#moon’s haunted y’all

[widogastontask]

Somebody on Tiktok doing a C2 rewatch captured the exact moment that Marisha Ray predicted the future and suggested the moon might be a prison that they might have to have busted Jester out of and just…Matt’s face. He betrays nothing. No more than a flicker of amusement, unattributable. I wish to have the strength of this man’s poker face because *surely* on the inside he must have been cackling gleefully, going ‘Oh you have *no* idea’

[thaliawritesblog]

let's fight the moon tonight guys 🔴

but in all honesty thanks critical role for bringing me so much joy over the years!

[transboysokka]

the moon and water spirits Tui and La come from the Chinese for push (推) and pull (拉) right and in Taiwan you see that shit everywhere because it’s on every door to get in and out of a building

so thanks to y’all fuckers every time I’m reading a fic where someone curses like “Tui and La!” all I ever see in my mind is the front door to my local 7-eleven

and I swear to tui and la you will nEVER see me type that in a fic I write ever, I am haunted enough by that dAMN DOOR

[undercoveravenger]

The Haunted House

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male!Reader:

Requested: Yes

Request: “getting dared to go into the shrieking shack on Halloween (wow, a full moon on Halloween? How weird...) and finding a big scary werewolf waiting for you. Except he's really not all that scary, he just won't let you leave because Remus really likes you and his wolf form can't quite say that, just wants to keep you there.”

A/N: This is post number 4 for the 2023 Spooky Month event. Y’alls trick or treat is coming next Tuesday, October 31st. Hope you’re ready.

-----

The Shrieking Shack had well earned its name throughout the years you’d been at Hogwarts, with guttural screams and groans echoing from it each month around the time of the full moon. You’d heard dozens of different stories- ghosts, ghouls, poltergeists like Peeves. Someone from your Transfiguration class even thought it was some long-abandoned merfolk in a tank that’d grown too small.

Whatever it was though, you were going to find out.  The lot of you had had to sneak out of your commonrooms and were nearly caught by patrolling professors or prefects a couple times, but now here you are with your friends crowding around behind you clamoring encouragingly, you stand just past the fence separating the Shrieking Shack from the rest of Hogsmeade. The full moon looms ominously just over the ramshackle eaves of the decrepit building, providing just enough light for you to pick your way through the snowy yard and up to the front door.

A mumbled spell is enough to break away the locks and rotting boards holding the door closed and you’re able to force it open the rest of the way with a forceful shove. You only allow yourself one fleeting glance over your shoulder at your friends before making your way into the house and closing the door behind you, resolved to completing your friends’ dare and staying the night in the haunted house.

The floorboards creak with every step you take, wavering slightly under your shoes as your weight puts pressure on long-damaged planks as you make your way deeper into the house, each room revealing deep gashes carved into the walls and floors. Tattered strips of fabric from what might have been blankets or clothes are strewn about, stained a dark rust color in places from what you can only assume is blood. Some rooms even have shards of what would have once been furniture, a splintered chunk of wood that may have once been the arm of a couch tossed thoughtlessly against one wall of a ruined living room and the stuffing from a gutted chair cushion decorating an old bedroom, but no matter how many torn apart rooms you explore, you aren’t been able to find the source of the screams.

It finds you.

You’d wandered into what you think was once-upon-a-time a study, an ancient oak desk sitting on two broken legs in the middle of the room and its chair upturned nearby. The contents of the desk had proven uninteresting by the time you’d dug through the second desk drawer and you’ve gotten to the point of boredom that you’re considering just leaving altogether when you see it standing in the doorway. You’re not sure how long it had been watching you, but it stands, still as a shadow, with pitch dark eyes locked squarely on you.

You can see the beast’s raised hackles over the top of its head, lowered so it can fix you with a brutal stare, and a growl so low it rumbles through you like thunder fills the room as it takes a looming step closer. As it creeps forward, a brush of moonlight from the cracked window pane behind you catches it, giving you just enough light to make out further details of the creature.

At first glance, you might’ve thought it was just a wolf, but the longer you look the more your situation begins to sink in. The creature before you was nearly double the size of any wolf you’d ever heard of, back easily brushing the doorknob as it stalks into the room. Its legs are long and its paws splay when it walks like they’re not quite right, but the real telling point are its eyes. It doesn’t look away from you as it approaches, not even for a second, weaving through discarded furniture and debris like it was second nature until it stands just on the other side of the desk from you. It doesn’t look like it’s questioning whether you’re a threat like any other wild animal would, and the growl has started to subside now that it’s gotten a good look at you. The look in its eyes, while certainly somewhat wild, is too human to be anything else.

You’re not quite sure what to do at this point, not with a massive werewolf between you and the door, but being in a werewolf’s den during the full moon certainly can’t be a good idea. With that in mind you begin to move, edging slowly around the corner of the desk in order to not spook the wolf, already surprised by its calm demeanor and unwilling to test its good graces. The wolf allows you to pass by it and slip from the room, though you can hear the heavy footfalls of its paws as it follows you. You move back toward the front door, intent on leaving the same way you’d come, but you’re stopped by the massive wolf letting out another thunderous growl and shoving its way between you and the door. It bullies you on with more furious growls and pointed nips to your heels and hands, further into the house and up a narrow back staircase into a near demolished bedroom.

You obey when it gives you a pointed glare, settling down against the wall opposite the door. A satisfied huff escapes the wolf and it pads after you, flopping carelessly down to lay beside you and resting its large head heavily on your lap. The reason behind the werewolf’s behavior was confusing, certainly, but werewolves had been known to be territorial and prone to violence from what you’d heard, so if sitting here for a few hours while you waited for the wolf to shift back meant it’d keep you safe, then that was a small price to pay. 

-----

It’s not the watery morning light that wakes you, but the shift against you. The aching, tortured gasp of pain that escapes as the person curled against you moves. The sound has you on high alert straightening against your back’s own cry of pain from sleeping sitting up all night, eyes blinking open blearily and finding the now-human werewolf trying to shift away from you.

It takes you a moment to recognize him without his signature posse of idiots and the bright red Gryffindor robes, but you are able to place the jagged pink scars across his face and his curly brown hair from some of your shared classes - Remus Lupin. 

“Remus?” His name escapes you before you can stop yourself from speaking and you can see the way the tension takes root in him, joints and muscles coiling under his skin like he was preparing himself to run from some threat.

He seems to have to force himself to settle before he can speak, dark chocolate eyes examining you thoroughly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? When I was-” He cuts himself off with a clear of his throat, eyes dropping back to his lap. He must’ve managed to track down his clothes from before he’d shifted since he was using them to cover himself. “I can’t really remember anything when I’m… like that.”

“No,” you say, and you can see the relief wash over him, tension easing in his shoulders and he no longer looks like he is going to accidentally shred his jumper. “No, you, uh, well you brought me here and then decided it was a proper time for a cuddle apparently.” You try to force a laugh, though the situation is certainly still awkward, “I thought that werewolves were s’posed to be scary, y’know? Think you’re just a were-lapdog instead?” 

A startled laugh slips out of Remus and he looks almost as stunned by it as by your words, “I- I don’t know. This is kind of a new reaction? I’m, uh, I’m usually not so nice when I’m not myself.”

“Huh,” you say, more curious than ever about the wolf’s odd behavior, “I wonder why you were acting like that then? It didn’t really seem to be aggression, even when you growled at me - more like herding behavior like my uncle’s collie.”

Remus flushes at that. This close you can see the dozens of tiny freckles that scattered over his cheeks and down his jaw and neck. “I… have a theory,” he says quietly, like he almost can’t bring himself to say it. His gaze drops back to the bundle of cloth in your hands and you almost wonder if he would’ve tried to sneak out before you had woken up. You wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. “I think it’s some sort of passively shared consciousness? I can’t really connect to it at all, but maybe it can get a sense of my feelings? Like if I strongly disliked someone, it would probably act accordingly, and if I liked someone…” Remus trails off at that, flushing impossibly redder.

An amused little snort escapes you then and you lean forward, supporting yourself with your arms as you push yourself into his field of vision. “Is this you saying you like me, Remus?” You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you at the way you can already see him scrambling for a response, but you lean forward to press a light kiss to his cheek before he can find the words. “Cute,” you say, grinning as you watch the realization hit him. “Sit with me at breakfast?”

He nods slowly as he wraps his mind around your words, eventually letting you help him to his feet and back into his clothes. The two of you eventually make your way back to Hogwarts through the secret passage under the Whomping Willow that he shows you, taking breaks when he needs them and trading banter and kisses all the way.

And while your friends were curious about the shy Gryffindor sitting beside you at breakfast with his hand curled tight with yours, none of them questioned what really happened to you during your night in the haunted house.

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (part 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (wc: 3.1k)

Summary: With the birth of your child looming, you and Aemond finally lay your cards on the table. A growing problem reaches a boiling point.

Warnings: more lying/manipulation (y’all know the drill by now), Aemond once again gaslighting, mentions of s*icide

A/N: it’s been such a fun time writing this. It is definitely different from most things I’ve written, so it have been a nice change. I’ve gotten so much support from it and I hope to keep making stuff you guys like. Also slight disclaimer that the way I write Alys is not really way I read her in the book. Much like Aemond in this. They both kind of suck lmao. I wanted this to be the last part but then I thought of more things so… we shall see how this goes 👍🏽. I wanted this chapter to be a build up to events in ep 8-10 mainly 9 and 10 of the show.

Fmo masterlist

You can’t remember the last time Aemond and you have had dinner, just the two of you. So, when he insisted you that you two do, you had a feeling it was about the talk Queen Alicent said she wanted to have with him. A private dinner with your husband would have been a dream moons ago.

Alicent did not make you privy to what they discussed. It only made you more weary. You know she is hurt and upset. But you also know she is more hurt that the son she propped up so much turned out to be just as unreliable as the man she made him with.

That is the painful part about love; the only place to go is down.

Nevertheless, his suffering is what you want; it does not matter if the ire stems from a place on genuine care for you. The uncomfortable nature in which he moves the castle makes the pain you have suffered a little bearable. It sounds deranged, but if you are to be trapped, he should be as well. You want him to wake with the same lump in his throat you do.

The letters had stopped. A constantly stream of communication abruptly ended. Lord Strong gave you a funny smile when he told you.

Ser Quinton rarely leaves your side when Aemond is around. He gave you a reluctant glance when you tell him about the dinner. While Aegon, already deep in his cups midday, tells you to keep a grip on your fervor.

The corridor was empty except for the two of you.

“I know how him and mother are,” he point his fingers at you emphatically. “They probably already concocted something to keep you quiet or make you look like the problem. Keep you…. Idle.”

Despite the slurring of his words, and clear bitterness towards the relationship Alicent and Aemond have, he may not be wrong. Alicent had already taken it upon herself to write to your father, suggesting he visits soon. She is proactive to a fault; her behavior simultaneously holding the Seven Kingdom together and enabling her family’s indecencies.

Everything can be hidden under the right tactics and false goodwill. You want to say she got that trait from her father, but you know it comes from years of being a woman in the Red Keep. From being the Queen.

The dinner begins uneventful. You wrinkle your nose at the meat pie in front of you. A dish you normally like making your stomach churn. It is hard not to feel sick or uncomfortable these days. You’re huge; feet swollen and belly protruding to a remarkable degree. The sheer thought of how big the babe will be plagues your mind most days.

It is unbearable having to engage in meaningless small talk with Aemond. Like he is insulting your intelligence by tip toeing around everything.

“Are you going to tell me why you wanted this dinner,” you want nothing more to leave his chambers and go take a bath.

“I think we need to talk.”

You can’t help but scoff at him. Aemond looks even more haunting in the dark lighting of room. Like the brutal knights the septas used to make you read about. He has a nasty look in his eye, like he wants a fight. You wonder if his Alys gets this look or if it just reserved for you. One special thing for his wife.

Despite all the formal swordsman training, Aemond plays dirty in personal affairs. Much like a feral cat backed into a corner. You’ve seen it to many times with Aegon. The only thing he responds to is equally cruel jabs.

“Yes dear husband,” you sigh out of boredom, rolling your neck.

His next words take you by surprise.

“Daella told me she is not excited about her egg hatching,” he huffs out. You stop rolling your neck, and blink blankly at him. The two of your stare at each other before you bark out a laugh.

“That is what this is about? You are pouting because a child is no longer enraptured by an egg.”

“It is not only about the egg, and you know it,” a nasty tone to match the look he gives you. “You fill her head with assumptions. You debase something that is her birthright. Something that is the birthright of her father, and her ancestors.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, if I disparaged the great Targaryen legacy or dragons in front of her it must have been a… mistake.”

You swear you see Aemond’s eye twitch a little at the word.

“Have you ever thought maybe it is not the dragons themselves, but the person she most associates them with?”

Daella’s change in behavior was notable. She never wanted to go to the dragon pit with her father, the few times she does work up the nerve to go it is always with her aunt to see Dreamfyre. She is no longer enthused to learn High Valyrian despite how quickly she picks it up.

You did try to keep your child out things, but kids are perceptive. The way from a young age Alicent kids picked on her strife with their father, maybe she picked up on yours with Aemond.

Aemond’s anger radiates off him. Once the truth finally comes out, the words begin to spill from your lips.

“And do not pretend this is just about Daella. That is an insult to her, and a waste of my time,” you lean forward, and lower your voice. “This about you losing your favor around here, and this about her.”

There is an uncomfortable hush comes over the room. The only sound is the crackling coming from the fireplace.

“She was pregnant,” it comes out like whisper. The spite that was laced through his voice is gone. All is left is confusion.

Your vision blurred red. There’s a painful twinge in your stomach, and you wince.

“What do mean was.”

There was always the possibility this could happen. As naive as it sounds, it was not a thought till ironically Aegon of all people brought it up. If anyone would know about possibly fathering bastards it would be him. Then he promptly told you that the two of you could hop on Sunfyre and burn her to a crisp. The offer that you quickly refused in the moment has never sounded so tempting now.

“I-I do not know where she is,” Aemond admits curtly. “One day she is telling me she is with child, and the next she’s…gone.”

He looks so small; his eye has a faraway look in it. It’s utterly pathetic. You never considered that a greater pain to him would be not only to be seen differently by his family, but also have to reason why he did it leave.

“So what now Aemond? She left you, and you want to just erase everything you have done. Pretend you care or love me,” you say coldly.

“No. I do not lo-“

He stops mid sentence, and an empty smile appears on your face. Neither of you have said it out loud but it is the plain truth.

“Go ahead and say it,” there is a deep pressure in your stomach that won’t go away. The pain only makes you even more upset. “Love requires respect. It requires give and take. You surely do not respect me, and all you ever do is take.”

Another twinge hits the underside of your belly. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, eyeing the door.

“You are not completely innocent in this,” your eyes go wide at his remark. “Do not give me that look. I see the way Ser Quinton looks at you. And now Alys is…”

He trails off. It is the first time you have heard him say her name out loud. Another surge of jealously runs through you. She is gone, and you are once again stuck with the carcass. Expected to uphold your end of the bargain while he frets over a child and mother that never should have been around to begin with.

You refuse to sit and let him turn the tables around on you. It is a struggle, but you manage to get up from the table, but only to have him rise and block your way.

“For someone who has such clear distain for my house. You sure do not hide your fire well… just like a dragon.” His eye flutter down to the scar on your arm, then back to your eyes. You see the blame in his.

“If I was that rash, or temperamental, your head would have been on a spike. Along with your whore’s,” you narrow your eyes. “And I would have made Ser Quinton sully his white cloak, because he would for me. Hells, I would have had your brother while I was at it. It’s not like he has not tried before.”

You are not sure you even want Ser Quinton in that way, let alone Aegon. Ser Quinton devotion is not something you know if you are willing to take that level. And Aegon’s cock has been in half the maidservants in the castle and most of the whores in Flea Bottom. Him wanting you is not special, it’s just Aegon being Aegon. But the deep look of rage in Aemond’s eye makes the statement all the more worth it.

You skirt past him quickly towards the door. His heavy footsteps behind you. Ser Quinton leaning against the wall opposite of the door does not surprise you.

“Are you alright,” he rushes over, concerned when you pause to in the hall and lean over in pain. His hand coming to rub your back.

“Oh well is this not sweet,” Aemond’s bitter tone cuts through the empty hall. “I can handle it from here Ser Quinton.”

Blood rushes to your ears, and you can barely hear the hushed disagreement that begins between the two. Your painful groans becoming background fader to their pissing match.

A familiar snap happens in the lower part of your abdomen, and a pool of liquid flows out of you. Both cease arguing, and you and Aemond share a knowing look.

“The babe is coming.”

Alaric Targaryen came into the world fast, and with a haughty disposition. As if he could tell the family dynamic he was coming into. His cries were piercing and sharp, matching the tears of relief you cried when he finally came out.

You had insisted to only have your lady in waiting and some septas in room, especially after the clear tension between Aemond and Quinton. Helaena and Alicent come in and out of the room sporadically, giving you words of encouragement and knowing glances at the pain you were in. Alicent had been shocked to see her son and Ser Quinton trying to get you back to chambers.

Lord Larys followed casually behind her. He gave that funny smile of his again. The smile he gives Queen Alicent when he thinks no one is watching… or maybe he hopes someone is watching.

She’s gone

Even while giving birth to your son, that woman plagued your thoughts. Aemond could be right; you two have more in common than you like. Bewitched by the same woman.

It took everything in you to look up when Aemond finally came into the room. Acknowledging his presence met remembering how he is half of Alaric. How so much of you belongs to Aemond. You live in his home, dress in his colors, your children will be in the history books as Targaryen’s. He will have ownership over your boy after calling him a mistake. No matter how much you try, you will be remembered as his wife.

If that fact did not make you sick enough. Alicent’s next words did the trick.

“Oh, he looks like how Aemond did when he was a babe.”

You look down at him in your arms. While Daella was a combination of Aemond and you, her brother is every bit of his father. Small tuff of straight blonde hair, lips town turned in a scowl. You did not know a babe could look so refined especially after just being born. The only resembles to yourself you see in his in his big glassy eyes looking up at you.

There’s an energy that gets sucked out you when Alicent hands him to Aemond. She sees the weary look on your face.

Opposed to the elation you felt after having Daella. Dread creeps in; dread that comes from a place of sadness and protectiveness. All you have is your children. Even with the bonds and alliances you may have made, only they are extensions of you. Daella, your sweet girl, a reminder of what could of been. You have Alaric, the flesh and blood reflection of what you have been through.

“Have you two thought of a name,” Alicent asks. Before Aemond, who is still looking down can answer, you beat him to it.

“Alaric. Ser Quinton told the sweetest story about a knight he admired as a child. I thought it would be fitting.”

Alicent’s brows raise but she does nothing but nod. “Handsome name for a handsome boy.”

Aemomd does not say anything about the name. He just quietly hums a melody when Alaric starts to fuss. He turns his back to you as he bounces him in his arms.

All you have is your children

All you have is your children

When you think about a sword to the throat. You don’t know which situation would be more satisfying. One to his or one to yours.

“I am sure you were… relieved to hear about your problem being gone.”

You do not see Lord Larys again till weeks after Alaric is born. The day of a feast Alicent insisted you have to celebrate his birth. Your father and mother writing you that they can not wait to see their second grandchild.

While Daella was a fussy, energetic baby, all Aleric does is sleep and eat. He stares at you with curious eyes. Always taking in the scene around him. He lays sweetly crib next to your bed. After his birth, you were all but forced to move back into the one you shared with Aemond.

“Do you know what happened to her,” it’s been on your mind for since Aemond uttered those words.

Larys tilts his head to the side with a wry look. “You and I both know it is hard to place the whims of a difficult woman, especially a supposed magical one.”

You know he is not just talking about Alys.

She is out there, possibly with Targaryen blood in her and no one knows where is. It does not make any sense. Larys can read the skepticism all over your face.

“It is quite suspicious, witch or not. A bastard woman with no means or worth to her name, gone in an instant. And right after the truth comes out within the family. Right after the Queen and the Prince talk.”

He gives you no help, only more questions. Makes you more suspicious of those you have to call family. In this moment you hate the way he speaks in riddles. He never states things plainly till he is ready to. As if he expects you to do something before he can reveal anymore.

“But look on the bright side princess, your family will be back at court soon enough.”

Alaric begins to coo, as if he trying to tell you something.

“Well, thank you for your time, Lord Larys,” you give him a fake smile. “I should start getting ready.”

Your lady in waiting, Jayne, comes in once Larys finally leaves.

“I quite like this one princess,” she holds up a green and black dress. It is old dress of Alicent’s, one she gave you when you first married Aemond.

A flash of satiny purple in the back of you wardrobe catches your eye. A smile appears on your face. It may be a bit snug as you have two children since wearing it but it worth the try.

“I think I might want to try something a bit different Jayne.”

Your father used to tell you that the strongest flowers grow even when there is little sun. In conjunction, your mother told you that flowers are meant to be admired. Prettiest ones will often be picked and disregarded when a new bloom happens. Wilting was never an option for you in their mind.

You are their lower. Planted, watered, and urged to grow. Even in the deep darkness that is King’s Landing. The darkness they said was critical to helping your house.

The looks you get when you walk into the Godswood, head high in your deep violet dress only spurs you on when in other times it would make you want to hide. Daella and Alaric both in darling lavender outfits. You three stand out against the various muted greens, blues, and greys amongst you. Except for the few specs of purple that you see on the side wooded area.

“My dear girl,” your father’s hug makes you want to cry. Seeing your parents put into perspective how young you feel… how young you are.

Already married, mother of two, and all you want is your parents to hug you and tell you everything will be ok. When your father pulls you to the side and asks you about the letter Queen Alicent sent him, you are surprised to hear what she put in it.

“She said you are having a hard time,” he runs his hand over your arm. “That it is affecting your marriage.”

It should not surprise you she failed to mention her son’s cheating. But the onus being placed on you only proves what you already felt. They will protect their own, so you must protect yours.

Before you can muster up an answer, an anxious looking maidservant comes over with Jayne in tow.

“My Lady, I am sorry to interrupt. I went back to grab Alaric’s sweater. I saw something you may want to see; it was left it your chambers.”

Your eyes go to a box Jayne is carrying.

You must hold back a scream when you open the box and see Alaric’s favorite blanket, the one always in his crib, soaked in blood.

You frantically look over to the opposite side of the garden, your mother happily holding Alaric, Daella by her side. You look over to catch Aemond and Alicent giving you a questioning looks from across the Godswood.

As your vision blurs, you notice box had a tripartite of pale blue, red, and green on it.

“Jayne, please go fetch me Lord Larys and Ser Quinton.”

All you have is your children

Tag list: ok I’m sooo sorry to anyone who does not get a tag. I swear I am not ignoring you. I am only allowed to do 50 which is so annoying bc I want to tag everyone that was kind enough to support and ask. Also sometimes tumblr won’t let me tag certain people idk. If y’all know a better way please let me know, so I can try it ❤️❤️.

@simp-is-what-i-am @rey26 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @crispmarshmallow @dc-marvel-girl96 @stargaryenx @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @neenieweenie @iwanttohitmyself @helloitsshitzulover @lazypinkpig @shisuchiha @leoramage @viperixsworld @luvremlu @this-is-a-bad-idea @landlockedmermaid77 @inpraizeof @blacpiink @carriellie @s0urmarvel @blackravena @bregarc @hvx @let-love-bleeds-red @fangirls94 @v7nt7 @m1ndbrand @highexpectationsgurl @m1tzifa1ry @spaceslutty @elleclairez @kitkat-writes-stuff @paprikaquinn @widemiffyhappy @poisonedsultana @what-is-your-wish @lilliansstuff @rebelfleur22 @aloneatpeace @alastorhazbin @alexa4040 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ensolleildelune @clora95 @yu3kkii @mischiefmanaged2 @its-sam-allgood @papery-maniac

[1toomanyfictionalbfs]

bad dreams

Spencer Reid x gn! reader

summary: you wake in the middle of the night seeing your boyfriend wide awake still shaken up from the nightmare he had awoken from.

warnings : really none, small bit of angst, pretty boy being sweet, fluffy

word count : idk maybe 0.4K

a/n : okay so I haven’t finished criminal minds yet but after watching season 1 episode 10 this has been stuck in my mind and I need to write it but, I just love Spencer so much he’s so amazing I hope y’all enjoy🫶.

The bright moon was high in the sky, quietly illuminating the room as you and your boyfriend lie asleep. You rest peacefully quiet breaths, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath fueled by your beating heart. Though, you lie asleep as if you were a small boat on a still lake, the man beside you couldn’t stop twisting and turning.

Escaping the dream Spencer awoke with a jolt sitting up his eyes shooting open. Feeling this sudden motion pulled you from your own calmer dream. You slowly turn over your mind still drowsy from the abrupt awakening. You see the dark curls leaning over his face, his head in his hands. You reach up placing your warm hand to his bare back causing him to jump.

“Honey, are you okay” you mumble still trying to keep from falling back asleep. He turned to look at you as you slowly sat up, “oh did I wake you up I’m s-“ he started quietly. You quickly shook your head no saying “no no it’s okay what happen are you alright” your voice still low as you quickly checked over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Your eyes looked back to his as he said “no just I had a bad dream is all.” Your mouth made somewhat of an “oh” shape as you nodded to his words. You had none of his night terrors for a long time and though it had happened less frequently there were some nights he couldn’t escape them. You pulled him into a tight hug as you always had saying “well I’m sorry, I just wish there was something I could do to stop them” your tone apologetic, your heart shattering every time you saw the small tears that would well up in his fearful eyes from the thought of all the scary things that would haunt him in the deep hours of the night.

“This” Spencer whispered into your hair as your fingers twirled his own messy curls. His words brought a smile to your face as you felt eyes begin to become harder and harder to keep open, the warm embrace acting as a blanket.

You pull away and reach your hands up to his face, the light stubble poking your fingers as you use your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Placing a small kiss to his nose as you whisper “i love you” hoping your soft affectionate words will bring him the comfort he needs.

He reciprocates the words with a quiet “I love you more” and you couldn’t keep from playfully rolling your eyes “that’s not possible” you speak softly your words bringing a smile to his face as Spencer wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, capturing his lips over yours. Pulling away as you lie down again his arms still wrapped around you, his head now lying in the crook of your neck as you bring your hands back into his hair running your fingers through it. Eventually, you both fall back asleep to the sound of your matching steady heartbeats and the comforting warmth of each other. And for the first time in a long time Spencer had slept through the whole night feeling amazing and well rested in the morning. Even with the bright rising sun that beamed through the light curtains shining into his eyes Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he saw you lying asleep, knowing that he’d found the one.

okay what do we think guys. Lmk if you have any thoughts, or criticisms and yeah again I hoped you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed right have a great day or night and I love you.

[arbiterlexultionis]

Prompt: An Idea I Can Not Get Rid Of,

So it’s y’all’s problem now too.

[Eraserhead, Batman, Tony Stark, Jazz Fenton, Sam Manson, whoever your favorite Tired Adult is] walks into room: Please. For the love of God, and sake of my Sanity. Tell me that that is not a bomb.

[Danny Fenton, Peter Parker, Tim Drake, Robin!Jason Todd, Izuku Midoriya or any other Feral Gremlin Child that you can think of] Innocent Sunshine Child Smile: Ok, this is not a bomb!

Tired Adult: *Pinches bridge of noise, deep breath in* Very Audible Internal Screaming!

Which gremlin most definitely does not have a bomb? Which Tired Adult is stuck dealing with the gremlins nonsense? Is this a crossover? Is Danny about to tell Bruce that the moons haunted and like most other problems in the world the answer is C4? Is Jason getting ready to go revoke Overhauls knee cap privileges? Is Peter gonna slip on some ecto-brass knuckles and Captain Crunch the Fruitloop’s bone?

You Decide!

[hoodreader]

MARTIAN GIRL MUSIC. 🔮 this is for the girls with mars in the first house or tenth house; for girls with scorpio or aries placements (especially mars); for the girls with capricorn mars; for girls with mars aspecting the ascendant; for girls with mars aspecting the personal planets. here are some artists / songs i feel would resonate for y’all.

reading post | reading site

i. Beyoncé. Scorpio Moon and Ascendant. Tenth House Mars.

i’m a scorpio rising truther. she’s deeply empassioned, possessive, and seductive. her love is a bit pervasive — she seems to want to share bodies with her lover. recommended songs: Partition, Haunted, All Up In Your Mind

ii. Kali Uchis. Scorpio Moon and Ascendant.

she’s private, quick to cut somebody off, and protective with her energy. recommended songs: Moral Conscience, Fue Mejor (ft. SZA), Dead to Me

side note: SZA is another martian.

iii. SZA. Scorpio Sun, Mercury, Mars, and Midheaven.

when she wants you, she wants you so much it almost consumes you both. she’s a little jealous in her music. and she’s a little angry. recommended songs: Supermodel, Smoking on my Ex Pack, I Hate U

iv. Normani. Scorpio Moon, Moon opposite Mars, Saturn in Aries.

she’s confident, quiet, and seductive. i kinda envision her as a beautiful serpent. recommended songs: Lights On, Wild Side, All Yours

v. Rihanna. Aries Moon, Venus, and Ascendant.

she kinda got that careless vibe, hedonistic and pursuing pleasure. she’s a sex symbol as well. her patience is thin. she’s dominant, but willing to comply if she decides you’re deserving. recommended songs: I Said It, Kiss It Better, Loveeeeeee Song (ft. Future)

side note: future is another martian. scorpio sun and saturn.

vi. Doja Cat. Scorpio Venus.

she’s probably the most chill ever because all of the libra balancing her out (lmao) but she’s still quite possessive and proud of whoever she’s with. but her patience also appears thin — she very protective with her energy. recommended songs: Been Like This, Need to Know, Niggas Ain’t Shit

vii. Summer Walker. Aries Sun, Mars, and Saturn.

need for freedom, but still a lovergirl. in spite of that, she still don’t really seem like the type of person who like her patience tested. in fact, she seem like despite her chill vibe, she will match energy. recommended songs: Bitter, Girls Need Love, Mind Yo Mouth

viii. Aaliyah. Capricorn Mars conjunct Sun.

she’s so sentimental and sweet. hot take, saturnian sometimes be some of the most romantic people ever lol. but it’s very slow. there’s desire but it’s not necessarily intense (such as scorpio) or feverish (like aries). it’s just very tender. recommended songs: I Care 4 U, More Than A Woman, At Your Best

ix. Sade. Aries Moon.

she’s possessive, slow, sultry. very grown type of wanting. in a way, it’s a little tragic. there’s this one quote that went something like: “i like my hair messy. my love wild. and my sex aggressive. but i’m still a sensitive woman, just with passion.” now contrary to popular belief… that’s the wrong sade. sade HARRISON is the author of that quote. but i think it’s the vibe of sade’s music. recommended songs: The Sweetest Taboo, Is It A Crime?, No Ordinary Love

those are all of my current recommendations for Martian Girls Music.

my readings are open (including custom spotify playlists based on your chart). if there any other planets you would like covered, please send in my submissions. i started with martian because well… (has a scorpio moon chart ruler)

thanks for reading. ✨

[librarian-computer]

I’ve had something stuck in my for a long time and I’m finally going to do it. Fazbear and the Creator has taken up a lot of this region of the country (whatever area tSaMs takes place). Almost everything is animatronics, and humans are on the bottom of the food chain.

What brought this au on? Listening to music ofc

So every member in the family has spiraled in some way and are all serial killers in their own right and murder any humans they can, whether it’s in sight or they play with the human.

Naming off some ones I have so far:

Nexus. Mad scientist, blatant murderer, uses technological weapons.

Moon. Regular scientist, subtle, poisons victims or uses chloroform and murders them then to make as less of a mess as possible

Sun. Daycare attendant, very subtle, refuses to kill children, will murder adults- but never in front of children- murders in secret

Lunar. Candy shop, executor, will have human sacrifices brought to him for him to electrocute until death.

Earth. Salon, blatant murderer, hair stylist that will listen to you yap but if you annoy her she’ll use her scissors to lodge them into your skull. She gets annoyed easily.

Ruin. Theatre, fruity performer that will have volunteers come up onto the stage for a ‘play’ and murder them in front of the audience. Uses a Kris dagger to murder.

Eclipse. Rogue, he prefers to constantly move and never stays in one place, murders in secret. Drags victims off of the street into secluded alleyways and will murder them there. Will use knives of all kinds.

Jack and Dazzle. Scouts. The only two that will not murder. Jack will if necessary and if necessary only. Jack will use his dagger hands.

Glamrocks. Respective jobs to due with instruments, doesn’t murder often, but Monty has murdered the most out of the four. Murders with teeth and claws.

Sunny, Solar’s Sun. Attraction at a haunted house, won’t kill but will lead victims to Moonrise to be killed.

Moonrise, Solar’s Moon. Attraction at haunted house, blatant murderer, murders anyone lead to him by Sunny. He will murder using his teeth and claws

Solar. Butcher. Blatant murderer+cannibal, will try to feed someone human meat, will jump the counter and chop you to pieces. His basement is filled with hanging meats of all kinds, the freezer empty including human meat. Some fresh, non skinned and diced human carcasses will hang on ropes from the ceiling as well. He will use a chainsaw, butchers knife, or a two tonged pitchfork. Hide your kids, he eats them too.

Killcode. Blatant murderer, he just roams around murdering anyone in the streets. Tall murder machine with big and sharp teeth and Edward scissor hand ahh claws.

Bloodmoon. Blatant murderers, they are hitmen that will murder other humans for humans. But you must wear something red for them to even consider you a client. So if you want to kill someone specifically, wear a red shirt :) they have claws and teeth.

Probably a couple of ocs.

Still working on the structure. But I think I’ve got the basic stuff

Let me know if y’all are interested in seeing something for it :)

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙚 & 𝙆𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙨)

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 You couldn’t predict this.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Horror, blood and violence, gore, unrequited love, stalking, murder, paranoia, nightmares, hallucinations, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of sleep deprivation and insomnia, implied/referenced to self harming, choking, organ stealing, spiteful behavior, slight details of broken body, mentions of entrails.

𝘼/𝙉 I originally planned for this to be a oneshot, but I started disliking it when it started typing what I wrote. So I decided to format it this way! Maybe you’ll get the full fic one day!

I saw a picture on tumblr of a slightly scary looking Vere with sharp teeth and it got me thinking! Plus I wanted to try and practice some horror! This isn’t necessarily yandere but you can think that if you want! This is more of Vere being spiteful because he wasn’t picked. If it was anyone other than Kuras, he probably wouldn’t do this (in my mind anyways). Please heed the warnings y’all.

— Jealous!Vere who has feelings for you but he’s not one to be super open about how he feels.

— Jealous!Vere who only gives you nuggets of his feelings, you think he’s just being Vere, a flirt, but he thinks he’s being obvious when he’s flirting with you.

— Jealous!Vere who found out you’re dating that fucking doctor when he saw you both sharing a kiss under the moon in a lonely alleyway.

— Jealous!Vere who’s beyond hurt and angry he starts treating you like how he did before. Sharp remarks coated with sugary playfulness, gaslighting you whenever you try to ask about his sudden change of behavior.

— Jealous!Vere who starts poisoning your mind. He starts stalking you and you believe it’s people from the Senobium. It’s all too perfect and once you’re paranoid enough, he starts tormenting your dreams, turning them into haunting nightmares.

— Jealous!Vere who feigns concern when he hears from Ais that you’re rapidly deteriorating, only able to sleep for short periods at a time.

— Jealous!Vere who starts making you feel like you’re hallucinating when it’s just his shadows.

— Jealous!Vere who caught you self harming in the alley when you excused yourself from the group suddenly. He was beyond amused, having caught you doing something like that and knowing Kuras has no idea about your new habit either.

— Jealous!Vere who scares and confuses you as he just stares at you, blood dripping from your cursed arm. Did his teeth just change? Were they suddenly razor sharp when he licked the wine from his lips.

“Better bandage that. Who knows what you’ll attract~.”

— Jealous!Vere who didn’t tell a soul what he witnessed.

— Jealous!Vere who waits for you to come crawling to him for answers and instead of answering you, he tempts you with a “cure”.

— Jealous!Vere who refrains for grinning as you readily accept his help, and he takes you far away where it’s quiet, the moon being the only witness.

— Jealous!Vere who continues with his story, claiming you have a nasty monster clinging to your shadow and slowly feeding from you.

— Jealous!Vere who smiles warmly at your inquiry again about why he’s been treating you so differently. He caresses your face to further assure you. His smile is inviting, but his stare is not.

“Did you do something wrong? Oh my dear, you have no idea.”

— Jealous!Vere who suddenly has your throat in his hand, tightening when he explains what you’ve done.

“I know you’re foolish, most humans are, but to think that you’re idiotic enough to pick that fucking doctor when I was right there and hand feeding you hints, is downright insulting.”

— Jealous!Vere who forced your knees to the muddy ground, his tail wagging excitedly at your weak struggling and at your confusion and distress.

“So yeah, you did do something wrong. And I won’t forgive you for it.”

— Jealous!Vere who licks your tears and smiles down at you with inhuman, pearly white daggers, telling you that your shouldn’t cry when you asked for this, and how easy it was to ruin you.

“You wanted a cure right? Be thankful I love you so much to grant you your sweet release~.”

— Jealous!Vere who rips your heart out and holds it like it’s a precious gift from the heavens, the organ still beating.

—Jealous!Vere who licks the organ and moans at the blood coating his tastebuds.

— Jelaous!Vere who cradles your dying body in his arms, kissing your skin. And when you’re finally gone he steals your eyes and keeps them and your heart all for himself.

— Jelaous!Vere who drags your corpse to Kuras’ clinic and throws your innards at his window, your intestines decorating the building before he makes his escape.

Bonus

— Kuras who was waiting for your return, was reading one of his little mystery novels, when he was startled by a sudden noise from the window, seeing blood on the glass from the cracks of the curtains.

— Kuras who was well aware it had to be Vere since the little vermin loved leaving bruised and bloodied individuals from fights he won at his doorstep.

— Kuras who didn’t expect to see your broken body when he opens the door. Your torso is wide open, your ribs cracked, heart missing as well as your entrails. Your jaw is broken, and your pretty eyes are gone too.

— Broken!Kuras who feels something hit his head and when he looks up another hits his face, the liquid sliding down the side of his nose and to his cheek. It’s your blood.

— Broken!Kuras who comes out and sees the morbid decoration on his and your home, the sound around him becomes static and his golden eyes shining like hot, white fire and wet with unshed tears.

— Broken!Kuras who can smell Vere’s stench all over and knows what this message means: “We’re even.”

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆ ₊☽˚𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼˚☾₊ ⋆ 

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : you and coryo had gone through hell and back, you've been together and far apart yet you could never find the courage to say how you truly feel for him. so, you wrote them into letter form, but you never sent them. and so what happens when one mr. snow finds each and every letter only to realize that it's too late?

𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : written in letter form from the readers perspective, talks of jealousy and sad feelings, r is definitely from the capitol, self blame, kinda sorta depression, angst, deceit, suicide, coryo finally responds

𝓪/𝓷 : so here’s part three!! I’m ngl I cried writing this and I KNOW people were asking for a happy ending but I’m just gonna tell y’all now that this is angst NO/VERY LITTLE COMFORT! I just had to do it so here ya go! enjoy 😊!

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 | 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽

⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲⋆ 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮: 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 ⋆𓍲˚· ☾ ₊ ⋆ Dear Coriolanus,

Time ticks on and on as does life; but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt and it certainly doesn't mean that pain fades away with each passing day.

I heard from Mrs.Plinth that Sejanus was killed out in the districts. It must be so saddening knowing that your young son who had his whole life ahead of him died out in the districts all by himself. 

I wonder if you saw him die, what were his last words? 

Mrs.Plinth didn’t share much only saying that it was out in the districts and that she was very grateful that you were there for him. 

Yet it also hurts knowing that you upended the trajectory of your life all for Lucy Gray. 

What could she give you that I couldn’t?

People experience pain in such different ways. I remember when you got a cut when we were climbing trees in my backyard and you were stone faced acting like you were okay when I knew you weren’t. You hate blood and you especially hate pain and I know that. 

All of us do really, I too was only eight when the war ended. We all went through the pain of hunger every single day, some even committed heinous acts to survive that will haunt them forever. 

Some cower in terror and pain yet some rise above the pain. Some use that pain and anguish as a motivator to push forward and persevere. 

Like you. 

You know me, the runt of the litter. The forgotten one. Yet not by you, I know you would never forget me. 

Just like I’ll never forget you. 

Which is why it hurts so much to know that you still chose Lucy Gray over me. It still kills me when I think about my best friend, my first and forever love, who I’ve been through so much with choose a girl he’s just met over someone who's been on your side since day one. 

What did I do wrong? Was it something I said? What could she have that I don’t?

Life has quieted down I guess, school is the same old same old, just the same boring day one after another. The Capitol just seems so dreary and dull, there is constant gloom plaguing the sky.

I like to think it’s because you’re not here. My sun, my moon illuminating the dark dark sky, shining brightly amongst the stars that have long burned out.

I really do miss you Coryo,

Yours Truly

Coriolanus,

I heard from Tigiris you’re finally on your way home.

Is Lucy Gray with you?

I wonder if she’s holding your hand at the very second, comforting you about coming back to the home you call hell. Have you told her about your life in the Capitol, I wonder?

Is she truly your home now, Coriolanus?

It seems everyone around me is finding what their lives were missing. Money, power, glory. Yet there is this hole in my heart and my life in the shape of you. 

I will never find home.

Many people say that home is where the heart is or that home is a person or idea rather than a physical place and they’re right.

Because my home will forever be you, Coriolanus.

And it rips my chest apart to know that I will never be able to go home because a pretty little bird has decided to peck her way into my home and build a fragile little nest. It hurts even more to know that you protected that nest.

Are there little birdies tweeting in that nest now?

I wonder if you have Sejanus’ stuff. You really were that boy's best friend, you know that Coriolanus?

Just like how you were my best friend. Before the war, before Celmensia, before Sejanus, before Lucy Gray.

But hey, you’re finally on the way back to the Capitol, right?

You’re finally coming back home to me.

I truly do hope I am the first one you call.

Love,

Your Darling awaiting your call

To Coriolanus Snow,

My grave has been long set for I dug it. I have made my bed now, I must lie in it.

By the time you read this I will have already been long dead. The ache in my chest drove me to it, the numbing hole that consumed my being was no longer tolerable.

My head was drowning in anger, sadness, love. All for you my dearest Coriolanus. 

I find myself writing as if there is tomorrow yet I truly do know that there won’t be a future for me. 

I’ve reread every single unsent letter I have written for you and the gaping hole in my chest grows larger with every word I read for I know deep in my soul that I will never be able to go back in time and tell myself that it’s all worth it because I’m ow that it isn’t. 

It’s ruining my life, Coriolanus, please do not think less of me for it. 

My body has been battered and bruised all my by my hand, my mind plaguing my sanity, my memories, with fields of death and despair. I find now that I find solace and comfort in the thought.

I have dropped out of school, not that anyone would have noticed. I stopped sketching too, you know. It’s just that whenever my pencil touches the page all my hand seems to be able to draw is your face. My sketchbook has been filled with sketches of your face, your eyes, you at that reaping ceremony, you when you went to visit Lucy Gray in the Capitol zoo. All you.

I cant take it anymore Coryo, my heart can’t take it anymore. 

My mind is plagued with images of your beautiful face, your smug smiles, your laughs where you hide those gorgeous hydrangea blue eyes of yours, the look on your face when I hugged you for the last time. 

I replay that moment in my head, constantly. I seemingly can’t stop thinking back on that moment and think about what I could have said or could have given you to make you stay. 

I would have done anything to have you stay, to have you be mine. 

To have you love me back. 

It’s a fickle thing, love. Fragile, yet powerful. It can make one go mad yet it can also ground you. It can drive you to murder for someone yet it can also motivate you to step in front of a bullet for someone. 

It can also motivate you to live or cause you to die.

Some find love a nessecity to live while some find it the reason for their demise. 

My dearest Coriolanus, I’m so terribly sorry. Yet I cannot help but akin love to a hardship. A pain, a pain that no matter how many dates I go on or how many men I flirt with that this pain will not go away. 

I really tried, Coryo, I really did. I tried so hard to move on, to love someone else even when I know a hole is where my heart is and you and only you hold that missing piece. 

I love you Coriolanus Snow. 

I love you Coryo. 

I love you. 

I’ve loved you every minute of every single day of every single month of every single year ever since we were young. It may have been youthful play love but it shifted as the moons do. 

I love you in every memory, every letter, and every dream that we meet. I love you in every minute and my love will forever live on in the velvety petals of pure white roses and pillowy hydrangeas. 

I’ll love you, no matter what, every day, every hour, every minute, every year, for the rest of my life.

I’ll forever love you, even when I’m no longer here.

I forgive you my love, forever and always. 

My only hope that you’ll forgive me.

My last wish is that you finally receive all those letters I wrote to you as a naive and young girl and look back that even now, I’m still me.

I’ll love you forever,

Your Dearest Darling Dead

tagging! @lonely-dreamer

thanks so much for the support and love on this series, it really does mean a lot to me and I hope to see you on the epilogue!

[lilbitdepressed27]

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader Part 2 to The Walking Dead AU

Warnings: mentions of torture but doesn’t go into detail

WC: 3.1k

Authors Note: wasn’t too sure how to end this one. For the anon who requested it. Not proof read but hope y’all enjoy it :) happy holidays!! :D

Shooting up awake, breathing heavily as you frantically looked around the room. Your heart beating fast in your ear drums. The darkness of the room was almost too much, the faint moon light that shined through the curtains was the only source of light. Casting shadows that you could have sworn were in the form of a human or a walker lurking around.

A gentle hand cupping your cheek was what snapped you out of the terror you had been feeling. "Come back to me baby. You're safe here with me." Her voice spoke softly. Like you were a scared deer, ready to bolt at any sudden movement.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Your voice came out more shaky than you had hoped. You had been back with your family for less than a week now. But what haunted you was what happened to you outside of these walls. You had always ignored or buried it deep down in your mind, seeing as you never really had a moment of rest on the days you were alone. But now that you were safe and back with your loved ones, the horrors you had to face had resurfaced. All the death you saw, all the people you couldn’t save.

"It's okay. Talk to me, Y/nn."

"I will. I'm just-not right now Tara. Soon I promise." You just weren't ready. The person you had become in the last year was someone you had to be but it didn't change the fact that part of you was, ashamed.

"Okay. Come on. Let's get some sleep." Tara had stayed glued to your side since you had arrived. She couldn't get enough. She had stay by your side. Afraid that she'd wake up from her dream and you would still be gone. To have you laying under her, your warm arms wrapped around her body in a loving embrace once again. It was everything she wished for.

Since you had returned, not only has she been taking care of you. But so have your parents. Everyone had been so relieved and happy to see you alive. Chad, Ethan and Wes had cried the first time they saw you. She had seen how you also teared up. But what had caused her to question what you could have possibly gone through was seeing all the scars littering your body. She had offered to change the bandages, it's when she saw them so clearly.

She just hoped that you'd talk to her. When you were ready.

*

"Okay sweetheart. You sure, I know you're still healing."

Your dad spoke. You smiled in his direction. You truly had missed him, he had been your partner in crime back at home. "Yea dad. Trust me this ain't nothing. Can barely feel them." Okay that had been a small lie. Your shoulder still ached from time to time. But it wasn't that bad. Same thing with the wound on your stomach. You still really couldn't lift anything heavy.

"Okay just be careful. Now we have to do some repairs on the wall. You remember your wielding classes right?" John had looked at his daughter, it was like she become a shell of who she once was. Especially when he first saw her. He wanted to know who she went through. But he had asked once and was shut down. He didn't want to push her.

"Of course. I was passing that class with flying colors. Now come on old man. I want to be done so I can go see my girl as soon as I can."

As days went on he had seen how his daughter was slowly becoming the girl he once knew. Maybe not quite the same but slowly. And that was progress enough.

*

Sidney watched as you spoke to Tara. She still couldn't believe that after everything you were back with them. The tears she cried from the relief she felt had almost been enough to fill a pool. Just like her husband, she had also noticed the changes in her daughter. From being on edge to still being jumpy when someone tapped you from behind. She had noticed how Tara always spoke before touching you. Especially when coming up from behind you.

She couldn't imagine what you went through by yourself. She didn't want to imagine. She knew how cruel people were. She didn't want to picture what her little girl had gone through. What you had gone through, when she wasn't there to protect you.

The smile that was one your face in that very moment as you looked down at Tara. It was just like before. Even after a year apart the looks shared between the two were still the same. If anything stronger than before.

She couldn't help a smile of her own. She was going to be there when you were ready to talk.

*

The boys and girls stood in a small open field playing with Peter. You smiled as you watched Peter pulling on a rope that Chad was holding.

"Hey Y/nn, how are you doing?"

You looked away from the scene in front of you, to see Sam standing there. A young man standing a few feet away from her. "Hi Sammy, I'm doing okay. Wounds don't hurt as much anymore."

"That's good to hear. Oh this is Danny. He's my boyfriend. I didn't get to introduce him to you earlier."

You looked behind her the man, Danny offered a smile and his hand for you to shake. You looked back at Sam, she had a small smile directed at him and then back at you. Sam had always been like an older sister to you. she was protective of her family which included you. You were the same with her.

"Nice to meet you Danny." You shook his hand. "I uh also want to thank you, Tara said it was you who left that bag next to the boulder, and that it was also you who saved my life." You faintly remember Sam and Danny being trying to help you. "Both of you. Thank you." Tara had told you how they allowed people in to the town. How they watched them before approaching them.

"Hey, we were thankful to be there when we were."

You gave him a nod in thanks. Although now you were kept wondering. How long had he been watching you? Did he see the days you spent looking at the gun. See when you'd load the gun and raise the gun to your temple. Did he see you struggle?

*

The town was busy doing a small gathering in the middle of the town. There was a small part and area where everyone was at. You were sat in a log next to the camp fire a beer in your hand. Tara been sitting next to you but had gotten up when Gale called her over. She had kissed your cheek with the promise to get back to you as soon as she could.

Now you sat with Peter at your feet. He had been munching on a dog bone Ethan gave to him. You had felt so relaxed in that moment. So calm. Peter stood from when he was sitting at the sound of Ethan calling him. A small smile making it's way as Peter looked back at you. With a nod the dog ran off to Ethan. Who was happy to give Peter a steak.

The moment of peace didn't last.

A hand roughly grabbing your shoulder, you couldn't explain how you felt in that very moment. You were no longer there, safely sitting down next to a bonfire. No you were now back in the woods. Alone. The fear that gripped your heart had your hands shaking. You barely registered how you pulled on the arm, that trapped your shoulder. Throwing the person over your shoulder. Your fists unloading the guy, who did fight back. But was quickly overpowered.

"Y/N STOP!"

You're vision cleared, you quickly blinked trying to focus on who exactly you were punching. Your shaky fist had stopped mid punch. Your eyes locking with Frankie's eye. The other eye being too swollen to open. You were quick to get up looking around at the attention that was now on you. They all looked at you with fear and uncertainty.

Feeling all the eyes on you was becoming so overwhelming making you feel like some type of animal. You didn't even realize someone was holding your waist until you pushed them off as you ran away.

*

You had found yourself outside the walls. Not far from the town as you calmed your racing heart. The guilt starting to over wash the fear you felt a few minutes ago. Now you were stuck with the feeling of dread. You didn't know what was going to happen when you got back to the town. Were the people going to be angry. Demand your dad (who was the leader), to show some kind discipline. What if they forced him to kick you out of the town?

"Y/n!? Babe!?"

"I'm over here." You called out, you had been sitting next to a pond. Her arms were wrapped around you in a matter of seconds.

"Don't ever run off like that again. You hear me. Especially coming out here at night by yourself." Tara wanted nothing more than to punch Frankie's teeth in for what he did. She had moved fast to get back to you when she heard the yelling. And then hearing your dad yelling your name. She tried to get to you but you had pushed your dad off you and ran away. Mindy said how Frankie had tried to get your attention but you hadn't heard or cared to give him attention. Well Frankie hadn't liked that and reacted poorly.

She tried to get to you, but she had lost you in the crowd. The first place she had looked was your room at your house. But you weren't there. Then she checked her room. But again, you weren't there. She had everyone looking for you. The more minutes with out finding you, the more she grew distressed. When Dewey said the front gate guard saw you running out the front gate she had moved fast. Grabbing her gun and a flashlight before she as out the gate as well. Hearing the shouts behind her.

Her heart hammering in her chest as she followed the fresh foot steps. "Y/n?" She had called out. Her gun had been in a tight grip, she didn't want to be caught surprised if a walker showed up. The flashlight shined in the dark night.

"Come on baby. Where are you?" She murmured to herself. The light going down to the foot prints. She continued to follow them, light shinning to check her surroundings.

"Y/n?! Babe?!" The foot prints had disappeared. She flashed the light all around the floor. Hoping to see the prints. But there was none. The dirt was a lot drier leaving no traces of shoes. She felt herself panic. Horrifying thoughts filled her mind. Tears quickly filling eyes.

"I'm over here." The relief washing over in waves once hearing your voice. Moving quickly to embrace you in a hug. Before pulling away to look you over. Making sure you weren't harmed

"Don't ever run off like that again. You hear me. Especially coming out here at night by yourself." She cupped your cheeks to make you look at her. Taking in how guilty you looked. A frown on your lips as you tried to look away. "Hey, it's not your fault. Everyone saw how Frankie was the aggressor. Plus he's a jackass. You literally did everyone a favor by putting him in his place." When you failed to look at her. She cupped your cheeks. Her fingers softly creasing the smooth skin.

"Look at me. No one is angry, they're all worried." Her heart breaking at the sight of your tear filled eyes. The guilt in your eyes shinning through. "Come on. Let's get back." Her hands dropping to take yours in hers. Thanking god when you didn't put up a fight.

"Tara...I think I'm ready to talk about what I went through when I was alone." You finally found your voice a little into the walk back to the town. You had been thinking about it and even though a part of you was ashamed. You knew your parents, Tara and your friends would like to know. But first you’d start with Tara.

"Hey, when ever you're ready. I'm here. And I'll never judge you. Never. Cause all I care about is that you're here, with me."

Her hands taking your hands in hers. The love in her eyes never wavering as she looked up at you. The same look she'd always have just reserved for you. It was a look you adored. Feeling her lightly kiss your lips, her way of showing you that she was being truthful.

*

"God Y/n. Don't ever run off like that." Your mom wrapping you in a tight hug along with your father. Tara had brought straight to the front gate where your parents and friends had been waiting.

"I'm sorry, I-I panicked. I didn't mean to hurt him, well a little bit I guess. If I'm being honest. But I still had no right to-Stop, everyone said that Frankie was saying things that were out of line. And he had no right to lay his hands on you. That boy has been nothing but trouble since he's got here." Your father interrupted, leaving you no room to argue. He then lead you and the rest back to the house. Tara was quick to follow, wanting to stay by your side.

Peter had also moved in a fast pace to be by your side. Looking up at you in way that made you feel like he was scolding you in his mind.

"Sorry buddy."

It wasn't long till you were in the room you sat in on the edge of the bed. Everyone had left once they all had checked up on you. Tara was in the bathroom getting changed. She had been hesitant to leave you alone but with the promise that you'd still be there she went to get showered.

"Hey, you okay?"

You looked up to see Tara freshly showered. Her hair still wet as she walked into the room, holding a towel as she dried her hair.

"I had to kill a little boy. His name was Carl and he was only twelve. He was part of the old group I was with. Back in a farm. The farm had been over run by walkers. There were so many. They tried to escape but it was no use. I saw his mother get surrounded by walkers. He saw his mother die right in front of him. She was pregnant. I had to drag him away. We were able to escape to a nearby highway. We stayed there for awhile hoping anyone from the group escaped. But the longer we waited, Carl got more paler." Your eyes filled with tears. Remembering how scared the little boy had been.

"He got bit. He cried for his mother and his father. He begged me not to let him turn into a monster. He was only twelve. Twelve and I killed him." Tears streamed down your face as you took out the picture of the family of three. Handing it to Tara.

"He didn't want to be forgotten. So he gave me the picture." You looked down at your hands. "And I know what you're going to say. That it wasn't my fault, I was with him through the whole thing. How the fuck didn't I notice when he got bit. He called me his best friend, he trusted me and I let him down. He's dead because of me Tara."

Tara didn't know what to say. The guilt you carried was a lot more bigger than she had thought. Even with this she felt like you were still holding back everything else you went through. She couldn't help her own tears, moving to wrap her arms around you as you cried.

"I don't know the kid but if he trusted you and called you his best friend. I know he wouldn't want you to be blaming yourself." Hugging you closer, wanting you to know that she was there for you. "Doing what did was showing him mercy. By shooting you made sure he didn't turn into a monster. Would you have preferred letting him turn and for him to roam around as a Walker?"

"Of course not-Then stop blaming yourself. Shit happens Y/n. Him getting bit was not your fault."

You pulled away from her embrace to take out another picture. Handing it over to her for her to see.

"That's Peter's old family. There was a little girl there. But she had been dead for while. She died of starvation. There was an older girl in the kitchen but she was dead as well. Far longer than the little girl was. She was the nanny. Uh her parents had been away, they tried to get back to her but they didn't make it."

"Baby-Maybe she could have made it you know. If someone had just gotten to her sooner. She could have lived. After the house I was on the road with Peter for a while. That was until I got captured by some cannibals."

Her eyes widen as she looked at you, "Yea, that wasn't fun. They tried to, they tortured first. Trying to break me, I guess. Peter hadn't been taken by them which was good cause they would have killed him on the spot. I still don't know how I managed to escape." You let out a shaky breath remembering all the harm those assholes did.

"Hey, you're not there anymore. You're here, with me. With your parents. Your friends. What you went through, I'm sorry. No one should go through that. Come on. Lay with me. You need rest.” Tara moved to bring you down with her when she noticed how tired you were. Getting comfortable as you laid on her chest.

Tara would do what ever she could for you. She wanted nothing more than to help you. Wanting you stop blaming yourself for what happened. She’d help, in any way she could.

:)

[saturngalore]

brandi nichols for @kashisun’s simblr office

head of records management + info below! <3

26 | pisces sun, virgo moon, aquarius rising | queer

she’s the new head manger of the records management department! although, she prefers the term archivist more (she just got her masters degree in archival studies!)

98% of the rest of the office employees has never heard of records management because it’s in the basement where hardly anyone visits

brandi doesn’t mind it because nobody really bothers her and she can wear or do whatever the hell she wants (she occasionally brings her emotional support cat with her (dulce!!!) to work and nobody minds or just haven’t noticed yet 🤫)

her favorite line to say while training interns and new employees: “this is not how you suppose to do it but this is how i do it”

due the lack of windows in the basement, she’s prefers to eat her lunch outside in the office’s gardens which other employees hardly know about

is constantly wearing her signature headphones and blasting either old or foreign music (there are definitely noisy ghosts in the basement but she claims she wears them because music is her life(!!!)…yeah right girl 🙄)

unfortunately, she’s never hears when someone visits her office and ends up always being scared to death (often screaming or jumping in fright) by the other employees who eventually do to come to visit the records management office to check out some old office files or need access to some super secret company files

likes to go thrifting for vintage clothes, spending time with her cat, discovering new restaurants and food trucks in the area, and making extremely niche historical-based zines in her free time

knows a lot about the juicy office’s secrets and past scandals and legally, she’s not supposed to tell other employees or visitors about them due to company policy

but that doesn’t stop her from occasionally telling the interns, janitors, security guards, and even her pet cat about some of them tho! (the higher ups have tried firing her but who else wants to be in that dusty and haunted ass basement?)

“have y’all heard about the former ceo’s embezzlment and fraud case back in 2004? no? well girl…”

really only goes to company potlucks and parties to people watch and to stuff her purse with all the food she can get away with without being super suspicious (the janitors have definitely noticed and don’t care).

“im leaving here with something, ya know what i mean?”

[enrosadiraanisaaa]

Within Session .Part One.

Hello, this is my first fanfic. After reading several fanfics with Yandere!Leon Kennedy, I thought I hop on the bandwagon. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

🏮-Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝🤠

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

While this chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit. This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, the movie FRESH(2022), ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. They’re all great works, especially the fics with Yandere!Leon *chef’s kiss*. They both certainly have been feeding my obsession with Yandere!Leon in general at this point.

Hope y’all enjoy what’s to come ❤️ ~ Anisssa أنيسة

This is an incredibly short chapter, but a chapter to set the tone 🌙

That Night

A brisk breeze was enough to stir Leon from his sleep, peering from the bed to notice the curtains blowing as the window was left open. From the light of the moon, Leon immediately realized the vacant space beside him on the bed. With an empty exhale, he should have not been surprised she would make a haste exit, even after an exhilarating night. The linger of a fleeting love, her scent haunts him.

After months of successfully saving the dear daughter of the president, Leon Kennedy became undone despite the years of conditioned training. Both incidents in Racoon City and Spain relived in his nightmares, a curse that seemed to threaten his sanity. Now, he misjudged the approach of that woman in red. Despite their separate ways, the universe had a cruel way of bringing her back to him. In the aftermath of their one night stand, he found himself faced with his demons, alone and used.

With all considered, the resolve for Leon was… therapy. To reach out to Hunnigan and be hopefully assigned a therapist from the courtesy of STRATCOM.

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (part 4)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (wc: 4.5k)

Summary: Your paranoia spikes as the safety of your children is put into question. Familiar faces come to King’s Landing as the fight for power continues to grow.

A/N: When I posted the first part, I had no idea this would be the response i get, let alone that I would be making multiple parts. I’m so grateful for all the support I have gotten, and I hope to keep writing hotd stuff y’all enjoy. This part will span events that happened in ep 8 of the show. Ep 9 and 10 will be part 5 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Hope y’all like it, and PLEASE come talk to me. Love chatting about fmo

Fmo masterlist

You tried to make it to your chambers without disturbing the party. Your father seemed confused by you sudden departure after Jayne pulled you away from him.

Ser Quinton insisted going into the chambers before you. There was a sick part of you that hoped she was in there. Waiting for Aemond; or better yet, waiting for you. At least if you saw her, you would feel less… mad. The descent to insanity may be held off by finally putting a face to worst time of your life. You think about the knife trick Quinton had taught you, and if he was right when he said it led to a slow death.

Your bottom lip wobbles when you walk into the room and see red. Alaric’s cot is smeared with blood. Whoever did this did not go to his nursery, they came here knowing you also have a place for him when he is extra restless in the night.

Quinton gives you a look. He can tell you are about to panic and reaches out for your arm. Lord Larys stands there, a dubious look on his face.

“You know it is quite rude to leave you own party. Mother told me to come get you,” Aegon strolls in casually with a lazy smile, and goblet in his hand. His smile falters when he sees the blood and the look on your face. “Seven Hells.”

“We need to tell the Queen,” Quinton pipes up after a beat of silence.

Your mind strays to what Alicent could have said to her son. What Aemond could have said to Alys. The woman that have haunted your thoughts for moon now being in Red Keep… in the room where you rest your head.

You look down at the bloody box, your hands stained red. Time seems to slow down and speed up as you think of what to do.

“This is your house sigil,” you turn to Larys ignoring Quinton’s request. “She was here. That bastard witch was here. She touched my child’s things.”

There’s a vibrating anger that courses through your body. It was not good enough to have your husband, or carry his child. Now she must resort to messing your child, to trying to goad you into a something.

Well, if that is was she wants…

Lord Larys raises a single brow, looking at the box quizzically. A normally self assured and smarmy man just as put out as you. “Maybe we should follow Ser Quinton’s idea by telling Queen Alicent.”

“Tell me what? The feast is about to start.”

Alicent’s rich tone cut through the room, and the four of you turn towards the chamber doors.

“What is all of this,” she gets a familiar furrow in her brow when she sees the blood stained box in your hands. Her doe eyes going from you, to her son, to Quinton, then to Larys before landing on the bloodied cot near the bed.

Alicent rushes into the room, and over to you. You watch as her face falls when she sees Strong sigil edtched in the box and Alaric’s blanket.

“This does not make any sense,” she mutters, shaking her head.

Your eyes flicker quickly over to Aegon, who has an I told you so look on his face. It sets in that any possible reprimand that Alicent gave Aemond was also met with giving him a chance to repair the situation. He had a chance to make a choice, and still chose wrongs. Your imbecile husband.

It is almost a joke at this point. He must really enjoy making you look foolish. That is the only explanation. Before you ask Alicent what she said to him during their talk, a flash of silvery hair at the door catches your eye.

There had been times you thought about killing Aemond. A slip of poison in the goblet, or smothering him with a pillow. Even more lately since you two share a room again. Not ideas you were ever proud of, especially when you thought about your children not having their father in their lives. Living with the grief of a dead father the rest of their lives.

But there’s something about this moment that makes you think you and your kids would be just fine without him. Just fine away from all these people.

“What is going on,” Aemond cautiously walks in, clearly apprehensive of the collection of people in the room. “Your parents are asking for us.”

“Aemond, you should go ba-,” Alicent starts. She is using the voice you have heard her put on when speaking to members of court. Collected and stern.

“This is your fault,” your voice trounces out hers. You move past Alicent and throw the box at his feet. “Your whore left us a gift.”

Aemond leans down to look at Alaric’s blanket. His shoulders stiffening instantly when he sees the box. He looks over at his mother. You have learned that they have their own little language through looks. A connection that can only be expected through mother and child. It only infuriates you more.

“She would not do this.”

Aemond shakes his head in disbelief, and you throw your hands up in frustration. The blood from them now starting to stain your dress. Your favorite purple dress tainted.

“Is her cunt so magical that it is making you blind in both eyes,” you hiss. “She came into this room, and soaked your son’s blanket in blood. Gods know whose blood.”

“My wife-“

You hold a hand up to stop him.

“You have already shown you have no respect for me, but if you think I am going to let your love affair with her effect my children, you are more foolish than I thought.”

Your eyes drifts down the small dagger around his waist. One slit to the throat is all you need. There’s a strange sense of adrenaline that runs through you.

A blood lust.

“We need to all keep our composure, fighting will do no good,” Alicent steps in between you two. “…. And we must remember our stations.”

She eyes you when she says the last part of the sentence.

“Before we jump to any other conclusions, let’s get one of the maidservants to clean this room up, and I’ll see to it that extra guards are sent to all the living quarters. We will discuss how to go forward after the feast.”

Alicent grabs Aemond’s arm in an attempt to pull him out of the room. Your vision blurs with anger. Jump to conclusions? Playing coy and hurt has gotten you nowhere. Your mother was wrong all those years ago; keeping your head is not the always answer.

“That is not going to work my Queen,” Alicent turns back around with a frustrated look in her eyes. “This a threat towards Alaric. And your son’s disrespect of his marriage is directly responsible; what other conclusion is there?”

She sighs before walking back over to you. Alicent takes your hand softly and lays the other over yours.

“Sweetling, do not let jealousy cloud your judgment,” the sweet tone of her voice makes your throat tight. “Anger will not change what happened.”

There is something about the way she is looking at you that reminds of when you used to go hunting with your father. A hobby you hated, but were forced to do when you were younger. You are the doe or wild sheep being toyed with before being slaughtered. Made submissive once the chase is too much to bear.

She hopes you will eventually grow tired of running. That you will take each blow gracefully… Just like she has, just like is expected of a dutiful wife. Is that not what sacrifice is; to become a cold carcass for the dragons to feed on.

Even with people on your side in the room, you have never felt so alone.

“He’s your grandson,” there’s a desperation in your voice that makes you feel so small. Your eyes move past her to Aemond. “He is your blood.”

Your husband is the one that set this all into motion, and you still have to be the one the beg for sympathy. Sympathy for you, and for your children.

“You know I would not want anything to happen to him,” Aemond addressed you with a low voice. Alicent nods in agreement. You bite your tongue that you taste blood.

“Fine, if you both want to make this right, we can do this my way,” you return the farcical sweet voice.

Alicent’s brown eyes darken a bit. As if she knows where you are going with this. You let go of her hand to turn towards Ser Quinton and Lord Larys.

“I want her gone… permanently.”

Quinton’s eyes widen a bit. There had been hushed whispers in the past. Funnily enough, your chivalric knight had the same idea Aegon did. Kill her before it gets too far.

“Sweet daughter, you are not thinking clearly,” the desperation that was once in your voice has now transferred to Alicent’s.

“She made a threat against the son of a Prince of the Realm. That is treason, and calls for punishment.”

“That is enough,” Aemond raises his voice. An unwavering glare pointed on your direction. “This discussion is over.”

You stare in disbelief as he walks out the room. Alicent looks as if she wants to say something, but just sighs and follows her son out. Lord Larys does not even give you a glance as we walks by, trying to catch up to Alicent. Silence permeates in the room, as you stare at the door. Foolishly expecting one of them to turn back around.

“We can figure something out,” Aegon finally speaks up.

A lump grows in your throat. You look down at the dried blood on your hands and dress.

“Give me the room please,” you mutter to him and Quinton. Neither of them move. “I need to change. Just please go.”

Your voice cracks at the end. They both have seen you cry before, more times than you are proud of. But there is something different about this time. More painful; more humiliating. You do not want to be seen this way.

“I will be outside if you need me,” Quinton says softly.

When the door finally shuts, your legs give out from under you. A sob caught in your throat as you take in the room. Your watery eye land on the chest full of dresses. Some a deep red, others vivid green. Pristine and pressed.

Your life sullied… just like your favorite purple dress.

The feast goes as expected. People dote on Daella and Alaric. Aemond and Alicent keep their distance; Alicent spares you sympathetic glances when she thinks you are not looking. Your mother does not seem to pick up on your discomfort. Your father, on the other hand, continues to give you puzzled looks throughout. Especially when you came back in a different dress.

There was a rush of relief that follows when your father suggest the children visiting your home. Anything that gets you away from King’s Landing is welcomed. Even if it is for a short time.

Your worries seems to get push to the side when news of Lord Corlys Velaryons declining health hits the Red Keep. The Queen, who already spends her days caring for a sick king, must now concern herself with the issues that arise from a sick lord.

Daella and Alaric have not left you sight. Much to her surprise and enjoyment, you even joined Daella in the Dragonpit and in the library for her lessons. The constant vigilance extends to them coming with you to the Grand Sept.

Jayne keeping them company, and Quinton watching on as you kneel in front of the candles.

There is so much for you to pray for, you do not know where to begin. Before you eyes can flutter shut, a voice interrupts you.

“I was hoping to find you here,” the familiar deep timber of Lord Hightower’s voice.

He kneels beside you with a gruff groan. Otto Hightower is not a man you speak with often, and by choice. An intimating man through and through.

“I am glad to see you are well,” he starts blowing out one of the incense sticks. “Especially after what happened at the feast.”

As Hand of the King, and now acting in place of Viserys as his health declines, it should not surprise you he knows. It is his job to know everything, but mentions of your behavior still makes you shift nervously.

“It is a shamed. What bullishness can bring; Aemond has always been too proud for his own good, even when wrong.”

You furrow your eyes, and turn to look at him as he continues.

“You and your children are very important to this family, especially now,” he says softly.

He means your money is important to him. He means the fleet that sits on the outside west of Westeros is important to him.

“So, if you still want that problem taken care of permanently. There are those that would be happy to find her and do that.”

Talk of murder in the sept… the irony is not lost on you. Killing Alys means possibly murdering a child. It was one the reasons why you felt so guilty about what happened at the feast. Larys had told you sick rumors, one about what she does to her children. Though your expectation of her are low, you can not imagine even her doing such heinous things. Her state leaves you utterly confused.

Your silence seems to give him all the answers he needs.

“I will leave you to your prayers,” Otto starts to get up.

Alaric’s babbling grows as Daella rubs his head while Jayne holds him. Your babies.

You grab Otto’s hand before he can fully get up.

“After the deed is done, bury her near Harrenhal. Let her be on her ancestral home,” you say lowly, eyes trained on your children before flittering over to his.

Otto gives you a head and a smile before getting up.

Targaryens take care of their own. It is time you do the same. The Mother will understand.

Aemond is tense, even more than usual. At first you thought he knew. That maybe he could smell the anguish on you. The suspicions of him knowing about you giving his grandsire the go ahead diminished when you learned that Rhaenyra and her family were coming back to the Red Keep.

With the Driftmark claim up in the air, the castle is expecting many visitors.

A part of you can not blame Aemond for being on guard. The history between the other side of his family is bad for obvious reasons. There will also be a divide and uneasy feeling now.

It is the anxious feeling that washes over when you see Prince Daemon walking towards you. Instinctively clutch Alaric closer to you, bouncing him as he begins to fuss. With all the self-assurance in the world, there is something eye catching about the bravado Daemon Targaryen has. His confidence would be a trait you admired if it did not often go hand in hand with his arrogance.

The last time you saw the Prince was at your wedding. A surprise to everyone, especially Alicent and Viserys. The joy Viserys showed when seeing his brother dimmed when Daemon made it clear he was not staying afterwards. Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena, his daughters, sending well wishes and gorgeous jewelry. Pearls from the Driftmark Seas and rubies earrings that you are sure from Pentos. Your family frequented Pentos during the summers when you were younger, the three of you crossing paths briefly during that time.

His appearance at your wedding was a confusing to both Aemond and you, especially since he came alone. No Rhaenyra in sight. A crude choice on the princess’ part your mother remarked.

“Ah there is my niece and my grandnephew,” his smile is bright. Brighter than you expected considering why he is here, and the state his brother is in.

You were expecting a cold reception, one to the match the treatment they received. You exchanged a knowing look with Aegon when all of you were told not to greet them on their arrival.

A fake smile fights to replace the furrowed look on your face.

“Prince Daemon, I hope your trip from Dragonstone was well,” you catch how his eyes instantly go to Alaric in your arms. The Godswood is quiet except for you two, and the sound of chirping birds.

“Would have been smoother on dragon back,” he shrugs. “I am glad to see all is well.”

He holds his arms out expectedly. You blink at him, and his blinks back; realizing he is not one to back down, you gently hand over Alaric. Alaric tiny hand reaches out to touch the shiny material of Daemon’s coat.

Daemon resolves brightens even more when Alaric is placed in his arms. You know him and Rhaenyra have had children, with one on the way. You wonder if that positive disposition has been shown to Baela and Rhaena. Or even to Rhaenyra’s other children.

“He looks like his father,” he gives you a sly smile. This time you can not try to muster up a fake smile. “How is he, your husband?”

He is goading you. Even from the handful of times you have been around Daemon, you know he likes playing these games. Riddles and leg pulling; he likes knocking people on their asses. It is the warrior in him.

“He is doing well,” short and sweet, the best way to go you think. Daemon gives you smirk in return. As if in his head, he is laughing at a joke that you are clearly not in on. You tilt your head in confusion.

“That is good to hear,” he does nothing to squash the curious look on your face. The uneasiness comes back. Thankfully before it can go any further, Helaena calls your name from across the garden, stating that Daella wanted to show you something. You can tell by the smile she gives you, it is a lie. You are once again reminded of why you are eternally grateful to call her sister.

“Duty calls.”

His tone is light but his eyes say something more. What they say is something you are still unsure of. He hands Alaric back to you. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back.

The fleeting happiness you got from seeing Baela and Rhaena came to a screeching halt once the petitions are heard the Great Hall.

Who held the throne of Driftmark after Lord Corlys eventually passes was of no consequences. Everyone knew this was for something bigger. To call Lucerys Velaryon’s claim into question meant calling his mother’s as well. There was a sense of disappoint that tugs at you when the doors swept open to show a hunched, and rotting Viserys. His ability to prioritize Rhaenyra over his other children should not surprise you, but as a mother it still makes you upset. You can’t imagine not fiercely defending both of your kids equally. You see the looks on Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena’s faces; it tells you everything, more than the look on Rhaenyra’s.

You raise a brow at Rhaena from across the room when her grandmother announces her and her sister’s betrothals. She shrugs back at you. You want to let out a sardonic laugh. Another generation of girls bound by what good for their parents, bound by what will be good for others.

Thoughts are broken by Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s angry words ringing out. His actions may not be what you have done, but you understand his ire. There is a irony to House Targaryen, one that fiercely protects its own blood to the point of incest, snuffing out another house.

Daemon has a look in his eye. Much like the one he gave you when he asked about Aemond. He is itching for a reason to say or do something. Vaemond gives the perfect opportunity.

Loud gasp fall over the Great Hall when Vaemond body and head hit the ground… separate from each other. Both Helaena and you instinctively turn away in shock. You do not consider yourself a squeamish person, but there is something about it that makes your stomach churn. Aemond’s hand goes to yours, and he squeezes it. You can’t remember the last time you two have held hands.

It could be the obviously grotesque nature of it all. Or how inconsequential lives seem to those who get in the way of this family. It makes you think of Alys. Are you like that now? Years of being in this family making it easy for you to digest moving pieces on a board?

Vaemond’s body gets carried out, with Rhaenys following closely behind. The Queen Who Never Was; life riddled with loss, and now her good brother can be added to the list. You wait for Aemond to let go of your hand, but once Rhaenyra and Alicent finish watching Viserys leave the Great Hall, she sets her eyes on you.

“I was hoping we could have tea,” she eyes Aemond who makes no effort to move from semi in front of you.

Rhaenyra is a hard person to say no to, and she clearly knows it. So, when you simply nod, she gives you smile. She holds out her arm for you to take it. As you two walk out of the Great Hall, you look back. You expect to see Aemond or Aegon looking at you, but instead your eyes catch Alicent’s.

A sad look of longing etched into her pretty face.

“They are darling,” Rhaenyra remarks in a hushed tone as you two watch Daella interact with little Aegon and Viserys. Alaric resting near the two of you.

Jayne had made sure tea and mini tarts had been brought to the Princess’ chambers.

“I am secretly hoping this one is a girl.”

She smiles softly at you, rubbing her swollen belly. You know she must crave that bond between mother and daughter, especially after the untimely death of her own.

“I was surprised you wanted to have tea,” the small talk was sweet, but you knew it was leading to something else. Your walls up even more after your conversation with her husband.

“I was worried that you might have took me not coming to your wedding as… a slight on you,” she starts. “That was never the case. I just felt that it would be best for me and my children to stay away.”

Outside of the snide comment made my your mother and Alicent, her absence did not concern you. You keep that you think Aemond was happy she was not there to yourself. It had been years, and you could count on one hand how many times you thought about it.

“Jacaerys was quite upset with me,” she laughs a bit. “I think he wanted to see if it was actually happening. Uncle Aemond getting married to pretty girl from court.”

You did not return the laugh. You knew little of her oldest boys, the only things you have heard came from Aemond and Aegon. Not positive representations you are sure.

“As we move past that, I want to say that if you need anything, I am here. If you need any help… any advice or a place to stay. You are welcome at Dragonstone.”

The words make your wandering eyes snap to hers. Rhaenyra gives you a look. The Realm’s Delight sitting across from you in all her glory. Her form of intimidation is different from her husband or her half brothers. A presence that is hard to come by, and even more difficult to replicate.

They know.

You don’t know how, but they do. They are dangling it in front of your face. Taunting you, and your crumbling marriage. Showing weakness at this point will do you no good, not until you have proof or an explanation.

“Thank you Princess,” you lean over to pick up Alaric gently. You need to get out of here. “If I need any advice on fickle men, I will come to you. I know have your fair share of experience with that.”

Rhaenyra’s confident look flatters a bit. She hums softly.

“Daella love, let us go see how grandmother is doing,” you pick an excuse to leave. The mention of Alicent makes Rhaenyra frown. Her light eyes darkening with sadness.

As you leave the the Princess’ chambers, it comes to you. How the hell did Aemond and Alys even meet?

You have seen first hand that being around her grandchildren is the only time Alicent happy. Unabashedly sweet and warm; dimples on full display. The two of you had not had a real conversation since the feast, but you knew better than to keep your kids away from their grandmother. It was the quickest way to anger her.

“Rhaenyra would not do that,” her tone reminds you so much of her son. So certain, as if it was an insult to question the virtue of the people they… love. “Maybe she actually wants to help.”

“They both know. I cannot explain it, but they know about Alys or they at least know she was here.”

Her shoulder slump as Alaric reaches out to touch the large seven pointed star dangling from her neck. Alicent’s ability to defend Rhaenyra will always leave you a bit speechless. If one of the boys ever said something disparaging about their half-sister, Alicent was the first to give them a warning look. She was allowed to be upset, they were not. A fractured relationship being held together by longing.

“I understand it…. How hard it is,” you shuffle closer to her. “Having your mind consumed by someone who does not extend that same grace for your feelings.”

“I did not think she would go after the children,” Alicent whispers. “I get why you would want her…”

She trails off. Her big eyes get glassy, and she swallows thickly. She does not say anything as she looks into fire. She reminds you of a painted tapestry. Beautiful and tragic.

“Princess Rhaenyra may not have orchestrated anything. But do we put it past Prince Daemon?”

“We will figure it out,” Alicent says after a bit of silence. “You are right, something is off.”

A thought comes to your mind. “Do you know what Prince Daemon for Aemond as wedding gift?”

Daemon never got you a gift, simply giving you the ones Baela and Rhaena sent. But you vividly remember him getting Aemond something. Alicent thinks for a second for her brows raise in realization.

“A book of stories about warriors from the across the Realm,” how was he putting that to good use, “Oh, a map of the red keep. I silly wedding gift if you ask me.”

She shrugs. Your eyes go to fire to. A map seems inconsequential enough, but as your growing paranoia seeps into everything it becomes clear.

You must find this map.

Tag list (sorry to anyone I miss): @callsign-blue @hydrationqueensworld @flowerpotmage @giulia2372 @lol-im-done @dc-marvel-girl96 @iwanttohitmyself @crazylokonugget @xkennobi @tiddieshakeshownu @lwqfhp @lyra689 @ietss @enbywan @rialikesbts @lyannesworld @mendes-bae @123forgottherest @yentroucnagol @cecespizza01 @mihrimahsultan03 @hotd-fic @the-time-is-a-thief @kaicyl @ly17 @bbylime @stella-cadente @bellameshipper @happinessinthebeing @shamelessblazecrown @whodis-26 @queenofshinigamis @minthermie @aloneatpeace @psychadelichues @oh-thats-cute @vgucciking @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @zondereleutheromania @liathelioness @msmarvel-19 @archikina @lady-stark-winter-rose @dcfamily5807

[tequiilasunriise]

Annabel Lee & Fears: A Short Essay Based On Ep70

Here it is, folks, the truest crux of Annabel’s character, her deepest fears is not going mad or even people discovering she’s not as put together as she tries to appear, but rather:

Was that gambit of constant scheming and using others worth it, Annabel? Was always trying to think ten steps ahead and always keep yourself in a position of power and control truly worth it, because how can you ever be trusted when all you do is play 5D chess with everyone?

There is is, folks!!! Just like her greatest strength- her cunning willpower- is centered around a certain bright moon, Annabel’s greatest fear is rooted in Lenore. The deepest, darkest trenches of her soul, the one thing that would shatter her heart and send her lungs choking fer breath? The killing blow that would end her and make all these charades worthless? It’s Lenore seeing her constant conniving and asking Annabel, “Why would I be any different? You already have no problem using everyone else as a pawn, how could I ever possibly trust you, Annabel Lee?”

The way Annabel is SUCH a great morally grey character, y’all tell me you love hot villains yet many a time I’ve seen people calling Annabel too heartless. She’s the opposite! She cares!! SO MUCH!!! She would burn the world down if it meant kissing Lenore one last time, to the point where her deepest fear is losing Lenore in the process of trying to protect her. All Annabel knows is using manipulation to gain the upper hand because simply being born a woman in the Victorian era she was so throughly disadvantaged by such a horribly misogynistic society that girlypop had to scrape together any form of control she could. Annabel wants so badly to protect Lenore but all she knows are her own methods of protecting herself, which involves plausibility deniability and facades and sometimes sheer cruelty, and that’s where the conflict arises. From the start Annabel assumed Lenore and her had the same understanding of this ‘fake enemies’ ploy going on but surprise surprise babygirl, not everyone is overthinking four parallel universes ahead like you do. This boils over into her lover having doubts on what’s real and what’s not, which then culminates into Lenore asking if Annabel is using her affections as empty currency to get what she wants, and Annabel’s first move to tell Lenore to fucken kill her????

“To you alone, I have left myself completely defenseless.”

The drama of it all!! The shattered facade leading to exploding vulnerability of it all!! The dim sun sparking out into a heat death just to prove her sincerity of it all!!! The exposed innermost organs ripping out my heart with my bare hands and begging you, “Do you see it now? Do you see the way it beats for you and only you? Tell me you see it, tell me you see me…” of it all!!

Oh baby the way Annabel still retains this deep fear of Lenore not truly believing in the “only thing that’s real” to her, the way her lover’s ghost still lingers and haunts her and is then ripped up from her innermost psyche like a desecrated grave and given form by Ada’s power. The way, after all this time- and I mean all this time from Lenore’s constructed resurrection, to their relationship blossoming into a wedding, all the fucking way up to that bell tower scene, the fucken way Annabel still never truly let go of her fear that Lenore doesn’t see her, doesn’t see how she alone bashed through all of Annabel’s walls and made a home where her heart laid. I’m sure during their living relationship all the way until the wedding Annabel’s fears were greatly settled, but it’s the fucken way these panels implied that this wretched heartache never completely left Annabel’s guilt-wracked soul.

I just know, okay I just KNOW, that even up until she was putting her wedding dress on Annabel still questioned if she even deserved this happy ending because she still feel phantoms of guilt fer this betrayal. This comic only furthers this implication of unabsolved guilt when it’s made clear as day that Annabel’s biggest fear is Lenore not believing in her love. And before anyone argues how Annabel can currently feel guilt fer betraying Lenore when she hasn’t recovered the memory yet, I’ll argue back that from the very beginning of the comic these two were inexplicably drawn to each other even when they had NO memories. Therefore, even if she doesn’t have the explicit memory, I highly doubt Annabel’s subconscious would ever let go of something as huge as deeply hurting the one person she truly cared about in such a wretched way.

Fuck, dude, I mean Annabel’s greatest fear wasn’t even Lenore dying- which was already a huge thing if y’all remember her tearstreaked, panicked, “What is left? If she’s not here, what’s the point?”- no her greatest is Lenore!!! Not!!! Believing!! Her!!! Like yeah losing Lenore physically definitely would’ve cut so deep even her bones would bear the scars, but losing Lenore in the form of the other woman walking the same ground as her but choosing to stay away?? Call her fucking selfish because some people would rather have their other half still be alive even if they’re not by their side, but Annabel ain’t one of them that’s fer sure. Babygirl has spent a lifetime perfecting the craft of deceiving others fer her own gain, but the ONE TIME she’s genuine her heart is to be called nothing more but empty??? Oh babbyyy that’s gotta fucken hurt.

The thing is, I don’t think Annabel really loves herself all that much. I really don’t. A huge focus on self-preservation doesn’t necessarily mean one really loves themselves, and when we add the aforementioned guilt she carries? Plus, the fact that Annabel being forced to swallow down her anxiety attacks from a young age could easily lead to her having a rather sour view of her 'not normal' self? Yeah no yeah, I truly don’t think Annabel loves herself that much, if at all. So really, this line is adding immense insult to already grievous injury. Not only does Annabel deeply fear Lenore not believing her affections to be true, she also fears the New Yorker misconstruing her as nothing more but a shallow as hell, prissy, little pampered damsel, a role pretty much everyone else regulates her into whether she wants it or not (right from the beginning, before she even set her schemes in full effect, Annabel was already explaining, “Ada wanted a queen, so I gave her one”). Lenore, the only one Annabel had believed to ever really see her fer her, is now discrediting Annabel’s vulnerable affections AND seeing her as that unloving ice queen like everyone else?? Horrible terrible horrible!!! She may have a ribbon threatening to strangle her right now, but it’s clear that ghost!Lenore’s words are what truly cut her down to size. Y’all seeing that fucken pain in Annabel’s eyes? Her worst fear is just so… personal.

Which actually leads me to my next point, which is how just before Annabel’s worst fear is revealed in stark, horrifying detail, we see Prospero’s. Lemme just preface this by saying what Prospero went through is n o t any less terrible and is a super fucken mega valid fear/trauma, but let me cook y’all just hear me out. Prospero’s fear seems to be about medical malpractice and/or being conscious during a painful operation that likely went south (aka ‘oh shiiitttt he fucken DEAD-‘), and that’s fucking tragic as all hell. Yet, okay let me cook here, it’s more… I don’t want to say general, because that does NOT mean his fear is any less significant but it’s like. Way back when, death via medical bullshit was more or less fairly common, especially during wartimes (which is the era I headcanon Prospero to be from); meanwhile, Annabel’s fear is so uniquely hers, it’s borne of a culmination of specific experiences tied together by her relationship with Lenore.

By contrast of a more common fear vs something so deeply personal and specific to this one person- because it’s not just unrequited love, it’s being so vehemently denied and misunderstood by the ONE (1!) person who you wholeheartedly trusted in your entire life who also oops mega died on you- this distinction gives way to an almost more raw, more visceral feeling to Annabel’s fear sequence. Again!!! I am not undermining Prospero’s own trauma, I promise!!! But you have to admit that there’s something, from a narrative standpoint, that hits so much harder with how deeply personal Annabel’s fear is. The contrast is even more great when you look at how Prospero’s involved a buncha bloodied hands not really tied to any faces or even any indication of personhood like accessories, scars, etc etc. It could’ve been a group of anyone holding him down hurting him; on the flipside, Annabel is being restrained by one very specific person we see in full view. The faceless crowd who could’ve been anyone at anytime vs the lone perpetrator whose history you know like a second name. It’s just!!! So personal!!!

In conclusion, on the surface level, one would think a character so deeply ingrained in using deceptions and manipulation would have her greatest fear tie into having her true nature revealed to everyone she’d fooled, but then it turns out it’s the complete fucking opposite. What homegirl fears the most is her truest, innermost self not being believed and accepted by just one (1!) person. The way it’s framed is just so heartstabbingly personal, especially when you parallel it to a previous fear sequence just a few panels preceding it. This is it, your honor, this is Annabel’s deepest driving force broken down to its bare essentials. To hell with whatever reputation she’s carefully crafted! Who cares what anyone else thinks of her if she doesn’t believe her, if she doesn’t SEE her. Really, truly see her. Lenore is the defining point that Annabel has revolves around so wholeheartedly, and there’s no point to anything anymore if Annabel loses her. This crux of her character, OHHH BBAAABBYY it’s just so well done because we, as the audience, have been given clear evidence to build up this narrative of Annabel’s characterization fer so long now and to finally see it come together in a fiery explosion of lesbian angst with this latest chapter??? Gods, the writing of Nevermore will never not drive me absolutely insane in the membrane.