#fair warning the beginning of this scene is a little triggering

[nofomogirl]

Before the Beginning (part 1.5.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.2. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4.

In this post, I'm going to wrap part 1 up and I won't lie, I'm really nervous. I feel like I've made a tall and wobbly tower of blocks and now I need to make something coherent out of it. Make all this rambling have a point.

Plus, I'll need to talk about Final Fifteen, and that's inherently nerve-wracking.

You say I've already written about it? Whole 9 posts about Metatron's manipulation, picking it apart step by step? Yes, I did. But that's the point - it was about Metatron. I skipped the worst part - the last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley.

I couldn't avoid it forever. Let's scratch and poke at that wound.

Fair warning though: there won't be any stark revelations. I'm just processing things by writing about them.

Let's start with some facts. These are all hard canon:

Crowley used to be an angel

Aziraphale used to know him back then

They both remember it, at least partly

The Fall transformed Crowley

And these are not canonical facts, but relatively safe guesses:

They don't talk about it

Crowley avoids thinking about it

Aziraphale has no clue how Crowley feels about it

Honestly, it appears that Crowley's pre-Fall identity is more of a taboo for him than the Fall itself. Sure, the Fall is still a sore topic, and he doesn't exactly discuss it, but he is talking about it, if only a little bit, and on some occasions he even brings it up himself. But when his angelic past is mentioned he just refuses to go there. He shuts it down on the spot with no regard for the circumstances.

This exact happened in Final Fifteen, except this time Aziraphale wasn't just pointing out Crowley used to be an angel, he also suggested Crowley may become an angel.

Just look at the dialogue, especially Crowley's responses.

M: (...) it might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status. C: He said what? A: He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer. C: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then? A: Not at all. C: Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not rejoining their team. Neither should you.

A lot of people pointed out how they were talking past each other the whole scene, not really hearing what the other was saying. I wholeheartedly agree and I think it started right here, with Crowley refusing to acknowledge and address what Aziraphale had said and ever so subtly - most likely unconsciously - steering the conversation away from the topic and into the miscommunication storm.

I mean, just look at what happened. In slow motion.

Metatron offered Aziraphale the job of the supreme archangel.

Aziraphale said No, I don't want to.

Metatron then altered the offer and said if Aziraphale took the job, he could turn Crowley back into an angel.

Problems start here.

S3 may change my mind but right now I am convinced Aziraphale doesn't really understand what the Fall was. He doesn't understand what it was objectively, and he doesn't understand what it means to Crowley personally. This is why Metatron's offer seems so attractive to him. He sees only pros and no cons. He cannot fathom what could be undesirable about it.

Metatron, on the other hand, knows much much more. That's why he feels safe making this seemingly generous offer - he knows it will cost him nothing because Crowley won't take it. Not only that, he knows the mere mention will trigger Crowley, and make him irrational. That in turn will upset and trigger Aziraphale thus making him more vulnerable and easier to manipulate.

Back to the scene.

Aziraphale goes to Crowley and reiterates Metatron's offer to him. He tells him that if he takes it, Crowley can be an angel again.

Now this is the important part. How does Crowley respond to it?

He immediately gets angry. Not amusingly annoyed or endearingly peeved, but properly angry.

And then he goes on a rant about why he and Aziraphale shouldn't rejoin their old sides. And that's... not entirely relevant.

For quite some time I couldn't figure out why Aziraphale's "Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys" didn't upset me as much as it logically should. Sure, I'm Aziraphale's defender and apologist but this line is objectively unfair to Crowley. I should be disappointed and frustrated. So why would I feel like I wanted to agree with it, even though my brain clearly didn't?

Then it finally clicked. It wasn't what Aziraphale said, especially not the "you're the bad guys" part. It was about his tone. I could relate viscerally to how ridiculous he found Crowley's argument to be. Because honestly Crowley, baby, what are you talking about? What do you think you're proving to your angel here? How is the offer you were made to go back to Hell even remotely comparable?

Sure, they appear to be almost the same on the surface. Beelzebub told Crowley he could go back to Hell, and become a Duke. Metatron told Aziraphale he could go back to Heaven and become a Supreme Archangel. But that similarity disappears if - unlike Crowley - you don't conveniently take bits and pieces out of context but look at the whole thing.

Beelzebub's offer was that if Crowley helped them find Gabriel he would be allowed to go back to Hell and become a Duke. Metatron's offer was that if Aziraphale returned to Heaven and became the Supreme Archangel, he would be able to make Crowley an angel.

Rejoining his old side (with a promotion) was meant to be a prize for Crowley, but a price for Aziraphale.

Both of our ineffable spouses love Earth and given the absolute freedom of choice, they would like to live there forever. Preferably undisturbed by any supernatural institution in any way. I don't think anybody doubts that. Leaving Earth and getting involved with their former sides - no matter the rank - was the exact opposite of that, the exact opposite of what either of them wanted.

Crowley was offered that undesirable thing as a reward, so obviously he said no.

Aziraphale was offered that undesirable thing as a part of a package deal which also contained something he perceived as highly desirable, so obviously he considered it.

But Crowley reacted as if Metatron's offer was the same as Beelzebub's offer. As if it was all about Aziraphale being invited back to Heaven. He focuses on trying to convince the angel not to go, on explaining how Heaven isn't good at all, and finally on confessing and offering to run away together. He tries everything except responding to the actual offer and simply saying he doesn't want to be an angel.

I believe the main reason was what I listed among the safe guesses - that it was too difficult to talk or even think about. So he focused on the other part instead. It came easily because (a) anything that wasn't thinking about himself as an angel was great at the moment, and (b) the idea of Aziraphale leaning toward Heaven yet again was something he had strong feelings and opinions about.

Sadly, Aziraphale helped him steer the conversation away from the point with his response. The infamous "you're the bad guys. But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth. Of Light. Of Good."

I believe that was a point of no return beyond which the whole situation couldn't be saved. Not right then and there. Not without both of them stepping away and calming down. But somebody made sure they wouldn't be able to do it...

And the worst part is, I don't think there was all that much faith behind Aziraphale's words. I firmly believe he honestly wasn't interested in taking Metatron's offer unless Crowley went with him. But as he got unbalanced he fell into old mental grooves.

If you don't mind, I'll stop here. I neither have it in me to break apart the entire conversation (perhaps I'll face this monster one day but no promises) nor is it necessary for this series of posts.

The point of which - in case you've forgotten, which I, admittedly, made very easy for you - is that (1) Crowley was substantially transformed by the Fall, (2) he does not identify with his past angelic persona and is pretty much unable to think about himself in those terms, (3) Aziraphale severely underestimates the depth of the transformation, (4) has very little knowledge and understanding about Crowley's feelings on the entire matter, and (5) it let him to making a lot of assumptions.

Another thing I am not going to discuss here is what Aziraphale thinks he's offering Crowley. Perhaps the subject will get its turn one day. For now, suffice it to say, that what Aziraphale is offering - or rather what Metatron has offered - is most definitely NOT what Aziraphale believes it to be.

In the opening post, I pointed out that angel!Crowley didn't have any visible serpentine traits (he had brown eyes with regular round irises and he didn't have his sigil/tattoo), and I proposed a theory that it's supposed to hint at a lack of serpentine nature. That Crowley wasn't originally a snake but became one during or after the Fall.

If we look at Aziraphale's offer through these lenses, Crowley's unyielding rejection of it takes on a whole different meaning. It isn't about principles anymore or about Crowley's feelings getting hurt or his worth possibly being questioned. It isn't symbolic. It's very real.

The offer to restore Crowley to full angelic status very likely means a repetition of the Fall - a painful transformation that mangles the spirit and alters parts of a person beyond repair.

The offer to make Crowley an angel may very well mean the eradication of snake!Crowley.

I don't believe Aziraphale understands it.

Crowley couldn't bear thinking about it so he never talked about it.

Thus concludes part 1.

I am very emotionally tired.

Thank you for reading.

#good omens #good omens 2 #post series #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #very long post #before the beginning #final fifteen

[cevansbrat0007]

Tulip

Summary: You find yourself using your safeword while role-playing a scene with Andy.

Warnings: Smut, Role Play, Degradation, Aggressive Andy, Submissive Reader, Spanking, Safe Wording, Panic Attack, Aftercare, Concerned Andy, Soft!Andy, Past Abuse (mentioned), CMNF, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for my friend, @birdie-girl - Please heed the warnings. I don’t want anyone to be inadvertently triggered by the content below. Part of my Growing Pains Series. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! 

—

You force yourself to take a deep breath as you stand outside of your boss’ office. Smoothing your hands down the fabric of your pink blouse and black pleated skirt, you desperately hope that the man is in a good mood for once. Squaring your shoulders, you open his door and then somehow manage to trip over your own two feet.

“You’re late.” He growls without looking up from his computer as you practically tumble inside the room holding a large stack of files. 

“I know, Mr. Barber, and I’m so sorry. There was an issue with the printers this morning and it took poor Reggie from I.T. forever to fix it. But I’ve got the documents you requested so -”

“Did I say I wanted to hear your excuses?”

“Um…” Your teeth begin to gently worry your lower lip. “No, sir, you did not.”

“Then why are you still talking?”

That shuts you up real fast. What an ass. 

You stand there in the middle of his office, unsure of what to do as you try to keep your knees from wobbling. 

“Jesus Christ. Don’t just stand there, Y/N. Have a seat already.” Not needing to be told twice, you plop yourself into one of his cushy office chairs. 

Mr. Barber, the CEO of Spotlight Enterprises, was the most handsome and intimidating male specimen that you’d ever laid eyes on. At just over six feet tall, the man was nothing but pure muscle. Couple that with his thick, tawny locks, his perfectly trimmed beard, and his intoxicating blue eyes…

Let’s just say that everyone you worked with was either terrified of him, attracted to him, or both. 

And you fell solidly into the last category. 

After what seems like forever, he finally manages to pull himself away from his screen. 

“Do you have everything I requested?” He asks, motioning for you to hand over the folders you were holding. 

“Yes, sir.” At least you hoped you did. 

“Can’t blame me for having my doubts.” He mutters as he thumbs through various pages. “You’re far from the best assistant I’ve ever had. Even on your good days.”

You bow your head as you feel shame begin to creep over your features. 

That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t that you were bad at your job, it was that the man you worked for had a well-known reputation for being difficult. 

“I can go if you’d like a few quiet moments to review. I know how it feels to try to work with someone constantly looking over your shoulder.” You offer up a weak laugh.

“Stay where you are. And you need someone looking over your shoulder because you are apparently incapable of functioning on your own.” He looks up at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and shakes his head.

Over the next few minutes, you watch as he grows increasingly frustrated. His brow furrows, his jaw clenches. 

“You know, Y/N, sometimes I’m convinced you like making my life difficult.”

“What? I - no! I gave you what you asked for, sir.” You try and fail to keep the panic out of your voice.

“No.” He snarls as he tosses three files into the waste bin. “No, you silly girl, you did not. I asked you for the Watson, Duncan, and Markish accounts and what did you bring me?” He picks up the garbage can. “You brought me the Walker, Dresden, and Matya files.”

“That - that can’t be right!” You stammer. “I brought you all of the accounts you requested in your email. I know I did!” 

Mr. Barber just shakes his head. “You know how much I hate when people waste my time, especially you.” He mutters. “Get up and go lock my door. I’m going to show you what happens to dumb little girls who can't seem to do their job.”

You feel hot tears prick the backs of your eyes at his words. 

“Mr. Barber, sir, I’ll go reprint everything right now. It’ll take me ten minutes tops -”

“Go. Lock. My. Door.” He grunts. “Show me you can do as you’re told.”

Your mouth is suddenly dry as you move to comply. Once the lock is in place, you step back and await further instructions. 

“Remove your skirt, Y/N.” Your boss purrs, his deep voice pitched to arouse. “Slowly.”

Once again, you do as he asks, revealing the lacy, jade green panties he’d purchased for you.

And had ordered you to wear. Today.  

Scooting his chair back, he pats his lap. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Keeping your head down, you walk over to him and place yourself over his knee. You wince as he caresses your curvy backside before he yanks down your panties and delivers a hard smack, making you yelp. 

“You precious little idiot.” He hisses before landing another blow. “Because of you, I have to cancel my 3:00pm meeting so I don’t show up looking unprepared.” Mr. Barber slaps your ass again. “And it’s all your fault.” 

Each word is peppered by a rough smack to your ass.   

“You can't do anything right, can you?" Another smack. "Swear to God, you’re so lucky you’re pretty, baby. Because I’m starting to think that you are as dumb as they come. I can’t even begin to fathom how you’ve gotten this far.”

You can’t help the tears as they begin to fall. You weren’t dumb, damn it. You had graduated at the top of your class!

“You had better take your punishment like the grown woman you pretend to be, my dumb baby girl, before I decide to make things worse.” 

The tears are falling harder now. 

You didn’t like this game anymore. 

“Pretty sure I’ve met bricks smarter than you.” He growls, as the blows cease and his big hand moves to massage your vulnerable pussy, prompting you to try to wiggle off his hard lap. “And yet here we are. At least you know how to suck dick. Might be the only thing you’re good at.” 

You feel your body begin to shake.  

“Should make you get on your hands and knees and beg to keep your job." 

And that’s when you break. 

“Tullip.” You whisper, your voice coming out rough as you begin to hyperventilate. “Tullip.”

Everything stops immediately, and your body is quickly maneuvered so that you’re sitting upright. Try as you might, you can’t catch your breath. Your body keeps shaking, whimpering, and wheezing without your permission. 

“Hey, Y/N, baby.” Andy coos as he rubs your back. “Baby, calm down. It’s over. We’re done.”

You try, but you can’t.

“Okay, Okay. Okay.” Your boyfriend takes your hand and presses it against his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat. “Everything’s alright, baby girl. You’re alright. I just need you to slow down your breathing. Breathe with me, Y/N. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You struggle to do as he asks, but eventually, you manage. 

“Good girl. Again. In through your nose - there we go - and out through your mouth.”

Andy makes you repeat this exercise several more times as he gently rests his forehead against your own.  

“That’s it.” He murmurs when your breathing finally begins to even out. “You’re safe, you hear me? Can you please acknowledge that you hear my voice?”

“I - I hear you.” You manage between the occasional hiccup. “I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m not stupid. Or dumb. Or an idiot. Or a brick. I’m not. I’m not!” You find yourself screaming the last part. 

Your father used to call you those things. And no matter how many times you asked him to stop, he never did. But your man stopped. You remind yourself. He stopped when you asked. 

“Of course you’re not, my beautiful girl.” Andy tells you as he rocks you back and forth. “You’re the smartest, sweetest, sassiest little thing I’ve ever met.” Sliding his chair over to his mini-fridge, your boyfriend pulls out two cold bottles of water. He then opens one and gently holds it to your lips.

“Small, slow sips, my love.” You let out a small sigh as he rests the other unopened bottle at the base of your neck. “There we go.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after you drain every last drop.

“Stop it, Y/N. You have nothing to be sorry for - that’s why we have that word. Keep holding this to the back of your neck. It’ll help cool you down.” He says as he picks you up and carries you out of his office and into the living room. 

Once you’re both safely snuggled up on the couch, you allow yourself to bury your face in your Big Man’s chest before realizing that you needed more.

“Skin.” You tug at his shirt. “I need to feel you please.” 

Nodding, Andy makes quick work of undoing the buttons and removing his dress shirt. And then he removes yours, along with your bra, leaving you naked and him still in his slacks. But you didn’t care, so long as you were able to touch him. Feel him.

“Better?”

“Uh huh.” He takes the still cold bottle of water and presses it to your chest. 

“You ready to talk to me yet, little love? What happened? Did I spank you too hard?”

Andy sincerely doubted that that was the issue. 

“No. It was - it was the words. My father used to say some of those things to me. And to hear you call me a “dumb baby girl” instead of your “good girl” while we were playing rough…it…it threw me a bit.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. You know I don’t really think of you that way. And I didn’t realize about your Dad either…”

And then a thought strikes him. 

“He, uh, he didn’t ever tell you to beg…did he?”

Andy’s blood begins to boil when he feels you tense against him. Fuck! Yes, you two had been playing a game earlier, but he hated that the words he'd used had set you off like this.

“He did. Once.” You whisper. “We had a fight when I was in my twenties while I was living with him and my mom. Later when I tried to approach him and talk things out, he told me that the only way I could continue to stay there was if I begged him. My mom didn't believe me when I told her what happened, and since I’m not built to do that, I left the next day.” 

“Shit, Y/N, baby girl…” Unsure of what else to say, he continues to gently stroke his fingers across the soft skin of your belly. “I’m so sorry. ”

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“I’m proud of you for sharing with me. And I’m even more proud that you didn’t let him win like that. You don’t ever need to beg for anyone’s acceptance. Not your father’s, not mine. Swear to God I will never ask you to do that.” Andy begins to sweetly pepper your face with kisses. 

“I know you wouldn’t. And I like it when we play rough. It’s just that, um, that scene didn’t work for me the way I thought it would. But I still wanna play sometimes.”

“Okay, and we will. But we’ll just have to talk it through a little more next time. Figure out what words might upset you in real life. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Now, I’m going to get us a blanket and when I come back, I’ll order us something to eat." He says, just in time for your stomach to rumble. "Do you feel shaky at all? Do you - you know what? Never mind. There’s a Gatorade in the fridge. I’m going to snag it, and you’re going to sip it for me, sweet girl.”

“Okay.” You respond, smiling up at him. 

“God, how I love that smile.” He leans down to cup your face for just a second. “You just take it easy and let me take care of you. That’s an order, Missy, from the man who loves you more than anything.” Your Andy Bear winks at you before trotting away.

Well, if you hadn't been in love with the man before, you certainly were now.

END   

#chris evans #andy barber #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans black!reader #andy barber black!reader #chris evans woc!reader #andy barber woc!reader #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #cevansbrat0007 asks #cevansbrat0007 fics #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans x you #chris evans female!reader #chris evans x yn

[lore-gore]

Ride The Cyclone Open Roleplay

Doing a Ride The Cyclone roleplay.

Jane Doe: Taken by me

Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg: Taken by @democracyrockzz

Noel Gruber: Taken

Constance Blackwood: @jane-does-head @thenicestgirlintown

Mischa Bachinski: Taken by @max--jagerman

Ricky Potts: Taken by @krowsselfindulgy (@spacingbachelorette)

This will be the main trigger warning for the beginning of every scene:

Tw: death, unreality, body horror, implied gore, yelling, trauma, loss of identity, horny teens being horny teens

This will also be in the tags.

Any other trigger warnings should be added to reblogs as well as tags.

The concept is basically if Karnak died before ressurecting anyone. So it's just them doing silly shenanigans as ghosts, singing songs we think they would sing, and probably a bit of angst. It will mainly act as a follow up to the 2016 bootleg version, with yannick's edits of course. (If you headcanon a different performance of your song for your character that's fine.)

We will also create character sheets consisting of name, gender, pronouns, age, sexuality, sign, birthday, favorite ride, appearance, personality, backstory, and "the most _ in town." (Mine is the only one without a sign, birthday, and favorite ride. If you forget, don't worry, I can edit it in.)

It's how you imagine the characters, with a mix of headcanons and canon.

The uniforms are the same as the 2016 ones but without the plaid.

How they wear their uniform and how they accessorize is up to you.

You can interpret the characters however you'd like, but make sure to stay faithful to their base character traits. (Things like Noel being gay and Misha being Ukrainian. Also Ricky using MOBILITY AIDS THANK YOU.)

Be as descriptive as possible. (See mine and my friends character sheets for examples!)

Also me and friends are high school students, so please only other high school students!

No NSFW roleplay. Talking about sex is fine, but no actual sex scenes! I'd prefer SFW blogs too.

Characters having crushes on other characters is allowed, but it might not be reciprocated. (Me and @democracyrockzz are pretty much planning to do perfectdolls.)

Every thread will be a scene. When you want to start a new scene, make a new thread. Give a synopsis of what the scene will be about, as well as the location in the fair.

Example:

New Scene

Synopsis: The choir plays a board game.

@democracyrockz reblogged

Ocean: Guys look what I found!

(Ocean emerges with a board game)

Noel's roleplayer reblogged

Noel: Oh god, no.

It will be a public thread so people who aren't in the roleplay can still enjoy it.

No racist, sexist, ableist, saneist, colorist, binarist, pigmentist, homophobic, transphobic, biphobic, panphobic, acephobic, enbyphobic, queerphobic, xenophobic, islamophobic, fatphobic, misogynistic, transmisogynistic, body shaming, "pro-life", transid, "MAPS", pro contact para, TERF, anti semitic, anti neopronouns, anti xenogenders, anti mspec, anti BLM, anti feminist, or incel blogs.

Toxic behavior will not be tolerated. Hate comments will be deleted.

To claim your character, simply comment who you want to play or DM me.

Afterwords, write your character sheet. Take your time, the person playing Noel won't be ready for a little while so don't be rushed. (I'm getting ahead of time.) Make sure to tag me too.

Also let me know what to add to the main tw. If you plan on having your character bring a sensitive topic up, I need to add it.

I will then put your character sheet in the pinned post of my side blog @mystery-contestant. Make sure to follow it!

If you want to make changes to your already posted character sheet, edit the original post and send me a message letting me know!

You will know the roleplay has started as I will announce it on my side blog. I will be starting off the first "scene."

Also if there's something you think should be a main tw let me know!

We will be starting this summer!

Jane's character sheet!

Ocean's Character sheet!

Ricky's Character sheet!

Constance's Character sheet!

Breakdown of edits!

More:

#tw death #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone musical #rtc musical #rtc #constance ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone constance #ricky ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone ricky #mischa ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone mischa #constance rtc #rtc constance #ricky rtc #rtc ricky #mischa rtc #rtc mischa #ride the cyclone roleplay #rtc roleplay #ride the cyclone au #ricky potts #constance blackwood #mischa bachinski

[majesticwren]

due to high demand - me. I'm high demand. this entire project is being written entirely for my pleasure, be warned I'm being extremely self-indulgent - I've decided to write a little prequel to the events that take place here. this is set in 2018 and is the beginning of Fletch x OFC. billy will have his own little prequel at some point. enjoy.

Trigger Warning/s: alcohol consumption, mention of addiction, mention of sex, mention of trauma, sexual harassment, swearing, OFC is her own trigger warning she is damaged goods and slightly toxic, kyle is a little baby, mark is being overprotective and extremely toxic sorry not sorry, angst, mainly friends to lovers/impossible relationship dynamics.

nuclear season: part I -> | part II -> | part III -> prequel: part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

January 2018

There was always something melancholically romantic about an empty venue after a show. Seeing a place that had been crowded, hot and loud for hours suddenly empty and silent had a particular bittersweet vibe to it.

Erika sat on one of the foldable chairs at ringside, one leg crossed over her knee, swinging her foot to the beat of the seconds, looking around as she waited. Trying to pass the time, she fiddled with a lock of her hair.

The lights of the venue were now all switched on, making the ring at the centre of the room look extremely surgical. A couple of RevPro workers were dismantling it, pulling the apron and starting to take down the ropes. Erika moved her attention to another person on the other side of the room who was folding up the chairs, ready to load them away.

Erika tapped her foot on the floor. It was sticky under the sole of her show because of the spilt over drinks. She took some time to count the abandoned plastic cups and forgotten items she could see all over the place, making it look like the crowd partied hard. Which wasn’t far from reality. They had a good crowd at the show that night and everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves wrestlers and guests alike.

She was proud of many of the pictures she had taken. There was a content smile nested on her lips as she was aware she had probably made rent with that event.

There were many pros to working in wrestling. It was a career she hadn’t considered before, even though she had been around the scene for years since her brother was such a massive fan and had been wrestling already for over ten years. So, she had her fair bit of knowledge and was charmed by that world but had never thought it possible to make a career out of it.

Still, now she wasn’t entirely convinced her dream had come true. Somehow, she thought she didn’t deserve it and considered it a privilege. She had hurt and disappointed so many people before, too used to being a problematic teenager than this new responsible adult that Erika was convinced it was only a matter of time before she fell into her old habits again.

But, at the moment, she was enjoying doing what she was doing and paying her living doing liked most. Photography was her life. She loved taking pictures, framing moments and making them hers forever. Plus, her job was fun and granted her the possibility not only to travel and meet many people, but she got to do it all with her dear big brother.

The most important part of following that dream, though, was that it gave her the chance to leave Australia for good. She had followed Mark to the UK only for a few weeks now and yet she hadn’t missed home once. She was always convinced that remaining in Brisbane would have meant the withering of her. There was too much of her past there and she just knew she would have never escaped it.

But, no matter how far she travelled, there was a fear always hidden inside of her that painfully reminded her how easily she could have slipped and ruined her life again.

So easy. So tempting.

“Hey, there,”

She jumped, startled when she heard that voice so close. Erika gasped, placing a hand on her chest as her gaze distractedly lifted on the tall, slim boy approaching her.

“Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to scare ya,”

Erika focused her attention on Kyle and melted into a smile, shaking her head. “Please, don’t be sorry. I was miles away.”

He approached her with a soft smile crossing his fair features. He looked like an elf, with his sharp edges, high cheekbones and glimmering, light eyes. There was something about the boy she was attracted to like a magnet. She couldn’t explain it but she couldn’t take her attention off him either. Although she didn’t trust herself enough to let herself go in that feeling. She and boys weren’t a good match. Her past was full of bad decisions and she had no intention of making another one.

Especially with a pretty, sweet boy like Kyle seemed to be. Especially since he was so close to Mark not only as his colleague and team partner but being taken in like a little brother as well. She just couldn’t risk it.

“Can I sit?” He pointed at the chair to her side.

“Of course,” Erika nodded, trying to shake the cringe off herself. Her skin rippled in goosebumps only thinking about having him too close. She couldn’t think too clearly when he looked at her, which was just ridiculous.

He dropped his bag with his ring gear on the floor and fell heavily on the little chair distending his long legs. “So, what do you think about the show?”

“I think it was great!” Erika smiled, looking at him and damning herself for the excitement it gave her to share a moment alone with Kyle. She felt the butterflies in her stomach warming up. “That move you did,” she tried to regain focus, looking back on the ring, “off the top buckle? That was so good!”

“You think?” He wondered following her eyes to the ring. “I thought I landed badly and everyone noticed.”

“Well, if you did, I didn’t see it.” Erika didn’t mention how closely she was looking at his moves. She cleared her voice, lifting her professional camera. “I took a cool shot of your front flip mid-air, wanna see?”

“Hell yeah,” Kyle scooted closer, looking over her shoulder as she fiddled with her camera.

Erika tried her best to remain calm and not react to his closeness but it was hard. His scent was inebriating, he smelled of clean linen and lavender. It made her mouth water and her hands shake with the desire to push her face into his neck and inhale.

She shrugged off a shiver, concentrating on the dozens and dozens of pictures she was scrolling through and then smiled when she finally found the one, showing it to him from the small camera screen. “There it is. It will look a thousand times better once I develop it. But even like this, it looks pretty good.”

“Shit me,” Kyle attentively took her camera into his hands, handling it with care as he looked into the screen, examining the picture she took. “Is that how I look when I do it?”

Erika nodded. “Cool uh? You look very good.”

“Could I have a copy of the picture once you develop it?”

“Of course! I mean, I generally do give the guys I work for a hard copy and a file copy that I share with the wrestlers too. So, you’ll be good to go.”

“Can I have a look at the rest of the pictures?”

“Yes,” Erika cleared her voice, “I mean, I haven’t peaked through them so most of them will be off-focus or blurry but sure.”

As he pressed the little arrow button, starting to look at all the pictures she had taken of the evening, Erika slowly started to feel a warm feeling spread through her. She was suddenly fidgety, wondering what went on in his mind as he looked at what she could do. It was somehow intimate, showing to him. Erika’s pictures were used by companies and wrestlers alike on their socials, but no one knew it came from her, there. This felt like Kyle just had access to a very personal window of how she viewed the world.

“Wow, you are good at this,” Kyle smiled distractedly, still scrolling through her work. “These are so good.”

Erika blushed. And immediately froze, feeling panic settling in her nerves. She looked away, imposing herself to find some control over her emotions. She had never blushed before, not for a boy anyway.

“Thank you,” she pushed her hand out, hinting to him to give her back the camera. “It won’t take me long to get the pictures fixed up and printed, so you can see them once they are done.”

“Do you have a studio?” He wondered with interest stretching on the chairs by his side.

Erika shook her head. “I will in a few weeks. I am trying to get a lease on a tiny hole of an office from where I’ll be able to work. I am planning to have a proper dark room and maybe even a desk space to hire an assistant. But for now, I am doing it the old-fashioned way,”

“What’s that?”

“My laptop.” She explained shrugging, “It’s a bit of a hit or miss kind of job, sometimes it pays well, sometimes it doesn’t. But I think I can make it work better If I get access to an office space.”

“Like an investment.”

“Yes,” Erika smiled, appreciating his care to know details about her more than what she was supposed to. “Exactly that.”

“Are you coming out with us tonight?” He then wondered leaning his head to the side.

She felt his eyes on her and wanted to bask under his attention. She had never had a problem with that. Generally, she thrived when she was under the spotlight. She was a very confident young woman aware of her appearance. Maybe too much, sometimes. She had won many things, in the past, because of her pretty face. Especially hearts. She was used to having it her way, but when she decided she wanted someone there wasn’t escaping it. Except with Kyle felt different. She didn’t want to conquer him or win him over. She liked him. Not only his appearance, even though his large smile made her feel things she had never felt before. The real deal was the kindness of heart he had; he was so polite in the way he behaved, and he wore his heart on his sleeve and wasn’t apologetic about it.

Plus, he was spoiling her. Kyle made her feel seen and listened to in ways she wasn’t used to. Which said a lot about the relationships or situationships she had in the past.

And that was precisely why it was so dangerous to play with that fire and she did everything in her power to fight against it. She could see it would lead to ruin for all parties involved.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” She looked away, sadness settling in, aching in her chest.

She wanted to go. She wanted to spend some time socialising. She wanted to be around him. But precisely because he seemed to want her there, she was better off staying away from booze and pretty boys.

“What!? Really? There’s a darts tournament between the guys, sure you want to miss that? I mean not to brag, but I’d beat you at darts.” He winked.

Erika felt flushed. “I’d love that because I think I might be good a darts” she damned herself as soon as she said that, “But I have an early train in the morning. Can’t miss it.”

“Oh, I see. Well. that’s a shame,”

“Next time, maybe?”

“You are on.”

“Oi,” A deep, thunderous voice echoed through the empty venue. Both she and Kyle jumped on their seat, turning over to find Mark waiting. “Ready to go?”

Erika huffed, looking over at her brother studying them. He didn’t seem too happy and she knew why. So, even before he could say anything, she jumped up and grabbed her back and jacket, putting some distance with Kyle.

“What were you doing?” He wondered quietly once she was close.

Erika shrugged. “Nothing, we were waiting for you.”

Before he could say anything more, Kyle approached her side and the two exchanged a fist bump. Mark didn’t continue, but she could see the concern hiding in his gaze. And it hurt her.

Mark hid behind a smile as he welcomed the boy, “Hey, mate,” he was so affectionate to Kyle that it made her heartache. She was happy they met. Kyle was a good friend to her brother. But, again, that was yet another complication and another reason for her to stay as far from the Aussie as she could.

“I’m gonna head home,” she started, hinting at the door as she fixed her bag on her shoulder.

“Yeah?” Mark looked at her, “I thought you were coming to the pub?”

“Nah,” Erika shook her head. She wished she didn’t but her gaze wandered on Kyle briefly. “I am quite tired. I think it’s for the best.”

“Okay,” Mark pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead. “Grab a cab though. I don’t want you around the underground alone at this hour.”

“I’ll call one now. You boys go ahead and have fun. I’ll leave the light on in the hall for you when you come home.”

She watched them approaching the venue door. Mark pulled Kyle under his arm as they walked and they merged with some of the other wrestlers on the show that same night. A few of the boys waved goodbye at her before they left. Just then, she approached the bar counter, releasing a soft sigh.

“Hey,” she hinted at the barman cleaning up, “would you be so kind to call me a cab, mate?” She wasn’t even trying to hide her disappointment. Just thinking about all that she may be missing made her heartache. It felt like the more distance there was between her and Kyle, the more she hurt.

Pathetic. She had to snap out of that little crush and get over it. And fast.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he stepped towards her, “can I get you a drink while you wait? On the house,” the boy winked at her. His flirtatious behaviour bounced right off her. His charm too, didn’t bother her.

“Nah, thank you, I am good.”

She could see the barman’s interest following her movements as he leaned on the counter in front of her. He was an attractive man, sure, and she had no doubt his pretty face and that little stunt of chatting up the ladies probably got him places before. She knew it all too well. She was it too. But even though she knew well how it worked and she felt like she should have been fluttered by his attention, maybe even intrigued, it just slid off her without making her feel a thing. If not slight discomfort.

Before he could say or ask something else, Kyle ran back in, approaching her. “Hey, Erika?”

“Yes?” She immediately turned towards him, not even noticing how much her heart and body moved for the Aussie. “What is it? You ok?”

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded, sliding a hand to the back of his neck. He was blushing so sweetly it made her think about strawberries. Though his eyes were bright and sharp as he looked at her. “I was wondering, could I have your number?”

Erika choked. She knew everything wrong with that. It was the same reason why she wasn’t allowing herself to go out. It was why she avoided being around the house alone with Fletch when Mark wasn’t around. It was why she had avoided being around him in general. Except when she didn’t and fell into whatever it was that attracted them like magnets.

It was stronger than her common sense, she was nodding even before she could think straight and kept being selfish as Kyle offered her his phone for her to type her number in.

He was smiling like an idiot. Or maybe it was her.

When he got his phone back, he held it like a trophy. “Thanks,”

“Don’t tell Mark,” She suggested, probably saying the first smart thing in a minute.  

Kyle offered her the largest of smiles and then dashed off.

As he left, she felt all the warmth he brought with him leaving her body and making her feel empty.

“That little prick has balls,” the guy behind the bar chuckled.

Erika smiled, still looking at the door. “That he does.”

“So, how is it that a pretty girl like you is not going out celebrating with all those boys?”

Erika tapped her nails on the wood, starting to feel an itch under her skin. She wanted to be vague, she knew what was the polite, British way of just generally saying stuff without actually saying anything to strangers. But she was too tired for that too. Politeness hardly got her anywhere.

“Well, let me tell you,” She began, “Got a crush on that little prick,” she vaguely pointed at the door, “he is my brother’s best friend and I can’t afford to fuck that up so,” she huffed, “I am staying well clear and doing everything in my power to get over him.”

“But you just gave him your number.”

“Yes, I never said I was smart at it.”

The guy behind the bar smiled. “I’m Matt, by the way,”

“Erika,” she said as they shook hands.

“So, Erika,” he looked up at her, hitting her up with a gaze she was sure had conquered many hearts before, “Want some help forgetting about the little prick?”

The proper way was to politely decline, get a cab, go home and do her best to accept going to bed alone. That would have been the new adult, mature way to deal with the situation. She was well aware of what was expected of her. But still chose otherwise.

The comfort of her old ways, knowing exactly what would have happened and how she would have felt was much better than knowing how much she was going to be eaten up by regrets, alone, in her little room.

“What time do you get off?” She wondered melting into a smile.

She didn’t much care for the guy himself. But he offered a distraction and it seemed like a valid idea not to think about Kyle.

“Half an hour.”

She nodded and took a seat on one of the stools, “In that case, I’ll take that drink, thank you.”

February 2018

A few weeks later, Erika stood in the centre of the small room she could call an office.

The place was a little dishevelled. It was dark, cold and a little dump; the rent was overpriced, but it was hers. The walls could have done with a new touch of paint, and she was convinced the space would have looked much more welcoming and personal with pictures hanging up; the carpet seriously needed a deep cleaning, and the sad curtains by the windows needed to be retired, but she still looked at it with the most pride.

A smile crossed her lips, and her heart was leaping out of her chest as she toyed with the set of keys the agency gave her. She still didn’t feel secure enough to trust her dream coming true, but that was a pretty big step forward compared to where she had come from only six months before.

“Hey-o,” she recognised Kyle’s voice immediately as he chirped from the entrance door, “anybody in there? Erika?”

Her heart jumped out of her chest.

“Come on in!” She welcomed him, skipping back to the door where she found the Aussie. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as he saw her, he whipped out a massive smile and pulled, from behind his back, a big bunch of colourful flowers and a bottle of bubbles. “Well, I thought the situation required celebrating!” He offered her his presents.

Erika’s chest tightened as she took the flowers and brought them up so she could smell them. Then she took the bottle too, looking at it with interest. She melted into a sweet smile, immediately damning herself for what she was feeling.

Whatever tied her to Kyle only got stronger and deeper day by day. She tried to fight it. She tried to deflect and lie to herself, pretending that ignoring it all was enough to make it disappear. And yet, Kyle was constantly there to remind her how wrong she was.

She just needed to look at him to feel a magnetism pulling her towards him, making her hands tremble with the need to touch him. But it was a constant battle she fought, leaving her feeling cold and empty every time she denied herself her wish.

And yet, he kept coming. He kept being there, around her, everywhere, even when they were far from each other, she still felt him. Every day he made it a point to wish her good morning and good night. He’d ask her about her day and listen with interest to everything she had to say. He’d make her laugh. He’d give her compliments. He was just present in her life. How she wished she could say confidently they were only friends.

But friends didn’t desperately wish to kiss each other.

Thinking about that made her realise she was looking at his lips and she had to force herself off the thought.

“Thank you, Fletch, this is so sweet of you,” she looked up at him, leaning her head to the side, “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Why did you think I asked you the address of this place?” He chuckled, “I wanted to make sure you welcomed this new chapter with the right energy.”

Erika smiled, absolutely smitten by him and his selfless, unashamed caring.

“Thank you,” before she could even think clearly and stop herself, she leaned in for a hug. Her intention was for it to be quick and polite. That was what friends did, wasn’t it? She couldn’t be further from the truth.

Kyle welcomed her with a soft hold and, by the time she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, the world stopped spinning.

Erika tightened her hold around him, only for Kyle to do the same, taking the initiative to lean his chin on the top of her head, cradling her softly.

There was no salvation after that for her. Erika was toasted. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest that she was sure he could feel it too. Her stomach twisted as warmth flooded through her, fuzzing her thoughts and waking up a hunger, a desire in her lower abdomen that would only hurt with every second she wouldn’t give into it.

“I wanted to be here for you, today,” he gave away, brushing a soft, intimate kiss on her temple.

Erika looked up at him and Kyle’s bright gaze fell into hers as he dived into her eyes. He was so close his scent was inebriating her senses. He looked so pretty she couldn’t take it.

“Did you come alone?”

Kyle nodded, “Your brother doesn’t even know I am here.”

Erika felt so dirty for lying to Mark.

They had kept a low profile, pretending nothing was going on and they hadn’t spent the past weeks texting. Sometimes they��d text from across the same room and Mark would take the piss out of Kyle for texting his “little lady”, not knowing she was the one receiving his interest. They made a little joke out of it, but Erika didn’t find it funny.

She hated shutting Mark out. He knew everything about her and could read her like a book. But he didn’t know that part. She was terrified of his reaction if he had known what was going on between her and Kyle, which was nothing. She lied to herself too, constantly. Even though the second she found herself around Kyle it was undeniable she was the most clueless of them all.

Erika gulped, looking down at Kyle’s lips again, unable not to, his mouth was so attractive to her. Especially when he was so close.

Kyle dared to cup her face in his palms. Erika sighed, closing her eyes and letting herself go in his soft hold. His hands were big and warm. And she was dying to feel them all over her.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, so close to her face she tasted his breath on her tongue. A hot shiver crossed her. “I like you, Erika. Been liking you a while.”

“Kyle,” she tried to find some common sense, although only the idea of refusing him ripped her chest apart. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

“Mark,” she was still holding the flowers and the bottle of bubbly in her hands, and even though she was trying to fight for her life not to succumb to him, she didn’t even dare to move an inch away. “He’d never approve.”

“Leave him to me. I am sure if there’s someone he’d like to be with his sister, that would be me.”

“No, Kyle, it’s not you the one he wouldn’t approve of. It’s me. I am not good for you,”

“Let me decide that.”

“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me,”

“Then tell me. I want to know you.”

Erika chuckled dryly, quickly dismissing him. He would have run away, as far as possible from her if he had known half of the things she did.

“I mean it,” he continued, “I want to know everything about you.”

“You make it so hard,” she whispered, moulding herself in his hold as Kyle softly caressed her jawline.

“I am not hearing a good reason to stop.” He leaned in, brushing his lips on her forehead, “Tell me no and I’ll fuck off. But if you want it too,” as he moved, hovering above her, Erika moved her head, raising her chin only so their lips would touch. “Then,” he continued, whispering so close to her mouth it gave her goosebumps.

Before he could continue, Erika took the worst decision of her life and, dropping the flowers on the floor, she grabbed him by his t-shirt and pulled him down in a kiss, desperately clinging onto him and releasing everything she had stopped herself from feeling for so long. Selfishly taking everything she wanted from him.

Kyle blindly closed the door behind him and then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him. His hands ran across her body, feeling her curves, grabbing on her clothes, only to pull her tighter against him.

Unapologetically, Kyle slipped a hand into her hair grabbing a handful and made her bend underneath him, deepening their kiss. As soon as their tongues crossed and his flavour exploded into her mouth, Erika released a soft moan, feeling her body waking up completely.

However, before she could slip into deeper waters of desire and future regrets, Erika gathered the strength to push him off herself.

“Kyle, please stop,” her breath was heavy as she kept her hand on his chest, not to keep him far from her but to feel him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He wondered, checking she was ok.

Erika shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. Because the only wrong she could identify in that entire situation was the distance between them.

She had a taste. She scratched the itch. That was going to be it. It was going to have to be enough.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We can’t happen. Please,” her heart shattered into a million pieces seeing the look he gave her. “Please,” she whispered again, almost getting lost in his eyes.

Kyle accepted her choice and let her go, taking two steps back. He leaned picking up the flowers and passed them over to her, shrugging awkwardly. “Here, take them.”

She felt defeated as she accepted the flowers back. She couldn’t bear the idea of seeing him leave and didn’t want to accept them being done. It was supposed to be the way, just severing their little fling or whatever, but she was stupid and selfish.

“Do you want a little tour?” She wondered, hoping Kyle would indulge her.

He didn’t disappoint and melted into a gentle smile, nodding. “I’d love to.”

They held hands as she showed him around, telling him everything about how she envisioned her studio.

March 2018

Erika stood ringside, her trusted camera at hand as she watched the match through its lenses.

The crowd was hot tonight. They clapped and booed, chanted and roared and were generally super involved in the matches, which was something she always loved to see.

Erika moved around the ring, taking every occasion to grab a shot, just like she always did, capturing as much of the energy in the ring as she could.

The two boys going at it right now were new in the company, she never met them before, but that didn’t change a single thing in the way the crowd perceived them. The heel was doing his job, flipping everyone off at any given occasion only to get everyone’s boos up. And the other, being the good guy he was, was there to make him regret it every time.

How she loved wrestling. It was such a theatrical, highly athletic pantomime.

The match ended with the good guy pinning the heel. The crowd went wild. Erika too, smiled, as she kept taking her shots of the guy celebrating.

Then, as the guys cleared out and the announcer moved back to the ring, starting to explain the next match on the mic, Erika moved too towards the wrestlers’ entrance, readying her camera to capture Aussie Open’s entrance.

Of course, she was working for the wrestling company and her work needed to be equally good for all the participants in the events. But she couldn’t help herself from having favourites. The number of pictures she had taken of Kyle and her brother that she had never sold because they were candid shots of two guys and had nothing to do with wrestling was embarrassing. Especially of Kyle’s. She loved taking his pictures. But that was a secret, of course.

Still, she patiently waited there, camera at hand, kneeling to take a good shot of them coming out in their new shiny, matchy gear.

Aussie Open was announced and their music started as they rolled out, basking in the crowd's welcome.

Erika smiled behind the camera, taking her pictures as the two posed and then moved with them to the ring.

Mark and Kyle slipped through the ropes and circled the apron, looking into the room, and pointing at people in the crowd only to get a reaction. They were both talking some shit either to the crowd or to each other, fully committed to their role.

Then, as Kyle confidently strode by the corner she was hanging around, he broke character one moment to look down at her, offering her one of his sweet smiles. “Hey, baby,”

Erika took a picture of him, grabbing that moment for herself. He called her baby now. Not always, but when he did it made her feel warm all over. It was so hard for her not to reach out and touch him.

Mark approached Kyle and landed a heavy hand on his shoulder, bringing him to turn as the announcer presented their competitors. Erika moved around the ring again, towards the entrance, ready to go back to being a hundred per cent professional.

She kneeled by the crowd, exchanging a quick, polite smile with a couple of guys by her side who seemed to be enjoying the show just like everyone else. She leaned ready to take her shots.

And then Erika was stricken. Nothing could have prepared her for the frosty feeling taking over her as the heavy hand of a stranger landed on her ass, giving her an unrequired smack. She felt the stranger’s touch straight into her stomach and it made her twitch as his fingers dared to squeeze on her.

She turned quickly towards him and raised her camera, taking a shot of his face. She acted out of instinct, not thinking about the consequences. It was the only thing she could consciously think of doing. No words were coming out. Not even anger. Just pure, disgusted surprise.

“Hey,” he angrily confronted her, trying to grab her camera, “Cancel that, you bitch. I haven’t permitted you to take a picture of my face.”

She wanted to say she hadn’t permitted him to squeeze her ass either. It was on the tip of her tongue. And yet. Nothing came out.

Erika stepped away, hiding her camera behind her back, feeling something close to fear choke her as the guy stood up, ready to chase her. She truly thought he was going to hurt her.

“Hey, hey, you prick,” Kyle shouted, jumping off the ring, and intervening. By then, everyone’s attention was on what was happening there.

Mark followed Kyle as they both stepped in between Erika and the guy in the crowd, who was proud and drunk enough to face them, even when he was no match for either of the Aussies.

“I’ll break that hand of yours, you cunt,” Mark barked.

Kyle stepped in between them, shielding Erika with his body. “You ok?” He touched her face, looking down at her.

Erika didn’t refuse him. Her hands travelled to his wrists, as she moulded under his touch appreciating his closeness. “Yes,” she huffed, her eyes escaping Kyle’s as she looked back at her brother, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. “I’m ok,” She then tapped on Mark’s shoulder, “Don’t bother,” she suggested, even though the guys seemed to be ecstatic to receive attention. “Mark? Please, leave it alone.”

“Maybe you should get her to wear something more covering. You can’t blame me.” The guy was drunk. He was mumbling his nonsense only looking for a fight and Erika hated that she didn’t want her brother to give it to him. “When they look like sluts, I say they look for it-”

There was no stopping Mark after that.

Before she could even think about trying and stop him from jumping to the guy’s throat, Kyle scooped her away, trapping her in between his arms, and protecting her. This time, she hid in between his arms, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see what she had caused.

The crowd shouted so loudly it made her head hurt.

The announcer, from the ring called for security that came through to break the fight and to kick out the people who disturbed the show.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Kyle shook his head, kissing her forehead tenderly. “Don’t you dare to apologise,” he chanted to her ear, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Later on, that same evening the mood was off.

After the incident, going back to the regular flow of the show had been difficult. While Kyle and Mark were supposed the be heels and treated as such, the crowd started loving them after they displayed chivalry. Everyone kept asking her if she was ok from that point on. And she hated it. Erika just hid behind her camera the rest of the evening, pretending detached politeness, but didn’t ever move from ringside.

Now they were gathered for a drink and some late food at a local pub just around the corner from the venue where the show took place. Erika sat in her booth enjoying a plate of steaming hot chips as she watched Kyle play pool with two of the boys from the show.

When he smiled, she smiled too, wondering what had been said to make him laugh.

Mark heavily dropped himself next to her, placing his beer and a massive portion of nachos, blocking her view.

“Hey,” she welcomed him with a smile.

Mark was deadly serious. “I know something is happening between you and Kyle.”

“OK?” Erika frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be vague with me, I’ve suspected it for a while. I see the way you two look at each other. And tonight, with the way he protected you-”

“Mark,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “You did the same thing.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me the way you two were hugging was nothing.”

She didn’t look at him. “It was just a hug.”

“I love you. I will always love you. You know that. And believe me, it hurts me to say this. I know I’m being an ass right now, but I want you to stay away from Kyle.”

Every word that came out of Mark’s mouth slashed through her like a knife. It was a painful reminder of everything she had been, everything she had done. Everything her brother had to fix for her. Not leaving any space for the person she was desperately trying to become.

“Why?” She challenged him, gulping down her pain, and looking straight into his eyes.

“You know why. I can’t stand the idea of watching you hurt him. Because you will. Maybe not willingly. But he doesn’t deserve it all the same.”

Erika's chest ached. She looked away, trying to hide away her pain. She wanted to shout and cry and kick, but couldn’t. Somehow, she trusted her brother more than how she trusted herself. It was easier to accept that he must have been right about her. It must be like he said. She wasn’t good for Kyle and would have never been good.

“I mean it, Erika. I’d break the world for you. But I’d do the same for Kyle.”

“You are breaking me right now,” she shook her head and then looked back at him, anger flooding through her gaze, lighting her up. “You think I haven’t tried to stay away? See? I knew you’d end up telling me this and I did. Stayed as far as I could. Pretty difficult to do when we live together, travel together and work together,” Erika shrugged. “But it is as you said. I obviously can’t offer anything better to someone than failure.”

“That’s not what I meant,”

“Don’t you dare try and justify your cruelty. You said it, loud and clear. I am not good enough for Kyle. Thank you, brother, for reminding me.”

She grabbed her stuff and got up, storming out.

Something stirred inside of her. It was an old, familiar feeling of how she was used to dealing with strong emotions from before. Part of her was trying so hard to be better. But she didn’t know how when even her brother, her only anchor in that world, didn’t believe in her.

Anger and pain were easy to suppress or ignore when she was self-destructing, taking everyone else down with her in the process. 

#kyle fletcher #kyle fletcher smut #kyle fletcher x reader #kyle fletcher x ofc #aew fanfiction #kyle fletcher fanfic

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Prologue

Aemond Targaryen x Aelora Velaryon 

Prologue

A/N - Please read the prologue, it is necessary in understanding elements of the rest of the story.

If you had read my Aemond imagine called Doomsday, you will recognize similarities in this fic, especially in the prologue. I promise, however, that besides this chapter, it will be much more expanded on and different from Doomsday. Major plot points will be changed, previously written scenes will be changed. So if you read something you recognize, don’t skip it, and also try not to connect it to Doomsday. However, I will be reusing some elements that I think work really well.

Also, for anyone wondering, I most likely will make a part two to Doomsday, which will be up at some point on Tumblr and Ao3, all the same username. I will also continue to answer requests. My @ is in_my_feels_probably on Wattpad and Ao3, and in-my-feels probably on Tumblr.

Please, do not read my fic if you think any of the following will trigger you. I will include as many tags and trigger warnings as I can in the beginning, but this is your pre warning that this fic will deal with the following: mentions and allusions to sex, potential smut, swearing, depression and suicide, character death, miscarriage, trauma, toxic relationships, Targaryen incest, violence, and gore.

At the beginning of hard chapters, I’ll include any warnings I can at the top in an author’s note. Please, let me know if I missed any triggers. If you’d rather read something shorter and a little more lighthearted, but with familiar plotlines, read Doomsday.

If I have nothing too important to say, the author's notes will be at the bottom of the chapters.

I am asking that you don’t translate or upload my fic anywhere else without my permission, but if you mention it anywhere, let me know on Wattpad or Tumblr, I’d love to see.

With that said, that’s all I have left important to explain beforehand. I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you have any questions, comments, or feedback, feel free to comment or message me and let me know. I really hope you enjoy it!

Now presenting…the Prologue for We’re Burned For Better

—

Anya Taylor Joy as AELORA VELARYON, biological daughter of RHAENYRA TARGARYEN and SER HARWIN STRONG.

Adoptive daughter of SER LAENOR VELARYON, accepted as his own by DAEMON TARGARYEN.

Twin sister to JACAERYS VELARYON, kin to the BLACKS.

Lover to AEMOND TARGARYEN.

—

- The Great War -

My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War

You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talking

Screaming from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it

All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

Your finger on my hair pin triggers

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you

We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours

—

Aelora Velaryon’s relationship with her family was most certainly an interesting one.

Being the sole daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, she had many eyes on her. Especially because she was the only one of Rhaenyra’s eldest children that resembled her Mother’s looks. Rhaenyra did eventually have children with Daemon that got the Targaryen features, but for a time, Aelora was the only one.

Which was particularly odd, considering she was twins with Jacaerys, who looked nothing like her. Aelora did, however, have her Father’s eyes. She liked to think it was the one special thing that connected her to her true Father, Ser Harwin Strong, now that he was gone.

Many speculated that Aelora was a child from another, that Rhaneyra took in as her own. Others suspected that she was the only true child she had with Laenor Velaryon. There were even whispers of her being a reincarnation of past rulers, including Queen Rhaenys.

Aelora’s parents never addressed the silly claims, only ever raising her as a Targaryen and a Velaryon. She was told to hold her head up high, just as her Mother did.

Growing up in King’s Landing, there wasn’t much Aelora particularly enjoyed doing. The city wasn’t to her taste. Her brothers and her uncles regularly trained, which she occasionally looked in on to fill the time, but she hardly ever joined herself.

Being Rhaenyra’s daughter, and the supposed daughter of Laenor, there was a certain expectation that she train alongside her brothers as well.

However, her family had lots to say about it, especially Aegon. To avoid the harassment, Ser Harwin offered to train her one on one. Ser Criston, biased towards her uncles, made training a very unpleasant experience, and Ser Harwin took it upon himself to make sure she received the same training as her brothers did. Aelora suspected her Mother had something to do with it, but Ser Harwin never made it seem like he was acting on her request. He was always kind to Aelora, which was one of the few perks to living in the capital.

Occasionally, Aemond would join in on training with Aelora. Her relationship growing up with Aemond was interesting, to say the least. One of the other few perks of living in the city. As children, they bonded over the fact that neither of them had dragons, despite both being given dragon eggs when they were born. They never hatched, which Aegon enjoyed taunting them both to no end about.

Aelora’s brothers weren’t as cruel, but they joked with her as well, as young boys tend to do. Jacaerys, her twin brother, often tried to console her about it. Sometimes, he’d let her fly with him on his dragon, Vermax, who seemed to sense how close she was with his rider.

As nice as Jace would try to be, he also lived to tease her, as any brother would.

“You’ll have a dragon one day,” he told her. “Besides, it’s only fair, Aelora. You got the silver hair. You're the spitting image of Mother.”

She scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “I’ll trade you for a dragon.”

“Then who would keep Aemond company while the rest of us are out flying?”

Jaecerys was extremely protective of his sister. Despite her technically being the older one of the two, born minutes before him, he always treated her like a little sister. Sometimes, she had to remind him that that wasn’t the case.

Jace could see the way Aemond looked at Aelora, and he was irritated, to put it mildly. He was as hard headed and stubborn as a dragon, and decided that humiliating Aemond in front of Aelora would persuade her to change her mind.

Aelora remembered the day her brothers and uncle decided it would be funny to tell Aemond they had found him a dragon, and instead brought a pig with parchment wings glued to its back out of the dragon pit. His Mother told him to forget his incessant obsession over having a dragon, but he just couldn’t let it go.

Aelora found him that evening, stalking around in the courtyard, pouting. When he heard her approach, he sniffled and quickly wiped under his eyes, but he knew she had caught him crying. She told him there was no shame in it, and that he did not have to hide that part of himself to her.

She had sat down, patting the spot on the ground next to her. He relented, taking his place beside her. They sat in comfortable silence, something they often did together. Aemond was never a man of many words, but he was especially quiet in times like this.

“We will have dragons one day, Aemond. I know it. It does no good to dwell on it now. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your tears. Tell me you know that.”

He turned to her, offering a small smile. “I know.”

He didn’t really believe it himself, but somehow, he knew she was right. Aelora was  never able to lie to him, and so he knew she was only ever speaking the truth. And if she believed, he believed it too. Her faith was good enough for him.

Aemond was always good at comforting Aelora, too.

When she heard news of Ser Harwins death, she was nearly inconsolable. While she understood the rumors involving her family, and she knew in her heart that there was great potential for the man to be her Father, she publicly grieved anyway.

Aemond threatened to take the tongue of any man who teased her about it.

—

As Aelora got older, she saw less and less of Aemond. The night Lucerys took Aemond’s eye, defending his brother and Daemon’s daughters, she didn’t exactly take his side. If there was one thing she was, it was loyal to her family. As much as she loved Aemond, she wouldn’t take his side if she knew in her heart that he was wrong. She had told him how she thought him claiming Vhagar was unfair, and that it wasn’t his right to do so. Still, that made it no easier to see him hurt, and permanently scarred. She knew it would leave him vulnerable to torment.

That night, Alicent attacked Aelora’s own Mother.

An eye for an eye.

Aelora wasn’t having it. Just as fierce and brave as her mother, she stood in front of Luke and Jace, trying her best to protect them. Rhaenyra took a knife for it, and it was the final blow that wedged its way into the middle of the family, dividing the two sides.

The Greens and the Blacks.

Alicent wouldn’t allow her sons to be around Aelora’s brothers for longer than absolutely necessary. By association, this included Aelora too. In her later years, she came to understand why Alicent did all that she did. She just wanted her family safe, and she did what she could with the cards she was dealt. But that didn’t mean that Aelora was happy about it, and she spent what little time she had left in the city trying to make amends with Aemond.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t that upset. The night he was hurt, she had snuck to see him. Aelora profusely apologized, swearing that she never meant for any of this to happen. He had stopped her, sounding much wiser than his age.

“I understand, Aelora. They’re your family. I would never ask you to give up your loyalty for me.”

If only he knew just how much she cared about him, and how she often worried that one day, she would be asked to give it up for him. She could never stomach the idea of truly letting him go.

At the time, she didn’t know what to say. He was being suspiciously kind, especially after all Aelora said to his mother in her brother's defense.

“It is a trade that I can bear, Aelora. An eye seems a small price for the largest dragon in the world. You were right in the end.”

“I really am sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I’m grateful you understand,” she muttered, gently taking his hand in hers. She slightly grinned. “And of course I was right, I always am. I’m happy for you. Truly. Maybe a bit jealous, but truly.”

—

The Black’s returned to Dragonstone, wanting to avoid future conflicts.

Within a fortnight, once Aelora had settled back home, Daemon heard rumors of a rogue dragon, hidden away off the coast of Dragonstone. Her description matched that of Meraxes, a dragon thought to be dead. The last to claim her was Queen Rhaenys, sister and wife of Aegon the Conqueror.

Meraxes was said to be even bigger than Vhagar, only second to Balerion, who had died years before. If it was true, and Meraxes really was alive, the Blacks had a chance to claim the biggest dragon in the world.

With all of her brothers having already claimed a dragon, and her still without one, Daemon decided she would be Aelora’s to claim, if she chose her.

Aelora was shocked when he told her, but she went with him willingly to the cave Meraxes supposedly dwelled in. She rode on the back of Caraxes, fighting the pit in her stomach as her feet left the ground. She had been on dragonback before, but to know the next time she’d mount a dragon that may be her own, it had her frazzled.

“I believe it’s time you had a dragon of your own, don’t you?”

“What if she doesn’t choose me? What if she isn’t even real?”

He shook his head, grinning at her. “She’s real. And she’ll be yours. I can feel it.”

When Aelora made it to the cave, Daemon walked with her as far as he could go. He stopped at the entrance, handing her a torch.

“It’s up to you now. Do me a favor, come out of there unharmed. I couldn’t handle your Mother’s wrath if I went and got her only daughter killed.”

“I’ll be alright. You don’t sound too worried, Kepa.”

Father.

He smiled, a genuine smile. “Go on.”

Once in the cave, it took Aelora a few minutes to get her bearings. She grew a little anxious, but swallowed her nerves, continuing on. She was going to do this for her family. She was going to do this for herself. Aelora let out a low hum, signaling anything inside of her presence. She walked for a little while longer, before she heard a low rumble, humming back to her.

Aelora turned the corner, and sure enough, there she was. Glowing gold eyes and silver scales. She was beautiful.

She sniffed the air, opening her mouth, a shrill roar coming from her throat. Heat filled the room as she widened her jaws, and Aelora could see the ball of fire at the back of her throat.

She held her hand out, calling out to her. “Kesan gaomagon ao daor ōdrikagon.”

I will do you no harm.

“Nyke iderēbagon ao, Merakses. Gaomagon ao iderēbagon nyke?”

I choose you, Meraxes. Do you choose me?

Meraxes hummed, inching closer to Aelora. She held her breath as her snout came inches from her face, her teeth bared. She looked up into her eyes as she narrowed hers at her, staying still.

Aelora took a breath, closing her eyes. She held a hand out straight in front of her.

“Iksi mēre isse keskydoso. Lentor.”

We are one in the same. Family.

Aelora opened her eyes as she felt her nudge her snout into her palm, her breath hot on her hand. she smiled, excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Good girl, Meraxes.”

“Ivestragī īlva jikagon ūndegon ñuha kepa, Meraxes. Rȳbagon naejot nyke.”

Let us go see my Father, Meraxes. Listen to me.

She climbed up her back, settling with her legs wrapped at the base of her neck. Aelora leaned forward, gripping the spikes along her spine.

“We’ll have to fit you for a saddle and reigns, my girl. Obey, now. Jikagon.”

Go.

She stood, racing for the entrance of the cave. Aelora grinned wide as she felt the wind through her hair, laughing as she breached the entrance. Meraxes soared into the sky, looping around the tops of the trees.

Aelora saw Daemon on the ground, cheering.

“Get Caraxes, Daemon! I’ll fly the rest of the way on my own,” she shouted down.

Aelora soared off towards Dragonstone, knowing Daemon wasn’t far behind. She couldn’t hide her smile as she flew up through the clouds, holding tight to Meraxes. When she finally reached Dragonstone, she landed atop the hill. She climbed down, walking around to face Meraxes.

“Jikagon, ñuha riña. Sōvegon. Ao gīmigon skori naejot māzigon arlī naejot nyke.”

Go, my girl. Fly. You know when to come back to me.

Aelora ran a hand along her cheek before stepping back, and Meraxes took off into the clouds. She waited for Daemon to return at the edge of the castle, and grinned as she saw him and Caraxes break through the clouds. He quickly dismounted, letting Caraxes go, before rushing over to her.

“My girl,” he said, pulling Aelora into a hug. “I knew she’d choose you.”

She smiled, hugging him back. “She’s incredible. I can’t believe it. Thank you for taking me.”

“No child of mine will be without a dragon. Come, let's show your Mother I brought you back in one piece.”

—

In the following years, Aelora spent most of her time with her family on Dragonstone.

After the disaster that was Alicent slicing Rhaenyra’s arm, Rhaenyra decided it was best they go back to Dragonstone. With Meraxes, Aelora would fly and visit King’s Landing, at least when her Mother gave her permission. But other than that, she didn’t see the city much.

Sometimes, Aemond would write letters to her. It warmed her heart to know he still thought of her. He had matured immensely since she left. Aelora heard tales of him, of the mysterious young Prince, rider of Vhagar, distinguished swordsman. It amused her to think of him in that light, when she could still remember beating him in duels as children and watching him complain to Ser Criston.

After the birth of Viserys, Rhaenyra’s youngest, she sent Aelora to King’s Landing to stay for a while. Rhaenyra understood how much Aelora missed her life there, despite never liking the city. She also understood that the family was walking on fragile grounds, the glass bound to shatter if something wasn’t done to ease the tension. Aelora seemed like the best option to send, and she at least would have some company in the city.

Aemond was there, Aelora’s best friend in the whole seven kingdoms. And Helaena, who Aelora spent most of her time with. She got along with Alicent, who immediately took her in and treated her like a daughter. Even Aegon, in his later years, also took a liking to Aelora, having a genuine respect for her. Reluctantly, she indulged him, hoping it would change him for the better.

While Aelora always had someone in her company in King’s Landing, she dearly missed her home. She had been in King’s Landing for months now, and missed the castle back home, as well as the sea, and her brothers. She missed her flights with Daemon, connecting with her Father in one of the easiest ways she knew how.

But most of all, Aelora missed her Mother, the one person in the world she could not bear to be without.

When Aelora received news of her Mother being with child again, she couldn’t bear to be away from her any longer.

Every few weeks, Aelora would fly to Dragonstone on Meraxes, spending a week at a time at home. Her family cherished this time with her. When the ache in her heart from missing her family would subside, she’d know it was time to return to King’s Landing again.

When Aelora’s grandsire, King Viserys, was said to be very ill, her Mother decided it was finally time to return to King's Landing.

It was good timing, since Rhaenyra would have the opportunity to introduce her youngest children to her Father, as well as inform him of the marriage pact between Aelora’s brothers and Daemon’s daughters. It was also an opportunity to challenge Vaemond for Driftmark, which Aelora’s Mother believed to be rightfully Lucerys’s. Rhaenys had a soft spot for Aelora, and a respect for Rhaenyra, and her family knew she would eventually back them all and vouch for them to the King.

When Aelora heard her family’s arrival was imminent, she began counting the days until she was back in their arms again.

—

A/N - I hope you enjoyed the prologue, let me know what you think!

#house of the dragon x reader #house targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #games of thrones #hotd #aelora velaryon #aelora targaryen #aemond x aelora #aemond targaryen x aelora velaryon #aemond targaryen x oc #we’re burned for better #in my feels probably #prologue #doomsday #anya taylor joy #taylor swift #the great war

[bonny-kookoo]

Take Me Somewhere Nice (Intro)

In which his task isn't unusual, nothing special, and not a big deal at all. Get rid of the demon that's attached to a child, simple as that. Or is it?

Tags/Warnings: Angel!Jungkook, Demon!Reader, Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, Mature (that includes triggering content and smut)

Additional Chapter Warnings: None

Series Masterlist (Soon!)

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

His wings hold him securely in the sky as he scans the neighbourhood for the house he needs to find.

It's dark, late at night, but the child he's been tasked to isn't asleep when he finally settles on the large tree nearby, able to see into her window from his spot. The little girl is simply acting,fooling her mother until she deems it safe to open her eyes again.

When she sits up, nothing happens at first.

The child takes out what he thinks is a deck of playing cards, two dolls, and a bunch of little toy cars, neatly placing it on her blanket before she waits. His brows furrow as he observes the scene; her little chubby cheeks beginning to puff in happiness as she smiles excitedly when the shadows in the corner of her room morph into what he believes to be the demon attached to her.

Jungkook immediately becomes rather uneasy, getting into a different position to be able to quickly interfere as soon as he needs to. Demons can be vicious creatures, never sparing even the youngest of souls. And while he knows they have their purpose, it still doesn't sit straight with him how any being could torture an innocent soul like that just for entertainment and personal gain.

But what he spots isn't what he expected.

He's a little more than surprised to see the happiness in the little kid's face at the sight of the young demon, who sits down on her bed like second nature, before the two of you begin to play with the toys the kid has chosen for tonight.

This is certainly something new- and something he's not been told when his superior had given him the task.

"I need you to resolve a situation on earth for me." his superior tells him, arms crossed. "a young child is being haunted by a youngling of the shadows. I believe you've dealt with situations like these before?" he chuckles, as Jungkook simply nods.

"I've fought my fair share of demons." he says. "if it's a youngling like you said, it won't take long." he promises, while his superior nods.

"I hope so." he tells Jungkook, before patting his wings in encouragement. "I'll give you the details later. Get a picture of the situation, then tell me how much time you need."

"sure thing." Jungkook smiles. "I doubt it'll be that hard."

By now, the child is laying close to you, who's simply still sitting on the mattress while the girl falls asleep with her head on your thigh. He's so immersed into the sight of it that for a moment, he doesn't notice anything else- until he spots your glowing red eyes, fixated on him far away in the trees.

He's been spotted.

Yet again he prepares for a reaction- but there is none. You simply stay throughout the night, until the first birds start to wake up- Only then do you quietly disappear in the form of a black cat, jumping out the window just to vanish into the shadows of the garden nearby.

Something doesn't seem right here, he thinks to himself as he still keeps his eyes looking towards the direction you left in.

And right then and there, he realizes that this task might be more than he thought it would be.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine

[xobrattymoonxo]

CHAPTER THREE: KEIGO REFUSES

Summary: When Y/n had everything taken from her at such a young age, she wanted to strike revenge. Foster home after foster home Y/n set fires all over the place... and even some people. It wasn't until the number two hero, Endeavor, took her under his wing for a positive image. Y/n meet a boy there, Touya. Touya was the only one who understood her. One day, Touya is rushed to the hospital.....Y/n never saw him again. Endeavor begins to blame Y/n, as all his force is now aimed at her. Baby shouto came shortly after the incident. On Shouto's 7th birthday, y/n was kicked out and forced to live off of nothing. Y/n rummaged the streets of the city until she met a pro hero, snipe. He helped Y/n to better herself and become a great hero. Y/n only has one goal, though....and that's to kill Endeavor. Little did she know her childhood best friend, Touya, has been keeping an eye on her...... And he has other plans for her, hero.

Trigger Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, Yandere, stalking, obsessions creepy behavior, major character death, brutal scenes of violence, arson, setting people on fire, blood, gore

Taglist: Open, dm, send an ask,  or comment to be added!

AN: Your friends seem a lil fake in this chapter sorry 😭

Third person Pov

“No, Endeavor was.”

Those words burned into Keigo’s mind for a moment.

“Endeavor… he raised you?” He asked in complete shock.

“Unfortunately.” Y/n sighed.

“What!?!? He’s the number one hero now! What do you mean unfortunately?” Keigo was taken aback by her words.

“I mean he’s an abusive piece of shit who killed my best friend!” Y/n snapped.

“Woah.” Rumi said.

“That's a pretty harsh allegation Y/n.” Keigo snapped back. “If he really did all those things how could he be a hero?”

“Cause no one believed me when I tried…. And his kids….. They live in fear of him.” Y/n said back.

“What did he do to you, Y/n?” Rumi asked.

“Some really fucked up things but not as bad as what happened to Touya. He didn’t even get to come home that last time, as for me I always went home to Endeavor…. Everytime… he silenced the hospitals, burned the records and if anyone saw my scars, well they blamed it on my own quirk…. The flames of inferno…”

“Y/n…. I am so sorry…” Rumi said.

Keigo stood up and pulled his wing from Y/n and Rumi.

“I need a moment.” He said as he walked out to her balcony. The two watched him fly off as Y/n turned to Rumi again.

“I don’t think he believed me.” She said, “Should we go after him?”

“No, you stay here. I will go after him.” Rumi stood up as she walked out the front door, locking it behind her.

Y/n was left alone once again with nothing but thoughts of Touya and the evil Endeavor.

Hours passed and she still hadn’t heard anything from them. She washed off her face and decided to head out to find them. After about 20 minutes of walking, she saw the two on a patio outside a pub. She was about to approach them when an arm suddenly grabbed her back into an alley way. She looked ready to kick ass when he interrupted her.

“Shhh just listen.” The voice said in a tone unrecognizable.

Y/n was curious so she turned her attention back to Keigo and Rumi.

“I’m just saying Rumi, who could believe that about Endeavor? He’s the number one hero! No one should be saying such allegations against him!” Keigo said.

“What about Natsuo? Can’t you ask him?” Rumi asked.

“What if he’s lying too?”

“This isn’t like you Keigo. I just think you should hear her story first.” Rumi said.

“No. I can’t listen to more lies about my hero from someone we apparently don’t even know.” Keigo spat. “If it was true the Todoroki siblings would be talking about it by now!”

Rumi felt he made a good argument. “You make a fair point… I still think we should hear her out.”

“I can’t right now, I am too mad.” Keigo said.

Y/n felt a hand on her arm, pulling her back into the reality of the world around her.

“Come with me and I can make things better.” He whispered in her ear.

“Who are you?” She asked.

He didn’t say anything other than give her a menacing laugh. He turned on his heels to walk away as she watched. Before she could understand the situation, her feet were moving on their own, following this mysterious man.

He took his hood down around the back corner, as he turned to wink at her… Dabi… why the hell was he so interested in her?

Y/n walked back to her apartment as it started to rain. The realization of what she saw between Keigo and Rumi hit as tears started free falling from her eyes. Before she realized it, she was at the door of adopted dads home. She rang the doorbell as she waited patiently.

“Good timing as always, the stove broke again Y/n.” He laughed before realizing she was in tears. “Oh shit, what’s wrong?” He asked opening his arms for her.

“I finally came clean to my friends and they didn’t believe me.” She sniffled in his arms.

Snipe sighed as he pulled her inside from out in the rain.

“If your friends won’t believe you, then I think you need new friends, Sweetie.” He said calmly. “Have you spoken to Fuyumi lately? She frantically was looking for you earlier today saying it was urgent.”

“Urgent? She hasn’t messaged me at all…” Y/n pulled out her phone. She sighed seeing it was a message warning her something about Endeavor. Y/n read the full message. She pushed past Snipe as she ran to the washroom and began throwing up.

Snipe chased after her, grabbing her phone reading the message that Endeavour and Inferno are to have to work together in upcoming press conference about villainous quirks used for

Good.

“Villainous? How dare they say that when you are the number 9 hero!” Snipe snapped. “I hate how hero society casts anyone with a quirk they think is too hot to handle.”

Y/n let out a small chuckle as she caught onto his pun about fire.

“It’s okay Dad, I will figure it out. I have to get out of it somehow..” She thought out loud.

“We will figure it out, but for now, let’s go see your mom.”

He walked her into the kitchen where her mother stood trying to light the gas stove. Y/n let out a small chuckle as she lit her finger, lighting the stove.

“You guys really need a new stove.” She laughed.

Outside the house, against a tree across from the big front window, stood Dabi in a hoodie, slowly watching Y/n and the family he used to long for having a grand old time.

One day, she will be his, and he plans to make that day sooner rather than later….

Masterlist

Taglist @weirdovictor @fiestynatureweeb @venusplan @itsmearia01

#tw noncon #tw dark fic #bnha yandere #bnha dark content #yandere bnha #mha yandere #yandere mha #dabi x female reader #yandere dabi #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi

[merrock]

HAPPY FIRST OF JULY!

Truckin' right along. July is a very summery month in Merrock, with parties, a gala, warm weather, what more could you want?! We just want to go over a few important things, as usual, get everyone on the same page, let you know what to expect this month, and give you some behind the scenes details of things we're working on!

HAPPENING IN JULY!

June 30 - July 8 : SUMMER BASH -- our annual carnival and or summer celebration; taking place near Town Hall, the event serves as a major charity boost for emergency responders, as well.

July 14 : ELDER EMO SHOW -- a concert by Unknown Destination happening in an abandoned warehouse downtown, with an after party at The Mirage!

July 22 : CHARITY GALA -- our annual charity gala is happening this month, as well, with a theme of Enchanted Forest! all adults are invited, and we can't wait to see your looks.

JULY'S MINI-EVENTS!

July 4 : FOURTH OF JULY -- a fireworks celebration around Merrock, full of lights and sounds and good times!

EXTRA BIT OF FUN!

We have a new, fun task for you this month! This one was inspired by an existing prompt that I found and tweaked to be more generalized. It does pertain some pretty heavy subjects (and may even have triggering subject material), so you do not need to answer all of them if anything makes you uncomfortable. However, you can check it out HERE. This is for July only, but should not be done in place of activity!

IMPORTANT NOTES!

as usual, be sure that you're familiar with our rules! there are no drastic changes, just little nitpicky things, but it's good to be aware and up to date. a little refresher never hurt anyone.

we have updated the application process in the tiniest, miniscule amount -- now when you submit your background/bio, we are asking that you let us know about pets/developments/schooling so we can update those pages, as well!

although we are remaining lenient with our two week activity requirement before unfollows, and doing checks twice a month (still once in the beginning/end, once midway), we are going to be tightening up on warnings. those inactive for one week, not replying to starters, only replying to writers/characters they are close with, or only doing the bare minimum to avoid check will be given warnings. receiving a lot of warnings will result in your removal from the group. please be fair with activity. we're working on taking it a bit more seriously, and hope you do, too, while still making this a fun environment!

when you need something from admins that that requires us to be online (page update, hiatus request, etc.), please utilize the ask box (it's much easier for me to keep track of what needs done)! otherwise, our messages are open to help you or chat.

BEHIND THE SCENES!

August has a few fun events in the pipeline! We'll be seeing our annual yard sale and car cruise-in, as well as a volleyball tournament. but the big one (best for interactions, imo) is our beach party!

and of course there will be some mini events, too, like lighthouse day, and school starting back up.

per usual, we'll be doing acceptances on Mondays and Thursdays in July, hours may vary, but mods are typically around from 5-10PM; as we've been hovering around cap, if we reach cap, we have made the decision we will accept new writers/characters based on diversity and WC pick-ups.

oh, aaand! we've added a bunch of new locations for you to check out. make sure you've read this post to catch up!

HAPPY JULY, MERROCKITES!

#merrockadmin

[lightstar789]

Icon and Inferno by Marie Lu (ARC Book Review)

Thank you to NetGalley for sending me this ARC in exchange for an honest review (my first one at that, too!).

Hello, bookblr, it's me, lightstar789. I received an ARC of Icon and Inferno by Marie Lu from NetGalley and I have come here to post about my thoughts about the book. Spoilers for the Stars and Smoke Duology, and the Warcross duology below, and without further ado, let's do this!

OVERALL RATING: 2/5

Yeah, I know, bummer. I thought this sequel would out-do its predecessor, given how amped up its stakes were advertised as. But when I went to read the book, I was disappointed, to say the least, the reasons for which I will be listing down below. Regardless of the faults in this book however, it was still an enjoyable read, which is to be expected from Marie Lu, and I do appreciate the effort, creativity, and passion in the book!

Now, moving onto...

THE GOOD

THE TONE:

With the shift to the series becoming a full spy thriller, the tone was definitely handled a lot more better. While the book has kind of lost the campiness found in the first, I think it was for the better, considering how the book seemed to get progressively darker and more dramatic. Elements of the campiness, however, are still there, and I think that they were handled a lot better in moderation. It's fascinating to see how Lu weaved elements of Winter's pop-stardom into the plot, and how he used his fame to advance the mission, while also trying to keep a low profile within his team.

THE WORLD-BUILDING:

Yes, you read that spoiler warning correctly, because EMIKA AND HIDEO ARE BACK!!!! Albeit, in a small role with very little dialogue, which, to be fair, was to be expected considering how much the ending of Wildcard was spoiled. This book takes place presumably a couple years after the events of Wildcard, and the Warcross championships still happen, without the whole-city integration of the Neurolink as previously seen in Japan. Panacea also got a lot more exploration, with international branches such as the Blue Cross Charity, the level of coordinance with local and foreign authorities, and new agents and allegiances being added to the mix. I also like how Singapore's diversity and culture was explored, and appreciated the Little India sequence (though they did spell 'dosa' as 'dosai,' which triggered my South Indian Senses™).

THE ACTION:

If there's one thing that I look forward to in all of Lu's books, it's the action sequences, and just like its predecessor, it never fails to miss. While there's weren't as many with Winter as in the case of the first book, this meant that there were more with Sydney (and Tems, but we'll get to that), which I could never complain about. From car chases, to classic beatdowns, and chaotic evacuations, there isn't any more that I could ask for. One thing I did notice, however, is that Sydney's lung problems weren't as prominent as they were before. It definitely wasn't forgotten, as Lu does take care to mention her lungs seizing every now and then, but this makes me wonder whether Sydney received treatment from Panacea given how her condition was revealed by the end of SAS. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure it never gets addressed in either book.

I wish I had more to say in this category, but now it’s time to move on to…

THE BAD

THE ROMANCE:

Oh god, where do I begin? The way Lu handled Wydney in the last book should’ve been the first warning sign that this series wouldn’t be as good as her others. I was expecting more reflection, less apprehension in their relationship and more trust, but instead we got hit with miscommunication, petty jealousy, and an uncalled for sex scene while THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING SURVEILLANCE! I think this is a good time to mention it, but this book is not as Ace friendly as her other series are, and to be fair, I think that was a given considering this is supposed to be campier than her other fare. But as I mentioned, the tonal shift from the first book made it hard to digest the romance and sex this time around (and how much more of it there was this time). There’s also the addition of Tems and Gavi (Sydney and Winter’s respective exes) that were introduced in this book, that I honestly couldn’t care for, and were only mattered character-wise for the romantic tension. I was never given a reason to root for their exes, and because of this overall detachment, the romance suffered greatly in quality.

THE CHARACTERS:

Now I’m REALLY upset, considering that this is the category I normally consider Lu’s strongest, and what I also considered the strongest in the Stars and Smoke review. While some characters were well-fleshed out, many, unfortunately, seemed to fade into the background, or were unnecessary for the narrative.

WINTER: Winter stayed mostly the same from the ending of the last book, which was to be expected, since this book was more focused on Sydney, so no complaints here.

SYDNEY: Though I was a bit iffy about her in the last book, I absolutely adored her in this book! I love how her motivations were emphasized this time, and I love how her longing for love was very similar to Winter's, even if she didn't always show it. I also like how Niall and Sydney's father-daughter relationship was touched upon more, and how his death impacted her behavior for the rest of the novel.

LEO: Leo’s gone this time, because of the events of the previous book (good for him, he needs that break!) and I was a bit bummed out, because I was really looking forward to how he’d cope from Penelope and Connor’s machinations, and how he’d find out Winter’s allegiance with Panacea, but sadly, he was put on a bus.

DAMEON: His character unfortunately remained static, and we didn’t really get much focus on him, which is a shame considering that I was most excited for him to find out, and try to help Winter and Sydney in his own way, but instead, we are treated to an infodump about how he found out Sydney was a spy, and then he proceeded to have no bearing on the plot after that. There is just SO much missed potential with Winter's crew and I wish that we spent more time with them, instead of adding more characters and struggling to fit them all.

GAVI: When she got set up as Winter's scheming ex, I hoped that her character would be expanded upon a bit so she wasn't entirely one-dimensional, and while she did have a "redemption arc," that was it. While she did try to serve as a foil to Winter's craving for love and adoration, it didn't really work, because she was never explored apart from her reputation and her personality.

TEMS: Okay, look, I'm just gonna be honest here: I can't fuck with this guy. At all. You're telling me that Sydney was supposed to be this hung-up about a two-night stand? Not only that, I saw everything about Tems coming from a mile away, from him being a traitor, to his motivations for betraying Panacea, from him trying to save Sydney last-second. And I never normally see these twists coming! I just...I can't, every time I see him I think about Tim Hortons (his full name is Tems Bourton) and I can't stop laughing. I feel as though this twist was very last minute (or I've just become very genre aware, who's to say) and seems unplanned, even though I know Lu had probably tried to put her best into this character and the plot, but I feel like it'd be better off without him (even though the book would literally lose the majority of the climax without him).

Niall and Sauda were the only saving grace of the characters not being a total drag. I appreciated how Niall and Sauda's relationship was used as a parallel to Sydney and Winter's, as a sort of "warning" or "what-if," that forced the two to rethink the plausibility of their relationship. I also appreciated how Niall's family and motivations were explored, and how his death was never brushed off, unlike the other elements in this plot.

I wish there were more redeeming qualities to this book, considering that it was a very enjoyable and suspenseful read, but after letting it simmer for a while, I realized that I couldn't really vibe with a lot of the aspects in this book. That being said, just because I didn't like something doesn't mean that you will too. Perhaps this book is up your alley, and if that's the case, then go ahead and read it! This book was not for me, but I'd still definitely encourage others to check it out! Feel free to leave your thoughts about this book in the reblogs or comments below, and I'll see you next time for another review!

Take care, and Happy New Year!!

#bookblr #marie lu #stars and smoke #icon and inferno

[succubusphan]

A Rose of Winter - Chapter 15

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Rating: E (There are only a few smut scenes but it's an M for battles, war, and other adult topics)

Tags/warnings: I removed most triggers (no R or SA, no minors involved in sex, no gore). It does include: Deaths either written without details or in a poetic way if it's an important character (Dan and Phil, Ghost and Balerion will live but everyone else is fair game). Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, missing each other. The prophecies and stories foreshadowed are fulfilled, a satisfying ending to the entire story without plot holes. Extreme canon divergence. Dan and Phil are not replacing characters, they were written in. GAME OF THRONES AU

Author's Note: This is my OSPBB 2022, Couldn't have done it without my betas @effingmeteors and @filisaceaf.

Word Count: Each chapter will be around 15k and have at least one Dan or Phil pov. The total wc is about 210k.

Read on Ao3

PHIL

Travelling north, Westeros.

Loras dismounted and stalked down to the river, allowing his horse to drink some water and washing his face repeatedly. Even after weeks on the road, Phil noticed how obsessed he was with cleaning himself, probably due to his time captive in the Sept where he had lost that privilege. 

Phil followed him and patted his horse, letting him drink too. Ser Pounce was awoken from his slumber and climbed out of Phil's satchel, taking the time to smell his surroundings and scrunching his face up to the sun.

“You can’t be angry at me forever, Loras.”

Loras looked at him with disdain. “I can. I spent years mourning my husband, you saw how badly I was doing, and you never said a word and now I have to grieve for my sister!”

Flinching at the mention of Margaery’s death. He couldn’t talk about it, not yet, so he focused on Renly. “There are many things you don’t understand,” he said. “I know how much it hurt you and I do understand that you are angry at me, but all I’m asking is that you talk to me. We still have a long way to Winterfell.”

“Well, if there’s so much I need to understand, you should explain yourself,” Loras said, punching Phil’s arm a little too hard.

Phil let out a deep sigh but nodded. “Alright. I’ll try my best,” he said. “Do you remember when I asked if you loved Renly, back at the camp?”

“Yes, it was before Renly…” he trailed off.

“Yes. Well… there was a reason. I feared that something would happen and -” He let out a frustrated groan. “When I was a child… When I was hiding in Essos as a child, there was always someone trying to kill me until a Red Priestess gave me a few things. A ring for myself that I was never to remove and a necklace with a rare pendant in it. She told me that the ring would protect me, and it did, I never got tracked or attacked again, even if I'm not sure how it works. And the necklace was meant for someone else. She told me I would know who to give it to, to win the war so that the real war could begin.”

“What would that mean?”

Ser Pounce must have sensed his need for comfort because he meowed and pawed at Phil until he was purring in his arms. “Dan says the White Walkers are real and they are marching south. But - what I mean is, Renly was truly attacked that night. He was truly in danger and the fact that I gave him that necklace saved him. The shadow creature that entered his tent tried to stab him, Lady Stark yelled his name, making him turn around and the stab landed in the necklace, saving him.”

“But why didn’t Renly tell me? Why didn’t you tell me instead of making me grieve for him?”

“It was my idea. I knew that Stannis wouldn’t stop at one attempt and with the Red Witch at his side, I wasn’t sure if either of you would survive. By taking Renly out of the war, you left for King’s Landing and killed Stannis, then the Freys betrayed the Starks and the war was over; at least the main part of it. If Renly had gone into battle we would all be dead by now. Every single one of us. The Lannisters never played fair or intended to benefit us in any way.”

“But you didn’t know things would work,” Loras said. “You risked everything for a hunch.”

“I didn’t, but -” Phil placed his hand on Loras’ shoulder. “When we escaped through the Kingswood, Ser Davos caught up to us, the old Knight serving Stannis. He brought Shireen with him because they were thinking of burning her as a sacrifice to ensure Stannis would win the war.”

Loras frowned. “His own daughter!”

Phil nodded. “I believe that the reason Renly didn’t come out of hiding all this time was to protect her. You know how much he loves her. It took a long time, and there are still battles to come, but in the end, Renly is alive, you are alive and Shireen is safe. He could still become The King of Westeros - with you at his side.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I just want him… if he even wants me still.”

He wanted to tell Loras that Renly would still love him, even after all these years, but he couldn’t; he didn’t know if that would be true and if he was honest with himself, he tried to avoid thinking that was a possibility for he and Dan as well. Would they still feel the same as they did years ago? Would everything be the same even after everything they had gone through?

ARYA

“You're wondering why I brought you all here after all we just had a feast. Since when does old Walder give us two feasts in a single fortnight? Well, it's no good being Lord of the Riverlands if you can't celebrate with your family; that's what I say. I've gathered every Frey who means a damn thing so I can tell you my plans for this great house now that winter has come. But first, a toast. No more of that Dornish horse piss, this is the finest Arbour gold. Proper wine for proper heroes!” Lord Frey raised his wine glass and said: “Stand together!”. 

The Frey men stood from their seats and raised their glasses saying their house words: “Stand together!” And drank their wine. Out of the corner of his eye, Walder Frey saw his youngest wife raising her glass and grabbed her hand. “Not you. I’m not wasting good wine on a damn woman!”

Then, he continued his speech. “Maybe I'm not the most pleasant man, I'll admit it, but I'm proud of you. You're my family, the men who helped me slaughter the Starks at the Red Wedding,” he paused and let them celebrate the compliment. “Yes! Brave men, all of you. Butchered a woman pregnant with her babe, cut the throat of a mother of five, slaughtered your guests after inviting them into your home. But, you didn't slaughter every one of the Starks. No, no. That was your mistake. You should have ripped them all out, root and stem.” 

The old man watched as every single one of his sons and relatives clutched at their throats, unable to breathe. “Leave one wolf alive and the sheep are never safe.” The last men of house Frey died in a matter of seconds, in pure agony as she watched. Arya removed the face of Walder Frey and turned to the young Lady at her side. “When people ask you what happened here, tell them that the North remembers. Tell them winter came for House Frey.”

She let out a happy sigh and walked out of the castle with a sense of peace and fulfilment she hadn’t experienced… ever. She thought back to when she first arrived at the twins and surprised old Walder; what a magical day.

Wearing the face of one of the kitchen maids, she set a big meat pie on Lord Frey’s table. 

“You’re not one of mine, are you?” He asked.

“No,  My Lord.” 

“Didn't think so. Too pretty.” Walder Frey said. “Where are my damn moron sons? Black Walder and Lothar promised to be here by midday.”

“They’re here, My Lord!” Arya said.

“Well, what are they doing, trimming their cunt hairs?” He laughed. “They need to come here now.”

“They're already here, My Lord.” She said and smiled when the old man looked around in confusion. She pointed to the pie. “Here, My Lord. They weren't easy to carve; especially

Black Walder.” 

Walder Frey looked horrified and considerably paler than before knowing he had eaten his own sons.

Arya removed the young girl’s face and leaned down to look at him. “My name is Arya Stark. I want you to know that the last thing you're ever going to see is a Stark leaning down at you as you die.” Before he could utter a word, Arya sliced his throat and the patriarch was no more.

---

Arya rode south of The Twins, her mind focused solely on her next target, but she was surprised when a group of Lannister men stopped her. 

“Good day, My Lady,” said one of the blonde soldiers. 

“Good day, Ser,” she said with a fake smile.

“Where are you going? The sun is going down and this area has become dangerous as of late.”

“Oh, no!” Arya replied. “Would you know of any inns close by?”

“Not that you can get to today, but you could join us for supper. We have rabbits.”

Arya dismounted and tied her new horse to a nearby tree. “Thank you, you are very kind!” She walked over to the firepit that the group was surrounding, looking at the faces of the young men about to enjoy their meat with a smile. She considered killing them, but… they seemed like good men. 

A red-haired one with a kind face gave her the first rabbit out of the fire. “Here; guests get firsts.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! My mother taught me that guests should be tended to.”

Another man passed her a wine tote. “It’s wildberry wine; I made it myself.”

Arya took a swig from it and coughed at the strong taste. “It’s good!” She said, making the men laugh. 

“Where are you headed to?”

“To King’s Landing.”

“That’s a fine place if you like the smell of shit and piss!” He said, making the others laugh.

“What will you do in King’s Landing?”

“I’m going to kill Cersei,” Arya said with a shrug and bit into her rabbit.

The group burst into laughter once again, Arya joining them. It was a silly concept for them, a joke; but not to her.

One of them that had previously stayed quiet got a sad look on his face. “I heard my wife had our first child.”

“What was it?” Arya asked.

“I don’t know. Lowborn soldiers don’t get news from home… but I hope it’s a girl. Girls take care of their papa when they get old, boys go on to fight someone else’s war.”

The red-haired one nodded. “To be completely honest, when I was home, I couldn’t wait to get away, but now - now I would give anything to go back. Eat with my mum, help my dad with the farm. I would wed Jenny without hesitating for so long.”

“What makes you think she’s still unwedded?” Laughed the blonde soldier.

“I don’t know. I always thought we’d be together. I wish I would have asked.”

Arya watched the men; men she would have killed if they’d met years ago, but now she had time to see other cities, other countries. She knew that being on the wrong side didn’t make a person evil and most men didn’t follow out of choice, but fear for themselves or their families. If they would have shown any signs of being wicked, she’d have killed them and taken their faces, but they had welcomed her into their group for the night, fed her and had the intention of protecting her. Just for that night, they were on the same side; their own side.

BRAN

Bran let out a sigh of relief when he and Meera finally made it to Castle Black. After what felt like an eternity the gate rose but not to let them through, instead a few men of The Watch walked out to greet them.

“Who are you?” Asked one of them. “Are you wildlings?”

Bran recognised the cloak the man had on as the one Jon had been wearing when he met the Night King in Battle in which the man was also present. 

“No. I am Meera Reed, daughter of Howland Reed. This is Brandon Stark, son of Ned Stark.”

The man shook his head. “How would I know if that’s true?”

Bran tried to sit up. “Please; the White Walkers are coming for us - for all of us. You’ve seen them. You’ve seen him.”

The already pale man paled even further, his eyes widening as he nodded. “Welcome to Castle Black.”

“Thank you,” Bran smiled and let his head fall back to the logs Meera had tied together haphazardly into a sled to be able to drag him. He would need to ask his brother’s friend for another means of transport.

DAENERYS

“Danny! Danny!” The boy called her, looking all around but she stayed hidden. 

“Daaaaanny!” he insisted, but Daenerys covered her mouth with her little hands and giggled, closing her eyes too to avoid being found.

The boy finally entered through the red door and ran into Viserys. “Your Grace! I apologise,” he bowed awkwardly.

Viserys pushed him, making him fall to the ground. 

He hissed and clutched at his wrist, a small drop of blood running down his arm where he’d cut himself on the mosaics.

Daenerys finally pushed the curtains aside and rushed to him. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t want you to get hurt!”

Viserys huffed and left the house stepping on her friend’s fingers on his way out.

“It’s alright, Danny. It’s not your fault,” the boy said. “Your brother is the problem. We should run away and leave him!”

“But he’s my brother!”

“He is mean to you too! We should leave and never return!”

“Alright, but first we need to plan.”

“Where would we go?”

“To Dragonstone, my home,” said Daenerys.

She woke up covered in sweat, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship and the seagulls sounding a bit too loud. There was a knock on the door.

“Your Grace. We have arrived. The boat will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you, Lord Tyrion. I’ll be a moment,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and trying to dress herself as fast as possible. She was home. Daenerys had to wonder if her friend had ever made it to the island.

When they finally made it to shore, there was a familiar yet ominous feeling looming above the Castle. Dragonstone was nothing but grey and sand; a big fortress built out of volcanic rock, sitting atop a mountain once full of dragon eggs. She smiled sadly and walked towards the gates with resolution.

It was a long way up, with twisting and winding paths carved into the side of the mountain, making it easier to climb up.

Drogon flew past them and landed at the top, looking down at them with interest. The Unsullied pushed the castle gates open and were finally able to walk into her home. There was nothing left behind in the Throne Room; only the stone throne. Daenerys walked further in and found the council meeting room. A huge wooden table shaped like a map of Westeros placed in the centre; wolves, stags, lions and the other Great Houses represented in wooden figurines. The last time the room had been used, Stannis had sailed to King’s Landing. 

Daenerys knocked the stags off to the floor. Stannis was gone and Dragonstone was back in Targaryen hands.

Tyrion looked out the windows to the rain that had started to fall as soon as they had entered. It was turning into a raging storm. He flinched at the crack of thunder falling in the sea. “On a night like this, you came into this world.”

Lord Varys stepped out of the shadows and bowed before Daenerys. They hadn’t gotten the opportunity to speak yet. “I remember that storm, all the dogs in King's Landing howled through the night.”

Daenerys sighed deeply and looked around, at the cold stone walls and the dust-covered furniture. “I wish I could remember it. I always thought this would be a homecoming, but it doesn't feel like it.”

“We won't stay on Dragonstone for good,” Tyrion reminded her. 

“Good.” She looked at the planning table. “Not so many lions.” 

Varys adjusted the pieces all over Westeros as he spoke, updating the information for her to visualise it. “Cersei controls fewer than half The Seven Kingdoms. The Lords of Westeros despised her; even before your arrival they plotted against her, now-”

Danny raised an eyebrow at him; she needed to address their history before they got any further. “They cry out for their true Queen? They're doing secret toasts to my health? People used to tell my brother that sort of thing and he was stupid enough to believe them,” she grabbed one of the dragon figurines and looked at it closely. “If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already.”

Tyrion nodded. “Conquering Westeros would be easy for you, but you're not here to be Queen of the ashes. We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the Great Houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won. With the Tyrell Army and the Dornish on our side, we have powerful allies in the south.”

Daenerys turned towards Lord Varys. “I didn’t properly thank you for that.”

“They joined our side, My Queen, because they believed in you.”

“You served my father didn't you, Lord Varys?” 

“I did,” he said, crossing his arms.

“And then you served the man who overthrew him,” she said, unable to hide her anger.

Varys was not faced by her pressing questions. “I had a choice, Your Grace, serve Robert Baratheon or face the headsman's axe.”

“You didn’t serve him for long, you turned against him,” Danny pushed.

“Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure, there have been few rulers in history as cruel as The Mad King. Robert was neither mad nor cruel, he simply had no interest in being King.” 

“So you took it upon yourself to find a better one,” she completed his thought, taking a step towards him.

Tyrion stepped forward nervously. “Your Grace, when I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a Queen in the east who-”

Daenerys was not going to let Tyrion speak for Varys, save him from his past with bold statements about his loyalty when The Spider had expressed none so far. “Before I came to power you favoured my brother. All your spies, your little birds, did they tell you Viserys was cruel, stupid, and weak? Would those qualities have made for a good King in your opinion?”

“Until your marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace, I knew nothing about you, save your existence and that you were said to be beautiful.”

“So you and your friends traded me like a prize horse to the Dothraki…”

Varys didn’t nod, but he didn’t need to. “Which you turned to your advantage.”

“Who gave the order to kill me?” Daenerys asked.

“King Robert,” he replied.

“Who hired the assassins? Who sent word to Essos to murder Daenerys Targaryen?” 

Varys finally faltered, frowning at her. “Your Grace, I did what had to be done to-”

“To keep yourself alive,” she finished.  

Tyrion cleared his throat and tried to intervene once again. “Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant.” 

Daenerys scoffed and turned towards him with an incredulous look. “Proven himself loyal? Quite the opposite; if he dislikes one monarch, he conspires to crown the next one. What kind of servant is that?”

“The kind of the realm needs. Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I'll use them. I wasn't born into a Great House, I came from nothing. I was sold as a slave and carved up as an offering when I was a child. I lived in alleys, gutters, and abandoned houses. You wish to know what my true loyalties lie? Not with any King or Queen but with the people; the people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule. The people whose hearts you aim to win. If you demand blind allegiance, I respect your wishes. Grey Worm can behead me, or your dragons can devour me, but if you let me live, I will serve you well. I will dedicate myself to seeing you on The Iron Throne because I choose you, because I know that people have no better chance than you!”

She considered it for a moment and decided to give the man a chance to prove himself. “Swear this to me, Varys: If you ever think I'm failing the people, you won't conspire behind my back. You will look me in the eye as you have done today, and you'll tell me how I'm failing.

“I swear it, My Queen.”

“And I swear this: if you ever betray me I'll burn you alive,” she warned him.

“I really expect nothing less from the Mother of Dragons,” Varys said with a smile and Daenerys believed him.

Grey Worm walked up to her. “Forgive me, My Queen. A red priestess from Asshai has come to see you.”

A red priestess? They had just arrived at Dragonstone…

--

The beautiful woman in red nodded and addressed her in Valyrian. “Queen Daenerys, I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honour to meet the Breaker of Chains.” 

“The red priestesses helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcomed here,” Daenerys said.

“I won't be here for long,” she said. “My name is Melisandre, Queen Daenerys.”

Varys scoffed behind her. “She once served another who wanted The Iron Throne. It didn't end well for Stannis Baratheon, did it?”

“No, it didn't.” 

“You chose an auspicious day to arrive at Dragonstone; we've just decided to pardon those who once served the wrong King,” Danny said. “The Lord of Light doesn't have many followers in Westeros, does he?” 

“Not yet, but even those who don't worship the Lord can serve his cause.”

“What does your Lord expect from me?” Daenerys asked.

Once again, Melisandre answered in Valyrian. “The Long Night is coming, only The Prince who was Promised can bring the dawn.” 

“The Prince Who Was Promised will bring the dawn? I'm afraid I'm not a Prince,” Danny said.

“Your Grace, forgive me,” said Missandei, “but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun has no gender in High Valyrian so, the proper translation for that prophecy would be the Prince or Princess who was promised will bring the dawn.”

“Doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?” said Tyrion, smirking.

“No, but I like it better. And you believe this prophecy refers to me?”

“Prophecies are dangerous things,” said Melisandre. “I believe you have a role to play as does another, The King in the North, Jon Snow?” 

“Jon Snow? Ned Stark's bastard?” Tyrion asked.

Danny looked at him. “You know him?”  

Tyrion nodded. “I travelled with him to The Wall when he joined the Night’s Watch.”

“And why do you think the Lord of Light singled out this… Jon Snow? Aside from the visions you've seen in the flames, of course,” Varys said. He didn’t seem to like the Red Priestess.

“As Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he allowed the wildlings south of The Wall to protect them from great danger. As King in the North, he has united those wildlings with the northern houses so together they may face their common enemy,” Melisandre explained.

“He sounds like quite a man,” Danny conceded.

“Summon Jon Snow. Let him stand before you and tell you the things that have happened to him, the things he’s seen with his own eyes.”

“Your Grace, I can't speak to prophecies or visions and flames but I like John Snow and I 

trust him and I am an excellent judge of character,” Tyrion said. “If he does rule the North, he would make a valuable ally. The Lannisters executed his father and conspired to murder his brother. John Snow has even more reason to hate Cersei than you do.”

He was right, of course, but that didn’t mean that Daenerys would let a man lead her forces; he was coming merely as an ally. “Very well. Send a raven north. Tell John Snow that his Queen invites him to come to Dragonstone; and bend the knee.”

DAN

Being Lord of Winterfell was not what Dan wanted, but every time he thought about asking Jon or Sansa to take the lead, he remembered Robb’s plea. He was at least relieved to have a secondary role in the matter and he couldn’t think of anybody better than Jon to be their King.

During the next meeting with their bannermen, Renly joined and assured the Northmen that he would respect the North’s independence as he had once agreed with Robb and Dan, as well as promising to let the matter of The Iron Throne be until the army of the dead was defeated. He hoped the North would support him, but for the time being, he knew what was important and he would join the fight as a mere fighter under Jon’s lead and nothing else. This pleased the Northmen greatly, it was a sign of respect they were not accustomed to by the southern Kings.

It was decided that Tormund and the free folk would help man Eastwatch by The Sea to hold the White Walkers for as long as possible. Then, Jon let the last members of Houses Karstarks and Umber swear loyalty to him and his cause despite the transgression of their parents and grandparents; they were mere children after all. Both jumped at the opportunity gratefully and therefore their castles remained under their lead. 

Sansa was not quiet about her disagreement, challenging Jon over and over, urging him to give their ancestral homes to someone loyal to their cause, but Jon declined and made his decision final.

After that, it was agreed that anyone over the age of eight would train for the war, not only to fight for their houses but to fend for themselves when they were under attack; some of the Lords were upset about having to send their grandchildren to war but Lyanna Mormont shut them down easily, letting them know that she was not going to ask for the other Lords’ permission to join the fight and she expected everyone else to do so as well.

Overall, the meetings were tiresome yet productive, but Sansa’s way of presenting her ideas opposing Jon was turning out to be a bit… much. The moment they three walked out of the meeting, Dan knew the subject was not over - far from it.

“Sansa, you can’t keep challenging me like that in front of the others. It makes me look weak.”

“Joffrey didn’t let anyone contradict him; do you want to be like him?”

Dan winced at the comparison but didn’t utter a word; for now, he was a mere spectator.

Jon paused. “Do you really think I'm like Joffrey?” 

Sansa stepped closer to him and grasped his hands with a soft smile before speaking. “There’s no one further from him than you, but I do want to be able to advise you, to be there for you, and not let you repeat Father’s mistakes. Cersei would have put their heads on spikes to warn those who want to rebel against her and burn their castles to the ground.”

“Careful, it almost sounds like you admire her.”

“I learned a thing or two from her. I don’t ever want to see one of us like that; please. The decision with the Umbers and Karstarks has been taken, but there has to be some reward for loyalty and some punishment for betrayal. Why would anyone follow us otherwise?”

“I don’t like punishing people. I condemned 4 men and a boy to hang because they stabbed me - it doesn’t feel right. Father said that the man who passed the sentence should swing the sword for a reason; he knew what it does to you.”

Sansa looked at Dan and he sighed, knowing that there was no way out of this argument. “What do you think? Should we pardon everyone who betrays us or abide by some set of rules applied equally to everyone?”

Jon looked at him expectantly. 

Dan rubbed at his forehead to keep the impending headache at bay. “It depends. I agree and disagree with both of you.”

“You can’t do that!” Sansa huffed. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, I can. I agree with you that we should be more careful than Father; I said this to Robb myself and he ignored me only to die shortly after. He was an amazing leader and fighter, but he fell in love and became too reckless. The only person he executed was the one he needed the most. On the other hand, we shouldn’t be tyrants towards those who have not had fault of their own and were merely a victim of the circumstances, like sons or daughters. I could have killed Theon the first time I saw him. I wanted to, but I understood that he regretted his decision, he wished he’d never left Robb, so I allowed him to redeem himself - even if I kept a watchful eye over him. In the end, he died a Stark, fighting at our side, helping us regain what he once helped take from us.”

Sansa frowned. “Would you have forgiven him if he would’ve killed Bran?”

“No. But he didn’t, he only pretended he did to maintain his position of power; something he always aspired to and it was always denied. I think he didn’t really want to hurt Bran.”

“Perhaps,” said Jon, his eyes looking out beyond the castle walls.

Dan stood at his side and looked down to the Courtyard where Brienne and Podrick were sparring with Renly. He’d never been a fighter but he was willing to learn. Maybe there was hope for all of them, for a future in unity where the different houses found a way to coexist in peace and help each other flourish.

---

On a day just like any other, Dan walked around the Courtyard with Sansa and Balerion in tow, checking provisions, the progress of their blacksmiths on the weapons they would need and for everything to be ready for winter. Sansa gave him very helpful advice; she suggested the other houses send their grain since Winterfell would be hosting for them for the foreseeable future and any remnants would be returned after winter. 

Dan was startled when Balerion took running for the gates, he placed a hand on the grip of his sword instinctively, until he noticed the wolf was simply excited. “Excuse me, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Of course,” his sister said but followed him nonetheless. Dan rolled his eyes, much had changed but Sansa was still as nosy as he was.

The guards had two hooded men on horseback waiting while they argued on who to consult about granting them access. Balerion sat, trying to contain his excitement and not jump onto the horse.

“Excuse me, Sers, what seems to be the matter?” Dan asked.

One of the men’s head snapped and Dan’s knees almost gave under him when he saw the flash of a smile and piercing blue eyes. He ran to the already dismounting man and pushed his hood back, pressing his lips to Phil’s. Dan felt him smile into the kiss and smiled back. He pulled away from his love only to press small kisses all over his face before pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much…” he breathed out, feeling his throat close as tears threatened to fall. “At times I thought we may never see each other again.”

Phil stepped back and looked into his eyes. “Dan… I wouldn’t have dared to die before seeing you again.” 

Balerion whined and jumped around Phil, nearly knocking him over until he received some well-deserved pets. When his brothers came to see what all the excitement was about, Balerion jumped around them too until a beautiful orange cat jumped out of Phil’s bag and started him. Balerion whined, and snapped his snout in the cat’s direction, but one hiss was all it took for him to take running to the Godswood, Ghost and Greywind following him. The cat rubbed against Phil’s leg before walking calmly into Winterfell.

Dan laughed. “Who is that?”

“Tommen’s cat. Couldn’t leave him behind. I’m sure Balerion will warm up to him.”

“He’s missed you, you know?” Dan said. “He-”

“Where is he?” Asked Phil’s companion and Dan recognised his voice immediately.

“Sansa,” Dan said. “Please take Ser Loras to his husband.”

“Of course, just-” She turned to one of the guards. “I believe Renly was showing Shireen the crypts. Please go ahead and let him know that Ser Loras Tyrell is here and I am leading him there.”

“Want to give him a chance to run?” Loras asked dryly. “He wouldn’t be fast enough.”

Sansa laughed. “Of course not. He speaks very highly of you to anyone who will listen, about how much he’s missed you and your memory has kept him alive all these years. I just want him to be prepared to see you - emotionally.”

Loras dismounted and hugged Dan briefly, giving him a warning look to let him know they would be speaking about Renly’s “death” and his involvement in it later. Then, he offered Sansa his arm and leaned close to her. “Did he really? How is he?”

Dan turned back to Phil and pulled him closer by his -quite inadequate- surcoat. “What do you crave the most at the moment?” He asked. “Are you hungry, tired, need a bath?”

Phil snorted. “All three, but if you give me a choice, I believe a long bath is in order.”

He leaned closer to Phil’s ear and whispered: “I can bring food to the baths, but I’m afraid you will only get more tired there.”

“That sounds perfect,” Phil said, looking down to Dan’s lips before pressing a quick kiss there. 

When Dan turned around and saw the remaining guard looking at them with raised eyebrows, he felt his face turn red. It took everything in him not to lower his head in shame at being caught in such an intimate moment, but he was the Lord of Winterfell after all. He was no longer a boy, hiding from his parents to avoid being punished. 

They stopped by the kitchens and grabbed a plate of fruits and cakes before going down to the baths. It was in the lower levels of the castle, beneath the ground and much warmer than outside. 

Phil stopped short and looked around the dimly lit chamber. “It’s beautiful - and warm.”

Dan smiled and started to remove his clothes, causing Phil to remember why they were there in the first place. “There is a legend that explains that: it is said that thousands of years ago, a dragon fell asleep here, in these very grounds, and never woke up. It turned into stone and was eventually covered in grass. This is where Bran the Builder had Winterfell built; a place where there’s always love and warmth. The baths are naturally hot even in winter and the fires never go out.”

Having finished undressing and shivering in the cold, Phil walked into the bath, Dan followed him with a smile. 

“Do the fires really not go out?”

Shaking his head, Dan snorted. “Of course they do; it’s just a legend.” He grabbed a jug and poured some of the hot water over Phil’s chest, reaching for a clean piece of cloth and soap, making sure to carefully scrub his skin.

“Stop it,” Phil laughed.

“What?”

“You are rubbing at my nipples a bit too hard.”

“Oh no,” Dan said with a laugh.

Phil sat on one of the steps and pulled Dan onto his lap; Dan moaned as their cocks rubbed against each other. He let his eyes fall shut and pressed his forehead to Phil’s before he moved his hips, slowly at first but gradually gaining momentum, moans and sighs falling from his lips shamelessly.

“Dan,” Phil whispered, placing his hands on Dan’s hips and stilling him. “May I?” He asked, tentatively running a finger on Dan’s rim.

“Please,” he mumbled before pressing an eager kiss to Phil’s lips, burying his fingers into the other’s hair as he felt his love’s fingers moving inside of him, smiling at the familiarity of the sensation, even after so many years. He would never forget what it felt to have Phil pleasure him in any way; It was like a phantom feeling, chasing after him. Even after years of not seeing each other, if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could still feel his fingers prying him open, his hands caressing him, his lips kissing his neck, Phil’s cock deep inside him. Dan finally opened his eyes and looked into Phil’s. 

“I’m ready,” he said breathlessly.

Phil nodded and helped him lower himself onto him ever so slowly. “You look so beautiful, Dan. So beautiful - all I ever wanted was to return to you,” he mumbled.

“I’m never letting out of my sight again,” Dan said and leaned down to bite on his neck, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he finally sat on Phil’s lap, feeling Phil throb inside of him. “Gods, Phil…” He trailed off.

“Yes,” Phil said even though Dan himself didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Missed you, missed this.” He helped Dan raise and lower himself again, making him moan as he felt fire running through his veins, pressure building inside of him with every movement.

Then, Dan yelped, clutching at his leg. “Noooo,” he whined. 

“It’s alright,” Phil said, helping him stand and rubbing at his leg until it stopped twitching.

“I don’t want to stop,” Dan lamented. 

Phil bit his shoulder and laughed. “We are not stopping,” he said. “Kneel on the step facing away from me.”

Dan was simply happy to continue in any way so he didn’t argue. He set the palms of his hand on the ledge of the bath and kneel on the step, letting Phil take him in whichever way he wanted. He felt Phil push into him, agonisingly slowly, so much so that he could have sobbed. It was only when Phil shushed him that he realised he was, in fact, sobbing. “Please, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Yesss,” Phil hissed as his hips pressed firmly against Dan. Then, he pulled out just a fraction before thrusting into him hard. 

“Ah!” Dan moaned, letting his head fall forward and gripping at the ledge for dear life.

“Is that good?”

“Yes! More!” Dan moaned as he pressed back for a moment before realising Phil was holding him tightly in place to go even faster, harder. 

Phil leaned down. “Touch yourself,” he nearly growled and Dan let his hand fly over his cock pushing him over the edge soon after. It was fast - faster than he would have liked, but he knew they would get to do this for the rest of their lives. Phil joined him almost immediately, his breath coming out in pants against Dan’s neck, which he kissed. The bastard licked at the skin there and snickered when Dan twitched. “Still sensitive?”

“I’ll show you what else is sensitive!” Dan said.

“Let’s wash first, then we can eat that food and ruin the furs in your bed while I play with your sensitive neck.”

“Stay with me,” Dan mumbled, looking over his shoulder. “In my bedchamber - no more hiding and running away.”

With a wide smile, Phil nodded. “You couldn’t convince me otherwise, love,” he said and pressed a kiss to the side of Dan’s neck. 

LORAS

Loras dismounted and followed Lady Sansa through the gates. Had Renly really been thinking of him in his absence? “Please, don’t lie to me. Did he really speak about me?” He cleared his throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Yes. I swear to you, he speaks of you as if you never parted ways and to anyone who will listen.”

That brought some sort of relief to his heart, but still, there was so much to know, so much to yell at him about, so much to laugh about, so much to celebrate. Would they even recognise each other? “How is he doing?”

“He’s healthy. His hair is much longer, I think it suits him, but he is often sad. Having you back will bring him joy, I’m sure. Shireen can’t wait to see you again as well.”

“Shireen - she was barely a little girl last I saw her. How is she?”

“Tall, learning a lot from the Lady of Bear Island every time they meet,” Sansa said as they approached the Crypts. “Mind the steps; every third one is uneven.”

“To delay intruders?” He asked. 

Sansa nodded and took one of the torches, descending the steps ahead. 

“Clever,” Loras said and followed her in.

They walked much further in than Loras had thought until they saw Renly and Shireen standing before one of the statues. 

“This was Lyanna Stark, sister of Ned Stark. She was very beautiful and kind and my brother Robert loved her - perhaps a bit too obsessively,” he mumbled.

Shireen stepped closer to the statue and ran her hands on the stone. “What are these?”

“What, darling?” Renly asked. Loras’ heart quickened when he saw his husband looking much more mature yet gentler than the last time he’d seen him.

“These small purple stones over her heart. She’s the only one with stones,” Shireen noted.

“I can answer that, My Lady,” said Sansa. “I asked the same question once when I was very little. Father said that he wanted to give his sister in death what she had wanted in life.”

Both Shireen and Renly turned around. His husband had the good sense to take a step back when Loras raised an eyebrow at him, but he still looked at Loras with adoration, even in the dimly lit Crypts of Winterfell.

“What does that mean?” Shireen asked, cocking her head, her eyes travelling from Sansa to Loras and back.

“I am not sure. He never explained,” Sansa said. “Would you like to see the dress I’m making?”

“Of course,” she said before hugging Loras tightly. “Welcome, Uncle Loras. I hope that we can speak at the feast tonight.”

Loras dropped a kiss on top of her head and rubbed her arms. “Of course. It is nice to see you,” he said and watched Shireen walk away with Sansa, who looked over her shoulder with a smile before turning around the corner. 

“Lo…”

“How dare you?” Loras asked. “You made me think you were dead! I grieved you and you were…” He gestured vaguely.

“Up north, living in the woods, then in a farm. I became quite good at growing vegetables and raising pigs,” Renly smiled.

“It’s not funny.”

“I know, love,” Renly said, walking up to him and grasping his trembling hands. “I will spend the rest of my life begging you to forgive me, but I do not regret my decision.”

“Why?” Loras asked, one tear rolling down his cheek.

“That night -” Renly said and pulled him into a hug. “Lo - it was horrible. It was by mere chance that I survived. That thing, it had my brother’s face. It tried to stab me, but Catelyn Stark called my name and when I turned around, the shadow hit a pendant Phil had given me only moments before. I was confused, betrayed, and terrified of the possibilities. What would be of you when I died? Of Shireen? So many people would have died. I think that I was saved for a reason and I made sure to keep us all alive until it was safe.” He kissed Loras’ hair.

“I was devastated,” Loras choked out. “I thought that I would go mad with grief so I did whatever I could do to keep the pain buried deep inside. I joined the Lannisters only to kill Stannis. I put a sword through his head and another through his heart for you! Then I rolled from bed to bed, from lover to lover, hoping to feel less but all I could do was drown in a sea of sorrow and misery. I hate who I became.”

“I don’t fault you for what you did, my love,” Renly said and Loras could see that he was being honest, even if he was hurt. “You thought that I was gone and instead of letting that kill you, you kept yourself alive through the tremendous pain and now you are here with me. We get another chance to make things right.” He shook his head. “I could never be angry at you for continuing with your life without me.”

Loras looked up to his husband and finally kissed him. He kissed Renly for all the years he couldn’t do so. It tasted of the salt of his tears, of heartbreak and of hope for what was to come. He now realised he was not only deeply hurt and angry at Renly, but at himself, for not being a better husband, for not waiting longer.

“I love you, Loras. Wanting to see you again was the only thing keeping me alive. Time changes people, so does war, but my love for you will never change, even if your love for me does.”

Loras pressed his forehead to Renly’s. “I could never stop loving you, but if you ever lie to me again I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Renly led Loras back to his room and by the fireplace removed every piece of clothing from his body, before laying him down on the furs and running his lips all over Loras’ skin. 

Moaning, Loras let his eyes fall shut as Renly took him into his mouth and pleasured him over and over again until he was covered in sweat, shaking and begging for mercy. Only then, Renly took him, gently, lovingly, burning slow like a lasting fire that threatened to drive Loras mad. 

SAM

The Citadel, The Reach, Westeros. 

The life of an aspiring Maester was not what Sam had imagined. He was mostly ignored except when he received orders, his time to read was fairly limited and there was more cleaning old Maesters’ chamber pots than he had foreseen, the number of which was none. Serving lunch and supper was a less nefarious affair, but still not what he had travelled so far for. He had been kindly allowed to keep Gilly and Baby Sam with him after much argument, but his access to the restricted library was denied every time he asked. He could see from afar that the titles he needed to research were there. Everything about The Long Night, the prophecies, information about previous winters even; everything was behind bars. 

There was, of course, an incredible amount of books at his disposal, thousands of them, and he did learn many things, but he wanted to learn more.

At least he was able to send Jon a raven letting him know that he’d found a book describing the deposit of dragonglass under Dragonstone. It seemed both obsidian and the island were of volcanic origin.

---

An odd thing happened when he was assigned to feed those in seclusion. A greyscale riddled hand shot out of the door and tried to grab him, asking him about the Dragon Queen and if she had arrived at Westeros yet, but he didn’t know. 

This person, the man locked away in that room, got his attention right away but there was no information about him and the Archmaester refused to answer until a few weeks later, when he asked Sam to accompany him into the man’s room. 

As it turned out, the man was nobody but Jeor Mormont’s son, Jorah. The Archmaester said the greyscale had spread too much and he had one more day to decide what to do. It was a polite way to suggest to him that he end his own suffering, but - Sam had seen something, a rare procedure that had worked once before. He was banned from treating Ser Jorah because it was simply too dangerous, but loyal to his old Lord Commander, Sam brought the necessary elements in the middle of the night and offered the man the option: A painful and slow procedure that would require cutting the outer layers of his skin with dragonglass and using a special ointment, while he had to keep silent so they wouldn’t be discovered. 

They agreed to continue. Ser Jorah biting down on a piece of leather to keep from screaming and a bottle of rum between them to take swigs from as things got more and more difficult, but come morning, hands exhausted and trembling, the treatment was completed and the only thing left to do was wait. By the time the Archmaester decided to check on Ser Jorah, he found him to be in perfect condition; except for the very vivid scars, and asked him nothing but to leave since his room was needed for the ill. Sam had found that Daenerys Targaryen had arrived at Dragonstone and let him know that, which made Ser Jorah smile for the first and only time.

Sam was punished for his rebellious attitude and for trying to use a banned procedure that could have killed him, but he was also rewarded by being allowed to transcribe books and documents that were rotting away at the Citadel. 

One of said books was quite interesting, to say the least. Gilly was reading an old maester’s diary when she found that Rhaegar Targaryen’s wedding to his wife Elia Martell had been annulled shortly before his death and he’d married someone else in a secret ceremony: Lyanna Stark.

“But - Robert’s rebellion started because it was said she was captured by Rhaegar. That’s why Robert hated him and his entire family so much. It was based on a lie!” Sam said.

Gilly frowned. “Do you think he knew that?”

“Perhaps… perhaps not. He was supposed to marry her, but I guess she didn’t feel the same way.”

“It says here that they both died within a year of their wedding,” Gilly said before picking little Sam up. He was taking to running around the library if left to roam for too long.

“That’s sad, don’t you think?”

Gilly nodded but focused back on their child. 

Still, Sam took an interest in reading more about Targaryen history, which resulted conveniently when he received a new raven asking him to return to the North and go to Winterfell. Jon was now King in the North, Daniel was Lord of Winterfell and so many things had changed since he’d sailed south, but Jon was asking him to return and he would, even if he was not ready. 

Stealing the keys from the restricted library and taking every book about their current predicament that he could find was easy enough. Escaping with said books, a woman, and a child in the middle of the night was a different matter. Thankfully, they made it out of the Citadel without being discovered.

ARYA

Inn at the Crossroads, Westeros.

Arya ran her fingers through her hair and smiled up to the sun. She was close enough to King’s Landing, but before she went on with her list, there was something she wanted to do.

Tying her horse outside, she walked into the Inn at the Crossroads and sat at a table, looking around for a familiar face and soon enough, he found her. 

“Arri!” Hot Pie said, setting a tray with various dishes on her table. “How are you doing?”

“Who are those for?” She asked and not waiting for an answer, grabbed a bowl of soup and a plate of pie. She took a few bites and groaned. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, the secret of my pie is to brown the butter beforehand; nobody takes the time to do that.”

“Hmm, I didn’t do that,” she commented.

“Have you baked pies before?”

“Done one or two recently,” she smiled.

“Where have you been?” Hot Pie asked. “Everyone thought you were dead!”

“That works well enough for me. I’ve been all around. Just came back from Braavos.”

“Braavos? What were you doing there?”

“Becoming a trained assassin for the God of Death,” she said before bursting out laughing.

Hot Pie joined her, clutching at his belly with how ridiculous the idea sounded to him. Arya couldn’t blame him, she wouldn’t have believed it either. He wiped his eyes and patted her hand. “Are you going back home?”

“No, why would I?”

“To see your family!”

“The Boltons are in Winterfell.”

“No, they’re not. Your brother Jon and the other one took it back and killed them. Your sister is there too.” He bit into one of the pies as well and smiled at her. “I met your brother, did you know? The tall one?”

“Are you absolutely sure, Hot Pie?”

“Yes! I tell you, I hear everything around here. People like to talk.”

Arya pressed her lips into a line before nodding. “Thank you,” she said, standing up. “Don’t get murdered, Hot Pie. You are a good man.”

“I won’t. Promise,” he hugged her and patted her back. “Hey, Arri. I don’t know how I believed you were a boy. You’re pretty.”

She laughed. “Thank you.”

Walking out of the Inn she realised she hadn’t paid for her meal but she didn’t have any silver left and didn’t want to steal so she just took her horse and rode to the Crossroads. She had two options: King’s Landing or Winterfell. She searched in her heart and realised that seeing her family meant more to her than killing Cersei ever would. She wanted to hug them, to speak to them. 

Patting the side of her horse’s neck, she pulled the reins to the path leading north.

---

After weeks of travelling, she decided to camp for a full night and set a fire, which she often didn’t, but she was finally entering the North and she could feel the cold seeping into her bones. She knew the fire could attract unwanted visitors, criminals, and predators, but it was cold enough for her to take that chance.

Setting the fire took some time and there was barely any shelter from the elements but at least Arya had a good spot to see any attackers coming. She was just about to lay down on a fallen tree for the night when there was noise around her. She could hear it all around her, as if she was being watched, but no matter where she looked, she couldn’t see anything, until -

A growl coming from behind her startled Arya. She turned around very slowly, only to be met by a wolf, then another, and another, an entire pack surrounding her and her horse. She considered her options, but there was no chance she would make it out alive. Finally another wolf arrived and all the others let it through. Arya smiled; she would’ve recognised that face anywhere. 

“Hello, girl. You are so beautiful, so grown. I see you have a pack now,” Arya took a step towards Nymeria even though she was growling at her, threatening to bite her. “It’s alright, Nymeria, It's me. I’m going home.” She took another step and another until Nymeria could smell her better and stopped growling. “You should come with me. Direwolves belong in the North.”

Nymeria took a step away from her, licking her lips. The other members of the pack did the same. After giving her one last look, Nymeria turned around and walked away from her, leading her pack away from Arya. “I guess that’s not you anymore.”

Sitting down on the fallen tree and looking into the flames, Arya smiled sadly. She wished she could go back in time and live her old life, with her entire family alive, with Nymeria, just - feeling that same sort of excitement for life again. She laid down and closed her eyes, falling into a heavy sleep, dreaming of her parents and Winterfell and the magic lost.

DAN

Jon stood out in the gallery, where their father used to stand and watch them play, train and grow. He looked at his men training, the blacksmiths forging new weapons and frowned, looking down at the message on his and passing it to Sansa. 

“Do you think it’s really Tyrion? It could be someone trying to lure you into a trap,” said Sansa.

“All dwarfs are bastards in their father’s eyes,” Jon said. “That’s what he told me when we first met. You know him better than any of us. What do you think?”

“Tyrion is not like the other Lannisters, he was always kind to me, but it’s too great of a risk,” Sansa mused. 

“I think you should go,” Dan said. 

She pursed her lips and read the rest of the message out loud. “The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on The Iron Throne. Join us, together, we can end her tyranny.”

“I like the sound of that. You should meet her,” Dan said, feeling more certain about it.

“Daenerys Targaryen has 3 full grown dragons, thousands of Unsullied soldiers and an enormous Dothraki horde, it would be crazy, but - dragons breathe fire and fire kills White Walkers,” added Ser Davos.

“And there’s the dragonglass she is sitting upon,” Jon said. “We need it.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“I still value your opinion, Sansa, and I do agree that it is dangerous, but I have to go.”

“I will join you,” she said.

“You will not. Dan and Ser Davos will sail to Dragonstone with me. You, dear sister, are in charge of Winterfell. Dan said you know more about running our home than he does, so for the time being you will be the Lady of Winterfell.”

“Phil should come with us,” Dan rushed to add.

“Why is everyone going but me?” Sansa complained, although her face had lit up at being named Acting Lady.

Jon snickered. “And why would Phil need to come with us?”

“Well - the Tyrells and the Targaryens have always been allies.”

Ser Davos cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Your Grace, would the Mother of Dragons speak with a bastard?”

“She is the Breaker of Chains, I don’t see why not. She will have to speak to two, whether she wants it or not.”

Dan was starting to doubt his suggestion, but he didn’t want to be away from Phil again. “Perhaps send a raven in advance.”

Balerion came charging at him and to Dan’s surprise, he hid behind him. “What is wrong?” he asked, but then felt claws and paws trying to reach Balerion through his legs. “Ser Pounce! Leave him be, he’s scared of you!”

The black direwolf whined and backed away from the cat.

“Oh, come here you,” Dan said, picking the cat up and bringing him to his chest. “It’s alright. You are safe here. I know you lost your master, but you have a home with us.”

“You could take the wolves as well. She’ll make you leave your weapons but might let you keep them with you.”

“Are you also going to suggest that I take the cat as well?” Jon asked.

“No, Ser Pounce stays with me,” Sansa said, extending her hands towards the orange cat and catching him as he jumped towards her. “Come, help me finish embroidering my new dress by the fire. I’ll let you sleep on my bed.”

“The animals in this castle are spoiled,” Ser Davos said. 

Dan nodded. “They are, but they do rip the throats of those trying to harm us if needed so I believe it’s a fair trade.”

---

The journey south was long and not pleasant at all, but it at least allowed Dan to be able to reconnect with Phil and the wolves enjoyed the change of scenery and adventure. In a way, maybe Dan and Phil were like them too, not too eager to settle in one place and lay roots. No matter how much Dan had missed his home, being away from it, even if it was for a brief trip, allowed him to breathe a little easier, to rest better at night. As long as they were in the ship, he could pretend that there was no threat or impending doom hanging over their heads. In the ship, he could just be Dan and he could just love Phil.

That calm, that sense of relief vanished as soon as he saw the distant shores of Dragonstone. A sterile looking mountain full of sharp edges with a stone castle and a sandy beach.

As Sansa had foreseen, their weapons were taken as soon as they arrived at the beach, but after sending one of the Unsullied generals to plea for them, Ghost, Greywind and Balerion, were allowed to follow, granted that their masters stood between them and the Queen’s men.

A long winding path uphill and heavy wooden doors later, they finally stood in the Throne Room.

A beautiful girl, perhaps Daenerys’ advisor or Lady in waiting spoke first to introduce her. “You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen, rightful heir to The Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Daenerys nodded at them and waited for them to introduce themselves.

“This is Jon Snow…” said Ser Davos. “He's King in the North.”

Tyrion Lannister made no effort to hide his laugh.

“Thank you for travelling so far, My Lord, I hope the seas weren't too rough.”

“The winds were kind, Your Grace,” said Jon with a smile.

Daenerys then looked at Dan and Phil, thankfully Phil was the one to break the ice. “Your Grace, I am a mere bastard of House Tyrell, my name is Philip Flowers.”

“Welcome, Philip. Your grandmother is one of my supporters, she said that you may accompany Daniel, the Lord of Winterfell, as you two are betrothed.”

Dan started coughing in spite of himself but recovered quickly when Phil nodded. “Yes, this is Daniel Stark, Lord of Winterfell and younger sibling of King Jon Snow.”

“Lord Tyrion spoke highly of you and your brother, My Lord. It is surprising to me that you are housing a usurper, Renly Baratheon, yet you decided to answer my summon,” she said.

Phil took a step forward but Dan reached for his hand and laced their fingers. “Your Grace, I mean no offence. Renly is Ser Loras Tyrell’s husband and consequently a part of Phil’s family. The Tyrells and Renly himself saved my life at the time of my father’s execution. They hid me in King’s Landing and helped me escape. A few months later, when my brother Robb was leading the war against the Lannisters, Renly accepted his offer for an allegiance, respecting the North’s independence, but there was an attempt on his life, orchestrated by a Red Priestess and he decided to let everyone believe he was dead to keep Stannis’ daughter, his niece, safe as well as Loras. He knew he couldn’t win then so he waited, and now he is willing to keep waiting. He sends a message, if I may…”

Tyrion looked at her for approval and walked over to Dan who gave him the parchment. Balerion tried to lick his face but sat still when Dan snapped his fingers. “It says that he does not want to go to an open war with you, Your Grace. Instead he wants to negotiate once your common enemies have been defeated. He says he has no army at the moment and he does not think it is time for him to search for one, he is merely following Jon Snow’s commands in this war.”

Daenerys raised one eyebrow at Dan and looked towards Jon. “What war is Renly Baratheon speaking of, Lord Snow? Is it yours with the crown?”

Ser Davos cleared his throat. “Your grace, apologies, I have a flea bottom accent, but Jon Snow is King in the North, he's not a Lord.” 

“Forgive me…” Daenerys trailed off, looking at her Hand.

“Your Grace, this is Ser Davos Seaworth,” said Tyrion.

Daenerys nodded. “Forgive me,  Ser Davos, I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I read the last King in the North was Tauren Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen in exchange for his life and the lives of the northmen. Tauren Stark swore fealty to house Targaryen in perpetuity, or do I have my facts wrong?”

“I wasn't there, Your Grace,” Ser Davos pointed out.

“No, of course not, but still an oath is an oath in perpetuity,” Daenerys said. “What does perpetuity mean, Lord tyrion?”

“Forever.”

“Forever,” Daenerys smiled. “So I assume, My Lord, you're here to bend the knee.”

Jon shook his head. “I am not.”

“No? Well, that is unfortunate,” her smile turned as cold as ice. “You've travelled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen?”

“Break faith?” Jon scoffed. “Your father burned my grandfather alive, he burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms if-” 

“My father was an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family, and I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father,” Daenerys said. “Our two houses were allies for centuries and those were the best centuries the Seven Kingdoms have ever known, centuries of peace and prosperity with a Targaryen sitting on The Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow, honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine, bend the knee and I will name you Warden of the North. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it.”

“You're right,” Jon said. “You're not guilty of your father's crimes and I'm not beholden to my ancestors' vows.”

Dan looked at Phil with a small smile. Jon was so good at this, he was a true King.

“Then why are you here?” She pressed, clearly unhappy.

“Because I need your help and you need mine,” Jon replied.

She cocked her head. “Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?”

“I did,” he nodded. 

“And did you see the Dothraki all of whom have sworn to kill for me?” She asked.

“They're hard to miss,” Jon smirked.

“But still I need your help…?” Daenerys said. Dan could almost picture her crossing her arms like a small child. She was a very commanding woman, albeit a bit… unrelenting.

“Not to defeat Cersei,” Jon said and Dan knew he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her. “You could storm King's Landing tomorrow and the city would fall. Hell, Stannis almost took it and he didn't even have dragons.”

“Almost,” said Tyrion.

Jon continued, unfaced. “But you haven't stormed King's Landing. Why? The only reason I can see is you don't want to kill thousands of innocent people. It's the fastest way to win the war but you won't do it, which means, at the very least, you're better than Cersei.”

“Still that doesn't explain why I need your help.”

“Because right now you, and I and Cersei, and everyone else, we're children playing at a game, screaming that the rules aren't fair.”

“You told me you liked this man,” Daenerys said curtly to Tyrion.

“I do,” he agreed.

“In the time since he's met me, he's refused to call me Queen, he's refused to bow, and now he's calling me a child.”

“I believe he's calling all of us children. Figure of speech, Your Grace.”

Jon stepped forward with a frown upon his face. “Everyone you know will die before winter's over if we don't defeat the enemy to the North.”

“As far as I can see, you are the enemy to the North,” she said.

“I am not your enemy, if I was, I wouldn’t have come with my family - the dead are the enemy.”

Daenerys sat back, pressing her back against the stone throne she was occupying. “Go on.”

“When I was ranging beyond The Wall, we saw it. We all saw it. An army of dead bodies commanded by White Walkers. There was an attack against Castle Black, the wildlings were trying to flee south and at the time, I didn’t understand. I wanted to keep them out, to protect Westeros from them. But when the battle was over, I understood that if they remained beyond The Wall, they would only make the enemy’s numbers larger. They didn’t deserve such a horrible fate, nobody does. I made a deal with one of the leaders and I sailed to Hardhome to rescue as many wildlings as I could.”

“How did that go for you, to make an allegiance with those who you were supposed to fight?”

“It didn’t go as planned, but not because of us. We tried to save them, but - the White Walkers descended from the mountains in a - a sort of snow storm, the dead raining on the camp, killing the free folk faster than we could get them out. Only a few thousand made it out alive out of the one hundred thousand. They now live near Winterfell, and some are manning the same castles they once tried to raid. Now is the time for us to put our differences behind us and unite against the dead. Once that is settled we can go to war with Cersei.”

“Do you believe this man?” Daenerys asked Tyrion.

“I was once hesitant to the stories I heard at The Wall, but the more I saw of this world, the more I realised that it is beautiful and horrifying, with magic and creatures beyond what anyone can ever imagine. I believe Jon Snow, Your Grace.”

“Very well. You and your family will be led to your rooms, Lord Snow. We have much to talk about.”

“You are taking us prisoners?” Jon asked.

“You are my guests for the time being,” she said and casting one last look in Phil’s direction, she left.

---

The next few days were a bit disconcerting. Jon pleaded with Daenerys to let him mine for dragonglass but she refused without much explanation. She did let them see her dragons, her children, she called them. Dan wanted to be jealous of the way Phil was fascinated by the creatures, asking her questions about them, but he was just as impressed and hanging onto her every word as well.

Still, it was a bit concerning that Daenerys gave Phil as much attention as she could, often choosing to speak to him over Dan or Jon. She even let him touch one of the dragons.

“May I, Your Grace?” Phil asked.

“That is Viserion. If he lets you… you are welcome to try,” she said with a smile.

“Phil - I don’t think that is a good idea,” Dan said.

Daenerys watched in rapt attention as Phil pressed his hand to the golden dragon’s nose, the creature almost leaning into the touch.

“Hello, Viserion, my name is Phil. You are so beautiful.”

Viserion shut his eyes and lowered his head before Phil. Both Dan and Phil turned to Daenerys, who frowned but didn’t explain what the dragon was doing.

Dan’s stomach almost crawled out of his body when the biggest of the three dragons landed beside them. Greywind stayed off to the side, eyeing him curiously, but Ghost and Barelion went up to greet him. Dan wanted to scream and throw himself to his knees, to stop them from becoming the dragon’s next meal, but he was frozen in place, knowing that any sudden movement might end with all of them dead.

Ghost trotted up to the dragon, smelling him and looking into its eyes, the dragon looking at him with interest. Balerion, of course, was too excited for such an interaction. He jumped and whined and wagged his tail at it, trying to invite him to play. 

It was Daenerys who reacted first, letting out a loud laugh. “Drogon, he wants to play! What do you think?”

“Balerion, come here!” Dan said through gritted teeth.

“You named him Balerion?” She asked, turning to him.

“Of course. He has always been a black dread and the biggest of the litter,” Dan said with a smile. “He likes most people, so he’s not that menacing.”

“Still, I like that you named him after such a great Targaryen symbol.”

Dan nodded. “My sister Arya’s wolf was named Nymeria. We don’t hate the Targaryens despite everything that’s happened, but the northerners appreciate their independence. They will never trust a southern Queen - or a King for that matter. The North being a part of the Seven Kingdoms is a mere formality. None of them bother with us and we don’t bother with them.” 

“What do you suggest then?”

“Help us fight the dead and we will help you take King’s Landing.”

“How would I know you wouldn’t be helping Renly Baratheon instead?”

“We would help vacate the throne. Whether you or Renly agree to take it, that is your business.”

“And you believe him when he says he doesn’t want a war?”

“I do. He spent years away from Loras to keep him safe and to keep Shireen safe. Keeping her safe was more important to him than his claim to the throne so he decided to take her into hiding. He would have wanted to be here, but he feels responsible for her and he knew coming here would be dangerous for him. He’s a good man.”

“You speak very highly of him,” she said.

“He helped me and he tried to help my father but he was too stubborn and honourable to accept his offer.”

“Do you think honour is a bad trait?”

“When it can leave your children fatherless and your house in danger - yes. Renly didn’t ask him to kill anyone, just to take Cersei and her children into custody, that was all.”

“Would the great Renly Baratheon let his nephews and niece live to question his claim?”

“I believe so. He is not a killer, he is not even a fighter. He is trying to learn now, to join the war, but that’s not who he is.”

She nodded. “When we take King’s Landing, I want him to fight alongside your brother.”

“Does that mean that you agree to his proposal?” Dan asked.

“I am not sure yet, Lord Stark. I will know when I speak to him in person,” she said before letting out a shocked laugh when Balerion pressed his nose to her hand. She ran her fingers through his fur without a thread of fear, not even when he chewed onto her fingers. “Balerion… you are not a black dread, just a sweet child.”

Balerion let out a short, excited howl and took off running around Drogon who merely looked at him and exhaled through his nose.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan au #succubusphan fics #game of thrones #got fic #ospbb 2022

[jtownraindancer]

hello! i would LOVE to watch jamestown but am a little apprehensive because of possible triggers? so i thought i'd ask! is there anything i should watch out for? in the vein of like... sexual assault, hate crimes (tho this is a given bc period piece but like. how violent would it get?), and frequency of character death? thank you!

​ Hello Anon!

Absolutely a fair question, and one I'm very happy to answer! I'll address each of these one-by-one, and if there are any other possible triggers you're wondering about, please feel free to ask~

This is going to spoil some of the show, so I'm putting my full reply below the cut.

​Sexual Assault:

Right off the top of my head, there is one very distinct instance of sexual assault, right in the beginnings of Season 1 (may even be Episode 1 if memory serves). The rape itself is not graphic- there's a build up, but the scene ends before anything is actually shown. However! The attack is a defining moment for quite a few of the main cast- relationships are formed based on reactions to it (all resoundingly in the victim's corner!), and it is mentioned off-and-on again throughout the series.

Hate Crimes:

I don't… I can't quite say there are many hate crimes as we would know them, but some general things to look out for…

There is a very tentative relationship between the Colonists & the Pamunkey Tribe, a tension which builds up into the final episode where a lot of characters are killed on screen- mostly background. (Season 3 was arguably the most graphic of the lot, starting with the private execution of an alleged "traitor" to the governor.)

​The slave trade hangs heavily over the series starting at the end of Season 1, an introduction that tastes even more bitter when it's discovered that they were acquired illegally (and against the wishes of a majority of the colonists). I… I have much I'd like to say about it, but to do so would spoil a lot of plot points later. I will say however that there's nothing particularly graphic in this end (and Pedro and Marie alone are worth watching the show for!)

For queerphobia, there… wasn't much? The most that comes of it are a few instances where Thomas & Jocelyn both make jabs at Nicholas for his 'tastes,' though in the end it's clear they both really do care for him. Also in regards to an intersex character, the only fault found in her is the deception that allowed him to come to Jamestown to begin with. There's also the strong implication that not only does another character remain open-minded about folks pursuing certain 'bedfellows,' but the possibility that he himself may be queer. (Kind of a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, but definitely there.)

Religion-wise, there is definitely a period-accurate bias towards Protestantism (and a hatred/suspicion of Catholics which will come up several times), and references are made about wanting to "convert" the indigenous population, but that's about the extent of it? Some characters do use ''Christianity'' as a cover, but uh… Spoilers on that end. Put succinctly… In spite of a period-accurate lean towards Protestantism, there are still a few characters who definitely are not of the same mind. In the main cast alone, I can think of at least three Jamestown residents who stand apart from the others in terms of spirituality (or lack thereof).

Violence:

While there's not a lot of gore in this show, there are certain scenes that can seem gruesome in the context. As I found this show through PBS, I wasn't expecting a lot of gore itself, but the implications involved, and the very rare, rare moments where things are actually shown, carry enough weight on their own. (There is one scene that comes to mind with a smuggler and some molten metal, but I couldn't seem to look away; Farlow was fucking terrifying. 💀)

Character Death:

Some great news! Most of the characters survive this series!

Bad news! The characters who do leave will probably hurt!

Would like to again offer a warning for the finale of Season 3, which leads into the very real beginnings of the Indian Massacre of 1622, a slaughter that took out nearly 1/4 of the Virginian colonists. The show does not get graphic, but the implications, and the brief hints we're shown on screen do plenty of damage.

Overall:

There were quite a few liberties taken with this show, and at times it feels vaguely soap opera-esque in the writing choices. But overall I did enjoy this one, and I would recommend it! Even if you decide to watch just for Alice, Verity, and Jocelyn, I would still ask you to give it a try because there are so many interesting characters to meet in this series, and it does offer a decent (if over-exaggerated) glimpse into life in Jamestown.

If you're still interested in giving Jamestown a whirl, I hope you enjoy it! (And please feel free to scream in my inbox and/or DMs about it.)

Thanks for the ask friend; I hope this helped, and if not, please don't hesitate to reach out. Love and light!

#jamestown #anon asks #hello friend! #trigger warnings #i uh... i'm not sure how to tag this tbh #spoilers #??? #tw sex assault #tw slavery #tw queerphobia #tw violence #on a personal note? as a sa survivor i wasn't triggered so much by the actual scene & i felt a VERY strong connection to the victim #because of how she continued to confront it for years after the fact & always carried it with her #there's a hint of a modern day lean in that the contemptible characters are painted as such and it's NOT shied away from #nicholas' swan song was giving voice to words that countless others were dying to spit but didn't have the leave to #i think i'm going to rewatch this again tbh #it's only 24 episodes #another series i would have eventually watched no matter who was in the cast #burn being there is just an added bonus #fr tho anon if you'd like further clarification on anything or would prefer something more specific please let me know <3 #thanks for the ask!

[luminetti]

In Sea Major ₊˚.༄ Chapter 1

༘⋆ Summary: Following your parents’ passing you, a pianist, move back into your childhood waterside home. You find yourself frequently running into Dabi, the town’s resident enigma, who seems to know an awful lot about your dangerous run-ins with the ocean, and perhaps even the creatures that lie within. ༘⋆ Pairing: selkie!dabi x reader ༘⋆Warnings: mentions of death and near death experiences (reader has water trauma from childhood). Lots of grief in the beginning, less in the middle and end. Water trauma scene in this first chapter may be triggering for people with their own water trauma or phobias, please take caution and put yourself first. Future chapters will definitely be touching on aquaphobia and grief again. ༘⋆Notes: this is gonna be a series, prolly 4 chapters since they're kinda long! I really loved this idea because i think it works really well with dabi’s character so i hope you guys like it :D I made a couple additions to the lore of selkies and their abilities for this fic, so this isn’t 100% folklore accurate

read on ao3

You desperately craved a restart.

Or perhaps to be miraculously thrown back a year or two. Maybe twenty.

Anything to escape facing the devastating reality that was your parents’ untimely passing.

Over the past several weeks you’d been balancing managing your own health with the increasing demands of preparing and paying for a funeral reception. Your friends had long since moved away after graduation, going on to get their dream jobs and even getting married. And there you were, still living in the same city since ten years old, alone.

When the second wedding invitation arrived in the mail, you determined that it wasn’t a restart you needed, it was change.

Maybe you were impulsive, or maybe you just got sick of sleeping all day. Either way, when you recognized your childhood beach house in a real-estate ad, you arranged to move-in immediately.

Whatever memories you retained from childhood were blurry at best. Most of what you remembered was from your parents explaining why you had to move away. Occasionally, photos from your father’s scrapbook would jog certain parts of your memory, but you only had a couple pieces to what felt like a thousand-piece puzzle.

There were a couple things, however, that you could recall on your own such as your close childhood friends, Momo and Kyoka. Though, it was mostly thanks to an overlapping year in college with Momo.

The rest of your friends either went off to study around Japan, or stayed in town to help with family businesses. You tried to keep in touch, but you were older than most of them and had your hands full with junior, then senior high school, and finally college.

To your surprise, according to the scrapbook there was actually a boy your age that you spent a lot of time with. White hair, blue eyes, a bit shy. You couldn’t recall much more about him, but from the photos he just looked like a normal kid. Your father had mentioned him briefly when looking through the scrapbook together. You had found the little boy stranded on a cluster of rocks not too far out from the beach, likely caught by the high tide on accident. Calling for help, you and several nearby adults of the town helped bring the child back to shore and from then on you two had supposedly been best friends. Your parents tried to arrange a dinner to finally meet the boy's family but he always insisted they weren’t available.

You often found yourself wondering if he was still there or long gone by now, or if he would even remember you after all this time. To be fair, you barely remembered him either.

Your parents loved living by the beach and as a child you were enthralled by it. When the sun set over the water it would gleam and glimmer from every angle. The curtains in your bedroom stayed permanently open so you could stare out over the beach whenever you pleased. By eight years old, you were convinced that you’d never leave the town, even setting sights on becoming a diver or marine biologist as soon as possible. Your parents often called you ‘Starfish’, since you’d stick to the ocean floor if given the chance. And for two years, you fully agreed.

Memories of your tenth birthday were hard to recover, but when they returned they never left. It was the night before your birthday and you were restless, tossing and turning in your bed, unable to fall asleep. Thanks to the open curtains, you were able to look over the water, in hopes of it calming you down.

For a brief second, you caught a glimpse of bright white in the water, almost like moonlight reflecting on the waves. You watched as it disappeared under the surface, only to reappear several feet away. Dashing down the stairs, you slipped out the front door and ran towards the beach in hopes of discovering a mermaid or something of the like.

You remember standing at the edge of the beach, pitch black water barely splashing up against your feet before pulling back into the ocean. You stood there for several minutes praying the mermaid would return for you, but nothing came. Devastated, you turned to walk home.

Right as your foot left the water, you heard a soft splash from behind you. When you turned, a pale white seal was watching you about fifty feet from the shore. You began to walk towards it, but to your dismay it slipped underneath the surface before you could even take a step. Frustrated, you waded deeper into the ocean until the water rippled against your knees. 

That was when you heard it, a melody drifting through the crisp air, soft and sweet. In that moment, everything you were experiencing began to melt away and you could no longer hear the water crashing against the rocks, only the lullaby could reach your ears. If you had control over yourself, you would have noticed as the water became rougher and the ripples turned to waves. You would have stopped yourself from stepping deeper into the ocean, looking for the source of the melody. You would have turned and ran when you came face to face with a pale white woman you had never seen before. Her white hair spread out like tendrils in the water, moving as if each strand was alive. Only her striking blue eyes peeked out from the water, watching you with intensity.

If you were yourself you would have realized that though her lips moved underwater, you caught the melody as if she sung into your ear.

Had you realized, maybe you wouldn’t have let her grab your arm and tug you sharply underwater while the waves crashed into the surface above you.

You don’t remember what happened in the ocean. It was one of those missing memories that refused to resurface, no matter how hard you tried. You remember the feeling of kicking and flailing, only to be dragged deeper. You remember the burn of your lungs as they filled with water with each gulp you took.

And then you were back on shore, coughing up salty sea water and bits of kelp. Your parents hovered over you as the town’s doctor sat you up in the sand, checking you over for any severe injury.

You were fatigued and dazed, reasonable for what you had experienced. Through muffled hearing, you could make out low murmurs and then a hand on your arm, turning it over. When you finally mustered up the ability to open your eyes, you saw it. A bleached white patch on your forearm where the woman had held you. The pale blemish felt rough and wrinkled under your fingertips, as if the skin had died and then scarred as a result. When you asked about it, they told you it was likely a jellyfish, so that’s what you told everyone in town and at school.

Once the doctor declared you were alright despite the damage to your arm, you were brought back home and treated to several midnight snacks along with ice cream.

After that day, your parents said you were never the same. Every window in your room was obscured and the closed curtains left it completely cast in darkness. You stopped responding to ‘Starfish’ and refused to go near the ocean. For weeks you struggled to close your eyes in the shower. You couldn’t live like this and neither could your parents, ultimately leading to your moving away less than a month later.

You eventually managed to move on, at least as much as you could. Piano became your new escape and you developed a love for music and composing. In college, you composed several pieces inspired by your experiences with the ocean, graduating with a degree in music. Momo had coincidentally attended the same school and you were able to catch up on everything, eventually becoming close friends.

She had been the one to support you when your parents passed, suggesting you return to the town at least for spring break to catch all your friends returning from college. You called her the second the real-estate ad showed up on your laptop and with her encouragement and assistance, the house was yours within a week.

Finally, that brought you to now, hauling several boxes from the van to your new doorstep with some help from Kyoka, Izuku, and Ochaco, who were all excited to see you again.

“I think there’s two left,” you gasped, letting the large box drop from your arms and onto the floor of your living room with a thud. Massaging your aching muscles, you leaned against the sofa to catch your breath. Momo reclined in the chair beside you with a box at her feet while Izuku stumbled through your doorway, two boxes stacked in his arms blocking his face. Rushing to his rescue, you lifted the top box to reveal his enthusiastic smile. 

“Not anymore,” Izuku chirped, placing the final box in the living room with all the others. “Do you need any help taking some upstairs?” he offered, rolling up his sleeves.

You shook your head. “You’ve done so much, Izu. I should be fine.” 

“Ejiro’s coming to get the van.” Kyoka said, leaning against the doorway, phone in hand.

Ochaco peered over her shoulder, waving a coupon. “Lunch?”

The five of you shuffled into the diner, taking a seat at one of the booths. A head of spiky blonde hair reluctantly approached your group, notepad in hand.

“You’re working here now, Katsuki?” You questioned, laughing at his grim expression. He looked uncharacteristically domestic in his sunny yellow apron.

Glowering at you, he gripped his pen tighter. “Fuckin’ mom’s making me. I couldn’t care less about this place.”

From beside you, Ochaco whispered in your ear. “He cried when he got back from University.”

After taking everyone’s orders, Katsuki sourly retreated to the kitchen, grumbling about how he can’t wait to leave this ‘shithole.’

As the food came, the diner brightened with the laughter of your old friends. They took the time to catch you up on all the town news, like the wedding between two of your childhood teachers, and upcoming job opportunities at college. Izuku was just in the middle of explaining his internship with Sorahiko Torino when the diner door opened, revealing a tall man with deep black hair.

You watched as he sauntered to the counter, taking a to-go bag and turning to leave. The first thing you noticed was his eyes, strikingly blue, almost icy. He was completely covered with piercings, several along both ears, and one on his nose. The man seemed to be older than most of your friends, more around your age.

“Is he new? I don’t recognize him at all,” you asked, leaning into Ochaco quietly.

Looking up to follow your gaze, she nodded. “Sort of. He appeared a couple years after you moved away.”

From across the table, Kyoka turned in her seat to see what everyone was looking at. “Oh, that’s Dabi.” She shrugged. “He’s kinda just here. I’m pretty sure his house is on the opposite side of town from yours. I’ve never seen him near the beach.”

As he left the diner, he briefly caught sight of your table, all staring at him. Your friends quickly averted their eyes, returning to their food or chatting quietly among themselves. For a moment, his eyes locked onto yours and you felt like you couldn’t pull away. Instead, you raised a hand to apprehensively wave at him, smiling lightly.

The second you lifted your arm, his gaze snapped to the pale white scar littering your skin. He paused, eyes flicking back up to yours, examining your features.

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, you looked to Kyoka for assistance, but she just raised her shoulders at you. When you looked back towards the door, he was gone.

Kyoka scoffed. “That went better than when I came back. He didn’t even look at me for a year.”

Momo sighed, patting Kyoka on the shoulder with sympathy. “He’s not really the social type.”

Nodding, you turned back to your food while the atmosphere returned to its usual joyful chatter.

Evening eventually came and forced you to bid farewell to your friends. Returning to your house, you realized your living room was stuffed with boxes of varying sizes, six stacked on your coffee table and at least four on the couch. Taking a deep breath, you got to work reorganizing the clutter. All the furniture went towards the back of the room and the boxes were either stacked on top or underneath, wherever they could fit.

A good twenty minutes later, you finally cleared a place for your piano. Thankfully, Eijiro was a professional mover and was scheduled to return with the van in the morning. Satisfied, you lugged your nighttime belongings up the stairs to the second floor.

Out of habit, you rounded the corner towards your bedroom. The second you stepped through the door, a familiar shiver ran up your spine. Across from your bed, the curtains were thrown wide open, leftover from the open houses that had been held a couple weeks prior.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you turned around and headed towards the master bedroom. As you pushed the door open to your parents’ old room you realized your mistake. Everything had been kept the same from your childhood. The bookshelves still sat underneath the windowsill you used to sit on and flip through your father’s scrapbook, and the walls were still painted a familiar shade of sage green. The carpet even still had a dark stain from where you had spilled a glass of orange juice.

The longer you looked, the heavier the box in your arms became. Dropping it at your feet, you hurried down the stairs back to the living room. Suddenly dizzy, you feel your hand grip the head of the sofa, steadying yourself. You blinked away fogginess, feeling cold liquid trickle down your cheeks. Your chest tightened, claustrophobic from just standing inside the house.

Without thinking, you ran for the door, flinging it open and spilling out onto the pavement. You needed a distraction. Somewhere to be other than here.

Letting your feet carry you, you found yourself at the local 24/7 convenience store. You weren’t exactly sure why, though. Perhaps the fluorescent lights provided comfort.

You stalked the aisles, mindlessly skimming the rows of products hoping you’d see something you wanted. Soap, body wash, hair products, nothing was catching your eye.

Finally you reached the far end of the store where the entire wall was covered in cosmetic products. Out of options, you decided to skim the selection in case there was anything exciting. To your surprise, someone was standing there in front of the foundation section. Walking closer, you recognized him as Dabi, the man from the diner.

Hearing your footsteps, he tilted his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. You hadn’t realized it from a distance, but the skin underneath his eyes and chin was rippled and uneven, much like the scarring on your arm.

As you neared closer, he turned to stare down at you with narrowed, uninterested eyes, like your mere presence was an inconvenience to him.

To your surprise, his gaze softened, seemingly recognizing you and turning back to the cosmetics.

You couldn’t help but watch as he rifled through the small glass bottles, plucking one from the wall, holding it up against his skin, and then putting it back. He repeated the process for three more bottles until he began to get visibly frustrated, running a hand through his hair and grunting.

Peering around him to look at the products, you noticed all the shades he picked were a bit too cold for his skin tone. Despite his scrutinizing stare burning into your back, you reached over and picked out a pale bottle with an olive undertone.

“Hold out your hand,” you offered, turning to face him.

He blinked silently at you, but obliged, presenting you with his palm.

You took his hand and pressed it against the bottle. It was the right hue, just a tad too light. Facing the cosmetics wall again, you scanned for a darker shade. To your dismay, the brand you found was completely out of everything else. Pursing your lips, you looked back up at him.

Before you had the chance to speak, Dabi took a step forward, leaning completely over you to reach for another bottle on the top shelf. The collar of his jacket lightly brushed against your cheek, enveloping you in the musky scent of cigarettes and rich cologne. For a moment, you could almost detect notes of marine-like bergamot, but it faded into amber and cedarwood as he pulled away.

You stared up at him, heart racing and cheeks slightly warm. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze, feeling almost sheepish for being so affected.

Feeling something cold against your palm, you looked to see a small bottle similar to the one you held, only slightly darker. Glancing upward, he just looked down at you expectantly. Looking closer at the bottle, you realized it was nearly his exact shade.

You handed it back to him, nodding brightly.

If you didn’t know any better, you might as well have given him a treat with the way his eyes lit up. Gripping the foundation in his hand, he leaned down to match your height, suffocatingly close.

“‘Preciate it, doll,” he spoke to you in a low and gruff voice, slightly hoarse.

Pulling away after what felt like hours, Dabi gave you one final look before leisurely meandering to the cashier and leaving the store.

You stared at the empty doorway for several seconds after he left, chest heaving and heart rate quickened. Once you managed to break out of your stupor, you silently walked back towards your house. You hadn’t expected him to engage with you in the slightest. According to your friends, he barely paid them any mind despite living in town for years.

The walk went quicker than expected, pulling you from your thoughts as you approached the front door.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scents of cedar as you walked up the stairs and into your bedroom. With shaky hands you pull the curtains shut, stomach churning.

For the first time in years, you slipped off your shoes and cautiously sat on the edge of your bed. You slowly laid back against the pillow, racking your brain for distractions. As you replayed your interaction with Dabi, your breathing slowed and your body sunk into the mattress, drifting off into a quiet sleep.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki #dabi #dabi x you #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha #mha x reader #mha x you #siren au #selkie au #mermaid au

[porcelaintoybox23]

The Medium by Blooper is Meh

Context:

I’ve been watching retrospectives of games I never had the systems to play and I’ve been going through Yourfavoriteson’s Silent Hill videos. Now, I saw the fuss over Blooper being in charge of the remake of a game I, personally, found to be okay. The story isn’t that interesting, nor do I find James to be a good character. To be fair, I watched this game 20 years after its release so I guess its narrative was groundbreaking at the time. (SH3 is better) So, I wanted to see what the hype/neg was all about and I have to say I don’t understand the vitriol.

The Good:

The opening sequence made me tear up. No matter the rest of the game, the first like 10-15 minutes was beautiful.

Lily: I love this little ghost

Marianne: I actually liked her. She’s funny and a decent MC.

Visuals: game is visually stunning for many of its parts. I loved the split screen and how it shifts around.

The Meh:

This is where much of my confusion around the hate is from. The game is not the most offensive or spectacular thing I have ever seen. I don’t think it handles mental health well at all but I don’t think it villainized Lily or excused Richard. Let’s just start from the beginning.

The skin cutting thing was…a choice. I see why this would anger people because it felt gratuitous. SH like that has always squicked me out so it was mostly just gross for me. I do think a trigger warning would have been helpful. There was also no true purpose behind it? The guy in the room cut. Why? Why is that relevant? Why is it relevant enough to become a game mechanic?

There are lots of little details that are completely irrelevant. There’s fleshing out your characters and then there’s padding out time. The man cuts, there’s a ballerina with problems, some guy voted at his job, HENRY will get his own section, Lily’s friend(s) that only seemed to know her and not Marianne…the list goes on.

What the fuck is Niwa and why is it relevant. The lore around this place is completely irrelevant and feels like it’s part of a separate and better story. Is it a hotel? Is it a secret experiment base by the government? Is it a retirement home? Is it for workers? How did Thomas get there?

The WW2 and communism thing is tenuous at best and completely unnecessary at worst. I lean toward the latter. This is so overplayed. I’m not Polish so I cannot comment on what the country was like post WW2 but the communist and n*zi stuff are unnecessary.

I don’t know how long it takes to make a game, but The Last of Us 2 did the split protag thing significantly better. There was no reason for Thomas’ sections to last as long as they did. Take the time to make the story make more sense and not shoehorn the ending in five minutes.

Sigh…let’s talk about Richard. (CW CSA, SA, & N*zis) This section lasted too long. I get they were trying to show how the cycle of abuse perpetuates itself but they failed to establish this connection. Richard’s mom was SA’d so she calls a bunch of n’s to get the guy and gets Richard’s Jewish friend killed so he becomes a predator…Going by the text, no one excuses his action and everyone is happy he’s dead. BUT…the game cannot decided if demons are actual entities or the person themselves. Never properly explained if he’s a p or if there’s a demon like The Maw controlling him. Pick a lane. I see why people thought this game was empathizing with him but it’s actual text that he was sick and nothing justified what he did. I will touch on Rose in the bad section.

Henry…also did not need that much time dedicated to him. Who fucking cares! Why did Thomas know who he is? This is such a deus ex machina to give Marianne amnesia. The game’s incessant need to have WW2 and communism in the game hindered so many writing choices. I wish I had more succinct thoughts but Henry just annoys me.

How was lily a child ghost?

Game mechanics: Some scenes weren’t animated, the audio seemed out of sync but I was watching a video so who knows, there is no action in this game, it’s basically a click and play story,so many unnecessary puzzles and find the object, one decent monster.

What the f*ck is this timeline????:

This is just a confused mini rant

So Thomas is born a medium but is recruited by the noses as a secret weapon and trained. They lose the war so Thomas is jailed by the red army but breaks free. The red army kills people over food much less this dude so he’s a wanted criminal. He gets married, becomes the hotel manager and has two kids. Marianne’s birth kills the mom so Lily (a child) resents her somewhat. So Marianne and Lilly both live at the hotel but no one ever talks about Marianne for some reason. Lily is a powerful medium and talks to invisible things. Richard at some point is friends with Thomas and dropouts out of college and moves to Niwa. He sa’s Lilly and that trauma causes the demon thing to spawn. Thomas gets vengeance but outs himself in the process and Henry comes to kill him? He’s fucked up for reasons that aren’t explained and torches the house. Lily makes a deal with the maw to save herself and Marianne and lets it loose. For some reason, this girl’s trauma spawns what is basically a literal demon that for some reason really wants skin. What exactly is a medium because i dont’ think it involves creating something like that. Any case, ass pull fire gives Marianne Amnesia and the maw starts killing people trying to of find skin. I don’t know how Lily became to small but okay i guess. Salt keeps the manifestation of trauma at bay, but also his soul clone…Thomas dies (i swear the post card implies it was some dude named Francis) the monster escapes at the same time her adopted father dies and Thomas makes her come to Niwa

Writing it out, it seem less stupid but then again it doesn’t.

The Bad: Unalive CW

I deeply wish I could say the suicide ending offended me, but it felt so basic, so asinine and ass-pully that I can’t muster up more than an eye roll. Fucking lazy writing. Cop-out.

Rose…using Jewish people as plot devices in WW2 based stories is overdone, overplayed, and offensive. Bonus points for fridging a woman for man pain.

What the fuck is the soul clone? Is he Thomas?

How does this medium thing work? The monster is real and can possess people, Marianne can see the dead but also their emotionscapes, Thomas has a clone and can enter people’s minds, Lily is telepathic? The game cannot decide what is real and what is mental. Are demons real like The Maw or just representations of the darkness within like Richard? BUT Richard claims that a monster took over but that’s also an excuse shitty people give to waive away their actions…

Rating: 6/10 for enjoyment like a 4/10 overall

I understand why people don’t like the game. I don’t think it’s the worst thing ever and some of the takes about it aren’t good. It’s fine. It’s not worth whatever price it’s selling for. I don’t think it’s saying those who are mentally ill should be murdered because that would require the game to have any decent fleshing out. It doesn’t say much of anything. I may just be desensitized to poor representation.

I love horror as a genre which is why I was looking into Silent Hill. I don’t think 2 was that good either. That’s probably why I don’t care that Blooper could be in charge of the remake. I think the game shines more for it’s technical and gameplay aspects than story. The MC is unreliable? The shitty husband killed his wife? Okay. Meh.

Both games have better stories than Resident Evil Village

#the medium #blooper games #game review #so many trigger warnings #cw sa mention #cw sh mention #cw csa mention

[storge]

I miss you. The only one I can meet is you. The only one I want to see is you. I missed you so much. 

Dear Diary Ep. 17

#dear diary #我的巴比伦恋人 #cdramaedit #asiandramanet #chineseartistsinc #cdrama #dailyasiandramas #wang ruichang #Zhu Yanmanzi #mymymy #ep 17 #I know im skipping ahead BUT THIS SCENEENE #DELICIOUSNESSSSS #THE TOXICITYYYYYY #ROMANTICISMMMMM #fair warning the beginning of this scene is a little triggering #but THENNNNN #THIS PARTTTTT #if it wasnt for the characters being who they are i would be soooo against them #BUT I CANTTT #I LOVE THEMMMMMMM #like he is not real real and she is drawn to his type #and AHHHSDLIHABHFD #THIS SCENEEEEEEEE #THEY GOT ME BY THE THROATTTTT #i know its not gonna end welll I JUST KNOW IT #just STAB ME PLSSSSSS

[teddy06writes]

What Could Have Been Was Good, But What We Have Now Is Better

Part Two to You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need you Now

Requested by:

@alistorhq

@hiphopdancer101universe

@trinatiger

@lightbulb77724

plus some anons.

Quackity x reader; past sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, yelling, mentions of drinking/being hungover

premise: The confrontation, and what follows

{Okay, so at first, I was gonna have this as like a collection of various moments that would have happened in the two year span, plus the confrontation, but then I was like but that might be clunky. So, if you guys want, I'll do a part three with the little scenes I had been thinking about}

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

Slowly, the sun began to climb into the sky, beginning to peak out from between the tall buildings of Las Nevadas.

Slowly, you stirred, glaring out the open window at the sun.

For a moment, everything was normal. Your fiancé's soft snores and Charlie's soft humming from the other room almost convinced you that it was just a normal day.

But then you fully sat up, untangling yourself from Quackity's arms and glancing around to where your other 'children' were still asleep in various places in the living room.

The previous day and the reason for your camping out in the living room came flooding back to you as you stood, stretching.

Shaking your head, you went to go get dressed, beginning to recall the so called script you had made yourself the night before.

Halfway through fixing your hair, Quackity ducked into the half open bathroom door, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Good morning baby."

"Morning." You sighed, "Are you hungover or did Purp get you to stop soon enough?"

"ehhh, it's not that bad..." He said.

You nodded, turning to lean against the counter and look at him fully, "I assume that your in the same boat as me, with this whole Situation...?"

"Depends on which boat that is."

You shook your head, "What could have been was good, but..." You glanced back out the door to where you could hear Fundy and Charlie talking, "I think what we have now Is better."

Quackity seemed to breath a sigh of relief, quickly pulling you into his arms, "I agree. I know that I loved them once... but... even then it felt like being the odd one out... I don't think I'd be able to handle it again. Not after knowing what they'd done. It- it hurts to even see them..."

You melted into the embrace, glad to know he was on your side, "I'll take care of everything. I promise."

~~ After sending Charlie out to go find Sapnap and Karl, and send them to your office, you headed down to your office for yourself.

There you mindlessly organized your desk, with only semi shaky hands.

"(y/n)?"

Your head snapped up, upon hearing Karls voice, "Come in."

They entered, Karl beginning too look around at the pictures on one of the shelves as Sapnap asked, "So, where Quackity? Doesn't seem like a fair discussion if not all of us are here."

"Yeah," Karl agreed, "He should have a say too."

You rubbed at your eyes, "Unfortunately, we thought it best, for me to handle this. Q, wasn't sure he'd- deal with it in the right way."

"Well that's Quackity for you." Karl mumbled, moving to sit in one of the chairs facing your desk.

"Never could fight his own battles- not that this is one." Sapnap interrupted himself.

You frowned, "Well... I'd hardly say that. He's the one who built this place- well, I designed some buildings, he did the rest. Getting the Badlands off our backs peacefully last year was all him. Not so much peacefully as with many threats..."

Karl nodded, almost expecting you to tell the story, but you shook your head, "Anyway, that's not what I asked you here to talk about."

"Of course," Sapnap agreed, "Obviously, our relationship is slightly more important."

You sighed, "There's one thing, actually that I think I should preface with, before I state our position. Where the fuck did you go? Why the fuck did you leave us? And Why do you think you just get to show up now?"

They sat shocked for a moment, and you couldn't help but smirk, gesturing for them to speak, "No, please enlighten me. I'd like to know."

Karl and Sapnap looked to each other, Karl shaking his head, before Sapnap whispered, "We have to, if we want them back."

"I..." He faltered, turning to you, before squeaking, "I- couldn't- remember you- until a week ago."

You froze for a moment, but before you could make any comment, he rambled on, "Because of all this crazy stuff- I travel- like- through time- it was messing with my head- but it's better now, and we're here! To marry you guys!"

You looked at him confused, "Time travel?"

He nodded sagely, "I've... seen more than you can imagine, i've seen nations rise and fall, universes collapse. Hero's that even Tommy couldn't compare too, evils that..."

Karl's voice faltered, and Sapnap reached over to take his hand comfortingly.

"Let me guess. You found out that everything turns to dust eventually..." You sighed, rubbing at your temples.

"It never works out." Tiny tears leaked from his eyes, and Sapnap was quick to get up, pulling Karl into his arms.

~~ "Why did you do that?" Sapnap asked, his voice soft, but still with an air of hostility.

Karl had gone back to the hotel, quickly and quietly, tears still falling.

"I didn't do anything-"

"Clearly you did!" He cut you off.

You shook your head, pushing back your chair and standing, If he forgot us... why didn't you remind him? Tell us about him about us? Or actually come up here like you said you would?!"

"Because maybe I wanted things to be the way that they were! Maybe I liked not sharing! But maybe it was because I had to deal with that!"

You continued to pace as he sat down heavily, "He was going insane (y/n), he saw the end of everything! He had to watch the rise and fall o L'manburg over and over! He's seen the egg come and go! I had to take care of him!"

"And you don't think I've had to take care of things? You two left and I had to put Q back together! I still have to put him together sometimes! I had to keep planning this the whole time! And then I get all these fucking child soldiers all these people that your fucking friend ruined, and I had to take care of them!

I held it all together until it itself stuck- and now I have a family! And that seems like it's more than what you two could've given us! You think you're the one that had to deal with someone who'd seen too much- Charlie's been here since the beginning of the server! He may seem fine but he is haunted!

Don't act like you're the only one whos had to 'go through it' because I made a home and a family and I take care of them- even though you leaving broke me! So don't lecture me! You didn't need us then, and we sure as hell don't need you now!"

You sat down, running your hands through your hair, tugging at the ends and not daring to look at Sapnap.

"Are you serious? Wouldn't us coming back help put you back together?"

"We learned to live without you, and I don't think I want to unlearn, and it seems like my family is with me."

Still you could not make yourself look up at him.

"I guess I understand."

There was a quiet shuffling of the chair, then footsteps, before you could finally breath again and your soft sobs began to fill the office.

~~ It had hardly been two minutes before Quackity was entering your office, kneeling in front of you and pulling you into his arms, whispering about how brave you are.

You cried into his chest, "I didn't think I could do it- what if it was a mistake-"

"no babey, you did perfect. You know it yourself we are better without them. We've got our family we don't need them. You are so, so brave and I am so proud of you. So proud of you (y/n)."

He pressed kisses to your hair, trying to pull you impossibly closer to him, "Thank you... for doing something I couldn't."

You only sobbed harder, clinging to him.

That was how the others found you later, in a heap on the floor.

Wordlessly, Purpled sat next to the two of you, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Fundy found himself sitting as well, leaning against you. Charlie hummed softly as he went about fixing the chairs that Karl and Sapnap had left in disarray.

"Let us take care of you now." Quackity said softly.

The others made noises of agreement, and you let out your final sob.

Because your family was there where Sapnap and Karl weren't. And they would take care of you, the way you took care of them.

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #karlnapity #karlnapity x reader #teddy 06 writes #teddy 06