#Lys - Light within Scales

[quiet-psychic]

★-for Adric and Lys

Send my character a ★ and I’ll bold everything they feel toward your character.

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

This just in, local golden retriever of a person is very fond of their friend! To the surprise of absolutely nobody!! ^_^ The one that's crossed out is only crossed out cause Lys is a nervous lil bean.

#promiseofdawn #Lys - Light Within Scales #ask #answered #//-sips juice- #//-holds up this information- #//just some fun facts for ya!!

[love-bitesx]

is it possible for a Hobie X fem reader on her period? Like maybe he swings by her place thru the window, goes in and the first thing he sees is reader lying face flat on the bed or ground, hand clutching her stomach 🤯

: ̗̀➛ JUST NEED YOU. hobie brown x fem!reader

genuine question: do i write hobie too soft?? idk if he's too ooc or not, any feedback would be amazing! thank u for the req !!

summary: hobie comes home to find you curled up on the floor in pain. words: 952 REQUESTS OPEN! warnings: no pronouns are used, but reader is on their period so, apply that as you choose! gn friendly. obviously, mentions of period, no graphic blood description but mentions of bleeding. hobie being a softie, as per usual.

all he could think of is you.

gliding through the streets, his shoulder aching at the joints slightly from swinging all day, his evening consisting of darting around the city and scanning the streets for any mishaps. pulling himself along, his fingers itched for you, needing to be close, smell your scent and kiss your skin.

almost crashing down onto your fire escape, he scaled the staircase to your room, sighing to himself at the familiar orange glow radiating from your window. it was open just an inch, the warmth spilling into the cold london air, and he couldn’t help but smile thinking you’d left it open just for him.

letting the glow swallow him whole, he dragged the window off it’s latch and kicked through to your bedroom, comforted by the familiarity. your laptop was open on the visibly slept-in bed, the duvet ruffled, no longer molded on the mattress. worn clothes discarded onto the carpeted floor, there was all evidence of your presence, but you weren’t anywhere to be seen.

“darlin’?” hobie called out, kicking his boots off and pulling your bedroom door open, met with the darkness of the rest of your apartment, “y/n, it’s hobie, you ‘ere, love?”

a muffled rustle in the bathroom sent a tingle down his spine, and he turned to see the door shut, the gentle white illumination spilling from underneath it. knocking gently, not wanting to alarm you, his brows furrowed at the silence that followed.

“y/n?” voice softer than his usual harsh exterior, apprehension beginning to bundle in his stomach at the lack of response, until he heard a soft, exhausted groan from within, “you okay?”

another groan sounded, and he immediately reached for the handle, shaking it rushedly to check if it was locked. it wasn’t, the door creaking open on it’s hinges, revealing the harsh white light from within. his eyes went straight to you, his heart dropping at the sight.

curled up on the freezing, tiled floor, you clutched at your stomach in pain. crouching to his knees, his cold hands reached to pull you to him, cradling your head to his chest. fingers running along your skin to check for wounds or injuries, he furrowed his brows.

your skin was drained of colour, the subtle bags under your eyes damp from tears. gently, he brushed the hair from your face, the familiarity of his touch melting you like putty in his hands. he was just the comfort you’d been craving.

“what ‘appened, sweetheart?” his hand cupped your face, bringing it up to look at him, your eyes filled with water, “use your words for me.”

“it’s silly,” voice cracking with tears, you pressed your cheek into his hand, the chill of his metal rings a weird solace.

“tell me, i can help,” a kiss to your forehead cracked a soft smile on your lips.

tearfully you begun, “i just, i woke up and- and i was bleeding…you know,” your cheeks warmed in an innate wash of embarassment, “the cramps just, they hurt so much and i didn’t know what to do.”

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t panic a little bit. not that he was uncomfortable with periods, he was never conservative about that kind of thing, but the feeling of helplessness created a conflict within him. in almost every situation, he lived to save you, it was part of his humanity, his purpose in the world. this felt like something he couldn’t save you from, it unsettled him.

“what do you need?” he spoke against your hairline, thumb caressing your plush cheek.

bringing your hands to his vest, you pulled him impossibly close, breathing in the scent of him and nuzzling into his chest, “just need you.”

melting, his chilled heart turned soft at your words, chest spreading with warmth at the feeling of you, small in his embrace. something itched at him, he was a compassionate man, but prided himself in his cool, harsh exterior at times – until you came about. a spring of safety in his dangerous conscience.

“come on, darlin’,” he muttered, securing his strength underneath you and picking you up from the inhospitable bathroom tiles. you clung to his neck, arms fluid against the sharp collar.

carrying you through to the bedroom, he placed you softly on the mattress, kissing your cheek delicately on the cheek before stepping away, “’ll be back in a sec, love.”

left without him, you tucked yourself under the covers, wincing as a wave of aching pains split your lower abdomen in half – a tear falling down your flushed face. shooting up your spine and fuzzing your head, you barely noticed when hobie stepped back into the room.

opening your eyes at the weighted feeling of hobie sitting on the bed beside you, you’re met with a fresh glass of water and painkillers, hobie shrugging off his vest and jewellery to climb in beside you.

“you didn’t have to get all that,” you smiled gingerly, sipping the liquid and sighing at the feeling.

“’course i did,” he kicked off his jeans and pulled the comforter over you both, snaking his bare arms around your waist, careful not to put pressure on your abdomen, burying his face in your neck, “need to look after you. love you too much.”

“i love you, too, hobie.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #spiderpunk #love-bitesx

[yellydany]

Kongamato🌒 (Eclipsis Naviruptor)

"The terror of the skies and oceans. The Kongamato are a dinosaurian species known most for their power to obfuscate the sun with their large wingspans and scales which can absorb  light to such an extent that it provokes an artificial eclipse. They are believed to have existed since ancient times alongside other megafauna—which could explain their enormous size given they would have to hunt prey just as huge—but ever since, its population has decreased and (luckily) are somewhat rare to come across. A Kongamato will often hunt and spend its days in solitude. With scales far too resistant to be penetrated they can travel freely as an apex across the lands and elements. Because of their gigantic sizes, smaller creatures are not sufficient and will be attracted to large crowds—like human villages—to devour whole. It is why eclipses are feared and associated with the advent of these terrifying beings. They have adapted to survive months and even years without any nutrients if lying dormant or keeping a low activity. An overall frightening species that defies extinction. 

There exists a notable sexual dimorphism within the species. Starting from the flaplings (younglings), males have a red growing crest over their skeletal foreheads and the tip of their tails is pointing like a sail while females appear more simplistic yet very similar to their counterparts at this stage—both having a white feathery body that will be replaced with scales upon growing. The differences however vastly increase upon reaching adulthood, females (who can exclusively reproduce asexually in some instances) tower over males in size and grow white scales while the latter acquire a black hue instead. The Kongamato are nigh impossible to tame given their unpredictable, often hostile nature and sheer destructive power whether they intend it or not."

#digital art #digital illustration #creature #aesthetic #art #creature design #concept art #fantasy creature #fantasy #artwork #art commisions #art commissions open #art comms open #commission #demon oc #monster #kaiju #speculative biology #speculative evolution #nature #ecosystem #concept design #dragon art #dragon #dinosaur #paleoart #wyvern #kaiju art #oc #wings

[argentnoelle]

The Impact of Light Yagami's Time in Confinement

This meta draws from the Washington University Journal of Law and Policy paper Psychiatric Effects of Solitary Confinement by Stuart Grassian.

While solitary confinement is generally used in TV shows as a less extreme method of torture or interrogation, since it does not involve physical violence, it is actually quite brutal. People who undergo solitary confinement may experience perceptual distortions up to and including hallucinations involving multiple senses, as well as paranoia and obsessional thoughts, and difficulties thinking and concentrating, along with violent outbursts and self harm. "Prisoners confined in solitary confinement for no longer than one week were oftentimes found to have acute psychotic breaks," and there is a group of symptoms that tend to show up in cases of solitary confinement that are quite distinct, and some of the hallucinatory symptoms are ones that commonly show up in neurological illnesses.

Solitary confinement was first popularized in the American prison system, with the idea that it would allow criminals to think and repent—however, what was instead found was a baffling pattern of mental illness that correlated with the people who were put into such sensory restrictive states. After this was realized, the extreme measures of solitary confinement in prisons were scaled back, but solitary confinement continued to be used as a method of torture.

Not every person who undergoes solitary confinement will have the full range of symptoms. Some people deal better with it than others, and there are a few underlying reasons why that is. Firstly, "an individual who receives clues which cause him to experience the isolation situation as potentially threatening is far more likely to develop adverse psychiatric reactions." How does this apply to Light?

For the first seven days Light spends in confinement, he still has all his Kira memories and knows that he is locked up because he wants to be, as part of his grand plan. He seems quite in control and generally even-keeled. Then, he loses his memories. Instantly, he panics, because he suddenly believes he's been framed and unjustly imprisoned for the crimes of Kira, and he has no clue if he'll ever be freed. Light's isolation immediately becomes a threatening experience. Canon glosses over the full fifty-three days of his confinement, but we can see a little bit of how it wears on him in the few panels it cuts to him, as he progresses little by little over the days to increasingly apathetic postures.

Going into more detail on the symptoms of solitary confinement, adjustment to isolation tends to take one to three weeks. This will include anxiety and hyperactivity. But gradually, the prisoner "gives up all spontaneous activity within his cell and ceases to care about personal appearance and actions. Finally, he sits and stares with a vacant expression, perhaps endlessly twisting a button on his coat." This is something we canonically observe in Light's time in confinement, as the Light at the end of his confinement spends his days apparently lying on the floor and staring into space, when L isn't interrogating him.

There is another reason that doesn't bode well for Light's time in solitary confinement, and that is his personality. The people who do the worst in solitary confinement include psychopathic individuals and people with ADHD. The reason, the study surmises, is that solitary confinement is in effect extreme sensory deprivation, and these personalities already suffer from being chronically understimulated. Without diagnosing Light, I think it's possible to surmise that he would do badly in solitary confinement, as he is canonically "unable to tolerate routine and boredom" similar to those who suffer the most in solitary confinement. The quoted paper makes this remark: "Individuals with high needs for novelty and new sensations, ... who are emotionally unstable, or who are unconcerned with social approval seem unsuited for ... such environments ... The opposite [traits are found in] those who adjust well." Bad news for Light all around.

On the plus side, Light is educated and functioned quite well in day to day life before confinement, which are some of the traits found in those who do the best in such a situation. Even so, although individuals who do the best in this situation don't suffer the same psychotic states, they still experience perceptual disturbances, anxiety, panic attacks, and difficulties in cognition and memory with frequent mental fog.

Fortunately, the acute symptoms of solitary confinement quickly disappear the moment a person has been released from the situation. Unfortunately, there are also many long-term effects such as PTSD including pervasive feelings of hopelessness and depression, hypervigilance, withdrawal, and personality changes including intolerance with social interaction.

I would argue that Light canonically shows evidence of some of these long-term effects, as the Light we see in part 1 is social, friendly, and outgoing to all appearances (despite his inner thoughts) and even while being suspected of murder, is a generally optimistic and happy person. Yotsuba arc Light is rarely the focal character, and is mostly seen "performing" for the rest of the task force and L, but in part 3, after the time skip, where Light is again the main character, we can see that he lives a remarkably different life.

Despite quickly rising through the ranks of the police and growing the scope of his Kira activities, Light spends most of his days in one single apartment, interacting with the same five people. He does not seem to have any social life outside of this. He is markedly less social than his younger self, and frequently blindsided by events that one can assume his younger self would have taken in stride. He spends plenty of time gloating about his superiority over Near, yet Near is able to easily undermine him again and again—and I argue that it's not that Near is so much smarter than L, or even that Light is in a worse-off position now than he was back then. At least not to start.

The real difference is in the way Light reacts to threats and the fact that he spends so much less time cultivating his social image and disregarding his allies.

There are many possible reasons for the difference in Light's character pre- and post- timeskip, but one I've never seen brought up is the potential effect of the solitary confinement he underwent.

#death note #meta #my meta

[squirrelsqwirow]

HC: mountaineer!reiner x fem!reader

a/n: I've seen a lot of farmer!reiner and cowboy!reiner, which I love, but never a mountaineer!reiner and I just can't stop thinking about it cw: Light smut below, mentions of death, modern au, sub!reiner

mountaineer!reiner who was born and grew up within a small German village within the Bavarian Alps - a tourist town it was, attracting thousands of hikers world-wide, and hundreds of influencers for it's quaint cafes and inns.

mountaineer!reiner who knows the vast region around his village like the back of his hand - he doesn't need a map, (however he continues to take one), as he has memorised every hike, trail and worn-down path.

mountaineer!reiner who owns a moderately-sized wooden cabin just outside of the village with his lovely wife

mountaineer!reiner who's cabin sits on a grassy hillside walled by the forest, the only access being the dirt driveway that weaves through the woods - a delicate creek slices through the hillside and runs next to the cobble patio outback

mountaineer!reiner who awakens every morning with you in his arms, face dug into the crook of your neck, the newly grown scruff on his chin and cheeks scratching your skin as he shifts to hold you closer - you groan as he does, being pushed from side-to-side as he wiggles down to rest on your chest, arms secured around your waist

"what'ya doing?" you had said the first time. "sorry," he mumbled and place a sleepy kiss to the fat of your right breast. "you're warm." reiner hummed with a smile as you ran your fingers through his hair and caressed his face. "and comfortable."

mountaineer!reiner who loves slow mornings, basking in the yellow light that seeps through the curtains as you both struggle to pull back the covers - who loves mornings where you lay together as entangled limbs; pants; whines; soft moans filling the room - who loves productive mornings where you both separately get ready for the day, sharing quick kisses as you pass each other in the hallway, kitchen and bedroom

mountaineer!reiner who always brings you in for a deep kiss as he leaves for the day, and as he pulls away he gives you the warmest, sweetest smile filled with love and adoration, caressing your cheek before whispering 'I love you'

mountaineer!reiner who works as a local guide for hikers, leading groups of people on hikes that can range from 40 minutes to the lookout on the mountain, or 6 hour hikes into the mountains and forest

mountaineer!reiner who loves his job and wishes to leave Germany for a little while to hike some of the most famous trails in the world

mountaineer!reiner who wants to bring you on these dream journeys, your hands linked together as you scale the flat or rough terrain - bodies pressed together under the sleeping bag as the tent pitter-patters with light rain - the taste of coffee on your tongues as you share kisses against the great view of the rising sun

mountaineer!reiner who always wants to match his wife's hiking clothes

"love, which ones should we wear?" reiner turned around and held up two different sets of hiking clothes. he lifted the first pair: "the blue and black?" he lifted the second: "or the red, orange and yellow?" you had little time to think as reiner sheepishly held out the first pair. "I like this one." you smiled, "I like that one too."

mountaineer!reiner who loves taking you on hikes, whether they be days long or 30 minutes into the forest for a picnic

mountaineer!reiner who's favourite spot for a picnic is a grassy hillside behind the cabin that's peppered with flowers, over-looking the village - a basket, a red-white checkered blanket and you lying next to him - he's in heaven

mountaineer!reiner who cannot stop sneezing as he collects a bouquet for you from the field - who almost cries when you continue to preserve the bouquets he gives you and place them in vases around the house - he'll stare lovingly at them when you're away

mountaineer!reiner who will lick excess whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, his face the shade of the strawberry jam in the pastries he and you baked for the picnic date

he pulls away with his heart thumping against his ribs, the taste of whipped cream heavy on his tongue. you gently reached out for his chin and bring him in for a soft kiss, one that leaves a shy smile on his face. reiner leans his head into the crook of your neck and looks down at the bustling village below, feeling happy and loved.

mountaineer!reiner who's job isn't always great, as within the wilderness and long hiking trails people can go missing

mountaineer!reiner is one of the first to be called when a hiker disappears - works himself to the bone trying to find them, narrowing down their last known location and following tracks, exploring every possible structure in the area that the hiker could have taken refuge in, working alongside a large team that scales mountains and dips into valley's

mountaineer!reiner who can almost cry with joy as he finds them curled away to escape the dropping temperatures, and sometimes mountaineer!reiner who sobs into your lap as the search is called off after a number of weeks

mountaineer!reiner who, under the covers in your shared bed, will confess his feelings of failure and guilt for never finding this hiker - he'll confess the pure terror of being lost in the wilderness, one of his greatest fears

"I feel like I could've done more," reiner said with half his face dug into the pillow. "maybe if I looked harder or-or tried harder we would've found them..." his voice cracks, "but I-I just..." you don't say anything as he sobs, only pulling him closer and running your fingers through his hair.

mountaineer!reiner who is a kind, empathetic and compassionate man that never forgets the people never found, and tried his best to bring some sort of closure to the families

mountaineer!reiner who often retreats to the hot-spring behind the cabin to relax and clear his mind - his favourite time to jump in is during winter, when the snow is heavy and thick, but most importantly with you curled up by his side

mountaineer!reiner who pants into your shoulder and clings to your waist as you sit on his lap, the steaming water sloshing against your sides as you slide up and down

his face is red from the heat, and you can see how he is close from the way he bites his lip and his eyes roll back into his head. reiner's hips stutter as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, his legs tremble beneath the water and as you bring his head to rest on your shoulder, his mouth falls open as the tight pressure between his legs finally bursts.

mountaineer!reiner who loves when you make love to him slow and sensual, but isn't against being roughed up every now and then - he will pay back the favour with his head between your thighs for as long as you want, drunk of the sound of your moans and the gentle whisper of the forest outside the open window

mountaineer!reiner who's lean and sharply toned in the summer, muscles rippling under his skin as he carries out his chores, but is softer and squishy during the colder months, his strong muscles coated in a thin layer of fat

mountaineer!reiner who always asks if you can help him shave even though he is perfectly capable of doing it himself - he just loves the feeling of you softly angling his head to where you want, and brushing your fingers down his soft cheeks

mountaineer!reiner who pretends to not notice you eyeing him as he chops wood outside, and who always 'accidentally' forgets to put on a shirt as he does - he'll have a lopsided grin and a deep blush, but doesn't fail to give you a show as he casually stretches to flex his large biceps and back muscles

mountaineer!reiner who loves the domestic life he lives - chopping wood out back, cooking meals, cleaning the house, fixing the sink in the kitchen and frequent trips into the village where he takes his wife to brunch

mountaineer!reiner who has been cleaning out a spare room little by little for months, almost bouncing in excitement at the possibility that it might be a nursery one day

"hey, sweetheart?" reiner beckoned you to the doorway of the spare room and pointed to the far right corner. "what'ya think about... I dunno, a crib in here soon?"

mountaineer!reiner who loves his life, wife and little slice of paradise and wouldn't trade it for all the riches in the world

#reiner braun #aot reiner #reiner x reader #reiner smut #attack on titan #aot #reiner #reiner braun x reader

[graceshouldwrite]

How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

#writers on tumblr #writing #booktok #writeblr #novel #writer #writerslife #wattpad #writing tips #writergram #wip #media analysis #book recommendations #bookstagram #plot holes #writing ideas #ya fantasy #fantasy #ya fiction #characters

[ceruleancattail]

Granted

Malleus x bard reader

(A continuation of Encounter.)

Fingers trailing over your palm, carefully tracing every line. His touch was gentle, carrying the warmth of golden sunshine, alighting on a daisy. You stifle a yawn.

Malleus has been at this for awhile. Rubbing slow circles into your skin with his thumb, his touch lingering on your callouses. Rough patches of skin, hardened from years of playing your instrument.

They scratched at every surface they alighted upon. A husk of skin, protecting the tender flesh lying underneath.

Not the most attractive part of your body, if you do say so yourself.

Fingertips sore and red from plucking strings, crescents of crimson peeking from underneath your nails. They used to sting, with the fury of a thousand wasps. Now, the pain’s dulled itself to a persistent throb, gnawing away at your hand.

It still hurts, but not as much as it used to.

A sigh, Malleus’s breath wafting against your hand. A ticklish sensation. A laugh slips from your lips, before you pull your hand away. Eyes of emerald follow your hand, watching it as it drops onto your lap.

Leaning towards him, you elbow Malleus playfully.

“What’s up with you and my hand? Wanna’ put a ring on that?”

He blinks slowly, as if a raindrop just splattered onto his forehead. Stunned surprise, eyes widening like a cat caught unawares. Another laugh falls from your lips, as you clutch at your trembling sides.

You’ll never get tired of just how expressive Malleus could be. You just can’t see him on a throne, not after your travels with him. Even if you tried, the only image you could conjure up was his smile.

A warm, soothing thing that simply just shone. Not with the sheer power of sunshine, blinding all who witnessed it. Malleus smiled with the serene aura of the moon, the silver light glowing in the pitch black night sky.

His lips moved ever so slightly. Forming words so impossibly soft, that they were blown away by the breeze.

“Perhaps I shall.”

“I beg your pardon?”

You tilt your head a little closer to him, trying to catch even a letter of his words.

Malleus only chuckles, your words a melody to his ears. Goodness, what power you hold. To be able to charm him with your words alone. What a terrifying bard.

“You may have it. I was only wondering about the… stiffness of your hands.”

Stretching your arms out, you held both of your hands aloft, palms facing him. The position was strangely reminiscent of a prayer. You dangle your hands in front of him, wiggling your fingers.

“Years of playing music, Malleus. That’s what it’ll do to your hands. These are the hands of a fighter, my dear prince.”

Reaching for your hands, he squeezes them affectionately. Holding them gingerly within his own, Malleus’ heartbeat tapping lightly into your hands.

“Perhaps, child of man. Perhaps.”

A rustle, as Malleus’ tail snakes forward. A scaly, ebony thing, resting on his lap. He releases your hand, running it down his tail. Scales slip off at his touch, clattering onto the ground. Riffling through the debris, he picks out a particularly small one.

Edges rounded, it’s slightly comical all alone in his hand. Black as the night sky, yet there was a certain twinkle to it that was simply enchanting. As if a star was shattered into fragments and scattered throughout the scale.

It sparkled in the light.

An entire universe, condensed into this one scale.

Malleus places it in your hands, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s admirable, how hard you have been fighting for your music.”

Lowering his head, Malleus presses a kiss into the very tip of your fingers. A light, fleeting thing. Much like the wings of a butterfly, just barely brushing against your skin.

“The scars of a warrior are not easily earned. A courageous fighter, indeed.”

He gesture to the scale.

“It’s about time someone gave you a sword.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus Draconia x reader #malleus #lucky potion🔹 #I’M BACK SUCKERS #anyway encounter kicked the ever living shit out of me but this idea was gnawing at my brain for the entire day #yeah the scale is explained!!!!!!! Malleus doesn’t want to see your hands all red and sore :(((( so he gets you a pick! #literally…. from his tail…. but like hey it’s pretty smooth! #being super honest encounter and granted were supposed to be one big fic #but like I had to pace myself before my brain overheated #but I’m pretty happy with how these two turned out! #would you victims be interested in seeing what the other options lead to?

[broken-egg-yolk-blog]

part one part two

Nico truly hoped Will was right. He kept claiming that as soon as the summer campers left everything would all settle down. Nico felt as if he needed that more than ever. Despite the last week of summer being significantly less eventful as most weeks, it did not stop it from being chaotic. Some campers chose to spend their last few days of camp relaxing and hanging about with their friends they wouldn’t see until next year. Others spent their time pulling last minute pranks, or using every given opportunity to exploit their demi-godly privileges until their last chance.

Friday is seemingly when reality hit. On Sunday most of the campers would pack up their belongings and head home for the school year, leaving behind their second home and their friends. This year Nico was staying for good. A mixture of emotions swelled within him. Anxiety, what if people still held grudges against him? What if they didn’t actually want him to stay at all? Sadness, his closest friends were leaving to go back to school. Sure he had some people, including Will-obviously, but the idea of losing the people he had just gained opened a wound in his heart he wasn’t prepared for. Much to his confusion, Nico also felt excited. He finally had a home. A solid, reliable home, complete with people he cared about and got to spend time with.

Will hiked up the hill to meet him. He sat down in the grass next to Nico with a slight sigh. Whenever Will sat down next to him Nico couldn’t help but notice that he sat fairly close. Close enough that their knees, or elbows, or sometimes even their hands, would bump into and brush against one another. Nico, not so secretly, enjoyed it. It was nice having someone that wasn’t afraid to be near him, someone that didn’t see him as inherently dangerous or evil. 

“Hi,” Nico says.

Will glances over at him, that soft permanent smile making Nico feel compelled to return it, “Hey, death boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes lightly, he’d long since grown used to the nickname but he couldn’t help but find it mildly ridiculous every time.

“How is the infirmary?”

“Forecast says it probably won’t burn down,” Will jokes, “assuming the Stoll brothers keep it together for another forty-eight hours.”

“That is a lot to ask of them you know,” Nico met his eyes, he had been practicing eye contact with Jason earlier that day. Despite his attempts to prove Will wrong, Nico felt the strong urge to pull his focus away. Will’s eyes were way different than Jasons. There was so much more to looking at him, it made Nico’s body burn beneath his skin.

“Yeah, well, they owe me a few favors,” Will replied, his gaze tracing Nico’s face in a way that made him want to turn away and hide forever, yet simultaneously never look away. 

Nico smiled at Will, the eye contact burning a hole between them. Will was the first to look away, Nico would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, something about it held an intensity Nico hadn’t been ready for, but the absence of it left him craving more. A comfortable silence settled between the two of them as they took turns looking out over the scene of camp below them and stealing gazes of the other when they were not looking. 

Nico thought that Will had an unfair advantage when it came to looks. He felt as if he was nothing truly special, he definitely wasn’t the worst looking but when compared to Will, let’s just say he didn’t think they even belonged on the same measuring scale. Especially now, in the afternoon light, finally relaxing after a day of work, Will looked incredible. His messy blonde hair clumped into curls falling just below his law line, summer tanned skin radiating warmth, his skin decorated with an excess of freckles from a well spent summer.

“Will,”

“Yeah?” Nico could see him gaze over from the corner of his eye but he kept his gaze locked on the horizon.

“You’re from Texas, right?”

“Indeed,” Will smiled, sounding slightly confused. Nico just hummed in response. A beat of silence held between them. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just-” Nico bit his lip, realizing now how stupid it sounded, “was curious?”

“About something you already knew?”

“Yes.” That, somehow, made Will laugh, which caused a flood of warmth to spread through Nico’s body as their legs bumped together.

“Do you want to know more about it?” 

More about you, Nico thought, “Yes.”

“Okay what do you want to know?”  Will asked, sounding incredibly amused. He shifted his body so that he was facing Nico more, their legs partially intertwined, crossed at the ankles. Will didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t seem to mind.

Fuck, Nico chided to himself. He hadn’t thought this far in advance. He racked his brain for questions about Texas. He only ever knew one other person from Texas, Leo Valdez. The name brought a wave of sadness through Nico but he pushed it away, refusing to dwell on it right now. Leo was definitely not the prime example of a proper Texan, but it was all Nico had to work with. 

“Do you have one of those hats?” Nico blurted out, it was a stupid question. The first thing that had come to his mind was a memory of a running joke between Jason, Piper and Leo about him needing some type of hat to actually count as an Texan. Will would absolutely think he was stupid.

Instead of berating him, Will laughed again. “You mean a cowboy hat?”

“Yes, one of those.”

“You tell me you want to learn more about Texas, then your first question is ‘do you have a cowboy hat?’” 

“Obviously.” Nico layered his voice with as much confidence as he could.

“What type of question is that?”

“Well I heard that you're not a real Texan if you don't own one.”

“Where did you even hear that?” Will grinned, his face shining with exasperation.

“That’s not important.” Nico was gaining more reassurance, as he often did when conversations like this took off between the two of them.

“I think it might be, someone here is clearly spreading false information.”

“So then you don’t have one?”

“That is not what I said.” Will shot him a look, one that said ‘be careful here or you might just get tackled’. Nico was willing to push his luck.

“Sure sounds like it, sunshine.” That luck Nico was just thinking about? Pushed.

Will scoffed, both surprised and amused. “Fine. I do.”

“You do what?” Nico blinked at him.

“Oh don’t play stupid,” 

“I simply do not know what you are talking about, Solace.”

Will grit his teeth, eyes sparkling. “I own a cowboy hat.”

“No way! Are you from Texas?” Nico gasped.

“Oh you are such an asshole,” 

“You deserve it.”

“Trust me I have gotten enough shit over that hat, my mom made me take it to camp with me.” Will sighed dramatically, “She said ‘no good country artist mother would leave her baby to fend for himself without the proper attire,’. Lee and Micheal used to bully the living daylight out of me over it.”

Nico found himself laughing at the story. He imagined a young Will, showing up to Camp Half-Blood cowboy hat sat upon his head. It was a glorious image. 

“Do you still have it?” Nico asked, still grinning at the mental image.

“Yeah, tucked under my bunk.” Will shook his head, not trying to hide the smile on his own face.

A thought popped into Nico’s head, “Oh please tell me you have those boots too!”

“Gods no!” Will cried out, the two boys nearly fell over each other laughing. “I am not that southern.”

“Maybe when you’re tired, or mad.”

“What?”

“Your accent, it’s more noticeable when you’re tired or mad.” Immediately after saying this Nico worried if he crossed the line from friend, into weird stalker.

“I do not. Have an accent.” Will’s voice was more dramatically shocked than stern. Nico relaxed a little bit. 

“Oh you so do.”

“Fine, but so do you.”

“What?!” That earned a grin from the other boy.

“Only on certain words, usually the really italian ones, you can’t help but pronounce them correctly.” Will looked smug, his eyes narrow and smirk wide. Nico couldn’t help but blush. Will had a point.

“Fine then,” He decided, “We’re even.”

“Hmph.” Will thinks for a moment, “My turn-”

“Your turn?” Nico blurts out, cutting him off.

“Yes, you asked me a question. Now I get to ask you a question.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-”

“It is now, I make the rules.” Will cut Nico off this time, “Your clothes, the whole edgy ‘too emo for school’ vibe, is that a cabin requirement? Or personal preference?”

Nico rolled his eyes. Piper and Percy had explained to him what emo meant a few weeks before, the first time Will had called him that. 

“It’s personal preference, I think. It just matches how I feel I guess. I think I would feel like a complete loser and a total fraud in khaki shorts and an orange shirt.” Nico tried to hide his smirk on the last line.

“Yeah okay, that makes-” Will realized Nico’s attack, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing, you flip flop wearing fool”

“They’re so much more comfortable, my feet overheat too much otherwise.”

“I am so sure they do.” Nico had to admit, Will’s tone did sound pretty convincing. 

“Whatever, so you just like the dark edgy clothes?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting,” Will paused for a moment before matter-of-factly stating: “I like them too.”

Nico’s face burnt red. “What?” He sputtered out.

“I said I like them too, they look good on you.” Will looked over Nico, as if studying his composure of dark wash jeans and black shirt. “It suits you.”

Nico forced himself to regain his composure, he needed to make some type of step forwards. He couldn’t keep letting Will fluster him and then run away.

“Well, I think you’d look really good in that hat of yours.” The words slipped from his mouth and nearly took the contents of his stomach with them. 

“Really?” Will asked, obviously caught off guard. 

“Oh yeah, I can see it now. It’d be great.”

Will blushed, a sight that invoked feelings within Nico that he wanted to chase for the rest of his life. Nico knew there was no turning back now. He was absolutely in over his head for this boy.

“My turn,” Nico said, not giving Will a chance to respond. “Apollo’s thing is music, right? Do you play an instrument?”

“Technically?” Will replied, still apparently recovering, “I mean I know quite a few, I’d say I’m the best at guitar out of all of them but music hasn’t ever really been my thing.”

“Right,”

“I’m not bad at it by any means but I am nowhere near as good as Austin, I guess we all have our field that we really excel in.” 

“Naturally,” Nico nodded.

“Why?”

“You always ask follow-up questions to my questions.” Nico stated, watching Will carefully.

“Does it annoy you?” Will asked.

“A little bit.” Nico was not telling the truth, Will didn’t need to know that.

“Good.” He grinned.

“Okay well, you never really lead many of the campfire songs like your siblings do, I was curious again I guess.” Nico watched the other boy's face as he spoke, seeing him think through his response, watching the words formulate in his head.

“In all honesty,” Will said, that resting smile occupying his face, “It’s because they don’t like the music that I listen to as much.”

“Is it country music?” Nico had asked this seriously, but Will must have taken it as a joke because he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Not entirely,” He shook his head lightly, his golden hair fanning out and settling back down again, “I like a lot of midwest emo,”

Nico must have looked really lost, and honestly he was. He knew what the word ‘emo’ meant but midwest emo? Those words didn’t even have meaning. 

“I’ll explain it to you some other time” Will promised.

“You’ll just have to show me.” Nico shrugged, his false confidence from earlier still sitting in his gut.

“What now you want me to serenade you too?” Will looked at Nico, moving ever so slightly closer as he asked, his tone had a hint of challenge to it. 

“Yes.” Nico replied bluntly. “Preferably with the cowboy hat on.”

“You ask too much of me.” Will barely shook his head, eyes still locked on the boy in front of him.

“Always. But you know,” He let his eyes slip from Will’s piercing gaze down to his lips, then immediately back up to his eyes, “It would do wonders for that charm of yours.”

With that, Nico stood up. He let whatever stupid confidence was flowing within him carry him away, back down the hill, feeling as if he was floating. Leaving the son of Apollo still dumbstruck in the grass, and very slight, incredibly, impressed.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #pjo #solangelo #solangelo fic #nico di angelo #will solace #i actually didn’t proof read this #again #mildly self indulgent #okay maybe very self indulgent #this ended up being kind of really long #its fine it is mostly dialogue #i have plans #big big plans #keep an eye out for part 4

[suengmi]

stray kids mythological series: seungmin

pairing: mermaid!seungmin x human!gn!reader genre: suggestive content, pg word count: 1.9k warnings/other: implications of mating, thank you to @l3visbby for giving me the idea for this ♡

masterlist / mythological!au series index

every year, there was one night where the flowers bloomed a little too bright and the waters became too shallow. the sky would light up, millions of stars aligning with the flow of the waves and fluorescent blue waters would shimmer. there was a cave, a cave where the unknown sea creatures sang and gathered. not once did you get too close, not wanting to disturb the hymns of the mermaids. it was a gift, a gift to witness just this once a year event.

the first year you went; you remember the sound of the waves gently rolling off of your paddle boat and the glistening crystal cave walls flickering in the moonlight. that one night, you were able to find a small shiny scale floating in the water. it was transparent, but shone so brightly. you decided you’d wear it as a necklace, a gift you wore so proudly around your neck. unfortunately you weren’t able to get too close, fear of disturbing the beautiful sirens in their rituals.

it was interesting, you had heard stories and drinking songs in the taverns about siren calls, the men on the ships speaking in tall tales of being enthralled by the seemingly genderless beauties. you knew it wasn’t that the case. they were more than just apparent vicious creatures that fed on humans, you could feel it.

-

it was around midnight when you heard the hymns, beautiful echoes of intrinsic melodies echoing from the caves to the shore. your boat was ready, the moon lighting your way as you haphazardly fought against the tides and paddled towards the sound.

as you approached the cave; just out of your line of sight there was a ripple, followed by another not far behind. weird. you thought. the creatures didn’t usually come this far out. nonetheless, you paddled closer, the small oil lamp sitting on the front of your boat shaking with every movement. as soon as you saw a few figures in the light, you came to a halt.

there were six of them that you could see, four lazily lying on the large water carved rocks, two bobbing in the water. it was incredible, you’d never seen so many before. the details in the tails, the shining scales almost blinding. it was otherworldly, the beauty before you. you almost feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to witness this, going places where you shouldn’t and where human eyes have never seen.

you notice how they interact. a little like cats if you think about it. they screech and scratch at each other, but also play with each other's hair, placing their heads together while they sing.

it’s not until a moment later you’re startled from your gaze, a pale and skinny figure sitting up right in the water. 

holy shit.

a real life mermaid, is staring at you. his eyes are dark, rings of white and silver sparkles painting the planes of his cheeks and chest. his hair is slicked back, small hints of white tinges within the tendrils of his brown hair. the expression on his face is blank, but he doesn’t seem aggressive by his stance.

slowly, he turns his head a bit to the side before he bobs underwater, suddenly reappearing by the edge of your boat not a moment later. one of his long pointed fingers presses on the side of the wood as he pulls himself closer, his eyes settled on yours.

the creature blinks at you, head moving with the motions of the water. it’s as if he’s trying to figure you out, but you as he, the same thing running through your mind.

“i, uh, came to hear you sing.” you manage to peep, leaning back. 

the mermaid continues to stare at you, pupils so dark they almost completely took over the whites of his eyes.

“really?” he asks in a stern but curious manner, arms coming up to lean on the edge of the boat. “now, why would you do that? silly little thing.”

with what he’s saying and how he’s saying it, it’s absolutely patronizing, like he knows something you don’t. but it seems almost amused at your confession and at your lack of an answer.

“it’s interesting, humans go somewhat insane for our calls. but you? nothing.”

“if you’re referring to the men on the ships… they’ll fuck anyone that talks to them. a siren’s song would send them mad of course.” you say as if it’s common knowledge. well, to you it is.

“who said anything about fucking?” the mermaid smiles, pushing himself back from the boat to laugh.

when you think about it, the mermaid probably knows nothing of the songs in the pubs about the vicious mermaids, the ones with the long hair that entrance you with their songs and beauty.

“actually,” he says, leaning back over, arms dangling in front of him to play with a net you had left in your boat from the fishing day prior. “we do it more for amusement than mating.”

“mating?” you ask, leaning forwards. you can feel embarrassment slap in the base of your stomach. why did this make you so nervous? the mermaid sighs, swishing around in the water ignoring your question.

a shimmer of white surfaces beneath the water, large and fish like with it’s shape. never have you seen a tail up so close, it’s breath-taking, and the stories and tales which are so sweetly sung don’t do it justice.

it’s as if he notices your stare and lifts his tail slightly out of the water, angling his hips so you can get a better view.

“you think i’m beautiful, don’t you?”

like a chill running over your body, you’re completely at a loss for words and frozen in your stance. small bundles of anxiety are in your throat. he knows he’s beautiful, he’s teasing you. 

the water splashes with a sudden movement, his torso is suddenly pressed against the boat, his eyes focusing on your neck.

"curious." he says, fingers inching forwards to touch the string around your neck. his bony fingers dance around your throat, fingernails dangerously scratching in their path. the mermaid stops, taping on the scale.

"very curious." he repeats.

what he's referring to is your necklace, the one with the scale bound by a silver string you had found in your first year of adventuring into the sea. it seems similar to the scales on his tail.

the way he's looking at you is almost as if you're his prey, he seems hungry to learn about you, play with you. you can't even muster up the courage to speak, to ask its intentions.

“would you like to touch me?”

“huh?” you blurt out, realizing his fingers are still playing with your neck.

this was going beyond anything you thought this would. all you wanted to do was see the beautiful creatures up close, let alone wanting to interact with one.

“i know you do.” he grins, maneuvering his body so as to move himself closer to you.

hesitantly, you lean forwards, arm reaching out before you. you press your index finger against the softness of his cheek, the shining blotches against his skin turn a light green with your touch. the mermaid hums, leaning into your touch as you explore the spans of skin beneath the patterns of glitter. you almost forget about the grip he’s beginning to tighten around your neck, his fingers exploring at the back of your hair.

you realize that your curiosity got the best of you as the feeling of being pulled forward startles you, followed by the slight sensation of drowning. everything is a blur, the water is dark and you can’t see a thing. you toss and turn, trying to grab onto anything to reach the surface. within a few seconds, you feel your body stopping the fight. there’s a flow of soothing energy running through your body, it’s calm, your arms slowly stop their flailing as the water engulfs you. 

a light enters your eyes, it seems like a long tail, glowing in the water, swishing about to come closer. you watch with squinted eyes as the figure draws near, it’s long fingers lacing themselves around your waist to guide you. the light glows brighter, as if the sun itself had sunken into the sea. 

there’s a tug at your waist as you’re pulled closer, your body pressing onto another. tingles run up and down your spine, your head spinning due to lack of oxygen in your blood.

just when your eyes adjust you see the mermaid before you, his eyes dark but gentle, searching your face for what you were feeling. the gem-like patterns in his skin are shining brighter than before, he's practically beaming at you.

what you didn’t expect your lips to be met with his own, his plushness cupping over your mouth to breathe into yours. 

you take in the breath offered, raising your hands to clamp around the back of his neck. it's like small pins enter your lungs, but with an overwhelming sense of ecstasy laced within it. you can feel it trickle down your whole body, and with every touch and movement of his hands, small blue patterns of glow are left in its wake but disappear just as fast. the last thing you remember is the feeling of his tail wrapping around your legs, pulling you further into the depths of the sea.

-

the light of the rising sun kisses your eyelids, your body stirring as you awaken. when you had left the night prior, it was midnight. blurs of kisses and pleasures thrash in your mind, your broken thoughts not being able to piece together. you can’t remember much of what happened. the only thing you can feel is your body being completely drenched, toes just dipping into the shore waves. you begin searching around you to get your bearings. all you feel is the plushness of damp sand and the cool breeze on your nearly naked skin. 

a small amount of pain is aching around the base of your neck, so you raise your hand to rub the sore spot. you soon realize that your necklace is gone, the one you cherished for years now is no longer circling your neck.

before you can even register the loss of your favourite thing, a sharp pinch startles you as you clamp your other fist. you bring your hand to your eyes, opening to see the offending cause. there's maybe dozens of them, small bright scales glistening as you move your hand back and forth. they're the very same ones that you had around your neck.

woah. you say to yourself, moving one the scales to the light.

as you turn the scale in the beams from the sun, you catch something in the corner of your eye. it’s your boat, and behind, those same pair of eyes you gazed upon the night prior.

but just as soon as you see them, they're gone. splashes and ripples are left behind.

taglist: @blankdyean @l3visbby @daddyjoonchua @nagitosluckycharms @abcdefgiwsmcty

#stray kids reader #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz #mythologicalseries #seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin x gn reader #seungmin x m reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x f reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x male reader #skz fic #hope yall like!!!!!

[teainthesnow]

@somerandomdudelmao has absolutely destroyed me with that latest Cass Apocalypse update so my brain decided to spit this out in return.

- - - -

Looking back, he realises that he knew – in some small defeated way – when he woke up that morning and his legs refused to leg that this was it.

There were many thoughts and emotions that ran through his scarily sluggish brain at that realisation.

Why here?

Why now?

He still had so much to do.

So much to prepare for.

This couldn’t... He couldn’t...

But he also knew that he could only accept it at that point because what else could he have done?

He still puts up a fuss when his brothers carried him into another room and bundled him up in blankets and pillows. They set him down onto Raph’s arm, and Mikey and Leo settle down on either side of him.

And that’s where he finds himself now. In a familiar yet vastly different turtle pile. And he is warm and cosy and comfortable despite everything.

He stares up at the ceiling and if he tries hard enough, and lies still enough, he can almost pretend that the crumbling roof above him is actually the chipped tiles of their old sewer home.

He takes a breath and he can feel the rumbling breaths of an alive and not robotic Raph beneath him. That there is no hair upon Mikey’s head as he presses against his side. And finally that the two hands that Leo clutches at him so desperately with, are both of equal size with familiar warm and unscarred scales.

He releases the breath. Barely paying any mind as to how long it had been since he breathed in.

The lair's ceiling is a comfort and the softly glowing green lights lull him further into peace.

And in the morning they’ll all wake up and get into their usual shenanigans again. They’ll go fight some villains or cause some chaos. Perhaps even get some pizza after.

And nothing is wrong.

And life is simply a slightly messy joy.

He would give everything to have it all back.

To not be where he is now.

Weak and usualess and... and dying.

He blinks, having to force his eyes back open, and he is back in the resistance base. And brothers are still clinging tightly to him.

They’ll be okay, he thinks to himself.

And, sure he is worried, and scared, and filled with so many other emotions that he doesn’t even have the time to try and describe or make sense of.

Despite that, however, he believes that he can trust his brothers.

Trust that they’ll keep themselves alive.

Keep the resistance strong and victorious.

And that they’ll beat the Krang and make them pay for every little thing that they did.

For all the loss, and destruction, and pain, and fear.

And then Raph would live again.

He would eat his honey, surrounded by his family.

April would keep them all going, keep them grounded while living the life she deserved.

Casey would grow up to be strong and brave.

Mikey would be a fantastic mystic warrior.

With Leo a beloved leader and respected ninja.

And it would all be okay.

There’s a slight bitterness, a simmering anger, that he won’t be there to see it. Won’t get to enjoy that well deserved rest, to see what freedom could bring or even live the life that he could barely even imagine anymore.

But at least they will.

And, to him, that’s all that really truly matters.

He closes his eyes, letting himself become enveloped within the warm embrace of his brothers.

He knows that his time has come.

Faintly he realises that he should say something. Some cheesy goodbye or emotional last words. Perhaps a grand gesture or maybe he could even steal Leo’s trademark and go out with the stupidest pun imaginable.

But, maybe, nothing is needed.

Perhaps, lying here, surrounded by his family, is the best goodbye he could give for now.

And maybe some part of him hopes, somewhere deep down, that this isn’t truly the end. That he’ll see his family once again.

He smiles.

Yeah, he thinks, this is enough.

He hears faint whispers in the air.

A comforting voice. Another friendly face.

Two softly glowing green hands reach out towards him.

He lets out a breath.

And reaches back.

#cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #Im having to many emotions right now #thank you cass #but also why cass #but genuinely thanks #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tarts&crafts

[quiet-psychic]

How do strangers perceive you?  

Full of golden light

The smell of soup cooking in the other room. Golden hour sunlight peeking in through the windows. Laughter that bounces against the walls and smiles you can't help but mirror. You're easy to approach. Your best feature is probably your smile. You don't mind looking silly if it makes people laugh. You're not easily embarrassed. You're calm and you make people feel at ease. You're a good listener because you really really care what they have to say. People leave every interaction with you feeling just a little bit more loved. You're a kind soul, and people can see that. You mean so much more to people than you know.

Tagged by: Saw it on the dash​ Tagging: anyone who wants to!!

#tag games #Lys - Light within Scales

[jewishrat420]

if you asked steve what his biggest fear was, you might get a number of different answers.

to his father, he’d say failure. not living up to the person he wants him to be, not fitting into the shoes he was born to wear. not deserving of the last name etched onto his gravestone.

to tommy, or carol, or all the people who didn’t bother to see past the persona he painted on like a portrait, he’d say falling. losing his crown— or worse, getting it knocked off his head. he’d pretend like these things mattered to him, and they’d pretend they believed him.

to nancy, before empty pools and empty bottles and empty promises, he’d say being alone. he’d whisper it into the crook of her neck, and the feeling of warm air would make her giggle. later, they’d remember that night differently. steve, as the last time he was ever honest. nancy, as the first time she wasn’t.

to robin, he’d say loss. not just losing her, or dustin, or anyone that steve has ever known, but losing himself. the real him, the person he worked so hard to find, buried under the bones of the boy whose skin he wore when he was scared.

to eddie, he’d say death. he wouldn’t need to explain it, and eddie wouldn’t ask him to. they’d trace each other’s scars in the moonlight, fingers catching on the dips and peaks in relentless reciprocation, and their tears would taste salty on the other’s lips.

at the end of the day, though, steve admits the truth only to himself.

his biggest fear, the one so great he refuses to say it out loud, is loving.

and not in the way you love a parent (or the way you wish they’d love you back), nor in the way you love a partner.

no. steve fears loving in the way he’s never allowed himself to love somebody, because of what he knows lurks under the surface. what he, above all else, fears down to the bone.

steve fears loving in the way that unleashes the beast that lives within him.

he fears unlocking the cage of his heart and freeing the birds inside. opening himself up, all of him, flayed like a patient on an operating table or like the broken body of the boy he grew out of.

he fears that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop.

more than anything, he fears that if he lets someone get too close, they’ll smell the rot on his breath. fears that once they do, he won’t be able to help but make them another victim of his insatiable, carnivorous love.

he fears that he will have as little control over it as they do.

so, steve does what he does best: he holds himself back.

lies, just a little bit, to every person he has ever met. keeps the fluttering wings of his heart clipped and confined in his chest.

and it works. it works, because he is surrounded by people he refuses to let himself love, and because they don’t know any better.

it works, because they’re alive. it works, because sometimes he is loved back.

it’s not enough. of course it isn’t.

but he knows better than to be tricked into a false sense of security. knows that no matter how much they reassure him, they don’t understand the severity of his desires. his wants, his wishes.

they don’t know the depth of his love, haven’t seen the way his cavernous love spans like a mountain range. they don’t know that the only people who have tried to scale it have died in the process.

the first people he ever let himself love, fully, truly, showed him how dangerous it is.

how dangerous it is to be loved by him.

but he didn’t know any better. he was just a child. born to love the first person he laid eyes on, unknowingly killing her in the process.

he didn’t learn until later on, of course. doesn’t remember the day the light left his mother’s eyes, doesn’t remember ever seeing it in his father’s. but he does know, as sure as the sun meets his skin like his heat is a welcome home to it: he was the cause of it.

so he hides it. keeps it locked up. bites his tongue and swallows the blood, waters the rot that lives within. feeds the beast.

because he’s not lying when he says he fears failure, falling, being alone. he knows loss. he knows death. he knows himself, above all.

and he knows what he needs to do to prevent it all from happening again.

so he smiles. hides the snarl. breathes through his mouth when the smell of rot is too strong.

he holds himself at bay. he protects the people he wishes he could love.

he lets the monster roar within and promises himself that one day, when his bones return to their gentle home in the ground, when they fit within the body of the boy who is unafraid to love, he will know peace.

(original thread)

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington character study #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington thread #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington study #steve harrington and his big bad feelings

[b00kdiary]

An Old Flame (VI Part 2)

Aemond Targaryen X Targaryen reader

Where two old flames meet again after 6 years and now as grown adults, their desires and feelings are in conflict with the civil war brewing within their families.

Warnings: swearing, violence, death and major angst ( mature content 18+)

Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen)

“It is said that as Targaryen’s we are closer to Gods than to men,” Rhaenyra said, her face tight as she beheld my brothers and me “and the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps”

I considered her words, considered the lesson.

The blood of the Targaryen’s, the blood of fire, is strong in you Y/N.

“But if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms we must answer to their Gods” I watch as a soldier carries over a large and coveted book, stopping before us. “If you take this errand, you go as messengers, not warriors.”

My lips thinned at the words, the commands of a Queen for peace during times of war and her eyes raked over me, definitive and absolute as if reading my displeasure.

“You must take no part in any fighting” She continued firmly, looking us all over “Swear it to me now, under the eyes of the Seven.”

Luke did not hesitate to step forward, his hand moving to lay over the aged cover and his head bowing obediently once before lifting and locking eyes with my mother.

“I swear,” He said solemnly.

Jace and I connect gazes momentarily, his weariness and ire a mirror to my own and yet as a Prince and Princess of the realm, we both step forward too.

“I swear,” We say in unison, our hands lying beside one another as our mother nods in grave approval. 

“Cregan Stark…” My mother begins, a small smile lighting her lips as she thinks to the Lord of Winterfell “is closer to your age than mine. I would hope as men you can find some common interest” She hands Jace the rolled and stamped letter, her throat bobbing slightly as she observes him.

“Yes, your grace” Jace replies coolly, his eyes softening when he notices our mother’s hesitancy.

It was no easy task to send your children into the world with targets on their backs.

“Storm’s End is a short flight from here” Rhaenyra continues, her eyes falling to Luke and I notice how tender they become as if truly seeing how small he was in comparison to Jace. “You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys and…”

Her gaze lifts to me now, sterner and more controlled and I imperceptibly lift my shoulders, straightening my back “Lord Borros is an eternally proud man, he will be honoured to host a Prince and Princess of the realm… and your dragons. I expect you will receive a warm welcome.”

“Yes, mother-“ Luke stutters, cringing “Your Grace.”

My heart melts at the boyish mannerism, the youth and greenness still coating his every feature.

“Yes, Your Grace,” I say softly, nodding my head once. My mother watches me, her gaze untiring and solid and I can see the words behind the stare.

Keep Luke and yourself safe.

***

The sky was darkening and clouding over with the threat of a storm.

A bad omen, if superstition was to be believed.

I don’t take heed to it, not as Valeria soars like wind through the open sky, her body lithe and graceful and every touch and smell of ice and nature spurs my body to life, washing away all the pain and grief that has festered within me these past days.

We were closer to Gods than men because of our Dragons.

Without them, we are nothing.

My eyes fall to Luke at my side, similar contentment gracing his face as he rides Arrax, the wind blowing through the ringlets of dark brown atop his head.

Arrax was significantly smaller than Valeria, his body pearlescent with rippling toned scales and muscles allowing his movement to be swift and undetectable. Where Valeria was fierce and cunning, Arrax was naïve and playful, still growing into himself, just as Luke was.

I slow down to a smooth glide as Storm’s End became a speck of darkness along the path and I steer Valeria beside Arrax, his movement slowing to allow us to fly side by side.

“We are nearly here,” I say, my voice louder than usual to accommodate for the distance “I will try my hardest to not interfere with your work Luke, I am here to ensure your safe return, the errand is yours.”

He nods, smiling but the look is sad, contemplative, as old as I’d ever seen Luke look.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, frowning “Are you worried?”

“No,” He says, his face grave as he shakes his head “No, I just-“

He looks up at me, and I can see the questions and confusion plaguing his mind.

“Luke, tell me” I urge, my hand coming to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, one that had come loose from my fishtail plait. He was fighting himself, and for as long as he’d been alive I could always tell when something was on his mind.

When he needed me to be honest with him.

“Is it true-“ He pauses, a cold harshness filling his eyes as he looked at me” Is it true you fell in love with Aemond… that you laid with him?”

The words surprise me, hitting me like a blow to the chest and I can barely neutralise my expression, barely holding in the way my face drops and my body freezes up at the accusation.

“It is true” Luke exasperates, gaping at me with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “You love him?” He demands and I flinch at the betrayal lacing his tone.

“Luke” I sigh, my face beseeching with him “You don’t understand, you weren’t there-“

“After what he said about us? How he humiliated us at the dinner?” He cuts me off, frowning so severely and looking at me like he didn’t even know who I was.

“You took his eye Luke and then laughed at the pig as if he did not have enough wounds to bear from you!” I hiss, my face tapering with ire. Luke’s face falls, and he blinks at me, surprise and slight shame coating his cheeks at my chide.

“Look-“ I sigh dejectedly, that pain seeping back into my body and heart tenfold “I will not claim that he is perfect, nor will I claim that loving him was something that I planned but, it happened and no one, no one, will shame me into regretting it.”

He frowns, his face softening at the way my voice shakes, at the way my body has begun to shake.

“But he is our enemy now” The words are confused, boyish and naïve “How can you love someone who stole everything? Someone, whom we plan to destroy?” Luke looked at me with heaviness, cocking his head as he observed me pant in painstaking breaths.

“You don’t get to pick whom you love Luke,” I say, my voice breaking and heart cleaving and he remains silent as I speak.

“You’ll understand yourself one day, you’ll meet a girl, or a boy depending on your taste, and everything else will fail to matter. They will become everything, every piece of your heart and soul will live for them.” I close my eyes, memories and feelings of the last month washing over me in tandem with the breeze.

“And yet you’re here?” Luke asks, his face scrunched with sadness “You chose to leave him behind.”

And he chose to leave me behind too.

“My heart is his yes,” I say, tears stinging my eyes “But our mother has my allegiance. Always.”

Luke nods once, solemn and understanding as if reading every inch of sorrow and heartbreak on my face, in my voice and knowing that whatever transpired, however much he disliked it, it has left me changed.

And broken.

I look away from that pity, hating how every person in my family seemed to be looking at me the same way now.

As if I was seconds away from shattering completely.

My mind draws back to late last night when my mother had knocked at my door, entering my bedchambers as I lay, utterly awake and plagued, in my bed.

“Mother?” I call, brows furrowing in concern as I lifted from the satin sheets. I take in her dark nightgown and the robe wrapped tightly around her body, I see the candle lighting her tapered and thinned face.

And then I see the vial in her hand.

I bite my lip, weary and confused as she comes beside me and seats herself on the bed, silent and grave as she turns to look at me.

As she hands me that vial.

“What-“ I open the lid with a frown, sniffing at the slightly brown liquid inside.

“Moon tea” She explains, her voice as gentle and quiet as a draft of wind.

I look at her, my heart stuttering in my chest as I hold the tea, slight colour heating my neck and cheeks at the knowing and sad smile that graces her face.

Gods, kill me now.

“I don’t know what to say” I mutter back, gulping to clear the dryness of my throat. My eyes flicker, awkwardness and discomfort suffocating the room as my mother watches me.

“You needn't say anything” She replies, pulling her robe tighter around her body to fight against the chill. “Y/N I am the last person who would ever reprimand you for losing your maidenhead, you may do with your body as you please. I see no logic in a woman’s virtue needing to remain intact for her to have value, it’s all fucking bullshit.”

I laugh lightly, startled at the profanity but still, my heart blooms at her words, comforted by the fact that my mother would never condemn me, would never view me as less than or sullied for lying with Aemond.

Even if some twisted part of my soul felt that way.

“But” She exhales harshly, her eyes so full of fatigue and I melt into the hand she presses to my cheek. “A bastard baby in times of war, especially one that hails from the other side… it wouldn’t be- “

“It’s the worst possible thing that could happen to me right now” I cut in, nodding gravely as she frowns while rubbing her thumb against my cheek. “I know mother, I think that having Aemo- having his baby, it would destroy what little shred of peace I have left… I could not survive having to fight against the father of my child.”

The words are a broken whisper, a tear slipping down my cheek at the thought and my mother grits her teeth as silver lines her own eyes.

I don’t wait for her to say anything else, not as I pluck open the vial and bring it to my lips.

I could still taste the bitter-sweet tang of the tea even now.

***

Vhagar was here.

My body felt like it was on fire and yet being consumed by ice simultaneously, like every function was falling to pieces within me.

"Y/N?" Luke said uncertainly as he stood beside Arrax, his soft brown eyes looking wearily and fearfully from the large and monstrous beast on the outskirt of the wall to Valeria and then me.

I tried not to vomit up the bile that rose in my throat.

"We go inside," I say quietly, my hands clenching to fists as I looked at the looming creature, shadowed by clouds and darkness yet again.

Aemond was here.

"We will give Lord Borros mother's letter, convey the need for his alliance and then leave." Luke eyes me sceptically, looking at the stiffness of my body and the blood that has drawn from my now pale face.

"We are here as messengers, not warriors," Luke replies softly, nodding.

I hear the soft crunch of gravel as he moves towards me and my heart aches at the small, gentle hand that envelopes mine for a moment, holding it tight with reassurance and comfort. I look up, my throat clogged and at the sweet tenderness in my little brother's eyes, I nod, steeling myself for the encounter ahead.

I was Y/N Targaryen and the blood of fire was strong within me.

I would not forget it.

I threw my braid over my shoulder, my back straight and chest raised as we walked towards the two large iron doors of Storms End, led by several armed and stoic guards as we ascended the steps up and into the sombre place.

I tried to calm my breathing, but even as my face cast itself into firmness and ice, my heart was a thrumming and bleeding mess, the ache so strong that it was a miracle that I could still walk as I did.

I inhale and exhale sharply several times as we entered the Great Hall, thunder and lightning mixing and raging in the skies above, striking through the vast and gloomy room for mere moments at a time.

"Lucarys and Y/N Velaryon" A deep voice announced "Son and daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Aemond's head snapped to the doorway.

Snapped to me.

My body trembled at the shock that lit his face and how his expression fell, a mirror to my heartbreak.

I allowed myself one moment to take him in. I looked over the dark leather, the long overcoat, the daggers and longsword adorning his body and the shadowy expression that coated his face.

He looked beautiful and terrifying.

The definition of a damning nightmare.

I exhaled bleakly, my breath stuttering as he stared at me, his body so stiff and tight that he looked as if he might snap. I felt the tension and conflict that plagued us as his gaze locked with mine, that one sapphire blue eye shining with veiled agony.

His attention swept down my body languidly as if needing to take in everything, to re-memorise me again as if I had changed since our last encounter.

I felt him graze down the steel bodice of my armour, the metal shining bright, the build contorted perfectly to my body like a second skin. He looked over the matching silver plates that covered from my wrist to my elbow, the chainmail dark and glinting underneath.

His eye tapers slightly at the weaponry I adorn, the two long daggers strapped to each thigh, the longsword sheathed at my waist, and finally the broad sword across my back.

Luke may have been a messenger but I was here as his defender.

"You have no idea how far I am willing to go to protect the ones I love."

I remembered the words as clear as day, and as Aemond's face darkened and his body seemed to hone into violence and fury, I knew he remembered those words too.

I look away from him, fortifying myself, desperately holding together every cry and scream and bellow of fury and pain that threatened to explode out of me.

"Lord Borros" Luke greeted genially, his voice echoing through the room as he stepped forward "I have brought you a message from my mother… the Queen" He amends his mistake quickly, and though it was not damaging, it made him appear green and feeble.

Aemond's smirk was a testament to that.

"Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the King" Ser Borros mused, laughing with brutal amusement as he looked between the two opposing Princes. "Which is it, King or Queen?"

I hold my tongue, biting it hard as he chuckles "The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." I notice Aemond's ire, that one scrutinising eye narrowing slightly as he looked at the Lord before us.

"What is the message?" He demands, and it does not take long for one of the servants to rush forwards handing the Lord the paper. There's a tussle and conflict regarding the Maester and some other nonsense I do not care for, not as my body shivers, undulating under the watchful eye of Aemond.

My stare falls to him again, as if drawn to him by some unknown higher power and I can barely contain the stinging in my eyes.

He was so close yet so far.

He seemed to realise it too, I watch his throat bob roughly, just as his long and slender hands clenched painfully into tight and white firsts at either side of him as if he was physically restraining himself.

"Remind me of my father's oath?" Lord Borros demanded with outrage, his dark eyes widening and my attention swayed "King Aegon came to me with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact."

My heart stops in my chest.

I look to Aemond, a gasp lodged in my throat at the tight and aggrieved expression he wore, the way his gaze couldn't meet mine.

My sore eyes then fell on the Lady beside him.

Marriage pact.

She was tall and slender, the satin dress she wore tapering against her small waist and flattering against her curved hips and full breasts. Her skin was pale and unblemished like fresh snow and her dark hair and tender eyes made her appear so perfectly put together.

Like a true Lady.

I felt my body heat, suddenly weighed down by the armour, weapons, and everything that made me so incomparable and different to the beautiful lady Aemond was now betrothed to.

"I will love no other, I will marry no other but you"

Cold, depthless wrath lit my veins, lit my soul as my face melted into a glare, so harsh and brutal that Aemond seemed to flinch in response. His face dropped, his gaze unwavering on me as he beheld my accusatory glower, as his eye seemed to fog with remorse.

"I would not be so easily swayed by the words of the Usurper or his brother, My Lord," I said suddenly, my voice sharp and honed with cunning and wit. Luke looked at me, eyes wide and I felt the air shift at the cordial yet wicked smile I gave the large and dark man before me.

"The prince often makes brazen and prolific promises," I say, eyes lighting with satisfaction at the warning that seethed in Aemond's face as I look at him momentarily "I can speak from first-hand experience and say that his words hold little value, no value in fact."

Lord Borros considers, his gaze flittering from Aemond to me with veiled intrigue, but still, I remained the picture of politeness and calmness.

Even as Aemond glared holes into my head.

"Be that as it may, Princess Y/N" Lord Borros said gruffly, frowning as he looked from me to my brother "If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed?" My eyes follow his, to the three girls standing beside the throne, all as lovely as the one that stood beside Aemond.

My heart lurched in reminder.

"My Lord, I am not free to marry," Luke said, stepping forward earnestly "I am already betrothed."

I felt a small smile of pride grace my lips at his conviction, and I knew that Rhaena was a lucky girl for having my brother as her soon-to-be Lord-Husband.

"So you come with empty hands?" Lord Borros says, his voice rough with dark humour and I feel my blood boil "Go home, Pup and tell your mother that the Lord of Storms End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

"I shall take your answer to the Queen, My Lord," Luke replies frowning, and even I am surprised by the utter ice and judgement that laces his harsh tone.

I frown, contempt lighting my veins at this ignorant and stupid lump of a man before me.

"We appreciate that you have given us time to speak, My Lord," I say, my voice laced with poisonous intent, and Lord Borros seemed to tighten as I inched closer, my heels clicking on the stone floor.

"But, my Queen shall remember this refusal, as shall I."

Everyone seemed to tense, even some guards lowered a hand to their weapons as I stood before the chaise, my head high and body strong, looking directly at Borros Baratheon.

Brutal satisfaction thrummed in me at the slight hint of uncertainty that shone deep in his eyes.

"And after we take back Kings Landing after we behead the Usurper and his family" My voice was so vicious, so terrifyingly steady as I spoke, "After we have avenged all those who have wronged us, My Lord, we shall set our sights here."

I looked around the dark, empty, vast hall, and I smirked at the utter horror that wrecked through his three daughters, and then his other daughter and then I quirked my brow once to Aemond in cruel acknowledgement, even as his face was as hard as granite.

"Make no mistake Lord" I bowed mockingly, stepping back as my eyes remained locked with the ever-furious Borros "Storm's End will burn and we shall see how proud you are when faced with fire and vengeance."

I paused, the corner of my lip tilting as I cocked my head, "You may find then that you rather prefer to be the Queen's dog."

He was seething, red and panting and wide-eyed as he watched me and yet there was little to be said to a young Princess, little to be done as I backed away moving to Luke, who watched me with both awe and dread.

"Come" I whispered harshly to him as I turned, and he made move to follow suit.

"Wait" I paused at that calm voice "My Lord Strong."

Luke and I turned in tandem towards Prince Aemond, Luke's face tapered with affable indifference while mine contorted with anger and warning.

Aemond did not dare look at me, not as he smirked, a slight tilt of his lips as he gazed solely at Luke.

A dragon eying its prey.

"Did you think that you could fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?" He questioned, his feet silent as he stepped closer to us, a calm storm etched onto his hard face.

"I will not fight you" Luke replied sternly, his head lifting as he faced him "I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge" Aemond mused, shaking his head and my breath stuttered in my chest at that look in his eye, the wildness.

I watch in shock as his hand lifts to his eye patch and he pulls it clean off, revealing the beautiful and striking blue sapphire in its place. Luke stiffens, his breath shallowing out as he beholds the red bruising and brutal scaring, the way that the stone embedded there glinted.

"No, I want you to take out your eye, as payment for mine" The words were razored and sharp, honed like a cutting blade.

No.

"One will serve, I would not blind you" He continued hoarsely, his hand making quick work of unsheathing a dagger at his right hip and I gape in horror as he chucks it forward, the metal scratching against the stone as it slides across and stopped before us.

"Aemond" I gasped, frowning bleakly but he seemed gone to the world, that festering and dark shadow of his trauma and soul consuming him entirely.

"Mm, I plan to make a gift of it to my mother," He hums, a small smirk lighting his face at the idea, pure gratification filling him.

His words surprised me, even after all I knew.

Aemond Targaryen had endured so much, and yet, it seemed his need for vengeance arose only to comfort his mother. To avenge the tears she shed and the pain she felt the night that he lost his eye.

Not to avenge himself or his lost eye, but to avenge her.

It would be sweet if not for how deranged and terrifying his revenge was.

"No," Luke said sharply, shaking his head. I could see the fear and dread lighting his young face and my hand shifted imperceptibly toward the dagger at my thigh, my mind taunting me with the question of choice.

Luke or Aemond? it repeated.

"Then you are craven as well as a traitor" Aemond whispered, so low and vicious that I knew this would not end well.

"Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!" I jumped in front of Luke as Aemond bellowed, two daggers swiftly in each hand as I panted before him, shaking from alarm at the man I scarcely recognised.

"NOT IN MY HALL!" Borros yelled out, and the guards around us unsheathed their own blades in response.

Luke was trembling behind me, blade in hand and guards were now armed and defensive around us both as Aemond angled his own dagger towards Luke, that cruel and vindictive glare a hard and unforgiving promise.

"Aemond please" I pleaded softly, my hands shaking fiercely, my two daggers still raised pointedly at him. His eye snapped to me and I saw them soften, saw them melt at hurt expression but it seemed even I could not stop this inevitable doom.

All he saw was Luke.

"The boy came as an envoy, I'll not have bloodshed beneath my roof" Borros stated roughly and Aemond seemed to relax at his words, shifting as he beheld us "Take Prince Lucerys and Princess Y/N back to their dragons."

I sighed deeply, palming my daggers back to my side as I looked wearily at my brother. He was putting on a brave front and I nodded once to him, signalling him to move with the guards before us. His eyes were wide and pupils dilated but still, he listened, moving swiftly towards the exit.

My eyes met with Aemond's once more, perplexion and anxiety coiling through me as I met that voided and ruthless stare back.

And as he twirled the dagger in his palm and sheathed it again at his side, never once leaving my gaze, I knew.

I knew that this story would have no happy ending.

***

“Fly, Luke!” I roared the words through the thundering and pillaging of rain and hail that enveloped us “You need to fly to Dragon Stone quickly, do not look back”

I could scarcely see for the rain and wind that plundered and wrecked over me, hailing down with utter fury as Valeria soared through the pitch-black and rupturing sky. The pounding of thunder was constant, and fear tanged through me at the sparks of lightning that struck and sang after every thrum.

I’d never seen the skies in such turmoil before.

My hands gripped onto Valeria’s reigns harder, the ropes soaked as well as my entire hair and body, and I shivered as it cut cold to my bones. Valeria was bigger than most dragons and did not struggle to wade through the endless flurry of rain and brutal attack of wind.

But Arrax was not so proficient.

The young Dragon was relentless and loyal, and sensing Luke’s fear and hearing his commanding words, he flew as swiftly and adeptly as he could and yet his body seemed frail in comparison to the storm that ravaged around us.

Valeria was grunting and restless and it seemed she too sensed the danger and foreboding aura that suffocated the air.

The unspoken and unseen threat that lurked in the shadows of night.

“Rȳbagon naejot nyke, Valeria (Listen to me Valeria)” I beseeched, running my hand down the wet and rough-hewed skin of her neck and she crooned roughly in reply, her body still thrumming and wings battling harshly.

“Dohaeragon nyke, se obey nyke, jiōragon īlva lenton (Serve me and obey me, get us home)” My words were almost fully drowned out but still, Valeria followed my command and soon we were sailing beside Arrax and Luke, the both of them fighting against the pull of the storm.

I grunted against the water that seeped over every pore of me and seemed to overwhelm my breath and senses as we flew. The darkness of the sky was unmarred, clouded and grey with nothing and no one but us and our dragons.

And yet, I knew, knew that we were not alone.

“Gods please,” I begged low and broken, a prayer for whoever was listening as we swept higher up, trying to get to a clearer vantage point “Please, protect my brother.”

It seemed the Gods were not listening or watching tonight.

Not as Valeria suddenly stiffened, growling with vicious intent and I stared with dread as Arrax did the same, their cries melding as one as they seemed to jitter, eyes snapping through the empty skies for whatever had them so unnerved.

And I didn’t know why, not until that large and foreboding beast roared inches before us, her endless body brushing close enough to touch us as it flew overhead.

I screamed as Valeria ducked down and coiled out of Vhagars destructive path.

“Luke!” I yelled for him, my heart lurching as I snapped my head back to see Arrax swiftly moving out of the way, his body fast and nimble. I could barely see my brother on his dragon but still, I knew he was wracked with fear.

“Fly, Luke!” I cried, my gaze flicking frantically over the endless darkness for Vhagar. “Fly home and don’t look back, please” Valeria cries out in response, feeling my fear and her body fights harder against the onslaught.

We glide down, moving swiftly to find Arrax and Luke, Vhagars looming figure an eclipsing shadow above us, so close that I could practically feel the fire in her blood.

I can faintly hear Aemond laughing, the sound was so cruel that I could cry.

I tug Valeria’s reigns, digging my knees harshly into her flesh and she accelerates forward, wings tucked in and head bowed low, using the momentum of her movement to speed ahead, closer to where both Arrax and Luke staggered ahead.

I looked back, panting against the onslaught of rain that clouded my vision, my heart stuttering at the small flashes of flesh and night that I could see through the gaps of grey-hewed clouds.

And the stark contrast of white hair against that endless prowling nightmare.

I grit my teeth, my eyes searching wildly for an escape, some way to outmanoeuvre Vhagar, one that would save us the fruitless battle of facing her head-on, I knew we would never win against the oldest and most seasoned of war dragons. 

I wipe at my face as I lift up to my knees, a small flicker of hope filling me at the tunnelling of grey mountain peaks that descend far below near the waves, narrow enough that Valeria and Arrax could wade through and force Vhagar to pull back, giving us enough time to lose her.

I don’t waste a second, pushing Valeria harder and faster than I had ever before, that depthless fury and hunger behind me edging us both on. I can see Arrax a few hundred feet before me, Luke a steady and small heap atop him, shivering and soaked entirely as he held hard onto his reigns. 

“Luke!” I called, screaming as loudly as I could over the perilous thunder and the near growling of Vhagar.

“Luke, go down! Go down!” I screamed the words until my voice ached and my body sank with relief as his head flickered back to me in acknowledgement and then downwards to that point before he was tugging on Arrax and they were burrowing deep down into that momentary sanctuary.

“Sōvegon ilagon (Fly down)” I tug so hard at the ropes that I feel it cut into the sensitive skin of my palm, but I barely acknowledge the sting of pain or the warmth of blood.

“Ilagon (down) Valeria.” She follows accordingly, a small hum in reply as she too tucks in her large-scaled wings, forcing all her energy to drop her down into the gap, where I could see Arrax and Luke now flying through.

Vhagar roars, a taunting sound, one that I imagined she’d done during the early days of conquering, revelling in the fear and helplessness of her prey. 

I would not let us be another victim to her. 

I would not.

I gasp out a harsh breath as Valeria’s onyx wings stretch out, the movement smooth as we are enveloped by the darkness of the surrounding mountain walls. I cringe at how close the fit was, a few inches further and this would not have been an option.

Plan B meant us having to face the open skies with Vhagar at our backs. 

I hear a grunt, a frustrated human rumble of anger and I immediately recognise that deep gravelled voice.

Aemond. 

I glance back, watching Vhagar huff as she rears back and up, pulling inches from smashing into the too-small valley that Valeria and Arrax now navigated. 

I guess size wasn’t everything. 

My heart was hammering so loudly I could hear it in my ears, and it took everything in me to not begin sobbing, to not break down into utter wrecking tears and pleas.

Why was he doing this?

“Ao enkagon nyke iā gēlȳn (You owe me a debt)” Aemond purrs the words as Vhagar flies along the upper lips of the valleys, her body so much larger than Valeria or Arrax, shadowing any light and trapping us with only the two close walls and the relentless lapping waves. 

“Aemond, please” I cry out, hot tears now mixing with the cold rain on my face as I implore, looking up at the laughing boy sitting upon his beast.

Not a boy, but a God.

That was what Aemond Targaryen took himself to be in this moment. 

“Please, Aemond stop this madness” I cried again, my voice echoing off the cleaved walls and above and yet laughter, cold and feelingless laughter greeted me in reply.

“Iā laes syt iā laes, eminna ziry aril (An eye for an eye, I will have it back)” His words flew through the treacherous weather and set in my bones with ice and dread.

“Taoba!” I cringe at the mocking tone, at the way he drags out and enunciates the word, cruel bellowing amusement following it. I stared ahead at Luke and despite not being able to see his face, I could practically taste his fear.

As I know he could with mine. 

A little further, we only had to go a little further and we could follow the dark waters back to Dragonstone. I knew that Aemond would not chase us for long and as soon as the weather calmed and the storm died down, Vhagar would not have the advantage of swiftness and stamina that we had. 

Just a little further, I could practically see the end.

“No, Arrax” I freeze at the startled cry that escapes Luke’s mouth, dying out on the wind. I squint my eyes ahead and my stomach coils as Arrax struggles under him and I can barely hold in my alarm as the dragon suddenly shoots up.

And fire explodes out from him, fanning over Vhagar. 

“No!” I scream, tilting forward and dragging Valeria up as Luke manages to stray his terrified dragon away from the wrath and endless teeth of Vhagar. 

Vhagar- who was now snarling, roaring with death and vengeance in her blood and soaring up with so much power towards my brother.

“No, no no no” I hear Aemond grunting, see his body writhing as he tugs at his ropes, as he tries to control her “No Vhagar, serve me Vhagar”.

“Please, please please” The sobs are a prayer on my lips, my throat drying and heart clenching as Valeria flaps up with such unyielding force that it was an effort to stay on, and I could feel her sorrow, her helplessness as we chased after the lion and lamb before us. 

Arrax was flying up, so feeble and young in comparison to the over-grown and ageless death incarnate that chased him, that was hunting him with need and want and hunger. 

Nothing could stop her now. 

I bit my lip to hold back my screams, Valeria following up towards the parting clouds, to that beam of light and openness that shone above, that would be far easier and safer to navigate.

“Go, Luke!” I yelled out the words towards him, yelled out with every atom of my being as he steered his beast and flew through a large and pillowed cloud to the heights above, “Don’t look back, just fly Luke!”

I prayed that he followed my commands, and prayed that he was soaring as quickly as he could, using the open sky and light to his advantage.

“Vhagar is bigger, but Arrax is faster” I whispered the words on repeat as we ascended higher, my mind trying to stuff down the terror and alarm that filled me as my eyes couldn’t locate that predator, couldn’t see that ever-large presence anywhere.  

I gasped as we glided through the parting clouds, my eyes burning from the intensity of the shining sun and the light that erupted through the clear blue sky.

It was ethereal and silent. 

I scanned around hysterically as Valeria slowed down to a stop, her own heart darting with mine, searching for Luke or Vhagar I wasn’t sure but only the endless sky and the white pillowy clouds greeted my gaze. 

“There,” I rasped at that flapping stationary figure, not 100 yards before me. Luke’s head looked left and right frantically, and I could see even from here how he shivered and trembled with cold and fear.

He was looking for me. 

“No, no, Luke go home” I clenched my fists tightly, desperate to shout out to him but I couldn’t risk revealing our location, couldn’t risk Vhagar getting to him before I did. Valeria shot ahead, her wings near silent against the soft breeze of cool air that ran over us as we neared closer to Luke.

I could see his face now. 

He glanced back at me as we neared, Arrax turning with a tug of his reigns towards me and my heart ached at the small relieved smile he gave me. His face was red and wet, yet I could see the hope in his soft brown eyes as he took me in, seeing his body visibly relax. 

He never even saw what was at his back.

I barely had time to scream a warning before Vhagar erupted out of the clouds, clamping her jaws straight through Arrax and Luke in one brutal snap that severed and tore through flesh and bone.

“No no no no Vhagar!” Aemond cried, as he desperately fought to draw her back, and yet the damage was done. 

I felt as if I'd been stabbed through the heart, I couldn’t even scream, couldn’t cry as I gaped down, gasping for my breath and shuddering as I saw the broken and bloodied chunks of Arrax falling to the lapping waves and dirty sands below. 

I choked, slumping forward from weakness as my throat clogged so painfully that every breath felt like inhaling glass. Valeria was jittering and bucking, moans and cries shrieking out of her mouth as she too mourned the loss of her kin. 

I lurched forward in surprise as Valeria jumped and molten fire ran through me as Vhagar crept closer, impending and silent as she glided to a stop just before me.

“Fly, Y/N!” Aemond was screaming at me, and he was so afraid, I could hear it, hear that unwavering terror as he tried and failed to get Vhagar under control. “Go Y/N, please, fly!”

I didn’t move, couldn’t move as I stared down that archaic and hushed beast, watching its heaving breath and looking in the depthless dark of its eyes as it considered me. 

Valeria did not move, did not baulk as we remained before the executioner. I closed my eyes, tears never ending as I ran a trembling hand down her spine, down the rough and unsteady flesh and my heart crooned at the small purr she gave in reply.

And I knew that she would face death with me.

Arms open in welcome to it as we faced our maker together. 

“NO, Y/N, NO!” His voice was broken and he was begging me but still, I waited for the end to come. 

It never did. 

I could feel the hot breath that ran over me, I shivered at it as my eyes fluttered open, sore from the tears that still ran. 

Vhagar was observing me, calm and considerate. 

“She knows that you are with me, feels that you are a part of me, and will never hurt you.”

The memory and its truth made me want to roar and burn and erupt with flames and fury and death. 

A sob broke past my lips as I tugged at a growling Valeria, my eyes looking away from that merciful monster as we swept and tunnelled downwards, towards what was left of Luke. I grit my teeth at the lashing wind, my body trembling so fiercely as we near the sandy shores below. 

Valeria’s feet barely touched the ground before I was wrenching out of the seat, tumbling and groaning as I slipped down her muscled body, my knees barking with pain as I collided with the floor. 

I was choking on my breath as I pushed myself off from my bruised knees and up, the sand gritting against my hands acting as a sure reminder that this was real. 

This was real.

My legs were so unsteady and my body was quivering as I rushed over to the waters lapping edge, a fragmented cry hollering out of me as I took in the torn flesh of a wing that lay in the gravel, dragged up by the current. 

“No, no” My voice was broken, utterly broken as I collapsed onto my knees before that torn wing, my heart similarly ripped into two. 

Luke was dead. 

“Oh gods, no” I cried so hard that I felt like nothing could compare to this pain, nothing could ever hurt me as much as I was right now. I gripped the wet and veined flesh, my body slumping forward and crumpling as I hugged it to my chest, as I sobbed with no restraint.

Sobbed for the brother that I had sworn to protect.

The brother I had failed. 

“I’m sorry Luke” I was gasping for breath as I looked up at the now perfectly clear and blue sky, “I am so sorry, I am so so sorry-“ I couldn’t breathe properly, not as my body coiled and shook and my blood felt like it was molten and toxic in my veins.

Luke was dead. 

“Y/N”.

I started at the wrecked and cracked gasp of my name and my body froze over at the trembling hand that fell onto my shoulder. My breath was caught in my lungs, ice coating my tongue at that desperate and pleading touch. 

“I’m sorry” Aemond whispered and I could hear the sorrow in his hoarse voice, “I am sorry, I did not mean-“

I shriek furiously as I yank my longsword from its sheath at my hip, my blood sweltering and hatred coating my heart as I dropped that ruined flesh from my hands, my knees turning in the brittle sand as my steel arched down before me.

Aemond huffed, stumbling and falling onto his back in the sand to avoid the mortal wound. His eye was wide with shock as he stared, lined with tears and redness as he lay sprawled and wet before me. 

“Y/N-“ He began, his face dropped with misery. 

I raised myself onto my feet, tossing my soaked braid over my shoulder before I stalked over to him, my glare like a knife edge and my heart hardened by bereavement.

“Unsheathe your blade” I demanded, my voice unrecognisable, dark and fierce with the promise of death. 

Aemond gawked at me, his chest heaving up and down as he panted, his head shaking despairingly as he took in the white-knuckled grip around the pommel of my blade.

“No.” He said softly, sitting up and shaking his head more sternly now “No, I will not fight you.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor” I spat the bitter words out, my eyes stinging as his face fell, as he heard me echo back the words he had said to Luke. 

“Y/N, I am sorry-“ His eye was so glazed, so full of misery and mortification. 

“You will take our blade and defend yourself, or I will kill you where you fucking lay, Kinslayer” I snarl, twisted pleasure filling me at the way he winces, the way his face physically recoils at the name.

“No.”

I growl as my sword comes pummelling down, every morsel of antipathy and retribution in my being driving it down, aimed straight for his fucking heart. 

I grunt as steel strikes steel, my face inches from his and he pants as he holds his longsword against mine. 

A fight it would be then. 

I rip off from him, the sound of scratching metal ringing around us as I parry back, watching Aemond rise hesitantly, his face beseeching as he stares at me. 

“Y/N please-“

I don’t let his pleas end, not as I twirl the sword in my hand, bowing it over his head in deft and thundering blows, so swift that most people would have been unprepared. 

But Aemond was not like most people. 

He shifted, hissing in a harsh breath as he weaved past that first blow, then the second and on the third, his weapon met mine in a singing cry as he blocked a swipe I had aimed for his shoulder, pushing it off swiftly and then dropping his weapon low to avoid the swipe I made for his legs. 

He did not defend himself well enough though.

While his attention remained focused on his legs, my left hand, armed with a long dagger, tore up from behind my thigh and I revelled in his cry as it cut up his chest to his collarbone, sinking deep into the flesh. 

He grimaced back, stumbling and clutching his chest and my mind spun at the blood that coated my dagger and the red that seeped through the wound and down his palm.

He snapped his head up to me from that oozing red, his face pales from the blood loss and contorted with hurt, his eye imploring with me.

And yet, I couldn’t allow myself to care. 

“Ao enkagon nyke iā gēlȳn Taoba ( You owe me a debt, boy)” I jeered the words back at him, scowling and despite how hard my heart was, it still cracked as he sighed in dejection, his blade shaking in his weakened arm. 

I didn’t hesitate to attack again, slamming my longsword in brutal and efficient strokes, and each hit pushed Aemond further back, his own sword now digging closer to his chest as I pressed down on him.

I reached back for my dagger again, a killing blow on my mind but Aemond wasn’t as careless, and I screamed at the brutal snap of pain that barked through my wrist, my knees buckling as the barrel of his dagger hit down against the join there and then once in a brutal blow against my rib. 

My head smacked on the ground as I collapsed, stars and shadows flooding my vision as I tried to keep my grip on my sword. I was slumped out on the sands, Aemond astride me now, our grunts and curses assimilating as he fought to disarm me. 

His sword was discarded, my daggers too and the broadsword strapped to my back was now trapped under the weight of my own body.

Aemond’s knees pinned down my writhing legs and held down the bucking of my body as I clawed at him with my left hand to free the hold he had on my sword arm. 

“Ah” I howled out as he began slamming my wrist down against the ground, once, twice, three times and my fingers uncoiled unwillingly, the steel clinking against the ground beside me and out of reach. 

“Y/N please stop” Aemond pleaded, gritting his teeth above me as I scratched at him, nails cutting through the skin of his cheek as he fought to pin my arms down beside me. 

I was screaming, bucking and thrashing and wailing with anger and grief and he clamped my arms down with his, blood soaking and staining most of him and me now. I fought against the death grip he had on me, and my eyes clamped shut as I sobbed. 

“Let me go, let me go, let me go” I shrieked, my voice cracking with cried moans and tears as I smashed my head back against the ground, weakening myself but still desperation had me helpless. 

“Y/N please stop, please stop” His head was lower now, and I could feel the brush of his warm breath against my cheek, and my body froze at the feeling of wetness against my lips. 

Tears.

I fluttered my eyes open, wheezing softly as my chest heaved wildly. I stared up at the beautiful blue eye, at the dread and remorse that laced through it, dropping with every salty and hot tear down his bloody face. 

“I’m sorry” He whimpered gravely and I was too frozen, too overwhelmed to even react as his head collapsed to my chest and his body began shaking and deep defeated sobs slipped past his lips.

I choked on my breath at the devastating sound, my heart bleeding and raw as every morsel of me fought to not envelop him in my arms and keep him there. 

Luke was dead.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I’m so sorry” He was frantically and wildly kissing against my neck now, tears soaking into my skin as he begged me, as he wept and hugged me, desperate for me to just hold him. 

Luke was dead.

A strangled moan escaped me as I pushed him off of me, and despite how he clung to me, I didn’t falter in my strength as I ripped myself off of him, crawling back and stumbling to sit a few inches away from him. 

“Y/N, darling, please” He rasped again, his eye shattering me as he reached a shaky and bloodied hand forward, reaching toward me as if he needed me. 

But all I could see was Luke’s blood on his hand. 

I flinched away from him, shaking my head, my lip wobbling as new and stinging tears gathered and fogged my vision and I saw him physically cringe at the sight, at that pain he had caused. 

“You killed him,” I breathed, my voice a soft and broken breeze, echoing in the utter silence around us. 

“I k-know, I didn’t mean to I swear-“

“YOU KILLED HIM!” I roared, my hands slamming down onto the sand with rage, loud sobs breaking through me as I glared at him, as I glared at him with such hatred. 

“He was only a boy” My voice cracked and I watched with contempt as his eye clamped shut momentarily, taking in every word. “He was a boy and you hunted him down for sport and you killed him.”

“I didn’t know Vhagar would act out, I thought I could control her” He was leaning forward on his hands now, frowning as tears fell from his eye. “I just wanted to scare him, I never wanted- I didn’t want-“

He couldn’t even say the words. 

“You killed him,” I say again, snarling it as I point at him “You are a kinslayer.”

He heaves at the word, his chest rising and falling so violently that I thought he’d vomit. 

He reached for me again, apologies and remorse falling from his lips, but he paused, seeing that seething and boiling loathing on my face, knowing that had a single weapon been within reach of me that I would have already emptied his guts beside that of Arrax and Luke. 

“I’m sorry,” He said again, his voice hoarse and guttural and I watched him, my heart throbbing as he slowly rose onto his feet, his sword sheathing at his side while his eye never left mine. 

“I never wanted to hurt you, I love you” I scoff at the sad declaration, my hands clenching at either side of me in the gritty sand “I do, I love you.”

“I hate you.” I spit, snarling and I don’t care how much hurt flashes across his face at my solemness, “I fucking hate you.”

He bites his lips, silver lining his one eye as he slowly steps back, retreating from me. His gaze never once leaves me, his eye taking in every detail of me, no matter how hateful and angry I was right now, I know he took in and memorised every feature that he could.

He knew that the next time we met would not allow such luxuries. 

I saw his lip quiver slightly as he stared at me, his eye holding mine with so much wish and need and yet my face did not falter from its leer, even as my heart shattered into a million more brittle pieces. 

He turned from me, his body weak and slumped and I saw his hand move back to clutch the wound at his chest, still leaking blood from the way he clamped down so hard against it. 

“You should kill me now while you can, Aemond”.

He paused at the cruel and void-less words, his body stiff as an arrow and tight with surprise and numbness, though he did not turn to face me. 

“Because I am coming for you.” The words were a vow, a ruthless and unbreakable vow as I rasped them and I could see him shake. “I will kill everything and everyone you love… your brother, your mother, even your sister and her babes will not be safe from me.”

His body straightens, locking at the mention of his family, at the mention of innocents like Helaena and her children. 

But Luke was innocent too. 

“I will not stop until they are all dead, and then after you are left vulnerable and alone in this world, I will come for you and I will make what you did to Luke seem like a mercy.” My voice splintered on the final words, singing between us on the wind and into the foreboding silence that reigned around us. 

Aemond remained stood there for a moment, stagnant and pensive as if considering if he had it in him to murder the woman he loved.

He did not. 

I scrutinised him as he strode away, his body limping and exposed as climbed up the ascending hill of sand, his body getting smaller and smaller as he moved further into the sloping mountains towards his Dragon. 

It would have been so easy to kill him then, so easy to throw him down and slice open his throat, or even run a sword into his back and through his heart.

But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe.

Luke was dead.

I bellowed out a broken and desperate scream to ease that building destruction within me, my entire being shattering and erupting as I cried, cried for everything that had been so mercilessly ripped away from me.

Valeria’s shrill cry rang out too, in bleak tandem with mine.

Two mourners lamenting the loss of everything good. 

_____________________________________

@uaze123 @lomllino @daddysfavoritesexkitten @backinwonderl4nd @mirandastuckinthe80s @zgzgzh @kentarosbabyaby @schniiipsel @curiouser-an-curiouser @doingfondue @tempo-rary-fix @colonelwafflesoftheorder @m00n5t0n3 @crispmarshmallow @caspianobsessed @moni-cah @loomipee

#aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond smut #enemies to lovers #team black #hotd 1x10 #aemond stannies #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond angst

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

I saw in some sci-fi fiction that there are some small spaceships that just a single person can use. These things are slim and you are basically lying down because it's literally that tiny. The only thing is, I've only seen these used for travelling short distances (i.e. within view) / combat. I was wondering if I could use such a sleek and tiny design as a normal spaceship that can travel FTL. I'd say travelling 10 light years would take just a single minute. Exactly how advanced would tech like that need to be? In this way, a larger ship or crew isn't necessary if you have no cargo you can't carry on your person (helped by making use of shrink rays). Is there any example of a sci fi civilisation that you think could have such tech that can do that I could draw inspiration from or have an idea of what how advanced I'm trying to do?

Tex: A Doylist explanation for these might be that they are analogues to personal vehicles, so are limited by the writer’s and readers’ expectations of personal vehicles, such as the need to use chemical fuels in order to use them. FTL, as a general rule, relies more on momentum than it does acceleration - our current theoretical models mostly rely on the use of exotic particles to fuel suggestions such as the Alcubierre drive, Krasnikov tubes, etc (Wikipedia).

Ten light years in a minute is easily traversed under these conditions, particularly if the technology were perfected to the point of mass production. This seems to also function as your unit of measurement, so you would be able to use this for all technologies of the same type within your worldbuilding. Because of the nature of FTL drives, they would not be unreasonable large (think of how much we’ve scaled down modern computers!), and you could conceivably compare them to the gasoline engines that are currently in the majority of our modes of transportation today. There are many, many, many variations on the theme of spaceships, so I’ll list some of the major franchises that have percolated popular perception of this technology for comparison:

Star Trek, Category: Spacecraft classes

Star Trek, Category: Starship classes

Battlestar Galactica ships

Stargate Tau’ri fleet

Stargate, Category: Hive ships

Stargate, Category: Spaceships

Star Wars, Starship (Legends version)

Wootzel: For examples in media, you may want to check out the TV Tropes page on FTL in media, and maybe even the Analysis Page on the same (this one gets dense at first, but further down the page there are a lot of examples of “types” of FTL tech that other creators have used). 

If you want to have small ships that are capable of FTL, and you think it’ll serve your story or something about the theme of your world, then do so! Just pick and choose whatever rules and limitations you want in your world that suites you. You can pull inspiration from other works, or just think about what will work for you and make up your own conventions. Just note down what the tech requires and what limits it, and keep that consistent in your story so you don’t contradict yourself, but otherwise do whatever you’d like.

#google submitted #technology #spaceships

[imababblekat]

Hyrule's Last Mandalorian

Sidon stood before the railing, looking down into the court yard where tired children retreated to the wade pools, followed by their parents and leaving very few within his wide gaze. As the sun had finally set, the glow of the luminous structures that made up the domain lit, casting an ethereal light on the majestic statue of his dearly missed sister. A heavy sigh left him, leaning against the cold stone railing and gazing down at the back of Mipha's statue.

"Oh Mipha, if only you were still here. You would know exactly what to do, I'm sure of it.", he mumbled, thinking back over the events of the past two weeks.

The Domain was put into a momentary alert as the sounds of a rushing steed came barreling across the main bridge. It wasn't till Sidon had rushed to the scene did he see what the guards had shouted towards with raised spears. A person, clad in armor he'd only ever heard legends of, had fallen off their horse, kneeled down on the ground with their front covered by their cape. Sidon was ready with his royal soldiers for whatever weapon this deadly mythical foe had lying underneath, but not at all for what they truly were hiding. A small child was cradled in their arms, and despite the helmet covering their face, the person's heavy concern for the childs health was easily conveyed in their broken voice. Sidon stayed by them the entire time the child was healed, telling the elders he would keep an eye on them while they stayed in the Domain. While some of the elders had been opposed to the capable prince being left to watch the stealthful killer, Sidon was more curious than worried about possible harm.

A Mandalorian. He'd only ever heard tales of them and their formidableness as warriors. Despite them having been well known before the Calamity, they were still as aloof as they are now. The only difference being that this mysterious person Sidon tried his hardest to befriend and make feel welcomed, might very well be the last of all Mandalorians. No one had seen one since the Calamity a hundred years ago; having thought to have all been wiped out during the tragedy that seemed to leave none unaffected across Hyrule. Yet, this Mando had shown up on his homes steps, in pain and grieving over a child that was not even their own. It was so different from anything Sidon had believed them to be. Ruthless killers who tore villages apart and rumored to steal your soul and turn your lifeless corpse into one of their own. Not a people who pleaded for the help of others to save a life they care so deeply for to where they'd ignore their own injuries till the other was first saved.

Still deep in thought about this new acquaintance, Sidon hadn't noticed the person on his mind appear next to him till they had silently spoke.

"I wanted to thank you.", they calmly stated, helm pointed towards Mipha's statue and paying no mind to Sidon nearly jumping out of his scales.

With a webbed hand lightly clutched over his heart, Sidon cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

"O-oh? For what might I ask?"

Only now did they turn towards him, cape gracefully swaying just over the Domains light layer of water across the floors.

"For your kindness."

This got Sidon's attention, and he too turned to give them his full attention. Ignoring the skip in his heart as the luminous stone's glow glossed over their silver armor, he urged them to explain what they meant.

"You could have turned me away. Taken the child and ordered me dead on the spot. But you didn't. Instead, you allowed me into your home. Even allowed me to stay and rest up till not just the child, but I as well are fully healed. Why?"

This caught the Zora prince off guard. Though he knew of the horrific tales told about the Mandalorians, he never had actually considered how they must feel about it, or the treatment they would receive across Hyrule. Had he been the first person to ever shown them kindness? This not only sickened the prince, but deeply saddened him as well.

Reaching forward Sidon caught the Mando by surprise when he'd gently grasped their smaller gloved hands in his much larger ones. To his surprise and relief they hadn't pulled away. With full sincerity in not only his tone, but expressions as well, Sidon told them why he hadn't thrown them to the dirt or ended their life right there with such a rare and easy chance.

"You came to us seeking help. Turning you away or committing worse would break this already broken world even more. If I am to be completely honest as well, not helping you when you clearly needed it most, would have left me not able to live with myself. I want to help others, and I believe all is deserving of a chance. Especially those who were never given one."

The light melody of Zora's Domain accompanied by the soft falls all around filled in after Sidon's confession. The Mandalorian made something akin to a light hum, turning to look to the side at the courtyard and main entrance of the Domain. In their silence, Sidon couldn't help the subtle butterflies that began to arise within his chest. He wondered what they were thinking, and wished he could read their facial expression to tell. But the curbside helmet with it's intricate designs blocked the world including him from ever knowing. With that, he also began to think of what they looked like beneath there. Were they Hylian? Rito? Gerito? Goron? Or perhaps even Zora? Did it honestly matter? No, not to him. However, he did wonder how the glowing stones of his home would look upon them. Sidon imagined they'd look ethereal, other worldly. How their eyes must shine and sparkle and how they must light up when they smile. It's not the first time Sidon tried to imagine what they appeared like, but in a tender moment such as this, he quickly felt himself become flustered and had to resist the urge from bashfully pulling his hands away as not to seem rude while they were still in thought. Instead he choose to focus on his breathing to hopefully steady his quickening heart and the warmth of his cheeks as they finally turned their gaze back towards him.

With a calm voice he'd come to forever recognize, Sidon felt an emptiness as they gave his hands a soft squeeze before pulling away to leave for their temporary room, leaving him with a statement that left him confused but also all the more curious about them.

"My people had a saying. This is the way. But perhaps, you have shown me a new one. . .Goodnight, prince."

~xXx~

#prince sidon x reader #sidon x reader #prince sidon imaigne #sidon imagine #botw imgaine #botw x reader #loz #botw #crossover #mandolorian reader #request #@creativesoultheskeletongirl #imababblekat's writing

[myhauntedsalem]

The History of Zombie Road

Zombie Road has quite a reputation as a place where shadowy figures and other non human entities have long been reported.

Gregory Myers of the Paranormal Task Force presents this piece on the history and deaths of one of the most haunted locations in the United States.

Within the urban sprawl of St. Louis lies a remote area called “Zombie Road”. Urban Legend tells a variety of eerie tales which include being host to ritualistic and occult practices which spawned inhuman and demonic entities while other tales tell of those who met their peculiar demise and still roam this desolate road in the afterlife.

“Zombie Road”, real name “Lawler Ford Road” is about 2 miles long through a valley of forest oak land hills and ends near the Meramec River in the Glencoe, MO area where it meets the newly established “Al Foster” trail.

The history of this area goes back to ancient Native American times where this was one of the few pathways cut by nature over the centuries through the bluffs to the Meramec River area just beyond them. It is believed that travelling ancient Native Americans used this pathway for foot travel and also quarried flint here for the making of various tools and weapons.

In the early 1800’s a Ferry (boat) was operated at the bottom area of this passage at times where a ford was located in the river for settlers and travellers to cross the Meramec River to the other side where the Lewis family owned much of the land. The origin of the road name is unknown to historians even today.

Ninian Hamilton a settler from Kentucky was the first settler to occupy and own land in this area in 1803. After his death in 1856, James E. Yeatman a prominent St. Louis citizen, a founder of the Mercantile Library and president of the Merchants Bank acquired the large parcel of land that Mr. Hamilton settled and owned.

The Pacific Railroad completed their railroad line from St. Louis to Pacific along the Meramec River in this area in the 1850’s. Della Hamilton the wife of Henry McCullough, who was Justice of the Peace for about thirty years and Judge of the County Court from 1849 to 1852, was struck and killed by a train in this area in 1876.

The first large scale gravel operations on the Meramec River began at what would become Yeatman junction in this area. Gravel was taken from the Meramec River and moved on rail cars into St. Louis. The first record of this operation is in the mid-1850’s. Later, steam dredges were used, to be supplanted by diesel or gasoline dredges in extracting gravel from the channel and from artificial lakes dug into the banks. This continued until the 1970’s.

From about 1900 until about 1945, Glencoe and this area was one of the resort communities of the Meramec River’s clubhouse era. Many of the homes were summer clubhouses, later converted to year round residences then lost to the great local floods of the 1990’s.

Some say this is called Zombie Road because the railroad workers who once worked here rise from their graves at times to roam about. Some insist that they have heard old time music, seen anomalous moving lights and other ghostly sightings from that forgotten era. Another tale tells of a patient nicknamed “Zombie” who escaped from a nearby mental facility never to be seen again. His blood soaked gown was later found lying upon the old road later named after him.

Other tales include one of an original settler who met their demise upon the railroad tracks. Another includes a pioneer who lost his wife in a poker game then went back to his homestead and took his own life. Many still report seeing these lonely spirits even today.

During the age of Prohibition a nearby town housed speak-easies and the summer homes of well known gangsters. Tales tell of individuals who were dealt a bad hand by such public enemies resulting in their permanent placement within the ground or bordering river to never be seen again.

The bordering river has tragically delivered many to the other side through the years. Children and adults alike have taken their last living breath within its dangerous waters before being found washed up on its shores. Even during this new millennium, several children met their demise one day within its banks.

The railroad still shows “Death hath no mercy” as many have met their final fate upon its tracks. Local lifelong residents can still remember multitudes of tragic occurrences dating back to the 1950’s. One of these occurred in the 1970’s when two teens were struck by an oncoming train. Some of the local residents were used in search parties to find the body parts scattered about the area.

During the 1990’s a mother and her five year old child were crossing a bridge when an oncoming train met them. The mother’s last action was pushing her five year old child off the bridge. The engineer was able to stop the train and save the child. Although the mother died, this is still one of the happiest endings to a story this area will provide.

More recent past has seen this area become refuge for those wanting privacy to practice the occult and other rituals. Who can really know what true doorways to the darkness or unknown were opened here.

During the 1960’s a couple in their late teens were on top of the bluffs overlooking the road below. The male somehow lost footing and during the fall caught his face in a fork of a small tree growing out from the side of the bluff. His face and scalp remained while the rest of him fell to his death upon the road below. Others have also met their demise from the high bluffs above.

The area has also seen its share of suicides and murders. In the 1970’s a hunter stumbled across a car still running at the end the road. Closer inspection revealed a hose running from the exhaust pipe to the inside of the car with the driver slumped over the steering wheel.

One can agree that there is no lack of legends or tragedies surrounding this area which can explain the bizarre and eerie encounters of those who visit. I was one who became truly intrigued and attracted by such lore and was determined to either prove or disprove the Urban Legends surrounding it.

Missouri Paranormal Research (now a division of Paranormal Task Force, Inc.), the paranormal investigative team I belong to, investigated this area on several occasions. Our visits converted many true skeptics into true believers of the paranormal. I was one of those the first time and even remarked “This was going to be like Winnie the Pooh looking for a ghost in 100 Acre Woods” prior to descending onto the old road.

Within an hour several people observed a human sized shadow figure as it descended upon them from a small bluff nearby. It then ran onto the road, stopped, then disappeared into the darkness of the night. Throughout the night others heard unexplained voices, were touched by the unseen and witnessed the unexplained. This was one night that everyone could conclude that indeed some Urban Legends actually are real!

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