#send prayers🫡🫡🫡

[westaysilly]

OMW TO TAKE THE TEST WISH ME LUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[crossbackpoke-check]

the deweys photos are from this video: https://youtu.be/5xTwJho44ao?si=bPw8MZZ327lCogVZ aren’t they just everything

kissing you and the minnesota wild official media team (with consent) full on the mouth, THANK YOU THIS VIDEO IS EVERYTHING 🥰🥰 i have seen pieces of it before i think (connor petting a shark 🥹) but the entire video start to finish is such a delight, 10/10 would recommend

[bratkook]

back to writing the absolute filthiest shit in between clients while i work hehe nature is healing

[chandiewashere]

it is the time of year where all fairytail fans, young and old, make the annual pilgrimage

it is time to rewatch the tenrou island and grand magic games arcs

[rosyblooom]

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

view all 3,958 comments

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

view all 2,483 comments

yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

views all 18,045 comments

username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

comments have been disabled

8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others

f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

[la2yn0va]

🫡🫡

(Had to stop doing another request cause this diabolical request was sent)

*****

Where ARE you?! You've never been gone this long!!

Sure they understood that you have other things to do!

But you're complete ignoring them!!

What did they do to deserve such neglect!? Was it a misspoken word during a prayer!? Was it a person spreading blasphemy?! Was the stellar jades they sent to low!? (Yes. Yes they are)

They can still FEEL your warmth, your so Divine and addicting warmth was slipping through their fingers!

Were you perhaps trapped somewhere else?

So, everyone puts their differences aside and help the genius society members; Zander, Herta, and Screellum along with the assistant of Dr. Ratio, building a tv screen to see where your at.

Every important and playable person is there, in one MASSIVE FUCKING ROOM. So, when Herta activated the screen, they saw... a beautiful road.

They saw you, and your godly smile as you controlled a..gray haired boy… no…no you couldn’t be..no. You’re not…replacing them right!?

Fear slowly coats their body, seeps into their skin and runs through their veins. No. No this couldn’t be the truth! Someone had their hands on their god!

They send you more stellar jades, they bomb your notifications with messages from them, they hack the summon system to make hard pity be 50 instead of 90!

But.. you don’t come back! Now, desperation and anger clouds their minds. They can’t- they WONT accept this! You’re coming back!!

Silverwolf is able to hack her way into this game and make it unplayable and annoying for you to play. Everyone watched as days passed and you grew more annoyed by the glitches and bugs.

They watch as you loose all your 50/50’s and 75/25’s! They watch as this lesser universe of people grow terrified at their universe falling apart.

They can’t help but taunt them. Sending this other universe messages about how they’re gonna destroy them as revenge for taking their god.

For manipulating their god into leaving them! They all get some sadistic joy watching this universe panic over their threats.

Eventually, only 3 short days later. You deleted the game and went back to Honkai Star rail. You were completely sour from your experience of the game, but that was completely wiped away when you saw how many stellar jades you had.

Damn near 210,000 stellar jades!! You didn’t know how or when you got these jades, but your sure as shit not gonna complain!

All while your followers, your TRUE and ONLY believers watch with euphoric pleasure. That other universe will never be able to bother you again, and you won’t leave them again! EVER!

-End-

I’ll take my good luck now.

[betterfettered]

Ok but imagine if the Mc they got was religious.

Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much full fledged christian ending up in devildom with literal demons.

•Religious!mc who devoted their life to christ getting railed by the demon bros (especially lucifer).

•Religious!mc who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with the boys.

•Religious!mc who wore a cross necklace clutching it around her neck as they get railed from behind.

•Religious mc! who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.

(I’m sorry but corruption kink is top teir + first time doing something like this so idk if it’s like worded correctly)

Anonnamin this ask gels so well with another one that I got about a super sweet MC from my moon anon!

Alright, but imagine this. A cute little reader who is just SUCH a softie Like, they are the type to help old ladies cross the street, volunteer at soup kitchens, work at a bakery, always give the brothers random little gifts that remind them of them, and just wholesome stuff like that. But the poor bby always blames themselves for any problems, like they are such a little ball of sunshine who is always blaming themselves, it's quite sad actually. Like they are always trying to brighten everyone's day and smiling, but if someone even slightly raises their tone at reader, reader will start tearing up and apologizing. They are just such a sweet little thing, and like the entire school absolutely loves them and a lot of people see reader like a little sibling figure. Because of this the brothers absolutely love this innocent cute little reader who only wants to make everyone feel happy and loved, but then their are all the other students at school stealing away reader's attention and protecting reader when they see how obsessive and possessive the brothers are. (Reader has no clue though lol, absentee parental figures gang, don't know what healthy love is ✌) (If the brothers get born mad at reader, reader will cry and isolate themselves because "they aren't enough for them" and "they probably don't wanna deal with me right now", and just close themselves off) Moon anon 🌙

I'm gonna combine the two of them together into an ask about a super saintly MC. 🧚🏿 If you feel like there was something I missed feel free to send in another ask~

It's killing me to imagine a terrified religious!MC waking up and meeting real life villains from the bible LOOOOOL literally wakes up, is introduced to The Actual Lucifer, passes back out again hahahahahha

I mention a trans girl with a dick in this, I don't know if that needs a warning. If you read this and appreciate the warning, please let me know somehow. Otherwise I'm not going to mention this kind of thing again.

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(gaslighting)(exhibitionism)(drugging)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(blasphemy, but you knew that LOLOL)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Yandere!Lucifer would soon feel pretty protective over an MC like this, especially because he thinks you're so foolish easily taken advantage of. He would also appreciate how obedient you are, it's so much easier than needing to tell his brothers to do or not do things over and over again. In a sense, he would protect you from things that he would do to you himself: he's not going to let concerned students at RAD take up all of your time because he himself is going to take up all of your time. He's not going to let other people order you around but he certainly is going to order you around. Most importantly, he won't let other people force you to live your life one way or another because you will be living life to his exact specifications.

I think on the other hand that he'd be kind of personally offended by your brand of religiousness. It intrinsically paints him as a bad guy and makes his reasoning out to be unjustified which, even if it weren't a sore spot, contradicts what he likes to believe about himself. I think his real cruelty streak would start to show around how he dismisses your beliefs. The first time you earn yourself a bad punishment from him, he'll be determined to hurt and violate you in ways that you would not have been able to imagine before, shoving toys into you that are way, way too big for only your first time, putting chained clamps on your nipples and tugging them until you are hoarse from screaming, forcing orgasm upon orgasm onto you until you it only hurts, paddling you until you're shaking. He'll ask why your God isn't helping you, but no answer you give him will be the right one (earning a larger toy or maybe another paddle): the real answer is because you like what he's doing to you, it's what you've always wanted, and your God knows that.

Yandere!Mammon would be sooo bad with this kind of MC LOL He's such a scammer that he would completely take you for all you're worth. You'd both end up broke and in trouble because of him LOLLL He has a hard time admitting when he's done something shitty, so he might allow you to blame yourself for things quite a bit, maybe even use your low self esteem to guilt you for spending time with other people at school vying for your attention (I'll circle back to this).

I don't think he'd have it on him to outright force himself on you because you're so innocent and sweet. Instead, he'll probably slip a double dose of an aphrodisiac into a snack he serves you and wait for you to come onto him. Imagine always wearing a religious robe and, after being drugged, hurriedly yanking it up in a daze so you can dumbly grind on Mammon's thigh and grab his wrists so you can rub his hands all over your body because you have no idea what to actually do about being horny LOL After he fucks you until you're satisfied, he'll let you think that the entire thing was your idea all along. If you get way too torn up about your sinful thoughts and behavior he might grudgingly admit that maybe you ate something strange. Circling back to the above, he is happy to take advantage of your guilt and naivete but he does have a kernel of morals deep down.

Yandere!Leviathan would be obsessed with your purity and good heartedness. I don't even want to mention her in this context because she is a child but honestly your personality would align with a lot of the kinds of things he likes about Ruri-chan. It's the ideal magical girl: chipper, sweet, always trying to help others etc. He'd be quietly obsessed with your religious behavior: you might be praying and then look up and see him watching you, or when you are helping people with things in public he follows you around and tries to help, too.

Unfortunately, the more he becomes obsessed with your purity, the more dirty thinking about you sexually will become to him, which means it makes him all the hornier LOL You'll start to notice him staring at your body and giving you lingering touches on your legs and shoulders. When he finally can't take it any more, he will want to shield you from the corruption as much as possible. He'll sneak into your room at night with a blindfold, tie it over your eyes and tell you to just go back to sleep. Obviously you wouldn't be able to sleep through someone taking your virginity, so he'll just try to soothe you as you cry even though he's fucking you way too hard because of his inexperience. You feel dirty and bruised once he's done with you, but rather than comfort you, he'll apologize by insulting himself and saying how awful and wicked he is and how you deserve better. You are always inclined to blame yourself, so even though you still feel his handprints all over you and the weird slipperiness between your legs makes you feel disgusting, you'll tell him it's not his fault and wonder what you must have done to provoke him. Levi is one of those people who says "I am a bad person anyway so might as well do it again", so expect the nightly visits to continue. You'll spend them clutching a cross as tightly as you can and praying, sadly unaware that that is only turning him on more.

Yandere!Satan wants to study you like an academic subject and needs to know everything about you that there is to know, so he'd be very very interested in your religion since it's such a big part of who you are. He also doesn't have as much experience with the celestial realm as the other brothers, so is more open to hearing about what is in your Bible since he doesn't have his own beliefs about it. You would literally be doing "Bible study and chill" with him where he listens to you talk about God and read scripture, and you would be so pleased when he seems like maybe he is thinking about converting. After all, to you helping him see the Lord's light is one of the kindest, sweetest things you can do.

That's why when the "and chill" part comes in you would feel so shocked and betrayed. You're sitting on his lap, reading pages out loud to him when you feel his teeth latch onto your neck and his tongue move back and forth over the sensitive skin while he gropes you. Maybe you're confused about his intention, so you ask what he's doing while he pins you face down by your shoulders, pulling your ass up and against him. You'd be confused and trying to explain that this isn't pious at all when he tells you he doesn't believe any of that shit at all and never did, and the shock would be so deep you don't even cry while he pulls your clothes off and throws your Bible to the floor carelessly like it's trash. Like Lucifer, he's the type to ask something like where it says in your scriptures that you should cum all over his face while he gives you head, or to slap you and actually quote Bible passages about meekness to you when you try to resist, asking if you really even believe what you read to him.

Yandere!Asmodeus is going to think how innocent you are is so cute and try to corrupt you immediately. Imagine you have baked some cookies, and you are going to give them out. He'll offer to go with you and then right before you step into the classroom he'll catch you by your waist, pulling your soft body back towards him until his arms are smushing your stomach. Asmo will whisper with his lips against your ear that every one of these people who is vying for your attention because you're so sweet actually just wants to be the first one to breed you, that when you hand them cookies they just think about fucking every hole you have. He'll ask what hole you'd use for which person until you struggle to get out of his arms and run away.

But even when you're gone, you can't help but think of his question every time you hand out a cookie, or in gym when a girl tries to talk to you and you can see her cock through her pants you can't help but think you want to take her in your mouth because it would hurt anywhere else. It's embarrassing and flustering and makes you want to be by yourself, which is a perfect time for Asmo to come and find you, to yank your robe up and point out how aroused you are. He'll narrate what's happening to your body, explaining it's totally natural to feel that way when you want to have sex, and asking who you saw that made you so horny.

He'll do this as long as he needs to until you are begging him to help you with this feeling between your legs that's driving you crazy and makes it hard to sit still in class. When you apologize to god before begging him to fuck you, he'll tell you that there's no need to. God gave you these feelings so you could act on them. He wants you to feel pleasure.

Yandere!Beel would be annoyed with how you let anyone who wants your attention have it, and he'd dislike how you always trust your god to keep you safe instead of him. God lets bad things happen all the time, so in his mind thats a ridiculous system. Whenever he sees you clutching your cross or praying, he will demand to know what it is you're asking for and try to give it to you himself. He thinks religion and your cross is a distraction from your relationship to him, especially since he's met all the people you're talking about and none of them are that special to him. If he wants your attention, he just cuts in to where you are and demands it, even if that means picking you up and carrying you away.

Yan!Beel will always fuck you when his libido outpaces his sense of control, but when he hears you praying he'll be enraged. You don't need that stuff! He'll try to rip your cross off of your neck, but the chain is too strong so he ends up choking you by it. You'd better say that all you need is him, to calm him down. Otherwise, expect him to yank you around by the chain like its a leash, pounding you so hard that you can't catch your breath to pray or beg him to stop. After he cums he'll just jam him fingers into you, stroking you with his other hand until you say what you want.

Listen I love Yandere!Belphie being insane as much as the next cockwhore, but I think he would actually be really, really kind to an MC like this. He went to the human world often to meet new kinds of people since he loves learning about them, so he'd be really comforted by how sweet and gentle you are while also loving how you hold him while he naps and let him tuck his cold feet under you all the time. He likes your prayers because they put him to sleep and give him good dreams.

What would make him snap is the constant attention to other people. He's often waiting for you in bed, so waiting hours and hours just to find out you've been with other people would drive him absolutely crazy. You might be tutoring a few other students and he comes in, seizing you by your hair and slamming your head down onto a desk. You squirm and plead for him to stop, but he'd still rip your clothes off and fuck you in front of them so they know that you are his. Even while you're sobbing he'll say (loud so they can all hear) that he can feel you clenching down on him, so you must love it. You'd turn your head to ask the other demons for help and see most of them with their hands in their pants and their eyes smoldering with lust. The fact that you'd be in so much pain losing your virginity in front of a crowd that you struggle like crazy and pray to be saved just makes the show more interesting.

[yooo-lets-go]

More asks

To me he’s a dog person 100% He could use some of that unconditional love that dogs give 🥺

I’d say it’s Keegan

Thanks! That is cool, I can kinda see it

Why not, if you’re still interested send it here 👀

I know! That’s the main reason I draw him the way I do 🫡 funny bastard

🫡🫡🫡🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱

Brother I don’t know I always think it turned out looking stupid as fuck when I draw it. References and prayers is all I have

I admit it’s the first time I hear of them but maybe they will show up in my drawings some day

My impact continues to surprise me 🙏

I’ve gotten asks about people wanting to eat my art, you are the first who did, thank you for your service 🫡

[lxdyred]

Among snakes I shall dance, ch.2: It felt like love.

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.

Word count: 6.6k

Warning: Allusions to incestuous relationship, use of obscene language, mentions of sexual assault and graphic death. some characters might be a bit out of character.

A/N: Italics are flashbacks!

A/N: AYOOOOOO GUYS!!!! 1792 NOTES SO FAR IN THE FIRST PART???¿? +300 FOLLOWERS IN 5 DAYS???!¡¿ THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYSSS I’M LITERALLY CRYING FFR!! You just made my week, honestly!! I really hope you enjoy how this story is going! This is for you ❤️🫡

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

She had to get the message to her mother, somehow. So she prayed that the time would come where he could escape to send a message by raven.

‘From the inside I will finish them off. Whatever happens, don't bend the knee. We will resist, mother.’

She read the message for the tenth time and snorted, putting her hands on her head and closing her beautiful eyes. "

Fuck..."

She cursed that she had missed the opportunity her mother had given her to come home with them. But of course, seeing that her grandmother was going to be alone in Driftmark, taking care of her grandfather, who was still on the verge of death from the ambush he suffered, her honor weighed more heavily in the balance. She did not want to turn her back on them at such a delicate time.

The sun had not yet risen when her prayers were answered.

"Ser Erryk." whispered as she saw the knight, opening the door to the room.

"Princess, we are leaving." The knight said, passing her a cloak to cover herself with. "I do not agree with anything that is happening, with this sick treachery. It is an atrocity, just like your betrothal."

"And my grandmother?" The young woman asked as she covered herself with the cloak.

"We will go to get her now. I will take you both to a ship that will take you back home." The knight, who was a twin to Ser Arryk, spoke before resting a hand on the princess's shoulder. "I promise I will do my best to get you both out of here."

Then she took the note from the table and clutched it in her own fist. She also took the ring her parents gave her with the emblems of House Targaryen and Velaryon, and the small pouch in which she always stuffed a few coins. After that they left the chambers and went for Princess Rhaenys, stealthily and swiftly. Whenever Ser Erryk saw guards, he told the princess to hide, so far they had had good luck.

"Lady Grandmother." Said the young woman taking her grandmother's hands, once they were reunited.

"My sweet girl." Rhaenys said, before kissing her granddaughter's cheek. "I heard what they wanted to do to you. Are you all right? They did not do anything to you, did they?"

"No, I am just fine, glad you are as well, really."

"Princesses, we must leave now." Spoke the kingsguard who was trying to help them escape from the Red Keep.

"And Meleys and Scarlex? We can not leave them behind."

"It is not safe to go to Dragonpit now, Princess. I am afraid we could not make it. Going by boat is the best, safest option." Ser Erryk explained before they reached the exit through which they would leave the Keep.

"Wait." The princess stopped before they could continue. "I need you to take this with you, Grandmother." She whispered handing the note she had written for her mother to her grandmother. "I need you to be the one to give it to my mother in case we get separated."

"That is not going to happen." Said the queen that never was, looking down at the small roll she now held in her hand.

"Better to be cautious, do not you think? That is something you made a sure of teaching me." Said the silver-haired girl looking at the note in her grandmother's hand.

"Sometimes you remind me of your father, my child." Spoke the older woman hiding the message.

Only if you knew.

"Aemond!" Called the Velaryon girl as she ran across the training yard. "Aemond!" The young girl ran with a huge smile on her face, as she looked for her uncle, who was currently alone training.

"Niece." Said the young boy, stopping shielding the sword, when he saw his niece and best friend come to where he was. "Has something happened?"

The young lady rested her hands on her knees and gestured for him to give her a moment, to catch her breath after all the running around the fortress, trying to find him. She looked up and gave the prince a huge smile. "It's a boy." The silver-haired girl said with difficulty, still struggling to normalise her breathing.

The young Targaryen arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" The boy said, abandoning his sword and looking for a place where they could both sit and talk.

"My mother, the princess, has given birth to a boy. Another brother, Joffrey is his given name." Said the girl with tears of happiness. "He is a healthy boy. But very wrinkled and- he will not stop crying, gods." She told Aemond with a crystallized look in her eyes because of the joyful emotion she felt. After saying that, she took a seat next to the Targaryen Prince.

"Congratulations are in order, then." Aemond smiled at her and placed his hand on hers, who gladly took it and squeezed it before letting out a laugh. "Another nephew, hm? I was expecting for a girl this time.”

"Me too, if I am being honest." She admitted, looking up at him. As she watched her lifelong friend look at her intently, she felt herself blush, for some strange reason she didn't understand. "It is a hot day, it is not?." She commented in a whisper, lowering her gaze and looking down at the ground, as if it was something very interesting.

"You came running, that is why you must feel like that." Aemond stared at the girl, intently, for the first time in as long as he could remember he was staring at her like that. She was changing, and he had not noticed, not until now. His feelings of friendship, unable to help it, were doing so as well.

Realising that what he was feeling for her was something new and more mature, the boy pulled away from her and released her hand, causing the princess to look up and look at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Aemond?" His blue gaze met hers after hearing the question. "You are quite red." The young girl observed.

He was even redder now.

"Yes. I am just fine." Lied the young prince. "I forgot I have your nameday gift here. I wanted to give it to you when we were alone."

"Why would you have it here?" she asked curiously.

A smile formed on his face. "In case I found you later." Lied the Targaryen boy again.

He carried it with him all the time, but could never find the time to give it to his dearest friend and niece.

"Close your eyes, do not look, hm?"

"Never." She whispered.

The young prince stepped around her friend, and once behind her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold necklace, simple and unobtrusive, with a medallion. It was a simple medallion with a three-headed dragon. The emblem of House Targaryen.

"A three-headed dragon, of House Targaryen." The young woman commented as she looked at the gift that her uncle and friend had given her. "It is beautiful, my prince. Thank you very much, but..."

"But?" the silver-haired boy asked, terrified that deep down she didn't like the gift.

"I am a… Velaryon. Not Targaryen, my mother is but-"

"But you could be one, officially, in the future, in some years, when you shall to be wed.”

"Grandmother, no! No! No! Grandmother!" shouted the young Velaryon as she was separated from her grandmother and Ser Erryk, due to the hordes of people being led towards Dragonpit, where the coronation was to take place. "Fuck!" She screamed out of desperation, as she tried to backtrack and turn back. A desperate attempt to get back to the only two people she trusted in the city.

She cast her gaze back and could see them slowly drifting further apart. Rheanys' face showed her desperation to be reunited with her, she tried to look for her granddaughter with her eyes, but at one point she lost her in the tide of people. She should have tried harder not to lose her grip, she thought.

Amidst pushing and shoving, the young princess managed to make herself climb up a small brick wall. Once she stood up on it, she tried to look around for the knight and the princess, but no luck. She only hoped that at least her grandmother could escape from the death trap, which was the fucking capital.

"Seven hells, what am I supposed to do now?" She mumbled, still looking from the top of the wall for an exit, where there were almost no people, let alone guards and soldiers.

"Girl. Get down from there now." Someone spoke to her, she looked out of the corner of her eye at the person who had addressed her, she tried to cover her face as much as possible with her cloak, so that she wouldn't be recognised. "If you do not come down on your own, I will take you down by force."

She really was very unlucky at that moment, when the man who had addressed her, was exactly Rickard Thorne, a fucking Kingsguard loyal to the green snakes. A fucking traitor.

"Apologies, Ser. I was just looking for my companions, with whom I was to attend the coronation." She said, trying to change her tone of voice and not looking at him. "No need to worry about me, I will get down." She tried to be as agile as possible to get down, so she could run as far away from the guard as possible.

The last thing she wanted was to be recognised.

As she was about to get down, she almost tripped, stepping on her own dress. The knight had very good reflexes and caught her before she could fall.

The young princess had a lot of bad luck at that moment.

"Be more careful, woman."

"Thank you." She whispered as she hurried away from the spot, clutched the cloak even tighter as she covered herself with it. That had been a close call.

At least she had already gotten rid of the guard, who was part of the Kingsguard, no less. Surely they had noticed her and her Lady Grandmother's escape by now.

"Hey, girl, you left this behind," said Rickard, looking at the bag of coins he had just picked up from the floor. "What are you doing with so much gold? Who did you steal from?"

Fuck.

"You can keep it, as compensation." She said as she tried to pick up her pace, she wanted to run but it was practically impossible.

"Get back here!" Thorne said as he headed towards her, pushing people out of his way.

Double fuck.

Now was when it was her turn to run, even if it was impossible.

As the young princess tried to flee the scene, she was pushing people out of the way and into the Kingsguard who was practically on her heels. She looked around desperately, she needed a way out.

She was so desperate.

Luckily, she could see a way out by her right, where there were not so many people. She started to run there, and saw a small, dark and smelly alley. She ran as if there was no tomorrow.

As she ran up the street, she was bumping into people going in the opposite direction, she could also hear Rickard shouting at her, telling her to stop or ordering the people near her to catch her. But no one seemed to be in the mood, thanks to the seven.

Until an elderly man tried to catch her. He grabbed her by the arms and took a small dagger he carried with him, placing it on the young woman's neck, who instinctively stomped on his foot with all her might, and then bit him on the wrist that held the dagger. The man dropped it, bringing his other hand to the bloody wound. She picked up the dagger, but not before kicking the man in the balls, who now lay on the ground doubled over in pain.

She kept running as fast as she could, Thorne much closer than before, because of the time she had lost facing the passer-by.

"You have no escape, thief." Said the Kingsguard, once he had the young woman at the end of the alley. "Surrender or the punishment will be worse."

Flight or fight.

"Bullshit, you traitor." She said as she stopped and turned around, pointing him with the dagger she had just seized of.

"Princess." He said in surprise when he saw the princess's face, but quickly a smirk of superiority formed on his face. "You don't know what a commotion it has caused in the Keep to see that neither you, nor Princess Rhaenys were in your chambers."

"A pity I didn't get to see the faces of the incompetents in that place."

"Come on, Princess, put the dagger down." The knight requested.

"Not without using it first."

"You think you can beat me? A knight of the Kingsguard?" the man in front of her laughed, one hand on the pommel of his sword. "Do you think a woman stands a chance against a knight?"

"No, of course I do not." The silver-haired girl feigned confusion. "But at least I can amuse myself for a while while I play with your patience."

"That's not very ladylike of you, princess."

"Did anyone say I care in the least about that?"

Ser Rickard clutched at the sword dagger, truly the young woman was playing with his patience like no woman had ever done before.

"Oh, come now, Ser Rickard. Will you not at least give me the pleasure of putting into practice everything my stepfather has taught me these past few years?"

"Believe me, Princess, I would gladly do so, but both the Kingsguard Commander and the Queen would prefer that you return to the Red Keep unharmed." Thorne explained as he took a step towards her.

"Oh, how sweet of you..." father.

“Put the dagger down, now."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" The princess made a false grimace of sadness, then smiled at the knight. "I just wanted to play swords with you, well daggers, rather." She dropped the dagger to the ground, only for the knight to take her arm firmly and set off on the way back.

"Are we going to the coronation?"

"No." No doubt the man was running out of patience, and it amused the young Velaryon, who even though she was being led back to the Keep had a triumphant smile on her face.

"Good, because if I would wanted to see a jesters’ show I would have stayed in the Red Keep.”

"You could have your tongues cut out for talking like that."

The young woman let out a loud laugh. "Not long ago someone told me exactly the same thing you did, Ser."

"You are leaving now, so I hear from father." Aemond spoke with a sad expression, then watched as his friend played with the necklace he had given her a couple of days ago.

The Velaryon girl nodded, then wiped away her tears with one hand. There was a knot forming in her stomach and throat, every time she tried to talk to her best friend the tears threatened to spill out. "Mhm." She nodded, avoiding the young prince with her eyes.

"And you are not going to say anything before you leave? Just 'mhm'?"

"It is just that- I know that... I- if I try to tell you anything I know I will cry even more, I will not be able to stop." The young princess's lower lip trembled.

"I would rather you do that and try to comfort you than leave without crossing any words." The young boy admitted.

"Thank you for being my friend, Aemond. I know we are family, but your friendship means a lot to me." Confessed the girl from the house Velaryon, then burst into tears and put her hands to her face, trying to hide her face from her friend.

"Thank you for being the only one who understands me, Princess." The young Targaryen whispered as he grabbed the young girl’s shoulders, then pulled her to him and gave her a hug. She hugged him back.

"For being the only person in the family besides you without a dragon?"

"And for everything else."

"I am going to miss you." She whispered, with immense sadness.

He hated the huge emptiness he felt in his chest at the thought of not seeing her every day.

"And I you." He said likewise, as he ran a hand through her hair, trying to memorise how it felt to his touch.

They stood for a few moments in silence, pondering whether or not to say more. Neither had the courage to tell the other how they felt, and in a way, they were too young to even be thinking about it, since those feelings only came when you were older, supposedly. Or maybe not?

"You should leave now. Your Lady Mother will be waiting for your return," Aemond spoke, regretfully.

"You are right." The girl murmured as she broke the embrace, then grabbed her friend's hands in an attempt to get his attention. "I will try to write to you as often as possible."

"I will try the same."

"Good."

"Good."

"I will see you soon, I hope."

"Y-Yes. Soon..." neither knew exactly what to say to say goodbye, let alone not knowing how long they wouldn't see each other for.

Then something happened that caught Aemond Targaryen by surprise. His friend and niece, the princess, with both hands cupped his face and placed a brief, nervous peck on his lips, leaving him breathless and wide-eyed.

"Goodbye, my prince." Said the silver-haired girl nervously before running out of the place in search of her family.

Aemond, still wide-eyed, and in apparent shock at what had just happened, slowly turned around and stared in the direction she had disappeared.

He held up a hand as if in farewell. "Goodbye, I suppose."

He spent the rest of the day without saying a word to anyone. He didn't know whether or not to believe what had happened in that little encounter with his friend. But when he went to sleep that night, he did so with a small smile on his face.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for her, after Ser Rickard Thorne had taken her back to the castle, to be met by none other than the Kingsguard commander himself, Ser Criston Cole, her beloved father - gods, the joy it gave her to see the torment in his eyes after discovering his paternity - who escorted her back to her chambers, where Alicent, now Queen Mother, awaited her.

"What you did today was stupid." Was the first thing Alicent said to her as she saw her enter her room and heard the door being closed by Ser Criston. "Something could have happened to you."

"Something worse than what is about to happen this very night, my queen?" the young woman asked as she approached the centre of the room.

"If you had met someone dangerous your life could have been in danger. Imagine if they had come to kidnap you or assaulted you, taking your virtue." Alicent spoke as she approached the young woman, who in the next few hours was to become his daughter-in-law.

The young woman laughed wryly at the last words of the mother of the new usurper king. "There is no need to pretend you care about me, your highness. There is no one here but us."

"You were lucky you did not suffer a worse fate today, princess. You could have gotten yourself killed."

"That would have been a more merciful fate than the one I am living right now, locked up here and surrounded by traitors!" Exploded the young woman, as she made her way to the small table on which she kept the wine. She picked up two glasses and poured the liquid into both of them. "Any fate is better than this. I would rather be dead right now, than here being used as a pawn in your evil plan." She offered a glass to Alicent, who took it and took a sip.

"I do not think being married to the king's brother, who in your childhood was your best friend, is a cruel fate."

Now it was the young Velaryon's turn to take a sip from her cup, this one being longer than the one the queen took. "Yes, when the love you once felt for him has turned to immeasurable hatred." She blurted out, accompanied by a small smile.

The next few hours were spent wandering around her room and drinking wine, occasionally standing by the window to watch the people pass by, nothing interesting. But once the time came, she was led to the throne room, where the ceremony would take place. Thank the gods it looked like it would be an intimate ceremony.

The ceremony began when Aegon, the great son of a bitch and usurper who now warmed the throne with his ass, walked her to the altar, where Aemond, with his head held high and no expression on his face, stood waiting for her. His fucking handsome face, made her sick.

She clicked her tongue as she realised the intrusive thought that had just crossed her mind. "Pathetic." She mumbled before she reached where her future husband was waiting for her.

Huge was the relief she felt as she slipped from Aegon's grasp. The disgust she felt for this man, sadly her uncle, was inhuman. How she wished she could cut off his head and give it to her dear mother. She thought as she gave him a look of disgust, after he had left her at the isle.

She looked up at Aemond, who was watching her from top to bottom. She raised her head defiantly, to which he let out an arrogant little chuckle, shaking his head. She looked at him again, in detail. She looked at his face, it seemed to show serenity and determination, there was still a small smile on his stupid face. It seemed that nothing that was about to happen caused any kind of reaction in him. She, on the other hand, felt a knot in the pit of her stomach and her breathing was agitated, no matter how well she hid it, her nerves were killing her.

Before she could even process anything, they were already deep into the ceremony. The Septon asked Aemond to place the cloak over the young Velaryon, to protect her from the eyes of the people and the gods.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Then came the sermon. "We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

It was now that they both held hands. Her hands trembled, but not his. The Targaryen prince really wasn't the least bit shaken by what was happening. He took her hand firmly, and with his thumb, he drew circular patterns on the back of it. It made her look at him and let out a hitched breath. That gesture was something they both used to do when they were children, as a signal to focus… and trust.

Was he trying to help her calm down?

A ribbon was literally tied around their hands, symbolising their union. "Let it be known that these two people are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

So she, herself would be cursed if she tried?

The young man who wore the patch looked at the one who was to be his wife from now on, watched as tears formed in her eyes, and as her lower lip trembled briefly, only to be stopped by her biting it. He knew there was an inner conflict gnawing at her. He couldn't help but clench his jaw as he watched the scene.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." They both faced each other and a few seconds later, after a brief silence in which they stood looking at each other, they proceeded to say their vows.

Aemond took up the gesture he had made earlier, and began to make circular patterns on the back of her hand. The reaction it caused in her was new. It was like a fluttering inside her, as if she had an army of dragons inside her, flying all over her. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," he recited.

At the same time she said hers. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

Oh, seven gods. The moment had come.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." The silver-haired man took her chin between his index finger and thumb, and with a gentleness she herself believed he lacked, he brought his face close to hers and placed a soft kiss upon her lips.

The act lasted only a few seconds, but she could not help but feel a certain familiarity in the kiss that had just sealed their fate. He felt it that way too.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" King Viserys shouted angrily, as he shot a glare at Ser Criston.

"It will heal, will it not, Maester?" Alicent asked in anguish to the Maester tending Aemond's wound, who had just lost an eye in a fight with his nephews not long ago.

"Flesh will heal, but the eye is lost, Your Grace." replied the Master to the boy's mother. That answer caused Rhaenyra's eldest daughter to look across the room at the young prince.

The young Velaryon was not present when her two younger brothers and her cousin Baela, got into a fight with Aemond, her best friend, who called her brothers bastards. While this was going on, she was suffering something cruel and disgusting that she wished on no one. Once she was able to extricate herself from her situation, that was the scene she saw, everyone full of wounds and cuts, along with a broken nose for her younger brother and a lost eye for her best friend. Or rather, the one who once was.

She sat against the wall of the Driftmark's great hall, deep in thought, saying nothing, until she heard Alicent say. "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Targaryen." She stood up with a speed she had never seen in her before, which made her quickly dart into the crowd of people in the middle of the room, where the whole feud was taking place, and stood in front of her grandfather Corlys Velaryon, who was protecting Luke with his own body. Unarmed, she held out her arms, trying to prevent anyone or anything from harming her little brother. She would never allow it.

"You will not do such thing.” She heard her mother say in defence of her youngest son.

"I will bite you hard, Ser Criston." Threatened the long silver-haired girl, trying to sound intimidating.

And after that the discussion became more personal and intense between Rhaenyra and Alicent, once the King stopped Ser Criston from taking Luke's eye and made it clear that anyone who questioned the legitimacy of the princess's children would lose his tongue. Once silence reigned over the place, as the tussle between the two women ended with her mother getting a nasty, bloody cut on her arm, it was the firstborn heir to the throne who spoke first.

"You are all monsters." Were the words that echoed through the great hall, most of those present looked at her. She was resting her gaze on Aegon, and lastly Aemond, at whom she stared with a serious face but also with a frown. She was trying to tell him something. "Real and disgusting monsters." She repeated again but in a whisper, as she put a hand to her neck and tore off the medallion Aemond gave her, then threw it at his feet. He looked at the ground and then back at her.

The boy who, less than an hour ago, had been her best friend all her life, looked at her in the same way, but now his one eye reflected sadness. "Do not mourn me mother, it was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon." After saying those words dedicated to his mother, he looked at her again.

At that moment they both knew that their friendship was completely broken, that the damage was irreparable, and that this was how it was meant to be.

His quarters were clearly much more spacious than hers. It looked as if from now on this was where they were both going to live, to lead a marital life together. She surveyed her surroundings, since the last time she had been there things hadn't changed much. What was most striking now was some pitchers of different alcoholic beverages on a small table in one corner of the room. Also striking was the large number of swords, it was certainly curious that Aemond collected the swords of opponents he had beaten.

"I do not know what your drink of choice is, but here you go." Said her now husband, setting a wine glass down in front of her, who was seated in one of the chairs surrounding the round table. "Dornish wine."

She looked at the glass and took it silently, then took a sip. "I hope you have no expectations of tonight, husband."

He took a seat across from her. "Who said I did, dear wife?"

"You know, the bedding ceremony." She said dryly. "People will want to make sure you fuck your new wife, that our marriage is consummated. I'm sure your brother wants to be a witness and watch you brand me anyway."

He let out a small chuckle and then sighed. "There will be no bedding ceremony." Aemond rested his head on his hand, leaning fully against one of the chair's armrests. "It is not my style to degrade my partner in such a manner."

"What is your style then?"

"Private. Keep it between me and her, at least most of the time."

"Hm, good to know."

"And yours. What is your style?" The husband of the young Velaryon, now Targaryen, asked curiously. She looked at him silently in reply.

"You assume I have lost my virtue, by any chance?"

"Have you not?" the Targaryen prince was curious. "I think it's natural to want to explore when you're young, and lose your virtue."

"Yes. I have- I was- Aemond, yes, I have... done it before." She answered him truthfully.

"With someone I know?"

"Perhaps." With that the girl finished what was left of her drink.

"Ser Criston is out of the question, for starters." At those words she looked at him curiously, he drew a crooked smile on his face. "He is your father, apparently."

"I see you're into eavesdropping."

"Let's just say I prefer to keep up with everything that concerns my wife."

She gave a cynical laugh. "And how does it feel to know that your family has forced you to marry a bastard? Unbeknownst to them.” She asked, narrowing her eyes, expectant for his response.

"I don't care at all." He admitted with a shrug.

"Hm."

"I have a present for you." He said.

"Let me guess. It's a necklace with a medallion with the emblem of House Targaryen?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled that exact thing out of it. That necklace that he had once, six years ago, given to his friend.

"I know you do not trust me, and you never will, probably. But I want you to have this."

"Why would I accept it this time?"

"Because of what it symbolizes, clearly."

"House Targaryen?"

"No. The friendship we once had." The prince with the patched eye said as he rose from his seat. "That even if you do not trust me, I am willing to place my trust in you, and that even if you do not believe it, you will always have my protection."

"You seem to have feelings for me." She commented.

"Did I say I did not?" He admitted in the form of a question. "May I?" he asked for permission to put the necklace on his wife.

She looked at his outstretched hand, which had the necklace on it. She nodded slowly and brushed her long hair away from her neck. Her husband circled her, as he had done the first time he had put the same necklace on her, but now he noticed a slight difference.

A scar. A rather long one on the right side of her neck. It was as if someone had tried to slit her throat once.

Still staring at his wife's scar, Aemond finished placing the necklace around her neck. "I've never seen it on you before."

"I've never liked to show it." She whispered, reaching up to the decanter of wine to put more in the glass. "This is the reason for the name I was given. The Red Mermaid." She sighed as she said her nickname, and as she remembered the reason she was given it. "You would not know its story."

"I have always heard different versions. It is hard to know the real reason behind the name you were given."

"You want me to tell you what really happened, husband?"

"That is your decision to make."

"Make yourself comfortable, it is time for me to tell you a story." She said before taking a long sip of her drink, she was about to finish it and pour herself a third glass.

Aemond took note of this and took the decanter away from her. She had already had too much to drink throughout the day. "Enough for today. Please proceed to tell your tale."

"It all happened four years ago, when I was going through a very dark time." The young woman began to narrate. "I thought of taking my own life. So that night, after dinner, I escaped from my room and went to the beach, the one where most of the ships disembark. I thought, water extinguishes fire, there is no more poetic death for a dragon-blooded Velaryon than drowning. They say it is an agonising death, but in the end, when you stop fighting, a great peace comes over you."

The silver-haired young bastard fiddled with her glass, as she glanced at the fire she had lit in the room's chimney. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, trying to find the strength to continue the story.

"I had already stopped fighting when someone pulled me out of the water, when someone decided to save me. I couldn't have been more wrong. The person who tried to save me had been watching the whole scene, without me noticing." The young woman gave a sad smile to her husband. "After pulling me out of the water and leaving me on the sand, that man tried to rape me. I do not remember where it came out of me to fight, I don't know when my animal instinct came out of me. One moment I was about to drown and the next I'm lying on the floor of the beach, under the stars of that night, fighting for that not to happen to me again".

"What? You've been assaulted like that before?" Aemond jumped to his feet at that statement from the woman. His knuckles turned white from how hard he clenched his fists.

She continued with her story, not answering his question. "I guess it was my animal instinct and fear of going through the same thing that ended up with me throwing myself at that man's neck. I bit him so hard on the neck, that when he struggled with me… he cut me with his knife on my neck... it wasn't a deep wound, in case you were wondering." She finished her drink again.

She had never told anyone what really happened that night. She didn't know why the first person she told was him, her husband. Her enemy. But honestly, it felt good to be able to share it for the first time with someone. She felt lighter now.

"Did he get to do to you what he tried to do?"

"No." She answered him, tears starting to form in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. "I dug my teeth even deeper into him, to the point where I practically tore his tissues away... and he bled to death right there next to me. I lost consciousness soon after, and it wasn't until the next morning that some guards found me lying on the sand next to that man's corpse, still wet and full of blood from both of us." She sighed, and inevitably a tear rolled down her cheek. She rested her head on her hands and let out a small sob.

Aemond approached her carefully and knelt down in front of her. He took her hands and met her gaze with his. "Honestly, I expected nothing less from you." He admitted, giving his niece-now-wife a small smile, trying to comfort her.

She closed her eyes again and let herself get caught up in the moment. She leaned her forehead against his, who was taken by surprise by this gesture, but did not pull away.

Was honesty the only thing needed to mend the friendship they once had?

"I need you to be honest with me. Has that really happened to you before? Have you ever been… raped before?" He asked looking at her.

She nodded, and with a frown of anger and helplessness at the memory of what had happened, she began to sob. Aemond, unsure of what to do, took a deep breath, and slowly pulled the girl to the floor so that she could sit next to him and then he could embrace her. He tried to comfort her in the same way that, in what seemed to have been a past life, he used to do.

"When? Who?" He asked still clinging to her, with one hand on her lower back and another resting on the nape of her neck.

"At the funeral of my aunt, Lady Laena." She murmured into his neck.

"Who? Please tell me who?" He asked. "Do I know him?"

"Yes." His young wife replied in the affirmative, as she turned her face away from the prince's neck and looked up at him with red, still tear-filled eyes. "Your brother."

"Aegon?" he asked in confusion.

She nodded. "He was the one who raped me. He was who ruined my life."

"You are all monsters. Real and disgusting monsters."

That's when it all made sense.

[gwennybriggs]

Beyond The Classroom

Pt. 1

I don’t expect this one to be very popular, this is a self indulgent piece 🫡

Summary: Once a Little Eagle, always a Little Eagle. Melissa keeps that promise to you year after year as she shows up for you in every possible way.

Warnings: Child abuse, neglect, abandonment, over all sad stuff (Mel makes it better!)

WC: 3.9k

Notes: Wrote this because it’s the week before Mother’s Day and I just want my mama (she’s an awful human being and will never be a part of my life again, 6 years no contact). Melissa is a comfort character for me, so I’m using this as a hug from her. I know there are plenty of other people with bad relationships with their moms (gotta love mommy issues), so I thought I’d share in case someone else would also like this hug.

I see you, I love you.

P.s. This story is about 85% based on events I experienced as a child/young adult. I’m thankful every day for the teachers who stepped in to be the parents I didn’t have.

You grew up in a not-so-wonderful household with abusive parents and older siblings who wouldn’t have noticed if you had decided to run away one day. Melissa Schemmenti knew. She was the one person you felt you could confide in as a child. She called CPS on your parents a handful of times during the year she taught you, in hopes of keeping you safe. Unfortunately, with a broken system and a mother who could sweet talk The Devil himself, your parents got off scot-free, leaving you to deal with the aftermath each time.

You would go into school the next day with a new bruise and tears in your eyes. Melissa would hold you close and let you cry all you could before pulling a chair up next to her own so you could be near your safe person all day. When it came time for dismissal, she would hug you extra tight and send a silent prayer to God that you’d walk through the doors again in the morning. On Fridays, she would sneak a Tupperware container of homemade food and a handful of snacks into your bag with a note that said ‘love you, kid’, knowing that your parents restricted your access to food and that she was probably the only person you heard those words from most days. The world sat heavy on your second grader shoulders and Melissa did everything she knew how to make it a little lighter.

Even as you moved on past second grade, Ms. Schemmenti was there. She would check in with each of your teachers at the beginning on the school year and pop in to say hello at lunch from time to time. If you had a particularly rough night at home you would stop by her room and ask her to hold you for a minute before other students arrived. She always obliged.

The day you moved on to middle school, Melissa cried right along with you. Both of you knew she wouldn’t be able to hug the hurt away or keep tabs on you as often. Of course, she made sure you knew how much she loved you, she gave you her personal phone number and said, “No matter how old you get or how far you go, you’ll always be my favorite little eagle. I’ll always be here for you if you need me and I mean it. If things go south at home, you call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’re gonna be okay.”

As the years passed, Melissa made sure she remained a constant- the only constant, really- in your life. Through your middle school years she became your tutor, meeting you at your school’s library every Thursday after dismissal to help you with your homework. Of course, those sessions were always a little more than just help with homework; she would bring you food and make sure you had clean clothes and basic necessities. One time you let it slip that your mother had ‘forgotten’ to buy you toothpaste and she dropped off a small bag of Colgate tubes on your front porch that night.

When you entered high school, Melissa made an effort to show up for every one of your art shows and track meets. Your parents never even made it to one, but Schemmenti was there. She always was. Your high school teachers even began to think Melissa was your mother; you never corrected them. And when you started working at the hoagie stand your sophomore year, Ms. Schemmenti would stop by once a week to have dinner with you.

The physical abuse dwindled a little as you got older and were able to fight back, but the verbal abuse got worse as a result. At one point during you senior year, your mother kicked you out after throwing a fit about you not inviting her to see you try on prom dresses. You called Melissa and she drove forty-five minutes at three in the morning to get you. Your mother knocked you to the ground and pulled fistfuls of hair, creating a tangled mess. When you were finally able to get her off of you, she screamed at you the entire time you packed your bag.

“FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Couldn’t even include YOUR OWN MOTHER! It hurts, it’s almost like not getting invited to your WEDDING!” You dodged books and trinkets she threw at you as you tossed whatever sentimental things you could think of into trash bags to take with you. Photos of your grandparents, your favorite stuffed animal, and some of your artworks made it in before you heard Melissa honking in the driveway.

“You’ve never been my mom,” you seethed with tears streaming down your face as you dragged your bags down the stairs.

She blocked you from leaving at the bottom of the stairs and backhanded you, her ring catching the tender skin beneath your eye. You yelped in pain and stumbled forward, she grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You walk out that door and NEVER come back, you hear me? You are worthless, a waste of space and air.” She dug her nails into your skin before she released you and practically pushed you through the front door.

“You’ll never have to deal with me again. You want me out? I’m out.”

Your father followed behind with his fists balled up, “If you ever come back, it’ll be the last time you see daylight!”

Melissa waited for you by the car with her baseball bat, ready to swing if need be. Once your bags were in the backseat, Melissa tossed her baseball bat into the trunk and drove off. Your mother chased the car all the way down the driveway calling you every derogatory thing she could come up with.

The drive to Melissa’s house was silent save for the occasional quiet aob from both parties. Once you arrived, Melissa took your bags inside and walked you up the stairs to her bathroom to nurse your wounds. You winced as she swabbed your cheek with isopropyl alcohol and she frowned. “I’m so sorry, hon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner to stop her.”

“Don’t be, you still showed up when I needed you. It coulda been a lot worse. Thank you,” you cried as you leaned your head against her stomach just like when you were a second grader.

She held you until your tears dried then left the room to grab a change of clothes for you. Moments later, she handed you a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized Eagles t-shirt. “You can take the bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. My spare room doesn’t have a bed right now, but we can fix that tomorrow after I call out of work. You need anything before I head down, kid?”

You looked at the ground, embarrassed to even ask, “Would you maybe… would it be okay if…. never mind, it’s stupid.” You shook your head and climbed under the comforter, it smelled like Melissa.

She somehow knew exactly what you were asking without hearing the words. She climbed into the bed and lifted an arm for you to scoot in. “Of course, sweet girl, it’s not stupid at all. I’ll keep you safe, promise. Try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” You settled into her embrace and took a deep breath.

You whispered, “I love you, thank you.”

“I love you too, baby girl. Sleep tight,” she whispered back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she held you, watching as the rise of your chest slowed. She stayed awake the whole night, guarding your peace.

Late the following morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the sound of people in the house. You popped your head out into the hallway to see Melissa directing three men where to go with the new bed set. She heard the door creak and looked over at you with an apologetic smile, “Hey, hon, sorry to wake you! They’ll be outta here shortly. I called your school and work to let them know you wouldn’t be in for a few days so you don’t have to worry about it. I washed the clothes that were in your backpack, they’re sitting by my bathroom. There’s also a clean towel for you and a new toothbrush on the counter. You’re welcome to use my hairbrush and whatever else you need.” You smiled back at her and closed the door.

You picked an outfit from the pile of folded clothes and shut the bathroom door to shower. Your body was sore from the adrenaline and you groaned in pain as you shed your pajamas. Standing naked in the mirror, you looked over the marks your mother left on you. The nail marks on your neck were already scabbed over, but the gash under your eye was bruised and definitely going to leave a scar. You traced your fingers along each mark, tears forming in your eyes. The shower was hot enough to leave your skin red, you wanted to burn away any remnants of what happened to you. You sobbed loudly as you tried to detangle the mess of hair your mother created, it hurt and you were so worried that you’s just have to cut it all off.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Ya decent?” You opened the door for her and she gently took the brush from your hands. She directed you to sit backwards on the toilet while she worked at the knots on your head. You nearly fell asleep sitting there as she hummed and massaged conditioner into your hair, working diligently to make sure you kept your beautiful hair.

“You sleep okay,” She asked as she rinsed your hair in the sink.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I haven’t slept in a bed in months, it was so soft.” You said it like it was nothing.

She paused. “Whatduya mean you haven’t slept in a bed in months?”

You sighed deeply. “They took my bed away because they said I was a whore and didn’t deserve one. I told them that I’m a virgin and they took the door off of my room, callin’ me a liar.” You hadn’t told her that detail when you saw her at one of your track meets a few months before. You figured you’d shared enough heartbreaking details with the woman, she didn’t need to be even more worried about you.

Hot tears silently flowed down her cheeks. She was angry. Not at you for not telling her, but at the low-lifes you called parents. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” she spat. She was ready to call in one of her favors from The Tire Iron. “Well I’ll tell ya one thing, kiddo, you ain’t goin’ back there ever again. You’ll never be without ‘long as I’m around, ya got it? And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, no strings attached.”

You choked back your own tears. “Thanks, Ms. Schemmenti. I truly appreciate you.” She wrapped your hair in a towel and you turned to hug her. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve, apparently,” she teased when your stomach growled loudly. She grabbed your chin to look at you, “And no more ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You can call me Melissa, Mel, Aunt Mel, whatever you want, just not that. You’re family, kid. Now c’mon, I’ll make you something to eat before we head out for a shopping trip.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her brow furrowed, “You tryin’ to make me feel old? None of that ma’am stuff either.” You giggled and followed her down to the kitchen.

She made French toast and sausage and you devoured the meal in just a few bites. Satisfied with you having eaten, she grabbed her purse, dragged you to the car and pulled out of the driveway. Along the way, she asked you to make a list of anything you might need or want. You took your phone out and looked at it for the first time that day. The screen was full of awful messages from both of your parents and extended family members. You chose to clear the screen and turn off notifications without reading them all and opened your notes app to jot down a few things you knew you missed when packing bags.

Melissa pulled into the mall parking lot and looked over at you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what happened?”

You rubbed your eyes and tried to fake a smile, “Nothin’, I’m just tired.” She knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but she wasn’t going to push you on the subject.

“Mkay, kid. If you decide you wanna talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. And you know I’d kill for ya.” She gently nudged you with her elbow and the two of you made your way into the mall. You showed her your list and she took charge, guiding you around to every clearance rack and bargain bin in the vicinity. You paid for the majority of your new finds, but she insisted on helping with funds here and there. Many stores later Melissa stopped for a bathroom break and you found yourself in front of Auntie Anne’s. Remembering how much she loved soft pretzels- she’d get one every field trip- you decided to buy two, one for each of you. It was a very small token of gratitude, but you knew she’d be excited.

When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the food court for you and found you sitting at a table with all the bags. She sat down across from you and you pushed the soft pretzel her way with a little cup of honey mustard, “Thank you for today. Normally I hate shopping, but you made it fun.”

She gave you an upside down smile and took a bite. “I’m glad I could be a good distraction for ya, hon. And thank you for this!” She clinked her pretzel with yours to ‘cheers’ the day. As you finished your pretzels in silence while people watching, a dress shop on the upper level caught your eye. Despite trying on prom dresses, you never actually bought one.

Melissa‘s eyes followed your gaze and when she spotted the shop she knew what she was going to do. “Hey, I know you said you normally hate shopping, but since we’ve been having so much fun today… why don’t we keep the fun going and go pick out your prom dress? It’s what, two weeks out?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I can’t afford it now that I’ve spent half my savings on shit I needed today. Besides, I got to do prom last year, I’m alright missing out on this one.” You played with the straw in your drink absentmindedly and took the last bite of your pretzel.

Melissa thought back to the conversations she had with you about how excited you were for your senior prom. You buzzed about it every time the two of you spoke for months, it broke her heart to see you resign to not going. “My treat, hon. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, I know how bad you wanna go. C’mon,” she said as she prodded you up and dragged you to the dress shop.

You spent about an hour browsing and trying on different dresses, even somehow convinced Melissa to try one on with you for shits and giggles. You pretended not to see her sneak a picture in the mirror of the two of you in the matching dresses, a sweet moment she wanted to remember forever. Finally, you found the right one. The a-line strapless dress stopped mid calf, it was wine red and fit like a dream. When you emerged from the dressing room to show her, she gasped.

“Oh, beautiful girl! My favorite little eagle isn’t so little anymore.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an upside down smile as she reached to tuck your hair away from your eyes. She took a small step back and asked you to spin so she could see it all. The smile on your face told her you made your choice. With misty eyes she pulled you into a tight hug, limiting your ability to breathe.

“I can’t… breathe… help,” you choked out. The redhead lessened her squeeze and apologized but didn’t let go, she needed that moment to collect herself. You stood there embracing each other for a couple of minutes before Melissa finally released you. Once you changed back into your clothes, she took the dress to the register and paid.

You walked out together and stuffed all the bags in the trunk, laying the dress flat in the backseat. “Thank you. For everything, Aunt Mel. For a few hours, it didn’t feel like my world was crashing down around me. I’m lucky to have you.”

She kissed her fingers and then pressed them to your cheek before she started driving. “I’m pretty lucky to have you too, kid. And I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces when you need me.”

The drive back to Melissa’s house was quiet, aside from the classic rock station playing the weekly hits countdown. You checked your silenced notifications to see even more messages and missed calls from your family, Melissa glanced over and saw them too. “If you want, we can change your number this week, that way they can’t bother you anymore,” Melissa offered.

“They still pay for my phone, I can’t. They’d cancel my service the moment they found out.” You shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“Then I’ll just move you over to my cell plan. They don’t deserve the power they have over you, hon.” You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when she pointed at you. “Let me help, please. Because I can and I want to.”

“Thanks, Aunt Mel.”

A few minutes later you arrived back at the townhouse and dragged all of your new belongings up to your new room, hanging up the dress immediately. Melissa said she’d help you make the bed and get settled once she got dinner in the oven. While she was working in the kitchen, you curled up on the couch and flipped the TV on, settling on ‘Rick Steves’ Europe’ reruns. Rick’s comforting voice began to lull you to sleeping and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

Melissa walked in to tell you she was ready and found you fast asleep. Her heart melted at the sight. She draped the couch blanket over you and lightly tucked it in so as to not disturb your slumber. ‘How could anyone hurt something so precious,’ she thought to herself. After she tucked you in, she made her way upstairs to gather your new sheets and comforter to wash them before starting on the rest of the room.

She grabbed the basket of your clothes from her own room and began to hang them up in your closet. Once she finished the task, she cleaned out the dresser and filled it with your socks, pants, and undergarments. One by one, she removed her family photos from the walls and replaced them with the handful of framed photos you brought with you. She recognized your grandparents’ photo from the one time she had met them at the beginning of your second grade year, right before they passed. They were your best friends, you were safe when they were around. Melissa decided to place the picture on your nightstand so that they’d be watching over you every night. Lastly, she organized your toiletries in the guest bathroom and set out a fresh set of towels and one of her robes.

Satisfied with her progress, she took a short break to check on you, change over the laundry, and take out the lasagna. You were still asleep and she didn’t want to disturb you so she ate alone in the dining room and texted her mother.

-Ma: Hot date?

-Mel: Nah. You remember me telling you about Y/N?

-Ma: You’ve talked about her for the last ten years, yeah I remember. Is the poor kid okay? Her parents treating her like shit again?

-Mel: They kicked her to the curb, said she wasn’t welcome back. She’s staying with me for as long as she needs to.

-Ma: Of course I’ll set an extra place for her, Amore. She need anything? You need anything?

-Mel: She needs all the love she can get, just make her feel like family. I’ve got everything else handled. Thanks, Ma.

-Ma: We can do that. Talk soon.

She finished her meal and gathered the clean bedding from the laundry room, making her way back upstairs to make your bed. Once the sheets were on, she fluffed the comforter and pillows before opening your backpack to retrieve your favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bunz. Even at eighteen, you slept with him tucked in your arms every night. She hugged the well-loved bunny to her heart and thought back to the day she gave him to you. Right before holiday break your third grade year, she pulled you aside at dismissal and tucked him into your backpack. She told you to give him a hug whenever you needed to feel loved and she wasn’t around to give you a hug herself. Little did she know, that was the only gift you received that year.

Melissa placed him in the middle of the pillows, like the cherry on top, and went back downstairs to wake you for dinner. She sat on the arm of the couch and gently began to run her fingers through your hair. “You need to eat somethin’, sweetheart,” she whispered as your eyes fluttered open. You stretched and sat up, leaning your head against her leg.

“What time is it?”

“About 7:30. You’ve been through a lot the last 24 hours, figured you could use the rest. I got your room all set up for ya. I’ll heat up your plate and we can watch a movie before bed. How’s that sound?”

You rolled off the couch and rubbed your eyes. “Sounds good,” you yawned. You followed the redhead into the kitchen and sat at the counter. She warmed your plate in the microwave and placed it in front of you with a glass of water. You demolished your meal like you hadn’t eaten in days, complimenting her cooking after every other bite. You washed your dishes and then made your way back to the living room, joined by Melissa. She turned on one of your favorite comedy movies and watched the light return to your eyes a little more with each scene.

Sitting there, laughing at the stupid jokes on the screen with the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real mom, with a full stomach and a warm bed waiting for you upstairs, you realized something.

For the first time in your eighteen years of life, you were finally home.

[justgivemethephd]

31.08.2024 - Fighting for my life

Happy Saturday everyone!! I’m currently in bed recovering from a surgery I had yesterday. I slept very badly because of the pain and any sort of position I put my body in is extremely uncomfortable but alas! We must live regardless.

This morning I’m drinking hot chocolate in my emotional support chicken mug and fighting a horde of 50 year old men to get Oasis reunion tickets for me and my dad. My boyfriend is helping and I’m very grateful, but holyyyy am I still stressed. I forgot what buying tickets for big artists was like 🥲 Send thoughts and prayers please I’m gonna need them 🫡

This weekend I’m going to try and focus on my novel. Going to hopefully finish the character sheets for my main lads and then draw some of the maps. I’m so excited to have some time for it!

I hope everyone has a lovely and productive weekend!

~~~~~

🎧 - Champagne Supernova by Oasis

🎮 - Assassin’s Creed Black Flag

📖 - The Priory Of The Orange Tree

[lethalchiralium]

No More | [5] | Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

a/n: fellas. fellas i know where i want to be but i have to write to get there????? disgusting. this is probably a filler but idk idk you need to know you’re a badass 😡😡😡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 also flashbacks of the old life… cause why not.

word count: 5400ish

warnings: FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS UNTIL MISSION. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of domestic abuse (not from anyone from 141!), mentions of medical attention, canon-typical violence, cussing

summary: It was supposed to be an easy operation, but now you’re being hunted - you aren’t for sure. You’re hoping that the 141 isn’t compromised, because that means Laswell will send you to the one place you don’t want to be sent. Ghost is trying his best. OR, your flashbacks are getting worse, and the operation goes…crazy.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Turn off the light.

Your eyes burned, even if they were closed. It was hard to even move your eyes, let alone any one of your limbs.

God, someone turn off that fucking light.

They felt like they were set in stone, lungs burning as they took in oxygen. Concrete poured right over your skin, your tongue dry and throat scratchy. You pressed your eyelids together before trying to open them, only to wince at the fluorescent light. Your sight was hazy at best, glancing around what looked like a hospital room. You could almost make out a purple lamp across the room, along with slumped bodies of slumbering people.

You felt movement on your right hand, your eyes flickered to it - you blinked a few times, and felt your heart settle in your stomach.

Bradley Bradshaw held your hand in his own, his face pressed into his elbow as he slept in an awkward position. You knew it was him, the dark blonde hair and mustache gave it away.

It hurt to see him sitting beside you like this, after watching him do the same with his mother years ago. Watching her sit in a hospital bed, weak and frail - you grew up with his mom, almost raised by her. You knew it had to hurt him to sit here with you, waiting for you.

You had thought about this when he had made the suggestion of getting back together after almost four years of being broken up - what if either one of you had crashed? Been injured or killed? He was your best friend, you’ve loved him almost all of your life. You thought you were going to marry him someday, but this was bigger than the kindling of a childhood love. This was life, and life had you by the throat and in a hospital bed.

You remembered the prayers you said in the village. The prayers that they’d find your bones, not your rotting corpse. Prayers that they wouldn’t find your cold body so Bradley and your father wouldn’t have to identify your decrepit face, prayers that they would identify you by your tags and DNA from your bones. They were prayers that you would never wish to leave your lover’s lips, prayers that would put you in the grave if he ever whispered them.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t stay with him if you knew you could hurt him in ways you’ve seen others do.

Someone murmured your name, your eyes moved from Bradley and to one of the figures across the room. You blinked, trying to clear the haze but they stood from their chair, moving towards you.

Maverick.

His hand grabbed yours, going to reach for a cup on the tray beside your bed. He put a straw into the plastic lid and moved it to your lips, you greedily took sips of water. The cool burn of water in your scratchy throat made you feel a little better.

“Slow down, bug.” He whispered, moving the cup away but you gave him a sharp glare. He set the cup on the tray. “You’ve been out for a few days.” You stared at him in disbelief. “Are you in any pain? I can get the nurse.” The twitch of your head to the side made Maverick nod, his eyes moving to Rooster. He looked back to you.

“Hasn’t moved an inch. Thought he was going to go out screaming when I made him take a shower in the bathroom.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes, gazing at Rooster.

You were supposed to be married by the time he had graduated college, both Naval Aviators and wingmen until the end - that was the idea, the focus of the relationship you two had created freshman year of high school. But the dream had crashed and burned by his junior year of college, your first year in flight school. The Rooster and his Hen had broken up because she learned to fly first.

You stayed friends. How could you not? He knew your every thought, dream, wish like you did for him - he stayed silent when you introduced him to Jake Dakota, a Naval Lieutenant that you fell in love with. Rooster held his tongue as you spoke about spending your life with this new man, but he didn’t take a step back when the bruises began. He never willingly left your side when you mysteriously ended up with a broken arm. He drove the nine hour drive in five hours to the Fallon Naval Air Station in Nevada when you called, crying and terrified that the man you chose after him might kill you. Carried you to the ER in town, though you barely remember half of it as you were bleeding pretty bad from your head and chest, blood soaked his clothes.

It took you six months to even feel comfortable without him being near you, without your father or his on and off girlfriend, Penny Benjamin. The constant time with Rooster in the air and on the ground, you felt safe again. Safe with him in the air, safe in his arms. You wanted to give the Rooster and Hen Show another shot, and he had said yes. He would always have a key to your home and your heart.

Now he sat in the chair beside your bed, hand holding yours as if to make sure he was the first to see you wake up. Now, he was peacefully sleeping, not knowing the pain he was about to experience.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t get back in a jet, you couldn’t put him through more pain than you ever have before.

“Honey.”

Your teary eyes looked back to your father, your mouth opened to speak but only a small sob left your lips. Your left hand barely squeezed his hand, but he felt it. He sat beside you on your bed, his free hand petting down your unkempt hair before coming back to his side.

“You’re okay, honey. You’ll be okay.” His eyes met yours, yet his sentiment didn’t reach his eyes. He wouldn’t know if his daughter would return to how she was before or completely change. He wouldn’t know yet, but he have to watch you walk away from him, from your best friend, from your home because you had to fly away. You had to leave and shed the skin of Reaper to become something new, someone he wouldn’t know for years. Mercy.

Your father’s eyes said it all. He had told you before you launched that it was dangerous, that you shouldn’t do it - you had wave him off. He said he couldn’t do this again. You knew he was talking about his wingman, Goose, who died in an accident. He still blames himself for killing Rooster’s father.

A whimper left your lips and there was a gasp from your right, your eyes looked to Bradley, your neck too stiff to move your head still. His eyes were wide, his own tears rolled down his face. His free hand settled on your cheek, a smile broke on his lips.

“Hi, Hen.”

Your heart broke into a million pieces, splintered into your skin and drawing blood as you breathed.

The sound of ice shaking in a drink made you look back to your father, he moved the drink towards your face. You took small sips of the ice water, moving away from the straw before staring at the ceiling. Tears stung your face, outlining Rooster’s hand as they fell down the right side.

“Mini Mav.”

Your gaze flickered to the foot of your hospital bed, recognizing the silver hair from afar.

Iceman.

Your tears fell faster.

“You’re gonna be okay, kiddo.” He patted your foot, you hiccuped as you felt sobs begin to claw up your throat.

“H-Home.” The word that fell from your lips broke all of the men’s hearts, the way you could barely say it clearly. “Go.” You coughed, trying to clear your throat. “Home.”

Ice looked to Mav, who looked to Rooster - whose eyes had never left your face in the first place. Your father and godfather both looked back at you, Maverick spoke, “You want us to go?”

“I want.” You took in a small breath before continuing, “To talk… to Roos. Alone.”

Maverick and Iceman both looked at their dead friend’s son, then to each other. A quizzical look from both of them made you look away to your lap. Mav gently pet your head before he pressed a kiss to your hair. “We’ll be down in the cafeteria then. We won’t be too long.”

Ice let go of the bottom of the bed as Maverick moved by, both men walking out of the door without a word exchanged or a sound made. The door clicked back into place and you took a deep breath.

It was like those prayers for death were wrapping around your skin; tearing, burning and ripping tendons - branding for your bones with words of despair. You didn’t want that for him, these words weren’t ones that could be washed away. They were tattoos in gold ink, bold and toxic and they would never be meant for him.

“I am so sorry.” He spoke first, his hand squeezed yours. You looked up to him, seeing tears fall down his face. The face that has smiled at you for years, laughed alongside you, cried with you. “I did the funeral run. If I had known you were alive, I would’ve-“

“Bradley.”

“I thought I lost you.” His voice cracks, his hand squeezed yours just a little too tight. “I’m so sorry I left you out there, I didn’t know.” His tears fell fast, just like rain in a storm. “I’m sorry.”

You wet your lips before squeezing his hand back.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Bradley’s face dropped, eyebrows furrowed and eyes widened. “What? Like being here?”

Your eyes met his, you felt the sting of imaginary tears. “Us.”

It was like you could see into his head like an x-ray, because you watched his entire world shatter through his eyes. Splintering his chest with glass and porcelain, shredding his heart like paper - pain he’s felt before but never from you.

“What?”

You took in a breath, a reflex to try to calm yourself before you broke into pieces. “I hurt you.”

“No, no, baby, I didn’t know that you were alive, there was no-“

“We always end up like this.” You coughed roughly, your free hand began to slowly move towards your face. “I can’t keep hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me.”

You stared at him. “It’s easier to grieve friends than lovers.” Your throat began to burn but you continued, taking breaths after every few words. “I can’t hurt the love you give me. I’m,” A cough, your throat scratchy and hoarse while you breathed out. “A Maverick. I’ll get you killed.”

“You won’t get me killed, Y/N.” He answered immediately, gently squeezing your hand. “You’re not your father.”

Your head moved for the first time as you lulled it to the side, a whisper escaping your lips, “But you are yours.”

It was like you could hear the relationship exploding, burning by how his face dropped. His eyebrows furrowed, betrayal set in his skin. But, there was also understanding. He understood your fear. “We can make this work.”

“I love you but I can’t do it.” Another cough escaped your throat before you continued, “We were always better as friends.”

His other hand went and wiped those heartbroken tears from his face. “Please don’t do this. Not when I just got you back.”

“Please go.”

The fire had consumed him, burning his skin like the tears he shed. But he didn’t argue with you, he knew it would be pointless. Once a Maverick, always a Maverick. He only gave your hand a squeeze before saying, “Can I kiss you?” Just one last time?

You nodded and he instantly pressed his lips to yours, the dance of your lips was familiar yet needy, the last time you would ever kiss Bradley would be in this hospital room in Miramar. He pulled away after just a moment, his free hand cupped your cheek as he made you look into his eyes. “I will always love you, even if you’re scared to love me. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, all you have to do is just ask.”

There wasn’t another word exchanged before he let go, moving away and towards the door without a glance at you. Then, you were left in silence.

The light was still too bright, your lungs felt like sandbags and your tongue hurt from speaking, even if it wasn’t much. It was only a few seconds before the door opened, a gaggle of nurses and doctors waltzing in. Taking your temperature, asking you questions, upping the dosage of morphine. Your hand moved to grab your cup of water, a nurse moved to hand it to you. You nodded in thanks before looking back to the doctor, his words going in one ear and out the other. The blanket was peeled back to assess wounds, you got a look at them. Your body was covered in white bandages, it made you feel sick so you looked up to the ceiling as they put the blanket back.

The doctor - Doctor Choi? - cleared her throat to catch your attention, you moved your head back down and glanced to her. “You’ll be back in the air in two months.”

Those words would have been a comfort two months ago, but now, it made you viciously nauseous. It bloomed the quaking feeling in your stomach and up your throat. You would only crash again if you got back into a jet.

“Thanks.”

Doctor Choi nodded before ushering the large group of medical staff out of your room, you took a small sip of your ice water. You didn’t even notice that someone had stayed behind, but it wasn’t Rooster. No, Rooster did not carry himself with such… grace.

“You’re incredibly impressive, Lieutenant Mitchell.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Survival…or flying?” Your shaky hand held the cup of ice water, staring at the man who moved to stand at the foot of your bed. The man who you almost shot, the man who rescued you.

Captain John Price was a man made of steel, melted and carved into a well-rounded leader - you could tell by the way he held himself. Not in the way that he was too ignorant, but the way that he oozed confidence. Just like you used to. Could your fractured hull ever be repaired and floated back out to sea?

Price clasped his hands behind his back. “You survived 23 days without getting yourself killed, killing threats with your bare hands to conserve ammo. You hunted animals for sustenance, fought off what looked like two rounds of Russian scouts and only had one bullet wound. I’ve trained men that would only be able to dream about having any of those skills.” He nodded to you. “Not to mention the stealth kills. It’s easy to see that most of them didn’t struggle.”

“Was gonna be a Navy Seal medic before I went Aviation.”

“I’m sure you would be able to get back into the program.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your flying skills are excellent, don’t get me wrong, but you would be an incredible Special Forces Operator.” He cleared his throat. “No one has ever pulled their gun on me that fast before without me catching it, it was impressive, Y/N. Especially when they’re wounded and starved.”

“Thanks…?”

“I’m looking for someone like you to be a part of a Task Force, and from how you seem to be traumatized from flying,”

Your eyes narrowed. “How did you-“

“I’m giving you a way out, to still serve your country but just using different tools.”

You stared at the Captain, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know about…that?”

The Captain only shrugged. “I would be traumatized too if the one thing I trusted more than myself had failed me.” He then moved towards the tray table next to your bed where you had just sat down your drink. He fished something from his pocket and held it up - a business card. “If you ever need an excuse to stay on the ground, call me.”

He placed the paper on the table before turning away, footsteps almost silent as he made it to the door. Your hand reached for the card, the soft card stock felt weird when you took it between your fingers. His name was hastily written, but the international phone number underneath it was written slowly, as if to make sure you could read it. You kept your eyes on the number.

“Captain?”

He stopped, hand on the door handle before he turned back to you. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

You looked up to him. “I don’t have to be Reaper anymore, then?”

Price shook his head. “It’s your decision.” With that, the man had left you alone in your hospital room. You flicked the paper between your fingers before flinging it back onto the tray table.

It didn’t take you more than twelve hours to dial in the number, and you were placed underneath Captain John Price’s wing.

—

The stock of the rifle against your shoulder was a comfort, your eye watching through the scope as Soap weaved through the building, making sure to keep tabs on his position as he cleared every room. There were only three floors of the building in Istanbul, both Price and Gaz sat with their own rifles on two other buildings that sat across from the target. Comms had been quiet for the most part, only muttering a “Clear!” every few minutes. Any information they could get their hands on was put in a backpack which would then be sent to Laswell for decoding. Soap had done his internal sweep of the floor, now making sure he stayed in your sights as he cleared the rooms with windows. You watched as he dug through files on a desk, scanning through files. The room to the left held Alejandro, he was typing in a computer as Ghost stood watch at the door.

“Nothing that even talks about the target.” Alejandro muttered into the comms, you could see him inject a flash drive into the PC. Your sights drifted to Soap again, seeing that he had began to move out of the room.

“Clear.” The Scot muttered, your scope then moved back to Ghost.

“Clear.” Alejandro spoke, the men then moved into the building, making you lose visual.

“Delta 0-4 lost visual on Alpha Team.” You spoke into your radio.

“Bravo 0-6, gained visual on Alpha Team.” Price echoed, you settled back and moved your head from your scope for just a moment. The Russian sunshine felt bittersweet, the cold brushed over your clothes as the warmth of the sunlight burned into them.

“Gaz, we’ve got a remote locked blast door in here, do you mind?” Alejandro asked, your eye went back to your scope and your rifle moved to gaze to Gaz’s position, across the plaza on another roof - a laptop with him.

Gaz ducked from his rifle, head down underneath the ledge as he most likely pulled up his laptop. “Not at all. Bravo 2-6, losing visual on the west side.”

You cleared your throat, scanning his surroundings on the roof of the old apartment building. “Delta 0-4, covering Bravo 2-6.”

There was a moment of silence, you could almost hear the birds chirping before Alejandro spoke again, “Gaz, can’t you make it open faster?”

You saw Gaz’s head pop up from behind the ledge, looking onto the building as he answered, “Negative, sir. But you can try pullin’ on it if it makes you feel better.”

Price chuckled on the line. “Cheeky bastard.”

“Here for everyone’s entertainment.” Gaz laughed, ducking underneath the ledge again. “Looks like there should be a stairwell behind the door, leading down into the basement. I have visual on Alpha Team via cameras. They might know you’re there.”

“Be careful, boys.” Price commented. “When you go down there, you’ll only have Gaz on visual. Watch each other’s backs.”

Soap. “Yes sir.”

“Bravo 0-6 losing visual on Alpha Team.”

“Bravo 2-6 gained visual on Alpha Team.”

You moved your rifle to the right, scanning Gaz’s rooftop again. You moved your eye from your scope again, gazing down into the fairly unpopulated street. The building Alpha Team was in looked old, barely kept up with - nothing new for your line of work. Limestone had cracks, the windows cracked and the engraving above the front door had faded. There was no one lingering around the streets in front of the building where you were looking, you were sat on an office building roof directly across from it.

Once your eyes flickered to the direction of your captain, you felt it. That chill that crawls up your back when you know something’s wrong. You looked back through your scope to your captain, scanning his roof before looking back to Gaz.

You didn’t even hesitate when you saw the man with a rifle, about to shoot Gaz from across the roof. The shot hit the man in the forehead, his body crumbled like sand - Gaz jumped out of his skin as he shouted into his mic, “What the fuck, Mercy!?”

You pulled back the bolt on your rifle, reloading a shot as you kept your sights on the open door to the roof. “Just saved your life, Sergeant. We might be compromised, gentlemen. Grab what you can and get out.”

“We're daein' oor best.” Soap grunted, you kept your eyes on Gaz’s roof.

“Eyes on hostiles moving into the building.” Price commented, it felt like a timer began. You didn’t even dare to look down at your watch, you kept your eyes on Garrick as he began to navigate the team through the labyrinth that was the basement. “No clear shots yet. Delta 0-4, keep eyes on Bravo 2-6.”

“Rog.”

“We’ve got something, Captain. Basement is clear.” Ghost’s voice was low, the grip on the handle of your rifle grew just a little tighter. “Gaz, is our exit clear?”

Another few seconds, Price piped up, “Enemies spotted, green light on weapons hot.”

“Three targets heading towards the basement, LT.” Gaz confirmed, you watched as he then grabbed his rifle again, scoping towards you. “Targets spotted covering the exits, we may needa lift out of here, Captain.”

“You hear that, Nik?” Price called into the comms, you heard a very chirpy, “Yes sir!” from your favorite Russian pilot.

“Get to the roof, there is a staircase right outside of the basement door that goes all the way up.” Gaz had ducked back down to his laptop, you kept your sights on him - only moving your scope to make sure the fucker that almost killed him was still dead.

The chill hadn’t gone away yet, the knot in your stomach that kept tightening and making you feel sick. Your scope left from Gaz and went to Price, quickly scanning his area to see that he was also clear. That meant-

You rolled to the right, hearing a knife loudly crack against concrete. Your hands were already on your own knife, leaping onto your foe and holding their arm away from you. They were dressed in all black, black war paint over their eyes as they tried to buck you off. Anger seeped through your skin as you slammed your knee into their stomach, making them temporarily unfocus; allowing you to plunge Ghost’s black knife into their throat. The blood was hot, splattering against your hands as you twisted the knife and wretched it from their skin, the squelch from the inhalation of blood would’ve made you squirm, but your adrenaline was all you felt.

Thank God for your sixth sense.

“I’m compromised!” Your fingers coated your radio in blood, you wiped the remaining blood and skin off of the knife onto the leg of your enemy. You sheathed the knife and grabbed your rifle, sliding the stand back onto the sides. You pressed the button again. “Almost got kebabed, we need to exfil now.”

“Nik, what’s your status?” Price barked, you quickly slung your sniper rifle over your shoulder - hands grabbed your the assault rifle hanging from your vest. You cocked the gun and turned towards the exit of the roof, clearing the landing before heading down the stairs, gun still raised.

“Five minutes out, Captain.”

“Gaz, Mercy, rendezvous at the secondary location.”

“Rog.” You confirmed.

You made quick work of securing the staircase as you descended, your footsteps quiet on the concrete as you kept your finger beside the trigger. It was only five flights of stairs, but the taught string in your stomach told you it would be a long way before you even made it back to your team. This was supposed to be easy, you thought, I do not feel like getting hunted for sport.

When you opened the door back to the street, you pressed your body against the wall beside the doorway so you were able to look a little farther down the street - nothing. No one, not even civvies. It was weird. You cleared both sides of the street before exiting the building, keeping your hands on your rifle.

The street was filled with old buildings that looked like they came straight out of the Soviet Union, with beige concrete and cookie-cutter styles. You didn’t pay any mind to the emptiness of the street, but your eyes kept moving to the windows of residential apartments as you began to quickly jog down streets.

It was only two klicks away and you were making record time, making sure to keep tabs on your surroundings and looking over your shoulder every once in a while. The prickle in your spine began to not go away, it felt familiar - not in the sense that it was Ghost, but in the sense that it felt predatory; the way you felt under the gaze of your abusive ex-boyfriend.

Extremely dangerous.

You swung around, thinking that a threat would be behind you but there was nothing but open, dusty street.

Tick, tick.

You felt water on your face, you glanced down at your rifle to see that rain had began to paint it. You grunted in annoyance before turning back around, running now. If someone was going to hunt you, they were going to have to be fast.

“Bravo 0-6 at RV, Gaz, what’s your status?”

“Almost there.” Gaz answered, sounding out of breath. The concrete under your boots was growing uneven as you darted through back alleys and side streets, rain began to splatter against every inch of your uniform. The knot in your stomach still tightened, it didn’t take that much to convince you that you were being followed.

You cocked your rifle as you reached a street corner, darting to the left and using the building as cover before you peered out to find the enemy. It didn’t take long for a man the size of Soap to appear, but it definitely wasn’t Soap. The man was geared up from head to toe, leaving his ginger hair without a helmet. He had an assault rifle in his hands, keeping it pointed up at he scanned the street. The rain began to get faster, drenching the man and giving you the perfect cover to close your scope on his forehead.

The body hit the ground quickly yet was silent against the sound of the rain, you lowered your gun and turned away, scanning your environment. Another street up and you would be at the van, where Price and Gaz hopefully were.

“Alpha Team has extracted, Bravo Team, what is your ETA?” Ghost’s voice almost scared you, you bit your tongue as you darted forwards, keeping your rifle raised. Your finger was poised beside the trigger like a puma, ready to pounce.

“Waiting on Mercy.” Gaz answered.

“Copy.”

Your socks were soaked by the time you rounded the corner, seeing the familiar silhouettes of your coworkers halfway down the street; they were waiting in the rain for you. Your tightened heart warmed a little, you didn’t stop running until you were twenty feet from the van, jogging.

You called to Gaz and Price, “Delta 0-4 at RV.”

Price nodded to you before radioing into Alpha Team. “We’ll be at the LZ in ten.”

-

It wasn’t long before you were back in Nik’s helicopter, the knot that was so tight in your stomach had loosened, but you still felt the anxiety. Something bad was happening, dread made its home in your sternum. You spent that flight back to the small base in Poland trying to flesh out how they knew you were there.

Everyone had cleared the recon spots before Alpha Team even made advances towards the target location, there was nothing to tip off anyone. Gaz hadn’t detected any security cameras for blocks, all three buildings you, Price, and Gaz used were cleared. There was no way they could’ve known the teams were there, especially you and Gaz. Something isn’t right.

Alejandro sucked in a breath as you pressed a little too much hydrogen peroxide to the slice on the side of his hand. You mumbled a weak apology as you moved to bandage his hand.

“¿En qué estás pensando?” The Colonel murmured, your eyes glanced up before looking back down at the wound.

“Podemos estar en peligro.” You answered, Spanish just a little slower than you liked. Your brain was going faster than a freight train, you relied on your muscle memory to continue caring for Alejandro’s wound. “No había forma de que supieran que íbamos a estar allí arriba.”

Alejandro nodded. “Sé que tienes razón, pero tuvieron suerte.”

“Algo anda mal, Ale. No puedo evitar este sentimiento.” You gently began to wrap the white gauze around his palm.

Alejandro nodded and smiled. “The sign of a good soldado. Preparados para lo peor.”

You tucked the end of the bandage far from the wound before nodding at the Colonel. “No es una bendición.”

Your friend cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “Te mantendrá a salvo.” His eyes then flickered to the skull-masked man a seat down, typing away on his laptop. “Tienes que cuidar tu sombra, parece un perro pateado.”

“Ha cometido errores, está aprendiendo.” The finality of your words made Alejandro nod again before getting up, moving back to his original spot across from you. He shrugged, mouthing a ‘Gracias’.

The rest of the ride was silent, Ghost breaking down firewall after firewall of the laptop they retrieved while Price kept his phone pressed to his ear, lower conversations barely heard over the roter. Dread carved out words of warning on your bones, your fingers fidgeting with your vest as you kept glancing to Ghost. He had sat back in his seat, hands looking like they were shaking as they typed on the keyboard.

It didn’t take you more than a moment to move a seat over and take one of his hands, he almost instantly retched it away. You looked up to him, seeing the wild look in his eye.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, almost angry. His words bit like a rabid dog, deep and hollow.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re shaking.”

“‘m fine.” He scoffed a little, hands trying to go back to the keyboard but you had stopped them with your own. His eyes held an icy fury.

“You need to relax.”

That seemed to click something in his brain, circuits electrifying and gears clicking together. He seethed, “You almost died.”

Your hand subconsciously found purchase on his knife in your vest sheath, almost pulling it out to give it back. “And you gave me the weapon I saved myself with. So quit being an ass and listen to me.”

The man made of cold stone moved his hands from the keyboard, his eyes narrowing.

You took one of his hands, squeezing it a little. “Just take five minutes.” Your voice lowered a little. “For me.”

You had hope, just a little.

But it was crushed when he pulled your hand away, typing on the laptop again. You turned forward, eyes staring at the floor of the helicopter.

One step forward, five steps back.

———

some tags had to be deleted as i couldn’t tag, i’m sorry!

@luhvbot @ladystarfishnut @chris3tom2pau1rdj @kat-nee @efsa-lks @angelsquidd @marytvirgin @medivalpersephone @ramadiiiisme @blueoorchid @guiltyconfessions @abbiesxox @lockleywife @nicomactavish @nose235678 @multi-fandomlovers-world @holyfeck @thriving-n-jiving @kgive @simonsdoll @crazyfandomist @ryunniez @sofasoap @depressedacidtest @angelinathron @dindjarinsbby @lazyperfectioniste @keiva1000 @jellyedkazoo @1sam1 @erensonly @sunniiiiiiiiii @thekuroinsomething @lake-145 @badpvn @guineapigzwei @qualitypudding @s0meth1ngs-n0t-r1ght @doodle-cat16 @5seastar @horniestbutterfly @allaboutirem0 @zechie-spams @zoraclover777 @joanne-uwu @miss-i-ship-it @merakiaes @multitargaryen @sweetybuzz25

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Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[blackbird-brewster]

Please send me your horny thoughts and prayers as I try to write my first ever foursome. 🫡😭🫠

As if 3somes weren't hard enough to keep track of everyone's body parts, I've decided to throw in a whole extra person.

Worst case, it sucks and I don't post it. Best case, you're all going to have some really delicious smut.

[liesmyth]

Sending thoughts and prayers to you cause almost 40k notes in 5 days on the ponte sullo stretto post?? Oh I just KNOW you are witnessing the most insane and ignorant takes conceivable

🫡 thank you for your sympathy. I haven't been able to use my activity page in 5 days because I've been mobile only and you can't mute posts from the app so every time I try to look at my notes it's just. well. some of the tags are very funny ig

[shepherds-of-haven]

reporting in to send the ask for what each of the shepherds carry in their packs 🫡 blade gets tapped for a what’s in my purse vlog and the video is just a knife. and a knife. and a knife. and a knife—

Thank you for your service 🫡

Out in the field, if you were to grab a pack and rummage through it, only to find it wasn't yours, you'd find the following (excludes the standard field kit for Shepherd officers, which includes a bedroll, a tent/tarp, blanket, canteen, soap, toiletries, various changes of clothes, equipment to care for horses/ahfuri, mess kit with eating utensils and tin plates and etc., and the obvious standards like money and etc.):

Blade: a sturdy, rigorously-organized, plain and utilitarian pack containing: fire-starting tools (flint, steel, and tinder). utility/hunting knife (for things like cutting rope, skinning deer and fish, etc). dagger (for emergencies. in case the ones he keeps on his person are taken away from him). small portable writing set (comes with a flat, collapsible tablet that serves as a writing desk, ink, parchment, and pen) for composing letters/orders/messages to send home. emergency first aid (minimalist: basically consists of a bottle of alcohol for sterilization, needle and medical thread for stitches, and some clean bandages). dried meat or jerky, hardtack biscuits (emergency rations). small cooking pot. whetstone (for sharpening his weapons). fishing hook and twine. hawking whistle. maps. rope. various small utility tools.

Trouble: a battered, worn and stained rucksack containing: fire-starting tools. charch and matches. various snacks and extra rations (trail mix, etc.). cubes of fat and bullion or various seasonings for meals. small cooking pot. extra ammunition (a lot of it). tools to maintain and clean his firearms. utility/hunting knife. rain-proof cover (can be used for himself or his rifle). extra gloves and socks. whatever novel he's currently reading. explosives (😳), various tools to create distractions (smoke grenades, etc.). signaling mirror. compass. timepiece. dice. playing cards. insect repellent salve. maybe fishing hook and twine if he expects to be "roughing" it for a long time! spyglass.

Tallys: a clean, well-maintained leather bag with Elvish adornments containing: large kit containing several different vials of various elixirs, tinctures, oils, and extracts (serve different purposes like reviving the unconscious, numbing pain, putting someone to sleep, etc.) as well as various different powders and dried herbs (some are poisonous, as Chase had the misfortune of discovering when he snooped too much); teabags; map; Elvish animal whistle (used for various purposes: as an animal or bird lure, for communicating while hunting or in camouflage, as a distraction); tifin (small Elvish flute) if she thinks she's going to be away for a really long time; Elvish hunting knife; kit of wax, resin, twine, and whittling knife to maintain her bow and arrows; first aid kit; woven Elvish mat (often used for meditation and dawn prayer rites, but can be used just for sitting more comfortably on things, as a lap blanket, or even as a scarf/shawl for extra warmth); small empty containers for foraging and protecting things like berries, mushrooms, leaves, etc.; Elvish field guide describing the various uses of flora and local plant matter; Elvish calendar and daily book of proverbs to keep track of the days (also doubles as a brief journal); pen; fire-starting kit.

Shery: Shery doesn't actually embark on missions into the field and actually has never left Haven (unless you're reading her latest short story on Patreon, lol), so the contents of her pack are at the moment hypothetical! Because of her inexperience, I'd guess that she'd both err on extreme overcaution and overpacking and also make some impractical choices, like bringing too many books, outfits for all kinds of weather, a parasol, a sewing kit, a little stuffed animal for good luck, a teapot, a nail file, an extra blanket and a fluffy pillow, and things like that! But she'd also have sensible choices, too, just way too many of them!

Riel: when he goes on business trips he typically has a whole trunk of things with him LOL but if forced to come along on a field mission, my guess would be that he'd mostly bring different changes of clothes, his hygiene and toiletries kit (complete with hair pomade, cologne, and fresh handkerchiefs), and then would just assume/rely on gold getting him whatever else he needed 😂😂 Actually he'd also certainly pack a valise with whatever current documents or contracts he's been working on, plenty of stationary and ink, a notepad for taking notes, a foldable writing desk, books, and whatever proof he'd need of being (at that time) Master of Merchants Guild, like his official stamps and wax seals and whatnot. Basically whatever he'd need for doing work on the road! 😂 Oh, he'd also pack a gun. Just in case!

Chase: a deceptively-slim, innocuous rucksack that is surprisingly hard to open if you're not familiar with it, containing: several lockpick sets. a bottle of alcohol to bribe informants with (or light a fire, sanitize a wound, what have you). rope. file. utility knife. whetstone. extra ammunition. fire-starting kit. tools to maintain his firearms. charch. playing cards. whatever book he's currently struggling through as homework. various shiny trinkets that can be traded, bargained, bribed, or used as a distraction. devices used as distractions (flashbags, smoke grenades, low-level explosives). grooming kit with comb, pomade, cologne, mirror, etc. scarf (can be used as a fashion accessory, mask to obscure lower half of face, or, in a pinch, as a method of strangling someone 🙂). wire (don't ask). mysterious vials (could be poison, could be acid to burn through locks). different accessories, clothes, and wig for different disguises. special gripped shoes for climbing and capering. small grappling hook. net/bolas (typically used to trip opponents up or rig traps). recently-acquired reed harp (harmonica) that he uses to amuse/torture teammates with.

Red: a slim, casually-packed, strangely collegiate bag (he generally travels light because he cheats and conjures most of what he needs as he needs it), containing: whatever book he's currently reading. field journal and writing implements. foldable writing desk. scroll container to protect any precious documents or papers he might come across. various Mage-y implements like chalk, lyme, certain compounds that help with arcane magic and drawing runes. measuring ruler. various charged lodestones and keystones. maps. compass. grooming kit for his endless hair needs 😳 (pomade, comb, mirror, etc.). multi-use mini game board (you can play various games on it like Elements, checkers, sui, etc.). small containers for collecting specimens. travel lantern (for exploring ruins without having to deal with a guttering torch flame). insect repellant salve. salve for burns and aches. magnifying glass. small flat cushion for sitting/laying on if the ground is extremely lumpy.

Ayla: a carelessly battered, fraying rucksack with small carved totems dangling from it, containing: backup canteens of water (emergency only). collapsible trowel to dig holes (generally to dig up roots, tubers, or to find water). maps. compass. sundial. lots and lots of rations (the majority of her pack will contain non-perishable food). sewing kit (doubles both as first aid and for emergency repairs to clothes). colored twine (primarily used to mark trails so you don't get lost, demarcate certain things you'll need to find again later, and also doubles as a Jalis hand-game to play with another person when bored). playing cards. dice. rope. hunting/utility knife. lockpick set. sun lotion (to protect the skin). extra tarp (to erect emergency lean-to/rain shelter/shade; doubles as emergency extra blanket). file. hairties for her braid. jade stone from her parents. slingshot/leather thong to hurl rocks with (this is a deadly weapon in her hands). signaling mirror. survival whistle. small torch. fire-starting kit. whittling knife for when she's bored and wants to carve things into her staff or just out of hunks of wood. field guide telling her what's safe to eat and what's not. jalis rattle (sort of like maracas: it's a small wooden cylinder filled with dry rice) in case she's in the mood to provide a rhythm to someone else's music.

Briony: a fat, cheerful pack with many charms and souvenirs dangling from every strap, containing: a field journal/sketchbook full of sketches, drawing/writing implements. a hairbrush. haphazard grooming case (eyelash curler, a bit of blush, no mirror). fingerless gloves. her latest book. extra hair ties/hair ribbons. oils and rags to maintain her armor. whetstone. fire-starter kit. maps and compass. some snacks, but typically she forgets about them. fishing hook and twine. headscarf to conceal her hair if need be. field encyclopedia/traveler's guide (more about various landmarks and places of interest she might see than survivalist tips). first-aid kit (used more than most to deal with small scrapes and wounds). hunting/utility knife. spare dagger. stargazing map. spyglass. pouch full of pretty rocks or dried flowers she picks up along the way. spellbook full of spells she's learning/practicing along the way.

Lavinet: an expensive but practical and well-made leather saddlebag containing: compact maquillage and grooming case (hairbrush, lipstick, mirror, perfume, hair conditioner, etc.). extra riding gloves. extra handkerchiefs. whetstone, tools to maintain her lance and sword. tools to maintain her saddlery. horse treats. fur throw that doubles as small extra blanket, extra warmth as a shawl, or as a cushion to sit on. extra pair of riding boots in case one set fails. Naveen signet ring and official accoutrements. writing set, desk, and seal. current book. hat to shade her head from the sun. sewing kit and patches of fabric to repair clothes. first aid manual. wax (has various uses, but she primarily uses it to plug her ears if she absolutely needs to). fire-starting kit. chainmail that can be concealed under the clothes. stiletto knife. corset (you never know, darling!)

Halek: an ordinary, standard pack containing: tools for weapons maintenance (for his spear). small compact bow and quiver. hunting/utility knife. exorcist dagger. recipe book and culinary guide regarding exotic ingredients or places of interest. various ingredients he picks up in towns or foraging in the wild. cooking oil, seasonings and spices, emergency salt, cubes of fat and bullion and stock, dried herbs, dried meat and cheese, flour. water-proof, heavy cloak for winter travel (also doubles as an extra blanket, as the standard-issue one might be too short for him). collar to suppress his blood-rage if need be. fire-starting kit. elk treats. small bell to tie to his elk in case he needs to. twine. grappling hook and rope. maps and compass. herbal teas. fishing hook. animal bait and snares. bear repellant. cooking pot and small frying pan. sand (used to scrub pots and pans when water is scarce or frozen). signal whistle. special snow boots if traveling through snow.

[crippled-peeper]

I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG!!! im a cripple, im mentally ill, im traumatized, I can get pissed off, and you seem to understand. sending all my thoughts and prayers if you want them

Awwww thanks friend 🫡💕 I love you too