lurker thinks it's fear.

"I've done enough research, I know who made you like this, I know how you were made like this!" She moved Lurker's hands right to her chest. The trembling visibly moving to her arms once her palms were pressed onto her body.

Her hands were melting, they were getting attached to the girl's clothes.

"Wouldn't it be better if I just never aged? This way we'll always be together. We- we won't have to always find each other again!"

Her name no longer felt right. it stung. It stung, it stung and she didn't know how she felt that.

she's not supposed to feel.

"Didn't you wish we could be friends forever?"

She finally looked up, and regretted it soon after, recoiling almost instantly the moment she saw the girls face.

"I'm sick of my life, Lurker.. I'm sick of having to be reborn everytime"

"No..no. That's not how it works- its-"

"You won't disappoint me, right?"

The girl's hand pressed Lurker's own into her chest more. it was merging. Lines of darkness that resembled a bundle of veins slowly started making its way all around the girl.

"You wouldn't dare to make your only friend sad, would you Lurker?"

It continued further.

it was reaching her neck.

it was engulfing her.

"Let me become one of you."

Her free arm turned liquid for a split second to quickly morph into a blade and in one swift motion she cut her head off.

As the body fell, she made way to the girl's decapitated head and stabbed it, again. again. and again.

She kept on stabbing it until she could only see the dark blood on her whole face.

Until she couldn't see her eyes.

Until she could no longer recognize the skin of the bloody piece of flesh that sat on the ground in front of her feet.

Her arm slowly morphed back into normal, the remaining blood getting wiped off instantly.

The ground was warm. Winter ended. Days were no longer gonna be shorter and the sun would've been the first one to see her work of art.

And she was sure she felt fear, because she knew she'd see the girl again in a few years.

Freaks of nature always seem to levitate to one another like magnets, after all.

[phoneuserhana333]

what about neighbor!ellie? — headcanons

miscellaneous neighbor!ellie thoughts while i brainstorm. enjoy <3

• i imagine ellie and you are neighbors in a huge apartment complex, you live below her and she has a balcony where she smokes weed like every day

• ellie is the type of neighbor to romanticize interactions she has with you; unlike abby, who has a clear dislike towards her neighbor, ellie will put up with anything you do. you could blow up the apartment complex and she’d call dina and be like “lol guess what my cute neighbor just did? :’D”

• orders sooooo much fast food. she can’t help it! she gets munchies whenever she smokes. if you bring her a warm, homemade meal she will MELT !!! it feeds into her wifing you up fantasy where you cook and she goes to her 9-5 to provide for u. horribly cheesy. someone help her

• her apartment is full of posters. bands, animals she thinks are cool, her favorite dinosaurs. her sheets are a plain forest green, she leaves dirty plates everywhere.

• she enjoys a good weighted blanket, funny mugs, those ugly grandpa slippers (iykyk), dino nuggets. always stocked up on sweets. never stocked up on period products (she just forgets, would cry if you brought her a lil basket of period products and sweets)

• lurks. a serial lurker. wants to know if your house appliances need fixing (if they do, she’s swooping in with a toolbox she ‘borrowed’ from joel to save the day), wants to see what you like, basically she’s looking for an excuse to start a conversation with you

• fails to start a conversation every single time. she ends up leaving her phone number under your doormat, praying you’d find it. surprisingly, it took you a few days to find it and you texted her.

• neighbor!ellie is defo the type to be all bark and no bite, she’ll send you flirty messages HOURLY, and then when she hears your flustered squeal through the thin walls she’ll tease you even more.

• but when she sees you in the hallways, or god forbid, the elevator? she’s a stuttering, blushing mess of dodgy eyes and awkward laughs. the close proximity makes her nervous, the smell of your perfume and how warm you are might be too much for her. can’t stay sane when she sees you.

• hasn’t brought any girls over since you moved in. what can i say? she’s stupidly loyal.

• ellie wishes she could just move in with you already! whines to dina on the phone about how she’s in love and how you’re her soulmate. she’s done everything in her power to make you fall in love with her (she was just saying ‘hi’ in the lobby), so why wasn’t it working?!

• little does ellie know, you’re eavesdropping on her very loud nightly phone calls, smiling to yourself as you plan your first date and how you’re going to ask the useless lesbian out.

[charlesslut16]

Hai there, lurker here who loooooves your writing 🫶🏻

If you’re taking requests, would you be open to doing a fic wherein the driver (Charles/Max/Oscar, your choice) is a jealous, smutty menace?

No pressure though if you’re not feeling it!

-jealous man-

summary : you are at your graduating party and party with your freind, which makes oscar jealous

PAIRING : oscar piastri x fem!reader

WARNINGS : 18+. smut, NSFW, a bit toxish, bit angst, jealous sex, possessive!boyfriend, p in v, curse words, light spanking, dirty talk, slight aftercare.

note : i hope you like it! Love you <3 I'm on vacation that's why i hope that i can post every day.

masterlist 

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The door slammed shut behind you, only to open and slam shut again. You kept your face forward as you kicked off your heels and stomped into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

 A night that was supposed to be one to remember turned into a nightmare. To top it all off, it was your graduation party from university and the one person who was supposed to make it special was the one who ruined it.

You turned around to see Oscar tossing his jacket onto the back of the couch before he walked over to the counter you were standing by and rested his hands against the countertop. 

He kept his face down, so you couldn’t see his expression, though you had a good idea of what it looked like. You took a drink before finally speaking, you had stayed quiet the entire ride home.

“I just can’t believe you’d ruin my night like that.” 

Your voice was a quiet whisper, but there was venom behind your words. He shook his head and looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of anger and frustration. 

“Me? You were the one who was all over that guy, and when he grabbed you, I couldn’t just stand there!” he shouted, walking closer to you, but you backed away with every step.

“Oscar! You beat my childhood best friend to a bloody mess! You’re lucky I’m friends with him, or he’d be suing your ass!” You ran your fingers through your hair, wishing that there was some sort of do over for the whole night.

It had stated off good. You had bought a new dress and shoes, and you even got your hair done just for the party Oscar was throwing for you. While you were getting dressed, Oscar came in dressed nice suit and gave you a small kiss.

He led you outside to his McLaren before he drove the two of you to your favorite bar. All of your friends were there, including Liam, who you hadn’t seen in years.

After doing some celebratory shots and having some cake, you began to catch up with Liam when, out of nowhere, Oscar came up and shoved him away from you before pounding his fist into his face over and over. 

The total disaster of a memory saddened you when you remembered how nice the night was supposed to be going, but it also made you so angry all over again.

“So what if he sues me? It’s not like I don’t have the money, and I’m not about to let some prick touch my girl like that! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how he was looking at you? You aren’t that blind, are you?”

The insult was a smack in the face, but it just added fuel to the fire. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I haven’t seen Liam in six years. Six years. So forgive me if, at my graduation party, I wanted to catch up with him and see how he was doing. And you have absolutely no right to comment on someone else staring at me when you are Oscar-fucking-Piastri. Every girl on the goddamn planet thinks you're the hottest thing to walk this earth, and I don’t go around punching every girl you talk to.”

“It’s different, and you know that,” he said lowly, walking over to you. Frustrated tears began to fall down your cheeks, leaving cool trails in their wake.

“Oh my God! You don’t even see how what you did was wrong! Oscar! You don’t even trust me enough after we’ve been together for two years. Liam is just a friend, that’s all he’s ever been. And now, thanks to you, he probably hates me!”

 You ran your fingers through your long hair and let out a loud sigh. The previous burst of energy you had had drained away slowly, leaving you a burnt out mess.

The two of you stood there in silence for a good while. You just stared at the coffee pot just past Oscar, the night's events replayed over and over again in your head. 

After minutes past, Oscar spoke softly, breaking the deafening silence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me. I just saw him touching you, and it drove me crazy. I ruined your night and I’m sorry. This night was supposed to be about you and I ruined that,” he apologized, grabbing your hands. 

The knuckles on his right hand were cut up, bruised and bloody, but he still brought your hands up to his dry lips to leave a small hearty kiss on your knuckles.

“Let me do something to make it up to you. Please.”

You could feel his warm breath coming out in puffs against your cheek. His hands dropped to your waist and pulled you closer to him, making your heart pound. 

Your house was really eerily quiet, only the quiet sounds of your breathing could be heard. You finally looked up at him bravely, Oscar’s eyes focused on your lips. 

The two of you stood there, timeless, neither one of you wanting to break the tension. After a moment, Oscar couldn’t take it. He pulled you even closer, smashing his lips against yours, his tongue flicking playfully at yours.

 A small groan erupted from the back of Oscar’s throat as you pushed back against him. His hands dropped to your butt as he squeezed gently, before dragging his hands back up your body to cup your face.

His lips peppered kisses down your jaw before settling on a spot on your neck. A whimper left your mouth as he bit down softly before dragging his tongue up your neck. 

He grabbed your legs and picked you up, setting you down on the counter. You tightened your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair before reaching down to pull his shirt off. 

His skin was hot and sent sparks throughout your body with every touch. Oscar lifted you and began walking, or rather, stumbling, towards your bedroom down the hall.

His lips never left yours until you decided to break the kiss to bite down on his shoulder, a spot you knew he enjoyed. His hands on your butt tightened when you did, and he stopped moving for a moment to entirely enjoy the moment.

 A small smirk found its way onto your lips when he began groaning, and you stopped kissing him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He whimpered at the absence of your lips, but hurried to the bedroom.

You released your legs to stand up from your bed, once you were next to your big bed, while Oscar fumbled with the zipper down the side of your graduating dress. 

The moment it was off, his lips began ravishing the soft skin peaking out of your bra, and goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He pulled away and pushed you backwards, so you fell onto the bed.

The wet spots on your breast were cold, but you barely noticed as you watched Oscar tug off his pants and boxers. He was so desperate to feel you, he didn’t even bother with his socks.

His fingers looped into your panties and quickly pulled them off before expertly unclasping your bra. His eyes widened, and he immediately began teasing your left nipple with his tongue while massaging the other with his hand. 

The feeling was numbing, and you almost couldn’t stand the constant teasing. Suddenly, Oscar flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass up in the air.

Normally you’d oppose to this position, but you were so turned on it didn’t bother you at all. In fact, it made you ache even more. You heard him reach over and dig around in the drawer in your end table, followed by the tearing of foil.

The condom wrapper was tossed to the floor and forgotten about the moment you could feel his tip pushing against you. He began rocking into you, a low growl coming from behind you as he moved slowly. 

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out as you buried your face in the sheet. Oscar stopped moving for a moment to reach and grab your hands, twisting them behind your back. 

His hands were large enough to hold both of yours with one, so his other hand reached for your hair, tugging softly. A small whimper left your lips as he began moving again, this time even harder. 

His hand released yours, and he placed it back on your hips, steadying himself as he pushed faster and faster. Small moans were continuously falling out of your mouth as he hit that perfect spot with every thrust.

 A small layer of sweat covered your body as you felt the familiar warmth growing in your stomach. Oscar’s grip on your hair tightened as he gave a particularly strong thrust, causing the both of you to cry out. 

Continuous ‘I love you’s fell out of your mouth as the pleasure began filling your body. Your toes were curling, and your fingertips were growing numb as his grip on your hip tightened, destined to leave small bruises. 

A wave a pleasure swept over your body as you came, crashing down onto the mattress, loud cries echoing throughout the large room. Your body was still twitching with pleasure as Oscar came over you, falling on top of your back. 

His heartbeat could be felt on your back, and you let out a breathy laugh, too exhausted to move. The two of you laid there for a moment before Harry found the energy to roll off of you and onto his back. 

He grabbed a tissue and disposed of the used condom before pulling you into his side. His fingers drew aimlessly on your shoulders as you listened to his heartbeat slowing down to a more relaxed pulse.

“I really fucking love you, Y/N. I’m truly sorry about the way I acted earlier,” he told you, kissing the top of your head. His hand tightened on your shoulder before continuing to draw random circles on your arm.

“What you did wasn’t okay, but you should apologize to Liam. Tomorrow. I just want to cuddle and spend the last hour of my birthday with the crazy, jealous, handsome man that I love. Is that too much to ask?” 

You looked up at him to see him resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed and smiling peacefully. Even if he was crazy sometimes, you loved him even more for it.

[secrethiddenundercoverperson]

Fem!Reader x TWDG Luke - Part 2.

All That Remains | Locked away

23yo , Fem!Reader , slow burn , long plot , reader is in place of young Clementine .

Fandom: The Walking Dead Game, Season 2 Reader pronouns: She/Her

Wc. 6.7K

Warning: Brief indications of SA.

A/N: Things involving Luke will now start to pick up.

IN THIS EPISODE | Comfort, no romance, cute Luke x reader interactions.

PREVIOUSLY ON TWD:

Y/N: We need to find a group. People we can trust. We've been on our own for too long.

Christa: Trust? You think you can trust someone out here? Not now. Not anymore.

~

Stranger: Out here alone? In the middle of nowhere? But we haven't met anyone yet. How many people are you with?

Christa: I'm by myself!

Christa, run!

~

Christa, are you there?

~

"Sam". Well, nice to meet you, Sam.

Oh my God. Thank you! Look, Sam, a can!

It's okay. He's dead. Look, you can see the bite. Looks like he tried to cut it out.

But that never works...

~

I guess you're pretty hungry too.

Here ya go.

Hey! Don't eat it all.

~

I'm... I'm sorry, Sam.

~

Stranger: I'm out! Grab her, let's go!

Now, on The Walking Dead:

ManWithBow: I'm out! Grab her, let's go!

ManWithMachete: Come on, girl. We gotta get.

The man with the machete picks me up and carries me in his arms. They run through the forest past the approaching walkers. Once they outrun the threat, they slow down.

ManWithBow: I think... I think we're safe.

ManWithMachete: Yeah... yeah, we're good. Hey, you alright...?

Y/N: I... I think so.

ManWithBow: What are you doing out here?

ManWithMachete: Where are the, uh... the people you're with?

ManWithBow: I don't want them thinkin' we're doin' anything but tryin' to help you. Hmm... not sure how the group is gonna feel about another mouth to feed.

Y/N: My friend and I got attacked.

They will remember that.

ManWithBow: Hmm... these folks mention what they were after?

Y/N: They might've just wanted food. We were cooking some sort of weasel.

ManWithMachete: They attacked you for a weasel? Damn. That is low. 

ManWithBow: They might've attacked you for a different reason. Were these a group of men?

I nod my head yes.

ManWithBow: Yeah... Usually men like that- ... They might not have wanted the weasel.

My stomach turns remembering that moment. I was almost caught by that man. God knows what he would have done... What... could have happened to Christa. I start to tear up and become visibly upset.

ManWithMachete: Lets not think about that, okay? And trust that we're not trying to do anything similar... Anyways- They didn't mention any names, right? They weren't searching for anybody?

I shake my head no and try to calm myself.

ManWithBow: Hmm.

Luke: Well, I'm Luke, and this is Pete.

Pete: Hey there.

Y/N: Hi. I'm Y/n.

Luke: It's nice to meet you, Y/n. For now, we're gonna take you back to our group, okay? We got a doctor with us, and you look like you could use some-- ... Oh, shit...

Luke notices the blood on my sleeve and nearly drops me. He readjusts his grip on me, and gently places me on my feet as he stares at my arm wide-eyed.

Pete: What? What is it?

Luke: She's... she's been bit, man. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, what are we gonna do here?

Pete: Hmm...

Y/N: No! It was a dog!

Pete: I didn't see any dog, Y/n.

Luke: Come on, look, we just saw you with those lurkers back there!

Pete: I can't remember the last time I saw a dog.

Luke: So what do we do now?

They talk to each other as if I'm not standing right in front of them.

Y/N: No! Guys it really was a dog! I'm not lying!

Luke: Look, I want to believe you... but I gotta believe my own two eyes first... and I didn't see no dog around.

Y/N: No! It was from before!

Pete: Hmm... alright. Let's see it.

Luke: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, watch yourself.

I glare at Luke.

Luke: Hey, don't look at me like that! You're the one that's bit here, okay?

Pete helps me roll up my sleeve.

Y/N: See?

Luke: Is it, uh... is it like she says?

Pete: Hmm... well, could be a dog. Hard to say. So where'd this "dog" go? The one that did this.

Luke: Now, what... what does this matter, Pete? Seriously.

Pete: I wanna know how believable her story is.

Y/N: I... I killed it.

Luke: What? Really? A dog shows up and bites you and you just kill it?

Pete: What would you have done?

Luke: I don't know!

Y/N: It attacked me! I had to fight it off, and then... It got impaled on some spikes. We were at a campsite, so I believe it fell on top of some tent stakes... Seriously guys. I ended his suffering!

Luke: That's... That's a lot to take in. Are you really not making this up?

Pete: Y/n? You tellin' us the truth? You look me in the eyes when you answer.

Y/N: Yes.

Pete: Hmm. Alright, Y/n. That's good enough for me.

Luke: Sigh. Yeah but, what else was she gonna say?

Pete: I've got a good bullshit detector, Luke. That's why you can never beat me at poker.

Luke: scoffs You don't always beat me at... Alright, how can you be sure? I want to believe her but... y'know after everything- Nick ain't gonna like this... Not with what happened to--

Pete: You don't have to remind me of that, boy.

Luke: Right. Sorry, sir.

Pete pats Luke's shoulder.

Pete: Come on. Y/n, are you feelin' alright?

Y/N: I'm fine. Just... tired.

Luke: I'd carry you the rest of the way but... I'm sure you understand.

Y/N: Don't worry about...

That's when my head feels tingly, and my vision slowly fades black.

Luke: Ah, shit.

~

I eventually wake up on the ground... There's a whole group of people gathered around me. They're all arguing with each other.

ManWithRifle: Don't you tell me that! Not with what fuckin' happened.

PregnantWoman: Would someone mind telling me what the fuck is going on here?

Pete: Now hold on, Rebecca.

ManWithRifle: We got this, don't worry.

Rebecca: Like hell you do. Did anyone even think to ask where she came from? For all we know, she could be working with Carver!

Pete: She already told us that she and her friend were attacked. Then she was bitten by a dog.

Rebecca: What? And you just believed her? You should've put her out of her misery right there. Dog bite, my ass.

Y/N: I'm not wor--

The man with the rifle fires at the ground near me. I gasp and freeze in place. The shot was inches away from me. But by the look of it, I don't think he intended to shoot at me...

HeavyMan: What the...?

Pete rips the gun out of his hands.

Pete: Keep your finger off the trigger, boy!

Luke opens the door and runs outside to join the rest of the group.

Luke: Whoa, whoa, what the fuck Nick?!

Rebecca: You idiot! Every lurker for five miles probably heard that!

Nick: You're the one tellin' me to fuckin' shoot her!

HeavyMan: Everybody, just calm down for a second!

Luke: Y/n, you okay?

Y/N: I'm not... I'm not working for anyone. I don't know what you're talking about. I just need help.

Luke: We got a doctor right here, okay? He'll have a look. Now what the hell is wrong with you people?! Okay, she's just scared!

Rebecca: We're all scared, Luke. Don't act like we're the ones being irrational 'cause we don't buy this bullshit story.

Nick: No way she survived out here on her own! Why are we even arguing about this?!

Another man joins the group.

ManWithAccent: Let me take a look.

I draw back and away from the man in fear as he promptly heads towards me.

Luke: It's okay. Go ahead. He's a doctor.

I roll up my sleeve.

HeavyMan: Damn, that must've hurt.

The doctor inspects the wound.

Doctor: Hmm. Whatever it was, it got you good.

Nick: This isn't how we do things, man. When you're bit, you get put down. End of story. I'm not going through this again.

Luke: No one's suggestin' that.

Pete: We could take her arm off. 

I gasp. Immediately, I think of Lee, and how it didn't work for him...

Rebecca: It won't do any good. You'll just be makin' it worse for the girl.

HeavyMan: It's crazy. No one's gonna volunteer to do that.

Luke: I would. If it means saving her life.

Nick: Then what? How would we know it worked?

Luke: I- L-Let's just let Carlos have a look first!

I stare sadly at Luke, in hopes to appeal to him. He seems to have a good say in things.

Luke: Hey, look I'm on your side. I'm trying my best here.

A girl from inside the cabin opens the front door and peeks through it.

Girl: Who's she?

Carlos: Sarah, what'd I say? Stay inside.

Sarah closes the door.

Y/N: I don't mean to be any trouble. I just want to stop the bleeding and then I'll go. You'll never see me again, I promise.

Carlos: And where exactly would you go?

Y/N: To find my friend Christa.

Nick: Forget it. You won't get five feet.

Luke: Look, I may be in the minority here, but my gut tells me she's telling the truth. It probably is just a dog bite. Probably...

Nick: Of course you want to believe it. I'm sure you've got plenty of ideas in your head about her.

Luke: What? Shut the fuck up man? She's a kid! The fuck is wrong with you?

I look up at Luke with confusion.

Y/N: I'm not a kid?...

Nick: There ya go.

Luke: You're?- Man doesn't matter she's a small girl who is HURT. That's not how I'm thinkin' right now.

I'm still lost at what they're talking about, but I just forget about it.

Carlos gets up and returns to the group.

HeavyMan: So? What do you think?

Nick: Was it a lurker?

Carlos: A bite like that... could be anything. Only one way to find out.

Pete: How?

Carlos: We wait.

Rebecca: What?!

Carlos: By tomorrow morning, if the fever's set in, we'll know if she's gonna turn. In the meantime, we can lock her in the shed.

Y/N: What about my arm? It needs to get cleaned, and stitched, and bandaged!

Luke: The girl's in bad shape, Carlos.

HeavyMan: We have all that stuff inside the cabin, we could probably get by with...

Rebecca: Alvin, please...

Alvin: But, yeah, we can't do nothing.

Carlos: I'm not wasting supplies on a lurker bite. If it turns out you're telling the truth, I'll clean it and stitch it up for you in the morning.

Y/N: But...

Carlos walks away. I shudder... Just thinking about the night I'm going to have... No way I'll survive it!

Luke: I'm sorry. It's the best we're gonna get.

Pete offers the rifle to Nick, and he grabs it out of his hands.

Pete: Finger off the trigger, son.

Nick: I ain't your son.

Luke: Don't be like that, man.

Pete: It's alright. Boy's got his mom's temper.

Nick: Come on.

Nick, Luke, and I walk away.

Rebecca: This is just a waste of time. You'll see. And when she turns, I ain't gonna be the one cleanin' up the shed.

As we're walking, I'm holding my arm in pain.

Luke: Look, hold out the best you can, Y/n. And we'll see what's what in the morning.

We reach the shed; Luke opens the door and we exchange a sad glance. I walk into the shed and Luke closes the doors behind me. I can hear Luke and Nick talking from outside the door.

Luke: Why are we doing this? It's so dumb. It looked like a dog bite.

Nick: It's safer this way. And better she turns in there than in the cabin where we SLEEP.

Luke: Whatever man, go. I'll lock up the shed.

Y/N: I can't believe this... You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine.

Luke: Y/n. I'm sorry, I tried. Just hang in there.

Before I can respond, I hear him walk away.

I look around at my surroundings. I might as well get comfortable in here... I see an anchor on the wall. Looks sharp... To my right is a tool board. But nothing of use. It's pretty much empty. On the table in front of it is a vice.

...

Definitely glad they decided not to take my arm off...

I search a barrel but it's empty. Then I find a tackle box.

Y/N: Not much left in here...

I find fishing line inside the box.

Y/N: I guess if I have to, I can use this for stitches.

There's a shelf but it's too high up for me to reach. There's a hammer on it... I try jumping to reach it but end up pushing it further out of my reach...

I see a wooden board on the wall next to the shelf. I unfold the table and climb onto it. I reach for the hammer, but the shelf collapses. I fall straight onto my bite... It knocks the wind out of me, the amount of pain... My adrenaline takes over and my mind sets on getting this hammer. I lift the board up and off of the hammer beneath it. 

There's a visible hole in the wall, but it's boarded up with wood. Good use for the hammer. I pry open the board, and kick the panel open. I quickly crawl through the hole in the wall and notice a nearby walker.

Y/N: They have a doctor...he's gotta have stuff for stitches.

I observe the cabin, making sure its safe to approach

Y/N: It's pretty safe in there...could be a good place to stitch up my arm.

I sneak up to the house and see a window with silhouettes moving from inside. I decide to listen in at the window.

Rebecca: It makes me feel like a fucking idiot when we're not on the same page.

Alvin: We are on the same page!

Rebecca: Not out there, we weren't! Not about the girl! I saw you get soft!

Alvin: What do you want me to do, Bec? Put a bullet in her?

Rebecca: I want you to think about our family first.

Alvin: It's all I think about. So don't give me any shit.

Rebecca: I need some air.

Rebecca leaves the room.

I knock on the glass, and Alvin opens the window.

Alvin: What the hell are you doing?

Y/N: I... I need your help.

Alvin: Me? No. I'm sorry, but I can't do nothin'. Y/N: Please. I need to fix my arm.

Alvin: Are you out of your mind? Even if you ain't bitten by some lurker, which you probably are, you can't be here! You gotta get out of here, you understand? Get back into that shed and Carlos'll take care of you in the morning. Damn it, girl. Go.

Y/N: You'd just let me die?

Alvin: I wouldn't let you do nothing. It's not my call. We're a group.

Y/N: But you could help. And if you don't, isn't that the same?

Alvin will remember that.

Alvin: I don't know, alright?

Alvin looks behind him, checking the door.

Alvin: I'm serious girl, you need to get out of here.

Y/N: I saw when everyone was arguing, you wanted to help.

Alvin: You didn't see anything. Look, you gotta get outta here before my wife finds you. I'm serious, you gotta go. I got enough problems already. We got a baby on the way, Rebecca's all emotional, got a mess of hormones causing all sorts of trouble. I don't need anymore, get it? Now go.

Y/N: Please help. Please...

Alvin: Don't cry.

Y/N: I'm not gonna cry. I'm just... tired.

Alvin: You're not with Carver?

Y/N: No.

Alvin: And you didn't get bit by a dead person?

Y/N: No!

Alvin contemplates.

Y/N: I'll do anything I can to help your situation. Anything.

Alvin: Except leave me alone.

Y/N: Yeah, I guess. Alvin: I'm screwed if anyone finds out I did this. You understand?

Y/N: The b... the cut on my arm needs to be cleaned and stitched.

Alvin: Stitched? I ain't doin' that.

Y/N: I'll figure it out on my own.

Alvin: Alright, look... I don't know what I can find. We're short on bandages, but I might be able to find something clean that would work.

Y/N: I need something to clean it with, and a needle and thread could help, too.

Alvin: I don't even know where to look. Carlos has medical supplies on lockdown, and we don't got much these days.

Y/N: Well, whatever you can get. I'll find the rest on my own.

Alvin: Okay. Wait here.

Alvin leaves and returns shortly afterward.

Alvin: I found you some bandages. And I, uh... I got you a juice box. In case you're thirsty.

Alvin hands me the bandages and juice box. How old do these people think I am? I am grateful for the juice anyways...

Y/N: Thank you.

From the other side of the bedroom door, I can hear Carlos,

Carlos: Alvin, house meeting in five minutes.

Alvin: Oh, okay. Thanks. Now you need to go.

Alvin closes the window and leaves.

Though I have the bandages, that won't do. I need a needle and peroxide... I crouch and sneak around the side of the cabin. I end up in the backyard, and see another board of wood covering up a hole. It's covering an entrance to underneath the house... Maybe there's a way in from under?

I try to pull the plywood, but fail. I use the hammer to remove the nails, successfully. I then move the plywood. I crouch further and walk underneath the foundation of the house.

I finally reach a trapdoor. But when I try to open the door, it doesn't budge. It's locked.

I take my knife out of my pocket and use it to open the trapdoor, but the blade breaks. At least, it opens the lock... I then enter the house quietly.

Carlos: I've already made my decision.

Pete: Well, Luke has more to say, I guess. Where's Sarah?

Carlos: She's got her book. She doesn't need to be a part of this.

I enter the living room. Everyone is in the kitchen by the sound of it... I listen in for a bit...

Rebecca: For all we know, she could be connected with Carver.

Luke: Come on. There's no way.

Alvin: She could be. We don't know.

Nick: She's connected to somebody. There's no way she's out here by herself.

Pete: She said she was with a friend and they got attacked.

Nick: Yeah, right.

Carlos: Whoever she's with, they'll probably come looking for her.

Alvin: Great. They show up and we've got her locked in the shed.

Rebecca: You think we should bring her in here...?

Alvin: No. I'm just saying it wouldn't look too good.

Carlos: It's just a precautionary measure. Anyone else would do the same.

Luke: You really think Carver would come after us...?

Nick: You think he wouldn't...?!

Pete: He's not exactly the type to let things lie.

Luke: What happened, happened. There's nothing we can do about it now.

Alvin: Let him come. I really don't give a damn.

Rebecca: Alvin!

Alvin: What? I don't.

Nick: You brought her back here, not me. You knew she was bit.

Luke: What was I supposed to do, huh? Leave her out there to die?

Nick: Better her than us.

Pete: You'd've done the same, Nick.

Nick: It wasn't the brightest idea.

Luke: Oh, and firing your rifle was, huh...? Next time we'll just put up a neon sign that says "Lurkers Welcome".

Alvin: Where you goin', hon...?

Rebecca: I want to get my sweater.

Carlos: We'll be done in a minute.

Nick: You're in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by lurkers, about to get eaten alive, and you're telling us it was a dog?

Luke: Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but...look, for whatever reason, I think she's telling the truth.

Pete: Look, there's no point in arguing about it now. She's in the shed, she's not gonna hurt anyone. We'll just see what's what in the morning.

Luke: But Carlos said she could die if she doesn't get her arm treated.

Rebecca: Assuming she doesn't turn.

Alvin: That true? The girl could really die...?

Carlos: If the infection spreads...anything's possible. It could definitely get a whole lot worse for her.

Luke: Don't we have penicillin? Or something that could, y'know...stop the infection from spreading?

Carlos: We have some. But not enough to spare.

Nick: We're not wasting anything on her. What if one of us needs it?

Luke: Look, I'm just saying, we could help, that's all.

Rebecca: We need to think of ourselves first. That's just the way it is.

Pete: We can't just let her die. Not if there's something we can do about it. Let's just say she's telling the truth and she doesn't turn. Then what?

Luke: We apologize for being assholes. And then we help fix her arm.

Rebecca: She can't stay with us. We barely have enough supplies for ourselves.

Pete: We've got more fish in the traps than we could ever eat.

Nick: Yeah, but she's seen us. She knows we're here.

Luke: What, you scared of a small girl like that...?

Carlos: A small woman is not the problem. It's who she might tell.

Alvin: We gotta keep an eye on her.

Rebecca: IF she doesn't turn. Which she probably will.

Nick: I gotta take a leak.

Carlos: Hold on. We're almost done.

Nick: Fine.

Carlos: My point is, if that woman can find her way here, then almost anyone can.

Luke: Pete, you saw those lurkers, alright? That's more than we've seen in a while.

Pete: Yeah. Seems like it's not as safe as it was. 'Least not like when we found this place.

Nick: Maybe it's time to move on.

Rebecca: We can't just keep running. At some point we've got to settle down.

Carlos: We should. And we will. But can we find somewhere safe? I don't know.

Pete: You seen what it's like out there.

Alvin: I was just starting to like this place.

Pete: Look, we've had a good run here. But if it's time to move on, then I got no problem with that.

Luke: Yeah, but...I mean, where do we go from here...?

Alvin: No more cities. We all agreed on that, right...? Too many damn lurkers.

Nick: We're not going back the way we came. That's for damn sure.

Rebecca: We can probably find somewhere better. We just need to look.

Carlos: Wherever we go, we can't get too attached. We'll be fine as long as we keep things fluid.

Pete: We can't forget we need to check the traps tomorrow.

Nick: What do we do with the girl?

Rebecca: You're not leaving her here with me!

Luke: We can't just keep her locked in the shed. We're not animals.

Carlos: Then take her with you.

Nick: What...?

Carlos: You want to keep an eye on her, then take her with you. Are we almost done here...? I want to make sure Sarah's ready for bed. Pete: Wait a second. There's something else I want to talk about.

I had been listening in for a couple of minutes. It was about time I stopped caring about whatever the hell they were saying, and focused on my arm. Because as soon as I'm done fixing myself up. I'm out of here. Luke and Pete seem to be on my side... but everyone else is unsure of me. Except Rebecca. She is definitely sure I'm some bitten, dead girl who works with "Carver". Whoever he is, won't matter to me once I'm gone. 

I then go upstairs. The steps are so creaky, I'm almost trying to float over them with each careful step.

I enter a door and it ends up being the bathroom.

Y/N: They have to have medical supplies around here somewhere.

I open the medicine cabinet and take a needle from a tomato-shaped pincushion.

Y/N: It's clean.

I put the needle away carefully in my pocket.

Y/N: I'll still need something to keep it from getting infected.

Just when I'm about to open the door and leave, I hear something.

Rebecca: That man sometimes, I swear!

It's that angry pregnant lady, Rebecca... I look around, quickly! I need to find a place to hide! The shower? I jump in.

Rebecca enters the bathroom and drinks some water from the sink. They have running water?? What if... She tries to take a shower?! I should've just gone in the closet. Oh God...

Rebecca: Damn it... Just need to have this baby and...oh, god. Let it be okay and...let it be his.

Woah.

Rebecca takes a deep breath and leaves. As soon as it sounds clear, I leave to find some peroxide, or anything to clean my wound with... I open another door opposite the bathroom. As soon as I peek through I hear a gasp. For a second I almost shut it and run, but it's the girl. I put my finger on my lips and shush Sarah.

Sarah: You're not supposed to be in here.

I look around the room, look behind me, then close the door as I enter slowly.

Y/N: Hi, can you please help me?

Sarah: I'm not supposed to talk to you. My dad can't know.

Y/N: Why, what will he do?

Sarah: Get mad at me.

Y/N: What does he do when he gets mad?

Sarah: He gets angry and says he's disappointed in me and that he just loves me and wants me to be safe.

Y/N: That's it? Nothing else?

Sarah: Yeah. It's the worst.

From what I can tell, Sarah is no threat to me. I know I can talk my way out of this.

Sarah: What happened to you?

Y/N: A dog bit me.

Sarah: Sounds scary... I bet it hurts.

Y/N: I could die if I don't take care of it. Do you understand?

Sarah will remember that.

Y/N: I just need something to clean it with. I bet it would be with the rest of your dad's medical supplies.

Sarah: Yeah, it is.

Sarah contemplates for a bit. I wait in hopes to get the answer I want.

Sarah: I'll help you.

Y/N: Good. Thank you.

Sarah: I'm Sarah.

Y/N: I'm Y/n.

Sarah: We're friends. Right? We can be best friends. I haven't met another girl my age since way before. It's hard to be the only girl, you know? Rebecca is okay, but she's old. And that's it. And if her baby is a girl, it'll be forever before she's old enough to, like, be my friend. And then I'll be super old.

Y/N: We're not the same age.

Sarah: What?

Y/N: We're not the same age. Everyone here thinks I'm a lot younger.

Sarah: Oh, I see. How old are you then? I'm fifteen.

Y/N: I'm 23.

Sarah: You don't seem like it.

Y/N: That's just how it is.

Sarah: So, can we still be friends, then?

Y/N: Yes.

Sarah: Promise?

Y/N: Yes.

Sarah will remember that.

Sarah holds out her pinkie for a pinkie swear. I lock my pinkie with hers.

Sarah: A pinky swear is forever. I'll see if I can find the stuff my dad uses when I get a cut. Lemme look around...

Sarah searches the room and then gives me a bottle of peroxide.

Sarah: I think this is it.

Y/N: Perfect. That'll work.

Sarah: You can't do it here, though. Someone will find you.

Y/N: Don't worry, I won't.

I open the door and peek left and right to see if it's clear.

Y/N: Thanks, Sarah.

Sarah: Shhh!

Y/N: Okay. I better get somewhere safer to do this.

I return to the shed and take out the supplies. I roll up my sleeve and place my arm on the table.

Y/N: This is gonna suck.

I take a sip of juice first. I then unscrew the lid of the peroxide and pour it on my wound, then drop it. I scream in pain, as I feel the peroxide bubble up all over. It hurts so bad I'm almost in tears, and I'm not even at the...

Y/N: The fun part.

It takes me a few greuling tries, but I eventually thread the needle.

I begin the first suture, then slam my fist on the table. I'm so dizzy, but I have to push through. My adrenaline, my best friend at this point, takes over and I'm ready to continue.

I continue suturing and screaming in pain. I'm finally done, and wrap my arm up with the bandages, but then I drop them.

As I'm picking them up, a walker reaches through the shed and grabs my leg. I hold onto the table and reach for the hammer as I try to kick it away, but it knocks me over. I try to grab a nearby rake but can't reach it.

The wall breaks and the walker crawls all the way into the shed and climbs on top of me. I kick it away and stand up. I quickly grab the rake and push the walker backward with it. It falls and gets impaled by the anchor on the wall.

I grab the hammer and hit it repeatedly in the head until it stops moving. Luke opens the shed, with the rest of the group close behind him.

Luke: Holy shit.

Alvin: What the...?

Nick: How the hell did it get in here?

Pete: Girl's tough as nails.

Carlos: Are you alright?

Luke: The shed should've been safe!

Y/N: I am still not bitten. I never was. And you left me out here to die.

Luke: You patched yourself up?

Luke watches me carefully in disbelief.

Nick: Where'd you get that stuff?

Rebecca: Did she steal from us?

Pete: This doesn't change a thing. She hasn't done anything to us.

Rebecca: Says the man not carrying a baby.

Pete: Enough already!

Luke: Guys, please.

Y/N: I did. I took stuff and I'm sorry. I really am.

They will remember that.

Rebecca: And you think you can trust her?

Pete: Goddamn it, don't even start! Any of you would've done the same if you were half as tough as this girl. So just save it.

Carlos: Bring her in and I'll take a look at her arm.

Alvin: Damn lurkers sneakin' around out here... We better get inside.

Luke: You hungry?

Y/N: I haven't eaten in days. Not even that weasel.

Luke cracks a guilty smile, but I smile back to reassure him. He's on my side from what I can tell. No need to guilt trip him of everyone.

We all go inside.

Carlos inspects my wound. Luke paces and Nick bites his fingernails.

Carlos: This might hurt a little.

Y/N: Ow!

Luke: How's she look?

Carlos: Her suturing skills need some work, but otherwise I'd say she should be fine.

Luke: So it wasn't a lurker bite?

Carlos: If it was, the fever would've already set in and her temperature would be through the roof.

Carlos bandages my arm. Nick leaves the room and Luke follows him. Carlos washes his hands in the sink.

Carlos: I wish you wouldn't've done what you did.

Y/N: What do you mean?

Carlos: You manipulated my daughter.

Y/N: I asked for her help?

Carlos: She's not someone you can just ask for help.

I'm not sure what to say, so I stay silent.

Carlos: I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but there are a few things you need to know about my daughter.

Y/N: Okay...

Carlos: She isn't like us. You may not get that initially, but once you're around her for a while, you'll understand. If she knew how bad the world is... what it's really like out there... she would... cease to function. She's my little girl. She's all I have left, and I would ask that you stay away from her.

Y/N: I'm sorry, I realize now what you mean. I didn't know. I was nice to her if that counts for anything...

Carlos will remember that.

Carlos: It's okay. You're forgiven. Just don't make any more mistakes.

Carlos leaves and Luke enters, holding a bowl of food.

Luke: Hey, uh... brought you some food.

Luke and I sit at the table and start eating.

Luke: That's gonna leave of hell of a scar.

Y/N: Better than losing it.

Luke: You can say that again. Scars...they're way cooler than stumps.

Luke tries to be playful with me. But I can tell he's still guilty and wary about what to say to me.

Y/N: Don't look so guilty. It's okay, you didn't want to do that to me. I survived anyway, and for that I'm grateful.

Luke: Grateful to who? You could've died in there...

Y/N: I could've died out in those woods, but you helped me. Gave me a chance.

Luke: Well, it wasn't just me. Pete helped you too.

Y/N: Then I am grateful to both you and Pete. Thank you.

Luke: You don't have to thank me...

I finish my bite of food then continue talking.

Y/N: Yeah, who was it that saved me from the walker on top of me by chopping its head off? And the one that carried me away?

I smile. I want him to be happy. We have enough burdens. Though I'm incredibly anxious talking to new people, and in a lot of pain, I just want everyone to feel okay.

He smiles back and looks down at his food. 

Y/N: And I didn't end up with my arm chopped off! This is best case scenario.

Luke chuckles, but then noticed a growing sadness on my face as I start to think...

Luke: What's wrong? Y/N: Nothing. I just had a friend who lost his arm once, that's all. I'm okay.

Nick enters the room.

Nick: Hey, look. Um, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for... well, for being a dick out there. I got kinda aggro and that was definitely not cool.

Luke: Nick's been known to go off every once in a while. Don't hold it against him.

Nick: Yeah, I guess we all have our moments.

Luke: You definitely had one out there.

Nick drops his head down as he sits next to me.

Y/N: You were just protecting your friends. I get it.

Nick will remember that.

Nick: I didn't mean to be so harsh. I just... we had a bad experience once.

Y/N: What happened...?

Luke: Nick lost his mom. We took care of someone who'd got bit.

I can see the hurt in Nick's eyes...

Nick: It was my fault. I--

Luke: It was no one's fault. We thought we could control it, but... we couldn't. And then she turned and his mom was standing right there and she got attacked... There was nothing we could do about it.

Nick: Anyway. Hopefully, you understand.

Y/N: I do. Yeah.

Nick smiles at me then gets up and leaves.

Luke: So, since you're pretty much on your own, what's your plan?

Y/N: I don't know. Like you said, I'm just on my own now. It's never really been this way.

I wonder if I should ask to stay here? No, I couldn't... They all want me out of here. But, should I ask? I don't kn-

Luke: Well, you're welcome to stay here if you want. You can let yourself heal up and take some time to sort things out.

Y/N: Do you think everyone else will be okay with it?

Luke: They'll just have to deal with it.

He smiles at me. I let out a secret sigh of relief and smile back sheepishly.

Luke: So what happened to your parents? If you don't mind me asking. 

Y/N: Do you really still think I'm a kid?

Luke: Oh, I- right. Well, how old are you?

Y/N: Wait, I want to see what you think. How old do I look to you?

Luke: 16.. 17..?

Y/N: 23!

Luke: Oh, wow, I- mean you just seem a lot younger. 'Cause, y'know, you're... small?

Y/N: Sigh. Yeah, I know. Everyone likes to mention it to me.

Luke: But you're strong. That's for sure. None of us could've done what you did out there. I didn't mean to offend you or-

Y/N: No, no! You haven't. I'm just very used to hearing it is all... And trust me, you would've been able to do it too. Once your body knows it's in trouble... Adrenaline will get you through anything...

Luke looks down with remorse.

Y/N: But really? Does my face look that young?...

Luke: I think your face looks to be about 23 years old.

I smile.

Y/N: Really? Or are you just saying that?

I tease him.

Luke: Really! I mean it.

We both continue eating.

Y/N: Well, how old are you? Have you been keeping track?

Luke: I'm 26. My birthday is in the winter, so I know it must be coming up soon.

Y/N: Mine too, January 26th. (~ Wink wink)

Luke: Pete's birthday is in the winter too. And like I said, seems like it's coming soon... so maybe we'll just have one big winter birthday party then.

We smile at each other and keep eating.

Luke: The winter will be rough, but it's not our first time surviving it. How do you usually get through it?...

Y/N: I'm usually with other people that can help me, if that's what you're asking.

Luke: I was just curious on how you made it this far.

Y/N: I just try to stay with good people and not do anything dumb.

I start feeling sad again...

Luke: Hey, I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have asked.

Y/N: In the beginning, my parents went on vacation and left me with a babysitter and they never came back. We went to Savannah to find them... but they were already dead.

Luke: Wow. Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

Y/N: This man found me and took care of me.

...

Y/N: We met up with other survivors and we all tried to make it, but... it didn't work. His name was Lee. He taught me how to survive... He's the reason I keep my hair short.

Luke: What happened to him?

Y/N: I ran away... I was stupid. There was a man who said he knew my parents. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I ran away and Lee died because of it.

Luke: Maybe he would've died anyways.

Y/N: It was my fault. I just... sometimes people die because of me. Because they always try to protect me. I can't stand it.

Luke: I'm sure none of them regret trying to keep you safe.

Y/N: I'd hope so... for the past, I don't know seven years? I'd been with my friend Christa. The friend who was with me when we got attacked.

Luke lightens the mood,

Luke: For that damn weasel.

I laugh. Pete enters the room.

Pete: I hate to interrupt, but I'm out there standing watch and I can't help but notice this place is lit up like a goddamn beacon in the middle of the woods.

Luke: Yeah, it's time to turn in anyways.

Y/N: Alright, and thank you Pete.

Pete turns his head in question.

Y/N: For saving me?

Pete: Oh, right, you're welcome, Y/n.

We exchange smiles as he leaves the room. Pete winks at Luke, and it clearly frustrates him.

Luke: When you're finished eating, come find me upstairs. I'll show you where you can sleep.

I smile and nod with a mouthful of food. He puts his bowl in the sink and leaves.

To be continued...

A/N; Things are starting to speed up, see?? Ah trust me, the next episode... Allllll Luke baby. So far this has really just been the transcript to the game LOL, but believe me when I say, the next episode will be a whole new case.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twelve

Master List of Series

I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to @sunny-boy-06 . They've been someone whose name is always in my notifs. You've been a lurker on this account, but I see you! You always like every post I make, whether it's regarding this story or not, and I just want to let you know your support doesn't go unnoticed. Thank you. <3

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I hope y'all like this chapter. It's quite the eventful one. I apologize if it's information overload. If it is too much or you have any comments or questions, don't hesitate to ask! It always makes me smile having interactions with everyone. It's one of the reasons I love writing so much on platforms like these. 

Translation Guide: Lykemās: easy, be quiet. 

Chapter Warnings: Description of urination, Angsty girl with unresolved trauma, Violence, Sweet baby girl Aegon.

A cloaked figure stumbled through the alleyways of Kings Landing, bumping into townsfolk and mumbling as the stench of alcohol radiated off his body. Men and children alike turned their heads at the hunched man, their faces covered in disgust as they avoided him. Another poor drunkard from Flea Bottom, they thought, paying him no mind.

A woman, clearly a harlot by the bleached streak of dye in her hair, was speaking to a merchant, stroking vibrantly colored fabric in a suggestive way as the hobbled figure passed. A strand of white caught her eye, hearing the familiar ramblings in her ear. Quickly, she forgot her current mission, slinking away as she ran to her Mistress's home.

The crowned Prince Aegon wandered mindlessly on the merchant Streets of Kings Landing, searching for his next drink in all the wrong places. How low he had become these past few years, moaning and groaning about how unhappy he was and how unfair his life is. He had only wanted one thing in his existence, which was always out of reach.

Love.

Love from his mother, father, brother, sister, you-- from anyone he met.

Aegon did not know why he starved for it or went through the streets at night searching for love. Perhaps during his conception, the Gods decided he would never know what it felt like for someone to stare at him with stars in their eyes, kissing his woes away as they whispered those three words.

"I love you..."

But perhaps not. The most likely reason Aegon never experienced that warm feeling from someone was most evident at this very moment as he felt liquid pool below his stomach.

"Fuck," he mumbled, turning down a corner with far fewer people as he unlaced his soiled trousers between a cluster of wooden crates and barrels.

He could hear those who regrettably crossed his stream shouting in disgust as his piss covered their shoes. How lucky, Aegon justified, they have royal piss on their clothes, not just some common one.

Suddenly, the bright autumn sun disappeared, eclipsing the surrounding area in darkness. Aegon quickly looked up with his eyes squinted and mouth agape, stuffing himself back into his pants. In a flash, the sun was back again, the outline of what could only be a tail soaring above him and out of view.

"Aemond," he snorted, "arrogant prick."

His brother must have taken Vhagar out for a morning stroll. He ignored it, accustomed to his brother's theatrics. Aemond had the largest dragon the world had ever seen. Aegon would've boasted too.

The elder Prince sniffled as if dismissing the thought as he walked into nowhere. If he traveled long enough; eventually, the sweet nectar of Arbor Red would appear in his hands. He would find that taste, no matter that he was actually passed out in the same spot for the past two sun positions.

***

Common folk in the town's square stared at you in awe as you descended the rope ladder down Cannibal's enormous back. You were sure they had never seen a dragon so close before, your Targaryen brethren keeping the beasts deep inside Rhaenys's hill and only letting them soar the skies.

One person, a young boy, stepped closer to your dragon, his curious nature getting the best of him as Cannibal snapped his jaws with a snarl. The boy stumbled backward as Cannibal recoiled, separating you and the townsfolk with his enormous body.

The formerly wild dragon still held the same spirit as before, unwelcoming to the presence of so many people. He could not be around any of your family's dragons, sticking to his den on the eastern side of Dragonmont. After several months of you and Cannibal's partnership, Luke had convinced you to take your dragons out for riding. The Keepers warned against it, but you did it anyways, and the young Arrax nearly paid his life for it when Cannibal lunged, his teeth flaring at the poor juvenile.

"Lykemās, Cannibal," you soothed, stroking your hand along his large snout, his obsidian scales reflecting the midday sun. He took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring as he released you from the protective embrace.

The young boy stood frozen in place, watching your mighty dragon with wonder in his eyes. That would have been you standing there if not for those fateful days in the past, mesmerized by the shiny black skin of Cannibal. A half-hearted smile rose onto your face at the memories, painful and bittersweet.

"Ten Golden Dragons should be enough for you to buy my companion your protection and some pork loins, yes?" you asked the boy absentmindedly as you searched your purse for some coins.

"Ye-yes, ma'am," the child nodded, his voice shaky.

"Good," you acknowledged, handing him the money, and you turned back to your dragon. "I shant be long boy. Be good now, Cannibal. This kind ser right here has promised to watch after you." Cannibal moved his head, and you couldn't help but feel he was mocking you.

Yes, your sweet, temperamental cannibalistic dragon did not need protection, but it was not for his safety but more for the dozens of ordinary folk beginning to crowd around him.

"Do not let people get so close to him. I cannot be sure that he would not eat a houseful of them in one bite," you whispered to the child, surveying the onlookers. He nodded enthusiastically at your words, taking the coins as he stepped closer to Cannibal as any curious child would. "Oh, and," you paused, remembering another critical piece of information, "do not pet him. The last time someone attempted that, they got their arm ripped out."

You offered him a small smile as he quickly backed up, fear clouding his puggish face.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your wrinkled riding clothes as you went to Flea Bottom, your home.

***

Even in the cooler autumn breeze, it smelled like curdled milk and feces. Though your nose scrunched in disgust, everything brought a nostalgic feeling to your heart. You had remembered the rushed layout of the place, watching the residents walk up their chipped sandstone staircases to their houses, clothes in mere tatters. You remembered running through these same alleyways as a child, dodging drunkards and Gold Cloaks with your pockets and satchels full of trinkets and fruits.

Everything was far less severe then. There were no courtly manners to worry about, no special dresses to wear at certain times, no obligation to train or speak a certain way, and no worries of succession.

It was simple, and you missed it, but in the same breath, you wouldn't change your life for anything.

How many people could say they tame the wildest dragon in the world? A dragon that sent others of its species cowering in fear. A dragon that ate other dragons for breakfast. Not even Aemond Targaryen could say that. Largest dragon be damned.

Ma's place was still the same. The only different thing was a carved wooden sign stating the name of her business, and the steps were more worn than you remembered—a victim of time, just like you.

Father had forbidden you to write to her, demeaning her a traitor of the crown for keeping you hidden, but Rhaenyra, ever the tender-hearted mother, could not bear to keep you from the only person in your old life. She had lost her mother just as you had, in the birthing bed. It was one of the reasons you had become close. She could not bear being a willing participant in your lack of communication with the woman who was the maternal figure in your early life. She would send the letters with her royal seal, her husband never knowing of your secret correspondence.

Your knock was barely audible on the door, fading into the background of the bustling streets of Flea Bottom. It flung open anyways, the person no doubt waiting for your arrival as you were crushed in a flurry of skirts and limbs. You could barely breathe as the person crushed you in their embrace, rocking you back and forth as they mumbled excitedly.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet little girl, how I've missed you," Madam squealed into your shoulder. You had nearly grown a full head taller than her in your time away and couldn't help but hug her back. "You're so strong," she said, releasing you and squeezing your biceps, "and tall! Dear Mother, you have grown! They must bee feeding you well! I should hope so," she chortled, "considering the taxes they're making us pay now." Ma shook her head, her hands on her hips as you stood awkwardly.

"Never mind that!" She swatted the subject of your family's taxation away with her hand, pulling you in by the wrist. "Come! Come sit, I've made your favorite, or at least I hope it is still your favorite," she added, a sad look glossing over her deep-set eyes.

"What is it, Ma?" You asked, hoping to reel her mind back into the present instead of wherever it went.

"Apple Muse," she chirped, her face bright once more. "Though, I am sure it is not nearly as good as the ones on Dragonstone. I recall how much you adored them in your letters."

You felt terrible at the evident insecurities Ma had, afraid that you had grown into a more refined palette. You had, but Apple Muse was something easy and quick they made in the kitchens with few ingredients. It was peasant food, and you liked it because it reminded you of the life you once had.

"I will adore yours just as well," you grinned at her. "It is the purpose and memories around the food for which I like it. I always think of you when I eat it."

"Wonderful! I wasn't sure when you would arrive, so I've had it simmering in the pot. It just needs a moment to cool, and then I can pour it." You nodded, your eyes drifting around the kitchen where you had many of your first meals.

The pot Ma was cooking in was still the same, a sturdy iron built for years of use, and the fireplace it sat inside was blackened with soot. The wood looked lighter from sun damage through the window. A few cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and you had to hold back the urge to knock them down with your sword.

"Ma? Could I," you paused, tucking your lower lip in to bite it as she turned. "Is it possible for me to see my old room? If it is not in use," you quickly added, realizing that much time had passed and she was still a businesswoman.

"Yes," she answered, wiping her palms on her brown apron and plucking the circle of keys from her hip. "I... I could not bear to let anyone use it, even after all of these years." You regarded her with a soft smile, picking out the key to your old bedroom as you hugged her.

You knew it was painful. The near-decade spent without the child you raised across the sea, missing so much of her life. It was agony for Madam at times, waiting for that measly scrap of parchment with a wax seal, her only communication with someone she regarded as her own. It still pained her greatly to think about when you were upset, seeking comfort in the arms of people who did not know you. Not like she did. Madam laid the foundation of you, but the Targaryens built upon it. She would despise them for eternity because of that, no matter how handsomely Aegon paid her girls.

The staircase you stomped up as a child creaked loudly, running your hand along the railing as more memories flashed across your eyes. You recalled Lyra chasing you down these stairs with a mouse between her fingers, squealing and giggling as she dangled it by its tail until Madam put her foot down. She had caught it scampering out of a room one day, no doubt the culprit for all the holes in the girls' shoes that had been plaguing them for weeks.

You begged Lyra not to kill the poor creature, something so small and innocent doing what it needed to survive. She compromised, having you follow her to a stable house, releasing the tiny thing into the haystacks. It would be free to roam and bother the farmers instead of the whores. The memory pained you now.

You reached your door, struggling to unlock the stiff handle. It was hidden around a corner at the end of the hall. Someone would have to know precisely where they went inside the brothel to find the room. You never fully understood why. Only when it was too late.

Finally, the knob jiggled, and you shoved once, twice, before it opened, stirring up the undamaged items in an explosion of dust. Your small cot was neatly made, unlike how you left it on that fateful day.

The few dresses you had as a child were still untouched, except for the few holes that littered the skirts and arms from moths. You stroked the fabric, rough and scratchy, unlike the smooth, tailored clothes you wear now.

You sat on your bed, the straw mattress unforgiving with your weight as it snapped and cracked. You knew it would not break. It could fit you and Aunt Lyra in the small space as she tickled and teased your writhing form. A sigh escaped your mouth, your shoulders deflating as you looked at the abandoned area, a hollow, empty feeling enveloping your chest.

What would your life have been like if Daemon had never found out you existed? Would you still be sleeping in this same room? In the same tiny bed, you rested in as a child, or would you be in a different one? In a place fit for a girl of your size. Would you be a working girl or training to one day take Ma's place as the owner of this establishment?

One thing you knew for sure was that Lyra would be alive. You half expected her head to pop through the doorway, her blue eyes bright with contagious excitement as she invited you on a new adventure. The feeling was fleeting, your grief attempting to trick you into a reality that would never be.

Madam called to you over the symphony of moans you had drowned out, letting you know the food was ready. You stood, walking silently over to your door, shutting it and locking the knob, leaving everything as it once was.

***

"Lookie what we haves here," a man with a thick northern accent said in the darkness, kicking Aegon out of his slumber.

The sun had long set, and the nightlife was in full swing. Where had the time gone? Aegon looked around perplexed, his body forcing him to stop at the pounding of his head.

"This one 'ill be easy," another man out of the group commented, "He's already passed out drunk."

"Oi! Had more ale than you can handle," he shouted into Aegon's face, the man's breath indicating the same applied to him.

The Northern Man crouched down to his level, grabbing him by his chin and slapping him on the cheek for good measure. The dingy cloak that had hidden his white hair fell, revealing his identity.

"Aye. He's a Targaryen," a third man that Aegon overlooked said, a short dagger glinting in his hand.

"So?" The Northern Man questioned, not seeing the problem with his victim's identity. "We're only gonna mug 'em and send 'em on his merry way."

"He's seen our faces," the second thug expressed worriedly.

Aegon, in fact, had not seen their faces. His eyes were blurry, and the alley was too dark for him to see, but you had seen, watching the interaction behind them, as silent as a mouse. It had surprised you how easily the Prince's location had fallen into your lap. One of Madam's girls had interrupted your meal, out of breath as she told Ma what she saw.

It had turned out, in your years away, Madam had created quite the network of spies rivaling that of the White Worm. Her reach traveled all through Westeros and even across the Narrow Sea. It should not have been a shock how much her hands extended, ever the entrepreneur.

The leader, you could only assume, waved his grimy hand in front of Aegon, and when he made no reaction, he gestured to his conspirators. They reluctantly followed his actions, picking poor helpless Aegon up as one delivered a blow to his gut. Both you and Aegon winced but couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your lips. You would let them have their fun. He deserved it, after all.

After a brutal punch to the Prince's nose, blood gushing down his chin, did you finally intervene.

You unsheathed your sword quietly, still not wanting your presence to be known, as you stepped behind the man with the dagger. He posed the most threat until your steel blade sliced his hand clean off his wrist.

The man screamed in agony, clutching his dismembered arm as blood spurted from his wound, soaking the weathered stone below. The other two turned in your direction, your riding cloak keeping your figure in the darkness. The crimson dots shining on your sword gave them an indication of where you might be, pausing for a moment as they thought of their actions.

Quickly and with shaking hands, both Aegon's attackers drew their knives, mere toothpicks compared to your weapon. You couldn't help the laugh that escaped as you saw them step closer to you, their metal sticks trembling in their grasp.

The more dim-witted of the two lunged forward, swiping his blade where he assumed your torso was, but missing by an arm's length as you swiftly parried, knocking his knife to the ground and kicking it behind you. He froze in place, his partner attempting to do the same tactic but getting closer as you dodged.

Still, with a smile, you moved out of reach, slinking behind the pair, the fabric of your cloak flapping with your movements. They came at you simultaneously, but your arms were faster, deeply cutting across the abdomen of one, jumping out of the other's path as his inebriated body smacked against a stone wall. You did not stifle your laugh this time, letting it vibrate your chest as he fell flat on his back, his head smacking the hard ground.

"That was easier than anticipated," you said aloud. The two men, still clinging to consciousness as their blood leaked from their bodies, stared at you wide-eyed, stunned to hear a woman's voice.

You ignored them, pushing your hood off and rushing to Aegon as you lifted him upright. Other than his bloodied nose and a cut to his cheek, he was fine, albeit still a bit hungover. You hadn't realized how worried you had become as you watched the men from earlier beat him, your hands shaking as you stroked his greasy hair away from his face.

"Aegon," you said softly, the name feeling foreign on your tongue. "Are you alright?" You knew the question was asinine, he was not, but the sound of your racing heart inside your ears made you simple.

He groaned softly, still not quite back into reality as he lazily pushed your hand away. "My Prince, it is me," you paused, wiping the blood from his upper lip with your cloak. "It is your cousin." You said your name, his brows raising and glazed violet eyes opening.

"Little one," he spoke, his voice hoarse. "You are here?"

"Yes. I am here," you nodded, putting his dirtied hands on the sides of your face, attempting to ground him into the moment. All past animosity had left your mind, focusing solely on his face, more squared than you remembered.

"I have missed you, little one," Aegon said, his words slurring together. "I dreamed this day would come when you-"

Aegon's words were lost in the night air as someone yanked your long braid, pulling you to the ground. The man you had cut in the stomach flung himself over top of you, slamming your shoulders into the weathered stone streets, wrapping his slick hands around your throat.

You were stunned, momentarily caught off guard as he squeezed tighter, vengeance in his beady eyes. You blinked rapidly, collecting your thoughts as blood pooled on your face and air leaving your body.

The memories of your training surfaced in your mind, searching for any weak point you could use to free yourself. Luckily, all these men were idiots as you realized he had left your arms free.

You took the dagger Daemon had gifted you off your belt, shoving it into the man's side repeatedly, his blood spurting onto your hand and riding clothes. His grip loosened, and you brought your knee up, pushing him to the ground in the same position he had you, only wholly subdued.

He had no chance to beg for his life as you stabbed him in the chest, over and over and over again, until nothing but his body's subconscious twitches controlled him.

Aegon smiled as he watched you rise from the man's now mutilated corpse, your shoulders heaving as a warm feeling gathered in his chest. He reached out to you like a child asking their parent to carry them, and you accepted, saying something he did not hear as that feeling numbed his senses.

This was love, he thought as he noticed his attacker's blood splattered on your soft cheeks. The kisses and the touches of one special someone were love, yes, but not real love-- not true love. True love was death. It was the fear of loss and showing yourself raw and bare, even with the fear of rejection hammering at your insides. It was protecting the kin of someone who had hurt you in immeasurable ways.

Aegon was in love with you, he realized at that moment, as you shifted his weight onto your shoulder, using the opportunity to steal a whiff of your scent—lavender and dragon with a hint of smoke from your years on Dragonstone. You must have loved him, too, for not just anyone would kill three people for a single man.

***

It was an eternity before the Red Keep came into view, trying to picture the maps you studied of the layout as you helped Aegon's limp body up the hills. You had half a mind to drag him by his arms, uncaring if his porcelain skin was scratched with pebbles. Sacks of sand and grain were nothing compared to a full-grown man, and at this point, the fire that raged within you as you attacked those men was dwindling.

Aegon's loose leg caught on a stray rock, causing you and him to fall onto the stone street, his face buried in your chest. You huffed, attempting to push his enervated body off you with no success.

"Where are we going, little one," he asked, his violet eyes shining in the light of the street torches.

"Do not call me that," you grimaced, trying to roll him off again. "We are going home."

"Dragonstone? I have to say, dearest, that this is going to be a long haul for both of us. Why do we not just get some rest here, at the nearest inn," he questioned, tilting his head to one of the many buildings.

"No, not my home, you imbecile. Yours. Why would you ever think we would be going to Dragonstone," you said exasperated, unwedging your arm out from under him.

"I do not want to go there," he whined, sticking his lip out. "Let us just sleep at an inn," Aegon offered again, "I seem to recall a much enjoyable night spent between the two of us in one of these establishments."

A sound of disgust came from your throat, finally gaining enough strength to push him off. "Your skin is covered and dirt, your hair greasy, and you reek of piss. You are repulsive, Aegon, and I would rather be tarred and feathered for all of Kings Landing to see rather than spend one more moment with you."

Aegon's face contorted in hurt, his pink lips pouting as he stared at you with glassy eyes. His hair covered the sides of his square face looking years younger than he was—a heartbroken little boy in a man's body.

In his moments of need, you had forgotten the years worth of anger and resentment toward him and his family. Crucial aspects of your training were wiped from your mind when you saw his battered form. Your thoughts were only filled with heart-wrenching desperation as the blood dripped from his nose. He had made you weak, and that was something you would never allow yourself to be ever again.

"B-but..." he stammered, chin quivering, "I thought?"

"You thought wrong. The acts we committed as children were just that. It means nothing, meant nothing to me." The words spat like venom from your tongue, cutting Aegon to the quick. His eyes danced around the many alleyways, the thought of fleeing evident on his face. "Now, we only have a little longer on foot, and then we will arrive at the gates."

Aegon's feet shuffled as if to get comfortable, but you knew better. Judging by the letter the Queen had sent you, he was a flighty man, and you expected as much. You grabbed his arm before he could think, staring at his bedraggled face.

"And if you think of fleeing, know that I am not like the Kingsguard or the Watchman. There is not a whore house, cellar, or pub where I cannot find you. It would do you well to remember that." You yanked Aegon along with you, dragging him uphill toward the Red Keep, everything much easier this time. You were sure veins were protruding from your neck as you spoke to him, the area sore from where the man had attacked you.

He didn't fight. All thoughts of running were stopped and replaced with melancholy and defeat as bumbled behind you. Where had his little girl gone? Who had stolen your sweet words and gentle gestures, you had shown him not too long ago?

Aegon told himself this was not you. You were frustrated and angry with him for being cheeky when you were not in the mood. Most likely tired from the long ride from Dragonstone. That was why you lashed out, he reassured, not because you meant what you said. Mayhaps you have not remembered the tender moments you shared many years ago. Time and words from your father and mother could have contorted your memories into what you believed they were now. 

But in the end, he knew you were his, and buried deep down, rooted in the aspects of your soul you refused to avow, he was yours.

***

During the hour of the owl, you finally reached the front gate of the Keep. Aegon had completely sobered, seeming refreshed and ripe to begin a few hours of debauchery, but you, on the other hand, were not accustomed to forgoing hours of sleep.

You heard armor clanking as several guards appeared over the red stone wall, hands on their swords and spears.

"It is the Prince," one shouted as a stampede of metal footsteps echoed in the night, the large wooden gates opening.

A handful of guards went to you and Aegon, pausing momentarily as they finally noticed you. The silver accents on your clothes glinted in the moonlight, your braids loose from the hours of scouring the streets and hauling a certain princeling.

"Woman. Move from the Prince at once," a knight commanded as you glared at Aegon. "Wench! I command thee, move ten paces away from His Grace, or you will be moved."

Aegon refused to help you. For once, during this entire night, he kept his moronic mouth shut. Revenge for how you spoke to him earlier, you supposed. You looked at him in astoundment, your lip curling incredulously as you looked at the men. Indeed, they recognized you. You were not someone who could exactly be forgotten, the white streak in your hair.

"Cease!" A voice from behind the knights shouted. The guards moved out of his way, clearing a path for the man in pristine white armor. "This is the daughter of His Grace, Prince Daemon Targaryen! Have you men so semblance of intelligence to recognize the kin of the crown?"

You had to hide your shock as Ser Arryk Cargyll stood between you and the group of guards. His brother followed closely behind. He had grown further into the position of a Kingsguard. His light brown hair, you had remembered loose at his shoulder, was now slicked on the sides of his head into a knot, his beard longer with a slight curl to the collection of whiskers over his lip.

"Come, Princess," he said, gesturing with his hand, "I thank you for returning Prince Aegon without harm to the Red Keep. We will escort him to his chambers. I am certain the King and Queen will be pleased with both of your arrivals."

Aegon eyed Ser Ayyrk suspiciously. To everyone, even you, his words appeared respectful, but Aegon knew of the compassion Arryk extended to you during a vulnerable moment, soiling his love with the kind words of a simple knight.

"There is no need, Ser Arryk. I will return him," you replied, grabbing Aegon harshly on his upper arm. "I am expected an audience with the Queen upon my arrival with her son. Will you please alert her to my presence?"

"Yes, My Lady," he nodded curtly, his forearm over his breastplate as he turned.

You exhaled in relief once his back was turned, releasing Aegon's bicep, and rested your hands on your knees, preparing for what was to come. 

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I was today years old when I realized I'd been writing Aegon's title wrong. Please, bear with me while I change everything that includes his name. Why is she so mean to him? :( Like our sweet baby boy did nothing wrong other than get Lyra and Sara killed. I hope she doesn't find out because judging how this first encounter went, I don't think she'll be very forgiving.

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @adelusionalwriter, @sunny-boy-06

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[smallgronk]

This Community: A Love Letter <3

When I originally joined Tumblr, it was because reddit was being fucking dumb and I didn't want to support it. I had been a user for almost a decade and it really was frustrating to leave a platform I enjoyed so much. It turns out to have been one of the best things to ever happen to me. I went from a lurker to being active in a wonderful community here on Tumblr. I originally joined because I wanted to see the same memes I got from reddit, and I loved the horny vibe mixed in. It was right when I was beginning to explore myself for the first time in my life, rather than just floating along. When I got here, it took me a bit to find my feet, and holy shit was the effort worth it. I struggled with feeling like I was invading, but so many people took my hand and let me know I was welcome all the same. Whether I knew what I was or not, and because of that I was able to truly immerse myself fully in a vibrant queer community for the first time. I had plenty of interactions with many in the queer community before, but not from the inside like it happened here. I finally was able to figure out something that made me feel comfortable with myself. I realize in hindsight, I had never truly felt at peace. I suspected I might be trans before I came here, but I learned some of what being trans means to me in this place. I was content to leave the story at that! To have been grateful for the small kindnesses afforded to me by those around me. To start to try and help others see the same things I had my eyes opened to, and just move forward. And then this week happened, and it feels like my life is going to have a before and after. In a mere five days I have had so many things occur it takes me paragraphs to even glimpse the surface. Death, fear, bravery, exploration, romance, joy, and hope. I have experienced these things more deeply in a matter of days than I have in the last decades of my life as a guy. I have spent mere weeks as a girl on tumblr, a week in my house as a girl, have yet to try and be a girl in public, and I don't even think I consider myself a woman yet, but my life as a girl has felt like its almost just as long as the life I spent as a man. Its incredible. In the middle of this incredible, horrible, beautiful, and terrifyingly stressful week I didn't know how I was going to make it through each minute let alone get through each day. And then this silly little horny community reached out to me. Everywhere I turned I had people not just offer support when I complained, I had people reach out just to let me know they were there if I needed them. I'm so used to just shoving things down and dealing with it alone that I didn't even know how to accept this much help. Every time I had gotten everything shoved down again I had someone else reassure me that I was allowed to lean on them if I needed. It was incredible. It felt almost coordinated with how many people helped me. And I just don't think it's possible for me to express my love for everyone in this community who has helped me both this week, and in the time leading up to it. Those who have given me tips. Those who have helped me find myself. Those who have made me feel beautiful. Those who have let me lean on them when I needed to cry. Those who just let me know they would worry for me. @xenasaur @justaflatbitch @userwordandpassname @rosieeyes @crocadilly @latenitegirlluv @evergreen-femme @v10l3nt-gl1tch3s @tymera @godincarsnate-blog Thank you. I have already said words to some of you, but there is no chance it accurately gets across how much so many people here have meant for me in the little time I've spent. I have surely missed people here, so please don't think you don't matter if you haven't made the list. It's not just these few people. It's the entire community that gathers together and makes this kind of thing happen. Everyone has played a role in making such a lovely space what it is. Big hugs, much love- Jay

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 42 - Slaughterhouse Four

Rated M for language and violence.

Y'all meet the paladins again. It goes…about as well as expected.

On AO3.

Another small room with another door. This one already open. Astarion crouches down next to the frame, clinging to the shadows, face intent as he peers out. Then he glances to you, motions you over and places a finger over his still bloodied lips.

You ease over, walking toes-first, shifting your weight along the sides of your feet as smooth as you can. An inner balcony rings the second floor. Nobody is up here right now, but two voices talk in low tones below. It’s Fuck Off and Short Shit. Another guy leans against the wall by the front doors, cleaning his fingernails with a big fucking knife.

There were four of them. Astarion just killed the shit out of Kitchen Lurker, which should leave just these three.

You touch his shoulder. Motion, “Three?”

But he shakes his head. Shows four fingers. At your stares, taps his ear (looking way too amused) and points right below y’all’s feet.

Either they got reinforcements, or one of the fuckers was out when y’all first came by.

You don’t like this. If one more can pop out of the woodwork, who knows how many might be luring in the woods or a fucking basement.

They’re currently clustered in this main room. Karlach had hinted that they’d be tough, and you’d agree that anybody who can swing around that stupid fucking horse-killer sword probably ain’t somebody you want to tangle with.

A big fire pit hangs up like a chandelier. There’s bunks on the main floor, a screen, a desk, and a barrel near the door. It’s got the same fire symbol painted on that as the barrels you’d spotted outside yesterday.

“What is that?” you breathe.

Astarion leans in close enough his iron-drenched breath ruffles your ear (you absolutely do not shiver). “Lantern oil.”

They’re all so very close together down there…

The shining line hits so hard your eyes water and goosebumps ripple up your arms and across your chest.

You signal for you both to retreat.

This is gonna have to be fast and highly coordinated. Lurker had taken a long time between the first two patrols, but way, way shorter on this last one. Y’all will need to move.

The both of you scuttle back down the ladder and skedaddle to the roadblock. You pause a moment to glance back and yep, them barrels are still there.

The others spot you coming. Karlach looks alarmed.

“What the fuck,” she hisses as the two of you duck down to join them.

Oh, right. Astarion is a messy eater. In the daylight, his whole front is drenched from the nose down.

“He’s a vampire,” you say. “We ran into one of them, but she’s dead. Didn’t get to warn the others. There’s four in there. Karlach, you look real strong. Would you be able to chuck a whole barrel of oil lantern say, ten feet into the air?”

Everyone stares at you a hot second.

Karlach blinks through a handful of reactions, settles on a grin and a, “Fucking ‘course I can.”

she’s best girl

Shadowheart gives Astarion a very complicated look involving the most judgmental eyebrows you ever seen.

“This is gonna be the tricky part,” you say. Look to everybody. Fix on Astarion. “How good are you with that bow?”

“That depends on the target,” he says, you know, helpfully.

“Could an arrow open that barrel?”

“Perhaps if it was enchanted to thunder—oh. Oh, you delightful creature.” His fucking eyes almost glow above the red-lined grin that splits his face. He lets out the most murder-goblin giggle anybody ever produced.

“Am I missing something?” Karlach says.

Gale nods slowly. “A single, ordinary arrow wouldn’t produce the effect I believe you’re aiming for. You don’t actually have a thunderwave arrow, do you?”

“No,” Astarion says, still grinning. The man practically dances where he crouches. “Oh darling, this is going to be so fun.”

“I believe a thunderwave spell ought to cover it, then,” Gale says. “How do you intend to set it off? I’ll have to follow close behind Karlach, and I won’t have the time to conjure a fire bolt in addition to it.”

To which you look to Astarion. “The hanging firepit.”

He gives a bow. “I can absolutely provide, my dear.”

“Efficient,” Shadowheart says. Gives you a once over.

“Speak plain,” Lae’zel says.

So you do.

***

It’s the fastest and the slowest five minutes of your life. Karlach is practically hopping to go, with Lae’zel sneering on the outskirts of the group again. Y’all have moved up to the corner of the building, just out of sight should that bottom story side door open again.

Astarion strings his bow, draws and eases it, and checks his arrows. He can make the shot. You believe him; he’s shot well enough in the fights y’all’ve been in so far and he’s damn near frothing at the mouth in anticipation.

Karlach swings her arms a couple of times. Says to Gale, “I run real hot, yeah? I’ll have to grab it, sprint for the door, and throw it before I set it off.”

“I understand,” he says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Wyll and I will open those doors, and I’ll be standing by should it light off anyways,” Shadowheart says. She’s got her mace in one hand, but holds it as casually as anybody ever holds a mace. She seems more amused than nervous about this.

Astarion sets one foot on the stairs, ready tom sprint up and get to that inner balcony. But your gut gives a funny twist.

“Lae’zel,” you say. When she gives you a mean glare, “Are you quiet enough to go with Astarion?”

Astarion himself frowns. It’s a particularly bitchy frown, and when his mouth opens, you know it’s gonna be to gripe.

“I am well-trained in all forms of combat. Including stealth,” Lae’zel says, mouth curling around that last word like she bit into a rancid lemon.

“I hardly need a nanny,” Astarion says.

“They coulda moved around in the last few minutes,” you say. “I don’t want you getting cornered by yourself. Please.”

He shuts up so completely you wonder if you just offended the man. Then he looks away, clears his throat, and slaps on his more malicious grin. To Lae’zel,” Do see that you don’t give us away with all that rattling, dear.”

She glowers after him.

“You should probably stand back,” Wyll says. Poor man looks so resigned. Somebody with better people skills or social training’d probably know what to say; touch his arm, maybe, do something to reassure him and lift his spirits.

But they’re all stuck with your ass, and you can only nod and say, “Good luck.”

You stand out in the road, with the rotting carrion, as they form up. Wyll and Shadowheart by the door, stepping carefully over the severed limbs.

You catch Gale’s eye. Deadpan, “Why is the leg still in front of their door, Gale. Why. Why is that leg still there.”

He gives a kind of “yes, you were correct” shoulder roll and takes up position right behind Karlach next to the barrels.

You saw that movie Gladiator when you were in your twenties. You’d been on an Ancient Rome kick at the time. As you stood up on that balcony with Astarion, the image popped into your head.

A clay jar, filled with oil, topped with a burning rag. Catapulted into the air, tumbling end over end to smash into a tree and rain down fire on Gaul’s trying to protect their homes and people from a sadistic, all-consuming empire.

(What does that make you?)

The barrel ain’t a jar and will need something to smash it apart. Thus Gale and his spell.

He’s got this. Karlach seems confident, and Astarion will not miss.

Six people, all putting themselves in harm’s way on your word. It’d probably throw the whole thing off if you threw up over here in the road.

Time slows. You count to one hundred, the agreed-on mark. Astarion said he’d be in place (unless somebody went looking for Kitchen Lurker and found her slaughtered corpse). Karlach runs through a short regimen of stretches.

Wyll lifts a hand.

This is all your doing.

Drops it.

Everything speeds up so fast you almost can’t follow.

Karlach wrenches up the barrel. Turns to the door as smoke curls off her hands. Shadowheart and Wyll throw open both sides of the door and somebody inside yelps. Gale’s voice goes echo-y, talking fast, the air pressure drops so fast your ears pop.

One of the fake paladins (probably Short Shit) is fast on the draw; an arrow catches Shadowheart in the hand as she withdraws.

But Karlach charges up the stairs, eyes huge, grin bearing her fangs. Hits the landing and twirls herself and the barrel. Fucking launches the thing and shouts, “What’s up, motherfuckers?!”

Gale moves. Purple light flares. Less than a second later and a bone-shuddering blast kicks through your ribcage.

The barrel blasts apart. Gallons of lantern oil aerosolize as something drops from the ceiling. The bowl of fire plummets into the flammable mist.

The room combusts. A ball of fire so bright and so hot it prickles your face roars through the tollhouse. Your crew ducks back, except for Karlach who takes it head on, cackling the whole time.

You drop and cover your head. Blink when the heat recedes into cold.

The tollhouse is on fire. Black smoke billows into the sky. Through the door is solid, roiling flame. Nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound.

If they were lucky, Gale’s spell knocked them out and the blast caught them on an inhale and scorched their windpipes shut. If they were lucky, they never knew what hit them. It they weren’t…

“Should we put that out?” Shadowheart says.

You don’t want to start a forest fire. You start to nod.

And then there’s a shout inside. The tone grabs you buy the spinal cord, sends an electric jolt through your chest. You know that voice.

Astarion.

Then a reptilian roar. Metal crashing and shrieking.

Oh god, oh fuck.

Shadowheart raises her hands—snapped the arrow off but part still sticks through her palm and she grits her teeth and keeps going. She’s chanting, but you’re already off and around the side, bolting for the stairs. Footsteps pound after you and it’s Wyll. You hit the stairs, start up, and a flash of white hair above.

Astarion practically slides down the ladder. His face is covered in soot, he’s hacking, and an alarming amount of blood slicks down from a gash above his eye.

None of y’all get a chance to do nothing but spot each other. Because somebody else staggers out onto that patio. Hair gone, charred to hell, his armor smoking. Fuck Off has gone whole-body Harvey Dent. He stands up there, looks down at y’all, and then fucking launches himself into the air.

You got no time to do more than register how bad that’s gonna fuck his knees. Then the fucker lands—the impact should break his legs and shoved his femurs up into his pelvis to shish kabob his intestines. But he hauls himself up and that fuck off sword flashes in the light and oh.

He’s aiming at you.

A tug on your collar. You fall back. Movement above and around you as Wyll barely deflects the blow that woulda chopped you clean in half. But Harvey Dent is some sorta terminator on his last death match, and he don’t even slow. Just takes the parry, uses the momentum to spin that fucking blade around to come back down on Wyll. And there ain’t no way Wyll’s rapier is going to block that kinda momentum.

You think you scream. Your throat hurts. Wyll starts to dodge but everything is so fast—

A green and silver blur tackles Harvey Dent clean off the stairs. Lae’zel plows him face first into the hard-packed dirt before she has to tuck and roll and come up on her feet.

Harvey Dent still don’t slow. He’s up and swinging. Lae’zel’s fuck off sword has an easier time swatting his first strike off to the side before she sorta rides it up and damn near spears him through the eye.

Wyll shouts. A red flash and energy boils over Harvey Dent’s barbequed face. He staggers. Nearly drops his sword. Lae’zel comes in for a neck shot and he leans back. She misses. He brings a forearm up to pin her fucking blade. She’s got less than a second to figure out how to—

She drops the sword. Kicks out at his knee. He staggers, does not go down, and she ain’t got no sword. Wyll staggers next to you, clutching his side where that fucking sword caught him and opened his skin down to the ribs. Astarion is hunched over, clutching both his knives.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fu—

“Eat shit fucker!”

Red. A scream that lifts every hair on your body. Heat washes over you as a flaming fucking meteor plows into Harvey Dent. Karlach don’t even have her ax. She just grabs his wrist. Head butts him in the face. Takes his own sword and clubs the side of his head with it before she flings it to the side.

Her arm wraps around his neck. He still ain’t making any noises, though his feet kick as she hefts him up. Grabs the side of his face and—

She rips his head off. Clean off, like pulling off a drumstick from a Thanksgiving turkey. Except with a lot more blood.

“Bye bye, asshole!” she hollers, and lets the body fall.

You’re on your ass on the porch, popped up on your elbows. Wyll carefully slides down the wall of the tollhouse. Astarion grimaces and spits ash out of his mouth while Lae’zel reclaims her sword and she’s limping on her left knee.

Which is when Karlach, still grinning, lifts the head and screams in the slackened face. “I’m never going back, you sack of shit!”

The air from her lungs is hot enough to curl the bits of flesh still on Harvey Dent.

“I am never! Going the fuck back!”

And she cackles. Drops the head and crunches his face beneath her boot. And then stomps over to where she apparently dropped her ax.

“Never! Never! That bitch is never, ever taking me!”

And she sort of bursts into flame and storms into the still-burning tollhouse to go on some kinda blood lust rampage.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[justhere4thevibez]

Happy ficiversary, babe! To launch more of your gorgeous fic into the Hellcheer fandom, have a prompt:

Eddie and Chrissy's first date! Maybe even the drive there, like Eddie is super nervous and he doesn't realise Chrissy is too, so they have a quick kiss to calm themselves 😉 Or the date itself!

Aww thank you!!! This is such a cute prompt!!! Here you go:

Honestly? Eddie fucking hated first dates.

Like, intellectually, he knew they were necessary. Without a first date you couldn’t get a second date, let alone a third. But the first date was always a goddamn nightmare. You didn’t know them, and they didn’t know you, and the more you liked the other person the dumber you acted.

Or maybe that was just him.

And fuck, he really liked this girl. At least, he liked the way she texted, and that was saying something. They’d been texting for approximately four days, and for the last three days and twenty-three hours he’d been dying to meet her. And yet he was also goddamn terrified.

By the time he went to pick up his date, his hands were sweaty and he was somehow cold and hot, which should be physically impossible. Yet here he was, Eddie Munson, eighth wonder of the world about to die from both hypothermia and heatstroke. Truly, he was a marvel.

He pulled up to their designated pickup spot (a coffee shop, which was very sensible of his mystery girl) and immediately regretted not taking Steve up on his offer to borrow the car. What chick in her right mind would get in his van? None, probably. And he was over dating crazies. Mostly.

But before long, the cutest little redhead walked hesitantly over to his lurker-esque van and tapped timidly on his window.

“Eddie?” she asked, tilting her head to the side like she didn’t quite know what to make of him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, doing his best to give her a not-creepy smile. What even made a smile creepy? Fuck if he knew. “Chrissy?”

“That’s me,” she said, gripping the strap of her purse tightly.

Goddamn, she was beautiful. He’d hoped she was—and he was already so enamored that it didn’t particularly matter to him what she looked like—but fuck. Big blue eyes, pink cheeks that he wanted to fucking bite (he wouldn’t, but oh how they tempted him), and she was wearing this cute little pink dress that tickled her thighs, showing her legs off in a goddamn delectable way.

She was so fucking far out of his league.

And yet she was already hopping into his van and buckling her seatbelt. Honestly, the fact that she hadn’t run screaming from his shitty van and weird-ass style (he liked it, but nobody else ever did) was a bit of a shock.

Think of something to say, his brain screamed at him as he drove to the restaurant he hoped to god would impress her—or at least be good enough that she’d want a second date.

“You’re pretty,” he finally blurted out.

Immediately, he wanted to slam his head into the steering wheel. Goddamn understatement of the year. Chrissy was a goddess in human form, fucking Tinúviel of the modern age, and he’d called her pretty? His head should be on a damn chopping block.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, sounding surprised. “You, too.”

She clapped her hand to her mouth as he let out a startled laugh. He’d been called many things over the years—most of them highly unflattering—but pretty? That was a new one.

“I’m sorry,” she said, covering her flaming cheeks with her hands. “I didn’t mean that, I—I’m just nervous. It’s, uh, been a while.”

“No, no, no take-backs,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “I’m officially pretty.” He pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and once he put the van in park he turned to her. “Just so you know, I’m nervous, too.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “But you’re so—”

She waved a hand in his general direction as though to encompass his entire aesthetic.

“Yeah, no,” he said, getting out and running around to open her door. “I’m fucking terrified of you.”

“Me?” she asked, offering him a confused smile.

“Yeah, you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch. “I really like you, and I really don’t want to mess this up.”

“Oh.” She reached up to catch his hand before he could pull away. “I’m not really that scary. Is—is there anything that would help?”

“A kiss might make it all better,” he said, then slapped a hand to his forehead. Fucking idiot. “Shit, I didn’t—”

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him more effectively than any insult ever had.

“I think I can help with that,” she whispered, biting her lip.

“You—you do?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

“Uh huh.” She tilted his face toward her. “Want me to make it all better?”

“God, please,” he whispered.

She lifted up on her tiptoes, her dress billowing in the evening air, and pressed her soft lips to his. Their kiss was brief and chaste, and fuck he’d never loved anything more. He fucking whined when she pulled away, and she giggled, the sound as sweet as her lips had been.

“Don’t worry,” she said, interlacing her fingers in his and pulling him toward the restaurant. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

[palskippah]

i know that this is excessively corny but one of my all-time favourite headcanons is toadsworth and princess peach having a father-daughter relationship, your post about those two literally made my heart explode i love it so so much it's the cutest thing ever 😭😭❤️ idk how asks fully work/the rules of how to submit one since I'm just a tumblr lurker but i at least wanted you to know how much i loved it bc i keep going back to it, so thank you!!

HI OH MY GOD? :'''V 💞💞💞💞

I'm so happy you like it!! It's not corny it's just the sweetest thing 😭 their father-daughter relationship is genuinely so nice bc I remember the partners in time game and that Toadsworth was all worried taking care of baby Peach (I think, I haven't played the game nor seen any play-throughs skjdksjf) and that he usually is all worried in games where Peach's an adult and she's in trouble :'''y

And the part where he says 'give me one last smile, before I leave' or something along those lines when old Toadsworth (maybe? my memory's awful sdjskdj) is saying bye to baby Peach, and I don't know that made me go :'''u like he truly cares so much whhewjw

AND when fathers are all like :''''v because their daughters are grown up and stuff but to their eyes they'll always be their little girls, I love that thing when it goes in movies or series aksdjaksd BUT Toadsworth gotta accept that Peach is a woman now and I know I put this already in the post but he's happy to see her grown into the woman she is currently and aksjdasd

Summary, I love their relationship too so much 🧍cries

[catluvver118]

Intro

I've been a long time lurker, just lacking the confidence to join in alot...Lately all of @callivich posts of encouragement for new fans and lurkers like myself has got me wanting to be more active. I lack the skills to write or make gifs but am so appreciative of everyones efforts in this fandom. It brings me such joy each day when I open up my tumblr and see all of your talented creations.

So I decided to do the intro......

Name: Trish

Age: Old

What made you fall in love with Gallavich? I was late to the fandom. I started watching Shameless during Covid and binge watched the first 9 seasons in 2 months. It was tougth to then have to wait for the last two seasons. It's hard to explain what I first liked about them but they just made me happy. I loved watching them together. They were raw and real and not perfect.

How long have you been a fan? Fan since 2020

Favourite Gallavich Moment / Scene ? This is so hard! what to pick? I like the dugouts scene when Mickey gets out of Juvie - the way they flirt and look at each other. I love the way their eyes roam all over each other in the bleachers scene in Season 7. I love all of their kisses.... I could keep going.

Favourite Shameless character apart form Ian and Mickey? I think Kev. He has some great dialogue with different characters in the show.

Do you write or draw or make edits? No I'm afraid. That is not where my talents lie. But I absolutely love all of the talented people in this fandom and their creations.

Favourite type of Gallavich fics? This has changed over time. I was very rigid when I started reading fics and thought I would only like certain types. Over time as I saw more and more recs (thank you @gallavichfanficlibrary ) I tried all types and fell in love.I love a good slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers fic.

Favourite Gallavich quote? "I wanna be where you are Mickey" , "I love you", "I know, I love you too"

Anything else you'd like to share about yourself? Not much to say, I'm a simple girl. I guess just that even though I am a lurker I really do appreciate this fandom. It genuinely got me through Covid, living on my own. It also brings me such joy every day.

[badassbutterfly1987]

*laughs in helpless delight* Well, we were just talking about the "Holland stabbing via trap" scenario and you got "mugging" on your Bingo, which *close enough* Here is your excuse to write, should you be inclined ;)

(pre-canon, injury, Holland + Vortalis, pre-relationship

prompt: mugging)

The girl was young, maybe eight or nine years of age. Big brown eyes looking up at him. She held out a small silver bracelet. “My sister’s hurt. Help her, please.”

He hesitated. It was late in the evening, close to sunset. He was closer to the Shal than the Kosik; at least in the latter he had a better chance of trusting in his old community. Even so.

Holland remembered being this young with Alox. He remembered being alone after that as well. She was just a child. He could heal most injuries. “Alright, show me where she is.”

The girl scampered away and he followed a few paces behind. They ducked into an alleyway, out of sight of the main street.

Then she scrambled through a small hole in the wall, slipping out of sight. The trick registered just before he saw the men approaching from the other end and heard the scuff of shoes behind him.

Perhaps he should have been angry at the setup or at least shocked, but instead all he felt was disappointed as he reached for his magic.

...

Had it been a more typical mugging, Holland might have been willing to toss over the handful of coins he had with him. But of course, they wanted his blood and his power. He limped away once his attackers either ran off or were left crumpled on the ground; not dead but beaten enough to be discouraged from further attacks.

He had been outnumbered. One of them had had a garrote and had managed to slip it around his neck in an attempt to silence any blood spells; his throat still ached. Blood dripped down his side even with a hand applying pressure. Worst of all, the fight had drained his magic.

An Antari always looked like a threat or a target but he was even more aware of it now. It was getting dark and shelter was far away. Little surprise that some lurkers were always nearby, perhaps waiting to see what kind of fight he could still offer. They’d tear him apart if they could; if he was lucky, they’d kill him quickly before harvesting what they could. Vortalis would be disappointed if his potential weapon went out like that.

That was an option, Holland realized. Even though they’d stuck to meetings at the Scorched Bone, Vortalis had mentioned the current location of his headquarters in the Shal. It wasn’t too far away. He just had to take the gamble that Vortalis or one of his followers wouldn’t use the opportunity to hurt him; perhaps they would conclude a dead Antari would be more useful.

There was only one way to find out.

...

Sometimes Lane questioned his life choices. Like the fact that he followed a man obsessed with becoming king. Like the fact that they were trying to charm an Antari who was still playing coy about his allegiance, as if Vor’s mission didn’t depend on absolute mutual loyalty. Or the fact that aforementioned Antari was banging on their front door like a madman and Vortalis said sure, why not let him in?

But this was the path Lane had chosen so he opened the goddamned door. The Antari didn’t even bother to say hello first. “Where is Vortalis?”

“Inside,” he said curtly. “Were you followed and how many?”

“I wasn’t counting. Possibly enough to kill me.” Even though the Antari tried to stand tall, it was clear he was exhausted and bleeding. He looked about as threatening as a half-drowned rat; unless he was very good at acting pathetic, he wasn’t here as an assassin.

There was probably a mob of unknown size on his tail. Gods, the things he did for his future king.

"Just get in here."

...

“You know, Holland, when I said you could visit, I didn’t mean come with a blood trail behind you,” Vortalis said lightly.

It spoke to the Antari’s exhaustion that he let Vor wrap an arm around his waist to keep him on his feet as they made their way to a couch.

“It wasn’t my intention,” he said quietly. “I won’t be a bother for more than a night.”

“Oh you aren’t a bother. This would make for the most exciting thing to happen tonight.” Vortalis wasn’t opposed to a fight; it would make for a good break from staring at castle floorplans. He fetched a roll of bandages from the nearest drawer. “Remove your shirt so I can see how bad the damage is.”

Holland didn’t move from where he sat. “I can bandage my own wounds.”

Gaining Holland’s trust was much like appealing to a hungry street cat expecting violence. Which meant slow steps of constantly reiterating that he wasn’t an enemy. Vortalis handed the supplies over. “I’ll be in the room across the hall if you need anything. Try to get some rest.”

“What’s the catch?” Holland gripped the bandage tightly.

Agreeing to kill the king for him would be appreciated but Vortalis knew to play nice. “Try not to start a fight with one of my friends. We can talk more in the morning.”

[ohwhatagloomyshow]

Scarlet Hollow ask game

tagged by @morgloom. I am tagging: whoever wants to do this! It’s a free for all! I am also mostly a lurker in the fandom so I was delighted to be tagged in the first place :)

TRAITS:

Your "canon" trait combination? booksmart/keen eye! i play as my idealized self, which is just an introverted nancy drew

What third trait would you add for hardcore mode? i love talk to animals a lot, i love the additional characterization you get from it! i also love friend dustin.

What trait are you least drawn to? this is an unpopular opinion but street smarts? i don't think i've given it enough individual time and attention because whenever i think about it i'm just like, that's just keen eye and i already have keen eye. i know it's not keen eye but my brain is broken in that mode of thinking!

Coolest trait? i like keen eye a lot! i like the idea of just being a really observant stranger in this new-to-you town. you just show up and have an instant read on everybody and their problems.

ROMANCE:

Who are you romancing? canon run is nobody! i am here for tabitha!!! but i think i like avery the most, generally. or dr. kelly >:)

What romance are you least interested in? another unpopular opinion, stella! i appreciate that she's Best Girl but it's really a tribute to the writing and her character work that i find her kinda annoying!

Who would you romance if every single character was eligible? it's tabitha and i'm only a little bit sorry about it.

MISCELLANEOUS:

What character would hurt you the most if something bad happened to them? TABITHA. as booksmart i get to avoid her making the sacrifice (i've only gotten that ending ONCE and i've done so, so many playthroughs lol) but i'm certain more terrible things are coming for my girlfailure. i just want to take her to the beach!!!

Would you stay in Scarlet Hollow when the week is over? i think so, yeah! someone mentioned in a post a while ago how much it works that our character has no contacts in the town we've just left, and i like to think about my oc's life improving by being in her mother's hometown surrounded by brand new and really strong friendships. (assuming there's a Nobody Dies ending.) i think there would be something beautiful about really honoring the victims of your ancestors - and tbh your cousin - by committing yourself to righting those wrongs in town. but maybe that means the estate collapses and the mine goes out of business! i don't know! i am rambling! but the answer is yes i'd stay in scarlet hollow, more importantly i'd say with my new friends and cousin.

Who would you vote for dog mayor? i really need to revisit ep 4 with talks to animals because i nearly missed the dog mayor convos and definitely didn't take proper advantage of the info learned there! i have to default to gretchen because i can't remember the other dogs :(

[sezja]

Febuwhump Day 27: Survivor's Guilt Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Nerise & Ardbert Triggers/Content warnings: Shadowbringers spoilers

"I thought you were lying, you know."

Nerise is getting used to these little intrusions on her privacy; she supposes Ardbert's got nothing better to do. Haunting sounds dull. Given the chance, she can't deny she'd follow around the only person who could see and hear her, too. Still, it's been a long damn day - what with bringing the entire night sky back to Lakeland and the Crystarium and all - and she'd just as soon get some sleep...

With a sigh, she rolls back over, facing the ghost in her room.

He stands at the window, as she knew he would. She's left it open, the better to let in the dark. Overhead, the sky is clear as can be, alight with the gentle twinkling of stars instead of the blaze of eternal primordial Light. I did that, she thinks, marveling at it all over again. I did that...

"Lying," she repeats, sitting up. She doesn't bother to cover up; if he wants modesty, the sneaky lurker can go someplace else. "About where I came from, you mean?"

"When you came from." He starts to turn around, and realizes she's not dressed; he turns back to the window. His ears start to turn pink. "Ah-" He clears his throat. "We... we thought it was an act, all of us. As though we had room to talk, eh? Hailing from another world as we did. What's a thousand some-odd years?"

A thousand some-odd years. An entire war had been waged while she and Sohl Amh were adrift in time.

She rubs her drowsy eyes. "Aye, well. Stupid thing to lie about, isn't it?"

"Adventurers lie about their achievements and backgrounds every day," Ardbert points out, a wry smile in his voice. "Inflating their achievements to win free drinks at the pub. Lying about where they're from to charm a girl into a dance. It's part of the business, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"For some." He turns again, keeping his eyes resolutely on her face. "Then again, you already had a dragon at your beck and call, eh? Maybe you never needed to tell tall tales - the ones you were living couldn't get much taller."

She thinks of Sohl Amh with a pang; leaving them behind on the Source had been like leaving her heart behind. They would have loved it here... and she would have liked to have their counsel; there is so much about this world she wishes she could speak to her life-long companion about-

The smile on Ardbert's weary face fades. "Did I say something wrong?"

Damn it all. "No." Nerise hesitates. Milla once said it was easier to speak truths at night; the shadows kept secrets well. And who's Ardbert going to tell, anyway? She's sick to death of trying to be strong here, with no Sohl Amh to hear her doubts and fears and questions. She takes a deep breath. Sighs. "It... this world, it..."

He waits. He's had a hundred years of blind, ceaseless wandering to temper his impulsiveness; he can wait a few minutes while she gathers her thoughts.

At last, she manages, "It... reminds me of Dravania, a bit."

"Dravania," he repeats, surprised. "How so?"

She stands, wrapping a blanket around herself against the night's chill, and joins him at the window. "It's... all these ruins, all these lingering traces of a glorious past. You... you remember when those ruins at Laxan Loft were a thriving kingdom-"

"Ah."

"And even this place - the Crystarium? It's built on old bones, like... like Bahrr Lehs, restored by the moogles. You look at those ruins, and all you see is... is-"

"Is what I failed to save."

"Is what you failed to save." She thumps a fist on the windowsill, throat tight. "And it's like that everywhere, isn't it? Everywhere we go, we'll find old cities you weren't there to save, and you'll remember the people who were there..."

Milla...

Ardbert can't touch her, of course, but he rests his own fist on the windowsill beside hers. "As I understand it," he says, quietly. "The world as you knew it came to an end a hundred years or so after you vanished. Time and more for you to have been dead and gone, Nerise. I was here. I caused this world's destruction."

"There might have been something I could have done," she persists. "Something I could have done to change the course of history. Something."

He's quiet, letting her simmer in it. She leans forward, resting her forehead against her fist. She doesn't godsdamned want to be comforted; she wants him to see why this world and everything about it burns her worse than dragonfire. It's like breathing life back into a corpse. But if she doesn't do all she can to beat back the Light... well. She remembers Urianger's vision. She, her friends, even Sohl Amh, extinguished like so many candles, and the world gone dark in their absence.

Saint Shiva, preserve me.

She straightens, heaving a heavy sigh. "Maybe I can change the course of the future here, at least."

But when she turns, Ardbert has vanished, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

[lindszeppelin]

Long time lurker, first time asker… what IS the deal with the Gerbers?

I know Rande was sued for sexual harassment. I know Kaia was tied up in some effed up cops and robbers game and that whole situation. I know how Presley turned out. Kaia looked sick (drugs or ED) for a while. Allegedly Cindy isn’t the nicest human. I know the rumors about George Clooney. What else though?

I’ve always thought something was really wrong with this family but I have trouble putting my finger on it. Then I saw a pic of C&K with the Kardashian Klan and a lightbulb started to go off. It feels like the Gerbers wanna go in that direction and chase fame and that’s a big part of why they feel off for me. Is there other dirt though? Should you publish this, any followers have any dirt or tea they wanna share on this blog? Someone said on Reddit Kaia was an entitled bitch at a restaurant they worked at but not a ton of personal stories I’ve seen otherwise. Kaia seems sweet enough, but I also think there’s a mask that will drop eventually and I can’t let that feeling go.

All gossip forums, including here and on Twitter casually mention knowingly that this family is effed up, and while I believe it sometimes I feel like I’m missing some of the information too- if that makes sense.

Am I missing any info? Help a girl out figure out why I think this family is extra creepy and dysfunctional in a sea of plenty of weirdos in Hollywood who don’t give me the same “ick factor”.

I haven't dived deep into the Gerber/Crawford lore but I know enough to say that I would not trust that family with anything lol, especially when it comes to career, dating, and social advice they may want to give. It just feels like Cindy Crawford is still trying to stay relevant since her 90s heyday, and she's doing that through her children. Trying to get them into modeling at young ages. And Presley lashed out bigtime. I know he's doing some Mental Health Awareness thing on his instagram and i applaud him for that. But I kinda wish he brought more substance to those vids. Both him and Kaia are sooooo unprofessional when it comes to that format of content (ie. Kaia and her bookclub and her not offering anything of substance in them).

I would not be surprised at all if they wanna go down a Kardashian type route. That entire family knows how to run Hollywood and I think Cindy fancies herself as a Kris.

Rande Gerber just seems like a fuckwad weirdo. They way he treats not only his own daughter but other women is sick and I get bad vibes from that man whenever I see him. I remember it was going around, a weird post he made on insta about Kaia, and the caption reads, and i quote " We used to have this thing we would say together when she was growing up that went like this. “I have big brown eyes and a cute little figure, stay away boys til I get a little bigger” ". Like...HUH. A cute little figure?! Who tf says that about their minor daughter.

Aside from the things you've mentioned, I haven't heard of anything else (sans the whole Harry Styles linked with Rande Gerber too). And frankly the more I learn about this family the more I want to throw myself over a cliff.

[diagonal-queen]

Um hiya! I really like your work and I think you are pretty cool! I was wondering how one would become mutuals with you? Im really kinda socially awkward and more of a lurker, but I’m trying to branch out and be more social! Im only mutuals with one other person (I’m very shy) and we started chatting because of our cats and they generally bring happiness and good vibes so meet my cat Loki! He’s partially blind and has film over his eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to steal everyone’s food.

I’m really into BSD right now and would love someone to chat about it with since I don’t know many people who are fans irl. I’ve even started writing for it recently and realized how much Dazai is a pain in the ass to write!!! It’s really hard making this silly goofy man both baby girl and mysterious man™️ at the same damn time. 😓 I think I may have girlbossed too close to the sun with this one since im only on my first chapter and I have 14 already planned out…. And that’s barely halfway through…. Sigh. Quite a way to start writing for a series, huh.

Anyway! I would love to chat with you!

AYO I SEEN YOU IN THE NOTIFS OMGGGGGGG hiiii (〃∀〃)ゞ

ALL YOU GOTTA DO IS ASK FR!! and of course i'll be moots with you ^-^ dw i'm socially awkward as fuck too. i just pretend not to be because when im on the internet i really just pull a thanos and think 'reality can be whatever i want'. thank you for initiating though i appreciate it and im very proud of you!

LOKI IS SO FUCKIN CUTE IMMA STEAL HIM jokes i wont steal him. theft is a crime i reserve for the 1%. but i love him okay know this. he adorable as FUCK please cuddle that cat on my behalf. and oh nooooooo it would be so bad if you sent me more pictures of loki aaaaaaa im scared noooooooooooooo

man i'm super into bsd as well. i've been hyperfixated on this shit for six months now and i honestly don't see it stopping any time soon. like i've been obsessed with stuff in the past but like...i got a feeling about this one. this one is THE thing ya feel me? also i honestly don't mind writing for dazai the dude i have an issue with is KUNIKIDA he's so hard for me for some reason. what if we...did some type of kunidazai collab piece sometime...😳👉👈

also 14 chapters already? deadass impressive (to me anyway, since i literally make shit up as i go lmao) but back in the day...oh boy. you shoulda seen me in my kpop phase. i was planning literal serialised novels dude. dark times...*shudder*

feel free to pop into my dms and i'll be there to chat!

in the meantime have one of my favourite memes

[automatismoateo]

Homophobic black people (especially religious ones) are very hypocritical. via /r/atheism

Homophobic black people (especially religious ones) are very hypocritical. If this post doesn't belong here, please let me know better places to post this! 🙏🏾 I have extreme criticism towards the black community as a black girl myself from the US. Let's jump right into it. Black people who are homophobic don't realize how hypocritical they really are. Why are they hypocritical? Simple. It's because they sound eerily similar to the bullshit that racist white people say about black people. Some examples of the stupid shit homophobic black people say are “I don’t have anything against gay people. I just don’t see why they have to be in our face about it”, "I'm not homophobic, I have gay friends", "I love and accept gay people. I just don't want my child to be gay", etc. If you replace the word gay with black, then the rhetoric is the same. What's also interesting is that homophobic black people use the Bible as justification of being homophobic. What did/do racist white people use as justification of racism and slavery? The fucking Bible!! And before all of you lurkers (religious or otherwise) say that the Bible/God doesn't condone slavery, yes it does. Ephesians 6:5 - "Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ. Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but like slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart." 1 Peter 2:18 - "Slaves, in reverent fear of God submit yourselves to your masters, not only to those who are good and considerate, but also to those who are harsh." Anyways, continuing on. Some homophobic black people will really say that black issues are more important than LGBTQ issues and their reasoning is because "people can hide being gay, but they can't hide being black." or they say "You're born black". Their dumbasses forget that gay black people exist. Whatever laws that targets gay people are inevitably gonna target them, too. It's an issue that effects damn near everybody. One shouldn't be more important than the other because both have negative effects on people for something they can't control. You would think black people would know what it feels like to be harassed and terrorized just for being themselves, and yet they're doing it with no shame to other people. It's just sad and irritating how the cycle continues to repeat. Submitted June 15, 2024 at 03:39AM by SamuraiPanda3AMP (From Reddit https://ift.tt/Bkpxnba)