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#my brain just cannot watch things in peace
winchestergifs · 1 year
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I can’t believe I have to ask this but what IS Stackednatural? I’ve been a spn fan for over a decade and on tumblr just as long and I’ve never known what it meeeaaans. 😭
nskdjfg no worries! lots of people are for sure wondering the same thing since i’m not really explanin anything XD
its just watching the episodes on the dates they aired, which i’m tryin to do (i’m only a year and about 2 months behind kfgndfsg) so basically i’m makin gifsets in that order...
so like, there’s 327 eps, and sometimes i make one gifset per epsiode, sometimes a few cuz theres too many worms, sometimes theres a bunch of episodes that aired on the same day so we get fun parallels! then i can end up makin like 3-4-5 gifests in a stack cuz theres nobody to stop me ;lsdjfgkldfg clearly this is why im so far behind XD
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baeshijima · 11 months
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— hsr men in a royalty au
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INCLUDES : blade ; dan heng ; gepard ; jing yuan ; luocha ; sampo + gn!reader
A/N : what started off as a duke!blade word vomit became a hsr royalty au brain dump. sighs. also once again pushing my knight!reader agenda bc the lack of royalty aus with knight!reader is criminal.
genshin ver.
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imagine you're the personal guard for emperor!jing yuan, picked by his hand when he was still just a mere crown prince learning the ropes of what it meant to rule an empire. in truth, there's not much for you to do other than stand close behind when in public settings or indulge in his whimsical nature when in private and within the confines of the palace walls. in spite of that, you can't help but to wonder whether it's necessary to be his partner when he practises ballroom dances, despite never actually dancing in the banquets. well, who are you to question your duties, right?
there is no destination without a journey; jing yuan would know this best. having been thrust onto a pedestal from young, he's witnessed more types of people than he can count on his fingers: those who act nice in order to gain, those whose eyes cannot hide their contempt, those who are kind out of fear, those who act on behalf of others, those who hold respect without ulterior motives... he has seen them all. his view of the world grew dull, the predictability of those around him bringing only disappointment to the young heir. the days passed in a blur with nothing of note, other than a lingering emptiness which kept him awake at night and a passion which only emerges when sparring with his instructor. and so when he was told it was time to choose a personal knight after countless assassination attempts, he trudged through the halls with poise ingrained into his stride and a blank gaze reflecting his thoughts. but when he arrived at the training grounds to oversee the potential candidates his attention was immediately seized by another, his usually stagnant heart thundering. for the first time in his life, jing yuan discovered what it meant to want something as he watched you strike your training sword against your opponent, his world bursting into colours he never knew existed before then.
jing yuan sometimes finds himself envying those who can dance without care at banquets. he has an image to maintain in front of his people while you tend to be a stickler for this kind of thing, often refusing a dance in favour of maintaining your post. he supposes it's fine if you're both together, despite the numerous times he's imagined what it would be like to dance with you in front of everyone, as opposed to the privacy of the palace under the guise of “not becoming rusty”. but as he casts his gaze over to where you rest, having fallen asleep after a particularly thrilling game of starchess with your body tucked within the protective embrace of his ever-dutiful lion, he finds himself engraving moments like these into his memory and filing them away to look back on when nights to himself become a little too lonely for his liking. it's one of the many sides to you which only jing yuan has been privy to; one of which he takes immense pride in and vows to shelter from the danger which lurks around every corner.
(he will never let you know how your bright eyes is what set his once monotonous life ablaze in colour all those years ago — the aloof crown prince utterly besotted with a starry-eyed rookie knight. he will also never let slip how he still thinks back on the warmth he felt when you took his trembling, slumped form in your arms after he fought his stricken teacher all those years ago, the aftereffects of your touch still lingering on his skin even to this day.)
despite being duty-bound beside the impish emperor, there are times where you, too, are in need of some peace away from his scheming mind and watchful eyes. in these moments, you find yourself finding respite within the royal library built into the palace, a stack of books typically used as your makeshift pillow. and even if librarian!dan heng gives you a death stare from his designated place, you know he appreciates your company when he drapes a blanket over your shoulders and replaces the book pile with a cushion or two. although, you can’t shake off the feeling you’ve seen him from somewhere before…
for as long as he can remember, dan heng has always been on the run. from what? he’s not even sure anymore; it has been that long. it is but a mere shadow, a phantom which haunts him under the glowing sun and the gleaming moon. he can run — run until his body is weak and heavy with fatigue — but he can never hide, for it follows close behind and lurks around unseen corners. as unnerving as it may be, he has grown used to the chilling gaze and staying on edge. after all, no matter how far he runs, no matter how hard he tries to blend in, there is no escaping a shadow. maybe that is why he felt a churning sensation stir in his gut when he first met the emperor to discuss his newly appointed position as the librarian, whose gaze held an unfamiliar sheen of conflict veiled behind an amiable disposition upon making eye contact. amidst the eyes of the sun held a glint of familiarity, one which dan heng couldn’t put his finger on the longer he dwelled on the thought.
dan heng didn’t know what to expect when he first met you; you, the personal guard handpicked by jing yuan himself. with all the duties he’s sure keeps you busy, it wouldn’t surprise him if he never met you past the glimpses he catches here and there when in official spaces. perhaps that is why it came as such a surprise when you stumbled into the library one day, all bleary-eyed and attempting to stifle your yawns, and he could only watch in a daze as you pulled out a random set of books from the shelves, plop yourself down at the nearest table, set the books on the surface and slam your head atop the pile, your soft snores filling the once-quiet room. dan heng wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at you for, but it was long enough to wake you up and inform you of the library’s closing hour when the day’s hues bled into the night. what he thought would be a one-time thing soon became a regular occurrence — a routine — and he has become accustomed to your unceremonious visits and wonderful laughter and draping the blanket he now keeps under his desk over your slumbering form and admiring your peaceful expression over the rim of his novel. it’s come to a point where he can no longer imagine a life without it; without you.
(sometimes he wonders whether you enjoy the time spent with him as much as he does with you, in which he cannot help but to compare himself to the emperor you have pledged your life and devoted your loyalty to. amidst those thoughts, dan heng finds himself hoping you would favour him over the shine of the empire’s revered sun.)
royal guard captain!gepard is someone you have always admired, ever since you were just a rookie knight trying to prove your worth amongst a sea of prodigal candidates like him. he is kind as he is strong, a formidable ally and a terrifying foe. however, you can't help but wonder whether you’ve done something to offend him, what with the way he sometimes avoids you if you happen to bump into each other amidst the palace grounds and speedwalks in the opposite direction with hasty apologies trailing behind him.
the landau dukedom. it is known for its military prowess and defending the borders, but infamous for the strict duke landau. as well-respected he may be by the nobles of the court, gepard only knows a strict man more like a superior than a father. it wouldn’t be a lie to say duke landau was just that; a superior — a teacher, one who viewed his children as either heir candidates or a foundation to bolster the territory’s military power. while it may be a strict method, the respect gepard holds for his father is undeniable, feuling his desire to make him proud and carry out his teaching in the name of the honourable landau duchy. he stuck to harsh training regimens, endured countless trials of tactics and wit, witnessed his elder sister begin to refute against their father’s suffocating hold upon returning from the academy, watched as she left the duchy to have control over her own life with a promise to keep in touch with him and their youngest sister. these moments were fleeting, passing in a blur until he entered the ranks of the elite, eventually promoted to captain as he remained steadfast in defending the borders.
it took gepard countless sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed and a highly amused serval laughing at his predicament to finally understand his feelings for you. love was an unfamiliar concept to him. he knew of camaraderie between fellow knights (which was what he assumed he felt for you, but just a bit more… intense?) and familial bonds between family, so this new experience of his heart palpitating, hands clamming up, words stuck in his throat and an incessant heat clinging to his cheeks was unfamiliar, thus his avoidance. though that didn’t sit well with him, as a longing ache only seemed to replace it instead. and so, despite the apparent awkward flair his body language carried, gepard decided to follow his heart when it came to matters pertaining to you. he quickly came to discover your likes and dislikes, your miniscule habits when practising swordsmanship, the subtle cues you display when uncomfortable, the smile you showed upon seeing something you liked and the grin you displayed upon besting him in a duel. they were all segments which made up the very being you are, and the pieces which fit within his heart to establish this newfound love he holds for you.
(as your direct superior there are many things he notices when watching from the sidelines. among many, the one which stands out are the eyes which follow you — some gaze at you with envy, others regard you with awe, but there are a few which regard you in the same adoration he does. love and jealousy were never something gepard thought he would experience; not until he met you.)
with your role as one of the empire’s royal knights and the emperor’s personal guard, it comes as no surprise to be inflicted with injuries of varying severities. as a result, you are well-acquainted with royal physician!luocha through your numerous visits. you’ve come to find his pleasant visuals and soothing voice does wonders to heal your fatigue, even if he does tend to go a little overboard in his lectures when you come to him with less-than-fine wounds.
being able to wield elements and being able to use divine powers are two different things; one is widely accepted, the other is not. at least, that’s the case in the xianzhou empire. those born with the ability to use divine powers have fled into hiding, unwilling to be outcasted — or worse, executed — for being afflicted with the cursed power of the divinity. as such, having lived the majority of his life in concealment, luocha is no stranger to hiding his abilities. curse or blessing, it’s an irrevocable part of him. still, he didn’t want to stop helping others the way the nature of his powers could. and so he resorted to learning medicine. he soon became a renowned travelling doctor sought after for his vast knowledge, all of which garnered the attention of the emperor when he stopped by in the capital and was offered the position of royal physician. with little drawbacks, handsome pay, and a grand place to stay without needing to be on the run, luocha accepted and became the sole royal physician of the empire.
there was very little luocha found himself to be afraid of. with no one but himself to rely on, he’s crossed many bridges on his own without care. there was no need for such sentiment in survival. or so he thought. in all his years, luocha doesn’t think there was anything more terrifying than the day you were rushed in by a frantic jing yuan, your complexion sickly and covered in sweat and breathing laboured. as it turned out, you were poisoned, having drank it in place of jing yuan upon sensing something suspicious. he doesn’t recall anything making his heart drop as quickly as the situation then had, his mind blank yet frantic as he forced the panic-stricken emperor out of the infirmary and laid you on one of the beds. your symptoms were dire, he noted, and there was nothing in the cabinets suited for this kind of quick-acting poison. your condition was worsening, a pained furrow of your brows and haggard appearance being clear indicators. a bright glow then illuminated the room, and luocha came to the belated realisation he had used his abilities for the first time since concealing them, for the thought of losing you was far more torturous than his will to hide his abilities.
(there was no thought to the act, just sheer desperation to not let you die. it took him a long few days to realise that, all of which were spent looking after you by your bedside. he never spoke of how he cured you when you asked, eyes bleary with confusion on how you’re still alive, instead choosing to keep it to himself as he chided you for being so reckless. you will never know of the inner turmoil he endured, even praying to a deity he never once believed in to ensure your safety. should you sustain more severe afflictions, luocha has no qualms using his abilities again — if it means you live, he will make an exception.)
thinking about duke!blade, whose… less than pleasant disposition does little to help refute the fearful rumours surrounding his name. you've met him a handful of times when he visits the palace under jing yuan's summon or catching him at the odd banquet or two, and even back when he used to train with jing yuan before his visits suddenly ceased. even so, you find yourself doubting those rumours, especially when he seems to wear an expression akin to peace more often than he does of one resembling disdain.
the cold duke remains an enigma to those around him — even those who work under him. is it due to his quiet hostility? or is it perhaps something no one knows, such as a secret known only to him, his butler, his family physician, and the emperor? a curse; one of immortality where his soul is torn to shreds only to be stitched anew before he can succumb to the paradise known as death. it's a never-ending cycle, one which causes him to no longer track the days when they all feel the same. the days out on leading monster subjugations and expeditions are just a temporary means of escape — an outlet for his pent up frustrations to let loose without worry. no one knows what truly goes on in his mind, only ever witnessing or hearing tales of his brutal yet awe-inspiring deeds on the blood-soaked battlefields, and the origin of his adopted alias: blade. his true name evades him, having been discarded the moment he lost his humanity.
he has always noticed you. it was hard not to when the favour you received was blatantly obvious, even from when you were just a fledgling knight and he the young heir of his duchy. there weren’t many opportunities for him to talk to you, what with the way jing yuan always seemed to divert his attention back to their instructor when noticing his wandering gaze to your distant figure, and even more so after the curse struck him full-force and he stopped visiting altogether outside of summons and banquets. it wasn’t until he returned from a monster subjugation as the sole survivor did he first properly meet you. with his mind torn and body regenerating itself, he failed to notice someone rush towards him, an unfamiliar warmth encompassing his bleeding torso as his conscience began to fade. an unfamiliar ceiling and an unfamiliar room was what greeted him when he awoke, but a warmth he registered as familiar gripped his calloused hand. what met his gaze then was your dozing figure, your head smushed against the duvet beside his leg with even breaths giving way to your unconscious state. his typically chaotic mind was silent as he stared at you. it was an odd feeling, one which elicited a sharp inhale when you shifted in place, your grip on his hand loosening as you sought out a more comfortable position, before exhaling in relief when you resumed your rest. it was an odd feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. and, for the first time in his life, blade experienced what it meant to be at peace.
(while he never spoke of that incident to you again other than a brief thanks for giving him (unnecessary) medical attention, he found himself drifting towards you more frequently — whether it be conversing with you during those bothersome banquets, stretching out the time you escort him before he enters jing yuan’s office-slash-meeting room, sharing specialties from his territory during garden strolls, or even requesting you to spar with him. the victory from either side is sweet, but the strained expression he catches from notable figures is even sweeter.)
amongst the many you’re acquainted with, merchant!sampo is the one you’re most on edge around in spite of the years you have known each other for. it’s not that he’s a bad guy, but there’s something about his easy smile and ever-searching eyes and his words that always seem to form into something people want to hear which all seem… off. well, maybe you’re reading too much into his demeanour. after all, if he truly did have sinister intentions, you’re sure he would have acted on them by now — he’s had plenty of time to.
there’s a certain level of cunning one must have in order to survive. whether that be wits, deceit, getting one’s hands dirty, it doesn’t matter. they are all just a means to an end, after all. sampo has long since tread on the path of deceit, a game of cat and mouse with unassuming clients and authorities. but business is business, and what better way to make use of that than exploitation? disguised in a bar known as “masked fools” mapped across the globe sits a wealth of knowledge, hidden behind a secret code only known by those who covet wealth or revenge. it’s a fun pastime; the information-slash-mercenary guild receives money, the client has their request done. sampo quickly discovered playing the unassuming fool in front of the target only for them to discover they were the fool all along to be exhilarating. it was a rush like no other, even more so when he mastered the art of disguise and blended in with the crowd, building connections and biding his time as the airheaded merchant.
sampo admits, he was a tad hasty in his judgement of you. just a little. well, when compared to the ever-imposing figure of the royal guard captain chasing him down when he makes his weekly medicinal run for the palace’s physician, you weren’t all that impressionable at first glance. maybe it was the way you passively regarded him before walking off which led him to that belief, or perhaps it was the unassuming expression you always carried despite being the famed personal guard of the emperor. whatever the case, he was wrong. he realised that when his balance was tilted, back flush against the grass with your body pinning him down. the tip of your sword was against his throat and your eyes burned so brightly when asking what he was doing sneaking around a forbidden area to outsiders. he doesn’t remember what he said or did in response; all he does remember is the adrenaline rushing through his veins at the stern countenance you bestowed upon him. unconventional as it may have been, sampo thought you were the most breathtaking in that moment, a wondrous sight for his heart which only knew of cunning and deceit.
(it would be no lie to say money talks. in his line of business, it does all the talking. the only exception, sampo discovered, was when an ignorant fool attempted to hire him and have you… removed, to put it lightly. sampo couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him at the expression on the man’s face after his carefree refusal, a sound which ceased as he pointed his weapon to the man’s throat and demanded he spill the identity of the one who sent him. after all, a mere small-fry like him doesn’t have the ability to even dream of hiring someone against you — mercenary or assassin.)
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if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
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rick-rayson · 21 days
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LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS
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A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit
NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous
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┊BEFORE DATING:
Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.
Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.
And very, very bad flirting.
"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"
"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."
"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.
It breaks and she falls over.
Just. Really bad.
You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.
Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh
Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.
┊DATING:
She's actually a huge loser
Absolute girl failure
She's trying so hard though
Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.
At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.
You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.
She's a bit of a freak honestly.
SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.
Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.
You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"
Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.
But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.
Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.
When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.
Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.
Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.
Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books
"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"
hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.
"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.
Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.
Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.
She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.
Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.
Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.
Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.
Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.
She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.
She falls first, and she falls hard.
Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.
A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.
She most definitely uses it on you.
And uh.. NSFW headcanons?
SHE'S A FREAK!
AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!
That is all. c:
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cloudcountry · 1 year
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the first ice cream cone
SUMMARY: You take Malleus on an ice cream date! Except...something doesn't go as planned.
CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: I wrote this for a friend, but someone on quotev requested something for Malleus too!! I hope you enjoy it (and I have a baking oneshot in the works too C:)
~~~~~
You’d done some research before taking Malleus out on a date, asking Lilia what he seemed to like the most whenever they went on their outings. Lilia seemed amused at your question, but humored you with a slice of knowledge.
“He loves ice cream. It’s his favorite!” Lilia hummed, sipping on the tomato juice you brought him as a bribe, “Just don’t buy him any cake to go with it—the last time I bought him a cake, he ate the entire thing. He had really bad heartburn and has now sworn off of them.”
Now here you were. Standing outside of a nearby ice cream shop with a terrifyingly strong dragon man on your arm. He didn’t seem like it though, his eyes wide and full of wonder.
“Child of man…” he shook your arm gently, “Is this an ice cream shop?”
“Yes! I was hoping it’d be a good first date idea…I even talked to Lilia to make sure I wouldn’t do anything wrong.” you nodded, proud of your planning.
“It’s wonderful.” a smile flickered across his face, “Shall we?”
You dragged him inside first, insisting on paying with the limited amount of money Crowley had allowed you this week. You’d been saving up for a few weeks just in case, so anything Malleus wanted to try on this date would be his.
“Fascinating.” his stare was owlish as he blinked at the two scoop cones he ordered.
“I was surprised you went for pistachio.” you hummed, leading him to a bench outside.
“I was curious. I’ve never had this flavor before.” he eyed it up before taking a lick.
You watched him eat for a bit before you remembered your own ice cream, still watching him. He never looked this peaceful when he was in school, likely because Sebek and Silver would trail him constantly. You were lucky you could sneak him away for a little bit—there’s no doubt Sebek was probably losing his marbles over Malleus’ disappearance right now.
“Thank you for getting me away for a little while.” he said, placing a hand over yours.
“It’s no problem. You deserve it.” you wrapped your fingers around his hand and squeezed.
He chuckled, but said nothing else. You two enjoyed the ice cream and the quiet bustling of the outside world, without Lilia or Sebek or Silver or Ace or Deuce. Or Grim, actually. Especially Grim.
“Oh.” Malleus huffed, sounding alarmed.
You glanced over, watching as he clutched his head dramatically.
“Is everything okay?” you placed your hand on his back, watching him closely just in case he decided to pass out on you.
“Child of man…I believe I have been poisoned. My head…is collapsing.” he groaned, his grip on his ice cream cone beginning to crush the wafer.
“Are you…are you talking about a brain freeze?” you furrowed your brow, baffled at one of the strongest mages crumpled over at your feet from a little brain freeze.
“What is that? Will my brain turn to ice? I assure you, I am not so weak as to collapse—”
“Malleus.”
“I can handle myself. I shall consult the library as soon as possible so this disease cannot fester.”
“Malleus.”
“Child of man, I thank you for the brief pleasantries we shared before there was an attack on my life.”
“Malleus, listen to me.” you grabbed his arms, pulling him up, “It’s not fatal. A brain freeze is harmless. It’ll be gone in a minute. I promise.”
Malleus halted his dramatic hand movements staring at you in wonder.
“Child of man, your knowledge knows no bounds. I feel better already.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed deeply.
Well, it wouldn’t be Twisted Wonderland if you could go on a normal date.
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wordbunch · 6 months
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a little secret (Bilbo x f!reader)
a/n: my brain wrote this on its own while i re-watched the hobbit trilogy twice within like, a week, so... there is that!! it's been sitting in my drafts for months??? anyway it's just a fluffy little piece cause he is an absolute cinnamon roll (i've been neglecting him too much and i'm gonna fix it) 💖 let me know ur thoughts and opinions, and please be so kind to reblog? 🥺 i'm exciteddd to be back and figuring out new things to post!
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Yet another all-day-long march was behind them, and the setting sun signaled that it was time to set up camp for the night, and rest, as much as it was possible by sleeping on the ground and eating tiny portions of anything that was at all edible.
[y/n] let her weighty bag plop down onto the rough forest terrain and she let out a weary sigh, stretching her back and arms as much as it was humanly possible, wishing she could stretch away the negative feelings and thoughts that plagued her mind on that particular day.
As soon as Bilbo neatly stored his belongings near the bark of a tree, which seemed like a moderately comfortable spot to take a break in, his eyes keenly followed the movements and expressions of his beloved, who was uncharacteristically quiet and perhaps even sorrowful during the day. Normally she would put her things next to his and enjoy the few short hours of peace, but this time she just tossed them onto a random patch of grass and turned her back to him and the rest of the company, who were already discussing dinner. Before anyone asked her to weigh in with her opinion, she took the chance to walk away and among the trees, away from the commotion of the dwarves. 
Bilbo's curious eyes followed the shape of her in the shadows as long as they could, but soon enough she was out of sight and, inevitably, he began to worry immediately. As much as he wanted to let her have a few minutes of silence and contemplation, it was too dangerous for any of them to go wandering around alone, especially while exhausted in every way; so his anxiety got the best of him, and even though it was nice to finally sit down for a moment, he had to make sure she was alright.
She was expecting he would follow after her shortly, as she stood among the trees and hugged her own arms for extra warmth; trees were swaying in a chilly breeze as the last rays of sun painted them in saturated hues. The moment she heard some shuffling she turned around cautiously, but sighed in relief at the sight of her favorite (as a matter of fact, the only one she knew) hobbit. A small smile stretched her lips, without quite reaching her eyes, and that’s all it took for Bilbo to all but run to her and pull her close.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he spoke, albeit a little bit breathlessly, as soon as he reached the taller woman. “All day you have been acting…differently.” He murmured with caution, hoping not to offend her with his probing.
[y/n] released a shaky breath and shook her head slightly, looking down at his hands on her waist. Even though she felt like she would start crying if she spoke up, she didn’t want Bilbo to think she was keeping something from him; she knew him well enough to know he would surely overthink it later in the night, instead of sleeping.
“You know you can tell me anything,” he urged her in a soft voice, reaching up to her cheek and stroking it with the back of his hand. “Even if it’s about something that i’ve done,” he added, half-jokingly.
After a string of rough days packed with danger and uncertainty, she was rather moved by the display of tenderness, and she felt her lower lip quiver. At last her eyes, that were brimming with tears and exhaustion, met his, and he let out a quiet gasp. [y/n] could swear he looked like he could start crying only at seeing her like that.
“i just- I cannot,” she confessed shakily, while he pulled her as close to him as possible, “I cannot really handle all of this right now. I’m so tired, a-and there are so many terrifying things going on all the time, and it seems like this whole undertaking might never end, and I just can’t,” she rambled on, trying her best to fight the tears that wanted to spill. The grip she had on the hobbit’s shoulders was so strong, as if he was going to evaporate if she let him go. It was terrible for him to see her feeling that way, and for a second he felt a stab of guilt - maybe he was failing her - but he had to fix it as soon as he could. Both of his hands found a way to her tear stained face, and he gazed at her with so much love and understanding that she could have melted right in that moment. [y/n] wrapped her fingers around one of his wrists to ground herself in reality.
“My beautiful flower, most beautiful in all the world,” Bilbo began, speaking so lowly that only she could hear him, “do you want to know a little secret?” he raised his eyebrows with a playful glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. If he couldn’t make her smile, then what was the point of anything at all? She immediately recognized a small attempt at cheering her up, and her heart fluttered in her chest. she really considered herself lucky amid all the chaos.
“Yes, dearest,” she sniffed, but the beginning of a smile was playing on her lips too.
"I can’t either,” he chuckled airily, with a small shake of his head, “but with you by my side, maybe I can. And all of this has been… well, insane, to say the least, but it won’t last forever. I mean, I really hope so.” [y/n] finally laughed, and a tremendous weight was lifted off of his chest. Bilbo stood a little taller as he looked up at her with more hopeful eyes.
“But sometimes insane things lead to beautiful things, I suppose,” he continued, still cradling her face as if it was made of the finest glass, and his smile was contagious as she let those words sink in. “Trust me, I would love nothing more than to be at home with you right now, holding you close, wrapping you in blankets when you get cold, bringing you breakfast every. single. morning,” he accentuated his words with three taps of his finger to the tip of her nose, and her giggle warmed him up from his curls to his toes. “And look at the stars with you on every clear night, and read by the fire together, and chase away visitors because I want you only to myself…” he trailed off, suddenly very aware that she was looking at him with such open love that he needed to remind himself to breathe before continuing. “And, petal, I promise you, very soon we will be doing exactly that, we just need to finish up this-this little dwarven errand.” 
[y/n] all but threw herself over him in a haphazard hug, drawing out a startled laugh from the hobbit.
“Thank you,” she muttered into his hair. “I cannot wait to do all those things with you.”
“Anything for you, my love,” he replied, “and until then… even if we can’t, we can’t together.”
-
taglist my beloved @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorin-painter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @moth-makay
@bubbleyukismile @kitexvi @herstudios @babe-bombadil
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to me the magicians is largely a show about how terrible it is to be 23 both in the sense that it sucks so bad and in the sense that 23-year-olds suck so bad (confidential to 23-year-olds reading this: not you, dear, but also, check back once you've gone through your saturn return), so it's very rare that any of the characters do anything that actually bothers much less upsets me because i'm like, the terribleness is the point and much of the joy for me. but we all have our individual pressure points so for the sake of the historical record here is a complete list of times the characters in the magicians do something i dislike:
julia: in the pilot when she tells quentin "you're good at so many things, just pick one!" to me that is not only the meanest thing julia ever says or does to quentin it is maybe the meanest thing anyone ever does to anyone at any point on the entire show. like julia i love you more than life itself but can we maybe let a bitch live
quentin: there's a specific quality to the all-in earnest dorkiness with which he approaches the quest that i just cannot handle. it makes me want to walk into the screen and place my hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye and say "this is why you had no friends in high school." like at a certain point your inability to read the room becomes my problem and that's the point at which even though i would very literally lay down my life for yours i cannot even look you in the eye
alice: when she's super obnoxious and condescending to harriet about signing/communication/etc. this one gets an asterisk because i actually think that scene is good writing in that it's in character with what we know of alice and her flaws to be super weird about a deaf person and i think she is meant to come across as unpleasantly in the wrong and i like it when a show gives its protagonists such genuine types of behavioral errors. but it does make me viscerally uncomfortable to watch
josh: one of the less sung about hate crimes near the end of season 4 is josh chuckling to himself about how margo thinks she's mad at him but really she's mad at herself because he like superhumanly divines her emotional architecture because they've banged twice or whatever. this one gets an asterisk in the opposite direction because i feel like everything i (a known proponent of Josh Rights) enjoy about josh is down to the joshness of josh and everything i don't enjoy about josh is bad writing fueled by heterosexuality brain poison so it feels like i'm holding it against him unfairly when actually the real josh would not do that and it's just that the writers are bad. but that moment makes me feel like we need to send him to the guillotine immediately so on the list it goes
kady: kady doesn't matter enough to rise to the level of bothering me. sorry kady i love the version of you that exists in the universe written by writers who gave a shit
margo: i feel like i had one for margo at some point but i can't remember what it was. i guess i wish she were a little less anti-democracy once established upon the throne but i also read a lot of that as an outgrowth of her habit of being the tough bitch partly because she's worried about eliot getting his ass killed so.... eh
penny: literally nothing ever not even once not even for a second. i tried to think of one and i couldn't. and like i know that he does things on screen that are morally bad or simply not nice or whatever. but i'm like physically incapable of being upset by penny he brings me too much joy it cannot be cancelled out by ethical qualms or empathy for anyone else i'm a simple woman i see his beautiful face and i am at peace. he deserves to be a huge asshole to everyone all the time for no real reason, as a treat and also because it's soooooo funny. i would not want him to change a thing
eliot: ok like literally mind your business about margo's bush this is not being an ally!!!!!!
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beetljugo · 9 months
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(18+ MDNI) HI UHHHH I HAD MORE 👀 "THOTS"
cause onfg when i say his voice lines rewired my brain, I TRULY MESN THEYVE DONE SOMETJINH TO THE LITTLE ATOMS AND MOLECULES AND EVERY NUERON IN MY TINY LITTLE PEA SIZED BRAIN!!!!!
i love being able to write my horny thoughts down !!!!
im a firm believer that kyle is such an easy going lover. like just easy to please in a way AHHHHH
and i have this idea that he loves soft domestic sex thats anywhere BUT the bed. like i just imagine pretty lil sighs escaping his mouth when you ride him on the recliner in the living room. some random reality show playing (i feel like gaz is a lover of bad tv, guilty pleasures) in the background and he just holds onto your hips. gripping your sides and just caressing every curve and he just stares into your eyes with so much love and AHHHHH and you just cant help but kiss him so lovingly all over his face and i just think that since he loves just soft moments like this because it brings him so much peace that it turns him on so much more. usually hes such a tease but he doesnt have the brain capacity to tease you cause you and this moment is the only thing on his mind
he tries to look away cause hes about to cum and he doesnt want the moment to end but you gently pull his face back so hes looking at you in the eyes again kinda signaling him to let go, and you just watch his pupils blow out and his eyes go half lidded while he bites on his pretty bottom lip, a soft whine escaping his lips and just RAHHHHHH
or maybe like idk you get home from a date night both of you a little tipsy and way too giggly and just kinda kissing as you make your way into your home and like its just tender touches, tongues exploring eschothers mouths like its the first time all over again. and youre both so preoccupied with each other trying to make your way to the bedroom and your dumbasses both trip over yourselves in the hallway. and so there you both are spread out on the floor, a giggling mess like the two beautiful idiots you are and you just stare into his eyes and he leans in and kisses you so soft and OMG I CANNOT COMPOSE MYSELF and the kiss goes from oh so soft to deeper and heavier and its just a moment of fuck it, right here is fine as he sits both of you up to strip both of you
i have MANY thoughts cause that man makes me RAHHHHHHHH
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w1ldthoughts · 5 months
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(Not so) Happy Birthday Part II
A/n: thank you all so much for your patience I hope this was worth the wait!
Part I
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“Are you serious?” You heard a groaning voice behind you, belonging to your friend Jade who you’d been staying with. “How many times are you going to watch A Star Is Born? It’s getting concerning.”
You let out a small laugh, digging into what was your second popcorn bowl of the day. “I’m going to keep watching it until they live happily ever after. Or until I feel less bad about where my life is headed.” She sits down next to you and lets you rest your head on her shoulder while you desperately try not to cry for the second time today. The first week after the breakup you allowed yourself several meltdowns a day, the next week just one and this week you were really trying to keep it together as much as humanly possible. Needless to say, with your movie selections and inability to turn the camera or microphone on during your work meetings on Zoom in case you did get overwhelmed, things weren’t looking good.
“Do you think I made a mistake? Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled the trigger so fast and heard him out?”
Jade’s sigh gave you the answer you weren’t wanting to hear, but told you everything you needed to know. “Look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. But I am going to tell you that you are going to have to go over there and grab your stuff. You can’t just live in my clothes for the rest of your life. This depressive state cannot last forever.”
“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll text him now and make sure I’m only there when he’s at the facility.”
The next morning you found yourself in a very familiar place. Everything was spotless like no one even lived there. But the place was full of some of your most fond memories. The spot in front of the fridge where you kissed Justin for the first time. The couch where you spent many nights watching movies or looking for missing cards from a Settlers of Catan game that had Justin flipping the board over when Patrick beat him. So much time spent in the bedroom you were standing in now, where all of your things remained exactly where you’d left them.
“I’m sorry I didn’t pack your stuff. I really wanted to—make it easier for you but, that just made it more real that you were really gone.”
Of course he came home just for this.
The sound of his voice should have startled you but it brought you peace instead, it was a sad form of validation to see and hear that he was also struggling. “Is that why you haven’t slept in your bed?” You ask, finally feeling brave enough to turn and face him. He looked good, tired but good.
He lets out a dry chuckle. “You really don’t miss a thing do you? I’ve been sleeping in the guest room near the office. Didn’t feel right being here alone. But I understand why you left. And I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am y/n.”
“Well… are you sorry enough to help me pack up all of this stuff?” Under the guise of your humor, he could tell this was the very last thing you wanted to do so he just nodded and got to work.
The next few hours were spent packing and loading things into your car, every box held a piece of him in it. He held the last one in his hands and stopped you as you grabbed your keys.
“I want to be the man you deserve. And I promise I’m working on it.”
You motion for him to put the box on the floor and he does so immediately, gladly welcoming your body into his arms. This is where you wanted to be for all of eternity, without worrying about the real world and ignoring your intuition and just letting your heart cloud what your brain has been yelling at you since you walked away from him. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, running your fingers through his hair and watching him melt into your touch. This is your home, this is the man you love. So why in the world would you walk away from it? Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the distance between you two became nonexistent and all you could think about was giving into this moment and letting it all go. You closed your eyes and felt him inch closer and closer to your face.
And then you remembered everything that went wrong.
“Justin, I’m so sorry. I can’t.” You pulled away from him. “I need you to show me you’re trying. The best apology is changed behavior. As embarrassing as it is to admit, part of me will always belong to you and I need you to either match my energy or I need to move on because I can’t keep living like this. I’m not going to.” You picked up the box yourself and walked as fast as you could back to your car and drove away without a second glance. If this was going to work, he was going to have to earn you back.
“Should I throw her a makeup birthday party?”
Keenan and Derwin both look at each other and shake their heads. “Her birthday was like a month ago bro, a little cake and some flowers isn’t gonna do shit for you now.”
“How am I going to show her how much I care about her?”
Derwin places a hand on his shoulder, “you gotta dig deep, Herbo. Think about what the fight was about and deal with the problem head on. And be honest with her…and yourself.”
“Aye…that was deep man. I didn’t know you had all that in the drafts.” The wide receiver nods at his teammate. “But forreal Herb, do what you gotta do to get your lady back man. You got a good one, make sure she knows that.”
“No you’re right. We gotta beat Denver first and then I can figure out what to do after that. Thank you guys.”
Keenan stands up to dap him up before they head to practice. “You know we got you brother.”
He had to admit the protection had been pretty shaky all game. The quarterback felt rushed and had little to no time in the pocket before getting hit and the receivers had been struggling heavily with drops the last few weeks. The offense had just not been rolling in the way he hoped and their playoff window was closing quickly. On 2nd and 7 he threw a zip pass to Donald Parham over the middle for a first down, bracing himself for impact as Zach Allen, the Broncos’ 285 pound defensive end, came running at him. Their bodies got tangled up on the way down and somewhere in the fold his index finger got stuck as the rest of his body continued its descent to the turf. Something was off and he knew it but continued to play until the drive was over. The trainers looked him over on the sidelines and decided it would be best to take him back into the locker room for an x-ray.
Meanwhile, you had it been able to resist turning on the game, having watched everything unfold. But this time all you could do was sit in anticipation instead of going straight to the tunnel and speak with the staff. You’d been here before. You've seen this. He’d broken another finger just weeks earlier against Las Vegas but they’d just thrown a shit ton of tape on it and he went right back in. But this was his throwing hand, his money maker and admittedly, it had you worried. You opted to send him a quick text letting him know you hoped everything was okay, even if your gut was telling you it wasn’t.
Justin slammed his helmet down looking at the x-ray results and threw a hoodie on to head back out onto the field and cheer on his guys. The physical pain in his finger paled in comparison to how he was feeling mentally. He’s let down his teammates, his guys. The coaches. The fans. All these people that were counting on him were going to be disappointed. With four weeks left in the season he knew it was a long shot to try and play again. But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing everything in his power to try to be ready until the doctors gave him the official word that he couldn’t. After the game was over and he headed to the locker room to change, he shot you a text back that he was fine and headed to his post game presser.
You know that feeling when you don’t even remember going to sleep until you open your eyes and question your entire existence? Yeah that’s what was happening to you now. The knock on the door startled you out of a sleep you didn’t even mean to take and you sleepily stood up from your seat on Jade’s couch and opened the door.
The man on the other side of it had you thinking you might still be asleep. But there he really was, hand heavily taped and in a splint. At least his hair was finally dry. “I’m so sorry for coming by so late, is Jade asleep? Were you?”
“She’s out with some guy tonight and you’re fine. What are you doing here, what’s going on?”
You step aside to let him in and close the door behind him. “I lied to you earlier. And then I realized that I was making the same mistakes that got us in this mess so I got an Uber and wanted to finally be honest. With you.”
“Justin what are you—what do you mean?”
“I’m not fine,” he states with a shaky sigh. “I signed this big contract in the offseason and was on top of the world. This is my team, you know? I’m the guy. They trusted me with all this money and I don’t even know if I deserve it anymore. I let them down and now I’m not even sure I’ll get to play with these guys again this year. And I don’t even know why my first instinct is always to tell you that I’m okay. Maybe I’m trying to spare your feelings and not burden you with this ‘whoa is me’ attitude but I do want to tell you everything. I—I trust you with my life, I just haven’t been acting like it. You’re the only one I want to tell everything to and I haven’t been treating you like my partner and I’m sorry for letting it get this bad.”
You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before speaking. “Justin I need to tell you something and I need you to listen to everything I’m about to say.” He nods and waits for you to continue. “You. Deserve. Everything. Okay? I mean god this team is probably winless without you. You’ve willed them to be competitive ALL year and somehow along the way you’ve been convinced that this is your fault. It’s not you. You are NOT the problem. If anything babe, you’re the fucking standard. You set records, you are who everyone compares their quarterback to and you know why? Because you have rallied those guys and they believe in you. Your organization believes in you. I believe in you.”
“Thank you for saying that,” he whispers, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. “And I know I can’t erase the past or what I did but you’re everything I could ever want. Much more than I’ve ever asked for. And I fucked up the best thing I had. There isn’t a moment that I don’t think about it. Maybe…we could start over? Not forget any of the mistakes that were made along the way but learn from them. Clean slate, so I can earn your trust back.”
He waits for you to respond, the silence quickly killing his confidence. Maybe he really had lost you for good. You look down at the floor in sadness, still unsure about if this one conversation was enough to change the course of your relationship. Justin doesn’t wait any longer, kissing you on the forehead and walking out the front door. The quarterback sat in the Uber with a heavy sigh, trying to come to terms with the chaos of his professional and personal life. A few hours later when he couldn’t sleep in anticipation of his doctor’s appointment in a few hours, there was a knock at the door.
“I’m so sorry to bother you this late but I just couldn’t shake this feeling that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Oh I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, I’m y/n.”
Justin’s smile takes over his face, dimple in full display. “It’s nice to meet you y/n, I’m Justin.”
Maybe, just maybe…what started with the worst birthday of your life could be a really funny story to tell your grandkids someday.
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msookyspooky · 4 months
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Fours a Franchise
Part 12
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Wordcount: 8,567
Omfg I got the flu for a week, had a family fued that lasted months between my aunt and...EVERYONE. But thankfully my younger cousin I'm super close to is living with her Dad/My Uncle now after months of this bs so finally there's peace, then in-between this fued and my cousin moving out I got covid and ong I have been foggy headed for 2 weeks afterwards I'm just starting to feel like my normal self again....THEN Wattpad kicked me out of my account. From September till now has been an out of body experience in a bad way 🙃
So thank you all for your support and patience I appreciate it 🖤 but I am so done wracking my brain over this chapter so we're just winging it rn bc I want to write and get past this hump to finish this story then start on 5. So if I missed info or a typo or misplaced lore from previous books *No I did not*~
Annnnddd my motivation with recent Scream news.
The news of Scream 7 is so disheartening and screwed up with Sam and Tara's actresses. So I cannot promise I'm writing till 6 or 7 not only because I'm losing my hyper fixation for Scream after these 2 years but no Tara, Sam, Sidney and most likely no Stu because Matthew is a real one and wouldn't come back after how they treated Neve and Melissa so like? What's the point? This book and 5 I am for sure doing because Billy meeting Sam is a huge writing motive for me. 6 is iffy but 7? I am not. Not only do I not have the motivation to write that much more for this story but it's pointless with so much of Scream being written like bad fanfiction the last 2 installments...Hell, I could do that! But I won't because I probably won't even watch Scream 7 if they make it. The Studio has screwed over Neve and Melissa in ways that I really don't want to support.
Anyways, thank you for the patience. I appreciate all of you! ♡♡♡♡
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   Ghostface grabbed your ankle and you hit the stairs. Hard. But the second they went to stab you, you kicked them as hard as you could in the knee sending them flying back and tumbling down the stairs. 
Jill grabbed your arm. "Come on, YN!" As you both bolted for Kirby's room…Kirby had gotten separated during the chase and you didn't know where she was. 
Jill locked the door and told you. "The balcony!"
"There's no other way out?" 
"You can jump, maybe, I don't know." Jill rushed out past her lips as she got away from the door. 
You breathed hard, looking down at the drop off from the second story. You couldn't think long as the door frame started bending; the wood splintering with each bang from the killer trying to break it down. 
"That's two stories." You looked at her trying to form a plan. "...Get under the bed." 
Jill looked confused, "Wha-" 
"Just do as I say." You harshly whispered. "Get under the bed and don't make a sound or come out until I get you, okay? Trust me!…Go!" 
You watched her go to crawl under Kirby's bed as you climbed over the railing.
Jill hid under the bed as you heard the door to Kirby's room finally break and the killer come inside. Slowly walking past Kirby's bed...
You made a gasp as you almost fell.
Ghostface darted out onto the balcony to see you descend onto the porch roof. You rushed down around the corner of the home and looked back to see Ghostface on the roof too. Staring at you through that mask before disappearing. You figured back inside to look for the others because you looked back around the corner to see they were gone.
You quickly used the opportunity to get your cellphone.
You faltered just a second...You didn't trust to call police because you did not trust Judy. You didn't care if she was out in the open when Jill's mother was killed. Partners. Besides, you did not have a good track record of using your one phone call for cops and either they don't show up, show up too late, or show up and make things worse with the killer. But you still had to call someone. Randy dead, Gale injured, maybe Dewey? Maybe just risk 911-
You heard a noise and out of reflex you accidently pushed a button on speed dial that you hissed a curse at. Too late, they picked up the phone as you frantically tried windiws.
As soon as it picked up you rushed out, "The killer's here at Kirby's! I need your help. 329 whispering lane-" 
You yelled as you rounded the corner to try a window you saw was cracked open just for the killer to jump out at you. You gasped and stepped back as they tried to slash you with the knife as you dropped the phone on the roof and lost your footing. Tumbling off the roof before barely catching yourself on the gutter. Your fingers and hands burned painfully from the impact as well as trying to hang onto the thin uncomfortable metal with your body weight. The hand you injured from the knife stab a decade ago hurt the worst. Tingling and burning as you desperately tried to hang on. 
You gasped looking up to see a knife and mask. The knife narrowly missed your hand as you let go and let yourself fall harshly onto the ground. Tumbling painfully before laying there a second from the impact. Robbie no longer screamed…Only the smell of flesh and hair and plastic burning as his body provided some fucked up bonfire in the front yard that blazed overtop a pile of dead leaves...And of course this house was about like Stu's with hardly any neighbors. Should've seen that a mile away.
"Shit…" You grabbed the knife from your boot and bolted, forcing your legs to move even if they didn't want to. Running back into the house before yelping at someone grabbing you. You went to stab them before she said, "No, no, no, no! Sorry, It's me." 
You lowered the knife as you saw Kirby. She drew you to a corner of the kitchen to quietly talk. "Look, I tried to call 911 but the landlines dead and someone smashed the router...And my cellphone is missing. I-I don't know, I think I lost it while running I don't understand. "  
Your mind raced with that.
But…Did she actually call 911? Or was she lying? Where had she been? Why didn't she go with you and Jill? Did she actually try to call or did she mess with the landline and wifi in her own house?...
You didn't have time to talk as you both heard heavy footsteps upstairs and Kirby opened the basement door and rushed you in, "Oh god. Go, go, go, go, go!" She urged before following after you and locking the door as you both quickly got down the steps as she informed you. "There's a room down here we can lock ourselves in. I heard you yelling at Jill; is she okay? Did she get away?" 
You both made it to the room as you told her, "She's safe but where's the others? Trevor, Charlie?" 
Kirby breathed out shakily. "I don't know." 
You hissed through your teeth. "Did Trevor or anyone have a shoulder or arm wound? I shot Ghostface in the shoulder tonight before they escaped the barn." 
Kirby mumbled, "I don't think so." All before locking you both in the dark room…Suddenly, you both gasped and jumped at a banging noise. Nearly jumping out of your skin as you instinctively wielded your small knife. You held your knife tightly as you both saw a bloody Charlie banging desperately on the glass door leading to the backyard.
"Kirby! Please, let me in!" 
"Charlie?" Kirby breathed out, going to the door…Her eyes darted to his bloody hand and arm. 
He looked where her eyes traveled and he shook his head. "N-No! I got attacked! Please, let me in!..." He kept banging his bloody hand on the glass while fearfully looking around. "Please! There is someone else out here, let me in! They burnt Robbie!...Jesus Christ, Kirby, they set him ablaze in the yard!" 
You saw Kirby ponder and you told her firmly. Already having your hunch. "If you can't trust him; don't open the door…"
Kirby looked taken aback by that realization. 
Charlie looked outraged on the other side of the glass. "My God! Let me in!" He begged Kirby with fear raising his voice a few octaves. "I don't know who's doing this but it's not me! Please!" 
Kirby swallowed but with a tense look told him. "...Get away from the door, Charlie." 
"Kirby! It's me!" Charlie whimpered with desperate pleas. 
Kirby had tears in her eyes, voice strained as she ordered him. "Get away from the door, Charlie!" 
Charlie's bloody hand slid down the glass as he cried out, "It's me! P-Please, Kirby! It's meee-" He whined the last part in a desperate sob. 
Kirby shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as her voice cracked. And in the tiniest, crackling voice she told him. "...I'm sorry, I can't…" 
You saw the struggle on Kirby's face. Trust no one…This could be a set up to make you trust her completely. You just stood back away from the door or windows with your knife ready. Back against the wall. Nothing behind the wall. Trust no one.
Charlie stepped away from the door into the porch light's view. "What the fuck?!" He yelled in outrage and disbelief. 
Suddenly, Ghostface appeared behind him as Kirby screamed, "LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!!" 
Killer grabbing Charlie and banging his head into the glass right over the bloody handprint he left. Smearing blood on the glass before dragging him away into the dark…
You and Kirby looked taken aback, both staring helplessly…Then suddenly, whoever was doing this shut off the outside light. It was pitch black both outside and in the room now as your eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding you. Back against the wall as you swallowed hard and tried to get your mind in survival mode. 
And then…The lights turned on outside to see Charlie tied to a chair…So similar to the report of Steven Oarth's body found or that friend of the girl that worked for Randy. 
"Leave him alone!!" Kirby yelled, banging on the glass with teary eyes. "Damnit, leave him alone!" 
You stood back and watched in disbelief. Questioning everything. How did Charlie get tied up so easily? Was Kirby faking it? Where the hell is Jill? Where's Trevor? And now, you have no phone to call 911…It was on the roof…Then again, you called multiple times in 1996 that awful night and they didn't show up till a fire broke out...Apparently one body on fire in a leaf pile isn't enough. You felt cornered on your own here. The only thing driving you was to kill this Ghostface and find who they were. Honestly, at this point, in that order. Anyone dumb enough in this situation to run at you with that mask on deserved beat or stabbed and feel guilty about it later.
You saw Charlie bound and gagged in that chair. And you just stood in the darkness of the room helplessly watching. 
Kirby's phone rang. Charlie's contact as she answered. In the silence of the room, you could hear the Ghostface's voice on the line talk to Kirby. 
"Tell YN heads are gonna roll tonight! Tell YN this is all because of her! Or maybe she wants to take his place? I promise to be quick." 
You gritted your teeth hearing the sadistic excitement in their voice. Oh how much you wanted to yank that phone out of Kirby's hand and tell them to stop being a coward and come get you then…But you knew better. Instead, you whispered to Kirby, "Keep them talking." You knew it was most likely one of them or both of them…But it could be an outside influence, someone not necessarily in the group just like Neil was. 
Kirby tearily nodded as she sucked in a breath to keep Ghostface on the line as you snuck out of the dark room. 
—-------------------------------------
Kirby stood there as you left, shaking like a leaf. "Please, let him go." 
"I hear you like horror movies, Kirby. But do you like them as much as him?...Forget watching Stab. You get to live it!" 
Kirby's eyes widened, "No! Nononono, he's the expert, not me!" As she locked eyes with Charlie who struggled against his ties. 
"Warm up question: Jason's weapon?" 
Kirby fumbled at first in her fear stricken state. "Uuhhh, it's a machete." She released a small sniffle and touched her head.
"There, ya see? You do know the genre." The voice is entirely too sweet. Mocking her before snapping. "Michael Myers?!" 
"Uh, butcher knife." 
"Leatherface?!" 
"A Chainsaw! Please!" Kirby answered faster, desperate to save her friend as a small sob escaped her. 
"Just ask YN if you need some help. Freddy Krueger?!" 
"Uh, uh. Razor hands!" 
"Name the movie that started the Slasher craze. Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Last House on the Left, or Psycho?" 
"Psycho!" Kirby growled out through her teeth before the voice aggressively cut her off as Kirby kept pacing the doors window looking at Charlie. 
"NONE of the above! Peeping Tom 1960 directed by Michael Powe; first movie to ever put the audience in the killer's POV!" 
"Wha-" Kirby's breath caught in her throat as she clutched her head. "What? Please! Nononono, please just ask me one more question, just one more!" 
"...Alright Kirby. Then it's time for your last chance question …" The voice so sinister on the other line as Kirby softly cried to herself. "Name the remake of the groundbreaking horror movie in which the villain-" 
"Uh Halloween-" Kirby shook her head while frantically going over every horror remake she knew. "Texas Chainsaw, Dawn of the Dead, Hills have.. Eyes-" She scrunched her face forcing this out while trying to scrap her brain for every last straw she could grasp. "Uh Amityville horror, Last House on the Left, F-Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine, When a Stranger Calls, Prom Night, Black Christmas, House of Wax, The Fog, Uh…Uh Piranha!...It's one of those, right? Right?!" She demanded while staring out the window at Charlie. 
…The line went dead silent. Everything stopped as the line was quiet, no attacks, no taunts. 
"I was right?" Kirby gritted her teeth to go outside. "I was fucking right." 
She opened the door, looked around, before rushing to her bound friend. "Hold on Charlie." She removed his tape from his mouth as he gasped and groaned at the feeling. Kirby quickly worked on untying him as she spoke. "He tried to trick me but I fucking won!" She smiled a bit as she got his hands free. Looking cautiously around herself in the dark as she tried to get the tape undone on his wrists and ankles. She helped him up and told him, "It's gonna be okay! It's-" 
"Kirby." He said her name like it was a chore. "This is making a move." 
Kirby gasped as she felt searing pain…A knife Charlie had hidden plunging deep into her abdomen. She choked on tears and air…And her eyes darted to the blood on his white shirt that he claimed was from an attack by the killer…It shifted as he stabbed and she saw a bloody gauze thickly wrapped up where the blood had soaked through from earlier…From us shooting him in the barn…She remembered him acting odd, noticing him wincing a bit when he sat down earlier but she thought it was nerves from stress…My God…It really was Charlie. 
He killed his best friend Robbie. He stole Robbie's Dad's Crossbow. He stabbed Gale. He killed Randy Meeks…It was him.
Kirby's teary eyes looked at him desperately for an answer to the madness as she choked on her sobs of pain. He jerked it back out. 
"Four years of classes and now you notice me?! All those times at the video store that you could talk Randy's ear off about horror movies like he's a fucking Messiah of horror while ignoring me?! All those years of teasing and leading me on in the friendzone and now you care?!" He demanded with angry tears in his own eyes as Kirby gripped his shoulder in pain gasping for air with wide eyes. Charlie yelled before plunging it back in her again. "Stupid bitch! It's too late!!" 
Charlie gripped onto Kirby as her body went lax. Tears and choked whimpers escaping her as the pain felt like shocks coursing through her. 
Charlie shhed her as he held her in a soft voice, "Shh, shhh. I know, I know. It's okay, take your time…Doesn't happen as fast in real life as it does in the movies, I know." 
He smirked a bit as Kirby could do nothing but feel pain as the shock of all this slapped her in the face… 
"C-C-Charlie…" 
He brutally killed Olivia to look like Tatum's death. He hosted the party. He massacred Randy. Stabbed Gale. Set his so-called best friend on fire…Now? He was stabbing her to death and killing their entire friend group plus YN. 
"Just like Sidney Prescott …Shh…I bet she suffered in that house, huh? Stab had her die instantly but I bet she gasped in pain too when Billy plunged his knife in her." He softly told Kirby. 
He then whispered something in Kirby's ear that made her eyes widen…
Kirby choked out pained gasps before Charlie shook his head and shoved Kirby off his knife to let her lay on the ground. Taking gasping breaths like a fish out of water as a pool of blood.
Charlie looked close to crying and ran a hand through his long hair while he stalked back to the house. The night wasn't over. 
—--------------------------------------
You tried to look for Jill, Trevor, your phone but couldn't find any. You put your small knife back getting  a much bigger one off the counter…Kitchen knife in hand and backup knife in your boot.
You came downstairs, that front door still open as you rounded the corner.   Opening the door to the bottom level Kirby was at last…But stopped yourself from calling out to her. It was too quiet…You wanted this Ghostface dead or caught. Wanted to help these kids. But everything in you screamed get in the car and get away. 
You took a steadying breath and backed up the stairs a few steps. Knife in hand, eyes darting before someone grabbed you in a chokehold so tight you gagged as your knife clattered down the steps and you were jerked backwards.
Charlie's arm had you in a tight grip with his knife at your face. Blood staining his white shirt…And he seemed in pain with the arm he was holding you with. Blood on the shoulder you shot. 
…You knew it. 
He was pressed against a wall as he mumbled in your ear, “You know you learn a lot when you watch movies over and over. All the plots are about to ridicule you…Think you're gonna get away? Think anyone gets away?” His lips near your ear as you gritted your teeth and slammed him back against a wall. 
As soon as he hit the wall he let you go and you grabbed your knife from your boot as you went to run out the door. You were getting out. You were outnumbered now. Just until help got here. 
…But you got intercepted…When someone plunged a knife deep into your stomach.
You had been shot and stabbed but never in your gut like that. It knocked the wind from you, your body freezing up in pain as you fell back against the staircase wall. A choking gasp escaped your lips as you clutched your stomach. You went to slash at them, jolted by the pain you felt the second you moved your arm as it radiated down to your abdomen. Ghostface easily smacked that small knife out of your hand.
It clattered to the ground feet away and you felt all air leave your lungs.
The Ghostface came towards you, lowering their knife before taking off that damn mask you learned to resent…
Long dark hair cascaded out first followed by a fair complexion and a smirk on full pink lips…And your mouth dropped.
…Jill.
You shook your head. Shocked because she wasn't even on Randy's radar. And then your face soured as you realized this was just a decade ago all over again. Another one of Sidney's family is either jealous or wanting revenge.
“Hello, Yn…” She tilted her head with a smirk. “Surprised?” 
She got inside her mask to show a small camera. “See this? This is the part where the cameras…” It beeped as she held it up smugly. “Turn off.” 
“Good.” Was the only thing you heard before a man's hand jerked her by the head and slammed her forehead against the staircase railing as she screamed in pain and anger. Billy had a firm grip on her hair.
“Jill!” Charlie went to defend her before Stu grabbed him by the throat and jerked him back.
 “Where you goin’?” Stu taunted. Knife jerking back ready to stab Charlie repeatedly at a moment's notice. “After party's just starting man. Pretty lame if you ask me. Mine was a rager.” Stu jeered with an insane grin.
You couldn't help the relieved smile as you clutched your bleeding abdomen…They actually came back for you. They heard your call and came back.
The sound of a knife jerking out of a pocket sounded as Billy readied his hunting knife. Jill cursed and struggled. “Time to join the other idiots.” He murmured.
Stu grinned, “Hell yeah, man! Number one, baby! We'll always be the one-” 
Right when Billy went to plunge his knife into Jill's side she jerked with a scream as he barely got her…Before a gunshot ran out and you saw Stu jerk back with a shocked expression on his face.
Charlie pulled out a gun leveled it behind him shooting again as Stu got shot right in his rib area jerking back from it before Charlie went to shoot again and Stu tripped backwards over a spare chair landing through the glass sliding door with enough force to fall through it.
“Motherfucker!” Billy hissed out ready to slit Jill's throat and Charlie quickly pointed the gun at us; grabbed us by the back of the neck.
Damn…This has happened too many times before.
“Let her go…Or YN dies.” Charlie mumbled, nervously licking at his lips as he fidgeted with you in his grip. You went to struggle, trying to elbow him and Charlie shoved it to your temple as you groaned in pain.
Billy really considered…He glared, Jill still in his grasp. Until Jill stabbed him in the leg. He yelled, accidentally letting her go as he clutched his thigh.
Charlie jerked you into the kitchen as Jill hissed, seeing a bit of blood where Billy barely stabbed her side before she kicked him to follow Charlie and You. “Move, asshole!” 
Billy growled in his throat as he readied his knife to stab the ever loving hell outta her before Charlie pointed his gun at him while still having a painful grip on you. “You heard her.”
Billy looked ready to take the risk, not one to back down but hearing Stu groaning in pain among the shattered pieces of glass on the porch and you yelping when Charlie shoved you with too much force into the counter. Right where your stab wound was…He relented. 
Walking as Jill told him. “Give me the knife.” 
“Bite me, bitch.” Billy scoffed. 
Charlie threatened with the gun again. “Come on, what's a knife gonna do with a gun anyways? Try to think.” 
Billy scowled before dropping the knife.
Jill smirked. “Not totally stupid. Now walk.” She ordered shoving him as Billy dragged himself forward with her knife leveled at him and her pocketing his for now. 
Jill called out Charlie's name as he forced Billy to stand beside you near the kitchen counter. “Already taken care of.” Charlie told her while shutting doors and she stood near you both with the knife. 
“Get that other douchebag for the line up.” She ordered.
Charlie went to Stu dragging him through glass by his ankles as Stu groaned in pain, teeth clenched. His shirt too dark and bloody to tell where he was shot before Charlie heaved him with a groan and shoved him up to stand. Then shoving him near the counter as Stu tried to swing on him and missed. Just hissing in pain as he caught himself next to Billy, and to your surprise, Billy instinctively reached out to steady him.
Charlie blew air past his lips with a smirk and showed a camera from his pocket. “Damn, he's a big boy, huh Jill?…And guess what? I got great footage of my Robbie kill. Better than Marnie or Olivia even.” 
“Good. We'll cut and upload it later to make it all traceable to Trevor.” Jill replied with the knife near your face.
You panted in pain while Billy stood near you leaning on the counter. His dark eyes scanning the room for any way to get leverage. Stu gripped the counter, sweating but looking murderously at both teens holding you all hostage right now.
If Charlie didn't have that gun? This would've been over with both of them dead. If YOU had your goddamn gun this could've been over before Billy and Stu even got here!
You stared at Jill, seething once the shock wore off realizing the last few days you and Randy were so nice to her; you were talking to the killer all along. Her and Charlie didn't seem to recognize Billy and Stu or if they did they weren't saying.
“Speaking of which-” Charlie opened the doors to the closet and dragged out Trevor who he threw on the ground bound and gagged with tape.
“Remind you of anything?” Charlie retorted towards you.
Yeah, did it ever. Only this time Billy and Stu were just as much victims as you were.
Charlie ripped the tape off as Trevor begged, “Jill pleas-” 
“Shut up!” She cut him off with a yell as she stripped herself of the Ghostface robe.
Charlie got closer towards you, blood on him. “See everything I learned I learned from you.” 
Stu shoved him away. “Get the fuck away from her, man.” He growled out in pain but this was a man that took so many stabbings when younger and still attacked you and flipped you both over a couch. 
Charlie scoffed but he knew who had the power right now as he smirked. But…He looked at Stu longer. Almost trying to connect the dots. 
Jill brought Charlie back as she mumbled, “Who are these guys anyways? Don't tell me they're your side pieces or something.” Jill jeered with a malicious smirk as you all said nothing. “You think my cousin Sidney had a shitty boyfriend, YN!? Here's one that fucks you, dumps you…And doesn't even make you famous.” She gave a wry smirk before kicking Trevor in his shoulder as he cried out.
Billy's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at hearing Jill was his old girlfriend's cousin. You could tell he wanted to kill her that much more. 
Trevor cried out, “The fuck, Jill!? I loved you!” 
Jill rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck UP already!” Before kicking him multiple times as he yelled out in pain each blow.
Stu mumbled to Billy and you, “Mean ass girl, isn't she?” Sarcastically while he huffed and held his side in pain.
Billy asked, "How you holding up?"
"By my last bit of skin, man...Fuck. He got me in the side and lower belly." Stu huffed out in a wince.
"Fuck." Billy scoffed. "...You know what to do still?
Stu smirked, "Yeah..."
Charlie gave the gun to Jill, “I'm sure the cops would want you to have this, Jill. For your protection.” 
The second that gun wasn't aimed, Billy and Stu tried to charge Charlie for it. Their street smarts and instincts ready to attack in pain or not but before they could Jill stabbed you in the gut again and the most strangled cry escaped you. It hurt your throat to scream with such a primal pain and it instantly made Billy and Stu falter just enough for Charlie to aim the gun at them.
You cried, tears in your eyes at that god awful pain as you clutched your lower gut. 
Jill glared, “Do that shit again and I'll stab her in the throat.” She tilted her head. “Who are you anyways? Shouldn't you both be dead?” 
Billy and Stu had no choice but to back off. And when Jill said that…Charlie's entire demeanor changed. 
“Oh my God…No way…I-I thought you looked familiar but-” Charlie drew out like some star struck fan.
Jill's eyes widened too before she laughed loudly. “Shut the fuck up!...No way, Gale was right? Gale Weather's was actually right about you, YN!?” 
You sniffed back tears, gritting your teeth in contempt but not answering her. 
Charlie pointed the gun to each of them. “Bill Loomis…And Stu Macher. It's such a privilege to meet you two in the flesh!” 
Billy sneered at him, “Great, another dick rider.” He grumbled under his breath. 
Jill chuckled, “I can't believe it.” As even Trevor looked flabbergasted from the floor. “Wow, YN…Little Miss American Sweetheart is actually a treacherous lying snake. I mean, hiding two of the famous Woodsboro killers under everyone's nose and ruining Gale Weather's career over it?...Under different circumstances I'd applaud you.” 
Charlie looked momentarily freaked out. “Jill…Jill, what are we gonna do I mean…This changes our plans! I-” 
Jill took his gun. “Shhhh.” She softly told him in a way to calm him down. “It'll still work, Baby. Remember? I'm YN and you're Randy…Now, Trevor doesn't have to be Billy. We can work with this. I mean, who is going to question who the killers were with Billy and Stu here?” 
Charlie's breath hitched as he forced a smile. “And this time, Randy gets the girl.” 
She kissed him. Looking at you with the gun pointed the entire time.
Stu and Billy sneered. And the idea hit you. Charlie…Charlie you shot Charlie in the barn. He wants to be the ‘new Randy’...He was jealous and killed Randy because Randy got Kirby's attention, Randy was the movie expert, Randy was a cool nerd in school unlike Charlie. 
You shook your head in disgust. “You'll never be Randy…Do you hear me? He was better than you in every fucking way!” You forced out through tears and clenched teeth. They stopped kissing as you practically snarled at Jill. “And you will never be me! You're nothing but a jealous attention seeking litt-” 
You cried out as she pistol whipped you upside the face hard enough to jerk your head and taste blood in your mouth. Billy and Stu had to stop themselves from lunging at her, remembering the gun.
Jill looked at you with a glare as you coughed and wiped blood off your lip. Swearing she just knocked out a tooth. 
“Don't you get it? You're old news.” She gave plainly. 
You stood back up, blood on the corner of your lip as you tiredly clutched your stomach.
Trevor cried out from on the floor, “Jill, baby! Please, this isn't you!” 
Jill gave him a bored look. Leveling the gun at him and holding the knife towards you. You swore she was gonna shoot him but instead…She looked at Charlie.
“Charlie…Ya know, now with us being able to pin this on thee Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…Trevor's role can change. We don't need another Billy or Stu…But we need a James. I mean, every final girl needs some fucked up shit to happen to her like her boyfriend being mutilated. Media will eat that up.” 
Your eyes widened and you shook your head. 
Charlie even faltered a moment. 
Jill glared at him. “Do not chicken out on me now, Charlie!” 
Charlie just shook his head swallowing. “Not chickening out…Just gotta make sure we film this. Are we good on time?” He started putting the Ghostface outfit back on.
Jill smiled, “Oh yeah, we're perfect.” 
Trevor looked terrified and so did you as Charlie quickly threw Jill's outfit on, getting the mask off the counter and turned the inner camera on. He dropped down to Trevor and slid the knife threatenly over his neck. 
“D-Don't!” You begged on deaf ears as Trevor gave a blood curdling scream as Charlie started doing what Billy and Stu did to your boyfriend back in 1996 in that field. Billy and Stu seemed both unfazed or annoyed at best while you closed your eyes and covered your ears screaming over Trevor, “STOP IT!!” 
The sounds of him screaming in pain, flesh being ripped as Charlie pulled while sawing, the smell of blood. You felt ready to scream yourself as Billy to your shock drew you near with a hand on your shoulder protectively so you didn't do something stupid like lash out. Him and Stu watched the whole time. While this was the one traumatic thing that happened to you indirectly that you thankfully didn't see even if James was a shitty boyfriend. You closed your eyes and Billy had a death grip on you. You felt sick whether from bloodlose or this was debatable.
You shakily looked when the screams died down and wished you hadn't. Seeing Trevor bloody and half his face skinned off as he seemed to tremble and writhe as his body went into shock from the pain. You wanted to pass out or throw up and knowing Billy and Stu gleefully did this that night while calling you and…And hearing James sobbing and begging you to help him.
Billy's grip tightened on your shoulder as if he knew. His eyes narrowed. Stu tried inching towards a door and Jill shot the gun near the door as everyone flinched or ducked.
She said nothing, not wanting her voice on camera. As Charlie peeled his face the rest of the way off then stabbed him from sternum to groin as he choked and jerked and spasmed in pain on the floor.
And Jill just numbly watched…Watched a boy that loved her get this done to him.
Charlie took off the mask and shut off the camera with a bewildered smirk. “Holy shit…That was awesome.” He held up Trevor's face. “Hey, YN; wanna reenact TCM 2?” And tried to threatenly put Trevor's face on yours as you instinctively hid in Billy's chest. Trying to face away with an uncharacteristic whimper at what you were just forced to see. Like you were a scared teen girl all over again.
“I will staple that face to yours if you even try it! It'll be one hell of an improvement!” Stu jeered and weakly shoved him back as Billy put an arm over you.
 However, Billy gripped you and forced you to turn around. You knew it was his way of silently telling you to be strong and you forced yourself to not look at Trevor or the face in Charlie's hand and instead glared at Jill. Feeling weak with blood loss and yet you had so much hate for her. 
Jill smiled, “Now THAT is going to get views.” She looked at you. “See with you the world just heard about what happened but with us…They're gonna see it. It's gonna be a worldwide sensation. I mean, people gotta see this shit!” Jill chuckled. “It's not like anyone reads anymore.” 
Charlie took off the glove and showed you guys a video of…Of Randy being killed. Of him on the ground backpedaling with an arrow in him. All alone in the dark. 
“No please! Don't-” He got cut off choking in pain as he was stabbed repeatedly. “D-Don't hurt them…Don't hurt my kids and wife…D-D-Don't hurt YN…Please-” He pleaded with blood near his mouth before screaming in pain again as Charlie stabbed him repeatedly and the video cut off…To a close up of him hanging…Still twitching barely alive as he hung there…Guts out.
Tears welled in your eyes as your breathing got shallow. You were trembling with so much rage and mind shattering devastation. Seeing your best friend in his final moments tonight in pain begging for his life…For yours even after your argument. Even after everything he didn't hate you.
“...I'm gonna kill you…You goddamn pieces of shit…” You forced out shakily through your teeth as tears rolled down your cheeks. “I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Billy and Stu had to jerk you back, Billy the least injured having you in almost a headlock before you got shot. 
Jill laughed, “God, you are so dramatic! So that goody two shoes love and peace for all; is that some PR move or-” She mocked as Billy jerked you and you were trying to fight him even in ungodly pain to get to her or Charlie.
“Stop! Now!” Billy ordered in your ear. “...We'll get them…” He reassured while still holding you back as you stopped struggling and glared daggers at them both tears rolling down your face.
Charlie informed you. “Stole Robbie's Dad's crossbow. I mean that guy on Walking Dead just gave me major ideas and Robbie also…Lured Randy back to the party by recording you and Kirby. Poor kid had no idea he was helping me get Randy tonight. Jill took care of things at her house and Kirby's phone.” 
You could only glare at him.
Jill told you. “We're gonna have fame you never even dreamed of.” 
Charlie looked at Jill in adoration. “You were the perfect victim, Jill.” 
Jill laughed like a teen girl getting away with sneaking out past curfew while Trevor bled out on the floor. “I was SO believable today, wasn't I? I mean, I told so many lies that I actually started to believe them…I really think that I was born for this.” 
Stu huffed, looking tired and woozy himself. “Congratulations.” He sarcastically monotoned. 
You got away from Billy as he let you go and you demanded weakly, “How could you do this?...Sidney-” 
“Shut up!” Jill demanded, her smiling dropping. “Do you even know what it was like in this family being related to Sidney Prescott?! Sidney this and Sidney that and Sidney, Sidney, Sidney! She was always just SO FUCKING SPECIAL!” She screeched.  “And then you…” She pointed the knife at you. “I hated you just as much. What? You survive bad luck and get all this attention? Big house somewhere, never have to work, all these interviews and book deals because your life was hard?...You had your 15 minutes of fame NOW I WANT MINE!” She yelled.
Billy groaned as Stu tiredly mumbled to him. “Told you. Fame. You owe me 50 bucks.” 
You ignored them and stared at her, shaking your head mumbling. “You'll slip. They always do.” 
Jill gave a wry smirk, looking back at Billy and Stu who technically did get away with it before saying, “Come on Charlie, let's get this over with.” 
Stu was losing a lot of blood and so were you as you both gripped the counters and Billy wasn't able to run. You all were pretty much sitting ducks right now.
Charlie handed Jill the knife. He started breathing puffs of air out of his mouth, bouncing on his feet as Jill told him loudly, “You've gotta be strong…And hold still! Okay?” 
He nervously breathed, “Old School, like Billy and Stu.” 
Billy made a face and Stu despite his condition let out a mocking laugh. Billy added over Stu's laughter, “That's right, real deep too. Don't be pussies now in front of your idols-”  
Charlie closed his eyes saying “Come on, get it up-” Before slapping himself across the face multiple times.
Stu laughed silently hanging his head and leaning on the counter for support.
You stood there thinking you felt like you were in a Twilight Zone right now or a damn insane asylum from back in the day while Stu and Billy had sadistic grins on their faces eager to see some ‘fan’ that gave them injuries get stabbed.
Charlie smacked his shoulder shakily yelling at Jill, “Shoulder me, shoulder me! Come on! GET IT UP-” 
You gasped with a slight satisfaction yourself when Jill plunged the knife right into his chest. Billy went from watching with interest to smirking with a dark look in his eye and Stu through his sweat and pain grinned ear to ear.
Charlie choked a gasp, holding his bleeding chest. “The heart?!- T-That's not how we rehearsed it!” 
You finally spoke with an edge to your voice. “You said it. Billy and Stu…If Trevor became James. And Robbie was supposed to be Stu…” 
Jill smirked to herself seeing it dawn on Charlie. She told him, “I know it's going against the script…But this is a franchise. Not a remake. And what the media loves is a sole survivor.” She whispered cruelly. “Robbie was your partner. Both of you jealous little outcasts but you…You were the idea man.” 
She plunged the knife in again as Charlie gasped harshly falling to his knees. Hyperventilating as he bled. Shock written all over his face before collapsing in a pathetic heap on the ground. 
You didn't care if it made you a monster too…There was some satisfaction. Especially when you remembered what he showed you on that phone. “You'll never be Randy, Charlie.” Was the last thing you said as Stu almost gave a little hollar of glee and Billy chuckled under his breath watching Charlie be betrayed and now only seconds from dying.
You glanced at Jill holding your stomach and like Stu things were getting blurry for you. “So…You killed all your friends…Now what?” You asked the bigger picture of what happens when all this is said and done.
Jill glared at you. “My Friends?” 
She walked up to you and Billy and Stu tensed up a bit. It was 3 against 1. 2 grown men, a grown woman and one teen girl…Problem was 1 grown man looked ready to pass out, the grown woman wasn't far behind him, the other grown man had a fucked up leg now that couldn't move as fast and the little teen bitch from hell still had the gun.
“What world are you living in? I don't need friends, I need fans ….DON'T YOU GET IT!?” She snapped at you. “This has never been about killing you…This is about becoming you. I mean for fucksake all my friends and boyfriend had to die.” 
“And your mother?” You asked, trying to be brave but staring crazy in the face again after so long…Worked on your mind.
“Collateral damage.” She mused with nothing in her dark eyes…Just nothing. “That's sick right? Well, sick is the new sane.” She whispered with a small smile eyeing you.
Even Billy and Stu didn't kill their own parents.
“You had your 15 minutes now I WANT MINE!” She yelled in your face. “I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to college, grad school, work? Look around. We're all in the public eye now, we're all on the internet…How do you think people become famous anymore!? You don't have to achieve ANYTHING!” She gestured to you. “You just gotta have fucked up shit happen to you.” 
You stared at her in shock at her logic of wanting to be you. To have your life. To want to be the victim, to want to have people whisper about you or treat you horribly or treat you like glass. To have a target on your back forever.
All of this…ALL of this pain…Because some brat wanted attention and to get by easy in life?
Billy and Stu looked just as bewildered as you. Stu finally gave a humorously dry chuckle while trying to breathe, still holding his wounds. “I mean…Okay idea but-” 
She instantly shot him.
You froze as Stu got shot somewhere in the abdomen and went flying back. Billy went to lunge at Jill and got shot as well. He growled in pain and hit the counter. Wincing and slipping on his bloody palms trying to keep himself up. Stu laid limply and you tried not to hyperventilate at how messed up this was becoming because of one damn girl. Stu groaned on the ground coughing as he weakly held himself.
Jill laughed, “I WAS going to kill you all and blame Charlie and Trevor or Charlie and Robbie but now?...No…I think it doesn't matter if these two idiots live. Great! Because no one will question it. NO ONE. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher survived? They clearly did this and almost killed a poor innocent girl after slaughtering her friends.” 
You shook your head with fearful tears in your eyes. Billy glared daggers at her sneering, “You dumb little fuck…You think I'm going down after 15 years?!” He grabbed a kitchen knife and took the risk of throwing it. 
It went right into the arm that held the gun as she screamed and he instantly with his adrenaline pumping tried to grab it…You went for it too this time to help him instead of the other few times.
You gasped as a sharp painful cry escaped him…Jill stabbed him in the abdomen and jerked sideways. 
“Billy!-” You went to attack her too, hoping for an opening. ANYTHING! You were gonna die and-
She jerked the knife out of her arm with an almost enraged scream and stabbed you when you least expected it. She made it look like you had an opening to grab that gun and maybe you did? But her determination was just that much stronger.
She plunged the knife deep into you as you saw Billy had tried to get up multiple times and kept slipping while trying to hold his own wound close and slumped down gasping for air…Stu wasn't moving from what you could see…And you just got stabbed again. Deep. Blood spurted over your hand. This felt higher than before.
“Sorry, there's only room for one final girl and let's face it…Your time's up.” She looked so pleased with herself. So giddy as you collapsed onto your stomach.
You laid there trembling, barely breathing with your eyes wide open in fear. You heard footsteps seeing Jill walking away.
Billy looked just as bad but your eyes locked with each other on the kitchen floor. “B-B-Bill-” You couldn't even get his name out.
He shhed you. Cringing and as quietly as he could gritted his teeth to drag himself over to you as Jill started going ahead and hurting herself…Absolutely trying to kill herself by stabbing you hitting her head on a glass picture frame while yelling in pain. Trying to make it all look like she was brutally attacked.
Billy shhed you again when tears started falling from your eyes…After so long of being numb…You didn't wanna die. 
“I'm…I'm scared…Billy-” You just admitted it. Trembling like a scared child while bleeding out on the ground. Things were getting harder to focus on as he laid next to you on his back to keep his guts from pressing against the gash. 
You never thought you'd ever give him the satisfaction. Not at that shed, not in your house, not in the closet, Stu's house, Windsor, the motel- Never thought you'd give him the satisfaction of admitting you were scared of dying but you were.
Your hand trembled uncontrollably and he shhed you again. Weakly telling you, “Hey…Shh…It's alright…Don't cry, she'll hear you. If she stabs us in the head or throat or heart we're done, kid.” 
You shook your head trying not to sob as your head felt like you were gonna faint. 
“You're tough. Okay?...You can do this…You've always been a tough bitch to beat…I should know…Don't let that brat win. Don't let me or Stu win either…” He told you with heavy tired eyes. His head lolling to the side to gaze at you. Both of you held eye contact before he reached out and so did you.
“Billy…I-...I never meant…I always wanted-” You knew what you wanted to say but…Getting it out.
He stopped you with another soft shh and held your hand. He held it tight. His own fear of dying present but his urge to put on a brave face for his ego…For you too; was stronger. It's like he knew what you meant and he released a soft breath of air as if a giant weight was off his shoulders.
“Mine…” He mumbled with a small tired smile. “You've always been mine…” And then his eyes just…Closed.
Mark entered your mind and you couldn't control the small whimper as you trembled Jill crashing into things in the background.
“...Billy?” You whispered. Trying to move but couldn't as you held his hand so tight it hurt. “Billy, wake up. Please…” You whimpered as you were so tired…So so tired.
The last thing you saw was black…And glass shattering as Jill threw herself on the coffee table…And then sirens outside.
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wen-kexing-apologist · 3 months
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Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus
Hello! After a holiday hiatus, I am returning to @bengiyo's queer cinema syllabus. We will be ringing in the new year with Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley, the totally light-hearted, definitely not agonizing section of the syllabus where I get to watch countless acts of violence be committed against queer people. That fuck I have Lesbians waiting for me at the end of this unit. The films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004) [cannot for the life of me find this film], Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the SIde (1995)
Today I will be writing about 
Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee
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[Run Time: 2h 14 min, Lang: English] 
Summary: “Ennis and Jack are two shepherds who develop a sexual and emotional relationship. Their relationship becomes complicated when both of them get married to their respective girlfriends.” -imdb
Cast: * Jake Gyllenhaal as Jack Twist *Heath Ledger as Ennis del Mar (Rest in Peace)
__
Okay, so unsurprisingly Brokeback Mountain is one of seven of the movies on this syllabus that I had seen before I embarked on this project. I watched it for the first time in 2021 and walked away from it with two images in my head: Jack and Ennis’ reunion kiss and Jack getting his face bashed in with a tire iron. This film is in Heartbreak Alley for a reason and that’s because it is fundamentally depressing as fuck. Jack and Ennis are stuck in unhappy marriages, lonely all their lives, struggling to carve desire out of a life that does not let them have it. Ennis ends up alone, and Jack ends up dead and these things are important. Ennis slipped out of his role as attentive father and doting husband the second Jack walked back in to his life, Jack kept breaking his own heart by daring to dream of the life that he wanted. 
A life he was denied. 
I want to mention these tragedies up front because I want primarily to talk about something else in this film. But i do not want to just push past the violence here. This is probably something other people have heard, it was definitely something I was told by the person who recommended this film to me the first time. But the way Jack dies, the way Earl dies, these are both similar to the way that Matthew Shepard died. Matthew Shepard was kidnapped, pistol whipped, tortured, and tied to a fence in Wyoming for being gay and was so brutally beaten his entire face was covered in blood. Jack was beaten to death with a tire iron on the side of the road, Earl was brutally tortured and left in a ditch. These men are not just killed, but brutally, violently, torturously murdered for being queer. 
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That said, this movie felt so different to me the second time I watched it and I am so amazed to see how much I truly missed my first time around. I was younger, freshly queer, and did not have anywhere close to the extensive queer media viewing history I do now. It is wild to me to see how I have grown in my engagement with media after spending a year writing about body language. Because this film is so fucking brilliant, like legitimately intelligently crafted in it’s displays of gay politics. Maybe this is stuff that I picked up on subconsciously the first time through because I never found the movie boring despite it being rather slow. But this time? My brain was buzzing at how expertly crafted the dialogue and body language was around trying to be safe while being queer. 
I am thinking of the way that Jack sizes Ennis up at the beginning, Jack’s posture as he leans against his truck the first time they meet. I’m thinking about the line “Mr. Augirre’s got no right making us do something against the rules” when you consider that queerness is very much against the rules at that time and in that place. The way Ennis refuses to let Jack be gentle with him at first, tending his own wounds, staying distant and quiet, until he doesn’t.
Maybe it’s just because of how much I’ve watched The Sign drift further away from the hyper-masculinity aspect of their story, but I could not stop thinking about the delicate dance that is required to navigate the growing feelings and sexual relationship between these two extremely masculine men. I started looking and I think there are about three times in the entire movie where Jack and Ennis are soft with each other. The first is on Brokeback the second time they have sex, and Ennis is struggling and just rests his head on Jack’s chest before going in for a kiss. The second is when they are cuddling in bed at the motel after their first reunion. The third is the scene after Ennis tells Jack he won’t be able to see him again until November. That’s it. Otherwise they aren’t touching, or when they are touching they are rough, rough housing, rough kissing, rough fucking it doesn’t matter. 
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Ennis says he isn’t queer and Jack says he’s not either, but they fuck and then they are drawn to one another for the rest of their lives, because there is no one who could get it like they do. Ennis isn’t lying when he tells Jack that is the most he’s spoken in a year. Ennis is a lonely man. Ennis is a rural, hyper-masculine rancher he does not have emotions, not anymore, if he ever did. Whatever conscious or subconscious queerness he had undoubtedly shriveled and died the day he was shown Earl’s body. And that, I think, is part of why Ennis is just constantly drawn to Jack, why his face lights up when he sees Jack, why he throws such caution to the wind upon their first reunion. 
Ennis does not need words for Jack to understand him. Jack is also a rural, hyper-masculine rancher. He gets it in a way that Alma never will. The violence they bestow upon each other, Jack understands why Ennis would lash out. The need to escape in to the mountains, Hack understands why Ennis needs it. It’s just so smartly written. Ennis so unmoored from his own feelings that his body physically rejects them when he and Jack separate for the first time. The way he has to suck it in, suck it up, pretend like he’s unfazed, unaffected, until the minute he has a chance to be out of eyesight, and then he just collapses retching, sobbing, punching walls. 
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And then he’s able to separate himself from his emotions once more, he marries Alma, he stays lonely, he does his duties, until Jack comes calling. I think I remember a story about how the first kiss that Heath and Jake have when Ennis and Jack are reunited, their faces slammed together so hard one of them almost broke a nose. And that is how 90% of Ennis and Jack’s relationship is. Those emotions come back and then Jack is leaving again, and Ennis just starts to crumble. 
I could not stop thinking about the dialogue in this film Mr. Aguirre’s carefully chosen words when he is telling Jack exactly why he isn’t hiring him for another season, the way Jack tries to suss out if the man sitting next to him at the bar after the rodeo is queer and down to fuck, how that man picks up on it, rejects him, and how quickly Jack gets the fuck out of the bar afterwards. The inherent understanding of what being invited to the cabin means in that conversation with David Harbor’s character. GOD, it’s just so well done. 
Favorite Moment 
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To continue on the subject of incredible code work in this movie, my favorite scene is when Ennis goes to visit Jack’s parents to try to get Jack’s ashes so he can spread them on Brokeback Mountain. How without ever saying anything directly, Jack’s parents are able to convey that they know the reason Jack died, what Jack and Ennis were to each other, and that they accept Jack and accept Ennis was just beautiful. The way she lets Ennis go up to Jack’s room, Ennis finding the shirts, stained with blood because that’s what it is to be queer, Jack’s mother letting Ennis take those with him, Jack’s father saying: “We’ve got a family plot. He’s going in it.” as Ennis is about to walk out the door, Jack’s mother saying: “You come back and see us again” and not have either of those things feel like a threat or a trap? It was incredible. 
Favorite Quote
Hmm, I know we have the two famous quotes, but it’s hard to pick a favorite line because there is so little dialogue in this film considering it is over two hours long. I think I am going to go with the last line of the movie:
“Jack, I swear”
Cause it made me cry. Alma Junior pays a visit to her father to let him know she’s getting married, and she drives away forgetting her coat, and Ennis opens his closet (intense staring at the visual commentary) and he buttons the top button of Jack’s shirt, and he swears to Jack and to me that feels like a wedding vow. 
Score 
10/10 This film is gorgeous, just utterly beautiful all around. The cinematography, the script, the commitment and the care the actors give to these characters, to the subject. I am so glad this was on the syllabus so I had this opportunity to revisit this film. I got a whole lot more out of it as a result.
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ewanmitchelll · 3 months
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Imagine Taylor Swift’s Songs (XX): No Body No Crime.
Imagine you uncover Aemond Targaryen’s crimes… until you fall in his trap.
Warnings: smut, incest, drama, fluffy endings.
***
• He did it. He did it…
You enjoy more than what’s appropriate how he indecently holds you, like an unprotected boy who needs assurance of firm, truthful affections. Your body is warmer when his strong arms snake around your waist, unintentionally brushing against your nipples underneath your nightgown.
You wish you did not feel it. It’s sinful, notwithstanding this is an old practice in your family. However, under the sphere of influence of your mother makes you feel repulse at it. Or it’s what you tell yourself since the repulse is only because he doesn’t see you the way you might.
That night you cannot breathe. His breath is hot against your neck, you hear his snore, and you wish you were as pure as your elder sister Helaena. But it appears your innocence exists only on the outside.
As Aemond presses his body on you, your thoughts drift at an alternative universe where he would kiss your neck and explore your nipples with his hands… whispering things you’ve only heard doing with his…whore.
You grumble under your breath, turning subtly and in quiet riot on him. Then the fire dragon dies subsequently at the sweet face your eyes scan, that face whose features conceal an alluring darkness that draws you to him.
Your twin. Your other half, your partner, whose soul is linked to yours for reasons unknown. As you watch him sleep, with no eye-patch to his away his scar, you read through him.
You know why he comes at you instead of her and this gives you small percentages of pleasure, a deliciously tasted illusion upon which the desires of your heart drink to.
As you pull away discreetly the few silver locks that fall on his face, you mumble, lips barely touching:
“Must you always beseech war, my prince?”
And you feel tempted to add that in you he finds peace, but you say nothing, not when you spot tragedy crudely exposed. When he hugs you, it is as if moon and sun meet. It is as if an eclipse rises…
***
• We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine. Este's been losing sleep. Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity. She says, "That ain't my merlot on his mouth". "That ain't my jewelry on our joint account". No, there ain't no doubt. I think I'm gonna call him out…
“Infidelity is not always physical, but an aching that begins at the heart”, your sister muses at you in one of these days she gets into your brain like a prophetess.
She looks into your eyes as if she can read your future. What she may not know is that you too possess the ability of dreaming. It just comes perhaps in other shades.
“Treason often starts with ill intentions, whichever these may be”, you agree.
Yet, the conversation disrupts something that troubles your conscience. Specially when you know what he’s about to do, what path Aemond is going to take and in many ways it’s treacherous and horrendous. But you are comprehensive at it.
Later the same day, as you walk to the gardens, Aemond comes to meet you. It’s a sight to behold, the embodiment of innocence—a stark contrast to the darkness there is in him.
“Y/Nickname”, his husky voice startles you, but he sees how easily affected you are towards him.
A good observer like him needs little to see. He’s aware of how your body reacts to his, how synchronized you both are, sharing a unique connection that always binds him to you.
“Aemond, darling”, you turn abruptly and without thinking twice you run to him.
He smiles to himself as he is engulfed in your arms, tasting a rare sentiment of peace that only your company provides him. For some reason, the prince admonishes himself for letting be easily dragged into your kindness, mesmerized by your alluring beauty that matches his dragon fire.
Cleaning his thoughts, Aemond has to remember himself the reason why he’s here. Reluctantly he parts, his heart aching when detecting sadness in your eyes, aware of how attached you are to him.
“I need a favor.”
“Of course you do.”
Aemond blushes, fighting away remorse.
“Don’t look at me like that, my sweet. You know you’re the only one of this family I trust, aside Helaena, but it’s with you I am connected to, emotionally and carnally.”
You sigh, hands resting on your waist. Aemond’s good eye seems to see you as who you are, not as the epitome of handsomeness, but as the woman you’ve become. The gown you dress is silk green with short sleeves, showing some cleavage. He swallows, fighting away this strange urge of possessing you right here right there.
“Tell me, what’s it you require of me?”
“How you speak it makes me sound I only come for you to pursuit redemption for my sins. Though now that it occurs me this may be true.” He chuckles, but there is no joy in him. It’s when his true self comes to surface. “I think I’ve started a war.”
You barely blink, and every sexual tension in the air dissipates as you pale. You are suddenly dizzy and Aemond has to hold your elbows, leading you to a spot nearby.
“D-Do not think ill of me, I ask you this”, he begs, never before looking nor sounding so fragile.
You soften at him, cupping his cheeks before resting your forehead against his.
“I shall not, this I assure you. I suspect I’ve always sensed somehow due to our bond.”
Aemond’s long hands stroke your hair before sliding to your neck, there hesitating for a few seconds before breaking into an embrace in complete ignorance of how deeply he affects you.
“How can you be so good to me? I do not deserve you, Y/Nickname. You’re the only one who understands me”, so he snorts. “How can this be?”
You should not say it, nor think it, but Aemond is not entirely surprised when he hears these next words of you:
“You are my other half, Aemond. I could never refuse you anything.”
You close your eyes, subtly agreeing to be the one to hold his darkest secrets. The prince doesn’t know it yet, but he loves you for it.
***
• I think he did it but I just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime but I ain't letting up until the day I die. No, no. I think he did it. No, no. He did it…
You are bathing yourself at a lake with your sister. With no witnesses, both of you are deprived of your clothes, chuckling at such a defiant moment, aware this would raise your mother’s sharp reprehension.
It’s when he comes, since Aemond is sent to summon you and Helaena. The moment he finds you with your long locks completely wet, exposed in such a state under the sunlights… he freezes.
Aemond’s good eye stares at the happiness glinting behind your lilac gaze, watching how you throw yourself at the grass before standing and getting ready to dive in. He lingers at the sight of your firm breasts and large hips, good thighs to hold on.
His body may react at it. Worse than being mesmerized by you is that he’s caught staring at you.
“Aemond!”, you let a cry out, instantly going red before diving in.
Trying to conceal his boner, Aemond too blushes. Not until now he realized how easily you affect him. He clears his throat before saying:
“Mother is summoning.”
And then like the wind he disappears, leaving a hole where there is a heart beating in your chest.
“I think he’s fond of you”, says Helaena in giggles. “Marry him and the merrier you’ll be, dear sister.”
You hate how red your face is.
“Allow me to disagree, my beloved. Haven’t you heard he’s taken to his bed a bastard named Alys Rivers?”
The Queen laughs quietly at the jealousy that escapes your reasoning. You swim for a little more before getting yourselves dressed, back to meet your mother.
“Carnal needs are hardly met by the ones of the heart, my sister.” And then, before you two disappear into the castle, she mysteriously whispers: “You are the one he needs the most… considering the wayward path the gods chose him to follow.”
*
• Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen and I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. Good thing Este's sister's gonna swear she was with me ("She was with me dude"). Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy…
You omit his illicit affairs, not judging him for doing so. You watch as your mother, Queen Alicent, scowls at her dysfunctional children for their misbehavior on a war she attempted to prevent—more likely as she addresses the word to Aegon and Aemond.
Civil war has brokered out and the Seven Kingdoms bleed for Lucerys Velaryon. However, no judgement is found in your eyes as Aemond is scowled upon.
“You should be married to a noblewoman by now”, she says. “Perhaps a Baratheon lady, since this is a house loyal to us. Don’t give me this look, Aemond Targaryen, after disgracing us before the Gods.”
You pity his future wife, knowing his heart and flesh are tied to another woman. Aemond sees how quiet you’ve been in comparison to Aegon and Helaena’s odd bubbling and Daeron’s impatience at how this gleefully dinner is going.
“No body has been found”, you dare to raise your voice and instantly every sound dies. Aemond raises eyebrows and so do the others. You blush, but persist in your speech. “How can anyone think Aemond did it?”
Alicent looks at her daughter, puzzled by your sudden defense of your brother.
“My darling child, I’ve always judged you had put your brain to better use.”
You tilt your head.
“Why, my mother. Has the prince my brother spoken anything at all? You assumed he committed a crime by facts that were brought out by our enemies. Give him some credit!”
Opting to believe that your staunch belief that Aemond is innocent by all costs comes rather from your unshakable faith than your cynicism, Alicent limits herself to laugh away your arguments.
“Y/N, I am not tolerating this. Be quiet and meddle not where you are not concerned!”
It’s enough to cast a shadow in your rarely sentimental display. Disappointed, you are back to your seat, missing the thankful gaze Aemond shoots at you.
Yet, restless as you are, the crowed room does not silence you…
Until Gerold Hightower, unusual guest and witness of his Targaryens cousins squabbling, invites you for a dance. This angers the prince, who projects his frustrations at his mother.
Whilst the world burns in flames, you release your energy when you take your cousin’s hand and let be led him to dance, tired of caring, tired of feeling feelings that are the result of others deeds, you just want to be conducted out of this troubled world.
*
It’s late night when Aemond comes to your privy chambers. He needs you, his partner, his other half. The prince needs to reach his particular heaven, to gravitate to his sun.
You are just slipping inside the soft Dornish sheets when he follows you.
“Goodness me!”, you let a cry out when seeing Aemond next to you. “Aemond! I hate when you do that!”
“You don’t!”, he chuckles before poking your sides. “I’ve always done it and you never complained it.”
You squeak, falling into laughters as he tickles your side until you are breathless and laying on his lap.
“What brings you here, Aem?”, you ask him eventually rolling back on your side of bed.
He throws himself back at your bed, hands behind his neck, never unlocking the gaze you hold.
“I missed you”, he takes your fingers and interlock with his. “Your sweet disposition, your wit… everything I cannot be, the embodiment of virtues I cannot possess…”
You turn abruptly at him, and Aemond realizes how beautiful you look under candlelight, with a few locks dropping on your brow. He promptly takes them and puts behind your ear, diving in your lilac eyes and seeing the protest that has been forming in your mind.
“You are good. I know my prince, my other half.”
His gaze lingers at you, but lowers too to your neck. You still wear the necklace he gave you many moons ago, the day you reached ten and three summers. Aemond smirks, peeking your pink nipples that are this close to leave your nightgown.
“You do not what you say”, he quickly looks away, now stroking your cheek. “Such a faithful woman.”
“What a faithless man you’ve become”, you put him to an embrace, caressing his long locks, playing with your hand as he nuzzles against your neck, which makes you shake lightly.
Aemond cannot help a smile, feeling what you feel. This unusual connection never ended, he sees it now. It remains strong enough to erase him… the woman he’d publicly made his paramour.
As if you read his thoughts, you speak with a hint of disdain in your voice:
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”
Aemond detects the poorly dissimulated jealousy he finds in you and it makes him smile. You two really complete the other.
“What makes you think I have another place to be at?”
He now plays with the necklace and you pretend you do not feel that old ache rising to burn what’s between your legs. Aemond, however, spots the moment your nipples get hard. He sighs in content, pleased to have his confirmation. But the prince is in no rush to stop enjoying it.
He remembers the day he had an inter course with lady Alys and it does scare him that he came to climax thinking of you.
Aemond blushes at the memory.
“We all know the woman you are devoted to”, you say, gently turning against him in a manner to push him away.
“Come on, now, love. Do not do that”, he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder, snaking his arms around your waist. “Who am I without my fiercest defender?”
Gently, he places a kiss on top of your shoulder, eyes glued at your face, part of him praying not to be shooed away. You don’t do so, but neither give in as he hopes.
“Somebody’s husband and paramour”, you snark sarcastically, folding your arms.
Aemond chuckles, between annoyed and amused at your words. You try to ignore how suddenly his hand rest in your belly, pushing gently your nightgown as in a way to make you look at him.
You feel your breasts are about to leave the cloth that covers each, so you are about to adjust yourself when you find yourself locked in his arms. It doesn’t help you how he puts a knee to part your legs and discreetly lay in your womanhood.
Which of course messes with your reason, but you still hesitate.
“What do you think you are doing? Do you take me as your whore?!”, you frown, already moody because fire now burns your belly.
“Never”, Aemond scoffs at you, speaking more seriously now. “I meant every word I said. You are dear to me, my sweet loving sister to whom I devout myself to.”
You sigh, unsure what to say. You rest your head against his shoulder now, unknowing what to say.
“I think you keep too much to yourself”, he whispers, gently pressing his knee into your womanhood, earning a gasp that makes him smirk.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?”, you protest rather weakly.
“You think I wouldn’t notice?”, he looks down at you, his fingers now stroking your face before letting his index finger brush over your rosy lips.
“Notice what?”, by now your voice betrays you and almost unconsciously you rub onto his knee.
Aemond holds back a heavy sigh, sensing a boner growing the moment you suck his finger.
“You know what”, he takes it out of your lips and lifting your nightgown, slowly inserts it in your core. “There is no need to repress yourself, my love.”
You flutter your eyelashes, barely believing in what is happening. Your mouth forms an “o” as his finger investigates you, sliding farther before being joined by a second finger.
“Heavens!”, you throw your head back at the pillow, his gaze burning you.
“Yes”, he looks at your mouth, wondering what’s like to kiss it, to taste your tongue, but the prince is patient. Even if it arouses him to an unbearable point where his boner is troubling his self control. “Burn with me. It’s something you have always wanted haven’t you?”
He smirks as you arch your back, giving in completely.
“How’d you know?”, you ask in between whimpers.
Closing the distance between your lips, he says:
“What you feel I feel. The fire burning you inside, consuming desperately all that you heave…”, he bites your bottom lip, increasing the pace of his fingering. “I felt it too. You should have woken me up, told me countless times…”
“Aemond!”, you whimper under his good care of you.
No words are needed to be said. The moment his lips collide against yours coincides with when your legs are heavier, as if you are levitating, and then…
Every tension dissipates.
“I love you”. Aemond whispers against your ear, cuddling you protectively.
Rolling onto him, you kiss him again.
“I love you”, you mewl under his care, locking him still with your legs as his hands help removing you out of your nightgown.
“That day I spotted you at the lake”, says he, whose famine hands are now pursuing your freed nipples, which make you moan quite loudly. “Got me into another woman’s bed that wasn’t yours.”
You purr under his words, forsaking reason and good sense at your best. It is insensible to fight your heart’s desire, to not be consumed by the fire as he burns you with the other part of you he possesses so well.
“Aemond”, you moan out his name as his hands begin to play with your weak spots.
When he’s with you, no need there is to conceal who he truly is. His eye-patch is not there to hide away his scar, as well as others begin to be seen when your hand removes his clothes.
“Will you stay?”, you ask, insecurity shadowing the moment m.
Aemond looks into your eyes as he holds your face with both hands.
“Yes, my sweet princess. I shall make you my wife…”
“Lawfully”, you hint at refusing becoming his mistress.
Aemond chuckles.
“Lawfully”, he agrees.
So he kisses you.
***
• They think she did it but they just can't prove it. She thinks I did it but she just can't prove it. No, no body, no crime…
You are there when another crime happens. Aemond has been committed to his word. You are going to be espoused by your twin, thus respecting the Targaryen tradition that has been followed for ages.
But to every great delight is followed by a greater torment.
You are the one looking after your niece and nephew with your sister today. She’s been occupied with sewing and you are noticing sadness growing so suddenly in her features. You know what cause is there—you dreamed about it too, the loss of the precious Jaehaera and her twin Jaehaerys. The image daunts you.
As if moved by strange instinct, you summon them:
“My darlings, come here. I want to show you something…”
It happens very fast. Before the twins come to you, the royal privy chambers are taken by two strangers. Lowborn men dressing nothing but wickedness in their eyes take possess of the heirs of the crown.
“My children!”, Helaena squeaks. “Lords, please! Give them back to me!”
You try to get to the door, but not only it’s locked as the man who holds Jaehaerys slaps hard on your face, making you fall.
“An eye for an eye… But maybe this can be prevented if you choose one of your children to be saved!”
You panic, and so does Helaena. The older one that smells bad and holds a fanciful dagger says:
“Well? Beauty is not eternal, Madame. So perhaps you’d like to continue the lineage with your prince and let your princess attend the divine call?”
“This is not a divine call”, you scream. “It’s a crime!”
You try to find a weapon to avenge your sister, who is too nervous and shocked, having a breakdown at the scene, but the next thing you know you get yourself to a fight.
The next event was not predicted by Helaena. You jump into the back of the man who’s kidnapping Jaehaerys and thus release the boy. As you try to steal the man’s dagger, you manage to hurt him, which makes his partner get himself distracted and promoted to help him.
Whatever the case, you are not Aemond and your lack of strength is only an advantage to cause distraction. It works, but at what cost?
Soon the blade meets your belly and screams are heard like a haunted ghost throughout the castle. The sound is not yours, but Helaena’s.
Your beloved sister is about to lose her best friend for the sake of a dynasty that was damned from the beginning.
Your mind goes blank, though. All you remember is the days spent in relatively peace, quiet and studying, always omitting Aemond’s sins and ensuring these never reached your mother’s knowledge.
As you gasp in pain, weeping silently as your murderer twists the dagger in you. Believing your body will be disappeared after your last breath, Aemond will not know a crime has occurred.
Is your sacrifice worth of this dusted and dysfunctional family you are part of? When thinking of the safety of your nephews and the love you received of Aemond, you believe so.
Then you comfortably slip out of your conscience.
***
For some reason, you are spared by the Gods. Aemond is there next to you, concern stamping his features. It softens though when you move your hand, surprised to find it holding his.
“Y/N! Y/Nickname!”, you see tears in his good eye when he reaches for you, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought I lost you. I…”
He could not say another word. Still shaken for finding yourself alive and well, you have nothing to say as he rocks you in his arms. Only then you look at him, confused.
“What happened? I thought…”, and then you remember the events of that evening and you start to panic. “Aemond! The children, where are…?”
“Shh, shh…”, says the prince, kissing your lips gently. “No need to stress yourself over this matter, love. All has been resolved and our nephews are well. You are well and y his is mostly important.”
You snuggle onto his arms, weeping silently. Aemond understands what you’ve gone through, having spent the last days in great distress. He could not fight a war knowing you are not well. He could not bear in mind a world where you are not part of it.
Later you’d know Aemond rescued you because of the strong bond you two share. When he was about to fly Vhagar, he felt an excruciating pain flinch over his body, a terror that tormented his reason. Quickly he understood this was about you, that you needed him.
By the time he arrived at the Great Tower of the Red Keep, you have been just under a terrible attack that nearly costed your wife. The attackers escaped but Aemond hunted them down—after ensuring you were under the best care of the best men of the realm—and personally ensured to execute such criminals.
As he did, Aemond knew who was the responsible for sending these two after his nephew and niece. The prince soon found his uncle Daemon’s whereabouts and a fight followed—to no avail, although Daemon was forced to seek exile.
The blacks are now momentarily defeated and now all of your family are present in Aemond’s privy bedchambers—to where you were taken—looking after you.
“My dear girl. How imprudent of you to behave the way you did”, Alicent is weeping since the moment she saw you are awake. “I frightened for you. I prayed for your soul. I… My sweet Y/N! I have no words for what you’ve done and the great pain you made me suffer! Do you care so little about your life?”
Before you could give her an answer, which includes an apology, another teary relative comes to your sight. The Queen Helaena rushes to your side before carefully holding you in her arms.
“I didn’t see it coming, please forgive me!”
“There’s nothing to forgive. What it matters is that they are well… aren’t they?”
“They are”, a male, embargoed voice joins the party. It’s Aegon’s. “Y/N, your loyalty has always been the most admirable trait of a sweet heart none but Helaena possesses genuinely. Thank you.”
It’s an emotional scene, a reward for a duty you’ve never expected to earn. Aemond is there by your left side, him too sharing your sentiments. It is clear by now that what one feels, so does the other.
But what a greater victory there is to rejoice now than the harmony of the Dowager Queen and her children?
You know it… because you’ve dreamt it.
***
• Epilogue.
Harrenhal Castle, many years later.
No more shadows nor sorrows since war came to an end. For once every enemy is defeated and the king reigns uncontestedly with his family by his side.
Politics here, politics there, a rival to your man’s love is nowhere to be seen. Some of the servants believe you possess the same wickedness there is in Lord Aemond’s heart, for since you and him were married, Alys Rivers has gone to dust. Where has she gone, the ambitious witch?
A name that doesn’t remain in anyone’s mind when your Valyrian beauty is seen inside and out of the Castle. You are a good landowner and you do your charity.
You earn the epithet of “the good lady wife of Aemond, the kinslayer”. But you do not mind it. Not when you rule your household… and him.
Whilst children are fast asleep, you are found in great intimacy with your lord husband. In nude state, you sit at the edge of your bed, subduing him at your will.
“Aemond!”, you throw your head back, going insane at the wonderfulness his tongue does inside your womanhood, dancing around your clit until he drinks all the liquid you provide him. “Oh, oh Aem…!”
You gently push his face to your core, arching your back as that familiar wave rises from your already levitating thighs… before crushing in your belly. And you almost scream, had he not placed a hand over your mouth.
Soon after, he doesn’t let you take a break and promptly slides inside you, making you whimper and squint in surprise.
“My lady is soaked!”, Aemond pushed you by your thighs, his tone so indecently hot that you squirm and drop back in bed. “Goodness me, woman!”
The prince groans loud, throbbing right into you, watching you with lust and desire as you are about to get undone again. Specially when he intercalates his deep thrusts with his fingers.
“Sing it to me”, he now inclines his body over yours, both of you soaked. Aemond wraps a hand around your neck, holding it the way you like him to all the whilst slapping your bum respectfully. He’s about to come undone himself. “Yes, wife!”
And to his surprise, you lock him with your legs and turn positions. Barely you begin to ride him, though, when both of you reach orgasm.
“This was so good!”, Aemond cries out before making out with you passionately.
He then helps you come to his side, and there your bodies remain interlocked.
“I think we conceived”, you muse mischievously.
Aemond is cuddling onto you, holding you tightly close. You don’t mind his sweat, so mixed to yours that smell as one. You love him intently so and he feels it.
“I don’t mind if we do”, he chuckles. “The more, the merrier.”
One exchange of glances is enough to express how one feels for the other. It makes you happy, it contents him likewise. No signs of war, no crimes to be slandered of. No more.
It’s all good. Perfectly good…
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cindylouwhooo · 4 months
Text
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Chapter Three
Gigi’s POV
A pounding headache and a dry throat greet me with the morning sun, as I struggle to get out of bed. It must be the thirtieth minute of my daily aimless scrolling through Twitter and Instagram, and I find myself looking for the negative comments. In my head, I’m fully aware how wrong it is, how I’m not supposed to give into the haters, how I’m supposed to close my eyes and move on with my life.
But some hopeless, insane part of me believes that every negative thing that I come across social media will light that fire that’s long put out inside me—that I’ll take the bait and get into the studio, write the greatest album of all time and be rid of all the weight of what my name brings me.
Of course, by the reach of the hour, my brain has been convinced that my previous albums were a pile of shit and that I’ll never be able to write anything in my life, ever again.
The phone drops from my hand and I dig my body further into the mattress, letting the peace and comfort of my bed convince me into getting some more sleep. I dream of nothing, and I wake up realising that I might have dreamed of my future career.
~ ~ ~
Lando’s POV
“Please.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Yes you can.”
“I absolutely cannot. Kika will kill me and then break up with me. And I can’t have that.”
I let out the longest sigh as I walk beside Gasly. Journalists, photographers, engineers and other drivers walk past us, looking, whispering. Not that I care. I couldn’t even if I tried.
“Fine, just give me Kika’s number and I’ll ask her.”
After glaring at me for mentioning his girlfriend’s name, he begrudgingly pulls out his phone and brings it to my face. I scramble to grab mine from the pocket of my sweats and hastily tap down Kika’s number.
“I’m choosing her contact name.” He demands, but I’m only half listening—too focused on trying to transfer the numbers correctly from his phone to my contacts.
She’s ethereal. I don’t even know how I went all my life without glancing twice at her—speaking as a person who happened to have done just that the previous night, as is now unable to look at anything else.
Gigi Santos could easily be way out of my reach, but I’d be damned not to try extending my arm towards her; just to see if angels really exist.
“Honestly, I can’t even believe she followed you.” Pierre admits as we keep walking towards the media pen.
I let out a huff, slightly agreeing with him, yet still offended he’s find that surprising.
“Gigi is super private, doesn’t like people much.” He goes on. “But maybe that’s good, that she followed you. I don’t know. Anyways, I gotta go—watch what you say to my girl.”
I roll my eyes and start walking the other way, eyes fixated on the screen in front of me.
Unknown
Hi Kika. It’s Lando
Norris
From formula one
Pierre’s girl
Hi!
Everything okay?
Lando from formula 1
Yeah, no all good 👍🏻
I was just wondering, I mean,
I was thinking about your
friend.
Gigi Santos
She is, she’s cute
Pierre’s girl
She sure is
Lando from formula 1
Yeah and I was hoping
maybe I could get her
number? From you
Pierre wouldn’t give it to me
Pierre’s girl
Sorry!! She doesn’t like random people having her number without her knowing :(
But I’m sure you’ll have your chance at talking :)
Lando from formula 1
What do you mean?
Pierre’s girl
I mean, it seems like you’re already in contact
Kind of
I smile, knowing exactly what she was talking about.
The post I made just this morning on instagram, was a long shot, risky and could possibly lead to Gigi Santos thinking I’m a cocky arsehole. But my fingers itched as they lingered over the post button, my whole body vibrating with a random need to interact with her—without looking like a needy fucking chad, who DMs her with no cause.
My heart almost stopped when my eyes caught her name on the liked list, and I swear I stopped breathing when her post popped up on my feed—I’m single too btw.
I nearly hop over to Kaylee, my PR manager, who seems much too irritated for a Thursday.
“Good morning, Kaylee.”
“Just morning will do, Lando, since you decided to make a social media uproar by declaring your marital status.” She eyes me, surely picturing how it’d be to strangle me. “I want no mention of anything close to your relationship status, Instagram, plans of partying after the GP or Gigi Santos.”
My eyes pop out of their sockets, shocked to have someone else acknowledge our little interaction.
“W-what?”
“I’m not dumb, or hiding under a rock. Neither are the journalists, nor the people who’ll view your interviews. Just be mindful. ‘S all I ask.”
I nod, not trusting myself to say the appropriate thing, and try to prepare for a day of avoiding my favorite subjects.
~ ~ ~
Instagram Reels - Lando Norris, Media day, last interview of the day
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142.038 views
comments
LLL4NDO.NORRIS bro literally changed ten colors when asked about his post LOL
ln4fan what a cheeky shit, pretending not to know mother Gigi
44loves04 LANDO YOU AINT FOOLING NO BODY
gigimothersantos this man better be joking
gigi1604 MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING
f1fan63 am i the only one that’s confused?
gigisantos at least he said he loved my songs 🤷🏻‍♀️
-> santossssslovr MOTHER
-> gigiismyqueen go get em girl
-> hayleelovesgigi give us the album!!!!!
~ ~ ~
Gigi’s POV
I smiled at my phone, overly amused by whatever game I decided to play.
I don’t know what made me rise from the hungover/coma I was in a few hours ago, just to make a post about being single and commenting on that reel.
There’s no logical explanation other than the sudden need to be in this man’s world.
It was clear the post Lando made was about me, and, honestly? I found it terribly adorable. My heart flipped and my lunges filled with an energy I hadn’t felt in a long time…plus, he’s a race car driver and I’m single.
Having fun and playing this little game with him while I’m here won’t hurt. I need a new distraction from whatever’s going on in my career anyway.
Maybe coming to Monaco was a better idea than I originally thought.
———————
SMALL, SHITTY AND ALMOST POINTLESS but I suck at intro chapters and I promised two chapter before the new year
i will definitely do better next time and get into the characters and ACTUAL plot lol
anyways, i hope you enjoy your New Year’s Eve!! 🥂
cindy
(ps. my inbox is open if u wanna say hi 👋🏻)
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buckets-and-trees · 1 year
Text
Consort
Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Namor x female!Reader Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Diplomatic fraternization is never easy and situations can turn on a dime. When you accompany your father to negotiate future ties between your two underwater kingdoms, one mistake changes everything.
Content Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding
Additional Notes: Before this week it had never even as a WHIM come across my radar to write anything Namor. But two-almost-three-days ago @artsynellyyy shared a ridiculously gorgeous unfinished piece of art she was working on, asked for some input, and it spurred a plot concept that just GRIPPED my brain and had me feeling THINGS. I don’t think I will be writing a lot of Namor, but I do know there’s certainly a part two to this because…there’s more story for these two in my head. There’s a particular moment that exists for them that as this developed, I knew could not happen yet for them, it would’ve been too rushed. So… just… Happy fourth installment of the 2022 Holiday Extravaganza!
A/N 2: Be gentle! This is my first attempt at Namor. I did some canon diving and research, but I did not dive deep into the Namor fandom because I didn’t want to get too influenced about established patterns or too intimidated about what’s already out there. Honestly kind of terrified to publish this one, so just... jumping out of the airplane and pulling the parachute okay bye.
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“Let us speak without pretense,” the king of Talokan’s voice resonates powerfully through the throne room. “Tell me why you sought private audience with me today, Hamal.”
Standing at the right hand of your father, you observe the way he draws his shoulders up just a fraction more, the way his nostrils flare just before he speaks again. “Fine, I will speak plainly, Namor. Your recent dealings with the surface, particularly with the kingdom of Wakanda, is concerning to the kingdom of Fourchon.”
“Why should it concern you?” Namor patiently humors the conversation further, but you can read that the patience is wearing thin.
“King to king, I find it concerning because it calls into question whether we are moving into a state of volatility for all who dwell in the oceans, and I have no wish to see my people drawn into hostilities or war of any kind.”
“And you are here to ensure continued peace between our nations?”
“I am.”
Your heart isn’t racing, but the beats thrum more swiftly against your chest as you will this to go well.
“And what do you propose, Hamal? What does the kingdom of Fourchon possibly have to offer Talokan?”
There’s a moment of silence that hangs between the two rulers, then your father answers, “Her.”
Every muscle in your body seizes with dread, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes widen, but every bit of diplomatic rearing mercifully allows you to keep your mouth from dropping open in complete shock.
“My daughter.”
You cannot look at either king, looking straight ahead to keep your composure, but you register the sharp change in Namor’s voice. “Fourchon is neither enemy nor ally to Talokan, and yet you come to my court with the arrogance of demanding peace between our countries when for more than three hundred years there has been nary a quarrel. Indeed, your small kingdom has meant nothing to me, an inconsequential player amongst underwater realms. We have maintained social civility only because you were not worth any more or less to me.
He pauses, and you can feel the tension rolling in waves off your father.
“Your offer is horrible, but I will give you what you came here to bargain and secure today for the sake of your people, despite the prideful blunder of their king. Now leave.”
You are desperate to acquiesce to Namor’s command after the humiliation of being offered first as a trinket or some form of tribute and then receiving by association a political rebuke, and you turn immediately to depart with your father.
“Not you, Princess,” his voice halts you.
You watch your father leave; he doesn’t look back at you or Namor.
“Come here,” the king of Talokan says.
You turn back to face him, squaring your shoulders and looking straight at him as you approach. Your father had asked for a private audience, and you are grateful for that as no one else saw the disaster that just took place.
He regards you openly. You focus on breathing evenly when all you want to do is flee from this room and let your emotions rage. When his gaze meets yours again, he tilts his chin and narrows his eyes ever so slightly.
“Do you not kneel for your king?”
Heat rushes from your chest up to flood your cheeks, and your throat feels thick with anger, but you manage to speak. “You are not my king.”
“Did I not accept the terms offered?”
“An offer you called horrible,” you say as you sink to your knees and bow your head as is customary.
“The offer, not you.”
Your head snaps back up at these words.
“And the offer was horrible in relation to you, not me.”
Your brow furrows in question.
“When your father made the overtures for this meeting, I asked my ambassador to share with me his outlook on your kingdom and your court.”
“You said we were inconsequential.”
“But an element that still exists.”
He evaluated the full landscape. You were under no illusions that the kingdom of your birth was small in comparison to Talokan or Atlantis, but  he was a ruler who wasn’t fool enough discount the smaller players.
“My ambassador said,” he continues, “that your people love and respect you and that it is a loss to Fourchon that you were both second-born and a daughter of the throne instead of a son.”
Resentment spreads through your veins at these words. You’d fought the unrest of what you would not be able to do while also feeling confident in your brother’s ability to rule, that he’d proven himself worthy of his birthright.
“He said you were your father’s favorite.”
You had thought that, too. And yet… “How easily he would bargain me away would say otherwise.”
“It was clear you had no indication of his intent.”
A bitter laugh escapes your throat. “Truly. I thought he valued my presence, my counsel, even perhaps my help in diplomatic relations, but I was only a pawn.”
“No.”
You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side.
“I think you are wrong. Stand, Princess.”
You rise slowly, with as much grace as you can.
He moves from the throne, stepping over the jaw that frames his seat of power, and moves down the steps toward you.
“In future you kneel for only me, no one else.”
You remain in your place as he slowly circles you.  
“I did lecture your father for his arrogance on an improper read on the state of affairs, assuming Talokan would turn on Fourchon. However, as a king, I do not fault him for caring for the welfare of his people, or for overestimating the value of his kingdom,” he states, his voice warming with this admission. He comes to a stop in front of you. “And to negotiate safety and peace for his people?” He raises his right hand and draws his fingers down reverently along your jaw. “He offers you, his greatest treasure. He insinuates you are worth more than an entire kingdom.”
You open then close your mouth, unsure how to respond to this interpretation. Your eyes search his, but all you can see there is a resoluteness that he truly means what he’s just said. It’s disarming, and with the way your world fell out from under you only minutes ago, you’re unsure of what to trust now.
Namor radiates confidence, it rolls easily off him in waves, but when he takes a step closer, you can feel the heat of him. His fingers move over your shoulder and down the length of your arm, and you shiver but keep holding his gaze. Your instincts tell you that every moment in this room has been significant, it’s determining your future, every movement, every word, every observation.
He takes half a step closer, only a whisper of space between you now, and you hold your ground. He almost smiles, then he turns away, seizing your hand and leading you up the stairs of the dais, and you quickly lift your skirts so you can ascend quickly behind him. Up close you can admire the artistry of the jaw that encases his throne. Like him, it’s charming, beautiful, and dangerous, each intricate designs carved into the bone, and the teeth replaced with jade stones.
“Your father was right to anticipate a shift in my rule.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been king of Talokan for centuries, but my dealings with Wakanda have me considering eventualities of the future.”
Namor takes steps over the jaw, then draws you carefully in with him, still holding your hand as you step over the mighty frame, before finally releasing it. He turns back to look out over the throne room and further the drop off to look out over the kingdom of Talokan, but angles himself slightly toward you as well, and you mirror him. It’s a breathtaking view, and you imagine it is an altogether different manner of beauty with the court or an audience of people called to convene. But like this, still and quiet, it’s ethereal.
“You will be my queen.”
“That’s a bold declaration.”
“You’ve been offered to me in exchange for a promise of peace for your people, would you renege?”
You close your eyes briefly but square your shoulders and shake your head.
“Now you can choose your course in this.”
“Enlighten me,” you can’t hold back, though you do manage to keep your voice even.
There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, but he’s speaking again before you can decipher it. “If I’m to have an heir, to secure the future, ensure stability for my people, I need a queen; but whether you merely bear my child or become my consort is something I cannot determine for you. I would prefer the latter.”
In the next second, he’s pulled you to his side and captured your lips in a kiss that is altogether slow and searing. His arm winds around your waist, bringing you flush against him, and your hands move of their own volition to rest on either side of his neck. Heat runs through your veins, and you know without question he could consume you.
You break off the kiss, but he respectfully retreats. He takes a seat on the throne, and you see he’s as breathless as you are.
But you broke off the kiss to ask the question that will haunt you if you don’t ask it.
“You’re truly ready to bind me to your side, just like that? You don’t even know me.”
“This is not a marriage of convenience. This is a marriage of opportunity.”
“I’m not–“
He holds up a hand to silence you, but it’s not in impatience, you can see that in his face, and he immediately says, “I will grant you that we do not know each other yet, but I know enough to know who you are. I have the trusted insight of my ambassador, but I also have accounts from people who have served and interacted with you here in my own kingdom these past two days, and biologically prolonged life or not, a king also doesn’t keep his crown or the respect of his people for as long as I have without being able to judge those around him well. You were taken by surprise today, but you are not naïve. You came to my court to be of counsel, serve, influence. Why should that not still be your fate?”
“A foreign princess?”
He shakes his head and holds his hand out to you. “A queen consort.”
You search his face again. This was the moment. You could not read any falseness, arrogance, or cruelty. Indeed, though he was surprising you with this swift and forthright proposition, your intuition doesn’t question him or his intentions.
You take the hand he presented, and he pulls you forward, placing his hands on your hips once you are close enough and guiding you to sit astride one of his powerful thighs, the rich fabric of your dress sliding up your legs. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.
“I want your mind, your body, and your soul,” he says, sealing it with your name, not your title.
“I want the same,” you say.
“You’re sure?”
“I need the same.” Being this close to him is both invigorating and steadying. The way he is looking at you, the way he is holding you, it’s also intimate and heated, and those feelings are amplified as he pulls you just a little closer.
“Then take what you need,” he commands in a tone that makes your heart soar and desire bloom in your stomach. He flexes his thigh against your core, and it spurs you to lean in and kiss him again, hungry for more.
He matches your eagerness. When his tongue seeks entrance, you open your lips, moaning. He begins rocking your hips back and forth over his thigh, and you know he can feel the heat and the wetness of the desire he’s stoked within you seeping through the silk of your underwear. As you take control of moving against him, his hands travel up your sides until he reaches your breasts, and his thumbs brush over the tender flesh. You both moan, him in approval, and you with pleasure. You’re swept away completely in all the sensations, in his passion, your body singing for him. He is a powerful force, one you will have to be sure to meet with your own spirit and fire so you aren’t lost. This union is for fulfilment for you both, not to be destroyed, diminished, or tossed away.
As you speed up, he drops one hand down to anchor on your hips, helping you grind down on his thigh. He keeps flexing it against you, and you whimper, head falling back.
“Keep going,” he growls against the column of your throat, kissing his way down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. “I love the way your body is trembling; I can tell you’re so close.”
“Yes, Namor,” you keen.
“K’uk’ulkan,” he says, and your head snaps back up, eyes locking intensely with his.
“K’uk’ulkan,” you repeat – the invitation to use the more personal name drops the intimacy between you two to a deeper level.
You both move with a desperate frenzy now, you craving the release and him eager to give it to you, his lips searing every inch of the exposed skin available to him at your neck, collar bone, pulling at the neckline of your dress.
“So close,” you cry.
“Let go.”
And you do, tight coil of ecstasy peaking and releasing, you cling to him, and as your body begins to relax wish pleasure, you press your forehead to his, both of your eyes closed now, sealing the moment in your memory.
His hands are slowly running up and down your back. “Jach ma’alob,” he croons softly. “This is enough for now; there will be so much more, my queen.”
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Jach ma’alob = very good
PART TWO: COMPANION
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
If you enjoyed, reblog to help others find this story AND to normalize the fic-reblog culture. There are so many talented writers, and a reblog really fuels the muses of the soul more than you know - we all appreciate it whether we're big or little fish in this pond.
My askbox is always open. See you on the flipside for day four of AHE...
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lavoixhumaine · 1 month
Text
for people citing Athena’s excitement in the episode where she is super excited about the cruise with Bobby while FaceTiming with her mom…have we been watching the same show? i am seriously curious.
it’s no secret that Beatrice Carter disapproved of Athena’s choice to marry Bobby. this is well documented and it’s canon as fuck. and that’s just Bobby existing. like the man probably cannot even breathe right in her presence. maybe she’s less vicious with him now but that doesn’t mean she’s fully approved of him. and Athena knows this because she knows her mom and how she operates. she might tolerate the big strong fireman now but that does not mean she likes him.
it is a fragile peace, of sorts.
so is it any surprise that Athena would do everything possible to make sure her mother doesn’t find some other reason to dislike Bobby? like, say, picking the wrong honeymoon for her daughter? it seems silly to hold that against the guy but with a mom like that…would a loving wife risk it?
is it really so hard to imagine that Athena would hide her genuine fears about going on a cruise ship with Bobby from Beatrice? that she would make sure Beatrice does not find yet another thing to disapprove of when it comes to Bobby? and is it so hard to imagine that Athena would hide her childhood fears from an overly critical parent?
do i think the Poseidon Adventure issue was already in place before season 7 was plotted out? no, not really. but does it work for me? so far, yes. i can buy Athena faking her enthusiasm and lack of fear from her parents. she doesn’t want to hear it from her mom and she doesn’t want to worry her dad. and she will shield Bobby from that mess as much as she can. as for May? i can’t imagine a mom like Athena would easily let her daughter know about this particular phobia. you never want to show your kids fear, or some shit like that people believe.
so…yeah. that’s my mish mash mashed potato brain thought of the hour. this isn’t a ted talk. kthxbyeee!
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smokingasters · 5 months
Text
I watched some parts of First Inspector after Providence and a lot of stuff made sense. One was Sibyl's dialogue with Shindo and Asusawa about the criminally asymptomatic.
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Sibyl is comprised of asymptomatic, who can either be saints or psychos. This was what Arata's dad Atsushi was hoping in Providence. Instead of becoming a part of Sibyl, Arata would choose to live on and work for the Ministry. Providence explains that Atsushi and Homura's father had placed bets and that Atsushi was an old player of Round Robin who essentially didn't just bet on Arata, but perhaps also Kei, Maiko, and Akira as well? It would make sense why Akira was displeased when he met Atsushi. Also clears up why Atsushi had to die, since Akira, the person he bet on died, Atsushi could not rejoin Round Robin to enlist Arata and it was Homura Shizuka who bet on Arata instead, won and dissolved Bifrost through the Sibyl System. It also makes sense why Kogami said this to Kei before beating him up (more under the cut)
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It's because Akane said it to him. That they were a team and that he shouldn't try to do things alone. It also makes sense why Kogami worried that Akane should have not borne the 'crime' of killing Chief Kasei. (who makes an appearance in FI) in the FES Live Reading Drama. The strangest thing though, is Akane's clothes in FI.
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Remind you of something?
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Yeah. For some reason, this detail made me uneasy. Also in Providence I noted that Kasei did not flinch at all when Akane aimed the gun to kill her. She did not seem surprised, as though Chief had foreknowledge that Akane would do this.
In the Genesis (3-4) novels, the first Kasei Joshuu was made from two brains. Two criminally asymptomatic individuals, an Inspector who wanted to protect people and believed that humans would find a way to escape the bloodthirsty nature of Sibyl, and the second brain was of an ex-member of a terrorist group, who was the only successful case of being an artificially introduced criminal asymptomatic (not born asymptomatic but created through intensive experiments), who died respecting the Inspector's beliefs that some people found peace and happiness under the Sibyl System and did not destroy it. The two individual brains were fused into a single unit but they lost their sense of identity to form the Chief of the PSB.
This is the main reason Akane is favoured by Kasei Joshuu, because she reflects the combined ideals of these brains. Akane is allowed to return to the PSB as a statutory Enforcer and I think she will be assisting Homura, the new chief. S4 may have them working together, while Kogami continues working for the SAD in Dejima. Shizuka Homura is mysterious as heck, he's also kind of creepy, and his goals are unclear, so forgive me if I cannot trust him, yet. He risked his life to play Round Robin and its thanks to him that Akane is back, but is relationship with Sibyl makes me uneasy.
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Homura's words eerily echo Akane's employment, as a statutory Enforcer. So she's 'free' but not really. But who the heck is completely free under Sibyl? I suppose, Akane's position is better because she's favoured by Sibyl and the System needs her to provide more upgrades. Akane is still persistent that the Law should exist, because she believes that its the Law that shall also protect Sibyl.
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Does this mean S4 shall be the finale? Or do we have much more to go? Again, I only watched a few clips of FI, so my theory might be completely wrong, I shall have to rewatch S3 and FI entirely to make sense of how it connects to Providence. Your additions are welcome ❤️ and thank you for reading.
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iamafictionfreak · 6 months
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TIS THE SEASON TO BE MERTHUR!
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Just... Look at them!
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I miss everything about this show. Even the very bad CGI and the weak-ass plot points/armour/conveniences/contrivances.
One Christmas Eve, almost 11 years ago, the entire Merlin fandom was butchered into tiny little distraught pieces. It didn’t matter if your favourite character was Merlin or Morgana, Gaius or Gwen. The showrunners held no qualms in destroying your dreams for Gwaine or Perce. The writers did not hold back in their aim to crucify the smile on your face, to forever turn it upside down. No ship was spared. All hopes for the show to finally commit to their original intent, to bring peace between peoples, to save Albion, to allow Merlin his freedom and Arthur the truth, was brought to a bitter, fatalistic end.
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Not that I need to repeat this to you, you know what happened, but it’s worth reiterating that this travesty occurred… on Christmas Eve.
CHRISTMAS. EVE.
Christmas Eve.
The night before Christmas, the night before the day where all rules are broken and we can frolic like children around a decorated tree filled with twinkling lights, our collective hearts were shredded.
This event (once we recovered a tiny bit from the shock) gave birth to a plethora of astonishingly well written, poignant, devastating, hilarious fanfictions that had helped nurse our wounds, for nothing could TRULY heal (except a follow-up season with the original characters, come ON BBC) us.
After nearly 11 years of watching these brilliant entries grow, I never thought I’d jump on this bandwagon and write my own fic.
But I've had a few very shit years, as have many people around the world, and I started to wonder as we do when we want to prove magic can still happen.
My brain decided that it wanted my hands to write the most indulgent, likely over done fic in existence for the fandom. This thought stuck with me throughout the year – I was being STALKED by myself – and wouldn’t leave me the hell alone. This hasn’t happened in a long while.
Still… you’ll eyeroll at the idea. It's so OBVIOUS, I'm embarrassed by myself.
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What if Arthur discovered Merlin’s magic from the get-go, from episode 1?
WAIT. Hear me out…
So, Merlin saves Arthur for the first time and Arthur SEES. He sees his eyes glow.
He knows he should tell his father, but his instincts are screaming at him. Honour is at stake. This stranger saved his life. How could he reward it with an execution? So, a chance needs to be given, doesn’t it? A chance for Merlin to give up magic forever and live a life of goodness, to turn away from evil and serve Arthur…
Except Arthur can’t help but wonder. About Magic, about Merlin and magic, about the law and all the whys attached and his place within this chain.
But he also can’t trust this peasant who cavorts with the devil, practices wickedness but smiles like a child and offers compassion to everyone. Someone so duplicitous must be dangerous… except Merlin’s an actual idiot! And it’s getting really difficult to keep his guard up.
But isn’t that how sorcerers work? They twist the mind with pleasing ideas, they tempt and coerce, they manipulate.
And slowly, Arthur finds himself being manipulated too. For how could he ever want to trust this man- but he does. He does.
And we’ve never been allowed to see Merlin deal with a S1 Arthur who’s in the ‘know’. Who’s forcing him to keep it secret, who’s threatening him with trial by fire, a young Arthur who’s ignorant, arrogant and so desperate to understand what he cannot trust.
Then there's the layers, royalty versus peasantry, friendship versus alliances, goals versus ideals.
I want to write a fic where this trust is built from the ground up. One of the things about the show that made it impossible for me to let it go is that the ‘relationship’ between Arthur and Merlin fits exactly zero categories, yet all of them.
Master and servant.
Friends
Family
Allies
Enemies
Romantic ideals
Platonic soulmates
Absolute Soulmates
I could go on. And it's one of those rare shows where the writing would be given more oomph if the males leads had dared cross a line or two.
Realistically, they weren't even friends. They were master and servant who'd become a little co-dependant. Arthur could never admit to anything more because of his station, but would he have been able to being completely himself around Merlin if he'd known the truth? We never see Arthur truly be himself. He wasn't allowed to be, not even with his wife. There was always a wall - it was how he was raised and any attempt to develop was killed by plot.
We never saw Merlin completely free, not with a single person. He started happy and healthy and innocent. A liar. He ended up bitter and terrified and angry and alone. Still a liar.
What would he have become if there'd been one person he could truly trust- not Gaius. Not a man already broken and brainwashed by his own self. A victim of the system just as much as he perpetuated the hate and completely unaware of the trap he lived in.
Many of the characters in the show have the versatility and potential to be written a trillion different ways, is it any wonder that fics continue to be written?
Well, I wanted to explore a slow burn development of trust, with Arthur learning how wrong he was, how much he’s trampled on, and all about the seemingly normal peasant boy who meant more to the world than Arthur could possibly understand. What would they have become if they’d been given the time, hm?
When they were young - yes, I'm going there - wild and free.
What of Morgana, what if she could have trusted? What if she could have understood? Would it have turned out differently? Would she have still become the other side of Uther's coin?
Would Merlin still have ended up alone?
There’s lots more I wanted to touch upon, it’s a big what if, but that’ll have to wait for another post.
I’m writing a 5 part prologue that occurs between episode 1 and 2. I’m hoping to release it for Christmas and then take the time to write the rest of the season.
Unless… you guys think it’s a waste of time? Let me know.
In the meantime, I’m STILL SUFFERING (fucking show) and it's making me write, write, write!
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(gifs not mine)
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