#i NEVER see any love for women who are losing/have lost their hair and it's sad. spread the good word

[numetaljackdog]

shout the fuck out to bald girls btw. let it be known that i will show the fuck up for bald/balding girls any hour of the day, any day of the week, any week of the year. you could call me up at 3 in the morning and tell me that you happened upon some receding hairline queens who need hyping up and i would tell you i'll be there in five. i love you bald girls

#i NEVER see any love for women who are losing/have lost their hair and it's sad. spread the good word #*char noises*

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Aemond Targaryen - Love of My Life

Warnings: Aegon obviously, slight mention of alcohol, allusions to sexual harassment and violence, allusions to nightmare and self inflicted wounds OTHERWISE FLUFF FLUFF AND FLUFF

Words: 2.0k

SHE/HER PRONOUNS // 3rd PERSON VIEW

Summary: Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem like the loveliest person in Westeros but with Y/N, he would do anything to keep his betrothed happy and safe. He was the happiest with her, before and after marrying her.

**Valyrian translation after the imagine, below the --- line. Hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts.**

Aemond Targaryen wasn’t kind to everyone. Especially to the ones who crossed him or even annoyed him. 

Aemond Targaryen was only kind to a few people, including Y/N. She meant everything to the silver haired prince.

They both had met each other as children, as they both grew up in King’s Landing. Aemond had seen her for the first time reading a book in the castle’s library. As a child, it was Aemond’s peaceful place and it quickly became theirs. They would often meet after dinner, spend the night reading and talking about plenty of things. He was himself when he was with her. He loved the way she liked him as a person, not as a prince or as an arse. He loved the way she would tell him about everything, only because she trusted him. She would come to him if something was wrong and even as children, they would never lie to each other.

Many years of harmony passed until Aemond lost his eye. He became more distant even though Y/N wanted to be there for him. He wouldn’t let anyone in, at least he tried to let her in, but it was terrifying for him. Her seeing him so destroyed, tainted, as a monster. Yet Y/N did not see him as all those things, she came to his bedroom every so often, talk like they were children again and he would lose himself in her. He would become a child again, a happy one, a kind one. He would get drunk on the sound of her laughter, and he knew that he only wanted her in his life.

Two years after his eye was gone, his mother started to propose women to him, to get him to choose one of them. To make them his betrothed, but he only wanted her. He only wanted Y/N.

“Mother, I will not marry any of those girls.” He dropped on the Queen.

“And why is that, Aemond?” Because I only want Y/N, mother. I want her to be my wife. He urged to say it. He had to. And he did.

“I want to marry lady Y/N.”

His mother looked at him. He looked back at her, all seriousness in his eye. She nodded and walked away. The day after, his mother told him what he could marry her.

He was the happiest man in all Westeros.

The minute she had stepped into his room for their daily encounter, he ran to her and pulled her into his arms.

He spun her around in the air and she giggled loudly. His hands were spalled on her waist and hers tangled in his long hair.

He finally set her down on the ground, the height difference making its way back.

“What have you eaten to make you this happy, my dear Aemond? Have you had a new saddle for Vaghar or something?” She walked deeper into his room to sit on the velvet seat, her beautiful dress promoting her beautiful body.

“I have wonderful news. But I need you to hear me first, no talking.” She nodded as he approached her, kneeling before her.

She looked at him with big innocent eyes.

“We have known each other since we were children, and I have loved every single moment with you, my lady. Tis the day where I am asking you, with my family blessing, to marry me. I have loved you since I saw you in the library. When this,” he said, touching his patched eye, “happened, I closed myself to everyone but you did not let me shut you out. You stayed and I realised then that all I wanted, in my whole existence, was you. I only want you; you are the only one for me. I love you, and I’ll never stop. I swear on the gods. I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming mine forever?” He exhaled softly; his hands went to grab a small box from his lapel.

He opened the small box before the woman he loved. Her gaze shifted from his face to the beautiful ring, impaled with a blue sapphire decorating it.

“Aemond… I-I…” She was speechless. The expression on her face was unreadable.

He tried to pull away, thinking he made a fool of himself but she pulled his face to meet hers halfway. Their lips joined into sweet harmony and he pulled himself even more into her. His hands roamed on her body, finding their way to the low of her back, her legs spreading to let Aemond get closer.

She pulled away from his lips, her hands on his strong face.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Aemond. I’d marry you today, I’d have married you if we were children and I’d marry you again any day. I love you, Aemond Targaryen, I always have and I always will.”

His eye was glassy, a huge grin on his face appeared. He pulled one of his hands away, removing the ring from its box and placing around her ring finger. It was perfect.

She smiled so brightly, Aemond kissed her again. He was in heaven and he will always be if he’s with her.

Their wedding happened only weeks after the proposal and Aemond was the happiest with her. She was his and it was everything he ever dreamed of.

One night, a couple of years after their union, she was known as the untouchable wife. Yet someone in his family did not respect the “untouchable” aspect.

She was at a celebration, as were all of Aemond’s family. Music was filling up the room, the banquet was filled with too many people to count. But she could feel the presence of her dear husband behind her. They were both sitting at the main table, he grabbed her hand that landed on her thigh and kissed it, intertwining his fingers as well.

He pulled away, standing up, telling her he’ll be right back. Before he could pull back, she told him that she will go up directly to their room, it was late and she was tired. He nodded, offered her a sweet smile, and kissed her forehead sweetly.

As she made her way up, she was met with Aegon, his brother. Aegon was known for his sense, or his lack of sense, for the word “no”.

“Hello, wife. How dare you look so fine this evening!” He reeked of wine and many other beverages.

“Aegon, I am not your wife. Please go back to the venue, I’m sure there’s more women interested in you.” I desperately wanted him to go away.

“Mhm, must you have mistaken me, lady Y/N, yet I don’t like that attitude of yours.” He suddenly gripped her wrist tightly, and she tried to get out of his reach.

“Let go Aegon. Let. Me. Go. Now.” She ordered yet he pulled her flush to his chest and she hated every second of it. He breathed her in, and she pulled even harder to get out of his reach. He gripped her waist and before she knew it, she was pinned to a wall with both of her hands pressed behind her back, hitting the brick wall.

As he pressed himself even closer to her, she punched him between his legs and slapped him down on the ground before running away to her chambers.

Time passed before Aemond returned to their room. Y/N was asleep when he came into the room. Her peaceful form decorating the bed, her hair draping the pillow. He reached to her side, sitting besides her. He placed a sweet kiss on her forehead before reaching his side of the bed.

They were both sleeping in no time before Y/N was stirring up in her sleep. Aemond, like the light sleeper that he is, woke up in a second. She was whimpering in her sleep, her head snapping from sides to sides. She was clawing at her wrist, which Aemond tried to get her to stop.

“Jorrāelagon, wake up. Come on”, he clasped lightly at the hand that was clawing the other. “Y/N, wake up, come on, wake up.” He shook her slightly, sitting up in the bed.

She woke up and jolted up with small cry, she tried to pull away from him, as if he had hurt her.

“It’s alright, issa jorrāelagon, you’re alright. You're safe.” She realised that it wasn’t Aegon. It was only him. Only Aemond, the boy who she had loved for so long.

She melted into sobs when he pulled her in his arms, her legs pulled over his, one arm around her waist and the other one cradling her head. Her head and heavy sobs laid on his chest, his face resting by her head.

“Did you have a nightmare, dōna mirre?” She nodded weakly. Her sobs resuming. He praised her with sweet word in her ear, he cradled her in his arms, assuring her that she was safe.

Her sobs calmed down and she found peace in his heartbeat.

He looked down at the sight of her wife, he saddens at her gaze, his heart breaking because something is troubling her.

The hand that was cradling her head softly pulled at the wrist she was hurting in her sleep. He saw, even in the dim darkness, that there were marks, not of her nails, but of a tight embrace.

“Who did this to you, my love? When did this happen?” He questioned her softly, not wanting to startle her.

“I don’t want you to be mad.” She responded lightly.

He pulled her chin, making her look up at him.

“Love, I won’t be mad, I promise. I just want to know the truth.” He brushed her hair out of her face.

“It was Aegon. He was drunk, like always, but I was walking up to go to our room and he called me his wife, and he pulled my wrist,” She sniffled, Aemond felt her breath accelerate.

“Breathe my love, take your time.” He purred. Aemond was boiling on the inside but he could never be harsh on her.

“He pushed me to the wall, started to press himself against me, and I punched him away. I ran as fast as I could. I thought he was going to run after me, Aemond, I was so scared.” She truthfully told Aemond, her tears seeping his night shirt.

“Oh, dōna mirre, I’m sorry he’s done this to you. I’ll handle him in the morning, and I promise you he won’t ever touch you again, nobody will.” He caressed her hair, calming her down. He kissed the palm of her hand, trailing kisses down to her inflamed wrist. She calmed down, leaning into his touch.

Aemond pulled her down with him, to lay together in the bed.

“Everything is going to be just fine, darling. Rest in my arms, you’re safe.”

She turned to be faced with his chest. She looked up to his figure, some strands of glittery hair falling on his face.

“I love you, valzȳrys. Thank you for always being here for me.”

“No need to thank me, that’s what I’m here for. I love you." He whispered in her ear, pulling her against him, kissing her forehead and the rest of her face sweetly. She fell asleep in his arms, as she always did.

He’d deal with Aegon in the morning, and everything will be alright.

She’ll be alright. She was with Aemond after all.

“Ao sagon se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson.” He pressed one last kiss on the ring that laid upon his wife’s finger and went into a peaceful sleep.

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

I hope you like this imagine, I had a pleasure writing this. Here are the traduction in english for the Valyrian words.

Jorrāelagon: Love

issa jorrāelagon: my love

dōna mirre: sweet thing

valzȳrys: husband

Ao sagon se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson: You are the love of my life

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #hotd imagine

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Your mama’s crying

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x daughter reader

Warning: death, angst, Ian Doyle, depression, Ian calling reader by her “name”

It had been seven months…

Seven months since your mother had passed, your best friend had died at the hands of your father Ian Doyle. Seven months of losing yourself and recreating a new version of who you once were, everything had changed once she left, even me.

I couldn't bare looking into the mirror to stare at the dark eyes, raven hair that I mourned the loss of so I dyed it. Pink. Purple. Blue. Green. Red. Before settling on a beautiful Blonde that she would've loved. I swapped my glasses for coloured contacts, it hurt to see the ghost of my mother in myself.

Seven months and yet it felt like seven years..

The first day had begun a month after mum had passed, I was curled in her bed my face smothered in her blankets that were slowly loosing her scent. Morgan had burst into the room throwing my gym clothes at me telling me to get ready, we ran ten kilometres that day only stopping at the lookout on the hill to yell out our frustrations at the world.

It became a routine of sorts and sometimes Penelope would join us although she couldn’t keep up with us as often. It was okay. We would be okay, Sergio clung to me more as the months grew almost as if he just knew.

I sat with Derek on the roof, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders as we spoke "I miss her" I whispered curling myself into him more. "Me too, miniP' he kissed my head before resting his cheek on it"me too he repeated sadly "she'd be proud of you, you know that right?" | nodded biting my lip.

I hope she would be

Although I wanted revenge

I had graduated university top of my class with the team cheering me on in the crowd, how was I to see those two guilty faces. It hurt my mother not being in the front row like she was meant to but I imagined she had been.

My father loved me in a strange way

The team thought it best to use me as the bait to catch him, I called him to a cafe just a quiet one that I had visited him before at. Staring at him I felt nothing, his face was blank “whats the softest way to say you took away my friend, my buddy?. Whats the kindest way to say you took away my friend?”.

“You wouldn’t understand Alora” he whispered “so help me understand father” hopefully the team should walk in any moment. “It was simply fate my dear, we have a past” fate? Fate took my mother? My heart had shattering once more.

I wanted to scream and cry, throw anything available at him but I was just so numb and maybe he knew that as he leaned over. Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before the team burst in “Je t'aime Y/n” he whispered I love you Y/n “Adieu père” I whispered. Goodbye father

How dare he simply call it fate

“Elle m'a enlevé ma fille”

She took my daughter away

I was bound to him, mum was bound to him

I was his daughter

It was all a blur as he was arrested, I had become numb but I knew I hated France it would never be the same I’m not sure Virginia could be the same anymore.

I never went home that day, finding myself at Penelope’s front doorstep tears streaming down my face. Her arms had become home I wondered if my mother would be disappointed in me- of who I had become.

“Oh my sweetheart”

I wished I could’ve told her sooner about my adoration for women of my harboured feelings for an older blonde that I had no chance with. I had an internship with the bau while I found a job that I actually wanted, I had plans just as my mother once had.

We had been called into the conference room, I stood near the back “everyone take a seat” Hotch sighed as JJ stood beside him. "7 months ago I made a decision that affected this Team." he said, and I knew immediatly that this was about mum.

"As you know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfilitration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know." he said and I felt sick to my stomach.

"She stayed there until she was well enough to travel, she was reassigned to Paris where she was given several different identities which we had no access to for her security." He goes on.

"She's alive?" Penelope asked.

"But we buried her..." Reid says hurt.

I had buried my mother

I had buried my mother

Yet she had walked into the room with a smile on her face as if these seven months had never existed, I had buried my mother for nothing. These seven months had been a lie, all the words JJ and Aaron said had been lies all those tender hugs and kisses were full of guilt.

I couldn’t help but leave quickly as mum made her way around the team giving out hugs unaware she had watched me go. I couldn’t be there, I couldn’t be in that room not with everyone so happy to have her back, I grieved my mother.

I mourned someone who wasn’t dead

Maybe it was selfish of me but I left the team that day, finally moved my things out of my mothers apartment now that she was back. I ignored her calls so angry she could do such a thing the same went with Aaron and JJ, how could they? my mother?.

The team had called me often saying how my mother had been crying, her sobs begging for me and maybe in some sick way she knew just how I had felt.

I laid with my head in Penelopes lap as I sobbed, her soothing hands running through my hair “I know it’s hard right now Y/n but maybe it would be a good thing if you started talking to her again”.

“I’m just so scared Pen”

“And thats okay baby cakes”

It wouldn’t be another two weeks before I worked up the courage to talk to her, Rossi was hosting a part while I had arrived with the blonde. Mum made her way beside me “I’m proud of you Y/n” she slowly placed a hand on my shoulder.

She took a deep breath in tears already staining her waterline “and I’m sorry, if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve but Aaron had said no. I asked them everyday about you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here I’m sorry, I put my little girl through all this pain”

She moved her hands to cup my face “my baby girl, and when you graduated Uni. I made sure Aaron got me a clip of you. I never once stopped thinking about you, Mon cher I love you”

“And I am so so proud of you” the warmth of her lips pressed against my forehead cemented she was real “I’m sorry mama” I cried. “I was just so angry, I didn’t mean to make you cry” she pulled me into her chest rocking us gently side by side.

After a while she chuckle causing me to look up confused “you and Garcia?” She smirked with a raised brow

#imagine #wlw #angst #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds

[amoonalls]

What I Have Learned About Men

1. The Way For Men to Choose or Chase You is By Them Putting You in Pedestal

The man has to see you as higher than him. I'm not talking about competing with a man, I'm talking about being better than man in something he could never do in this lifetime. And that's by being more beautiful and more feminine. Straight men won't be able to do that. Being smart and high achieving in career do work but this professional world is created for men. More often than not men are higher achiever than women. Then being prettier and more feminine is the thing you can do as a woman

2. It's Much Easier For You To Move On When You:

a. Giving Less or None to Men

When you are always in receiving end and you never make sacrifice for men, the only feeling you feel when you seperate with those men is some kind of regret or a lil lost cuz you used to have people do things for you but you no longer have that. But you don't have any kind of resentment because you lose nothing of your energy and resources. Look at those divorcee women or barbara the builder ex gf. What do they say when they crying about their loss? They always say "I did everything for him.. I was there for him when he was in broke and miserable, I paid for his tuition, I cleaned his house and now he left me for other women". You would never hear women crying and saying "I do nothing for him and he left me" cuz women do measure their emotional losses for how much they have given to men. But when men have given so much to you especially money.. you can break up with him thousand times and he will always want to come back. Men don't want to lose things and people they have invest in. You see tons of women have friendship breakup but you rarely see men having their bro breakup

b. Have Your Own Standard

The standard is not on specific person but on things. The standard is not Max but what Max have and do. The standard is not who Max is but how much money Max make and how much he gives to you. Loving someone for what they are is for woman not for man. For a man, partly you love them based on how much they give to you. So say that the standard is that you want a man that is able to give you like $2000 per month. That any man be it Max, Xavier, Dan that are able to give that to you will fall into that category. You can be hopeless romantic when it's toward yourself but when it's about man you have to be single focus. Doesn't care if a man has roster etc etc once the man has been proven to fulfill your standard, you go for that. And you may encounter men who fulfill your material standard but don't want you. Strong and confident women don't get insecure and have meltdown over that fact because as men's life get better their standard get better. Which is why I say there is more than just material standards. It also have to be emotional, mental, and genuine attraction and feelings toward you

3. Do Not Get Insecure On Things You Refuse To Do

So what? You get insecure of beautiful women a man follow on instagram but you refuse to work on yourself? You hate man for following sexy woman when you always keeping yourself look plain? Darling, do you think these sexy women will still be sexy if their feeds are contained with tnem wearing baggy clothes and with bed hair? Observe those women, they do everything to their looks and take the best efforts to take pics for them to be able to post a bombshell pic that a man like. Rather than being jealous toward those women, why don't you get inspired by them? Start observing what these women wear and how they take pics and do that to yourself while you find your best style. You can't hate on women who do so much to keep up with their looks when you are halfassing yourself. And these women have hella confidence for them to post their alluring pics on instagram. You can't be shy and stiff when being taken pic of and hoping it will come out as magnificent pic. Start being confident and post that then you will see you will care much less of those women you will never meet cuz you already become them

And why I use astrology tag? Because only Saturnian women learn about this. Saturn is brutal reality, love and romance are not just dreamy and beautiful things the whole dating can be harsh and cold and never be for faint hearted. Who is not the most perfect candidate to be able to tackle these challenges if it's not Saturnian women? They are accustomed for that. Which is why you see a lot of hypergamous women have prominent Saturn influences. Only strong women are able to tackle with those things when many people choose to be swept off by otherwordly love

#hypergamousblr #hypergamyblr #hypergamy #astrology #astro observation #aquarius #capricorn #venus square saturn #saturn in 7th house

[mykinkyyandere]

I Am Saving You

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark!Peter Pevensie X f!Reader

Summary: You get lost in Narnia and Peter finds you.

Warnings: Yandere, dark, non-con touching, obsession, possession, kidnapping, male dominance, "women need men to survive" dialogues, mature characters, sorry for any mistakes

You didn't understand where you were. You kept running and running. You heard someone calling you to stop but why would you trust him? What was this place anyway? Talking animals, moving trees, and- and... was that a mouse? You fell when it suddenly appeared right in front of your face. "Where's the rush?"

"You are a mouse! And you are talking!"

He sighed and greeted you like you were a princess. "Excellent observer, aren't we? Well, I would like to hear more of your lovely deductions but I don't think we have enough time for that."

And shortly after, you heard him again. This time he was right behind you. "Are you okay? I told you to stop running! Why couldn't you just listen what I said?" He quickly kneeled and checked you. Touched your body to see if there's any problem. He didn't have to touch you but seemed like he was so eager for it. He was so gentle and soft, like you were so fragile and he could hurt you. He looked you in the eye, you could see that his stare was admiring. But there was a twisted desire to possess. His stare said that he didn't want you to go anywhere.

He touched your messy hair, your wet cheeks and your delicate neck. Then your tiny shoulders, your weak arms, and exposed legs... when he touched your foot you tried to kick him but he grabbed it firmly and didn't let you. "No, you don't get away from me." He took you in his arms and you were so weak to go against him. Hurt and tired. He looked at you, looking proud to carrying you. "You don't have to be afraid. You are safe with me."

All you could was hugging his neck and looking at him with your teary eyes. You were alone, scared and you didn't know where you were. Could you trust this young man? He touched you like a pervert. "Where am I?" you whispered.

"You are in Narnia, beautiful girl." He smiled. "I don't know how you found here, but I'm glad you did. You are so lucky that I saw you, now you have me to protect you. Don't worry, I will never leave you."

"Narnia... What is- where is Narnia? Animals and creatures and, and... I don't understand. Is this a dream? I think I'm losing my mind!" You burried your face on his chest and brusted into tears.

He knew it was too much for you and you needed some time, so he let you cry and didn't talk. Not that you were clinging, hugging him. Not that you rested your face on his shoulder, leaned your head to catch your breath and gave hot blows to his neck. Not that he loved to meet your desparate need of comfortation.

You stopped crying after a while. There were just little sighs. You put your head and hand on his chest, eyes were heavy. You were ready to give in to sleep. "What is your name?"

He let out a small laugh, "You finally want to know my name. I thought you'd never ask."

"I want to know who's kidnapping me." You showed your last piece of resistance with this sentence.

"Wha- what? Kidnapping you? You want to know who's kidnapping you?" You looked at him. He was shocked, shaking his head and laughing in disbelief. "You, helpless little girl, would be in a great danger if I didn't save you. I imagine you walking around by yourself, but even the thought of it is terrible. How could a poor girl like you protect herself? Even the first simple threat you faced would pose a great risk to you. And yet you are accusing me of kidnapping you. I am saving you, silly girl! You need a men like me to take care of you, this is how it works!"

Tears filled your eyes again. He was insane.

#yandere peter pevensie #dark peter pevensie #yandere peter pevensie x reader #dark peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie #yandere narnia #dark narnia #the chronicles of narnia #narnia x reader #narnia #king peter the magnificent #high king peter #king peter pevensie

[thegreengnome]

Hey you! I saw you are taking on requests and I had this idea of Aemond x reader after the war ended, the greens won and they are trying to rebuild their relationship post-Alys (basically reader found about her and since then she was just brokenhearted, bitter and hating on him). Maybe they also lost something during the conflict, like the reader losing a pregnancy due to the news of Alys or such. She is very cold to him and he tries to make things better and rebuild what he destroyed. Please please feel free to exclude anything you don't feel comfortable writing or play with this idea however you want, modify etc. Thank you so much if you write it and I hope we see more of your talent soon because I loveeeddd your pieces (especially the Alicent one, holy mollyy) :X:X

I hope you like it!

The war was finally over and it had been for several weeks, yet Y/N Targaryen still often caught herself looking over her shoulder- for what? She did not know but Y/N knew from experience that danger lurked around the red keep at every corner and could strike at her at any moment. Y/N would not let that happen again.

To some she may seem paranoid but Y/N felt safer within herself after accomplishing her nightly rituals. These consisted of checking over her shoulder as she walked around the red keep, once inside her chamber’s Y/N would push a large chair over to the door, pushing it up against the handle, and she would make sure that she slept on the side of the bed closer to the secret alleyway, just in case she needed to escape.

Once safely in her chambers with the chair blocking the door, Y/N felt like she could finally breath. Removing her jewellery, she places them down on her dressing table. Y/N no longer felt safe around the staff and would dress and undress herself due to this. She no longer trusted them, not after Alys.

A knock startled the lady, the ring clutched in her dainty hand dropping to her vanity with a clunk.

“Who-who is it?” Y/N timidly asked. Before the war timid was not a word often used to describe the fiery women.

“It is Aemond my love”

Y/N barley kept her scoff in ‘my love’ what a jest.

“What is it that you need, my prince?”

The formality stung him as he attempts to push the door open but finds it blocked “May I come in?”

“No”

The pushing stopped momentarily before starting back up again. “Please, my love. I only wish to see you”

Ignoring her husband Y/N continues to remove her jewellery, all but one ring. A simple band of gold. A name transcribed inside – a name she would never forget. Badric.

Finally gaining traction Aemond pushes the offending furniture out of his way. Y/N does not relent in her effort to ignore the man. Steadfast in her decision to freeze the man out.

Aemond takes note of the wooden toys still in the corner of the chambers. He had them commissioned once the news of Y/N’s pregnancy had been confirmed. The chair that he had pushed away had a small child’s blanket thrown over it. The one his sweet sister had cross stitched with dragons.

The room seemed to have stopped in time. It made his heart hurt.

His wife. His wonderful wife stood before him. A shadow of her former self. Her face gaunt and hollow her hair thinning. This woman was not his love.

What had he done.

“My love. It is only midday, and I know you have not eaten yet”

Midday? That could not be right. Y/N knows it can not be. She was getting ready for bed; it must be nighttime.

The debate in her mind distracted her enough so that Aemond could approach.

The squeak she let out startled them both. Turning abruptly, she faces Aemond “Is it truly midday?”

Aemond wordlessly nods. His hands aching to hold her, to bring her close and to comfort her.

“oh”

Aemond could not bare this. The women that inspired him could not even look him in the eye.

He knew that it was his fault. Completely and utterly his fault. He had hurt her.

Alys was a name he wished could be scrubbed from everything around him. But even after everything had ended, he could still see Alys infecting his wife. Changing her, taking her soul from her until all that was left was this empty husk

He had killed men, some no older than boys but he regretted none of that, it was war and war brought out the worst in everyone. But Alys was a different story. He had been lonely, having been away from Y/N and their son for months. Y/N was not there but Alys was.

Y/N was never meant to know, but of course once Aegon had something over his brother, he relished in using it against him.

Then there was Badric. His boy. Only one name day old and already the best thing in both his parents’ lives. Aemond had no idea what his mistress was capable.

With word that the greens had won, Aemond was allowed to head home. He was relived to go back to the red keep and be with his wife and son.

Alys did not take the news of his departure well. Y/N was a threat to her and to Aemonds child that grew within her.

A plan was formed, she would take her place next to Aemond and with Aegon out of the way she would be queen and her son king. The lady wife and child would have to go. It was the only way.

Y/N had always felt safe in the red keep, surround by her family and the guards.

A new maid, two steaming cups placed Infront of Y/N and her son, one filled with sweet tea the other warmed up goats milk and everything had changed. While Y/N recovered, Badric did not.

Aemond knew that his actions had led to the death of not only his child but his wife as well.

If it took him years to achieve, Aemond would do everything in his power to help his wife. To see her feel safe once again in her own home and to help her grieve for the child that they both lost.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #alys rivers #aemond imagine #house of the dragon aemond #aegon targaryen

[nhasablogg]

Soft

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Steve/Eddie

Summary: Steve realizes he’s gotten softer after he’s stopped playing sports. It’s not necessarily a problem until he starts overthinking it.

Warnings: Mentions of body issues.

Words: 1.2k

Once Steve finished high school and stopped playing sports, his body became softer. It didn’t bother him, really. In fact he barely noticed it, his days of admiring himself in the mirror overshadowed by monsters and the video store. And the difference wasn’t glaringly obvious to anyone, even to him, unless he paid attention.

He only started paying attention once he started sleeping with Eddie, and it was only because Eddie was obsessed with touching his belly.

“You’re so ticklish,” he would tease when the skin jumped beneath his hand, and Steve would whine because he was ticklish, dammit, and Eddie wasn’t making it easier for him to not be a giggly, squirmy mess every other night.

It was one of those nights, when Eddie was just beginning his daily torment of Steve’s sensitive spots, that Steve noticed how his stomach jiggled under his touch. “Wait,” he said, and Eddie must’ve heard a difference in his tone because he withdrew his hand immediately.

Steve poked his own midriff, the flesh softer than he’d ever really seen it before. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just-” He knew it was no big deal, really. Knew he was mostly just losing muscles, knew there was nothing wrong with being chubby or fat anyway. But Steve wasn’t good with change, and Steve had never really thought of his body as anything other than something women (and apparently men) wanted. And in line of the standards he’d grown up with, women (and men? he was less sure) wanted muscles and fitness and confidence (at least that was what he’d been told), and Steve wondered if he could keep his confidence if he couldn’t keep his muscles.

He pulled his shirt down and Eddie didn’t pry, didn’t try to touch his belly again, but did open his arms to let Steve crawl into them.

As he buried his face in Eddie’s neck, one of his ticklish spots, he wondered why it mattered what other people thought when Eddie had only really seen and therefore loved this version of him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his skin, and Eddie, who had huffed out a laugh only seconds before as Steve was still adjusting against his throat, probably knew he wasn’t apologizing for the accidental tickle.

“Talk to me when you’re ready,” he said, fingertips ghosting over Steve’s spine, making him shiver. He wondered if his sides were getting softer too. If his thighs and arms had lost any definition.

“I’m having a stupid crisis over losing muscle.”

Eddie was silent for a moment before saying, “Losing muscle?”

“Or gaining weight, but I think losing muscle sounds more logical to have a crisis over.”

“Oh.” Eddie dragged out the word and his throat vibrated against Steve’s face. “I see. Okay.”

Steve whined as Eddie forced them to sit up again. “We don’t have to do this now.”

“Oh, yes, we do before you make this into a bigger thing without meaning to. Okay. Talk to me. You think you’ve gained weight?”

“Well, I’m softer-” He gestured to his body. “-everywhere. Which is fine, I get it, I don’t really do anything but shelve movies nowadays and occasionally run from monsters. It’s fine.”

“You don’t sound like you’re fine.” Eddie had said it so softly, head tilted, eyes looking at him as if it pained him to hear this.

Steve swallowed, suddenly on the verge of fucking tears. “I-” His voice broke off. God, this was embarrassing. “I’m fine not being Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, you know. I’m fine being seen as a loser who hangs out with kids and people who this town will consider misfits. Someone who will live and die in this town, having lost my status. I’m fine with it.”

“Steve.”

“But I think my body was the only thing I had left from when I was considered a god, that’s all. It’s stupid. It’s selfish. I don’t even want to go back to those days because I’m actually happy now, with you.” He looked away when he said the last part. Even though Eddie knew exactly how he felt about him Steve still found it difficult to be vulnerable like that. Which was also stupid.

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie said, reaching out to tap at his knee. “Lots has changed for you the past year. It’s always the smallest thing that makes you spiral, right?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“And change is scary, I get that.”

“Are you calling me a coward?”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

Steve huffed. “I feel stupid.”

“Stop saying that.” Eddie went to poke at his belly before he caught himself, and Steve was faced with the uncomfortable revelation that he actually wanted the tickle.

One discovery at a time, please, universe.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s okay.” Steve could just say nothing about it. He was certain Eddie wouldn’t stop doing it after this anyway. “It’s okay,” he said again, looking down.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, hand on his knee again. “I love that you’re soft.”

Steve hummed, unable to keep his blush at bay. “Stop.”

“What, you don’t want to hear how much I love your body?” Eddie scooted closer, lacing his arms around him. “How much I adore how well your sides curve in my hands? The sounds you make when I kiss down your chest and trail my fingers over your ribs. How ridiculously ticklish you are and how you never really try to get away.”

Ah. Steve was the last to make the discovery as usual then.

Eddie pulled him closer, lips against his cheek. “Do you want me to continue? Or-” He pulled back to smirk at him. “-do you want me to demonstrate?”

“You’re so mean for asking.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Demonstrate it is, then. See this?” Eddie curled his fingers over Steve’s tummy. “I love how soft it is. It feels so nice to tickle you here. To kiss you. I don’t know what it is, but you have some sort of limit. Once I pass it you don’t seem as ticklish, and I can kiss you as much as I want.”

Steve, in the midst of the burning blush on his face, realized he knew exactly what limit Eddie was talking about. What Eddie didn’t know was that it usually did tickle still, but Steve was too consumed with desire to care. Maybe he even liked that it still tickled a little. Maybe that was part of it.

“Stop,” Steve said, pushing his hand away.

“Why?”

“Tickles.”

“Mm, but you don’t mind that, do you?”

Jesus. Did this man notice everything?

Eddie ran a finger down the side of his stomach. “It’s a good thing,” he said. “Because I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t allowed to touch you there.”

“You got some kind of fetish or somethin’?”

Eddie burst into laughter. “Way to ruin a moment, Steve.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I get, uh-”

“Embarrassed? Yeah, I can tell.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Eddie poked him, just below that spot on his ribs that made him scream if it was tickled for long enough. “But just to finish off, I like every part of you, soft or firm, ticklish or not. Though most of you is ticklish, so I guess I don’t know about the latter.”

“You’re this close to getting banned from touching my stomach for the next week.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Liar.” Eddie grinned at him and Steve huffed, turning away because, no, he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t.

#tickling #steddie #steddie fic #ticklish!steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things #n writes #soft

[saphir93]

Adam x Lute “I can’t lose you again”

Chapter two – “I can’t lose you again”

SAINT AUGUSTINE: "Death is nothing..."

Death is nothing. I just switched to the other side: it's like I was hiding in the next room. I'm still me, and you're still you. What we were before for each other we still are. Call me by the name you have always given me, which is familiar to you; speak to me in the same affectionate way you have always used. Don't change your tone of voice, don't look solemn or sad. Continue to laugh at what made us laugh, at those little things that we liked so much when we were together. Pray, smile, think of me! May my name always be the same familiar word as before: pronounce it without the slightest trace of shadow or sadness. Our life retains all the meaning it has always had: it is the same as before, there is a continuity that cannot be broken. Why should I be out of your thoughts and mind, just because I'm out of your sight? I'm not far, I'm on the other side, just around the corner. Reassure yourself, everything is fine. You will find my heart again, you will find its purified tenderness. Dry your tears and don't cry, if you love me: your smile is my peace.

Since Adam returned as fallen in hell, he had always spent his time meditating on his condition as he had to learn to survive and accept those he had always considered only sinners and scum. He didn't know where to go except to the bizarre hotel of that damned whore, the offspring of the one who had ruined the heavenly plans in Eden twice, even if Lucifer kept repeating to him "I didn't ruin you Adam, you know the truth.".

So having taken away everything he had received from the beginning would have been right? In fact, when he was curled up in bed alone he  think only about Lute. So why did he still have to be angry about two bitches that he had never chosen of his own free will? Two women he never love. What would they say in heaven now? How would Lute react? She didn't know anything and who knows how she was. Adam also thought about his ruined appearance, his perfect skin with a bright and tanned color was now paler and greyish, his pointed ears, his sharp black nails and those disturbing eyes with dark sclera, but the worst were those fucking horns on his head in the middle of his hair and god knows how much he wanted to break them away, he wanted them to disappear forever. The clothes were darker, black and red, with signs of inverted crosses and flames drawn like his guitar and then also the teeth, the teeth had two pairs of sharp fangs like a fucking vampire or predator (Snake or feline). And his wings, his wonderful gold and white feathered wings were now all black like those of the fallen angels.

Adam however no longer cared what happened to him, he had swallowed so much shit in that time in hell and put himself in that state that he had ignored any advice as to when the exorcists would return. He remembered that Lute was in charge now. He passed uncovered everywhere in the city while chaos reigned. Adam knew how to deal with his adversaries, he knew them well, he himself had been like them. He had nothing left to lose now, he just wanted to see Lute again even if it would cost him his life. Adam was soon targeted but still fared well in combat. He saw her looking at him in difficulty while he was in flight, she had stopped for a moment. “Lute!” he called. Lute swooped toward him as bloody carnage raged all around her. In a short time she was immediately on top of him, Adam instinctively tried to cover himself in fear “Lute! Wait, stop!” he shouted “It's me! I'm Adam.” In fact, Lute held him tightly in a hug. "Adam." she said, “When I saw you… I… I knew it was you. Those wings, those eyes, that face, clothes, that guitar and then your voice.”. She took off his mask. “Adam, no fallen appearance can hide you from me. You shouted my name, I thought I had lost you forever that time." Adam held her tighter “I waited for you. I missed you, you bitch.” but then more than one exorcists comes forward “Sinners must be eliminated!” Lute “No! You mustn't touch this one. It's an order. I will take care of it." but they shouted “No sinner has the right to remain alive. Everyone must be punished.” they drew spears and swords, but Lute covered Adam by shielding him and standing before him. “No! Don't touch this one.”.

"Betrayal!" some of the exterminators shouted, but as they rushed to strike Adam, Lute cut them off one by one with his sword. There was blood splashing everywhere, arms and heads severed. Lute looked at the others with unprecedented ferocity "Do any of you intend to disobey my orders again?" she saw them stop with dazed and annoyed looks and then fly away through the portal. Adam was shocked and his clothes like Lute's were dirty everywhere with gold blood stains. Lute returned to him all agitated. "Adam? Are you OK?" Adam “Fuck, you really made a big mess dangerous tits. I'm fine...let's say.” and pulled at his dark yellow-stained robe. Lute had tears in his eyes, tears began to roll down his face. Adam smiled looking at her intently “Now you're here.” Lute “They wanted to kill you. Adam…I can't lose you again. I cannot." Adam wanted to say something but Lute pulled him towards him and kissed him intensely.

It was quite long and intense, nothing like what he had had with his previous wives, very poor and not very intense kisses. With Lute the synchronization and intensity were perfect, when they both began to dig deeper with their tongues and only Lute understood his desire to be so intense. When they broke away, Adam was breathing heavily just like Lute was sweating and his heart was beating fast. That time he returned to the hotel taking Lute with him to her room and spending a moment of intense passion having sex. Adam make love with her, it was so sweet, he enjoyed the sex so much as he had never done before with his two wives. When both were collapsed they lovely hugged each other. She held Adam more intensely, Adam felt so good, he felt protected and loved finally. “It's not fair Lute. I always want to be so happy, always and only with you. All I ask. You're so important to me, so dear, shit, I always want to be with you. I…I love you.” Lute “We will find a solution, I promise. I love you too Adam."

The start of a fan serie I'm working on, this is the part two post first officialy season, sinner Adam arc concept. Can find the first part in this link HERE

#vivziepop #canon couple #adam x lute #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #guitarspear #couple #vivziepop hazbin hotel #spoilers #sinner adam

[limeade-l3sbian]

beauty is literally a hopeless loop to fall into and i feel such sorrow for all the women it’s claws have sunk deep into.

i’m losing weight lately due to lifestyle changes, recovering from binge eating, and it’s a positive, one should thing, right, that i can finally shed some of my extreme excess weight and potentially reach a healthier alternative.

so why am i suddenly getting tiktoks recommended about the ozympic face, talking about how it’s inevitable that your face ages poorly if u lose a lot of weight and that to avoid that u should seek out expensive beauty treatments, all from light therapy, fat injections, filler, botox, painful chemical peels, face lifts, skin removal, the list goes on. i’m in a fairly healthy mindset rn and i’ve never subscribed to beauty rituals that most women do, so i can escape the lure, but for women who are used to thinking of this as natural, imagine seeing all this videos and recommendations and shaming for sagging skin after u did the hard work and lost weight to better ur health? that’s so fucking sad.

at that point it’s a never ending cycle of self loathing and “improvement”. there’s never a place where ur body can just get to ((be)). because u made the “fatal mistake” of “allowing urself” to become fat and now ur body will forever carry the evidence without assistance. that’s supposed to make people wanna better themselves but all i see is soul crushing defeat whenever women turn, no matter the choices they make.

I saw a video recently where a woman said she knew that no matter how many things she did, it was always in the back of her mind that she would still age and when she was dead, it would all be useless. I think her caption was something like, "But I can't stop." The comments are similarly devastating.

Later that night, I saw a video of a young girl getting acrylics and another where a black mother was bragging about how her young daughter, we're talking 8-10, always stays presentable because she gets her silk presses constantly.

I think when someone of them say they don't know how to stop, they're not being dramatic. I think there are a lot of women who have been fed that certain beauty regimens are equivalent to maintaining your hygiene. A black woman made a video about how some other black women clowned her at an HBCU because she was meeting with her boyfriend and walked through the common area of the dorms with her natural hair messy. OTHER black women made comments saying, "I think she learned a valuable lesson that you can't just leave the house any kind of way."

If you grew up with it, it is a corruptive thing and becomes another tool of elitism that can be attained by any woman of any class. You "feel good with it" because you have successfully removed the threat of those you love and complete strangers commenting on your face for looking "tired" when you just look like a fucking human being.

Tears me up inside. Genuinely.

#ask

[amyzaaiman-blog]

On Grief & The Hard Time That People Are Giving Jackie Howard:

I just have to say that I lost my mom 3 years ago & have no relationship with my father, so I'm essentially an orphan. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but everyone grieves differently. You don't know how you're going to respond until you're in that situation, so don't judge so hastily. My mom was the closest person in the world to me (besides my husband, who has been an amazing support) & losing her turned me into a complete mess. I didn't leave the house for about a year (that's not an exaggeration), I picked up about 17kgs and then proceeded to vomit everyday for the next year and lost all of the weight again. My hair fell out in clumps. I couldn't sleep. My period stopped for about 1.5 years. I did things I would NEVER have done beforehand, such as seeking escapism like smoking weed everyday. I couldn't function properly or work. I had permanent brain fog. Other people have different ways of responding to this type of situation. I was in such a confused, repressed haze for so long that I only feel as if I'm properly processing her passing now. For the first time in 3 years, I'm finally experiencing anger (which is one of the key phases of bereavement). You just never know.

If you read the book, it's clear that Jackie initially does have a very intense, emotional response after her family dies - she falls apart. She doesn't get out of bed for like a month. Then, one day, as a way of distracting herself & making her family proud, she gets out of bed & focuses solely on getting into Princeton. While they don't show all of this backstory in the show, it's very obvious to me that she's bottling up all of her emotions. Her worst nightmare is to be pitied. And honestly, as she says in the show, no one knows what to say to you in such circumstances. Everything sounds awkward/disingenuous/well-meaning but misplaced/alienating.

I'm really not surprised that she shies away from the deep connection that she has with Cole (who, let's be honest, is a fuckboy at the beginning of the show but who she clearly has a unique & immediate attachment to). She's so vulnerable that she latches onto the "safe" brother who makes her feel relatively normal again. He offers comfort & stability, which is exactly what you need when you feel lost, alone & untethered. She can't afford to be hurt again & that's what Cole represents/threatens - especially because of the way he treats other girls. When Cole asks her why she's with Alex, she doesn't say it's because she likes Alex more, but rather cites Cole's behaviour towards other women.

These boys are also forms of distraction from her grief. And to add to the mix, she's only 15 years old. What hormonal teenager hasn't been confused or made stupid, rash decisions that they regret? I'm 33 years old and I'm still making mistakes and cringing from things I said & did a month ago, a day ago, an hour ago. It's really obvious that her attraction to Cole continues percolating throughout the show until he does something so meaningful/thoughtful that she can't ignore her feelings any longer. And what he does for her is especially touching because it's so inherently related to her loss & the absence of her family. Throughout the show, Cole is the only one she really opens up to about her family; how much she misses them & her home. He understands her in a way that others don't because she won't let them in in the same way. He truly sees her. They challenge each other. And while these are beautiful parts about falling in love, they can also be extremely frightening because there's nowhere to hide.

I don't even blame the parents for not noticing what is truly going on (although I think Katherine has an idea). Teenagers are renowned for being secretive (not to mention that the adults are also dealing with much of their own stress). I actually really like the scenes that she has with Katherine. I think that they have an understanding. Katherine is still getting to know Jackie & there's no way that she'll ever come close to replacing her mother. It just doesn't work like that. People aren't interchangeable.

It's also important to note that Jackie's whole shtick & manner of coping is to have a veneer of being "fine". I think that she's worried that if she shatters the illusion, she'll just fall apart again. She's barely holding it together. Particularly at the start of the show, she's just going through the motions & existing. The messy but loving (albeit not in the very, very beginning) environment of the Walter household is what's keeping her afloat. By the end (she even says this), she finally feels like she belongs. She has meaningful relationships with the whole Walter family & extended clan, & the reason that she leaves is because she knows how royally she's fucked up. She's overwhelmed & scared - fearful of her own roiling emotions & how she's exacerbated the rift between Alex & Cole.

Yes, you could call her hypocritical because Cole "stealing" Paige (She's not an object, so let's check that language. She is a person & has agency) is one of the main things that Jackie repeatedly holds against him (& uses as an excuse for keeping him at a distance). But she definitely realises this, which is why she runs away. She knows that she's acted against her own morals.

This is a very long post, but my ultimate point is that people should have a little more compassion. Grief is not a linear process & life is not simply black & white - there are vast shades of grey in between. People can make "bad" choices & redeem themselves. Are we meant to define people by one ill-thought-out/passion-based/heat-of-the-moment decision that they made as a teenager when they were severely traumatised? I think that forgiveness is a better option & that people should be allowed to grow, change & learn from their mistakes. Season 2 is still on its way, remember?

#my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #jackie howard #jackiecole #cole walter #nikki rodriguez #noah lalonde #grief #dealing with grief

[dolphin1812]

Everything about this chapter is so painful.

I think there’s a bit of an implied judgment of Fantine in Hugo’s use of the term “coquetry” to describe her pride in her beauty, but it’s still devastating to watch her lose that when it’s the one thing she still had that brought her joy (not including the memory of Cosette, which is necessarily bittersweet because of their separation). In a previous chapter, it was stated that Fantine loved to brush her hair. Watching her lose that, then, isn’t sad because she’s no longer beautiful; it’s sad because she can’t do one of the few things that made her happy in a life of misery.

Of course, cutting off her hair wasn’t the first appearance-related sacrifice Fantine made for Cosette. When she left her daughter with the Thénardiers, it was mentioned that while Cosette was dressed in fine clothes, Fantine herself was dressed very simply. She had enjoyed beautiful clothing as well when she was with Tholomyès, but when she realized she couldn’t clothe both herself and her daughter, she prioritized Cosette. However, as Fantine said with her hair in this chapter, there’s a way back from that. Hair grows back; clothes can be bought again. And even though she can’t afford to put in the same attention to her appearance, she still cares. For instance, after cutting off her hair, Fantine covers her head with small caps that still make her look nice. It’s not the same as having her hair, which makes her happy through its beauty and through the relaxing ritual of brushing it, but it is a small thing that brings her comfort.

Her teeth, as she points out, are a permanent loss. She lost her hope with them. I think it’s very telling that what causes Fantine the most pain isn’t the direct suffering of poverty; it’s the loss of hope and joy. The long hours of work and her constantly shrinking salary are awful. But they’re not as bad as knowing that her lack of money is keeping her from seeing Cosette. Or that she’ll never be considered beautiful again because she’s missing her front teeth. When she was poor and could still hope to have these things again, she was able to manage to some extent; she wore her caps, she’d think about seeing Cosette someday, and she’d push herself to get through the day. Now, Fantine continues to work for Cosette’s sake, but she doesn’t do any of the small things that made her happy. Her caps are now dirty, and her linens aren’t mended either “from lack of time or from indifference.” The physical suffering of poverty (hunger, cold, etc) and its emotional consequences have blended together to push her into absolute despair.

It’s interesting how Hugo links her suffering to the prison system as well:

“She sewed seventeen hours a day; but a contractor for the work of prisons, who made the prisoners work at a discount, suddenly made prices fall, which reduced the daily earnings of working-women to nine sous.”

Fantine’s salary has always been low,  but the abuse of prisoners is an excuse to drive it even lower, illustrating the interconnectedness of these systems.

#les mis letters #lm 1.5.10 #fantine

[allofmytears]

So I was doodling the prophecy seven--as one does--and when I got to Piper i was thinking about Jason describing Piper's hair as "cut choppy and uneven," at the beginning of the lost hero. Now, usually when i see interpretations of Piper, she's got really layered, shoulder length hair, but for some reason I decided to try drawing her with nearly fully sheared hair, and afterwards, I was staring at her and just...thinking about the long, beautifully maintained double braids that Cherokee women wear. And what exactly would make Piper chop her hair off with safety scissors rather braid it.

.....So I'm gonna do small character analysis on Piper and the hypothetical hair journey she could have gone on over the course of the Heroes of Olympus series, as she learned to accept her heritage as both a young Cherokee woman, and a daughter of Aphrodite. (sketches pending)

First, I'm gonna posit some reasons why Piper may cut her hair. (Disclaimer: I am not Cherokee. This is just me ruminating on Piper Mclean the HoO character. I am not qualified to speak with authority on Indigenous experiences.)

Soon after we are introduced to Piper, she is harassed by girls in her class about being indigenous. Piper defends herself, and it is obvious that she faces this kind of bigotry a lot. She's not ashamed of being Cherokee, but it is something she's harassed about, which may have made her unwilling to fully embrace any Cherokee traditions, in order to protect herself.

Physical and emotional distance from her father may have manifested as distance from his culture. Losing touch with her father may have meant she never even learned about Cherokee braids, and it never crossed her mind to grow her hair out. Alternatively, Piper acts out in order to get her father's attention, which is a major part of her narrative arc in the lost hero. Cutting off her hair may have been one of those attempts. It just came with the added symbolism of cutting her off from her heritage.

She rejects the standards of feminine beauty set by others, and purposefully goes against the grain as a means of protest. Piper is very uncomfortable being a child of Aphrodite, as the culture of the Aphrodite cabin is the exact opposite of Piper's identity.

So at the beginning of the lost hero, Piper's hair would be short, to symbolize her torn relationship with her father, AS WELL AS her non-existent relationship with her mother. When she receives the blessing of Aphrodite, her hair grows into one huge braid that crowns her head, along with golden laurels--veerrry greek. But Piper is horrified by Aphrodite's claim, and bears the blessing as if it were a curse. It just wasn't her. As the blessing fades, the braid falls over her shoulder, as depicted in the cover art, and that is how she faces the Boreads. Aaaaaand she speaks french. At this point, the braid does not represent her father's heritage, but her mother's. You could. you could call it a f. a french braid--*gets shot*

*revives immediately* eventually, the blessing wears off entirely, and her short hair with the "little braids down the sides," returns. Piper is back to representing only herself, rather than having her identity eclipsed by her mother's claim. However, over the course of the rest of the first book, Piper heals her bond with her dad, and reinterprets love and beauty--her mother's heritage--to better suit who Piper is. I think that over time, along with these developments, her hair would start to grow out, and she just,,,wouldn't cut it anymore.

The rest of Piper's character arc over the series revolves around her coming into her power as a child of Aphrodite. In an ideal world, a little more time could have been spent developing her relationship with her Cherokee heritage, but she also straight up leaves America, so geographically it just would have been really hard for Rick to manage that i think. But what I'm trying to get at here--and this is where I'm really getting into headcanon territory--her hair grows basically in accord with her power and understanding of her heritage. It's basically Blessing of Aphrodite 2: Electric Boogaloo, except its just a slightly increased rate of hair growth.

By the end of Blood of Olympus (and I mean the very end), Piper finally weaves her hair--nearly as long as her torso--into two braids, shiny and sleek and strong, decorated with feathers of valor. And, well--that just seems like it would be really satisfying.

So yeah, that's my hypothetical hair journey for Piper. I think an argument could be made for a couple different prophecy seven kids getting a hair journey--Hazel and Jason come to mind--but I'm gonna leave that to somebody else. Tag me if you write one.

#piper mclean #heroes of olympus

[rexxdjarin]

This can be for any clone because most are like this: boobs turn their brain off. Just flash your man and whatever he was saying is completely lost.

Oh absolutely YES. you figure the clones were surrounded by their almost exclusively male identifying brothers on Kamino for their entire upbringing. Sure they learn about women. But they have never seen or met any until they move to wherever their unit is stationed.

SO when they actually see women, especially ones they’re attracted to, for the first time out and about they’re probably so fucking star struck. And that never gets tiring to them. Ever. The female form is a dream to them.

Personally I like the idea of Gregor, who has a reputation of being so goddamn smooth and suave and funny, being absolutely stopped dead in his tracks by you….

Gregor and a few of his men are hanging out at their usual table at 79s. You’ve been seeing each other for months now. There’s no part of you he hasn’t seen by now. But you still love surprising him and getting the one up on your self-proclaimed suavest clone in the GAR boyfriend.

You had a bet going to see how long you could go without sex before one of you breaks. Whoever breaks the other first has to buy the whole squad drinks for a night. Gregor was insistent that he could easily joke his way into your pants in a single night.

But you? Oh there was no way in hell you were going to lose. And you knew exactly how you were going to do it. Gregor couldn’t resist any part of you physically. He just couldn’t. It’s like your body could stun him worse than any blaster could. So you made your plan and waited for just the right moment to strike.

He was joking and laughing at the table, telling a long story and entertaining a batch of shiny’s. You exchanged glances at each other every so often; you unbuttoning your shirt a little more every time he looked over and him flexing his biceps unnecessarily or running his hand through his slicked back dark hair. Which you did love.

But finally he’d been getting to the height of the story, knocking back a fresh bottle of Kork and really riling up all the boys around him. From your place behind the bar you saw your opportunity. Most of the other tables had gotten up to rush to talk to the newly arriving 212th.

You scanned around you, ensuring that no one was looking and waited for Gregor’s eyes to flick back toward you. You ran your fingers up underneath the hem of your shirt and smirked as you thought about how much he’s going to choke up when he realizes you don’t even have a bra on under here. Finally, his eyes pan over to you and you react.

You lift your shirt up over your bare chest and flash him with the set of breasts you were truly blessed with. He freezes in the middle of the punchline, eyes widened enough to allow you to see his pupils darkening from here. The beer he was about to take a sip of spills onto the booth table below him and the boys shout their annoyance at him. He grins sheepishly and his tongue practically lolls out of his mouth at the sight of you.

You smile and cover yourself as quick as you’d flashed him, turning your back to his table and fixing the rest of the drinks he was definitely going to be the one paying for.

Suddenly, an arm is snaking around your waist and your spun around to stare directly at a mischievous and hungry looking Gregor. He pulls your body into his and his eyes do a once over of the shirt you were wearing. His hands run along the hem just as yours did and he chuckles darkly.

“You win.” He mutters, fingertips slowly walking up your torso underneath your top.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” You tease, running your hand over his uncovered bicep. He shook his head, turning on his heels and pulling you forward to follow him. “Where we going baby?”

“I said you win. Now let’s go somewhere more private. You’re gonna have to give me a better view of those two in that little show you put on earlier.” He laughed at his own innuendo and waited for you to curl your arms around his side like usual. “I’ve been told I’m good at uhhh appreciating art like that…”

You roll your eyes and follow after him. You love this absolute clown. Might as well give him what you both want anyways. Screw the bet.

#captain gregor #clone commando gregor #gregor x you #gregor x reader #gregor thots #asks and thots

[cutiejihyo]

3mix au

jeongyeon washes jihyos comfort teddy and jihyo has a breakdown

-🦦

3mix au: comfort

cw//meltdown

jihyo has an owl plushie that was given to her a couple years ago. ever since then, that owl has been one of her only comforts. the poor plush had been through so much and had numerous stains on its soft fabric. after having it for so many years, it was never washed. she slept with it every night and it was always in her arms, never letting go of it. the only time she wouldn’t have the owl with her was when it would be taken away from her as punishment.

after she started living with nayeon and jeongyeon, they soon realized how much comfort the owl plush brought to jihyo. even after they gained the little’s trust, she still would rarely let them take the owl, especially not to wash it. the two women never really thought of washing it, until one day it started to stink a bit too much. after years of love and providing comfort to jihyo, it was due for a wash.

jeongyeon knew it was for the best that it was washed, plus she also knew it wasn’t good for jihyo to hang onto those old memories, especially with all of the trauma she endured before. somehow, she was able to get the plushie from jihyo without any tears.

she put the plushie in the washing machine, with very little fragrance-free detergent. as she turned the low cycle on, she started to hear jihyo whine from down the hallway. jeongyeon quickly made it back to where the little was, immediately picking her up and bouncing jihyo in her arms.

“what’s wrong my sweet girl?” jeongyeon asked, knowing she was probably upset due to the disappearance of her beloved plushie. “m-mama!!” she sobbed, pointing to where she saw jeongyeon take the plush. “mr. owl is on a trip, he’ll be back soon okay darling?” she made up a story to attempt to comfort the sobbing little.

jihyo wasn’t having it. she wanted her owl back right away, not later! jihyo’s sobs got louder, eventually getting the attention of nayeon, who ran to see what was going on. “why is my baby so upset?” she pushed jihyo’s hair back and planted a kiss on her forehead. “i’ll tell you later, can you help me comfort her?” jeongyeon asked, starting to slightly panic. nayeon nodded, immediately trying to make jihyo laugh in some way.

—

after an hour, nothing worked. the little was inconsolable. she wanted nothing but her owl, which had made its way to the dryer. jihyo was getting exhausted from crying so much, her loud sobs turning into smaller whimpers. nayeon and jeongyeon were exhausted too, taking turns holding her when the other’s arms went numb.

“your owl will be back soon, i promise sweetheart” jeongyeon rubbed the little’s back, her arms starting to lose feeling in them once again. jihyo felt somewhat betrayed by jeongyeon, after gaining so much of her trust, she lost a little bit that day.

the loud beep of the dryer went off, and nayeon almost sprinted to the laundry room. she grabbed the medium sized owl and went back to jihyo and jeongyeon. jihyo’s eyes, which were almost closed, immediately went wide once she saw her precious owl. her arms went out, reaching for her plush.

after an hour and a half of hearing the little’s painful sobs, there was peace. jihyo was reasonably upset with jeongyeon for the rest of the day, clinging onto her plush and glaring at anyone who dares to touch it. she couldn’t stay mad at her mama for long though, going back to being all over her the very next day.

#kpop agere #sfw agere #agere #age regression #twice agere #gigi writes 🦝 #twice #little jihyo #jihyo

[its-a-me-lia]

A Siren's Call

LA!BuggyXFem!OC

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7

MDNI

Warnings: IDEK anymore!

Ummm So like enjoy the show

🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸

Have you ever wondered what it was like to beg for mercy and scream at the top of your lungs, but no one hears you? Your shouting, your throat hurting, stinging as the sounds get lost in the echoes of the wind that’s not even there? Haunted by the ghosts of those who have fought and tried to be heard before you? Seeing death and life? Rebirth after rebirth. No end in sight, thinking when was this all going to end? The constant terrors, and fears running within your aching bones, breathing in a breath and hoping it was your last?

The world felt like it was falling apart, she could see the sky crumbling down. The ground cracking open and the fiery pits of hell blazing out, wanting to swallow her whole. Ava didn't know how it happened, or when it happened. All she knew was that Buggy was severely injured, the crew of young men and women laid weak, covered in what could’ve been their blood. She didn’t know what she could do. She wanted to cry, she wanted to go to each and every one of them.

Why did it turn into a bloodbath?

Buggy’s crew had lost a few members, she saw the strawhats limp towards the man in question. Jeremy had laid slain on the sand. Zoro had given him his last blow. The look on the boy's face, was of one who has taken their first life. That was expected. Ava allowed herself to move towards them, there were times where Jeremy had come to attack her. She looked at them and shook her head. 

No words came out, she tried. The clouds in the sky started to break apart, she could see that the sun was setting. To her, it felt like it was constant darkness. Does this mean that it was over? That she was finally free? But at what cost? Lives were taken in her honor, they didn’t deserve this. They all deserved better. Their lives were not worth hers. 

She knelt down at the side of Buggy, it amazed her that he was able to be so beaten down like this. How can you cut someone who was able to put himself into pieces? Slice him, not all the way, just enough to not make him lose a limb. She stroked his head, his bandana far from his head, sand getting into his beautiful long blue hair. Even injured, he was still so beautiful.She couldn’t deny that. 

Buggy looked up at her and touched her face, “We did it Ava. You’re free.” 

His voice was more raspy than it normally was. She gave him a sad smile. “But at what cost? You lost men, the strawhats are injured. Buggy, you’re bleeding.”

“For you baby, I would bleed dry.” He coughed. God he was so corny, and yet she loved that about him. 

Shaking her head not to encourage him, Ava stroked his cheek and leaned down kissing his nose gently. “Be careful what you say.”

“Never.” Buggy wasn’t lying. He would burn the world down and terrorize any town for this woman. He had never in a million years would think he would fight for anyone else but himself. It was selfish though, just for him to do this for her. For his own selfish needs to get her to like him. But he didn’t have to do that. She would love him anyways, even if circumstances were different. She would always find him. In any universe. 

The strawhats made their way over to the two, Luffy kneeled down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking. But you deserved to be saved. Everyone deserves to be saved. Yeah we got beaten and bruised, so did you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“H-how did you know about that?” She frowned.

“Captain asshat over there decided that it’ll be in his monologue of how you deserved to be treated as trash because he found you as trash, and so on. Blah blah blah.” Sanji was the one to speak, she looked up at the man. “Asshole deserved what was coming to him.”

Ava looked at all of them, her heart felt light and she let out a sigh that turned into a sob. She couldn’t control the crying, they really were fighting for her. Listened to that mans words and decided that he didn’t deserve to breathe another breath. Walk another step. She couldn’t help it. She hugged Luffy

“We protect our friends.” He hugged her back. 

Friends. She barely knew them, and she was already considered their friends. She liked that a lot. This feeling was different, she felt different. The sunset was different this time. It was setting on the last day of her old life, and when the sun rises tomorrow. It’ll be the beginning of her new life. 

After getting everything straightened up, and gathered the bodies to set aflame to. Ava was handed the match and she watched them burn. She watched the bodies that had died fighting for and against her glow in the bond. She turned and saw the crew carrying Buggy onto the ship. She walked back and let them take him to his room. Telling them it was okay, she would take it from there. She would take care of the man that had taken care of her. 

She cleaned his wounds and stroked his hair out of his face. “You’re so beautiful.” 

She chuckles. “You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true. Did you know that?” He smiled. “God, you should know that.”

She shook her head. “You’re a bit delirious, you should get some rest.”

“Don’t do that.” He grabbed her hand. “Stop thinking that you’re not. Because you are. God you are so goddamn beautiful it breaks my heart that you think you deserve less, when in reality, you deserve the damn world to be groveling and pleading to have you by their side.”

She nodded and blinked. She sucked on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it.”

“Baby, you better get used to it. I will be saying it to you every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not with me, or if I’m not around. You will remember that you will always be beautiful.”

She laughed and pressed her forehead against his. Kissing his nose again. “I guess I will start now.” 

Reaching up he pulled her closer and kissed her. It was messy and almost like they have never kissed anyone before. Their teeth crashed, and sucked on each other lips. Ava gripped her fingers in his hair, he sat up even in pain he didn’t want to stop. 

They kissed for what seemed like ever and she tilted her head to the side. “I think I love you.”

“Well, I don’t think I love you. I know for a fact that I do.” Buggy pulled away and looked at her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to say it, and get scared you’d run off.” 

“You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Even with the way the day had ended, Ava couldn’t wait to start on a new adventure with Buggy. It wouldn’t be a sad ending to her life, but the ending to her old one. Her new life was full of journey, and piracy. She would grow to be more wanted than Buggy, and he would just laugh and say that he had no say in that. She did what she needed to do. He would walk along side her and just be the proud boyfriend of his girl. 

Ava, the Siren Pirate. That’s what Buggy called her. Luring people to her with her calls. And god damn she was good at that. 

But that’s a story for another time.

🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸☠️🌼☠️🌸

We are headed for the end, and i didn't think that i would be writing a short novel. This is what I have become to love and I am so happy!

#buggy the clown #jeff ward #one piece #jeff ward buggy #opla #opla buggy #buggy one piece #buggy thoughts #captain buggy #buggy x oc

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Greetings, fair author of the arts! I have a request because testing is making me weak [ oof nursing 🤧 ] and I have the flu [ double oof ] I wanted to request something new; so I tend to ask for family stuff, but what about a story that follows the child of Mysaria and Daemon who in this telling was born on the narrow sea, instead of Myseria losing the babe. But, since the fling was a while ago the child is a little older than Aemond, so like 22. The kid can be boy or girl and icing on the cake if they are infatuated with Alicent, looking up to her for her strength and poise, maybe sneaking away from their Spy Master mother to go visit her in the garden where she and Rhaenyra would read.

Maybe Alicent likes them too?

Greetings back my muse @freelyunlikelykingdom of my inspiration and wonderful ideas. First of all sorry that you had to wait a little longer I had some stress and had to catch up in some other school things. After that I wish you a speedy recovery and hope you recover well from the flu. Maybe or I hope this story with a very interesting and inspiring story will bring you some rest, recovery and comfort. Have fun reading this also applies to all readers others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Green Flames

warning : hurt/comfort , angst , tw implied rape , soulmates basically , fluff , hope with a semi good ending , big comfort

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mistake. He knew that he was a mistake since his birth. A bastard or none. So it was none in the words of some and in the words of some others he was none. In the eyes of his all-seeing mother he was a blessing, a prince and yet at the same time his own mistake.

In the eyes of his father he was a mistake from the beginning. A mistake that could have happened but should have been destroyed. His father is a prince, Prince Daemon Targaryen, the brother of the king.

His mother is a former whore, but one of the most feared, loving and valuable women when it came to information. And he himself did not know. He had no real name. His mother, when she loved him, called him Prince and Dragon.

His father Bastard, and Flame. But most called him the winged worm. The best of both. But his legitimacy was something that had been open for a long time and still was. Daemon had not officially married Mysaria, at least not according to Viserys, but the marriage still existed.

Which made his son the prince and also heir to the throne. Something that the boy wanted more and more with time and yet resisted. He had to realize that any name, title, birth and fame had a price. Starting with his mother.

Mysaria remembered the look on Daemon's face when she told him about her pregnancy in a letter. How he rode up on Caraxes, the red dragon screamed angrily and spat fire, and the prince grabbed her by the arm. ,,Kill it!" he demanded, and at that moment she knew that she had never seen the real dragon until now.

What had been a game for him was now apparently deadly serious for him. But why what had changed his mind. ,,It's because of her," his mother had always said. When the white worm realized that the prince had lost his dragon heart to his niece.

He had put his plan into action, he had chosen his way through the flames and his mind was made up. To serve the true queen Rhaenyra and rule by her side. Anything was better than those leeches of Hightower winning. But a bastard got in the way. A realization that she and her child had to accept.

For as long as he could remember, either the lands beyond the straits were his home, the ships or King's Landing. He knew it no other way. Even in the royal palace he was rarely if ever only to see his uncle the king who received him surprisingly warmly.

But he could not blame him. He, the winged worm, still looked more like a Targaryen than his aunt's children.

He had his father's light hair and his eyes were a dark violet, not as bright as his father's. A loss due to his mother. A loss of his mother and his skin seemed as light as the snow. Only a single strand of black hair trailed down his light hair. ,,The kiss of my love," his mother had always said.

But even so he was not lacking in everything. It even went so far that he was supposed to get the dragon egg of his dead uncle Baelon. But he never did. ,,They took it away from us, you could have flown," he heard his mother say. And her white clothes blew through the air as if her anger was being unleashed.

She had done this more than once. She grabbed him and yelled at him for his birth, why he didn't have brighter eyes, only not to find the blame on herself. Pushed him to the ground and shouted that he could have been a prince or even a king.

But all he wanted was someone to love him. His father was cold, his flames were icy. His mother loved and hated him, he was not information, no he was a threat to her business. But all this had been going on for such an incredibly long time.

That his heart was torn between the throne, his family, his origin, his love. He had known the love early it was horrible when he heard the ringing of the yellow bag. How the door opened and closed and the golden coins were thrown carelessly beside him on the bed. These were the worst years of his life.

He was not a prince, not a bastard. He was the son of a whore who continued her trade. Something he was glad to see ended by his father and uncle. But this was also paid with a sum of money. Everything was settled with money and power.

But this was years ago and now he was twenty-two years old. He was an adult man and still a bastard. Brushing a long strand of hair behind his ear, he rose from his windowsill in the large living area above the brothel.

An apartment the crown had given him to be something of his mother on the floor below him. His eyes fell on the ring on his finger. A golden ring one of his few possessions. It showed a dragon wrapped around the hightower from old town. ,,Alicent," he murmured, thinking of the queen.

He knew that she was an old friend of his aunt Rhaenyra, maybe even more depending on the rumors. She was now a queen, powerful and beautiful. Almost like me he ventured the thought and was almost afraid his mother would rush in and drive these thoughts out of him. But that was not the reason why he was awake so early. He had to and wanted to go into the castle. A sword fight with Aeomond, the second son of the queen.

He was a few years younger than himself, but the only one who could keep up with him. That was the only thing his father had taught him besides his worthlessness. Sword fighting. He was one of the best and had already defeated Aegon the second countless times and Ser Criston had to fight with the younger one.

Whereby the children of Rhaenyra had hardly a chance. Taking his eyes off the ring he slowly went down to the stairs. He saw the white robe of his mother counting the money from the previous day as usual.

He knew that she would never let him enter the castle so freely. But that was the attraction, he made sure one last time that his mother did not notice him for the moment before he hurried to his window.

There he pulled out the many knotted clothes from his dresser drawer before he lowered them and tied them to the dresser. Gods please let this hold he thought as he slowly lowered himself down the side of the house.

He was only a few meters from the ground when he suddenly lost his footing. His clothes had come off and with a silent scream he went dully to the ground. ,,What are you doing up there?" he heard the loud question of his mother, who had heard the noise and was coming up the stairs.

But he had no time to get up from the ground and go to the two horses they had. Another gift from the king was a horse, a white mare. He swung himself on his horse which he named Seasmoke. Equaling the handsome dragon of Laenor Velaryon.

He crashed into the side and could still hear the screams and shouts of his mother who tried to hold him back. But it was too late and with a broad smile he galloped towards the castle. Finally a piece of freedom he thought happily and rode as fast as Seasmoke would allow towards the castle.

It took him a few minutes to ride his horse into the courtyard, where he was met with either disrespect or disparaging looks. ,,Winged Worm, you're finally here," he heard Aemond say, moving away from the blacksmith in the courtyard and going to his nephew.

Daemon's son got off his horse and offered his hand to Aemond, who ignored it. ,,I'm not here to listen to your chicaneries" said the elder and put his hand on the sword hilt. ,,But a bastard doesn't have a prince's title," said the one-eyed man, grabbing him by the collar before pushing him away. ,,Your king welcomes my visit," he hissed to himself before walking after his relative. The two walked to the training ground.

He saw Ser Criston, the Queen's bodyguard, and Viserys with his wife Alicent standing above them on a height, looking at the younger ones. ,,Your Grace," he said to the king and queen, bowing. ,,Welcome back, my nephew, it is a pleasure to see you," said Viserys, not rising from his chair. He knew that his uncle was too old to be called physically strong.

But his spirit was still responsive. He recognized and was happy about the visit of his brother's son. He was more happy about him than about his own children. His gaze lingered on Alicent, who had often spoken with the queen.

She was a remarkable woman, different from his mother, more loving and yet as equal as he. She seemed to understand exactly what the other needed and wanted. Security, safety and affection. ,,Worm, come on," he heard Aemond say, grabbing his sword and moving to a secure stance.

The older man drew his sword and looked at his ring again for a moment before he saw Aemond's sword approaching. He blocked it with ease and the two swords clashed. ,,Show what you can do" he heard the hiss of Aemond pushing him away.

He knew he had nothing to prove to the younger man. He knew he was hated by the Targaryens, Velaryons and Hightowers. They all hated him because of his father's gender.

He was a threat and a bastard at the same time. He lunged and struck from below, forcing Aemond to retreat so that the blade did not slide up his own sword to his hands. He knew that the younger prince had a sore spot. His eye.

He tried to make the younger one turn. He struck with such force that the one-eyed man had trouble keeping the sword from him. With a well-aimed kick, he knocked Aemond to the ground, but gave him no time. He aimed at the blind side of Aemond, but he had underestimated the younger man.

The prince rose with a speed the older had not seen coming. He tried to dodge the sword, but only almost succeeded. He felt the slight cut on his forearm. Not his first and not his last. Only one flaw that would not please his mother. ,,The purer the more valuable" he heard his mother's words, a painful feeling.

However, the memories were all the more painful. But that was enough to let his guard down for a moment. Aemond pushed him to the ground, towering over him, looking too much like his uncle, the father of the wingless worm.

The cold flame of his father, the blows, the coins of his mother, the touches of the strangers. Everything came back. He let go of his sword completely in his fear and looked at the one-eyed no he looked at his father fearfully.

The sword blinded him and Aemond threw it down. ,,Aemond stop it!" his mother screamed before the king's voice thundered through the courtyard. ,,That's enough Aemond, go to your room," the king shouted and the second youngest son gave the older one a withering look before throwing the sword aside and disappearing into the castle. But it was neither his father nor his mother who helped him up.

It was Alicent Hightower, the queen. ,,Come on, I'll help you," he heard her soft voice before she gently pulled him behind her. He knew what it must have looked like to everyone else. A bastard who had the queen's devotion. He wanted to break free, to say something, but he could not.

The touch of her hand she was not angry that he had pushed her son to the ground. She was not lustful like the suitors. She was just nice and friendly. ,,The garden," he murmured in confusion, looking at the large werewood tree to which she led him.

Slowly they both settled down, leaning their shoulders against each other, but nothing more. They didn't need to do that, but both of them seemed to be too eloquent for that. ,,My queen...I am sorry that I kicked your son. I have caused trouble, forgive me" he said and was about to rise, not knowing what else to do.

He watched Alicent out of the corner of his eye as her lips showed a gentle smile. Her fingers ran over her green dress but there was sadness in her eyes. ,,You were afraid," she said suddenly, but did not look at him.

A painful smile came to his lips as he held his cut. ,,You have seen it...you must have felt what I have felt" he replied and he saw the small nod from her side. ,,Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and yet powerless" she philosophized. Hesitantly he reached for her hand, he felt her twitch as she touched his bloody fingers.

But she did not hit him, not like his mother when he stained her robes. ,,I know that we are similar, and I don't mean my status, forgive me. No, I mean in our appearance, in our past, in our devotion," he said and he felt his breath shake. I'm not going to lie to her and see what's going on, he thought, knowing that she was not having an easy time.

He himself was one of the first children of the royal family, next to Aegon. But he would never be so powerful. ,,Of the sex, of the night, of the money...I-I admire you" she admitted and wanted to withdraw from his grasp. ,,Please don't...don't leave me like my mother or father. Your admiration I don't return out of loyalty to the king...no I admire you for your power and your attitude towards everything of the kingdom's division you are still so strong" he admitted and this time he wanted to break away. ,,Is that true?" she asked, hope in her dark eyes. ,,Do you believe the words of a bastard?" he asked, but she held him tightly. A soft sad smile came to her lips. He had decided that he was a bastard prince, a gold-wrapped dragon, and yet the son of a whore.

The thorn in the side of his father's family. He was a mistake. ,,You may be a golden worm on the outside, you may be hated for it. No, you are more than that, you are a stone green dragon that gives grace to kings, and I give you power that you execute. You are my friend, my lover, my sword, my executing power" she replied and slowly rose. ,,What will you do now?" she asked and saw him standing in front of her. ,,I will inherit nothing, my mother is a whore, my father hates me, the king makes me and yet he can give me nothing, the children hate me even more...I want to help you, I want to finally be the dragon I deserve" he said and drew his sword. The metal gleamed in the sun before he knelt down in front of Alicent.

He looked at her on his muse, the woman he admired. ,,You are my friend, my lover, my healer, my commanding power. You Alicent are my queen, so let me help you, let us together give each other what we want. Let us together strike down all those who have wronged us" he said and felt her hand softly next to his cheek.

She did not touch him, she knew why. He knew it even more. ,,Rise, my dragon," she said and he rose. She put one hand on his that was on the hilt of the sword. While her other went to her ring on his finger. ,,May they perish in our vengeance in the green flames" she said and he nodded in agreement.

Before Alicent kissed the sword and he the ring. A covenant of shared pain Alicent stained and used by Viserys only because of her lust. The younger of the suitors of King's Landing.

No parents to support them at least not as they should. Both questioned. They complemented each other so well because they both knew what the other had been through. But the support they gave each other was a power that could shake anyone.

The former queen Alicent Hightower reported that the master survived the war and was imprisoned. But what happened to her sword, her dragon, there were legends. The prince's bastard would outbid his father. He outbid every targaryen.

At the beginning of the war he had won in numerous battles for the green took over the corn trolls of several armies. But what made him most famous. Was that the bastard was not a wingless worm.

He rode into the war on Cannibal the unrideable dragon, bigger than Vhagar and it was true. The lands of the black of the false queen burned green. The color green was the last thing Rhaenys Targaryen saw before he burned her.

He was not a Targaryen, he was a green one. He was the man, the son, he was the hope that Alicent Hightower always had. He was the true dragon. He had found his purpose...until it was taken from him.

Killed by his own father in a duel in the air. ,,I am proud of you my son" Daemon is said to have said when the two dragons fell to the ground and the two riders died pierced by each other's swords.

In the end he was not a bastard, he should go down in the books as. The greatest dragon rider in history and the true prince who was promised.

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