#I should never get into writing lmao

[dexppomp]

HIHI HOHO

OKAY So, Time travel episode ! Something goes wrong while the boys are trying to get rid of the timetub. Transporting them into the future.

Dewey gets transported near an adult Louie’s estate, who’m has actually been able to start up his own pretty successful company (with some funding from his good ol’ uncle ofcourse)

Huey, comes across an adult dewey who has taken over LP’s job as Scrooge’s personal driver, and at night is a local tv host (LP basically lives with Jim now)

Louie teleports near a woodchuck cabin in which, adult Huey is signing up new Junior junior woodchucks.

During all of this, in the main timeline, the magic gang is having another one of their sleepovers ! They are having their average fun, summoning spirits and ghouls.

Until suddenly they get suspicious of none of the boys showing up anywhere around the house.

No generic theme show music blaring from the boy’s bedroom. No Ottoman Empire™ being watched in the television room. No sound of book paper being whirled trough.

They go and ask Beakley, where the boys might be. Her telling them that they are cleaning up some mess they made in the attic. Going up there they come across the Timetub, beeping and booping, as if it has just been activated, with a date simply displaying “Future” with under it written in very small letters “Highly unstable, do not use”.

Violet is quickly to point out that there is a high probability that the boys have used the timetub to go into the future. But that it would be best to not follow in their footsteps.

However before she even gets the chance to get that far in her sentence. Webby is already dragging Lena with her into the tub yelling about bringing the boys back.

Violet decided to simply not join them and goes to search for Gyro at his lab, wanting to know what kind of “unstable” he exactly meant

(I did not expect to start writing like and actual story I was just trying to find a way to have those two go into the future)

Just like with the boys, the tub messes up and puts them near their counter parts adult version

BACK TO THE BOYS REAL QUICK

(Going to use A!Name to differ adult versions from current version)

Dewey simply walks into the estate and upto the office where A!Louie is in the middle of a business call. The moment he notices Dewey walk in, he panics and ends the call. Confused about why a younger version of his brother, has entered the room.

Huey on the other hand simply climbs in to the car while A!Dewey is waiting for Scrooge to come. And simply just immediately begins explaining him the situation. Asking him questions about what year it is and if he knows how to get back and pretty much everything he needs to know to get back.

Louie has a different plan, thinking that it wouldn’t be a smart idea for his adult brother to know he is here, he decides disguise himself as a junior junior woodchuck and put on a whole thought out persona to be as in suspicious as possible. He gets signed up with pretty much no hastle outside of A!Huey being suspicious of him.

BACK TO WEBLINA CONTENT

Webby deploying in the middle of Duckberg. Confused on where and when she exactly is she runs to the first person she can see, a tall woman sitting outside at a small cozy cafe.

She taps on the womans shoulders and asks where she exactly is and what the date might be.

As the woman turns around, It gets revealed she is adult Lena. (Insert your own adult design here). She first answers without too much thought and a giggle. As Webby gets absolute awestruck seeing how gorgeous her best friends becomes in the future.

Before A!Lena gets up and drags Webby away around the corner real quick. Webby is just whispering to her self about how pretty A!Lena looks and that she thought Lena already couldn’t get prettier.

A!Lena beside the fact that it makes her blush a bit she immediately asks what happened and why Webby is a child again all of a sudden. Thinking she probably got hit by another Treasure or Gyro invention.

After some back and forward A!Lena understands that this a past Webby and that this must be the day they went to so many years ago.

Webby starts asking about what things are like in the future, if flying cars have been invented yet and such. Till she suddenly notices that A!Lena is still wearing her friendship bracelet. Upon noticing she immediately gleefully asks “Are we still best friends ?!” A!Lena takes a second to answer and goes “Oh’ definitely Pink”

CANT FORGET ABOUT LENA

Lena pretty much does not move from her position at all, she is still in the mansion, but time has noticeably changed. She decides to walk back downstairs. The halls having new pictures on the walls. The boys in their teenage years, a photo of Donalds and Daisy’s wedding.

As she gets closer to the main hall she heard ever so familiar humming coming from near the bathrooms. As she goes to investigate she runs into A!Webby. Putting doing up her hair and fitting up her signature bow.

Lena quickly hides behind the corner, but not before getting a glimps of A!Webby. As her heart is pounding from both being in a situation where she’d rather not be found out, and seeing this girl she has had the longest crush on, growing up to be so pretty.

But before she can even think about that, the humming stops. As A!Webby detects something is amiss. She somehow gets behind Lena and manages to hold her at blade point.

Till she notices its Lena and immediately drops the sword and blurs out “OMD LENA ITS YOU BUT LIKE YOUNG YOU YOU ARE JUST AS CUTE AS I REMEMBER WOW !!… You know not to sneak up on me like that”

Lena now being dazed and confused was atleast able to pinpoint one thing out and that was the part where A!Webby said she was cute.

Lena asks A!Webby if she really used to think that she was cute. At which A!Webby simply answers “Wait you don’t know yet ?

AND WE GO BAAACK TO THE PRESENT JUST REAL QUICK

Violet goes to ask Gyro about the TimeTub, and he explains some timey wimey shenanigans that pretty much means they can’t get them back and everyone has to get back themselves.

NOW ONTO THE BOYS FOR REAL QUICK

Dewey simply vibes with A!Louie for the majority of the time until A!Louie mentions he maybe should try and find a way back, Dewey agrees and they head towards the McDuck Manor.

Huey convinces A!Dewey to immediately drive him back to the manor (They where waiting at the Money Bin, I forgot to mention) As Scrooge just walks out of the door, the two drive away really quickly and Scrooge gets a bit annoyed

A!Huey keeps giving Louie a hard time as a junior junior woodchuck. Until Louie finally gives up the facade because he simply can’t be asked to keep doing all the physical work. At which A!Huey simply laughs and tells him he already knew that it was his brother, and tells him he remembers how they originally got back and also takes him back to the manor.

BACK TO THE LEBBY-ANS

Lena asks A!Webby about what she doesn’t know yet. At which A!Webby answers that she used to have a crush on Lena and thought that she had said it already by the time Lena got teleported to future.

Which came as a surprise to Lena. Because for a matter of fact. That has not happened yet. She takes a second to breath and goes to sit down on the ground trying to recollect her thought.

A!Webby tries to comfort her, she knows it’s a lot to suddenly take in. Lena asks “Used to ?”

A!Webby doesn’t fully respond, she just gives her a little headpat, a reassuring smile and says “in a good way”

GOING BACK TO WEBBY AND A!LENA NOW HIHIHIHI

A!Lena tells Webby about how she remembers this day very well. Which makes Webby ask if she knows how they got back and if they could find the boys.

A!Lena answers that they just need to get back too the TimeTub and the boys will get there soon too. Webby wonders where Lena is currently and asks A!Lena if she remembers “Oh very clearly, I’m with you currently”

Webby gets all exited again, just like how A!Lena has seen her many many times, it reminds her how great Webby is every single time.

While walking to the mansion, Webby keeps asking questions. “How do I look in the future ? Ooh ! And is it dangerous for me to see my future self ?”

“I don’t really think I can remember if I saw… myself ? I guess ?” A!Lena snickers a bit to herself. “But for your future self? Well I can say, you never looked better before “ A!Lena does start to feel a bit nervous.

WE ARE ALL AT THE MANOR/MANSION NOW (I KEEP SWITCHING BETWEEN THE TWO, OOPS)

All the bots arrive at pretty much the same time. But the adults have to quickly leave again. As Donald calls them up to come and babysit their nephews for a bit. But everyone gets a small look at what their future holds.

They go inside and get greeded by Lena and A!Webby. Whom gleefully says hi to the boys and they ingage in small conversation about the future and such.

Lena and A!Webby have been talking for the entire time up to this point. A!Webby telling her multiple times that she knows not to sneak up on people especially not her (Exept ofcourse it a bad guy), also explains her that she caught her getting ready to go to a cafe with a special someone. But that she shouldn’t worry with who.

Lena kind of understands what A!Webby meant with all that. And now she anxiously awaits her best friends arrival.

Webby and A!Lena approach the front door, but before opening it A!Lena holds Webby back and asks her if she is ready to go inside, because things might never be the same anymore once she does.

Webby understanding the possible ramifications of seeing your own future self and what it might do to an individual, nods her head and says “I was born ready”

They walk inside and Webby get greeted by a hug from Lena, she jokes about the fact Lena doesn’t tend to hug much. She asks if she is okay by holding Lena’s head in her hands.

Lena answers “Never been better Pink”, she looks Webby in the eyes “I know now, and so do I” She gets very blushy and awkward for a second.

Webby looks confused back, it takes her a second to figure out what Lena is talking about, but for comfirmation she looks at A!Webby, who simply gives her a nod back.

She gets so filled with excitement and happiness that she starts to still her wings. Suddenly stops and turns to Lena and goes “Does this mean we are girlfriends ??” With the most dopey yet sincerest smile on her face, the one that Lena simply never could get enough of. And she answers “I’m pretty sure it does Pink” with a loving smirk that is Webby has gotten oh so familiar with.

(During all this the Louie and Dewey are trying to not get either uncomfortable or weirded out by this display of affection, while Huey simply notes how they do make a good pair)

After a few minutes, the boys mention it should be getting time for them to go back to their own time. They all head upstairs. Webby and Lena hand in hand, Lena still blushing whilst Webby is gleefully hopping along.

THE END

I am so sorry for how badly written it is I just had a few ideas that I tried to somewhat connect together, also it is like almost 2am where I am and I began writing this at like 9. I will not be doing an revisioning because I am too tired.

Yeah, kind of just didn’t expect it to turn out to be a whole story I kind of just kept writing as I saw fit. AGAIN not a lot of it is good, and it isn’t meant to be anyway. I’m just putting down my thoughts and late night ducktale ramblings.

Hope it was atleast somewhat enjoyable

#ducktales #weblena #webby vanderquack #lena sabrewing #louie duck #huey duck #dewey duck #19 and the worst writing skills known to man #atleast I had fun and that is what counts #they are lesbian ducks your honor #ducktales 2017 #I should never get into writing lmao #I really just rushed the parts with the boys because I just had them there because it is a Ducktales episode #either way #goodnight tristate area

[lauraneedstochill]

Can’t help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

1.

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you’re standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

“It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?” a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry.

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction. “It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

“She didn’t interrupt a thing,” he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

“Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,” he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

“Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.”

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 2.

It’s been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn’t left the bed. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn’t an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn’t bear the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn’t leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn’t help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He’s only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He’s startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human’s silhouette — and then another few to realize that it’s you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

“They told me no one was allowed into your chambers,“ your hushed whisper burns his ear. “The silliest thing I’ve ever heard!” you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. “I knew I had to find a way to come see you.”

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that’s still healing.

“Does it hurt?”

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won’t be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit. 

“I will take his eye,” you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might’ve heard it wrong.

“...Whose eye?”

“Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours,” you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t,” his voice quiet but firm. “The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed.”

“Well, maybe he is too old to think straight,” you retort. “You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail,” you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

“Are you sure I can’t take his eye?”

At that moment, he can’t stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it. 

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can’t lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke’s eye isn’t worth the trouble.

3.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince. 

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid’s persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it’s you standing in front of him. 

Aemond barely has time to register what’s going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can’t see it, he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly.”

“I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval,” he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

“While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers,” you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

“I am friendly enough!”

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you’re clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing”.

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you’re talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand.

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There’s a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure. “Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn’t sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

“The gem compliments your eye very well,” you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

“We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is.”

“This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks,” you chide him lightly. “And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?”

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you’re too concentrated on something, and Aemond can’t help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface. 

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glancing at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

4.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn’t seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone is counting). It’s not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn’t leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to King’s Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon’s birthday, but Aemond didn’t care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond’s feelings for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider her part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it’s all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days.

Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say. “It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you.

Aemond hesitates. “I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add, “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

5.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can’t hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can’t think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to her,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe she is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them. “You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him. “Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.” The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again.

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute. 

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You are looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face.

Taken aback, you inquire. “You pity me?” He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

“You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can’t get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,” he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

“Yes, I remember it pretty well,” you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

“The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack,” there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. “Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you.”

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

“Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories.”

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying. 

“Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her,” the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

“Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in,” he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

“I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness,” he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

“When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine,” you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

“I think you actually enjoyed it,” you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

“I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you.”

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

“The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar,” he pauses, catching his breath. “You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you.”

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm’s length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you’re in, you look so beautiful, it’s mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence.

“Aemond, please don't give me false hope,” your heartbeat is too loud, you don’t hear your own voice. He does.

“I do not wish to marry you out of pity,” Aemond takes the last step. “I want you to be my wife because I am in love with you,” he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. “I’ve been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually,” his voice gets low. “For what feels like an eternity,” Aemond murmurs.

“Why haven’t you told me?” you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?” his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

“Tell me that I am wrong,” he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

“Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices,” you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were ten-and-three, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you is tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fans over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth. His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that’s to come.

author’s note: I’m sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I’m a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don’t want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, thank you for reading! 💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley’s song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there’s also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. 💞 my masterlist P.S. I’m also on AO3 (lol, who isn’t), in case you prefer to read fics there.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #got the idea out of the blue (oh the things I do instead of sleeping...) #wrote it in two days #pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle #my expectations are low though and I will probably never write anything like this again lmao #anyways I think I should get back to actually adding the tags and shut tf up #here’s a SPECIAL tag that I call 'the woman Aemond is in love with stands up for him' #I already used this trope twice and WILL use it again watch me #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[justaz]

arthur (prince of camelot) still has to study under a tutor bc yknow uther wants him to be very intelligent before becoming king or something bc its super important idk idc anyways merlin is doing chores in his chambers while arthur is squinting at a book and merlin eventually caves and asks him what he’s reading and arthur gruffly explains that its a collection of stories from greece that make absolutely no sense so merlin asks him to read them outloud to him. arthur of course teases him and calls him an idiot and asks how he could possibly help but does as he’s asked and reads the stories to merlin as he does his chores. merlin (being crushed under the weight of destiny and tormented by the prophecies that kilgharrah spews) understands the stories almost immediately and gets all excited and starts rambling about them with arthur. arthur is glad to have someone who understands so he can give something that reflects a hint of understanding to his tutor who accepts it and moves onto the next unit of education.

the thing is, arthur finds more stories in camelot’s library and brings them up to his room to read them aloud to merlin under the guise of completing his studies but really he just wants to watch as merlin’s eyes gleam when he understands whats happening and listen to him ramble on and on about them bc he’s gay. the stories stick with merlin though and he realizes that they’re cautionary tales, that the heroes who were told too much of their future doomed themself to fulfill them - that them fighting the prophecies led to their completion. merlin takes it to heart and gives a big “fuck you” to kilgharrah before forging his own fate and helping morgana with her magic and handing out an olive branch to mordred and now everyone can live happily and peacefully in an albion teeming with magic.

#merlin and arthur are of course at each others side in the end #merlin is curled up with arthur in their bed and says a silent thank you to his king for saving him #arthur returns the sentiment wholeheartedly #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #fic idea #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #hc #head canon #merthur prompt #i have my own hc of fate vs destiny in bbc merlin and i like to incorporate that into everything i write #but then i realize that not everyone thinks that way lmao #i like to think that destiny is unavoidable. merlin and arthur are destined to form albion and lead it together #i think fate is like a fragile version of destiny #i think most people are tied to fate and will follow what they are fated to do unless those who arent tied down by fate change course #like i hc that seers are able to see the potential future of what is to happen should they not interfere #and the goddess leaves it up to them to choose. so like seers arent tied down by fate and can change the course of history #since merlin is literally magic incarnate i also think he isnt tied down by fate and can act to change things #kilgharrah told merlin the prophecy that would result in the dragon getting free and ending the pendragon line #and since merlin never got close w like any druids or magic users. no one told him the inner workings of fate vs destiny #so he listened to the dragons warnings dooming him to fulfill the prophecy that brought about one of the worst possible futures #bc the dragon was salty about his whole species being eradicated by uther and vowed to destroy the pendragon line #omg im ranting okay post over thank you and good night

[blueskittlesart]

profs will set the due date for the final as april 24 and then STILL NOT HAVE THE FUCKING ASSIGNMENT UP TO SUBMIT THE PAPER BY 11PM ON APRIL TWENTY FUCKING THIRD

#ALEC. BESTIE. PLEASE. I AM BARELY PASSING YOUR CLASS AS IT IS I NEED YOU TO WORK WITH ME HERE #i feel the need to explain the level of bullshit that has been going on with this particular final actually because holy shit. #he first told us about it about 3 weeks ago which. fine. but all he said was 'you will have to pick a topic and write a paper' #like nothing about what the topic should relate to how the paper should be organized word count etc. literally nothing #radio silence for 2 weeks. we all forgot about it. then out of the blue 'btw your papers are due in a week lol!' #so we all scramble to figure out what the hell the assignment actually is #come to find out he never actually posted the assignment brief on canvas as an assignment. the only way we can access it is via a pdf #linked in ANOTHER UNRELATED ASSIGNMENT. #the project brief in question describes several in-class activities we straight up have not done. #no one actually knows if it's really due tomorrow or next week because he keeps pushing shit back and DOESNT ANSWER EMAILS #but the date on the syllabus is the 24th. and there is still nowhere online where we can submit our papers at all. #jesus fucking christ in heaven #personal #he is going to be getting a. shall we say INTERESTING professor review from me. lmao

[synonymroll648]

from a vibes perspective, i totally understand why so many people look at keefe and go ‘this guy would be the male equivalent of a wine aunt when he’s older’. 

but. but. 

taking lore into consideration, in my heart, he’s terrified of alcohol (even if he tries really hard to hide it). because. like. his first exposure is almost guaranteed to be through cassius, and cassius canonically threw a glass extremely close to him at least once when he was, like, 8. maybe cassius wasn’t always extra nasty when he was drunk, but there’s gotta be a correlation in keefe’s brain between risking getting seriously hurt (emotionally or physically) and alcohol consumption that’s really hard for him to shake. 

#tw alcohol #tw child abuse mentions #lmk if there's more trigger warnings i should put #i have a thing for hurt/comfort lmao #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #this is brought to you by: #that one fic my brain started writing internally where it's sophie's 21st bday and she's like man i #have saved the world so many times we've all lost count. i want a fucking drink #and keefe's internally like OH GOD OH FUCK in a bad way but externally he's like yeah babe whatever you want!! #and then she's like. i don't wanna do anything super stupid though. and drinking alone is super stupid when you've never drank before #will you stay w/ me? please? #and keefe's like. i cannot say no to that face #so he spends the night doing an increasingly bad job of hiding how bad he's freaking out #because sophie is a safe space and alcohol is not safe and he doesn't know how to deal w/ the two colliding #ESPECIALLY since sophie's just getting dorkier and sweeter as her filter goes down instead of throwing insults or objects at him #(i feel like sophie would be the kind of drunk that's very impulsive and says EVERYTHING that comes to the forefront of her mind #and stellarlune was more than enough to prove that she sees keefe and a lot of the time her brain just goes hnnngh soft little tortured #artist. MY soft little tortured artist.) #yeah but even intoxicated sophie can tell something's wrong even before he flinches super obviously at an empty glass falling over w/o #breaking. and so she's like nah man it's hurt/comfort time and he's like BUT YOUR BIRTHDAY and she's like do you really think i'm #gonna just let go of the fact that i know you're stressed? i'm not a dickhead keefe #so yeah it ends in cuddles. because of course it does #keefe sencen #annnnd out of the drafts this goes. post!

[jamiethebeeart]

Sketches

#shuichi iguchi #shigaraki tomura #spinaraki #these were 2 unrelated sletches but then my brain starting brewing some thoughts #mainly an au where spinner is sent in as a spy (for???? not the heroes lmao) to get into Shigaraki's confidence which of course means #wink wonk bedroom activities ANYWAY spinner catches feelings and doesnt really want to inform on Shigaraki anymore and is feeling conflicted #about what he should do and shigaraki knows something is up with his maybe boyfriend but not what and just :))) angst and split loyalties #amd feeling torn in two directions #(i sya not heroes but the only group with enough prescence is the mla but thats not really their m.o. either so???? idk what group would #have the reach/influence to feel threatened by some upstart kid in the villain world and manipulate a member into taking this espionage job) #anyways ive got so many au ideas and not enough time to write a fic or 12 lmao #like the research + planning + plot points + writing + editing + energy to pull it off.... im tempted to dabble in it all again tbh #im a year behind the manga tho and still havent watched the last season so idk where characters have ended up #and id rather not write anything until i catch up (idk maybe horikoshi has revealed some fun/character specific info?) #here i am talking on + on in the tags. anywho if anyone wants to write a fic based on any of my posts feel free bc i probably never will

[jamietxrtt]

.

It wasn’t until the phone was already ringing that Roy thought through the logistics of his plan. Whether he should call Ted or not wasn’t even a question-- he had to get an explanation for this, right now-- but the time difference wasn’t something Roy had considered. It was probably around three in the morning in Kansas right now. Ted might not even pick up the phone at all-- and if he did, he’d be in bed, eyes blinking open and hair askew. The mental image of Ted being woken up by his call almost made Roy feel guilty for a second, but he was too fucking pissed off to feel bad for very long.

Eventually, Ted did pick up the phone, a croaked “Roy?” sounding tinny through Roy’s phone.

“What the fuck did you do?” Roy demanded immediately. “What did you say to him?”

“What’d I-- what?” Ted sounded bleary and unfocused, his voice still hoarse. “W’happened?”

“Jamie. You fucking said something to him.”

“I-- I did?”

Roy’s teeth ground together with an unpleasant squeak. “About his father.”

The line was silent for a moment.

“Oh.”

“You said something to him, about-- forgiveness?! Forgiveness, Ted?” Roy shook his head in disbelief, though he knew Ted couldn’t see it over the phone. “You fucking told him to forgive his father.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it might--”

“Fuck whatever you thought it might do,” Roy growled. “He’s fucking bleeding right now, because of you.”

“He-- what?!” Now Ted sounded more awake. “Wait, Jamie? What happened? Is he okay?”

“No thanks to you.” Roy squeezed the wooden railing of his porch, glaring into the night sky above. “Because of your little fucking pep talk, he ended up letting his father start fucking living with him, and now I’ve had to just spend the past hour talking him down from a fucking panic attack and cleaning the fucking blood off his fucking face and-- fuck, Ted! Did you even think at all about what you were fucking saying?” Roy shook his head again, trying his best to keep his volume under control-- Jamie was just on the other side of a glass door, after all. “Why would you fucking say that to him?”

“I…” There was an indistinct shuffling from the other side of the phone, like Ted was scrambling to get out of bed. “I didn’t tell him to do any of that, I just said--”

“You said to forgive him.”

“No-- well, I--”

“Yes. Jamie said that’s the word you used.”

“But that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you fucking meant, Lasso. Whatever you meant to say, what he got from it was that he has to bend over fucking backwards to accommodate his father, give him a second chance-- no, not a second chance, a fucking thousand-and-second chance-- or else Ted is going to be disappointed in him.”

There was another moment of quiet, where Ted let out a long, controlled breath. Part of Roy’s brain supplemented a memory of Ted before a game, closing his eyes and performing breathing exercises into cupped palms, but the rest of Roy rejected it outright. He was too fucking blazing mad to be feeling any sort of understanding for Ted at the moment.

“I do think forgiveness is a-- a virtue we should all strive towards,” Ted said finally, calmly, and Roy barked out a laugh.

“You think that fucking matters right now? Your fucking Lasso philosophy? He’s bleeding, Ted.”

“Well, I didn’t know that was how this would end up!” Ted’s voice shot back, suddenly defensive in a way Roy had never heard him before. “Everyone can change, Roy, you know I believe that--”

“Jesus, Ted, you weren’t thinking for a fucking second about the consequences of what you said to him, were you? You saw fucking Wembley! Jamie is terrified of that man! He’s sent him to the fucking hospital before! Sure, maybe he can fucking change, I don’t fucking know.” Roy ran his hands through his hair. “But you really think it’s worth the risk of letting Jamie get hurt again, on the off-chance that this is the time things are different? When that man sends him into hysterics every time he’s around? When Jamie’s still got scars from him? I mean, this is the man that had him fucking raped at fourteen, Jesus, Ted--”

“He-- what?!” Ted squawked over the line, but Roy was too fired up to stop.

“You think it’s worth the fucking risk just to-- just ‘cause he could change this time? What if he fucking doesn’t? Or doesn’t yet? Even if he does change, it’s not gonna be instantaneous. You willing to just let him keep hurting Jamie for another-- year, two years, ten years, until he’s finally changed? That’s worth it? Just ‘cause forgiveness is a fucking virtue?”

Roy stopped to breathe, his cheeks hot with anger as he heaved in one breath after another.

When Ted spoke again, he sounded terrified. “I didn’t-- now, Roy, a lot of that stuff I didn’t even know about--”

“Bullshit,” Roy spat. “Bullshit, bullshit. You were there at Wembley. You saw enough. You saw.” Roy dug his fingernails into the wooden railing. The wood was soft from the rain last night. “And even if you’re right-- even if that man could change, did change-- even if he never hurt Jamie again, you still think-- you know what he said to me? He said, ‘I thought it’s what I had to do to be a good person.’ That’s what he said. Because of what you fucking told him, he thought he’d be a bad person if he just deleted his dad’s fucking number and went the fuck on with his life like I told him to do.”

“That’s not what I said to him. I was just giving advice, I didn’t say that not following it would make him a bad person--”

“Jesus, Ted, that doesn’t fucking matter! The boys look up to you, they--” Roy growled, slamming his fist down on the railing. “How many times have you given me this exact same fucking talk? ‘Careful what you say to them, Roy, you know how they look up to you. You say jump, they say how high.’ Yeah? Didn’t you fucking say that to me?”

“Roy--”

“You tell them that something is the right thing to do, of course they’re gonna assume it’s the fucking-- universal truth of it. Of course they’re gonna wanna do what you say, ‘cause Ted’s the best person, so if he says this is what’s right then it must be what I have to do to be good too, yeah? Of course they’re gonna fucking listen to you. Christ, Ted. Surely you know the effect you have on people.”

Ted was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice wasn’t shrill or defensive-- it was just soft. “Well, I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Roy huffed. He turned to peer through the glass door back into the house, but Jamie wasn’t in his line of sight. He should probably get back in there-- Jamie had been alone for a while now. But he turned back toward the backyard, back toward the night sky, to address Ted one last time. “I’m fucking pissed at you, Ted. I’m pissed that you fucked this up so massively and then just fucking left. I’m pissed that it’s my job now to pick up the pieces of the thing you broke. Why do I have to be the one to clean up your fucking mess?”

Ted said nothing.

“Whatever. I have to go take care of my fucking player.”

“Hold on, now. Roy--”

Roy hung up.

After tucking his phone back into his pocket with shaking hands, Roy gripped the railing tight, bending forward to shut his eyes and breathe down into the floor. He couldn’t go back in there like this, still flushed red and shaking with rage, not when Jamie was still so fragile. He gave himself a minute to breathe, counting to ten and taking deep breaths and thinking of Phoebe and all the things Fieldstone had told him to do when he got too angry. And he tried not to feel any kind of way about the fact that his phone in his pocket hadn’t buzzed again once.

Eventually, he was calm enough to go back inside.

#no context no context for u #night before a big exam quick post s3 critical feelings dump thinly veiled as a fanfiction #before u can talk urself out of it #this is very s3 critical so yknow dont read if u dont want that #also its. like i said. less a fic dedicated to like. character integrity or anything lmao and more just me speaking thru roy #to get my feelings out #its very therapeutic i should write about everything that upsets me in roy's voice #anyway i never meant to even post this publicly but whatevr #why not #written like a month ago

[orbdotexe]

Under pressure and request from both Osiris and Shin Malphur, Drifter seeks out the Young Wolf early in their exile. He's not sure he'd say it went well, but it certainly could've gone much, much worse. And hey; Shin was right, new friends are new friends. Alternatively: Two rogue Guardians play horse plinko with each other before agreeing to an exchange of favors.

I finally did it- A Questionably Fortunate Encounter's rewrite. I have no idea how I got the motivation to finish this, it wasn't even half done when I picked it back up, but here it is in time for TFE's (concept's) 2nd birthday! I am significantly happier with this than the original, you have no idea. It wasn't even a thousand words and now it's like 20 words from being 2k, and overall? Everything just has more character + an extra page of interaction and the end note being from Ghost instead of Drifter. and being accurate to more story details! I kept a lot of the parts i thought were funny tho, if moved them around-

[old ver. ao3] --- [new ver. ao3]

-

The Sundial. A ballsy idea from a mad warlock.

Knocking a few times on the side, he can’t help the chills down his spine at the whispers ringing in his ears.  “If you short-circuit the universe, you’re on your own.” He snips, his already uneasy grin wavering.

“If I make a mistake here, you might cease to exist,” the old Warlock says simply, though there’s a questioning edge to it.

Drifter only shrugs. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Osiris squints at him as Drifter moves around the machine, checking the stability. “We haven’t talked about payment.” 

Drifter’s grin smooths out some, sly now. “If you live through this little experiment, you can be sure I’ll be back to collect.”

A simple ‘hm’ is the only response he gets for a few seconds, before Osiris starts again.

“There’s a Guardian you should meet.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I’ve heard. Some bigshot—Can’t wait.”

"Drifter."

—

The Warlock and that old Hunter had their points—The Young Wolf needed people on their side, and it's not like Drifter couldn't use the opportunity. He figured, if worst comes to worst, just say Osiris sent him. It seemed the best bet; he heard the two of them had been on good terms, and Osiris wouldn’t have sent him without reason.

This was, regardless, a horrible idea.

Which was very quickly weighing him down as he waited just inside their most recent hideout; a willing, sitting duck in the path of a hellhound. Then again, Shin would be waiting for him, just the same, to see if he really went through with it. A rock and a hard place, if both were unmovable walls.

—

Eventually, the Kingbreaker did show up—and they looked pissed—but they didn't seem to quite notice him, yet. 

Their Ghost, on the other hand, had stopped at the door, and was switching between glaring at him, and watching its Guardian. It was a bare hope, but he almost prayed for the Little Light to let the Guardian notice him by themself—for what good it would do.

Drifter had to admit, though, they looked like Hell—In both the shit way and the eternal punishment way—And he'd quite like to keep them from being his punishment, thanks.

They were never in the same place for long, constantly tapping their fingers or wringing their hands. He'd almost call it a nervous habit; if the jerky, almost corpse-twitching movements didn't make him feel like they'd pounce on him at any given moment. It gave the distinct impression of a Taken, a fact he took no comfort in. He had told Shin they would be unpredictable, but recordings didn’t capture just how much.

The Guardian’s posture was rather slumped, in spite of their twitchiness, but he was rather certain he was a pinch taller than them; though it could be their hunch. That dead-eyed and bone-deep tiredness that seeped off of them… The Guardian stumbled whenever they walked, off-balance. Injured, maybe.

They looked as unstable on their feet as he imagined they were mentally.

He rapped his fingers on the tabletop he was leaning against, a slight knot in his stomach building on the question of ‘How to get their attention without getting pinned as a threat?’

Questionably fortunate enough, and probably should’ve been expected; the tapping made them pause, and he'd almost compare the frozen movement to their namesake freezing to listen. They nearly looked like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't be, or as if a sudden red dot (or dozen) had appeared on their chest. 

The Young Wolf then snapped to look at him, eyes narrowed and hand beginning to raise to their sword. Their Ghost noticed, and took it as a sign to speak up; "What do you think you’re doing here? Who are you?" For being the Ghost of an exile, its voice was strikingly uptight. Drifter had expected an edge to the voice, but not for it to be pedant.

"Mind your business, Ghost," he drawled. Their head jolted up a fraction. "Just want a talk with your Guardian, is all-"

Their Ghost flicked back a bit, only to be replaced by its Guardian stepping up close to him. Well… he got their attention, at least.

His gut twisted in knots as the seconds passed like that—far, far too close for comfort. "How about we just… back up for a moment, yeah? Think this all through?" Like he hadn’t. He should have told that Warlock and Shin to shove their requests back down their throats.

The Guardian tilted their head, the action more unnerving than anything else, reminding Drifter of a certain other Hunter, and he was unsure if it was an acknowledgement or a threat. They refused to look anywhere but his eyes, and he swore they leaned a bit closer.

He raises his hands to push them back a bit, but thinks better of touching them. He opts to just slide back a bit, instead– except they match his step. He does not take another one. That definitely wasn't good.

"I'll ask again: Who are you?" The Ghost hovers over its Guardian’s shoulder as they tilt their head to allow it to take the center of Drifter’s vision. Their dynamic is clear, but he tries to focus on them.

"Your old man Osiris didn't mention me?” Drifter tries to say, “I’m hurt–”

"You will be hurt–" the Ghost starts, just as the Guardian grips his collar. There’s a moment the Drifter is almost certain they were going to slam him into the wall.

"Alright, alright—” he tries to interrupt, “Just back up.”

It takes them a moment, and a couple glances between him and the Ghost, but they do back up, if not letting go of his collar. He tries to quietly let out the breath he’d been holding, nerves a bit strung. Their emotions are as on-a-dime as he thought. Damn this plan. The Ghost eyes him expectantly.

"You can call me Drifter; I run a little… operation outta the Tower." Their face somehow pulls even further in a grimace. “Now, I know how that sounds, but I’m not working with the Vanguard—Trust. Wouldn’t be here if I was: Heard about your… dislike of ‘em.”

He gives them a grin when they don’t make another move, though not optimistic. Watching every little change in their expression doesn’t give him much hope, either, given the hard line in their brow now. 

"That old Phoenix of yours pointed me your way, and I figured we both could make use of the others'... skills. I've got the connections, and you've guts enough to attack your own–”

The Drifter hardly has time to blink before his back is against the wall again, this time with a knife to his throat, sharp eyes glaring down at him—So it's like that. Osiris might've downplayed the sore spot; Drifter can’t even get away with a tease. He’s good at pushing buttons, but their reservations broke immediately.

He counts by the seconds as the Young Wolf silently dares him to say it again. 

While he decidedly opts not to and tries to think of a way to de-escalate his mistake, he has… an inane thought: They’re taller than him… Not by too much, but the thought gives him an idea potentially worse than even the meeting itself was; something mischievous glinting in his eye and, as an added bonus, giving the Guardian pause.

"...Kinky." Feeling their hold loosen somewhat and seeing their brow twitch, Drifter pushes the joke with a sly grin and a cant to the side. “I didn’t realize you swung like that, Killer…”

Drifter’s eyes flick towards the Ghost at the undoubtably horrified, near-static chiming it makes as it rapidly recoils. “Are you… trying to flirt your way out of this–”

The Guardian’s expression seems of someone entirely bewildered by a puzzle in front of them. As they loosened their hold in what he could only assume was disbelief, Drifter had to stop himself from laughing—in relief, at the absurdity, or at their reaction.

“Nahh… Just seizing an opportunity, you’d understand,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. There’s a moment of silence, the Guardian and their Ghost both searching his face, and it's everything he can do not to break—Either into a sweat or into a fit of laughter.

"...what the hell is wrong with you?" is the only response he got from the Ghost, the top fold of its shell covering half its eye. Drifter can only assume it's meant to be a mimicry of a dead-stare.

"Many things!” He gives a toothy grin that splits his face as he chuckles, “Next question."

The Ghost makes a show of rolling its eye, while the Guardian still looks like their mind has shattered, eyes seeming to search the wall through him for answers. The Ghost seems to take notice of its Guardian’s… inoperable state, and pipes up again, terse, “So what do you want?”

He’s really going to have to cut a deal with the Ghost, instead, isn’t he? As Drifter slowly tugs the Guardian’s hand from his collar—which they thankfully do not resist—he gives the Ghost the greasiest side-eye he can manage. “Well, as I was saying before your Guardian interrupted me,” it mimics narrowing its eye as he speaks. “I hear you two need friends, and, well, I’m always looking for more of those.”

“Just get to the point,” the Ghost pushes, tone flat. The Guardian seems to only vaguely be paying attention.

“Them and I could both use the support, so I suggest an… exchange.”

“An exchange? What is that– You mean, glimmer?” The Ghost interrupts itself with flicking its shell around itself and letting out a short chirr. “Information? We have nothing you’d want in that.”

“Nah, I don’t want any of that. If anything, I’m offering—You two just gotta do some favors for me in return. How’s that sound?” At the mention of favors, the Guardian refocuses; eyes widening some before narrowing and scanning him in search of some catch. “Just a job or two; you scratch my back, I scratch yours, yeah? Nothing you wouldn’t already do, of course.”

At the skeptical, almost blank looks from both of them, Drifter’s grin tightens some. “Favor for favor make sense to you?” He’s tempted to ask if they’ve got cotton in their ears. The pair take a long glance at each other, and he can only see the slight twitching in both’s expressions. 

“...And how do we know we can trust you?” Finally comes an answer, again from the Ghost, but one that’s more assuring than it probably should be.

“Your old man asked me here, didn’t I say? I wouldn't risk this without a good word.” That, or without Shin over his shoulder. He turns his eye back to its Guardian and offers them a hand, “So, whaddya say? Give it a shot, hotshot?”

The Ghost trills in some semblance of worry as the Guardian cautiously eyes him and his hand, body canted away from him, before hesitantly taking his hand. Their hold is slight and feels like they would rather writhe away from him, but they hold just long enough to shake his hand.

“Heyy, don’t be like that, now. Friends take care of friends, yeah? Trust.” The Guardian grimaces at his words. Maybe that odd adage of insects had a bit more truth to it than he realized. 

They’re more scared of you than you are of them?

—

Hours later, the Drifter far gone, and his Guardian was still kind of distracted. Honestly, Ghost would be lying if he said he wasn’t mind-broke by that as well. Who, in any sane state of mind, would do any of that? Sneak into an ill exile’s hideout, startle and piss them off, and then try to make a deal? 

And why did it… actually work?

Ghost must be losing it.

#idk the pacing might be slightly off still in some places but i like it! #i could hardly stand to read the old version anymore so being able to compare them side by side? im not very easy on myself about these #things but. DAMN ive gotten a lot better huh #i would probably delete the old ver but. idk people might like something in there that i didnt put in this ver so itll stay up #the forsaken exile #destiny 2 #anyway yeah im very asleep as this is being posted bc i scheduled it for the minute discord says that message was originally sent #so like. 5:54am. and i dont have to get up at that time tomorrow so im... just not lmao #god. ive been brainrotting about an exile timeline for Destiny for two years... #i am actually ill i think. NOT sane behavior #but hey! i wouldve never gotten back into writing after not touching it since like. early middle school or smth (?? honestly dont remember) #if not for this AU. beloved #im not sure words can describe how important this thing is to me. aaaaaaaaaaaaa #eepy and getting sappy now. time to shut up!!! #anyway yeah Shin knew (or. thought he knew. its *Shin*) Drifter would get attached. the old snake fell for #the oldest trick in the book (forced exposure -> eventually friendly) #(Shin did not consider that thats not really how that works but thats okay) #i feel i should clarify. bc there isnt really much of a way to tell-- Osiris talks to Drifter first. and THEN Shin talks to him. #we be havin canon lore problems now huh...

[anxious-witch]

They will never let him not speak about it 😂

#joker out #kris gustin #I did always wonder if that girl who left was ever like. oh shit this is about me #and does she know she is a running joke not only betweek JO members but in the fandom #poor Kris tho lmao #someone should have told him that a) you never get a tattoo of your gf and b) you never write a song after your ex

[httpiastri]

Oscar is so bad LOL What even is he doing?

go off, anon 😚 you seem to know a lot

idk if i would say p9 in the championship, two podiums and being one of the four people to win a race this year is “so bad”, but you do you i guess

#first of all…. sending stuff like this to an oscar blog is so funny 🤣🤣 #you think i’m gonna agree??? #it’s pretty interesting imo how like #all of a sudden #p10 as a rookie and p5 in the quali is ‘bad’ #(quali = shootout sorry) #when he’s a rookie who’s never done cota before #constantly outperforming not only the other rookies but also very experienced drivers #kinda same for lando how everyone was like ‘poor guy had a bad weekend!’ in Qatar #like… if y’all said a few months ago that two P3s would be BAD then i would’ve lost my shit #mclaren fans became spoiled in such a short amount of time lmao #don’t get me wrong im not against it lol im just trying to stay appreciative of every thing that goes right #anyway #oscar is not bad #sorry anon #you’re watching a future wdc #you should be thankful 😇 #told myself to not write too much because this is just a silly hater but then i did 😶 #asks! #anon!

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #pericky #ricky owens #professor pericles #anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die #i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did #the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲 #which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late #ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world #(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore') #(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all') #and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao) #and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong #his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE. #pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together #'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood' #that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more #and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all #ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally #....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him #he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control #there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore #it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much #(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth) #(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind) #whosebaby makes things #whosebaby writes #SDMItag #dyn: when i die i want you to die too

[ariesbilly]

oh worm...

#heather holloway #i never even considered this but like yeah you right... #also the way tom and the male workers at the paper were sexist towards nancy.... #granted she was out of her damn mind thinking she should get to write articles or whatever her FIRST YEAR AT THE JOB #and i dont remember what else was going on in that plot but i remember sexism was there so im sure somebody said something lmfao #anyway! #i have much to think about now #also i maintain heathers mom look medicated as hell in that family portrait we saw lmao something is not right with her

[neopuppy]

#maybe I should get back into writing series lmao🤷🏻‍♀️ #how did puppy pound get in there lmao #literally never got any feedback on that #(I voted Teddy Bear LMFAOOOO)

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

On the topic of Nagito resenting Izuru, I actually think it could go beyond that. Something that I'm not totally convinced about is none of Class 77 having any hard feelings towards Hajime. While them loving him inside the simulation makes perfect sense, would that really carry over smoothly once they were back out? Because his actions led to both them being brainwashed and for their deprogramming session being sabotaged in the first place. And to add insult to injury, he can take some solace in feeling less "tainted" than they are. Izuru had more autonomy and self-control during the Tragedy, while they were reduced to vicious idiots acting on whatever violent impulse came to them. Like with Sonia, she has to live with being known to the world as the tyrant queen who brought her homeland to ruin (though I personally like to headcanon that Novoselic is recovering). Meanwhile for the few people who are aware of a 15th Remnant, Hajime is "that one other dude with the long hair that we're not even sure killed that many people". I mean if I came out of the NWP with all that mental (and possibly physical) baggage, and the dude in our group who was most responsible for the rest of us becoming so fucked up was conversely the least guilty of us AND got handed a thousand super-talents...well I think I'd be a wee bit resentful and jealous. And going back to Nagito, it also seems a bit unrealistic to me that in most fanfics there doesn't seem to be any resistance from him to accepting medical aid from Hajime. Or dismay at discovering it was done while he was in a coma. Because on top of him probably not feeling like he'd want to prolong his life, accepting that kind of aid from the former Izuru would probably feel kind of infantilizing to be honest. Dude gets handed everything you ever wanted including a better version of your luck, he betrays Hope's Peak because he's bored, does absolutely nothing while someone dear to you is murdered and you and your classmates get brainwashed, sets things up so that your attempted suicide will actually result in you getting possessed by your nemesis...and now you're just meant to let him assert the power of a doctor over you and welcome him as your savior? I just think there'd probably need to be a moment where Nagito is convinced to accept treatment, rather than it being done to him without his consent. Make him feel assured that he has agency and control over his own body, and that continuing to live was his own choice. Because otherwise I think it could get really nasty. " I don't care that you're the most talented man alive. Even if I'd wanted to live, you, of all people on this planet, YOU are the last human being on Earth that I would want help from."

Ooo this be a spicy take! But some very good points! First off, sorry for taking so long to reply to this question it just this got me back into my Dangan theorist mode, and I wanted to replay all of Chapter 0/6 as well as read a summary of Zero in order to re-examine how the game and novel present Izuru Kamukura.

I’ll try my best not to derail this because Izuru’s whole existence and backstory is just…..such a brain worm for me that I can speculate on for hours. There’s just so much we don’t truly know if we’re basing this solely on the games (which I usually prefer to do seeing as the anime is filled with contradictions). But, doing so would mean having to excuse his involvement (or lack of) in preventing Chiaki’s murder and class 77’s brainwashing since there’s nothing within the games that indicates such things happening since even within game it flat out states Junko manipulated her high power connections (ie: the Ultimates), one by one and not in a batch.

She really only used video footage of explicit killing to manipulate the Reserve Course into rioting (Dr0), the rest of the world into more despair (Dr1) and as a way to taunt the Future Foundation (SDR2). Hell, technically, there is no proof that Chiaki actually existed in real life if we’re going only by the games too. That was something canonized by the anime.

Well okay. There may be ONE thing in the second game that can potentially confirm Chiaki’s existence in the real world and that’s her presence being listed in the book Nagito got with everyone's info. However, this was given to him by Monokuma and Nagito did destroy any of the information regarding his classmates time in and out of  school that could have very well revealed that Chiaki wasn’t ever there—but I digress and this aint about Chiaki rn this is about Izuru.

What we do know of him through the game is that he sees himself as being used by Junko and thus brought in a flash drive with her AI to insert into the Neo World Program as a virus so he could use her instead. This feels contradictory though, if the end result would be Junko taking over all their bodies. You can’t even argue that he did it so Hajime could override his present self and come back because that would have happened regardless (that was literally what was SUPPOSED to happen). So then why bring Junko back? How was he using her in that regard? Well, the only thing I can think of is that he pretty much already knew how it was all going to end, and that creating a killing game was the only way to ensure everyone stayed alive whilst retaining their old memories thus decreasing the chance of them falling back into Ultimate Despair when re-awakened and in a way saying “fuck you” to Junko’s despair and destroying the last remnants of her both in name and digitally.

Cool beans. He still lied to them all though. Junko states that each of them willingly went into the program knowing well that her virus was going to force them into a killing game to cause despair. Izuru, though, didn’t tell them his whole plan or how it was truly going to end, otherwise no one would have joined. And that’s not necessarily bad–he was doing it for their own good! Except, well, there’s not conclusive proof that he did so for their sake (and since we don’t know if Chiaki existed irl we don’t know if he did this for her). Also given how indifferent he is in-game, the fact that his surgery left him emotionally distant, and his lack of connection with class 77, well it’d be easier to believe that Izuru did this all purely out of self interest in a way to get “revenge” at Junko and perhaps alleviate his boredom.

Now, present Hajime WOULD have an emotional investment in class 77 and it’s that reason he sticks around to help them recover. But, honestly, I agree that the ex-remnants would take some time to come around to fully trusting him again because remember: they ARE still recovering from despair. It would not be surprising if their residual remnant emotions feel betrayed by him for lying to them and essentially killing off Junko for good. Add in their in-game memories conflicting with their past memories every time they see Hajime and he’s not quite the same Hajime they befriended thus reminding them that he’s also  that guy who just randomly showed up one day then manipulated them into a scheme for seemingly his own self interest, yeeeah it might take them a while before being buddy buddy with him.

Though they will eventually, but let’s focus on Nagito for a bit because he’d be the absolute last person to come around in fully trusting Hajime/Izuru. Because you see, while it was stated that the remnants agreed to be part of the killing game, we know for a fact that not ALL of them did so. And we know this because of chapter 0. In it, we see Nagito meeting Izuru for the first time (as Nagito literally says he’s never seen Izuru before), thus Izuru has not been in contact with Nagito to inform him of the plan (which actually brings into question WHY Nagito is even there/agreed to re-programming but that’s a theory for another day). We also see Nagito being very confused about Izuru’s talking about his flash drive with Junko’s AI in it. And, although he doesn’t fully understand what Izuru is planning, what he takes from it is that he’ll be able to see Junko again and get the chance of killing her himself. Izuru does not correct him or inform him of anything else. Meaning, Nagito knows absolutely nothing of the killing game he unknowingly signed up for nor of the possibility of his body being taken over by Junko.

In other words: NAGITO DID NOT CONSENT TO THIS AT ALL.

Unlike his classmates who can forgive Hajime’s actions as Izuru because yeah technically they DID agree to it, Nagito was not even informed much less had the option to say yes. You can argue that Izuru did so intentionally knowing that Nagito’s strange half-remnant state and intense resentment towards despair and Junko would have made him too much of a risk to the plan that is was better to leave him in the dark, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Nagito didn’t get a choice. Add in our previous discussion of why Nagito would be resentful towards Izuru because of all his gifted talents along with this and I’d say yeah, Nagito wouldn’t be all that welcoming toward accepting Hajime’s help post game.

This doesn’t even add in your note on pro-longing his life without his input or anything from the anime, so if Chiaki’s death was actually used as a trigger for class 77 and Izuru could have done something about it–YEAH that’s going to make the resentment exponentially worse.

So your last tidbit of Nagito getting a chance to decide something for himself just hits so strongly given he never got the chance to do so before. It’s the least he deserves now.

#anonymous #danganronpa #komaeda nagito #fala replies #sorry for the long post but once i get an excuse to talk about some of my #dangan theories and thoughts BOY do I use it #that being said pls never message me about my UDG theories because I WILL WRITE SO MUCH #(pls feel free to message me about my UDG theories i will write so much ;--;) #gosh this message really got me goin' lol replaying part of the game four years #later after knowing all the deets really reminded of...how mean Izuru was lmao #and the way he talks about talentless people is so on par with Nagito its honestly kinda #meaner than Nagito lol even Nagito basically just says “well it is what it is" #rather than wholeheartedly agreeing with him as you'd think he would #when even Nagito is like ''damn bro chill'' maybe you SHOULD chill lol #love me a sassy izuru #a e i o queue

[larkoneironaut]

Just an Elikai sneak peek before the year ends 🫴🏽

#As a treat because my Tumblr followers never get some WIPs #art wip #My OC #Elikai Vidis #From my Mandalorian fic I'm writing en #Gonna post it when it's finished (I'm almost halfway done!) so maaaybe spring? #She has that 90s model look ngl #Yes 99% of my OCs have freckles on their noses and what about it #Love her and love how she has developed #Hate her first portrait now lmao #This one will be IT #Still don't know what background I should add but I'll decide at the end #Din will be so in love with her and like lmao I don't blame him #my art

[lonely--seeker]

I think I'm going insane. Lately my dreams have been so mundane, it wouldn't be weird if I wasn't just a person that has nightmares 80% of the time, so I now my dreams are so hard to distinguish from reality.

I wouldn't be able tell what was real from what not if it wasn't because last night I went to my doctor's appointment and I was handed new glasses by Harvey just to go back home and find out Laois was cooking something in my backyard.

#to be fair. in my dream i was back at my old house. so the horrors where there still #also i've been dreaming about my dog. but sometimes it's not him. it's other dog trying to replace him. but it's not him. i miss him dearly #but it's... weird. i never actually dream with characters either. something strange is going on #I've been telling my brother i wake up and i have to remember who i am #for the totally normal dreams. it's like my soul is divided and it's living somewhere else for the night #who is the person i am when i dream. because it's not me. it's a whole different live. whole different people around me. I'm going insane #there's such a strange feeling about it. it's familiar? it's comfortable? #which only makes it even more weird. why is a life so different to mine feel so comfortable... #to the point i wake up and i don't remember who i am for at least ten minutes #but then i forget what i had dreamt about. and then i go around my day randomly reminding things. then that's when i realize those memories #were actual dreams #i should write a fanfic about this lmao #it was a nice dream though. i remember vividly i was sitting in one of those chairs thingies that hang in the air? #and i was swinging happily. i think Laios was talking about where he got whatever the fuck he was cooking. i couldn't understand him really. #he wasn't speaking in spanish but it wasn't english either. i think it was a made up gibberish... I'm still baffled by how comfortable i was #i think there were friends around too. maybe a hangout was going on? everything was nice. it reminds me of the times #i would go eat at a friend's house. but things felt a lot nicer. it was like if time had stopped and nothing wrong could ever happen. #and even then. i was still there. which i think that's why i started to feel dizzy in my little swing. i ended up waking up from that. #i still get dizzy remembering it. #welp. I hope i don't lose myself tonight... #I don't actually know what's worse. the nightmares are common. they are familiar. there's comfort in knowing what to expect. #but “good” dreams like that... i end up thinking about them too much. the residual feeling is weirder #and i have to deal with the whole different layer that is.. there's was a fucking anime guy there. kill me. kill me. get him OUT of my brain #I'm not lying when I say I can physically feel Laios rearranging my brain in ways i will not share publicly #kill me.