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#glimmer going into a murderous rage
glimmuhr · 5 months
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remember when glimmer went apeshit at the bloodbath,,,, yeah, me too
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aethernightmare · 2 months
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#i'll be real i've been feeling some kind of way this week and needed this reminder.#the refusal by him to go to therapy is also a conscious choice.#the refusal to at least attempt to get sober is a conscious choice.#the refusal to still pin blame on you when you're not the addict and you didn't lie or cheat in the relationship is a choice.#the refusal to improve any area of their life (job - therapy - medication - better friends - an apology to those they hurt) is a choice.#so much of what i mourn is that my partner was genuinely a different person before the substance abuse.#i don't know who this current man is but it feels like a stranger who murdered my husband and stole his body.#because the man i loved might as well be dead. i don't even see glimmers of him anymore. not towards me or other people.#there's no comparison anywhere. not even in appearance.#i can't even know if he'd go back to the way he was if he got sober - because it was impossible to get him to quit more than 3 days.#if it wasn't alcohol it was weed. if it wasn't weed it was alcohol. often blended with days of not logging off mmos.#like none of these things in a vacuum are bad but his relationship to them at the expense of everyone and everything else was.#to this day he thinks i 'left him' when -in an inebriated rage - he told me to never talk to him again. so i haven't.#when he was the one who burned our bridges - so it's also his responsibility to improve and reach back out. even just as friends.#which he said he'd do - but never has.#he may not even remember some of the awful things he said and did to me at the end because he was always getting blackout intoxicated.#but as a result he thinks i was the one gaslighting Him when his memory was full of holes. because he thinks he's above being that affected#he probably thinks i'm manipulative for wanting him to get help and do these things.#but if he actually went to therapy (and was honest) or attend AA he'd see these are the professional steps - not ones i 'randomly made up'.#idk. some days are harder than others to deal with the absence and the silence and the trauma he left behind. today is one of the hard ones#a letter to my ex
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blackopals-world · 7 months
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Lost my Head
FemNoble!Yuu x Malleus
FemCelestial!Yuu x Lilia
She had reincarnated once more. Once upon a time, they were very similar. But her rage. That primordial rage. It hasn't disappeared.
(Feeling really spooky today. Feminine rage sounds amazing. Let's get bloody)
Warnings: Murder, cannibalism (does this even count), blood(duh)
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The egg was due any day now. She could feel it. After so long it was nearly time.
Yuu gazed lovingly at the jet black egg. The most perfect egg in the world. So shiny and smooth.
It was more oval than round which meant it would be a boy. A beautiful little boy.
A few years ago she found the poor thing after his parents died. She would make it right. She would make sure let their legacy die.
She would do her part to make sure that dragons remain. Humans would not fulfill their mission to slay them all. She may have outlived her parents and she may be young but she would remain.
Now she had an egg.
"I wonder if you'll see me as a sister more than as a mom. It's okay either way. You will be closer to my age than anyone is comfortable with. That's okay too." Yuu held the egg above her in her makeshift next.
She wished she had a better nest but humans found the last one. So many treasures were robbed from her not to mention the pelts she used to keep the nest warm.
How long had it been since she'd seen another faerie? Since he isolated herself here. Since she's left the cave. Since she'd eaten.
It can wait. She'd return when the egg hatched.
But it wasn't safe right now. Not with the war.
But she had hope. It won't be long now. Her Majesty would stop them.
Yuu usually dreamed of nothing. Too tired from attending to the egg and surviving to do so. But that night as she wondered what the queen was like and how nice the palace was compared to a dusty cave she dreamed. She dreamed of a life of fancy dresses, extravagant galas, warm beds, glimmering jewels, and never-ending feasts. The child she hatched by her side was treated like a prince and all was well.
It was a childish dream. One that only a child like herself could make. Even dragons dream of being a princess.
When morning came she stretched her wings and peered out of her cave.
Noise.
Human noise.
She could smell them on the wind.
She couldn't let them find the nest.
Quickly she intercepted them fully intent on driving them away. She flapped her wings to create gusts to blow them away and blew what flames she could create at their feet.
It was foolish of her in the end. To try to stop knights trained to kill dragons much older than her. She was nothing but a fledgling to them.
She escaped with a torn wing and sword in her stomach.
She had to get back. She needed to get o the egg before-
In her cave, a separate knight from the group stood. Shreds of eggshell crushed between his fingers and the scent of blood.
"The she-dragon has returned I see." He said wiping his hands clean.
"My egg..."
"There is no egg."
"My...baby. You killed my baby!" She screamed.
"Don't worry, you'll join them."
The knight raised their sword to the already injured dragon. The faerie was already hysterical as she searched for the remains of her child, her only remaining family.
...
Yuu was very hungry.
Did you know that in the wild some animals will starve themselves while hatching eggs? Snakes being one of them. However if their young die they will immediately go back to eating.
...
In her rage, she didn't remember much of what happened next. She was just so angry. Her claws tore him open. Then the scent of his blood was just so good. And she was so hungry and so tired.
But his eyes. His vacant bloodshot eyes kept staring so she...ate them too. And she couldn't stop so she ate his head.
Blood covered her face like a lion's after digging into a fresh kill. It ran down her face and chest as she licked her lips.
"I ate it. I ate his head. Its all gone. Hahaha! Its all gone! All in one bite! So tasty!" Her mind was gone as well. Never to return.
Hungar and grief melded together and that night a scourge was created. A rampaging she-dragon devoured every human in sight. She fashioned a crude crown for herself out of bone and danced in the moonlight with headless bodies in a mock waltz. She sang and she wept. She called out for her baby and laughed. She had truly lost her mind.
And when morning came. She was leaned against a tree. Her hair matted with dried blood. Her skin dyed red. Her gapping wound open for all to see. And dead as can be.
The general of Her Majesty's army arrived at daybreak to examine the carnage. He didn't see the monster that the humans saw.
He saw a poor little girl, caught in a war and battle not her own. She never wanted any of this.
War mandatory monsters of everyone. At least she went out fighting like a true soldier.
Perhaps now he would look back and say he had done something wrong but he used her. He made her into a martyr an example to his soldiers of what they were fighting for and what they should strive for. Her story became immortalized as " The Red Princess and the Knight Feast"
It was later that day a small pip was found after being stolen after their hatching. It didn't take long for everyone to connect the dots.
The child was adopted by one of the commanding officers shortly after. The kid eventually was named The Red Prince after a haunting event. Maybe it ran in the family.
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The goddess knew on sight that the girl was dangerous. Her soul was full of rage, greed, and hunger.
She had chosen not to rest and a soul left unfulfilled was doomed to return.
She was drawn to Malleus. Her son had no idea what was getting into. And of course Malleus fell for her.
She couldn't bear to separate them. She pitied the poor girl. She had no idea who she was but the goddess feared the day would come when she did.
Still, a forthright girl like that who was the very picture of nobility suited her son well.
She told her husband of her fears but Lilia only nodded and smiled. He was ecstatic by the development. He believed she was perfect.
Maybe she was being too harsh. She understood the girl, a mother's love is dangerous after all.
"Sebek, put this annoying man in the trebuchet." The princess said crossing her arms.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU DONT GIVE ME OR-" Sebek clammed up when he was glared at over the lady's fan.
"Do it." She said emphasizing the T in a voice like venom.
Yeah, the goddess knew why Lilia liked her so much.
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taintandviolent · 1 day
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Okay but what about jealous reader killing James so he never leaves her 🥸
warnings: short drabble - sorry!! physical aggression, jealousy, murder, mentions of gore, james being cold. loosely uses the concept in AHStories where ghosts can still experience 'death', but kind of modified. there isn't a long of a cool down period, if you will.
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“What do you mean a dime a dozen?!” Your breaths came out in uneven, angry pants, fists clenched tightly at your sides. After everything, after the weekend you’d spent in his arms, with his large but nimble fingers petting your cunt like a kitten, after all of that – you were a dime a dozen. 
“Yes,” he purred. “Don’t be foolish, dear. Think about the sheer volume of women that walk through my doors – you think you’re the first that I’ve courted?” 
You clenched your teeth. He had a point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it – he had a point. Surely, you weren’t the first, but by some deluded thought, you hoped you had been special. 
You took a running start, put both hands out in front of you, and pushed him backwards onto the bed. His interest seemed piqued, but he was a master in bluffing, in keeping his cool and remaining impassive. You hated that. You were on top of him, thighs on either side. You leaned down, and kissed him. As passionately as you could, a desperate attempt at changing his mind. 
Much to your dismay, he did nothing. 
“Damnit, kiss me back!” You howled and beat at this chest with closed fists, hammering his pectorals. You gripped his face hard and yanked it towards yours, smashing your lips hard against his. Still, nothing. His lips didn’t so much as twitch underneath yours. It was like kissing a corpse. You pulled away, chest heaving. 
“Oh, little ember, you are so full of rage, it delights me.” 
“So, I’m special?” you asked. A glimmer of hope. 
He seemed to consider this. Truthfully, the answer was yes. James had decided that the moment you challenged Elizabeth, completely unphased by the power she exuded – you had been ready to fight there in the lobby. Had James not drug you away, there surely would’ve been a scuffle. He’d decided it the moment that you two got back to the hotel room and you devoured him, hungrily, angrily, demanding that his attention be on you. He merely wanted to see how far you’d go with that anger. 
So, he shook his head. It was a small, subdued movement, accompanied by a patronising smirk, but it was a confirmation nonetheless.
“How DARE YOU!” 
You loved him. He’d made you love him and he’d just tossed it aside like some casual one night stand. How many women had he been with? The thought made your stomach clench with nausea. Twenty? Thirty? A hundred? More? He was the handsome, alluring owner of a lavish hotel, of course he’d gotten his dick wet in countless women. You were nothing. 
Oh but you were. Your teeth clenched, molars squeaking against each other as you got up off of him. 
“Stay there,” you said coyly. “Stay there if you care about me at all.” There was a pitiful tone in your voice, intentionally. 
You reached behind your back, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. You unclasped your bra, and dropped it, too. Before you returned to the bed, you grabbed a large, mean looking knife off his table of tools. Though you tried to cover it with demureness, the rage burned in your eyes, anger roiling in your system like boiling water. You straddled him again. Whether or not James had seen you grab the knife, you didn’t care. You pressed it against his neck, just above his neck scarf. 
“Say you love me. Because I know you do.” 
“Mm, no.”
The glinting tip of the knife punctured his skin where you thought his heart would be and you pushed deeper, gritting your teeth. Instead of screaming or begging for mercy, James let out a throaty groan, akin to the ones you’d heard when you’d sucked his cock. Furiously, you continued stabbing, plunging the knife deep into his chest over and over again. Warm blood splashed onto your face, dripping heavily down your neck. The room was filled with the heady scent; hot and irony and you screamed through your teeth, cramming the knife as far down into his body as you could. 
You took your hands off the hilt, and pressed them against his cheeks. His skin was cold already – but then again, he’d always been a few degrees colder than you. You’d never figured out why. And you supposed you never would now. He’d never get the chance to tell you. He’d fallen still, though his cold, soulless eyes were still locked on yours, watching your every minute expression. 
He’d known all along that you’d had it in you. You were special, delightfully so. None of his other pickups had been brave enough to kill him. Most of them meek and mild, like soft little lambs with a pathetic bleat. Elizabeth might’ve – but she never got the chance. 
James blinked, and exhaled a low, syrupy breath. His lips upturned into a smirk. “Cathartic, isn’t it?” 
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misskittyhart · 2 months
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Chapter 5:
Hell’s Bells and Shot Gun Shells
Warning: violence/ death/ talk of abuse
Kitty felt the sun on her skin. She felt sleep drunk as she stirred last. Her mind felt fuzzy. What happened last night? It all seemed like a blur right now. She vaguely remembered the nights events, from the killing to the…oh. Her face went scarlet.
Alastor smirked over at her watching as she came to reality from her sleep drunk haze. “Morning.” He said leaning in the door way of the bed room.
Kitty startled hearing his voice suddenly. “Morning…we…” she started.
He grinned at her “we did~” he seemed quite pleased with him self. Kitty flushed darker. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh don’t be so embarrassed~” he teased her walking into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He took a sip and rustled her hair treating her like a child
She looked up at him seeing that damn smile on his face. It was like she was tormenting her now. He leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. His sudden tenderness made her feel conflicted. This was the man grooming her to be a murderer. Taking her natural desire for bloodlust, and twisting it in his hand to suit his needs. Who she knew for a damn fact was manipulating her to his will. But right now she wanted to believe the lie he might actually like her.
“There’s more coffee and some breakfast in the kitchen if you so desire~” he said to her leaning up to his full height and looking down at her
Kitty moved slowly out of bed feeling, his gaze on her. It felt weird, but nice? She felt conflicted. Quietly she moved to get dressed. “I do need to go back to the city today, I have to preform tonight at 6.” She said dressing fully.
He hummed lightly “and here I thought I’d get to keep you to myself. Ah well, responsibility and all that.” He said waving his hand
Kitty smirked at him leaning her chin in the palm of her hand “you can always come listen to me, you know~”
His eyes seem to glimmer at that idea. His trademark grin split that handsome face. “Oh? You are right, I certainly could. I certainly will.” He leaned against the counter sipping his coffee.
This moment they shared was so different. Their interactions had been so dark and chaotic, before this. However right now he seemed so playful and gentle, like when they first met. Was it all a mask or was there some reality to this?
They spent most of the day this way, just getting to know each other better. Kitty spilled her guts about what drove her to snap and begin a murder spree. Leaning against the couch, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
“I just….” She started gaze cast down, “my parents died in a car crash when I was a teenager. My old money grandparents took me in. It was awful they were not very kind to me. As soon as they could they pushed me into an arranged marriage with another man, for an increase to their wealth. I suppose my life was worth little more than a few thousand.” She laughed weakly.
Alastor’s smile faltered as she spoke. A quite rage eking into his heart.
“He was a vicious man. You saw the scars on my belly and back last night….those were his handy work. He would use broken alcohol bottles, cigarette ends, you name it.” She managed to look up at him. His eyes were full of blood lust and rage at her words. She placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry darling….I know it’s hard to hear but bare with me.”
Alastor squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckle lightly.
“He would lock me in the basement for days, when he was really in a mood. I managed one night to crawl out of the basement window. I ran to freedom. I didn’t look back. I ended up here in New Orleans two years ago, far away from that old house in Mississippi.” She continued.
Alastor was a little stunned she was a runaway. He squeezed her hand firmly “you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.” His eyes burned into hers it was a vow.
Kitty leaned her face into his shoulder. “This cycle of abuse broke me somewhere deep inside. I saw a man beating a woman in an alleyway….and I just. Something snapped. I stabbed him to death and ran off. There was something so freeing about this act. As if I was getting revenge myself. It became and addiction. I used the jazz club to find more unsavory men, and began to pick them off carefully.”
Alastor listened to her story wicked delight in his big grin. She did similar to what he did. Protect the innocent, and clean the scum of society from the streets. After all rabid dogs must be put down~
They continued their conversation for awhile until it was time to bring her back to the city. Alastor drove silent for awhile just thinking through everything. His eyes drifted to her. She was looking out the window quietly, seemingly lost in thought. He smirked. What a wonderful creature he happened upon. He seemed pleased with how this relationship was progressing.
“Kitty~” he said breaking the silence. She jolted out of her thoughts, turning her head to look at him. He grinned at her. “I have to say….it’s been a thrilling time getting to know you, I’d love to see you more frequently.”
Kitty thought about it and smiled lightly “I’d like that.” She said softly. She hadn’t been sure of Alastor, and there was such weird mystery surrounding him. However she felt inclined to get to see just who he really was. Especially with how kind he had been recently.
He smirked in reply and focused on the road. Before long they pulled up to the Silver Magnolia in the French Quarter. He parked and came around to assist her out of the car. She took his hand as he helped her stand. She smiled lightly at him for the gesture. He was a gentleman despite his wild nature that lay beneath that mask of southern charm.
He was content to grab a drink and stay and watch her preform tonight. He had nothing else happening, and was always delighted watching her preform. Not to mention he could make sure she wasn’t harassed. It infuriated him how many men would flock to her; and touch her. How dare they touch her. His eyes narrowed at the thought. After all she was his. Especially after last night, he had laid his claim upon her.
Kitty was in her dressing room getting ready for the show while Alastor was nursing a whiskey and glaring at the men that sauntered about. He had committed to memory the ones he deemed as problems. His mind making note to handle them if they step out of line.
It was show time before long. Kitty came out on stage and had the crowd on pins and needles. It never got old to Alastor. He was always enthralled watching her with grace and pride commanding that stage. He rest his chin on his hand and watched her dance and sing. She always looked the happiest up there. He wanted that happiness for his own. How could he steal away that happiness just for him to see and no one else? He sipped his whiskey.
How could he get her heart? He already had began to twist what was left of her broken mind, bending her to his will to continue down her dark path, of vengeance. However he was not sated. He wanted more. He wanted to devour every inch of that little vixen. His eyes narrowed and he grinned. He wanted to possess her.
The band roared into the night as kitty finished her set. It was time to go get changed and clean up before meeting with Alastor. A man had followed her. He entered her dressing room behind her and confront her.
Kitty felt cornered and a little panicked the man cornering her against the wall of her dressing room. “I am tired of asking!” He yelled aggressively at her, “I will not take no for an answer again!” He growled.
Kitty glared up at him feeling small but the fire was still burning in her eyes. “I will never marry you!” She retorted. It was a wealthy industrialist named Marc Jacobson. He had been harassing her for months to become his wife. Kitty refused to be crammed back into another man’s cage, especially now that she had tasted freedom.
He struck her swiftly. His hand smacking her across the face so hard she tasted blood in her mouth. Had he been not at her work, she would have attacked him. It was an awful delicate situation as she needed to remain innocent.
Alastor had come back stage to meet her in her dressing room as it seemed she was taking awhile. Which annoyed him a little, he wanted to see her post haste. He heard the arguing as he came up on her door. Then the loud smack. His eyes flared with rage. Who dare lay a hand on his woman? He tried the door and found it locked. In a fit of rage he kicked the door inwards slamming it against the wall. His eyes were burning red seeing Kitty pinned against the wall with this pompous man looming over her.
When he saw the blood on her lip he lost all sense of self. He lunged at the man, grabbing him by his shirt and punching him so hard in the face it broke Marc’s nose. Crimson gushed down Marc’s face. He stumbled back hitting the floor. Alastor looked over Marc a look of sinister hatred burning in his eyes. His eyes had an eerie green glow to him as he snarled down at the man.
Marc looked up at him outraged holding his face with a bloody hand. He got to his feet and shoulder checked Alastor before heading out. Alastor glared after him. He would take care of that one tonight. He rushed to Kitty immediately. He held her face gently checking her over, he seemed worried.
“It’s fine….I’ve had worse” she chuckled sadly.
Alastor looked into her eyes gently cleaning the blood from her lip with his handkerchief. “I don’t care. How dare he hurt you. Was that the man you mentioned who’s been trying to get you to marry him?” He questioned
“Yes….that’s the one.” She sighed.
Alastor hummed softly. He brushed his thumb over the sore spot on her face, seemingly lost in thought. How did he want to kill this man? Probably set him loose into his hunting grounds, hunt him down and shoot him. He wanted him to feel the same fear of being pursued endlessly. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I’ll handle him, cher~” he leaned down taking her lips with his.
Kitty felt a lot safer now that Alastor was here. If he handled the problem it would take the heat off of her, and she would get the justice she craved. She smirked at him “oh you do so spoil me darling~” she sighed softly
Alastor grinned down at her, his thumb resting on her chin. “Oh it’s no problem my dear~”
They sat in her dressing room together for sometime. He held her gently letting her come down from the assault that had happened. He was being gentle with her c slowly running his fingers through her hair. After her awful abusive marriage, he imagined she wasn’t in a good headspace.
Kitty leaned into him lost in her own thoughts. She was feeling a lot more calm with his caring touches. They stayed like this for some time. Once she felt okay enough he decided tonight they would find this man, and have her lure him out to his cabin.
It seemed easy enough. She knew where he lived from being invited to a dinner party. Alastor hid in the back seat, in anticipation. A wicked glee on his face. Kitty would lie saying she thought it over and wanted to marry him after all. Then say she wanted to go somewhere private to have some intimacy
It was working splendidly. She had drugged the whiskey she gave him, so he was very out of it. Alastor waited in the back floor board eagerly. He was almost panting like a wild animal at the thought of taking that wretch’s life with his own hands tonight.
Marc was out of it, and it was very easy for Kitty to use her charms to manipulate him. Alastor felt pride swell in his chest for how wicked his little vixen was at using her wiles. If he wasn’t crazy about her already, he was now. He had to stifle a laugh. All of this was so amusing.
Kitty pulled up the the secluded cabin that belonged to Alastor. Marc stumbled out of the car and she was easy to lead him into the house. The plan was for Alastor to chase him out and into the woods where he would hunt him down like prey.
Alastor went around the back of the house and retrieved his shot gun. He loaded it and put extra ammo in his pockets, not that he was a bad shot, but just in case. His eyes glimmered with sick, twisted glee.
Kitty led Marc into the kitchen. Alastor came around the corner gun raised. A wild feral look in his eyes as he grinned at Marc. “You have to the count of ten to run.” Alastor laughed. Marc was drugged but could think enough that he ran past Alastor and out the open back door.
Alastor counted laughing hysterically as Marc stumbled tearing off into the woods. He looked over at Kitty, “sit tight darlin. I’ll handle this and be back soon~”
Then Alastor bottled out of the back door grinning. He was following the trail of broken branches and disturbed brush. He could hear Marc running ahead through the brush. The rustling drawing Alastor close to his heels. Marc was cursing and panting tryin to make it through the wood. Though in his drugged state it was difficult.
They made it into a clearing. Alastor was approaching him blood lust in his eyes. Marc began to plead as the shot gun was aimed at him. “I’ll never bother her again! I swear!” Marc begged hands raised as he backed away.
Alastor laughed cruelly, malice dripping in his voice, “you think it’s your god given right to lay hands on my girl!?” He was panting and grinning madly at Marc gun raised.
Marc backed up still, hands in front of him “please God no! I’m sorry!” He begged
A strange eerie green aura emanated about Alastor and the loud sound of radio static exploded into the air. His eyes glowed an eerie, sickly green. Strange dark powers forming around him. This would be one more sacrifice.
Alastor laughed loudly “I am no God! No mercy from the devil!” He cackled wickedly before firing a round. The shot gun rang out into the woods, echoing as the bullet tore through Marc. Crimson pooled around Marc’s chest, staining his suit. Alastor wasn’t satisfied, he reloaded and fired again. Marc stumbled back and fell onto the ground holding his chest.
Alastor loomed over him crushing his windpipe down with his boot. “We put down rabid animals” he grinned. The moonlight framed his figure as he held the shotgun point blank. He fired in between Marc’s eyes. Blood spraying his clothing and face. He laughed wildly head tossed back the moonlight glinting off his blood splatter glasses
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bvtbxtch · 7 months
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Paranoid | Eddie Munson
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Day Five of Kinktober
Summary: You watched Eddie make it out of the battle for Hawkins clinging to his life by a thread. Even though he has been acquitted for the crimes he was accused of, and life has gone back to normal, there is something not quite right with your boyfriend.
Pairings: Vecna'd!Eddie x fem!reader
wc: ~2.1k
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares, choking, fearing for your life, possession, saying love for the first time, this is happening in a universe where the upside down and Vecna exist, although this fic is pretty tame, my blog is 18+ so MDNI!!!
In collaboration with the lovely @darknesseddiem. Stay tuned for their prompts in the latter half of October!!
Dark red skies, thunder and the far off screeches of sheer horror were replaced with stark, sterile whites and blues and a symphony of beeping machines. The only purple and red that you could see were the constellations of bruises and cuts on your boyfriend’s face. His once frizzy and curly hair laid flat against the thin pillow on his hospital bed. His veins looked like they were ready to collapse with the sheer amount of needles and IVs connecting him to his lifelines. You had sat and stared at his pouty face for three days straight. He looked so small, so innocent. Hopper had come to see you the second day in the hospital. The day you were released Hopper had told you and Wayne that Eddie had been acquitted of all of the murders. You breathed a sigh of relief when Eddie finally woke up. The first thing he did was search the room for you. You cupped his face and embraced him in a soft kiss. He winced but pulled you closer. Eddie’s recovery went smoothly after that, his dedication to get out of the hospital and back to his own bedroom where you could lay beside him.
Things took a turn for the weirdest when you finally took Eddie home. As much as your own parents disapproved, you spent all of your free time at the Munson trailer, doting on both Uncle and Nephew as much as you could. 
Things started off small; you would find Eddie staring blankly out the windows or up at the ceiling, but the second you would call his name, he would snap back to you and rejoin you with a crooked smile. He was touchy, almost afraid to let you go, but not for you. He clung to you for dear life while he napped on you. He always needed to hold your hand or hold your arm while you drove. He didn’t like going into the bathroom alone and you always needed to be with him for all of his appointments. He felt terrible for being so dependent but you were his lifeline. He started making you scared a month after his physical therapy was completed and he regained his strength. 
Eddie was no stranger to night terrors… neither were you. Most nights the two of you retired to the living room couch to pop in a VCR to fall back asleep to, the sounds of random slasher films filled the silence you both dreaded. But you had never expected what happened the night of August third. 
Your mind had been running a mile a minute, sleep overtook you slowly in the heat of the trailer bedroom. You slept restlessly, nightmares invading every corner of your mind. You had slowed your breathing and you suddenly jolted awake, eyes flicking open in horror to what you were met with. Eddie’s face was stone cold, filled with rage as he huffed only inches away from your face. His knees caged your body to the mattress with nowhere to turn your face. You felt the life drain from your face as Eddie’s vice grip around your throat tightened. He was ice cold, but sweat beaded underneath his curly bangs. You pleaded with your eyes up to him, but the Eddie you knew wasn’t there. There was no golden glow behind his big brown eyes, no glimmer of adoration like when he normally looked at you. With what little strength you had left, you wriggled your arm from under Eddie’s body and reached up to touch his cheek. Your world was going black, a vignette border closing in around the love of your life’s face. There was no time for confusion. You knew this wasn’t your Eddie. You grazed his cold cheek with the tips of your fingers and you were met with a shroud of hope. 
For a split second, you saw a flash of your boyfriend’s eyes behind the strange ones you were peering into. You flattened your palm against his cheek to caress him and suddenly Eddie had recoiled off of you like you were made of molten lava. You choked and gasped for air as Eddie sat sprawled at the foot of the bed, chest heaving almost as hard as yours. When you had the strength you curled yourself onto your side so you could look at the terrified boy in front of you. 
“S-s-sweetheart… I-” Eddie choked through tears. He was disgusted with himself. One moment he was asleep, dreams filled with terrible visions of the upside down; the next, he’s on top of you, his one salvation in the real world, choking you out. Your small pale face full of fear and confusion will be his new worst nightmare. 
“Eddie… baby. Are you okay?” you rasped, you felt like you were yelling, but your voice was so small Eddie could barely hear you. 
“Am I okay? Sweetheart…. I - I almost killed you…” Eddie whimpered. You propped yourself to your knees, then slouched yourself over towards the foot of the bed. Eddie jumped up, his lanky figure only illuminated by the moonlight coming in through the trailer window. 
“Stay away from me, babe. I don’t wanna- I can’t hurt you again…” Eddie pulled at his tresses and walked in small circles. You reached for the side lamp to illuminate the terrified boy’s face. His cheeks were flushed and stained with tears. His brow fixed in a permanent furrow. He was terrified. He looked the same way he did that night that you almost lost him. Something from that day was pulling him back now. You could tell. 
“Eddie…”
Your plea was met with silence… stillness. The metalhead faced the window, his lanky shoulders turned away from you. You only got bits and pieces of his frame because the side lamp was now violently flickering. You lept out of bed and stumbled over to your boyfriend; your legs still like jelly from total panic and adrenaline. You grabbed onto his shoulders and turned him towards you. You wracked out a sob as you were no longer met with glowing golden brown eyes, but milky, glazed over orbs in their place. You knocked past Eddie to his desk and stereo, frantically pressing at whatever buttons you could muster in a feeble attempt to play the newest Metallica tape that had been wedged in the machine since you and Eddie went to the big record store in Indianapolis to get it the day it was released. Finally, a release from the silence and the thrash of the music filled the room. You could feel the bass and drum beat in your chest. You studied Eddie carefully, the music doing nothing to end his trance. You let out a desperate sob, searching the room for anything else that might relieve the boy in front of you. You had no choice but to use what you had in your mind.
“Eddie… listen to me baby. I know you’re in there. Think with me. I need you to remember because you can’t go yet! There are still people here who need you - I need you!” You cup Eddie’s face and yell into him. You rub his arms and cheeks to remind him of your touch. As you speak, you run your fingers through his hair, the way he likes it - the way he likes you to do it. 
“Remember the day we first met? Remember how you bumped into me crying under the bleachers because I didn’t make the cheer team?” you scoffed. “Little did I know me not getting on that team and our little interaction under the bleachers saved my life. Remember what you told me? You knocked me on the shoulder, offered me a cigarette and said ‘buck up, champ. There are bigger and better things coming for you than just the cheer team. You’re gonna leave this town in the dust, I know it’” You giggle sadly at the memory. Eddie’s expression is unchanging. You can feel him slipping.
“I remember when I realized I had a crush on you, Eddie. It was the second time I had ever stepped foot into the drama room and you pulled me up a chair right beside Gareth and you. You told me it was because you two were the pros, but I was just happy to be near you. I was so happy to see your side eye winks and little giggles at me. I loved it when you doodled on my character sheet and explained the rules of the game to me. Please Eddie. Please come back to me.” You voice shrieked in desperation. You were no longer concerned about the pain in your body, just transfixed on the love of your life in front of you. You had never said it out loud. Even though you were sure that Eddie would feel the same way about you, you were too scared of the potential rejection; but desperate times … The wind started to pick up, even though there were no windows open.
“I remember the day you kissed me.” you yelled. There was no noise but the room was deafening. “It was the valentine's day dance and I remember being so surprised seeing you in the gym. I had gone with Robin because she was too nervous to ask another girl to go with her. I was surprised because you had spent the past few days complaining about how stupid dances are. Henderson must have gotten to you because you were there  - even though you weren’t dressed up much. I remember the way you looked at me when you saw me. I felt like my heart was going to explode. We spent the night dancing and laughing and giggling after you took me and Robin out back to smoke a blunt with you. You offered to drive me home and I complained about how they didn’t play the one song I wanted to hear - Changes by Black Sabbath remember? You had the cassette in your van so we parked by my house and you blasted it out the window and we danced. You looked so handsome Eddie. I’ll never forget the way you looked at me.” Your tears streamed down your face in remembrance and in fear that you’ll never be able to make memories with him again. “You asked if you could kiss me and I felt my world explode. You kissed me and it was right and from then on I couldn’t wait for you to kiss me again.” You saw a pang of hurt on Eddie’s face. His feet began to raise from the floor.
“Eddie Munson, you can’t leave me yet.” you sobbed. You pulled at his tattered Van Halen shirt to plant him to the ground. “We have too much to do… we have the rest of the world to see together. Remember? We said that once we had enough money we were going to pack up the van and drive across the country? I can’t do that without you! I can’t go on without you. I can’t kiss anyone else and I can’t love anyone else. I love you Eddie. I have loved you forever and I will go on loving you forever, so you can’t leave me yet please.” The cacophony of your pleas and sobs, as well as the blaring music halted Eddie’s departure in its tracks. The stereo wailed and the lightbulb in the lamp surged so hard that you thought it might explode. Small praises and pleas for Eddie to come back to you escaped your lips. 
With a snap of your fingers, the lightbulb blew out and the stereo short circuited. Eddie dropped to his knees on the floor, his back shaking from his trembling sobs. He cried out your name over and over again. You dropped to the floor beside him, raising his face to yours. His eyes were no longer a glassy white, but the familiar chocolate brown that you thought you were never going to see again. You sobbed in relief and wrapped your arms around his neck. He grabbed onto your waist like you were the only thing keeping him alive. 
“I love you… oh my god I love you so much. Please don’t ever leave me” Eddie choked into your cheek. He nestled into the crook of your neck where he sobbed uncontrollably.
“I’m here Eddie and I love you so much. I will never leave you, okay?” You felt the metalhead nod against you. 
You stayed nestled on the floor until the relief of sunrise made you both feel safe. With bags under your eyes and swollen lips, you both retreated to the couch on the front porch to watch the sunshine, Eddie’s hand never leaving yours
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classtrialguru · 3 months
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Hu is the original attempted murderer Theory
So I want to start with the mechanism that almost ended Ace's life. Well we already know that the mechanism acquires the wire to be wrapped around one's neck and we know that the fan that had the wire taped to it had to be turned on to raise the person being murdered. Now when I was looking at the way it was supposed to be set up before it got botched and I realized something. Tension! The way of how the wire can work is the tension of Ace's body weight being hugged by the fan. Then after realizing that I came up with a thought. "This seems really familiar to how you would string up an instrument."
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And this was my smoking gun! So the chain of events I think happened went like this.
Scene one
It was the middle of day two when Ace and Nico started fighting again, but Ace was going to take it too far this time. He was going to expose Nico's secret. Backed up in a corner with a feeling of desperation Nico threatened Ace's life to just scare him off. Things escalated though when Hu came in and smacked Ace across the face. With feelings of rage and sympathy to a victim that didn't do anything to elicit such aggressive bullying and all in all one big thorn in the group that if left unattended would leave the whole group unravelled. She had to do something, she had to do something quick no matter the consequence.
Scene two
It has been almost a whole day and Hu had a plan to get rid of Ace. She had the weapon of choice which was her wire, She steeled her resolve not actually taking Ace's life, all she needed was a way to make sure that he didn't struggle when she put him in the mechanism. Now I know this is going to sound a little farfetched believe me when I say that it is very out there, but Hu needed something to knock Ace out which is definitely Rose's tuberpine, now comes the unbelievable part and her name is Eden Tobisa. Thanks to thebadjoe for the idea that Eden was the one to swipe the tuberpine the day before for her own murder scheme. Now we know that both Hu and Eden clean the dishes after the meals so they would be kinda close to each other and both are trying to get the group to work together and fight against the killing game. So maybe Eden lets Hu use the tuberpine for her murder plan, because she had a glimmer of hope that she didn't have to kill Arei, she didn't need to kill her new friends that saved her from being killed.Eden became an accomplice. Both couldn't out the ones plan without the other outing them.
Scene 3
With two people in on the plan it was fool proof. Eden would act as the lookout and Hu would wait in the gym waiting for Ace. She brought two things to commit murder, a broom to prop Ace up and a step stool to reach the upper side of the fan. When Ace came into the gym, Hu came from behind and used the tuberpine on him. After Ace was knocked out the only thing she had to do was tape the one end of the wire to the top side of the fan and wrap the other end around Ace's neck. With a flip of a switch the fan was turned on, tightening the wire around Ace's neck. While Eden was distracting Teruko in the dressing room Hu made her get away, but she wasn't aware of one person on the floor.
Scene four
After feeding the fish Nico was coming out of the relaxation room when they noticed something off. It was Hu going into the elevator, "Huh why would Hu be on this floor at this hour?" Nico decided to go and investigate. When they looked in the gym the first thing they saw was Ace being choked by the wire. They panickely tried to find a way to get Ace down. They turned off the fans, but that wasn't enough. They would try to take the wire off of Ace's neck, but it was to taunt. Using the broom and step stool that Hu brought in the Gym Nico swatted at the fan till it broke off the ceiling. Nico went to prop Ace on the wall and started to take off the wire wrapped around his neck when Teruko and Eden came into the gym to investigate the noise of the fallen fan.
Scene five
A million thoughts were rushing around their head. "Why would Hu do this?" "What do I do now?" "Could this have been avoided if I just stood up for myself?!" "How can I explain this?" They couldn't explain what looked like a murder attempt that was done by them. They panicked and ran away. They knew that Hu was the one that tried to kill Ace but who would believe him, they were the one caught with the wire in hand.Back in the gym Teruko and Eden started to investigate when Ace woke up. Just because he was knocked out doesn't mean he couldn't hear anything and multiple people were saying Nico's name. Ace connected that and the death threat that Nico told him earlier in the day and jumped to the conclusion that Nico tried to kill him. He was furious and he wanted to get back at them.
Scene six
It was the next day and Hu gave Eden the tuberpine back. Eden told Hu what happened after she left the second floor and Hu felt guilty. When Ace came in to get on Nico about how he was a killer, Hu was quick to jump in and defend Nico, because she knew that they weren't the one trying to take Ace's life. She felt so guilty about dragging the very person that she was trying to stand up for the day before into this mess.
Conclusion
So that's how everything played down. I think more of what happened will be revealed in chapter three and I can't wait for what happens next. If anyone wants to add anything feel free to do so.
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imogenkol · 5 months
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— OCS AS TRAGIC LOVE ARCHETYPES
tagged by @corvosattano @adelaidedrubman @simplegenius042 @inafieldofdaisies @jackiesarch to do this uquiz! Thank you lovelies!!
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @v0idbuggy @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn
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05. MOTHER'S DAUGHTER
Being her child was akin to a whispered apology, another wailing hug, another day you repent for complaining about the fact that she hasn't said anything nice to you. You bring her flowers and are met with the inconvenience of a vase that has to be found instead. You bake for her and feel the warmth of fresh cut bread fill the kitchen; but the dirty dishes remain. Even if you were to bring in the mail and lay down the knife next to your plate, she'll cradle another. Love is an endless apology to you. Averting eyes to desperate tears and sunken teeth in lower lip at the dinner table. Do not repent for who you are, as it is enough. Gather your courage to love again and reveal the honeydewed structure of a swelling heart once you feel safe to do so instead. Love isn't a confession booth of all you are not, settle down and unclasp your hands. You're all anyone could want already.
note: proof that you don’t need a biological mother to have mommy issues. I was really surprised by this result at first and wasn’t sure it quite fit, but it really does describe what it felt like for Imogen to have Rejna as a master.
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07. FATHER'S SON
Breathe down your own neck, it's the sound of smashing fist against furniture in another room again. The wringing hem of cloth and pattern of an escalating heart. Love is tumultous to you. There is grief and disguised forgiveness to damp down the yearning. A permanent fear of tender flesh spilling out, still- you must refrain of growing attached to the fear you had installed into you. Let go of the notion that love is still to be cherished with a hole in the head. Scrub crimson ancestry off wooden floors and try again tomorrow when your hands don't shake cold from the blood loss. Love isn't a fist to escape. Fill the hole in your head with cotton and know you are to be adored. You are deserving of an embrace without flinching.
note: growing up as a Lolth Sworn drow in the Underdark and hating it. Wanting something more kind and joyful out of life. Yeah.
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06. CANíBALES; DEVOURER
Love's a knife to skin to you, a vein to woven muscle, blood puddle before you. You listened to all the promises of a stranger's relief and feel the drain of a shower head running it all down again. You committed another murder; kissed and bruised skin with a clench to a quivering wrist and went home in the defeaning quiet of a taxi. There's mold covered rage within you. If to take a heart home with you, you'd bite your way through muscle and ribcage first. Pleasure comes, but there will be no devouring past it. There is fear in settling down and being seen. There is a glass screen between these bodies and you. Relax your tight jaw and feel the real canine fear beneath that scabbed up cavity. The sacrifice of opening up is needed if to be loved as you deeply wish inside. Desire doesn't discriminate between hands or spoken word. Why should you?
note: perfect result for a werewolf who fights so fiercely and is desperate to love completely despite how scared she is.
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03. CUPID'S BROTHER
You have been love adjacent all your life. The faint spill of another story that softly grazed your shoulders when stood too close. Whether by design or not, you have yet to build a clear image of what love means to you. The interlocked weaving of a picture locket bound to strand of hair when hugged to tight, the sunpatch that meets your soles in glaring sun dried fields when running with a friend. You are not far from love, but moving between line of collision and avoidance at all times. A faint glimmer on sea lake surface of what could be. There is time to find what you want, find whether it's enough as is. Love is in you, breathing in another day. Continue as you are, realizing the love that is slowly blossoming in your life as it sharpens and clears in brushstrokes.
note: oh, Nadya… putting your emotional needs on the back burner for so long. At least she finally has that Oh moment with Jayde.
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bloodiedlamb · 2 years
Text
📂 . 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗲𝘅𝗶𝗹𝗲
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⸺˚⁎⁺˳・ jason fucking carver picked the wrong girl to go after in his search for chrissy’s killer, and eddie’s done running.
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⌗ PAIRING . eddie munson x fem ! reader.
⌗ WORD COUNT . 0.9k
⌗ WARNINGS . reader gets attacked, getting threatened/attacked with a knife, lots of violence, jason’s fucking insane in this, non-sexual choking, physical fighting, lots of blood, near death experiences all around the board, slight st4 vol 1 spoilers. some topics may be triggering, read at your own risk.
⌗ NOTES . this was originally posted on my old account @/saintlessmunson.
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your back was to the door when he entered the trailer, hell, you were so far into your own world that you didn’t even notice him come in.
he stood there for a moment, the door not fully closed behind him as he watched you flit around the kitchen, humming to the beat of a metallica song he didn’t recognize.
eddie had been on the run for three days, and the news had just confirmed him as the prime suspect in chrissy cunningham’s death. but, since you had been there, you knew the truth of what had happened. your boyfriend of nearly two years told you that since nobody else knew you were there, that you were safe from facing any jail time and wanted you to stay as far away from him as possible.
but you, of course, knew that he was holed up at reefer rick’s house. and you also knew that he was coming to see you tonight, in the middle of the night, because he needed to make sure that you were okay.
the boy in the living room felt a new kind of rage flood his veins. how the fuck could the freak get to have this beautiful little creature to call his when his girlfriend was dead. murdered. by that son of a bitch’s hand.
you couldn’t even scream by the time you felt him grab you, a hand over your mouth and another around your throat. the abundant amount of old spice cologne let you know exactly who your attacker was.
jason fucking carver.
you writhed and thrashed in his arms, to no avail, because he slammed your head against the fridge, sending your vision miles away from you.
the room spun, and your ears rang something terrible but you still tried to escape his grasp.
“if i can’t have my girl,” jason mutters like a man gone mad, “then neither can he.”
it’s only then that you see the glimmer of his pocket knife. your heart races, only furthering the dizziness in your skull.
eddie knew something was wrong when he saw that the door wasn’t closed. he noticed an unfamiliar car parked a few lots down on the street, empty but with the engine still running. and he knew that there was no reason to leave a car running unless you were planning to get out fast.
he threw reefer rick’s pontiac into park and flew from the driver’s seat, bursting into the door faster than he’s ever moved before in his life. and he was just in time to see carver trailing his knife up your shirt and around your throat.
“glad you finally decided to join us,” he hums emotionlessly. “i really didn’t want you to miss this.”
“let her go, she’s got nothing to do with this,” eddie tries to reason, his heart clenching when he sees the blood trailing from your hairline and the tears flowing down your cheeks.
“she’s got everything to do with this, freak!” jason bellows as he grips you tighter, nearly cutting your airway off completely as you scratch at his wrist. “you took my fucking girl so i’m gonna take yours.”
at the first dribble of blood that comes with the pressure from jason’s knife, eddie’s like a shark that senses chum in the water.
all he sees is red, and all he feels is the fire that burns in him. his entire life, all he’s ever done is run away from the fight. but not this time, this time he runs into the fight.
he trucks jason at a million miles an hour, effectively disarming him and tossing you out of harms way all in one go. next thing he knows there’s blood, lots and lots of blood and it’s everywhere. it’s on the walls and it’s on his mainly white t-shirt and it’s on the floors and it’s on his hands and he can’t even see the color of his skin anymore but he can’t fucking stop. he can’t stop until he’s dead because if he doesn’t, if he runs away yet again, he’s gonna lose you for good. and he can’t lose another fucking thing that he loves.
you’re curled into yourself in the corner, holding your head from the pain of the initial slam against the metal fridge. you won’t look at eddie, or jason, and it’s not because you don’t want to see it, it’s because you don’t want to have to acknowledge the fact that if eddie had been five minutes later, you’d be the one bleeding to death.
to both of your surprise, eddie stops before jason takes his last breath, spitting next to his head as he pushes himself up from the floor. “come after me all you want, but you stay the fuck away from my girl, you ignorant piece of shit. you understand me? or next time i will fucking kill you.”
jason can only look at eddie through bloody lenses before groaning out a gargled, “yeah.”
then he’s over at you, pausing before his hands reach you as he notices the sticky red liquid that dries on his skin. he grabs the nearest cloth, which happens to be your table cloth, and scrubs as much of it off as he can. his arms surround you like the wings of an angel and you sob into his chest. “you came.”
“i’m done running,” he mutters into your hair, holding you tightly. “i’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”
“no,” you whimper, “this is vecna. all of this is vecna.”
“i should’ve never let you stay out here on your own, god, how was i that stupid?” and it’s then that you realize you two are stuck, together, and that hawkins can never be home again.
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🗃 file box . ✉️ mailbox .
© saintsinnereject, 2022.
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chiefwritesbook · 3 months
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WIP Intro: SOTAL
Hi hello this is my main WIP and book 1 is out and I'm !!!!!!
(have a moodboard first of all)
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Series title: Stories of the Ancient Lands (SOTAL) Genre: Epic fantasy/romance Themes: Justice (and prejudice), power & leadership, morality, self-identity, friendship & love
Blurb for book 1: War rages across the elven kingdom of Kies Tor. In the capital, the exiled crown prince has returned, seeking to usurp the throne. Midst the bloodshed and chaos, Talin Zylvaris II must take her place as queen and lead the kingdom to safety. It’s a heavy weight for the youngest Torrian ruler in a thousand years.
There is, however, a glimmer of hope in an unlikely alliance to the west. Against her council’s advice, Talin rides out with her mysterious royal bodyguard to seize it, oblivious to the dangers stirring at home. Caught between a court conspiracy and advancing Hellhounds to the north, Talin has only one chance to save her people. If it is not already too late.
About the main squad: Talin: Queen of an entire kingdom, inherited a war, trying her hardest not to screw up and also keep her people alive while everyone at court plots things behind her back. Probably needs to be fished out from the increasingly large pile of other people's bullshit.
Red Wolf: Lord Commander of the Royal Guard. Not a Werewolf™️ and definitely not a simp for the queen, not at all. Prone to getting stabbed or slashed by various sharp and pointy things - it's an occupational hazard.
Ettrias: Talin's twin brother, crown prince of Kies Tor, also very much exiled for murder. May or may not be plotting to assassinate the queen. People tend to forget he's highly competent with a sword and attempt to kill him for some reason.
Captain Golmin: Army vet who became head of the royal guard because it pays to be best friends with the Lord Commander. Really just tired of everyone's shit. Always ends up caught in the middle of a court conspiracy or another, possibly because he's dating the crown prince.
Ashera: A 12yo child who wound up as the Lord Commander's squire because the guy felt guilty about failing to save her hometown and subsequently promised her mother that he'd look after her. Looks like a cinnamon roll, can and will commit crimes.
Book 1 excerpt to finish off: Talin tried a different tactic. “Why did you allow the assassin to scale the walls?”
“We needed a man for questioning.” Red Wolf took the torch from her at the bottom of the steps and led the way onwards, past endless rows of black-barred cells. She could see some were occupied, though none dared come close to them in Red Wolf’s towering presence. A straggly youth with rags for clothes spat on the ground when they passed. Her bodyguard slammed the bars with a gauntleted hand, and he jumped back, eyes wide.
“You and Captain Golmin set this up?” Talin asked.
“The plan was my idea. Captain Golmin only helped because he had an obligation to his lord commander,” Red Wolf explained. “We organised a new night shift that left blind spots on the walls and allowed the assassin to observe the pattern. We also leaked false information that I would not be guarding you at night. I had been asking you if you required me to guard your chambers only because I did not want to go against your word, but you refused each time. We were running out of opportunities.”
“You mean to say that I was bait,” Talin said.
“Not the word I would use, but in a way, yes,” Red Wolf confessed.
“Why?”
“You have been on the throne for less than a year. If someone wants you dead this quickly, something is amiss. I’d like to find out what.”
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navree · 2 years
Text
@selkiesstories got me thinking about it, so time for yet another round of “y’all tell me you want me to talk about something and i perform a thesis dissertation”, the viserys targaryen is the worst edition. 
so, positives i’ll say for viserys is that paddy considine is incredibly in the role. he’s a good actor and he worked really hard to imbue viserys with a lot of layers that, even while hating him, made me feel emotions for him anyway. there are times during paddy’s role where i could see the glimmers of viserys not necessarily being a bad person, just an incredibly stupid one who doesn’t think about how his choices impact others, and had potential to be something better, a better man and better father and better husband and better king (if he had kept his interactions with alicent strictly platonic, i could see the seeds for him filling a kind and nurturing paternal role in her life, to offset the fact that while otto loves his daughter, he will prioritize his ambitions to alicent’s detriment. alack alack, viserys had to go and crush on a fifteen year old). but also he sucks, and i wanna enumerate why in A List to excise all of my rage: 
viserys is a bad husband
aemma - i know paddy and everyone else and their mother have been on about how aemma was the great love of viserys’s life, and most likely he did love her, but viserys was awful to aemma. aemma’s function in viserys’s life was entirely to be a brood mare. even before she was named queen during the great council and thus had more of an imperative to try for a male heir, she’s pregnant, and not with rhaenyra, as the show has rhaenyra start off at fourteen and the great council takes place ten years before the start of main events. aemma has to endure a constant life in a hazardous condition, given that being pregnant is no picnic generally, and especially not in pseudo-medieval times, for viserys’s sake. and it doesn’t appear that viserys has stopped to think about how that might affect her, not just physically but also psychologically as ALL of these pregnancies, excepting rhaenyra, have ended badly either through miscarriage or stillbirth or infant death. viserys has to be told, point blank, in the simplest language, that aemma does not want to be pregnant again. it’s nearly twenty years of marriage before aemma is able to just firmly tell him that enough is enough, and it’s apparently been nearly twenty years of marriage before viserys even stops and thinks that maybe reducing his wife to a walking uterus is in fact a bad thing. 
and then he kills her. like, that’s the pièce de résistance of viserys’s treatment of aemma, he literally murders her. and the worst part, genuinely the worst part of it, is that he doesn’t let her have any say. he doesn’t even try to talk about it with her, this woman he apparently loves so very much, he does not explain what is happening or offer her the option of choosing, or explaining, or doing anything. he unilaterally makes that decision, and then does nothing to prepare her or help her or even try to comfort her. he lets her die not only in pain but in utter fear, and begging for her life, while people are actively holding her down, on his orders, while she struggles. it genuinely doesn’t matter to me how much viserys loved aemma, or was devoted to her in their marriage, or missed her once she was gone, he was a bad husband to her in her life and was directly responsible for not just her death, but the horrible state in which she died. 
alicent - god let me count the fucking ways. so first things first, i’m going to be really brave and strong and not dwell too much on viserys looking at someone his daughter’s age, a young teenager, and immediately deciding that this is someone it would be appropriate to pursue sexually, we all know it’s disgusting and vile and even if he was the best man on the planet in all other aspects i would still hate him for that alone. but viserys is also a bad husband to alicent, even more so than he was with aemma, as he appears to have no particular care for her as a person, for her own wants and desires and interests or anything about her other than as a fleshlight and a babymaking machine. he also doesn’t appear to have learned anything from aemma, as he has no problem impregnating alicent constantly in the early years of their marriage. the age gap for all of his children with alicent appear to be two years between aegon and helaena and two years between helaena and aemond (in the books there’s a four year gap then between aemond and daeron, but seeing as the writers definitely forgot about daeron until it was pointed out to them via twitter who knows what that will be in the show). considering that a pregnancy takes nearly a year to come to term, and that the human body does need a recovery period and can’t get pregnant immediately, it’s easy enough to infer that viserys was just constantly having alicent pregnant as soon and as frequently as possible from ages fifteen to twenty, and only stopped due to increasing infirmity, and likely the fact that they had four healthy children, three of them sons. 
viserys also shows an astounding lack of care for alicent’s physical wellbeing at all. he drags her to and fro around the kingswood while heavily pregnant, to the point where rhaenyra’s the one noticing that alicent’s uncomfortable while he doesn’t give a shit. not only that, he also summons her for sex in the dead of night at a whim to the point of demanding that she be woken up. alicent’s nineteen years old, she’s just had a baby she’s shown to be active in raising, most people would look at that and think “damn, let’s let her have a break, get some rest and a full eight hours of sleep”, but no, viserys needs to exercise his marital rape license so he has her woken up and brought to him and then doesn’t even give her the benefit of disassociation by trying to check and see that she’s engaged during the assault (i hate him i hate him i hate him i hate him). he also doesn’t compensate for this by caring about her emotional wellbeing. he is repeatedly and publicly dismissive of her and humiliates her in front of other people without a care to how it makes her feel, not just in front of family but in front of the entire court as well. he doesn’t give a shit about times she’s in distress, like on driftmark, or attempt to engage with her about her own feelings or take anything she says into account at all even in their private discussions. alicent is barely a person to him, let alone a wife, she’s a vehicle for him to satisfy his sexual urges, a functioning womb (honestly big “napoléon saying ‘it is a womb i am marrying’ when he married his second wife after divorcing his first solely for her apparent infertility vibes, and guess what i hate napoléon too) that gives him the sons he killed aemma for, and then a nursemaid for the bulk of the marriage. 
viserys is a bad father 
rhaenyra - so first of all, let’s be clear that the gap in viserys’s relationship with rhaenyra vs. his other kids is such pitch perfect “golden child and the scapegoat” that it should be required viewing for half of parents who don’t understand why their children don’t get along. but even with viserys’s clear favoritism and the detriment it causes to his other kids, that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t failed rhaenyra miserably. because he has. for the first fourteen years of her life, viserys appears to have somewhat ignored rhaenyra. she’s his cupbearer, yes, but by all counts they aren’t necessarily the closest behind perfunctory love from a parent to their only child and a daughter to her father, and he was just constantly not caring about her throughout her childhood. rhaenyra seems infinitely closer to her mother, and vice versa. this isn’t something that goes away even when rhaenyra is named heir, as they still seem to have a very stilted and cold relationship with each other, and it isn’t one that gets better, he doesn’t even try to connect with her after his marriage to alicent until she forces his hand through acting out. viserys never tries to foster any sort of personal relationship with his child, the child he’s supposed to love the most, even with the fact that he prefers her over all of his other kids, and even then his personal favoritism is highly likely a manifestation of his guilt over having killed her mother. and in spite of all his love and favoritism and guilt, he doesn’t have any qualms in completely decimating her friendship with the only close companion she appears to have, not to mention doesn’t even care enough to give her the decency or consideration of any prior warning of what he was doing to prepare her for dropping that nuclear bomb on his relationship with her and her relatinoship with alicent, and certainly never attempts to try and repair the damage he’s caused and the pain he’s inflicted on his daughter, or even apologized for the position that put her in. 
viserys has also done an abysmal job in helping rhaenyra at all politically. we see this in episode 2, when he doesn’t want her actually participating in small council meetings, he doesn’t want her engaged in political happenings at all or doing anything an heir would be doing. this only gets worse once he has sons. viserys knows that the legal assumption in westeros is male primogeniture, it’s why he was willing to kill aemma just to have a son even though he already had a daughter in her teens. so viserys knows that, after having aegon, that the entire country is going to assume that aegon is now heir, and he knew that this would only be reinforced one aemond and daeron were born in turn. but viserys doesn’t do anything. he does not publicly state that rhaenyra isn’t going to be supplanted, in spite of what he said to her privately, he does not issue any sort of edict or official code or add and addendum to the targaryen doctrine of exceptionalism that says they’re also allowed to follow absolute primogeniture rather than male dominated primogeniture. he does nothing to publicly support her position at all beyond the original oathtaking, and that is the only thing he does for her in the TWENTY YEARS between proclaiming her as his heir and his death (no, his condition in episode 8 is not an excuse, given that it was apparently a recent enough of a final decline that vaemond needs to inform rhaenys of it as if it’s not entirely common knowledge, and even if we assume that he dropped straight into imhotep mode the second they returned from driftmark after episode 7, that’s still fourteen years of him being healthy enough and coherent enough and mentally agile enough to do his job and as such try to do anything to shore up rhaenyra’s succession and help her out). 
viserys also doesn’t seem to care about rhaenyra participating in the political process, which is a huge misstep on his part. he should be wanting her regularly at small council meetings, he should be wanting her to get some experience as a ruler, as a poltician, as a strategist, hell even as a battle commander, given that she’s a dragonrider and has been since the age of fucking seven. but viserys does nothing to try and help her or prepare her or give her any kind of guidance on what it’s like to be a ruler, to make decisions for other people, to really have any kind of experience in something approaching queenship to prepare for what’s to come. viserys basically ignores rhaenyra not just as a daughter, but as a political heir, except for occasionally telling people to ignore their lying eyes on whether or not a platinum blonde white woman and a platinum blonde black man can have two brunette children with skin so white it might as well be translucent. and given that rhaenyra’s inability to actually govern well is a direct cause to her downfall and eventual gruesome death, viserys is basically 0 for 2 in “not being responsible for the horrible ways his loved ones have died”. not to mention that the entire issue of the animosity between rhaenyra and his other children is due to the fallout of his own favoritism, maybe they’d hate her and her kids less if viserys wasn’t constantly holding up his precious golden child and her kids at the physical and emotional expense of his four other fucking children, god he sucks. good going with your favorite kid viserys, now let’s look at the ones you don’t even give a shit about. 
aegon - i don’t even know if i have the words to describe all the ways that viserys has screwed aegon up. imagine, for a minute, you’re aegon. your relationship with your mother is already gonna have issues, by sheer virtue of the fact that your mother had you at the ripe ole age of sixteen due to unwanted sexual advances by a man old enough to be her father, who is in fact your father. you probably spend a lot of your formative years hearing about how much your father has been wanting a son all his life, to the point where the wife he had before your mother died in the process, but now he’s got a son, and that’s you. but he doesn’t pay any attention to you. he doesn’t nurture you or love you or care about you or even seem to like you that much. is kid aegon going to have the emotional intelligence to think about whether or not there’s something deficient in viserys’s character and to not see his father’s lack of love as a failing on his part? no, he’s a kid. what aegon likely did was blame himself, was think that there was something so lacking in him, so horrible, that his father who is renowned for wanting a son, decided that he was such a bad option that he’d rather have a daughter after all, and would favor rhaenyra over aegon and all the rest of his siblings for the remainder of his life. aegon likely feels responsible not just for his father not caring about him, but for his father not caring about helaena and aemond and daeron in turn, because he somehow messed up. viserys’s abandonment and negligence of aegon is a huge part in why aegon turned to various different vices to try and cope; he has a complicated relationship with his own mother (discussed at length here) and his own father doesn’t give a shit about him. 
and when viserys does deign to remember that he has a kid, it’s never positive attention. we see viserys actually interact with aegon twice, and neither of them are good. in the first interaction, he’s scolding aegon, so already we’ve got an idea that when viserys notices aegon, it’s mostly just to point out his flaws or ways he’s failing, which does a number on anyone, let alone a kid. and the second is at driftmark. viserys at driftmark is a post unto itself because of how abysmally he behaves throughout the entire episode and how he’s the worst man in all westerosi history in that scene, but imma focus on aegon. aegon gets blamed for telling aemond that rhaenyra’s bastards are bastards (understandable of aemond, he wants to protect his mother from his piece of shit father, god bless you my boy), and viserys’s reaction is to get up in his face and scream at him and pull rank, talk to him not as a father to a thirteen year old, but as a king, the supreme law of the land who has the power of life and death over everyone, including his son. it’s the middle of the night, aegon’s not entirely sober, his father’s angry and potentially volatile, and he’s got to make a decision. does he say aemond’s lying and put the onus of the situation back on his ten year old little brother who has been grievously injured and permanently disabled? does he do what aemond couldn’t and blame his mother and potentially shove her at the king’s mercy, knowing it could end badly for her? viserys hasn’t created an environment where aegon can tell him any sort of truth and not have it end badly for people he loves, and he chooses instead to lie, because viserys doesn’t care about the truth, doens’t care about him, and doesn’t care about aemond or alicent. when viserys isn’t completely ignoring him and giving him twenty different complexes, he’s apparently terrorizing him, and forcing his own son to view him not as a parent, but as the head of state, and only the head of state, and to react accordingly. 
helaena - we don’t know as much about helaena and viserys’s relationship, because they haven’t done much to develop helaena as a character, which is annoying, but we still know that viserys is a failfather even with her. for one, he never interacts with her. not as an adult, and not even as a baby, which is put into stark contrast with alicent actively taking a role in nurturing and raising helaena as a baby even though she’s only eighteen or nineteen when helaena is born. but one thing i think is another point int the long list of points against viserys and how messed up his negligence of his kids is, helaena is a dragondreamer. you know, the thing viserys is? if viserys spent any time trying to bond with his daughter, or get close to her, or even just learn anything about her, he likely would have figured it out. can you imagine how nice that would have been for helaena, how much that could have helped her, to have someone who can understand what these random dreams and visions she has sometimes are? we don’t know how helaena feels about her prophetic abilitites, because again, lack of characterization, but we know that a lot of what she sees is violent imagery that she struggles to express properly, like foreseeing aemond’s attack and disfigurement, or getting frustrated trying to tell her mother about the imminent threat of rhaenys at aegon’s coronation. having a present father who would be able to tell that she’s talking about likely would have gone a long way with her, but viserys doesn’t give a shit about his children so he doesn’t even know that his own child shares this ability with him. 
aemond - listen, i am not the first, and i will likely not be the last, to point out that viserys’s treatment of aemond is horrendous. i am not reinventing the wheel by pointing that out, but i am going to talk about it, because it’s truly one of the worst things viserys has ever done. like all of his siblings, aemond suffers from viserys’s neglect and lack of love, he suffers along with aegon and helaena, watching viserys heap praise and devotion on rhaenyra while ignoring them and repeatedly demeaning their mother and he has issues that arise when you’ve got a parent in your life that isn’t present and doesn’t care about you, it’s left him with a constant desire to prove himself and an inability to express his emotions except in times of extreme emotions. but unlike his siblings, aemond doesn’t just have to deal with viserys’s neglect, he also has to deal with the ironclad, irrefutable knowledge that his own father doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. because when aemond is attacked on driftmark, he could have died. and not just in the immediate aftermath of losing your eye, but afterwards, from the possibility of infection or any number of issues that can come from treating a severe wound in a pseudo-medieval society. aegon is, at maximum, ten years old, in a tremendous amount of pain, having to come to terms not just with a long recovery process but a permanent disability that’s going to require him to relearn absolutely everything about the way he lives his life, and does his own father care about it? no, viserys decides that the real issue here is that someone called rhaenyra’s kids bastards. 
viserys’s son has been the victim of an unprovoked attack, he was not only beaten but had his eye slashed out, and viserys does not care. he does not think about comforting his son, or trying figure out what the prognosis is, or do anything to try and help him. he doesn’t even ask that luke apologize for maiming his kid! no, the real crime is that someone said something mean that might reflect negatively on rhaenyra, so he yells at aemond and forces aemond, a child, to make tough calculations, to choose who to sic viserys on next in order to keep himself alive, to have to try and protect his mother at the expense of his brother, to then have to actually be the one to de-escalate the situation in the face of alicent’s distress and viserys’s complete disregard for her emotional state, or aemond’s himself. that’s the position viserys puts aemond in by not caring about anything other than the potential insult to rhaenyra. aemond is now going to spend the rest of his life not just dealing with any trauma from having been physically assaulted and losing an eye at the age of ten, but dealing with the literal proof that his father truly doesn’t give a shit about him. it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to look at who aemond is as an adult, stoic and implacable (with bursts of real rage and hatred like we saw at storm’s end when he lost it at luke) and always keeping himself in check and in control, and extrapolate that aemond realized that he needed to be as strong (pardon the pun) as possible because the only parent he has to protect him is someone who needs protection herself from an uncaring spouse, who is his own uncaring father. 
and then, after years of aemond having to pick himself up and not getting any sort of support from him, or even an ask for someone to try and right this wrong done to his own son, viserys has the gall, the nerve, the audacity, to stand up and basically just say “why can’t we all just get along? for me?” in front of god and everyone. as if his son isn’t sitting right there, dealt a lifelong blow with constant consequences for the crime of...doing exactly what viserys did. viserys claimed the riderless balerion, and aemond claimed the riderless vhagar, viserys should be proud of his son, should be bonding with him over what it’s like to have something so ancient and powerful under his control, a dragon from the conquest itself. but aemond was punished for it because two little girls were grieving and irrational and two idiot boys didn’t stop to point out that they were being ridiculous and instead gang up on someone who hadn’t done anything wrong, and viserys doesn’t give a shit. viserys tells his family to love each other, he’s telling aemond to forgive someone who hasn’t even apologized for the huge wrong he did aemond and doesn’t seem to care that he did it at all. viserys is focused on harmony, for rhaenyra’s sake, at aemond’s expense, and aemond has to sit there and take it because if his sons do something he doesn’t like, viserys will pull rank like he did at driftmark to get them to fall in line even if their physical and emotional wellbeings are at stake (seriously, if you crank the volume at the start of the last supper scene, aemond’s bitching about how much he hates the idea of dinner and aegon’s attempting to offer advice, bad advice yeah but an attempt was made, cuz they both know that there’s no way they can try to get viserys to see their side and let them beg off, because he wants rhaenyra to have happy subjects within her own family). 
daeron - we don’t know anything about daeron because the writers apparently got a 404 error while looking at his side of the targaryen family christmas wreath they call a tree, but safe to say that daeron was probably neglected by him too, and likely made the calculation to spend what appears to be the entirety of his life at oldtown with his hightower relatives rather than be around a father who treats him and his siblings like furniture. but god, viserys has screwed up his entire family beyond repair. 
brief sidenote: viserys is the worst father out of all of hotd’s fathers. no i am not kidding. lyonel, by all measures, is a good dad to his sons, from the little we see of him, daemon in pentos at least was an actively present father who cared about his daughters and the third child he was gonna have with laena (and didn’t make choices on her bodily autonomy that left her dying painfully in absolute terror as people hold her down on his orders, finally daemon doesn’t fuck up, shocking), and otto, for all his myriad of failings and how much he sucks, clearly loves alicent dearly, wasn’t an ignorant or dismissive father to her in spite of actually having male heirs, and was as close and devoted a father as he could be before his own bad choices traumatized his child for life. and then viserys is there, ignoring his children until guilt makes him pick one as his golden child at the expense of all the others, and acting as if any emotional problems of physical traumas they endure are a mild inconvenience from strangers rather than his own children. 
viserys is a bad king
the only thing close to a smart decision viserys ever made was appointing otto as hand, as otto is actually a smart politician who knows how to do his job properly. in all other aspects as a king, viserys sucks. like, he’s just genuinely, incredibly, bad at his job. like, there’s a reason why he needs otto in order to function half the time, because all the things he does are really bad
daemon - viserys should have dealt with the situation better than he did. nearly every episode has daemon fucking up in some respect, but because daemon is his brother, viserys overlooks serious flaws that could cause him problems. daemon’s public contempt for rhea royce puts runestone’s, and the entirety of the vale’s, really, loyalty to the crown in question, and thus viserys’s reliance on one of the major houses of westeros at risk. viserys keeps on trying to give daemon political positions he’s bad at, such as master of laws and master of coin, and we have no reason to disbelieve otto that he was a problem in both positions. and when he was commander of the city watch, he could have seriously turned the population of king’s landing against the targaryens with the way he was acting (and if you don’t think that would be a problem, might i remind you that losing the support of king’s landing was what got rhaenyra in serious trouble, killed one of her sons, forced her off the throne, and ultimately helped lead to her death?). and he continuously lets daemon do whatever he wants, like occupying dragonstone even though it makes him look weak, or waltz back into court after being banished, which also makes viserys look like a king not worth respecting, and a weak politician. and before i get any “daemon’s stronger than viserys and a dragonrider that’s why viserys can’t stand up to him”, viserys is an absolute monarch in a pseudo-medieval society where his word is absolute law and nothing he does can be considered illegal with seven of the finest elite warriors in the country at his beck and call and multiple armies at his disposal, if he wanted to decisively deal with daemon like any decent leader might, he could have. easily. 
the velaryons - the issue with the velaryons is where i get to point out one of the reasons i hate viserys the most, which is ironically why i dislike historical figures like mark antony, or louis xvi: i hate stupid politicians. there is nothing that irks me as much as a stupid politician. viserys is a stupid politician (sorry dave and dan but however much you thought the “i’m not a politician, i’m a queen” line slapped, being a reigning monarch makes you a politician as it is a political position that requires you to participate in politics), and nothing exemplifies that as much as how he’s handled the velaryons. viserys (somewhat) isn’t a stupid man in general, and he’s aware of the fact that the velaryons, particularly corlys, have a chip on their shoulder about the great council and how both rhaenys and any of her heirs were sidelined for viserys’s sake. and in spite of that, viserys completely bungles that relationship time and time again. 
the dismissive and outright rudeness we see him use on alicent in social situations is the same way he treats corlys’s legitimate policy concerns in small council meetings, even though corlys is a major ally and powerful lord who shouldn’t be the constant butt of the joke in front of other political actors in the realm. viserys also publicly humiliates corlys in the ending of episode 2 when he says he’s marrying alicent, not just in having strung corlys along with the potential of the match with laena before pulling the rug out from under him, but also by springing it on him there. what viserys should have done was tell corlys beforehand, in private, that he can’t accept laena’s suit, citing the fact that she’s young and something something can’t wait that long yada yada, and given corlys room to process that in private, so that he’s not taken off guard and make to look a fool in a public setting in front of other lords. 
viserys’s favoritism of rhaenyra also posed problems for him with the velaryons, politically. we know that corlys didn’t care that rhaenyra’s kids weren’t actually laenor’s, but rhaenys and vaemond clearly did, and if corlys had listened to them more, viserys’s stubbornness not to see the truth could have been seen as a massive insult towards them and retaliated, could have decided that house targaryen had broken faith by this point with house velaryon and that they don’t need to be beholden to them anymore, certainly not when house targaryen and westeros at large are dependent on house velaryon and their fleet. and while this is mostly conjecture, as the aftermath is all in the time jump, the fact that viserys appears to have done nothing about laenor’s murder, which becomes egregious when you remember that the prime suspect for laenor’s murder is viserys’s daughter and her husband, viserys’s brother, and that the whole thing reeks of institutional coverup for the sake of rhaenyra and daemon’s reputations. it’s entirely possible that part of what drove corlys off (again, corlys being a powerful ally in the realm and on the small council) was the fact that his own king, who is a stupid politician, isn’t doing anything about this crime committed against his own family, for the sake of his favorite child, and that this is just the straw that broke the camel’s back in a long list of slights that corlys has been putting up with from viserys for his entire reign. viserys’s failure on the velaryon front is extraordinarily bad politics, and bad kingship that could have put himself and his entire line in jeopardy if the writing for the velaryons wasn’t so fucking schizophrenic. 
the succession - i’ve touched on it in why viserys is a shitty father, but viserys’s failure on the succession is a huge political problem as well. viserys all but lit the powder keg of the dance of dragons on fire by not doing anything to shore up rhaenyra’s succession. it’s not just about him being a bad dad, it’s him being a bad king. a good king wouldn’t have just made the lords swear an oath, he would have prepared rhaenyra for power and given her responsibilities and showed her how to rule and planned for her transition into power, like i mentioned above, all of which he didn’t do. a good king would have looked at the time passing since the oath was sworn, and figured out a way to renew it, such as making every new lord come to king’s landing and swear the oath once they inherited, or having a big renewal like it’s a vow renewal ceremony. a good king would have codified rhaenyra’s succession into law, so that it’s not just one man usurping tradition, but the legal qualifications of the realm, especially after sons started being born to him. and if viserys were a good king and a smart politician to boot, he would have, as mentioned, added the idea of absolute primogeniture to the doctrine of exceptionalism (the doctrine of exceptionalism is the general rule jahaerys worked out to explain why targaryens were allowed to marry incestuously even though it was sin in the eyes of the seven, and seriously how hard would it have been for viserys to go “yeah not only are we allowed to do that but we can also go with whoever was born first regardless of gender, #closertogodsthanmen” and be done with it!). but instead, he does none of this, and allows the situation to fester and does nothing to rectify it on any level and lets the problems of the succession build and build and build, doesn’t even put any safeguards in place for when he dies. somewhere in the seven hells, in between the beatings aemma’s ghost should be allowed to give him for what he did to her, viserys cannot be surprised at the outbreak of civil war, he all but ensured that there WOULD be a civil war by not doing anything about all the situations he’s caused with regards to rhaenyra’s succession and the lack of follow through. 
viserys targaryen is a bad husband to both his wives, a bad father to all of his children, and a bad king to westeros, and as much as i love paddy in the role, the idea that he was a good man who was trying his best and as lovable as ned stark himself needs to fucking die. 
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tomuras · 11 months
Text
| But I’ll Know, I’ll Know |
Warnings: Dark content, Albedo gets corrupted, mention of death and fire, blasphemy(? I’m unsure about this one ?), reader is gender neutral, blood/blood mention, murder/murder mention, he/him pronouns for Albedo, no pronouns for reader, alluding to major character death, reader is morally grey, heavy on the albedo lore, death threats (technically), violence, destruction, massacre, 1,039 words.
A/n: For this piece the reader's personality is different from others I’ve written I’d say. I always wondered how I myself would react if I was told to finish off Albedo had he gone corrupt,, so this is a fic based on that what if scenario, because it intrigues me so much. Please let me know in the comments/tags what you think <3 
Summary: A story in which the reader is too weak to kill Albedo as he becomes corrupted, and the two of you destroy Mondstadt together, but the reader soon learns that such weakness comes with a price.
Tags: @snowsnetwork @suyacho
Fire. Fire burned as high as the eye could see, it was brighter than anything you’d ever seen. You looked on, the both of you, watching your beloved home burn by your hands. Albedo always told you if he were to go corrupt that he’d need you to finish the job and defend Mondstadt, but you just couldn’t. You were too weak. You tried, you really did, believe me you tried, but looking into his eyes molded with corruption, you just couldn’t help but feel pity for him. 
Foolishly, you promised him you could do just that, that you would do what must be done, and stupidly he believed you even as you insisted it would never happen with tears in your eyes. His dry ones scrunched up due to the soft smile he wore, and yours glistened with tears of sorrow for the inevitable. So, even now when he looked at you with a sadistic grin and eyes full of pain and regret, you couldn’t help but remember the promise you made, and broke, years ago. Unfortunately, it was too late. You had watched your home burn up due to the tall flames you’d both created.
The both of you had destroyed the very things you loved without a second glance. You bore the blood of a thousand men, women, and children, and there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do other than stand and watch as you spit in the anemo archon’s face, defiling the very home he had made for all of his children, including you. You wondered what he must look like looking down on the destruction of the homeland he had fostered for all who lived there. You imagined he’d either feel rage or sorrow, but ultimately, you couldn’t think hard enough on the subject to actually visualize it. Instead, you were preoccupied with Albedo and how the corruption continued to spread, and the sinister glimmer in his eyes grew more and more with each passing second.
It had surpassed the sorrow and agony that previously took place in his cerulean irises, becoming more poisoned with every passing moment. Taking his bloodstained hand he grabbed yours gingerly, a hint of the old Albedo still lingering, as he gave it a tight squeeze and smiled a wide, evil grin in your direction. You looked down to see your body covered in ash and blood, the weight of your actions staining your very essence in a way that tormented your mind in the cruelest and most unforgiving of ways. Your breath shook, body shivered, and breathing became labored; you were losing touch with reality and going completely and utterly insane. 
Had Albedo’s corruption and insanity rubbed off on you? No, that’s impossible. Those sort of things aren’t the type of thing you could infect someone with, but then why were you acting that way? Why was your mind running a mile a minute? Why were you questioning your motives now of all times, when everything was all said and done? It was too late to question the why’s and what if’s. No, you’d dug your grave and now it was time for you to lay in it, hand in hand with your lover who you so dutifully protected. 
But was it worth it? That was the question that truly ruminated in your mind, over and over, again. Looking to your side to see his face full of pride and glee you couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over you. Yes, you should feel guilty, you should feel ashamed. You had massacred all of Mondstadt without a second thought, all in the name of love. And was it worth it? Was killing everyone, destroying a peaceful nation, truly worth it all? Was it worth it to see the looks on your friends' faces when they cowered in fear? Was the wounded yet angered expression of the cavalry captain enough to make you realize just how far you’d both fallen from grace? 
You feared you’d never get the answers you wanted, and you certainly didn’t deserve them. Not after you had betrayed everyone you had ever loved, even those you simply smiled at in passing. They were all dead, or at least, that’s what you assumed from how high the smoke rose. 
You squeezed his hand tightly and asked with tears in your eyes, “What are we going to do?” 
He looked on at the fire which illuminated the darkness surrouniding you two, and then slowly looked to you. “Live.”
And it was that response which solidified just how far you had fallen, how low you had gone. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just couldn’t ignore, one that churned and burned in your gut like pure acid. You soon began to cry, because all of this was your fault. Your hands bore the blood of many people and you were forced to witness and endure the consequences to your actions. You were such a kind soul, but you were now no more better than the great sinner. All kindness had been subject to decay and dissipated into thin air, joining the other unforgivable sins which you had so carelessly committed. 
Albedo looked at you with a look of confusion, he tried reading your expression but he only grew frustrated in an attempt to predict your emotions. He squeezed your hand slightly, feeling the thick squish of the blood on both of your hands. He became very concerned but even more so when he saw a stray tear fall down your face. 
No longer could he hold it in and asked you, “What’s wrong?” His face twisted in a pained and worrisome expression.
That’s when you turned to face him, slowly. Noticing how the light of the fire grew dimmer as you turned away from it, and your heart clenched tight as you did so. It was as if you were attached to the destruction, unable to turn away from the massacre you had committed.
Once you had your full attention on Albedo you responded with tears in your eyes, a tortured smile carved across your mouth as you finally said, “I should’ve killed you while I had the chance.” 
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simonxriley · 5 months
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OCs AS TRAGIC LOVE ARCHETYPES
I was tagged by the wonderful @nightbloodbix and @corvosattano to take this uquiz for some of the kiddos. Thank you! 💜
Taglist (ask to be added or removed) @playstationmademe @captmactavish @carlosoliveiraa @leviiackrman @alexxmason @killerspinal @chuckhansen @voidika @shegetsburned @macs-babies
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06. CANíBALES; DEVOURER
Love's a knife to skin to you, a vein to woven muscle, blood puddle before you. You listened to all the promises of a stranger's relief and feel the drain of a shower head running it all down again. You committed another murder; kissed and bruised skin with a clench to a quivering wrist and went home in the defeaning quiet of a taxi. There's mold covered rage within you. If to take a heart home with you, you'd bite your way through muscle and ribcage first. Pleasure comes, but there will be no devouring past it. There is fear in settling down and being seen. There is a glass screen between these bodies and you. Relax your tight jaw and feel the real canine fear beneath that scabbed up cavity. The sacrifice of opening up is needed if to be loved as you deeply wish inside. Desire doesn't discriminate between hands or spoken word. Why should you?
A/N: I was going to say this isn't Sky, but it kind of is. Just not how she is now. This is more back in her Marine days, before Rainbow.
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05. MOTHER'S DAUGHTER
Being her child was akin to a whispered apology, another wailing hug, another day you repent for complaining about the fact that she hasn't said anything nice to you. You bring her flowers and are met with the inconvenience of a vase that has to be found instead. You bake for her and feel the warmth of fresh cut bread fill the kitchen; but the dirty dishes remain. Even if you were to bring in the mail and lay down the knife next to your plate, she'll cradle another. Love is an endless apology to you. Averting eyes to desperate tears and sunken teeth in lower lip at the dinner table. Do not repent for who you are, as it is enough. Gather your courage to love again and reveal the honeydewed structure of a swelling heart once you feel safe to do so instead. Love isn't a confession booth of all you are not, settle down and unclasp your hands. You're all anyone could want already.
A/N: This is half accurate when it comes to Liz.
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03. CUPID'S BROTHER
You have been love adjacent all your life. The faint spill of another story that softly grazed your shoulders when stood too close. Whether by design or not, you have yet to build a clear image of what love means to you. The interlocked weaving of a picture locket bound to strand of hair when hugged to tight, the sunpatch that meets your soles in glaring sun dried fields when running with a friend. You are not far from love, but moving between line of collision and avoidance at all times. A faint glimmer on sea lake surface of what could be. There is time to find what you want, find whether it's enough as is. Love is in you, breathing in another day. Continue as you are, realizing the love that is slowly blossoming in your life as it sharpens and clears in brushstrokes.
A/N: This is 100% Callisto. She has no clue what love is to her.
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05. MOTHER'S DAUGHTER
Being her child was akin to a whispered apology, another wailing hug, another day you repent for complaining about the fact that she hasn't said anything nice to you. You bring her flowers and are met with the inconvenience of a vase that has to be found instead. You bake for her and feel the warmth of fresh cut bread fill the kitchen; but the dirty dishes remain. Even if you were to bring in the mail and lay down the knife next to your plate, she'll cradle another. Love is an endless apology to you. Averting eyes to desperate tears and sunken teeth in lower lip at the dinner table. Do not repent for who you are, as it is enough. Gather your courage to love again and reveal the honeydewed structure of a swelling heart once you feel safe to do so instead. Love isn't a confession booth of all you are not, settle down and unclasp your hands. You're all anyone could want already.
A/N: This doesn't fit Phaedra at all.
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baggebythesea · 1 year
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Princess Glimmer and the Day of Many Choices: Save the Bat (16/?)
"DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!"
"You can't kill him!" Entrapta pleaded. "Just look at those cute little ears."
"I think you will find they are perfectly capable to kill me," Hordak rumbled, "and well within their right to do so."
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"KILL HIM!" the first in line of the lynch mob shouted.
"But he's chaaaanged," Entrapta promised.
"Which will not wash away the blood from my many crimes as a warlord and invader," Hordak said with arrogant voice, "nor the pain, rage or rightul desire for retribution felt by the survivors."
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"Actually, brother, I think crimes commited while brainwashed don't count," the clone who had taken the name 'Wrong Hordak' said with a little wink. "Wink."
"However dubious that defence might be, such comfort is denied me," Hordak rumbled. "I commited the atrocities I did in the name of our father-brother willingly and under no influence other  than my own misguided sense of pride."
"LESS TALKING, MORE BURNING AT THE STAKE," the loudest person in the lynch mob shouted again, a little sprite girl with pink dress and transparant wings.
"SIC SEMPER TYRRANIS!" George the librarian cried.
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"ENOUGH TALK! KICK HIM IN THE DICK!" the pink girl cried.
"Noooo, don't kick him in the dick," Entrapta pleaded.
"I'LL KICK HIM IN THE DICK!" the pink girl rushed forward. Hordak watched in contempt as her foot conencted with the crouch area of his power armour.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch," the girl wined. "Did you all see that? That was child abuse! Kill him!"
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"Hoooordak," Entarpta wined. "Lets go home and put together an IKEA bookshelf together instead."
"No, my love," Hordak said with stoic voice. "I have to face the consequences of my action."
Entrapta watched him in confusion for a few moments.
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"No, you don't," she said after a little while. "I have an hover scooter right here. We could just leave."
"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," Hordak proudly said.
"Oooooooookey...." Entrapta said. She looked uneasily at the crowd. "Well, you get on with that, and I'll just step to the side and build a tiiiiiny murder-robot real quick..."
"SILENT ENIM LEGES INTER ARMA!" Geroge cried.
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"KILL HIM," the pink girl cried. "BEAT HIM WITH A STICK! FOCUS ON HOW ANGRY YOU ARE WITH THIS EVIL WARLORD AND NOT WITH THE CURRENT WAREABOUTS OF ANY OF YOUR BELONGINGS!" she helped herself to the purse of a fellow mob-member and turned her attention back to Hordak, when she suddenly became aware of three women standing in a half circle around here with arms crossed.
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"Eh.... oh, I'm such a sweet innocent girl..." 'she' said with an unconvincing giggle. "Anyway, I think I should get..."
"Hello, 'Flutterina'," Glimmer said.
"Or should we say 'Double Trouble'?" Despara said.
"I'm so happy to bump into you again," Catra said.
"Oh no, I'm not Double Trouble," Double Trouble said with a big grin. "But whoever it is sounds handome. Anyway, I should get going..."
"You are not going anywhere," Despara said.
"Actually, just let her go," Glimmer sighed. "It's not Double Trouble. I suppose this must be the real Flutterina."
"What?" Catra asked.
"What?" Double Trouble asked.
"You don't think Double Trouble would be stupid enough to disguise themselves as the one person in Etheria we recognize as them, do you?" Glimmer asked.
"I suppose that WOULD be stupid," Despara hesitantly agreed.
"Yeah, you are right," Catra agreed with a grin. "Also, there's no chance they would play as unconvincing and obnoxiously as this. I suppose it must be a real child."
"Hey!" Double Trouble protested.
"Not to mention what a lame scheme it is to set up a lynch mob simply as a cheap distraction," Glimmer grinned. "Double Trouble might not be the smartest operator, but at least they're better than that."
"OK, OK," Double Trouble said and took their own guise. "Just stop. I know you're trying to be smart, but..."
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"IT WAS DOUBLE TROUBLE ALL ALONG!" Despara gasped and grabbed the changelling. "I GOT THEM!"
"Nothing to see here," Glimmer said to the mob. "Just bed time for Flutterina is all..."
"I will sing a lullaby," Catra grinned, and the four of them left the scene, where the mob kept trying to work up the courage for someone to be the first to attack the aloof Hordak.
"CETERUM CENSEO HORDAK ESSE DELENDAM!" Geroge cried. "Oh, hey, Bow," he added in normal voice.
"Hi dad," Bow said. "Um... could you stop attacking Hordak, please."
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"Now, now, Bow," George chided. "violently overthrowing despots by the means of angry mobs is a time honoured tradition."
"I wrote my thesis about it," Lance added.
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"And juuuuuuuuust a little laser..." Entrapta muttered for herself, tinkering with a growing contraption.
"But you can't kill him!" Bow pleaded.
Part 15: https://www.tumblr.com/baggebythesea/712016363195170816/save-the-bat-it-is-next-chapter-will-be-up
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wallgirl · 2 years
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Beelzebub x Fem!Reader x Lilith - Grief
1500 words. SFW. Warnings: Mild violence, mention of murder, death threats.
After the murder of your beloved friend Lilith, you seek out her killer to exact revenge.
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"I'm not asking, I am ordering you to tell me." Your voice rose in anger. "Is he in there or not?"
"I cannot let you go in!" The ancient librarian attempted to shield the door. "Please, think about this! That cursed man is dangerous! He killed Lucifer; harming you would be nothing-"
"Enough!" You bellowed. "I'll go and see for myself, then!"
"Please, Miss, don't go in!" The librarian cried, eyes alarmed behind his spectacles. "I'm begging you!"
But it was too late. You forced the door open with a harsh kick, letting it thud back against the wooden wall. "Beelzebub!"
There was nothing but silence. The vaulted main room of the library was strewn about with papers and books everywhere, with only a handful of shrunken candles lighting the tall shelves. The only signs of life were a few iron plates with partially-eaten crusts of bread and apple cores.
"Miss, please..."
You ignored the librarian's beseeching and strode in, lips pursed in silent rage. "I know you're in here, Beelzebub." Your steps slowed as you peered into each doorway, searching for the demon. "Come out now and spare me the trouble of dragging you out."
There was no answer in the still, dusty darkness. It didn't take long for you to check every room in the building except for the basement; the most ancient and forbidden tomes were kept down there. Of course he would be locked away in the underground, studying dark magic. It was so fitting for a depraved monster like him.
Without ceremony, you kicked the basement door open as well. This one was lined with iron and didn't swing open quite as fast, allowing you a moment of bitter anticipation as it drew back to reveal the demon you were hunting sitting at a far table.
Your prey did not look up to acknowledge your presence at all. His eyes continued to scan the page he was engrossed in without pause.
His lack of reaction - his passiveness compared to your overwhelming sorrow - made you snap. "Beelzebub!"
"Leave," he said quietly. "I have no business with you... and, surely, you can have no business with me."
Of course, he would dismiss you. You knew you looked unhinged, and far less dangerous than any of the other creatures of the realm - hair unkempt from your journey, red-rimmed eyes wild with grief, and battered cloak pulled loosely about your thin frame.
Well, he was about to learn a lesson in what grief could drive even a small woman like you to do.
"I beg to differ," you snarled. From underneath your cloak you drew one of a dozen poisoned blades. "I'm here on behalf of Lilith."
That got his attention, just in time for the blade to soar past his head and lodge into one of the many volumes stacked behind him. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you got a look at the face of your friend's killer. He looked far too young and slight to be any sort of threat, and the delicate skin beneath his eyes was dark and sunken from lack of sleep. He would've evoked pity in you, if you hadn't known he had murdered your beloved Lilith and her friends in cold blood. Perhaps that pitiful appearance was what had helped him to take advantage of their kindness.
"Yes, Lilith. Don't tell me I'm the only one that's showed up to avenge her?" You stalked closer until only the table was preventing you from strangling him. "That's just as well. I knew her best."
Lilith. Her murderer continued to stare at you with that pathetic look on his face; the face of a broken man barely holding up a facade of stoicism.
"You're much more pathetic looking than I thought you'd be, cursed Beelzebub." You laughed coldly. "But that's fine. It'll make it that much easier for me to put you down, like the rabid demon you are." Your hand slipped under your cloak once more. "...I owe Lilith that much." You were close enough to the room's solitary candle for its light to catch a glimmer of welling-up tears in your eyes.
"...And I would grant you your respite..." He said slowly, his words almost measured. Your eyes widened in surprise. "...But the death you offer me is far too clean and painless. Begone." His gaze lowered, and a sharp tremor throughout the chamber threw you off your feet. You fell hard on the ground, struggling to prop yourself upright.
"I don't care if it suits you or not!" You raged, grabbing blindly for one of the many daggers pinned inside your cloak. "You think you deserve to name your punishment?! Lilith herself will decide your eternal torment once you've died and-"
A large, pale hand quickly seized your wrist. "Don't."
Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. His dark-rimmed eyes were level with your own. "Those knives are poisoned. Aren't they?" There was no change in his voice as he admonished you. "You would grab at one so carelessly, and cause Lilith more grief?"
You stared vacantly at him. Cause Lilith more grief...?
Oh... Because I probably would've cut myself on one of those blades. Lilith always did say I acted too blindly and clumsily when I was upset.
You recalled her smile with pain. Lilith, if you knew what I was doing... would this make you sad? Would you have called me foolish, barging in to face your murderer so blindly?
Who am I kidding? Of course you would've. Oh, Lilith, I'm sorry. I've completely lost my way.
"Lilith..." You crumpled with sorrow at the memory, clutching your free hand tight to your chest. "I wasn't even thinking... I hate it... But you're right. This would have only made her sad..."
Beelzebub didn't respond.
"She looked out for me a lot," you found yourself confessing suddenly. "The day we first met, it was like she knew I needed a friend. Someone to watch over me. I didn't have any family, and she became like a big sister to me. She was a sister to me." You drew a deep, rattling breath. "And now you took her away, and I have no one. The light she shared is gone. No one can replace her. It's all your fault!"
Your accusation hung heavy in the air until an unexpected whisper pierced it.
"Lucifer," Beelzebub whispered hoarsely.
"What?" You thought you'd misheard him. "Lucifer?"
"She reminded me of him... They were so alike."
The anger in your veins reignited. "Lucifer? Lilith's friend? You mean, the other angel you killed?"
He fell silent again.
Your hands were shaking again with blind rage. You had to leave, or else risk doing something Lilith wouldn't have wanted. You hated him for having known her well enough to throw that bit of truth in your face. "...You know, in the last letters she wrote me, she mentioned you all the time. She would have followed you anywhere... And yet, you killed her. And now you have the audacity to act remorseful..." Your trembling fingers fiddled with the handle of a knife beneath your cloak. "Remorseful, like you wish you hadn't done it. Like you didn't make the decision to kill her."
He remained still in the candlelight, blood-shot eyes staring at you too close. Like the unreadable gaze of an insect. "...You want me dead, rightfully, like countless others," he whispered. "I know it's what I deserve. And what I deserve is a death far more painful and bleak than you can give me. So wait for a little longer. And then, I promise... Death will come to avenge Lilith."
You stared at him in shock. The black void of his eyes held secrets and regrets you weren’t privy to. The weight of his words lingered heavily in the air between the two of you. "...I don't understand what happened that night. I... I hope I never understand the mind of a monster like you. But..." You stared down at your tear-stained skirt. "All right. I won't cause her more grief. I'll let fate deal with you instead - as long as you can keep that promise."
He finally released your wrist, and you slowly got to your feet, legs aching from your fall, before pulling a handful of crumpled papers from your bag. There was a moment of hesitation before you threw them half-heartedly in his direction, letting them flutter to the ground. "These are the letters she wrote me. The parts that she mentioned you in, at least. I thought I'd read them to you before I killed you, but maybe it'd be better for you to ruminate over them yourself." Your lower lip quivered.
Beelzebub's gaze shifted only momentarily to the ink-smeared papers; fast enough that you might've missed it if you hadn't been staring at him so intently. "I'll be waiting for that painful, messy death to come your way, then, Beelzebub."
You rushed out of the room before the tears overwhelmed you once more.
Beelzebub walked slowly to the scattered letters. He knelt down and traced one finger over Lilith's handwriting with a delicate, guilty touch. Love, Lilith.
"We'll wait together," he whispered.
---
Author’s note: Ah, the intricacies of shared grief when one of the two is actually the murderer but not exactly.
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bunnboi · 1 year
Text
Reunion
Joey stares up at his father, ears pinned to his head in quiet rage, soft tears glimmering in his eyes. Leonardo stares back, brow creased softly in what reads as vague concern and soft sadness. “Father.” “Joey. Hi.” “Hello.” Joey’s voice is ice, something he had learned from his Auntie Cass. Speaking of a Casey, Junior’s standing behind him, much more murderous rage in his eyes as he grips his hockey stick. “So. Care to explain yourself?” Joey pulls a chair up, pushing it toward his father in a gesture that clearly says, ‘Sit, before I make you sit.’ Leo sits. “Kids, I understand you are. Upset-” “UPSET!?” Casey practically exclaims, glaring furiously. “How the fuck long have you even been here!? Where WERE YOU!?” “I woke up when the Technodrome was exploding. I was going to come find you, but I was really injured, and I had to lay low for a few weeks.” “It’s been. Months.” Casey growls. “I know. I’ve been trying to heal up enough to come find you. I’m sorry.” Leo says softly. “Where have you even been.” “Staying at your uncle Rocky’s place. It was… really weird to explain who I was.” He laughs a little, uncomfortably. Joey tries hard not to smile. Uncle Rocky was a lot of fun. “So what, when were you going to come back? Huh?” “In a week or so from now. You finding me just uh… Sped up the process. I’m actually still healing a little.” Leo shifts in his seat. “…Okay this is incredibly uncomfortable are you two gonna keep standing over me like this or?” Joey tries to stifle his laugh. “You’re smiling. I saw that smile. I saw it.” Leo points, grinning. “Whatever, dad.” Joey wipes his face of tears, kicking him in the leg a little, half heartedly. It still hurts like hell. “I missed you.” “I missed you too, kids.” Leo holds out his arms for hugs. Casey glares at him. Joey Looks at him, and they have a silent conversation for a couple minutes before Casey sighs and hugs Leo and Joey. “Love you. And I’m sorry.” “I’m still gonna kick your ass in the morning.” “I know Case. I know.”
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