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aemondslefteyeball · 11 months

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Sic Transit Gloria Mundi (1)

[Modern! Aemond x fem!reader. Yellowjackets inspired.]

[Warnings: Substance use, violence, plane crash, Aemond is such a dickhead y'all, allusion to eating disorders, eventual smut, eventual cannibalism, more warnings to come as we go on, shit's getting dark babies]

[Summary: Loving husband sends wife on fun happy vacation with 19 of her whackiest friends! What Artemisian cult antics will they get into? Let's find out!]

(I haven't written any fanfiction in like 8 years so if this blows my bad lol. Also does anybody have a link to a guide explaining how to format fics to look all pretty? Either way let me know what you think lmk if you guys also want to throttle Aemond ily all)

Word Count: 4k

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Chapter 1:

You pulled your hoodie as low over your face as it could go, eyes downcast. Lowering your shaking hand, panic gripped your senses at a foreign touch. White-hot terror struck through you and in a second you reacted, shoving the reporter as hard as you could before retreating closer into the safety of the group. Dozens of simultaneous questions and journalists battered the haggard group as they boarded onto the plane. You kept your eyes low to the ground as your friends disappeared into the vehicle. Despite your overwhelming anxiety, you were glad for the first taste of civilization you had in nineteen months. As your hands seemed to shake beyond control and your throat clenched, you turned around. Your mind began to float somewhere safer. Having stepped up to board the plane, you got a clear view of the press gathered around. Flashes of vultures picking at the carcass of a bear overwhelmed you. The rot. The smell. The crowd. Everything burst forth at once in a scream that didn’t register as having come from your body. Disoriented, you came to when Sabitha pulled you in, muttering something about fucking harpies and guiding you to sit. A dark shade was cast over the plane, and the uncomfortable silence never broke. Curling into the seat, your body pulled your legs to your chest while your mind drifted off somewhere else.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The house was as cold and dead as it always felt whenever you came home. You didn’t want to let the austere environment get you down though. The semester was finally over, and your backbreaking work had culminated in graduating Summa Cum Laude at Barth University in King’s Landing. You had a few weeks off before your summer internship started. Thousands of hours in the labs finally culminated in Professor Gerardys recommending you for a summer research internship studying extremophiles in Antarcticos before you started at King’s University in the fall. You couldn’t wait until you were gone, and you knew your husband would feel the same. If you could truly call him that. The only reason the two of you married was so you could become a Westerosi citizen. Aemond as awful as he was would be the key to your future. His closest concept to a love language was sending some expensive gift as an afterthought. No sentiment, of course. This time in particular was strange though. He offered to send you and 19 of your friends to one of his family’s estates in the Vale. The estate itself was stunning, nestled into the Mountains of the Moon overlooking green valleys. Something about all of it just didn’t sit right with you. Some nagging voice whispering about a danger you couldn’t quantify. You weren’t naive, you knew that he only wanted you out of the house so he could have his girlfriend over the entire time you were gone. At this point, you just could not bring yourself to care. You led your life, and he his. A notification pulled you out of your thoughts, and you set your stuff down to go greet your girlfriend. You met Emerson a few weeks before your arrangement with Aemond was put in place. You didn’t pursue anything with her at first, wanting to give your marriage a genuine shot. After it became clear Aemond barely recognized you as a person, you two got involved. Wrapping your arms around her willowy frame, you nuzzled your head into the soft curve of Em’s neck. “I’m going to miss you.” you mumbled, coming up on your tiptoes to press your body further into hers.

“I know lovey, ‘m going to miss you too. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the time off.” Emerson said, drawing a small circle on your shoulder blade with her thumb, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Don’t be.” you murmured. “You tried.” The two of you lingered in each other’s grip for a few moments more, basking in the familiarity before you headed to your room to pack for the trip.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond poured out a finger of hundred year-old bourbon. He casually sipped on it, silently musing about his upcoming vacation. He was still working as per usual, but you would finally be out of his fucking hair for once. It wasn’t enough for you to marry him for citizenship or live in his house, it seemed you also wanted to be his best friend and have fucking pillow fights. Though you stopped intentionally bothering him you still just couldn’t help but annoy him. From making your stupid little coffees every morning, to obnoxiously loud facetimes to friends back home, incessant piano playing, purposely walking around the house in a t-shirt and panties like it was the most casual thing in the world. Even his cranky old cat loved you, sleeping in your bed as soon as he left his. At least with you gone he could have some peace of mind to finally get all the employee reports in before the bonuses were decided. Aemond finished his bourbon, still sober but a little less tense. He locked up his office for the night, nodding a goodbye at his secretary before heading to his car. The drive home was long, and he bristled as his phone connected to the bluetooth. My Chemical Romance blasted over the boosted speakers and he switched the song as quickly as he could. He only listened to it because you couldn’t stop blasting Middle Schoolcore in the shower. He finally came to settle on Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Pulling into the driveway, Aemond grimaced. Emerson’s car. No doubt the two of you would be cloying and obnoxious, oblivious to how irritating your little Hallmark act was. He turned his car off, but sat for a few minutes longer. Worries about work pressed on him until he noticed a twinge in his hand. A cramp from gripping the steering wheel as hard as humanly possible. He relaxed his grip and stepped out of the car, his teeth clenched as he walked in. He followed his routine to a T, pausing in his office when he heard the two lovebirds warbling at each other.

“I don’t know Em. I was excited earlier but I’ve just been getting a really bad feeling you know? Like something really bad is going to happen. And you know the last time I-” Y/N’s voice cracked and he stepped closer to the door. His blood pressure rose as he stalked closer, trying to catch as much as he could through the distance.

“Y/N, it’s okay. If you want to cancel the trip then just tell Aemond.” Emerson’s voice rang out confidently. Aemond’s blood boiled. Of course your stupid fucking girlfriend was telling you to blow off the trip like she paid for the bookings.

“Yeah but you know how he is. Any time there’s a problem the world just stops spinning on its axis.” came the soft reply from Y/N. A sharp chuckle came a second later from his wife’s girlfriend. Aemond could practically see the wry grin splitting her face. Clenching his fist, he burst out of the office into the kitchen where the two of them were talking over a bowl of pineapple. He glanced over Emerson– the taller of the two women– disinterestedly to focus his singular gaze on his wife.

“What were you two talking about?” His voice cracked out sharply, he wanted to feign indifference but that ship sailed. He watched the panicked look spread across Y’N’s face, something predatory curling deep in his gut at the doe eyed look. Her mouth moved as if she was thinking of multiple different answers all at the same time. He watched expectantly as she blinked for a second. The silence weighed heavily until she softly spoke.

“I don’t think I want to go to the Eyrie anymore.” Her tone wavered slightly at the end, clearly stumbling to find her nerve. Before he could interject her girlfriend piped up.

“Trip’s off.” Emerson’s tone was far more sure, and she locked her hazel eyes onto Aemond’s and set her jaw stubbornly. Y/N fidgeted with her hands lightly, looking not at all surprised when a low laugh erupts from Aemond.

“Everything is booked, and we can’t get our deposit back. You’re going.” The words hung in the air with a finality he thought was clear. Apparently the tone kicked something into gear, amusement bubbled up at the sneer pulling across your cute little face. This was going to be adorable.

“You could cancel and pay for this trip five times over and still not noti-” He refused to let you finish, putting up a hand as if shushing a noisy toddler.

“Why exactly?” He questioned, pulling his hands to clasp each other behind his back. He took half a step towards Y/N, relishing in the way she took half a step back. He watched Y/N’s face stiffen, before she lowered her gaze.

“I just have a really bad feel-” Again cutting her off, Aemond laughed. Relishing how small she looked after he started, he put up his hand again.

“So you want to cancel a trip I have spent thousands on because of a bad feeling.” He spat each word out with more venom than the last, before he spared a second glance to his wife, watching resignation fall over her face.

“Good talk.” You mumbled, keeping your head down and quickly exiting the kitchen. Aemond went to the bowl of pineapple and popped a piece in his mouth, chewing it while maintaining eye contact with Emerson who stood there a second longer. He didn’t need the last word, he had already won. Eventually she rolled her eyes and walked off too, muttering something to herself. Aemond simply grabbed the pineapple and returned to his office. He had work to do.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Three years after her disappearance, two fishermen spotted her body floating on Lake Crescent. What they found was horrific. When taken to the medical examiner her flesh sloughed off in the same way Ivory soap woul-’

“Okay I know it’s literally in the name but this is getting pretty morbid.” You chimed, loading the last of your toiletries into your bag. Flipping the lid over, Emerson followed your silent cue and pressed down on the top of it while you zipped it shut.

“What’s morbid is you packing enough clothes for a month.” Emerson teased, tracing her fingers up your waist lightly enough to almost tickle. “Seriously, are you planning on pissing yourself repeatedly every day you’re there?” Digging her fingers into your flesh lightly, she pulled you in. You relished the feeling of her slender arms around you, and the cascade of her chestnut hair over them. “I know you’re nervous about this, but try to have as much fun as you can. If nothing else to spite Prince Zuko.” You couldn’t contain the laugh that rang out of you at that, you knew it was below the belt but you couldn’t help but lean into it just a little.

Covering your left eye you summoned the most grave expression you could muster. “I must capture the CEO position of Targaryen Tech to restore my honor.” You grumbled out as best you could, quickly giving way to giggles. “God how did we never see that until now?” You questioned, leaning your head back against Em as she kissed your forehead.

“Well, inspiration only strikes around my muse I guess.” She quipped, pulling you in tighter before you sighed. You wanted to stay in her arms like this, softly rocking back and forth to a rhythm that wasn’t playing in your bedroom forever. The pit of dread in your stomach only grew, and you squeezed the arm she held across your chest gently. Picking up on the cue, Emerson dropped her hand and turned to face you full on. Grasping your face in both her hands, she pressed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. “I love you.” She whispered quietly, pressing her lips to yours for a sweet few seconds. “I found a website that lets me track your flight as it's happening. I know you probably won’t have wifi..” She trailed off. You smiled softly, leaning your cheek into her right hand.

“You’re the prettiest stalker I could ever hope to have.” You teased, watching Emerson fluster for a second before the realization that you were fucking with her dawned. You two finally split apart. The ride to the airport was quiet. The two of you kissed in the car before she helped take your suitcase and carry on out of the trunk. “Bringing bricks along to your mountain getaway.” She grumbled as the suitcase landed with a heavy thud. The tech who took your bags at the gate didn’t flinch at the weight. You took that as a silent victory over Emerson and boarded the plane, the gnawing fear taking deeper root in your gut. You sat near the middle of the plane at an aisle seat, you couldn’t explain why but something told you that you had to sit there. Suddenly aware that you probably look weird, you lock eyes with Sara and let out a relieved sigh. Before you could greet her, the blonde piped up.

“Your husband set all of this up?” She asked, gesturing to the rest of the cabin with a bewildered expression. When you nodded she whistled and let out a teasing “Thank you Mr. Targaryen.” She was quick to follow it up with “Does he have any brothers?” you held back a laugh at that. She and Aegon had been dating on and off for a few years now.

“It’s pretty much the only nice thing he’s done since we got married. I can definitely hook you up with his brother though.” Venting about Aemond felt freeing. Venting about Aemond on a plane that he was paying for was fucking cathartic.

“Strictly dickly, no dice.” Sara replied teasingly, her face contorting in an exaggerated frown.

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition.” You shot back, knowing that Sara wasn’t the type to take it to heart. She laughed again before awareness slowly crept across her face, by now she had to feel the anxiety radiating off of you. The others in the group had already started to pour into the plane. Most of your friends were already there, along with Baela’s creepy little sister and your in-laws. Jacaerys and Lucerys were both nice enough, Jace a bit reactive but not unkind. When they heard of the trip they had asked if they could join, and Aemond looked furious at the thought of them coming so naturally you extended an invitation.

“Nervous flier?” She asked, her brow softening as you paused for a second. “Here.” she said, grabbing your hand and dropping a small white tablet into it before you could give her an answer. “I swiped it from my Mom’s medicine cabinet. She has like a million,” Sara paused to shake her head, shifting her gaze from yours. “She won’t even notice it.” You nodded at her, understanding the full implication.

“My Mom is the same way.” You reassured her. Grabbing a water bottle and downing the pill you grimaced for a moment at the bitter taste.

“Almond mom?” You laughed sharply, nodding heartily as you passed her the water bottle. Sara popped the pill in her mouth before unscrewing the lid and downing some water with the pill.

“Oh my god yeah, always announcing to the world that she only sniffed half of a string cheese for breakfast.” Your eyes involuntarily rolled at the memory. Sara was one of few people who could make anything better with a little smalltalk. The valium certainly didn’t hurt either. Eventually the chatter dies down between the two of you, and you both sleep deeply in your respective aisle seats.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the chat bubble popped up in the upper-right corner of his computer for the third time, Aemond started to grind his teeth.

‘this is important jackass’

‘its emerson’

‘theres something wrong with the flight’

Aemond exhaled sharply, taking a sip of black coffee and failing to hide his annoyance at the messages. He kept working, it was just like her to be dramatic about nothing. He didn’t have time to deal with her theatrics. Aemond left his phone on his desk and went to his morning meetings. They droned on, and the more his half-sister spouted off business terms she didn’t fully understand the more his mind wandered to Y/N. Had he been too harsh in his dismissal? Did it even matter? You weren’t actually his wife. The only thing that connected the two of you was a legal agreement. Why should he spare your feelings when you weren’t even his? You didn’t even acknowledge him these days. His knuckles ached as he released a fist he kept clenched under the table. Flexing his hand he chimed in when appropriate, relaying the quarterly metrics. After the meetings finished he returned to his office, placing his fresh cup of coffee on his desk and grimacing at the notifications on his phone. As if she could sense his avoidance, that was the exact moment the call bubble popped up. Pressing accept, Aemond couldn’t even get his one-liner out before he heard Emerson’s panicked voice.

“They’re too far north!” Aemond paused in place for a second, awkwardly hovering over his desk, he never heard Emerson use anything less than a disdainful tone with him. He felt genuinely taken aback. “Did you hear me?” She demanded impatiently. There it is.

“They’re too far north.” He repeated dispassionately, taking a purposely loud slurp of coffee.

“Gods you’re so fucking.” Aemond smirked, practically hearing Emerson grind her teeth. If nothing else could be accomplished with this phone call at least he could make her day that much worse. You were fine, and that she was just pushing her drama off onto you again. He would wager she was the culprit behind your bad feeling at the very last moment. You needed somebody who wasn’t so tightly wound. Not like her. “200 fucking miles too far north Aemond!” The worry in her voice started to seep into him, before he shut it back out promptly. Now she was pushing her drama onto him.

“I’m sure it’s just a refueling issue or something.” He mused, his tone flat. This was apparently not good enough of an answer since Emerson let out an exasperated huff.

“So why would they be flying over fucking White Harbor when there’s a massive fucking airport in the Eyrie?? Seven hells use your fucking head something is wrong here.” Aemond found himself taking another sip of coffee, this one more of an act of discomfort than mockery. “You chartered the plane. Just call the fucking airline and see if they can get in touch with the pilots or something. If I turn out to be wrong you can make fun of me for it until the end of time. Just fucking call.” Aemond exhaled heavily, trying his best to convey annoyance. Suddenly glad for the barrier created by the cell phone, he kept his tone disinterested.

“If I get around to it.” Aemond clicked the end call button before Emerson could debate further. His hands ached, and he reached into his desk to grab a small remote. Pressing a button, a few of the windows in his office glided open. Placing the remote back and grabbing his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Aemond leaned against the windowsill. Inhaling and savoring the sweet sweet taste of future cancer, he breathed it all out into the streets of King’s Landing. The cigarette helped let off some of the tension, but he mentally cursed Emerson for the worry she instilled in him. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he texted Alys.

‘1845. My place.’

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You dreamt of Aemond. You hated it, but you did. Ignoring him gave you a sense of control, but it also stoked the lingering worry that you did it because you didn’t want him to leave you alone. He was yelling again, while you cried tears that grew into little bundles of holly. Aemond grew angrier, shaking you half feral. Suddenly his body pressed upon you so hard you wheezed, an aching in your head as you felt your eyeballs press into your skull. You felt like bricks were being piled atop you for a few more agonizing moments before you inhaled sharply, your mind starting to waver in and out of consciousness. His eye locked onto yours, and he lifted the eyepatch above his missing left eye to reveal a triangular symbol. You started to register a rattling noise, and Aemond shook you harder, yelling about how you no longer belonged. You wavered between your conversation and bleary eyesight. Displeased at this, your husband gripped you as tightly as he could, his arms placing a crushing weight on your waist.

“If you won’t listen.” He said, his violet eye blazing as he moved to grab your face. In his other hand he held a gag, and you resisted as much as you could. Finding yourself unable to speak or move, you mumbled “Get off.” weak as a kitten. Aemond didn’t relent, placing the muzzle on you.

When the cold plastic finally sat against your face you came to. The rattling noise from your dream grew to a deafening roar, and the warning bells started to flare in your drug-addled brain. Your father was a test pilot for the Lysene Navy and had taken you flying in his Cessna whenever he was stateside. The rocking of loose baggage against the overhead containers was too hard, and the dips of the plane too steep. Klaxons sounded and you foggily tried to recall what the individual sounds meant. The nose. As if on cue, your blurry line of sight dipped about 20 degrees and up even more. Somebody behind you screamed at the last dip. You watched as the figure you hazily recognized as Laenor Velaryon held on to the seat ahead of him as best he could. He snapped a mask over the sleeping Floris, grabbed ahold of the armrest and tried to propel himself back into the aisle. That was the exact moment that your line of sight tips back up, before dipping back down again at a steep enough angle that it sent your eyes painfully digging into the sockets again. Your eyesight blurred once more, only to clear just in time to see the drink cart slam against the emergency exit. A grinding noise soon echoed in your ears as the upper left wall of the plane tore open and off. The wind howled and tore at any exposed skin it could. You could only watch in dazed horror as Laenor was sucked out of the plane to wherever he would land. Your senses started to return to you as adrenaline kicked in. Making a conscious move to control your breath, you tried to remember everything your father had told you. When the pressure weighing on your chest abated enough that you could move, you raised the shade of the window to look out. Your throat dried instantly as you saw the tops of pine trees scraping against the wings of the plane. The terror at the realization that you had slept through most of this crash was quickly dawning on you, as was the realization that the plane was still coming down too fast. As the screeching engine rocked you to the point of vertigo, you remembered your father’s words.

‘Put your mask on. Stay calm. Cover your head and lean forward.’ You obeyed his commands, trying to fight off the last of the valium lingering in your mind. You knew you needed to remember everything he had told you. Your fingers dug into the nape of your neck hard enough to break the skin. You shut out the panicked sounds of screams around you. As the sensation of pain registered, one last thought came before blackness enveloped you.

It’s been waiting for us.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #hotd x reader #aemond fic #hotd imagine #aemond x reader

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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Mardi Gras Mayhem Chapter 6: Rashad

Series: Mardi Gras Mayhem (click the link to read each one in order!)

Fandom: TRR

Pairings: none, this is a guy’s weekend

Summary: The TRR lads celebrate Maxwell’s 21st birthday in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Synopsis: A case of mistaken identity plagues Rashad.

Word Count: 975

Rating: MA

Warning: language

This is part of a collaboration written for @choicesprompts March 2023 prompt.

“Well, there’s no way we’re getting back on the other side of the street anytime soon,” Leo observed, “So we might as well make the most of it!”

Rashad opened his mouth to reply, but before he got the chance, unseen hands grabbed him, and an unfamiliar voice called out, “Hey, Ricky! What the fuck are you doing off the float?”

Rashad found himself jerked from the ground and dragged onto a moving platform covered in an explosion of gold, green and purple flowers, streamers, and ribbons. A statue of Bacchus graced the center of the float.

“What is happening?” He yelped.

The float was filled with people all wearing identical costumes, inexplicably the exact same outfit he was wearing!

So much for Max’s promise of originality.

“I got these t-shirts for everyone!” Max was brimming with excitement as he passed them out. They were all emblazoned with individual slogans.

“Max, I am not wearing a shirt that says “It ain’t gonna suck itself! That…that’s vulgar!”

“It’s talking about the crawfish! I looked them up! They’re a type of crustation! Like a small lobster-“

“I know what a crawfish is, Max! That’s hardly the point!”

“It’s fine,” Max waved a hand dismissively in the air, “No one will see it anyway because of the suit.”

“I know you! You’re Chowder’s friend Ricky!” A woman with a Cajun accent greeted him, “Thanks for filling in at the last minute!”

“No…I…uh…”

The float lurched to a stop. The woman shoved a bucket of beads in his hands, “Toss those out to the crowd!”

“But I’m not-“ The woman had already turned around and was tossing beads to the crowd on the other side of the float.

“Beads! Beads! Beads!” the crowd chanted.

“Come on, Ricky! Toss the damn beads!” The man who had hauled him onto the float yelled.

With a shrug, Rashad turned and leaned down and over the edge as he tossed the beads.

A woman that had to be three times his age lurched over the edge of the float and lunged for him, “You’re cute! Come to momma!”

“Oh! I…” he stumbled backward but not before her teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“Ow!” His head jerked back but then forward again as he realized pulling away was making the situation worse.

“Hey, Ricky, stop kissing the GILF and get back up here! We’re moving again!”

“Wha-?” he tried to yell, “No!”

The float rolled forward, his body moving with it. The woman stumbled along next to them, refusing to release his lips.

“We’ve got a clinger!” A voice yelled.

“On it!” A second voice replied. The woman that had handed him the bucket darted over to the edge of the float and spritzed the one attached to his lips with a super soaker.

“Hey!” The woman yelped, releasing Rashad’s lips as she stumbled back away from the edge of the float.

“Thanks!” Rashad rubbed his mouth tenderly.

“No problem, Ricky!” She slapped him on the back with a smile.

“I’m not-“

“Hey, Ricky!” The man who had pulled him onto the float called, “Welcome to the club! That happened to me about seven years back and the bitch pulled me all the way off! That’s why you never lean over the edge! And why Nancy there carries the water gun!”

“Good to know…” Rashad mumbled as he resumed tossing beads into the crowd.

“I’m Mike, you’ve met Nancy,” the man said, then pointed to the closest members of the krewe, “that’s Frank, Emerson, Blake, Tarren, and Gloria!”

“Nice to meet everyone,” Rashad responded politely, “But I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I’m not-“

He was cut off and drowned out as the band began to play again. He glanced around at his surroundings. The float he was on was moving, crowds pressed in from both sides, and there were no easy means of egress in sight.

Nancy pulled him to a giant chest filled with beads and other plastic trinkets and scooped a bucket full then handed it to him and pointed to Frank.

Rashad finally got the idea and spent the next hour alternating between tossing beads himself and filling and delivering buckets to the other members of the krewe.

He quickly settled into a system that kept everyone’s buckets full. He made polite chit-chat between band numbers and began to enjoy the act of tossing goodies into outstretched hands. It was amazing how happy people were to receive such little things.

“We’re almost at the end of the route!”

“Time to crown our king!”

“I vote for Ricky!”

“Yeah, he saved us from being short a man, nearly gotten eaten by a GILF, turned out to be a damn good bucket man, and has been an overall good sport about all of it!”

“Who votes for Ricky?”

Chants of “Ricky! Ricky! Ricky!” filled the air.

“Ricky it is! Get over here, Ricky!”

“Oh…ah..okay…” Rashad turned to Nancy, “What’s a GILF?”

She guffawed as she told him, “A grandmother I’d like to fuck!”

“Ohh…” he didn’t have time to react as he was pulled to the center of the float and an ornate plastic replica of the Imperial State Crown of England was placed on his head.

“All hail King Ricky!” A chorus of cheers broke out.

“Yay! King Ricky!”

“Long live King Ricky!”

“Ricky’s the man!”

The float came to a stop and Rashad scrambled off of it.

“Hey, Ricky!” Mike called, “Tell Chowder I said his ass better show up for the next PTA meeting!”

“Sure!” Rashad turned around, “Hey, which way is the Golden Lantern?”

“That way!” Mike pointed, “About six blocks up, then take a left and go four blocks over!”

“Thanks!” Rashad waved over his shoulder as he checked his watch. If he hurried, he’d make it just in time for Max’s birthday meetup.

#mardi gras #trr fanfiction #choicesprompts #choicesholidays #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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ceofjohnlennon · 2 years

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John Lennon and Yoko Ono with Gloria Emerson, 1969. ㅡ From the documentary "24 Hours: The World of John and Yoko".

#👁👄👁#john lennon #yoko ono #60s #1969 #john lennon gifs #yoko ono gifs #my:gifs #24 hours: john and yoko #john angry:

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 8 months

Note

🔁 gimme the list hand it over

putting it below the cut bc it's a lot! (this also isn't an exclusive list just the ideas that I've had so far!)

Malcolm

Descendants

Gabriel

Ace Hearts

Addie

Beatrice

Gloria Gothel

Hannah Westergaard

Princess Isabelle

Lovetta Garou

Lucette LeFou

Rosabelle Legume

Doctor Who

Malcolm McAllister

Abbey

Carys

Cassiopeia

Celeste

Ceridwen

Estella

Mina

Rusalia

Theia

Charles Pond

Celeste

Theia

Lottie Tyler

Estella

Theia

Gilmore Girls

Lydia

Annabel Gilmore

Antoinette Kensington

Dani Gilmore (Danes)

Lili Gilmore

Thomas Mayfair

Allie St James

Brady Mariano

Charlotte Howard-Danes

Eleanor Doose

Evan Mariano

Gabi Mariano

Jane Forester

Willow Dell (& the squad)

Glee

Ashton Daniels

Abbie Hudson

Betty Fabray

Cece & Colton Cartwright

Demi July

Dolly & Barbie Corcoran

Hillary Holliday

Jeremy St James

Jo Berry

Joy Schuester

Roxie Flores

Zeke Beiste

Claude Emerson just bc JATP

Lili Anderson

(tbh I feel like there’s more he’d vibe with but the majority of mine are s3 grads or s4 seniors so I’m not sure what the vibes would be)

Gossip Girl

Andrea Fitzpatrick

Carmela De Leon

Colette Garrel-Waldorf

Kyla Keller

Victoire DeHaan

Catalina Cabrera

Alessandra Vanderbilt

Alia Kelly

Erin Humphrey

Gavin Cohen

Autumn Ambrosia

Colette Garrel-Waldorf

Coco Bates

Haz Torres

Kyla Keller

Valentina Wolfe

Lorenzo Waters

Autumn Ambrosia

Carmela De Leon

Colette Garrel-Waldorf

Coco Bates

Haz Torres

Kyla Keller

McKenzie Menzies

Mercedes Delgado

Paris Rothschild

Valentina Wolfe

Matthew Porter

Autumn Ambrosia

Cecily Vanderbilt

Colette Garrel-Waldorf

Coco Bates

Haz Torres

Kyla Keller (kyla keller kyla keller)

Mercedes Delgado

Valentina Wolfe

Victoire DeHaan

JATP

Anastasia Donahue

Jemma Danforth-Evans

Leo Beckett

Nevaeh Wilson

Conrad Brooks

Cullen Strode

Leo Beckett

Megara Monroe

Nevaeh Wilson

Luka Barbero

Cullen Strode

Leo Beckett

Megara Monroe

Nevaeh Wilson

PJO

Chloe Brown

Liz Castellan

Summer Sol

Blake Castellan

Elaine & Felicity Castellan

Jem Skeates

Cressida Brantley

Esmerelda Wilde

Elyana Chase

Riverdale

Atticus Bardot

Doria Mary Wallis

Maisie Maiden

Derek Wallis

Ariel Blossom

Doria Mary Wallis

Presley Palmer

Rose Blossom

Rosebud Reynolds

Schmigadoon

Audrey

Ricky Skinner

Greyson

Birdie McDonough

Dottie McDonough

Robin

Dottie McDonough

Ricky Skinner

#ask #answered #manyfandomocs

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metaphrasis · 2 years

Note

Any books and essays you’d recommend?

Fiction:

(Ideal for the darker, colder months)

Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde

Dracula, Bram Stoker

Steppenwolf and Demian, Hermann Hesse

Just Kids, Patti Smith

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

Death & the Dervish, Meša Selimović

Macbeth, Shakespeare

Essays:

On language:

Nobel Lecture (1993), Toni Morrison

How Words Fail, Cathy Park Hong

Politics and the English Language, George Orwell

Of Strangeness That Wakes Us, Ilya Kaminsky

The Meanings of a Word, Gloria Naylor

Mother Tongue, Yoojin Grace Wuertz

Borrowing a Simile, Walt Whitman

Word Order, Lewis H. Lapham

Four Essays, Mikhail Bakhtin

Nature: Chapter IV Language, Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Strange Persistence of First Languages, Julie Sedivy

What Do You Lose When You Lose Your Language? Joshua Fishman

Here is a list of essays on translation I have recommended on a former blog

Other:

A Defence of Poetry, Percy Bysshe Shelley

Art Objects, Jeanette Winterson

Preface to the History of The Renaissance, Walter Pater

The Laugh of the Medusa, Helene Cixous

Ways of Seeing, John Berger

The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Walter Benjamin

Portraits: John Berger on Artists, John Berger

Pictures & Tears: A History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings, James Elkins

Resources for essays: Lapham’s Quarterly, The Paris Review, Poetry Foundation

#personal

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x-heesy · 2 years

Text

𝗙𝝠𝗡𝗖𝗬 𝝠𝗦 𝗣𝗛𝗨𝗖𝗞 ⭐️

The earth laughs in flowers.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

#flowerpower #floralporn #flora #blümchen #blümchenfürdich #sayitwithflowers #theearthlaughsinflowers #flowersforyou #thelittlethings #soulfood #heavenisaplaceonearth #heavenly #gardeneden #travelingwithoutmoving @shadowanndeath @gloria-glitter @frenchpsychiatrymuderedmycnut @boanerges20 @derflaneur #diekleinendingeimleben #aesthetic #gardenstories #naturecore #flowercore

#xheesy #wien #balconia #balkonien #athmospheric #popart #artsyfartsy #myhoodisgood #musicandart #balconystories #balconyart #balconyshot #worldoffmusicon #ioswarriors #iphonography

Soundtrack: Fables & Fairytales - (Deniz Kurtel remix) by Na, Rosina, Deniz Kurtel

#thankslordfortechno

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theimpossiblescheme · 2 years

Photo

i was beautiful then - a playlist for grizabella (for @the-cat-at-the-theatre-door)

#Last but certainly not least... <3 #cats the musical #oldiesweek #grizabella #if music be the food of love play on

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televisinmundialbaloncesto · 2 months

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¿Cuáles son las clasificaciones de jugadores del Sparta Praga contra el Betis en la Europa League?

🎰🎲✨ ¡Obtén 500 euros y 200 giros gratis para jugar juegos de casino con solo un clic! ✨🎲🎰

¿Cuáles son las clasificaciones de jugadores del Sparta Praga contra el Betis en la Europa League?

Posiciones jugador Sparta Praga

Las posiciones en las que un jugador del Sparta Praga puede desempeñarse son clave para entender su papel en el equipo. Dependiendo de su habilidad, experiencia y preferencias, un jugador puede ocupar diversas posiciones en el campo de juego.

En primer lugar, tenemos a los delanteros, cuya función principal es marcar goles. Son jugadores rápidos, técnicos y con olfato goleador que buscan aprovechar cualquier oportunidad para convertir. En el Sparta Praga, los delanteros suelen ser la principal fuente de gol y son fundamentales para el éxito del equipo.

Por otro lado, encontramos a los mediocampistas, que son el motor del equipo. Los mediocampistas del Sparta Praga son conocidos por su habilidad para recuperar balones, distribuir el juego y generar oportunidades de gol. Pueden ser mediocampistas defensivos, encargados de cortar el juego rival, o mediocampistas ofensivos, encargados de crear juego y dar asistencias a los delanteros.

Finalmente, los defensores son fundamentales para mantener la solidez defensiva del equipo. Los defensores del Sparta Praga son jugadores fuertes, veloces y disciplinados que se encargan de proteger la portería y evitar que el rival marque goles. Pueden ser defensores centrales, laterales o incluso carrileros, dependiendo de la estrategia del entrenador.

En resumen, las posiciones de un jugador del Sparta Praga son fundamentales para el funcionamiento del equipo y cada posición cumple un rol único y esencial en la búsqueda de la victoria.

Categorías jugador Betis

En el mundo del fútbol, los jugadores del Real Betis Balompié se han destacado a lo largo de los años en diversas categorías que los han posicionado como referentes en el ámbito deportivo.

Una de las categorías más destacadas es la de los goleadores, donde jugadores como Rubén Castro, Joaquín y Loren Morón han dejado su huella con increíbles goles que han emocionado a los aficionados béticos. Estos jugadores han demostrado su calidad en el área rival y su capacidad para definir con gran precisión.

Otra categoría importante es la de los defensores, donde jugadores como Aissa Mandi, Marc Bartra y Emerson han sido piezas fundamentales en la zaga del equipo verdiblanco. Su solidez defensiva y su capacidad para anticiparse a las jugadas del rival los han convertido en pilares en la parcela defensiva del Betis.

Además, la categoría de centrocampistas también ha tenido grandes exponentes en el Betis, como Sergio Canales, Nabil Fekir y William Carvalho, quienes destacan por su visión de juego, técnica y capacidad para recuperar balones en el centro del campo.

En resumen, las categorías de jugador en el Real Betis abarcan distintas posiciones en el campo, donde cada futbolista aporta su talento y habilidades para llevar al equipo hacia la victoria y dejar en alto el nombre de la institución verdiblanca.

Rendimiento futbolístico Europa League

La Europa League es una de las competiciones de clubes más prestigiosas en el fútbol europeo, y cada temporada equipos de toda Europa compiten por alcanzar la gloria en este torneo. El rendimiento futbolístico en la Europa League es crucial para los equipos y jugadores que participan, ya que puede significar el éxito o el fracaso de una temporada.

Los aficionados al fútbol siguen con entusiasmo cada partido de la Europa League, ya que se enfrentan equipos de diferentes ligas y países, lo que hace que la competición sea aún más emocionante. Los equipos que logran destacar en la Europa League suelen ser aquellos con una gran calidad técnica y táctica, además de una fuerte mentalidad competitiva.

El rendimiento de los equipos en la Europa League puede influir en su desempeño en sus ligas nacionales y en otras competiciones, ya que el impulso obtenido de un buen desempeño en Europa puede llevar a resultados positivos en otros frentes. Además, el éxito en la Europa League a menudo proporciona a los equipos la oportunidad de clasificarse para la prestigiosa Liga de Campeones de la UEFA en la siguiente temporada.

En resumen, el rendimiento futbolístico en la Europa League es un tema de gran importancia para los equipos, jugadores y aficionados, ya que puede marcar la diferencia entre la gloria y la decepción en el mundo del fútbol europeo.

Habilidades futbolistas Sparta Praga vs Betis

Las habilidades de los futbolistas del Sparta Praga y el Betis son un espectáculo para los aficionados al fútbol en todo el mundo. Ambos equipos cuentan con jugadores talentosos y habilidosos que destacan en el campo de juego.

En el Sparta Praga, podemos destacar la destreza y rapidez de sus delanteros para desmarcarse y definir frente al arco rival. Sus centrocampistas son hábiles en el control del balón y en la distribución del juego, creando oportunidades de gol para sus compañeros. La defensa del Sparta Praga se caracteriza por su solidez y determinación en cada disputa de balón.

Por otro lado, el Betis se destaca por el juego asociativo y la creatividad de sus mediocampistas. Sus habilidosos extremos desequilibran las defensas rivales con regates y centros precisos. La defensa del Betis es conocida por su capacidad para anticipar las jugadas de peligro y cortar los ataques rivales de manera efectiva.

En un encuentro entre el Sparta Praga y el Betis, podemos esperar un partido emocionante y lleno de jugadas espectaculares. Ambos equipos tienen un alto nivel de competencia y están dispuestos a dejarlo todo en el campo para lograr la victoria. Los aficionados al fútbol disfrutarán de la calidad técnica y la pasión de estos dos equipos en cada enfrentamiento.

Estadísticas jugadores encuentro Europa League

La Europa League es una competición de fútbol muy popular que reúne a equipos de diferentes países europeos en intensos enfrentamientos. En cada encuentro, los jugadores demuestran sus habilidades y talento en el terreno de juego, dejando todo por conseguir la victoria para su equipo.

Las estadísticas de los jugadores en los encuentros de la Europa League son un reflejo de su desempeño y contribución al juego. Datos como goles marcados, asistencias, pases completados, intercepciones, faltas cometidas y tarjetas recibidas proporcionan una visión detallada de la participación de cada futbolista en el partido.

Es importante analizar estas estadísticas para evaluar el rendimiento individual de los jugadores, así como su impacto en el resultado final del encuentro. Los goleadores destacados, los asistentes clave, los defensores sólidos y los centrocampistas creativos son fundamentales para el éxito de cualquier equipo en la Europa League.

Además, las estadísticas de los jugadores en la Europa League también sirven para comparar su desempeño con el de otros futbolistas, tanto de su propio equipo como de los rivales. Esto permite identificar fortalezas y áreas de mejora, tanto a nivel individual como colectivo, para trabajar en el desarrollo y la estrategia de juego.

En resumen, las estadísticas de los jugadores en los encuentros de la Europa League ofrecen una visión detallada y objetiva de su rendimiento sobre el terreno de juego, siendo una herramienta fundamental para analizar y mejorar el juego futbolístico en esta apasionante competición europea.

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cinquecolonnemagazine · 5 months

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Gruppi musicali anni 70: un decennio di rivoluzione

Gli anni 70 sono stati un decennio di grande fermento musicale, caratterizzato da una profonda rivoluzione dei generi e dei suoni con dei gruppi musicali entrati nella leggenda. In questo periodo, si affermarono nuovi movimenti musicali, come il rock progressivo, il punk rock e la disco music, che ebbero un impatto duraturo sulla musica popolare. Il rock progressivo Il rock progressivo è un genere musicale che si sviluppa a partire dal rock psichedelico degli anni 60. Si caratterizza per la complessità delle strutture musicali, l'uso di strumenti esotici e l'attenzione alla sperimentazione. Tra i gruppi di rock progressivo più importanti degli anni 70 si possono ricordare: - Pink Floyd - Genesis - Yes - King Crimson - Emerson, Lake & Palmer Il punk rock Il punk rock è un genere musicale che nasce in Inghilterra alla fine degli anni 60 come reazione al rock progressivo e al pop mainstream. Si caratterizza per la semplicità delle strutture musicali, il rifiuto delle convenzioni e l'atteggiamento provocatorio. Tra i gruppi di punk rock più importanti degli anni 70 si possono ricordare: - Sex Pistols - The Clash - Ramones - The Damned - The Buzzcocks La disco music La disco music è un genere musicale che nasce negli Stati Uniti alla fine degli anni 60. Si caratterizza per i ritmi ballabili, le melodie orecchiabili e le atmosfere sensuali. Tra i gruppi di disco music più importanti degli anni 70 si possono ricordare: - Bee Gees - Donna Summer - Gloria Gaynor - Chic - KC and the Sunshine Band Altri generi musicali Oltre al rock progressivo, al punk rock e alla disco music, gli anni 70 furono anche un periodo di grande fermento per altri generi musicali, come il soul, il funk, il jazz, il country e il folk. Tra i gruppi musicali più importanti di questi generi si possono ricordare: - Stevie Wonder - Marvin Gaye - Aretha Franklin - James Brown - Earth, Wind & Fire - Miles Davis - John Coltrane - The Allman Brothers Band - The Grateful Dead - Bob Dylan L'impatto dei gruppi musicali anni 70 sulla musica popolare I gruppi musicali degli anni 70 hanno avuto un impatto duraturo sulla musica popolare. I loro generi e suoni hanno continuato a influenzare la musica di generazioni successive, fino ad oggi. I gruppi di rock progressivo hanno contribuito a portare la musica rock a nuovi livelli di complessità e sperimentazione. Gruppi di punk rock hanno rivoluzionato il modo di fare musica, portando un nuovo senso di energia e ribellione. I gruppi di disco music hanno diffuso la musica dance in tutto il mondo. L'impatto della musica degli anni 70 è ancora oggi evidente nella musica popolare. I suoi generi e suoni continuano a ispirare artisti di tutto il mondo. Foto di Pexels da Pixabay Read the full article

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aemondslefteyeball · 11 months

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Sic Transit Gloria Mundi (3)

Part 1 Part 2

[Modern!Aemond x Fem!reader]

[Warnings: Memorial service, death, human remains, child remains, substance use, reference to death by suicide]

[Summary: Garden party around the graveyard y'all]

(Hey guys! So I'm still figuring out a good pace to release this fanfiction. I'll probably stick to 2 chapters a week for now, but that could definitely change because I start a summer chem class soon yayyyyyy)

Word Count: 5.5K

Chapter 3

The sun shone through the dappled canopy, and the breeze was sweet as a kiss. It seemed an insult, you thought, that the world would look so beautiful on a day grim as this one. Sabitha pushed the sheet of metal into the soil with a sniffle, before standing and rejoining the circle gathered around.

“Before we took off I heard Tanselle say that she was going to see Kim Petrys at the Oldstones next month,” You reached out to grip Baela’s hand, squeezing it as Sabitha spoke, her voice steady. “She was really excited. But she’s never gonna hear ‘Unholy’ again.”

“Let’s join hands. We’ll pray for them.” Barba spoke up suddenly, her voice firmer than its usual timbre. The entire camp was somber, and you… well, you woke up feeling like you survived a plane crash. You were almost out of the woods, the rescue team would no doubt be here later in the day and the group would figure out exactly where to go from there.

“Rohanne, you just started working in the labs a few months ago,” Barba said, as you squeezed Baela’s hand. It suddenly dawned on you how little you knew about some of these people. Upon finding out the plane seated twenty you had scrambled to fill the remaining fourteen seats. Inviting guests to bring a guest of their own, you figured that it would be a good opportunity for you to make new friends. Suddenly you were pulled out of your thoughts, “So we didn’t really know you.” Barba said, her voice wavering.

“But in the lab, you never confused your Staphylococcus aureus and your Staphylococcus epidermidis.” You could tell your thoughts were reflected by others, the collective regret. “You seemed really smart.” Barba finished.

“Anybody else?” It didn’t register as your own voice for a second, sounding detached. Foreign almost.

“I saw her carry a flute case once.” Sabitha sputtered out, tears following immediately after. Shooting a sympathetic glance her way, some relief rising as Luke whispered something that calmed her. You dropped Baela’s hand for a brief moment, shooting her a look that said don’t worry before you placed a hand gently on Jace’s shoulder, removing it quickly after he flinched.

“Old Gods and the new… and... Red God.” You didn’t miss Barba’s remark but didn’t worry about it. The worship of R’hllor was nigh unheard of in Westeros, and you knew it wasn’t from a place of malice. Besides, you were balls deep into the STEM field by now and had drifted from your religion. “Please accept Rohanne Westerling and Tanselle Yronwood into your arms. So that they may fill your kingdom with music” A fuse blew within you, and you gripped Baela’s hand harder. Unable to stop the tears that now flowed freely, you shook “Please accept Ser Laenor, and flight attendant Janys, pilot Robert, pilot Fred.” As the words flowed out. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” As soon as she started speaking, something came over Aly. Stepping back as if she had been electrocuted by Nettles’ and Myrielle’s hands. “I do not fear. The Gods are my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Gods are my strength.” Before Barba could finish, Aly swallowed hard.

“I’m going for a walk.” Stated sharply, her usual staccato returned to Alysanne for a brief moment. You thought about going after her, but knew she wanted solitude whenever she was like this.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of a chair pulling out had Aemond snapping his good eye to the source. Emerson sat on the chair, looking like a zombie. The expression on her face told Aemond her mood was much worse than her appearance could ever show. She regarded him with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, with a fury burning beneath it.

“You don’t seem very concerned about her disappearance.” Aemond visibly bristled at her words. She wasn’t the one who had spent all night speaking to rescuers and all this morning checking his phone every other minute to see if anything, anybody had answers for him. Even Twitter.

“I am.” He replied curtly, pouring his cup of coffee before he stood and watched the machine for a second. The kitchen felt strangely empty, and he realized it was missing the smell of your stupid coffee add-ons. “I spoke with rescuers well into the night.” As much ice as he could muster before fully awake was present, and he turned to watch that unidentified emotion shape into form.

“Did you plan this?” She asked, Aemond noting that her phone was turned to face down. A departure from her usual behavior. She’s recording this, he thought suddenly. He knew he was cold to Y/N, but this? He felt genuine shock at it, the notion that he could harm a hair on her sweet, annoying head appalling.

“No!” He yelled, perhaps the first time he had ever truly shown his full temper. An anger– sense of betrayal– arose within him as furiously as the weeks after he had lost his eye. “How could you say that?” He hoped she could feel the sincerity in his voice. Recording or not, there were some lines he would not cross. Not with innocent people, that was.

“I think you’re a fucking liar.” She spat, eyes alight with a rage that radiated off her in waves. “You could get rid of the green card wife you resented,” The venom was so thick Aemond could practically cut it “And the nephews you hated.” She finished. “You’re a fucking wife killer.” She said with a shake of her head and a tremor in her voice. Finishing what she clearly came to start, She grabbed her coat and slammed the door on her way out. Wife killer, he thought. The grip on his mug tightened until the handle shattered.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nettles sat back on the log, holding Laenor’s foldable knife in her hand. You wanted to forget about looting the bodies of the dead. Happy to bury it with the memories of emergency water rafts uninflated and tossed over the corpses they couldn’t get out of the plane. They deserve better. A beautiful gravestone with a long life engraved into it. Instead it would say 2001-2023. Or 2002. You didn’t even know the birthdays of people that died because of your stupid vacation to the Eyrie. It’s my fault. You realized with a swallow, and palms that were suddenly sweaty. You all went around the campfire, had a little kumbaya moment, and talked about how you all crashed the plane. But these people… their parents would only ever have a body returned to them. Myrielle seemed to notice your change in expression, and reached a hand out to gently nudge you. “You okay?” She questioned, her hand squeezing your arm gently before rubbing it up and down. You met her gaze and nodded. Everybody here only had each other to rely on. We all need each other, I can’t waste time wallowing in self pity. You knew they would hate you when you were all rescued though, and that was okay. Because you would too.

“This is all we have?” Nettles asked, a worried look on her face. A scanty pile of Swiss Rolls and other empty calories laid in front of the girls.

“Yeah, we got to ration.” You answered. All the suitcases that could be salvaged had been stripped bare of anything useful.

“Okay.” Floris nodded, turning to Nettles. “Cut them.” She commanded, opening a package and handing it to Nettles before preparing another.

“Split this water.” Your voice sounded more sure now, and you were glad for it. They need you to at least pretend to keep your shit together. By tomorrow.

“Careful.” Nettles said, “Don’t spill any.” You nodded and angled the bottle so it poured slower. Jacaerys approached suddenly, perpetually walking like an ornery bull. He leaned down and grabbed two packages of Swiss rolls off the top before walking away.

“Dude!” Sabitha exclaimed. “Jace, what are you doing?” She asked, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“Uh, maybe you didn’t notice, but we’re kinda in a situation here Strong.” you quipped, rolling your eyes immediately after. You understood his pain– the loss of a parent– more than he knew, and you wondered if you were this awful to others after your father died. Surely I couldn’t have been, but you weren’t sure if you were asking or reassuring yourself.

Your best friend turned to you suddenly, a protective look on her face. “Don’t,” Baela warned, her expression grave.

“I guess it’s fine if we go hungry as long as Jace’s feelings are okay.” You shot back before you could think. You felt for him, you really did. But you would all have time to grieve in a day when the rescue team got there.

“We’re not gonna starve to death,” Sara interjected, and with a sudden burst of annoyance, you hadn’t gotten from her before. “When the rescue team gets he-”

“If it gets here.” Sabitha quipped, her tone flat. Distant.

Sara’s expression changed, concern falling over her face. “Don’t say that.” Her tone was calm, reassuring. You loved that about Sara, no matter how shitty you felt about your classes or workload she was there, perpetually optimistic.

“Sara’s right,” Baela spoke, diffusing the staredown occurring between Sabitha and Sara. “There were way too many white people on that plane for them to not immediately notice.” She joked. Laughs rang out around the group, Nettles slapping Myrielle’s arm as she giggled.

“Mr. President.” Nettles put on a serious facade, pantomiming and pressing an earpiece as she sat rigidly. “A plane carrying a bunch of rich white people crashed. Send the entire army right now!” She yelled out, voice raising to desolate treetops.

“Where do you think we are?” Rhaena piped up suddenly. “Like, Winterfell maybe?” She explained, gesticulating as she did it. “Maybe that’s why it’s taking them a few days to find us.” Continued her voice, as you nodded in agreement.

“There’s only pines as far as I can see.” You once again lamented the loss of Tanselle. She was a full-blown plant mom and would talk your head off about Monsteras at any opportunity given. You knew that if she was here she would be prattling off about how some of them were other types of trees you wouldn’t remember the names of thirty minutes later. “The soil is rocky. We’re in taiga, it has to be north of Winterfell.” Suddenly aware you were rambling the way Tanselle would, you got to the point. “I think we’re in the Northern Mountains.” You said finally. Multiple pairs of eyes looked out at the rolling forests. The wind sang through the valleys.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wife Killer.

Wife killer.

Emerson’s words rang through Aemond’s head as he sat down. His Mother had hovered around him, offering the mango juice he liked as a child. He appreciated her concern, but the only thing he felt was anxiety as she flitted about him. Apparently, she hadn’t yet heard that Emerson made multiple tweets suggesting he had something to do with your disappearance. Not plainly enough that it could be labeled as libel though. He had told Helaena from the beginning that the marriage wasn’t real. As old as they got, his older sister had always been his closest confidante. And given her nature, she wouldn’t turn and run her mouth to the vipers in the family. Viserys knew as well, having orchestrated the match for an old friend’s kid. As far as his Mom knew, he was still in shock from the terrible disappearance of his dear wife. Aemond knew he shouldn’t have been shocked at his Viserys’ apparent disinterest in finding you, yet was shocked when it brought forth a rage so extreme he had to excuse himself to the restroom. There he stood now, in front of the mirror. Wife killer echoed through his thoughts on a Sisyphean loop. He wasn’t sure he entirely felt the accusation yet. He was still in dumbfounded shock that you were most likely gone. His fists squeezed until his knuckles turned white, and he braced himself on the counter. Turning the faucet on and briefly splashing his face, he stared into the mirror before wiping his face and leaving the bathroom.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys!” Aly yelled as loud as she could. “Guys. There’s a lake.” She said, panting. “There’s a lake.” You perked up, “I saw it from that hill.” Alysanne pointed back in the direction she came from before turning back to the group. “It looks about four or five miles away.” She concluded.

“Do you think we can hike it?” Floris spoke up, you nodding in agreement with her question and looking to Aly hopefully.

“It’s pretty rocky, but yeah.” Aly responded, placing her hands on her hips and looking to Sabitha for reassurance she quickly granted.

Sara stood up suddenly, a nervous smile pulled across her features. “Uh, we can’t.. We can’t just leave.” She asserted, while pulling her shoulders back with the confidence of a rooster.

“We’ve got two days of water, tops.” Came the rebuttal, Aly’s reply condescending. “And then what?” She asked, spreading her arms. “Just sit around and die?”

“What if the rescue team comes?” Sara asked, her tone letting more panic slip through.

“Do you think they’re taking their time on purpose?” Aly clipped, her tone conveying a sense of hopelessness that had begun to ooze through the camp. “It’s been three days.” She said with a pointed stare at Baela. “If they knew where we were they would be here already.” Silence dawned after Aly finished, and you looked down at the thin soil ahead of you, digging the toe of your combat boot into it.

Sara let it continue for another second, before raising her eyebrows. “You don’t know that,” Her voice almost came out as a coo. But the anxiety had already started to twist in your gut. Aly was right, and you all despaired knowing it.

“What do you think, Ser Criston?” Aly asked pointedly, her eyes fixed on Sara.

“I don’t,” Criston moved to grab the stump of his leg. “I don’t know.” He finally admitted. “Uh, I mean you’d have to leave me behind, I guess, but whatever.” He finished, a gloom cast over his handsome features.

“We could make you a stretcher.” You interjected. You weren’t handy, but Alysanne was starting her MS in Aerospace Engineering in the fall. Sabitha would return to her job as an environmental engineer after rescue. There was no doubt in your mind that the two were up to much more complex tasks than this.

Sara let out a laugh at your idea, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment. She hasn’t done anything to help rationing and now she’s going to act like the queen? You fiddled with the plastic friendship bracelet that sat on your left wrist.

“Seriously.” You argued. “If we take turns carrying it..”

You didn’t even get to finish before Sara cut you off, shaking her head “No!” She half-yelled. Where have I heard this before? “This.” She gestured to Aly, earning a heated glare from Sabitha. “This is bullshit. I say no. Okay?” she crossed her arms. “No way.”

“Let’s put it to a vote,” Aly stated, her eyes passing over the group while blatantly ignoring Sara. Her gaze landed on Sabitha for a brief second before a twitch of a smile came across her face. It’s good they have each other. A twinge of jealousy still ran through you, despite your overwhelming relief that Emerson’s asshole boss denied her PTO. He actually did her a really big favor. “All in favor of waiting here?” Sara immediately raised her hand, looking to Myrielle who hesitantly raised hers as well after the blonde’s gaze landed on her. Barba followed. No more hands raised. “All in favor of the lake?” Her hand was raised as she asked that, and Sabitha’s hand rose as soon as she finished the question. Jacaerys brought his hand up next, a tight expression pulled across his face. You raised your hand next, as did Baela’s. Rhaena, seeing her twin’s decision, voted in favor of the lake as well. Nettles and Luke followed her. You looked to Floris, who with a guilty expression, slowly raised her hand as well. You didn’t miss the look of betrayal on Sara’s face, astounded that her best friend would dare to have an opinion of her own. “Then it’s settled. Grab your shit.”

You helped Sabitha yank the compass out of the cockpit. Angling the ax so that it pointed away, the two of you wrenched on the metal before it came free with a grating sound that made your skin crawl. Floris’ tall frame finished the last letter of the message as you returned with the ax slung over your shoulder. You backed up a few feet and looked at it. ‘SOS GONE TO LAKE’, it read. You hoped the lipstick would hold up to the elements. Sabitha and Aly led the way, and the rest of you followed, seemingly swatting mosquitoes off yourself every five fucking seconds. I’m not gonna miss this, you thought with another slap that resulted in a blood-laden mosquito popping over your forearm.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You know most people don’t believe it, right?” Helaena’s voice was as soft and dreamy as it always was. An almost ethereal edge to her every word. Aemond held his face in a grimace and said nothing in response. Helaena wouldn’t reach out to touch him, and he was glad for it. Every word, every gesture felt thousands of miles away from him. “Only conspiracy nuts think that you planned a plane crash that would include twenty people.” Insistence in her tone as she unsuccessfully attempted to make eye contact with him. “Or killed Y/N.” The weight of Aemond’s exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Especially since it yielded nothing. They hadn’t found you yet.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s that smell?” You immediately pinched your nostrils shut, trying to not reflexively gag from the stench of decomposition. “Holy shit.” The carcass of a bear lay there, trampled ferns underneath it. The skin was peeling back, and two vultures sat atop the oozing flesh, tearing off pieces with sharp beaks. Sharper eyes watched them as flies buzzed around the ruin. Various remarks came from the group, each one disgusted.

“What could have done that?” Floris piped up from behind you, her voice curious.

“A wolf, probably.” Ser Criston stated, dangling his arms over the side of the stretcher as if on a pool float.

“They can kill a fucking bear?” Baela turned around suddenly to face Cole, you following in tandem.

“Yeah.” Criston responded grimly. “Wolves can kill anything if the pack’s big enough.” You froze for a second, a sense of dread churning in your gut. Just like it had before the crash. You fiddled with your hands.

“Let’s keep moving.” Baela urged, growing tired of everybody rubbernecking the bear’s festering body.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond had always regarded food with something akin to annoyance. He had no issues with it in and of itself, he simply resented that he had to take the time out of his day to eat. It didn’t help that Helaena wasn’t a very good cook, but he supposed that was the result of growing up with staff to handle all that. Today was no different in regard to his feelings about food, but he made sure to take bites whenever his sister glanced at him. He thought she had gotten way too good at that, a silent command with just a look. Motherhood had done a number on his socially impaired sister. She looked as if she wanted to say something for a few minutes before she lifted her wine glass to her lips. Setting it down, she broke the silence.

“It’s okay if you’re upset that she’s missing.” His older sister offered him a reassuring smile. “I know you have Alys,” She continued, “But Y/N is still a part of your life.” She finished.

“Mmm.” Came his only response, sitting rigidly as the words bounced off him. “I’m fine.” He insisted coolly.

Helaena, whether emboldened by the wine or the circumstances, shook her head. “You’re not fine, Aemond.” The words came as gentle as a lamb. “I’ve known you since birth. I can see how not-fine you are.” His seat scraped across the floor as he stood up, quickly moving to exit the room. “She’s alive.” His sister blurted out, her tone sure. Aemond whipped around, furious. Now was not the time for his sister’s woo shit. “I’ve seen it.” She insisted, her face calm. Aemond let out a wry laugh and left the room.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This shit’s way longer than four miles,” Baela whined, gripping the handles of her rucksack. “What if we missed it?” She asked with a smirk.

“From the angle of the sun, it looked just left of due north.” Aly insisted, her tone revealing tiredness. Sara let out a wry chuckle in response to that.

“Oh, great!” She mocked, pantomiming confetti. “Left. That’s a precise way of doing it.” You felt annoyance stir in your gut. Sara could be pissy all she wanted but the group made a decision, and didn’t have time for her fits.

“I’m not a fucking cartographer.” Aly retorted, and you could hear the roll in her eyes.

“Or maybe you saw a mirage.” Sara insisted snidely. Seconds after Sara shot back, Sabitha gasped.

“Oh, shit.” She said, moving to gently hit Aly’s arm in excitement. “Oh shit!” She exclaimed. “Oh hell yeah, bitches!” A wide grin split her face, and she started to run toward whatever she had seen. As you followed in her footsteps, you breathed out a sigh of relief. The steely lake rocked gently at the shore, your salvation. You ran across the clearing as fast as your bruised and abused legs would carry you, stripping off your shirt in the process. Upon reaching the shore you removed your boots and shorts in quick succession, tossing them carelessly down at the lakefront before running in. “Guys come in!” Sabitha splashed around in the water, “It feels fucking great!” she insisted. The cold water lapped at your legs but you found it to be a welcome relief for your aching muscles.

“Well, at least we have a beach..” You remarked, ducking beneath the water before surfacing again. Exhaling the breath you held in, you leaned back, allowing yourself to float. The hot sun shone on all of you as you splashed each other. Games of chicken occurred, with you hopping on Floris’ shoulders and knocking Barba off Sabitha. You looked back to the shore, Jacaerys was undressing. Your gaze shifted to Aly, who stood with her hands on her hips and couldn’t look less disinterested in the man stripping before her. Her gaze landed across the water, and you followed it to Sabitha who she looked at with a beaming grin across her face. Baela and Jace splashed each other when he entered the water. You dove beneath the water and felt the closest thing to peace since the night before your trip. When you resurfaced, you flinched for a moment. A glare had obstructed your vision in the most uncomfortable way. Metal? Maybe a ranger station.

“Guys!” You yelled out, pointing in the direction of the glare. “Look!” You insisted, moving towards the shore to get out.

“What is that?” Sara asked, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare.

“It looks like a reflection.” You kept moving towards the shore with a hurried pace.

“Guys there’s something on the hill,” Sabitha’s voice boomed out. “Come on, let’s go!” She yelled. Tracking the source of the light proved to be harder until the dilapidated cabin came into view. As soon as it came into sight you reflexively crossed your arms over your chest, hairs prickling at the back of your neck. The inherent wrongness of the place shook you to the core, as did the eerie surroundings. You turned to survey the area around it and swallowed at the sight of that fucking symbol showing up again, carved into a tree. You hung back, uncrossing your arms to fiddle with the strap of your backpack. The rest of the group banged at the windows and doors, with combined shouts asking if anybody was there. When only silence answered, Sara and Floris pushed to open the door. A sense of foreboding entered you as you saw them enter the shack, shoving down your nerves before entering after them.

“-It reeks in here” Came Sara’s voice, with you wondering if she was going to do anything but complain since the group voted against her decision.

“Guys. Let’s check the pantry and see if there’s any food.” You spoke, turning to seek it out, Sara one step ahead of you. “Could somebody go around the cabin and get stuff we can use? Flashlights, first aid... You know.” You walked into the small space to see Sara grabbing a can and peeling back the tab.

“What the fuck Sara, that’s not your personal buffet.” You snapped, recoiling at the smell of the spoiled…whatever that was in the can.

Sara threw it down as if burned, cursed, and let out a huff in frustration. “See this is why we should’ve stayed in the plane!” She lashed out, and you steeled yourself in place as growing anger flared within you.

“Well, the group voted not to!” You hadn’t raised your voice in years but found a sudden catharsis in it. “So you need to find a way to fucking live with that.” You threw a hand up in exasperation, before waving it dismissively. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your tantrum with silly little concerns like our immediate survival.” A venom you didn’t recognize was laced into your tone, but it felt good to stand up to her. “And this is helping how, exactly?”

“This is a fucking nightmare.” Sara ran outside, sounding near tears over a can of spoiled milk. You shook your head in disbelief before walking to the living room.

“Well heelllooooo,” Sabitha exclaimed, slamming a pile on the creaky table. You grimaced at the dust it shook up before turning your gaze back to Sab. “Don’t worry guys. We might be stuck in the middle of nowhere. But, hey, at least there’s porn.” She said, smugly lifting a magazine with a busty brunette on the cover. You snickered under your breath as Sabitha opened the magazine and flipped through it. Choruses of anything from “sick” to “whoa” echoed out.

“Hey this guy kind of looks like you, Strong,” Myrielle spoke up, tilting the magazine so Jace could see it with a smirk on her face.

“If only any of you looked like her.” He retorted, his expression moody. You briefly wondered if you were sentenced to be surrounded by emotionally incompetent men as a lifelong purgatory.

“Okay, very funny,” Sabitha said defensively, with a roll of her eyes. “Do guys, like, actually jerk off to this stuff?” She said, waving it around like a wad of dirty paper towels.

“Nah, we hate that shit.” He answered with a sarcastic tone. “You know, you can’t even tell what her favorite book is.”

“Mmm. Ha ha.” Sabitha retorted with a roll of her eyes before following it with a middle finger. You stood around laughing at the bad porn with the group before the novelty wore off and you were once again uneasy. Leaving the cabin, you stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. That was where Aly found you a few hours later, worriedly scratching at your palms.

“Fuck’s your deal?” She questioned. “Come inside.”��

You shook your head, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I know it sounds crazy… I just have a bad feeling about this place.” You insisted as you pulled your arms tighter across your chest.

“Well, yeah, because it stinks. And there are spiders that could eat your face.” Aly mused. “But hey, after that bear we saw today I’m not gonna let you sleep out here, okay?” You remained where you stood, and annoyance flicked across her face. “Are you kidding me? ‘A bad feeling’? I don’t believe in that shit, and you’re not going to either. Okay? So get your ass inside.” She moved to grab you by the arm, half leading and half pulling you into the cabin.

Hours after everyone had gone to sleep, you stayed up. Despite your exhaustion, sleep could not find you. Your body simply refused to rest. You made your way to the attic, stepping as gingerly as you could. Making note of which boards creaked, you popped open the door and entered to confirm your fears. It still didn’t brace you for the skeletal state of the man in the chair. Your gaze lowered to the rifle that rested against his pelvis. The top of his skull blown off. That ended up being the least horrifying thing you found. Laid at the center of the massive symbol carved into the floor, two small skeletons sat precariously. You let out a gasp in shock and scrambled to the opposite corner. You sat and stared at the tiny skeletons just feet away from the man’s. That was where Aly found you for the second time that night. Her brown eyes met yours, and you stared blankly ahead of you. “Y/N?”

“I told you.” You whispered, as she turned her head to the macabre scene and cried out. The moonlight lit up the triangular symbol that was carved into the wooden floor.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he returned home, Alys waited for him inside. Words of comfort that just felt cloying, and touch that brought him no peace. They sat in silence punctuated by occasional attempts at conversation by Alys. He sat appearing indifferent, growing more uncomfortable with her presence. “I think you should go.” He finally stated. Alys nodded and blinked for a second before she grabbed her bag and walked out of the door. His self-inflicted loneliness weighed heavily upon him, and he found himself searching the entire house for Vhagar. The ornery old cat had chosen a damn good hiding place wherever she was because he couldn’t draw her out of any spot. Finally, he came to the one part of the house he had been avoiding. Your room.

Wife killer.

Did you plan this?

The words tantalized him, drawing him to lows he had not felt in years. People had always assumed he was monstrous, and he had leaned into it after a while. Might as well, since it seemed people only ever waited for the other shoe to drop. Aemond took a deep breath before entering. The room smelled like you and told him a lot he had not known. Wife killer. He had always suspected you disliked the minimalist design of the house, and that was reflected by almost every inch of the exposed wall being covered. He also surveyed the room, his eyes passing over a Cramps tapestry and a poster for some horror film he didn’t recognize. He made a mental note to watch it later. Something gripped at him, as his eye finally came to rest on your bed. The duvet cover was lux, a soft cotton candy pink that fit with the rest of the room. There, on a massive ghost plushie, sat Vhagar. She blinked at him, and he felt a sense of judgment. He closed the gap between him and the bed and stared at it for a few seconds longer, running his hand over the smooth fabric. Wife killer. He balled his fist for the brief moment the thought popped into his mind, gripping the duvet tightly enough to tear it. Cursing, and feeling a roaring anger flow through him, he slammed his fist onto the bed and yelled out as loud as he could. When the scream stopped, tears began to flow from his sole eye. He turned to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes landing on more of your decor. Clenching his fists again, and grateful for the emptiness of the house, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and squeezed it tightly. He inhaled the scent as deeply as he could, closing his eye and letting the scent give way to fractals of Y/N. Singing in the kitchen on a Sunday morning, stretching next to Vhagar’s cat tree and flexing your toes out of distance whenever the geriatric cat tried to bap them, knee deep in the garden and grinning with dirt smeared across your cheek. His chest shook with his soft cries, and he reached his hand out to stroke the other pillow wistfully. You were gone. Probably dead. If not, terrified and cursing his name. He wiped his eye off angrily as if trying to scrub away any evidence of his emotions. He missed you.

Wife killer.

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

Taglist: @chainsawsangel

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd x reader #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd imagine

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