#( i just wanted to write some pained personal shit for him about his mother )

[womanmanipulator]

goodbye, yellow brick road.

spencer reid x gn!bau!reader.

synopsis: naturally, as a hard-headed and stubborn young adult, you’d chase after the potential unsub when he’s let go due to legality. having your heart set on getting a confession out of him. what could go wrong?

(content warning: graphic, somewhat detailed? major character death, stab wound(s)?, abuse, blood, very angsty. i did some research to write this.)

~

it’s pouring, hands grip the steering wheel tightly. speeding through the rain.

you were stubborn.

hard-headed.

cocky.

it was only natural, being new to the job. only five months in. you weren’t used to work sticking with you and chasing you around, even when you got home. the release of david sallow from the interrogation room earlier today didn’t sit well with you. you knew that sick bastard killed all those young men and women. and you were going to get a confession out of him.

sure, it was unprofessional. but the others wouldn’t even mind when you caught him and got a confession out of that asshole. that’s what you told yourself as you pulled into the gas station his SUV was parked at. you climb out of your car, striding towards where he stood. david was walking out of building when his eyes caught you. he furrows his brows, confused.

“you’re that person from the FBI.” he states. standing a little awkwardly with a smug look playing on his stupid face. you narrow your eyes. “i am.” you say confidently. “and i know you killed those people, david.” you add. getting straight to the point. “i didn’t, and you let me go today. leave me alone.” he says sternly, smirk now vanished. “i will. catch you. it all depends on when.” you glare. if looks could kill..

“admit it.” you press. he starts to get agitated. talking a bold step towards him, you get personal. an intimidation tactic. he isn’t fazed however, you are set on getting a confession though. “i don’t owe you shit, lady.” he hisses. “listen. if you don’t back off, somethin’ bads gonna happen.” he threatens.

“you killed all those men and women because they remind you of your mother and father, mr. wallows.” you say, a quietness fills the air. david’s fists ball up and a grumble comes out of his throat.

“your parents would abuse you. they’d hit you whenever they got the chance. they went so far as to make up things to be mad at you about so they could hit you, eventually they stopped giving reason and just took their frustration out on you. you want to get them back, except you can’t. you killed them, but that didn’t quench your thirst david, oh no it didn’t—“ you start to list off. you are cut off by a yell coming from the man infront of you. he charges at you with a knife.

everything happens so quick. how did you miss him grabbing his knife? you were know for being so attentive and quick thinking —

. . .

pain blossoms in the back of your cranium as you are knocked to the concrete. brain rattled, you’re confused. you try to reach for your gun but you’re stopped by the plunge of the knife in your abdomen. you can’t feel the pain, yet. the adrenaline overpowers it. coursing through your veins as your insides become outsides. a weak attempt to fight back is made, but you can’t do much with a two-hundred pound man above you, stabbing you.

i should have stayed on the farm.

i should have listened to my old man.

a warm liquid trickles out of you as your breath is knocked out of you lungs, another punch of the knife in your weakening body. you try to gasp for air but it’s as if your lungs are useless. you don’t even hear the store owner running out of the building and screaming at david.

he flees from the scene.

you know you can’t hold me forever,

i didn’t sign up with you.

when you gain a grasp on what’s going on, the store owner has sat you up against the brick wall of the building. propping you up. he has pressure on your wound as his phone wails out inaudible sound. they might as well be speaking another language. the pain of a thousand needles pricking you takes over your belly and side. trying to move and get away from the pain, you make an attempt to get up. you are held down though by a familiar face. it takes time to register it.

i’m not a present for your friends to open

blinking a few times to clear your vision, eyes heavy. you are met with spencer. “hey, hey, stay still. please.” he begs desperately. you’ve never heard him sound like this. it worries you. you don’t know when spencer replaced the nice man beside you, but you don’t think too long on it. as you can feel your heart beat in your side and everytime you try to take a deep breath it’s like a punch in the lungs. a sharp, aching pain. you aren’t getting any air. in reality you are, but. your brain can’t register it. more of the thick, scarlet liquid trickles and sprays out of your wound as you try to heave for air. you cant remember the name.

this boys to young to be singin’

the blues.

everything’s so distant and blurry. your body fights for life as pain washes over you in a new form. you want to scream, cry out but you can’t. spencer’s trying to coax you as he holds a crushing pressure on your wound but it’s like talking through a glass window. “you gotta stay awake for me, okay?” he says. tears pouring down his face.

that’s weird, you’d never seen him cry.

“wake up rookie, keep your eyes open.” he tries. speaking firmly. he wants to sound strong but fails. your ears start to ring and you feel as if you’re underwater. slowly, a black ring starts to creep into your vision. you want to close your eyes.

you’re really tired all the sudden, the pains disappeared. as if it was never there. it’s really peaceful. spencer slaps you in the face, knocking you out of your trance as you can hear sirens blaring loudly in the distance. “just a little longer, stay awake for me please, trouble.” he tries, his hands put more pressure on you. you barely register it though. eyes slipping closed again.

slap.

eyes slowly open, vision obstructed. you can barely make out anything as the black rings taken up 90% of your sight. everything sounds far away and echoey. the words he says come in one ear and out the other, rattling and bouncing around in your brain a first.

it’s really tempting to fall asleep.

so goodbye, yellow brick road.

where the dogs of society howl.

spencer knows as soon as you close your eyes you’re gone.

“we got a DOA.”

you can’t plant me in your penthouse,

i’m goin’ back to my plough.

. . .

oh i’ve finally decided my future lies,

beyond the yellow brick road.

~

wowowowoowowow

thsi was written in an hour. might be a little choppy, my first time trying to write smth longer than 400 words 😒.

lmk if ya want more 🎀

mwah mwah mwah

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #reader death

[strawbsj]

hi, can u do gp Karina x reader?

I have been feral over rina and step sis smut so I had to write one!!!

STEP-SIS RINA!!

Pairings: Step-sister G!p Karina x step-sister Fem reader!

Word count: 1k-ish

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, p in v, words bitch, slut, whore etc used, mean Karina, switch reader and rina, make out session, parents divorce, pantie stealing, kinda fuck girl rina, step-cest, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your Willy), not proofread and just nasty smut!!!

—————————————————————————

Moving or changing environments was never something you enjoyed. Each time you moved to a new house, you were met with an unfamiliar and hollow feeling. When you found out that your parents were separating and everyone would be starting a new life in different homes, it felt like a sharp pain in your heart. And to add to that, your mother has found a new man, which means that you’re going to move in with him and his bitch of a daughter.

Karina was never nice to you, you knew her since high school. She was a bitch, heartbreaker, mean attitude and what you call a whore. She has fucked every girl you’d think of principals daughter, fucked. Girls football Teams captain, done ages ago. Girls basketball teams coach, done. Every girl that would pass by, lured already.

She could literally get anyone down between her legs, sucking her cock dry. Only one person has never acknowledged her, you. You saw her as an attention-begging bitch, whose chin is up.

That made Karina’s jaw clench in humiliation. She made tons of plans but none of them worked, all of them failing miserably. The way you never even glance her way or give her the attention that she wants. She almost gave up until…

She found out her dad was moving in with your mom, it was like discovering a $100 bill on the street, waiting for someone to claim it. And what a fool she would be if she didn't grip that chance.

During the first meeting between your mother, yourself, and her father, she was smiling brightly and talking non-stop. She was showering you and your mom with compliments and fake pouting when it was time for you to leave. Her fake act was so fake that it made you feel nauseous and you wanted to vomit.

And that’s how she acted every time your mom and her man were around, doing the most stomach aching fake shit she could ever muster. You never even flashed a smile towards her, your mom thought you were too mean and rude to your step-sister who was only trying to be a good sister to you.🥺😔

She eavesdropped when your mom was talking to you, or more like complaining about how you should start getting grip of your mean attitude. Even tho she is the mean one here, she only plastered one of her signature smirks and headed towards her room.

Your parents were leaving for their honeymoon, leaving you and that annoying thing all alone and….together. Like you thought things can’t get worse but oh how wrong you were.

You hated to admit or acknowledge this, the agitated tension replaced by sexual tension. You don’t know why or how, but the way she left lingering touches on your thigh. Or how she rubbed her crotch against your heat when passing by you in the kitchen or how she stole your used panties and jerked off to them, you know each piece of your panties and the one she stole was your favorite so you immediately noticed when it got lost, only finding it under her bed days later when your mom told you to clean her room since Karina is all day out.

You smirked to yourself and decided to play with her further, your outfits getting skimpier and skimpier each passing day. Your clothed heat rubbing against her uncomfortable erection a little longer or the way your boobs press against her back.

You were laying comfortably on your bed scrolling through whatever shit that popped up into your feed. Karina was out in those frat parties probably a girl bent over and against some available counter for her, ramming her cock in and out of that slutty pussy.

But to your surprise she was not. She was downstairs having her own bar at home, drinking anything that she had her hands on, her alcohol tolerance was high and she could drink and be perfectly fine. So when she came to your room, alcohol smell overshadowing her expensive perfume you knew that she had drunk a lot and is not in her right senses.

“Karina what are you-“ you got cut off with a strong whiskey tasting kiss, it was like you were the one who drunk not her, for actually kissing her back. Even tho your mind hated this, your heart loved every bit of it. Your lips dancing against each other’s passionately. She bit your lower lip earning a gasp from you, her tongue moving inside your mouth exploring your mouth, then her tongue started sucking your tongue.

Her hands roamed all over your body, not knowing where to touch first. Her fingers impatiently fiddling with the straps of your top, letting it slide down along the strap of your bra. Your neck area and the sexy parting of your boobs, leaving her mouth watered. She started kissing down your jaw then neck and chest, coating all this area with her saliva, and the saliva that once was in your mouth.

Her hands squishing and squeezing your soft mounds, the smell of the alcohol and those intoxicating kisses making your brain shut and mind dizzy. Desire swiping off all the thoughts of this being wrong.

Your hand traveled down to her sweats, palming the rock hard erection that she has been slowly humping against your legs. You massaged it and rubbed small circles over it, making her hiss in the pleasurable pain, wanting more.

You changed positions,you now on top of her. Your clit making contact with her base, grinding yourself against it, high pitched moans threatening to fall, but you couldn’t care less and let them fall.

Her swinging her hips and rubbing her erection back at you. The friction more and better.

You lifted yourself up and slid down her sweats then boxers. Her cock springing out, red and heavy, blood rushing through it. You discarded your shorts and top, throwing them in the same pile as her sweatpants. Your legs were in each side of her hips, you lifted yourself up once more before sinking down on her length. A choked moan from you and a groan from her. Her tip hit your g-spot perfectly. You stayed there not moving, enjoying the sight of her so desperate and hungry for you. Squirming trying to start thrusting back up at you, gripping your waist so tightly, that red nail marks were there.

You leaned down on her, making your boobs suffocate her. She took a deep inhale, processing your perfume. The smell that made her crave you more and a low whine escaped her lips.

You decided enough teasing. You started sinking your core down to meet her tip, which parted your folds deliciously. Whimpers coming from the both of you. You fucked yourself faster, using her as your own personal dildo.

Her loud groans echoing through the room along with your moans. She was always dominant in every hook up she had, but being the submissive for once was different type of pleasure. One she didn’t think she’d like this much.

The pornographic scene and noises that came out of you and the way you basically were jumping on her dick. Made her cum shoot deep inside your womb, your tummy slightly swollen and your juices ran down your thighs then her pelvis. Your tight hole squeezing her now more.

She laid there limp and you laid on top of her. Not long after she was in a deep slumber, you were admiring her deeply, you never knew how pretty she actually is till now.

Deep down you maybe loved this even more than her.

#karina smut #aespa karina x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut #aesp karina #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yu jimin x fem reader #aespa jimin #aespa hard thoughts #aespa hard hours #aespa x you #karina x reader #aespa karina #karina

[babyshoesnerdshit]

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.

#please be nice to me #this is the the first fanfic i've ever written #well published #but still #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #transmasc reader #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere red hood #yandere red hood x reader #platonic yandere red hood #platonic yandere red hood x reader #yandere jason todd #platonic yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #platonic yandere jason todd x reader #yandere red robin #platonic yandere red robin #yandere tim drake #platonic yandere tim drake #yandere red robin x reader #yandere tim drake x reader

[lizstory]

Betrayal

Ethan Landry x fem reader (Stu Machers niece)

warnings- Scream 6 Spoilers! death

summary- Ethan wasn't the person you thought he was. He was your boyfriend, the loving, sweet, awkward boy you met when you came to New York, but that wasn't the case. He was someone else, something else.

wordcount- 1,400

A/n- I want to write more Ethan stories. some preghostface and some during ghostface killing. I also will be wrtiting more marvel characters so if you have any request please leave some!

To keep the last name Macher was a mistake. You had never thought about it before till this very moment. Standing before Quinn and Ethan, or so you thought, who Ethan was. He was your loving boyfriend there for you when people approached you asking if your uncle was still alive and if you would turn out just like he did. Stu Macher had died way before you were born, so you never got to meet him, but you did take an interest in learning about him. He was family, after all, despite being a serial killer. THE serial killer that partly inspired the rest of the Ghostface killers. 

"Maybe my mother was right," You sighed, closing your laptop. 

Ethan rubbed his hand up and down your back, soothing your pain. He knew about your past no matter how fast you tried to escape it. You trusted him. He placed a soft kiss on your temple. "Don't be too hard on yourself, baby." 

You rubbed your face. All you wanted to know was why your uncle did it all. He and Billy Loomis created a world where everyone had to double-take over their shoulder to ensure no one was following them. Was he indeed just a psychotic like your mother described? She always hated when you took an interest in what happened all those years ago, saying that becoming a killer runs in the family. 

"He was just a sick fuck. Doing all of this just for fun" Your heart ached, he was a killer, but he was your uncle. You created a version of him in your mind, where he was alive and well. He was the fun uncle that took you to eat a shit ton of junk food and always got you in and out of trouble. 

Ethan pulled you closer by his side, your head leaning on his shoulder. "You aren't like him, love." 

"Y/n right now is not the time to zone out!" Sam yelled

Quinn burst laughing, and the knife pointed at you. "And the funny part is that you believed Ethan got with you because he loved you." 

You stared at him. This whole time your eyes were glued onto him. He didn't smile when his gaze met yours. You had no idea what to feel at the moment. You were mad that he did this but wanted to burst into tears because, finally, someone knew the true you and loved you. 

"His favorite was Stu Macher, so you don't even know how excited he was to find out that the girl that was crushing on him was actually related to The Stu Macher" Quinn was satisfied with the fear in your eyes. She needed everyone in that room to feel the pain she was feeling. "He was so fascinated to hear about your family's details. You took him in and trusted him with everything." 

Your eyes prickled with water. They found their way back to Ethan. "Fuck you" 

"You all deserve this. You killed our fucking brother!" Quinn screamed 

Realization hit everyone. This wasn't the family that they pretended to be. This was a grieving family, and if they were after Tara and Sam, their brother's death had to do with what happened to them in Woodsboro. 

"Your Richie's family," Tara whispered. 

Sam stared at Bailey. His eyes filled with anger. His son was killed, and he was standing before his murder. "He was so pathetic," Sam whispered, gun pointing at her head. "He made his girlfriend do all the killing, then cried like a baby when I slit his throat," she spat with venom.

Bailey was inches from pulling the trigger, but Sam jabbed the knife in his hip. Quinn ran to help her dad. You tackled her to the ground before she could reach your friend. You pulled the knife out of your back pocket—the knife your uncle used to kill all his victims. Quinn's knife fell out of her grip when you tackled her.

"My mother always said it was in my blood to become a killer," You whispered. The knife was high up in the air and came crashing down to the middle of her chest. Before it made contact, arms were wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, then backward. 

"Y/n!" Tara yelled

You wanted to reach out to her hand and have her come and help you, but she would already be occupied. "Tara, watch out!" You screamed before being pulled behind a curtain. 

Ethan let go of his grip. You quickly turned around, and the restraint on the knife's handle only tightened, finally being face-to-face and alone with Ethan. He didn't run to attack. He didn't even take a stand to protect any vulnerable areas. You were relieved he wasn't attacking. You had no idea if you could even go through with hurting him. He was sick and used you to learn about his favorite fucking killer, but he was still the loving boyfriend you had all those moments with. 

"You have to understand why we are doing this" His voice was shaky. 

"I don't" You wanted to yell at him but also wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and wake up from this nightmare. "My brother is gone because Richie was so involved in scary movies, but you don't see me becoming a killer." 

Ethan stayed silent. He wasn't the only one grieving the loss of an older brother. He never understood why you didn't get revenge, why you didn't crave the feeling of the blood being splattered all over you as your victim screamed for help, but they'd be too late. 

You drop your knife on the ground as your tears fall down your face. "I trusted you." 

Ethan stepped closer, but you only moved back. He stayed still, knowing he couldn't hold you anymore. "What I felt was real." 

"Fuck you, Ethan" Your voice couldn't even be at its average volume no matter how hard you tried. "I believed you loved me. That performance deserved a fucking Oscar" You wiped the tears that screamed down your face. It felt wrong to wipe them away. Ethan always did it for you. 

"Baby, I did love you. I loved you so much" He stepped closer again, and you didn't step away this time. It looked like your body was fighting itself from going to him. He walked in front of you, his figure hovering over you. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up. "I still love you. You can walk away, and nothing will happen to you. We can live the life we were building together"

It sounded nice, but it could never happen. Ethan and his family hurt too many of your friends. He made a wound that could never be recovered. You placed a hand on his jaw, pulling his face in closer. He stared at your lips. Was this you accepting his offer? You closed the gap. His hand snaked to your waist while your hand was placed onto his shoulder, stabilizing your balance. The kiss was deep, salvia connecting your mouths in the moments you pulled away. 

"I'll love you forever." 

That was the last thing Ethan heard. The next moment, him falling to his knees. He looked up, tears streaming down your face and a knife in your hand. When had you grabbed your knife off the floor? He looked down and saw his hip was impaled. You fell to your knees, holding his weight in your arms. He didn't try to attack you too. He could never hurt you like that. You were too pretty to be harmed. He just sat there, finding comfort in his last moments being in your arms, the arms of the one person he loved. Your heart was pure, and he would forever hate himself for tainting it with this situation. 

He strained a smile, your sobs hurt him, but he liked to think about what kind of life he would've had with you if none of this had ever happened. If Ghostface wasn't real and his family wasn't influenced by it. Would he still have met you? He would have. Quinn was wrong. He wasn't with you just because you were Stu Macher's niece. He was with you because you were you. 

You placed his body on the ground. His breathing was gone, and his heart stopped. He was gone, and the blood was on your hands now. You wanted to stay there. Crying into your dead boyfriend's chest, praying that he would magically come back and tell you this was just a joke. At least then, he would hug you and tell you everything was ok. You forced yourself away from his body. He wasn't the only killer, and your two friends were still left alone with them. 

#ethan landry #scream franchise #scream #scream 6 #fanfic #scream fanfic #ethan #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #x reader #reader insert #scream 6 ethan #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines

[mediumgayitalian]

I would lay down my life to hear more about Will's relationship with his mom from you

will LOVES his mama. SO bad.

naomi loves him too. obviously. that's her BABY.

naomi had will when she was nineteen. she was kicked out as soon as she started showing -- came home from her friend's house to find her guitar and packed backpack on the lawn. choked it back, turned around, got back in her car, and started driving.

texas was warm, at least. lot harder to sleep in your car when it's cold out.

course, it's also hard to sleep in your car when you're pregnant.

when things were toughest, when she had heartburn seemingly everywhere and her ankles hurt and her feet swelled up and she was just scared and furious and defeated all at once, she'd grit her teeth, clench her fists, unclench them, place them gently on her belly, and mutter it's you and me and sheer fucking will, baby. this was a regular occurance.

she sang to herself. constantly, of course she did. as she bussed tables and scrubbed dishes and played and played and played her guitar, she was singing. dolly parton was in there a lot, and and reba mcentire and june carter cash. tina turner every day of the week. she had that swingin, raspy voice like glass of smoked whiskey.

there's a reason she attracted apollo's attention.

when her water broke she started sobbing and didn't stop. she hadn't cried in months and suddenly all her terror hit her at once -- she was alone, she had slept with a god, she was going to have a kid and she didn't have a fucking place to raise it. and the fucking hospital bills -- what the hell was she gonna do about the hospital bills --

it hurt like sweet hell. she knew it was gonna hurt but god. god, fuck, it hurt, it hurt so bad, and the only person holding her hand was the nurse with the kind eyes, but she wanted her fucking mama. but she hadn't spoken to mama in months. and she hadn't smiled at her in longer.

she'd heard a thousand stories about how all the pain melts away the first time you touch your baby, but not for her. she could barely stand to hold him. she turned away and cried into her pillow until she passed out.

there was no magic moment when she finally held her son for the first time. he cried the whole time and shook his pudgy little fists and was mostly bright candy red with the force of her yelling. he kicked her in the face, too, and of course it wasn't his fault but her first words to her newborn baby son were watch it, you little shit and it was so absurd that it knocked the terror right out of her.

some fuckin' mother she was, cussin out her baby. she rested him against her chest and bit her knuckle hard to keep her giggles in, and didn't come close to managing and her poor baby bounced a little as her chest shook. strangely, it seemed to rock him. he stopped crying.

I Am Stopping Here Because I Am Going To Write This Actually Gimme A Couple Hours

update: it’s here

#turns out i have. #a lot to say. #about naomi solace #i will add more later #longpost #ask

[diosapate]

sorry this became an essay but on the topic of john as misogynist, i know there are obviously more blatant examples in htn and ntn (and admittedly i'm only halfway through htn) but at least to me, i felt the misogyny was there even in gtn with the way he describes his relationship with / treatment of cytherea during the epilogue?

it's a different form of misogyny than the open disdain and degradation leveraged at mercy, but to me “She was the very best of all of us. The most loyal, the most humane, the most resilient. The one with the most capacity for kindness. I made her live ten thousand years in pain, because I was selfish and she let me" reads as a classic example of female objectification in the direction of the mother / martyr figure.

cytherea is defined here by her goodness and how she benevolently and selflessly served others. even though john fully names and takes blame for the pain he forced her to endure, he also places the blame on her for letting him do it. he denies her boundaries, complexity, and autonomy except where it would absolve him of guilt (see also, the scene in htn where john insists the murders at canaan house only happened because boe corrupted her). i know ableism definitely factors in to this attitude and treatment, but i don't think her being a woman was a small part of it either.

never apologize for writing me asks i LIVE for this. but you are absolutely correct in that this also falls back on Cytherea; admittedly it has been a hot minute since i read GtN so i appreciate a fresher take on this!

but yeah you're hitting my personal nail right on the head. from the way the other lyctors talk about Cytherea it really does look like she was subject at least some of the boys' club that the Mithraeum seems to be—(once again, the women began outnumbered and ended outnumbered; i'd love to know more about Cassiopeia and what her dynamic with the rest of the group is, although we get a glimpse from how John talks about her when he admits that she called his shit out for being "appallingly vindictive." would love to know how this translated over after her resurrection? hoping and praying we get more about her in AtN.) though it is, as you say, different from what is leveled at Mercy, and we know these dynamics can absolutely manifest in different ways.

where Mercy is shrill and "unlovable," Cyth is "gorgeous" and she "loved them all" which... isn't exactly degrading on its face but subsequent "poor little Cyth" by Augustine is definitely condescending!! (as much as it is endearing, in a way. they contain multitudes.) but i think most blatantly this behavior comes from John almost... victim blaming her? we can talk in circles for hours and hours about whether or not he could actually cure her cancer but it still stands that whatever he was enabling in her, she was (heavy quotation marks) "letting him do it."

John's insistence that Cyth was corrupted and denying her agency in genuinely hating him is really where i started to doubt that he just fundamentally doesn't misunderstand everyone he considers a close confidant. we already know he's completely fumbled Mercy & Augustine and that's how he ended up the object of two nefarious threesomes and also, like, exploded, but he's misunderstanding that everyone wants him dead because they want him dead. his actions are all the fault of other people and he cannot fathom not being adored, needed, and liked.

#thank you for sending this to me it is very juicy <3 #anonymous #answered #cytherea the first #john gaius #the locked tomb #tlt meta #aust.txt

[mono-dot-jpeg]

[12:32am]

a/n; just a cute platonic fic before i wonder for another hour if i decide to write something else or not. im reading through the u20 v bllk arc (i think im like halfway through) im like, i could write some good shit with this rq. someone probably wrote something like already potentially but it's rotting my brain rn so. this is totally ooc for rin probably im so sorry

also small bachira mom cameo slay

[platonic] [younger sibling! reader]

your brothers.. are cool.

rin and sae, your big older brothers who loved playing soccer. you watched them play everyday and they always looked like superheroes in your young eyes.

you grow up alongside them, just a year or two younger as you try to find what you want to do. do you want to win with them? do you want to live a peaceful life?

what do you want to do?

you don't know. you're lost without the guidance you wanted. you've been watching your brothers all this time that you lost track of yourself.

you come to realize that what rin talks about.. rings true for you as well.

that sae is just so far away from you both. but you feel far from rin too.

when did that happen?

you can only watch as your brothers fight in a colosseum called soccer where everyone in the audience is thirsty for a fight. where the new recruits meet the pro gladiators and then the pros crush them under their experienced swords and chains.

but this was different. you could feel it in the intense air. you were not even close in terms of seating to see your brothers. even with the seat you were offered from a really nice lady, you could barely see them. but you know that chilling air anywhere.

it felt like you were back in that school field with your brothers again. when he came back home from spain.

everything cracked.

"get lost rin. you're not necessary in my life anymore."

you watched as your brothers broke everything you believed in. how you three would stay together, how you would be there to cheer them on every match you could, how you would happy with them by your side.

your parents weren't even here to see the destruction they caused. the absolute pain they unintentionally inflicted on the three itoshi siblings. you came here on a whim, you wish you could say.

if you were really being honest, you really missed them. sae was always busy, and rin was in blue lock the whole time. so that left you alone.

"are you here with your family, dear? where are they?" that nice woman from before sits beside you, worried that you're all alone in this stadium.

"n-no. i'm alone." you're flustered by the sudden attention from her. "i'm here to.." you paused for a moment, "..to support my brothers."

"oh! that's so sweet! i'm supporting my own son! your brothers must be really good as well."

when was the last time you felt warm like this?

from just a simple talk with a lovely mother has you boiling with pain and longing.

why couldn't you feel this warmth with your family?

"yeah." you nodded curtly.

when the timer ticks down, you watch with dull eyes as rin and sae fight on the field again. you almost thought they would get cards for how aggressive this was. and before you know it.

blue lock wins.

and you don't know how to feel.

you saw the monster that rin was, tearing every person apart against their strongest assets. and you saw the monster that sae was, constantly calculating his way to win optimally.

today was the day that rin finally beat him.

and today was the day soccer changed japan.

the two week rest was now given to the blue lock members, and you haven't seen much of rin. that still hurt.

but you did catch him one day.

"rin.." you encounter him on a late night, hearing a set of heavy footsteps before you went to bed. "rin." you don't address him as your brother anymore. you wonder when you started making that habit.

"what?"

"you did well." you don't know what to say when you finally manage to have a chance at a proper talk with at least one of your brothers. he scoffs at your weak voice but you continue, "i saw everything. i attended the match."

"then you should know that i didn't do enough."

"i don't think like you and sae, i don't know as much as you two do-"

"i'm still far away from him now." you stay silent as he trembles with frustration and anger. "i'm gonna beat him and that stupid isagi.. "

your mouth is dry with confusion. you can't find it in you to talk to him like you once did as a kid. but you manage, "does this mean i'm gonna be alone again?"

it's his turn to go silent. his back faces you while he stares at his bedroom door.

"how long am i gonna be alone again?" you ask.

"until i beat our good for nothing shitty brother and that idiot isagi."

".. okay." you reach to open your bedroom door, "when you see sae again, tell him i said hi. i miss seeing you and sae." you confess.

"i don't understand how you miss him."

"the same way i miss you." you open your door, looking out at your bland bedroom. not a single trophy seen, not a single sign of any sports prowess, nothing that defined you. "you're both too far away from me. and i can't catch up." you sigh. "i'm just the talentless third kid after all."

"with that attitude, you deserve it." he opens his bedroom door and it's the complete opposite of yours. littered with awards and trophies and a single photo frame of the last time you've seen rin and sae happy.

"i know."

#blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #bllk rin itoshi #bllk rin x reader #sae itoshi #bllk sae itoshi #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk sae x reader #blue lock sae itoshi #blue lock rin itoshi

[kimbap-r0ll]

What if reader flinches whenever the twist boys argues/moves suddenly/makes a movement towards them because their ex was very toxic and abusive. How'd they react? Sorry if this makes oyu uncomfortable, feel free to ignore this request if you want. Just want some comfort headcanons with the twist characters because I had a very crappy break up with a recent abusive boyfriend of mine...Also, I love your work!!

Hi! Sorry I'm getting to this so late ;-; I'm glad you like my writing! I hope you're doing better too, and for anyone who is going through a toxic relationship or had experience with it I hope you are/will be in a better place now. I'll put this under the cut in case this is sensitive to anyone, but I'll choose the characters as Floyd, Riddle, Sebek, and Deuce.

tw: implications of an abusive relationship

Floyd, Riddle, Sebek, Deuce with an s/o who experienced an abusive relationship

Floyd

At first he didn't think much about his aggressive even dangerous behavior around people. He thought it was funny to see people look scared when he threatened to squeeze them and things like that. Even with his behavior, you two somehow started dating (perhaps it was your love of basketball or maybe similar interests in the sea).

He once punched the wall more or less because he was annoyed at someone (it was not you at all) and was muttering to himself about the said person. However, when he looked up to see you (who was there studying with him in his room), you were frozen in place and just staring at him.

This caused a different emotion from him to rise up: fear. It was the fear that he scared you, caused you to see someone that hurt you for so long and so much. His usual grin or threatening aura disappeared immediately and he carefully approached you. However, you backed away, flinching when he tried to reach out his hand to you

Floyd and you end up having a long talk that day about your past relationship. If anything, Floyd was ready to find whoever your ex was and beat the shit out of him. However, what you needed from Floyd the most was comfort, which he did by giving you what felt like the softest hug you had ever received in your life. He didn't have the words to comfort you as he was not experienced in softness, but he listened to everything you had to say, told himself what he needs to do to help you heal.

Floyd is extremely attentive, even for someone that may seem so careless. He never again acts violently in front of you, rather opting to give you surprise (gentle) hugs and joking around with you. Seeing you laugh and smile always made his heart flutter. However, seeing you smile after hearing your past makes him want to protect you more. You're in safe arms, he tells himself that when your with him. He'll make sure of that

Riddle

For someone who grew up in a strict, painful childhood, Riddle thought he would understand how to not make people cry. However, the habits he learned from his mother seemed to replicate in his actions as a dorm leader. You and Riddle seemed like an unlikely match with how kind you were, but somehow you two quickly became friends and started dating

Riddle never raised his voice at you, he was the complete opposite of the way he acted to his peers. However, Riddle one day raised his voice at you when you came back to the dorms late. He yelled at how worried he was as it was storming outside, that you could get hurt and how you had to fix that habit. The next thing he knew, he was looking at you holding yourself away from him, almost like you were scared

It was as though he was seeing a reflection of himself from his childhood, one that was frightened but unable to move. HIs heart felt sudden pain, especially when he tried to talk to you but you turned your face away from him. Riddle softly said an apology, swearing he would never do that again and that he would listen to you if you wanted to talk about it

When Riddle learns about your abusive past relationship, he can't help but wish to slap himself back when he yelled at you. He wished he had known, perhaps then he could have worked harder to make you feel safe with him and never worry about being pulled into something so traumatic again. Riddle tells you he's grateful you let him know about your past and that he would do everything he can to help you and protect you. For the first time, you see your uptight boyfriend loosen up, hugging you gently and placing a kiss on your head

He will speak softly to you as he usually did (Ace and Deuce may ask you how you accomplished this) and will always be there when you need comfort. He has warm tea when you call him over because you just need someone to talk to, and he's happy you trust him. He knows it can be hard to open up to people after such a horrible experience, but if anything, Riddle will make sure the two of you walk together and that you are safe with him

Sebek

As uptight as he is, he was never one to throw hands (though the threats of doing so are much more common). He prefered being classy, almost professional in school. Perhaps that was how he met you, either through opposites attract or through similar interests. Either way, he quickly fell in love and the next thing you knew it the two of you were dating (and Lilia thought it was the cutest thing ever)

Though it seemed like you two were very close, there was one thing that always stuck to the back of your mind: his voice. It was handsome when he spoke to you gently, but there were times when it would scare you. One day, the two of you had a heated argument and he yelled your name, perhaps in a vain attempt to get his point across. However, this resulted in you freezing up, feeling tears well up in your eyes and just holding your breath, perhaps waiting for something to hit you

Sebek saw this, and he immediately knew what he did wrong. He knew his impulses were horrible, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be affected by it. All the fiery anger diminished, his voice was almost a whisper when he said 'sorry' and asked if you were alright, saying he was in the wrong for raising his voice like that.

Sebek will give you time to calm down and talk to him about what happened. He has a feeling it was something traumatic, but what he hears makes his heart break. How could someone hurt you like that? Who could do such a thing to someone so kind, so amazing, that you had to live with that fear in the back of your mind? Sebek will tell you he never wants you to be afraid of him and that he's grateful you told him about your abusive ex. If anything, it will be a promise for life that he will protect you rather than harm you

Sebek isn't the best at comfort, but he can be surprisingly gentle when he wants to be. Quiet dates around the forest or reading in the Diasomnia lounge is common with the two of you. He will try his best not to raise his voice, and he can be overprotective of you. If he ever runs into your ex, he may have the urge to beat him up. However, you come first to him, he will make sure you are safe.

Deuce

He's never had the best reputation, he knows. That's why when he went to NRC he decided to completely change his ways and become an honor student. What he didn't expect was for him to fall in love with you and ask you out (in what you could say was the cheesiest way possible). You two went on dates right away, often causing Ace to complain about being a third wheel (though he thought you two were super cute together)

You knew about Deuce's past as a delinquent because he told you about it. However you never really thought about seeing it happen until one day when he ran across some rowdy people at the seashore you two were hanging out at. The men not only catcalled you but tried to grab you, causing you to flinch. Deuce didn't think before throwing a punch at them, telling them in the most aggressive way ever to stay away, and eventually scaring them away enough for them to run. When he turned to you, he didn't see you smiling, rather you were burying your face in your arms, crouched down and trying to hide your tears

Deuce gently crouches down too, telling you it's alright and that the guys are gone. However you ask him about the violent reaction, and he realizes something's wrong. You were scared of him too. Whispering your name, he slowly pulls you into a hug and lets you cry, whispering you'll be alright and that he's sorry for scaring you like that. If you want to talk about it at a later time, he'll wait and listen when you do

If anything, Deuce would want to punch the living shit out of your ex for causing so much pain. At the same time, Deuce will want to be even more protective of you, wanting you to feel safe with him and making happy memories together. He'll make sure of that by promising to not act out violently with you around and to protect you from harassers. He'll give you a warm smile and pinky promise it too

Deuce is a bit awkward and cheesy when it comes to comfort and hugs, but it's what makes you smile. He loves seeing you happy, it's like walking through a sunny day to him, and he'll do everything he can to protect your smile. He will listen to you if you need to talk to him, and sometimes the two of you go on a magical wheel ride (as that is a way he de-stresses). If anything, he will be protective of you, but super comforting at the same time

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #anon ask #twst scenarios #twst headcanons #twst x reader #tw #twst floyd #twst floyd x reader #twst riddle #twst riddle x reader #twst sebek #twst sebek x reader #twst deuce #twst deuce x reader

[witchmoon]

by our red string of fate.

Part 1

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem! Reader 

Summary: Aemond returns to King’s Landing for Aegon’s name day celebration during the midst of war. Immediately he regrets his decision to join the festivities, threatening an existential crisis, but then a mysterious beauty catches his attention - intriguing his jaded heart. It’s an unlikely place and the most inconvenient of times, but somehow he's renewed by the prospect that he could finally have a love he’s never known. 

Word Count: 4.6k 

Author’s Note: Third person perspective, reader/she (Y/N) is from an unspecified house with limited knowledge of the Targaryens. Some deviation of timelines and of HOTD canon/ details. Multi-part wip / slow burn, angst, eventual NSFW (lots!), language, soft feels.

I just want to write about Aemond falling in love, so the story is hyper-focused on the two mains-only without a lot of scene setting and background regarding the dance. Hope you stick around and enjoy! Comments/asks welcomed. LMK if you want to be tagged.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

don’t stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. though i know it’s blinding, there’s a way out. say out loud, we will not give up on love now.

Sometimes Aemond wonders why he still shows up for shit like this, especially when the attendance is so insufferable. Not that he doesn’t occasionally enjoy hearing his name mentioned in mixed tones of reverence and fear when he returns home.

Admittedly, he does find the soft whispers amongst the crowd of highborn families that his mother insists on periodically inviting to court dryly amusing, but only just.  

The attention can also prove a nice stroke to his ego every once in awhile, but it isn’t important to him the way it might have been before the war started. The pointed compliments and overt side-glances his way seem particularly insincere, holding no significance, as every person in the room fails to override his growing boredom.

Heavens save me.

Aemond begins to seethe at the fuckery of it all, and the night continues to progress with no clear end in sight. Time passes and with every moment that it does, his interest in remaining present depletes.

It’s unsurprising in consideration of how the conversations stay surface-level, lacking quality as the topics float weightless and repeating, forever removed from reality. Even with so many moon turns passed, everything still seems to remain relatively ordinary. No- dull as shit, he internally counters. Its personally stifling within the confines of the Red Keep.

He hates it here. The lack of evolution disappoints Aemond, even despite his expectation already residing at an all-time low. But what could be expected? Certainly nothing more from the self-indulgent snobs so far up their own asses as they regale in false self-importance, and definitely not when they maintain this guise for their foolish king’s name day celebration. What a farce.

His train of thought compels him to consider the raised dais where his idiot brother currently sits, already several cups deep into his spirits. Aemond can’t help but roll his eye, a habit he’s no longer keen to conceal. He’s grown tired of putting on fronts, especially for his family, wearing his emotions more easily on his sleeve so to speak.

Disdain and bitterness reignite at the sight of Aegon, selfish prick that he is, weaving back into Aemond’s marrow as he reflects on the many sacrifices he continues to make in the name of honor, loyalty and duty. And for fucking what?

i don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though i may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful…

The wine is weak, the food is tasteless and the music - abhorrent. He swears he’s going to gut the damn jester that keeps circling the main floor if he sees him again, envisioning the crimson pool that would undoubtedly ruin his newly polished boots in his mind’s eye, were he to act on the impulse.

It wouldn’t be worth it and Mother would be none too pleased…

Convincing himself of this, it’s actually not lost on him that he’s spent his entire life actually living within and throughout this ever-growing debacle. So many nights just like this, and the irony of such staggering a truth becomes too fucking rich. He blames his father most of all for this, but there are other factors too, ideas less congruent, but convincing all the same- he’s been cursed since birth.

His aversion to remain in this hall, in the entirety of this damnable Keep, only builds. The mood of Aemond is a transformative black and he’s past annoyance when more people fill the space, to the point it feels like everything probably should implode on itself. And he can’t say he wouldn’t welcome this, even if it meant his own demise, because at this point who fucking cares?

but when i move into the world, it feels like a moral fall- like seeking love in a whorehouse.

Alas, it does not. But the cynicism within him just keeps expanding. He can only blame himself. Just lay in it then, and try to be civilized.

Truth be told, the appeal for him to do anything these days that didn’t include partaking in the plotting for destruction and so many endless deaths during war meetings, or patrolling for visible threats from the sky on Vhagar had been strong. He’s convinced it must have been in a moment of weakness, during one of his deep bouts of loneliness, that the invitation bearing raven had conveniently arrived to him.

Aemond can’t justify any other reason than this, for he’d made haste to King’s Landing without any true forethought upon receipt of his mother’s handwritten request. Why had he been so easily swayed? Was it because life of late felt reduced to boring days, an unknown future, an irregular sleep, repeat? Yes, likely. But these were weaknesses better kept under wraps.

He smirks at such an unmerciful fate, but mostly to himself when he turns again to the main table, witnessing in real time as his only living parent bestows Aegon with a small surreptitious slap at something mouthy he’s just said towards her. In all these years, nothing ever changes.

Their grandsire holds Aegon in a death glare full of contempt by her side, utterly disapproving as well, which is something Aemond finds satiric. After all, wasn’t this what The Hand had always wanted for The Greens? Irreverent power and glory, Aegon upon the throne…such folly.

i can hardly breathe, and now you're right above me and your shadow suffocates.

The Keep had momentarily seemed a welcoming concept, but the present is too sobering a contradiction, impossible to ignore now. Sadly, the notion that he’d feel differently for this homecoming was once more proving false.

He can’t deflect responsibility, knowing his decision in actuality has been swayed by the growing weariness of violence - how tired he is of constantly being on the defense; forever at odds with his heart, his soul. It all feels heavy, a burdensome weight that will not hold much longer. What is my purpose? Although he will never admit this to anyone, he’s begun to lose sight of what he’s even fighting for anymore.

He needs something else to focus on for a while. A spark of interest would be nice, anything might do, as long as it could keep him from lashing out in anger - mostly at himself. Or worse, he could go spiraling downwards, back into the deep abyss of his emotions for a long-term residence. Just wither away into nothingness, and he has half a mind to let it happen. Fuck it all.

The actuality of all this flits across his mind, leaving the room suddenly muted to his ears. He shuts out the conversation he’s been involved in for an undisputed amount of time. Interestingly, the group surrounding him is littered with several lords and ladies that used to scoff and shirk at him a mere handful of solar cycles previously.

Hypocrites, cowards, utter cunts - the lot of them.

It doesn’t really matter to him though, these fools from a bitter and harrowing past, nor their opinions. Instead he inwardly returns to a more pressing matter up for his contemplation - the emptiness he’s been feeling for awhile, how internalized and damaging it still is.

He thinks of the way it all stacks up against him, how it’s reduced him to a man underwhelmed, unfulfilled… and the greatest issue of all, unloved. This is something Aemond is forever conscious of, and it’s like he’s suddenly experiencing the same oppressive state he’d lived in for so much of his youth, a time in which he was not in control whatsoever.

Once upon a time, he had been soft - a dreamer with a lot of heart to give. Unfortunately, by no fault of his own, his sensitive nature had proven detrimental, swiftly making him the target of many immature, albeit cruel intentions. Even despite being a Targaryen son, he’d constantly found himself the brunt of jests amongst his eldest brother and younger kin alike.

It had been a callous awakening, one that both fed his deep-seated feelings of inadequacy and expanded his burgeoning anger, turning him more spiteful with age.

What the fuck?

He wonders why these memories are suddenly seeking their re-emergence, particularly when it feels like he’s already spent a lifetime making painstaking efforts to finally move beyond such devastating haunts.

But it never really leaves him.

In defiance of persistence, self preservation and all he’s mastered, everything he’s proven of himself through accomplishment and challenge, some things still refuse to detach themselves from him. They are core memories that shall remain forever tied to the very matter of which he’s made, and because of this, he’s tried to make peace with their aggravation.

Even still, it’s a nuisance for him when he considers his own personal defects, how ingrained they seem, like a sustained poison in his blood. Inescapable fallacies that others have convinced him of, no matter his renowned skills as a swordsman, his impressive mount on the biggest dragon in the world, all his knowledge - the rarity of an education that is vast, uncommon… the notoriety of his crimes.

Am I not more than this?

He’s flawed - yes, as painfully aware of this truth as he is of his demons, so many well-acquainted old foes that have been around his entire life, lurking endlessly. They’re more repressed than before, but Aemond doesn’t think they���ll ever truly leave him, and he’s inclined to accept this damnation too.

But try as he might to tamper it, he feels primarily defined by his navigation and survival through neglect and bullying, at being physically maimed and sexually taken advantage of at a young age, none the wiser at the time. It’s all very tragic, even still, and yet he’s tired of being married to the victimization of it all.

He often wonders what’s so terribly wrong with him that every day, it feels like Westeros is trying to strangle him. As if she’s been trying to do this for his entire life - kill him slowly. And this plausibility doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility as he sardonically considers his existence, how shit it’s been, that the bitch might actually be succeeding in the endeavor.

It's an ever-present thorn in his side, and it feels deeper tonight, the stab somehow greater. He feels like disappearing or giving up, and the decision to give in only persists in the absence of an anchor - one he’s been in dire need of for some time.

If only there was a new strength from which he could draw, something powerful that he might feel inclined to cling to. His mind reels at what could possibly keep him grounded, give his life meaning, keep him sane enough to remain in this living hell.

But hope is a foreign concept, a dangerous entertainment that Aemond doesn’t make a practice of, and happiness is even more evasive. For him, there’s no miracle waiting in the wings for the perfect moment to unveil itself and show him kindness. There’s no fortress from which to seek refuge within, no bastion or brave defender to come to his aid, no salve to erase all the hurt in his torn heart. It’s a lost cause.

He knows that coming here tonight has been a grave mistake.

no dawn, no day, i’m always in this twilight.

He wants to move, but the will to do so momentarily abandons him, leaving him to remain trapped within himself. His singular vision loses focus as his stare shifts to the intricate flooring before him, a distracting pattern of which he really isn’t seeing. It’s not promising, but he’s somehow hoping the ground might miraculously deign mercy upon him by opening up and just swallowing him fucking whole.

He holds his breath, willing this occurrence, but of course it's all for naught. Then, as if from the end of a dark tunnel, he hears the familiarity of his name, spoken and echoing, drawing him back to the present. He begins to anticipate the confused stares from the group he’s been standing with, though no genuine conversing has taken place thus far.

When his mobility reinstates of its own accord, he shifts his weight to buy some time before looking up to consider the lord who’s asked him... something. He knows not what, nor does he care, but upon Aemond’s vision refocusing, he’s not seeing them or anyone - only her.

in this light, i swear you’re mine.

It's a mysterious occurrence, the way time works - how the stars seem to have finally conspired to align with opportunity and chance. And for the first time tonight, perhaps ever, he finds himself captivated.

The crowd has split, forming a clear path from where he’s standing to the opposite end of the room. He swears his traveling gaze has been moved by some greater force, something he cannot name, beckoning him. It must be true, he’s convinced as the connection he’s feeling with the nameless woman increases.

The air becomes charged with renewed energy, a unique heat that seems untainted by pretense. And it’s heat that flourishes within him now - inexplicable, drugging when he realizes all at once that she’s staring back at him. Only him.

There’s a curiosity to their exchange, the way it goes on in silence, in secret. It’s everything but fleeting, what they’re sharing from afar. And although it's from a great distance, he knows this could be something of substance, worth pursuing. Something unnamed within him spurs this idea, urging him into action to seize this unexpected opportunity, but then she looks away and he’s completely startled.

Suddenly, Aemond cannot breathe. She is fucking beautiful. From his remote observation, this is clear, but he’s also sensing something else about her. Aside from the obvious, that she’s literally the most stunning person in the room, that he has probably ever seen, her energy is not supporting this fact.

It perplexes him.

Amid the many exquisite objects within this opulent hall, she outshines them all, easily taking center stage. But what’s drawing Aemond the most, putting him on the highest of alerts, is the unease he senses emulating from her. She looks about ready to dart from the stale festivities, as if she’s simply gathering her nerve while mapping out her next move in order to see this realized.

Take me with you.

Actually, she looks exactly the way he feels, and intuitively he knows that she is someone he needs to have in his life. He’s still staring when she unexpectedly looks at him again, and with this second glance - a feeling of pure elation begins to take root within him. The air rushes to enter his lungs once more.

Suddenly he feels alive again, awakened from the dead at long last.

i looked at him with unexplainable recognition, i stared at him with a burning throat and teary eyes.

It’s time to panic.

Truth be told, she hadn’t meant to stare for as long as she had, and then again. It's definitely not something she’s prone to do - fixate on strangers, especially considering how uncomfortable it’s always made her when on the receiving end of such attentions.

But in her defense, dear cousin had recently disappeared, leaving her to her own devices without any formal introductions. Thus, voiding any and all potential attempts at social interactions on her own, should she have chosen to pursue them.

She had not, and it wasn’t a great loss for her either, as the night so far had proven rather stale - falling flat despite its nauseating frivolity. And yet, as a first-time visitor to the capital with limited knowledge of court customs, being put out like this felt like a blow, like abandonment.

It did not bode well with her to feel less than, misplaced, unwelcome. And these were all issues she’d been struggling with since arriving, trying desperately to maintain a sense of calm confidence that she did not actually feel an iota of.

In honesty, she could have anticipated this if only she’d removed the figurative rose colored lenses from which she’d been trying to experience tonight through.

It wasn’t fated to be ideal though, as she had immediately sensed something malignant from the moment she’d walked through the entry door earlier. Bittersweet, but unsurprisingly, it left her longing for the solitude of home with its rolling lands, the beauty evergreen.

She maintains vexation over recent decisions, once more finding herself in a situation that’s left her ill at ease - hellbent on forfeiting any and all of the night’s eventualities. If I could just get out of here. Yet, something holds her back.

Perhaps it’s the perceived lack of decorum in disappearing that stays her. Hardly - but the watchful eyes throughout the room do give her pause. Aware of the scornful judgement being passed about, in constant motion from one fiend to the next, she can’t say she’s trying to draw more attention.

She’s not senseless either, having been told numerous times of the weight this invite held - one of generosity and privilege and opportunity. In theory, it had seemed plausible, so she hadn’t dismissed the importance of impression that kept being pressed upon her every day leading up to now.

And now, there’s contradiction at every turn - the night proving to be little more than a pitiful show of extravagance. A colossal inconvenience to celebrate and placate an unworthy man-child.

As if I really give a shit about this Aegon twat.

He apparently IS the king, but she really fails to comprehend this as fact. From her personal observation, he appears more juvenile than ruler, all tired eyes and messy hair. He’s wearing a permanent scowl of disinterest too, as he begins making his rounds amongst his guests. It’s plain to see he’s intoxicated, struggling at times to stay upright on his two feet.

Even the heavy crown atop his head fails to stay centered, impossible to maintain its position with the continuous sway of its wearer. Such a mess.

Though she finds herself wondering why she left home for this, she can’t deny the inherent need within her to be pushed - really move out of established comforts for the sake of growth. Admittedly, life had become dull enough for her to consider travel, even despite perceived dark times in the more well-known parts of the world.

The risk had been taken, and tonight was accomplishing her misguided notion to experience something new, something she’d never had before. It was definitely not a place of comfort either, but neither was it engaging as she had hoped it might be.

Perhaps a little intrigue would do some good in this social wasteland, but there is nothing, nobody.

While she wasn’t a stranger to taking inherent leaps of faith, having a rather optimistic outlook most days, nothing was presently inspiring the spark within her. Likewise, nothing was pulling her to put some faith into this night, relinquish any benefits of doubt. There was nothing compelling, nobody convincing her that this particular setting was anything other than cold and callous.

More than that though, it felt undeniably toxic, laced with the unmistaken undercurrent of condescension. And for the first time in her life she yearns to be invisible.

These are not my people and I don’t belong here.

The realization of this hits hard, at a very inopportune moment, and it's causing her cool facade to deplete significantly. It feels like she’s breaking down, on the brink of a total collapse. She could crumble and it would be so easy, but still, she hangs on.

She sips her wine and it’s disgusting, aware that any further indulgence in it won’t be worth tomorrow’s ache in the head. However, the heavy cup remains a functional prop to keep her semi-occupied with intended movement. She thinks at the very least, it's helping her blend in more with the rest of this cunty crowd, appearing like less of an outsider, less...delicate.

The thought of taking another walk around the hall seems a viable option - an attempt to kill more of this rotten evening. She finds more appeal in the notion, rather than standing still and pretending she’s agreeable with her surroundings.

Everything continues to fall away, and it’s getting harder to crawl out of her melancholic mood. Though, on a very specific level of self-awareness, she knows she’s being too critical of the situation and too hard on herself. It’s a deep flaw for her, to be constantly plagued by one’s own high expectations, equipped with the unfortunate knack of also being dramatic.

It’s a curse in many ways - limiting, exhausting, upsetting. She hates that she feels so much, so deeply. She hates the way she always ends up let down in the end. She hates the way she wants more from life, yet always comes up short.

What did you actually expect… to fall in love with a prince?

The thought is enough to get her angsty, exasperated that she could still have the capacity to be this naive, to think that such wonders might exist. Fairytales, her personal kingdom of dreams recognized, come to life. She could romanticize the idea for the rest of her days, but they’re simply that, dreams. And only dreams they will remain. Intangible.

When she considers this, and she’s done so often throughout her life, it always leaves her reeling with the harshest of realities in the end. She wonders why she puts herself through it, time and again - dreaming up a life and a love that will never belong to her.

The outcome will never change, you’re destined to be alone.

She’s too much in her head at this point and it weights her, but she’s done pretending, over the tolerance. She realizes she has to get out of here, that it doesn’t even matter where to. Just away. And suddenly there’s no more argument left within her of what she should do by staying. There’s no room left for lingering guilt either.

It’s simply time to go.

Scanning the space, she finds her exit route in record time. But beyond these four walls, she has no idea where she’s going. It doesn’t matter, I don’t care.

Although it momentarily deters her from taking action, she decides to chance one more look across the room in an attempt to locate her kin. At the very least, it would be wise to give notice of her leave for the evening, but the effort is fruitless and she’s quick to abandon the search.

That's when her eyes land on him.

are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?

Who is he?

She has no idea, though she could draw some conclusions and seven hells, he is stunning! There’s an enigma about him, a danger and acuteness to his character that exudes a well-steeped confidence. She can tell all this just by the way he holds himself, at least that’s the impression she’s receiving by his body language, the semi-defensive stance.

He intrigues her, radiant yet darkly masculine as well, and he physically stands out with his impressive height and athletic build - everything she’s attracted to. He looks important, but displaced. It’s also clear he’s disinterested with those around him, perhaps jaded by the same shortcomings in his life as she is with hers. She wonders, thinking it could be true.

The energy from him draws her the same way his appearance does, all black leather and belts, a dagger, a donned eye-patch, gorgeous long hair that is pale, glorious. Even in the dim light, it shines as if illuminated - a most mysterious beacon, working to draw out her withering heart with a renewed vibrant curiosity.

Fuck, that is lovely. She thought she was leaving, but now her feet feel heavy and she can’t look away.

A Targaryen, obviously. But who the fuck is he, which dragonlord is this? She MUST know.

He’s striking, it's undeniable, even despite looking forlorn in this current setting. Or maybe it’s just a blasé air that he keeps. It could be a front. Again, she wonders. Either way, she picks this up right away, deliberating how it isn’t obvious to the imbeciles he’s standing amongst, of how very little he cares.

Its a strange concept, like tragic art, as she spectates the scene. It's like he’s invisible, such as she, or he wants to be, such as she. He’s completely withdrawn from the conversation… and he is beautiful.

Unbeknownst to him, he’s also outwardly manifesting everything she’s been internalizing - its just something she feels, senses. The silent energy emanating from him becomes a fucking madness, moving unseen across the space, weaving through faceless bodies. And suddenly it’s crashing into her with subtle violence, summoning her in a manner that’s arcane, unintentional.

It transmits nonetheless, in a demand to feel something, anything.

She thinks she might, knowing he would be the reason, and she casts a silent wish then: look at me, escape with me. She expects nothing. And yet, it seems he has somehow received her unspoken plea with perfect aim, because almost immediately he looks up, finding her without pause, effortlessly.

It takes her breath, taken aback by the depth of his stare, even from afar. But it’s not merely the meeting of their eyes that's causing her panic to grow now.

It's the way the most beautiful man she’s ever seen maintains his stare, subtly tilting his head in acknowledgement of her existence. It’s the way he’s just excused himself from the small group he’s been standing with as she watches him finally break loose from them.

It’s the way he's walking directly towards her now with unmistaken interest.

the sadness you carry, it hangs like a ghost.

Aemond’s need to go to her is instantaneous, his mind quickly made up, surrendering to her unspoken beckoning. What he’s feeling can’t be described, but it puts him in motion with assured steps towards her, intent to maintain their connection.

The last thing he wants now is a deterrent, some dumb bastard interrupting his advancement with meaningless words and insincere praise. He can’t be fucked, especially since the exuberance of others often exhausts and bores him.

Besides, he’s not that infamous and he thinks his appearance should emit a genuine aloofness, at least enough to mark him as unapproachable.

In this moment, he hopes for it to be true.

As he continues, his boots on the stone floor leave an echoing sound - the faintest of cadences to his ears. Even the soft music that’s been playing, sounds he’d previously drowned out, return to fill his senses. He’s aware of how the room comes alive once more and how his attention hones into the finer details - the beautiful things that matter enough to hold some of his appreciation. But nothing is shining as bright, as gorgeous as her.

i’ll just tear it down, and i’ll wear it like a ribbon - give it.

His perspective is altered, biased. He’s ever grateful for the reprieve in detaching from the aimless buzz of verbal interaction. He carries on as the swooning strings from instruments and all the paintings and flickering candles in the room act as a backdrop for the dream he’s finally found himself in.

There’s a grandeur to the moment, and it doesn’t even seem like he’s in the same place as before. It's a subtle shift with great impact and to Aemond, it’s like a slow awakening of his spirit. His heart feels lighter, his chest less constricted somehow. Breathing comes more easily as he realizes he’s no longer holding everything in.

For him, tonight finally makes sense - he sees with so much clarity and with it, an aspiration to unearth something extraordinary. I am here because she is here. And she’s his focus, it can’t be misinterpreted.

This is intense, he knows it is, because he can be intense - in looks, in demeanor, in speech. For example, the effect of his set jaw and determined eye are apparent just based on the way she looks away again, like she needs a moment for herself. Like maybe she’s alarmed by him and his imminent approach…

Regardless, he can tell she’s ready to go simply by her nervous shifting of weight from one foot to the next and the way her hand grips her wine cup. It’s so obvious, but he silently demands for her to stay put, at least until he can reach her, join her.

Don’t you dare move!

As he draws closer, he realizes he hasn’t actually formulated an introduction, though. He’s been fixated on priority one - getting to her, but now that he’s almost within her sphere, it's possible he’s going to come on too strong.

It really isn’t in his nature to be aggressive, at least not towards women. But there's a fine line between that and being resolute, and he can only hope she won’t confuse the two. It gets him stressed either way, just the anticipation. And its abrupt, how the air circulating now feels to have stopped altogether.

The urge for something clean in his lungs grows more intense. In fact, it's been too many lapsed hours since he last stepped outside, so he thinks maybe this is the angle he will use with her.  

He sees her look down at the drink in her hand, then back at him with a ghost of a smile, and then away again. All these nervous habits miraculously enchanting him, though he’s aware it’s all stemmed from a discomfort and he could sympathize. He does - this brave girl.

Aemond needs to get to her, knowing this setting has become too intolerable for them both. It leads him to mull through all the potential areas he could take her to - more private areas within the Keep. He’s trying hard not to envision her on his bed though, laid out before him, but it’s a challenge not to go there…

His thoughts come up short, interrupted and replaced by disbelief in an instant. And he can see the shock on her face too, witnessing the scene in horror the moment Aegon, of all people, drunkenly clashes into her with unabashed force.

It happens quickly, the unexpected contact of his body propelling the cup she’s been holding towards herself, effectively spilling its dark contents onto her bodice and sleeve. His fiend of a brother remains unsteady, loud and obnoxious as he begins to inappropriately grope her figure with slurred and insincere apologies.

But it gets worse when he sobers just enough to focus his vision, and fully consider the beauty of the woman he’s currently offending - the one that he still holds fast within his clutches. He voices his immediate thoughts, loud enough to be heard by many.

“Heavens, what a pretty present you are! I think I shall wait to unwrap you in my chambers.”

Aemond sees fire, he walks faster.

i can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; i am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger.

The familiar sting of tears begin to surface in a rush, threatening to fall although she wills them not to. It would be so easy to cry now, and it’s something she tends to do when she’s at her limit. The frustration becomes unbearable, but she simply cannot allow this weakness to display.

Aside from the fact that everyone appears to be looking at her, the music has also stopped and the only sound filling her ears now is the seething laughter from the king. His prodding fingers are still at her waist, her lower back and his breath is hot on her ear, repulsing her just as much as his verbal filth has.

This little blond bitch, I could kill him.

She wants to scream, fueled by so much repressed anger, thinking she might act out soon if she doesn’t escape the predicament. Above all things, slapping the fool touching her is of the highest priority, but she also wants to cut out the eyes of every person currently gawking at her as if she were the problem.

She wants to combust into flames, she wants to cease to exist altogether.

Even her free hand has formed into a fist so tight that her knuckles ache, and although it's of little consequence to her, she can vaguely feel the shallow cuts her nails have begun to make into the delicate skin of her palm. Time halts and she’s burning from within, her vision clouding with rage as her arm begins to raise as if by its own accord.

She intends to lay one into Aegon’s jaw. At the very least, he deserves a slap, although the consequences will be dire. Even with this knowledge, she can’t seem to tamper the physical urge to do some harm to him. It’s the least he deserves.

How dare this fucker be so blatantly disrespectful.

Her mind is made up, he’s getting slapped and she’s determined to see this through. But suddenly her movement is blocked, stilled by a gentle pressure of long fingers wrapping securely around her forearm. A deep breath is drawn and she’s still trembling in her animosity, her embarrassment, when she turns to consider the disrupter.

To her relief and amazement, she’s met with a welcomed face, a beautiful one. It’s him, the only one she wants to see, to know.

The good Targaryen - finally, he is here.

And he is so close to her when he leans in, offering a verbal warning with a solemn tone for only her to hear.

“Don’t.”  

His touch is reassuring, sending bursts of warmth throughout her at the tenderness being exhibited. His expression however, betrays a significant degree of anger and it hardens his features further, in an impossible way. Oh gods!

She’s seeing a lot of sharp lines and hard angles, an immaculate bone structure and the most impressive scar that runs a great length down one side of his face. It hadn’t been noticeable from a distance, not really, but now it draws her. Truthfully, it’s devastating how devilishly handsome he is and how weak she’s begun to feel just being near him.

He almost doesn’t seem real, but the obvious irritation emulating from him is substantial. Even still, there's a compassion in his touch and it’s his touch alone that she feels upon her body now. It compels her to be soft again and then she is, loosening and moved by his thoughtfulness to come to her aid, offer her stability in both body and mind.

His actions ground her, and he’s respectful as he takes the emptied cup from her with his free hand, discreetly handing it to a passing servant without a word.

She’s aware of how she turns into him then, drawn to his body heat, the most natural attraction. And with Aegon now gone, a relief in itself, she feels safe - protected. The urge to throw her arms around him in gratitude is strong, but she abstains.

He continues looking at her, his face otherworldly, and he’s saying something that she cannot comprehend as her world goes quiet. She can’t capture a thought or formulate a word, feeling her mind draw a blank, abandon her while he looks on.

Her mouth turns dry and her clothes become too warm as she gets lost in the intensity of his eye, the riveting color of it. From afar she couldn’t decipher, but up close she can clearly see that it’s a glorious azure blue, rimmed by a darker hue - indicating something of further mystery, an enigma. It isn’t typical, and therefore stunning, moving her in an inexplicable way.

A soft moan escapes her lips, ever so telling of the effect he’s having, as his brow lifts with some amusement. He’s clearly heard the sound, providing some inclination to him of her desire and he can’t help but pull a small half-smirk, satisfied by this revelation. But he’s still waiting for a response, impatient once more, and he demonstrates this by reinstating his firm grip on her arm to give a slight squeeze.

She wonders if he’s always like this, communicative with gestures and touches of varying pressures. It takes her mind somewhere it shouldn’t - to a place that involves just them, their bodies and very little clothing.

Does she want to know? She isn’t certain, but he seems physically overbearing suddenly, as if he’d moved further into her unnoticed. And he might have accomplished this while she lost herself to a budding desire, envisioning what he might look like fully unclothed…what he might feel like against her, from within her.

Fuck!

His close proximity isn’t helping reel in her thoughts, as the sensual scent encapsulating him climbs to meet her senses. It's fresh, something divine, and she finds herself wanting to chase and consume. It brings a new type of fire to their shared space as she imagines her lips pressed to the exposed skin on his neck, breathing him in.

The visual finally releases her from her mind trap, and she refocuses to stare at his face, placing her hand blindly on his own without thought. She shakes her head apologetically, helplessly, needing him to repeat the question - it’s really all she can do.

He obliges her, knowing she can hear him, that she’s listening now.

“Come away with me.”

come home to my heart.

It really isn’t a question and she finds herself silently nodding in acquiesce to his demand, feeling the adrenaline begin to flourish. The only audible response from him is a deep “hmm” as they take their leave. It intrigues her, but not nearly as much as the way he walks in equal measures of grace and arrogance or how his silken hair begins to move illustrious over his back with each step taken.

To her, he is an exquisite creation, surely made from the gods and he walks as one amongst ineffectual men as he leads them through the mass of people. It’s a quickened pace that she matches, noticing the way he calls off a small group of approaching knights, the Kingsguard, with a flick of his wrist to still their advances.

Although they’re amid many watchful eyes, the music has begun again, reinstating many dancers back to the middle of the floor following the scene with the king. It offers some relief, but what she’s finding to be the greatest comfort is the contact he maintains on her elbow, at the small of her back while he guides her out of the hall.

The heat infiltrates from his hands, runs along her spine and she doesn’t mind the mild possession of his touch. It thrills, and her spirits continue lifting as something akin to hope seeks to re-enter her heart.

i promise you, i was here. i felt things that made death so large it was indistinguishable from air, and i went on destroying inside it like wind in a storm.

It’s a well kept secret that Aemond considers himself a lover, not a fighter (at least in theory), though he doubts anyone would believe this if he were ever to admit it aloud. In fact, he feels that he’s improved in reining in his more violent impulses when they arise, attempting to adopt a more critical stance on whether to act on said impulses or not.

He reflects on this now as he navigates through the Red Keep with familiarity, thinking perhaps this banal approach is prominently wrought from Lucerys’ death. He knows it is… but this is different.

Despite the beautiful woman with him, casting a curious glance his way, he’s silently fuming with a sudden need for vengeance. And the center just won’t hold, he can’t call this off now that he’s in action - moving, intentional.

As such, his steps are calculated, the direction mapped as they ascend a set of stairs together in record time. She follows willingly, half-dragged by his hand at a certain point, though she doesn’t complain. He’s grateful for it, and without a word, they turn down a dark corridor that takes them further through the never-ending maze of apartments and bedchambers.

His heart is pounding, the most violent of slams from within his rib cage, as his long legs carry him closer to his oldest nemesis.

you go on by finding a channel for your love…

Aegon’s behavior is always unacceptable, but tonight it’s inexcusable as well.

Tonight, it feels more personal.

In fairness, Aemond’s tolerance had already waned substantially throughout the course of the day. Though not uncommon, his brother had been acting an absolute wretch from the moment he’d risen and begun interacting - effectively wearing most everyone thin.

Still, recent events simply won’t release from his brain. His brother’s actions, specifically the ever-occurring heinous mistreatment of women, continues to spread like a plague. It’s bothersome, but whats worse is the fact that such behavior remains unchecked, tolerated, as everyone turns a blind eye time and again.

Aegon, the perpetrator that knows nothing of consequence, who could care less who he offends and hurts. Aegon, who never learns.

The loathing for his sibling is prominent more now than ever, the rage significant in power as it burns at the very core of Aemond. It threatens to spread like wildfire as he recalls the image of Aegon colliding into her, touching her, taunting her - the one whose hand he’s now holding. This exquisite darling that’s with me.

It leaves him seeing red once more, and he’s resolute to make right this gross wrongdoing, finding the catharsis absolute when at last, he does.

…and another for your rage.

There’s justification in the way Aemond storms Aegon’s bedchambers, startling the room’s occupants as he dismisses a handful of ladies already in various stages of undress.

There’s satisfaction when he knocks the wine from his brother’s hand, spilling it across the regal bedding before advancing to lay waste to every last spirit within sight, all crashing bottles and broken glass.

There's an absolution when his fist meets Aegon’s mocking face, disrupting his cavalier smile with brute force. The delivered blow drops his brother to the littered floor as so many shards seek to break the skin of his hands, his knees.

It’s an absolute agony for the king, but he continues in a deranged manner with uncontrolled manic laughter filling the luxurious space. In High Valyrian, Aemond speaks departing words of revulsion and fury and threats.

Then he’s back outside the room, the splintered door now unable to properly close as guards rush to Aegon’s aid with trepidation and no small degree of bewilderment at what’s just transpired between the siblings.

He grabs his awaiting companion’s hand then, his own showing the faint beginnings of a bruise as it takes form, darkening just beneath the surface. It’s inconsequential for Aemond, for he’s more surprised that she’s remained to wait for him despite whats just been witnessed firsthand.

He sincerely wonders how he hasn’t managed to scare her away with such a wrathful display. Yet, he’s finding a great relief in knowing he hasn’t managed to achieve this after all. In fact, he’s in a bit of awe that she’s remained. It means more to him than he could have imagined, and certainly more than she will ever know…

At present, his knuckles sting, but he doesn’t care. His heart is thunderous, but he doesn’t care.

An incredible amount of relief is washing over him at what’s just transpired through words and actions, honest emotion pent up for so long, finally released. It’s palpable, this foreign elation being felt as they retreat, backtracking so many of their steps. Even servants rush to either side of the halls so as not to remain in their wake, potentially interrupting their progress.

And he’s so certain of his menacing appearance now, just by their reactions, though he half-wishes his brother had put up a fight and tried to roughen him up. But it matters naught. At this point, his immediate intention is strictly to get himself and her to a place of privacy - as far as possible from Aegon’s blasted existence too.

Aemond huffs in spite of himself on reflection, feeling a bit bitchy over the circumstances, for this wasn’t the first impression he had wanted to make.

Too late now.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond targaryen

[thoraeth]

A/N: 850 words, gn!reader. You're the personal assistant of the weirdest punk band in the Grand Line and today you're having a breakdown. Unfortunately, Buggy has no intentions of leaving you alone.

[One Piece punk band AU/ modern AU]

Cut out for the job

The door slams closed. You kick your sneakers away, enjoying the silence of your hotel room.

You haven't been able to catch your breath all day: Mr. Trafalgar called at 6 am because Ace was held at the police station; third time this month. Then it was Barto's turn. He needed your opinion on a nice gift for his nana, but kept arguing that your ideas were stupid. Franky gave you a migraine, shouting left and right during the band's weekly meeting and Buggy…oh, Buggy. He was insufferable these days: snappy, needy, tense, constantly asking you to fetch him stuff, to take him places.

You’re starting to feel like you’re never enough, drowning in this chaotic routine.

You can almost hear your mother's voice in your head: “Are you really throwing your life away to follow a band of idiots?!” Well, in your defense, being a band’s personal assistant was supposed to be fun. But now? Here you are, tired, sad and underpaid, living in yet another horrible hotel room. Maybe you're not cut out for this job.

Your phone glows up, a text from Buggy. “It's 11 pm for fuck's sake!” you shout, throwing the buzzing device on the sofa.

Buggy has been doing it for weeks: every night he sends you tons of messages for the most trivial stuff. He’s lost his mascara, bought ten pairs of shoes, whines about his paycheck. A bratty, pushy attitude he’s never had before.

In fact, the two of you used to have the most interesting conversations and a special chemistry that made you feel some type of way more than once. Like that night, backstage. The glances, the gentle touching while you helped him get dressed…you can still feel the goosebumps on your skin.

You pick up your phone, puffing at the crowd of notifications.

[Hey, you still up? Listen, face paint is running out, I’m thinking cherry 3.2 this time but I’m not sure if 1 or 2 cans.

Heyyyy are you ignoring me?? 👺😭 You sleeping already?]

[Oi Bug, can we discuss this tomorrow? It's way past my working hours.]

[...ok.]

[Today's been rough, I really need to unwind 🥲]

[ Wanna hang out? A little fun will make you feel better.]

[ Thanks but I’m done with work, see you tomorrow!]

[seen 00:15 AM]

[Buggy? You ok?]

[seen 00:50 AM]

“Shit. He's upset now.” You whisper, your eyes and mouth wide open “What if he gets me fired?”

You feel low-key furious: you shouldn't be punished for setting boundaries. If he’s playing the cocky boss during the day, you can play that game too and clock out at night. Screw him.

The sudden sound of the doorbell makes you jump out of your skin. “Hey it's me.” A familiar voice comes from outside the door, muffled.

Stomping to the peephole, you see Buggy. He’s nervously thinkering with his blue hair, pacing back and forth in the duck hoodie you got him for his birthday.

“Are you serious?” You ask, opening up.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just five minutes and I'll be gone.”

Buggy's not wearing his piercings and face paint; he looks serious, a bit scared. His ice blue eyes stare at you in silence and all your anger seems to melt away as he sits on the sofa.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Am I fired…?”

“What? No!” He shrieks, outraged. “Just sit, please.”

The second you're next to him, Buggy focuses on his boots, hands twitching on his knees.

“I-I know I've been a bit of an asshole lately.” He stutters. “I drove you crazy asking tons of stuff and…”

“You’re being a pain in the ass. Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to spend more time with you but I messed up.” Buggy side-eyes you, his face red and flustered.

“I think I like you. A lot.”

Those words make your heart race so fast you can barely breathe.

He continues: “I tried to write to you, but every time… I couldn't say it the way I wanted.”

“Is that why you kept texting me for hours every night?!” you snap, breaking your silence.

Buggy jumps back in his seat “I didn't realize I was bothering you! I've always enjoyed our silly chats. But I'll stop, I got it now. We're just colleagues.”

You burst out laughing. Buggy leans towards you, shouting things you can't hear over the joy exploding in your chest.

He's about to get up, distraught, when you reach for his neck and pull him towards you, pressing your lips on his. Still a bit surprised, Buggy melts into your kiss, holding you so tight it almost hurts.

“For a second I thought I didn't want this job anymore.” You chuckle in between kisses.

“I’ll ask Trafalgar to give you a raise, then.”

“He's gonna fire us both when he knows about this.”

You dive your back into the sofa, pressed under Buggy’s weight. As he kisses and laughs into your neck, you remember why you decided to follow this band of idiots in the first place: there’s no other place in the world where you’ve felt more alive.

#nevermind the blorbos #one piece fanfiction #band au #buggy the clown #buggy fic #buggy fanfiction #buggy x you #buggy x reader #one piece buggy #barto club #bartolomeo one piece #ace one piece #trafalgar law #franky one piece

[mrs-snape5984]

“Did I save you? 'Cause I know you saved me too!”

“If you cried out for more, if you reached out for me, I would run into the storm, just to keep you here with me.” (“Song #3” by Stone Sour)

When I fell head over heels for Severus Snape, 21 years ago, a repeating pattern emerged in my life: He was always by my side, accompanied me through these years with all my ups and downs. But when I’m struggling with the most traumatic experiences, my mind is shutting down completely…leaving only space for Severus.

In these times, I’m clinging on Severus as if I’d be drowning without him….and this is probably exactly what would happen to me, if I hadn’t Severus as my safe haven in my heart and in my mind! It’s his resilience…his stoic and stubborn determination…his bravery, that keeps me focused on my own destiny…that keeps me determined to stay alive.

I must admit, that I’m struggling hardly with my current situation. Being captured in my weak self…only allowed to live a life in the darkness of my little room…makes me want to break out of this nightmare.

My life before ME/CFS wasn’t the easiest…it was a real “shit show” in some ways, but there were and are also things, that I never wanted to miss out. But it’s getting harder to keep these things vivid for me…everything is slowly fading away.

I miss my life as it was before this goddamn disease ME/CFS destroyed everything for me! I miss my job as a social worker…I miss being active with my three amazing children…I miss reading books and watching movies, whenever I wanted to do it (not only every few weeks or actually months, when I dare to risk falling into another crash for this little piece of joy)…I miss driving my car…I miss leaving my house without someone on my side, who needs to guide me (my disorientation, caused by noises, lights and motions, is a real pain in the ass!!!!)…I miss being touched by another person without screaming internally from pain…I miss making my own decisions!! I miss myself!

Severus saved me from going insane in so many different traumatic situations before….and I really hope, that I’ll be able to keep on counting on him forever…because right now, it’s getting almost unbearable to stay alive.

So, I’ll keep on doing the little things, which are currently saving me from drowning in my darkest, dangerous thoughts. I’ll keep on trying to be a good mother, even though I can only do it in my restricted space. I’ll keep on talking or texting to my few friends, even though it’s almost impossible for me to talk on some days. And I’ll keep on clinging on Severus, writing my own words for him in so many ways.

I have a real soft spot for young Severus. My imaginations of saving him…protecting him…defending him are helping me to believe in my own strength. I would do anything to save him…just the way, I’m trying to be saved by him from my own misery.

I’ve commissioned the extremely talented @sleepybradipo for this beautiful artwork of Sevy and Jules, stealing some kisses in the back of the library (Jules doesn’t have any self-control when it’s about Severus 😅).

@sleepybradipo, I’m so weak for your smooth style of drawing Severus, especially in his teenage years. Your art helps me to feel even more connected to Sevy…allowing him and Jules to enjoy some moments of peace. Thank you for making my imagination come to life…and for bringing some light into my darkness.

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

#Sevy x Jules #Severus x Julia #severus x oc #fuck me/cfs #commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism #this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom #mecfs #personal #i love severus #he’s my safe haven #i love snape #snape love #severus snape #i would protect him with my life #i will defend him with my life #i would fight for him #i would die for him #i would kill for him #snape #pro snape #pro severus snape #snape content #snapedom #snart #severus fanart #severus snape fan art #severus snape art #snape art

[angelshizuka]

honestly… i LOVED movie!adrien. he just feels so much more /real/ than show!adrien (which i guess is the point if you weigh in senti stuff) and like… idk. he’s just a silly 14 year old boy who’s still got some residual trauma from losing his mom! maybe i’m partly projecting show!adrien onto him, but even the way he turns marinette down seemed like he genuinely felt bad for doing so.

part of me feels like show!adrien’s entire characterization is created around the basis of being a love interest for marinette, and instead in the movie we got to see him be more… realistic than that. he fights with his dad! he opens up to marinette about his mom! he has PAIN and he’s affected by it (unlike the show where it seems his mother’s disappearance has barely affected his day-to-day life even though in that universe he lost her way more recently than in the movie) and he has a hard time letting people in because of that pain (illustrated beautifully by the headphones) but he still takes the chance on his new friend group! ladybug inspires him to give the world a chance again! and when she rejects him he shuts back down, and puts the headphones back on, which again, is a very realistic response.

i think this movie would have been a solid 10/10 for me if they had cut maybe 1-2 of the songs and instead explored their lives/relationship at school a little more, so we got to see these themes a little more clearly, but i really don’t get the movie!adrien bashing like at all lol. it kinda makes me uncomfy that people are calling movie!adrien like a fuckboy incel when he’s just… a more realistic version of himself instead of this fantasy perfect boy that can do no wrong idk…

(i still love show!adrien btw i just wanted to dump this somewhere LMFAO)

Yes, yes, yes! This is exactly what I've been talking about!

I genuinely love show!Adrien, but the writing keeps fucking him over. His mother died recently (either 100 days or weeks before the 100th episode, I can't remember which one it was, but even 100 weeks is barely 2 years), yet he acts like it barely affects him at all, not even in private (because I totally understand acting fine around other people, that's how a lot of people grief).

Meanwhile with movie!Adrien we actually SEE the affects of his grief and it's a major part of his arc and the way he behaves throughout the movie. But godforbid a teenage boy griefing his dead mother and dealing with a neglectful father isn't a "perfect sunshine boy" who isn't allowed to grief (by the narrative).

And yeah, I genuinely love the movie, but even I can acknowledge Adrien needed 1 or 2 more scenes for his arc to wrap up better (but even with that it's miles better than the show and THAT is the problem, that even a movie with problems still did it better by a landslide).

Though I love both Adriens, the core difference is how I genuinely love the actual on screen movie!Adrien, while with show!Adrien I love the potential and the few good moments that shine through the bullshit, but they become rarer with every season.

Like, the whole reason I love show!Adrien is BECAUSE he can be a little shit just as much as movie!Adrien, and one of the reasons I hate his writing in recent seasons is BECAUSE they've been forcing him into the "perfect sunshine boy" role that people have been blindly buying into.

Movie!Adrien is imperfect, makes mistakes, acts irrational, is allowed to have his own emotions,, isn't always the "oh, so perfect husband material", he's his own person first and love interest second, and THAT is why I love him.

#ladybug and cat noir the movie #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug movie #miraculous awakening #miraculous the movie #miraculous movie #ml movie #ml movie spoilers #ml salt #ml writers salt #ml fandom salt #chat noir #cat noir #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #anon #ask

[constantineshots]

as someone wit cancer (posting this anonymously because some ppl on the internet hear this and go fucking crazy) I’ve always found John Constantine is actually a really interesting rep In theory. I do think Delano like most things fumbles the bag when it comes to that topic but… it’s Delano what do you expect. I really like timelines where John gets treatment before it’s terminal (though usually that very idea seems out of character) or something it’s such a comfort hc. sorry for rambling. I was wondering how YOU interpreted johns cancer storylines as the John Constantine guy.

hey, you’re safe here, do what’s best for you! and I wish you the best. and never apologize for rambling! i love rambling. please keep rambling.

i’ll put this under a read more because i realized how long this is, but i hope it helps answer your question!

but as the john constantine girlie, it’s always been such an incredibly interesting plotline to me. he does take drastic measures to cure himself in the main vertigo timeline, and his interactions with other cancer patients and then realizing that this thing is terminal… it was intriguing. because it’s john. how he handles things is so much different than how others will. you’re never going to get the logical answer- “maybe he’ll get treatment.” “maybe he’ll go find healing magics that could help him.” “maybe he’ll go spend more time with his loved ones.” this is how most people would think to act. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have cancer, but if it were me, i feel like i’d be angry to be living on a timer, so i’d probably check a few things off my bucket list out of spite. not john constantine, though. instead he threatens a war in hell over his soul so everyone has to cure him.

john smokes cigarettes. we all know this to be a fact. however, he ends up getting terminal lung cancer as a result. it shows a very possible risk that most people aren’t willing to acknowledge until it’s too late.

i haven’t spoken to my mother in forever because our relationship was never good ( can’t you see why i like john constantine now? ), but in a way, it reminded me of her. she was a heavy smoker, and i, as a child who sometimes went over to her house begrudgingly, would be caught up in second hand smoke. as a result, these sorts of things were big worries of mine, and yet every time i told her she can’t do things like smoke inside the house and such, she’d just do it anyway. which put everyone at risk.

while, of course, cancer isn’t always caused by smoking, it can be, and she never took it seriously, not even when she was coughing badly and it was clearly dangerous for her health anyway. I don’t think she ever will.

within john’s character, though, we know he clearly didn’t care much. of course, he didn’t want to die because he knew he was going straight to hell at the time. so he concocted his little plan and ended up curing himself of cancer and not dying as a result… and then continuing with the bad habit. he’s a comic book character, so i guess it’s different, but i think it kind of sent the wrong message.

after a tale of john being distressed about having cancer and having to say goodbye to the people he cared about, or john meeting others who had cancer and being affected by the loss of someone who had died as a result of it, i think some expected him to put down the cigarettes. but alas, john has never been the kind of person to make good decisions.

so when i see him doing the smart thing in some storylines or aus that people write and so forth, i’m always stunned. like good on him, of course, handling his shit before it gets worse, but john has always liked to be a pain in the ass and wait until the worst possible moment. like the exact day he’s supposed to die for example. though i do enjoy these more, because it sends the right message…. john isn’t the kind of character you look to to give you the right message in most aspects. his political beliefs are good, but everything else is a dumpster fire.

but in my opinion, john constantine is a character- one of a rare few- who has cancer. there’s a described time of his struggles with it, some depression from it, the loss of someone he’d met who had it, and that was a journey. but then, in true john constantine fashion, the cornered rat idea he has, he cures himself of it- or, well, more forces some other beings to cure him of it, but hey.

that’s all i got, but feel free to explain further on anything you want to!

#asks #john constantine #hellblazer #tw: cancer

[theshinazugawaslut]

thank u 4 ur post on sanekanae LMAO. its so painful as an author when ppl misinterpret and read over his character, and assume he had romantic feelings… when it’s stated he saw his mother in her?? .. ppl jst have to romanticise every chick and dude within a shared vicinity.

also he’s dull at romance so!

That's what I was thinking, too — it's stated he sees his mother in her so it's obvious he only may have liked her in a 'motherly' light (like how Inosuke sees Nezuko/Shinobu). Otherwise, there's less than one handful of interactions we see with Sanemi and Kanae.

My first problem is that Sanemi and Kanae barely knew each other. Kanae died at seventeen which means she died a few weeks after meeting/knowing Sanemi, and from the wind pillar light novels, they interact twice (and both times Sanemi mentions she reminds him of his mother). So, I think even if Sanemi 'liked talking to Kanae' (per Gyomei's words) he didn't know her for very long.

My second problem is that the entire idea of Sanekana is that it entirely goes against Sanemi's writing for a number of reasons:

Sanemi is in the Corps for one reason and one reason only: to protect Genya. He has selflessly devoted himself to protecting his little brother for his entire life 'till death', so that Genya could do things like getting married and having children (something that Sanemi NEVER saw for himself at this point, mind you).

Sanemi's character is also heavily self-sacrifical as he inflicts a punishment upon himself by distancing himself from Genya.

Sanemi, who knows somewhere in his heart that he's doing wrong to Genya, would not get close to someone else (especially romantically) since he believes it would be selfish and hypocritical. He also wouldn't want to get sidetracked from his 'goal'.

I also believe Sanemi would feel guilt over being friends with Masachika since he's abandoned Genya.

Due to these reasons, I think Sanemi would never romantically like anyone in the first place, and even if he did, he's rather dull with romance.

My personal belief is that Sanemi is probably a whole ass raging virgin man too since it fits in with his character and morals, and he just couldn't let someone get that close to him (touch, love, sex would scare the shit out of him; he needs to be with someone he trusts very dearly for even a damn kiss on the cheek).

That aside, the real reason I don't like Sanekanae is because of Kanae herself.

Kanae has terrible writing. Quite literally the worst writing, and with the writing she has, she does NOT fit Sanemi at all. Her entire character writing is contradictory as she's only there for Shinobu's story — Sanekanae was an afterthought the author might've had because it doesn't even fit inside the narrative at all.

Kanae is also a huge fake to me. She comes off as one of those people that say they're 'so sweet and lovely' but are genuinely rather cold/stern. Even that stupid fucking advice she gave Kanao just made her seem like a brainless anime girl to me. Kanae is one of those characters that are made to fit a character's backstory hence her personality changes every two fucking seconds (trying to make her seem easygoing with that god-awful coin and boy advice she gave to a very abused Kanao; in her dying moments, discouraging Shinobu from continuing with the Corps; when she first meets Sanemi, she doesn't come off as 'sweet' she just comes off as easily irritable and indifferent; then when she appears in Shinobu's head during the Douma fight, she just gives some generic words).

I also don't think Kanae even liked Sanemi LMAO.

(I have more to say but I'm genuinely raging just thinking about this ship and her. The author of demon slayer does NOT know how to pair people together.)

#esha blabbers #esha does shit #esha answers your questions #sanemi #kny #demon slayer #sanekanae #i hate this ship

[ellsieee]

I'm really going to miss SWM despite the sad ending. The actors really did a great job with what they had and could do. I knew the accident was going to hurt me, and that it would be a OE, but I did not expect it to be more like a BE. More about that later. At least we got a whole episode of happy boys before all the shit hit the fan.

This scene really touched me. Su Yu pushes Wu Bi to achieve his dreams and is there to support him all the way. We also get another hint of what Wu Bi's time capsule wish is. My guess is that he wished for he, Su Yu and Doudou to always be together. Normally it's Wu Bi who is always saying he doesn't want to be separated from Su Yu, but this time, it's Su Yu telling Wu Bi not to leave him, pulling on Wu Bi's heartstrings. 🥹

Why does Wu Bi have a picture of his and Su Yu's epic bike ride framed? Did his mother draw that? Did he get the idea from her? Wu Bi, I have so many questions...

Su Yu wrote a wish card for Wu Bi too. 🥹 I am not ok. 😭

One last shout out to the shipper girl. She knows. 🤭 I'm glad they didn't write her as a crazy person, inserting herself into Wu Bi and Su Yu's relationship and doing a bunch of weird stuff to get them together.

Arghhhh the foreshadowing! When Su Yu said that, my heart filled with dread even though I already knew what was coming. No. They're going to ride their bike together forever ok. 😭

Wu Bi is so completely smitten with Su Yu. It's all heart eyes, all the time. They are so cute. Was this the reward Su Yu was talking about? I thought it would be something 🔞, but taking Wu Bi on a date might motivate him even more. I mean what kind of equestrian center has prince charming equestrian outfits? 🤭 I think they look great, but this totally looks like a date (Doudou is just there to make it look less gay).

Wait a minute... that's not what the director demonstrated! I wanted to see that peck on the lips! Please tell me they shot two versions and we'll see the uncut version later. 🙏

Psycho alert! 🚨 Mo Yi was hella creepy here. I was a bit scared he would actually hurt Su Yu. You can feel all the resentment he has for Su Yu. First his ex-gf wanted to be with Su Yu rather than him. Second, Wu Bi has chosen Su Yu over him and is acting like a little bitch towards him. Not defending him, but I honestly don't think Mo Yi would have felt such hatred and resentment if Wu Bi hadn't started being really rude and bratty towards him after falling in love with Su Yu.

The ultimate sacrifice. 😭 Wu Bi knew there was no way to stop the car safely so he chose to protect Su Yu by crashing the car on the driver's side. Even though I knew the accident was going to happen, it still hurt so much. Wu Bi will always protect Su Yu no matter what. I read some comments scolding Su Yu for sleeping even though he knew something was wrong with the car. My interpretation is that Su Yu wasn't sleeping, he was worried too, but he trusted Wu Bi completely, and Wu Bi told him to rest because he can handle it, so he did. The level of trust and confidence you need to have in your partner for that is just...

I didn't notice this the first time watching because I was too busy wailing, but Wu Bi hugged Su Yu to protect him. FUCK. 😭😭😭😭 For all the unreasonable jealousy and temper tantrums, Wu Bi really is the best boy.

This is so painful, I can't screencap bloody Wu Bi anymore. It killed me that Wu Bi woke up for a second to stare into Su Yu's eyes when Doudou called to complete their OT3, only to fall into a comma again.

Argh this ending! Is Wu Bi alive or dead? I didn't notice that the doctor nods a little when speaking to Su Yu the first time around. Doctors usually only nod when the operation was successful, so I guess Wu Bi is alive but what about the empty house? Only Wu Bi's stuff is still there, meaning that everyone left him? How is this not a BE? 😭

Of course this makes sense as a set up for a season 2 but I feel like they still could have given us a conclusion. Something like Wu Bi lives, but Su Yu left because he knew Mo Yi was crazy and he wanted to protect Wu Bi. Then the new season would be about how the boys find their way back to each other. It wasn't necessary to leave viewers hanging and heartbroken. 😢 And with 24 episodes of 30+ minutes runtime, I felt the team had enough time to tell a complete story. It shouldn't matter that book 1 of the novel ended like the series because the drama should stand on its own outside of the novel. Besides, wouldn't it have been safer just to film the whole thing at once to avoid the risk of not being allowed to film part 2?

There's a lot of doubt that S2 will actually happen, but someone asked Mo Yi's actor if there will be a 2nd season and he said that there should be. I'm not going to get my hopes up too much before there is official news that everyone is shooting again to spare myself any disappointment, but of course I am hoping for a second season. In the meantime, I hope cjd will release the uncut version of the series that she teased about before. I really do love this series so much even though I was disappointed with the ending. I'll have to treat SWM like MODC and skip the end. SWM only has 22 episodes. Yup. 🤡

#i made myself sad again rewatching the accident 😭 #i need to rewatch them stare into each other's eyes full of love to ease the pain #please let me hear news about the start of filming for s2 soon #stay with me #stay with me the series #stay with me reactions

[strawbubbysugar]

HI I HAVE A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS 🙋

1. What would Monty's reaction be to Stink? Y'know, once the big guy is fixed and not acting like a sewer rat. Will he help take care of him?

2. Are we going to get a oneshot of Morgan and Monty interacting in any way? Maybe Morgan seeing Monty be slowly repaired with every visit and even helping when they can, or after he's fixed and they go home together where they talk things out and have a heart-to-heart conversation? I like to imagine ""The Big Talk"" happens on the way back home in Morgan's dinked up truck after a few minutes or even hours of painfully awkward silence and a bit of strained small talk, but seeing Monty's reaction to Morgan's home and us even getting to know what it looks like would be nice, too! I think seeing the home or living evironment of a character helps me understand them better, plus it's just interesting.

3. A bit of a continuation of my previous question- what does Monty think about Y/ngineer not being his soulmate? Will he ever find out what Morgan did to Y/ngineer? If so, how will he react to it? I can't remember if he even knows they're soulmates with Sun/Moon/Eclipse, so how will he feel if he saw them being affectionate, whether he knows or not? Is he over Y/ngineer and ready to move on with Morgan? On the other hand, what does Morgan think of Monty being their soulmate, Monty in general, and about having an animatronic for a soulmate? I can't remember if this was ever discussed, I apologize if so.

4. Will we get an update on how both Roxy and Chica are doing on the farm that's set a couple of months or so in the future, after everyone is repaired and the dust has settled? Will we get a little fluffy look into their daily life, relationship and how they both react to farm work? Or rather some hurt/comfort when the sky is depressingly dark, the house is dead quiet and the memories and phantom pains won't stop? I miss my girls. 😢

5. Could you share some thoughts you have for a potential oneshot with Cassie and Roxy? Maybe a bit of hurt/comfort with Cassie visiting and comforting Roxy after, y'know, everything, or seeing her when she'll all fixed up? Will Cassie get to meet Chica? (I'm assuming Cassie has a mother that's still around so would that make Chica her 3rd mother? 🤔)

6. How is Maddie? I think we had brief mentions of her near the end but I hope she's doing well and spending enough time with her dads! Juggling repairing 5 animatronics, taking care of a baby, and planning for the future must be overwhelming for Matt, even with Y/ngineer, Eclipse and his parents there to help him. :( Will we see Y/ngineer or/and Eclipse play with little Maddie? That would be so so cute! I suspect the boys didn't see a lot of infants in the daycare. 🥺 Speaking of... how did Maddie react to the long trip to Twin Falls? She's is an angel but I assume she didn't take the move too well.

SORRY FOR ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER ANY OF THEM IF YOU DON'T WANT TO OR IF YOU'VE ALREADY ANSWERED THEM BEFORE. Love you (platonically) have a good day okaybye. 🙇

AAH I LOVE ANSWERING QUESTIONS TY THIS IS LIKE A PRESENT TO ME!!!!

I honestly think he'd be scared of him at first. like not over the top screeching but he'd refuse to hold him, and he'd freeze when hes put on him. eventually hed have a begrudging respect for stink bc stink likes to bite

Oooh that really puts me in the mood to write about them! Maybe Ill do a oneshot tonight for morgan & monty :)

He isnt stoked about the fact that they arent soulmates, he was starting to feel pretty sure that they were. but he isnt distraught over it - its more of a workplace crush than a real true "i need you" crush. He'd be pissed that morgan did what they did to them, but at the same time, hes done some pretty bad shit to people he cares about too - its another thing they can relate about. he sees morgan trying to be a better person and respects that. If monty were a human man he would 100% be morgan's type down to a t. however, they arent the monster fucker robot lover the y/ngineer is, so it takes more time for them to get used to the idea of a giant crocodile machine being their soulmate. it gets easier they longer theyre together, and the more they get to know each other!

I might write a oneshot for it possibly, along with cassie coming for a visit!! :) it'd be touched upon in the sequel if I ever write it!

tbh I have less ideas for these guys than I do other characters (mostly bc roxy is a mother NO DRAMA and no drama means less story hddsf) but I could see myself writing a oneshot where cassie comes and sleeps over with her dad's permission!

Maddie is doing wonderfully! She's a little angel and her grandparents are watching her while Matt and the gang make the move to the new home! Matt will drive back and pick her up once theyre settled in, so it isnt too much for her. Once shes there and all settled in, Eclipse ends up watching her most of the time while matt and y/ngineer run the shop. After someone sees him doing so well with their kids at the playground while babysitting maddie, they ask him if he runs a daycare, and he decides that YES, he does! Which is how Clear Skies Daycare starts! :)

#ask #so(u)l spoilers #so(u)l lore #THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME INFODUMP ILY!!!