#learn what words mean ffs

[jilyandbambi]

labels like psychopathy and sociopathy are too hastily ascribed to Shauna Shipman not least of all because, A) all of the #unhinged behaviors & actions we've seen from her are more accurately attributable to a combination of 1) PTSD, 2) post-partum depression, 3) grief, 4) arrested development

AND-- more importantly insofar as it concerns definitions:

B) the key hallmarks of antisocial personality disorder (the clinical term for sociopathy/psychopathy) distinguishing it from mere jerkass behavior are 1) lack of remorse/regret or guilt for past actions, 2) inability to feel empathy* for others.

*empathy: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another

two things Shauna is not are unempathetic and unable to feel remorse.

From the moment we meet Shauna as a kid she's writhing in guilt, and--I would argue--empathy. The whole reason she can't bring herself to tell Jackie she's planning on going to Brown is that she knows the disappointment will devastate Jackie and she doesn't want to hurt her best friend's feelings. Yes, she resents herself and especially Jackie for this but Shauna's empathy is what paralyzes her and keeps her from being honest.

Adult Shauna is just as capable of remorse/guilt and empathy:

When Tai shows up at her house and confides in her that she's started sleepwalking again, without Tai even having to ask, Shauna invites her to spend the night and promises to watch over her

after Callie shares with her how Shauna's unwillingness to discuss her past has deeply hurt Callie, Shauna acknowledges how her inability to confront her trauma has hurt her child and immediately tries to make amends by giving Callie what she needs and opening up.

And this is without getting into how Shauna's immense guilt and shame over her actions in the wilderness compelled her to punish herself post-rescue by not going to Brown (her dream school) and instead transforming her life into a living memorial to her dead friend.

Even adult Shauna's most violent action--killing Adam--wasn't an act of cold-blooded murder but rather happened as a result of PTSD-induced psychosis, as evidenced by her hallucinating that her journals are missing from the safe in the first place, and the flash to teen Shauna right after she guts him. She wasn't in her right mind. Does that excuse her? No. But killing someone during a bout of psychosis brought on by untreated PTSD is not the same as intentionally killing someone to solve a problem or in a fit of rage.

Is Shauna a violent person? Yes. Is she a selfish person? Yes. Is she self-destructive? Yes. Does she often behave irresponsibly and inappropriately? Yes. Is she dangerous? YES. But these qualities don't make her a psychopath. She's got too much empathy and is too burdened by guilt to have APD.

Shauna Shipman is what 2 1/2 decades of untreated PTSD & PPD + unresolved grief does to a person

[axl-fox]

Next person I see calling Capsaicin a himbo is gonna catch these hands son.

[not-a-space-alien]

I've seen a lot of "You have to communicate directly/don't expect other people to read your mind" posts going around tumblr lately and while I really do appreciate them because it's a skill a LOT of people need to work on, I do want to remind everyone to please meet people halfway sometimes.

I recently read a story on Reddit about a guy's pregnant wife texting him "I'm craving donuts but we don't have any in the house 😔" and he DIDN'T stop to pick up donuts on the way home from work. Everyone was taking his side because "she needs to communicate" and "he's not a mind reader" and "How was he supposed to know she wanted him to get donuts???" People, ffs, why on earth would she text him that while he was at work if not because she wanted him to get donuts? I was flabbergasted everyone was taking his side. "How was he supposed to know??" What? Like yeah it's true she didn't say "I want you to get me donuts" with those exact words in that exact order but the reason why people get upset if they hint they want you to do something and you don't do it is because they feel like you don't care about them and aren't actively thinking about their feelings. Especially in a marriage or LTR they are in a situation where the assumption is you care about filling the other person's needs.

Someone who loves and cares about someone will get the donuts "without being asked" just because their partner expresses a want or need. That's what someone is fishing for when they say "Aaaah I'm craving donuts 🥺🥺🥺" It's less about the donuts and more about feeling cared for. Sometimes straight up asking "Can you get me donuts?" defeats the purpose.

Also, women are typically socialized to communicate this way because they're punished socially for being too direct. I've heard that people of color, especially black people, often do this too because they're likely to be branded as "aggressive" if they're too direct with white people. So it might be a good idea to be a bit intersectional if we're trying to encourage people to be more direct.

Take the stereotypical example of a wife gets a new haircut and then gets upset that the husband doesn't notice. She's not literally mad at him for not saying the exact words "I like your new haircut." She's upset because she feels like he doesn't look at her and appreciate the efforts she's putting in anymore.

Obviously this will vary widely depending on the nature of your relationship with someone, but especially when it comes to intimate partnerships, there are certain things your significant other should not have to tell you directly. It's probably safe to assume your wife or husband wants a birthday present even if they don't ask for it. It's probably safe to assume your bf or gf would appreciate a valentine's day present or a compliment without them having to literally ask for it, unless they explicitly say otherwise.

This is difficult for a lot of neurodivergent people to learn manually if it's not instinctual and they didn't learn it growing up (lord knows I didn't) and yes, it's true that most people (especially NT people) should learn to communicate more directly. But also, your relationships would probably benefit from learning to read indirect cues and just pick up the donuts on the way home because you heard your wife is craving them. Sometimes what someone wants is for you to think about what they're feeling and what they want and do it without them asking directly. It's up to you whether or not you do that, but sometimes that is asking. I think this is what people generally mean when they say their partner is "thoughtful."

[filmbyjy]

husband ff Jake??

OUR LOVE

a/n: ahhh i’m trying to finish past requests and i’m sorry this took too long 😭 i didn't want to write a too long of a story so this is just a small one. it is also crack bc i was not in my right state of mind to focus 😭

WARNING: mentions of pregnancy, talking about sex and stuff. no smut bc i can't write it anyways.

“come on noona! it will be fun! travelling around the world with us and of course jake hyung.” sunoo excitedly exclaims.

you could see the excitement that the other boys had. especially, the boy who had his hands placed on your thighs. “please, baby? take it like another honeymoon until we actually have time for one.” jake pouts.

“oh, yeah. we could walk around and show noona some of the places we’ve been too!” jungwon says.

“I don’t know guys…I feel like I would be intruding. after all, I’m not part of enhypen.”

“but you are part of ‘our family’. besides, you and jake hyung are married!” ni-ki says.

you looked at the other boys for reassurance and they seemed okay with it but you still felt bad. they’d have to get an extra ticket if you came along with them and ENGENEs probably didn’t want to see you in their content.

ever since you and jake got married, there had been quite a lot of death threats sent to you. it was so bad to the point that enhypen’s legal team had to step in on behalf of you. despite having a legal team to help you with any threats, it still didn’t stop. you couldn’t even really leave the house without being recognised in the streets and some ‘engene’ yelling at you for stealing their idol from them.

it definitely didn’t help now that you’re pregnant. which was a surprise for jake (and the boys). this is also why you wanted to stay in Seoul. you couldn’t travel around, not when you’re at your early stages of pregnancy. actually, the obstetrician had already explain to you that you could travel around but you didn't want to take the risk.

“I don’t know, boys…” you say. ni-ki pouts. jake grabs your hand and squeezes.

“something wrong, baby? you usually don’t hesitate on hanging out with us. in fact, don’t you love travelling with us?” jake asks in the softest tone possible.

“I’m fine. I just feel scared…what if the ENGENEs find me annoying? I mean, I always somehow appear in your content and like they are forced to see my face. you know some of them don’t even like me.”

“well, first off. those aren't ENGENEs." jungwon says. "no ENGENE would hate on someone who is close to us or is family to us. besides, even if they are 'ENGENEs', they need to learn that jake hyung is happily married to you."

jake hums at jungwon's words. "you're my wife and they should respect that. i still show as much love to ENGENEs despite being married to you." jake tilts his head. "so, baby. you don't have to worry about a thing. i'll protect you and put you first over ENGENEs if they talk bad about you."

"thanks, babe."

"so why can't you travel with us? there must be another reason right?"

you sighed, "i'll tell you and the boys in a few days. don't worry, it's a really good explanation. i promise i'm not lying or trying to avoid it. i just haven't done something."

"now that's just making me more worried, princess." jake pouts.

"it's nothing bad, i promise. give me like 3 days."

"okay, fine. hmm, but in 3 days we'll be at practice the whole day."

"i know, i'll swing by your break as per usual."

the other boys were just as confused as jake but they just kept quiet.

3 days later

you had gone to HYBE to visit the boys like you usually did. you had brought some food, snacks and box with a balloon tied to it. a little extra thing for jake since you were going to reveal to him about your pregnancy. you had placed the food at the pantry so they could eat there.

you had knocked on their practice room door and popped your head in after you heard a 'come in'.

"i brought some food and snacks! come out before the food becomes cold."

the boys wiped their sweat and went out of the practice room. the coffee table was filled with food and snacks. their jaws dropped.

"did you plan this with the staff or something?"

"a little. it's a little reward for working hard for your tour." you say. jake goes over to peck your lips.

"baby, this is amazing! i married and dated the right woman!" jake exclaims. you laughed.

"what's that?" ni-ki points out the box with a balloon tied to it.

"dessert, eat the food first. it's going to be cold."

and so the boys dig into the food. with schedules being packed and having practices for the whole day lately, they were unable to eat such good food. they were thankful you were there to look after them and feed them well like a mom.

"okay, we're done with the food. i want to open the cake!" ni-ki pouts.

"mmm, how about we have jake open the cake and also cut it in the honour of the start of fate tour!" you say. the boys and jake didn't think much of it so they allowed jake to open and cut the cake.

when jake opens the cake box, he was met with the words "i'm going to be a dad!" and the ultrasound picture stuck to the roof of the box. his jaw drops as he slowly looks up at you. the boys looked over his shoulder as they noticed jake's shocked expression. their jaws dropped quickly after processing the words written on the cake.

"surprise." you shyly say.

"you're- holy shit." jake stands up and hugs you tightly. "i'm going to be a dad!!"

"wait wait. this is a lot to process." jay says. "you two have been fucking while we're all at the dorms..."

"no, that's not the main thing. they didn't use a condom! oh my god, you two are freaky!" sunghoon's face scrunches in disgust.

"we don't do it all the time! it was one time and that was to celebrate the day i proposed to her. i booked a hotel for me and (name) because i respected you guys."

"jake's little swimmers are working hard. just do it once and she gets pregnant?" heeseung says.

"why do you have to say it in the most graphic way in front of the younger ones." you hid your face on jake's chest, clearly embarrassed. not a single words were coming out of the younger members' mouths.

"okay, but can we eat the cake..." ni-ki voices out.

"yes, we can." jake says.

and so after the shock, everyone goes to enjoy the cake that you had brought. they cheered for jake and happily congratulated him. since they were going on tour, jake promised to always call and check up on you whenever he could.

and just before he left, both you and him announced to both of your parents that you were expecting. they all had thrilled faces when they realised that they would be grandparents. throughout the whole tour period, you had stayed with your parents as an advise from jake so that in case something happened, your mom would be around.

you were glad to have someone as caring as jake and you couldn't have asked for a better husband than him.

[simp4pedropascal75]

bad guy (Joel Miller x Reader)

summary: since joel came to jackson, you only had eyes for him. but he didn't had eyes for you.... well, he did. but he hid behind a facade of a cold, mean asshole.

trigger warnings: 18+, minors dni, mature content included, some angst, fluff, explicit language, mention of guns, smut (f!nger!ng, p in v, mention of daddy k!mk, praising, degrading), age gap (reader in his 20s, joel in his 50s)

words: 2k

a/n: hey guys, so, this is my first post after a long break now. this was my first time writing smut, i'm still learning yk, but I hope you like it! Please keep in my mind that english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for spelling mistakes and stuff.

Also I wrote this while driving to Croatia and I'm still sitting in the car, so yeah. There'll be a part 2 of this ff:) now, I wish y'all a fun time reading<3

-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡--------------------

Why do girls always love the bad guy? Why can’t I just find normal people attractive? And especially men in my age, you think.

Obviously I can’t, because I love Joel fucking Miller.

Since he came with this girl Ellie to Jackson, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. You tried, you really tried. But no, Joel stayed in your mind. Every fucking time he walked past you, butterflies flew in your stomach like crazy. When he looked at you, your heartbeat speeded up. And god, when he talked to you, even for just 10 seconds, you needed to squeeze your legs together, because you couldn’t bear the ache between your legs.

But sadly, he didn’t talked to you often, he didn’t look at you, he just always walked past you. Sometimes you two had to go on patrol, but to be honest, he was an asshole. He didn’t talk much, and when he did, he was mean. He was so cold towards you. The only person where he softened up, was Ellie. You and her got along well, she is a smart girl, with a big mouth, but still smart.

But, what did you expect? He’s like doubled your age. But you always found men, who could be your dad, more attractive than boys in your age. Older men are more mature and… they have experience.

With every boy you slept in your age, has never made you cum, never.

Not to mention your daddy issues.

Actually, you’re on patrol with him right now. It was quiet, very quiet, while you walk through a abounded building with him. You’ve met some clickers on your way, but they were easy to kill. “So, was it already so quiet when Tommy was out on patrol?”, you ask him while you reload your gun. “‘haven’t talked to him”, he answers cold. You look at him confused, because they usually always exchange about their patrols.

“Why didn’t you?”, you ask curiously.

“Why would you care?”, he scoffs and doesn’t even look at you. He stands up and continues to walk.

Asshole.

“We have to move, come on”, he adds. You just roll your eyes at him, get up and follow him. “Well I care, because we have to know what we have to expect.”, you mumble pissed.

He turns around to look at you with a stern look. “If you would shut your fucking mouth, maybe we could hear what we have to expect”

Yeah, that’s it.

“You know what, I don’t fucking care. I understand that we’re definitely not friends, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like the arrogant bastard you are.”, you speak upset. “Guess what, I don’t like you either, but at least I try to be nice to you!”

“Shut up.”, he whispers harshly.

“You want me to shut up?! Did I hurt your ego because someone finally said how you really are, Joel Miller?! I swear I’ll soon kick you in your non-exciting balls-“ He suddenly slams you against the wall and covers your mouth with his hand. “I said, be. quiet.”, he growls quietly. You try to move and push him away, but he’s too strong.

As you give up and stare into his eyes, you hear it too, stalkers.

You feel how the speed of your heartbeat increases and feel the big ache between your legs again, but even stronger as the last time’s. His chest was pressed onto yours and you sense his hot breath on your neck. While Joel’s concentrated on the sound of the stalkers, you get a chance to admire his face closely. His hazel eyes, his lips… and his nose.

Fuck.

As the stalker noises get quiet and disappear, you gulp as he stares into your eyes. He releases your mouth from his hand and you take a deep breath. “s-so.. where was I-?”, he cuts you off.

“You really can’t shut up, can you?”, he raises an eyebrow at you as he asks.

“You fucking basta-“, suddenly he smashes his lips on yours. That’s when you get quiet. Your heart was beating out of your chest while you were melting under his touch. You can’t resist and wrap your arms around his neck while kissing him back.

Joel’s hands run up your curves while he’s pulling you even closer to his body. You feel how his dick begins to harden under the fabric of his jeans. He stops kissing your lips and continues to place kisses on your neck to leave you with his marks. You whimper softly as you feel how his hand glides down your stomach. As Joel slides his hand under your pants, he touches your already wet panties. “god, were you so desperate to be touched? you dirty little girl.”, he whispers in your ear and nibbles on it. “Fuck, Joel-“, you breathe. He pushes your panties aside and his thumb starts to rub your clit slightly.

“you need to be quiet, darling.”, he whispers again as you feel his hot breath on your neck again. As you nod and give him your permission he slides two of his fingers into your core. “Joel- I-“, you begin to breath heavy. You really tried to keep quiet, but as he starts to pump his fingers into you… “Joel, I can’t-“, you moan, that’s when he puts his hand over your mouth again.

“keep fucking quiet, you’re gonna’ get us killed..”, he growls as he stares into your eyes.

While he continues shoving his fingers inside you, your hands make your way to his belt. As you start to unbuckle it, he slaps your hands away. “not here.”, he whispers harshly.

“Please Joel-, I need you.”, you whine.

“No.”, he says with his deep voice, which even more aroused you. You start to feel your climax coming nearer, so does Joel as your inner walls squeeze his fingers gently. “Joel, I’m gonna-“, you cry out and he immediately covers your mouth again. “thats it, baby.. cum all over my fingers, darling…”, he whispers right into your ear and that’s when you reach your climax. He presses his hand onto your mouth to quiet down your moan and a slight smirk appears on his face. As your legs are still shaking, your hands try to unbuckle his belt again, but this time, he lets you do it.

“Fuck, y/n… you really want to get us killed, don’t you”, Joel groans quietly.

“Please Joel-, just-“, he cuts you off while slamming his lips onto yours again. He flicks his younger against yours and gasps as your hand touches his clothed dick. “Goddammit, y/n!”, he growls.

“Please Joel, I need you inside of me-“, that’s when he can’t resist your begging and he turns you around the wall and pushes you against it. “‘risking to get killed, just to be fucked by daddy’s cock”, he whispers and you hear how he pushes his pants down, which leaves a smile on your face. He takes his dick into his hand and rubs the tip at your wet pussy. His other hand glides to your mouth again, because he knows you definitely can’t keep quiet.

And he’s right.

You cry out loud as he pushes his shaft into your throbbing core.

God, he’s big.

“Fuck.”, he exhales. He begins to thrust into you while your moans get louder, he presses his hand harder on your mouth. “Such a good girl, taking my dick so fucking good”, Joel praises which makes you squirm under his grip. His other hand rests on your waist and his breath starts to get heavier. As he increases the speed, you feel how your legs begin to shake again. “how long have you been waiting for this, hm…?”, he breathes into your ear and wraps his arm around you to pull you closer. Joel begins to hit your g-spot and as your breath becomes heavier, your moans do too.

“Use your words, princess”, he groans into your ear.

“S-since you came here-“, you try to answer while he’s trying to muffle your moans again. You hear him chuckle. “‘never thought that you’re such a dirty girl”, he whispers. “‘squeezing my dick real good- you’re gonna’ cum?”. You nod.

“Words.”, he growls. “Y-yes, I’m gonna cum!”, you whine and you rech your climax. As your pussy tightens around his cock, you hear his groan and feel how he fills you up with his cum, leaving you two breathless.

.

.

.

As we walked back to Jackson, he was quiet, too quiet. “‘you’re okay?”, you ask concerned and also confused while he’s walking in front of you. “This was a mistake”, he growls and keeps walking. “What- I don’t understand-“, you mumble confused and grab after his hand so he stops walking. “What don’t you understand?”, he speaks louder and pulls his hand away. “This, was a mistake”, he points with his finger at you and himself. “A fucking big one.”, he growls and turns around to walk. “So, after you just fucked the shit out of me in a building full of zombies, you tell me that this was a mistake?!”, you almost shout and walk after him.

I can’t believe him, you think.

“yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”, he points out and it seems like he really doesn’t care. “Are you kidding me right now?! Don’t you notice how fucked up this is?! You fuck me and now tell me it was a mistake, and you don’t even feel bad!”, you shout after him upset and try not to tear up. “Exactly”, he just answers coldly.

“And now what huh?!”, you try to grab his hand again and finally get him stop walking. He turns around and just looks at you, his eyes were pitch black now. You don’t see any emotions in his face.

“Now, we’re going our separate ways”, he grumbles coldly.

.

.

.

Why do girls always love the bad guy?, you think.

It’s already been two months since it happens with Joel. And like he said, we’re going our separate ways. He didn’t look at you, he didn’t talked to you and he didn’t even went on patrols with you anymore. And you really tried to hate him, and did because of what he did, but you couldn’t get this night with him out of your mind anymore. Every time you close your eyes, you feel his lips on yours and his dick thrusting deep into you.

So, since he really didn’t felt bad and ignored you like you don’t exist, you tried to keep on with your life and tried dating again. You’ve met a really nice boy, Jack. He was two years older than you and he really was a gentleman. He was nice, kind and lovely. He made you laugh and feel safe. Since Joel didn’t go on patrols with you again, he did. And it was fun. Today you’ve had your third date already and as you walk into the bar, you see Joel sitting there.

Fuck.

And that’s when it hits your memory again. His hand pressed on your mouth, his hot breath on your neck and his dick pounding into you. You got pulled out of your mind, as you feel Jack’s hand on your waist. “Hey there, beautiful”, he says with his sweet smile. “Hey”, you smile back and go with him to your table. You thought Joel didn’t notice you, but he did. He saw you with this guy before, and god it has made him jealous. But Joel’s good at hiding his feelings, always hiding how he looks at you in secret.

You and Jack had a good time. Sometimes you took a glance at Joel, but his back was turned towards you. As you two finished eating, you stood up and wanted to look after Joel, but he wasn’t sitting there anymore. “I’ll pay real quick, you can wait outside”, Jack says and places a kiss on your cheek.

You nod and go outside. It’s already dark outside. A breeze of cold air flies against your body and you get goosebumps. That’s when you let your keys fall. “Fuck…”, you swear and try to see them in the dark. As you spot them, you bend down but suddenly someone else picks them up.

As you look up, you freeze:

“Joel.”

-> part 2

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (12)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Note: For all the parts of this story visit my blog, the list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (Aerys is warning on his own)

- Word count: 9 000+

- Previous part: 11

- Next part: 13

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @lightdragonrayne @alyssa-dayne

The lush greenery and carefully tended flowers seemed out of place, too peaceful against the backdrop of tension and unease that permeated the castle. You walked beside Rhaegar, your arm threaded through his as you strolled through the winding paths of the garden. It would appear to anyone else that the two of you were simply siblings enjoying a quiet moment away from the pressures of court, the Prince and his sister taking a peaceful walk in the beauty of the gardens.

Behind you, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy followed at a respectful distance, their presence as your protectors always felt but never imposing. They were more than just guards—they were part of the tight-knit circle that had formed around you and Rhaegar, a bond of trust that extended beyond duty and oaths. Arthur, always steady and sure, had his gaze fixed on Rhaegar, who occasionally glanced back at him with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

The breeze was gentle, carrying the scent of the roses, but beneath the surface, you could feel the tension in your brother’s arm. There was something weighing on him, something that had been there ever since the horror of the throne room a week ago. His face, though calm and serene, held an edge of worry, the kind of concern he always tried to keep from you but that you had learned to see through.

“Do you trust me?” Rhaegar asked suddenly, breaking the silence between you. His voice was soft but serious, and the question made you pause mid-step, looking up at him in surprise.

You furrowed your brow, confusion settling in. “Of course, I trust you,” you answered, your voice tinged with worry. “You’re my brother.”

Rhaegar slowed his pace, leading you toward a quieter part of the garden where the paths became more shaded by the high walls of ivy and the sound of the Red Keep faded into the background. His grip on your arm tightened slightly, as if bracing himself for something.

“There may come a time soon, Y/N,” Rhaegar began, his tone low but filled with a quiet intensity, “when you must be ready to leave. Arthur will come for you, and when he does... you must go with him. No hesitation. Do you understand?”

You stopped walking, turning toward him fully now, your heart beginning to race. Rhaegar’s expression was solemn, but there was an urgency in his eyes that unnerved you. “Rhaegar, what are you talking about?”

His gaze flickered past you for a moment, catching Arthur’s eye. The Knight of the Morning, standing a few paces behind with Ser Barristan, exchanged a knowing look with the prince. Your chest tightened at the silent communication between them—there was something being planned, something that had already been set into motion without your knowledge.

“I’m going to take you away from here,” Rhaegar said, his voice soft but unyielding, as if the decision had already been made and there was no turning back. “Away from Father. Away from this insanity.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone. Panic began to rise in your chest, and you shook your head, your hands gripping his arm tighter. “I can’t, Rhaegar,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “If I leave, if we run... Father will call you a traitor. He’ll brand you as a traitor to the crown. You know what he’ll do.”

Rhaegar’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “None of it matters anymore,” he said quietly but firmly. “Don’t you see? It’s already gone too far. He’s lost to us, Y/N. He’s not our father anymore. He’s... something else. Something that will consume us all if we stay.”

You shook your head again, fear now gripping you as you thought of the consequences, of what your father would do if he discovered you had fled. “He’ll kill you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He’ll kill you, Rhaegar. I can’t—”

Rhaegar cupped your face with his hands, his touch gentle but steady. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as he spoke in a low, urgent tone. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you. We’ll go somewhere safe, where he can’t reach us. Arthur and Barristan will help, and we’ll be far away before anyone knows we’re gone. You just have to trust me, Y/N.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched your brother’s face, seeing the deep conviction in his eyes. He was trying to save you, to protect you from a fate you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And yet, the thought of leaving, of running away from the place you had known your whole life, terrified you. More than that, the thought of Rhaegar being labeled a traitor—a title that would surely lead to his death—was unbearable.

Before you could respond, before the panic in your chest could give voice to your fears, Rhaegar stiffened. His grip on you tightened as his eyes flicked past you, a shadow of something dark crossing his face.

You turned, following his gaze, and saw them approaching.

King Aerys, your father, was striding down the garden path toward you, his long robes billowing around him like a storm. His face was twisted with that familiar chaos, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, fevered light. Behind him, Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Gerold Hightower followed closely, their expressions unreadable but strained. 

Rhaegar’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to him in a protective gesture as Aerys drew nearer. You could feel the tension radiating from your brother, the unspoken warning in his touch.

Aerys stopped a few paces away, his gaze locking onto you first with an unsettling intensity before shifting to Rhaegar. His smile was slow, predatory, as though he had caught something in a trap. “Ah, my children,” Aerys said, his voice dripping with twisted affection. “Enjoying a stroll, are we?”

Rhaegar’s grip on you tightened, his body tense as a bowstring. “Just some fresh air, Father,” he said, his voice calm but cold.

Aerys’ smile widened, his gaze flicking back to you. “Good. It’s important for you to enjoy your time here, Y/N. Soon enough, everything will be... different.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something in your father’s voice—something dark and foreboding that made your blood run cold. You pressed closer to Rhaegar, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his sleeve.

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw clenched. “What do you mean by that?”

Aerys’ smile never faltered, but his eyes gleamed with something unspoken. “Oh, you’ll see. Soon enough.”

The king turned away, beckoning Jaime and Gerold to follow, leaving you and Rhaegar standing in the garden, the weight of his words pressing down like a noose tightening around your neck. 

Rhaegar held you close, his heart beating against yours, as the reality of what was to come settled over both of you like a dark, inevitable storm.

Rhaegar gently nudged you forward, urging you to continue walking as if nothing unusual had just happened. His arm remained around your waist, steady and protective, but his body was tense. The soft rustle of the garden’s leaves and the distant murmur of the castle could not dispel the dread in the air after Aerys’ unsettling words. You forced your feet to move, though your heart raced, and your mind churned with fear.

Then, you heard it—a voice, faint yet clear, slipping into your thoughts like a whisper on the wind.

"Why is it troubled?" 

You blinked, your heart stuttering at the suddenness of the voice. It wasn’t Rhaegar, and yet it felt familiar, like the strange whispers you sometimes heard in your dreams. The dragon’s voice, perhaps. You instinctively looked up at your brother, but he seemed not to notice the voice at all, his focus elsewhere.

Rhaegar leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered urgently. “Arthur will take you to Starfall soon. You’ll be safe there with his sister, Ashara. From there, we’ll decide what to do next.”

You glanced up at him, confusion and fear swirling in your chest. "Starfall? But Rhaegar—what about you? What about Mother?" Your voice trembled despite your best efforts to remain composed.

Rhaegar’s expression softened, though the weight of responsibility still pressed heavily on his features. “The North is already preparing to march against the Crownlands,” he explained in a low voice. “Lord Stark’s death has set fire to the North’s fury, and they won’t stand alone. Many lords who disapprove of Father’s rule will follow them. Soon, rebellion will reach King’s Landing.”

A sharp jolt of anxiety shot through you at his words. “Rebellion?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. The thought of open war, of bloodshed, made your heart ache. You could feel the storm approaching, and you knew that it would not be kind to those caught in its path.

Rhaegar nodded solemnly. “It’s inevitable now. Father’s actions have sealed the fate of the realm. But you… you can’t be here when it happens. I need you safe, Y/N. That’s why Arthur will take you to Starfall. From there, we’ll have options.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. The thought of leaving him behind, of leaving your home, terrified you. But you understood why he was asking this of you. You knew, deep down, that it was the only way to protect you from Aerys’ madness.

“What about Mother?” you asked, your voice soft but insistent. The thought of leaving Queen Rhaella behind in this nest of vipers felt unbearable. “We can’t just leave her here with him.”

Rhaegar’s expression softened again, this time with a trace of sadness. “Varys is making arrangements,” he whispered. “He’ll ensure that Mother is escorted safely to Dragonstone. She’ll be far from Father’s reach, and Dragonstone is defensible. He won’t go after her. He’s too fixated on…” Rhaegar’s voice trailed off, but the implication was clear. Aerys’ madness was too focused on you now. His obsession with you, with the dragon you shared a bond with, had consumed him.

You swallowed hard, nodding as you tried to absorb it all. The enormity of it—the rebellion, your father’s madness, the plan to flee—was overwhelming. And still, through it all, you could hear that voice, faint and insistent, as if it were watching, waiting.

"Why is it troubled?" the voice asked again, but this time there was a sliver of curiosity in its tone, as though it were intrigued by your fear, by your indecision.

“I can’t leave you here,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Not alone. I can’t—”

“You must,” Rhaegar said, his voice firm but filled with warmth. “You must trust me, Y/N. I need you to be safe. If anything happened to you, I…” He paused, his grip on you tightening slightly as though the very thought of losing you was too much to bear. “You’re my sister, and I’ll protect you. I’ll find a way. But you need to be far from here when everything begins.”

Your heart ached, torn between the deep love and trust you had for your brother and the fear of leaving him behind. The idea of being so far from him, of being separated while the world seemed to unravel, filled you with dread. But you could see the resolve in Rhaegar’s eyes, the determination that had always been there, quietly guiding him.

He was doing this for you. To protect you from the fire that was about to engulf them all.

You nodded, though it was difficult, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. “Alright,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I trust you, Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar’s expression softened, and he gently squeezed your hand, as if sealing the promise between you. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Arthur and Ashara will take care of you. I’ll make sure Mother is safe. We’ll get through this.”

The grand doors of the throne room creaked open as you and Rhaegar were escorted inside. The room, vast and imposing, was eerily quiet, save for the soft footfalls of your boots against the stone floor. The Iron Throne loomed ahead, its jagged edges catching the light from the high windows, casting sharp shadows across the chamber. But your eyes weren’t on the throne. They were on the creature that lay coiled in the shadows behind it.

Terrax, your dragon, raised his massive head as you entered. His golden eyes, slitted like a cat’s, gleamed in the dim light, and his black scales rippled as he stirred from his slumber. He had grown even more in the past weeks, his presence a dark and brooding force that filled the room with an almost tangible power.

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat as you gazed at him. The bond between you and Terrax was unlike anything you had ever known. It wasn’t just a connection—it was as though a part of your soul was tied to his, as though every beat of your heart was mirrored in his powerful chest. His sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, your hand reaching out as you approached him. The guards behind you paused, unsure whether to follow, but Rhaegar held up a hand, signaling them to wait. He stood just behind you, watching silently as you moved closer to Terrax.

The dragon lowered his head slightly, allowing you to run your hand along the smooth, dark scales of his snout. His breath was warm, almost comforting, and you could feel the raw strength that rippled beneath his skin. You had always been able to sense his emotions—his thoughts, even—but today, there was something more, something urgent and protective in the way he watched you.

You leaned in, resting your forehead gently against his massive head, and whispered softly to him, “I don’t want to leave you.” Terrax rumbled in response, the deep sound vibrating through the air, and you felt the faintest brush of his mind against yours, a wordless promise of loyalty.

Rhaegar moved closer, his presence a steady warmth at your back. You straightened and turned to him, your hand still resting on Terrax’s snout. “I can’t leave him behind,” you said, your voice quiet but filled with conviction. The thought of leaving Terrax in King’s Landing, in the hands of your father, filled you with dread. “He’s a part of me, Rhaegar. I can’t leave him to Father.”

Rhaegar’s violet eyes softened as he looked at you, and then at Terrax. His expression held a mixture of understanding and something deeper—something that spoke of his own burdens, his own dreams. “I know,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “But I don’t believe you’ll have to. Terrax won’t stay here. He’ll follow you. I’m sure of it.”

You searched his face, hoping to find reassurance in his words, and there was a certainty in his gaze that calmed the fear that had taken root in your heart. Still, the thought of leaving the dragon behind, even for a moment, made you uneasy. You turned back to Terrax, brushing your fingers along his scales once more, before reluctantly stepping away from him.

As you moved back toward Rhaegar, you hesitated for a moment, a question bubbling up inside you. You had always known your brother was different, marked by the same fire that ran through your veins, but there was something about the way he had spoken lately—about your future, about his own—that troubled you.

“Rhaegar,” you said softly, looking up at him, “what about your dreams?”

He blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Your dragon dreams,” you clarified. “You used to speak of them—how you had dreams of your own future, of what you were meant to do. What about those?”

There was a pause, a long silence in which Rhaegar’s gaze drifted away, as though he were looking at something far beyond the walls of the Red Keep. His face, usually so composed, so certain, seemed to cloud with something unspoken. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it.

“They changed,” he said simply, his tone filled with a weight that you couldn’t quite understand.

You stared at him, searching his face for some explanation, but he didn’t offer one. The dreams that had once seemed to guide him, to give him purpose, had shifted. And now, there was a new path before him—one that was uncertain, filled with shadows and unknowns.

Rhaegar met your gaze again, his eyes soft but resolute. “Whatever I thought my future held, it doesn’t matter anymore. Not if it means losing you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the depth of his love and protectiveness for you clear in every syllable. He had always been your protector, your guardian, but now you could feel the full weight of the choice he was making. He was willing to sacrifice his dreams, his destiny, to keep you safe.

“But Rhaegar,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “what if—”

“None of it matters,” he interrupted gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Not anymore. The future I once dreamed of... it’s not what I thought it would be. Right now, the only thing that matters is getting you away from here.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the gravity of his words settle over you like a heavy cloak. 

Rhaegar’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, and you nodded, a quiet acceptance passing between the two of you.

And from the shadows behind the Iron Throne, Terrax watched, his eyes gleaming as he waited, as if understanding what was to come.

Ser Arthur Dayne stood silently near the entrance to the throne room, his eyes fixed on you and Rhaegar as you stood near the looming presence of Terrax. The dragon’s golden eyes were half-lidded, watching with a quiet intensity as you stroked his scales, your figure dwarfed by the beast's size. From this distance, the throne room felt colder, emptier, but all Arthur could see was you—your silver hair catching the light, your slender form so close to your brother, the crown prince.

Every inch of him wanted to move closer, to be by your side, to protect you in the way he had promised he would. The memories of the night he had made that promise still burned in his mind—the desperate moments when he had held you close, whispering that he would take you away from all of this, from the madness that surrounded your family, from the nightmare of Aerys’ rule. And now, watching you with Rhaegar, so fragile yet so strong, Arthur felt that promise tighten in his chest like a vow etched in steel.

Beside him, Ser Barristan Selmy stood, his expression calm, though his eyes flicked between you and Rhaegar with the same careful observance. Unlike Arthur, Barristan knew the truth of what lay between you and the Sword of the Morning. He had known for some time now, ever since he let Arthur join you in the chambers as he took the watch, and though he had never spoken a word of it, there was a quiet understanding between the two knights. Barristan had never judged Arthur for it—in fact, he had been nothing but supportive, offering words of comfort in the quiet moments when Arthur's emotions had threatened to spill over. Barristan knew that love, in a place like this, was dangerous. But he also knew that love, especially the kind Arthur felt for you, was the only thing keeping him steady.

"You can see it in him," Barristan said softly, breaking the silence between them. His voice was low, meant only for Arthur to hear. "Rhaegar. He’s made his choice."

Arthur didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on Rhaegar’s face. The prince’s expression was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper—something like resolution, or perhaps a quiet resignation. It was clear that Rhaegar’s mind had already been made up, just as it was clear that he would do anything to protect you. The look in his eyes when he spoke to you, when he guided you gently away from the dragon, was unmistakable.

"Yes," Arthur murmured at last, his voice tight. "He has."

Barristan glanced sideways at Arthur, his sharp eyes catching the tension in his friend’s posture, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "And you? Are you ready for what comes next?"

Arthur’s jaw tightened, his heart pounding as he watched you turn toward Rhaegar, your expression filled with trust, with that quiet love only a sibling could share. "I’ve always been ready," he replied quietly, though the weight of his words settled heavily on his chest. "I made her a promise."

Barristan nodded slowly, his gaze returning to you. "She trusts you, Arthur. More than anyone else. When the time comes, you must be the one to take her away from this place."

Arthur’s eyes softened as he watched you laugh softly at something Rhaegar said, the sound a brief flicker of light in the cold, dark room. He remembered the nights spent with you in secret, the stolen moments when you had whispered to him your fears, your hopes, your need to escape. It had torn him apart to see you so vulnerable, to know that the only life you had ever known was slowly poisoning you, trapping you in a cage of duty and madness.

"I won’t fail her," Arthur said, his voice low but filled with a quiet, determined intensity. "When the time comes, I’ll take her far away from here. I won’t let anyone stop us."

Barristan’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though it was tinged with sadness. "I believe you, Arthur. And so does she."

Arthur’s heart ached as he watched you step closer to Rhaegar, your hand resting on your brother’s arm in a gesture of trust and affection. Rhaegar turned to you, his face softening in a way that only you could bring out in him. The bond between you two was unbreakable, but Arthur knew that when the time came to leave, it would be his responsibility to keep you safe. He had sworn it to you, and to himself. And more than that—he loved you. In ways he had never thought possible, he loved you with a depth that frightened him, but also gave him strength.

Beside him, Barristan shifted slightly, his gaze steady on the scene before them. "Rhaegar knows what needs to be done," he said quietly. "But it won’t be easy. Aerys won’t let you leave so easily."

Arthur’s eyes darkened, a flicker of anger flashing through him at the thought of the Mad King. The man who had claimed you, who had threatened to bind you to him in the most twisted way possible, as though you were nothing more than a tool for his madness. The very idea of Aerys touching you, of controlling your fate, filled Arthur with a rage that simmered just beneath the surface.

"I don’t care what Aerys does," Arthur muttered, his voice cold. "I’ll take her away, even if I have to fight my way out of the Red Keep."

Barristan’s hand rested briefly on Arthur’s shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "You’ll have help," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "You won’t do it alone."

Arthur nodded, though his eyes remained on you. As you spoke to Rhaegar, your hand still on his arm, there was a heaviness in your expression, a shadow of fear that Arthur knew all too well. You were trying to be strong, trying to hold yourself together in the face of the growing storm. But Arthur saw through it. He saw the vulnerability beneath, the same vulnerability you had shown him when you had told him, in the stillness of the night, that you couldn’t endure this alone.

"I love her," Arthur whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It wasn’t the first time he had admitted it aloud, but saying it here, in this room, with Barristan beside him, made it feel more real.

"I know," Barristan said softly, his voice filled with understanding. "And that’s why you’ll succeed."

Arthur’s gaze flickered to his friend for a brief moment, gratitude flashing in his eyes, before he turned his attention back to you and Rhaegar. You deserved to be free of this place, of the shadows that clung to your family, and Arthur was willing to do anything to give you that freedom. Whatever it took.

As you stepped back from Terrax, your eyes met Arthur’s across the room, and for a moment, the noise of the world faded away. There was something unspoken between you, something only the two of you understood. It was a promise, a shared hope for a future far away from the chains that bound you here.

Arthur nodded slightly, a silent vow that he would keep you safe, that he would be there when the time came to leave.

And when that time came, he would not hesitate.

The dimly lit chamber of the Red Keep, where Varys found himself waiting, was suffused with an oppressive, almost seen dread. The air was thick with the weight of impending chaos. It had been a couple of months since the execution of Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark, and the realm was growing restless. Rebellion stirred in the North, and more and more lords whispered discontent with the king’s increasing madness. Yet here, in the belly of the beast, King Aerys still ruled, his erratic decisions and unpredictable wrath sowing fear throughout the court.

Varys, as ever, had heard all the whispers. But now, it was time for him to speak. Rhaegar had his plans, but before Varys committed to anything, he had to try once more—to steer the king back from the precipice of disaster. Varys had navigated the dangerous currents of court intrigue for years, and though he had seen the signs of Aerys' madness long ago, he still held some hope that the king could be reasoned with—or, at the very least, manipulated into a course of action that would spare the realm.

The doors opened with a creak, and King Aerys strode into the chamber, his long robes trailing behind him, his wild, unkempt hair and beard giving him the look of a man far beyond reason. His eyes gleamed with that familiar fevered light, and a faint, unsettling smile curled his lips as he spotted Varys.

"Ah, my spider," Aerys purred, his voice dripping with a false warmth that sent a chill down Varys’ spine. "What news do you bring me from the shadows today?"

Varys bowed deeply, his head lowered in deference, though his mind was already calculating every word, every move. He had spent years learning how to speak to Aerys without inciting his wrath, but the king’s madness was growing more unpredictable by the day. This would be delicate work.

"Your Grace," Varys began smoothly, "I come to you with the utmost respect and concern for the stability of the realm." He straightened, his hands folded within the long sleeves of his robes. "The lords of Westeros are watching closely. They have heard your decrees, and though many remain loyal to the crown, some... question recent decisions. Particularly regarding Princess Y/N."

Aerys’ smile faltered, his eyes narrowing. "What are you saying, spider?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold.

Varys kept his expression neutral, his voice as calm as ever. "There are whispers, Your Grace. Whispers that speak of unease in the houses still loyal to you. They have always accepted the Targaryen tradition of brother-sister marriages, but... your decision to take Princess Y/N as your own wife has caused unrest among those who hold fast to the Faith of the Seven. These lords, particularly those with great influence, question the future of the realm under such a marriage. I fear that more houses may turn against you if they feel this union is an affront to their beliefs."

Aerys’ eyes darkened, and his lips curled into a sneer. "They dare question me?" His voice rose, a flicker of anger flashing through his expression. "Those fools are nothing but cattle! I am their king! I am the blood of the dragon!"

Varys kept his tone measured, though his pulse quickened. "Of course, Your Grace. No one questions your right to rule. But if I may suggest... reconsidering your earlier plan. Rhaegar and Princess Y/N were always meant to wed. Such a marriage, as was originally intended, would solidify the loyalty of many houses. It would ease their concerns, and it would strengthen the unity of the realm at a time when rebellion stirs in the North. It would—"

"Enough!" Aerys’ voice cracked like a whip, cutting through Varys' words. He took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with fury. "You dare suggest that I give up what is mine? That I allow Rhaegar to steal my daughter? My child? No, spider. Y/N belongs to me. She is the mother of my dragon, my future. I will not be swayed by the petty fears of lords who tremble before the Seven. They will fall in line or burn."

Varys remained still, though inside he could feel the conversation slipping beyond his control. Aerys was too far gone, too consumed by his obsession with you and the dragon born from fire and madness. His hold on reality had shattered, and no amount of reason would sway him.

"Your Grace," Varys said, his voice soft but firm, "I only wish to ensure the stability of your reign. The North is already moving, and other lords may soon follow. A marriage between Rhaegar and Princess Y/N would—"

"Silence!" Aerys’ voice roared through the chamber, his face twisted with rage. He took another step forward, his fingers twitching as if he longed to strike. "You think me a fool, don’t you, spider? You think I cannot see your schemes, your attempts to undermine me? Rhaegar is plotting against me—he wants my throne, and you... you would help him take it! But he will not have her. Y/N is mine. Mine!" His voice trembled with madness as he spat the words.

Varys bowed his head once more, knowing there was nothing more he could say that would reach the king. "I only serve the realm, Your Grace," he said quietly.

Aerys’ eyes burned with fury, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Get out of my sight," he hissed. "Before I decide to burn you with the rest of the traitors."

Varys straightened slowly, his expression calm, though his mind raced. He had done what he could—now it was time to act. He turned and left the chamber, the weight of what was to come settling heavily on his shoulders.

Aerys was beyond saving. And Rhaegar’s plan was now the only path forward.

The dark halls of the Red Keep seemed colder tonight, as if the very stones were aware of what awaited you. The summons had come earlier in the day, carried by a messenger who spoke with the trembling fear that now clung to every servant in the castle when mentioning your father. A private dinner with the king, your father, to discuss the "details" of your upcoming wedding.

The very thought of it sent a shudder through you, though you had been careful not to let your discomfort show. Rhaegar had warned you, told you to stay strong, to be prepared for anything. But the weight of it all—the looming threat of the marriage, your father's increasing instability, the rebellion that simmered in the North—it felt like the world was closing in on you from all sides.

As you entered the dining hall, the doors closing behind you with an ominous thud, you were greeted by the sight of your father seated at the head of the table, his eyes gleaming with a strange mix of affection and madness. The table was set with an extravagant feast, far too much food for just the two of you, the aroma rich but sickening to your stomach.

“Ah, my dearest Y/N,” Aerys purred as you approached, his voice warm but laced with a dangerous edge. He rose from his seat, his long robes trailing behind him as he moved to greet you. “Come, sit with me. We have so much to discuss.”

You nodded quietly, your throat tight as you lowered yourself into the chair across from him. Aerys remained standing for a moment longer, his eyes sweeping over you with that unsettling gaze that made your skin crawl. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he sat back down, his smile never faltering.

“Father,” you greeted softly, keeping your voice steady. “You wished to speak with me.”

“Indeed,” Aerys replied, his smile widening as he reached for the goblet of wine before him. “There are so many plans to make for our wedding, my darling. It will be a day unlike any other—fire and blood, the true legacy of our house. The entire realm will witness the purity of our bloodline, and the traitors who would defy us shall be cleansed in the flames.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, and for a moment, you felt as though the air had been sucked from the room. The firelight flickered on the walls, casting long, shifting shadows, and in that moment, the voice returned, soft and serpentine, whispering in the back of your mind.

"The very thought falls to the flame."

You blinked, your hands tightening slightly in your lap as you tried to focus on your father, to keep the fear at bay. He was watching you closely, his expression somewhere between adoration and something far more sinister.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Aerys continued, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. “To see the flames rise, to watch the world burn away its impurities. The traitors will scream, Y/N, but their screams are the song of a new age.”

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly, though the bile rose in your throat. “Yes, Father,” you said quietly, forcing the words out. “I understand.”

Aerys leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. “After the wedding, we shall burn those who dare oppose us. The North, the Riverlands—those who would side with the traitors, they will be purified. You and I, my dearest daughter, will be the fire that cleanses the realm.”

Your hands trembled under the table, but you kept your gaze steady on him, unwilling to let him see your fear. His words twisted inside you like a blade, the horror of what he was planning so immense that it seemed almost unreal.

"Ask about the free poison," the voice whispered again, slipping into your mind like a shadow creeping through the darkness.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tried to push them away, to focus on the here and now. But they lingered, curling around your thoughts like smoke.

Aerys reached across the table then, his hand brushing against yours, the touch meant to be affectionate, but it sent a wave of revulsion through you. His fingers, long and thin, felt cold against your skin, and you had to fight the urge to pull away. 

“You’re so much like your mother,” he said softly, his tone almost tender, though there was something twisted beneath it. “But you are mine, Y/N. We will be one, bound in fire, as it was always meant to be.”

Your breath hitched, the words suffocating. The thought of his affection, of his claim over you, was unbearable, and yet you knew that you had to remain composed. Any sign of resistance, any sign of hesitation, and Aerys would lash out.

You forced a smile, though it felt hollow. “Of course, Father. Whatever you wish.”

Aerys’ smile grew wider, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, possessive. “Good. Very good. You will make me proud, my dearest.”

He released your hand then, returning to his meal as if nothing had happened. You could still feel the cold imprint of his touch on your skin, the weight of his gaze lingering even as he looked away.

The room seemed to spin for a moment, the firelight flickering more erratically, and again the voice whispered in your mind.

"The very thought falls to the flame."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, trying to push the voice away, but it clung to you like a shadow, whispering things that unsettled you even further.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Aerys said, cutting through the silence, “how do you imagine the day of our wedding? Do you think the flames will dance higher in the sky when we are wed?”

You stared at him, the question hanging in the air like a poison-laced dagger. Your mind raced, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t betray the terror building inside you. “I’m sure it will be... unforgettable,” you said softly, the words tasting like ash on your tongue.

Aerys smiled again, a strange, faraway look in his eyes. “Yes. It will be. And the traitors will burn in the light of our love.”

You nodded, though every part of you screamed to run, to escape this nightmare that was being built around you. You could feel the fire, the heat, the madness rising, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, the voice whispered again.

"Ask about the free poison."

But you didn’t. Not yet. You couldn’t. Not while Aerys watched you so closely, his twisted affection wrapped around you like chains you could not yet break.

So you remained silent, trapped in the growing storm of madness that surrounded your father, waiting for the moment when you could finally be free.

The moonlight filtered dimly through the cracks in the thick curtains of your chamber, casting faint, silvery shadows over the room. The world outside was quiet, but the silence of the Red Keep was far from peaceful. You lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on you—your father’s plans, the horrifying wedding, the chaos brewing in the realm. Sleep had become a distant memory, replaced by the constant hum of fear that never seemed to leave your mind.

Then, a soft noise broke through the stillness—the faint creak of your chamber door opening. You sat up instantly, your heart racing, but before fear could fully take hold, you saw the figure stepping into the room.

Arthur.

He moved with the same graceful stealth you had come to know so well, his tall frame silhouetted in the moonlight. He was dressed in dark leathers, his sword sheathed at his side, but his eyes—those soft, concerned eyes—were fixed on you. His expression, though shadowed by the dim light, was filled with a quiet urgency.

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping closer to the bed, his voice low and filled with emotion. "It’s time."

You blinked, the haze of worry giving way to understanding. This was it. Rhaegar’s plan. Arthur had come to take you away, just as he had promised.

Without a word, Arthur reached out his hand to you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. There was an unmistakable tenderness in his touch, more than just a protective gesture. It was a connection, one that had grown between the two of you over time, forged in stolen moments and quiet confessions. 

You hesitated only for a moment, the gravity of what was happening weighing heavily on your chest. But then, with a deep breath, you took his hand. The moment your fingers intertwined, a sense of calm washed over you—Arthur was here. You weren’t alone.

Arthur’s grip tightened gently, a silent reassurance, and he gave you a soft, encouraging smile. “Come,” he said, his voice still a whisper. “We have to move quickly.”

You slid out of bed, your bare feet touching the cold stone floor, but the chill didn’t matter. Arthur’s hand was warm, his presence solid and comforting, and in that moment, it was all that mattered. He led you toward the corner of the room where the tapestry hung, concealing the secret passage. With a swift, practiced motion, he pushed it aside, revealing the entrance to Maegor’s tunnels.

The darkness within the tunnel yawned before you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of hesitation. You were about to leave behind everything you had ever known—the Red Keep, your family, the life you had been forced to endure. But Arthur’s hand, warm and steady in yours, pulled you back from the edge of doubt.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Arthur whispered, his voice tender as he stepped closer to you. His other hand came up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your cheek. The warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter. “You’re safe with me, Y/N. I promise.”

The affection in his touch, in his words, sent a wave of emotion through you. For so long, you had been trapped—trapped in your father’s plans, trapped in the fear of what was to come. But Arthur… Arthur had been your anchor, your light in the darkness. And now, here he was, offering you a way out. 

“I trust you,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of everything you were feeling. “You know I do.”

Arthur’s eyes softened even further, and for a moment, the tension in his posture melted away. He cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he leaned in, his forehead resting softly against yours. The closeness of him, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible, as if they were meant only for you and the night. “I’ve loved you for so long… and I’ll protect you, Y/N. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, swallowing the lump in your throat. You leaned into his touch, your forehead still pressed against his, and for that brief moment, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, bound by love and promises made in the quiet darkness.

But the moment couldn’t last. The reality of your situation hung over you like a shadow, and Arthur, as much as he wanted to hold you there, knew it as well.

“We have to go,” he said softly, reluctantly pulling away, though his hand remained in yours. “The tunnels will take us outside the Red Keep, and from there, we can disappear.”

You nodded, your chest tightening with the weight of leaving. Leaving your brother, your mother… everything. But Arthur was here, and that was all you needed to keep moving.

He led you into the tunnel, the passage narrowing as the cold air wrapped around you. The walls pressed in on both sides, but Arthur’s presence—his hand still holding yours—kept the fear at bay. His thumb brushed the back of your hand gently as you walked, as if to remind you that he was there, that he wouldn’t let go.

The darkness seemed endless, the path twisting and turning in ways that disoriented you. But Arthur moved with certainty, his grip never faltering. Every now and then, he would glance back at you, his gaze soft and full of concern.

“We’re almost there,” he whispered after a while, his voice echoing softly in the tunnel. “Once we’re outside, we’ll have to move quickly. But I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

You nodded, though the weight of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your chest. The fear was there, gnawing at the edges of your resolve, but Arthur’s presence kept it from consuming you entirely.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you saw a faint light ahead—the exit. The cool night air rushed in as you stepped closer, the world outside waiting for you. Freedom.

Arthur paused just before the exit, turning to face you. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of affection and determination. He reached up to cup your face once more, his touch gentle, reverent.

“I made a promise to you,” he said softly, his voice full of emotion. “I will keep it. No matter what happens, Y/N… I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. “I know,” you whispered, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper. “I trust you, Arthur. With my life.”

For a moment, you stood there, your foreheads touching again, your hands intertwined. And then, with a deep breath, Arthur led you out into the night, leaving the Red Keep—and everything it represented—behind.

The midday sun cast a harsh light over the Red Keep, the warmth of the day doing nothing to ease the unease that had been simmering for weeks. The throne room, as always, was heavy with the oppressive air of dread, the courtiers and guards moving about their duties with downcast eyes, hoping to avoid the notice of the king. It was a day like any other—or so it seemed—until the doors to the throne room burst open, and King Aerys stormed inside, his face contorted with fury.

The courtiers froze in place, some recoiling instinctively as the king swept into the room, his robes billowing behind him like a storm. His hair was wild, his eyes blazing with madness, and the room fell silent as his presence commanded attention.

"Where is she?" Aerys bellowed, his voice echoing through the hall like thunder. "Where is my daughter?"

There was a moment of stunned silence as the court struggled to comprehend what was happening. Aerys’ erratic behavior had become all too familiar, but this—this rage, this wild, uncontrolled fury—was something new. The king’s eyes darted around the room, searching for a target, someone to lash out at.

Finally, Grand Maester Pycelle, always hovering near the throne, stepped forward cautiously. His hands trembled as he clutched the edges of his robes, his face pale. “Your Grace... I... I’m afraid I do not understand. Princess Y/N...”

"She is gone!" Aerys shrieked, his voice cracking with rage. "Gone! Stolen from me by that treacherous son of mine!"

The words sent a ripple of shock through the court. Whispers began to spread like wildfire, but no one dared speak aloud. The tension was visible, every breath in the room held as the king’s fury mounted.

Aerys’ hands clenched into fists as he whirled around, his eyes wild as he scanned the faces of his courtiers. "Rhaegar! Where is Rhaegar?!" he roared. "He’s taken her—my daughter—my Y/N! He’s stolen her, and the Sword of the Morning has betrayed me! The traitor... they’ve all conspired against me!"

His voice grew more erratic with every word, his accusations becoming more unhinged. The court stood frozen, terrified to respond, knowing that any wrong move could send the king into further madness.

Pycelle swallowed nervously, his face beading with sweat as he stepped forward again. “Your Grace, perhaps there is a misunderstanding—"

"There is no misunderstanding!" Aerys screamed, his voice reverberating through the hall. "Rhaegar has taken her! Arthur Dayne, that snake, has helped him! They’ve stolen her away—my daughter—from me!"

He slammed his fist down onto the arm of the Iron Throne, the sharp edges of the jagged swords biting into his skin, drawing blood. But Aerys didn’t seem to notice—or care. His eyes blazed with fury, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling with rage.

"And where is the queen?" he demanded, his voice suddenly dropping to a low, venomous hiss. His eyes flicked to where Queen Rhaella should have been, her usual place at his side conspicuously empty.

For a moment, the court held its breath, waiting for Aerys to explode again. But then, in a surprising twist, he dismissed her absence with a wave of his hand, his attention entirely focused on you. "It doesn’t matter," he spat. "Rhaella is of no concern. It’s Y/N. My daughter. She belongs to me, and now she’s gone—stolen!"

The hall seemed to grow colder as Aerys ranted, his madness unraveling before their eyes. Some of the courtiers exchanged nervous glances, but no one dared to speak. No one dared to move. The king was spiraling, and there was no telling what he might do.

"I want her found!" Aerys screeched, rising from the Iron Throne with a wild, violent movement. His eyes glowed with a terrifying, feverish light. "Send out the guards—every one of them! Scour the city, search the lands, tear apart every house, every corner of Westeros until they find her! She is mine!" His voice cracked again, high-pitched and hysterical.

Ser Gerold Hightower, who had been standing near the back of the room, stepped forward cautiously, his face grim. “Your Grace,” he began carefully, trying to remain calm in the face of the king’s rage. “We will search for the princess and Prince Rhaegar. But we must proceed carefully. There is unrest in the realm, and we must—”

"I don’t care about the realm!" Aerys shrieked, his face twisting with madness. "Rhaegar has betrayed me—he has betrayed us! He seeks to steal her away from me, but I will not allow it. I will not!"

His voice, already hoarse from screaming, cracked again as he slammed his fist into the arm of the Iron Throne. Blood dripped from the cuts on his hand, staining the stone beneath him, but the king paid no mind to the pain.

"He thinks he can hide," Aerys muttered to himself, his voice dropping into a low, manic murmur. "He thinks he can take her from me... but I will find them. I will bring her back. And I will burn the traitors—burn them all!"

The final words sent a fresh wave of terror through the court. The burning. Everyone in the hall knew what that meant, what Aerys was capable of when he spoke of fire and blood.

Ser Jaime Lannister, standing rigid near the entrance, looked as if he might be sick, his face pale as he watched the king descend further into madness. He had seen Aerys like this before, but never with such focus, never with such venom. This time, it was personal.

Aerys stormed back and forth in front of the Iron Throne, his hands shaking as he ranted incoherently about betrayal, about fire, about how Rhaegar would pay for his treachery. But in the chaos of his fury, there was one name he spoke with more possessiveness, more obsession than all the rest—yours.

"My daughter..." Aerys whispered, his voice breaking as he stared at the empty space in front of him, his eyes wild and unfocused. "She was meant to stay with me... she is the mother of the dragon. She is mine..."

The madness had fully taken hold, and there was no one left in the room who dared to try and stop it.The court stood frozen, watching in horror as Aerys’ mind unraveled before their eyes, the king consumed by a madness that now had a singular, terrifying focus—you.

And as the madness swirled around him, Aerys made one final, chilling declaration.

"I will find them," he hissed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And when I do, they will burn. Rhaegar... Arthur... all of them. I will burn them all for what they have taken from me."

The court froze in silence as Aerys continued to rage, pacing back and forth, his robe sweeping the ground in furious movements. His accusations about Rhaegar and your disappearance had sent shockwaves through the room, but no one dared to speak, no one dared to move.

And then, a sound—a deep, rumbling vibration—broke through the stillness.

Behind the Iron Throne, in the shadows that had clung to the creature since it made the throne room its lair, Terrax stirred. The black-scaled dragon, large enough now that his coiled form dominated the space behind the Iron Throne, shifted his massive bulk. His golden eyes opened slowly, glowing in the low light, casting a feral gleam across the throne. His nostrils flared, taking in the scent of the room, the madness, the fear, the fire.

The court froze, every gaze snapping toward the throne. Whispers cut short, breaths held in anxious silence. The dragon’s movements had an immediacy to them, a raw power that was impossible to ignore. His tail, long and heavy, twitched, scraping across the stone with a low, menacing sound. The ground trembled faintly under the weight of his massive form, and the air in the room seemed to grow hotter.

Aerys, caught mid-rant, turned sharply toward the sound. For a moment, even the Mad King hesitated, his wild eyes flicking to the shadowed form of the dragon. Terrax had been quiet for days, as if lying in wait, but now, with your absence so keenly felt, something had awakened in him.

“Terrax,” Aerys muttered under his breath, a smile curling on his lips, though it was edged with something darker, something uncertain. “Yes... you feel it too, don’t you? The betrayal. The lies.”

Terrax’s gaze locked on the king, his slitted pupils narrowing as he raised his head higher, his wings shifting slightly, the sound of scales scraping over stone filling the room. The dragon did not roar, did not snarl, but the tension in his body was palpable. It was as though the creature was on the edge of something dangerous, something violent, waiting for a signal, waiting for a reason.

The courtiers who had been lingering near the walls edged back further, fear etched into their faces. Ser Jaime Lannister, standing guard near the throne, tensed, his hand hovering near his sword, though he knew better than to think a blade could stand against a dragon. Ser Gerold Hightower glanced toward the dragon with a calculating look, but he too remained still, knowing the danger that could unfold if Terrax were provoked.

Aerys, however, stepped closer to the throne, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. “They think they can steal her from me,” he muttered, his voice laced with venom. “But you know better, don’t you? You know she belongs to me.”

Terrax’s golden eyes remained fixed on Aerys, unblinking and cold. His massive chest expanded with each slow breath, the heat from his body radiating through the room. There was something unsettling about the stillness of the dragon, as if he were weighing the king’s words, measuring the madness before him.

Aerys, oblivious to the danger, raised a hand toward Terrax, his voice rising again. “You will bring her back to me,” he declared, his words almost a command. “You will find her, burn them, all of them, if you must! But you will return her to me!”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the distant torches and the low, steady rumble from Terrax’s chest. The dragon remained motionless, his gaze locked on the king, but there was a tension in the air, a charge that made everyone present feel as though something terrible was about to happen.

Aerys stepped even closer to the Iron Throne, his eyes burning with the fire of his madness. “Terrax, do you not hear me?” he hissed, frustration creeping into his voice. “You belong to her, and she belongs to me!”

The dragon’s pupils dilated briefly, a flicker of recognition—or perhaps warning—crossing his gaze. His tail twitched again, scraping loudly across the stone floor, and the sound seemed to echo through the hall, causing several of the courtiers to visibly flinch.

Aerys’ hand, outstretched toward the dragon, began to tremble with rage. “They’ve poisoned you too, haven’t they?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Rhaegar... Arthur... they’ve turned you against me! But you are mine, Terrax. You are mine!”

But the dragon did not move. Terrax’s gaze remained locked on Aerys, and the silence that followed was suffocating. It became clear to everyone in the room—perhaps even to Aerys himself—that Terrax was not responding to the king’s madness. Terrax belonged to you, and with you gone, his loyalty was not so easily manipulated.

Aerys’ face twisted with frustration, and he slammed his hand down on the arm of the Iron Throne, the sharp edges of the swords digging into his flesh. “Find them!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and hysterical. “Find Rhaegar, find Arthur Dayne, find her! Bring them back to me, or I will burn this entire city to the ground!”

The court remained frozen, terror etched into every face as the king’s madness raged unchecked. The guards began to move, hesitant at first, but quickly obeying the command, rushing out of the hall to search for the missing prince, the Sword of the Morning, and you.

But even as the chaos unfolded, Terrax remained still, his eyes still locked on Aerys with an unreadable intensity. It was as though the dragon was waiting—watching—biding his time.

And as Aerys continued to rant, the court could only wonder if, when the time came, Terrax would unleash the fire that burned inside him—not for Aerys, but for the daughter of the dragon who had truly claimed him.

[anewstartrekfan]

Why I like Kirk so much and why I think he didn’t resonate as much with general audiences as Spock did

I think what Gene Roddenberry and the rest of the tos crew underestimated is how powerful knowledge of a character can be when they thought Kirk would be popular over Spock. As season 1 progresses while you do get information about both Kirk and Spock peppered through out, how much and how it’s conveyed is important.

Spock is Stoic yes, but surprisingly he talks about his past and what it means to be Vulcan a lot. And other characters comment on Vulcans too like McCoy describing where a Vulcan heart is. Even moving onto season 2, when Spock truly, desperately, does not want to explain what Pon Farr is or that Sarek is his father, he admits these things under pressure. And all of this information is what’s gives the audience an idea of what informs his actions.

Jim Kirk however, despite being very outgoing and charismatic, very rarely talks about himself. With few exceptions, every time you do learn something about his past it’s because someone else explains it or points it out. You’ve got where no man has gone before where Gary talked about their academy days, The naked time while Spock talked about his regrets, Kirk vents that he wants a personal connection and then is literally the only person who is able to will the virus to stop effecting him (on his own I mean) just long enough for McCoy to give him the cure.

The Android copy of Kirk tells us about Kirk’s brother Sam, in Conscience of the king literally everyone except Kirk explains his tragic tarsus iv backstory, we never find out who the Ruth girl is in shore leave, and it’s Bones that brings up Sam lives on Deneva. Even in season 2 in the worst episode ever, the deadly years, when Kirk is in a room alone with his ex fiancé, she explains their history. Not Kirk.

This man is allergic to talking about himself I love it.

Edit: Whenever Jim does even sorta talk about his past, it’s always in the context of what the other people he’s talking to know about it. Take Tarsus IV. Spock tells Jim that he checked the same library records. So when Jim finally opens up at the end of the conversation, it’s information Spock and Bones already know. “I saw him [Kodos] once, 20 years ago.” Then about 10 minutes later when he’s talking with Kodos and trying to get proof, he gives Kodos a copy of the speech Jim heard him read 20 years ago. Saying that he memorized the words. Again, these are things only the two of them would know about. It’s not something Jim exclusively went through.

Then later in Obsession when Jim is talking about his prior experience with the fog, everything he references was in the report he made after the Farragut disaster that he knows Spock and Bones read. There is no new information he reveals about what happened to him or even how he felt about it. Bones has to be the one to say Jim was wrecked with guilt because at the end of the day, Jim will never willingly talk about his past without knowing or thinking the other person he’s talking to has the same information. He will not reveal anything new 95% of the time.

Anyway back to the old blog.

While I’d argue conscience of the king does most of the work you would ever need to explain why Kirk is the way he is, the fact is we don’t learn much about his past through him. Instead it’s Kirk’s actions that inform our understanding of him. Which on some level I like a lot. It’s rare that a tv series doesn’t lean heavily into some tragic backstory explaining why a character acts the way they do. But it isn’t just he doesn’t have multiple tragic backstories. It’s what we know nothing about his past in general. Ffs we didn’t learn he grew up in Iowa until Star Trek IV. It might not even be Riverside! That town just claimed it for themselves and everyone rolled with it.

Edit: SNW did confirm after almost 40 years that riverside is Kirk’s birthplace.

The audience never truly closes the gap with Kirk because he never willingly opens up (at least where I am in the show idk maybe the movies change this) So comparatively Spock just had more going on.

[elen-benfelen]

welsh remus guide pt.3

Third Lesson

Right then, lads. It’s alphabet time.

Often, when looking at Welsh place names, it can seem confusing and overwhelming for anyone who is unfamiliar with Welsh. Sometimes, the confusion comes from not realising that the names are in Welsh. 

Visually, we use the Latin alphabet and so it’s easy to make the assumption that the Welsh alphabet is exactly the same as the English. 

It is not, my dudes. 

To begin with, the following letters do not exist:

K, Q, V, X, Z

Secondly, these are the vowels:

A, E, I, O, U, W, Y 

(Occasionally H is also a vowel but I couldn’t tell you when or why??? I usually go off of vibes) 

Next, are the double letters. They count to us as single letters and each make a unique sound:

CH, DD, FF, NG, LL, PH, RH, TH

NG as in thiNG

PH as in PHil

FF as in Fun

RH as in RHiannon

TH as in THat

Now comes the uh, more complicated sounds. 

For those familiar with German words such as Nacht or the name Brecht, the Welsh CH is that same sound.

CH as in naCHt

DD is like a harder TH sound. It is NOT a D sound. 

LL sounds like hissing. I genuinely don’t know how else to explain this. It straight up does not exist in majority of languages but there are some out there with the same sound (sometimes shown with a different letter). 

To hear it and learn more here’s a better explanation.

This is a really fun video on the different accents but someone mentions the town Llanelli so it’s also a good example of the LL sound. 

And so in full we have:

A. B. C. CH. D. DD. E. F. FF. 

G. NG. H. I. J. L. LL. M. N. O. 

P. PH. R. RH. S. T. TH. U. W. Y. 

There’s no K because the C is always a hard C sound.

There’s no V because a single F is always a hard V sound. 

J is a modern addition to help us with new modern words we’ve loaned from English. Such as Joke becoming Jôc. 

G is always a hard guttural G sound. 

Despite misconceptions, Welsh is actually vowel heavy and we tend to stretch vowels. If a letter has a little roof on it, like “ô” or “ŵ” then it’s an extended/longer sound. 

This means, when speaking English, our vowels are more likely to be elongated. 

Similar to the “r” in Spanish, the Welsh “r” is rolled and therefore many will still roll their Rs when speaking English. 

For a reason I have yet to discover, despite H being perfectly clear and pronounced when speaking in Welsh, when we speak English, a lot of areas have a habit of dropping the H sound. 

“Here” becomes “Ere” or “Yere” 

I am guilty of this. Why do I do this? I genuinely can’t tell you. 

For the reasons above, the following words sound stupidly similar to each other:

Ear

Year

Here

Hear 

As with any language, understanding the basic sounds helps you understand the core of the accent. 

In terms of character dynamics, I would take note that the “CH” and “LL” sounds along with our supposed “lack of vowels” is usually what the language is mocked for. Usually by English folk but other folks, including non-Welsh speaking Welsh folks are perfectly guilty of this mocking. 

Fun fact: I didn’t realise W and Y weren’t vowels in the English language when I was a small child. So I really didn’t get why they thought there wasn’t any vowels in our place names. 

Another thing to note is that the Welsh language and accents are very up and down. It’s not usually flat or monotone. A lot of people also describe them as melodic. Sing-songy even.

Colourful alphabet video with BSL

Shorter alphabet video 

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.4

[thesamoanqueen]

WIP Friday tagged by my beloved @harmshake , @joannasteez and @southerngirl41

A little preview of the next chapter of Blackwater, unfortunately I've been working on so many things lately that I can't keep up with all my ffs, im sorry.

It had happened once, when he was still traveling across the country for the family business, months before he met Y/N. They had made up, Roman had forgiven him and their bond had grown stronger since then, but it could have happened again. Loyalty is never absolute, Roman had learned that lesson the hard way. If his own family, friends, had chosen to betray him, why couldn’t the wiseman do it twice?

- I would never dare, you know nothing means more to me than you! I love you! You are my Tribal Chief!

- But you forgot me to do as you wanted – he reminded him, taking a step forward, feeling his stink, panic, creeping into his nostrils.

- No, no, I would never disrespect you like that, I was just-

- I made myself clear wiseman – he growled softly and Paul raised his hands, to defend himself or slow him down, it didn’t matter.

- I-I… I did it for Y/N! I shouldn’t say it but it’s true, I did it for her! – he finally admitted, gesturing towards the stairs for the bedroom.

She wasn’t awake to hear him, but she didn’t need to be there to give him one of her warning looks, because Roman was already doing it. He witnessed their arguments on a daily basis, luckily they had never gone too far to make him interfere and part of the reason why it never happened, was because the wise man knew to watch his mouth when she was involved. Whatever moment their relationship was going through, whatever was happening, it didn’t matter, Y/N was untouchable.

- Be careful wise man – he warned him, his gaze now dark and Paul understood, as his demeanor changed and he took a few seconds to choose the right words before speaking.

- It’s nothing new, she’s always been… against it… she has her opinion and a lot already happened, it’s probably the prospect of losing someone she cares about that puts her on the defensive – he explained giving him a look that made Roman's mouth twitch.

This conversation was becoming unbearable for him. He was perfectly aware of what Y/N’s opinion was about the feud with his cousins, he was aware there was more than what she was admitting, he was aware of what traumas the past had left in her mind. He didn’t need to hear the wise man explain to him how things were or play the part of the therapist to justify what was happening when he knew they were not on good terms.

- Im her family, she won’t lose nobody – he reminded him exasperated, seeing him show another face that pushed his nerves even further before speaking.

- Of course, no… not you at least, I’m sure she knows perfectly her place is by your side but… you know there’s a strong bond with the twins, im not gonna lie… it’s mutual, at the meeting it was clear that Jey feels it too, you saw it, we were all there and she’s a smart woman, a survivor and maybe- his growl stopped him from saying anything else, but Roman had heard enough by now.

No!

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais

[dailyunstableeve]

Give me one more chance

After RE 5, Jill disappeared.

Jill Valentine x fem!reader

tw: angst (idk if tissues are needed), gore, blood, sharp objects (anything that can stab you :), ptsd

an: can't get over how hot Jill is on death island, mother Jill needs more screen time, it's not enough for me 😭😭😭 did anyone just think that Jill, Claire and Rebecca are like the power puff girls? The way their outfit colours are. Idk if anyone wrote this idea before but here's mine. Ps, my first re ff

Words count : 2.2k

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It's been years since Jill returned from a mission with Chris, and just disappeared. All she did was a postcard in your mail, telling you she won't be returning, probably never. At first, you don't believe it, even on the postcard, it's her handwriting, there's no way you could have mistaken it. You put yourself in a hopeless search for two years, you have given up, knowing that, no matter how hard you tried to search for Jill, and she doesn't want to be found, she'll dodge you before you know it.

You devoted yourself to training, non stop just to keep your mind from drifting to the days where your life was so much better when you're with Jill. You are furious about the choice Jill made and that anger inside you, helped you survive all the challenges you faced alone.

Went on a couple of missions with Chris, Leon, and the others, sometimes might end up going solo but Chris was worried sick about you. You made it back alive, no matter what, it's almost as if you wanted to prove to Jill that, even though she's not here, you made it out alive just fine.

You learn to move on, thinking your life has gone back to normal, then one day, Jill is reported to the mission, together with Chris. You have no idea about the news until you were training and heard the other soldiers talking about how the mission went, about how Jill is not good with team working, afterall, she's used to surviving by herself. You left the training room immediately just to go find Chris and give a punch on his face.

“Ow, what's that for?” He complained.

“How long has it been since your last mission?” You questioned.

“What?”

“With Jill.”

The mood between you two dropped so quickly.

“How did you-”

“I was training, apparently your boys don't know how to keep their mouths shut,” you cut him off, “if I recall correctly, your mission was two days ago.”

“I just reported in-”

“I thought you were my friend, Chris!” You raised your voice.

“I was just respecting Jill, she asked me to not tell you about it,” Chris answered.

You took a second to process the information, you loosened up your expression, and looked at Chris.

“Oh god, I'm sorry,” you apologised, “I don't mean to just yell at you like that.”

“It's fine, Y/N,” Chris comforted you, “there's something you have to worry about, your next mission.”

“You worried about all the missions I went to, it's not special,” you scoffed.

“I did everything in my power to prevent this but, the high up have given out a mission that needed you and Jill to proceed out the mission.”

“What did she say?” You asked.

“The same thing.”

Sometimes, you just wanted to say how brainless the high ups are always putting their soldiers on a mission that's just torturing. At least, you won't be torture by the infected but your time with Jill.

“I'll do it, it's just like any other mission,” you said confidently.

It's not like any other mission at all.

Jill is currently sitting on the opposite side of you, getting ready. It's weird, she still looks the same as the day she left for the mission with Chris, except, the softness you used to see in her, it's not there anymore, probably because you don't feel the same way as you did before.

“Let's run down our mission one more time, shall we?” you looked at Jill, even if you don't wish to be here with her, but you still need to get your mission done.

“Yeah, sure,” she answered quickly, fully facing towards you.

“Our target is to investigate the area out, there's been multiple reports about the infecteds roaming around the area and our job is to clean it up and look for any clues that could lead to why are the infected there, it's simple, except our lives are in stake, so no reckless move, we stay together, look out of each other's six, anything that seems abnormal, report immediately, don't investigate alone.”

“Got it.”

“Good,” you nodded, then went to check up on the pilot, “we're here.”

The cold chill air brushes through your hair the moment you get off the jet, it's felt like you just walked into a horror movie except your every mission is a horror movie.

It's an abandoned facility, it's always it, because the facility has most of the science stuff to help you create a new virus.

The whole time, both of you didn't say a word because even if it's been years since both of you had a mission together, you still remember her movement, it's more that your action will follow up automatically. Everything goes smoothly, a few infections appear when you and Jill are making your way to the control room, then the experiment room, the storage, just everywhere of the facility.

“There must've been a secret room somewhere, it's impossible for the infected to keep appearing outside the area and yet we only encounter a small amount in here,” you mumbled, you don't like it, just like every other mission you’ve done.

Sometimes when it's too quiet is a bad sign too.

“We should try to split,” Jill suggested.

“Did you forget what I said just now? We stay together,” you scoffed.

“But we are not getting anywhere if we keep sticking together.”

“And I'm not allowing you to risk your life like this,” you looked Jill in the eye, she flinched a little.

Call it selfish, but I don't want to lose Jill again.

But the look on Jill's face shows that she'll stand by her idea of splitting up, it could cover more ground, but it will put the risk on high.

“Fine, we will meet back up at the spot we arrived here,” you sighed.

You watch Jill turn her back at you and walk the other direction, it gives you the feeling of how you found out that Jill had left you with just a postcard that doesn't even have a goodbye on it.

You knock yourself out of the thought and continue walking down the hallway, hoping you're able to discover something that you didn't notice just now.

You didn't find anything but Jill did, so you were on your way to find Jill. Apparently she found a hidden tunnel that's blocked by multiple tables, without letting you know, she went down the tunnel herself. You arrived in front of the tunnel only to find yourself getting crowded by the infecteds, they are getting closer to you, some are even climbing out from the tunnel. If the infected are coming from the tunnel then where's Jill?

Please wait for me Jill. You prayed as you fought your way through the infected.

Just like every times, you thought about Jill when you face upon a challenge that you believe you won't be able to get through it, you remember the rage you felt for her when she left you, and you remember the worries you have on her right now that she could be hurt and you must find her quick.

You saw your opening to slide in the tunnel and went for it. At the end of the tunnel is a hallway, dirty, but the electricity is still working, it doesn't look abandoned, it's just no one cleaning it.

“Jill?” You called, nothing responded but a few infected appeared in your sight. You clear out the infected, and manage to find Jill of all the madness you have to kill just to get to her.

Suddenly, the area's light went off, leaving a guide light on to show where you're supposed to go. You have no other option but to follow, it guides you to a huge room, where Jill is currently fighting her life on the infected that's three times the size of a normal one and Jill is badly wounded. You hold up your pistol and start shooting at it, just to find yourself stupid because normal bullets are not going to kill the monster.

You charged onwards, grabbed a long stick that's in your reach and made a jump onto its head, “no one hurt Jill,” you fired seven shots on its head, went right down for the brain. You've killed it, you did, the monster loses its balance and drops down on the ground, so did you, except Jill caught you only to lose her balance to standing after.

“Jill?” You panicked, and you noticed the huge part of her clothing was painted red, fresh red, “oh my god, Jill!” You put pressure on her wound, “how long have you been bleeding?”

“Before you arrived,” she coughed, you quickly took out the bandages you have with you 24/7 and tried to patch her up, “the one who's in charge of here is chained up in the locker room.”

“I'll send someone to get that person!” I called comms and Chris picked up, “send backups, right now!” You cried.

“Y/N,” Jill rested her hand on yours trying to stop the bleeding, “I'm sorry for everything I've done to you.”

“Shut up Jill, you better stay with me and tell me that when you fully recover!” You cut her off, “I didn't get you back just to lose you!”

“Jill?”

“Jill!”

“Hey hey hey, don't close your eyes now!”

“Goddammit, Chris, be quick please.”

“Jill! Don't die on me right now!”

Until Chris and the backups arrived, it was nothing but your cries for Jill to stay awake, because you don't want to lose her again. You watch Jill getting sent back first as you and Chris stayed behind to clean up the mess, Chris did recommend you to head back with Jill but you know she wants you to finish up the mission, so you did.

You took a proper shower, washing off the rotten smell of the infected is hard, after all, you went on a killing spree on any infected you saw, that's who you have grown to. Kill to serve but only when it's about the infected.

Jill went unconscious for a week, and you stayed by her side the whole time. You want the first one she sees when she wakes up is you, you are but Chris is the first she talked to.

“Has she been here the whole time?” Jill asked.

“Yes, she wants that she's the first one you see when you wake up,” Chris gently placed a big blanket on you.

“How can she be so forgiven? After all these years,” Jill looked at you who's currently sleeping on the side of the bed.

“She still loves you Jill, she never forget the day you left her, she used that to pull herself through everyday, no matter how worse the day is,” Chris left out a breath, “and I want you to know that, it's not your fault that you were controlled by Wesker and what you did after.”

“Chris, don't,” Jill stopped Chris, she doesn't want to talk about it yet.

“I'll just leave you with her then.”

“Is he gone?” You mumbled, you were awake, you didn't get up because you felt like Chris and Jill deserve some time to talk things out, “I didn't want to interrupt.”

“How are you feeling?” You asked.

“I'm fine,” Jill answered, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” physically, you are, mentally, you are not.

There's so many questions you wanted to ask, but you don't know where to start.

“I'm sure you heard from Chris about the mission where things went bad for me,” Jill could see the question on your face, that's how much she knows you, “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“But you did, you hurted me the moment you write on the postcard and leave it in my mails.”

“Look Y/N, I know what you heard from Chris and I know you would think exactly how Chris would too, that it wasn't my fault but I hate that I blame myself for that.” Jill tried to explain herself, “I didn't have the courage to come back to visit you.”

“So why did you come back Jill? After all these years, because you being gone from my life all these years made me think that you have found a much better life that I wasn't included in! So why did you come back now, out of all the years you could’ve?” Tears start rolling down your cheek.

You may have told yourself that you have moved on from the fact that Jill just abandoned you, you found a way to live through it but now she's in front of you. The memories you made with her flooded your mind. It made you want to yell at her, cry, scream at her, for leaving you here, when you needed her and she needed you.

“I realise that I can't hide from it forever, that I've left my girl here without a complete answer,” she gently wiped the tears off your cheek, “I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, I know that I'm not worth to be forgiven by you but please let me made it up to you, all those years that I've been gone, please give me a one more chance Y/N,” both of yours eyes meet, you can't tell how much you misses the way Jill looked at you, that's filled with love, and now it's mixture with asking for forgiveness.

“Yes,” you gently hugged Jill, doesn't want to suddenly rip her wound.

“I promise.”

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

an: death island has done something to me. Well, it's not really all full romance, it brings up the past and I just started it with hoping to write something that's close to call redemption for Jill. Even if she's hard on herself during the movie about what happened at re5😭 I wanna let my girl have some rest

Masterlist

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (49)

Part 1 - Part 39 / Part 40 / Part 41 / Part 42 / Part 43 / Part 44 / Part 45 / Part 46 / Part 47 / Part 48 /

Created: March 27th, 2024

Last Checked:------

Go Down in Flames-Plumgal1899 (ff) Summary: Historical A/U. As a female bartender at the rowdy Capitol Saloon, Katniss knows what it means to be a tough woman who doesn't need a man. But that doesn't stop her from wanting one when a sexy young gunslinger, whose talent with words matches his talent with a pistol, comes into town. Katniss can't help but wonder what other talents he has... And she intends to find out.  Got to Be Kidding-hutchabelle (ao3) Summary: This chapter was written for d12drabbles, prompt 11-- Dialogue, “No. Not you. Anyone but you.” Grinder-kismet4891(ff) Summary: That heavy feeling to the air, the dread pricking my stomach from the knowledge that the atmospheric pressure was just a bit off. I knew it was what the old timers call a perfect condition type of day, a precarious day between spring and summer when hot and cold collide and bad things happen. Perfect conditions that resulted in a nightmare of epic proportions. Heathens-ellembee (ao3) Summary: “You have no idea what it’s like here,” Cato says. “Pepper spray and a baton are no match for psychos and meta-humans. We need guns to protect ourselves.” Panem Penitentiary houses the most dangerous criminals in the city. Peeta never imagined his childhood best friend would end up there, or that he’d be the one sliding her dinner through the door. Here is the Place Where I Love You-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: When Katniss Everdeen inherits a cabin deep in the North Carolina woods, she gets more than she bargained for. If I Could Change Your Mind -flythroughflames (ff) Summary: Katniss Everdeen's life as of late has been a series of mundane, lonely events. A random encounter with an unexpected friend from her past might just be enough to turn that all around. Modern AU. Adult themes. Imagine It Was Us-flythroughflames (ff) Summary: Modern AU. Katniss didn't really care to meet new people or make new friends during her internship. She just wanted to learn and make money. The unexpected arrival of Peeta Mellark into her life throws a wrench into her plans. Impetuous-endlessnightlock (ao3) Summary: This fic was born from a horror prompt from katnissdoesnotfollowback on Tumblr: I married a monster. I'm only thinking of another chapter for this. I have way too many wips going on these days :). I Must Have Loved You a Lot-Xerxia (ao3) Summary: Some of what happened to Peeta in Mockingjay, during his time held captive by the Capitol, after the Quell. A missing scene from the book. In All Moments-everydayescapeartist (ao3) Summary: This is set the night of Katniss and Peeta’s one free day together in Catching Fire. It’s what could have happened if Katniss had been just a little more aware.

[thisismeracing]

babe can i pls get a headcannon of Mick dating a Latina💌❣️

Here you go, honey! I hope you like it <3 *mwah*

headcanon requests are closed

MICK DATING A LATINA | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to latinos and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <3

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

I just know this man would have the time of his life whenever you guys decide to travel to visit your family/friends/home.

We saw how Mick likes spicy/Mexican food, so he would totally try every available dish with your family and they would be like "Isn't it too spicy for you, boy?" to which Mick would grin, puffing his red face, and shake his head, "it's too good, I can take it! Just- just need a bit of water." You would find it funny, and tell him you wouldn't take care of him if he ends up sick, of course, this is a lie because you're the first person beside him when his body decides it's time to slow down for a bit.

South America is really diverse, you can find just about everything there, and Mick will love to explore all the countries with you. You'll hike in Machu Pichu, enjoy the winter in Argentina and Uruguay, visit all the beaches, and art expos in Brazil, go around Colombia, and so on. Mick will register everything with his camera, and by the end of the month, he'll put everything together in an album and gift you. You'll tear up a bit because you look so good through his lenses, and he seems to have captured most of the special moments.

Your family will love to see it.

This man will try to learn Spanish/Portuguese before meeting your family. He'll casually throw a word here and there and then finally ask you if you can help him, but it's just training with him because he strikes me as someone who'll be quick to sign up for online classes just to get everything right.

His Spanish/Portuguese has so much accent, and it's just so cute how he'll still want to order and talk to people using their native language. You'll find it endearing.

It won't be hard for him to get used to all the traditions and cultural things. Mick will just love how people are warm and friendly with him, and how he doesn't have to worry about doing things wrong and getting away with it, because people are not afraid of being honest/sincere/forward about things. It's a nice atmosphere to be in.

I can totally see him letting a word or two slip in your idiom during an interview and fans go crazy because you're together for less than a year, and this man is already perfecting his language skills to impress you and your family/friends.

He's just enchanted with your culture and even more in love with you after discovering all the layers and history behind who you are.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I hope you guys liked it! Let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to me <3 *mwah*

taligst: @sachaa-ff @kenanlotus0 @dalsuwaha @mellowpizzapuppy @crimeshowjunkie @mickslover @iloveyou3000morgan @mishaandthebrits @formulakay3 @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @saintslewis @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @f1kota @babyiscrying @smiithys @shhhchriss @lunnnix @leclercsluv @balekane_mohafe @uuuseeerrr12 @karmabyfernando

[fantasyinvader]

Saying history doesn't matter cause it isn't canon to CF is like saying Rhea burning down Firdhiad doesn't matter cause it isn't canon to AM/VW/SS

It touches upon a deeper issue within the fandom, one I feel is pretty central to the discourse as well as the failure of the game's writing. Fodlan was designed with the intent that it not just be a backdrop to the game's story, it was meant to be a world that the player would immerse themselves in. It is a world that, by the creator's own admission, was built to support Silver Snow's story, a story where the Church are the good guys while Edelgard is a villainous lord who betrays the player. So as the player is going around exploring around the monastery or doing supports, they're also encountering information that not only works towards revealing that the Church aren't the villains but also begins filling Edelgard's narrative with holes. The game even uses it's symbolism to push that the routes where Edelgard is an antagonist to be based around knowledge, while her route is based around player ignorance.

It's like a combination of a jigsaw puzzle and a magic eye, it's up to the player to put the pieces together and see the hidden picture that is Fodlan. This requires the player to engage with Fodlan on more than a surface level, and that's where the problem lies.

People like the surface level of Fodlan. They like that the Church is suspect early on and reject the idea that it's all a red herring. They like the idea of Edelgard liberating the people, even if she has to work with other villains to do so. They want Edelgard to open up to the player, learn to trust people, and not become a villain due to the player's influence while Claude can be the lying, manipulative bastard rather than the other way around. And Claude should definitely kill Rhea too. Dimitri has to be the conservative zealot of a lord while Edelgard is the progressive one whose ideals are the best for mankind... just not the ideals she actually talks about.

That is not the game they want, so they do the best they can to ignore that stuff. To ignore the actual writing of the game, instead making it what they want it to be. I have seen the following:

The other routes lie to the player, Edelgard is the one who tells them the truth.

It's up to the player to decide who is right and who is wrong, therefore Edelgard is the hero if I want her to be.

The identity of the Flame Emperor should have changed based on which House you picked rather than always being Edelgard.

They don't like hearing about other routes and the stuff revealed in them.

The game's director and writers don't actually understand their own story, and they only said those things to appease Dimitri and Rhea-stans.

What we say is the actual intent of the game and what they say the intent was can be ignored as death of the author.

People who don't actually play the game and just read the script understand it better than the people who play (I think this means to ignore the acting and just look at the words being said).

I mean, ffs, there's the teacher theory that came about when people realized it disproved the claim that Edelgard is only after the Church and the author said it went against HIS reading of her character. And this was the same guy who created the toxic masculinity take against Dimitri's arc because he didn't want it to be about his mental illness. It was even explained to him that his reasoning was based on a misunderstanding about Japanese culture, and he instead said the onus was on other to prove it to HIM in a way HE would accept.

Or there was that one game journalist who was upset that the game didn't make a bigger deal about him ending the game in a lesbian relationship with Edelgard.

I mean, I talk a good bit about how the translation tones down Edelgard's ending and bashes the Church, but even then there's still a lot about the ending that should point to the actual truth about the game. If Edelgard is about freedom and empowering the commoners, why is Hubert spying on them while putting down rebellions from the shadows? Why is it that no commoner gets promoted under her, some like Alois only have their merit recognized in their endings in other routes, while some endings reveal nobles can still simply hand down their titles to their kid? Why is it that Edelgard restores the Church under her control? Or better yet, why is that Edelgard has no idea what form her reforms will take and will only ponder as such after she's won the war and assumed power over all of Fodlan? Why are we still ignoring that Edelgard lies constantly? Why is her ending title the Flame Emperor and is referred to as a hegemon in yours? Why does Hubert reveal her father was an Agarthan puppet in contrast to Edelgard's claim that he was one to the nobility?

Even from the beginning people were pointing out how the lore of all routes fit better to disprove Edelgard's narrative rather than support it. We were even pointing out the system of inheritance isn't set in stone, with each noble house seemingly doing their own thing years before Hopes came and Sylvain explained that while there is supposed to be a Crest system, the nobility doesn't actually follow it.

As I've said before, people want to believe that they are good and that they do the right thing. So when Houses is piling on the evidence that they did a very bad thing but never (or rarely) outright accuses them of doing so (via unrecruited units), it's just easier to ignore that stuff and focus on the stuff that is instead deemed important. Like Edelgard being a cute girl. Hell, the way they act Edelgard comes off as a villain first and foremost and it's only by joining this villain that you see the cute girl aspect of her.

[destinyc1020]

RE: JE hating Z cause of hate from her fans.

lowkeyyyy 👀 this is where I think of z and taylor swift as similar cause they both have rabid ass fans who will attack at first watch. I remember that interview from a long time ago where tom copied z’s instagram caption as a joke and then he was talking about how her fans were in his comments going off on him. and yeah they laughed it off, but it’s been a known thing that zendaya fans (especially on twitter) are not well and are the barbz of film twitter. It’s weird that before this year, z openly admitted to being a heavy lurker on her fan accounts yet never thought to be like “hey guys, stop attacking these people” 🤷‍♀️ that’s the same thing people constantly harp on taylor for because her fans do way too much online when attacking other celebs

Lol first I think I should clarify what I mean by "hate". I don't think he actually HATES Z. Hate is a very strong word. I just think JE would probably think twice now before dating a woman on Z's level of fame and influence in the future. He might prefer things with Olivia since she's relatively low-key and won't have a ton of fans jumping down his throat if they were to ever break up. Ykwim?

I remember that interview from a long time ago where tom copied z’s instagram caption as a joke and then he was talking about how her fans were in his comments going off on him

Chiiiiile Tom learned that day! LOL 🤣 He even talks about it in this radio interview:

FF [3:25]

This might be a "Confession Monday" comment lol, but I've always thought that Tom's post wasn't actually a JAB at Zendaya, but more so a joking self-deprecating comment about himself? Is it just me?? 🤔

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Holland (@tomholland2013)

I thought he was using her same caption, and putting HIS picture up there and saying "stealing hearts since NEVER" as a joke on himself. I thought he only tagged Zendaya so that she would see the post and so that people would know that it was a nod to HER post. I never got the impression he was trying to put Zendaya down at all. I thought it was just a joke on himself and using her same caption as a cute thing to do.

Is it just me? 😅

Anyway, either way, Z's rabid Stans came and destroyed Tom in his comments section on her behalf. 😭

And see, this is why I need fans to stay in their LANE, and stop acting like they know these celebrities better than the celebrities know each other. Z obviously knows Tom way better than we do, and he knows her way better than we do (even back in 2017 - at the time of this interview).

Fans act all entitled and cocky and get mad on an actor's behalf when they don't even have the same relationship with that person as that actor has at ALL. 🙄

Like, stop! It's cringe! Stay in your LANE PLEASE. 😩 Fans act like the weirdos who try to come into a friendship group acting like they know everything and others in the group are like, please...just stop. You haven't known us as long as we've all known each other. Just stop.

[cafeinthemoon]

King - Chapter VII

Chapter 7

Wordcount 4,3k

Title The Quake

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: basically the same warnings as the previous chapters; harassment against reader (from a guard); mentions of death, blood and use of weapons

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So, this chapter was becoming too long and I decided to divide it in two, so the next one will be published soon and it will be a direct continuation of this one, with a return to a ~familiar scenario and a deep conversation between reader and her not so soft husband 😅

I know the time between one chapter and the next has been too long, and I'm sorry for that, but something that might explain this is that this ff in particular brings a big volume of information in each chapter, and I have to be careful to share the right amount of it each time I post an update. There are still secrets to be unveiled and challenges to overcome here, and I'm using this story to train my patience (and yours as well lol)

Hope you enjoy this one and wait for the next 👀🔥

After staring at the basket for a few more seconds, Suriah put it back on her lap and raised her eyes to you again. There was no sign of sadness or shame in them; instead, you saw a glimmer of mental peace that you’d never suppose to exist in someone who has been enduring this number of adversities.

– I understand your shock – she commented with a smile – After all, a human girl would never survive this. But you don’t need to be so worried about my well-being. Our species are stronger than yours in this sense. Usually, a woman among us would deliver half of this number of eggs a year, and I myself didn’t want to deliver a single one. Besides, in case you’re wondering, they weren’t all delivered in just one day, just like they weren’t formed in one day. It took me at least three days in a row to produce all these ones – she sighed, as if recalling the tiredness provoked by the task – It was such a labor, but after the first time, I started to believe that, if I managed to do this, nothing could be impossible to me. It was sort of liberating.

The silence among the girls persisted. Since you had nothing to say in response, you stood quiet as well. But that didn’t mean you had no feelings towards it.

Liberating? What could be liberating in such situation? And after all of this, how can she still have the guts to say he loves us? How?

Your inner debate might have shown in your face, for Suriah looked at you with sympathy, speaking specifically about this.

– You seem to be struggling to understand how I was able to endure all of this – she shrugged – But I think it was only fair. I pleaded, my husband offered me a deal, I accepted the conditions, but lost the game. I knew where I was getting into since the start, but I said yes anyway. I am the one to blame in this case, am I not?

That was just too much for you. Suddenly, your tongue was released and from your mouth leaked everything that was in your chest; you didn’t care about the possibility of your words reaching Poseidon’s ears, provoking indignation among the wives who agreed with Suriah or hurting her feelings; you just spoke.

– You said that the game was popular among the gods – you started – This can only mean that it’s unknown to most of us mortals. Besides, he gave you an incredibly short amount of time to learn all the rules before sending you to compete with an expert – you took an unconscious step closer to the table – Of course, your chances were few, and he knew it since the start! He gave you an impossible task and he was aware of this! I don’t understand how this is fair! – you lowered your tone a bit, but your rage was still felt in your words – I don’t understand how you can say this is love…

Another low voice was heard before Suriah could think of a reply.

– You see, this is one of the reasons why Poseidon-sama doesn’t like bringing humans to his domains.

It was Melian. You turned to her and saw no sign of provocation or disdain in her expression, only sadness.

– Your love and your justice are just not like the ones of the gods – she continued, serious – You’re always bringing contention and dissatisfaction with you, always trying to unveil things that are supposed to stay out of your reach. You just don’t fear the gods. This is what they used to say around here, and now that we have not only one, but two of you with us, we can say how much of this is true.

That time, the response came from Alyssa.

– We do fear the gods – she spoke with a firmness in her tone that was new to you – We just can’t accept what is unacceptable.

Melian swallowed. Apparently, she would never get used to the human way of thinking. Suriah, still maintaining her calmness, brought the attention back to herself again.

– Tell me, human, what is your name again? – she spoke to you.

– Y/n.

– So, y/n, can you satisfy our curiosity and tell us what kind of offer you’ve received from our husband?

Contrary to what you imagined, you didn’t feel that request as something intrusive: instead, you found in yourself an urge to speak about the contract you sealed, and a weight was taken off of your chest when you did it.

– I was given one year to observe his children training and learn about their most effective combat techniques. After this, I have to find ways to counteract these techniques by figuring out their weaknesses. The methods I will use to fulfill this task don’t matter, but if I’m unable to do it – you swallowed – I shall be just like you.

Suriah seemed to thought of this for a moment before replying, and a new wave of tension built across the room: the girls stared at you with a sort of compassion and fear, as well as relief for not being in your place. Besides, just like you, they were eager to hear what Suriah had to say.

And this was what she had for you:

– A task with its own difficulties – she frowned – It might be harder than mine in some aspects, but easier in others. Also, it might hide surprises, not all of them sweet. How do you feel about it?

Now that everyone knew about your mission, you had no reasons to disguise how you felt.

– I’m nervous. Even scared.

Suriah nodded.

– It’s a good sign. Only a fool would not feel like this after receiving a task from Poseidon-sama. But what exactly do you fear?

– I’m not a warrior – you shrugged – I’m a merchant, daughter of merchants. I only know how to negotiate. My knowledge cannot be applied to anything but this.

The older woman kept her composure. She took a moment adjusting the basket on her lap, then turned back to you.

– Hm… As far as I can see, every human is a warrior, and you are not different from your pairs. Just a few moments ago, you almost swore you wouldn’t have children. Such determination is rare in someone this young. Do not let it die. Take the time you have, girl, and work with all you got. You say your knowledge cannot be applied to your task, but every knowledge is necessary, and it can save us when we least expect.

You swallowed.

– I remember my parents saying something similar when I was a child and didn’t want to study certain topics.

Suriah smiled with sympathy.

– And they were right, and I wish I learned this when I did my negotiation – she pointed at you as someone who gives a mixture of alert and advice – My task was impossible, and I knew I lost since the start. But maybe you have a chance to make a difference, even with these delicate arms of yours. And, honestly, it would be fun if you succeed and entertain our husband.

***

When you left the hall in the company of Alyssa, you had more questions than answers.

– The only thing I know for sure now is that I still have many things to learn about these people – you were saying – The way they take slavery for love is something that I just cannot accept.

Your friend was taking slow steps beside you, with her arm entwined with yours.

– If I was you, I’d give up while I can – she laughed – This got me surprised when I arrived here too, and even now I feel uncomfortable whenever they talk about it, which, fortunately, only happens in rare occasions. But they’re not entirely wrong. For example, when Suriah said our husband doesn’t get along with rebel women, it is true for both mortals and goddesses.

The conversation you had about Amphitrite came back to your memory, but you said nothing about it. Instead, you focused on Suriah.

– I don’t understand how she knows so much about us. Did you make friends with her when you came here?

– Not exactly, but she helped me in the first days – Alyssa explained – She’s one of the oldest women here, so she does this for each new girl. There aren’t rules about experienced wives supporting the younger ones, but it’s a sort of tradition she built around herself. You know, her people are notorious for their incredible lifespan among the mortal species, and their capacity of reproduction, as she explained. She has known many people from many folks over the years and, since she’s been here for years and is one of the most fertile wives, she has some status. The other girls and the servants respect her. And as far as I could see, she sympathized with you.

– I see… – you turned to Alyssa and lowered your tone – And how does he see this?

The girl became suddenly serious. It was unnecessary to explain to whom you were referring to.

– If she has succeeded in her task, I guess it would have been a problem for him. But, since things happened differently, he doesn’t mind. He gets what he needs from her, and that’s all that matters.

Your conversation was interrupted by a voice behind you.

– Excuse me.

You both turned to the voice’s owner, and you recognized the noble girl from the Northern Waters, the same people of the priestess who ran to the waves the day you arrived. You saw her at the dining room, but she took a seat in place away from you. Given that she was a member of her species’ high society and displayed a quiet behavior, you didn’t focus your attention on her, convinced that she held the same disdain for humanity as many of the other women, but now that you had the chance to observe her from close and without the interference of a noisy and unfavorable environment, you started to think you were wrong.

And the shy manner with which she spoke to you reinforced it.

– Are you y/n, the human girl who just talked to Suriah?

You nodded.

– Yes, I am – you indicated your friend – And this is Alyssa. She’s also human.

The girls greeted themselves and the noble introduced herself.

– My name is Taulah. We arrived together with the latest carriage.

– Yes, I remember you – and, recalling the other girl’s fate, – I’m sorry for what happened to your pair that day.

Taulah gave you a sad smile.

– Her name was Doonah. She was my childhood friend. Despite being one of the most dedicated priestesses of our region, she never felt comfortable with the idea of being trapped. To her, the sea represented freedom and movement, so when she found out that she was chosen to marry the god she always loved and served, she was radiant… – the girl lowered her tone, and part of the glow in her eyes disappeared as she recalled the incident – However, after what that servant said, all the happiness and expectations died inside her… and she didn’t see any reason to keep living…

You three spent a moment in silence. Alyssa was the first to speak.

– They did the same when I arrived. There was one girl who succumbed to the guide’s provocation and did the same as your friend. Later, at night, I listened to a melody that entered through my room’s window. It was a sad song that reminded me of a flute. The morning after, I asked a maid about this and she said it was Poseidon-sama’s whistle, coming from the Main Tower.

You and Taulah looked at her at the same time.

– They explained that, every time a wife or a bride dies, he walks to the highest spot of this tower, opens the window and whistles to the outside – Alyssa continued – At the same time, he sends a sacred shell to the depths of the sea in honor of her. When they told me this, I didn’t know if I should cry or be shocked.

You held your breath. So, that was the answer for the mysterious tune, followed by that light you witnessed that night. You’ve been wanting to ask about it for days, but the opportunity never came.

– I heard when he whistled in honor of Doonah – you revealed – It was heartbreaking... and beautiful at the same time.

Taulah’s response to this was composed, as expected from someone of her position, but didn’t lack emotion.

– An appropriate way to honor a loyal, honest priestess. She would’ve loved it.

Alyssa and you agreed. Taulah changed the subject.

– Well, I came here to say that I’m impressed with your courage, y/n – she told you – The way you stood up for your friend and for yourself in the middle of so many strangers… – she smiled – That was incredible.

Your face warmed up to this compliment: getting unexpected recognition from someone you misjudged provoked a strange feeling.

– We’re kind of alone here – you glanced at Alyssa – We need to have each other’s back.

– Yes – Taulah agreed with enthusiasm – Anyways, I wish you luck with your task. And if you need anything, I’ll be here.

– Thank you, Taulah.

The girl nodded, and that marked the beginning of a new friendship, the second you conquered in that strange world, but one that made you think that, whatever the future had for you, it might not be impossible to overcome.

You said goodbye to each other like close allies.

– I’ll take Alyssa back to our room now – you said – She needs to rest.

– Go. Be safe.

You three separated right after, with the girl from the Northern Waters rushing back to the dining room and you giving your arm to Alyssa, following on a slow walk back to the lodge.

***

You helped Alyssa to get comfortable in her bed, adjusting the pillows behind her back, borrowing a cushion for her to rest her feet and covering her with a blanket: she used to take a nap for two hours or three after lunch, while you spent this period reading the books brought by the servants.

That time, however, you would try something different.

– Where are you going? – Alyssa asked with her eyes half closed.

You were preparing yourself to leave the room, changing your shoes for a more comfortable pair and wrapping the shawl you were given by your husband around your shoulders.

– I’m going to visit the Library – you explained – I found out we have permission to use it for both studying and diversion, so I’m heading there to research some things.

– Is it about your task?

– Yes – you walked to the door; and, turning the knob, – My father used to say that a good merchant is always taking opportunities to gather knowledge, and Suriah spoke about my abilities being useful in this task. I need to find something that helps me in this sense.

– I see – she whispered, adjusting her blanket – Just remember that the way to the Library is long from here. So, be careful.

You replied that this was precisely why you changed your shoes, then left the room.

***

Since the wives are previously informed about the premises of the palace they were allowed to go to, one day you took the opportunity to ask a servant how you could reach the Library, the rules for using the books and the periods of the day when it was open to visitors. Now, while recalling the information you gathered, you walked through the corridors searching for the passage between the tower that housed the women’s lodge and the one where the Library was, which, according to the servant’s explanation, was a narrow bridge that connected the two towers in the inner side of the building, at the North Wing.

You were now walking down a staircase that should lead to the place through which the bridge could be accessed, your heart racing with the perspective of approaching the desired place. You looked around and quickly recognized the servant’s description, and the bridge was almost under your sight’s reach...

When a sudden, strong quake hit the floor and spread to the walls and the stairs, reaching your spot and making you fall before you could think of grabbing the handrail.

It came fast, and left even faster. When it was over, you tried to stand up, but found out your entire body was aching, as if your fall happened from a higher place and not the few stairs you still had to walk down. You found that strange, but for now the pain wouldn’t allow you to think too much.

You breathed deep and tried to stand up again when you sensed you were ready. You adjusted your clothing and massaged your forehead on the spot that hit the floor.

You just witnessed your husband’s bad mood.

It was just like the day we arrived… With such a man ruling over it, I don’t know how this castle is still standing! Anyways, thank Heavens he’s far away from here, and I can only hope he stays like this.

It was when you realized your surroundings were no longer the same.

What you saw before the quake was the end of the stairs before you, and the connection between it and the small passage that would lead to the bridge, located at your left. Now, instead of this, you saw yourself in the middle of a long, empty corridor surrounded by high, bluish walls and a ceiling from which a soft, white light descended; you didn’t take long to see that its end was far from your spot. However, the scariest thing was that, when you turned around, you saw that the staircase just disappeared, being replaced by the other side of the same corridor, and this end was closer to you, with a wall identical to the ones on your sides to indicate it, and a parallel corridor that preceded it.

You started walking in that direction, observing this strange location.

– What kind of place is this? – you murmured unconsciously – No doors, no windows, no decoration…

You came to the conclusion that it was just a passage, where people wouldn’t stop to do anything – not even appreciate its beauty, since there was no art in there. Not only this, but the absence of doors that would lead to rooms or to other corridors indicated that this wasn’t an access many people would use.

It was when you stopped suddenly, your heart jumping inside your chest.

What if I’m in a forbidden place?

The idea came to you only when it was too late.

When you were a few meters before the end, a pair of tall, green-skinned guards wearing helmets and holding tridents similar to the one of their master appeared from the right corner and turned it to take your corridor, advancing in large steps toward you.

You took a step back, tightening the shawl around yourself; there was no way to escape, whether running back to your previous spot or trying to pass through them: their legs seemed too long, ideal for a marathon, and those tridents were too long and too sharp besides, you couldn’t tell if they would forgive an attempt to evasion even if it came from one of their Lord’s wives.

The guards were so entertained with their chatting that they almost bumped into you, not coming to this point because you jumped back with a little scream. When they finally became aware of your presence, they fell silent, and the smiles on their faces slowly faded into a suspicious expression.

The guard at the left, who seemed to be the older one, was the first to speak.

– What are you doing here? – and, since you kept quiet, – Don’t you know this area is forbidden for mortals?

You considered saying that you were looking for the Library when you fell there after the quake, but something made you think your explanation wouldn’t be accepted, so you just replied like anyone would in a situation like that.

– I didn’t know that… – you glanced beyond the men – Can you lead me to the exit?

The guard’s response was to glance at his partner, then turn back at you with a grin.

– Of course, we can – he started, taking slow steps toward you – But not without giving you the appropriate punishment.

You swallowed. You didn’t know what that man had in mind, and certainly didn’t want to find out. Before he could reach you, you stepped back and uncovered your ears, exhibiting the pearls on your lobes. The younger guard, who stood in the same place, tightened his lips in apprehension, while his companion frowned. Yes, faking a courage you weren’t feeling was risky, but it was your only chance.

– You can’t speak about punishment to me when I am one of Poseidon-sama’s wives – your voice echoed across the place, though you didn’t speak loud – Touching me the wrong way will mean a problem for you.

The two guards had opposite reactions to your words.

The younger one kept his position, not taking a single step toward you, and even tried to warn his partner.

– We should just lead her back to the women’s lodge – he was saying – We’ll be in trouble if someone sees her with us here…

The older guard, on the other hand, showed no worries for this advice and no regard for your earrings.

– These pearls don’t prove anything to me, girl – he replied in challenge – You might have faked them, just like others did before you. Besides, our Lord has taken hundreds of women as his wives. One more or one less in the counting would mean nothing to him!

– You can just take me back to the lodge and I will grant you my silence in return – you insisted – If nothing happens here, nobody needs to know about this encounter!

The guard laughed.

– Well, I think I’ll pass!

You held your breath. Your strategy worked partially, but that wasn’t enough to grant your safeness, and there wasn’t much you could do about it.

Sorry, Alyssa. But I couldn’t be as careful as you recommended.

The guard stretched his hand to grab you, and you jumped back, but you never managed to take more than two steps away from him. You thought you were going to stumble and hit the floor, at the mercy of that man…

But you actually bumped into someone who was right behind you, and who seemed to have appeared there by magic. The person held you by your arms, keeping you in place.

You raised your eyes, thinking you just got trapped by a third guard, ready to apologize and beg for help, when you recognized him and felt your words dying before passing your lips.

– This is the first time I meet you casually and you are already in danger, dragonet – were his first words; and, with a slight smile, – Why am I not surprised?

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing: how did he reach that spot so fast? And how did he do it without making the slightest noise?

Before you could say or do anything, he turned his attention to the older guard, and a transformation occurred on his face: the suggestion of smile disappeared from his lips, turning his face into an emotionless sculpture of marble, and the blue of his eyes decreased to a darker shade, close to black. You sensed the air getting cold around you, almost like the sea water during winter, and shivers started spreading through your skin.

You glanced at the guards, and the unexpected appearance of their Lord in that isolated place provoked different feelings in each of them, judging by what you saw in their faces: the younger one had his anxiety increased now that his worst fear just came true, while the older simply panicked.

– P-Poseidon-sama…!

You were surprised that he was able to say even those few words: his massive body was shaking in a way you didn’t know to be possible, his eyes were almost leaving their orbits and the green of his skin gave place to a sickly yellow that you supposed to be the equivalent of paleness in human skins.

To anyone who would look from a distance, it would seem that Poseidon showed no sign of his feelings, but to you, who were between his arms, the story was different: though no wrinkle appeared on his forehead nor his lips were twisted while he stared at the guard, the change in his eyes’ color was the clearest evidence of his wrath.

His next words, however, weren’t for the man.

– Stay here – he held your shoulders and made you turn your back on the men – Do not look back.

He took a few steps toward the guard, and you never knew exactly what happened after this. There was no scream, cry or plead from any of the men; you just heard a fast sound, as if something sharp just cut the air behind you, followed by a wet, disgusting noise, that started and ended as fast as the previous one. At your right, you saw a red stain appear on the wall, profaning the blue as it descended violently to the floor.

Poseidon’s composed voice was the next thing you heard.

– Send servants to clean this mess – he was saying – And inform your detachment’s leader about this casualty. He will designate a substitute to work with you.

The younger man’s voice mumbled a relieved “yes, my Lord”, and he left as soon as he could.

When the sound of his steps disappeared in the parallel corridor (you didn’t know in which direction), you sensed your husband approaching you again. You tried to glance behind, but before you could see anything, his hand covered the side of your face and you were forced to look ahead. He took you in his arms and started to walk, without saying a word about what just happened.

Just as decreed by Poseidon during your wedding votes, those pearls were indeed their only warning.

Chapter 8

[learn-welsh]

Grammar: what the ffuck?

'Learn Welsh, why are there two fs?'

It's all to do with the Welsh alphabet! It goes like this:

A B C CH D DD E F FF G NG H I J L LL M N O P PH R RH S T TH U W Y

Yep, 29 letters. All the double English letters (such as CH) are singular letters in the Welsh alphabet! This means F and FF are different letters with different pronunciation.

Singular 'f' is a 'v' sound.

Double 'f' is an 'f' sound.

Read these aloud:

F, ff, f, ff

If you want to try it in a word:

Fant (vant, like the insect)

Ffrind (frind, like ring but with a d)

Hope this helps! I'm really sorry I can't attach audio recordings to help you but I am trying my best to break it down, if you need anything please ask and I will try my best to help you! ❤️❤️