#with friends who made me feel like i deserved it and who mocked and shamed me for setting boundaries

[endtimers]

brains are so dumb why cant i forgive myself for being cringe and saying stupid shit at age 18. Get Over Yourself it's not a big deal and it's not a moral failing to be embarrassing

[emberuby]

you deserve better | l.hs

pairing: lee heeseung x fem! reader

summary: heeseung overhears you crying about your asshole of a boyfriend. he'd do anything to show you how much better you deserve.

warnings: best friend's brother! heeseung, age gap (hee is 3 years older), mentions of body shaming, heavy insecurity, toxic ex, infidelity but it's deserved, soft dom! heesung, simp heesung, sub! reader, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, missionary, creampie, sort of angst?, hurt comfort, not proofread.

wc: 4.7k

“Stop being such a pussy and break up with him already,” Sunoo groaned, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. Hojung slapped him on the shoulder and glared fiercely. She felt a surge of frustration on your behalf at Sunoo's nonchalant attitude.

“Sunoo! That’s not helping,” Hojung snarled, her eyes filled with annoyance as she looked at him, but they softened when she turned back to you.

You looked utterly miserable, eyes red and puffy from crying. Your hair was a mess, and your mascara was smeared in blotchy streaks across your cheeks from constantly rubbing your face.

You had recently discovered that your boyfriend of six months was growing bored of your relationship, especially your sex life. You knew it was a trivial thing to cry over, and Sunoo was right. Breaking up with him would be the simplest solution to end this cycle of misery.

“Come on, I'm just being real. He’s clearly not worth it. He humiliates you in front of his friends, sexualises you in front of them, mocks your weight, and can’t even make you orgasm but has the audacity to say the sex is boring? Hojung, why haven’t we kicked his ass yet?” Sunoo folded his arms across his chest and scowled, imagining the worst possible things happening to your boyfriend.

Hojung looked deflated as she slowly nodded, agreeing with everything Sunoo said. She grabbed your hand softly and looked at you with pure sympathy. “Y/N, I hate seeing you like this. Why are you still with him?”

You hiccuped, feeling on the verge of tears again at her worried tone. Despite hating to burden your best friends with your problems, they had been persistent in getting you to open up about what had been happening since they noticed your change in demeanour over the past few weeks.

You had been unusually quiet and dejected, often barricading yourself in your room. Sunoo and Hojung decided to hold an intervention, and now here you were, tipsy off a few seltzers, spilling everything that had been plaguing your relationship onto them. At first, they were angry with you for not telling them sooner, but now their focus was solely on your cunt of a boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” you sniffed, “I have no idea why I’m still with a man who makes me so utterly insecure. I guess I think…I won’t be able to find someone if I were to leave him. I’ve never had guys go after me so a small part of me thinks I should just deal with this because what other choice do I have?” You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this point, you couldn’t care less. 

“Is that what he told you?” Sunoo asked, now matching Hojung’s level of rage.

You stayed silent, but the answer was yes. Your boyfriend always told you how lucky you were to be in a relationship with him given how dull and flawed you were. Before this relationship, you couldn’t remember having this many confidence issues, but ever since he came into your life, you can’t help but believe his words. Maybe you were so undesirable that this is your one and only chance for a relationship. 

“Snap out of it, Y/N! None of what you said was true. You are beautiful and so incredible." Hojung furrowed her eyebrow and drunkenly yelled, “I will kill that bastard for making you feel this way, I swear!”

“Oh! But if I said that, you’d call me all sorts of dramatic,” Sunoo scoffed.

“Yeah, because you would actually mean it,” Hojung retorted, snapping her fingers in front of Sunni’s face. It made you flashback to your early high school days when Sunoo would go after boys who teased you, usually by physically confronting them in the courtyard.

“I…You’re right. Both of you. I will break up with him, soon. I just hope I’m not such a coward that I chicken out like last time,” you used the ends of your sweater to wipe the tears away from your eyes, not caring anymore about the mascara stains that were being left on the fabric.

“You’re telling me you tried to break up with him before and didn’t follow through?” Hojung gasped. 

Before you could answer, you heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, you saw Lee Heeseung, Hojung’s older brother. Despite knowing he was off-limits, you couldn’t help but get nervous and infatuated every time he was around. Ever since you met him at thirteen, you’ve had a crush on him that was all too obvious to Hojung, not that she ever commented on it.

Perhaps it was slightly more than a tiny crush, but either way, you knew your place and never sought after him. Even if he wasn’t your best friend’s older brother, you knew he was way above your league. He carried himself with a confidence and beauty you could only dream of possessing.

It had been a year since you’d last seen Heeseung. He went off to a university in Europe but came back periodically to visit his family. Now that he was almost graduating and had more free time, he decided to come home for a few months and was staying at your and Hojung’s apartment for the week to catch up with his baby sister. 

Hojung snapped her head up at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Heeseung! What do you need? We’re having a private conversation,” she scolded. 

Heeseung came up behind her to ruffle her hair, much to her annoyance. “You need to watch how much you drink,” he said sternly. 

“Ugh, I didn’t drink that much. I’m fine. Now go away!” She slurred.

“Fine!” Heeseung raised his arms slightly in surrender, “I just came to get some water.”

Heeseung looked down into your eyes, mesmerising you. You held eye contact for a moment before you got too nervous and tried to find anywhere else to look. Although his stare was rather intense and mostly unreadable, there was a hint of concern etched on his expression. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded meekly, face heating up at the embarrassment of him having to see you in this state—a crying and babbling mess over a boyfriend who clearly wasn’t worth your tears. You tried to lower your gaze so it wouldn’t be so obvious to him, but it was mostly useless.

Heeseung walked over to the fridge and took out four water bottles. When he came back to the table, you felt him behind you, and the heat emanating off his body was all too noticeable. Your breathing became irregular as he leaned over from behind you to place the water bottles on the table. 

Hojung took a swig of water and suddenly tumbled out of her seat, running towards the kitchen to empty the contents of her stomach into the sink. You stood up to hold her hair back, followed by a worried but calm Heeseung. 

“How much did she drink?” Heeseung asked.

You kept your mouth shut, but Sunoo didn’t seem to have a problem with tattling as he said, “A few seltzers, a bottle of soju, three shots of tequila,” he grabbed a can from Hojung’s side of the table and inspected it, “And a beer?”

“Fucking hell,” you heard Heeseung murmur under his breath. “Hojung, what is your problem? You know you’re a lightweight.”

Hojung just groaned back, too dishevelled to say anything. You placed your palm on her forehead and felt it burn. 

“Alright, that’s enough, let’s wrap it up. Hojung, go to bed,” Heeseung scolded. 

“Sunoo, I’ll call you an Uber and—,” you started.

“No, he can stay and sleep on the couch, it’s too late. All of you go clean yourselves up and go to sleep,” Heeseung instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Heeseung and Sunoo led Hojung back to her room, holding onto her by the shoulders.  

You were sitting alone at the table now, scattered with empty cans of cheap alcohol and glass bottles of half-empty liquor. It was half past midnight, and although you desperately wanted to sleep, your mind was still plagued with the thoughts of how you were going to break up with the man who was poisoning your life.

You hadn’t even realised that Heeseung sat across from you until you felt him grab the drink can from your hand. He looked over to you disapprovingly, but also worried. 

“Hojung and Sunoo both went to bed, you should too,” he said quietly. His voice was so soft and soothing that it did make you want to fall asleep to the sound of it.

“I don’t think I can.”

Heeseung had heard everything you said, and he was doing a rather good job at hiding just how enraged he was at your scum of a boyfriend. Not to mention how angry he was at the words you said about yourself. It made him want to grab you by the shoulders and tell you in detail just how gorgeous and desirable you were, right after breaking the jaw of the man who made you cry like this.

If it were up to him, you would never cry unless it’s from pleasure from how good he made you feel. 

He snapped out of his crude thought. “Your boyfriend sounds like a real charmer,” he said sarcastically. 

You looked away from him, embarrassed, “So I guess you heard everything?”

“Sorry,” he said all too unapologetic, “I’m not the type to eavesdrop, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t want you to think I’m pathetic. I swear I’ll break up with him tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, just misguided. You think way too low of yourself.” His stare made you feel so small. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.”

Your face heated up like crazy. You finally looked back up into his eyes and Heeseung felt amused at your flustered and shocked face. You were adorable beyond your comprehension. 

“You don’t know how many men would do anything to have you.” Present company included, Heeseung thought. 

You shook your head, chuckling weakly, “You don’t have to say that.”

His eyes went dark now, frustrated at how you didn’t believe him. He leaned over the table to grab your hand. It was comforting and far too gentle for you to have reacted by flinching at the sudden touch. “I mean it, Y/N. You deserve so much better than him,” he lowered his voice and whispered, “You deserve to feel good. A man who can’t pleasure his woman is what’s actually pathetic.”

You had no idea what to say at that, your body going stiff at his insinuating words and the feeling of his thumb rubbing over your hand. 

He smiled tenderly at you, trying to soothe your worries. “I could show you what it feels like to be taken care of.” He leaned closer towards you now, and you felt yourself leaning as well. “Come sit over here,” he patted his lap.

You had no idea what you were thinking when you stood up from your seat and began walking towards him, but you felt him pulling you in. In these months of misery and heartbreak, Heeseung’s comforting presence was magnetic and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting close to him.

You stood in front of him, and he gently held your waist to pull you down to sit over his lap, legs scandalously spread in front of his pelvis. You felt yourself heat up even more, especially the in-between of our legs. You were wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy white shirt, no bra. Heeseung snaked his arms up your back and pushed you even closer so your chest was flush with his. 

You were flustered at the feeling of your tits pressed up against him, and your shorts dampening ever so slightly with your arousal. 

“I bet I could be a better kisser than him,” Heeseung whispered. 

Your faces were so close now that one slight push would have your lips pressed up against each other. “We…We can’t do this Heeseung,” you managed to say.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He cupped your face, “you’re going to break up with anyways.”

“No, that’s not it,” you bit your lip and reached up, grasping onto his shoulder, “It just feels…I don’t know if Hojung will be happy with me—”

He placed a finger over your mouth, “Shh, enough of that. She doesn’t matter right now, and you do. What is it that you want?”

You leaned into his palm, ever so hypnotised by his stare. You stayed silent, your mind thinking of all the ways this may hurt Hojung. What if she thought of you as betraying her? You’ve always had feelings for him, but what if you succumbed to your desires as just a means of using him to get over your heartbreak? You cared far too much about Heeseung to do that to him. What if he just wanted to use you? 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung grabbed you tightly by the hips, making you rub your pelvis against his, not helping at all with your wave of arousal. You held back a whimper. “Tell me, gorgeous. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you finally pushed yourself against his lips. It didn’t take long for Heeseung to hold your head and push his tongue inside your mouth. The way he was using his tongue was making you hazy, not being able to suppress your noises any longer. It was rough and passionate. A fiery passion you weren’t used to. 

“Stay quiet, baby. Don’t want to wake anyone up, right?”

You nodded weakly, but you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to keep that promise. His tongue now latched onto your jaw and you clasped your lips together to hold back your whimper. Your squirming made Heeseung’s cock harden and stand up, and you began feeling sensitive to the feeling of his erection pressing up against you. 

It was almost involuntary the way you began grinding against his crotch, and you felt desperate. His lips were now on your neck and he grabbed a handful of your ass, steadily pushing you back and forth on his thighs. It made you see stars. 

It was embarrassing how you felt yourself nearing your orgasm just by this. You have been so sexually deprived and neglected it made you sensitive to real and passionate intimacy. It was in the feeling of your clit pressing against the fabric of your panties, and Heeseung’s hand inside your shirt playing and palming at your tits. Your nipples hardened at the pressure.

Fuck, you were going to cum practically untouched.

You quickened your pace, your hips beginning to tire as you started chasing the high.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” Heeseung whispered. You nodded meekly, not being able to speak a word. He gripped your hips, halting your movements. “Why don’t you take off your panties and ride my thigh? It will feel so much better.”

Although you were frustrated by having your pleasure taken away from you, you stood up on unbalanced legs in front of him once more. He put two fingers into the hem of your shorts and pulled you towards him. He leaned his head towards your leg and began placing kisses on your thigh as you felt your shorts slide down your legs and eventually pool on the floor.

“You’re fucking drenched,” you felt him place his fingers on the wet spot on your panties and whimpered at the feeling. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

You shook your head. Your boyfriend was the first sexual relationship you had, and he never seemed to be interested in making you feel pleasurable. You weren’t even sure if he knew how to.

“Bastard,” Heeseung murmured under his breath. He was utterly furious at how your boyfriend had practically been using you for his own pleasure like you were some object. He discarded your panties and pulled you back on his thigh.

Your clit came into contact with his thigh. He rocked you back and forth and your mind short-circuited at the friction of his jeans and your sensitive clit. You pressed your lips into his shoulders trying to muffle your moans, not trusting yourself to keep it in.

Heeseung was in bliss seeing you like this, desperate and beautiful and in utter pleasure. He felt his jeans get dampened from where your cunt was drooling on them. 

Because you were already so hot and stimulated, it didn’t take long for you to feel it. The feeling was almost foreign to you since it’s been so long since you’ve pleasured yourself. You were going to cum on his thigh. 

“I-I think…I’m close,” you whined.

“I know, baby,” he cupped the back of your head gently, “cum for me.”

You rolled your eyes back as you felt your orgasm wash over you. You felt it everywhere in your body. You wrapped your arms tightly around Heeseung’s torso, almost like you’d fly away if you weren’t anchored to him. He kept slowly pushing you on his thigh, gently helping you come down from your high.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you said after you had time to calm down.

“Don’t thank me. Not yet,” he chuckled. You were confused until you felt yourself rise as he picked you up and began walking towards his bedroom.

He laid you gently on his bed and leaned down to press his lips on your forehead. You were prepared for him to fuck you some more, and as much as you were tired, a major part of you was excited at the thought of him wearing you out for the night. You were surprised when he stood back up and grabbed your phone out of his pocket. You had no idea how you got that.

“Open it,” he demanded. You did so, feeling upset at yourself for being so unquestioning and submissive. You couldn’t help yourself though as you had the utmost trust towards Heeseung. 

He went through your contacts and found the man he was looking for. His name on your phone was followed by a sparkly pink heart after it. It made him want to gag. He pressed the call button, surprised at how quickly the man picked up given how late it was into the night. “Babe?” came out of the other line.

He put it on speaker and handed you the phone. You were immensely afraid to take it, still hesitant about your ability to leave this dead relationship. “Tell him. Tell him now or I will,” he whispered spitefully. He wanted to watch you dump that pathetic excuse of a man before he let himself have you fully. 

He couldn’t give a fuck about how the other man felt about his girlfriend cheating on him, but he knew you needed to get this over with. He wanted you to forget your boyfriend and focus solely on him as he took you.

“Y/N, what do you want?” the voice on the phone came out harsh as he was getting annoyed at your silence, making Heeseung clench his fists. How dare he speak to you like that, he thought.

“H-Hi…I called because I wanted to tell you something,” you said gently. Heeseung was sure he did not deserve to hear your soft voice. 

“Okay? Well hurry the hell up, I want to sleep.” Heeseung felt himself holding back from becoming violent.

“I think…I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

“Do what? What are you talking about?”

“I…,” your eyes trailed towards Heeseung, looking for help. He held your hand to help comfort you, but he wasn’t about to break up with your boyfriend for you so he gave you a stern look to continue what you were saying. You decided to rip the bandaid and said, “I think we should break up.”

There was a silence on the other line until your boyfriend—now ex—began raising his voice and cursing at you, “You’re not fucking serious, Y/N. Is this seriously why you called me in the middle of the night? I mean, what the fuck?” You noticed Heeseung clench his jaw. “Go ahead, leave me. You’re just going to come crawling back when you can’t find someone who can put up with how boring you are. Honestly, you are suck a fucking bitch, too scared to—,” Heeseung grabbed the phone out of your hand.

There were tears welling up in your eyes, but you were trying your absolute best not to cry over this prick. You already embarrassed yourself enough. 

Heeseung knew he couldn’t yell in fear of waking up the others in the apartment, so he said as quietly as he could, “Listen here you fucking cunt. Speak to her like that again and I will rip your throat out with my bare hands, do you understand?”

“Who the fuck are you?” the man on the line spat, but you could hear the slight fear in his voice. Your ex has never been a particularly confident man around men who intimidated him. Heeseung’s strong presence was clearly making him feel inferior, even if it was through the phone.

“I said do you understand? Never call this number again. In fact, don’t step or look or breathe anywhere near her, asshole.”

“Are you fucking—,” Heeseung ended the call and blocked his number for good measure. 

Heeseung leaned down and pressed his forehead against your forehead, “How do you feel?”

Instead of responding you grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his lips on yours. You felt like your body would not function unless he was on you. You didn’t want Heeseung to think you were upset over leaving your boyfriend, because you weren’t. You couldn’t give a fuck about him anymore, but fuck were you embarrassed by your cowardly attitude.

You may have been too weak to take action against your now ex-boyfriend, but you mustered up all of your strength to show Heeseung how much you wanted him, and solely him. 

He grabbed your waist and pushed your back on the mattress. You were moaning into each other’s mouths. It was hot and desperate. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand pinning your wrists above you, the other descending down to your waist and grinding into you. You moved your hips up to meet his, trying to satisfy your craving for getting him inside you. 

He kissed you one more time before trailing his mouth down your throat, eliciting louder moans out of you. “Please,” you begged. You moved your hands to try to take off his shirt, forgetting he had them restrained. 

Heeseung let go of your hands, but instead of undressing himself, he peeled off your white shirt, leaving your bare breasts on display for him. He couldn’t hold himself back from moaning, gripping one with his hands and wrapping his lips around the other. It was practically impossible to keep quiet at the feeling of his mouth flicking and sucking on your sensitive bud. 

You felt his fingers yet again, but this time on your bare cunt, making you flinch in sensitivity. “Heeseung…,” you said breathlessly.

“Baby, you’re drenched,” his eyes were like a predator before it was about to devour its prey. He moved down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders, thighs resting comfortably on his shoulders. He began lapping at your hole, and it felt like this was all that he was made to do. He was meant to pleasure you and now that he has been given the chance, he won’t be able to live without the feeling of your arousal on his tongue.

He licked up all your juices and then moved up to begin sucking on your clit. You accidentally yelped, despite your desperate effort to stay quiet. Heeseung chuckled, and looked up at you, “Baby, I told you to stay quiet. Or would you rather I shove your face into the mattress and take you from behind?”

You clenched at the thought, not entirely sure if you would mind. It didn’t get past him how positively you reacted to his threat. “Next time,” he murmured before continuing the devouring of your cunt. 

Your hand was tightly pressed over your mouth as you felt yourself cum on his tongue, your body shaking as you began to take in the feeling of overstimulation. You don’t remember a time in your life when you’ve had more than one orgasm in a single night. Heeseung climbed up once more and placed a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You taste incredible,” he groaned, making your face heat up in flames. You couldn’t believe he could say such intimate and coarse things so calmly. He began kissing your neck again, surely leaving a mark for tomorrow. That’s something your future self would have to worry about. 

He slid off his jeans and groaned as you reached down to cup his cock with your hand, mind going haywire at how massive it felt. You were nervous now to take it in your cunt, but he removed your hand and thrust himself inside you in one quick motion, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

You were both moaning now, your walls blaming around his cock from the pleasure, but partly due to your struggling of trying to take his size. You were still a bit too tight even with the two times he’s already made you cum. He let you slowly adjust to it before increasing his rhythm, pumping his cock more deeply and quickly.

His back was now littered with your scratches from clawing at him. He was pounding into you at a speed that was making it harder to form any thoughts. How could you, when you were having your guts rearranged by the man you’ve been in love with since you were a little girl? You felt his cock throbbing inside your walls, and you knew your climax was coming closer, as well as his.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum baby,” he breathed. He reached down and you felt his fingers playing with your clit, trying to get you to cum at the same time as you. Even if you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, the sounds of the bed creaking were not going to fool anyone who was awake at this time. 

“Cum inside me, p-please,” you managed to say in between whines. He didn’t object, and you felt your insides become hot as his seed spread inside you, coating your walls. At the same time, you clamped around his cock as you came with him. You gripped tightly at his back, needing him as close to you as humanly possible. 

Heeseung stayed still as he waited for you to calm down, running his hands up and down your waist to help warm you and stop your shaking. He pressed his forehead against yours. It was just you and him in this world, breathing slowly to each other’s rhythm. 

He knew you were exhausted, so he wasn’t about to bring it up now so as to not overwhelm you, but you were his now. You were now forever belonging to him. There is only one thing that will let him live a fulfilling life and it’s to keep you in his life, happy and protected.

While you were sound asleep, you didn’t even notice your phone vibrating throughout your sound slumber.

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’m guessing you’re still asleep but…seriously girl. i’m glad you’re moving on from that garbage bin of a human (please please please tell me u broke up with him) but did you seriously have to do it with my OWN BROTHER????

LEE HOJUNG [09:27]: i’ll kill him if he hurts you i hope you know that.

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: are you guys together now or smth?

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: he’s never allowed back here again don’t argue with me istfg

LEE HOJUNG [09:28]: UGH…YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING 🤮🤮 WAKE UP ALREADY SO I CAN BEAT YOUR ASSES 

KIM SUNOO [10:03]: Yeah…I’m not shocked in the slightest. 

[oneeyedlove]

King of the ashes.

summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS

wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry

note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Find part 1 here

[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]

124 AC

The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.

The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.

Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.

“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.

“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.

“You did not deserve it.”

The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.

“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.

“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.

“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”

It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.

“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.

“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.

Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.

“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.

“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.

“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”

Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.

A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.

“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”

Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.

“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.

“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”

“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.

His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.

The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.

Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.

“So… What do you make of it?”

Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.

“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.

“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”

A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.

“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.

“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.

A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.

“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.

“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.

It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.

As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.

“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.

Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.

”Leaving a marking… to remember.”

---

129 AC

Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.

Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.

The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.

Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.

---

The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.

The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.

Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.

"Jacaerys, wait...please."

He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.

"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.

"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.

"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.

Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.

“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”

“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.

“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”

Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.

"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.

“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”

"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"

"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.

“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.

“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.

“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”

The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.

“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”

The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.

"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"

“I will.”

Neither of them knew, but she lied.

Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.

And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.

“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.

A.V.”

---

The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.

The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.

The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.

With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.

Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.

The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.

“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.

“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.

His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.

“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.

“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.

He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.

“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.

“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.

“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.

“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.

“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.

“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.

“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.

“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”

Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.

“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”

“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.

“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”

The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.

“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”

Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.

“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”

“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”

”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.

In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.

“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”

“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”

There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.

“I would do anything for you.” He begged.

“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.

"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"But not my crown."

“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.

Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.

The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.

Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.

The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.

Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.

Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.

Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.

The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.

Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.

“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.

“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.

“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.

A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.

Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.

The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.

A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.

Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.

A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.

When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.

“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.

Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.

“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.

Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.

Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.

“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.

Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.

The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.

“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.

His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.

“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.

Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.

Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.

Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.

The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.

As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.

As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.

She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.

“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.

The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.

Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.

She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.

He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.

Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.

A.T. & A.V.

---

Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch

[dinarosie]

I Was Bullied Too, So Why Didn’t I Turn Out Like Severus Snape?

I came across an anti-Snape post where someone shared their experience of being bullied in school. They said that even though they were bullied, they were able to overcome it, which is why they admired James Potter—because he changed and stopped being a bully. However, they hate Snape for not being able to move on from his past and for still behaving like a bully towards kids.

Everyone has the right to hate or love the characters based on their taste but What bothers me is how people often compare their own trauma to others' and disregard the genetic and environmental differences that shape us as individuals. I’ve decided to write a long post comparing my own life with Snape’s—two people who were both bullied as children. it was difficult for me to write this post, but I hope this comparison shows that not everyone who experiences bullying ends up the same. The variances in our upbringing and support systems play a crucial role in shaping who we become.

When I was seven years old, I was mocked and humiliated by a group of older girls on the school bus (they were eleven at the time). They made it clear that they bullied me because I was smaller and weaker than them. They treated me in a way that made me believe I deserved their bullying. I thought a weak and ugly girl like me was deserving of all their humiliation. They would mess up my hair, pull it, and ridicule me for having messy and ugly hair. Whenever I cried, they laughed. They didn't even let me be friends with other girls. To torment me further, they would point at me, whisper to each other, and giggle, making me feel even more isolated. I had allergies and a runny nose, and they wouldn’t let me wipe it, which they used as another reason to belittle me, saying I was disgusting. Even if there was an empty seat, they wouldn’t let me sit with them because I was "gross." I was terrified of them, hated school because of them, and cried every morning, begging not to go to school.

But why didn’t I turn out like Severus Snape?

1- I grew up like a normal child in every other aspect of my life. I was cared for and valued. I always had birthday parties with cake and gifts. I was praised when I got good grades. I had friends outside of school to play with, went on family vacations, and had fun times. From childhood to adulthood, I’ve had a safe home, enough sleep, good food, and a loving family.

2- I had parents who loved and cared about me. When my mother found out about the bullying, she went to the school and demanded they stop it. My parents also enrolled me in a private school to protect me from further bullying. When I started having nightmares and trouble sleeping, they took me to a child therapist.

3- My grandparents adored me. I would stay at their house when my parents were at work, and they made my childhood even more joyful. I always had safe arms to run to. Plus, my aunts and uncles cared for me and regularly took me to parks and other fun places, showering me with gifts and making sure I enjoyed my time.

4- My family had a respectable place in society, and I was never shamed or humiliated because of my family's circumstances. My father cared for me, my sister, and my mother, and he worked hard to provide for our needs. He respected my mother, and I never witnessed any abuse from him toward her.

5- My family had a stable income, and I always had new, appropriate clothes to wear. I never had to worry about poverty, hunger, or wearing hand-me-downs that would make me feel inferior to my peers.

6- My bullies mocked me, but they never caused me serious physical harm. I never feared for my life or sexual assault at school. The bullying was short-lived, lasting less than two years, and by the time I was a teenager, it had completely stopped. As I grew older, I made plenty of good friends and was popular among them. I have many fond memories from high school with my friends.

7- As a teenager, I didn’t worry about my future. My concerns were not about surviving a war, avoiding humiliation, or escaping poverty. I was free to plan my life, knowing I would go to university and study what I loved. Whenever I needed help, I knew I could count on my family—they were always there to support me.

8- I’m a psychology student, and studying this field has completely shifted my perspective on myself and others. It has allowed me to see the world with greater depth and empathy. I’ve become better at recognizing not only my own psychological wounds but also those of others, which has helped me connect with people on a deeper level. I've also sought therapy, both in-person and online, and have seen positive results. While I still struggle with some issues from my past—like feeling insecure about my appearance, doubting people’s motives, and having a hard time trusting—I’ve learned how to manage these feelings fairly well.

All of these factors combined have shaped me into someone different from Severus Snape. Yes, I was bullied, but I didn’t turn out like him because, unlike Snape, I was given numerous opportunities to grow, to experience love and joy, to heal, and to find pleasure in life.

Now, It’s much easier for someone like me to be kind and nice to others, to love people, to forgive myself and others, and to move on from those who don’t like me. It’s easier for me to see the world and people not as threats but with a more mature and balanced perspective. but I’m under no illusion that I am a better and more worthy person than Severus Snape or anyone like him who didn’t have the chance to heal. I simply know that I’ve been luckier, and for that, I’m grateful. But I never want to dismiss or belittle the suffering of others or blame them for their psychological struggles.

I can’t say for certain what I would’ve done in Snape’s exact situation or how bitter I might’ve become. But I’m certain of one thing: I could never be as brave or as selfless as Snape was, sacrificing his own life so readily for others. I know that I could never be a hero like him.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 4

Intro: Octavinelle in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, the fish mafia deserve their own warning, mentions of death in all of them, Floyd in his mer form

A/N: Floyd's one of my favorite characters, but I must admit that Jade's part is probably my favorite one that I've written.

Masterlist

It seems like you have the braincell in your trio today. When your idiots come to you with tears in their eyes and a sea anemone on their heads, there's a little part of you that wants to tell them to deal with it on their own. But you don't do that because sadly, you're a good friend. Instead, you trudge on over to the cafe run by the shadiest people on campus, and you meet the second shadiest person on campus.

Shady, sleazy little octopus, the man is. Another duke-in-line, this one to the merfolk, so he has the same status as you really, Azul Ashengrotto is another hard mode capture target and one you can't afford to cross. You sit down in his fancy VIP room and he tells you that he wants to make a deal with you. He'll shorten your friends' time working at the lounge if you work alongside them! Isn't he such a benevolent soul? You agree of course, and reading through the contract, there's not a lot of pitfalls that can even be made with such straightforward terms. You realize pretty early on that getting you on board was only Azul's road to getting Kalim and Leona to blow way too much money on the lounge, and according to the contract, you can't ask them to stop even if you wanted to.

He's not a bad boss at least. You stomp over to his office and demand to eat lunch there, because the break room has a certain pair of mers you'd be smart to avoid. He doesn't stop you, and he even makes for good conversation while you eat. You share the littlest bits and pieces of your life with him for the same crumbs he's willing to give out. You force him to stay and chat with you when you're on a closing shift because the ADeuce combo are in the back washing dishes. Slowly, it starts to feel like you're more than just acquaintances, and you start to think he's quite a nice guy if he just stopped trying to pull you into stupid deals.

Really nice—he even ends your and your friends' contracts with the lounge earlier, in exchange for you coming by often and hanging out with him.

The octopus won't kill you. You're not a hundred percent sure, but it's enough to cross him off the list of capture targets who might kill you without blinking.

At the very least, Azul will shed mock tears for you.

"Azul senpai, I brought you some snacks!" You saunter into his office comfortably, proudly presenting a wicker basket full of baked goods. He raises an eyebrow and sets down his pen, a questioning look on his face. "And what do you want in return?"

You pout at him, faking an expression of hurt. "I don't want anything!"

"Liar. Tell me what you came for."

You laugh and the facade breaks, cracking into pieces as you pick up your phone and show him some pictures. "This weekend, there's a festival in the sea, right? I got permission from the headmaster and my parents, so can you play tour guide for me, senpai?" Azul's smile stiffens slightly, and he coughs into his fist as he turns away. "Fine. But only if it's just the two of us. My services won't be bought with pastries if you want to bring someone else."

You still don't have a club! That's a shame, don't you think? No. You don't think it's a shame, because you don't have an interest in any club when your friends seemed clingier and clingier recently, barely even getting you time to yourself. Not that you minded of course, but wait, why are clubs mandatory now?

Let’s see…gargoyles? You'd rather avoid the fae prince. Basketball with Ace and Jamil and— no, the mer is there. Film research has that elf, maybe spelldrive with Leona, but oh? What's this? A mountain lover's club? That was never mentioned in the game, but it sure peaked your interest. You submit the papers to Kalim because he's the leader of the dorm it's more Jamil but whatever, and when you reach the club room for your very exciting first club meeting, who do you see but the shadiest person on campus? The best thing to do would be to close the door on this guy, but he...looks so happy? And he trained you as a server at the lounge anyway, so you know he's not too bad.

Jade Leech tells you he's been looking forward to having another member in the club, and when he looks at you with that sharp toothed smile, your dumb little human heart forces you to sit down and complete your club registration.

Yay, you?

The game itself was vague regarding the tweels' family background, but they were nothing to sneeze at for sure. The danger is swept to the back of your mind when the club president is so giddily talking about terrariums and mushrooms and when he asks if he's saying too much, you can only shrug and reply that you don't mind listening. You even jot down notes every once in a while, and it's really nice to see him so happy. Even if he is the shadiest guy in school. Thus, every Friday after class, you two go on hikes up hills and mountains, and you play assistant as he looks for new mushrooms or different things to use in his terrariums. When the sun sets, you have yourselves a little bonfire and roast some random food that maybe shouldn't be roasted, looking up at the stars and talking about everything and anything.

You still don't doubt he'd likely kill you if he must, but you think he'd rather not lose the only other member of his club and would thus warn you first before murdering you.

The stars are beautiful, but the moon is hidden away by conveniently placed clouds in the sky. "I wish I could see the moon." You whisper to Jade, sighing wistfully. When you look at him, there's an oddly dreamy look in his eyes as he replies.

"I wish I could have the moon closer to me. I wish the moon would let me touch it, run my fingers over its grooves and imperfections. I wish...I could hide the moon away so that no one else would yearn for it the way that I do."

Floyd Leech has something out for you, you just know it! He's been following you around and teasing you and calling you names, and you can't do anything because just remembering the way the villain died in Floyd's route has shivers going down your spine. He's whining that Azul and Jade have been acting all weird recently, but what does that have to do with you?! Your friends try to shield you from his bone crushing squeezes every once in a while, but they're all so busy these days that you can't even use them as sacrifices anymore. So you pop yourself into the school's store and pick up a cute little keychain. It's shiny and pretty and you decide to buy one for yourself and one for Floyd as an offering, praying to whatever deity existed that he'd chill and leave you alone. But with the way he looks at you after, with stunned, wide eyes and all, it makes you think you don't really know what exactly you did. He does kind of calm down after that. Emphasis on kind of.

He tells you he finds you real funny, and he now sort of listens when you tell him you can't breathe in between squeezes. He serves you at the lounge whenever you come by, giggling and gossiping about stupid customers even when he's supposed to be working his shift. He badgers you to attend his basketball games and practices, and you suck it up and go the extra mile by bringing sports drinks and towels for everyone in the team, if only because Ace and Jamil were there too. He's not awful once you've gotten to know him, and you've managed to wrap your head around his idea of fun enough to actually find it fun, running around in the school to find places to parkour and even going incognito outside campus to shop for shoes. You think you've found a way to maybe coexist peacefully with him, even having the guts to lightly scold him as you wrap up his injuries from grabbing some poor kid for Azul.

Well, to be honest, you still see him killing you as a possibility, if only a smaller one. At the very least, you think you're close enough that he would choose a more painless death for you should he want to get it done. Fingers crossed.

You find him mesmerizing in this form. All muscle and shiny teal skin, even his razor sharp teeth look so beautiful like this, and the webbing between his fingers were so cool, and his claws were so awesome, and his tail was downright majestic!

"Neh, Shrimpy, you've gone all quiet. Don't tell me you're scared~?"

You shake your head and come closer to the glass wall, pressing your hands up against the glass.

"Floyd senpai, you're so pretty." You whisper in a daze, eyes chasing after the flick of his tail. He freezes for a few seconds before laughing, swimming closer to you.

"Hey Shrimpy, you're real funny, ain'tcha? I think I'll keep ya'."

[menlove]

okay no no sorry ONE last comment and then I PROMMY I'm done for the day but

the thing abt the constant mocking of "I'm not like other girls" is that I don't think I've heard anyone over the age of 15 use that phrase in earnest in years. everyone who used that phrase used it in like middle and early high school.

when we were. you know. being relentlessly bullied for being masculine or for being undiagnosed autistic or gay or both. so yes, a lot of CHILDREN started saying they "weren't like other girls" bc when you're 13 you don't have the language to say "the constant bullying and cruelty I get from other girls who were supposed to be my peers is hurtful. I feel left behind and I don't fit in with the boys or the girls. I am constantly made to feel like an alien in my own skin and the other girls use their femininity as a weapon to hit me with. they giggle and laugh behind my back because I don't wear enough makeup or wax my eyebrows. they invite me to sit with them so they can subtly mock me. they make jokes about me and my friends behind my back and call me a dyke because I've worn the same cargo pants for three days in a row. because of all this and because I'm 13, I think the problem is femininity and it's going to turn into bitterness for anything 'girly' that I am not"

and yes obviously the patriarchy was hurting the "other girls" too. we realized that. every single "not like other girls" kid I've met as an adult has realized that and apologized for it and changed even if they aren't women anymore.

but you know what I've never seen? I've never seen the "other girls" as adults apologize even once for the cruelty and bullying and shaming they put gnc kids through. not one time. what I do see them doing is still being cruel to us and accepting our apologies and saying good, we deserved it, glad we grew up and realized how much better being feminine is

[imfinereallyy]

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

Steve sighs, and he looks at Eddie in his doorway. So much has changed in five years. But Eddie seems the same. Just his hair is a bit longer, he’s got more tattoos, and he’s got scruff on his face that Steve knows when they saw each other last in 87’ would have driven him nuts.

Steve has always liked the idea of Eddie with a beard. It doesn’t matter now, though. “I think you should leave.”

“Steve, I—I just need a chance to explain.” Eddie moves side to side on his feet.

“Explain?” Steve scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest. “You had the chance to explain five years ago before you left. You had the chance to explain the weeks after with no phone calls to me to any of the kids. You had the chance to explain the year after when you talked to everyone but me, and I thought you just needed time. You had the chance a year ago before you cut everyone else off again.”

Eddie hangs his head in shame. “Stevie, please. I know I don’t deserve it. But I just want to talk.”

Steve’s resistance wavers slightly. He moves out of the doorway to let Eddie in. Eddie rushes inside, knowing Steve will change his mind at any moment. Steve shuts the door behind them. “I’m only letting you in because if Robin finds you in our doorway, she will kick your ass. And as much as you hurt me, I don’t actually want to see you in physical pain.”

Eddie smiles a bit, “Still the dynamic duo? You and Robbie? What’s stopping her from beating me up inside?”

“Our cat Sylvia might see. And she’s trying to shield her from as much violence as possible. Says one Sylvia has seen enough.”

“Oh please tell me she is out by now, because that is a giant gay flashing sign.” Eddie chuckles.

Steve can’t help but laugh a little, “Yes, she is. It would be hard if she weren’t, considering she’s dating Nancy. And Nancy is a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. She shows her off any chance she gets.”

“Wow, Robs bagged Wheeler? Never saw that coming.” Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Must have been a blow to the ego for ya, Stevie. Your ex and your best friend.” He mock clutches his heart.

Steve lets out a big laugh this time, “Nah. I encouraged it. They’re my favorite people; they deserve to be happy.”

Eddie softens, “Yea, being a favorite person of Steve Harrington is a very special thing.”

Steve feels ice water in his veins, “What are you doing here Eddie?”

Eddie sighs, “What do you want to hear? Why I needed to come, or why I wanted to? Cause the truth is I needed to come to apologize to you. Give you the explanation you deserve. What I wanted, though, what I wanted is to tell you that I love—“

“Don’t.” Steve chokes.

“Right apologies first.”

“First? First?! Eddie. I don’t know what you could say to me right now that would make anything make sense. We had something good. It took us so long to get to that point. And it was great because we learned about each other and knew each other inside out. Our friendship blossomed into something more, and we were just getting started, and you left. I had thought I was done with love before I met you. But then you came along and made me feel seen and cared for, and then you got weird and distant so quickly, and you fucking left. And then I knew for sure I was done with love. Don’t think it was meant for me. Sure, that’s not on you, but you don’t get to—you don’t get to open old wounds because you feel the sudden desire to come around again.” Steve swallows tears.

Eddie’s face goes through hundreds of emotions. Anger. Shock. Grief. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. They stew in Steve’s words instead. Then finally, Eddie settles on. “I’m an addict.”

Steve, who has thought about a million ways this could go, has never thought of this. “What?” All the tension releases from his body. He just stares hopelessly at Eddie.

“I’m an addict. I'm sober now, I just reached a year, but yeah. I'm an addict. Never thought I would be. But after everything with Vecna and the painkillers they put me on…it got hard. Denied it for a while. Said to myself a little of everything here and there to forget wouldn’t hurt anyone. But then we were becoming something alongside, me spiraling deeper into addiction. And I—fuck this was easier to practice at the meetings.” Eddie runs his hands through his hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But I would have hurt you. More than me leaving did. And I couldn’t live with that. I could live with you hating me. It was selfish of me. I wasn’t ready to give up the drugs so I gave up you, and it’s not fair. Not fair that I did that to you, to anyone of you really, but especially you Steve. You just deserved someone who could love you all the time, love you fully. And I thought I did but I think I was using you a little to make myself feel better. That’s not to say I didn’t love you. I did, still do, always will. But we both deserved a better version than what we had.”

Steve feels tears on his cheeks, he isn’t sure what to say. “You didn’t get to make that decision for me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Steve chokes on a sob, “Dammit Eddie. It was my birthday.”

Something breaks inside them, and suddenly they are in each other's arms, weeping together. There is this fragile broken thing between them, a love that never went away. It is horrible and beautiful and needs so much work to be wonderful once more.

But it was nice to break together again.

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I’ll make sure every day for the rest of my life that I make it up to you. In any way I can.”

“I don’t know how we can get back Eds. Don’t know if we should.”

“I’ll take you any way you’ll have me. Friend. Lover. A person you only call when you need a ride to the airport. Just let me try; it’s all I ask. I promised I wouldn’t go back to you until I knew I had put the work into myself first. You don’t owe me anything. I would understand if you kicked me out right now. But I need you to know that Steve, I love you anyway you’ll have me. And I have never stopped thinking about you.”

Steve lifted his head from Eddie’s chest. “I’d like to try to get to know you again. This you. See where it goes. But Eds, no matter what, no matter the version of you, I will always care. And I will always be your friend.”

Eddie kisses Steve’s forehead, “Thank you.”

It’s there where Steve and Eddie hug on the wooden apartment floor; they hear the door unlock. “Oh no, she’s home early.”

Eddie doesn’t get to respond because, suddenly, Robin is in the doorway. “Hey, dingus! I brought home an extra latte—“

She freezes at the sight of Eddie before rebooting with a dark look, “Steve, is your nail bat still under your bed?”

——

Wanted to try the whole break up thing, I have a lot of different break up/makeup ideas in my head. maybe pt. 2???? Kinda feels good to stop here. But if you think so I have more ideas for this.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

The best moments in the revolution (in your opinion)?

Desmoulins and Robespierre basically breaking up because the former used Rousseau against the latter in public after just having been mocked for his journal by him:

Robespierre: …I end by asking that [Desmoulins’] numbers be treated like the aristocrats who buy them, with the contempt that profanity deserves. I propose to the Society to burn them in the middle of the room (There is applause several times; Robespierre's speech was interrupted by applause and bursts of laughter).

Desmoulins: That's very well said, Robespierre, but I'll answer you like Rousseau: "To burn is not to answer."

Robespierre: How dare you still want to justify works that delight the aristocracy? Learn, Camille, that if you were not Camille, one could not have so much indulgence for you. 

Pétion spending an excessive amount of ink insisting he did not get hard from sleeping in the same room as two stranger women while on the run from the authorities after the Insurrection of May 31 in his memoirs. Like, thanks for specifying Jérôme, but I never really thought that was a climate where such feelings grow in the first place…

There were two beds without curtains, two very dark little closets serving as wardrobes, a window overlooking the street, a small fireplace, and two or three chairs. So here I am, alone in a room with two young persons of interesting countenance, undressing myself, going to bed before them; then they get undressed and go to bed before me. I felt, I confess, these embarrassments of decency, which they no doubt felt even more than I did. But it was easy to see how much the generous action which they knew removed from their souls those ideas which might have troubled them. They did not even make any of those reflections which bring out the delicacy of the circumstance. I need not say that I did not allow myself any of these remarks, any of these jokes which could frighten the most severe modesty. I even confess that I experienced none of these sensations, none of these desires so natural that they are involuntary in the man whom nature has made truly man. I would have shamed myself if I had been tempted to abuse this touching hospitality. I was a brother with sisters.

Charlotte Robespierre arranging a meeting between Maurice Gaillard and Couthon so the former can plead for clemency for some people, eavesdropping to their entire conversation, throwing herself upon Couthon and holding him still once he (supposedly) makes a move to call for his body guards to arrest Gaillard, gets Gaillard to escape, makes Couthon ashamed over having attempted to ”immolate a friend that I had brought to his house,” goes and finds Gaillard and remains completely cool when he loudly asks her what the f she thought she was doing, answering that he would have been executed had she not intervened, that Couthon was only trying to deceive him and finally that he ought to flee Paris, something which Gaillard also agrees to do. Then years after the fact Gaillard recounts and records this anecdote for his BFF Fouché, only in this version, Charlotte’s identity is for some reason kept a secret and she’s only described as ”a lady.” Coincidence much…?

Camille getting smacked in the face with his latest number of Révolutions de France et de Brabant by a bookstore clerk, responding by saying he has a gun and could blow his offenders brain’s out, but simply opting for hitting him once with his cane.

Saint-Just playing with a rifle, accidentally firing a shot that almost kills his fellow representative on mission and then throwing himself in the guy’s arms in shock.

Robespierre being hypocrite 101 by expelling a member from the jacobins with the motivation: ”Brichet talks to you about this faction, but he does not name the individuals, he does not designate the traitors who must be punished. When revenge is demanded against representatives who are not named, the whole Convention believes itself threatened and exposed to great misfortunes. So the real traitors are those who put forward such motions.” Should have really taken your own advice there four months later, Max…

Louise de Kéralio-Robert exclaiming she will stab Danton if her husband doesn’t survive the Insurrection of August 10, alarming Lucile Desmoulins to the extent she keeps an eye on her for the entire rest of the night, a reaction that becomes much more understandable once you realize Louise had actually threatened three men harassing her with a knife just a week earlier…  

The fact that a pamphlet with the name ”Conspiracy formed from 5 préréal [sic] by nine representatives of the people against Maximilien Robespierre, to stab him in the middle of the senate”exists.

Camille and Marat spending several pages of their public newspapers arguing because Camille got a word misprinted (”apostate” instead of ”apostolate”)

Not really the revolution, but all the times Napoleon is recorded to have lamented the fact he did not have Fouché executed.

The fact both Fouché and Robespierre seemingly each courted a girl and then contributed to getting two of her family members executed.

Françoise Hébert telling her accusers that she ”has never known her husband to be a conspirator, if he was he would have died by her hand,” during her trial.

Collot d’Herbois trying to defenestrate Robespierre, failing, and immediately trying to hug him as an apology.

[stackslip]

what if you are a victim of sexual violence and you do feel forever damaged and angry though? what if you do feel that your perpetrators are evil?

so first of all, anon, i get you. your emotions and feelings about this are your own, and i'm not saying that they are fake or wrong. you're not a bad person for hating your abusers, and you're not wrong/bad for feeling damaged and angry. what i will gently push back on is that these are your feelings--i don't know your situation, past or current, and even if i did i still wouldn't be in a position to judge how you react to traumatic events. these are your own, nobody can take them away from you. what i am trying to say is, sexual violence does not have a specific essence different from other forms of violence that irredeemably damages its victims. rather, societal insistence that sexual violence is a black mark upon its victims, and a system made to fuck over victims of abuse and violence of any kind, leaving them little space or material resources to be able to heal in peace, leave many survivors barely able to stay afloat. it is normal to feel damaged when 1) you are told constantly that the thing that was done to you makes you lesser than, that it is your fault, and that you should not be able to talk about it or obtain any closure from it 2) for many survivors, ever since the violence occurred, they've been struggling with poverty, with being mocked and going through further abuse, with having very little space or material/emotional support to process and heal the pain they've been through, which compounds the feeling of being irreperably damaged. support of survivors *is* crucial to me. you should be able to leave your abuser and be in a space far away from them, to feel safe, to not have to worry about your material needs as your grieve and heal, to not being reinforced that you are broken beyond repair.

as for the question of your perpetrators, i'm not asking you to forgive and move on. again i do not know the context of what happened to you, but even then i cannot force you to feel anything, and forcing survivors in absolving their abusers in order to feel better does not do much. you cannot be forced to not hate somebody who's done harm to you! what i will try to push back on, though, is the notion that anybody is ontologically evil, and that figuring out who belongs in a class of ontologically evil people in order to wipe them out because they are Bad People Who Do Bad Things is not ultimately helpful as a whole. i'm not saying "if you killed your rapist you'd feel worse" bc that might not be the case. i'm saying that as a whole, a society that designates a group of people as irredeemably evil, and whose understanding of sexual violence is that it is done by Bad People Only who deserve to be lined up and shot, is not actually a society that reduces rates of sexual violence, or has the best interests of survivors at heart. you're allowed to hate your rapists and see them a certain way. but if you are told that the solution is to Kill All Rapists, that this will heal you and others and reduce the risks of sexual violence, the problem is that that just isn't true! if anything, it might make some survivors and perpetrators' families and friends even less likely to want to talk abotu sexual violence, because they have complicated feelings towards their perpetrators or materially depend on them. a society where people take matters into their own hands means even more silence around rape and sexual violence, and more shame around the victim. furthermore, it treats Being A Rapist as something people are born with, an innate evil, rather than the result of societal and economic forces, which then does nothing to actually prevent rape and sexual violence.

your feelings on the things that happened to you and the people who did this to you are real and valid. i am not judging them and nobody should judge you either. you cannot actually force yourself to love someone as yourself or to forgive, especially when you have been given no justice or healing. but also, while your feelings are your own, i will plead to you that using these feelings as justification to push for a worse world is not helpful to you or any other survivor. there are people on here and out there who will use what happened to you to try to convince you of a simple solution, one that they claim is helpful to survivors as they allow them to get justice in their own hands. but that is a lie. they are using your pain, your very real suffering, to obsfucate the real forces behind sexual violence and violence of any kind. they will often make you feel worse--not because revenge is morally bad, but because the idea that you are now irrevocably broken and damaged and that the only thing that can bring you a semblance of satisfaction is seeing all Rapists TM murdered is harmful to you too. it will not help you heal or make the world a better place for other or potential victims of sexual violence. it is a tool that people want to use in order to use it against more vulnerable people, who are seen as disposable and inherently predatory. it will not save you or others. so i am not urging you to forgive, or to magically heal from something traumatic. instead, i'm asking you to be kinder to yourself, to realize that while healing might not be in reach for everyone, including you, that it is because you were failed--not because sexual violence has inevitably broken you and soiled you. i'm asking you to not choose to support people who do not have your interests as a survivor in mind, but instead seek an easy solution with easily designated Bad People. i'm asking you to be kinder to yourself through both these things.

i hope this answer clarifies things somewhat. i wish you well. if you want to talk further about this in private, please feel free to dm me. i do not have all the solutions or the combination for a perfect world free of sexual violence, but i think there are paths to reducing said violence and making things better for survivors. sending you love.

[bajistadiamond]

Yuu and the Magical Power of Songs

Yuu Singer, Pomefiore (Rainbow Connection)

Yuu didn't know how to feel about the VDC/SDC result.

His friends had worked hard during practice, Epel greatly overcame his problems with Vil and managed to bring back the Pomefiore prefect after his OverBlot. Yuu believed that they would win.

But no, he had to win the Royal Sword Academy and ruin the happiness of the boys.

He had nothing against the RSA; he only knew a handful of that school, and he could only tell that his opinion of them was neutral.

The white-haired young man wished he could have participated, but the rules of the event prohibited any being with "the voice of the gods" from participating.

Schoenheit even told him that it was a shame he wasn't a member of the group as a singer, but he understood that the rule made the contest fairer.

Fortunately for Yuu, Crowley told him to do a solo show to close out the VDC/SDC.

Yuu agreed at that moment, he already had better control of his power and was excited to show it on TV…. Although he was regretting it a bit now, he was very nervous.

"Roi des chanteurs, what is the nervousness?". Rook asked Yuu. "Your gift for singing is exceptionnel." Said the hunter in a breath. "Rook is right! You have an incredible voice." Kalim exclaimed, Jamil next to him assented to that statement. "It's true Yuu. I really don't understand this silly fear, you've already sung in front of several people. Relax silly~". Said Ace with a somewhat mocking expression. Deuce hit him on the back of the neck. "Ace, don't tease." "Nya… the guys are right witty, trust your magic." Grimm told him.

Yuu smiled a little. "It's not that I don't trust my gift, the problem is that…" Yuu didn't even know what the problem was. Vil on the other hand did know. "Yuu, look at me." Yuu looked at the undisputed king of the beauty dorm. "You have a unique gift in singing and dancing, and I can tell you with complete sincerity that you are someone I aspire to be." He finished saying Schoenheit with a smile.

Everyone was shocked by that statement. Vil knew that reaction would occur, but he wasn't lying; Yuu would be the only one he would look up to and admit he was envious of him.

"Don't cry, you'll ruin the makeup." I scolded Vile at Yuu seeing the tears in his eyes. Yuu nodded determinedly. "Thank you, thank you everyone."

Everyone hugged Yuu; the young prefect couldn't feel happier. "Break yourself a leg buddy." Epel said.

That's when he decided that he would show the RSA what he was made of.

The NRC students were upset and saddened by the result. It seemed like either the universe hated them or the institution was cursed because they never won against the RSA.

Meanwhile the RSA students present were happy, they won. Some thought their rivals deserved to win and others felt smug to be able to rub their rivals in the face with another victory.

Everyone in the arena had their opinions, but they had to admit that it was a very close VDC/SDC. As they were about to leave to enjoy the tents set up on campus, Dire Crowley took the stage.

"Good afternoon everyone". He greeted the director of NRC. This confused many because they thought the event was over. The cameramen began filming again assuming that something juicy was coming due to the rivalry between the RSA and NRC. "This year's VDC has been unique in my opinion, but I feel like it's missing something to make it great and worth remembering." Dire was enjoying everyone's confusion. Yuu's performance had been a matter that had been discussed with the educational board and the event organizers to be kept strictly secret until the public chose the winner of the VDC. "I have the pleasure and honor to present to you a young man with a gift few possess… the voice of the gods." The public was shocked. Those of the RSA even more so, those who possessed the "voice of the gods" were usually invited to join their institution. There has never been one to sign up with the NRC until now. "Give a big round of applause to Yuu Ross!" Dire exclaimed before disappearing from the stage with a snap of her fingers. He appeared behind Yuu before he went to the stage. "Show them the greatness of Night Raven College." Yuu winked and left…

The audience erupted in applause when they saw a young man with dark skin, white hair and green eyes; He wore a black shirt under a turquoise floral-patterned vest, tight black pants, turquoise thick-heeled boots, and a gold crown with gem-studded flowers. In his hand was a wooden banjo.

Yuu put his nervousness aside, everything would be fine. He glanced at Malleus, who was watching him closely. He had to talk after this because of the revelations from a few hours ago, but nothing that changed their friendship. Malleus looked visibly more relaxed when Yuu sent him a smile; there were no recons.

Yuu took a deep breath and began to play the banjo…

~Why are there so many songs about rainbows~ ~And what's on the other side?~ ~Rainbows are visions, but only illusions~ ~And rainbows have nothing to hide~

The magic worked almost instantly; the stage floor was transformed into a beautiful green grass filled with wildflowers, the pillars were filled with vines and white roses, and the screens flickered with static until they showed videos of crystal clear lakes. At the Royal Sword Academy they were speechless when they saw a fairy tale prince who was somehow from NRC and not theirs… a feeling they didn't know began to fill the hearts of the most pampered and pretentious.

Yuu looked at Vil, who was watching with the other team members to the side of the stage. With a wave of his hand, he told him to come closer; Vil looked at him and could only see a phrase engraved in those green eyes. "It's time for you to go all the way, like one of the heroes." Pomefiore's guardian walked slowly as he followed Yuu's chant.

~So we've been told, and some choose to believe it~ Vile sang.

~I know they're wrong, wait and see~ Yuu sang to him.

The Ramshackle and Pomefiore prefects looked at each other, ready to show that even if they lost the VDC they would not surrender to anything and anyone.

~Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection~ ~The lovers, the dreamers, and me~

Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Epel and Rook smiled knowingly before going to the stage. Jamil wasn't so sure until he felt a push on his foot. It was Grim. "Go silly!" He growled at the little monster. Jamil snorted before following the others with a smile. For the first time in its history, the NRC felt peace, the grudge against their rival school forgotten as they listened to a song so unique that it reminded them that they had not reached the end of the road yet.

~Who said that every wish would be heard and answered~ ~When wished on the morning star? ~ ~Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it~ ~Look what it's done so far~

Cater couldn't resist the urge and without anyone noticing he ran to the stage, he was going to give a touch with his guitar. Lilia also had the same idea, but he would go a little later and felt that it was not yet the time to include the sound of the drums.

~What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing~ ~And what do we think we might see? ~ ~Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection~ ~The lovers, the dreamers, and me~

Ambrose 63 was speechless. He never thought he would live to see the NRC students unite, putting aside the differences between his dormitories.

~All of us under its spell~ ~We know that it's probably magic~

"Your friend is certainly unique." He told Che'nya to Trey and Riddle. They nodded before beginning to clap to the rhythm of the song. Leona, who was somehow holding back tears, couldn't help but hug Ruggie around him shoulders. The hyena beastman returned the hug, also holding back tears. Jack for the first time didn't care that they saw his feelings and he shed tears at the moving meaning of the song.

Yuu's magic caused all of the NRC students to start chanting. They were aware of this and didn't care.

~Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices? ~ ~I've heard them calling my name~

Neige was touched. He had the idea that his group and the NRC group would sing together to show unity, but this surprise performance was a thousand times better. "After so many years, you're finally you again." He thought seeing Vil so relaxed and carefree; He met that Vil, at an autograph signing and it was that meeting that motivated him to enter the world of acting. Although when the black haired one achieved his goal, the Vil he knew was gone. And now he was back. "Thank you Yuu-kun." He whispered before hugging his friends.

The most empathetic of the RSA smiled in amazement to see the NRC sing in perfect harmony thanks to Yuu's magical gift. "Maybe this was what they needed to make them better." Neige's fellow dwarves thought.

~Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? ~ ~The voice might be one and the same~

Cater arrived backstage a bit shaken, but ready for the song's climax. When Lilia felt Cater's presence behind the scenes, he looked at Malleus and seeing him happy with the show, he disappeared from her seat. Silver looked at the empty place of the old one of him-that is, Lilia, she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

~I've heard it too many times to ignore it~

When Lilia suddenly appeared sitting on the drum kit, Cater's heart nearly stopped in shock. "Wh-what." "fufufu~ No time, ready?" the fae asked his friend. Cater smiled with his acoustic guitar ready. "Always". And they started playing to Yuu's delight.

~It's something that I'm supposed to be~

Dire Crowley couldn't be more proud of his students. Yuu had achieved something that in his years as an educator he had not been able to do … unite all of Night Raven College and give them the strength not to give up.

~Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection~~The lovers, the dreamers, and me~

A beautiful rainbow formed over the arch of the stage and the sky turned various shades of orange and red, making for a perfect sunset.

~ La-da-da-de-da-da-do ~ ~ La-da-da-da-da-de-da-do ~

The audience gave a standing ovation and applauded for such a fantastic end to the event. The NRC in its entirety, from students and teachers were made a sea of tears, even the most sullen. From his room, Idia Shroud hugged his little brother. "It was a nice song right nii-san." "Yes Ortho, yes it was." He said her feeling happiness and sadness for the song.

Vil looked at Yuu and when Yuu felt his gaze, he looked straight into his eyes. "Thank you, fellow prefect." Yuu smiled. "You're welcome Schoenheit-senpai." Yuu looked back at the audience. "Thank you all! It only remains for me to say, congratulations to the Royal Sword Academy." He said nodding to Neige. "As for the NRC…" he paused dramatically. "Remember there is still a long way to go, a round of applause to our representatives in this edition of the VDC for such a great effort." NRC students delivered; those in the group held hands and bowed to the audience.

The overbearing and pampered of the RSA finally realized what they felt… envy and fear. Envy because they had such an incredible person and fear because it seemed that said person held them together to the point that they could achieve anything, maybe beat them in their next competition...

In a small bar near the borders of Shaftlands, a old man was shocked by what he saw on television. The old man was fair-skinned, with violet-almost black iris eyes, black hair with gray almost hidden by a wool cap and wearing thick clothing due to the cold of the region. "Friend?". Asked a bartender behind the bar. "Y-yes? Sorry I was surprised by the show." The old man said, feigning emotion. "I imagine, Night Raven College really outdid itself." The waitress said before handing the man a bag. "That's 15 thaumarks/madols." The old man looked into the waitress's eyes and using his unique magic made her believe that she had already paid her. "Thanks for the food dear." The old man said before leaving. The waitress nodded a bit dazedly. The man walked along a path in the woods while he was thinking.

"Damn Nabila, and I thought you had died without giving birth." Thought the old man. Yuu Ross was the spitting image of the woman he married and lost his kingdom to. "So… Yuu, interesting name for my descendant." He whispered with a mischievous smile. "He will be mine and with his gift, my kingdom will rise again". In his hand, green magic sizzled in his hands. "Speciosus, formosus, praeclarus!". The instant he recited the incantation, his appearance changed. He was now a young man of 16, thin, with effeminate facial features and vibrant ebony hair. "It's time to go back to school." He said with a mischievous chuckle.

[nifolution]

You Loved Me Once

Pairing: Jake Jensen / Plus-size Reader

Summary: It couldn't be gone. Somewhere deep inside him, he remembered their love. He had to.

Warnings: fluff, angst, feels, humor, mentions of naughty times with food, injuries, car accident due to explosion, mention of guns and being shot and stabbed, concussion, memory loss, fat shaming, heartbreak, breakup, enemies to lovers to strangers

A/N: Takes place roughly 5 years after the movie. This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Jake Jensen tiptoed behind his niece, holding a finger to his lips to keep her friends mum about his presence. Carefully dropping a card into the hood of her zombie sweatshirt, he scampered away. The birthday girl would notice soon enough. And if not, her friends would point it out. The eighth graders well onto the sneaky uncle’s game.

Hannah was old enough that she preferred picking out her own things, but Jake hated the idea of just handing her a gift card. So he bought several for her favorite places; the ice cream parlor, the sporting goods store so she could get new cleats, the movies and so on. Throughout the party, Jake would stick a gift card in his niece's hoodie without her knowledge. The first was placed when he hugged her and wished her a happy birthday. Once discovered, he would find an opportunity to put in another.

Groaning, Stephanie plopped herself down, joining the table of chit-chatting adults. “You're a great uncle, but why did you have to convince her to have a zombie birthday?” She pointed an accusing finger at Jake, “Do you know how difficult it was to make a brain cake that oozes fake blood?”

“What? Christmas in July, zombies in June, not to mention 13 is an evil-evil number, made perfect sense to me.” He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hannah found the gift card, pursing her lips in mock annoyance as she pocketed it. “Besides, Angel here deserves half the credit.”

Y/N scoffed, “Don’t throw me under the bus. Your sister knows this was all you.”

In reality they both had an obsession with the genre. The couple loved watching monster movies together. Gotten into more than one heated debate over who could defeat whom. Each of them had their favorite creature army and strategies. And although dead and undead things didn't technically qualify, it fell under a similar umbrella.

“Party’s almost over. Any exciting plans after this?”

“Hannah is spending the night at her best friend’s house. So I plan to finish a bottle of wine, and the rest of that cake, while I watch my show and pass out. Then tomorrow, she has to be back by noon, to start her project on ‘armadillos and their impact on the environment.’ Don’t forget, Jake, you promised to help her research for the report and make a diorama.”

“Ooh, I can help too. I know lots of armadillo facts. They’re insectivores… they love to swim… give birth to identical quadruplets, and their armor is tougher than a 9mm.”

Jake threw his arm around his girlfriend, “My Angel is so helpful.” As he spoke, his niece walked by with her overnight bag. He quickly placed another card into her hood without missing a beat. “I can’t wait to get you home, watch Godzilla kick some Ghidorah butt. Maybe have my favorite snack, a little taste of the rainbow,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stephanie cringed at the suggestive tone, “Eww, I don't even want to know.”

Hannah began to put on her shoes to leave, finding another gift card inside the left one. “UNCLE J!”

Looking as smug as ever, Jake grabbed Y/N’s hand, announcing that was their cue to leave.

---------------

The day Clay introduced Y/N to the team, Jake didn’t take too kindly to her. Giving any reason he could think of as to why The Losers didn’t need a sixth member. Determined to prove her untrustworthy and unnecessary, he drilled her about the drones she makes and her qualifications, trying to catch her in a lie.

He didn't find one, and Clay insisted that she would be an asset. While the rest of the unit was in the field, Y/N would be at home, providing remote support. So Jensen could focus on staying alive instead of his computer. It didn't stop him from feeling like he was being replaced. He was the tech guy, why did they need her?

"Just so we're clear, Y/N, if that is your real name, I am hacker A and you are hacker B. I was here first and I'm not going anywhere."

After the first operation she more than proved her usefulness. Research, logistics, hacking, navigation, and drone assistance. Her drones gave them a bird's eye view, cameras, surveillance, real time topography, thermal imaging, warning systems, an extra set of guns and more.

It was impossible to deny she knew what she was doing. They only walked away in one piece because of her. But it wasn’t until Jake was making his usual attempt at humor mentioned battling kaiju, that the most beautiful sound graced his earpiece. Y/N was laughing, she understood the joke. She then told him a real kaiju would stomp him into monster toe jam, giving Jake a fit of clamorous snorting and wheezing.

“Careful there, Jakey, I don’t want to have to call the paramedics because you passed out.”

He heard the smile in her voice, he couldn’t get enough. “I changed my mind. You are now hacker A. A for Angel.”

Everything changed after that day. Jake flirted with her constantly on comms, much to his teammates' chagrin. His nonsensical banter was now mostly aimed to amuse her. He loved hearing her heavenly voice in his ear. Willing to do whatever it took to make her laugh. The more time he spent speaking with her, the harder he fell. There was an undeniable connection between them.

"So my beautiful Angel, keeping an eye on us from high above, when will you grace me with a date?" Jake had asked before and she had let him down gently. He had to try one more time, even if it led to another rejection.

"I told you, I don't date coworkers. Not even reeeaaally cute ones," she whined. Once again regretting the no.

"I know, but we're more like… long distance coworkers." He smiled to himself, lowering his voice to what he considered a sexy tone, "We work oceans apart so we can be skin to supple naked skin at home… and occasionally other locations. So it's not really breaking your rule."

Y/N giggled, "How can I say no when you put it like that."

"Soooo that's a yes?"

She couldn't help but give in to his dorky charm. "Yes, you can take me out when you're stateside. We'll see where this goes."

"Oh it's going. It's going so far you won't know where the hell we are. Just me and you, lost with nothing but a flashlight and our body heat to keep us warm."

There it was again, his favorite sound.

Four years later Jake still makes inappropriate comments over comms. Their relationship remained strong. Their love and devotion never wavering. Y/N didn't know Jake had been hunting for the perfect ring and planning a big proposal. He wanted to get it just right, his Angel deserved no less.

---------------

“Let's get it oooonnnn.

Let's love, baby.

Let's get it oooonnnn, suGAR.

Let's get it oooonnnn, woo hooooooooo.”

An hour and a half outside one of Sri Lanka’s capitals, the roar of a large truck speeding down a dirt road, was accompanied by very offkey, shrill singing.

Pooch gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his head briefly to yell at the offending teammate, “Shut up Jensen. You sound like a cat being skinned alive.”

The criticism didn’t bother Jake at all. “Don't be a party pooper, Linwood, I’m serenading my love.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling to herself. “You can sing to me later Jakey. Give the guys ears a break.”

“My gorgeous sexy Angel, when I return, I want to run a hot bubble bath for us. I need to feel those pretty nails scratch down my back. Then I’ll order sushi so you eat it off my naked body. This may or may not be followed by an equally sexy shower.”

"Clay, if I have to listen to this much longer, I'm gonna stab him." Aisha had enough. His lovesick screeching needed to be stopped.

Jake grinned ear to ear, placing his hands behind his head, "What can I say, she loves the angle of my dangle.”

“Okay, The Pooch does not need to hear about the weird Klingon sex or whatever you two are having.”

“Ooh Angel, HIja' bangwI' Ha'.”

"That’s enough,” Clay snapped. “Stop giving them new kinks and focus. The compound is eight klicks ahead. So unless you want to die today, zip it."

“You got it boss. Playtime’s over.” Jake’s voice became gruff and ominous, “Their evil lair looms in the distance. We must prepare our shields and sharpen our silver swords.”

“They aren’t werewolves... I don’t think.” Checking that her drones were in place and out of sight, Y/N cleared her throat, “Alright, it looks like the first set of guards are stationed in an armored vehicle outside the northwest entrance. All clear beyond that gate as of now.”

Clay nodded, “Copy that.”

“Come home to me safe Jakey.”

“Always my Angel. Love you.”

“Love you.”

---------------

All targets were eliminated, the team was on their way back to the hotel, the coast should have been clear. The explosion shocked everyone when an IED detonated under their truck. Four crawled out of the wreckage. The fifth was trapped inside, unconscious and unresponsive.

To say Y/N was drowning in guilt would be an understatement. She blamed herself for the accident. For logging off when she did. She wasn't watching out for them when they needed her. She should have monitored the vehicle better. It could have been prevented had she been more diligent. This was her fault. She would never forgive herself.

Clay knew the call would be a disaster. Weeping women made him uneasy. “I am the one that declared the mission complete. If you’re going to blame someone, blame me... No, do not fly out here. It could raise too many red flags and make the situation dangerous for us. Aisha already had to slip out of the country to avoid detection. Sit tight. I will call you when he wakes up… Jensen’s a fighter, Y/N, he will pull through.”

It would be three days of crying and worrying herself sick before she would hear from her team again. Clay called with good news; Jensen was awake.

“He’s okay. Like the rest of us, he has some superficial cuts and deep bruising. He has a concussion, so they want to keep him a couple more days for observation. Then we're heading home.”

Y/N could breathe again. “Please, let me talk to him.”

“That wouldn't be a good idea right now. Jensen is too agitated and confused due to um…” Clay exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face, “Well, the concussion seems to have caused post-traumatic amnesia.”

“Amnesia? You mean he can’t remember anything?”

“He remembers everything before 2010 without any problem, but everything after is a blur. He doesn't remember… you.”

“He doesn't know me anymore? I…That doesn’t… If this is a joke, it's not funny, Clay.” As mad as she would be, she prayed this was a bad prank of Jake’s. Hopelessly looking around, expecting him to be sneaking up on her to grab her.

“I wish it was. The doctors assure us it is temporary, but its duration is undetermined. Could be hours to months. Until then he needs to avoid stress and stimulation, let his head heal. We can calmly tell him things he forgot, but not try to force him to remember. It will come back on its own.”

Clay grimaced, “And it kills me to ask this, Y/N, but can you pack up some of his things? It would be better if Jensen stays with his sister, just until he’s more acquainted with you. He would undoubtedly be more comfortable somewhere familiar with someone he’s known his whole life.”

There was no response. If it weren't for her breathing, Clay would have thought the line disconnected. “Y/N?” he tried again. “I know it’s a lot, hun, but you guys will get through this. Jensen will be better in no time. I’ll keep you updated.”

Y/N’s voice cracked as she softly answered, “O-okay.”

---------------

Jake had a killer migraine. The more he tried to think, the worse it got. Waking up in a different year will do that to a person. He wished it was because of something cool, like time travel or being kidnapped by aliens that zapped his brain, but no, it was just a car accident. An occupational hazard that caused him to lose the last five years of his life.

It felt like being trapped in the twilight zone. Everything was different. His team did their best to fill him in on what he was missing. He had to be told of their set up and life as fugitives. Of Roque's betrayal and death. How they were cleared and given honorable discharges, but let the ties remain cut. They were their own unit now, with Clay still leading. It made Jake happy that hadn't changed, they still kicked ass together. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

The part that intrigued him the most was being told he had a long time girlfriend, Y/N. Whom he called Angel. The group did the best they could telling him about the love of his life. His phone was damaged in the accident, so he couldn’t see a photo. The rest of the team weren’t picture taking people, with the exception of Pooch, who had a million of his son. Crazy, that his friend was now a father.

He learned how they met, about their home, and things they liked to do together, like mini golf and road trips to comic cons. That he loved everything about her, often claiming he secretly made her in a lab, because she couldn't be more perfect for him. And Y/N felt the same about him. He’d give her the honor of wearing his pirate hat when he was away. The one he claimed can only be worn with undies. The Losers hated that they knew that detail, but Jensen liked to overshare. How he still begged her to create a drone that can grab him and carry him through the air like Superman.

Jake listened intently and was excited to meet the awesome mystery woman they spoke about.

---------------

He had been back for less than twenty four hours and his head was killing him. He hadn’t recognized his own niece, she had grown so. Hannah jumped into his arms when he walked in the door, and he didn’t know her. Jake saw the heartbreak on her and his sister’s faces when she told him who she was. He felt like shit. The years he misplaced, this damn brain injury, was hurting the people he loved most.

Someone decided to throw Jensen a welcome home dinner at Clay’s. It certainly wasn’t Clay. All of the Losers would be there, including Y/N. They hoped this night would trigger his memories, or at least make him comfortable enough to move back home with her. They convinced themselves that seeing his girlfriend again would make everything click back into place.

Jake anxiously awaited her arrival. Practically bouncing off the walls with nervous energy. Clay had told him more than once to sit his ass down and relax, but he found it impossible.

Having gotten a babysitter for the night, Pooch arrived with his wife Jolene, a few cases of beer and bottles of wine.

Cougar was the next to arrive, he thought it better to not bring a date for once, Jensen didn't need actual strangers around to confuse him further.

Aisha walked in shortly after. Jake’s face lit up as he ran over, “Holy smokes, you guys weren't kidding. She is definitely mine.” He attempted to put his arm around her waist, but she was faster, catching and twisting the limb until it nearly broke.

Clay walked over to separate them. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time he had to rescue Jensen from her for doing something stupid. “Not yours, mine.” At Aisha’s glare he clarified, “When she wants to be that is. Jensen, this is Aisha. Hands to yourself or she is likely to shoot you again.”

“AGAIN?!”

“Did we not tell you that?”

Shit, she was late. Y/N had stopped to pick up dinner and it took longer than expected. This was not the way she wanted to see her Jakey again. She wore the superheroes vs supervillains jacket he bought for her. Each side ran up a sleeve and collided in battle in the back. Hoping that the sight of her in it will jog his memory. Nervously bouncing her legs, she checked her appearance in the car mirror. Not everyday the love of your life meets you for a second time.

Y/N quietly entered the apartment, her eyes instantly locked onto Jake. He was having a conversation with Pooch and Cougar, laughing and carefree. She noticed the cuts and bruises on his face and arms, knowing there were more under his clothes. It took all her strength not to run over and kiss each one.

She stood awkwardly by the door with the bags of food in her hands, waiting. Jake turned his head and looked right at her. Holding her breath, Y/N searched for any spark of recognition in his eyes. He watched her quizzically, but gave no other reaction. Maybe she should have worn the droids shirt she had on when they first met.

Jake, seeing no one else moving to help, rose from his chair to assist. Giving an apologetic smile as he took the bags from her, “Sorry about that. Do we owe you anything?”

She blinked at him, “Huh?”

“I'm not sure who paid for the dinner,” he lifted the bags in question closer to eye level.

“Oh, I did. It was my turn.”

Jake stared blankly at her, before tilting his head, “So we know you?”

“Yes, I’m part of the team. I'm - I’m Y/N, your girlfriend.”

He threw his head back, “Ha! Very funny. Which one of them put you up to this?” Jake looked around the room for the culprit.

It felt like a snake winding around her heart. Why didn't he believe her? She looked at the group with worried eyes. This was getting uncomfortable for everyone. “No, it's not a joke. We’re together. We just had our fourth anniversary two months ago.”

“Oh,” Jake's eyebrows furrowed. He looked Y/N up and down, frowning. “Um, nice to meet ya. I guess.” Turning his back to her, he walked the food to the table. His splitting headache returned, thoughts swirling and unable to stick. He hated this.

Y/N didn't miss the pity in everyone’s eyes as she silently followed. She sniffed, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Her second first impression was turning out worse than the original.

During the meal, Jake sat in the chair next to her. His body tense, his smiles tight lipped and forced, unlike before. He avoided her gaze, scowling whenever Y/N tried to start a conversation. She made the mistake of touching his arm, and he recoiled. Her stomach was in knots, not understanding why he was reacting so harshly to her.

After everyone ate, Jake and the guys set up the poker table. He watched the women talking, growing bitter. As they brought over more drinks, he turned back to his friends, “This sucks. I deserve a hot babe like Aisha or Jolene. How'd I get stuck with the boring fat chick? Love of my life,” he scoffed, “I don't think so. Waste of my life maybe.”

Y/N froze in shock, her lip trembled. He couldn't have meant what he just said.

Pooch jumped to her defense, “Jensen what the hell, man? How could you say something like that? Amnesia or not, you’re never this rude and disrespectful. You may not remember right now, but Y/N is everything to you.”

“If you like her so much, why don't you date her,” he sneered.

”I have,” Clay retorted. “That’s how she came to work with us. Aisha and I were on a break and we dated. So I have first hand knowledge of how amazing she is.”

Jake’s voice filled with disdain, “Then why aren't you together? Perhaps it's because my first instincts about her were right. She can't be trusted and shouldn't be on this team.”

“Listen jackass, it’s because I decided to hire her. And you know I prefer my women a bit batshit crazy. She’s too sweet for me, but she’s perfect for you. You both have been smitten with each other from day one.”

Briefly turning to Y/N before refocusing on Clay, Jake shrugged, “I don't feel a damn thing when I look at her. Now that Aisha, she’s got parts of me stirring. Maybe I should steal her from you instead. Or have a different girl each night, like my man Cougar. Now that's the way to play it. Why tie myself to one woman, especially that one.”

There was an uproar from the group as Y/N sprinted to the bathroom, sobbing. Everyone began yelling at Jensen for his behavior. He fought back until his migraine got too severe. His vision blurred and he felt sick. Remembering his condition, the team felt guilty for the distress they caused. Cougar drove him back to his sister’s, while the women checked on Y/N.

Jolene rubbed Y/N’s back, trying to console her devastated friend. “You know his mouth is faster than his brain. He…”

“Talks out of his ass,” Aisha finished.

Jolene gave her a pointed look before continuing. “You two are amazing together. Just be patient, things will be better soon. This will all be like a bad dream before you know it.”

It was getting harder to breathe, the snake wound tighter and tighter. Y/N tried believing, but doubts and insecurities screamed in her head. And somehow the loudest was the one whispering, ‘You lost him and he's never coming back.’

---------------

Stephanie kept the team updated on Jake’s progress, or lack thereof. He spent the next two weeks hiding in her guestroom, sleeping or on his laptop, refusing to talk about what happened. In fact, he wasn’t speaking much to her or Hannah at all. Her brother’s silence was deeply concerning. To her memory, he’s never been quiet for more than ten minutes at a time. Hell, the man even talks in his sleep sometimes.

No one could imagine how hard this was for Y/N. They encouraged her to hold on just a little longer and her Jakey would be back to normal.

He doesn't mean it. You guys didn't hit it off the first time either. Keep trying.

You two need to spend more time together. You know he is crazy about you.

Sometimes brain injuries can lead to personality changes. This is temporary. The man loves you.

He will remember and come crawling to you with his tail between legs, begging for forgiveness.

He's not himself right now. He hasn't even been following how Hannah's soccer team is doing.

Give him another chance.

---------------

It was Tuesday night so the Losers went to their favorite hangout, Bar None, for half price drinks. Everyone was surprised when Jensen showed up in an Uber. Y/N did her best to greet him with warmth and a bright smile. For the next hour she tried talking with him, mentioning things from their life together and unsuccessfully keeping his eyes and attention on her.

Regrettably, he didn't give her the chance that she was trying to give him. Jake only looked at her with hatred in his eyes, making snide remarks. Her Jakey didn't have a mean bone in his body. He would get a bit aggravated with others when presented with something he forgot, but he was acting so cruelly toward Y/N. As if his subconscious was telling him she was his worst memory and protecting himself from her. It broke her heart more to think that may be true. She tried to hold her ground, but he was winning and his eyes were wandering.

Right now Jake was busy flirting with some redhead by the bar. The new him was surprisingly smooth. The woman responded to whatever he was saying with giggles and soft touches to his arm. After getting the chick’s number, he walked back to the booth like he won a trophy. He was met with a sea of disappointed and angry faces.

“What's wrong cougar, ya pissed I'm taking all your tail? The handsome cool laconic stranger act only goes so far pal. I'm on a roll tonight.”

Aisha’s fingers twitched, aching to grab her gun and shoot Jensen in the leg. “You’re pathetic. You are going to hate yourself when your memories are back. You’re royally fucking up here. The real Jake only has eyes for Y/N.”

Jake was sick of everyone telling him what he should feel. “Well, I'm not that Jake, I'm this Jake and this Jake doesn't want to go home with the ugly fat ass.” He looked at Y/N with disgust. Then raised his bottle in the redhead's direction, “I prefer to sample the riper fruit.”

The snake sunk its fangs in. Swallowing her hurt and humiliation, Y/N grabbed her purse and jacket, apologized to her teammates and headed out of the bar. Jake smiled at her retreat. ‘Good,’ he thought. His head felt better already.

Clay followed after his recruit, grabbing her arm before she got outside, “Don't go.”

“What's the point? Y/N screamed, her eyes watering. “You heard how he truly feels about me. We're clearly over.”

“He just doesn't remember.”

“And he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to know me. He wants nothing to do with me. What we had must have been some huge cosmic fluke. I have no other explanation for how he could stand to be with me.” She shook her head, arms falling limp at her sides.

“Y/N.” Clay clasped her shoulder, unable to find the words to comfort her.

“Don't Worry, I'll get my own fat ass home.”

Cougar was furious. Jensen was directing his confusion and ire toward the person he needed the most. Y/N did not deserve this. As his friend got up to get another beer, Cougar stood in his way.

Jake sidestepped, only to be blocked again. “What’s your problem, Cougar?” he snapped.

“How dare you… You haven't shut up about that woman since you met. She gets you. Does all that geeky nerd shit with you. I’ve never seen two people so sickeningly in love. If you let her go, you are the dumbest fucking asshole on this planet.”

Jake laughed, “Wow! Tell me how you really feel.”

Cougar’s teeth clenched, "Go. After. Her."

Sparing a glance as Y/N slipped out the door, his lip curled. “I can do better.”

---------------

Clay was hesitant to allow Jensen on the new assignment in Corpus Christi. Jake begged, stating boredom and that his sister was treating him like a child. “I know I've been grouchy, but I'm fine, really. It's not like we’re even leaving the country.”

The Losers were already down a member, Aisha having business elsewhere that took precedence. Even with Y/N’s drones, three men on the ground wasn’t enough. Clay acquiesced on the condition that Jensen would alert the team if he got dizzy, his headache worsened or things became too much.

Jake was acting like his typical talkative self, but the topic was one Y/N couldn’t bear to hear. She did her best to be professional and not to let her team hear her cry.

“What a night boys. What... a… night. I’m surprised I can still move. Yasmin, that redhead from the bar, more like yaaas ma’am. I was gladly on my knees for that insatiable little sex kitten. And get this, we stopped to grab some beer and I saw a bag of skittles. Light bulb! I had the brilliant idea to trail the wet candy on her skin and lick off flavors and she was dowwwnnn for it. She…”

Y/N ripped out her earpiece, clutching her stomach. She was going to throw up. That was their secret thing. Jake loved saying he wanted to ‘taste the rainbow’ in public and it meaning something kinky.

The snake consumed her heart whole. Their love was gone. The shared laughs, the kisses, the cuddles, the sex, the conversations were gone. Their precious and too little time together now only memories. He wasn't her Jakey anymore.

Her Jake made her feel special and beautiful. He showed her everyday that he loved her dearly. He would never do this to her, never treat her like this. He’d kick anyone's ass that made her feel less than. He never let her doubt herself, always knew how to make her laugh. Her sweet motormouthed goofball was gone. She didn’t recognize the man that took his place.

What were you supposed to do when your whole world shattered in front of you?

Y/N could not continue working with them. It was too hard. Staying would surely kill her. Angrily wiping at her eyes to clear her blurred vision, she took a series of deep breaths. The monitors needed to be watched properly. She could at least do that. She could keep the Losers safe one last time.

Putting her comm back in, she knowingly subjected herself to hearing Jensen spill more details about his wild night with that woman. Y/N stayed online until they were back inside the safehouse.

Getting out of the van, Jensen tried to convince the team to go out. “We’ll grab a little surf and turf. Then find a nightclub to drink, dance and mingle. Come on guys, let’s get this party started.”

Everyone adamantly refused.

“Then let's stay for another day and go swimming at the beach. I'm sure there’s an army of bikini clad hotties just waiting to be wooed by us manly men.” His friends looked at him with disapproval. “What, I'm horny.”

Clay knew she was still there, he stayed on as long as she did. Not saying a word until, “I'm so sorry, Y/N.”

---------------

Another Tuesday, another night at Bar None, only this time Y/N met the Losers to resign. She wanted to have a goodbye drink with her friends.

Pooch embraced her, “Don’t leave us. Don't leave him.” He was unaware that over his shoulder, she could see Jensen with his tongue down a brunette’s throat.

“I can't. I'm sorry, I can't.” She couldn’t stay and watch this again.

Aisha shook her head, she wasn’t a hugger and found the loss of her friend not something to celebrate.

“If you need a glowing recommendation, you know who to call.” Clay smiled, understanding she had to do what was best for her.

Y/N returned the gesture, “I already landed another job. I’ll be leaving the country in a few days.” She handed a business card to her former boss. “This is the real estate agent willing to sell the house. If you could give that to Jensen, or he can keep it. I don’t care.” She refused to cry again.

Cougar took Y/N’s hand, glaring at Jensen who was walking their way with his new conquest. He placed a lingering kiss on her hand, slipping her a small piece of paper in the process.

“I’m going to miss you Losers.” Y/N finished her beer and walked out of their lives.

Clay’s fists clenched, “Jensen, consider yourself suspended. Effective immediately.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, “Tsk, why? Because we lost a ton of dead weight. You should be thanking me.”

“Because you have proven the ‘new you’ cannot be trusted. You can return to duty when you're back to your old self… I need a team I can depend on and right now you are the farthest from that.”

“You’re serious?” Jensen dragged the brunette with him to find another booth. “Whatever, I don't need this shit.”

---------------

(3 weeks later)

Jake groaned, sleepily scooching closer to cuddle the warm body beside him. “Mmmm, my Angel.”

“Ooh baby, you ready for another round?”

Jumping at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, Jake scrambled out of the bed. He grabbed his gun and aimed it at the unknown woman. “Who the fuck are you? What did you do to my Angel?”

Her eyes grew as big as saucers, “I don't know who you're talking about, you goddamn psycho. We came here alone.”

Gun in hand, Jake began tearing through the apartment, searching for any evidence of Y/N.

“I'm calling the cops. Get out of my goddamn house,” she screamed, throwing his clothing at him.

Picking up his belongings, Jake yelled back, “I'm going, stop screaming.”

“Go fuck yourself, you fucking freak!”

Jake ran out holding his clothes, managing to get his boxers on as he fumbled down the stairs. Fishing his phone out of his pants, he dialed Y/N. Instead of his girlfriend’s voice, he heard ‘We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.’ ‘That can't be right.’

Once outside, he put his glasses on and looked around, not recognizing a thing. ‘Where the hell am I?’ He redialed. “Come on Angel, please.” He received the same message. 

A dark cloud of understanding enveloped him. ‘Oh God. What the fuck did I do?’ “You fucking idiot, what did you do?”

Jake trembled, “This can't be real. It's a nightmare. That's all it is.” He squeezed his eyes shut and began slapping his face. “Wake up you loser. Come on, wake up. WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

The sound of sirens approaching, and the sting of his cheeks proved a consciousness that he couldn’t accept. His eyes remained closed, “Please.”

The End

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all. I’d love to know your thoughts.

* Bad klingon: HIja' = yes, bangwI'= my love, Ha' = let’s go 

Sequel: Love Me Again

[jamethinks]

Retconning a bit here (you can't stop me) but I like think it was actually a good amount of years before Martha actually made it back to Ostania. I think in the original story Henry and Lucia were only married briefly by the time Martha came back which I dunno doesnt make any sense to me like girl get the divorce he dont want you.

The reason I say a few years rather than the canon few months, is because I want them to develop an actual relationship and bond before Martha returns and before they have their daughters.

Follow my vision for a minute; imagine a broken destroyed Henry convinced the love of his life died before he could even tell her how he truly felt. Feeling guilty and responsible for her death, convinced that had he just pushed back a bit more he could have saved her. Now he has to spend everyday watching her death be used a propaganda to force more people into their own untimely deaths all for nothing.

And to make things worse, just weeks after her supposed death he is forced to marry some woman who never felt and love her the way Martha deserved. It makes him feel sick, even trying to escape a few times. As he saw her walking down the aisle all he could do was scowl in disgust. This woman was a fraud in his eyes, just another puppet for the upperclass. The only feeling he had for her was bitterness and shame.

The first few weeks were rough, Henry actively avoiding her and refusing to even speak to her. He slept in the guest house shutting down all of her advances. Lucia felt trapped, she could tell something was bothering him but she didn't know what. It was obvious he didn't love her, it was an arranged marriage after all it was a given regardless of what the adults around them said. Still his attitude was crueler than necessary. She couldn't talk to anyone about it, not wanting to present their new union as already broken.

Eventually, she's able to corner him, forcing him to talk to her like adults. She prepared to screamed and degraded but instead her collapsed in tears, sharing the entire story with her. He expected her to mock him or even dismiss him but instead she comforted him. In fact she agreed with him. It was at that point he realized him and Lucia were not that much different.

From their on they formed a bond, not something explicitly of love but care. It was because of Lucia he was able to get over Martha's death and eventually fall her in a unique way. They both agreed Martha would always be his first love and Lucia was fine being second (well third after his daughter). His feelings never became fully romantic but he considered her his best friend and treasured their time together.

Lucia had no intention of getting between him and Martha. She saw their marriage as a more formal agreement and just didn't want him to hate her. She was even open to the idea of him dating Martha (once she found out she was alive) but at that point he had already moved and found a new love his daughter wife and was fine without her. Knowing she was alive was more than enough.

The she went to war again and he almost died from fear. The third time she stayed her ass at home.

Also fuck that girl's girl shit, Martha hated that bitch for decades. She had no valid reason to but human emotions aren't always logical.

But she's dead now and Martha's alive so fuck that bitch

Also Henry's daughters knew he was in love with Martha and now that their has passed they're actively plotting to get them together.

[niffala]

You Loved Me Once

Pairing: Jake Jensen / Plus-size OFC (Maisie)

Summary: It couldn't be gone. Somewhere deep inside him, he remembered their love. He had to.

Warnings: fluff, angst, feels, humor, mentions of naughty times with food, injuries, car accident due to explosion, mention of guns and being shot and stabbed, concussion, memory loss, fat shaming, heartbreak, breakup, enemies to lovers to strangers

A/N: Barely proofread. Takes place roughly 5 years after the movie. Reader insert version found here. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Jake Jensen tiptoed behind his niece, holding a finger to his lips to keep her friends mum about his presence. Carefully dropping a card into the hood of her zombie sweatshirt, he scampered away. The birthday girl would notice soon enough. And if not, her friends would point it out. The eighth graders well onto the sneaky uncle’s game.

Hannah was old enough that she preferred picking out her own things, but Jake hated the idea of just handing her a gift card. So he bought several for her favorite places; the ice cream parlor, the sporting goods store so she could get new cleats, the movies and so on. Throughout the party, Jake would stick a gift card in his niece's hoodie without her knowledge. The first was placed when he hugged her and wished her a happy birthday. Once discovered, he would find an opportunity to put in another.

Groaning, Stephanie plopped herself down, joining the table of chit-chatting adults. “You're a great uncle, but why did you have to convince her to have a zombie birthday?” She pointed an accusing finger at Jake, “Do you know how difficult it was to make a brain cake that oozes fake blood?”

“What? Christmas in July, zombies in June, not to mention 13 is an evil-evil number, made perfect sense to me.” He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hannah found the gift card, pursing her lips in mock annoyance as she pocketed it. “Besides, Angel here deserves half the credit.”

Maisie scoffed, “Don’t throw me under the bus. Your sister knows this was all you.”

In reality they both had an obsession with the genre. The couple loved watching monster movies together. Gotten into more than one heated debate over who could defeat whom. Each of them had their favorite creature army and strategies. And although dead and undead things didn't technically qualify, it fell under a similar umbrella.

“Party’s almost over. Any exciting plans after this?”

“Hannah is spending the night at her best friend’s house. So I plan to finish a bottle of wine, and the rest of that cake, while I watch my show and pass out. Then tomorrow, she has to be back by noon, to start her project on ‘armadillos and their impact on the environment.’ Don’t forget, Jake, you promised to help her research for the report and make a diorama.”

“Ooh, I can help too. I know lots of armadillo facts. They’re insectivores… they love to swim… give birth to identical quadruplets, and their armor is tougher than a 9mm.”

Jake threw his arm around his girlfriend, “My Angel is so helpful.” As he spoke, his niece walked by with her overnight bag. He quickly placed another card into her hood without missing a beat. “I can’t wait to get you home, watch Godzilla kick some Ghidorah butt. Maybe have my favorite snack, a little taste of the rainbow,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

Stephanie cringed at the suggestive tone, “Eww, I don't even want to know.”

Hannah began to put on her shoes to leave, finding another gift card inside the left one. “UNCLE J!”

Looking as smug as ever, Jake grabbed Maisie’s hand, announcing that was their cue to leave.

---------------

The day Clay introduced Maisie to the team, Jake didn’t take too kindly to her. Giving any reason he could think of as to why The Losers didn’t need a sixth member. Determined to prove her untrustworthy and unnecessary, he drilled her about the drones she makes and her qualifications, trying to catch her in a lie.

He didn't find one, and Clay insisted that she would be an asset. While the rest of the unit was in the field, Maisie would be at home, providing remote support. So Jensen could focus on staying alive instead of his computer. It didn't stop him from feeling like he was being replaced. He was the tech guy, why did they need her?

"Just so we're clear, Maisie, if that is your real name, I am hacker A and you are hacker B. I was here first and I'm not going anywhere."

After the first operation she more than proved her usefulness. Research, logistics, hacking, navigation, and drone assistance. Her drones gave them a bird's eye view, cameras, surveillance, real time topography, thermal imaging, warning systems, an extra set of guns and more.

It was impossible to deny she knew what she was doing. They only walked away in one piece because of her. But it wasn’t until Jake was making his usual attempt at humor mentioned battling kaiju, that the most beautiful sound graced his earpiece. Maisie was laughing, she understood the joke. She then told him a real kaiju would stomp him into monster toe jam, giving Jake a fit of clamorous snorting and wheezing.

“Careful there, Jakey, I don’t want to have to call the paramedics because you passed out.”

He heard the smile in her voice, he couldn’t get enough. “I changed my mind. You are now hacker A. A for Angel.”

Everything changed after that day. Jake flirted with her constantly on comms, much to his teammates' chagrin. His nonsensical banter was now mostly aimed to amuse her. He loved hearing her heavenly voice in his ear. Willing to do whatever it took to make her laugh. The more time he spent speaking with her, the harder he fell. There was an undeniable connection between them.

"So my beautiful Angel, keeping an eye on us from high above, when will you grace me with a date?" Jake had asked before and she had let him down gently. He had to try one more time, even if it led to another rejection.

"I told you, I don't date coworkers. Not even reeeaaally cute ones," she whined. Once again regretting the no.

"I know, but we're more like… long distance coworkers." He smiled to himself, lowering his voice to what he considered a sexy tone, "We work oceans apart so we can be skin to supple naked skin at home… and occasionally other locations. So it's not really breaking your rule."

Maisie giggled, "How can I say no when you put it like that."

"Soooo that's a yes?"

She couldn't help but give in to his dorky charm. "Yes, you can take me out when you're stateside. We'll see where this goes."

"Oh it's going. It's going so far you won't know where the hell we are. Just me and you, lost with nothing but a flashlight and our body heat to keep us warm."

There it was again, his favorite sound.

Four years later Jake still makes inappropriate comments over comms. Their relationship remained strong. Their love and devotion never wavering. Maisie didn't know Jake had been hunting for the perfect ring and planning a big proposal. He wanted to get it just right, his Angel deserved no less.

---------------

“Let's get it oooonnnn.

Let's love, baby.

Let's get it oooonnnn, suGAR.

Let's get it oooonnnn, woo hooooooooo.”

An hour and a half outside one of Sri Lanka’s capitals, the roar of a large truck speeding down a dirt road, was accompanied by very offkey, shrill singing.

Pooch gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his head briefly to yell at the offending teammate, “Shut up Jensen. You sound like a cat being skinned alive.”

The criticism didn’t bother Jake at all. “Don't be a party pooper, Linwood, I’m serenading my love.”

Maisie shook her head, smiling to herself. “You can sing to me later Jakey. Give the guys ears a break.”

“My gorgeous sexy Angel, when I return, I want to run a hot bubble bath for us. I need to feel those pretty nails scratch down my back. Then I’ll order sushi so you eat it off my naked body. This may or may not be followed by an equally sexy shower.”

"Clay, if I have to listen to this much longer, I'm gonna stab him." Aisha had enough. His lovesick screeching needed to be stopped.

Jake grinned ear to ear, placing his hands behind his head, "What can I say, she loves the angle of my dangle.”

“Okay, The Pooch does not need to hear about the weird Klingon sex or whatever you two are having.”

“Ooh Angel, HIja' bangwI' Ha'.”

"That’s enough,” Clay snapped. “Stop giving them new kinks and focus. The compound is eight klicks ahead. So unless you want to die today, zip it."

“You got it boss. Playtime’s over.” Jake’s voice became gruff and ominous, “Their evil lair looms in the distance. We must prepare our shields and sharpen our silver swords.”

“They aren’t werewolves... I don’t think.” Checking that her drones were in place and out of sight, Maisie cleared her throat, “Alright, it looks like the first set of guards are stationed in an armored vehicle outside the northwest entrance. All clear beyond that gate as of now.”

Clay nodded, “Copy that.”

“Come home to me safe Jakey.”

“Always my Angel. Love you.”

“Love you.”

---------------

All targets were eliminated, the team was on their way back to the hotel, the coast should have been clear. The explosion shocked everyone when an IED detonated under their truck. Four crawled out of the wreckage. The fifth was trapped inside, unconscious and unresponsive.

To say Maisie was drowning in guilt would be an understatement. She blamed herself for the accident. For logging off when she did. She wasn't watching out for them when they needed her. She should have monitored the vehicle better. It could have been prevented had she been more diligent. This was her fault. She would never forgive herself.

Clay knew the call would be a disaster. Weeping women made him uneasy. “I am the one that declared the mission complete. If you’re going to blame someone, blame me... No, do not fly out here. It could raise too many red flags and make the situation dangerous for us. Aisha already had to slip out of the country to avoid detection. Sit tight. I will call you when he wakes up… Jensen’s a fighter, Maise, he will pull through.”

It would be three days of crying and worrying herself sick before she would hear from her team again. Clay called with good news; Jensen was awake.

“He’s okay. Like the rest of us, he has some superficial cuts and deep bruising. He has a concussion, so they want to keep him a couple more days for observation. Then we're heading home.”

Maisie could breathe again. “Please, let me talk to him.”

“That wouldn't be a good idea right now. Jensen is too agitated and confused due to um…” Clay exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face, “Well, the concussion seems to have caused post-traumatic amnesia.”

“Amnesia? You mean he can’t remember anything?”

“He remembers everything before 2010 without any problem, but everything after is a blur. He doesn't remember… you.”

“He doesn't know me anymore? I…That doesn’t… If this is a joke, it's not funny, Clay.” As mad as she would be, she prayed this was a bad prank of Jake’s. Hopelessly looking around, expecting him to be sneaking up on her to grab her.

“I wish it was. The doctors assure us it is temporary, but its duration is undetermined. Could be hours to months. Until then he needs to avoid stress and stimulation, let his head heal. We can calmly tell him things he forgot, but not try to force him to remember. It will come back on its own.”

Clay grimaced, “And it kills me to ask this, Maise, but can you pack up some of his things? It would be better if Jensen stays with his sister, just until he’s more acquainted with you. He would undoubtedly be more comfortable somewhere familiar with someone he’s known his whole life.”

There was no response. If it weren't for her breathing, Clay would have thought the line disconnected. “Maise?” he tried again. “I know it’s a lot, hun, but you guys will get through this. Jensen will be better in no time. I’ll keep you updated.”

Maisie’s voice cracked as she softly answered, “O-okay.”

---------------

Jake had a killer migraine. The more he tried to think, the worse it got. Waking up in a different year will do that to a person. He wished it was because of something cool, like time travel or being kidnapped by aliens that zapped his brain, but no, it was just a car accident. An occupational hazard that caused him to lose the last five years of his life.

It felt like being trapped in the twilight zone. Everything was different. His team did their best to fill him in on what he was missing. He had to be told of their set up and life as fugitives. Of Roque's betrayal and death. How they were cleared and given honorable discharges, but let the ties remain cut. They were their own unit now, with Clay still leading. It made Jake happy that hadn't changed, they still kicked ass together. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

The part that intrigued him the most was being told he had a long time girlfriend, Maisie. Whom he called Angel. The group did the best they could telling him about the love of his life. His phone was damaged in the accident, so he couldn’t see a photo. The rest of the team weren’t picture taking people, with the exception of Pooch, who had a million of his son. Crazy, that his friend was now a father.

He learned how they met, about their home, and things they liked to do together, like mini golf and road trips to comic cons. That he loved everything about her, often claiming he secretly made her in a lab, because she couldn't be more perfect for him. And Maisie felt the same about him. He’d give her the honor of wearing his pirate hat when he was away. The one he claimed can only be worn with undies. The Losers hated that they knew that detail, but Jensen liked to overshare. How he still begged her to create a drone that can grab him and carry him through the air like Superman.

Jake listened intently and was excited to meet the awesome mystery woman they spoke about.

---------------

He had been back for less than twenty four hours and his head was killing him. He hadn’t recognized his own niece, she had grown so. Hannah jumped into his arms when he walked in the door, and he didn’t know her. Jake saw the heartbreak on her and his sister’s faces when she told him who she was. He felt like shit. The years he misplaced, this damn brain injury, was hurting the people he loved most.

Someone decided to throw Jensen a welcome home dinner at Clay’s. It certainly wasn’t Clay. All of the Losers would be there, including Maisie. They hoped this night would trigger his memories, or at least make him comfortable enough to move back home with her. They convinced themselves that seeing his girlfriend again would make everything click back into place.

Jake anxiously awaited her arrival. Practically bouncing off the walls with nervous energy. Clay had told him more than once to sit his ass down and relax, but he found it impossible.

Having gotten a babysitter for the night, Pooch arrived with his wife Jolene, a few cases of beer and bottles of wine.

Cougar was the next to arrive, he thought it better to not bring a date for once, Jensen didn't need actual strangers around to confuse him further.

Aisha walked in shortly after. Jake’s face lit up as he ran over, “Holy smokes, you guys weren't kidding. She is definitely mine.” He attempted to put his arm around her waist, but she was faster, catching and twisting the limb until it nearly broke.

Clay walked over to separate them. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time he had to rescue Jensen from her for doing something stupid. “Not yours, mine.” At Aisha’s glare he clarified, “When she wants to be that is. Jensen, this is Aisha. Hands to yourself or she is likely to shoot you again.”

“AGAIN?!”

“Did we not tell you that?”

Shit, she was late. Maisie had stopped to pick up dinner and it took longer than expected. This was not the way she wanted to see her Jakey again. She wore the superheroes vs supervillains jacket he bought for her. Each side ran up a sleeve and collided in battle in the back. Hoping that the sight of her in it will jog his memory. Nervously bouncing her legs, she checked her appearance in the car mirror. Not everyday the love of your life meets you for a second time.

Maisie quietly entered the apartment, her eyes instantly locked onto Jake. He was having a conversation with Pooch and Cougar, laughing and carefree. She noticed the cuts and bruises on his face and arms, knowing there were more under his clothes. It took all her strength not to run over and kiss each one.

She stood awkwardly by the door with the bags of food in her hands, waiting. Jake turned his head and looked right at her. Holding her breath, Maise searched for any spark of recognition in his eyes. He watched her quizzically, but gave no other reaction. Maybe she should have worn the droids shirt she had on when they first met.

Jake, seeing no one else moving to help, rose from his chair to assist. Giving an apologetic smile as he took the bags from her, “Sorry about that. Do we owe you anything?”

She blinked at him, “Huh?”

“I'm not sure who paid for the dinner,” he lifted the bags in question closer to eye level.

“Oh, I did. It was my turn.”

Jake stared blankly at her, before tilting his head, “So we know you?”

“Yes, I’m part of the team. I'm - I’m Maisie, your girlfriend.”

He threw his head back, “Ha! Very funny. Which one of them put you up to this?” Jake looked around the room for the culprit.

It felt like a snake winding around her heart. Why didn't he believe her? She looked at the group with worried eyes. This was getting uncomfortable for everyone. “No, it's not a joke. We’re together. We just had our fourth anniversary two months ago.”

“Oh,” Jake's eyebrows furrowed. He looked Maisie up and down, frowning. “Um, nice to meet ya. I guess.” Turning his back to her, he walked the food to the table. His splitting headache returned, thoughts swirling and unable to stick. He hated this.

Maisie didn't miss the pity in everyone’s eyes as she silently followed. She sniffed, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Her second first impression was turning out worse than the original.

During the meal, Jake sat in the chair next to her. His body tense, his smiles tight lipped and forced, unlike before. He avoided her gaze, scowling whenever Maisie tried to start a conversation. She made the mistake of touching his arm, and he recoiled. Her stomach was in knots, not understanding why he was reacting so harshly to her.

After everyone ate, Jake and the guys set up the poker table. He watched the women talking, growing bitter. As they brought over more drinks, he turned back to his friends, “This sucks. I deserve a hot babe like Aisha or Jolene. How'd I get stuck with the boring fat chick? Love of my life,” he scoffed, “I don't think so. Waste of my life maybe.”

Maisie froze in shock, her lip trembled. He couldn't have meant what he just said.

Pooch jumped to her defense, “Jensen what the hell, man? How could you say something like that? Amnesia or not, you’re never this rude and disrespectful. You may not remember right now, but Maisie is everything to you.”

“If you like her so much, why don't you date her,” he sneered.

”I have,” Clay retorted. “That’s how she came to work with us. Aisha and I were on a break and we dated. So I have first hand knowledge of how amazing she is.”

Jake’s voice filled with disdain, “Then why aren't you together? Perhaps it's because my first instincts about her were right. She can't be trusted and shouldn't be on this team.”

“Listen jackass, it’s because I decided to hire her. And you know I prefer my women a bit batshit crazy. She’s too sweet for me, but she’s perfect for you. You both have been smitten with each other from day one.”

Briefly turning to Maisie before refocusing on Clay, Jake shrugged, “I don't feel a damn thing when I look at her. Now that Aisha, she’s got parts of me stirring. Maybe I should steal her from you instead. Or have a different girl each night, like my man Cougar. Now that's the way to play it. Why tie myself to one woman, especially that one.”

There was an uproar from the group as Maisie sprinted to the bathroom, sobbing. Everyone began yelling at Jensen for his behavior. He fought back until his migraine got too severe. His vision blurred and he felt sick. Remembering his condition, the team felt guilty for the distress they caused. Cougar drove him back to his sister’s, while the women checked on Maisie.

Jolene rubbed Maisie’s back, trying to console her devastated friend. “You know his mouth is faster than his brain. He…”

“Talks out of his ass,” Aisha finished.

Jolene gave her a pointed look before continuing. “You two are amazing together. Just be patient, things will be better soon. This will all be like a bad dream before you know it.”

It was getting harder to breathe, the snake wound tighter and tighter. Maisie tried believing, but doubts and insecurities screamed in her head. And somehow the loudest was the one whispering, ‘You lost him and he's never coming back.’

---------------

Stephanie kept the team updated on Jake’s progress, or lack thereof. He spent the next two weeks hiding in her guestroom, sleeping or on his laptop, refusing to talk about what happened. In fact, he wasn’t speaking much to her or Hannah at all. Her brother’s silence was deeply concerning. To her memory, he’s never been quiet for more than ten minutes at a time. Hell, the man even talks in his sleep sometimes.

No one could imagine how hard this was for Maisie. They encouraged her to hold on just a little longer and her Jakey would be back to normal.

He doesn't mean it. You guys didn't hit it off the first time either. Keep trying.

You two need to spend more time together. You know he is crazy about you.

Sometimes brain injuries can lead to personality changes. This is temporary. The man loves you.

He will remember and come crawling to you with his tail between legs, begging for forgiveness.

He's not himself right now. He hasn't even been following how Hannah's soccer team is doing.

Give him another chance.

---------------

It was Tuesday night so the Losers went to their favorite hangout, Bar None, for half price drinks. Everyone was surprised when Jensen showed up in an Uber. Maisie did her best to greet him with warmth and a bright smile. For the next hour she tried talking with him, mentioning things from their life together and unsuccessfully keeping his eyes and attention on her.

Regrettably, he didn't give her the chance that she was trying to give him. Jake only looked at her with hatred in his eyes, making snide remarks. Her Jakey didn't have a mean bone in his body. He would get a bit aggravated with others when presented with something he forgot, but he was acting so cruelly toward Maisie. As if his subconscious was telling him she was his worst memory and protecting himself from her. It broke her heart more to think that may be true. She tried to hold her ground, but he was winning and his eyes were wandering.

Right now Jake was busy flirting with some redhead by the bar. The new him was surprisingly smooth. The woman responded to whatever he was saying with giggles and soft touches to his arm. After getting the chick’s number, he walked back to the booth like he won a trophy. He was met with a sea of disappointed and angry faces.

“What's wrong cougar, ya pissed I'm taking all your tail? The handsome cool laconic stranger act only goes so far pal. I'm on a roll tonight.”

Aisha’s fingers twitched, aching to grab her gun and shoot Jensen in the leg. “You’re pathetic. You are going to hate yourself when your memories are back. You’re royally fucking up here. The real Jake only has eyes for Maisie.”

Jake was sick of everyone telling him what he should feel. “Well, I'm not that Jake, I'm this Jake and this Jake doesn't want to go home with the ugly fat ass.” He looked at Maisie with disgust. Then raised his bottle in the redhead's direction, “I prefer to sample the riper fruit.”

The snake sunk its fangs in. Swallowing her hurt and humiliation, Maisie grabbed her purse and jacket, apologized to her teammates and headed out of the bar. Jake smiled at her retreat. ‘Good,’ he thought. His head felt better already.

Clay followed after his recruit, grabbing her arm before she got outside, “Don't go.”

“What's the point? Maisie screamed, her eyes watering. “You heard how he truly feels about me. We're clearly over.”

“He just doesn't remember.”

“And he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to know me. He wants nothing to do with me. What we had must have been some huge cosmic fluke. I have no other explanation for how he could stand to be with me.” She shook her head, arms falling limp at her sides.

“Maise.” Clay clasped her shoulder, unable to find the words to comfort her.

“Don't Worry, I'll get my own fat ass home.”

Cougar was furious. Jensen was directing his confusion and ire toward the person he needed the most. Maisie did not deserve this. As his friend got up to get another beer, Cougar stood in his way.

Jake sidestepped, only to be blocked again. “What’s your problem, Cougar?” he snapped.

“How dare you… You haven't shut up about that woman since you met. She gets you. Does all that geeky nerd shit with you. I’ve never seen two people so sickeningly in love. If you let her go, you are the dumbest fucking asshole on this planet.”

Jake laughed, “Wow! Tell me how you really feel.”

Cougar’s teeth clenched, "Go. After. Her."

Sparing a glance as Maisie slipped out the door, his lip curled. “I can do better.”

---------------

Clay was hesitant to allow Jensen on the new assignment in Corpus Christi. Jake begged, stating boredom and that his sister was treating him like a child. “I know I've been grouchy, but I'm fine, really. It's not like we’re even leaving the country.”

The Losers were already down a member, Aisha having business elsewhere that took precedence. Even with Maisie’s drones, three men on the ground wasn’t enough. Clay acquiesced on the condition that Jensen would alert the team if he got dizzy, his headache worsened or things became too much.

Jake was acting like his typical talkative self, but the topic was one Maisie couldn’t bear to hear. She did her best to be professional and not to let her team hear her cry.

“What a night boys. What... a… night. I’m surprised I can still move. Yasmin, that redhead from the bar, more like yaaas ma’am. I was gladly on my knees for that insatiable little sex kitten. And get this, we stopped to grab some beer and I saw a bag of skittles. Light bulb! I had the brilliant idea to trail the wet candy on her skin and lick off flavors and she was dowwwnnn for it. She…”

Maisie ripped out her earpiece, clutching her stomach. She was going to throw up. That was their secret thing. Jake loved saying he wanted to ‘taste the rainbow’ in public and it meaning something kinky.

The snake consumed her heart whole. Their love was gone. The shared laughs, the kisses, the cuddles, the sex, the conversations were gone. Their precious and too little time together now only memories. He wasn't her Jakey anymore.

Her Jake made her feel special and beautiful. He showed her everyday that he loved her dearly. He would never do this to her, never treat her like this. He’d kick anyone's ass that made her feel less than. He never let her doubt herself, always knew how to make her laugh. Her sweet motormouthed goofball was gone. She didn’t recognize the man that took his place.

What were you supposed to do when your whole world shattered in front of you?

Maisie could not continue working with them. It was too hard. Staying would surely kill her. Angrily wiping at her eyes to clear her blurred vision, she took a series of deep breaths. The monitors needed to be watched properly. She could at least do that. She could keep the Losers safe one last time.

Putting her comm back in, she knowingly subjected herself to hearing Jensen spill more details about his wild night with that woman. Maisie stayed online until they were back inside the safehouse.

Getting out of the van, Jensen tried to convince the team to go out. “We’ll grab a little surf and turf. Then find a nightclub to drink, dance and mingle. Come on guys, let’s get this party started.”

Everyone adamantly refused.

“Then let's stay for another day and go swimming at the beach. I'm sure there’s an army of bikini clad hotties just waiting to be wooed by us manly men.” His friends looked at him with disapproval. “What, I'm horny.”

Clay knew she was still there, he stayed on as long as she did. Not saying a word until, “I'm so sorry, Maise.”

---------------

Another Tuesday, another night at Bar None, only this time Maisie met the Losers to resign. She wanted to have a goodbye drink with her friends.

Pooch embraced her, “Don’t leave us. Don't leave him.” He was unaware that over his shoulder, she could see Jensen with his tongue down a brunette’s throat.

“I can't. I'm sorry, I can't.” She couldn’t stay and watch this again.

Aisha shook her head, she wasn’t a hugger and found the loss of her friend not something to celebrate.

“If you need a glowing recommendation, you know who to call.” Clay smiled, understanding she had to do what was best for her.

Maisie returned the gesture, “I already landed another job. I’ll be leaving the country in a few days.” She handed a business card to her former boss. “This is the real estate agent willing to sell the house. If you could give that to Jensen, or he can keep it. I don’t care.” She refused to cry again.

Cougar took Maisie’s hand, glaring at Jensen who was walking their way with his new conquest. He placed a lingering kiss on her hand, slipping her a small piece of paper in the process.

“I’m going to miss you Losers.” Maisie finished her beer and walked out of their lives.

Clay’s fists clenched, “Jensen, consider yourself suspended. Effective immediately.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, “Tsk, why? Because we lost a ton of dead weight. You should be thanking me.”

“Because you have proven the ‘new you’ cannot be trusted. You can return to duty when you're back to your old self… I need a team I can depend on and right now you are the farthest from that.”

“You’re serious?” Jensen dragged the brunette with him to find another booth. “Whatever, I don't need this shit.”

---------------

(3 weeks later)

Jake groaned, sleepily scooching closer to cuddle the warm body beside him. “Mmmm, my Angel.”

“Ooh baby, you ready for another round?”

Jumping at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, Jake scrambled out of the bed. He grabbed his gun and aimed it at the unknown woman. “Who the fuck are you? What did you do to my Angel?”

Her eyes grew as big as saucers, “I don't know who you're talking about, you goddamn psycho. We came here alone.”

Gun in hand, Jake began tearing through the apartment, searching for any evidence of Maisie.

“I'm calling the cops. Get out of my goddamn house,” she screamed, throwing his clothing at him.

Picking up his belongings, Jake yelled back, “I'm going, stop screaming.”

“Go fuck yourself, you fucking freak!”

Jake ran out holding his clothes, managing to get his boxers on as he fumbled down the stairs. Fishing his phone out of his pants, he dialed Maisie. Instead of his girlfriend’s voice, he heard ‘We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.’ 'That can't be right.'

Once outside, he put his glasses on and looked around, not recognizing a thing. 'Where the hell am I?' He redialed. "Come on, Angel, please." He received the same message.

A dark cloud of understanding enveloped him. 'Oh God. What the fuck did I do?' "You fucking idiot, what did you do?”

Jake trembled, “This can't be real. It's a nightmare. That's all it is.” He squeezed his eyes shut and began slapping his face. “Wake up you loser. Come on, wake up. WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

The sound of sirens approaching, and the sting of his cheeks proved a consciousness that he couldn’t accept. His eyes remained closed, “Please.”

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

*Bad klingon: HIja' = yes, bangwI'= my love, Ha' = let’s go 

Sequel : Love Me Again

[tcthinecwnself-a]

TO ALL MY OWL HOUSE MUTUALS (and anyone who cares)

Small callout post under the cut.

No drama. This is just for safety.

PLEASE do not interact with mellowwpuphub or any of her associated blogs. As some of you may know, she was the reason I quit RP between 2014-2018. I quit because she was horribly disrespectful and almost abusive towards me. She never wanted me to interact with duplicates, and demanded that I write my muses according to how she wanted things to go. 

- Ex: I had Elsa, she had Anna. She never wanted me to interact with other Annas, and accused me of trying to “replace” her when I did. My Vanellope also doesn’t like being hugged or touched by anyone not Ralph. She said that because her OC was her “sister” she deserved to not be included in that rule, despite me saying no.

I also made the mistake of telling her my real name. Despite knowing my preferred name is Peggy, she refused to call me that, making me uncomfortable at every interaction. She said that because she was my “real friend” she should get to call me by my “real name”.

as i moved on from interests, she would constantly shame me for leaving her behind, and mock my new interests. If i didn’t text her, she would be angry with me and accuse me of trying to leave her behind. eventually, she made me feel so unsafe that I had to block her.

TW for underaged muses used for mature themes

NOW, she is writing Owl House muses. and it’s honestly the worst thing I’ve ever seen. she has a “canon divergent” Luz blog, bxdbxdboy, where she has aged Luz up to 18. She has not changed icons. She has not done anything different. She makes sexual headcanons, does “purity” tests with her, and associates Luz with songs abt sex. Worst of all she has this in Luz’s bio

Words cannot express how uncomfortable this makes me.

So please. PLEASE. Do not interact with this person. She has proven herself time & time again to be a dangerous individual. Please don’t send her this way to my blog either. I literally do not want this lady ANYwhere near my blog, my mutuals, or any of the people I care about.

[lavenoon]

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

and lastly 🤩 Who is your favourite character to write?

I did this to myself, huh. Alright alright fine I'll compliment myself, y'all gfhdjs

(glad I put this in my queue tho, feels nicer to answer some after I finally got another lil drabble out hehe)

I'm really creative and love exploring little what-ifs, which is a lot of fun for me and many others! (do feel bad about it sometimes, so I'm turning this into an affirmation lmao) It's nice to see how a differing little detail or circumstance changes things, while depicting the same outcome because all my characters go "On purpose, I'm going to love you on purpose" <3

My sister knows, she was my beta reader for my tloz fic! She also knows I write for fnaf, which was just the same (mock) disappointment as when I told her I draw art for it fgdhjs Also pretty sure I told a couple friends about it? Some old hs friends bc I had no shame back then, and my uni friends, too. Hell, my parents know I write fanfic, I just don't tell them about what lmao. I like telling people I write! But unless they're interested in the source I usually just leave it at "oh yeah I'm writing a story for that media I like"

Angst no comfort. Anything that leads to hurt in a way that is not fixable within the narrative - betrayals, death (which I did write, only to back out again because it made me cry so much), and frankly anything along the lines of "I never actually loved you". I write about hope, and also to comfort myself with what I create, so while I enjoy catharsis it always, always has to come with comfort!

For AU specifically perhaps, it's... Well you're gonna be happy to hear it's Eclipse. Maybe because I haven't written him much but he's so so fun, and he kicks off so many good things it's always a delight to include him! In general it's very hard to say, I enjoy writing different characters for different reasons, so to compare them would be near impossible. I think, at the core, I love writing funny and caring characters! <3

[ink-flavored]

🍬 or 🌧!

Thank you! I'm gonna do both because I can do whatever I want

🍬 candy: share a sweet or fluffy scene from your wip!

Another sneak-peak of AU-gust things, this one's coming to Ko-Fi on 10/22, and to Ao3 in 2023!

“If we catch the ghost,” Atem mumbled, far past midnight, “what should we name it?”

“We’re not keeping it,” Yugi mumbled back.

“But it would be so cool.”

“Where would we even put it?”

“I dunno. Ghost jar.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“You’re the one who suggested a ghost net.” He snorted, incredulous. “Ghosts wouldn’t even fit in a net, they’d slip through the holes.”

“Oh yeah, how would you put a ghost in a jar?”

“Ask nicely.”

Yugi laughed harder than that joke deserved, loopy from lack of sleep. Atem put his head back on his shoulder, also laughing, subdued and silly. The apartment was otherwise completely silent.

“I’m tired,” Atem said. “Let’s catch the ghost tomorrow.”

“But we’ve already made it so far.”

“Maybe the ghost takes Fridays off.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

🌧️ rain: share a sad or emotional scene from your wip!

Sooooooo, I've been writing a sequel to dress-up game

The self-argument must have leaked through. Atem grew concerned. “Is there a reason you’re asking me all this, Partner?”

“Kind of,” Yugi said, and hated how his voice shook. He cleared his throat. “It makes me feel weird when you wear them. Not in a bad way—well, it is bad, but just for me. You don’t have to do anything else, it’s something about me.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Me neither, really.” He tried to laugh. It didn’t sound right. “I don’t know, I just feel sad when you wear a skirt sometimes. I’ll feel like I’m being left out or something, even though that doesn’t really make sense. I don’t know why I’d feel left out. It’s just clothes.”

“I see.” Atem rubbed the backs of his hands with his thumbs. “Could you be envious?”

“Wh-what?”

“I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds very much that way.”

Yugi felt like shrinking. Sides of a tiny box closed him in on all sides. He flinched wildly when Atem brushed his cheek, scaring the hand away momentarily.

“Partner,” he said, soft and patient, “do you want to wear a skirt?”

A loud voice screeched in Yugi’s head that demanded he say No, of course not, why would I ever want to do that? It sang in a chorus of all the bullies that had ever called him a girl for being short, quiet, and wimpy. The ones that made fun of him for having Anzu as his only friend. The ones who made crude drawings of him in the girl’s school uniform, captioned it SISSY!, and passed it to him during class. The ones who twirled their hair and danced around in imaginary skirts when they saw him, cooing in mocking, sing-song voices. His throat closed and his eyes burned.

Yugi moved his head in a trembling, shameful nod as the first tear dripped down his cheek.

[send me an october-themed ask]