#the relationship i have with the series is like and on and off thing

[pomefioredove]

who they fall for, heartslabyul

I did a longer one of these for rook and now I can't get the idea out of my head, so... series! (part 1/8)

summary: soulmates type of post: blurbs characters: deuce, ace, cater, trey, riddle additional info: romantic, not proofread so maybe ooc, gender neutral partner, really just thoughts

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

trope: dorks in love

Deuce ends up with someone who, most of all, challenges him. they put him at ease, and there's a definite shared gentleness between the two, but it's his partner's subtle rebellious streak that wins him over (though they definitely know when to tone it down). puppy love that turns into something deeper. they accept him as he is, flaws and all, and they support him in his growth towards becoming a better person. fiercely loyal. they and Deuce would constantly be fighting to be the "chivalrous" one. taking turns telling the waiter the other asked for no pickles, running to hold doors open, etc. it's cute, but a little competitive, just enough to motivate him.

𝐀𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐚

trope: tsundere

his soulmate? someone who can take a joke. no, no, I'm kidding, but they would have a wicked sense of humor, one that compliments his perfectly. and an adorable laugh, of course, snorts and all. someone who can feed his ego without overdoing it, keeping him wrapped around their little finger (trust me, he loves it). a little mutual teasing never hurt anyone, right? at the same time, though, they'd be completely devoted, loyal, and loving, just like he is. he brags about being a ladies man, though, really, he's almost completely closed off when it comes to matters of the heart. it takes a lot of patience (and a lot of putting up with his shenanigans) before those walls start coming down to reveal the romantic hidden behind them.

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝

trope: slowburn

similar to friends to lovers, but of a different flavor. Cater is subtly flirty with almost everyone, it's the people-pleasing, but a soulmate? yeah, he'll believe it when he sees it! of course, he's completely blind to what he's needed all along being right in front of him. someone who listens to him, who cares deeply about his feelings, who can read his body language and know just what he's thinking. someone he feels comfortable around without feeling the need to hide himself. a bestie, if you will. he's absolutely the first to catch feelings and drives himself mad about it, not daring to make a move out of a fear of vulnerability (or being a weirdo, take your pick) and it devolves into months, years worth of cringe pining. "looking at the pictures they'd taken together and giggling" pining.

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

trope: weirdos in love

thought it was gonna be domestic bliss? nope. I'm saving that one. Trey isn't quite ready to settle down yet, having spent his whole life taking care of others (to the point where he hasn't had a moment to figure out who he is...) and so he's put a hold on the whole "romance" thing. of course, the last thing he was expecting after graduation was to bump into someone that would throw that plan out the window. truly, his soulmate is someone he feels he can be himself with, who gives him the ability to relax and be the one who gets pampered, for once... it's a very equal and loving relationship with a like-minded and responsible person. one who goes along with all his bits, too.

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

trope: opposites attract

oof the ouch. no, Riddle is not ready for the ups and downs of a relationship, and he knows that. he's always chalked up his disinterest in romance to his studies, and his utter disinterest in taking anyone home to meet his mother's highly specific future-in-law criteria. though, secretly, Riddle has held onto his own little list of "perfect" traits, almost going as far to fantasize about an imaginary partner to keep him company. the person he does end up falling for makes that list null and void. they're daring, adventurous, creative, curious, open to all sorts of nonsensical ideas that challenge all of Riddle's. they represent a sort of freedom that he's never had, and before he can even hate them, he finds himself falling. but someone like that could never tie themselves down to someone like him... right?

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

[reallyromealone]

How about part 4 to bakugos brother. The plot has thicken. 🙃🫰🏼

Title: bakugos brother

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bnha ensemble

Fic type: series

Chapter: 4

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, reader is awkward, broken sibling relationship, reader is siblings to Katsuki, hurt to comfort, neglectful parents

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) And Kirishima went upstairs as Aizawa sat in the livingroom with the Bakugo parents, (name) looking surprisingly nervous as he went to his room.

"Whatever he did we will pay for" Mrs. Bakugo started and Aizawa raised his hand to stop her "I'm actually here on behalf of U.A to extend an invitation for your son to attend the general studies program as we have recently opened a spot in that class post sports festival" Aizawa began and watched their reactions carefully, Mr. Bakugo seemed curious and a bit excited at the concept of his son having the experience but Mrs Bakugo seemed... Less thrilled "would that affect Katsuki?" She asked simply and Aizawa raised an eyebrow at her statement.

"The two would be in completely different programs, how on earth would that affect Katsuki?" Mr Bakugo said simply and the blond woman glared without any bite at her husband "Principal Nedzu is particularly interested in his intelligence quirk and would like to talk about it when we do the transfer if you are willing to agree"

And the color drained from their faces.

(Name) And Kirishima cuddled on (name)s beanbag chair, a massive thing that was (name)s first purchase as (name) watched kirishima play a phone game "so you're just building and adventuring?" (Name) Seemed intrigued but also deeply confused at the game "yeah, it's a sandbox game-- you can do basically anything"

"Are there animals?"

"Oh a bunch, they actually just updated the dogs so they have more variety"

"Show me"

"And how would he be able to afford it?" Mrs Bakugo said coldly and Aizawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes "U.A has offered (name) a full scholarship" Mr Bakugo seemed excited at this "really?!" The man seemed over the moon at this but his wife less thrilled "I told you to let him apply!" He said almost angrily and Aizawa looked between them "but the chances of katsu--"" you need one parents approval right?" He cut her off to look at Aizawa who nodded "then you have my approval"

"Masaru!" Mrs Bakugo said angrily and the man looked at her seriously "if we don't do this for our son, we will fail more than we already have"

"Kirishima, time to go" Aizawa said simply and looked at (name) "I expect to see you at U.A Monday with your things packed" the pro said and it took the teens a second to process it all before kirishima grinned at his boyfriend "Yo! We get to hang out all the time now!"

"I get to go?"

"Yup, now better pack, you got a week before you start, Nedzu wants a meeting first thing tomorrow"

"YOU GUYS ARENT GONNA BELEIVE THIS!" Kirishima shouted as he walked into the livingroom area and the others looked confused "my boyfriend got into U.A!" He boasted and Bakugo turned to look at his best friend confused "what." Bakugo said flatly and Kirishima grinned "yeah man! Your brother's gonna be in gen Ed!" Everyone looked at bakugos reaction curiously as many emotions passed his face before just grunting and turning back to his phone.

(Name)s week at home was tense with his mom but his dad always had his back, always making sure he was cared for and the parent who made an effort, he was (name)s rock.

"Just don't get in your brother's way"

Words he heard constantly up until his dad drove him to U.A, giving him an envelope with money "I'll be sending you weekly allowances... I know you have money of your own but that's your money, this is for any emergency things you need" he said softly and (name) took the envelope quietly "I'm sorry that I haven't been enough for you, I know I could do more"

"Mom's a hard person, I know you feel guilt but I know that she doesn't make it easy and you have been there when it counts and stuck up for me so I could be here... I love you dad"

"I love you too kid, now go be stronger than I am"

The two embraced before the man helped (name) get everything into his dorm, kirishima showing up to help "so you're the boy my son's seeing! A pleasure to meet you" (name) smiled as the two greeted and got along very well "yeah! I'm also bakubros best friend!" He said excitedly and Mr. Bakugo had a small sliver of hope that this young man could bridge the two siblings... It was wishful thinking but he always had hope.

Hope that somehow the relationship his wife ruined would be fixed.

(Name) Didn't sleep well the first night, awkward in the new environment and the sudden shift from what he was used to.

Tomorrow he would get an introduction course under Nedzu, the rat wanted to do some tests to truly know what level he was at to gauge where they should move towards education wise.

Things were awkward during lunch as (name) sat alone, everyone hearing about Nedzu's private student and avoided him as such but (name) just played chess on his little travel chess set in the corner, periodically eating his food.

He had an hour to kill, might as well look for any weaknesses in his plays.

"There you are!" (Name) Looked up to see his boyfriend and other 1A students who looked curiously "Aizawa said we got to have lunch at the same time!" The Bakugo siblings locked eyes and (name) offered a seat to his boyfriend who plopped beside him with a grin "so you play chess, what's that like?" The pink girl named Mina asked excitedly and (name) was shy as he responded "a lot of travelling, I been throughout Japan for openings" he said softly "how many have you won?" A blond boy named denki asked and (name) looked a little more confident "I haven't lost, so maybe 50, I have been playing professionally since I was 9"

"Whoa... What do you get if you win?" He asked and (name) thought "the U.A open won me about 100k... But that was the open to let me qualify to international opens but my dad worries I might be too young for that" he said simply and the others looked shocked at the price and did the math "damn you're rich"

Katsuki didn't know this, how many games his brother went to between school and such or how good he was at it, he didn't think about it much but now...

... He kind of felt envious that his best friend knew more about his brother than he did.

The bakusquad asked all sorts of questions throughout lunch and eventually a few more 1A students joined and Momo even planned a chess match between her and (name) for fun.

And for the first time, Katsuki saw his brother look genuinely happy talking to people, typically he didn't talk to people.

It was nice to see.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #kirishima x male reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #male reader #x male reader #angst #anime x male reader #anime x reader

[aaronsinferno]

'buck and tommy only had a one episode build up' no if they had a one episode build up that would be fine, tk and carlos were fucking within like an hour of meeting and i have no issue with that because they have an actually palpable instant attraction and connection rather than being thrown together randomly for shock value, their relationship actually developed really well after that, they're both very well developed characters, neither of them is significantly more invested in the relationship and their makeout scenes don't look like somebody frenching their dad lmao.

Regardless, the attraction between the two is real. They’re in a non speculative and canonically proven romantic relationship that’s been said to be healthy and will come off as a romcom. Just wanted to get that out of the way before I got into anything.

Evan and Tommy weren’t a slow burn. They didn’t see each other across a room and go “I’m gonna take you home later” or anything similar to that. It was just one guy unaware of his attraction towards another until the other guy in question made the first move. (Which was bold asf btw)

There’s no one way to jumpstart a relationship. Sometimes it’s taking a leap of faith and acknowledging your feelings in whatever way you can.

The kiss was always going to be shocking hence the uproar of homophobic outrage afterwards. If Evan, for whatever reason, kissed who you wanted him to kiss then I’m positively sure you’d still be pretty surprised that the kiss actually happened. A scenario that will live and die on the internet btw.

And you’re right to imply that Tommy isn’t a fully developed character. There’s still so much we don’t know about him. I’m assuming that if the writers want him around more, then not only will they build onto his character and background, but they’ll also build on his and Evan’s relationship.

I’m assuming the dad thing is you making fun of Lou’s age. I don’t have a problem with it. Unfortunately for you, though, neither does Evan. We’ve seen papa Buckley before, and I hate to say it, but Tommy doesn’t give that at all.

And I love Tk and Carlos, but using characters who have been sure and open about their sexuality since before their series began as a “gotcha” moment for Evan and Tommy is a bit odd. They know what they want and have experience identifying partners and forming relationships. Evan just came to realize that he’s bisexual. It’s new to him so it’s understandable if he’s not making moves like TK.

It’s a show. Let things fall into place. The story is still being told. Exhale.

#if it sounds like I’m rambling it’s because I am #bucktommy #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinkley #oliver stark #lou ferrigno jr #911 abc #911 season 7 #911edit

[thatonebirdwrites]

Favorite Korrasami Fics

I'll include word counts for those that want to start with shorter ones first.

At the end of this post, I'll drop a few of my own fics as an addendum for anyone interested. I like to think my work is good, but well, you'll have to read and let me know what you think. :) If any of you have recs for good Korrasami fics, feel free to drop it in the comments.

Bird's favorites:

Lovedeathcats's It Belongs In A Museum (186,403 words) This is an Indiana Jone-esque AU, where Asami Sato a professor seeks the long-lost Elements of Eternity, relics rumored to grant the power of the Avatar over the four elements to stop them from falling into wrong hands. Korra and Krew joins her on this adventure.

Lovedeathcat's Beneath the Surface (still ongoing as of today 5/13/2024 and currently at 67,231 words) Premise: Set in a Modern Day AU where bending is a hidden art. "When Asami accepts a job at an isolated, hidden boarding school, she finds more than she bargained for - as well as everything she's been searching for."

Shigan's Such Essential and Invisible Things series: * Stake in the Pond (3,158 words) * Bedrolls (4,120 words) * When Meelo Brought the Porn (6,443 words) * All These Tiny Moments (772 words)

Progman's Repairs, Retrofits, and Upgrades (part of the Spin Your Rails series). (220,963 words) *Note the series as a whole as seven works in it that range from 3k to 220k in length. The other stories sort of serve as gap fillers for the main series, and the series as a whole is fairly close to canon. (The comics do not filter into this series).

FuzziFox's South (Currently 185,235 words, though it is still being updated as of today 5/13/2024). Premise: what if when Asami asked if Korra wanted company going South, Korra said yes instead of no?

Islandofme's Korra, not alone (35,080 words) -- Premise: what if Asami came and visited Korra while Korra was recovering?

RainbowRosie's Restoring a Frozen World series *The Girl in the Iceberg (352,793 words) Premise: Asami Sato uncovers a girl frozen in an iceberg, who turns out to be Korra the Avatar. Set in a 1920s version of Avatarverse, where bending doesn't seem to exist anymore. *The Church of Raava (still being updated as of today 5/13/2024 and is currently at 58,977 words)

@asamiontop's Where the Snow Takes Us (283,139 words) Premise: Korra is a ski instructor and Asami is a student. They meet. (It's a very cute tale that takes place in a Modern AU.)

@korrasamibottles's Under Me, Over Me, Any Way You'll Have Me (5,098 words) Premise: Height difference shenanigans.

Vetofan's Balance of Power series, which dives into Korra not realizing she is the Avatar (growing up thinking she's a nonbender) but having to face all the same challenges while she figures out what to do about this newfound Avatar powers. While falling in love with Asami Sato. (Currently 289,062 words with five works, though the fifth work is still being updated as of 5/13/2024).

Paxbanana's Place In This World (303,813 words) -- sticks with canon and chronicles the period after the show ended.

Valkrez's A Second Glance series (186,877 words and five works) This is mostly canonical, and it chronicles the times between episodes. It's all about Korra and Asami's off and on again relationship until they finally get together at the end of the series (the last fic is them in the future after years of being together). This one is heavy on the smut.

mustangsgloves's Falling For You (13,977 words) Premise: the four times Korra ignored her feelings for Asami when sparring and the one time she doesn't.

Tempest (sniperct)'s The Avatar and the Inventor Series: * There's nine works in this series that range from 700 words to 82,000. I really loved the "A Thousand Ways to Love A Woman the most), but all the fics are good in their own ways.

GallifreyanFairytale's with every drop of rain, singing (i love you) (1,385 words) -- it's a cute one-shot of a rainy day.

wegglebots's The Engineer's Guide to Dating the Avatar (17,989 words) -- it's just an adorable collection of ficlets that are extra silly and details Korra and Asami's relationship.

gayestcatra's The Path to You Series (2 works that total 194,288 words) It is canon-compliant, and just tells the story of how Korra and Asami fell in love. Includes the events of Turf Wars too.

Just_Addie's Uncivil Wars (3 works that total 88,737 words) Premise: The Winter Soldier but set in the Avatarverse.

The Road Trip Universe has a bunch of fics by the following authors: BarbWireThong, L2_BBOC, lanagotconed20, OccasionalWriterHD, Volchise. It's a modern day AU. (34 works that total 190,809 words. Each fic various in word count from 747 words to 36k words)

SifuTurtz's The Calm Before the Storm (2,978 words) A canonical fic that takes place the night before Kuvira's army reaches Republic City.

ADDENDUM:

My works:

Korrasami Adventures Series (All works in this series are canon-compliant) *How Was Those Three Years (21,397 words) Premise: How Asami handles those three years without Korra. *Spirit World Vacation (currently on hiatus but will finish soon, at 20,769 as of 5/13/2024). *Asami's Hidden Box of Poetry's And Letters ( 2,274 words ) -- a short, completed fic that's just fluff of our two favorite gals. *Is This a Romance? (14,411 words ) -- a silly retelling of the Asami's attempts to date the Avatar and the three year gap from Asami's perspective.

Shared Moments Series (Currently 6 works totalling about 960,009 words)-- this is canonical through Book 1.5. *Book 2 is my rewrite. Civil War turns into a World War, and Korrasami happens by end of Book 2. *Book 2.5 covers the aftermath of the World War in Book 2. *Book 3 is canon-adjacent as in same villains with similar plot beats. It has the repercussions of my Book 2 and 2.5 cascading through it. *Book 3.5 is my current project and I'm still updating as of today 5/13/2024. It sets the stage for Korra and Asami's healing journey, Bolin spy shenanigans, Blue Spirit Rises Again, and Earth Kingdom Civil War. *Book 4 and 5 are in note stage still. These two books will detail the repercussion of all prior books, the Second World War, and its Aftermath.

Enjoy!

#korrasami #legend of korra #the legend of korra #tlok #asami sato #avatar korra #writing #fic recs #fic recommendation #my works #my fics #ao3 fanfic

[iron-strangers]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Description: It's all true, Jedi can read minds. You've been trained to keep people's thoughts about you for so long. It went well until the day you caught Din's fantasy involving you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Series: Expanding Clan Mudhorn

Tags: Established Relationships, Mand’alor Din Djarin, A Sprinkle of Family Fluff, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (f receiving), Unprotected p-in-v, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Lactation Kink

CW: Reader has AFAB characterization, uses she/her pronouns, is able-bodied, has depicted body changes related to pregnancy and breastfeeding, and hair that can be pulled during sex. No Use of Y/N. Consent Issues: Reader peaks into Din's fantasy. NSFW MINORS DNI

Length: 2.7k

-

According to urban legends, jedi can read minds. That's true, well, to an extent.

Jedi can read unshielded minds. A Jedi’s mental shield helps to prevent their minds so they’re not easily read, but also to prevent them from accidentally reading a non-force sensitive’s mind. This knowledge helped you survive being chased around the galaxy during the Empire’s reign. Imps are weak-minded and you could easily get any information you needed by reading their mind.

As you grew older, some thoughts people had about you turned sexual. Some got you blushing, like the one from a spacer who fantasized about sweet-talking you into having a quickie in the back of the cantina, some others were just plain disturbing and had you slamming a mental shield as quick as you can before fleeing the parameter with your blaster clutched in your hand.

During the old Jedi-Mandalorian war era, Mando'ade have found a way to keep the jetiise out of their head. Beskar helmets are effective for as long as you can remember, but apparently, there's a loophole. Beskar can't block a jedi who's already soul-bonded to a Mandalorian. There might not be any data about this, but let's be real, there's barely any noted soul bonds between a jedi and Mandalorian throughout history.

This explains the weird sync you and Din have. People have mentioned how you complete each other, that you have almost the same opinions on things, how you two always make the same decisions, both politically and on the battlefield. Some might even suggest that you and him finish each other's sentences. It's a cliché, written in teenager’s holonovels. So you're used to laughing it off, deflecting that you probably just spent too much time together, that between leading and parenting, agreeing on the same thing is just what spouses do. The Armorer called you ‘two halves of one warrior’ at your wedding ceremony. It should’ve ring an alarm in your mind, but in your defense, you were too busy getting swooned off your feet.

It became apparent one day when you met him in a small bakery, just a few minutes away from the Keldabe Palace, when he wasn’t supposed to be done until much later in the day. You’ve been craving Keshian Spice Rolls all day and you figured it was a great day to take the kids out, enjoy the sun and a little sweet treats, then surprise your hard-working riduur with a box of pastries back in the palace. Imagine your surprise when you stepped into a bakery and saw him already queuing.

“Rid’ika!” He called, waving to you from the line. You skipped over the lines, smiling and nodding to everyone as you made your way to your riduur. Din took Grogu from you so you can lift Aranar, who’s busy charming everyone off with his toothy grin, up.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, holding his offered hand. “You have to meet the Prince of Bespin in half an hour.”

“I know, but I heard they are baking Keshian Spice Rolls. So I went to buy you some.” Din shrugged, not once caring about the Prince having to wait for him to get back from spoiling his riduur. “And what about you? I thought you have a bes'kad class for the verd’ike this afternoon.”

“The class won’t start for another two hours and I really want a spice roll.”

You heard people behind you aww-ing and you buried your face into his shoulder, humming when you feel cool beskar against your blushing cheek. Din smiled behind his helmet, paying for three spice rolls to go, never once he let your hand go. You got back to the palace with twenty minutes to spare and herded the ad’ike to the Mand’alor’s office.

“Knock when you need him and don’t come in before I answer.” You rushed into the room when you spotted Kryze marching to stop you.

“You two better not be having se-”

“Young ears, Kryze! Manda, we’re just gonna eat Spice Rolls!” You held the pastry packages up for her to see, holding your laughter when you saw her scowling.

“Spice rolls better not be a code for something else, Djarin! You have a meeting in twenty minutes!”

Din closed the door on her face and you locked it with the force for good measure before dissolving into giggles. Din lifted his helmet up and immediately pressed a longing kiss to your lips. The kiss was uncoordinated since the two of you couldn’t stop grinning. The kiss, and the pastries were heavenly, Grogu and Aranar shared a piece, for your peace of mind. After all, it was you who had to wrangle two sugar-high toddlers in the training yard as you teach advanced sword techniques to a group of heavily armed teenagers who happened to be Mandalore's newly sworn warriors.

The impending knock finally came and you shared another sugary sweet kisses with your riduur before you put his helmet back on and sent him away to his duty. The door was barely closed when you were hit with realization.

Fuck, you thought. We’re soul-bonded.

**

Overall, there are worse people to be soul-bonded with. Having one with your own riduur is not a bad thing at all. Having one with your riduur without any source to soul-bond knowledge, however, is another piece of work. Putting a mental shield up against your own riduur feels wrong but you do it anyway, respecting his privacy to his own mind.

Until today.

Today, you feel a gentle nudge at your brick wall of a mental shield, laced with Din's warm force presence. You could've brushed him off and shielded yourself better, but you thought to yourself that a small peak wouldn't be bad.

You're wrong. Oh, you're so wrong because it's bad. Your hand directly flies towards your mouth and you try to stifle a moan as a yawn.

In his fantasy, Din had you bent over the meeting table and he's pounding into you. He has his hand on the small of your back, pressing you down to the table. You're completely naked against the table, pinned beneath the beskar of his armor. You can hear the filthy sound of his cock ramming into your sopping cunt. Din grabs a fistful of your hair, making you cry his name out loud, losing yourself to the stretch and the hard thrusts of Din's cock.

“Oh fuck-” you grit your teeth, clenching your fist on your thigh. You sit there, stunned, breathless, unable to stop watching.

“Can you feel how good this pussy stretches around me, rid’ika?” Din grunts, holding you so close to his hips while his fingers reach down, rubbing your swollen clit. “Such a good girl, do you wanna cum, mesh'la? Wanna soak my cock and make me give you another ik’aad?”

Maker, yes! You thought, trying your damn hardest not to whine while the version of you in his mind is whimpering and begging him to make you cum. Din leans to your ear, telling you to come. You’re shuddering in his arm, moaning his name in a punched out noise with a telltale sign of orgasm, and you snap yourself out of his imagination.

You put your strongest mental shield up and you lean to the plush seat, blinking and looking around the room as you settle yourself back to reality. Din is sitting on the head of the table, looking over his own datapad as he watches a member of his council talk about Mandalore’s quarterly budget report. If you didn’t know better, you’d think your riduur is actively listening to the report instead of daydreaming about fucking you over this very table.

You tread carefully when you're back home. You put Aranar and Grogu to sleep late, making sure they are a little bit more tired than usual so they sleep soundly later tonight. Once the kids are out like lights, you take the baby monitor with you and change into one of Din’s loose shirts.

You find him still seated on the dining table, tapping things into his datapad. You smirk to yourself, walking towards him and leaning over the dining table to take your own datapad that you could easily reach if you make an extra trip to the end of the table. Din can't stop staring, making no move to help you, instead he stands up from the chair and moves to cup the swell of your ass, just like how he imagined before.

“Careful, rid’ika, you don't know what kinda game you're playing here.”

You whine when his hand moves underneath the shirt, trailing up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He whispers praises to your ear, biting down your jaw and your neck.

“Fuck, look at you, mesh'la, you're expecting this, huh?” He lifts the shirt up, revealing nothing underneath other than your glistening cunt. “I haven't even done anything, rid'ika, and this pretty pussy's already all wet for me.”

You moan softly when his fingers find your clit, rubbing on it as you shudder in his arms. Din sinks two fingers into your wet heat and he groans when he feels how wet you are. He thumbs on your clit as he keeps pumping in and out of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over his fingers and your inner thighs until you shake beneath him, then he pulls off of you.

“No, cyare please, I'm so close- Ah!” You cry as his fingers leave you, only to moan loudly when he kneels behind you and he slaps your soaked pussy.

“Needy girl,” he teases, slapping your clit again, ignoring your cries. He parts your folds with his tongue until his smart mouth finds your clit and he starts sucking on the sensitive nub. You grip the edge of the table tightly as you grind against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lower face. Din tuts, holding your hips in place, chuckling when he sees your hole clenches around nothing.

“You know what you get for being such a good girl, cyar’ika?” Din asks, his fingers are back on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerve in a tight circle as you buck violently against his fingers. “Good girl gets to come on my face.”

His lips are back on you, kissing, lapping, and sucking until you're a whimpering mess. You let out a high pitched whine and you come on his mouth, flooding him with your arousal as he keeps on sucking on your lips as you ride your orgasm.

Din grabs your chin towards him and he kisses you hard, his lips are glistening with the mixture of your cum and his spit and you can taste yourself on the tip of his tongue. Din pulls off of you and he turns you around, lifting you up to the edge of the table. He lays you down and he parts your legs with a steady hand on your inner thigh, keeping them apart so he can admire his hard work, your drenched cunt glistening with your sweet come. Din groans then he spits on your cunt, adding to the mess before smearing everything around with the thick head of his cock. He's painfully hard, his foreskin is pulled all the way back, revealing the flared tip, steadily leaking precum all over you. He lines himself up with your entrance and fucks all the way into you in one push. You watch as his thick cock stretches your hole, feeling yourself clinging to his girth, fluttering around him as you struggle to take his size. Both of you moan when he finally buries himself deep inside you, still holding tight to each other.

“Maker, been thinking about this sweet pussy all day.”

Oh, I know. You thought. “Yeah? Did you think about fucking me, ner riduur? Thought about how my pussy clenches around your cock? Did you think about filling me up with your cum until I'm swollen with your adi'ka?” You taunt him, circling your legs on his hips to keep him buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” Din swears, hissing while he steadily leaks precum all over your wet heat, leaning his head to yours and rutting deep against your sweet spot. “You're playing with fire, rid'ika. Can't just say things like that.”

“But I want you to,” you beg, moaning wantonly when he starts pumping in and out of you. “Want you to keep fucking me until I'm so full and swollen with your baby.”

Din growls, pounding deep into you with punishing pace. He's watching you, watching your cunt swallowing his cock, watching your face grow slack with pleasure. You slip your hands under the shirt, covering your breast and squeezing them, making your milk leak until there's a wet patch over the shirt.

“Filthy girl,” Din grunts, pawing on the piece of clothing. “Lift it up baby, let me see.”

You lift the shirt up, revealing your breasts for him, shiny from both milk and sweat. Beads of your milk trickling from your nipples, leaking steadily as he fucks into you. He slips one engorged nipple to his mouth, sucking until he can taste you on his tongue while his fingers play with the abandoned one, rubbing and squeezing, spraying him with milk.

“Everything about you is just so sweet, rid'ika, my perfect girl.” He praises. He licks your nipple clean before switching to the other side, pressing open mouthed kisses before bringing the sensitive buds to his mouth and sucking on it, drinking you until he's full while his hand loves on the other one. His cock never stops pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer with each snaps of his hips.

He folds your legs into a mating press, tucking your knees against your chest and his cock is so deep inside you. So deep he reaches your cervix, kissing your womb with his tip. You clench hard around his length, your wall seizes violently around him, milking him irresistibly as he keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars, begging him to please, never stop. You're wailing as your whole body shakes, tipping your head back and moaning Din's name so loud he has to cover your mouth with his palm, worried the filthy noises of the snap of his balls slapping your ass, your loud moans, and the squelching sound of your wet pussy might wake the sleeping kids up.

With a shaky shudder, you come down from your high, whining as Din keeps fucking you, chasing his own orgasm. After a few brutal thrust, your riduur groans loudly, shouting punched out moans as he peaks. His cock twitches in your soaked, messy cunt, filling you with his hot cum, flooding your insides and claiming you his. He kisses your lips, muffling both your moans, only parting to plant another kiss to your temple while he pumps you full of his cum, murmuring sweet, loving praises and filthy promises to you.

“That's a good girl, rid'ika. Take it, baby, gonna get you all round and pregnant. That's what you want, right? Want to give me another? Want to be bred all over again?”

Din keeps rutting with you until you both shake from overstimulation and he gently pulls out of you. He admires your blissed, fucked out face, trailing soft kisses down your jaw and your neck, sucking his marks all over your body. You tip his jaw up and catch his lips in another kiss, laced with a content smile, before breaking away to whisper sweet I love yous to each other.

Din gathers you in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and lowering you gently into your shared bed. He leaves for the fresher, fetching a damp rag to clean you up before slipping into his side of bed beside you. He pulls you close, kissing your lips lovingly and rearranges the covers, tucking you into his arms.

“You're my dream girl, you know that right?”

“I tried,” you smile contently, caressing the scruff of his jaw softly.

“You don't have to,” Din mutters, humming when you snuggle closer to him, pressing your heartbeat over his. “You're perfect just the way you are.”

You exchange more kisses, lazily making out in bed until sleep takes over, safely nestled in each other's arms.

About a few weeks later, you start to feel the tiniest flutter in the force.

#expending clan mudhorn #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin imagine #pedro boys #pedro pascal fic #star wars #star wars fanfiction

[minisugakoobies]

I Know | KSY

Pairing: Hoshi x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, established relationship, dancer!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: drunk hoshi, grumpy woozi, hoshi is absolutely whipped for reader, this is honestly just very soft and sweet!

Word Count: 816

Disclaimers: none, other than I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Even when he's passed-out drunk, Hoshi still manages to amaze you with his love.

Text Prompt: boyfriend texted me "my love I am intoxicated" and then five minutes later, his best friend sends me a photo of him, passed out, phone in hand, and zoomed in on one of my selfies - tweet from himbowithnofear

A/N: I'm back with another installment of my "texts from svt" series. At some point I'll make a masterlist, but for now, please enjoy this short lil' fic about my favorite affectionate drunk, Hoshi. Fun fact, I've actually had this one finished for a while, but couldn't resist posting Mingyu first!

Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Please come get your man.”

Jihoon’s grumpy request is the first thing you hear when you answer your phone. 

“Hey, Jihoon, how are you?” you laugh, unsurprised by his opening plea. Ten minutes ago, you’d received the following message from your boyfriend:

LOML: my love, i am  intoxicatedd

And had been waiting to hear from Jihoon ever since. Though you were a little surprised that he was video calling you instead of just calling or texting.

“To be honest with you, I’m not great right now. And it’s all your boyfriend’s fault.” 

You can’t help but laugh loudly. Jihoon scowls. 

“Why are you upset with Soonyoung? I thought you guys were celebrating tonight.” 

“Because.” Jihoon flips the camera. There’s your man, all 178 cm of him, snoring his ass off in the corner booth. “He’s driving the other customers out of my bar.”

If you’re being honest, you’d been expecting this moment long before Jihoon called you. Soonyoung had gone out for drinks with several of his friends to celebrate one of them getting a new job, and you knew your lightweight boyfriend would feel compelled to try to keep up with those lushes as always. Not at their insistence, but out of his own desire. It was a point of pride for him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m on my way.” 

“Thank you. Please hurry.” Jihoon winces. “I know he calls himself a tiger, but he really snores like a damn bear.” 

You laugh again, about to disconnect, when Jihoon makes a sudden noise of delight. 

“Hold on,” he chuckles, and the screen zooms in on the phone still clutched in Soonyoung’s hand. “Do you see that?” 

It’s you looking back at you. From a photo, one that you recognize immediately as one of Soonyoung’s self-proclaimed favorites, from the weekend you’d spent at the beach last summer. It’s actually a wide shot of you standing in front of a gorgeous sunset, soft pink light dancing on your skin, and that knowledge makes you smile right now. Because it means that your drunk sap of a boyfriend zoomed in on your face, right before he passed out. Probably to dream about you. 

Soonyoung never did anything by halves. Not dancing. Not drinking. 

And definitely not loving you.  

“Come get your simp.” With a grin, Jihoon disconnects.

Tossing your phone into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie of Soonyoung’s that you’re wearing, you grab your keys and head for the door. 

It’s not a long drive to the bar. Inside, you make a beeline for the booth in the back, familiar with the space around you. It’s basically your second home, between being best friends with the owner, and dating (though he’d never admit it) his favorite patron. And, speak of the devil, there he is, the love of your life, head on the table, mouth open, rattling the glasses on the table with his powerful exhalations. 

Something else Soonyoung doesn’t do by halves - sleeping.

Jihoon nods at you from across the bar. All of Soonyoung’s other friends are nowhere to be found, likely having gone home once Jihoon reassured them you were on your way. 

Ignoring the common advice regarding sleeping tigers, you slide onto the bench and gently lay your hand on Soonyoung’s back to shake him awake. 

“Soonyoungieeeee, time to get up,” you trill sweetly into his ear, brushing his dark hair out of his face.

He cracks an eye open. “Baby?” he asks groggily. “Is it time to go to work?” 

“No, dingdong, it’s Saturday. And you’re at Jihoon’s, remember?” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung sits up, looks around. “Right. Oh!” His eyes get wide. “Baby! Those hyungs got me soooo drunk!” 

Laughing, you brush some chip crumbs off his cheek. “I know, ‘youngie.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung’s eyes slip unfocused as he smiles. “Wait. You weren’t here and now you are.” He hiccups himself into a confused frown. “Why are you here?” 

“To take you home, dingdong.” Running your fingers through his hair again, you grin. 

Soonyoung looks at you and you swear you see his pupils turn into hearts. “You’re taking me home? With you? To your home?” 

You shake your head, gently tugging his beanie down over his ears. “How many shots did they make you take? Yes, you’re coming with me. To our apartment, where we both live.”

“We live together!” Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind his cheeks as he grins. “You love me!” 

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, yanking on his arm to get him onto his feet. He wobbles slightly, so you duck under his arm, trying to steady him, but he interprets this in another way, cupping your face to pull you in for a slightly clumsy but rather passionate kiss. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers, nose bumping repeatedly into your cheek as you start to lead him towards the exit. 

“I know, ‘youngie,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I know.” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #svt fluff #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung x you #hoshi fanfic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #soonyoung fanfic #fic: i know #hoshi

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirty-Four

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Apologies for the wait. Life hasn't slowed down for me at all. As soon as I was finally in a good place physically and mentally, I got into a car accident. I'm okay. I didn't get hurt, and neither did the other person, but my car was totaled. I've been dealing with the insurance, and the head of household on the insurance could have been better in assisting me. It has not been fun. As always, thank you for your patience, and happy reading!

Chapter Warnings: drugging, mentions of miscarriage, Ser Criston Cole, we have an unhealthy relationship w/ our father.

The world around you was peaceful as you sank further into the throes of poppy milk. Candles softly hummed with the drafts that swept through the Keep, wood settled, and the fire within the hearth cracked. You did not have to think or feel anything other than the tincture slowly seeping into your marrow. Everything was calm and serene as your eyelids hung low, the orange glow of the flames blurry in your eyesight.

Jeyne sat on one of the lavish armchairs, a needle, and thread in her fist as she hemmed one of the summer dresses she had been putting off. You watched as her wrinkled hands worked, following the pattern of a blind hem stitch as she pulled the thread up and down in a hypnotic, steady rhythm. The shadows danced across her fingers with each tug, pulling you further and further into a deep trance.

Your cramps became a dull thudding in your back due to the milk, but the bleeding hadn't stopped, soaking through layers of fabric and onto your fresh bed sheets. Maester Orwyle warned that you would continue passing clots in the coming days and recommended that, along with wearing thicker, small clothes, you apply heat to your back and abdomen until the pain is gone. You chuckled at the thought, finding it ironic that the only remedies a man of medicine had were things your mother taught you, but followed them nevertheless.

Hours passed into the night, the wolf's hour gradually approaching, yet you never slept a wink. It was as if you were in a realm between the unconscious and conscious mind, awake yet unaware simultaneously. Jeyne had fallen victim to her body despite being ordered to keep watch. Her head hung low, and her chin tucked into her rising chest as she snored.

It was uncertain when your body came back to life. Your eyes opened as you scanned the dim room around you. The wind whistled into the night as you gazed out an iron-paned window, mouth thick. It felt like a thousand tiny insects crawled within your skin, tickling your muscles and sending shivers up your spine. The sensation is unwelcomed but not unpleasant, causing you to rise from your warm blankets and pace across your chambers.

You stumbled at first, knees crashing into the stone floor with a dull thud. Quickly, your head snapped to Jeyne, ears rushing with blood at the abrupt movement. Thank the Seven, the maid was still fast asleep, undisturbed by your grunts and hisses as you rose to unsteady feet again.

The floor ebbed and waved in your vision, your bones feeling like marble, vibrating with every step you took as you searched the plethora of the Maester's supplies for water, downing it in one greedy gulp. The world around you was still calm, a hue of yellow blanketing across your chambers as you listened to your audible breaths.

Longing pulled at your soul as your eyes fell upon your rumpled sheets. It reminded you of times not so long ago when you shared unbridled intimacy with the one you loved, a wistful smile on your chapped lips as you replayed the moments in your mind's eye. You couldn't understand why Alicent chose now to tear Aegon away from you. Could she not see the good you brought with him? Why did she not stop it sooner if she did not want you to grow as close to him as you had? Was the Queen indeed so cruel that she would tear away her son's only source of happiness simply because it no longer benefited her?

Alicent had created an impenetrable bond between two souls and now sought to destroy it, but oaths made of loyalty and love were hard to sever.

You were sure guards were posted outside your doors to stop you or Aegon from seeking one another, and the thought caused you to grimace. There were other ways to see each other, and you prayed that the Queen had not been wise enough to bar both. You did not desire to cause fuss or quarrels.

You needed to see him. That's all it was.

Gradually, you made your way to one of the numerous secret passages in the Keep, unbothered with the state of your being. No shoes nor gown covering was worn as your bare feet pattered over the dank passages. Though you did not emit your goal aloud, your muscles understood where to go as if the string of fate connecting two lovers' souls, bound together like the hands of marriage, pulled you toward one another. Shuffling your naked soles across the dirt-ridden path, you knew the way to Aegon's wing like the skills of the sword, not requiring a light as you advanced.

There was not a pathway directly to his chamber, or at least not one he or you had found, but thankfully, a small portion of the trek was a less traveled corridor until you reached Aegon's room.

Your sanity retreated, imagining joyful days filled with the sun's blinding rays atop Cannibal, the wind caressing your cheeks. The sticky, viscous sensation of blood running down your thighs was not a thought as those memories replayed, your limbs moving on their own.

The tender, yellow glow of torchlight came into view, reeling your body back into consciousness as the silhouette of a guard appeared. Ser Erryk caught you before you did him, rooted into his post, as he observed your shuffled gait with a curious expression. The smeared blood trail behind you caused his brows to arch in concern as you approached, the scent of smoke and something floral wafting in the air around you.

"Princess," Ser Erryk exclaimed, allowing himself to move a few paces forward. "You mustn't be here. The Queen said you were abed."

Giggling, you stopped before him, amused at the notion that the same person who forced milk of the poppy down your throat was concerned for your health. "Is that what she said?" you jeered halfheartedly. "I am confident that is not the only thing she expressed, as you are not immediately allowing me past those doors."

Your tongue felt like lead as you spoke, forcing your clouded mind to think twice as hard to get the words out.

Erryk stiffened, armor clanking in anxiety as he threw swift glances to the sides. His lips scrunched with indecision, battling an internal war with duty and compassion as you sway to the rhythm of your slowly beating heart.

"You are not permitted to see Prince Aegon, by her majesty's order, and he you," he admitted with a noiseless sigh as if this was as difficult for him as it was for you. You flashed the knight a countenance of pity, understanding the humanity within him conflicted with the soldier, fighting to be free. 

"Did she tell you what happened, Ser Erryk?" you questioned airily, your eyelids suddenly becoming increasingly heavy. With all your might, you hoped that your words would sway him, quickly sparing a glance down the path of your essence.

"His Highness explained to me the attack on your life and that my brother was sent to the Black Cells for failure of duty," he admitted. You could feel the pointed way his words meant, angered at what he felt was an injustice for Ser Arryk.

"He's imprisoned?" you asked, face wrinkled with worry. "I will see at once that he is back in his bed. Your brother was upset with me, but he did nothing wrong."

You could not feel the concern that you indeed should in a situation like this—an innocent man punished for someone else's sins. You could not feel anything except for the serenity that blanketed your being. You wished you could always be like this. Eternally calm, incapable of anxiety, anger, or sadness, and in the back of your mind, it worried you.

"Thank you, Princess," Erryk bowed, his back ramrod straight. "Prince Aegon confided the attempt on your life and the consequences of it. The death of a child is something more profound than any knight could endure. You have my condolences."

Your breath hitched, lashes fluttering. The memory of your agony, the cramping, the blood, the screams of a babe torn from their mother's womb echoed in your skull like an agonizing symphony. You focused on your steady pulse, pulling yourself back under the comforting spell of the poppy.

For just a while longer, you did not want to feel.

"Then you understand why I must see Aegon." Your declarations were too sober for one under the influence, and your nose began to itch, disarming Erryk as his internal war raged. "I have yet to experience the comfort of grief in the company of a loved one, Ser. The Queen took that from me," you voiced, your words becoming unsteady and rambled. "I am alone in this place. I do not have a mother or father from whom I can seek guidance. I have no true friends. Only political allies surround themselves with me because of obligation. I have Aegon, and that is it."

The confession slipped past your lips before you realized your voice was speaking, mouth thick with unobstructed emotion. "So, please, Ser. I pray you. Allow me to see him."

The battle between warrior and compassion ended, the goodness within Ser Erryk prevailing over duty as he pursed his lips, a sheen in his eye. You realized that was the difference between the two brothers, and perhaps you aligned yourself with the wrong choice. One was bound to serve the realm with a blind eye, not questioning commands no matter their inhumane contents under the guise of duty. The other was as much a devout servant to those he followed, yet he allowed his conscience to guide him in his actions instead of unseeing obedience.

You could feel the blood collecting at your feet, seeping into the cracks of the flagstone floor and staining the hem of your nightdress. It was as if Erryk could sense it too, blue orbs flicking down to the small crimson puddle on the ground, swallowing audibly as the groaning walls creaked in the silence. He opened the stalwart oak doors to Aegon's chamber, wordlessly bidding you in. You sent him a grateful look as you entered, promising to yourself that you would not let the milk of the poppy make you forget his kindness.

Aegon's bed chamber was unlit except for a handful of half-melted candles scattered haphazardly about the area, emitting a subtle yellow glow to the miscellaneous items discarded on the floor. Your lover was not in his usual spot, draped lazily on his sheets like a stretched cat, nor was he at the lavish furniture in front of the crackling fire. It wasn't until you heard the telltale sounds of hiccuping breath, a loud sniff, and a bone-shuddering sob that you turned.

Aegon stood in the same attire you recalled at the farthest corner of his room on the full-length windowsill. His back faced you, still unaware of another person in his chambers. A decorative glass wine decanter was within his grasp, taking large swigs of the reddish liquid as his body swayed on the ledge.

Though your reason clouded with a thick mist, muscles heavy with each movement, a rush of panic went through you as a harsh draft of the frigid night air nearly threw Aegon off balance before he righted himself.

"Raqnon?" (love), you called out into the darkness, toes catching on a rumpled pile of clothes as you stumbled towards him.

Aegon's cropped hair spun with him as he fell to his knees on the stone floor with a yelp, the glass decanter shattering. He mumbled something you couldn't decipher as you approached him with tentative movements, careful not to pierce yourself on any scattered pieces. You attempted to kneel before Aegon, but he stopped you with the wave of his hand.

"You-" he stuttered breathlessly, attempting to stand on drunk legs, "you should be resting. Get on the bed."

You could not deny the rush his command inspired and did not protest as you went, sitting on the edge and observing how Aegon stumbled over pieces of crystal with a concern scrunch to your brow. "You've been drinking," you stated rather than asked. You knew the answer, the clues evident that even the most inept of individuals could see. You wanted to hear him admit it aloud. "I thought you were limiting your consumption?"

Aegon's eyes met yours, a shimmering pool of amethyst within exhausted, sunken holes of indigo. You were sure you looked no better with a sallow hue due to the blood loss. They were both mirror reflections of each other's internal emotions.

"I think," he began, limbs tangled and gait like a newborn colt, "this situation allows me to have a little drink."

Your nose itched. A pesky little sign that tears were about to flow as you lowered your gaze to the small crimson stain on your nightdress. There was no reply to the prince, no words that would convince Aegon to take this situation more seriously than his mind would allow, and so you let the briny rivers flow, timidly nodding in acquiescence.

The profound feeling of failure mixed with dread crept its claws up your back, its fingers like knives as an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and lassitude tugged at your heart until it could no longer beat.

All that work and what did it get you... All the sacrifices you made, prioritizing the future of a realm that will not remember you two hundred years from now when the Targaryen legacy no longer has its hold over the land. What have you done but give your life— your body in service of your House? And what did you have to show for it? An immature prince who does not know how to cope without the aid of firewater. The overwhelming fear of the hereafter pulled you into an abyss you could not escape.

How would your father react to this? Your mother? Both would be distraught beyond comprehension, each showing it in varying ways. Daemon was always quick to anger and thirsted for bloodshed, acting with sharp words and swift blows with the sword rather than Rhaenyra, who had a matching fury but whose wrath and memory knew no bounds. You fretted for those who would fall victim.

Abruptly, Aegon's moonlight hair came into view. His arms trapped your lower legs in an iron embrace, and his forehead burrowed between your thighs.

"This is my doing. I left you alone after I vowed never to leave your side... to protect you," Aegon sobbed, tears staining the white fabric of your skirt.

"Do not be foolish," you retorted more harshly than intended as your hand instinctively went to his crown. "You seek to make it your fault within the confines of your own mind because you cannot fathom anything bad would happen unless it was influenced by you–because you think so lowly of yourself–because you have been told every waking moment of your life that something was not good enough because of you."

You could no longer retain your inner thoughts of Aegon's psyche and who helped influence him to be in such a way. You almost died, and you did not want to spend another moment keeping them within.

"The figures in your life that were supposed to guide you, shape you, nurture you failed tremendously, and yet they blame you for their shortcomings." You took Aegon by the sides of his head, forcing his bleary eyes to meet your focused ones, trying to impress the seriousness of your words. "It is not your fault."

The prince choked, mouth thick with excess saliva and mucus as he tried to speak. "I know it's not."

He did not know what you meant. Was it for something specific? Was it your poisoning and losing your child? Was it because of the heartache and shame he caused people? His actions and coping mechanisms? Or was it for anything and everything he forced himself to bear the conscience of?

You did not believe him, and the confession came too quickly to have entirely made an impact. "No, Aegon. It is not your fault."

"I know." He stared, lips tucked into a stiff pout, and attempted to pull away and gaze anywhere but you.

"Look at me, issa raqnon," (my love) you softly commanded, your voice tender and kinder than he had ever heard. His mouth twitched, glassy, and ametrine slowly dragged up your arm, chest, shoulder, neck, and face. "It is not your fault."

Aegon balked, light-colored lashes blinking as your words finally struck through the two decades of mental fortresses created by harsh words, unrealistic expectations, and emotionless love like a battering ram to the sturdy oak doors of the mud gate.

"Please," he whispered, for what he did not know. Perhaps a last-moment plea to halt the forthcoming emotions and memories he kept numbed and buried deep within wine, women, and gambling.

Nevertheless, Aegon's effort proved fruitless as a cry akin to a howl tore through his vocal cords, ripping his marred soul bare for you to finally see. He pressed his cheek into your stomach, ignoring the pang of discomfort that rolled through you as he wept as if he were a babe. You cradled him to you, stroking his matted silver strands as you rocked him with the other, your self-gratifying way to help ease your nerves.

It reminded you of your time in the Godswood underneath the heart tree, where Aegon laid his soul unyielding to allow you both to become one finally. Those stolen moments seemed like a lifetime ago, but much happened between then and now to lead you to this moment.

You were grateful that your love was finally actualized and did not regret a single moment spent together from when Ser Arryk discovered your affair to the present attempt on your life and the successful one of another. You had no choice but to feel again, despite your best efforts, nails scraping Aegon's scalp as the milk of the poppy waned, replacing the hollow loss with unfelt grief.

It was almost as if the pregnancy did not exist, and to those not within your chambers at that time, it didn't. There were no signs, cravings, missed moon blood, or weight gain in areas typical to term. To all who did not see you pass the blood clots with their own eyes, you had no reason to mourn. You could not get the image of your child torn from your womb, your skin, muscle, and innards tossed aside in search of something you did not know you carried out of your head, the screams of you and your child melding into one.

"Here I am, crying in a puddle of my own self pity when you are bleeding from your womb," Aegon sniveled, pulling away and rising onto one knee.

He placed a sticky palm over the affected area, your face crumpling with emotion. "That is not you speaking, dōnus taobus," (sweet boy). "We both hurt immeasurably today and in the past. We must mourn for what happened and what could have been," you replied, placing your hand over his.

Aegon's fingers dragged from your stomach, over your breasts, and onto your jaw, gingerly stroking your lower lip, brows scrunched in thought. He did not speak, letting an already wandering mind fester as his gaze studied the moist area.

"Do you believe in the tales of Old Valyria?" Aegon asked unprompted. "About the dragon gods bestowing dreams on people they deemed worthy?"

You nodded noiselessly, confused yet eager to know what he had to say as Aegon kept his gaze fixed on your mouth, slowly stroking the area. "I believe all cultures have their own belief systems, and one can be as valid as any. After all, it was Daenys the Dreamer who allowed us to live here today."

"Always the diplomat," the prince chortled, eyes crinkling with bittersweet mirth. "I believe Helaena is one of them," he said thoughtfully. "She has always said peculiar things–things I never paid much attention to until now."

You stared at Aegon in befuddlement, raising a brow as he continued his thoughts. "She said that you will grow old in love with me, that our union will be of love, and that the children will adore you as if you are their mother. That the dragon has three heads and that Aegon spent ten nights with Rhaenys for every one he spent with Visenya, but I will spend every night with you," he rambled, desperate to get the sentences plaguing his mind out.

It was a pleasant idea that sent heat to your ears to imagine that one day you would wed Aegon and no longer have to hide your love, but you knew it to be untrue. You were a bastard, and he was a married, true-born son of the king. Not only would it be against the law, but sin in the eyes of the Faith for one man to take two wives. It could fracture the relationship between the crown and the Citadel, and you did not wish for history to repeat itself.

Suddenly, a distant memory, one you had not thought of since it happened, appeared in your mind's eye. The confession took you back in time to the moment of Aegon's nameday feast, where you recalled bathed in glittering gold, loud, upbeat orchestral music, and the words, a sacrifice of her blood, peace reborn, chanting over and over in your head.

Aegon could see your thoughts etched into the worried wrinkles of your face, standing to his full height as he gave one final swipe across your moist lip. He ordered you wordlessly with the brush of your loose strands of hair out of your face to lay back onto his mountain of throw pillows. Swallowing tears, you turned onto your side with a groan, sudden lower body movements still debilitating as Aegon dutifully assisted you under the blankets.

The prince crawled beside you, placing one arm securely around your waist, careful not to cause any pressure, and the other underneath your body. He nuzzled his nose into your neck, releasing a sigh that held all his worries. He kissed your sweat-dampened skin, relieved to be within your comforting warmth. Your muscles relaxed your mind at ease and protected within the embrace of your fair-haired boy. Silence sat until your mind could finally form a response to his prior confession.

"I desire for her words to be true," you expressed, a longing for a life free of secrets and anxiety causing more tears to spring. A life you feared was not your future.

A screech broke throughout the orange and gray sky of King's Landing, rumbling the sleeping inhabitants' thatched roofs and glass windows. It was not unusual to hear the roars of dragons in the skies, and most paid no mind, simply falling back into slumber to hopefully catch what little bit of rest they had before the day.

The wings of Caraxes sliced through the late winter air as his rider descended at the mouth of the Dragonpit. Keepers scrambled on the packed dirt like disturbed ants from their hill, abruptly stolen from sleep. They could sense that much like his rider, the Blood Wyrm was in a state, snorting, stomping, and snapping at each of the Dragonkeepers as they attempted with difficulty to leash the winged beast.

Daemon did not wait until the handlers could properly restrain Caraxes as he dismounted from his ornate leather saddle. Jumping down the ropes on the side of his crimson scales, the Rogue Prince landed with dust under his feet, adjusting Dark Sister at his waist.

"Your Highness, we were not anticipating your arrival. Please forgive us," the headkeeper bowed, struggling to hold the agitated Caraxes at bay.

Daemon sniffed at the man and fixed his riding tunic unbothered. He had no time for people's false pleasantries and proper arrivals, nor did he want to.

"I need a horse," he cooly commanded, disregarding the Keepers' shouts in High Valyrian.

He paced along the edge of the Dragonpit like one of the beasts held within the cave, aching to fly, aching to be free. Gods knew if you were alive or not, whether those Green cunts had done away with you and framed it as a simple accident. The only thing that kept Daemon at bay was the letter. Though that piece of parchment was a harbinger of agony and worry, it meant that there was someone within those pale red stone walls who was an ally.

Daemon would tear those fucking vipers piece by piece until all that left of them were ash and bone. You were his daughter. An attempt on your life was just as good as his.

At times, he felt you were the only one within his family who understood him, the only one with whom he could fully be his true self. With his wife and other children, it was not to say that Daemon could not act honestly; he knew they loved him for who he was, yet the Rogue Prince did not want to scare them with things he felt inside. With you, his eldest daughter, he felt free. Your father could confide all his darkest thoughts, the anxieties that kept him awake at night that would send Rhaenyra into a panic. It was why he chose you to be the one who ensured a future with him beside the Iron Throne.

You were the only one who could tolerate his antics and give as good as you could receive. You knew when to put Daemon in his place and when to allow him to reign free. While Rhaenyra made him a good man, you made him a better one.

People saw that, and it was no doubt one of the reasons you were in this situation. The Rogue Prince was weak with his favorite daughter out of the way. He would not allow them to feel accomplished. If you died, House Hightower and all who swore to protect you would be eradicated by the morrow.

The whiny of a horse stole Daemon from his trance, halting his prowling as an unnamed knight strode on his steed.

"Your Highness," the Gold Cloak called, halting the chestnut horse with a pull of the reins. "Her Majesty, the Queen was not expecting you. Please forgive us for the lack of preparation. A wheelhouse is being prepared to take you to the castle."

The knight seemed out of breath as if he was the one who ran from the Red Keep to the Dragonpit as Daemon approached him. He was calm with his strides, leather boots thumping on packed dirt as he peered up at the man, the orange hue of the sunrise burning his eyes. He did not speak at first, seeming to size up the man before he lunged, grabbing the Gold Cloak by his weighted breastplate and throwing him off the startled horse. Daemon did not look to see if the aghast soldier was unharmed, clicking with the side of his cheek as he turned the animal toward Aegon's Hill.

"Where is she?" Alicent shouted at your eldest maid, tears of frustration and fear welling in her round brown eyes.

The screech of Caraxes woke every inhabitant of the palace, a sound the Queen believed to be in her nightmares until it boomed again. She understood it was only a matter of time until Daemon or Rhaenyra discovered what happened to their daughter, and now, it was about controlling the damage that would be left in the Rogue Prince's wake.

"I am not sure, your Majesty," Jeyne answered with a lowered head. She honestly did not know. Sleep had overcome her no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

"I entrusted you with the Princess's protection, and you failed. Now, for all we know, the assassin could have completed his mission. It will be your fault if that is the case," Alicent scolded the older maid, speaking down to the woman as if she were merely a child.

It angered Jeyne beyond measure. She had grown too comfortable with the respect you gave her and Fiora. Before she realized it, she was biting back, barely containing ire that would ruin her chances at a smooth life in the Keep.

"It will not be on my conscience if that is the case, my Queen."

Alicent balked. Plush lips agape with shock, digits twitching as if she wished to strike the insolent servant for her remark. Inhaling a calming breath, the Queen folded her hand across her abdomen, shoulders upright and chin held high as she spoke.

"You are dismissed from your duties henceforth," she declared with a furled lip as if the mere presence of someone close to you nauseated her.

Alicent could not hurt you in a way that would not arouse suspicion; she had tried that once before and failed, so she believed the next best thing would be to hurt those dear in your presence.

A woman from her station could not speak as freely as you did to Alicent. Her father was not the Rogue Prince, nor was she the lover of a crowned prince. The eldest maid was comforted that once you got wind of her reassignment, you would no doubt rain fire from the Seven Hells to get her back. Jeyne bowed humbly before the Queen, her chin held too high for the Queen's liking, and said nothing more as she exited the room toward the servant quarters, passing the guard stationed at your door.

The Queen sighed deeply, releasing tension she had not realized the conversation had created. She put her nimble fingers to the bridge of her nose. Her ramrod-straight posture slouched in her typical forest green dress, the ever-looming presence of the future shadowing her mind.

"My Queen!" An unknown guard barreled into your greeting room, his armor clanking and causing his limbs to throw all his weight. "Prince Daemon was spotted flying atop Caraxes over King's Landing," he breathlessly declared as if he had run across the castle.

"I know. I came to inform the Princess that her father had come to pay her a visit, but she is not here. Have the guards search for her in my son's quarters. Discretion is of utmost importance," Alicent commanded, her voice rich like velvet. She knew where you would go. You were still a girl in her eyes, desperate for a morsel of companionship in times of need. Alicent understood the feeling and recalled many times in her past when she had no one but herself. 

She had not felt nor sounded like the Queen she claimed to be within your presence until now. Her posture returned to its regal stiffness, her shoulders rolled back, and her scowl pulled her plump lips. How Daemon got word of your well-being was unknown, but she knew there was a traitor in the Red Keep. Someone or possibly more had deliberately gone against the orders of the Hand and Queen Consort. There was no telling what they would do should the untimely death of the King strike.

Paranoia wound into Alicent's gut, tying her insides into knots as the unnamed knight bowed to fulfill his duty.

The control the Queen grappled with her entire service was falling from her grasp like sand between one's fingers. Everything had gotten out of hand so quickly that she could not comprehend what to do next. The most heinous scenarios ran through her head at what Daemon would do with no one to steady the reigns. She recalled the stories of the Rogue Prince in the Stepstones—the betrayal, the horror, the bloodshed of returning to court with a crown made of his enemy's bones. He was an army of his own, and the death of one of his soldiers would not deter him from his purpose; it would only further his wrath.

Alicent could no longer be complacent in her terror. Her legs carried a twitching and trembling form across the silent halls of the Keep until she saw a streak of red. It appeared out of nowhere, trailing behind the culprit's path like footprints in freshly fallen snow. She knew it could only belong to one person, and a shuddering breath racked her at the realization.

Your dreams were pleasant, though you could not recall them, only the feeling they gave. The laughter of those you sensed were your loved ones, their smiles, the warmth of the sun, basking in its eternal yellow warmth, and the sturdy touch of what you believed was the ground beneath you. You longed to stay in this moment forever, realizing in your mind that it was a dream, but you didn't care. You just wanted to feel the joy that always seemed a finger-width away, even if it was under the falsehood of sleep.

Your dreams did not last long enough, suddenly ripped away from your blissful world to a searing pain to your scalp. Your eyes shot open as you released a scream, your sore body dragging across the Myrish rug on Aegon's floor, the fibers burning your flesh raw. You struggled within your assailant's vice-like grip to no avail, your prince startling awake as he tried to see through the eyes of sleep.

Fear gripped your heart, thoughts racing as to who would do this to you, your previous assailant coming to mind. You felt the slice of skin before you saw it, hissing in hurt as the shattered pieces of the wine decanter appeared next to you, a trail of blood leading from your foot. Without hesitation, you snatched the nearest piece, slashing the skin of your abductor's hand. They released you with a wince, your head thumping against the floor as you scrambled away.

The armor of a kingsguard glinted in the candlelight as a grunting Ser Criston cradled his bleeding hand. Fearful confusion etched your features as Aegon came rushing to your side, throwing himself between you and the enraged knight.

"You cunt!" Ser Criston cursed, clutching his fist to his breastplate.

"Criston!" Aegon shouted, running a soothing hand through your hair. "I'll cut your fucking tongue out for that! How dare you put your hands on her?"

Tears welled in your eyes, and an overwhelming sensation of helplessness that was akin to your childhood overcame you as you hid your face within Aegon's soft torso. You could not care about the shameless way you cried, sniffling and hiccuping as you did in your girlhood in your lover's embrace.

"Her father is on his way here as we speak. Do you want to be discovered with her in your bed?" Criston admonished, his words filled with an ire you always knew simmered below the surface.

Aegon growled an animalistic noise that rattled you to your core as he stood, your arms reaching out in search of his comfort. "You will leave us and never put your hands on her again or I shall tell the King of what you have done here."

Criston knew it was not an empty threat. He did not doubt the prince would run to his half-dead father about what he did. While the knight didn't have faith that Viserys would be lucid enough to enact anything, the memory of his frail body walking across the Great Hall during the hearing of Driftmark made him hesitant. But it did not matter. The Queen and the Hand ruled the kingdom in Viserys' sickness. To Criston, he was only king in name.

"I am on orders of your Queen Mother to bring the Princess back to her chambers. She was not supposed to leave on the Maester's command," he declared confidently, the pain from his cut dwindling as the blood began to clot.

"The Maester's command," you repeated with a sneer as you stood. Anger replaced any fear that made its home in your chest, coming to be beside Aegon. "You were not there as I was forced to drink milk of the poppy despite Maester Orwyle's protests. It was your Queen who wishes to keep us separated."

The revelation did not phase Ser Cole. He had no conscience when it came to the likes of a bastard whore. His dark brow was stern as he disregarded you. "Move, my prince, or you will be moved."

Rage burned hot in your bones, roaring into a flaming inferno that felt like it would scorch your insides if you did not let it out. Ser Criston had no right to the aggression he displayed with you. You had not done anything to him. You had barely spoken except for brief conversations of forced politeness when given no other choice, yet he still held hatred for you that you could never understand.

"You fucking celibate, craven, son of a-"

An abrupt smack across your temple cut off your words, ringing your ears momentarily as your vision swiftly faded.

"Criston!" a new voice shouted as your unconscious body toppled to the floor, a weeping Aegon following soon after. "What have you done?"

Alicent stood in the doorway, a shocked Erryk Cargyll standing stock-still beside her. Criston heaved, his shoulders rapidly falling up and down as his brown eyes drifted to your listless expression. He thought he preferred you that way, briefly imagining someone else in your place.

"Apologies, your majesty," he bowed modestly, returning to the humble White Cloak everyone knew him as. "In my efforts to return her highness to her rooms, I struck her in anger. Please, forgive me."

The Queen balked, doe eyes nearly bulging out of her skull as she saw the whisper of blood trickle from your scalp onto your cheek. She swallowed, head reeling with the thought of another consequence she would face when you came to.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind, something so conniving and wicked that it reminded her of her father. It sent a chill down Alicent's spine, sending a brief prayer of forgiveness to the Seven before clearing her throat as she spoke. "All is forgiven, Ser Cole. You've served my House steadfastly all these years, and for that you have my many thanks. Please, take her to her quarters and summon the Maester."

Her sworn shield bowed, ordering a silently begrudging Ser Erryk to restrain Aegon as he threw you over his shoulder with a grunt as if you were no more than a grain sack. Aegon shrieked in response, attempting to chase after you, but ran into the wall of Ser Erryk. He tried to push past, but it was no use. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, and no longer had the facilities to thrash against others.

"Please, my prince," Erryk pleaded, a sturdy fist placed against Aegon's chest. "You will see her again."

Her solution was temporary, that much Alicent knew, and would require the fear your father instilled in others to work. However, if she were as intelligent and cunning as her father, time and patience would be on her side. She just hoped that the Gods were, too.

Alicent understood you would only listen with great struggle. Now that you knew your father was here, you had another soul to cling to—one she could not control or manipulate. Those who served you would be tested on how much their loyalties ran when met with the highest order of the kingdom, and the Queen prayed fear flowed deeper than any bond did as she ordered the Maester for another tincture.

Leather footfalls echoed throughout the red rock walls of the Keep, intimidating those who were unsuspecting in the Rogue Prince's path. Stunned maids and manservants gasped and bowed in Daemon's presence as he passed. Each whispered words to one another behind glancing eyes and covered mouths. It should not be unusual for the king's brother to arrive unannounced, yet the years of tense relations with the Queen Consort and the Heir made his entrance something to gossip about.

He paid no mind to the common folk chatter. He was the victim of it all of Daemon's life. First with the uncertainty of Viserys' heir, then with his concubine Lady Misery when he gifted her and their unborn child a dragon egg, the next with rumors of him and Rhaenyra's uncouth relationship of uncle and niece, the suspicious death of his first wife, Rhea Royce, his marriage to his niece, and the legitimization of a bastard.

No amount of courtly yapping would affect Daemon. Not anymore. Especially not now when said daughter's life was in the grasp of those who openly despised his family.

He did not know where those traitors held you, how the Greens treated you, or if you were still alive, and that uncertainty shook Daemon to his core, though you could not see it. He was confident of one thing: where to find Otto. High atop the tower of the Hand would be where the snake resided, no doubt thinking of more ways to scheme himself into positions he was undeserving of.

Surprisingly, no guards stopped the Rogue Prince as he ascended the winding steps to the tower. Perhaps they knew not to mess with a sleeping dragon, ready to spit flames at anyone who dared wake it. Damon entered the Hand's chambers, giving no opportunity to properly announce a guest's arrival.

Ser Otto Hightower raised a wirey, unamused brow at the prince, unbothered by his lack of manners. He knew that Daemon was on his way and had prepared everything and everyone accordingly. He ordered your maids and Maester Orwyle into silence, and should they speak, incomprehensible outcomes would befall them. Alicent, Otto's ever-dutiful daughter, his favorite daughter,and his only daughter took care of her son's and your matters.

"Prince Daemon," the hand greeted him, yet he did not stand. "It is an unexpected pleasure to have you return home unannounced."

The prince ignored the covert jab at his lack of manners, his lips twitching into a scowl as his palm rested on the hilt of Dark Sister. "I do not share the same sentiment," he sneered. "I know what you have done to my daughter and it is treason. I demand to see her at once."

"It is unfortunate what has befallen you, daughter, but you must understand my discretion. She has had an attempt on her life, and we certainly do not need other members of the royal family fearing for theirs." Otto sighed, seeming like the conversation was with a petulant child, not a war-hardened machine.

"That is what you call ceasing communications with Dragonstone?" Daemon shook his head, rolling his violet eyes with a scoff. "It seems to everyone but you what exactly you were trying to do. A guilty conscience I presume?"

Otto paused, his dark orbs sizing up the enraged prince in his usual fashion. He was a man of patience and perseverance, proven over the decades. The Hand was indeed capable of action but not overtly like the Rogue Prince. He took time to understand his allies and even more so with his enemies, ensuring he knew things they did not know themselves. Inhaling a sharp breath, Ser Otto returned his gaze to the uninvited guest and spoke barbs disguised as silk.

"I understand your feelings on the matter, but you must understand that it is not only her that is in danger. If one member of the court were to catch wind of an attempted assassination on someone of her stature chaos would erupt," Otto expressed pragmatically. Daemon scoffed, intertwining his hands over his waist as he leaned a foot out in exasperation. "People would feel unsafe and have doubts in the king's capabilities to ensure his subjects are safe, let alone his kin. There would be a mass exodus within the Keep, notable Houses would pull their investments. It would tear the establishment down simply because of one girl's mistake."

Anger lit inside Daemon's chest at his words, spine straightening to his full height as he strode to the Hand's desk with menacing strides. How dare he speak about you as if you were just an animal? That you were nothing but one of the many pieces of parchment sat upon the wood for him to briefly read and discard. Dark Sister swung at the prince's waist, beating to his movements, the coattails of his riding gear flowing behind as he stood tall over the Lord's Hand.

Before Daemon could think better of it, rearing his arm back and connected his fist into the scruff of Otto's nearly trimmed beard, knocking the pompous man from his seat. The prince had longed to do this for decades, and now, with no one to rein him in, he could. It was a cathartic feeling filled with pent-up rage and jealousy for all the years Otto filled the seat he desired, whispering in his brother's ear to influence decisions in ways that benefited the Hightowers.

This was personal.

Daemon circled the spruce davenport and kneeled. The prince gripped his midnight-colored tunic, readying his dominant hand to bash the Hand's face as the door to the office opened. The Queen stood in the entryway, a horrified look on her visage as she screeched for the guards to separate them.

"No need," Daemon answered coolly as the Gold Cloaks entered, righting himself. He rolled his shoulders unbothered as if he were caught wrestling with a sibling rather than one of the highest Lords of Westeros.

Alicent swiftly went to her father, kneeling beside him as tears glimmered in her wide amber eyes. Otto gently brushed her dotting efforts away, refusing his fragile masculine pride to be further insulted with the aid of a woman. She opened her plump lips to order the guards to escort Daemon away, but he held his palm, halting the frightened Queen with what he might intend to do next.

"Where is my daughter?" he questioned, the smooth timbre of his domineering tone replaced with something almost... soft.

Alicent swallowed the excess saliva that accumulated inside her mouth with the threat of tears. Her gaze returned to her father, noticing the trickle of blood on his lip, no doubt split from the force of Daemon's strike. She waited for her father to speak, still thrown to the ground as he said to her in expressions only she could comprehend. When he assured her and himself that everything was in place without words, he nodded, Daemon's suspicious gaze examining them.

"She is in Maegor's Holdfast. I am sure you know how to conduct yourself in those halls," Alicent snipped, her voice velvety and moist, as she helped her pride-wounded father stand.

The prince gave her no more words, no looks that said he heard her before he was off, leaving a trail of destruction behind him, gait determined with only one goal in mind, and Seven help any poor, unfortunate soul who stood in his path.

Prickling anxiety stirred within Daemon's gut as he followed a young servant with bright, fiery hair. The nervous thing rang her hands together until her knuckles cracked, sparing fleeting glances behind her to ensure he had not abruptly decided to live up to his name.

Daemon imagined your fear and knew you must have felt betrayed, terrified, and distraught. He thought about how you needed him in your most vulnerable moment, only to find that there was no one. He was the one who set the foundations for your assault. He should have never forced you into this position. Your father should have kept you close and tucked away in his heart as he did everything dear to him.

Now, he would never let you go for as long as the blood of the dragon flowed through his veins.

Each realization strung him up further into his anxiety, feeling his heart beating at every point of his body. The moment's walk felt like decades of agony to him, as if Daemon was forced to fight a legion of soldiers alone with an arm tied behind his back. The servant, whom he did not care to know, stopped at a great wooden door, curtsying to him with her chin tucked into her chest and gaze lowered. Daemon stared at her dully, waiting for any further response or courtesy, but gave none, answering his question wordlessly as he opened the portal.

A thick blanket of invisible smoke covered your chambers, stinging his pale, violet eyes as he struggled to breathe. It blinded his senses, unable to think of anything other than the overpowering scent of incense. His vision did not immediately travel to you but to a dark-skinned man with modest gray robes. The Maester's back was turned to Daemon as he hunched over a table with supplies, mixing dried herbs to make what he assumed was a pot of medicinal tea.

He left the man at work, looking around the heavy room until he saw you. Daemon stared at you in disbelief at the heart-wrenching sight before him, feeling only the frantic pounding of his unsteady pulse.

His daughter lay under thick sheets of Hightower green, your face sallow and sunken rings of indigo under your eyes.

"They told me they found her within a puddle of gore. No attacker in sight," Orwyle said in a trembling voice, clearly afraid of his wrath. Daemon didn't listen to him, staring blankly at your listless expression.

He approached you slowly on trembling legs, feeling complete emptiness in his head. He breathed heavily through his mouth as Daemon kneeled beside a bed that did not belong to you, gently grasping your cheeks in his fingers and turning your face towards him. Your body was limp, your mouth slightly parted, your eyelids half open, and your gaze distant and misty. It was as if you were not here, not in spirit, wetting your lips as he heard your labored breathing.

"What happened?" your father asked in a whisper, terrified of how his voice and body were shaking. His heart threatened to burst from his ribs, his throat and stomach squeezed so tightly that he had trouble filling his lungs with air.

He heard your quiet sigh as you struggled to train your gaze on him, looking at your father as if you were thinking about something and unsure if what was happening was a dream or true. It has been so long since you last saw him that you wondered if you had truly gone mad after everything.

Relief did not flood Daemon at discovering you were alive, and it was when he looked at you closely that he noticed your right temple was swollen, a tiny sliver of broken pink flesh decorating the top. The wound was fresh, blood still glistening, and he understood it must have happened within the last few hours. He felt tears of shame under his eyelids and overwhelming rage at the thought that someone had dared to hit you.

His daughter—his flesh.

"Father," you whispered so quietly that he barely heard you, stroking the soft skin of your face. Daemon felt an unbearable squeeze in his throat at your voice, his eyebrows arched in pain, eyes burning from the tears that wanted so desperately to run down his visage.

"I am here." The Rogue Prince whimpered with difficulty in a tone breaking with pain and grief, pressing his nose against your hair. He cried out loudly, never feeling so helpless before in his life, for his dearest daughter, his favorite daughter, was dying in his arms because of him, betrayed and abandoned.

"Who did this to you?" he questioned thickly, words echoing in the cavernous expanse of your guest chambers. This place has been your home for two years.

You spent two years with only written correspondence. A father's duty was to protect his kin and make the proper decisions that ensured their success and safety in life, but he was ill-fated. Daemon was your guardian, the only person in this forsaken world in whom you should place your unwavering trust, and he failed—not only as a father but also as a man.

"The Stranger," you muttered in response with great effort, eyes rolling back into your head and lids closing as you released a profound sigh.

He knew that your mind was not in its proper place, nor did he expect it to be. You escaped the clutches of death within a house that prayed at every chance for your downfall. Your father put you in a cage inhabited by rabid wolves seeking to devour every morsel of prey that walked within the halls of the Red Keep, but you were not an easy meal. You were lined with scars and teeth marks of the past, hardening your hide from each predator who attempted to sink their claws into you.

Daemon turned a young lamb into a dragon, and they would soon feel your fire's scorching heat.

"Talus mandus ñuhus. Jorilagon sesīr," (My gentle daughter. Rest now.) he muttered, feeling the warm tears run down his cheeks. He looked only at you, stroking your crown as if you were a small child.

Daemon considered the Hightowers, Alicent, and Otto conniving snakes in the grass bound by piousness, servitude, and duty for their wealth. This was what upholding the realm was—death and destruction for their betterment.

He stroked your cold skin with his thumb, confident that no force would tear him away from his child. No force would make him leave you, and if anyone tried to do so, he would kill every fucking one of them.

Masterlist of Series

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte , @silverslive , @prettykinkysoul , @legolas017 , @iiamthehybrid , @dd122004dd , @ladybug0095 , @millies0bsimp , @kalfild , @sheislonelyalways , @tempt-ress , @minttea07 , @trikigirl271 , @esposadomd , @prettywhenicry4 , @justarandomflowerchildofthenight , @partypoison00 , @please-buckme , @pastelorangeskies , @existential-echo , @priyajoyy , @valaenatargaryensdragon , @merovingianprincess , @candy12110 , @w3ird11 , @ruhjkie , @somemydayy , @marikkjj , @zillahvathek , @sunfyresrider , @heavenly1927 , @hjgdhghoe , @im-sidney , @aurorathi , @marihoneywk , @xitsemm , @justbelljust , @qardasngan

How did you all like the reunion, even though it wasn't much of one? I'm glad we got more of a look into Daemon and the reader's very unhealthy relationship. Don't we all want a daddy like him, though?

I always like to remind people that Alicent's relationship with the reader is a mirror reflecting on her. This raises the philosophical question: If you were faced with your actions of the past and present, would you like them? Would you still support and commit to them again? Or would you hate them, hate what you've done, hate that it's you that you're seeing, and refuse to accept it?

Well, anyway, thank you for reading and your unwavering devotion. I hope you will stick with me through my literary journey, even when I finish this story and move on to the next.

#house of the dragon #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #game of thrones #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #his love fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #daemon targaryen #hotd alicent #alicent hightower #hotd #hotd fanfiction

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XI)

Chapter 11: If We Break

Hello!! We’re back with… angst… **diabolical laughter**

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1809

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You had never talked about that night, the one when you stayed.

Andrew didn’t dare to bring it up. He hated to admit it, but he had cried in the morning, when, after looking all around his house, he finally accepted that you were gone. You left a post-it note on the fridge, to thank him for the night and remind him of that afternoon you meant to spend with Sam and Daphne to plan the wedding. And that was all. It was a mix between a farewell note left to a one-night stand and a reminder to a friend. Polite. Factual. The opposite of how you behaved the previous night.

What was killing him was that he didn’t know what to make of your behaviour. You were still you, still the person he thought he knew so well… and then you pulled stunts like that. They were almost cruel, really. The pain that they left behind was enough proof that this relationship was slowly destroying him. Things needed to change. And they needed to change quickly.

Now that he knew for sure that you cared, that he wasn’t projecting feelings onto you, he needed to talk to you. This… arrangement needed to evolve. And the first step was to talk about that night.

Which was easier said than done, when your lips were glued to his neck, nibbling on the tender skin, right over his pulse, and then there was your warm tongue that made his head spin, and under his hands were your hips, and then your ribs as he slipped his fingers under your shirt…

“You’re so handsome, Andy…”

His breath caught in his throat at your words, his heart making a happy jump at the praise. His breathing was heavy and irregular into your ear.

You shifted on his laps, and he needed to stop you… he had called to talk to you, not to have sex with you. This was… incredible… but then he thought back to that empty spot in his bed, and it acted like a cold shower.

Gently, he pushed you upright.

“You’re okay?” you asked, surprised by the interruption.

He nodded, but shifted again so you would climb off him, and your expression grew even more worried.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” you asked with earnest worry, but he was quick to reassure you.

“No, of course not. That was amazing…”

“Why did you stop me then?”

“I… as lovely as this is, I didn’t call you to have sex.”

“Oh… okay. Well, if you wanted to go for a walk or something, we can still have sex and then do whatever activity you had planned.”

“I… I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh…”

You stood straighter, settling more comfortably on his couch.

“Okay… what did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“Oh…”

He noticed how tensed you were now, defensive, ready to run. He hated the sight, but this needed to be done. You cared. You cared, he knew that now. It ought to mean something…

“I just… it’s been over three months now. Don’t you think we should… make an update on things?”

“An update? On what?”

“I don’t know… but this is… like, it’s lingering. It’s been going on for a while, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop soon. So… maybe we could update some rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

“Staying at night would be a good start.”

“Andy…” you sighed, looking away.

“It’s ridiculous, Y/N. We’re having sex, we’ve been having sex for months… we can sleep together.”

“No, we can’t.”

“We did, though. You stayed.”

You sucked on your teeth, and he wasn’t sure if the gesture came from annoyance or anger, but both possibilities made his blood boil.

“I couldn’t drive. And it happened once.”

“It wasn’t just that, and you know it.”

“Andy… don’t…”

“You asked me to hold you. You asked me to hold you and to not let you go! Have you forgotten that?”

You shifted, clearly uncomfortable, fleeing his gaze, but Andrew didn’t back down.

“It was more than that, and you know it. And that’s alright. Why are you reacting this way? Why the fuck did you leave that morning?”

He saw the way you struggled to swallow, as you ran your fingers through your hair because of nerves, how you blinked tears away.

“Why did you leave? You could have stayed. I would have made you breakfast, we would have talked over pancakes and bacon, you would have taken a shower, and you would have left like a normal person, instead of a fucking asshole.”

You looked at him again, throwing him a glare.

“Hey! Why are you insulting me all of a sudden?!”

“How do you think it made me feel to wake up to an empty bed?”

Your lips parted, and again, you were averting your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have stayed.”

“No, Y/N. You shouldn’t have left.”

“No! No, you don’t get it! I shouldn’t have stayed!”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes everything complicated! Look at us now! We were having fun, and now we’re fighting! God, I shouldn’t have stayed. I should have gone home.”

“Why are you so fucking scared to let me in?”

You let out a bitter laugh.

“I’m not afraid…”

“No? Then why are you building so many walls between us?”

“Because it’s the only way we won’t get hurt!”

There was a moment of silence. Andrew’s throat had tightened, and he was the one to turn away now, resting his elbow against the armrest of his couch, and his cheek against his knuckles. When he spoke again, his voice was shaking, but his words were out all the same, loud and clear, despite his voice deepening.

“Well, I’m hurting.”

Silence. Nothing. Andrew waited for you, long minutes spent motionless. But he was patient and afraid, and it was your turn to speak.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to,” you spoke after a while.

You sounded sorry. But you didn’t offer anything else.

He heaved a painful sigh.

“Y/N… I just… I don’t get where this is going.”

“What do you mean? We agreed on that at the beginning.”

“It was three months ago. Haven’t things changed at all for you?”

“I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m still attracted to you. Nothing’s changed.”

But when he looked at you, he could see the truth in your eyes.

“Now, you’re lying, Y/N. If you respect me at all, then don’t lie to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t back down.

“I’m not lying. The situation hasn’t changed. We can stop though, if you don’t agree with our plan anymore.”

You offered the solution that easily, like it was that simple. Like it wouldn’t break him to lose you. Would it really be that easy for you to let him go?

“I don’t want us to stop seeing each other,” Andrew protested.

“What do you want then?”

“I’ve told you what I want. I want you to stay the night. That would be a good start.”

You seemed to ponder his words.

“Not all the time,” you negotiated. “Only if we’re really tired.”

“Only if we feel like it,” he fought back, and you took a minute to nod, but eventually you yielded.

“Okay… okay, we can do that sometimes.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“Grand. That’s grand.”

“It doesn’t mean that we’re together. Or exclusive.”

He frowned at that.

“We agreed to stop this if we want to see other people.”

“Yes… yes, that’s what I meant. I meant that we can meet other people, and choose to see them again.”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Have you met someone?”

“No,” you answered, and he wondered why you were so defensive. “I was just reminding you.”

Andrew wasn’t convinced, but he nodded anyway.

“I know that. No need to remind me.”

“We… we’re still friends, right?” you asked, and he frowned again.

“’Course.”

“And if… if we stopped this… would we still be friends?”

He stared at you while he thought of an earnest answer. He didn’t want to lie to you. But he didn’t want to lose you either.

“Honestly… I don’t know, Y/N.”

You looked at him with so much fear in your eyes…

“I mean… this changes things, doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He blinked at how fast you answered, how absolute your tone and words were.

“Y/N… we’re sleeping together.”

“Yes, and we agreed that this was a casual thing. Nothing more.”

“I… I know, but…”

“There’s no ‘but’, Andy. We agreed.”

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

“We can still stop if we don’t want the same thing. Before it’s too late for our friendship.”

He slowly shook his head. You weren’t ready for more. You weren’t ready to let him in. You were clearly in denial, because he wasn’t stupid nor was he blind. The signs were all over the place.

He took a deep breath.

It was okay. He just… needed to be more patient. It was okay, you were just scared.

“I don’t want to stop,” he answered firmly, and you nodded.

“Good. I don’t want to stop either for now.”

For now. Andrew’s heart was breaking, but he ignored it, pushed the words away until he couldn’t hear them anymore.

“Do you want some tea or something?” he asked, trying to get the tension down again.

But you shook your head, and he was surprised when you moved to straddle his laps again. Still, it was a reflex by now, really, when his hands came to rest on your hips as soon as you were settled above him.

“I’d rather pick up where we left off… if that’s fine by you,” you whispered in that suave tone that made his brain mushy and his heart melt.

Your lips came closer, but remained a breath away, and when he tried to close the space between your mouths, you moved away just enough to remain out of reach. He looked into your eyes, and read desire in your dilated pupils.

Slowly, he nodded, even if a voice in his head was ringing a warning. He ignored it as he answered in a tempting voice.

“Yeah… that sounds like a good plan. Mind reminding me where we were exactly?”

Your smile was full of mischief.

“There, I reckon,” you answered, sealing your lips back to his pulse, making him shudder, and audibly making his breathing stagger.

“Yeah… yeah, I remember now.”

He placed his hands back on your ribs, gently tracing circles on your soft skin with his thumbs, and you gasped under his touch. He let his head fall back on the backrest of the couch.

God… you would kill him one day… you would kill him with either pleasure, or pain…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fic #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[aihoshiino]

chapter 149 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 6

anybody else here unironically love getting yuribaited or just me

Honestly I kind of don't know what to think about this chapter lol. As it stands I didn't really hate it - in a lot of ways, it feels like a return to the humour and emotional focus of early OnK which is something I've honestly been missing in the manga while revisiting the anime. Mengo's art toys chapter was great and getting some proper Akane focus was nice. On the other hand, transitioning into this style of writing with no cushioning after the last arc is so incredibly jarring and the Akane stuff we get here is… well, we'll put a pin in it for now and address it later.

In general "put a pin in it" feels like the right energy for this chapter. As the second chapter of a new arc it's primarily setup for the stuff we're going to be dealing with for the next however long, I think it's going to be something we can really only chew on when we have a more solid idea of what exactly it's setting up, long or short term.

Anyway…! We start off with an explanation of why Kana seemed to flip so suddenly last chapter which does patch up some of that logic a bit. I think it's a little silly that she didn't actually overhear the conversation and thus clue into the actual goings on with how close she was standing but that's basically romance misunderstandings 101 so…

Her leaping to assumptions and giving up so quick also feels a bit abrupt but tbh Kana has always been deeply insecure and quick to leap to it's so over when it comes to her feelings for Aqua. Not only that but as others have pointed out since last chapter, from Kana's outsider perspective, Aqua was at his happiest and most at peace while dating Akane and has been in a mental health spiral to the point of expressing suicidal ideation since they broke up. Obviously we, the readers, know the extenuating circumstances at place but from Kana's POV it makes perfect sense to conclude that Akane makes him happiest and is uniquely equipped to do so. It just feels clunky in execution.

On the subject of clunky… I won't lie, it really bugs me that the first really significant AKKN interaction we're getting is love triangle shit entirely centered on Aqua. One of my biggest complaints about the series post TB was the way the end of that arc set up a huge status quo change to Akane and Kana's rivalry and then kind of failed to expand on it at all and that continued to be true all the way up to the Movie Arc. I'd hoped that them both working in close proximity as actresses on the same project would give us opportunities to dig into that. We got some lip service in that regard and then swerved hard into suddenly hyperfocusing on Kana's insecurities regarding Ruby while Akane got all of zero meaningful focus during the back half of the Movie Arc even though she was one of the characters with the most potential to bring interesting things to the table.

Honestly, one of my biggest fears with Akane's declaration that she'd stop Aqua's plan was that even though the two of broken up, she would continue to orbit Aqua at the expense of being allowed an arc of her own that focused on her relationships with the wider cast. Like - even if what she says about not being romantically interested in Aqua anymore is true, she is nevertheless entirely revolving around him to a really frustrating degree. It really feels like Akasaka realized Akane would have solved everything going on in the Movie Arc and had to panic and offscreen her as a result lol.

tho akane dismissively talking about the idea of clinging onto a past lover did make me do a very mean chuckle. ouch, better hope ruby didn't overhear that one, girl!

That said, for all my complaints, I didn't hate their little talk. Yes, it contained an absolute mountain of transparent-to-the-point-of-cynical KanaKane shipbait but it was pretty gay so who's to say if it's really good or bad or not. It's also just nice to see Kana and Akane being able to have a talk that isn't entirely hostile even if I really wish it was under different circumstances, or even that we'd just seen the road they took to being able to be so civil with each other. But whatever - we're here now, I'll take what I get.

Circling back around a bit, I am intrigued by the idea of Akane framing herself as having 'moved on' from Aqua when she very clearly hasn't lol. Like I indicated up there, I don't quite think this is the case nor do I think we're supposed to uncritically accept this as being the case - it reads moreso to me that Akane is trying to convince not just Kana but also herself that she's moved on from Aqua so Kana doesn't feel like she's in Akane's way if she tries to shoot her shot. As for why… well, that's something to talk about at the end of the chapter but I do think it's interesting either way. Akane wildly overshooting in her scrabble to convince Kana it's totally just platonic and going for sonzoning Aqua was also about the most insane thing she's said in a while but her utterly panicked and deranged expression as she said it made me bust a gut laughing.

In general, the expression work this chapter was on fire and there was a ton of really funny and really cute moments - Akane's blushy pout after Kana's quasi-confession, the fish-eye lens effect on her when Kana sees her outside her door and especially her and Kana's expressions in the second to last page… jesus i lost it so bad.

I've been gushing about Mengo's panelling and expressions for the last ten or so chapters but she really is amping it up lately. It definitely feels like her art for OnK has been getting really refined during the last few volumes and while this chapter was a little whiplash-y coming off the end of the Movie Arc, I also think it's a really impressive display of Mengo's range, too. Her horror and drama chops were on full display while all that was going on but in a more lowkey chapter like this, she brings a lot of life and charm to even simple things like the little montage of everyone wrapping up their day of the beach - it's three silent, tiny panels at the bottom of the page but she crams a ton of detail and character into each one.

I also am Extremely Shrimpterested in the note this chapter ends on. Something OnK does occasionally is use genre trappings as a smokescreen for what is actually happening on page and Akane's words at the end here seem to indicate this is happening here, too. This entire chapter goes extremely hard on the romcom tropes and dynamics but the way Akane's energy totally changes once she's on her own makes me think this is intentional and a reflection of the way Akane is setting up to use Kana.

Because I do think it's undoubtable that she is setting up to use Kana. Her sudden leap to captain of the SS AquKana is not about wholeheartedly supporting two people she loves (at least not primarily) and more about her continued efforts to save Aqua from himself. Kana just happens to be a convenient pawn in making this happen.

If I'm making this sound very cynical and cold of Akane: it is! But that's why I think it's so interesting. Akane is very like Aqua in a lot of ways and seeing this tendency of his to perform cruelty and manipulation to the greater end of doing the most good (or at least in their eyes) mirrored in her is very juicy and potentially very deadly in the hands of someone as smart and perceptive as Akane.

It's also kind of telling and kind of really sad to see Akane asserting that Aqua wouldn't be able to take revenge if he had a girlfriend at his side when that certainly didn't stop him back when he and Akane were dating. It's subtle but it's consistent with just how little faith Akane seems to have ever had in Aqua's feelings for her. Kana's not the only one struggling with long term insecurities in that regard.

I also can't not address the elephant in the room that is the story setting this up while the resolution to whatever the hell is going on with Ruby is still dangling over everyone's heads. I mentioned this last chapter but it really is getting to be bizarre just how much of a nothingburger that has been turned into, not just in terms of the characters' lack of reaction to it but the way the narrative has just entirely failed to give it any weight or significance whatsoever. I can only assume that one of the other girls making a move to pursue Aqua (if it does end up happening) will kick Ruby into action and we'll get god knows what sort of resolution there but a dark and evil part of me that loves to start shit thinks that the funniest possible resolution would be for it to never come up or be referenced ever again just for the sheer frenzy of confusion and bafflement it would cause. everybody loses!!!

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #chapter reviews

[arshipweek]

AR Ship Week - Scorpia Backstory in the Book and the TV Show

This is the last weekly post in the lead up to Alex Rider Ship Week. Only one week left!

This week we have a guest post by @icebluecyanide​ about the differences between Scorpia in the book and TV canons.

Scorpia Backstory in the Book and the TV Show

After two seasons of ominous statements and mystery, series three of the TV show finally dove deeper into the criminal organisation known as Scorpia, and the way their history intertwines with Alex’s. But what is their backstory, and how does it differ from what we see in the books? 

In this meta, I will be diving into some of the changes in how Scorpia is presented in the book (Scorpia) and the TV show. Since this is a rather broad topic, and could potentially lead to me listing every single difference from the book, I will focus specifically on the Scorpia backstory and on the structure of Scorpia as an organisation.

I’ve used book quotes throughout this meta, including page numbers. The page numbers refer to the 2014 Walker Books (UK) edition.

Scorpia 

Let’s start this off by taking a look at how Scorpia is described in both the book and the show. I’ll first give an overview of Scorpia in the book, then move on to the TV show and do a comparison.

Scorpia in the book

Scorpia was all over the world. It had brought down two governments and arranged for a third to be unfairly elected. It had destroyed dozens of businesses, corrupted politicians and civil servants, engineered several major ecological disasters, and killed anyone who got in its way. It was now responsible for a tenth of the world’s terrorism, which it undertook on a contract basis. Scorpia liked to think of itself as the IBM of crime - but in fact, compared to Scorpia, IBM was strictly small-time. (Scorpia, p. 39)

In the book, Scorpia is a criminal organisation that has its roots in the early 1980s, during the last decade of the Cold War. As we learn in Scorpia (2004), it was founded by people who were involved in the Cold War as spies or assassins or secret police for various governments, and who realised that as the Cold War came to an end, they would be able to make more money going into business for themselves.

It was a fanciful name, they all knew it, invented by someone who had probably read too much James Bond. (Scorpia, p. 38)

The name of Scorpia is taken from their four fields of operation: Sabotage, Corruption, Intelligence and Asassination. They will take on any client that is willing to pay them, and don’t care about who gets caught in the crossfire. They’re a powerful organisation, and as Julia Rothman mentions, sometimes even the intelligence agencies make use of their services for jobs that cannot be traced back to them. They operate very much as a business, and they don’t make things personal, but they also are ruthless in getting even and don’t make hollow threats. Scorpia don’t forgive and they don’t forget.

Scorpia is led by an executive board consisting of the original founders. Of the original twelve, only nine remain at the time of the book, including Julia Rothman (the only woman on the board) and Max Grendel (the oldest executive). The executives on the board are equal partners, but for each project one of them is assigned as the leader, in alphabetical order. (It’s unclear how this works for The Australian, who in some editions doesn’t have a name.)

At the time of the book, the project that Scorpia is focused on is Invisible Sword, and the executive in command is Julia Rothman. There is a client, who is offering a great deal of money for Scorpia to break the special relationship between the UK and the US, and most of the Scorpia board seem unconcerned about the principal target of the weapon being children. The only exception to this is Max Grendel, who is old and has grandchildren of the same age, who has enjoyed getting rich working for Scorpia over the years, but who now wants to retire and not be a part of the new project. Sadly, his retirement gift is a suitcase full of deadly scorpions, so his retirement is rather brief.

Scorpia are an international company, with offices and people all over the world. However, Alex first runs into them in Venice, where Mrs Rothman has a large mansion on the grand canal that is referred to as the Widow’s Palace. On the island of Malagosto, near Venice, Scorpia also has a school where they have a training and testing facility for their assassins. This is where John Rider and Yassen Gregorovich were tested and trained, and it’s where Alex also takes part in lessons. 

Scorpia in the show

Blunt: At that time, we already knew that SCORPIA were the single most dangerous emergent threat since the Cold War. (3x07)

At first glance, the Scorpia we meet in the TV show appears to be from a canon divergent AU where the organisation was all but destroyed around the time when Alex was just a baby. This is a fascinating change, and also makes intuitive sense, as of course the third series of the show came out twenty years after Scorpia (2004) did. From the start, we get hints that Scorpia in the show is different from the one in the books. 

We first learn of the name Scorpia at the end of s1, as Mrs Jones and the rest of the Department realise that Yassen Gregorovich was behind Ian’s death, and that he is still alive. Going by the descriptions we are given, Scorpia was as powerful in the past as they were when Alex met them in the book:

Smithers: I know the file, of course. At one point, they were responsible for a tenth of the world’s terrorism. 

Crawley: And political assassinations, personal vendettas. All available to the highest bidder, without remorse or compunction. (1x08)

In 2006, Scorpia was taken down by the Department, in a well-coordinated operation based on the info John Rider was able to gather. Alan Blunt was in command as all over the world, the bases and known locations of Scorpia were raided. In the chaos, some members of Scorpia went missing and managed to escape, such as Julia Rothman and Yassen Gregorovich, but when they failed to resurface in the five years that followed, their files were closed and they were assumed to be dead.

After this, Scorpia seem to have retreated to the shadows, and operated almost entirely in secret. While they no longer have the same presence in the world, they still have both funds and technology to continue their work. They have no problem spending several millions to fake the payment for the assassination of the US president in season 2 at Yassen’s request, and they have a system set in place with a phone line that can be reached only with a specifically assigned code, or else the number will be disconnected, as we see when the Department pretend to call as Martin Wilby to determine who he got his orders from. In the first two seasons, Scorpia took jobs such as helping with Dr Greif’s plan at Point Blanc, and Damian Cray’s Eagle Strike plan, and they still appear as ruthless as in the book, not caring about the deaths those plans would cause.

At first, we mostly encounter Scorpia in the scenes with the Department, where Scorpia (through Yassen) have turned Martin Wilby to pass on information about the Department and got him to lure Ian Rider to his death at Yassen’s hand. Interestingly, Ian appears to be the only person still looking for Scorpia:

Crawley: I don’t think they ever went away. I think they just got better at hiding. And we were so confident we’d finished them. Only Ian was still looking, of course. (1x08)

Ian seems to have been aware of Yassen’s survival, and presumably who he works for (“Oh Martin, you have no idea who you’re working for.” - 1x01), but none of the rest of the Department have any idea until Alex mentions having seen Yassen at Point Blanc:

Blunt: Scorpia.Mrs Jones: It explains everything. The sophistication, the global reach, and Wilby. Given our history, of course they would target us.Crawley: But we finished them.Blunt: Well, clearly not. (1x08)

In season three, we see Alex (together with Tom and Kyra) actively looking for Scorpia by visiting old locations mentioned in the files on Smither’s phone (that Kyra stole). These include Berlin and Venice, where presumably Julia Rothman had her Palace like in the book. They end up finding Julia in Malta, where she is from. This is a change from the books, where she is Welsh. We meet Nile, her apparent second-in-command, and Max Grendel, who apparently also survived the takedown.

As Alex is pulled into Scorpia, we also learn that they are planning an operation called Invisible Sword. Unlike in the book, this is not a job they took on for a client, but something Julia Rothman came up with personally. As the season goes on, we discover that while she explained it as a way to demonstrate Scorpia’s power and boost their reputation, the real objective was to take revenge against the Department for the blow they dealt Scorpia seventeen years ago.

Scorpia Leadership

Let’s narrow in further for a moment on the question of who is in charge in Scorpia. There do appear to be some changes in the leadership of Scorpia in the TV show, and part of these can be explained by the canon divergence, while others suggest that perhaps this has always been a different Scorpia. Firstly, it’s good to note that instead of talking about an executive board, the leadership are referred to as council members:

Nile: I wondered if perhaps one of the other council members decided to push their luck. (3x01) 

In general, the show appears to have less of a ‘business’ vibe compared to the book. It may be that this is a change that only came with the new Scorpia, but this may also always have been different in this universe. Similarly, we hear that Julia Rothman was elected as leader, which suggests that also the way of picking a leader isn’t the rotated schedule from the books. It appears that Julia Rothman has been elected after the failed jobs with Dr Greif and Damian Cray, in an attempt to bring Scorpia back to prominence.

Razim: We elected you because you promised to restore our influence globally. And so far, we have seen nothing. (3x01)

Speaking of Razim, we get another change from the book. The name Razim is a reference to one of the new board members brought on in Scorpia Rising in the books, and he wasn’t present in the original Scorpia book. It makes sense that with most of the organisation taken down years ago, they will have filled their ranks with new members. However, there is some suggestion that perhaps Razim was actually part of Scorpia leadership before Julia:

Julia: Razim’s always resented me. He thinks when Nicolai died, inherited my place at the table. (3x01)

Julia Rothman

Max: And besides, we both know you earned your place. (3x01)

It appears that unlike in the books, Julia Rothman was not a founding member of Scorpia in the show. This also matches up with what we learn about her from the Department file on her, where it states she ‘possesses broad knowledge of Scorpia Operational Structure and is being groomed for command’. She was most likely part of the inner circle through her husband Nicolai, given the comment about inheriting her place.

Nicolai Rothman/Mrs Rothman’s husband definitely appears to have been alive and married to her for longer in the TV show than in the book, although in both she is eventually known as the Widow.:

Mrs Rothman’s multimillionaire husband had fallen to his death from a seventeenth-storey window. It had happened just two days after their marriage. (Scorpia, p. 45)

Also an amusing detail is that in the book Nicolai Rothman is a multimillionaire, while in the TV show he’s referred to as a billionaire. Julia Rothman is canonically richer in the TV show!

Malagosto

Let’s take a moment also to look at the differences in how Malagosto is portrayed in the two canons. In both the show and the book, Malagosto is a training facility for Scorpia operatives, but that appears to be where the similarities end. The location is different in the two canons, with it being on an island near Venice in the book, and on Malta in the show. Specifically, we discover that there is a Scorpia base located underground in an old Cold War listening post on Malta. It might be that the original location had to be abandoned after Scorpia was raided, but the fact that The Department show no recognition to the name later suggests that they have never heard of it before. Definitely, the base in Malta was not known before. 

This raises some questions about whether John Rider actually trained at Malagosto in the show as he did in the book. We do have the following quote from Julia Rothman, which if taken literally suggests that he was on Malta with Alex:

Julia: Twenty years ago, your father stood where you are now. Ready to join Scorpia. (3x04)

However, if John trained at Malagosto, it is strange that this location wasn’t known to the Department or raided in the operation to take down Scorpia. So perhaps the quote should be taken metaphorically, with Alex being about to join Scorpia as his dad was, and perhaps John never trained with Scorpia. After all, in the book, he was likely only tested rather than trained, so he may have been tested elsewhere and simply put to work.

THE STUDENTS

Another difference related to Malagosto concerns the students or recruits who are present when Alex is there. In the book, d’Arc (the principal or headmaster of the school) mentions that there are usually around ten to fifteen students. Most of them appear to be people who were either part of the intelligence world or soldiers who have defected:

Alex knew all of them by now. There was Klaus, a German mercenary who had trained with the Taliban in Afghanistan. Walker, who had spent five years with the CIA in Washington before deciding he could earn more working for the other side. (Scorpia, p. 174)

They are people similar to John Rider, who already have had training of some sort that makes them suitable for Scorpia. In this sense, the school is firstly a testing facility, where Scorpia checks if people have the right skills to become part of Scorpia. Alex himself is an exception due to his age, but as d’Arc and Mrs Rothman discuss, he already has experience from both his missions and his uncle’s and MI6’s training. The other students are all older, but treat Alex surprisingly well and are friendly to him.

In the show, the recruits are all orphans and likely closer in age to Alex himself. There is no indication that Alex himself is an outlier in terms of his age. The other recruits also don’t appear to have had prior training if we take Alyona and Oleg as examples. They seem to have been children without families, either taken from orphanages or similar. Some, like Oleg, may have shown a propensity for violence which drew Scorpia’s interest, but they were not the trained soldiers or intelligence agents we see in the books.

This change could perhaps have been a result of Scorpia needing to operate from the shadows. While in the books they could recruit rather blatantly and without worrying about being noticed, they have tried to keep a low profile in the show. Perhaps they have shifted to training teenagers into operatives instead, as they have ‘No baggage, no background. It helps.’ (3x04).

It’s also noteworthy that there are only four other students aside from Alex present at Malagosto. Again, this is easily explained by Scorpia having shrunk in size and operating in more secrecy, and no doubt it made it easier for them to make the commitment of training teenagers. Sadly for Alex, they are not as nice as in the book, and he gets beaten up for being seen as weak on his first day there.

THE BUILDINGS

Another change seems to be in the buildings themselves. As mentioned, Malagosto in the show is located in an old listening post dating back to the Cold War, and that’s reflected in the lack of natural light and the bare, metallic and industrial vibes of the interior. The listening post also appears to be on a remote part of the island, but all that’s visible on the surface is a few abandoned buildings, and Scorpia seem to keep their presence low-key. 

In the book, we see the same outside appearance of abandoned buildings, as Scorpia has retrofitted an old monastery for their needs. The appearance is deceptive, however, as the insides have been modernised and Alex’s own room is much more luxurious than the one he gets in the show:

They left the main building and walked over to the nearest apartment block that Alex had seen from the boat. Again, the building looked dilapidated from the outside but it was elegant and modern inside. Jet showed Alex to an air-conditioned room on the second floor. It was on two levels, with a king-sized bed overlooking a large living space with sofas and a desk. There were french windows with a balcony and a sea view. (Scorpia, p. 164)

Alex was left alone. He sat down on one of the sofas, noticing that the room had a fridge, a television and even a PlayStation 2 - presumably put in for his benefit. (Scorpia, p. 165)

The other buildings are similarly updated, and students can train outside as the island is sheltered by trees and away from the mainland. It makes sense that in the show this is less of an option, because Scorpia are much more motivated to keep their presence hidden from the authorities. In the book, they have a legal reason to be there, as they bought the island on a lease from the Italian government, but in a world where Scorpia is assumed to be destroyed, they would need to be more careful. This explains why we only see the students go outside once for training, and that was during a night incursion exercise.

THE TEACHERS

Malagosto is a training facility, and a training facility needs instructors. This plays a larger role in the book, where we are introduced to several of the teachers at Malagosto in Alex’s time there. There is Gordon Ross, the technical specialist who teaches about weapons and explosives, Professor Yermalov, who teaches martial arts and practical skills, and Ejijit “Jet” Binnag, who teaches Botany (focused on poisonous plants). There are classrooms and textbooks and lessons as if it were a real school, but also more practical lessons such as diving and gun practice.

In the show, it’s a bit unclear who normally teaches at Malagosto. We only see two people acting as instructor – Nile and Yassen – and Yassen appears to have been assigned to Alex as a tutor rather than having general teaching duties. Nile appears to take on the role of instructor, but we also see him running around taking care of things for Julia Rothman outside, so he can’t be a full-time teacher. Perhaps we simply don’t see other instructors (much like how we don’t see the catering at Malagosto), or the training is handled more informally, with students working on their skill individually as we saw Syl doing in her first appearance.

One other thing related to the teaching at Malagosto is that in the book, John Rider is mentioned to have been an instructor there. During this time, he was also in charge of Yassen’s training for a while. This isn’t mentioned in the show, and while we get Alex asking if John trained with Yassen, we never get an answer. As Malagosto wasn’t known to the Department, as mentioned before, John was probably not a teacher in this universe.

Since we already touched on him briefly, let now take a look at John Rider and his mission to dive deeper into some of the changes.

John’s mission

Blunt: The intelligence John gathered during that time enabled us to strike at the very heart of Scorpia. Within months, we’d dismantled their entire operation. (3x07)

Based on what we are told, John’s mission is largely the same in both the book and the series. We learn that John was a decorated soldier who was in the Parachute Regiment and had seen combat before (in Afghanistan and Iraq in the show, Northern Ireland, Gambia, and the Falklands in the book). But everything seemed to go wrong for him when he killed a man in a bar fight, and was sentenced for manslaughter. 

He goes to jail for two years in the show, while in the book Mrs Rothman claims he was there for less than one, and there is some ambiguity about whether he went to jail at all:

“Everything Julia Rothman thought she knew about your father was a lie.” Mrs Jones sighed. “It’s true that he had been in the army, that he had a distinguished career with the Parachute Regiment and that he was decorated for his part in the Falklands War. But the rest of it — the fight with the taxi driver, the prison sentence and all that — we made up. It’s called deep cover, Alex. We wanted John Rider to be recruited by Scorpia. He was the bait and they took him.” (Scorpia, p. 347)

Scorpia took the bait, and John was recruited by Scorpia. In the show, we learn that John spent three years embedded in Scorpia, learning names and details about the organisation, including their long term goals and ambitions. In the book, the timeline is fuzzier, but we know he spent several months in the field as an assassin before working as an instructor at Malagosto. We are simply told that he ‘had told [MI6] as much as [they] needed to know about Scorpia’ (Scorpia, p. 348).

The reasons for breaking off the mission were similar then in both the show and the book. The risks were increasing, John had discovered most of what he set out to discover, and Helen was pregnant with Alex and John wanted to be with his family. In the book, we also specifically learn that there was a risk due to Julia Rothman, who had fallen in love with him. 

This is a point where the canons seem to deviate slightly, because the show is more explicit about John being asked to get close to Julia Rothman. The file on the Widow (Julia Rothman’s codename) mentions that a Department operative Hunter (John Rider) was assigned to develop a relationship. Julia Rothman herself told Alex that his dad was a ‘very close friend’ of hers, and showed him what are clearly love letters describing John’s feelings for her (3x03). 

Now, some of this is also in the book. Julia Rothman tells Alex she was very attracted to his father, and that he was a handsome man. And one of the letters from the show is taken straight from the book: 

My dearest Julia, A dreary time without you. Can’t wait to be at the Widow’s Palace with you again. John R. (Scorpia, p. 151)

Interestingly, we do see that Julia apparently went by her code name despite the fact that she and John became close enough over the years that she passed him information about Scorpia. John himself was known as Hunter to the Department rather than this being his Scorpia code name like in the book (although the code name isn’t mentioned in Scorpia itself). He signs the letter with his initials JR in the show, and she clearly knew him as John Rider.

It’s well possible given the way Julia Rothman doesn’t mention Alex’s mother in her initial story to Alex about John, that she was not aware at the time that he was married or that John was already with Helen. In the book, she specifically mentions that while she was attracted to him, he was married to Alex’s mother, suggesting that they never acted on the attraction.

The story of John’s capture is roughly the same, there is a trap set for him (on Malta in the book), and he is captured. A few weeks later, Scorpia kidnap a senior British civil servant (or his son, in the book) and MI6/The Department make them an offer to return John Rider to them in an exchange. This takes place on Albert Bridge in the book, while in the show it’s on another bridge somewhere. John’s death is faked, and the idea is that he will be given a new identity along with Helen and Alex so they can live quietly and without Scorpia knowing he was actually a spy.

This is the point where we get the biggest divergence in the backstory, as in the show the information gathered by John’s mission is enough to take down most of Scorpia. The operation is largely orchestrated by Alan Blunt, which is part of why Julia Rothman’s plot in the show is also aimed at him:

Mrs Jones: I’ve been looking at how we brought down SCORPIA 17 years ago. Really was an astonishing operation. Dozens of agents. Coordinates across three continents. Forty-seven key figures, dead or arrested. The entire SCORPIA hierarchy decimated overnight. You waged a private war against Scorpia, made it your mission. (3x06)

It’s not specified whether the take down of Scorpia happened before or after John and Helen’s plane was blown up by a bomb. Blunt tells Alex that ‘within months’ they were able to dismantle Scorpia’s entire operation, while Julia Rothman took six months to track John down. It seems more likely that Scorpia was taken down first, as this would give the Department an extra reason not to suspect Julia Rothman as being behind the bomb on the plane. Blunt’s reaction to Alex’s suggestion that it was Julia Rothman suggests that they didn’t have a clear suspect for all those years, which makes sense if Scorpia were believed to be defeated and not heard from again (aside from the bombing of the plane itself). WIth Scorpia gone, it also makes sense that perhaps someone became too careless in hiding the fact that John Rider is alive, as there would have been less reason to worry. 

In the book, we are first told merely that there was a bomb on the plane, which exploded and killed John and Helen and the pilots instantly. Mrs Jones and Alan Blunt seem to have no doubt about it being Julia Rothman, who had discovered the truth, although they are not clear on how she learned about it. MI6 learned valuable information about Scorpia through John’s time as an undercover spy, but they either don’t know enough to take Scorpia down for good or they don’t act on their information. 

In a way, the book takes a more cynical approach to the relationship between Scorpia and MI6. Scorpia are too large to take down completely, and any half-hearted effort to destroy them will lead Scorpia to seek revenge. And if you can’t beat them… As Julia Rothman herself points out, the secret services may nominally oppose Scorpia, but they are not above making use of their services:

The secret services can’t do anything about us. We’re too big and they’ve left it too late. Anyway, occasionally some of them make use of us. They pay us to do their dirty work for them. We’ve learnt to live side by side! (Scorpia, p. 132) 

Wrapping it all up

So what does it all add up to? As we’ve seen, the show’s portrayal of Scorpia shows an organisation that was nearly brought down seventeen years ago, and that has been operating in secrecy ever since. This single divergence explains most of the differences that we see in the present day structure of Scorpia, from younger recruits to the new leadership. However, we also saw that some aspects have always been different in this universe. The code names for both Julia Rothman and John, as well as the fact that John never mentioned Malagosto show that the backstory in the show was different even before Scorpia was taken down.

In the end, Scorpia is a different organisation in the book and the show, but in many ways it is also still the same. They are a group of people who are ruthless in their pursuit of power and money, who have no compunction about killing and even enjoy it. Scorpia may have been brought to the brink of destruction in the show, but even while hidden from the world, they have been able to keep up their activity for seventeen years. 

Until they encountered Alex Rider, that is… :) 

#Alex Rider #arshipweek #meta #mod posts #julia rothman #scorpia

[its-in-the-woods]

Chapter 2 of down the rabbit hole

Chapter one here chap three

MDNI

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating: Not much for this, brief mention of SA, mention of alcohol.

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

WARNING I do not have this all written out, I do have it plotted out, but it may be a little slower for chapters to come out. Please bear with me. If you know a Beta to edit please send them to me.

*Before we get into things. Thank you 100x for all the love. It means the world to me*

Somehow four weeks have slipped by. As always, TV series runs like a machine on fire while driving through a snowstorm. Long days, and even longer nights. You wonder briefly why you chose a profession that meant you average four to five hours of sleep. But then Walton brings the whole trailer their favorite coffee and you just shrug the thought off. Working with the cast and crew was like being in one big dysfunctional family. One part hated each other, one part was fucking each other, and another part just held on for the ride. You liked to think you were in the last group, but sometimes when you caught Liz glowering at you, you wondered if maybe you were in the first group. 

“Why does she hate me?” You ask Trevor as you try to eat lunch. Fish wasn’t your first choice but it’s what they had had. 

“Who?” Trevor asks, munching on some strawberries, how the man ate as much as he did and remained tiny was amazing. 

“Liz.” You sigh moving your fork around the plate.

“Liz hates everyone, don’t take it personally.” He grabbed a couple more pieces of fruit. 

“Have you seen the way she looks at me? Like, why bring me onboard if she was just gonna avoid me like the plague?”

“She’s jealous of you.”

You turn and raise your eyebrows at him. “What are you talking about?”

Trevor lets out a snort and chomps down on some cheese. “Girl. Don’t play down your talents. You have worked your damn ass off to get here. One of the best makeup artists out there and Liz knows it. Why do you think Mr. Goggins likes you so much?”

You shrug and pick through your food, the fish was not sitting particularly well. “I am not better than anyone else.”

Trevor swats at you playfully, “Shut up. You can wrangle through asshole actors like no one else. You take zero shit from anyone and you get stuff done on time or before they are needed. You’ll be one of the most valued artists in town in no time.” He chuckles and pushes his own plate away. “Just make sure you bring me along with you.”

You grin back at him. Trevor had never jerked you around like most others. He was right, you did a good job and people appreciated your blatant lack of kiss assery. You fiddle with your fork for a moment before deciding that you had enough for the day. 

***

It was Thursday, which meant the week was almost over. The end was in sight and your bed was calling your name. You’d probably sleep the weekend away and indulge in some overpriced Chinese food. Your thoughts about sweet and sour pork are broken when someone announces they are coming in. Liz walks in and looks you up and down. Dear god, that woman has a chip on her shoulder. She went and pulled out a couple of empty totes. 

“It’s going to be you and Trevor tomorrow and the following week.” She says her lips pressed firmly together, as she talks she goes through drawers grabbing different products.  “Walton is here doing some scenes, Laura will also be here but she shouldn’t be on camera. If she is, I've emailed you notes and pictures.”

You nod, not bothering to look at her as you continue to wash your brushes. Liz continued to add to her bin.  “Sounds good.”

“Look, I know we haven’t been exactly- Friendly.” You turn to look at the woman, she is putting the lid on to the tote. Writing info on a sheet of paper on the top. “But, you do a good job. The director has been very happy with everything. “

“Thank you.” You reply, giving her a small smile. “I appreciate that Liz.”

Liz nods back at you and grabs the tote, waddling out the door. It’s probably the closest you’ve come to liking her. You sit there for a moment, taking in the compliment, maybe things are changing for the better. 

***

Friday is here, and you decided to bring some timbits to celebrate the end of the week. The usually bustling studio lot was quiet. Construction and Set Dec had busied themselves with various other needs. It was refreshing to have a little quiet. You had even been able to park your car right beside the trailer. As much as you loved the absolute chaos that was a film set, the calm was a nice balm. You knew that before long you would miss the chaos, and it would be back with vengeance. 

Laying things out you felt like you could breathe. You had put on some gothic country on the stero, something that only you and Trevor really enjoyed. Both of you had moved from rural areas to do your job. It was another reason why you enjoyed his company. Trevor had set himself up on the second workspace, the two of you spreading out a little while the boss was away. 

“Hello. Lady and gentleman,” Walton’s voice shrill as he came up the stairs. The man was a never-ending ball of energy. You were positive you could do a month of night shooting and he still would come in chipper as if it was his first day. 

“Hey Walt,” Trevor said with a grin, it was hard not to be happy around the man.

“Excited for the weekend?” You ask as you drape him with a cape, popping off his sunglasses and grabbing his other glasses off the counter. As he rereads some lines. 

“I sure am. It feels like it’s been an extra long week.” He sighed, rubbing at his hazel eyes before grabbing a timbit. “These things are delicious, I am going to steal the whole box..” 

You slap playfully at his hand.“Hey now! Make sure I get a few” He gives you a crooked smile and holds one up. You don’t hesitate to lean forward and let him feed it to you. He swallows and looks up at you, as the realization dawns on you as to what you just did. 

“Well-Umm- Next week doesn’t look to bad,” Trevor pipes, shooting you a look, his voice squeaking slightly.

“This is true, just the three of us enjoying a few short days,” Walton says, you are desperately trying to move past what just happened as you grab a moisturizer and apply it gently. His eyes follow you.

“I can certainly say I will enjoy not having to drive all over the place.” You reply, trying not to let your cheeks flush. Reminding yourself sternly that you were a professional and for Pete’s sake you’d been working together for over a month now. 

“You have the craziest eyes.” He whispers as the two of you look at each other. There is no way of hiding the fact your cheeks are burning. Trevor graciously comes over and starts to fuss with his hair. 

“Thank you,” You reply, words caught in your throat. Turning to start packing your set bag, anything to hide the fact that you were bright red. You look up to see Trevor raising his eyebrows at you. You look away and finish things up before sending Walton off to set.

“What was that?” Trevor drawled as he slid into the chair, the look on his face made you want to crawl under the counter. 

“What was what?” You try to dismiss things even if your face is on fire. What the hell had just happened?

“He just fed you a damn donut hole and you are blushing all over Goggins?” Trevor pushes fiddling with a comb, and you really want to throw something at him. 

You freeze a bit and look up at him in the mirror. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what? See the fact that you two have been goggling over each other for the last four weeks. You just ate food out of his fingers. Wait what does he taste good?’

You do throw a powder puff at him. “You. You stop it. I don’t know what the hell I was doing. It just kind of happened.” 

Yes, you had noticed the little things, but really the man was friendly with everyone. He had always been touchy-feely, but maybe there had been more that you had missed, including eating food out of his fingers. You remember him kissing you on the cheek yesterday morning before leaving. But there couldn’t be anything there, there was nothing there you repeated to yourself. 

“Oh give me a break. He brings you coffee and touches, and kisses your cheek every day. The man has been fawning all over you.”

You bite your lip and turn to look at your colleague, ‘He does that with everyone, Trevor. He’s just friendly.”

You’re now madly stuffing stuff into your bag trying to get out of this newly warm trailer. Trevor snorts and puts his things into his bag. You wish he would drop it, but he was never good at leaving things alone. 

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” He giggles in an imitation Southern drawl. The two of you hop out of the trailer. You aren’t sure whether to smack him or hug him, either way, there is a job to be done. 

***

It was a textbook day, Walton had nailed almost everything. The man could act there was no doubt about that. The character was a belligerent drunk detective trying to solve a cold case. The script was dark, moody, and well horrible. You didn’t shy away from horror, but true crime always made your stomach flipflop. Your stomach also flipped as you watched Walton go from looking like he was gonna bite someone's head off, to all smiles and laughter. 

You, Trevor, and Walton are walking back to the trailer together. It was actually sunny out, a rare moment for the Pacific Northwest. Costumes had been busy with some extras so you decided to start with him and finish with the others. 

“So do you two have any plans for the weekend?” Walton asks, walking in between both of you.

“I think I might have a date on Saturday,” Trevor replied cheerfully. 

“Oooh and who's the lucky fella?” Walton sing-songed.

Trevor looked flush for a moment, “Decon, from props actually.”

Walton chuckles elbowing Trevor “Well that sounds like an excellent Saturday. Man is gonna have some fun.”

Trevor shakes their head and rolls his eyes “He better show or I am going to have to send you both after him”

Walton bares his teeth and growls, which send everyone into a fit of giggles. Decon be aware, there was a madman coming for you. You thought as you get to the trailer opening the door.

“And what about you, little lady,” Walton drawls, that damn southern accent creeping in. 

“Nothing special. Think sleep and Chinese food are calling my name.” You reply as everyone settles in. Really that would be the best way to end the weekend. 

“Oh, Chinese food sounds amazing.” Trevor pipes in, turning on some tunes. 

“Who needs sleep, it's not that important.” Walton chides as you get to work. “I was wondering if you both would like to come to a small bar not far from here. Transport can drive us there and back, a few of us are getting together for some drinks.”

You catch Trevor's gaze, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Oh, I would love that! Little get-together with our mess of a family.”

“What about you?” The lead asks, rubbing your arm. His hands are warm, you’re surprised to feel a few calluses on his fingers. 

“Oh. Yeah sure. That would be good.” You give a small smile, trying not to let your mind wander too far. If you were honest, the prospect of getting together with a bunch of coworkers was low on your want list. But the look on Trevor's face tells you that you aren't allowed to say no. Your stomach clenches as the memory of a wrap party gone wrong rumbles past your mind. You push that down. It had been almost seven years since that happened, these were different people. People you knew and trusted.

“Fantastic, I am excited to have you both there,” Walton exclaims before closing his eyes to let you finish your job. 

Once Walton is released to Costume, you and Trevor busy yourself with cleaning the trailer. Getting extras cleaned up and making sure everything is ready for the early morning come Monday. You can tell Trevor has been watching you but you can't make yourself say anything. Anxiety has pooled in your stomach like a cold stone and you are struggling to shake it.

“What's wrong?” Trevor asks bluntly sitting down in a free chair. You shake your head and keep your hands moving.

“Come on now. I've never seen you get this clammed up over an invitation to a party. To be fair I've actually never seen you go to a party–” Trevor’s words trail off realization washing over his face. “I know you like your peace, and quiet, but what is going on”

You collapse into the other chair with a deep sigh. Trying to find the words, you really didn't want to explain things too much. That said if there was anyone who'd understand it be Trevor.

“When I first got into the industry.” Your mouth feels so dry even at the thought of it. You grab your water bottle taking a swig.“I went to a wrap party. Got drunk and a guy from Sound took advantage of me. So I've never gone to one since.”

Trevor looks shocked, sadness creeping in at the words. “Hon.That is awful.”

“It happened almost a decade ago. It's fine. Just makes me nervous.” You let out a breath. You weren't going for sympathy, despite it being the worst night of your life, all you wanted was understanding.

Trevor comes over and gives you a big hug. You feel tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. As you let yourself sag against him. You were so thankful for this man, that he was understanding and seemed to care about you. 

“Honey, nothing like that is gonna happen to you tonight. We'll go together and enjoy ourselves. And if any man or woman tries to hurt you I will beat them with my handbag” Trevor reassures you with a small smile. You both chuckle at the last statement 

You sniffle a little, grabbing a tissue from the counter to dab at your eyes. “Thank you, Trevor”

He gives you a reassuring nod as you both get ready to go out. You were determined to make it a good night one way or another. 

Chapter three

Maybe.. maybe.. I will post the next chapter tomorrow cause I am too excited not to share it. Likes, comments, and reblogs are so greatly appreciated. Y'all keep this northern person happy.

#walton goggins #fanfic #au #alternate universe #walton goggins x reader #walton goggins x you #fantasy #writer #creative writing

[coolestzed]

Alright, I’ve been holding this inside for years but I’m finally gonna say it.

Misako haters are actually fucking annoying at this point.

They always were to me, but now, they’re just OBJECTIVELY an annoyance. And they need to STOP.

They take literally ANY chance to slander her, even when it’s completely unwarranted. Like, I’d just look at a picture of her on Pinterest, and there’d be multiple comments going "the world’s worst mother". Or I’d see content about Koko and there’d always be comments comparing her and Misako and going like "Koko way better fuck Misako".

I’d even see a fucking meme and people would slander Misako. Like they couldn’t resist.

And that’s not even mentioning his people constantly make her seem way worse than she actually is. Im not gonna quote everything, but basically they act like she never does good things for Lloyd. That she doesn’t care about him at all! And it’s just- so WILDY out of character!! And it’s the same vice versa! I saw a funny Ninjago video the other day with a "your mom" joke and someone in the comments was like "jokes on you, Lloyd would never call Misako mom". I’m just?????? Yes he DOES????? ALL THE TIME???

People just act like their relationship is nonexistent! Like they don’t care about each other, or that Misako doesn’t care about Lloyd! Which is OBVIOUSLY not true!

People claim that she disappears every other season but the only seasons she was absent in are 12 and 13. Also, she has a job. She goes on expeditions. Obviously she’s not there 100% of the time. And she and Lloyd clearly spend time together off screen.

People don’t even acknowledge the reason why she left in the first place. They act like she dropped him off at a boarding school and dipped to take a vaycay. She was literally trying to stop her husband and son from having to fight to the death. You ever think about that? You ever think about how SHE felt in the situation? With her husband being consumed by evil and later being banished, and learning that he and their son would have to fight each other? She was HORRIFIED and GRIEVING! Ultimately she did it to save her family. It doesn’t make leaving Lloyd right but it’s understandable.

But apparently not to almost all of the fandom.

Most of y’all, completely ignore that, and everything else that came after season 2.

Misako constantly being worried about Lloyd in Tournament of Elements and Possession.

Both of them spending Day of the Departed together.

Her getting/building the Destiny’s Shadow as a birthday gift for Lloyd.

How she supported, fought beside, and risked her life for Lloyd in Hunted.

How she wanted to stay and fight with him during MoTO but only went inside because Lloyd urged her to protect the civilians.

Not to mention just their general interactions. THEY’RE ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER!!! Do you know how many times they hug?!

And this dialogue here:

"Aren’t you going to kiss your mother goodbye?"

"Mooom, we've-we've talked about this-"

WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!

Lloyd and Misako have a good, healthy and loving relationship. Misako has long since made up for her mistake and they’ve moved on.

Yet THE FANDOM REFUSES TO!!!

EVERYONE, TO THIS DAY, STILL TREATS HER LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL!!!

I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE HAVE HAD OVERDRAMATIC TANTRUMS FROM HER JUST EXISTING.

IT MAKES ME SO UNREASONABLY ANGRY.

AND THE FACT THAT I’VE SOMEHOW BEEN SEEING EVEN MORE MISAKO HATE DURING AND AFTER MOTHERS DAY IS ACTUALLY APPALLING.

NOT EVEN FUCKING ENDEAVOR FROM MHA GETS THIS MUCH HATE AND HE’S DONE MUCH WORSE TO HIS FAMILY.

IT. HAS. BEEN. OVER. 16. SEASONS. AND. A. MOVIE.

GET. OVER. IT.

*deep breath*

Look, she’s not perfect. Obviously. She fucked up. But who in this series hasn’t? She came back, and she’s made sure to be a better mother to Lloyd. He forgave her, and they have a good relationship now. They’re close.

She wouldn’t be as hated if the writers didn’t do her dirty. Her introduction wasn’t handled the best, and having her and Lloyd have a more in depth discussion would’ve made the reunion and forgiveness feel less rushed and forced. That love triangle with Wu and Garmadon certainly didn’t do her any favors either. 😑

Regardless, her character’s gotten better over the seasons. Again, she and Lloyd and close and have a good relationship.

But hardly anyone acknowledges that, almost everyone in the fandom hyper fixates on that one mistake from years ago. They don’t pay attention to anything else. Like how she’s a better mother, or how she’s just a generally good person.

You aren’t supposed to judge characters or irl people solely on their past mistakes. Especially when they’ve already made up for them. Thats why the "Misako’s a horrible mother" statement is always bullshit to me.

Seriously, Misako’s been a part of Lloyd’s life longer than she’s been absent from it at this point.

The amount of passionate, unforgiving hate she gets is so undeserved and over the top. Too many people are projecting their own issues onto her. Or just being plain hateful. It’s not fair to define her entire character on a single mistake that she’s long made up for.

And it’s definitely not fair to people that actually like Misako. Often times on the few positive posts about her, there’d be Misako haters in the notes or reblogs complaining about her or insulting her, or just stating they hate her but love the content. And that is completely uncool and rude. It’s so unnecessary. You don’t do that, that’s so shitty. The again Misako haters have a habit of spouting unnecessary hate. Like it’s a terminal condition they have.

So, please, for the love of god, COOL IT. Stop and think, try to ACTUALLY look at her character without the veil of blind hatred.

If you still dislike or hate her, fine! But if you’re gonna detest her, at least hate her as she is and don’t make her worse than she actually is to justify hating her more.

And PLEASE stop bashing her at every turn, it’s annoying, upsetting, unwarranted, unnecessary, and just not good.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#ninjago #ninjago misako #misako garmadon #rant post #I may revive backlash for this #I don’t care #I’m so fucking done with this fandom #the hate is actually so ridiculous #y’all can live without constantly putting down a misunderstood character #Misako Defender For Life

[mermaidsirennikita]

Louis de Pointe du Lac, as originally written, could be regarded as one of lit's most famous "also rans", someone who was originally positioned as Thee Tragic Figure of the series, only to be almost immediately superseded both in the readers' and the author's minds with Lestat. Like, you know Louis because of the original book, but Lestat is the one everyone talks about, Lestat drives the rest of the series, Lestat has all the best lines.

And the movie, as much as I personally don't like it, only sort of dug this further into the pop cultural understanding of the story. Brad Pitt is at his most "I am relying on pretty" boring and sulky; when there is a performance, it's largely annoying. And Tom Cruise... I mean, it's literally nothing next to what Sam Reid does in my mind, but it was at least very off-brand for him at the time, and he was doing SOMETHING, and he (and Kirsten Dunst) have the most iconic Moments, the camp, the arguably most memorable part of the movie (the very end with the Sympathy for the Devil cover playing us off).

So it's honestly SUCH a testament to the innovation of the show's writing and the brilliance of Jacob Anderson's performance that Louis has been reinvented, not only as a compelling protagonist, but as a character that is EASILY as complex and multilayered as more traditionally antiheroic/villainous types like Lestat and Armand and Claudia. He's more than the beautiful, tragic object of Lestat and Armand's affections, he's more than the guy telling us the story.

Louis is self-loathing and self-aggrandizing; he's victimized by Lestat, and he manipulates Lestat, very aware of his own emotional hold over him (might we note how much agency Louis had over Claudia's turning, and how Lestat in no way would've done that if not for Louis... and that act was arguably one of the most selfish in the series, if emotionally understandable). He's controlled by Armand, yet we get hints that he's actually quite dangerous and perhaps in some sort of self-delusion about just how dangerous he is (and Assad certainly plays Armand like he's nervous as fuck about Louis knowing the truth--and I don't think that's JUST about the possibility of Louis leaving him once he finds out).

Louis tells himself that he loved Claudia more than anything and that she was his "spark in the dark", when we see that in reality their relationship deteriorated over time and continued to do so, even after the person who was seemingly a wedge in their relationship was vanquished. We see hints, perhaps, that Claudia was no more the ideal daughter in his mind than Lestat was the ideal lover.

And that last scene in the premiere? When we're not sure who the "you" is? Sad and kind of horrifying, too. Because like--what will Louis do to Claudia to further his own love and obsessions? Who does Louis prioritize more--Claudia, Lestat, Armand? Maybe none of the above. Maybe himself and what or who he thinks will stave off his own loneliness, his need for love and validation and, yes, power.

None of this is a criticism of the character. The show already did something SO good and SO smart by turning Louis from a white slave owner to a Black man with money and social standing, still so held back by the laws and environment of his day. Vampirism gave him agency, yet the show, in season one, showed the potential for Louis to still be the perpetual tragic victim (in episode five especially). And maybe they'll still slip up and do that.

But increasingly, with the reveal in the s1 finale and the s2 premiere, I think we're getting the implication that the thing Louis could be protecting himself from mentally (with some help from Armand--I don't think Louis's memory issues are all Vampire Magic, though) is something horrible that he did. A choice he made. Because Louis does have agency, and the narrative allows him to be someone with conflicted desires and a complicated sense of self. Someone who doesn't love PRETTILY. Someone who is manipulated and manipulates.

Like, I've joked about him being this kind of like vampiric Helen of Troy because of the allure he holds for powerful figures like Lestat and Armand, but I also think it's so powerful to explore the way that Louis uses that appeal and ALSO makes fucked up decisions on his own because he is... into being adored, frankly. Even if the people who adore him also hurt him. He gets caught up in his own romanticized retellings of his life story, whether heartfelt or tragic, because in those retellings he can pretend that he had no choice, he had no ability to say otherwise.

But like--Louis could have stopped that woman from being decapitated, potentially. Louis didn't have to walk away from human affairs. He chose to do so, just like he chose to beg Lestat to turn Claudia. Just like he chose to deny her Lestat's true death.

And I think there's like, an attempt to reckon with this in the unreliable narration of the books, but I also think that this is so dependent, in Anne Rice's version, on spinning to Lestat... That Louis's culpability and untruths are overshadowed by his Everything. Here, the story lets us soak in Louis's mind, and Jacob Anderson's performance really seals that. I find it so smart.

#interview with the vampire #one of the only shows that gets me excited enough to meta rant these days #anyway jacob anderson i love your work #(to be clear i love everyone's work this is truly one of the strongest casts on tv)

[pagannatural]

2.15 Tall Tales

-once again we have an earth-shattering revelation episode followed by silly sibling hijinks episode. Last episode Dean confirmed out loud he would rather die than kill Sam and that he is devoted body and soul to saving him. Now he is eating sloppily from a takeout container on Sam’s bed. Fascinating ecosystem.

-so Dean is on Sam’s bed. He likes hanging out and making a show of being annoying while lying on Sam’s bed. He must want Sam’s attention because it seems territorial. He’s licking his fingers and smacking his lips and being as loud and expansive as possible. Maybe Dean is reclaiming Sam in some way after he was possessed last episode by laying claim on his space.

-Sam asks Dean to turn down his music so Dean turns it up, and the song is actually so fucking perfect look at the lyrics

I could really just highlight the entire song. It’s about someone avoiding talking to the subject and the subject feeling out of their mind lonely about it.

It sets the tone for the whole episode and adds meaning to why they’re getting on each other’s nerves so badly. They’re avoiding talking about the big thing on their minds and subsequently picking at other things and at each other. Again, they’re lonely when there’s distance between them and they don’t feel they belong to each other.

-Sam and Dean recount their investigation into the case so far to Bobby. It’s a storytelling device that allows us to see into the characters’ perspectives and the ways in which they are unreliable narrators.

Sam recalls Dean being a sloppy drunk and basically asking him to have a foursome with him, a girl at the bar, and her sister. He recalls Dean leering at him and wiggling his eyebrows and Starla drunkenly hanging off of Dean, doing the same. It very much seems as though Dean and Starla are suggesting a small, incestuous orgie.

Sam turns up his nose because Dean is drunk and he thinks the girl is trashy and tanked. His judgment toward her is palpable and betrays his jealousy. It’s also a glimpse into the way he perceives Dean’s attempts at setting him up—he recognizes Dean’s interest in him sexually, he remembers when this happens, but he doesn’t think it’s serious because he thinks it’s about the girls rather than about him. Dean is a himbo in his story, kind of without intention or feeling.

Dean, however, describes hitting it off with a woman who is a classy grad student. He remembers Sam being extremely feminine and prissy and confronting him about making out with a woman like he’s Dean’s nagging girlfriend.

Trying to set Sam up is not a part of his story, instead he tells it like he’s the center of attention and Sam is jealous. It makes me wonder if Dean is self conscious about how he treats Sam, how he often involves him in his sex life. Later in the series Dean is described as “needy” more than once in the context of his relationship with Sam as a way to taunt both of them. It’s interesting that Dean would feel shame about needing Sam, whereas Sam’s shame is never really about needing Dean. This is one of the dynamics in their relationship that tends to operate consistently in the background for the entire show, and I see it as a birth order thing. Dean as the older sibling feels responsible for Sam, so he can’t be clingy and unhinged the way that Sam sometimes is without really thinking anything of it.

Dean also portrays Sam as feminine. Like, flamboyant. It’s probably easier for Dean to focus on Sam’s sexuality and make fun of him for being gay rather than take him seriously for being in love with him. So Dean is doing the same thing Sam is doing, dismissing Sam’s intentions and chalking his behavior up to something else.

Both stories are defensive in their own ways: Dean paints himself as totally uninterested in Sam. Sam paints Dean as indiscriminate and careless in his attentions but wanting Sam to join in. Common elements are Dean’s attention being on someone else and Sam being jealous. The variables are the why’s.

-Bobby: you’re bickering like an old married couple

Dean: no see married couples can get divorced

Okay so you’re not like an old married couple—not because you’re not married or because you’re not a couple, but because your connection is more permanent? Okay!

The brothers say they’re more like conjoined twins which is wild because regular siblings get on each other’s nerves plenty but they are not regular siblings and that description is not enough for them so they describe themselves as physically part of each other. Over and over we’re told that actually they are not “just brothers” like Sam said in Playthings.

-Dean was watching porn on Sam’s laptop. He eats in Sam’s bed and jerks off with Sam’s laptop and it’s like he’s a dog getting his scent on everything Sam touches.

-Sam gives Dean the sassiest look anyone’s ever given anyone

and I’m including it in this analysis because it’s giving major fem vibes.

-the alien story is actually super fucked up and horrifying, although it’s clearly played as a joke. The guy says he was probed and forced to slow dance. The brothers seem to be telling this particular story together in a shared perspective, because it’s already embarrassing for them to hear and talk about, and underneath the bickering they respect and understand each other.

-the next interview is Dean’s telling, and in it Sam is acting emotional and over-sympathetic and Dean says “you’re always saying pansy stuff like that.” Sam is once again caricatured as feminine and clingy. Dean puts a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and says It’s okay, and Sam’s face crumples. So in Dean’s retelling, he’s Sam’s shoulder to cry on when Sam is over emotional.

- Dean is reasoning through the connections in the cases and says the punishments are almost poetic “or actually it’d be more like a limerick” and sorry was anyone going to talk about Dean’s knowledge and interest in poetry?? I LOVE poetry but I didn’t technically know what the fuck a limerick was (so I googled it) and it’s a short poem that’s funny or silly in content. Dean is well-read. It would make SO much sense for him to be well-read because when he was younger he longed for more of a connection to the world outside of Sam and John and being locked in motel rooms, and reading would have been a good way for him to do that. He seems to enjoy fiction and characters he can relate to. It probably makes him feel less isolated.

-The brothers’ arguments this episode reveal such interesting glimpses into their life. Sam says “I don’t lose things” which would have been important as a child living out of motels trying to maintain his grades and seem normal. He probably learned as a child that he can’t just forget his things somewhere and go back to look for it later or call people he knows. If he leaves something in a motel room, that’s it, it’s gone forever, they will never go back and no one is finding and mailing it to him. I wonder if that’s also why he’s so particular about Dean not touching his stuff, because he had so little that was his. He probably got Dean’s hand-me-downs, and he had to share Dean himself with their dad which he famously hated.

Sam also says that Dean’s socks are in the sink. The only reason I can imagine for Dean’s socks being in the sink rather than just like, Dean leaving his dirty socks on the floor, is that he must’ve been washing them in the sink. Do they hand wash their clothing in motel sinks? It must be more convenient than going to a laundromat sometimes.

Sam also comments on Dean’s food going bad in the fridge. I read a whole essay on how this connects to Dean’s food insecurity, which makes sense to me. It also could be that he’s just kinda messy and doesn’t throw away his gross old food. I think Dean tends to get messier the more stressed out he is. He’s one of those people you can tell how he’s doing mentally by how his space looks— if he’s angry he’s breaking shit, stressed he’s looking worse for wear, happy he’s got everything neat and clean and starts nesting. Not to mention taking care of the Impala, his and Sam’s childhood home, is his pride and joy and one of the only mainstays in his life. His self care is very visible.

He is stressed as shit right now. Maybe eating greasy food on Sam’s bed is a cry for help and wanting Sam to talk to him about everything but not knowing how to bring it up.

-they fight over some money. It’s really something.

They are rolling around in bed grunting. Sam initiated the physicality of this fight by tackling Dean. It seems like a shared telling of what happened, and a good time to remember that the brothers have told wildly different stories and are both trying to make themselves seem as normal, cool, and under control as possible in these stories. And yet still they’re telling about the time they were rolling around and grunting in bed passionately. I’ll just leave that there.

-Sam pauses on the rush to the car with Bobby after driving a stake through the trickster’s heart. He starts apologizing to Dean, sincerity on his features, and Dean picks up on his intention and assures Sam “me too.” They gaze at each other lovingly over the roof of the Impala until Bobby interrupts and asks them to move it along.

-episode theme is perception, deception, and things not being what they appear. The trickster (Gabriel) casts illusions and the format of the narrative highlights how differently Sam and Dean can see the same story. They’re not seeing each other clearly, and they’re hiding from themselves, and it makes them lonely.

#wincest #samdean #supernatural #spn meta #sam and dean #spn 2x15 #I really didn’t think this episode was that deep but one thing I know is when you look for wincest you’ll find it

[leonawriter]

At some point I need to do my "all dcmk characters are mirrors/foils for someone in the other series" but for now I'm just gonna-

What does this say about Hakuba and Hattori?

Hakuba existed first, as a largely methodical and logical detective, which when they meet becomes the rather easily read contrast between the two, given Hattori's hot-headed nature.

But there's more!

Both Hakuba and Hattori live distantly from the protagonist, in a sense - Hakuba with his travelling, Hattori in Osaka. Hattori will often drop by unannounced and disrupt plans, and Hakuba will come to a heist, maybe straight from a flight, only to be redirected halfway across the city (or the world).

Both figure out the protagonist's secret identity on their second meeting, although Kaito refuses to admit Hakuba is right out of fear he'd be arrested, and Shinichi was forced to because of (mostly light-hearted) blackmail that he'd tell Ran the truth.

Both are the self-appointed rival of the protagonist, with Kaito taking this at face value and Shinichi emphasising how there is no real place for that kind of thing in deduction, as they're all looking for the same singular truth.

Both are the closest male friend of their respective protagonist, but where Hattori's relationship with Shinichi is canonically referred to as "like brothers," being often on the same wavelength, Hakuba's relationship with Kaito is more fraught as they spend more time playing cat and mouse than they do talking normally.

And, the thing that just set me off?

Hattori's understanding of how he feels about Kazuha is a very slow burn thing. He doesn't even realise he likes her as more than a best friend for AGES. Compare to... Hakuba blushing around Akako and later when they talk on the phone, and Aoko being quite sure he's obvious enough about it that if Akako said "I need a date for the school festival" Hakuba would say "what time?"

Kazuha, likewise, relies mostly on luck and superstition a lot; her omamori is one thing, but there's also the charms she buys and the way she stabs Hattori with the longevity arrow - compare to Akako, who doesn't leave things to chance, as her magic is mostly tied to the idea of control, and who knows that her powers are real as she can see a direct effect.

I mostly focused on these ones here because we just... don't see enough of either Hakuba or Akako, and due to Akako's base premise of being a witch, it's near impossible to have her fully cameo as herself in Detective Conan.

BUT. With this idea in mind, we can see the sort of process (a creative roadmap even), Gosho might well use for their characters! After all, his characters tend to foil each other in ways that are a mirror - in other words, similar, but opposites.

#dcmk #dcmk stuff #detective conan #magic kaito #hakuba saguru #hattori heiji #koizumi akako

[yuurivoice]

So referring to Auron and his series, I noticed that he’s never said, “I love you,” to Rook and I was curious if there’s a reason behind that?

I thought this might be because his series doesn’t start out with an established relationship like some of the others do (referring to Bittersweet) so I might just be spit balling here too but it was just something I noticed

Either way I think it’s super neat cause I figured that he hadn’t really loved someone romantically before so it’s new territory for him and what not. I could be totally off track but what were your thoughts? :3

He is a character who has kept his mother and anyone else close to him away, most likely due to his criminal life and putting them in danger, and has admitted that allowing himself to be with Rook is a foolish thing and he's getting sloppy.

Whether or not he's been in love before or not isn't really a factor, but the answer is "probably not".

That and I don't think me withholding the Love word is particularly clever, it's one of the oldest tricks in the book. lol

Also, BitterSweet only starts with characters in a relationship if you don't take into account that Alphonse and Boo have a bunch of content that exists in the Canon before BitterSweet. We retroactively renamed the series and started it with Seth's introduction. When Alphonse and Boo meet, they are strangers.