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bellofthemeadow · 3 months

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Dawn Ends the Night | Chapter 4

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 5.5k

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: After Aemond saved you, you are presented to court.

Notes: New character unlocked! Hello you guys, I am so happy to be back with a new chapter, its not necessarily a filler chapter, but it is definitely a "move the plot along" chapter. Can you believe that we are still on the same day the Lady Dayne arrive to King's Landing?! Sorry for the snail's pace. but I really like to dig deep into the psyche of the characters. It should start moving a bit faster now.

ALSO, omg you guys were so kind with all the love you gave me, and I am so happy that you are enjoying this story 🥰 Your comments and reblogs are fueling this story, so thank you so much xxx

Unto the story, LMK what you all thinks and if there are some things you would like to see, feel free to tell me 💜💜💜

Love you all

Taglist: @duds31 , @snh96, @lol-im-done, @heavenly1927, @whimsywilde , @queen-123s-posts , @httyd-marauders , @singhfae ,

The Iron Throne

Perros despised King’s Landing he hated everything about it from its oppressive heat to the humidity that was always thick with a constant, putrid stench that reeked of death and desperation. Having lived most of his youth on the streets of Sunspear, he had thought himself familiar with poverty and misery of those of lesser means. Yet, after just a day navigating the Captial’s streets, he realized how mistaken he had been; even the most destitute street urchin in Dorne seemed to live like a king compared to those in Flea Bottom.

As the evening sky started to fall and dim on their first day in the city, Perros was dumbstruck that his lord would still consent to leave his only daughter to languish in such a dismal place. Perros had always felt a close connection to his young lady. He had after all, witnessed the young lady’s youth and had watched her grow from a little sapling to an elegant and beautiful cherry tree. He had even been present at her birth, and Perros was certain he was the first outside the immediate family to cradle you after you entered the world –screaming and crying face scrunched up and as red as a little tomato. Perros still vividly remembered how small and fragile you had looked in his large, scarred hands. The future Lady of Starfall, your father had declared. Perros had also been there for your first steps, the first time you went in the Dornish Desert, the first time you had swum in the Torrentine. Perros had seen all of the work and expectations placed on your young shoulders as the future ruling lady of Starfall – and he had seen it all snatched away after the birth of Gerris.

Perros could still remember when life was simpler, in those days he would follow you around Starfall, ensuring your safety – running after you as you would try to evade your tutors, twirling on your small pudgy legs. Perros may not have been your father by blood, but his love for you was no less than that of a true parent and he had always taken immense pride in your achievements and when your birthright was passed over in favor of your younger brother, Perros had felt such a deep outrage. So much so that he had been willing to take arms in your name. Despite his respect for your father, he could never fully reconcile with the decision to favor Westerosi customs over the Dornish practice of absolute primogeniture, which held no bias against gender in inheritance and would have seen you on the starry seat. This injustice had always kindled a flame of discontent in his heart, and he had vowed that if your father would not, he would always do right by you.

And today he failed you.

When your party had just arrived in the city, like when you were a child, you had managed to elude Perros' vigilant watch. He had been so preoccupied with surveying potential threats around the carriage that he hadn't noticed your discreet departure. The mere thought of what could have happened had the one-eyed prince not intervened sent shivers down his spine. He shuddered at the possibilities and although he could not help but find the boy an arrogant sniveling prince that was unworthy of even licking the ground you walked on; he was nonetheless grateful for the boy’s intervention.

Only a few hours had passed since the turmoil at the market, and following the Queen and the Hand's directive, The Dayne retinue had taken some time to recuperate and prepare for the formal introduction at court. Much to Perros’s amusement, you had taken much of that brief respite to caring for the scruffy young boy you had rescued from the market. You diligently scrubbed him clean, his skin eventually taking on a healthy glow. Later, after Prince Aemond had insisted on being led to your chambers, you even spent part of the afternoon in his company, a fact that Perros found utterly unbecoming of royal decorum.

He stood guard, silently observing as the prince awkwardly assisted in managing the boy. Aemond held Davos firmly, yet his stiffness and apparent disconnection from the warmth of your smile struck Perros as wholly unsuitable for someone of your worth. In the guard’s eyes, the prince's rigid demeanor and aloofness did not befit someone worthy of your affection or regard.

After an hour, Perros had gruffly shuffle the dragon prince outside of the room, refusing to listen to his backward grumbling or your insistence that he could stay. While you were changing? Absolutely not. Perros had remained firm, you needed time to prepare before meeting the rest of the dragons and their Hightower kin. Snakes. Snakes wearing dragon skins, but snakes nonetheless, Perros thought.

Following Prince Aemond's departure, you entrusted Davos and your brother Gerris to the capable hands of your trusted maid, the same one who had taken care of you alongside Perros’ watchful eyes. Athna, with her years of experience and her motherly touch, gently herded the two boys, softly silencing their childish protests, away for a much-needed nap. Gerris, though the young heir to Starfall, was still too tender in years to be formally introduced at court and the bond he had swiftly formed with Davos, it seemed already impossible to separate them – the boys had become friends since their introduction earlier in the day and Davos’ presence in the throne room would be deemed inappropriate. For common born lads do not belong at court with well-bred folk, Perros thought, yet he was welcome and regardless of his birth he was the captain of the guard for House Dayne, had been for the past 15 years. Birth mattered less so in Dorne, perhaps the lad could come with them and leave this putrid city behind, Perros pondered, and Lady Dayne could come back with them and they could all forget about this business.

Upon his return to escort, you to the throne room, Perros was met with a vision that nearly brought tears to his eyes. There you were, no longer the little girl who hung unto his legs and begged for stories of the desert, but a captivating beauty with wisdom in her eyes. Your dress, a delicate lilac silk intricately embroidered with stars, hugged your form in a way that highlighted your softness and elegance. It was a sight that filled Perros with immense pride, yet also a twinge of sadness. The young charge he had watched over for so many years had blossomed before his eyes into a dignified lady, ready to step into the world.

"You are a sight for these old eyes, my lady," Perros uttered, his voice quivering with emotions.

You faced Perros with a gentle, self-effacing smile. "You know, after the day's events, you'd think I'd feel more prepared for this. I mean, I barely escaped having my head chopped off in the street," you said with a light, self-deprecating laugh. "And I have even met my betrothed. And surprisingly, I think we might get along well. But I am still so nervous.”

Perros let out a snort at your observation. "That boy should count himself fortunate just to breathe the same air as you, my lady," he remarked.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment. "Oh, please, Ser. Le us not speak ill of him. After all, Aemond is a prince – and a most gracious one at that." You teased.

"A prince of a realm that holds no sway in Dorne," Perros countered dryly.

Your laughter rang out, light and carefree. "You have quite the knack for diplomacy, Ser," you teased.

Perros responded with a half-smile. "My sword is the only diplomat I need."

Your eyes sparkled with mirth. "Perhaps it's best to keep that sort of diplomacy sheathed when we enter the throne room," you suggested with a wink.

Perros let out a soft snort and watched you attentively as you stood before the mirror, expertly arranging your hair under the elegant hairnet your mother had given you, the shiny strands of your hair framing your face with grace.

The room fell into a heavy silence, filled only by the soft rustling of your gown. Perros's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a mix of fondness and concern. His voice, when he finally spoke, was thick with emotion. "My Lady, just give me the word, and I'll whisk you away on the next ship. We can escape to somewhere far from here, away from dragons, from politics. I could take you back to Dorne – to Princess Aliandra. The Martell would look after you!"

You offered him a melancholic smile, "Your loyalty has always been unwavering, ser Perros," you replied gently. "But we both know fleeing is not an option. It never was an option. I love my family too deeply to abandon them. And as for Prince Aemond..." You paused, your gaze lingering on your reflection as you blushed slightly. "He saved my life. Perhaps being his wife won't be the dreadful fate I once imagined."

"A cocky dragonling, that's all he is," Perros grumbled under his breath.

"You have always been overly protective, dear Ser," you said with a soft chuckle. Hugging yourself, you looked thoughtful. "Do you think I can handle it? This life at court?"

Perros met your soft gaze in the mirror, "There's no one more gracious or better prepared for such a task than you, my lady." His voice betrayed a hint of sadness. "Even if it pains me to say it as it means acknowledging how much you've grown."

Your smile was bittersweet, as you let out a breathy laugh. "I remember when you'd carry me back to bed after I'd sneak out to watch the stars on the ramparts."

"I've earned many gray hairs because of you," Perros snorted warmly, "You were a handful, my lady, but you touched my heart. I'd do anything to see you happy."

"I might not find happiness," you mused, "but perhaps I can find contentment."

"That's not enough," Perros insisted softly.

You looked at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what would truly make me happy, Perros?"

He straightened, ready for your command. "Just say the word, my lady."

"I would like you to take care of Davos. Teach him everything you know. I want more for him than the life he's had so far. I do not want him to be alone anymore.”

Perros snorted gruffly "That little Davos, eh? He's a scrawny thing, but with the right care, I suppose he could grow strong. He's got spirit, that one."

You nodded. "He is a fighter; he just needs a chance. And with Gerris already taking a liking to him, I'm sure he shall fit right in with the rest of the family."

Perros raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his voice. "And you think the royal family will just accept a Flea Bottom urchin in their midst?"

You smiled, a hint of mischief in your expression. "Maybe they will have to. I've already spoken to Prince Aemond about it, and he has agreed to discuss it with his mother."

Perros huffed, "And you trust him?"

"He's given me no reason not to trust him," you replied steadily. "He saved my life, Perros. And he seemed genuine about helping Davos."

Perros sighed, the lines on his face deepening with worry. "My lady, your heart is too open, too trusting. It worries me, what others might do with such kindness. You wear this cloak of a ghost, trying to shield yourself, but I see through it.” Perros took a small breath, before softly continuing “Your heart is too large, too exposed. Be cautious, my lady. Don't let them take advantage of your goodness.”

Approaching Perros, you reached out and wrapped your arms around the seasoned guard, holding him tight. "You've always been my rock, Perros. Believe in me a little, will you? You have taught me everything I know after all. " You softly admitted.

Perros returned the hug, his tone laced with a hint of regret. "I only wish I had more time to teach you... But you remember, don't you? How to defend yourself if necessary?"

Your laughter was light at his words, "I don't anticipate the need, Perros, but yes, I remember. Between the ribs to make it hurt, straight to the heart to make it quick.”

He nodded sagely. "And subtly, to leave no trace?"

"I'm not planning on poisoning my betrothed, Perros!" you chuckled, shaking your head.

"Just ensuring you're prepared, my lady," Perros replied protectively.

You smiled warmly. "Thank you, Perros. But let us keep discussions of poison out of these walls, please."

"I'll do my best, my lady," he promised, his expression softening.

The sound of knocking interrupted the moment. "My lady, it's time. The court awaits," called a voice from outside.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. "No backing down now,” you took a deep breath “Time dance with some dragons.”

The grandeur of the Targaryen (or perhaps Hightower?) court was a striking blend of both everything you expected and the unimaginable. Its vastness and opulence were just as you had envisioned – expansive windows casting brilliant light across the room, the pervasive symbols of the Seven adorning the walls, and the hall itself, immense in its scale. Dominating the space was the Iron Throne, a chilling emblem of Aegon the Conqueror's might, forged from the molten swords of a thousand defeated foes.

Yet, as you beheld the throne, a surge of Dornish pride swelled within you. Dorne, after all, had never yielded to the dragonlords. The words of House Martell, "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," resonated with a deeper meaning, but it was your own house, House Dayne, that had historically been the shield of the Torrentine. You remembered the tales of your ancestors, steadfastly repelling invaders, or in times of desperation, slowing their advance to buy precious time for the other houses of Dorne to prepare.

House Dayne had endured much at the hands of the dragons and the Hightowers, but in this moment, amidst the intimidating splendor of the Iron Throne, you felt a sense of covert triumph. Today, it was your family that held a pivotal position of influence, and this knoweldge filled you with quiet confidence as you stood before the throne, the legacy of your house a silent yet potent force at your back.

Upon nearing the foot of the Iron Throne, your attention was inexorably drawn to Prince Aemond. Positioned regally to the right, he presented a stark contrast to the man you had encountered earlier. His silver hair, which had previously hung loosely, now was arranged in an elegant half-updo, lending him an air of refined sophistication. Dressed in what appeared to be the finest black leather, he exuded an aura of princely dignity, enhanced by the presence of a longsword at his hip. With his hands neatly clasped behind his back, he observed your approach with a piercing blue eye, sharp and discerning. Almost predatory.

This frigid version of your intended seemed worlds apart from the one who had awkwardly, yet warmly, helped you with Davos. The raw protectiveness he had displayed in the market was now cloaked behind a facade of cool detachment. Standing there, he seemed carved from marble, exuding an air of untouchable, statuesque grandeur, he appeared as a figure from the legends, the embodiment of a Dragon Lord. Observing him in the shadow of the Targaryen throne, standing tall and imperious, it was easy to believe the tales told by the smallfolk – that the Targaryens were more akin to gods than men. Yet, as you stood there, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. This fearsome Dragon lord, Aemond One-Eyed, was the same man who had been struck by a soapy sponge just hours before. The memory of Aemond, momentarily caught off guard and spluttering with indignation, as Davos and Gerris were cackling with glee had somewhat shattered the formidable image he now presented.

Your gaze swiftly swept past Prince Aemond, landing on the figure seated next to him – from the dark green doublet with the golden pin on his breast, the man could only be Otto Hightower, the hand of the king. Notably absent was the King himself, rumors of the King's failing health had reached Dorne, but to see the throne unoccupied during such a crucial introduction – your presentation as his son’s betrothed and as the first Dornish retinue on Westerosi soil since the Conquest – hinted at a deeper malaise within the realm.

You pondered whether the King's absence played into the Hightowers' favor. With no monarch to potentially disrupt their schemes, Otto Hightower's influence was unmistakably clear – no number of dragons or wildfire would change that fact; the Hightowers ruled here. Otto’s eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours. There was an almost tangible weight to his gaze, as if he were measuring your worth, gauging whether you would be an asset to his plans or an unforeseen hindrance.

Next to the throne, your gaze settled on a woman of sophisticated poise with a cascade of dark auburn hair. She was clad in an exquisite gown of deep green samite, the high neckline accentuating her stately bearing. Her attire was accentuated by ruffles of a darker shade at her wrists, and her neck was adorned with a striking necklace of emeralds and onyx, shaped into the symbol of the Seven-pointed star. This must be Queen Alicent, you reasoned.

Yet, for all her poised appearance, you could discern a subtle undercurrent of anxiety that seemed to ripple beneath her calm facade. It was as if each of her measured movements and serene expressions were carefully orchestrated to mask an inner turmoil that screamed to be released. What mask would you need to wear after your marriage? A face of practiced contentment? Or would you need to seem as cold and lethal as the blades forming the throne, and keep your Dornish warmth to the confine of your husband’s arms? Would he even welcome your warmth, a traitorous voice murmured in your head.

The Hand of the King's voice broke the silence of the court. "It is my privilege to welcome House Dayne to our court. We greet our Dornish brothers and sisters, and the realm rejoices in embracing them back into its fold." The words, spoken with a calculated warmth, hung in the air, but their reception among the courtiers was mixed. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and you could feel the undercurrent of barely veiled disdain for your kin.

As you stood there, your mother's firm grip on your bicep served as a silent reminder of the facade you needed to maintain, while your father's smile, a practiced mask that barely concealed the distaste in his eyes, echoed the sentiments of your own heart.

“Dorne has long sought friendship between our two noble and valiant kingdoms," your father began, his voice smooth and measured. "As lord of house Daynes, whose lineage traces back to the Dawn Age, it is my honor to mend the rifts that have long divided our kin. And given today’s events, perhaps a touch of Dornish wisdom is precisely what this city needs.”

Otto visibly bristled at your father's veiled critique. “Indeed, an unfortunate incident," he conceded, his words tinged with a forced calmness. "Though, it must be said, had your daughter adhered to the expected bearing of a lady—safely ensconced within her carriage—such an unpleasantness might have been averted.”

Your father opened his mouth to respond, but you swiftly interjected, your tone honeyed yet edged with steel. “Or perhaps the crown should offer a timely reminder for the city watch that an overzealous exercise of power is not always necessary or justified."

A collective intake of breath echoed through the room; Otto's face contorted like someone who had sucked on a sour lemon. He quickly masked his reaction, regaining his poise. "Indeed, my lady. A most astute observation. Perhaps you would grace one of our small council meetings with your insights. We would be most delighted to benefit from your wisdom."

The throne room buzzed with suppressed snickers and whispers. Mocking. Mocking you. Mocking your ideas and your lineage, bastards you thought. Meanwhile, you noticed Aemond, his fists clenched in barely contained anger seething next to his grandfather.

With a poised smile that belied the storm brewing within, you replied, "I would welcome such an opportunity, Your Grace. I am heartened by your gracious invitation."

Otto's brow furrowed, readying a sharp retort, but before the words could leave his lips, Queen Alicent smoothly stepped in. "We are indeed relieved that you emerged from the ordeal unharmed, my lady," she began, her voice calm yet carrying across the room. The murmur of courtiers filled the air as she continued. "My son Aemond has spoken highly of your courage, particularly your selfless act in defending a young boy at great risk to yourself." Her gaze swept across the assembly, her expression one of sincere admiration. "Such gallantry is truly commendable and speaks volumes of your character. It has always been my belief that the woman who would marry my son must possess a resilience of spirit. I am glad that it turned out to be the case, my lady."

Trust. This was the unspoken question that hung heavy in the air. Are you with us or against us? Her gaze seemed to demand. What role will you play in this game of thrones, and how will you influence my son? The queen’s warm gaze seemed to demand.

What was your endgame? Even you could not definitively say. Your heart pulsed with your love for your homeland, the desire to serve your family, to protect those you cherished. But could you extend that loyalty to this new, intertwined Hightower-Targaryen lineage? Could they become your family too?

Your eyes flicked towards Aemond, whose demeanor was a volatile mix of restraint and simmering anger. A wrong word and he looked like he might explode. The words of his grandfather seemed to have struck a nerve, yet there was something more beneath that tempestuous surface. In the brief hours since your paths had crossed, he had shattered the rumors of his cold-hearted nature, showing glimpses of kindness and vulnerability. Could you learn to understand... nay to love this enigmatic prince who had saved your life? To become his partner, a bridge between Dayne and Targaryen, nurturing future heirs who would one day soar the skies on dragonback? Your mind wandered, envisioning a child with silver hair and laughing eyes, astride a majestic purple dragon, Dawn gleaming in their small hand.

"I too am relieved, Your Grace," you replied respectfully. "Prince Aemond's actions were both brave and just. His courage in defending not only me but also the ideals of his house was commendable. You have every reason to be proud of him."

Alicent's expression softened at your words, you had said the right thing apparently. She stepped forward, her movement graceful and composed, and gently took your hands in hers. She smiled, and there was warmth in her eyes, trying to get a read on you, on your intention. She seemed satisfied with what she saw because she slowly tugged you with her toward the dais. Your parents' expressions briefly registered surprise and a touch of apprehension at this unexpected development as you were drawn away from them.

With your hands still clasped in the queen's, she led you closer to the throne, positioning you beside Prince Aemond. A flicker of panic crossed his features as you stood there, a mere breath away from him, you could feel the twitches of his fingers next to your hands- his presence was so overwhelming it was almost crushing. You could hear Queen Alicent (or was it the Hand?) drone on in front of the court, but all you could feel, hear and see was Aemond.

"Prince Aemond," you whispered playfully.

Aemond, his voice equally low replied, "Lady Dayne."

"It is a pleasure to see you again, my prince," you continued, the corners of your mouth curving into a subtle smile.

"We saw each other merely two hours ago, my lady." he pointed out.

"A lifetime for some prince Aemond," you quipped lightly. "I would have thought my absence might weigh heavily on my betrothed's heart."

Aemond appeared momentarily lost for words, his usual composure faltering. While Queen Alicent continued her discourse on duty and loyalty, you maintained a facade of rapt attention, though a sly smile played on your lips.

"Surely, you have missed me in these past few hours, my prince?" you murmured under your breath, the hint of a tease in your tone. "A betrothed left unmissed is a grievous oversight, would you not you agree?" Aemond, caught off guard, struggled to respond.

Reproachfully, Aemond looked at you with a glower of distrust "You find amusement in mocking me, my lady?"

"No, only in the delightful shade of pink you turn when lightly ribbed," you teased, observing as his ears flushed a deeper shade.

Aemond cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "It has been some time since anyone dared to make such jests with me. To tease a dragonrider takes a certain fearlessness. Some would say stupidity even."

"Is the great Vhagar present in this room, then?" you inquired with mock seriousness. "I see no mighty she-dragon poised to devour me."

A soft chuckle escaped Aemond's lips, but it was cut short by a stern glance from his grandfather. The Hand's disapproval was evident and was seeping through his every pore, which you could see even from his position on the throne. Was Otto Hightower regretting the alliance already? How quickly to make an antagonist of one of the most powerful men in the realm, this calls for an award, you thought morosely.

“I pray that Davos has recuperated from the ordeal?”

You smile, “It depends; the attack in the market or the forced bath? If it's the former, I believe he has bounced back quite resiliently. As for the bath, well, I fear the poor boy might carry that trauma for some time, given the intensity of his protests.

You glanced at Aemond's hair playfully, "I must say, your hair seems to have weathered the soapy siege remarkably well. I'm relieved, really. It would have been a tragedy to see such fine, silken locks come to any harm."

Aemond's response was a tad unimpressed "You do me too much honour with your flattery, my lady," he sarcastically uttered. Then, in a softer voice, he added, "I'm relieved to hear the boy has not been too deeply affected by today's ordeal."

You nodded, "Davos is a resilient child. For now, I have entrusted him to the care of my knight, Ser Perros. He is to teach Davos everything he once taught me. I have every hope that he will grow to be strong and fearless, never again to be a victim of brutality."

"Is it a customary practice in Dorne for a knight to oversee a young lady's upbringing?" Aemond inquired.

You offered a light shrug, "Ser Perros was not responsible for my formal education, but he ensured I would never be defenseless. Despite what transpired in the market, I assure you, I am far from helpless."

Aemond's voice was soft, his gaze still fixed ahead as Queen Alicent continued her discourse. "I would not dare to think otherwise, my lady," he said. "Your courage outshines that of many men of greater size and strength. I myself know of a young boy who would have wished for nothing more than to have a guardian as valiant as you when the time called for it."

Twice now, Aemond had mentioned this young boy - once at the market and again just moments ago. Curiosity bubbled within you. Who was this boy? Did Aemond genuinely know him, or was this some sort of strategy to charm you? To humanize himself to you? Your gaze discreetly swept over his striking profile: the pronounced aquiline nose, the defined jawline, and the sharp cheekbones – you feared you could cut yourself on him if you got too close. By the Gods, it was so unfair – this man was such a beautiful specimen, a perfect blend of sharp angles and elegance. You could almost feel homely when standing next to him. Almost. You had seen the hungry looks from some of the male courtiers when you had first entered the throne room, Perros had almost taken some heads before the formal introduction had begun.

As you stood beside Aemond, carefully positioned by Queen Alicent on his unscarred side, your eyes couldn't help but drift to his face. The sight of his lone, good eye, clear and intense, pulled at something deep within you. A curious urge overtook you, a desire to reach out and gently touch the leather patch that covered his other eye, to silently convey that his imperfections held no sway over your perception of him. The loneliness and hurt that lingered in his gaze were palpable, almost tangible in their intensity. You knew little about the prince beside you, but perhaps, in time, you and Aemond would find the words to share your stories, to reveal the journeys that had shaped you both into who you were today.

The commanding voice of the Hand resonated through the hall, snapping you back to reality and away from the small bubble you had created with Aemond.

"With the formalities now concluded, we can finally rejoice in the joyous celebration to mark the betrothal of my grandson, Prince Aemond, to a noble daughter of House Dayne. May their union be enduring and bountiful, heralding a new era of prosperity and unity for both our houses. This wedding, under the watchful eyes of gods and men, shall be a beacon of hope and unity, shining brightly against the backdrop of our bloody histories.” Otto Hightower paused, his eyes sweeping over the assembled courtiers with deliberate calculation. "In four moon’s time," he began, his voice laden with nuanced implications, "the Seven Kingdoms will welcome a new princess into its fold. This auspicious union will not only fortify the bonds between our houses but will also herald a new epoch of strength and unity for House Targaryen and all its true and devoted allies. It is a time where loyalty shall be rewarded, and the true power of allegiances will be unveiled. Now comes the time when we must take care to distinguish friends from foes, and I am grateful to call House Dayne, and the whole of Dorne, true friends of the crown."

The weight of Otto's words hung in the air, its sinister undertones sending a shiver down your spine. You felt a wave of apprehension washed over you. You knew why you were here, your father and Prince Quoren had warned you of the green’s plot and yet, your heart raced nonetheless. You had not thought that Otto Hightower would be so... blatant in his desire for power and the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a physical force.

It was then you felt a gentle but firm pressure on your hand. Glancing sideways, you saw Aemond, his expression inscrutable, not even looking at you, but his warm, large hand enveloped your smaller shaking one in a soft grip. It was as if he, too, sensed the burgeoning unease within you, and offered a silent reassurance. His touch, surprisingly warm and grounding, was a small comfort amidst the rising tide of fear and uncertainty. In that moment, the prince, spoken of in whispers of terrors, felt less like a stranger and more like a friend.

Leaning closer, his presence a comforting shadow, Aemond's lips hovered near your ear, his breath a warm caress against your skin. His whisper was barely audible, yet clear, "Might I have the pleasure of your company tomorrow to break our fast, my lady?"

The soft intimacy of the moment caused a warm blush to rise on your cheeks. "It would be my joy," you responded with surprised. You did mean it truly; you would be delighted to eat with Aemond tomorrow.

"Shall we say at dawn?" he suggested, “Or is that too early, my Lady?”

"Dawn is quite perfect, my prince– any later and I would feel robbed of your presence” you ribbed.

"Is this to be our fate? For you to tease me until the end of days?" Aemond’s good eye slides over to you, inscrutable yet vulnerable.

Biting your lip in a moment of contemplation, "If it displeases you, I can refrain, my lord." you offered shyly trying to tug your hand back – but Aemond refused to let go.

His reply was swift, his tone soft yet earnest. "No, please... never stop," he murmured with a naked vulnerability that touched you. "My lady."

You gently squeezed his hand, offering a silent gesture of comfort and understanding, "Dawn it is then," you affirmed softly.

Next Chapter - Interlude

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

Text

Stores I’m taking the TWST boys to and why (brutal)

Cw: light bullying of every boy and half of the stores. Also crackfic material

I’m taking Ace, Deuce, and Grim to Walmart at 3AM. That’s where you go to ride a child’s bicycle, cry in the cereal aisle, and play with toys that you don’t intend to buy and not worry about getting kicked out or banned. It is the only store safe for the braincell trio to go

I’m taking Cater to Starbucks so he can buy a $7 drink and post a picture of it on magicam. Then I’m taking him to therapy

I’m taking Trey to sur la table because he can behave and I think he’d like looking at kitchen equipment like a single 40 year old dad. He and I have to go alone though because I trust him not to get me banned but I don’t trust him not to spend all my money

Riddle is going to Barnes and noble and I’m sitting in the kids section reading picture books while he goes through every single bookshelf. After I run out of picture books I’m sitting in the Starbucks. He’s halfway through the store and moving at a snails pace. Ends up picking out one book so I buy him that and one of the really cute plushies they keep near the kids stuff

I’m taking Leona to the pound target and I’m making him guess how much basic household items are. He will fail and I will laugh at him and shame him

Ruggie and Jack are going to five below. I give them each $25 and tell them to go wild. Jack brings back plant holders and squishmallows while Ruggie has filled a cart with $25 of food and a sleep mask. Now every time we pass a five below they both beg to go in there.

I’m taking Jade to world market because a) they have cute mushroom mugs and soup careens, and b) exotic snacks. He will drain my bank account and I will let him. I am a complete simp for this man

I’m taking Floyd and rook to bass pro shop. We are forcibly removed from bass pro shop after Floyd throws a basketball at a workers face and rook shoots an arrow and almost hits another customer.

I’m taking Azul to ikea. He said he’s really passionate about interior design and likes clean looking spaces so I’m taking him to ikea. I will force him to eat a Swedish meatball. We end up buying pillows and also dunkleskög (we have shared custody of him)

Im taking Kalim to hot topic. He is intimidated but then he sees Sanrio shit and he is THERE bro he falls in love so fast with that little frog thing. End up buying matching best friend bracelets for both me and him and also for him and Jamil

Im telling Jamil that I’m taking him to the grocery store but in reality I’ve stolen his grocery list and I’m leaving him at therapy for an hour. I buy the groceries and drink coffee until he’s done and then we go home. I sleep with one eye open because this boy is anti self care with a passion

Vil and I are going to hobby lobby and stealing materials for Vil’s next film project. We don’t even pretend to hide them and the workers literally don’t care. Vil curses one of the cash registers and doesn’t tell anyone which one, just that he did it. The workers still don’t care because working at hobby lobby is a curse in itself.

It’s not a store but I’m taking Epel to the farmers market. He’s given $20 and ends up coming back with three heads of lettuce, a bushel of apples, two jars of jam, a jug of honey, and $34. I ask no questions and we go home to make an apple galette.

Idia and ortho are going to GameStop. Idia gets in a fistfight with a normie and is immediately hired by GameStop. Ortho comes out crying because he’s proud of Idia for making a friend

I’m taking Silver to a mattress store. We take a nap and get locked inside the building until morning. Spend the night talking and drinking the free coffee. We are banned upon the store opening the next morning (the coffee wasn’t free and we didn’t call anyone to get out)

I’m taking Sebek to a Jamba juice. Not technically a store, but he can yell as loud as he wants and it doesn’t bother anyone

I take Lilia to a guitar store. He plays an amazing ballad on a $4000 bass, then smashes it at the end. We are banned and being sued by the guitar store.

I take malleus to forever 21. He turns into a dragon and kills me

Malleus (real) I take him to lush and he picks out some bathbombs. Now the dragon smells like patchouli and lavender. Neat! And some of the workers there recognized him as a princ-

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arotechno · 1 year

Text

O. basilicum, part iii

Frida’s house had a spare back room that she converted into a bedroom for him, and the townsfolk showed up in droves with gifts for Basil: clothes from older children in the village who’d outgrown them, bedding, books. He kept the quilt Frida had given him on his first day, and soon the small room began to feel lived in—but lived in by someone else, and not Basil, who was only passing through.

He’d been outfitted with a pair of wooden crutches, given to him by a short man named Garth down the road who’d once broken his foot and had modified them to fit Basil’s tinier stature. As a result, Frida had eventually, after a few weeks of being carefully tended to like a piece of glass, given him the clear to wander around Verdigris on his own, provided that he stay out of trouble and always be home for meals.

Verdigris was different from Swallow’s Point. It was smaller, for one; Frida’s house and adjoining clinic sat on a hill at the end of the road, and from the front porch one could see most of the village spread out below. There was a town square where gatherings were held, and a large community garden that helped to feed the townspeople. Hunters like Hank and Ann provided meat to those who needed it, and others would do what they could in return. It was just the way things were done—people worked together to get by, because what other choice did they have?

It was foreign to Basil, who roamed the dirt roads at a snail’s pace like a stranger, sometimes inclined to look over his shoulder for a danger that was never there. Swallow’s Point had been a quaint little town, and for the most part Basil had lived a pleasant childhood. His parents kept him safe the only way they knew how, and he had a roof over his head and plenty to eat and friends his age to play with. But it was always with the understanding that all of those good things were conditional, and could be taken away if he slipped up in front of the wrong person.

In the end, that was what had happened.

“Hey, that used to be my sweater!” a voice called from behind. Basil stumbled, barely catching himself on his crutches and carefully turning himself around. Across the road, back from where Basil had come, an older boy of about fifteen was waving to him with a hammer, perched on a nearby rooftop. Basil recognized him. His name was Jim, and though he was Heartless himself, his mother and older sister were not—they had moved here with him as a toddler to keep him safe.

Basil looked down at his green knit sweater. It hung a bit loose on him; days on the run with little to eat had made him scrawny.

“I don’t suppose you want it back?” he called.

Jim chuckled. He had a boisterous, snorting laugh.

“No, I’m about a foot too tall for that old thing. It suits you, kid. How are Garth’s old crutches working out for you?”

“Fine,” Basil said.

“You don’t talk much, do you.”

Basil scowled. Though he knew he had no reason to be, Basil was wary of the other kids in town. There weren’t many of them, only a few other than he and Jim. Most had lived in Verdigris for most of their lives.

“Jim!” a voice shouted from inside the house. “Are you bothering that new boy?”

“I’m not, Ma!” Jim yelled back.

“You had better not be,” Jim’s mother called. “You’re supposed to be fixing that roof.”

“I am, Ma!” Jim rolled his eyes, then winked down at Basil. He explained, “My mother wants this roof patched up before winter and she’s already on my case about it. You know how mothers are.”

Basil said nothing. Jim gave him an odd look, then shrugged and went back to hammering. Unsure what to do, Basil stood there for a few more moments in silence before hobbling back toward Frida’s house. He’d had enough of the town for one day, and besides, Frida would soon be expecting him home for lunch.

Time passed, and winter fell on Verdigris. The trees went bare and the grass wilted and turned brown. A blanket of pure white snow draped itself over the hills and rooftops, and the sky was dyed a permanent shade of gray.

Most importantly, Basil found he couldn’t really walk anymore.

Frida had explained to him that because he had been walking on it for so long before she’d been able to treat his injuries, his leg hadn’t fully healed correctly. It was better, and could bear weight—but it was stiff and painful to walk on, and the cold weather made it worse. Now, he couldn’t do much more than move around the house without losing his balance, and hobbling on crutches in the ice and snow was out of the question.

With Basil being essentially housebound for the time being, Frida did her best to keep him busy by giving him books to study, and teaching him how to mix basic herbal supplements to help with common ailments. Basil found that he liked the work, and he liked Frida. She was kind to him, and didn’t push him to talk about the things that had happened to him. But for Basil, who had spent most of his childhood running about outside, being cooped in the house all winter made him grouchy and restless like a caged animal.

And so it was that when Hank came to the door one day, stomping snow off his big boots in the entryway, and told him he had something to show him, Basil agreed immediately.

“Hold on, now,” Frida said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s this about, Hank?”

“I want to take him up to the Ridge,” Hank said.

“That’s nearly an hour’s walk!”

“I’ll carry him on my back.” He smiled down at Basil in his kitchen chair. “That alright with you, kid?”

Basil looked to Frida with a pleading expression. “Please?”

Frida sighed. “Alright. But you be careful!”

“I’ll bring him back in one piece, Frida,” Hank said. “You know I will.”

They bundled Basil up from head to toe—boots, a thick wool cloak (an old one of Ann’s that had been hemmed to fit but was still much too long), and a knit hat, scarf, and mittens. Then Hank hoisted him onto his back and they bid the house farewell, Frida watching like a hawk through the kitchen window until they were out of sight.

The town was hushed, as if slumbering. Hank’s boots crunching in the snow made the only sound. It was peaceful, serene. Basil found he liked it. Snowy days back in Swallow’s Point had been chaos, racing to see who could build the best fort or shoving snow down each other’s coats. Basil’s parents had always called him talkative, but these days he was content to say nothing, and Hank didn’t ask him to. He liked that about him.

There was a lot to like about Hank. Hank knew a lot about a lot of things. He had visited often while Basil was initially recovering, and told him all about the different trees in the forest, and pointed out plants in Frida’s books of medicinal herbs that he recognized from his travels.

“You alright back there?” Hank asked after a while. He’d taken them into the woods east of town, where the tree cover was sparser than in the area where he and Ann typically hunted. They were climbing uphill, now, but Hank didn’t seem to be struggling.

Basil hummed in confirmation.

“You know, kid, I don’t think I ought to be able to carry a ten-year-old all this way. You really are scrawny.”

“No, you’re just strong,” Basil said, scowling.

Hank bellowed a laugh. His chest shook with the motion. “So I am,” he conceded. “But I don’t mean anything by it. You stay with Frida long enough and I’m sure she’ll have you getting big and strong in no time.”

Basil didn’t say anything.

“Do you… have someplace to go back to? Family waiting for you somewhere?” Hank shifted Basil’s weight on his back, stepping over an exposed tree root. “Some time, maybe when you are bigger and stronger, I can take you anywhere it is you want to go. I don’t mean to make it seem like you’ve gotta stay here if you don’t want to.”

“I have a family,” Basil said softly. “But I don’t know if I can go back to them.”

Hank didn’t respond right away, so Basil thought he must not have heard him. But then, Hank sighed.

“Basil, you’re from Amistadia, aren’t you.”

Basil’s stomach lurched. He clenched his fists in the shoulders of Hank’s coat. Maybe he’d make him go back. Maybe that’s where Hank was taking him now. But, no, they’d gone the opposite direction, hadn’t they? Hank would never—

“Hey, you’re alright,” Hank said gently. “You’re okay. Don’t worry, I had an inkling that was the case the day I found you. Proximity aside, few places are so brutal. Other places, they may treat you something terrible. But that? To a child? Shit. Jim’s family, they’re from Amistadia. He doesn’t remember because he was a baby, but that’s why they left.”

Basil loosened his grip. “Have you been there?”

“No, ‘course not. I haven’t left Verdigris in twenty years. I didn’t come all this way to make a new life for myself just to risk giving it up.”

“But you said you’d take me anywhere.”

“I would,” Hank said. “You’re worth the risk. Now, see here, look.” He pointed ahead to a break in the treeline. There, Basil could see where the gray sky met the snowy horizon in a sea of white. Before they quite reached that distant point, Hank turned to face the way they’d come.

“This,” he said, gesturing out over the hillside, “is the Ridge.”

Basil gasped. From this vantage point, he could see out over all of Verdigris, past the edge of the woods and beyond. If he squinted, he could even see Amistadia, the pointy spire of King Brutus’ extravagant central palace peeking out over the distant treeline. He’d never imagined he’d ever get to see it, as much as he’d pretended at delusions of grandeur—he certainly had never thought he might see it from this distance.

Somewhere that way lay a home he’d likely never see again, either. Maybe Ace was still out there. Maybe he wasn’t. As long as he was safe, that was all Basil cared about.

“Impressive? Well, that’s not even what I wanted to show you.”

Hank turned around, and Basil’s breath caught in his throat. On this side, facing eastward, Basil could now see out to that faraway point on the horizon where the blank sky seemed to stretch to infinity. In the snow-dappled valley below, distant homes and villages dotted the pristine white landscape, down through the hillside and all the way out to a frozen lake shimmering in the distance like a pretty polished stone.

Basil drummed his palms against Hank’s shoulders, wanting to be put down. Hank carefully lowered him to the ground, and Basil gripped onto his cloak for balance.

“Easy there,” Hank warned, holding him back by the shoulder. “If you get hurt, Frida will have my hide.”

“It’s amazing,” Basil whispered, a huge grin splitting his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled like that—the muscles in his face almost felt stiff at the motion. Above him, Hank chuckled in what almost seemed like fond surprise.

“There’s a whole, great big world out there, Basil,” Hank said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s not all so dark as the one that you have known.”

They stood there for a few minutes in silence, staring out over the Ridge. Basil thought it almost mystical—like if he stood there long enough, watching, that milky horizon might just swallow him up, taking the shining pearl lake with it in one big, terrestrial gulp.

Maybe Hank was right. Maybe this whole thing was far bigger than him, bigger than he’d ever imagined.

Hank picked him back up and turned away from that horizon.

“Let’s get you back to Frida,” he said. “It’s too damn cold.”

#god this took me DAYS i've been so so busy #was unsure about including the first part in this chapter but it needed to be in here for reasons #and it didn't work as its own individual chapter #so alas #aro writing #aro writers #o basilicum #the heartless #writing #long post #op

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2dmenenthusiast · 7 months

Text

Last Night on Earth Pt. 9

(Ethan Winters x Gn!Reader)

Woweewowwowwow Im so sorry it's been a million years since I posted! But I am back and I hope you like this chapter! Only one more after this and then I'm gonna start on the sequel!

Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Warnings/other info: Gore, character death (don't worry), description of bones breaking and a lot of other gross stuff

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Final

In all the years you’ve been alive, you think you’ve imagined your death about six dozen times. From the days you’ve been in foster care, enlisted in the army, and then up until now, it’s always been a topic that lingered in the back of your brain. Whether it be by your own hand, or some freak accident. You think you’ve doubled those thoughts in the past twenty-four hours alone.

“Chris.”

“Would you just let me check?”

“I’m fine!”

One hand was placed on your shoulder while the other turned your head from side to side, examining the large gash along your cheek from when your mask shattered.

“We almost got blown up, and you're worried about a cut on my face?”

“Your head slammed into a pile of rocks. I’m making sure you’re responsive.”

He held up his finger and moved it in and out of your vision, and you slapped his hand away.

“I’m fine. If I start throwing up then you’ll know something’s wrong.”

You heard Chris sigh behind you as you continued forward, muttering “stubborn” under his breath. Back in the central area of the cavern, you searched through the many pockets on your vest to search for a key you picked up somewhere along the way. You were made aware that there was a room behind the tunneling shield, and it was extremely likely that was the place Lucas was. You couldn’t imagine he had anywhere else to go since you’ve scoured almost every nook and cranny of this cave. And he didn’t leave, either. No, he had no intention of running away when the both of you were still alive. He was waiting for you, and you were ready.

“Where the fuck—”

“Did you lose it?”

“No!”

There was a prolonged silence, the only sound being velcro loudly separating as you frantically searched for the key. Chris sighed loudly, and you let out an “Aha!” whilst you pulled out the small piece of metal and shoved it in his face.

“I do not lose things,” you said, placing the key above the glowing red nose of the clown.

“Uh huh.”

“I put things down in places which later elude me.”

“Oh, jesus christ.”

As soon as you turned the key, the shield began moving forward at a snail's pace, rocks crumbling around it. You briefly wondered if the cave was going to collapse around you. As soon as it stopped, you turned to Chris, and with a dramatic roll of your wrist, you gestured to the stairs leading up to the contraption.

“Age before beauty.”

You imagined he rolled his eyes at you before moving on ahead without any complaints. You followed him up the rusted, yellow steps, the metal clanging under your footfalls. With Every step, your heart sank deeper into your stomach. You were anxious for all of this to be over, the concept hardly imaginable. Evie was dead, the root of all your problems, but once Lucas was gone, you’d finally be done. There would be no more of the endless torment you had to suffer, no more of your brother’s sick smile beaming down at you as he hurt and tortured you. God, a life without him in it. How fucking peaceful would that be?

The only problem was, you had absolutely no idea of where you would go or what you would do after this was all said and done for. Most of your life has been spent fighting, and the idea of living a peaceful, stress free life almost made you cringe. It was a nice thought; working a nine to five job, coming home to silence, and curling up on the couch with a good book and a drink. It wasn’t you, though. You think you’d go insane if it was.

Would you enlist again? Shit, you don’t even know if they’d let you. You don’t think you could pass a psych eval if you tried. You could always put your mechanic skills to use, your dad certainly taught you plenty. Thinking about it all now, it was giving you a headache.

When you stepped into the tunneling shield, it was completely dark, and you wish your headgear hadn’t been ruined since night vision would certainly come in handy right about now. You’d have to trust Chris to be your eyes for the time being.

“Oh!” The sound of Lucas’s sudden voice almost made you jump. “You’re both still with us, I see. Very impressive, my friends! Let’s just see how impressive y’all really are.”

The light suddenly flickered on, and you were met with molded creatures coming at you from every direction. You covered Chris’s six while he covered yours, backs pressed together as you frantically shot at the monsters charging at you. Every time you killed one, another would appear in its place. But, they went down surprisingly easy, almost as if they were getting weaker as time went on. Maybe it was because it was Lucas creating them, rather than Eveline.

“Y’all are slowing down. Almost had you that time.” You refrained from rolling your eyes. “Just how much more of this do you think you can take?”

As soon as he was finished speaking, a couple bigger guys came stumbling through the area, smashing objects in their path, and you quickly recognized them as the same type that you and Ethan fought in the barn.

“Be careful, they spit!” you warned.

Right when you said that, a spew of vomit came at you, and you rolled out of its path. This stuff burned like acid, and you weren’t intending on reliving the painful experience. But then you remembered how you killed the one you faced last time, and quickly felt in your pants pocket.

“Chris! Get out of there!”

He watched you pull the pin with your teeth, and threw his body behind cover as you chucked the grenade between the two large monsters. Their bodies exploded like gore filled balloons, and you swallowed back the bile in your throat.

“You okay?”

Chris stood up, seemingly all right, and nodded. That was a relief.

The lights turned off, and you heard Lucas in your ear piece.

“Okay, okay! No more, alright? I don’t have nothing left.”

“That’s too bad. Now tell us where you are so we can fucking end this!” you seethed.

“Listen! I know I’ve done terrible things. Horrible things. I killed your men. I tortured them. Tortured my siblings too. And you know what? I enjoyed every second! Just like I’m gonna enjoy watching you burn!”

Red lights began pulsing and an alarm sounded, a robotic female voice informing you of the time before detonation.

“Oh, I’m really scared now!” you muttered sarcastically.

“You should be! Sounds like time’s running out! Tick tock, y’all. Tick. Tock.”

You spotted a grate in the floor, and used as much strength as you could to pull it up. It wouldn’t even budge an inch

“If you’re gonna kill us, just kill us. But for the love of god, shut the fuck up!” Chris grieved.

You chuckled to yourself and went to the next grate, wrapping your fingers firmly around the bars and pulling. When you heard the metal scrape a bit, you tugged harder.

“Come on.”

As the room began falling apart and flames licked at your feet, you finally pulled the grate up with a grunt and threw it to the side, jumping down after you urged Chris to go first. As soon as the cool cave floor met your hands and knees, a loud explosion sounded behind you, reflecting off the wet stone and heating your back like the sun. The Captain was by your side in seconds, helping you stand straight and checking you for injuries.

“You alright?”

You nodded, brushing him off. “Yeah. Let’s go before he gets away.”

Moving to step past him, you were immediately stopped in your tracks and pulled back by a firm hand on your arm. You sighed, twisting around to look at Chris.

“What?!”

Fingers gripped your jaw and turned your head to the side, the reflective shield of his helmet inching closer as he inspected you.

“Something on my face?” you asked. You were getting more frustrated by the second.

“More like lack of something.”

You shoved his hand away. “The hell are you talking about?”

You felt around your cheek, searching for what he meant, and your eyes widened. Shit. The cut on your face. It was gone.

“Chris, I—”

“How long has this been happening?”

You certainly felt on the spot now. “Uh, right before we fought Evie, I think. I, um… Well—”

“Spit it out.”

You sighed. “I technically died.”

He didn’t speak. You took that as your cue to explain.

“Well, from what Ethan told me, at least. I had this… dream. Or vision, or something. And the next thing I know, I’m waking up and all of my injuries are healed. I had a broken arm that I had reset earlier that night, and when I woke up, it was like nothing had happened to it. I know it’s strange but… I can’t explain it.”

He continued to remain silent, and it was making you nervous. You really wished you could see his face.

“Chris—”

“You need to get out of here.”

“... What?”

“Go. Go back the way we came and get the team to evac you.”

He turned away, and your lips parted in surprise. What the hell was he on about?! You followed him, not satisfied with the lack of explanation.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You hid crucial information from me and revealed yourself to be a possible threat. You’re done with the mission.”

“A threat?!”

You stopped in your tracks, but he just kept moving forward, as if his words didn’t have any kind of effect on you. Like you were just gonna lay down and listen like an obedient dog.

“Hey! I’m fuckin’ talking to you, asshole!”

He paused, but still didn’t face you.

“The only threat I am to anyone is my shitstain brother! You think I’d hurt you? Hurt your team?”

When he spun around and got in your space with only a few long strides, it made you take a step back, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I think you don’t know what’s happening to you, and I think it’s a hazard to not only my safety, but your own. What if you turn into one of those things, huh? What if you mutate into a monster and I have to fucking kill you? Did you think about that?!”

God, you felt like you were being scolded by a teacher. Yeah, maybe you intentionally hid this from him because you knew he wouldn’t let you come. And you couldn’t risk that. You realized it was incredibly selfish, but in the moment, all semblance of safety went out the window when you realized you’d have the opportunity to hunt down Lucas. And Chris was doing a hell of a good job of making you feel guilty about it.

But, among all his ranting, a lightbulb went off above your head.

“Chris, shut up!”

He tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

Your hands came up to grip his shoulders, and you grinned.

“I got the vaccine. Remember? If the infection was that far along, I would’ve died as soon as I got it!”

You were happy about the news, but your emotions didn’t seem to be reciprocated. If anything, the information only seemed to make Chris more confused.

“Then how the hell is this possible? You must have some trace of the mutamycete in you. That’s the only way you could be regenerating so fast.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. And we’re not gonna know without me being poked and prodded in a lab, which isn’t gonna happen until after we apprehend Lucas. So could we please get this show on the road?”

Chris sighed, pointing a finger at you in a manner of finality.

“No more secrets. Understood?”

You gave him a mock salute. “Loud and clear, Captain.”

“Call me Redfield, for christ’s sake.”

“Could just call you Christopher.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

You smiled, glad to see the man wasn’t always all seriousness. Clearly, under the hard exterior, he was a decent, normal guy.

Who could punch the head off a molded with barely any effort.

As you moved forward and through another door, the setting quickly changed from jagged cave walls to smooth brick. Your coms buzzed with the voice of Veronica, (Chris finally mentioned her name after you referred to her as “the lady with the pretty voice” too many times for his liking.) letting you know that Lucas sent out an email stating your deaths and the end of whatever deal he was involved in. You all surmised it was The Connections, but nothing was certain yet. What you were sure of, though, was that Lucas was a fucking idiot for thinking after all this time, he could kill you in such a shitty way.

Fire? Really? A beheading would’ve been way cooler.

It didn’t take long before the brick transitioned into smooth, painted stone, the cold atmosphere of the hallway you stepped into sending a shiver up your spine. Questions about what this place was and how it was built swirled in your mind. It was like an underground research facility, and the more you searched, you knew that’s exactly what it was. It was so clean it almost made you uncomfortable, and you could feel that something truly awful happened down here. You wouldn’t have such an eerie feeling in the pit of your stomach if something didn’t.

Wandering down the pristine hallway, you stepped into a lab with your gun raised and quickly noticed a couple high regen molded through the glass pane on the other side of the room. You carefully examined an abandoned piece of paper next to a bright computer, and noted that this was where Lucas did his research for The Connections. Searching through the device, you found a note he had written for himself, talking about how he killed all the researchers with the molded and had to hold in his laughs while he watched them die. The sick fuck. He also mentioned potential buyers of the E Series, and you pointed it out to Chris. He talked quietly into his earpiece while you took a shuddered breath.

Shit. How long has he been up to this?

When Chris led you into the contained room, you both swiftly took out the creatures, and noticed the trails and splatters of blood on the otherwise pristine padded walls. You didn’t know what kind of experiments they were doing here, and you didn’t want to know. The possibilities made you sick.

“He’s not in here. Let’s move.”

You held up a hand, wordlessly telling Chris to just wait a second, and picked up a photo next to a set of dolls. It was Mia holding Eveline’s hand. You felt your heart plummet.

“She’s been working with them…”

“Who?”

You spun around and thrusted the photo towards him.

“Mia! She— Fuck, I wanted to give her the bennefit of the doubt, but this? This is fucking sick!”

You dropped the photo and took a closer look at the dolls. They must’ve represented the two. You felt your skin crawl.

“They conditioned Evie to see Mia as a mother figure so she wouldn’t act out as long as she was with her. If Mia kept up with the charade, Eveline’s emotions would remain stable. Shit, and Ethan doesn’t even know! He doesn’t know his wife is a goddamn liar and working with terrorists!”

“Hey,” Chris placed a hand on your arm, trying to get you to come down from your quickly rising anger. “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but we have to focus. I need you to keep your head on straight for me, alright?”

You gulped and nodded, taking a deep breath to do as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that earlier you felt some semblance of empathy for the woman, when she was involved in all of this from the beginning. Maybe you didn’t have all of the information, but the current evidence was certainly painting a clear picture for you. And it wasn’t a very pretty one.

You brushed past the man without another word, jaw clenched and lips set in a frown. It was nice to have clarity about certain things, but if you were honest, you were fucking tired of discovering the new atrocities your brother and whoever these “Connection” assholes were committed. It seemed never-ending, like one or ten awful acts weren’t enough. You had stared evil in the face, taken the lives of dangerous terrorists. But nothing compared to the evil that resided in your brother. And you often wondered how he ended up this way. Because your parents were nothing but loving, and you couldn’t remember anything particularly bad happening to Lucas when you started living with them. So, the only conclusion you could make was that he was just born that way. And your parents, as loving and attentive as they were, never saw it. Or, they just pretended not to.

Moving down the corridor, your breath hitched when you spotted the back of Lucas’s grey hoodie on the other side of a glass window. He was hunched over a laptop, furiously typing as he didn’t seem to notice you yet. You experimentally pushed against the mechanical door to the room and met resistance.

“The power must be out. Try to find a switch or something, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Chris nodded and stepped into the next room branching off the hallway while you watched Lucas intently. You could safely make the assumption that he was emailing his business partners and wanting to part ways. You imagined that was easier said than done.

The power suddenly flickered, and Lucas’s head shot up when the lights in the room turned on. When he finally turned, it was like he saw a ghost. He stumbled back into the desk just as Chris came back into the hall, and with a smile, you pressed your middle finger to the glass.

“I got you now, fucker!”

He took off running in a split second, and you didn’t hesitate to go after him, slamming your shoulder into the door as Chris yelled your name. Your boots squeaked against the waxed floor, and Lucas wheeled a gurney in your path amidst his frantic escape. Using your momentum, your hand balanced on the gurney to help you clear the jump over it, maintaining your speed.

“Shit, shit!”

“You got nowhere to run, Lucas!”

He burst through the door at the end of the hallway, but as quickly as you followed him through it, he had disappeared. You raised your rifle, searching the vast room when Chris caught up to you.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I lost him somehow.”

It was then that his voice spoke through your ear piece.

“How the hell are y’all still alive? You should be dead!”

“We got your emails. We know you’re funneling info to someone.”

Lucas growled. “That’s none of your god-damned business, Chris! A lot of people wanna know about our little Evie. A lot of people.”

“She was a little girl, asshole,” you seethed.

“Do your friends, The Connections know about this? They don’t seem like the forgiving type.”

“That’s my business. You let me worry about them.”

“Won’t have to worry much when you’re dead, then.”

With a scream, Lucas appeared from the shadows like a bat out of hell, swinging a knife at Chris and tackling him to the ground. You ran up to his side and kicked your boot against his shoulder to knock him off, and as he went to raise himself up, Chris put a bullet in his leg while you put one right in his chest.

Of course, it was wishful thinking that that would be enough to kill him.

He writhed on the ground, muttering to himself. “I can’t— I don’t… No, I don’t believe it.”

You firmly placed your boot on his chest and aimed your gun in his face. “It’s over, Lucas. You’re finished.”

He struggled out a laugh. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you.” You shouldn’t have been surprised, but you couldn’t help the gasp that left you when his features began morphing and his body started melting into black mold. Veronica mentioned something about the infection, but you were too distracted by the current horror show to pay attention.

“Oooh boy! So this is what it feels like.” His voice was deep. Distorted. “I’ve got somethin’ for you, now. You’re fuckin’ screwed!”

There was a firm hand on your arm pulling you back, and you watched as your brother’s body turned into a puddle of black ooze and began creeping up the wall.

“What in the seven shades of fuck…”

The goo settled on the ceiling before it began to produce yellow spores, forming a sac-like structure that began to pulse and leak a viscous, yellowish liquid. From the way you’ve seen your other family members transform, you quickly learned that no evolution from this virus was the same. And Lucas’s definitely seemed to be the most evolved out of all of them.

“So uh… any advice on how we should handle this?” you asked.

Chris reloaded his rifle, making sure the magazine was firmly locked into the gun. “Yeah. Fight like hell.”

Well, you could’ve guessed that.

The sac pulsed violently before splitting right down the middle as Lucas fell out of it. But, he wasn’t Lucas anymore. No, this thing was three times Chris’s size and had sharp points jutting out of its body. It had three morphed faces and pointed teeth. It was a fucking monster. So, yeah. Maybe it was the real Lucas.

“You had to come in here and mess everything up, didn’t you?!” he said.

He swung a long, deformed arm your way and you narrowly dodged it, the heavy mass on the end of it forming a crater where you once stood. His eyes were red and full of fury. But, they weren’t focused on Chris. They were focused on you.

Shitshitshitshitshit!

Chris yelled at you to run, but as soon as you turned to do so, Lucas leapt from his spot and landed right in your path, the ground shaking from the force. You had to strain your neck to look up at his face(s), and god, was it a gruesome sight. You took a slow step back, trying to distance yourself, but you were afraid any sudden movement would make him lash out.

As if you weren’t already trying to kill each other.

“You! Always gettin’ in the damn way of everything!” His claws pierced the cement floor digging up a hunk of rock and holding it over his head. “Folks should’ve sent you back where you came from!”

The rock was sent flying down at you, but another hard force rammed into your side and pushed you to the ground out of harm’s way. Still, Chris’s body slamming into yours nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“Fuck!”

“You okay?”

You nodded, pushing yourself off the ground as he stood up. You were more than okay, because now you were fucking pissed. Over ten years living with this asshole and his only motivation for hating you was petty jealousy? What a fucking crybaby.

Aiming your rifle, a stream of bullets pierced his thick head, and he turned to you with a scream.

“Come on, fucker! You wanna kill me so bad? Then fucking do it!”

He roared, the sound guttural and rough, and moved to swipe a large, clawed hand at you. As quickly as he lashed out, though, he brought his hand back up to his face before it could touch you, shielding it from Chris’s assault. You used the momentary distraction to aim at the glowing, orange mass on his chest, and noted how it caused him more pain. But then he was jumping away from you and screaming about his head, and his ribs and chest opened with a sickening crack to release spores, filling the room with contaminated air.

When he looked down at you, there was a deranged expression on his face. But, when he saw your maskless face and noticed you had no reaction to the spores, his expression dropped.

“What?! Impossible!”

You grinned, and just for kicks, took a deep breath of the air. You then beat your fist against your chest and held out your arms.

“Come on! Hurt me! You wanna see what happens?!”

Your taunting clearly had some effect, because he was charging at you in the next moment, hand closing around your middle and dangling you above the ground. Chris called out for you, and judging by the tremor in his voice, you knew he was scared for you. Maybe even more scared than yourself. But, you’ve stared death in the face, faced more terrifying foes that Lucas wished he was half as brilliant and despicable as. So what reason was there to be afraid?

When he slammed your body into the concrete, the air forced itself out of your lungs as your skull slammed back into the floor and rattled your brain. His grip was so tight he began to crush your ribs whilst blood gurgled in your throat, and Chris’s cries fell on deaf ears as Lucas flung you to the side.

You rolled across the ground and didn’t stop until you hit the wall. The sound of the captain’s rushing footsteps became louder as he came to your side and shielded you with his body, keeping his gun trained on Lucas. Your brother snarled and said something, but you couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

It fucking hurt like hell, searing pain shooting throughout your body as you lifted yourself onto your hands and knees. But as quick as the pain came, it began fading, leaving your insides warm and tingling. Your ribs cracked back into place, the pressure lessening on your lungs and allowing you to take a breath. Despite a mild headache, you felt perfectly fine. Like all you got was a small bump on the head. The ridiculousness of it all made you giggle.

The sound of gradually rising laughter caught their attention, taking a brief pause from killing each other to look at you. When you raised up on your feet, Chris took a step back as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. You should be dead. He watched Lucas crush you like you were a fucking beer can. Yet, here you were, standing on your feet with blood dripping down your face and laughing.

You licked the blood off your teeth and spat it on the floor.

“Is that the best you can do?”

You were rushing forward in an instant, faster than Chris could stop you, and slipped your knife out of its sheath. Lucas went to take another swing at you, but you dropped to your knees and slid between his legs, slicing your knife at his ankle. He cried out and collapsed onto one knee, and you quickly shot up on your feet to jump up on his shoulders.

“Chris!”

The man was alert, waiting for your instruction whilst you shoved your blade into one of Lucas’s eyes over and over again. He screamed, hand coming up to claw at your thigh, but you grit your teeth through the pain and didn’t let up, locking your legs around his neck.

“His chest! Shoot it!”

He didn’t waste any time, sending a barrage of bullets into Lucas’s glowing chest, the orange pustules spurting disgusting liquid onto the ground.

“No! NO!”

With a cry, you lodged your knife deep into his skull, the blade sinking in with a sickening squelch, before untangling your legs from his neck and kicking off his shoulders. You landed— albeit ungracefully— on your feet, and watched as Lucas writhed before collapsing on his back. His skin undulated and whatever disgusting substance he had flowing inside him bubbled to the surface. His ragged breaths were loud, and he almost sounded like he was in pain.

Good.

Your boots stomped against the ground and paused beside him, rifle aimed at his head with a snarl on your lips. His eyes shifted back and forth, and you saw no semblance of the boy you used to know behind them. All you saw was a fucking monster.

“Game over, asshole.”

The single shot that rang out was loud and echoed off the barren walls, his head exploding to viscera at your feet.

He was dead.

And you felt nothing.

You pictured this moment over a thousand times. You imagined there would be this massive weight lifted off your shoulders, and you could live your life knowing you and Zoe were finally safe. But you felt absolutely nothing.

Your gun clattered to the ground, and a rough cry clawed its way out of your lungs. You felt like you were suffocating, desperately clawing at the straps of your vest because god dammit get this fucking thing off of me!

Chris made his presence known, quietly reassuring you and helping you with your vest. The second it was loose, you tore it off your body and took a deep breath, back hunched with your hands on your knees.

“Fuck! Fuck.”

“Hey. He’s dead. You’re okay.”

Your breathing began to slow after a while, and you slowly straightened up to look at the man next to you. He had taken his mask off at some point, and you swore you almost forgot what he looked like. It was refreshing to see a friendly face, rather than the black reflective glass you had been forced to look at for the past however long.

But now, he looked less intimidating than when you first met him. His features were still well weathered and stern, but his eyes were… softer. The crease between his brows lessened just a small bit.

“I’m okay.”

He nodded, lips quirked up in a small smile. “You’re okay.”

“Chris!” Veronica yelled, and you swore you jumped at least three feet in the air.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

“The data transfer’s almost complete!”

You both rushed over to the computer, the progress bar on the monitor almost full.

“How do I stop it?”

“You need to find a way to shut down the server. There may be some transformer relays you can—”

Anything else she wanted to say was cut off when Chris shot at the transformers right next to the monitor, effectively stopping the email from sending.

“Well, that was effective,” you said.

“Yeah. Gonna be some pissed off computer techs here, but—”

“Whatever. What’s the Sitrep?”

“The facility is clear. Even the newer breeds have been neutralized.”

Chris smiled, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Then we’re getting outta here.”

You returned the gesture, but gasped when you remembered something.

“My sister! Veronica, is she—?”

“She got life flighted to a secure facility where she’s being taken care of, along with Ethan and Mia. Your uncle is with her.”

A puzzled expression took over your features. “Uncle Joe? Damn, can’t remember the last time I saw him.”

“Well then, let’s go. Have a big family reunion.”

You chuckled, following Chris out of the facility. “You gonna join us?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it.”

#Ethan winters x reader #resident evil #resident evil biohazard #resident evil 7 #ethan winters #chris redfield #re7

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moss-selfship · 9 months

Text

Slowly coming to terms more and more with the fact im likely going to need a cane and knee brace for the rest of my life.

Between a knee injury i got bout half a year ago and long covid symptoms. It makes walking and doing physical activity difficult for me (hell walking up just 2 flights of stairs at any speed other than a snails pace has me winded and my knee aching) Hell, just driving to work having my knee bent in the drivers seat had it aching.

I know when i got the injury i was reccomend a knee brace and physical therapy for months (but shitty work insurance at old job denied it). And time has only made it worse ( there is loud popping every time i bend it and i can feel the bone click against each other when i move it).

Once i get health insurance at this job ill look into getting examined and see what if anything is able to be done.

But i am deeply worried about being registered as disabled. Especially with how disabled people are treated in the world, and especially by the government.

Im really lucky to have a job right now where i sit and take calls and help people at a desk (work at a box office job). But the worry is still there. So finances and worrying about benefits isnt to big a concern for me atm.

Dont be surprised if you start seeing my insert with a sort of cane or knee brace. I know depicting this stuff in art helps with dealing with this stuff. And will make me feel better.

#personal #vent #just been on my mind alot the past few weeks #disability

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innocencelives · 1 year

Text

trying to live healthily. i mess up my whole apartment all week for my work, then i clean-in stages. tomorrow is cleaning day but i have a big job this week so im starting tonight. and i cant over work myself. i basically clean until i am in too much pain to continue-or almost there is probably better. currently, physically, i have black and blue bruise on one foot, and a dislocated knee on that leg from a bad fall this week. my knee gets dislocated like once a year honestly, so i put on my brace, i rest, i dont overwork that leg, and i continue walk at a snails pace through the snow in order to not die. i was on a crutch for a bit this week but i still got my show done, managed to wear my brace and flats for the show- bc i take care of myself bitch! using the crutch to lean on one foot/leg aggravates my chronic foot pain-making it extra bad on the other foot. low back pain is also hard, probably bc of all my stankin creativity! but i got that headstart in cleaning tonight. it was i think 2 full weeks i couldnt do my weekly deep clean-so i guess i missed one week. not gonna be too down on myself, bc i did manage to do the dishes once in that period-which prevents mold and a bad smell which is super important. tomorrow i pick up all trash, then reorganize all materials, then do dishes, then IF I CAN-sweep, wipe down kitchen and bathroom. im currently still terrified of nooks and crannies, behind my washing machine for example scares me shitless, i have to try to get those places clean at least once a while, under my bed is a big one- who knows if i left a single fry that turned into a moldy maggoty disaster? scared, so scared. on the mental side- continuing my 2 year streak of not dealing with terrible ptsd, still, on my stupid insistance of not taking my nightmare med, i deal with vidid confusing and terrifying dreams every night- always back to the home i grew up in, always seeing my parents, sometimes its meaningless randonmness, often times its pointed reflections on my trauma. absolutely terrified my cat is going to die, i have nightmares every night about that. shes old? has some pimples and sneezes alot… i know shell be okay, but my fear brain doesnt. i had a dream my mom killed her- horrifying stuff. cats have always personified innocence in my life, the idea of one dying is heartbreaking to me. on the other hand shes so annoying sometimes!!! haha, she always wants love, always wants pets? constantly. and who can blame her? i feel the same. still trekking on in my life. moving forward in my art, even though i have TERRIBLE habit of getting so down on myself and feeling like a failure- which is PROVEN beyond a reasonable doubt, to be WILDLY i correct. but yeah! im doing okay. trying to work on things. ive added another friend to my lonely life which is great! and im working on not making every conversation about my troubles, gotta stop that toxic shit. just trying to heal man. getting over the debilitating ptsd symptoms was i think the greatest triumph of my life. but its lasting effects on the goddam structure of my brain, and my physical disabilities, still suck ass. but yea. moving on! living life! i can do it!

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afreakingdork · 1 year

Note

Hello!! This is only like. my second time sending in an ask (like,ever,xbbbxbx, i apologize in advance for how long this is gunna be)

But im finally sucking it up and doing it!!! I'm doing it!! Specifically so!!! So that I may say my thanks for sharing CTM with the public!! I was ghost reading your work before even getting the guts to follow you and it's just- so phenomenal. I remember someone else sending in an ask about how much they appreciate how slow you wrote the slow burn and I have to second that!! As well as second your response that many Donnie-centric fics develop too fast one way or another for my tastes. I love the snail pace falling into friendship then love stories SO HECKING MUCH and /hoo boy/. CTM fills that void so well!!!! Cuz let's be honest here- anyone with an overthink issue aint pencil diving into an emotional commitment on their life. We're look before you jump people here, c'mon now (im looking away from the outliers). Also I genuinely enjoy reading the asks and responses that are shared as well as the community that's found its way here. It's really heartwarming; even the thirst for Tacticals- none of us are immune🧯. On that note- despite having jumped in head first for the Donnie content I am very excited to stick around and see what other stories that beautiful mind of yours wills to share!!! The turtle content will always be the reason I came here but im staying for more then that, as I'm sure many others are. Maybe eventually i'll work up the courage to send things and talk to people more in this fandom from watching others do so in such charming and heartfelt ways. Human connection is beautiful. Thank you soo much for your hard work and firework thoughts!!

-Honeybee

Honeybee, I am going to sob without questions! This is the ding dang sweetest thing!!! I am so proud of you for coming out to say this and absolutely destroying me on sight with kindness!

Saying you'll stick around!! I just-! I don't even know! When I mentioned that being a concern, I genuinely didn't think anyone would reassure me. I wasn't fishing for it and had almost forgotten about it in all honesty. I have so many little worries like that, but that's just being human! I'm am so deeply moved my human connection. Not to get all sappy, but I really do sit back and marvel at all of you and how we've all found each other in this moment. The fact that I can be apart of someone's joy. I just adore humanity so much in that respect. I'm am deeply honored and humbled.

Crap, I really am crying! Gosh, truly thank you so much!

#ask

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annaofthenorthernlights · 1 year

Text

Ich habe 3.169 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

Das sind 1.230 more posts als 2021!

180 Einträge erstellt (6%)

2.989 Einträge gerebloggt (94%)

Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:

@true--north

@hiptoff

@bad-at-names-and-faces

@loonysama

@bigfrozensix

Ich habe 2.354 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt

Nur 26% meiner Einträge hatten keine Tags

#kristanna – 549 Einträge

#fanfic – 388 Einträge

#anna – 341 Einträge

#frozen – 259 Einträge

#fanart – 247 Einträge

#encanto – 176 Einträge

#kristoff – 174 Einträge

#gifset – 164 Einträge

#fanedit – 160 Einträge

#elsa – 154 Einträge

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#i like the symbolism of the snail because it takes its time and does not rush but lingers in its pace

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

Happy birthday

@justfrozenthings

Okay, that title is not very creative, but it fits so perfectly – because it´s your birthday today!!!

So, here´s a little treat – for you – a special and unique lady, fully turning 21 today! Happy birthday my dear! ❤️✨🎂🧁

a little Kristanna modern AU – it´s all fluff… (and find it on AO3)

Words: 1092

_________

“I´d like to order 21 cupcakes for tomorrow, please.”

Anna spoke while roaming the shelf filled with the most delicious delicacies at “Bjorgman´s magical cupcake” shop.

“21, alright, funny number.” The young man glanced at her curiously.

“Oh,” Anna bit her lips and pulled up her shoulders, intertwining her hands before her chest, “it´s my birthday tomorrow.”

“Really?!” Kristoff exclaimed with a smile, “well, I´d congratulate, but I was told one should not do that in advance. But I certainly wish you a nice day already!”

“Thank you.” Anna smacked her lips and put a hairstrand behind her ear.

“So, what flavors would you like to order, then?” Kristoff asked, ready to note down Anna´s order, waiting patiently while she continued to study the goods on display.

Anna was almost a daily customer, had moved to their neighborhood a few months ago. And she had captured his interest from the first sight, with her radiant smile, her smiling freckles and her jovial character. Kristoff admired her cheerful manner, truly intrigued by her happy ways even though she had told him that she had come here all alone.

The day, she had entered their shop he was lost from the moment she spoke to him, questioning him about every cake, cookie, or pastry there was. He had patiently explained the various products and drowned in her glinting eyes. From then on, each time Anna came over before her work, or after work and some days even twice… Kristoff tried to get free to chat to her for a moment, even if it meant only to remove her dishes and asking how her day had been. If only he could get a glimpse of her smiling eyes… And his day was saved!

“Kristoff?”

Anna stood before him with a giggle, waving a hand before his face.

Shit – he had completely drifted in his dreams of them strolling hand in hand down the beach…

“Oh, sorry. Got lost in thought… so, have you got an idea of what you like to order?”

“To be honest, I can´t decide. I mean everything here is so delicious. You know what? You put something together for me, yes? It will be great, I´m sure!”

“Alright then!” Kristoff chuckled with a shrug and scribbled something on his notepad, “shall we deliver, since it´s going to be quiet a big box to carry?”

“Oh, that´d be really kind. Hm… tomorrow at 2 pm?”

“2 p.m. it is, fixed.”

Anna was about to leave the shop, but stood for a moment, kneading her fingers before her chest.

“Would you like to come, too? I mean, since I´ve moved here, I see you more often than my own family…”

“Oh…. Hm… thanks, Anna….”

So, she invited him over… of course she was being kind… but what if she liked him…?!

----

Oh gosh….!

Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen

40 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 16. Januar 2022

Omg I never noticed how Elsa's other leg "shines" through Nokk.... and she spurrs him on with her left heel... wow!

... and oh, I loooove his mane swirling and dripping... So beautiful

Thanks to @elisamaza and @lovewillthaw-j for those lovely gifs.

45 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 6. November 2022

Kristanna engagement game

Additionally to my yesterday´s post with the link to the Instagram post I found the same video on youtube (see below) 😘)

It´s such a cute contribution to Kristoff and Anna´s engagement party. Oaken playing game to see how well the two love birds know each other!

Super sweet and cute - a must watch!!!! 💜💜💜

youtube

This takes place just before the engagement dinner show! (find the link to this one here then)

Thank you Disney!

Enjoyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

54 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 26. August 2022

United forever...

I have not done this in ages, and thought it´s about time to catch up with a new comic copy scan (translated from german).

This one is a beautiful story about Anna and Elsa writing each other and learning of the one thing that matters the most!

Family love, no matter how far they are apart!

Enjoy!

Vollständigen Eintrag ansehen

56 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 8. Mai 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

I love this picture so much, so I had to cut it out especially... for me and for all who are in love with this awesome couple!

This is a snippet from my other post with the complete story of how Kristoff, Sven and Olaf got their fancy outfits.

87 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 28. September 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

#tumblr2022 #Jahresrückblick #Mein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 #Dein Tumblr-Jahresrückblick #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

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okamirayne · 2 years

Note

Hi Rayne! truly love your series and cant wait to see what you produce in the future! I loved your oc's especially Hibari, i did have a question, i would love to know your take on gai and neji's relationship in btb-verse, in the series gai clearly cares for neji and im curious about them (apologies if this has been answered). in the naruto series it always felt like while gai cared it wasnt really shown especially since rock lee seemed to be his main focus. thanks!

Hi there, Anon!

Firstly, I apologise for the lateness of my reply to you. Been playing catch-up and am moving at the pace of a crippled snail at this point.

[...] truly love your series and cant wait to see what you produce in the future! I loved your oc's especially Hibari..

Aw! Thank you so much! 💜 Chuffed beyond measure. ^_^

i did have a question, i would love to know your take on gai and neji's relationship in btb-verse, in the series gai clearly cares for neji and im curious about them (apologies if this has been answered). in the naruto series it always felt like while gai cared it wasnt really shown especially since rock lee seemed to be his main focus. thanks!

Oooh, great question, Anon.

I agree with you, we didn't get that much insight into Gai and Neji's relationship -- bar Neji's embarrassment with the uh...theatrics of Gai's personality, gods love him. Gai and Neji have an interesting relationship and it's definitely one of those dynamics I'd like to look deeper into and explore.

Now, insofar as the btb-verse, I can tell you that Neji harbours a deep respect for Gai, given that his sensei has taken him down several pegs throughout his time as Gai's student (again, this isn't something I went into in the BtB storyline, though it's definitely something I'd be willing to explore if I were back in that world) due to arrogance and stubbornness on Neji's part. Gai's polar-opposite and playful disposition was a good fit for Neji and forced him to be a better team-player, despite his constant desire to gravitate towards a more serious and autonomous place.

Neji couldn't challenge Gai in the way he might have done if he'd had someone like Asuma or Kakashi as a sensei; Asuma would have defaulted to dismissal/avoidance and Kakashi would've come down like a lightning bolt to blast the cold steel-plating straight off Neji's ass. Neither of these approaches would've worked well. But Gai employed a completely different approach, using humour, lightness, emotionalism, experience, and strength that hid its claws -- and he diffused and dismantled the high ground constantly beneath his student. So Neji couldn't employ his usual strategies with Gai, as they just bounced off and didn't work.

Gai's emotionalism was, unintentionally, a very good tactic, given it was a weapon Neji didn't know entirely how to defend against when Gai used it with purpose. Also while Gai refused to engage with or entertain Neji's arrogance and rage, he didn't detach from Neji when Neji exhibited it, instead he redirected rather than reacted. It was an excellent match. Because when Gai DID get serious or angry, Neji was in NO DOUBT he'd gone done f*cked up real bad, so to speak.

I hope this explains some of their dynamic, luv! Thanks for the interesting ask. ^_^ It's a nice stroll down the BtB memory-lane.

#btb gai #neji and gai btb #btb ask

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fakeloveaskblog · 1 year

Note

(Hi, me again. Not sure if this is what you’re going for but the tiny snails reminds me of the ones that Snail had torment Os.)

Im going to use my ghostly abilities to send a duplicate of myself to quickly check on Os and see if he’s close.

If he is then I’ll see if he’s coming to the art exhibition or just passing by.

If he’s passing by then I’ll warn Remy he’s close but hold off on telling Remus unless he looks like he’s making his was towards the art gallery.

If he’s coming towards the gallery than I’ll warn Remus and ask him what he wants to do. I’ll offer ghostly services, such as teleporting Remus somewhere safe or making a sudden hole in the ground in front of Os so he falls in. But ultimately leave the decision in Remus’s hands.

If he’s nowhere near us then I’ll breathe a sigh of relief and encourage Remy to follow the snails, because snails are very trustworthy.

Glow Eyes

(Bingo)

Os had spent enough time with the other supernatural beings to feel your presence as soon as you appeared floating along as he walked. He stuck out his hand right in front of your face and watched as your body floated through the materia. By his expression it seemed he hadn't done it to actually stop you, just to see if he could.

"Now I understand why the snails left for once, since you're here. Did the snails get tired?" He asked while continuing to walk along the sidewalk in a brisk pace. "Am I going to get hounded by a flock of yous from now on...Doesn't matter. It's funny, a guy I know told me he saw a poster with what looked like my apartment on it detailing an art show. What a coincidence, I used to date a wannabe artist. Funny how that works" His voice was dripping with sarcasm "You can tell that to your flock of other yous so they know where to come to bother me"

He didn't expect an answer from you nor did he keep talking. He usually didn't talk to the snails either. All you could do was follow along as he rounded a corner and faraway you could see the art exhibition.

"Looks like everythings okay on the upper floor" Remus said as he came back to the reception.

The receptionist had gone on her lunch break so it was just him and Remy. His partner moved their cane away to give space for him. They htook a hold of his hand when he sat down on the window sill next to them. He pressed a kiss against their cheek.

"You smell like toootalll garbage" Remy said.

"My oh my such a fancyful compliment" Remus replied before leaning his head against theirs.

A sickly blue color filled the entire room as you appeared, your glow shifted rapidly between shades of the kind of blue plastered all over hospital walls. The words spilled out of your mouth vomit, some hasty sentences about Os being on his way and what Remus wanted to do.

A piercing sort of rage went through Remy as they reached their free hand to grab their cane. Remus had protected them against Virgil. They were hell bent on doing the same.

They looked over to Remus and saw that he already had a thousand yard stare. His body had tensed up to the point that his nails was digging into the skin of Remy's hand without him noticing.

His lips turned white from how hard he was pressing them together as tears welled up into his eyes. His entire body went stagnant, he didn't even blink.

Remy was about to ask if he was alright when a choked sob of a sound burst from his lips followed by him trying to force himself to breathe while quickly letting go of his partner's hand. He shook his head while closing his eyes.

"No....no..i...i made the art for a reason...he can...i just...don't wanna be near him i just"

"Deep breathe babey"

All of a sudden Remus just knew Oswald was there. It was like when a person can be recognized simply by the noise of their steps. There was a ringing in his ears as if the ocean was crashing into him.

Remus stood up and turned around. On the other side of the glass stood Oswald, his face half obscured by the poster for the art exhibition.

Os hadn't seen him though. He was looking at the poster and even though his expression didn't change much Remus could still tell as he slowly took in what the art work implied. The perfect recreation of the outside of his apartment. The title. That it had been chosen to be the focus of the exhibition. It was a threat...or perhaps just a message telling Os to never get close to him ever again.

The edges of Remus' sight turned blurry as Os moved his head and saw him. Remus glanced away, he stared off somewhere to a tree far away. He couldn't meet his eyes. The last times he'd seen those eyes....Honestly he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if it was when he had been held down against his will or if he had somehow caught a glimpse of those eyes as Rowan had helped him out of the apartment.

His vision became even more blurry as he started to cry. He was sure he had the same doe caught in traffic lights look he always had when panicking. Like a bunny caught in a bear trap. When the fox hears the bunny call it comes but never to help don't you know.

Worst part was that Os didn't look affected at all. It only made Remus feel more ashamed. Of course he didn't care. Of course he'd moved on. Of course. Of course.

It would have been easy to say that Remus felt like a scared lonely teen again. That he felt just like when he'd met Os. Like the fear of seeing him again had made him feel small.

But truth be told Remus didn't feel small. He was scared and his body ached from how tense he was and he could feel phantom hands all over but he didn't feel weak.

He felt like he was 22 and like he wasn't alone because he had 2 partners and even though he felt sick to his stomach he knew Os couldn't touch him. He knew he was safe. He knew he had people who loved him and who wouldn't touch him when slept and who he could cry in front of without being scared and who wouldn't call him she or her ever again.

Remus still didn't meet Os' eyes, not because he was scared but because Os didn't fucking deserve to ever see him in the eyes ever again.

A righteous rage shoot through his muscles making his whole body shake as he mouthed out "Go away" To Oswald.

"Go away!" He repeated.

He couldn't stand to see his abuser for a single more second so he turned around. For a few seconds he could still feel Os' eyes looking at him before the feeling disappeared. He stood there shaking and crying until his legs suddenly buckled under him and he turned into a half sobbing dissociated mess on the floor.

Remy had been silently sitting next to him the entire time with their cane ready. They may not be that strong but could still slam their cane into a motherfucker's crotch if Os had dared to try and enter the building.

Drops of sweat was running down Remus' forehead as he cried the kind of ugly cry where snot got everywhere and his face got blotchy and red and the tears were spilling out over his cheeks without any stopping.

"You're safe. He's gone" Was the first thing Remy said.

Remus nodded while wiping snot on his shirt. He couldn't speak, not right now. At most he was able to slur out a "...feel sick.." While dissociating.

"We can get home in like no time okay. Want me to call like Jannie over as well?"

His thoughts were too jumbled to be able to hesitate about it. He nodded only because the thought of Janus made him feel safe and warm.

"Okay. I'll call them. I'll tell the receptionist we had to close early for today. Everything's like totally alright" Remy assured before turning to you and mouthing that you should still make Os fall down a hole. Or get hit by lightning. Or get run over. Or get his dick bitten off. Anything.

#thanks for the ask!#mini fic #glow eyes

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archive-assassin681 · 4 years

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i’ll be honest lads my mental health isn’t that great right now

#mental health /#covid 19 /#tbd.#between being absolutely shit bored at work because theres no point in me being here (but also feelin guilty bc im essencial)#and then having four mandatory calls on covid per week since we’re a major industry trying to create a vaccine #im just feeling overwhelmed mentally but also not???#idk its a trauma response and im just ://///#mentally checked out rn #im literally torn between being greatful/in a position of privledge (bc i recognize i am) and having nothing to do and being bored #my management team i work w can suck it since they are moving at a snails pace and i cant do my job until they finish theres #if i could id bring my own laptop in and just #do things but i could see ppl freaking out #that and im irritated bc the qm for the other center is just #sitting at home doing nothing but if i did that id be setting a bad example i-#i need abt 20 years of a break for some reason idk lads

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shyvioletcat · 4 years

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Rowan and Aelin talking about their dream house

Guess who’s back? Enjoy the return of our favourite firefighter.

Fluffy prompt-a-thon masterlist

Striking Matches Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin was only half way and she had given up. She had three more flights of stairs to go and she was puffed and exhausted and didn’t know how long it would take her to gather the strength to get up the rest of them. The fact that it was winter was a blessed relief, at least she didn’t have the heat to contend with, even though she was most definitely sweating. She was only 7 months pregnant and she was struggling to make it up the stairs. How was she supposed to do it once she was even more pregnant? How was she supposed to climb six flights of stairs with a baby?

Those were things that she had been thinking about a lot lately. She loved her little dingy apartment, or rather loved what had happened there. That was where she met Rowan, where the whole door fiasco had happened. He had proposed to her in that apartment, carried her all the way up these damned stairs after they had got married. The apartment meant a lot to her, but it was getting more and more obvious that their time here was running out.

Finally catching her breath and willing away the tears in her eyes Aelin started to climb again. And she refused to stop until she got to the apartment door, even if that meant she had gone at a snail's pace at some points. She was just glad that Rowan wouldn’t be home and she would be able to compose herself and swallow back her emotions for when he got home, hopefully. Her emotions and hormones had not been her friends of late. So when she opened the door and saw him sitting on the couch it caught her unawares and she almost burst into tears at the sight of him.

Rowan immediately saw that something was wrong and he was up from the couch, taking her work bag from her and put it on the ground before gathering her into his arms.

“Aelin,” he said onto her head and she held him tighter. “Love, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Aelin said into his chest, her voice muffled. “It’s just a lot of stairs.”

Rowan kissed her head once then let her go. “You sit down, I’ll get you some water.”

Aelin did just that, sitting on the couch and taking her shoes off her swollen feet. Rowan was back in a few moments, giving her the bottle of water as he sat down beside her. Aelin immediately lent into his side, taking comfort of the feeling of his body against hers. Then she took a drink.

“What are you doing home?” Aelin asked, her voice still a little strained.

“I convinced Lorcan to let me be on call from home,” Rowan said. That explained while he was in his uniform. “I had a feeling you might need me.”

That was what broke the dam on Aelin’s tears. Damn him and his intuition.

“We can’t stay here,” Aelin said before he could ask. “We can’t stay here and that makes me sad. Because this place was so important to us, but we can’t have a baby here. I can’t do the stairs pregnant, I can’t do the stairs with the baby. There will always be so much to carry and I know I can’t do it. We can’t do it.”

Rowan looked down at her, as she looked up at him. “I know.”

“You do?” Aelin asked.

“Yeah,” Rowan said, the left corner of his mouth dropping in a frown. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

“You have?”

Rowan just nodded. Then they were both quiet for a while, both just thinking Aelin guessed. That's what Aelin was doing, a thousand different thoughts running through her mind. All of it getting a little overwhelming. Would they buy? Would they rent? Where would they go? When would they go? They were on a pretty defined deadline.

“One step at a time,” Rowan said quietly, no doubt reading the tension in her body. “We don’t even know what we want.”

Rowan was right again, they had never really talked about moving in a real sense. It was one of those things they just assumed they would do when the time was right.

“What’s your dream house?” Rowan asked, relaxing back into the couch. “What makes or breaks the deal?”

Aelin took another sip of water as she thought. “I think it has at least four bedrooms.”

“Four?” Rowan said looking down, brows high. “What on earth are we going to do with all those rooms?”

Aelin smiled coyly up at him, her hand running over her belly. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Rowan chuckled. “I think I want a place with our own private bathroom.”

“Why’s that?” Aelin asked.

“Privacy,” Rowan said simply.

“For?” Aelin pressed.

Rowan just rolled his eyes at her. “Whatever your imagination wants, Aelin.”

That made Aelin laugh, then she glanced around the room. “I want a dining area. Somewhere we can have a real dining table. And a big kitchen. Not huge, but big enough that we can move around in it together without running into each other.”

“I like running into you in the kitchen,” Rowan said.

“But things always burn, or we’re late. I think it’s best if we have some space,” Aelin explained matter of factly, but she didn’t miss how Rowan's arm tightened around her at the mention of taking ‘space’, like the thought of it right now was abhorrent. Aelin found his hand and squeezed it. “I want a yard. Big enough so we can get a dog.”

“And space for the baby to play and run,” Rowan added.

“I want the house to be cute too,” Aelin told him. “I don’t want some ugly modern thing. I want it to have character.”

“I like that idea,” Rowan said. “Maybe we could find a place on the edge of the city. Still close enough that we can keep our jobs, but a little quieter, more land.”

“I think I would like that,” Aelin agreed. “I don’t want to leave all our friends.”

“Even Lorcan?” Rowan asked.

Aelin let out a burst of laughter. “Yes, even Lorcan. But mainly for Elide’s sake, but please don’t tell him that.”

By some divine intervention Rowan wasn’t called out to an incident, so they spent the whole evening talking about and discussing their new house. They playfully fought over room colours as they ate dinner, whether they would have carpet or floorboards in the bedrooms as they half paid attention to the show on the TV, discussed what exactly they would use all those bedrooms for while they got ready for bed. By the time Aelin was tucked into Rowan’s side under the covers they had a decent idea of what exactly they wanted from a house.

Unbeknown to Aelin, Rowan started looking while she was asleep, trawling through pages of houses. By the time his own eyelids were dropping he hadn’t found anything, but he knew he would find something, it might just take a little bit of time.

~~~~~

It took Rowan about 2 weeks to find something that fit almost all their requirements. He hadn’t expected to find the perfect home but this came pretty damned close.

He’d spent the night at the station on night shift, using the quiet the time waiting looking through every real estate site he could think of searching for right house. And found it he did. It was nearly 2 am so he didn’t call or message Aelin in case she was sleeping, something she was getting less and less of these days, but it left him humming with an excited energy.

When he walked through the apartment door Aelin was in the kitchen making herself breakfast. Rowan went straight to her, kissing her sweetly before holding his phone up for her to look at.

“Rowan, what…”

Rowan watched for her reaction, as her brows furrowed in confusion but then when she saw what was on her screen her eyes went wide.

“It’s… that’s perfect,” Aelin said, taking his phone from him.

“Well, it’s not,” Rowan said, swiping his fingers across the screen to flick through the photos. “The kitchen is old and terrible and the paint job throughout the old house is retro and not in a good way. But those are all things we could fix. The yard is huge, there’s this big old tree in the yard we could hang a swing from. It’s got some flaws, but I don’t think we’ll find anything much better.”

“I love it Rowan,” Aelin said, putting his phone on the counter and wrapping her hands around his neck. “I’ll contact the real estate on my lunch break and –”

“I already have,” Rowan said with a smile. “I’ve emailed them, expressing our interest. I’ve got it all started.”

Aelin grinned and then kissed him. “Thank you, Rowan. You are too perfect.”

Rowan smiled, “Anything for you, my love.”

~~~~~

I just love these two SO MUCH!

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