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#Not triggers. We all enjoy children's shows
dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
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The Taste of Temptation {2} || DR3
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: Back by popular demand...possessive Daniel and his kitten who keeps getting into trouble thanks to the other drivers. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, smut, anal, cream pie, bj, cumplay WC: 5.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five
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Round 13 - Belgium “This is a good thing, babe.” Danny didn’t believe your words as he pulled you onto his lap. “People see my uniform and immediately dislike me because we are always seen escorting you guys to the stewards. The fans blame us for your penalties.”
“I get why they want to do this, but why does it have to be you,” he grumbled.
“Maybe it’s because I’m so lovable,” you suggested as you pouted and did your best impression of puppy eyes. “Who could hate this face?”
Daniel finally rewarded you with a smile as he traced your lips with his thumb. “Fine, but if I have to watch you play show pony then there’s something I get to do first.”
You were running late thanks to Danny and your thighs were slick beneath your skirt as you marched quickly through the paddock to where the FIA’s PR team were waiting. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you leave his room, knowing what a mess he had made under your skirt and that he was keeping your panties hostage. He promised he would return them after you had finished recording the interviews with McLaren and Alpine. 
“Why didn’t you jump over it?” Lando greeted as he spotted you eye up the metal barrier before deciding to walk the long way around.
“I’m in a skirt, genius.”
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” he shot back before giving you a friendly side hug. “I’m surprised he let you do this.”
You laughed but realised what a mistake it was as you clenched your legs together, more of his cum leaking from your pussy. “It wasn’t without conditions. Before you ask, just don’t.”
Lando wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Ew. Wasn’t going to.”
“Sure…” You rolled your eyes and was grateful that Oscar arrived so the Instagram Live feature could begin.
“What would you rather…eat brussel sprouts for the rest of your life or live in Logan’s childhood bedroom?”
“Who came up with these questions? Did your fans really send these in or are you making this up?” you asked as you pressed the back of your hand to your forehead while you considered the choices of the latest take. “Can I at least call him and ask about it? Because I’m not a fan of brussel sprouts but if he had the American flag hanging on his wall above his bed then it’s a hard pass.”
“What about my room?” Oscar offered instead.
Lando laughed behind his hand. “You had pictures of Danny on your wall so she would obviously choose that.”
Though it was no secret among the drivers that you were dating Daniel, it wasn’t something that was publicised and you narrowed your eyes at Lando before Oscar drew the attention to himself.
“Mate, what are you talking about?” Oscar joked, “I still do.”
Lando lost it and crumpled over laughing, almost taking you down with him as he clung to your arm. “Next question, next question,” he begged between the belly laughs that triggered your own and you pressed your thighs together as tight as possible. 
Just when you thought you had recovered Oscar picked up the next card and he pressed his lips together as he tried to compose himself. “I think Doohan sent this one in...Cats or dogs?” 
One look from Lando was all it took. 
“Don’t you say it,” you warned as his lips twitched. “Don’t you dare. There are children watching.”
Lando’s eye flickered to the side where Esteban and Pierre were laughing as they waited for their turn before he looked at the camera. “Doggy…” It was almost impossible to tell what he said as it turned to a high-keening screech of a laugh before he fell onto Oscar for support. 
“Oh my god, I don’t know this guy, never met him before in my life,” you rambled as you sidled out of the camera’s view before losing it yourself. “Fucking hell, Lando!”
The producer looked at you and shook his head. “Still live, Y/N.”
“Ahhh, my bad. Just give me a minute,” you wheezed as you walked off and found a bathroom. You wanted to curse Daniel for the ‘gift’ he had given you as you washed away the streaks of cum that ran down your thighs but you loved when he owned you. It wouldn’t have taken much longer for it to reach below your skirt and then the entire world would have seen the evidence.
If you thought the interview with McLaren took a turn, it was nothing compared to Alpine. The two Frenchmen were completely unhinged compared to the more innocent McLaren drivers and they knew exactly what they were doing with their turn of phrase. 
“What do you enjoy more, overtaking on a straight or a corner?” you asked as you bent the question card nervously. 
“Easy. Straight,” Esteban answered first. “You get to go faster and push harder.”
“Ah, yeah,” Pierre agreed with a nod. “I know what you mean. But I like a tight corner because you have to control yourself on the entry or you could hurt yourself but once you’re in you can push the limits too.” He demonstrated the ‘corner’ overtake with his fingers, curling two digits suggestively and winked at the camera.
“Is there a priest in the paddock?” you asked as you hid behind the cue card. “These two boys need God.”
You saw the smirk on Pierre’s face before he opened his mouth and you jumped in front of him, clamping a hand over his lips. “That was not an invitation to make a joke about missionary or praying on your knees or whatever other dirty thought crossed your mind. Got it?”
“Got it,” he laughed as your hand fell away and he turned you to face the camera that was still streaming. “You did it for me.”
The frustrated sound you made only caused more laughter and you tossed the remaining question cards into the air. “I think that’s enough torturing me for one day. If you need therapy after watching this like I do, feel free to send the bill to Alpine HQ in Enstone; care of Pierre Gasly.��
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You closed your eyes as you leaned against the door to Danny’s room, taking a few deep breaths as you readied yourself to face him knowing he had watched the live feed. You didn’t expect him to suddenly open the door, and you tumbled back into his arms with a surprised squeak.
“I was on my way to find you, kitten,” he whispered as his arms enveloped you and he stepped back, taking you with him as he kicked the door closed again. He walked you to the small bathroom and laced his finger with yours, turning on the tap and lathering the soap over your palms. “You don’t know where Pierre’s mouth has been.”
You peered up into the mirror as the warm water washed away the touch of another man’s mouth on them and met his eyes watching you swallow. “I didn’t know they would ask those questions.”
His cheeks twitched before he stopped the dark smile from cresting and he rested his chin on your shoulder as his damp hands ran down your curves to the hem of your skirt. “Sex sells, kitten. Every marketing team knows that, even the FIA.”
His hands drew your skirt up and you gasped as he pushed you forward, bending you over the vanity. “I thought we had a deal…” he tutted as he felt the dry skin of your thighs that he parted. 
“I had to,” you whispered breathlessly as you watched his reflection, his doubtful eyebrow lifting while he pushed his jeans down his legs. “Everyone would have seen.”
“Exactly,” he chuckled in your ear as he grabbed your knee and lifted it to the cold bench top. “Everyone would know who you belonged to.” His palm clamped over mouth to stifle the cry as he speared your cunt and your eyes fluttered shut as he filled you completely. “Who do you belong to, kitten?”
You lashed your tongue across his palm and he eased his grip, smearing your saliva over your chin as he reached for your throat instead. His fingers tightened as he waited for an answer and you pushed yourself back against him with a moan. “You.”
His deeply satisfied growl had your cunt clenching and he snapped his hips forward with a pace you couldn’t match. All you could do was plant your hands on the mirror and surrender yourself to the pleasure he gave you. 
“No more interviews. No more videos,” Danny stated as he grazed his teeth over your shoulder. “If someone asks, you send them my way.”
Your head was spinning as you rode the high of your orgasm and you nodded though you couldn’t think clearly. You would have said yes to anything he asked when he drove you to that dreamlike state. 
“Do you know how crazy it makes me to see you with them?” You yelped as he dug his teeth into your skin and the fog in your mind began to clear. “I want to be the only one who makes you laugh, who makes you smile. I can’t wait to have you all to myself for three weeks.”
His hips slowly rocked against you as he watched clarity return to your eyes. “What do you have planned?”
The smirk he gave you made your heart stutter and he pulled out leaving you empty. “Lots.” 
His fingers trailed through your dripping folds, gathering your slick before circling your ass and you moaned as he pressed a digit in. Your forehead dropped to the cool mirror and your breath steamed up the glass as he added another finger, stretching you ready for him. 
“You’ll find out in good time,” he promised before you felt his tip replace his fingers. “Relax, kitten.”
He gripped your hips and his thumbs massaged your lower back, easing the tense muscles before he pushed forward and your breath left your lungs in a low moan that he echoed. “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight.”
He gave you a moment to adjust to his size before you grew impatient and rolled your hips, silently begging him to start fucking you. If you were in a hotel or his apartment he would have teased you until you were crying with need and loudly begging him but the driver room wasn’t soundproof enough for that. And, he had his own schedule of appointments he needed to get to before someone came looking for him. 
“We’re gonna try this again, kitten.” His voice was deep and husky as he gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises. “I’m going to fill this pretty little ass before I go to my interview and if you’re a good girl I might let you have these when I get back.” He reached into his jeans halfway down his thighs and pulled out your panties, balling them into his fist as he lifted them to his nose so he could inhale your scent with a hum. “Deal?”
“Yes, fine, Danny, just please fuck me,” you begged shamelessly as you reached down your front and teased yourself. He chuckled as he felt your body tighten around him before he pushed your hand aside and circled your clit himself.
“Hold on, kitten, and keep quiet.”
You bit your lip as he roughly palmed your ass, spreading your cheeks wide so he could watch how well you took every long inch of him. He shifted behind you, oh so subtly, but the change in angle made stars dance across your vision and your jaw fell slack with a silent moan.
Your palms were slipping across the mirror with every hard rut of his hips, your hands smearing the glass with the fine layer of sweat that coated your entire body. Your legs began to shake as the pressure built in your core and his breath warmed your ear as he grunted with the tightening he felt.
“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised with a whisper. “Come all over me, let me feel you.”
You teeth clenched as your orgasm ripped through you, shattering your world into splinters of light and stars only to explode again when he reached over your hip and flicked your sensitive clit.
“Fuck, holy shit,” Danny breathed against your neck as you shuddered in his arms and saw wet streaks running down your legs to the floor. “God, you’re perfect.”
He kissed your shoulder as he eased out of your ass slowly, small whimpers filling the room as your core throbbed with aftershocks. His kisses trailed up your neck and you craned your head so you could reach his lips, tasting a hint of coffee on his tongue.
“I have to go,” he murmured against your lips but still he made no effort to leave.
“Then go,” you dared, turning in the cage his arms had made around you as you pulled your skirt back into place.
His eyes narrowed at the challenge before a smarmy smile grew and he kissed your forehead as he stepped away. “Okay.”
“You’re meant to stay,” you muttered as you crossed your arms.
His deep laugh echoed through the bathroom as he pulled his jeans up and left. “You young ones think you invented everything. I’ve been pulling the reverse psychology card since you were in preschool, kitten. I’ll see you later.”
“Whatever,” you huffed, only making him laugh more on his way out the door. “Old man.”
“Heard that. I don’t need hearing aids yet, love.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing and he paused at the sound to send you a wink and blow a kiss before he was gone.
You still had a few minutes before you needed to make your way to HQ and as you sat down, tenderly, you noticed your panties on the coffee table. You started to reach for them but paused and looked around the room suspiciously before sitting back and shaking your head.
“Not falling for it,” you stated aloud just in case he was somehow listening. “Nice try, babe, but I’m not going to take the bait.”
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The three week break did not go as planned. After the car’s poor performance in Belgium, Daniel and Max had been called to the factory for some much needed testing and upgrades. Not wanting to spend your holiday in the tiny city of Milton Keynes, Daniel had given you keys to his apartment in Monaco and one of his credit cards with the demand that you spoil yourself while he isn’t there to do it for you.
You were surprised to see his name pop up on your phone in the middle of the day but you quickly answered it with a smile. “Hey, aren’t you busy?”
“Just taking a little break.” He sounded tired and you wished he had video called so you could see his face. “What are you up to?”
“I’m going to Rejuvenate, remember? Getting a massage, maybe a facial too.”
“I could give you one of those, the facial not the massage. Though I could probably manage that too.” 
“You have the hands for it, but I think they would wander too much to actually massage me properly.” The spa was just up ahead and you slowed your walk so you could keep talking a minute more. “I miss you.”
“Yeah? Me too, kitten,” he chuckled softly and the sound was so intimate you could have sworn he was right next to you. “I’ll see you soon.”
The soothing scent of lavender and jasmine welcomed you as you stepped inside the boutique spa. You immediately began to relax as you undressed and lay down on the massage table, draping a towel over your lower half while you waited for the masseuse to arrive. The sounds of gentle ocean waves and whales singing started to fill the room and you shifted on the table as you settled into a comfortable position and your vision narrowed to the small circle your face rested in. 
The door creaked open and you heard the tinkle of glass jars before the cork on one was unstopped with a pop.
“Special Offer: Afternoon Delight with a happy ending?”
You jumped at the deep voice and nearly fell off the table as you turned to see Danny oiling his hands up in the candlelight. “What are you doing here?”
He looked exactly as you had imagined after the phone call, handsome, as always, but exhaustion left dark smudges beneath his eyes that wrinkled with the smile he gave you. He crossed the narrow space as you reached for him, your lips reuniting with desperate need after almost a week apart and he pulled away breathless.
“I’m taking a little break, heading back in the morning. But I needed one night with my kitten.” His slick hands warmed your back as he held you close. “I’m not going to let this oil go to waste by the way, lay down.”
Danny whipped the towel away from you and hummed as he eyed your body up with the hunger of a man who had been starving for a week. The look was one reflected in your eyes as he untied his robe and let it hang open for you to see he hadn’t only been oiling his hands.
“I’m glad you found the right room,” you commented as you bit your lip and laid down on your back.
His lips twitched as he reached for the opened jar and drizzled the warm coconut oil over your chest. “This time. Don’t ask me how many rooms there are in this place.”
Your breasts bounced as you giggled and he cupped them as he worked the oil into your skin. A contented sigh fell from your parted lips as you relaxed under his ministrations and your nipples peaked at the touch. The air rushed from you with a gasp when he pinched one sharply and you felt the jolt all the way down to your core.
“So responsive,” he growled as one hand traced a line to your navel and continued further, slipping between your legs and feeling how wet you were for him. “Hmm, I wonder…”
“What?” you asked curiously as you fought the urge to squirm.
“Have you thought about piercing these? I think you’d enjoy it,” he asked as he pinched your nipple and curled his fingers deep in your cunt at the same time, your back arching off the table with a moan. “Make you even more sensitive.”
His fingers were working you to a frenzy and you couldn’t think clearly as he put the idea in your head but every time your walls started to flutter he slowed down with a teasing chuckle. 
“Fuck, Danny, I need you,” you begged as you reached for his cock and stroked the hard length. “Please.”
“Have you been a good girl?” he asked as he watched your hand sliding up and down his shaft, his dick glistening with oil.
“Yes,” you whined. “I haven’t come since you left, I haven’t touched myself.”
He kissed you messily with teeth and tongue as he palmed your clit and he inhaled your cry of ecstasy as he gave you the release you needed. “Open up, kitten,” he ordered as he pulled you up to the top of the table and left your head hanging over the edge. He fisted his cock and ran the weeping tip over your lips and you flicked your tongue out to taste him. “Relax your throat, babygirl.”
You let your head fall back and his hands massaged the column of your throat as he pushed past your lips and coconut overpowered the taste of his musk on your tongue. You ran your hands over your chest, slicking them up with oil before grabbing his ass and digging your nails in to spur him on.  
“That’s it, kitten, use those claws,” he urged as his glutes tensed beneath your hands with each thrust into your mouth. 
Spittle ran over your lips and your eyes watered as he abused your mouth and your body responded with a throb deep in your core. Getting him off was a sure way of getting yourself off as you had found out and you prided yourself on making his knees weak. 
After crossing your legs to give yourself friction you turned all your focus on pleasuring Danny, teasing him as he so often did to you with an oiled finger. A deep groan filled the room and Daniel lost his rhythm as you curled your finger and found the spot like he had taught you to.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, kitten,” he warned as his cock seemed to swell even more, making breathing impossible. Tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes and his fingers tightened around your throat as if he could touch himself before he growled through his gritted teeth and pulled out. Hot ropes of cum spurted across your lips and cheeks before he released a shuddering breath and placed a steadying hand on the table beside you.
It didn’t take him long to recover before he reached over to the service table and placed two items over your eyes. “There’s your facial, love.”
You licked your lips and hummed at the taste of him before picking the items up to see them. “You really put the ‘cum’ in cucumber.” He grinned as you took a bite of one before tossing the other at him. “Go on, high performance athlete, it's healthy for you. Cucumber has lots of vitamins, plus it's boosted with a shot of protein.”
He dodged the cum covered slice with a laugh and pulled his robe back around his body. “Sorry, I’ve already had my protein shake for the day. Does this place have showers?”
You accepted the hand he offered to help you sit up and pointed to the curtain hiding a door. “How did you manage this?”
“Turned up the charm, kitten,” he winked as he stepped into the bathroom, beckoning you to follow with an outstretched hand. “But it was the cash that won them over.”
You caught the washcloth he tossed over and wiped away his facial while he found the right temperature that you both could agree on. When your face was clean, you stepped under the cascade and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Thank you for coming. You look like you could do with a nap.”
He returned the embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head as the water washed over his back. “I always want a nap after coming,” he joked before tipping your chin back with his finger, a sombre look on his face. “How have you been sleeping?”
“It’ll be better tonight,” was all you could say, anything more would have only made his departure in the morning even harder. “How much longer do you think testing will take?”
He sighed heavily and grabbed a sample size bottle of body wash, squirting it into his hand before lathering it up on his chest. “Another week maybe, hopefully just a few days.”
He pulled you against him and shimmied to share the suds, and lighten the mood, and you giggled as his chest hairs tickled your skin. He visibly relaxed at the sound of your laugh and you cupped his face to feel the muscles pulling into a smile.
“Ready to go home?” you asked softly.
He brushed a quick kiss over your lips and shut off the shower with a nod. “Probably should get going. Max invited us out while everyone’s in town.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“The usual suspects.” He shrugged his shoulders as he started drying himself. “Lando and Charles at least, maybe Pierre if he hasn’t gone back to Milan yet. Carlos too?”
Every time he had a get together he seemed to invite more of his fellow drivers and it was finally changing how the media portrayed him as he was photographed with them. “Max is starting to collect drivers like Pokémon. You know, like that app that came out a few years ago…gotta catch ‘em all.”
Daniel’s face pinched in pain, his brows furrowed together as his upper lip curled back with a groan. “An app? Gen Z strikes again.”
“What do you mean?” Your eyelashes bashed at him innocently but you couldn’t hold the facade as you slapped his chest with a laugh. “I’m kidding, babe, I know it was a Netflix show first.”
“You’re funny, really,” he chuckled when he saw you suppressing your smile and it finally broke through. “Get dressed before I bend you over my knee and spank you.”
The cocktails had been far stronger than you thought and you no longer felt the cold out on the back deck of Max’s yacht. You had shrugged your jacket off as heat flushed through you and let the sea breeze kiss your bare arms while Danny had gone to get you a glass of water.
“So when are we going to make another video?” Pierre asked as he stepped out onto the deck to join you in leaning against the rail overlooking the bright city lights on the skyline.
“It’s only been a week,” you said as he bumped your shoulder and you pushed him back. “How’s things going with Kika?”
A bright smile graced his lips at your friend's name, the handful of dates they had been on seeming to have been a good start. “I'm heading to Paris in a few days to see her. Hey, you should come too. She’d be happier getting you over roses.”
“Oh thanks, I’m reduced to being just a gift now, huh?”
He draped an arm over your shoulder and laughed heartily. “I can tie a little bow around you, if you want.”
“What’s the penalty for breaking a few fingers?” Daniel wondered aloud as he stood in the kitchen watching Pierre touch you.
“What did you expect?” Kelly laughed, announcing her quiet arrival into the room. “She’s pretty and surrounded by rich, good looking guys. She’s too young for you anyway.”
The water from the tap overflowed the glass and wet Daniel’s hand before he turned it off and faced Max’s girlfriend. “That’s pot calling the kettle...”
You slipped out from under Pierre’s arm and shook your head. “Sorry, buddy, there’s only one guy that gets to tie me up.”
Leaving the Frenchman chuckling, you turned and found Danny with a very full glass of water and smiled gratefully as you took it. “Everything alright?”
He waited until you had drunk a few mouthfuls before taking the glass and placing it on the table. Your lips parted in surprise as he pulled you into his arms and captured them, his tongue dancing with yours without care that you weren’t alone. He was usually so careful and controlled outside the privacy of four walls but there was some need driving his passion as his hand trailed down your back to squeeze your ass.
He chuckled as he pulled away, brushing the pad of his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips and spying the desire in your eyes to take things further. He glanced over your shoulder with a smirk before turning his attention back to you and said, “Now it is.”
You knew Danny wasn’t pleased that you were going to Paris with Pierre but there was only so much to do in Monaco on your own. Lando had kept you company for a day, borrowing Max’s jet ski while he was away, but then he was heading to the McLaren factory for his own testing so you had taken up Pierre’s offer.
You did have one surprise in store for Danny that you knew would make him happy when you saw him, and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week to hurry up and arrive.
“Say cheese,” Pierre said as he shoved his phone in your face after gathering it from the security scanner along with his carryon luggage.
The security guard rolled his eyes with a look that said he was over dealing with celebrities and he waved you through with a sharp, “Next!”
“Get out of my way,” you growled as you walked through the metal detector.
“Step this way, please,” the man said as he pointed to the big x-ray machine.
“But, I didn’t-” you pointed to the metal detector that hadn’t made a sound but he cut you off.
“It’s a random selection.”
“Random my ass,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped into the machine and pulled the finger at Pierre who was still videoing you. The camera shook as he tried not to laugh out loud and he gave you the thumbs up as the x-ray spun around with its scan.
“Oh, no way,” Pierre laughed and he stepped closer to the image. “You’ve got your nipples pierced!?”
“If this is live and not just a recording I am going to kill you, Gasly.” You looked at the security guard as he checked over the image. “Can I get out now?”
“Go on,” he waved you through and you swiped your bag from Pierre’s hand as you passed him.
“You ruined my surprise.”
“I’m sure he will still be surprised, when he sees the vid,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry, the fans love seeing you, I thought an impromptu live might be fun.”
“Let’s just get on the plane before someone makes an anonymous call to traffic control about a dodgy Frenchman.”
“He wouldn’t.”
One look at you had him swallowing and his pace picking up. You were mostly joking, but when it came to you, well, Danny could act first without thinking about the consequences. It only took eight hours for you to realise how true that was.
“Where is he?”
A scream of terror pierced the air as your blankets were torn from your body and you scrambled towards the headboard as a silhouette stood beside your bed.
“Danny?” Your voice trembled as your eyes adjusted to the dark hotel room and you recognised his shape that matched the voice. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He grabbed your hand that clutched your chest and pinned it at your side. “Where. Is. He?”
His beard burned your cheek as he growled in your ear and you couldn’t think as his scent drove you crazy. “Who?”
“Gasly.”
“Why would Pierre be in here?” you asked, your genuine confusion giving him pause.
“Because you came here with him, to the city of love,” he spat angrily as he flicked the bedside lamp on. “All fucking day, pictures of you two have been tagged on Insta.”
“I came with him to see Kika,” you whispered.
“Your model friend?”
“Yeeeeah,” you drawled, attitude lacing your tone. “They’re dating. Pierre and Kika. In a suite down the hall.”
“I didn’t see her in any pictures with him,” he murmured as he sat back on the bed and dragged a hand down his tired face. “It looked like you and him were…the comments…”
“Things are new for them, they’re not ready to go public yet,” you said as you cupped his jaw and saw the circles beneath his eyes were darker than last week. “You’re the only man I’m interested in. Even when you are overbearing and possessive, and showing up in my room at,” you looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, “3am.”
“There weren’t any flights or I would have been here earlier.”
He let you pull him down beside you and his arm fell into place around your waist where it belonged.
“You’re an idiot,” you said as you kissed his jawline. “But you’re my idiot.”
His chest bounced with a laugh before he turned his head to capture your lips and his hand started to drift up your camisole until you pulled back with a yelp.
“I’m going to kill him,” Danny promised as he pushed you into your back and carefully pulled the top away and saw the two metal bars catch the lamp light. “I can’t believe he got to see these first.”
“He didn’t ‘see’ them, not like this,” you corrected as his fingers inched closer to the temptation. “This is all for you, babe, only you.”
“Ugh, I want to play with them,” he grumbled as he nipped at the supple skin of your breasts, careful not to hurt the healing piercings. “When can I touch them?”
“Not soon enough,” you said, equally frustrated with the wait as your nipples began to harden and tingles spread around the metal as they stiffened to peaks. “You wouldn’t believe how good they feel.”
“Don’t tease me, kitten, I’m too on edge. It was a long drive fuelled with anger and energy drink.” His voice was husky in your ear and it woke your body, your leg curling over his hip to pull him closer. “I don’t know how rough I’ll be.”
“It’s been a week, Danny. I don’t care what you do to me, just don’t make me wait.”
You rolled your hips against him and felt his jeans straining to contain him. You saw the moment he lost control, his pupils blowing out with desire and he gave into the primal need to own you. He needed the reassurance that you belonged to him and you just needed to feel him.
“Please, fuck me. I’m yours, Danny, please…”
“Fuck,” he moaned as he ground his jeans against the thin fabric of your panties. “You’re mine, and I’m going to make sure the whole world knows it from now on.”
Click here for part three.
Tagging: @mloyer @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @galenna @idkmanthisiskindacool @starwarssavy23
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Note
Am I the Asshole for taking my SIL to an anime convention?
My (42M) SIL (29F) has autism and was living with my MIL until she suddenly passed away from heart failure back in 2022. My wife (40F) and I both knew SIL likes to cosplay and go to conventions. Figuring that’s something she and MIL did together, I decided to tell her I want to take her to an anime convention the following year. We chose one that worked out for all of us, timeline wise, along with the costs of transportation, hotel, etc.
Now, this may be a controversial opinion, but I hate anime; nearly all of it is hypersexualized (aside from one, which I’ll get into in a moment). It makes me cringe that my oldest daughter (13F) loves anime, and that that’s all she ever wants to watch. Personally, I feel she’s getting too old for cartoons, but since I also have two younger children, I let it slide.
Prior to actually leaving for con, SIL had sent emails of videos and blogs all about attending anime conventions. Clearly eager to prepare us. She also had outbursts over all sorts of things and lashed out at us on multiple occasions; her emails were often filled with negativity, and simmering rage. In between all of this, we had her relocate to an apartment closer to us.
Anyway, SIL, my daughter, and I go to the airport, we get to the hotel and check-in. We explored the city for a few hours. Now, before all of this, SIL claims she has a “low heat tolerance”, and complained the entire time whenever we walked from Point A to Point B; yes, the city the con was at has good transit and yes I insisted we walk anyway. It’s good exercise! This led to her throwing a fit when we reached a museum I really wanted to check out. We took an Uber back to the hotel and I don’t hear from her again until the next day when we met up to have lunch.
She’s cosplaying a character I don’t recognize and doesn’t tell me anything about them when I asked; it was clearly supposed to be a boy character, though.
Next day, I got a text from SIL; she unexpectedly got her period. Great. Since she asked, I run and get her some pads, only to have to wait an hour in line. Also great. She’s cosplaying another character I don’t recognize. Some magical creature or a doll of some kind. Anyway, us three go into one of the viewing rooms to screen this anime SIL was insistent on showing us. Some Sherlock thing. My daughter likes it, and I’ll admit, I enjoyed it too; I think it is very kid friendly.
Last day, once again, I don’t see or hear from SIL until we meet up in the hotel lobby waiting for our ride to the airport. Seems she had a good time though. She was dressed as one of the kids from that hero anime my daughter likes. She also bought my daughter an axolotl plush (her favorite animal). Going through security was hell; SIL had the nerve to have an attitude the whole time (again later claiming she was overheated and cranky from her period). After we got home she claimed she was never traveling anywhere with me again.
In the days following, she returned the luggage my wife had leant her, having booby trapped it with a photo with the glass broken. Then informs me that her account was overdrawn (I would have gladly paid for more than I did, if she hadn’t been so bitchy).
When we went to her apartment to discuss this, she made the same claims: that she was tired and cranky from the heat, made worse from her period, that I was stressing her out half the time, but that she was grateful despite that because when her mom died, anime conventions were the first thing she was ready to give up.
She also claimed the photo she broke was taken the same year she first attempted to take her own life, and that triggered a panic attack on top of the meltdown she had after returning home.
And the kicker: apparently her mother barely spent any time at conventions, and only sometimes tagged along because she “wanted a vacation”.
Now she claims that I -I repeat I- ruined that Sherlock anime for her. And now is planning to attend a few more cons…Alone.
So what say you? Am I the Asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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breelandwalker · 7 months
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PODCAST RECS - Debunking and Fact-Checking for Witches & Witchcraft Spaces
A collection of podcast episodes fact-checking, debunking, or just providing some clarity on modern myths, misinformation, and conspiracy theories that are frequent flyers in witchcraft and pagan spaces, both theories mistakenly touted by community members and some of the utter drivel spouted by non-witches that still affects us today. Check out these shows on your favorite podcast app!
(Updates to be made whenever I find new content. There will be some crossover with my Witches In History Podcast Recs post and some of the content will be heavy. Blanket trigger warning for violence, abuse, bigotry, sexism, antisemitism, and mistreatment of women, queer people, and children.)
[Last Updated: Dec 29, 2023]
This post is broken into three basic sections:
Historical Misinformation
Modern Myths and the People Who Create Them
Conspiracy Theories and Moral Panics
List of Cited Podcasts, in alphabetical order
American Hysteria
BS-Free Witchcraft
Dig: A History Podcast
Hex Positive
Historical Blindness
History Uncovered
Occultae Veritatis
Our Curious Past
Ridiculous History
Stuff You Missed In History Class
The History of Witchcraft
Unobscured
You’re Wrong About…
Historical Misinformation
General History of Witchcraft
Historical Blindness - A Rediscovery of Witches, Pt 1 & 2 Oct 13, 2020 & Oct. 27, 2020 A discussion of the early modern witch craze and the myths, misconceptions, and theories about witches spread by academics. Topics of discussion include the works of Margaret Murray and Charles Leland, the founding of Wicca, the emergence of the midwife-witch myth, and folk healers as targets of witchcraft accusations. Sarah Handley-Cousins of “Dig: A History Podcast” supplies guest material for both episodes.
Hex Positive, Ep. 36 - Margaret Effing Murray with Trae Dorn July 1, 2023 Margaret Murray was a celebrated author, historian, folklorist, Egyptologist, archaeologist, anthropologist, first-wave feminist, and the first woman to be appointed to the position of lecturer in archaeology in the UK. So why so we get so annoyed whenever her name is mentioned in conversations about witchcraft? Well, it all has to do with a book Margaret wrote back in 1921...which just so happened to go on to have a profound influence on the roots of the modern witchcraft movement.
Nerd & Tie senpai and host of BS-Free Witchcraft Trae Dorn joins Bree NicGarran in the virtual studio to discuss the thoroughly-discredited witch-cult hypothesis, Murray's various writings and accomplishments, and why modern paganism might not have caught on so strongly without her.
BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep 03: The History of Wicca October 06, 2018 On this episode, Trae digs deep into the history of Wicca, and tries to give the most accurate history of the religion as they can. I mean, yeah, we know this is a general Witchcraft podcast, but Wicca is the most widely practiced form of Witchcraft in the US, UK, Canada and Australia… so how it got started is kind of important for the modern Witchcraft movement. (And trust me, there aren’t any pulled punches here.)
BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 28: The Burning Times May 30, 2020 On this installment of the podcast, we tackle probably one of the more controversial topics in the modern witchcraft movement: The Burning Times. What were the actual “Burning Times,” where do we get that phrase from, and what really happened? Also, how has this phrase been used in modern witchcraft? It’s a heavy one, folks.
Dig: A History Podcast - Both Man and Witch: Uncovering the Invisible History of Male Witches Sept 13, 2020 Since at least the 1970s, academic histories of witches and witchcraft have enjoyed a rare level of visibility in popular culture. Feminist, literary, and historical scholarship about witches has shaped popular culture to such a degree that the discipline has become more about unlearning everything we thought we knew about witches. Though historians have continued to investigate and re-interpret witch history, the general public remains fixated on the compelling, feminist narrative of the vulnerable women hanged and burned at the stake for upsetting the patriarchy. While this part of the story can be true, especially in certain contexts, it’s only part of the story, and frankly, not even the most interesting part. Today, we tackle male witches in early modern Eurasia and North America!
Dig: A History Podcast - Doctor, Healer, Midwife, Witch: How the the Women’s Health Movement Created the Myth of the Midwife-Witch Sept 6, 2020 In 1973, two professors active in the women’s health movement wrote a pamphlet for women to read in the consciousness-raising reading groups. The pamphlet, inspired by Our Bodies, Ourselves, looked to history to explain how women had been marginalized in their own healthcare. Women used to be an important part of the medical profession as midwives, they argued — but the midwives were forced out of practice because they were so often considered witches and persecuted by the patriarchy in the form of the Catholic Church. The idea that midwives were regularly accused of witchcraft seemed so obvious that it quickly became taken as fact. There was only one problem: it wasn’t true. In this episode, we follow the convoluted origin story of the myth of the midwife-witch.
Dig: A History Podcast - Cheesecloth, Spiritualism, and State Secrets: Helen Duncan’s Famous Witchcraft Trial July 3, 2022 Helen Duncan was charged under the 1735 Witchcraft Act, but her case was no eighteenth-century sensation: she was arrested, charged, and ultimately imprisoned in 1944. Of course, in 1944, Britain was at war, fighting fascism by day on the continent and hiding in air raid shelters by night at home. The spectacle of a Spiritualist medium on trial for witchcraft seemed out of place. What possessed the Home Secretary to allow this trial to make headlines all across the UK in 1944? That’s what we’re here to find out.
The Conspirators, Ep. 63 - The Last Witch Trial Nov. 26, 2017 England’s official laws regarding the prosecution of witches dates back to the 1600s. Those very same laws would also remain on the books until well into the 20th century. In 1944, a psychic medium named Helen Duncan would gain notoriety by becoming the last woman to be tried under England’s witchcraft laws.
The History of Witchcraft Podcast, hosted by Samuel Hume Witches didn’t exist, and yet thousands of people were executed for the crime of witchcraft. Why? The belief in magic and witchcraft has existed in every recorded human culture; this podcast looks at how people explained the inexplicable, turned random acts of nature into conscious acts of mortal or supernatural beings, and how desperate communities took revenge against the suspected perpetrators.
Unobscured, Season One - The Salem Witch Trials Welcome to Salem, Massachusetts. It’s 1692. And all hell is about to break loose.
Unobscured is a deep-dive history podcast from the labs of How Stuff Works, featuring the writing and narrative talents of Aaron Mahnke, horror novelist and the mind behind Lore and Cabinet of Curiosities.
As with his other series, Mahnke approaches the events in Salem armed with a mountain of research. Interviews with prominent historians add depth and documentation to each episode. And it’s not just the trials you’ll learn about; it’s the stories of the people, places, attitudes, and conflicts that led to the deaths of more than twenty innocent people.
Each week, a new aspect of the story is explored, gradually weaving events and personalities together in chronological order to create a perspective of the trials that is both expansive and intimate. From Bridget Bishop to Cotton Mather, from Andover to Salem Town, Mahkne digs deep to uncover the truth behind the most notorious witch trials in American history.
Think you know the story of Salem? Think again.
Witchcraft Practices
BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 43 - “Lilith” Jan. 29, 2022 Host Trae Dorn discusses the ongoing debate over whether or not it’s okay for non-Jewish witches to incorporate Lilith into their practices. Is Lilith closed? Is it cultural appropriation? There’s so much misinformation in New Age and poorly written witchcraft books on Lilith, it’s hard for some witches to get a clear picture. It’s common to run into folks on social media talking about Lilith as a “Goddess,” which she very much isn’t. Let’s dive into the origins of the folklore surrounding this figure, and we’ll let you decide whether or not it’s okay to work with Lilith. But, uh, spoiler – we don’t think you should.
Historical Blindness, Ep. 106 - Lilith, the Phantom Maiden November 22, 2022 Host Nathaniel Lloyd explores the evolution of the figure of Lilith, from Mesopotamian demon, to the first woman created by God, and back to a succubus mother of demons. It’s a tale of syncretism, superstition, forgery, and a dubious interpretation of scriptures.
BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep. 55 - Lucky Girl Syndrome and the Law of Attraction January 28, 2023 Trae takes a look at one of New Age spirituality’s most toxic philosophies - The Law of Attraction. The history of the idea is discussed, where it came from, and how this dangerous combination of prosperity gospel, purity culture, and victim-blaming has come back in a major way to a whole new generation as “Lucky Girl Syndrome.” 
Hex Positive, Ep. 19 - The Trouble with Tarot August 1, 2021 Tarot and tarot-reading have been a part of the modern witchcraft movement since the 1960s. But where did these cards and their meanings come from? Are they secretly Ancient Egyptian mystical texts? Do they have their origins among the Romani people? Are they a sacred closed practice that should not be used by outsiders? Nope, nope, and nope.
This month, we delve into the actual history of tarot cards, discover their origins on the gaming tables of Italy and France, meet the people who developed their imagery and symbolism into the deck we know today, and debunk some of the nonsense that’s been going around lately concerning their use. The Witchstorian is putting on her research specs for this one!
Stuff You Missed in History Class - A Brief History of Tarot Cards Oct. 26, 2020 How did a card game gain a reputation for being connected to mysticism? Tarot’s history takes a significant turn in the 18th century, but much of that shift in perception is based on one author’s suppositions and theories.
Hex Positive, Ep. 23 - The Name of the Game November 1, 2021 Bree delves into the history, myths, and urban legends surrounding Ouija boards. Along the way, we’ll uncover their origins in the spiritualist movement, discover the pop culture phenomenon that labeled them portals to hell, and try to separate fact from internet fiction with regard to what these talking boards can actually do.
Our Curious Past, Ep. 20 - The Curious History of the Ouija Board August 18, 2023 Host Peter Laws explores the history of the “talking board,” which was wildly popular in the early 1900s, until something happened that would tarnish its’ reputation for good. 
Ridiculous History - Brooms and Witchcraft, Pt. 1 & 2 Oct. 13-15, 2020 Most people are familiar with the stereotypical image of a witch: a haggard, often older individual with a peaked hat, black robes, a demonic familiar and, oddly enough, a penchant for cruising around on broomsticks. But where did that last weirdly specific trop of flying on a broomstick actually come from?  Could the stereotype of witches on broomsticks actually be a drug reference? Join Ben, Noel, and Casey as they continue digging through the history and folklore of witchcraft - and how it affected pop culture in the modern day.
Historical Blindness, Ep. 116 - The Key to the Secrets of King Solomon  May 02, 2023 Host Nathaniel Lloyd continues his occasional series on the history and mythology of magic. In this installment, he looks at the development of the story that the biblical King Solomon was actually a flying-carpet-riding, magic-ring-wielding wizard and alchemist who bound demons to do his will. The origins and content of the legendary Key of Solomon are also discussed.
Dig: A History Podcast - Plastic Shamans and Spiritual Hucksters: A History of Peddling and Protecting Native American Spirituality July 24, 2022 In the late 20th century, white Americans flocked to New Age spirituality, collecting crystals, hugging trees, and finding their places in the great Medicine Wheel. Many didn’t realize - or didn’t care - that much of this spirituality was based on the spiritual faiths and practices of Native American tribes. Frustrated with what they called “spiritual hucksterism,” members of the American Indian Movement (AIM) began protesting - and have never stopped. Who were these “plastic shamans,” and how did the spiritual services they sold become so popular?
Holidays
Hex Positive, Ep. 28 - The Easter-Ostara Debacle April 1, 2022 Host Bree NicGarran puts on her Witchstorian hat once more to delve into the origins of both Easter  and Ostara and to finally answer the age-old question: which came first  – the bunny or the egg?
Historical Blindness, Ep. 28 - A Very Historically Blind Christmas Dec. 18, 2018 An exploration of the origins of Christmas traditions, with special guest Brian Earl of the Christmas Past podcast. (There is also some mention of Christmas witches!) Further installments of this series explore additional Christmas traditions and iconography which have been falsely claimed to have pagan origins as well as the myths surrounding the history of Christmas itself. (Eps. 47, 63, 84, & 132 in December of subsequent years)
Modern Myths and the People Who Create Them
Ed and Lorraine Warren
You’re Wrong About…Ed and Lorraine Warren w. Jamie Loftus November 8, 2021 Special Guest Jamie Loftus tells Sarah about Ed and Lorraine Warren (of The Conjuring and Annabelle fame). Topics of interest include Connecticut as a locus of scary happenings, New England uncles, and psychic communication with a tearstained Bigfoot.
Dig: A History Podcast - The Demonologist and the Clairvoyant: Ed and Lorraine Warren, Paranormal Investigation, and Exorcism in the Modern World Oct 3, 2021 In the 1970s, Lorraine and Ed Warren had a spotlight of paranormal obsession shining on them. In the last decade, their work as paranormal investigators–ghost hunters–has been the premise for a blockbuster horror franchise totaling at least seven films so far, and more planned in the near future. So… what the heck? Is this for real? Yes, friends, today we’re talking about demonology, psychic connections to the dead, and the patriarchy. Just a typical day with your historians at Dig.
History Uncovered, Ep. 92 - The Enfield Haunting That Inspired "The Conjuring 2" Oct 25, 2023 The Enfield Haunting began with a bang. Literally. From 1977 to 1979, an unassuming North London home was the site of near-constant paranormal activity, from knocking sounds and moving objects to disembodied voices and the terrifying alleged possession of one young daughter of the Hodgson family. But how much truth was there to these happenings? And since the Warrens got involved briefly and subsequently touted themselves as experts on the case (and made money from talking about it), how much of what we think we know reflects the actual events?
"Paranormal" Literature
You’re Wrong About…Winter Book Club - The Amityville Horror, Pts. 1-3 Dec. 20, 2021 - Feb. 6, 2022 Sarah tells guest host Jamie Loftus about the Amityville Horror, how it’s a Christmas story, and buying murder furniture might not be such a great idea. Further highlights include Jodie the Demon Pig, poor insulation and terrible parenting as evidence of a haunting, lots and lots of sunk cost fallacy, and how the book kind of debunks itself.
You’re Wrong About… - Michelle Remembers, Pt. 1-5 March 26, 2020 - April 30, 2020 Intrepid hosts Sarah and Mike delve into one of the foundational texts of the Satanic Panic - “Michelle Remembers.” A young woman spends a year undergoing hypnosis therapy, which uncovers repressed memories of shocking and horrifying abuse at the hands of a Satanic cult. The book became a foundational text for both mental health professionals and law enforcement attempting to grapple with an alleged nationwide network of insidiously invisible child-abducting cults. The only problem is…none of what Michelle remembered ever actually happened.
You’re Wrong About…. - The Satan Seller, Pt. 1-5 June 28, 2021 - August 9, 2021 Sarah and Mike return to Camp You’re Wrong About for another Satanic Panic story hour. This time, the summer book club explores Mike Warnke’s 1972 “memoir” about joining a demonic cult, rising through the ranks of Satan’s favorite lackeys, his sudden downfall and redemption, and the California hedonism that made him do it. This is followed by a discussion of the Cornerstone Magazine exposé that brought the facts to light and thoroughly discredited Warnke’s story.
American Hysteria, Eps. 64-66 - Chick Tracts, Pts. 1-3 March 20 - April 03, 2023 In his own lifetime, Jack Chick was one of most prolific and widely-read comic artists in history. His company, Chick Tracts, published hundreds of millions of copies of pocket-sized bible comics, filled with lurid illustrations of cackling demons, wicked witches, and sinister cults, all hell-bent on corrupting any hapless mortal they could get their hands on. These tracts were meant to be left where they might be found by a sinner in need of salvation, with a scared-straight morality-play approach to Christianity that contributed in no small part to the period in the late 20th century we now call the Satanic Panic. (There’s also a follow-up two-part episode about one of Chick’s “occult experts,” who claimed to be, among other things, a real-life vampire.)
History Uncovered, Ep. 95 - Roland Doe, The Boy Who Inspired "The Exorcist" November 15, 2023 In 1949, priests performed an exorcism on a boy referred to as "Roland Doe," aka Ronald Hunkeler, in a chilling ordeal that became the real-life inspiration for William Peter Blatty's 1971 book, "The Exorcist," and the movie adaptation released in 1973. But what really happened during this alleged exorcism and was there any proof of the claims of alleged demonic paranormal activity surrounding the events?
You're Wrong About... - The Exorcist (with Marlena Williams) December 27, 2023 Marlena Williams, author of "Night Mother: A Personal and Cultural History of the Exorcist," joins host Sarah Marshall to discuss the little possession movie that changed America forever. Was the set cursed by Satan himself, or plain old 70s misogyny? What makes a country going through a cultural upheaval embrace stories about the Devil? And - the most critical question of all - do Ouija boards really cause possession?
Conspiracy Theories and Moral Panics
Secret Societies and Antisemitism
Historical Blindness, Ep. 14 - Bloody Libel December 12, 2017 An exploration of one of the most destructive myths in history - the blood libel, or the false accusation that Jews of the Middle Ages and beyond ritually murdered Christian children, a lie that host Nathaniel Lloyd traces back to its’ roots in medieval England and the murder of one Young William of Norwich.
Historical Blindness, Eps. 56-57 - The Illuminati Illuminated September 15-29, 2020 A contemplation of the modern conservative conspiracy theory of a “deep state” leads host Nathaniel Lloyd back to the dawn of the modern conspiracy theory, the Enlightenment, when the ultimate conservative conspiracy theory was born as an explanation for the French Revolution: The Illuminati!
Historical Blindness, Eps. 38-40 - Nazi Occultism, Parts 1-3 July 2-30, 2019 An exploration of the dark roots of Nazi occult philosophies, from a neo-paganism preoccupied with the Nordic Pantheon, to a folksy back-to-the-land movement that evolved into a nationalist sentiment, to an ideology of racial supremacy all tied up with contemporary myths and pseudoscience. (The host is careful to note with clarity and vehemence at the start of each episode that this series IN NO WAY approves of, promotes, or supports this ideology and Nazism is roundly condemned at every turn. It’s not an easy listen, but understanding how and why this bigotry continues to be a problem in pagan spaces and how to recognize it is very important.) TL;DR - Fuck Nazis. No tolerance for genocidal fuckwads.
DIG: A History Podcast - Werewolves, Vampires, and the Aryans of Ancient Atlantis: The Occultic Roots of the Nazi Party Oct 17, 2021 Modern movie plotlines which portray Nazi obsessions with occultism might be exaggerated for dramatic effect, but they aren't made up out of wholecloth. The NSDAP, or the National Socialist Worker's Party, was a party ideologically enabled by occultist theories about the Aryan race and vampiric Jews, on old folk tales about secret vigilante courts and nationalist werewolves, and on pseudoscientific ideas about ice moons. In this episode, the hosts explore the occult ideas, racial mythology, and 'supernatural imaginary' that helped to create the Nazi Party.
The Satanic Panic
American Hysteria - Satanic Panic, pt 1 & 2 Dec. 10 2018 - Jan. 07, 2019 This two-part episode covers perhaps the most mystifying moral panic in US history, the 1980s and early 90s ‘Satanic Panic.’ For this episode, Chelsey covers the rise of organized Satanism beginning in the late 60s, as well as the adversarial countercultures of the hippies and the metalheads, and their apparent Satanic crimes that would be hailed as proof of their evil, as well as proof that teens, as well as children, were in serious moral peril. Satan was allegedly hypnotizing the youth with secret messages in backwards rock songs, teaching them occult magic in Saturday morning cartoons, and causing suicides through a popular role-playing games, all while helping religion blur into politics for good.
For part two, Chelsey will cover what came next, a serious investigation into an imagined network of Satanic cults ritually abusing children in daycare centers all over the country. Chelsey will try to understand this shocking decade in history, why it really happened, and the cultural issues it was really about.
BS-Free Witchcraft, Ep 10 - The Satanic Panic April 27, 2019 The Satanic Panic of the 70s, 80s, and 90s shaped the Modern Witchcraft Movement in a lot of unexpected ways. Its effects still ripple through a lot of our sources, so in this installment of the podcast we’re digging into this extremely weird part of American history. It’s a bit of a doozy, after all.
BS-Free Witchcraft - Ep. 32: A New Satanic Panic? February 27, 2021 A couple of years ago, we did an episode on the history of the Satanic Panic of the latter half of the twentieth century, but recent events have led us to ask - could it be happening again? It’s very possible that we are at the start of a new wave of satanic panic, and QAnon is just the latest symptom of a larger problem.
Occultae Veritatis, Case #014: Satanic Panic of Martensville Jan. 28, 2018 Today the hosts cover one of the various Satanic ritual abuse scandals that happened close to them. Is it full of hot air and false allegations? Yes. Yes it is. 
Occultae Veritatis, Case #097A & B: Dungeons, Dragons, and the Satanic Panic Dec. 07, 2019 - Dec. 15, 2019 Dungeons & Dragons, introduced in 1974, attracted millions of players, along with accusations by some religious figures that the game fostered demon worship and a belief in witchcraft and magic.
[Last Updated: Dec 29, 2023]
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Blurry Faces
Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader
Cale hated peeking into your life without your consent, and yet here he is, seeing the things you have went through and how they shaped you to be the person you were.
trigger warning: implied sexual assault and pseudo-incest, mentions self-harm scars, suicide, death.
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You don't know where you are. A man, no, a child is holding your hand. You don't know anymore. Faces and bodies are morphing too quickly for you to comprehend.
"Please." A voice pleads to you, the way it has been doing for the last few days. Has it been days? Years?
"I don't want to," you say with a broken voice, tired of rejecting this request over and over again. "I don't know you."
"Yes, you do," the voice insists, sounding like a chorus of people talking. "You are the reason why we are here, why we have a home."
John disappeared a long time ago, taking his pleasant memories with him. He had faded slowly to the point he was unable to acknowledge you before he completely disappeared, leaving you alone. You were left alone and in the dark, as your memories played over and over again, good and bad. His memories no longer overlapped yours and you no longer see him. The memories that flashed in front of you had begun growing shorter and shorter, cutting the memories of you and Cale along with the others as if it never happened.
You feel like you were being gaslit. You remember waking up to see Cale, holding his hand and crying over him. You remember the sweet tea you share with Rosalyn, the amused grins with Alver, and the laughs of the children. You remember them. Let me remember them. 
"They don't exist," insisted the voice. 
"They do!" You fought back. You will hold onto these memories until your fingernails bleed and claw marks appear on them. You don't care. The moment you let go, you know you cannot have them back. You cannot enjoy life anymore if you let them go. "They're my-"
"They are your nothing," the voice spat. You feel rigid hands held onto you and force you to turn around. You were faced with the scene of your life before, one with your father when you were a child.
You see your child self sat on her father's lap, grasping at his shirt as your child self looked out at the rowdy playground, much too shy and scared to join the other kids. You see your father's large hand patting your back comfortingly, bouncing your child self on his knee to soothe you. You hear your father's comforting words as he talks to your child self.
"Come on, sweetie," says your father in a soothing voice; his voice so soft that you were stunned at the memory of the tenderness he was showing you. "I'm here for you. Take your time."
"No!" You exclaimed, turning away from the scene and walking away until the scene faded away. "Stop it!"
A scene of your mother appeared, her holding resting on a hospital bed with her face laden with sweat and tears. She held onto a bundle of blankets, cooing with tears in her eyes as she spoke to her baby. "Hi, [Name]."
What is all this? Why are these things happening? Why are you being shown the love within your mother's eyes for the first time here, and not when she was still alive? Why does your father comforting you over a rowdy playground have been so easy, but not when you started to show symptoms of depression?
"No, no, no!" You yelled, crouching down and covering your ears, eyes closed tight as tears threatened to spill. "They're all dead to me!"
"[Name]," a familiar voice called, too soft to the point it felt foreign.
Suddenly, you were five again. 
You look up at the faces of your parents, young and not yet influenced by their suppressed emotions and rage. Your mother smiled at you and your father pats your [h/c] hair. 
"Come here," says your mother softly, kneeling down and hugging you so gently that you burst into tears. This is not your mother. Or is she? You don't know. You never thought of her to be capable of showing tenderness or love in a way that wouldn't hurt you.
"Mom," you cried. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry--"
"Sshh," your mother says in a comforting voice. 
"I was--" You struggled to breathe as you tried to hold down your sobs, tears streaming nonstop and your throat hurt from the strain you're putting on it for not crying out. "Please, go away."
"No, I love you," she replied, and your lips quivered, more tears streaming down.
"I hate you."
"I know," she murmured. "I still love you."
You don't need her love. You have taught yourself to love yourself, to be better and other people have loved you immensely. You don't need her love. You have enough of your own.
"I hate you," you whisper breathlessly.
"I love you."
You broke down, crying to her shoulder, your arms limp by your side as you refused to hug her. Your mother doesn't deserve a hug from you. You've cut your skin too many times as a result of her actions and you will not show her love with the same arms. 
"My baby," your father says softly, joining the hug. His hands felt rigid and when you looked down, his nails were caked with dirt underneath them.
"Stay here with us."
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Cale covered his mouth and nose when he saw what was underneath the roots of the main tree of the island.
Piles of skeletons filled what used to be a great hall underneath the roots, most of them stacked high on the stone altar. They were all brittle and dry, proof that it had been a long time since they all died. Despite that, the stench of a rotten corpse wafts in the air.
"Urghh..." Ohn grimaced, covering her nose with her paws, staying with her sibling outside of the cave.
"Cale-nim," Rosalyn says, eyes staring at the rotten corpse of a man leaning on the stone altar, head down with a gaping hole in his chest, dried blood around him along with guts. "Her Highness' story about a man on this island..."
They had previously believed that the corpse of a man Withira had mentioned must be the man from the folklore of the Whale kingdom. The corpse of that man was holding the hand of another body that was laid on the altar in a tight grip.
'[Name],' Cale thought to himself, tempted to step closer the moment his eyes laid on the scattered [h/c] hair on the stone altar from afar, laid underneath the skeletons piled on top.
Rosalyn let out a soft gasp when she saw your body, eyes going glassy as she covered her mouth. "Is that...?"
"Be careful, Cale," Choi Han warned, recalling the story Withira had told them about being attacked when she got too close to the altar when she needed to confirm whether you were alive or not.
Cale stayed quiet, trying to rack his brain on how to move from their spots. 
'Will I be able to control the trees around here?' He thought to himself.
'Perhaps,' the gluttonous priestess answered him. 'But... I feel something within these trees. Something divine.'
'Divine?' Cale repeated. This cements the three saints' suspicions of you being tricked by a god. He tries to identify some of the things he could work with and classify whatever god had once been worshipped within the island, but he comes up with nothing. 
"Wait," Cale says, observing the corpse of a man further from where he stood. "Ron, confirm to me whether or not that's Captain John from where you are."
Ron frowned, bending down a bit to look at the slumped corpse from afar, eying the uniform and the crest that was embroidered on the corpse's blazer. Despite how the head of the corpse was down, Ron could easily spot the signature scars on the man's arms. He closed his eyes in resignation once he found his answer. "I can confirm that is Captain John, Young Master-nim."
"So the last two had been here," Cale murmured. 
"It appears so," said Ron, standing up straight. 
"What to do now?" Choi Han asked Cale. They don't have much room to move with the knowledge they will get attacked if they get too close.
Cale let out a sigh. This island had cobblestones, surrounded by trees, and the ocean wasn't too far away. He had Choi Han, Rosalyn, and a mighty dragon here. 
"We will now commence our rescue mission," Cale says, his voice firm. "Miss Rosalyn, Raon, and I will try to take care of the defense while Choi Han tries to grab [Name] from the altar stone along with the captain. We have to try to not fight the island and immediately escape back to the waters where the Whales are waiting for us."
Many things could happen if Choi Han tried to do that. The ruin could immediately collapse on them as they were being held up by the strong barks. If the strong barks let go of them to attack Choi Han--
'This is your playground,' says the gluttonous priestess. 'This island might belong to a God, but you can control nature here to a certain degree to save [Name] and retrieve the captain's dead body.'
Cale raised his hands, watching as the strong barks of the tree twitch to his will. He would not be able to control the main tree as its size was too big for him and most likely is the manifestation of a god that was once worshipped on the island. They would have more control over the tree than him.
Choi Han silently walked to the altar, the sound of his footsteps nonexistent as he took cautious steps and his hand held the handle of his sword, ready to attack anything that came his way. He pushed away the piling skeletons from your body, all of them falling to the ground and shattering due to how brittle they were.
Choi Hand placed a hand on your cheek and let out a relieved, excited smile when he felt warmth. "[Name]..."
"I-Is she alive?" Ohn stammered, watching Choi Han's smile widen upon touching you.
Choi Han looked up, nodding with glassy eyes. "Y-yes. Her breathing is a bit shallow, but she's alive."
"Come here, [Name]," Choi Han says softly, tucking his hand under you and trying to lift you. "Let's go home--"
Choi Han paused when your body couldn't be picked up from the altar. He looked down at your unconscious body, trying to find the reason why he couldn't lift you and he saw a few of what seemed to be long vines that were on the ground and had crawled up to your hand, up your arm, and then into your sleeves, the way they crawled up your hand resembled veins. 
"Something's wrong," Choi Han announced to them all.
"What's the matter?" Cale asked, watching Choi Han rip your sleeve off.
Choi Han tilts your body a bit to face the others and show off the way the green thick vines attached themselves to your skin, arranged like veins with leaves. He ripped your shirt further, stopping when he saw how the vines gathered right above your left breast, gathering into a circle and penetrating your skin, dried blood dripping down your skin.
Rosalyn covered her mouth at the sight. "Oh, God, is that... Are they going straight for her heart?"
A cold chill went down Cale's spine at the realization that the reason you might be still alive was because the island was keeping your heart alive. Had you... became one with the island? Are you the reason why the island has become sentient?
Choi Han touched the stems that gathered in your heart, noticing how the vines seemed to be pulsing along with your heart. He figured they were acting like some sort of cardiac device for you. His heart sank when he realized it was far too dangerous to rip off the vines. "We can't take her away." 
All of their eyes widened in surprise when the vines and barks seemed to move and form a tall, humanoid figure that loomed over Choi Han. A dianthus flower sat in the center of what seemed to be its face.
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"Did you think you'd be able to fool me?" 
Choi Han covered your body with his, his sword drawn out to protect, gaze growing dark as he glared at the humanoid figure made of vines and moss. "Who are you?"
A thick bark came out and swung over towards Choi Han but was stopped mid-air. Cale's hand was raised, stopping the bark from moving. He found himself overwhelmed with the amount of strength he had to put out to stop the entity from moving. He coughed out blood almost immediately, the blood coming out like vomit. At the same time, Rosalyn had put out a shield over Choi Han and the altar.
"H-Human!" Raon exclaimed, watching as Cale dropped to his knees but still kept himself to stop the entity from moving. The kittens ran to his side and Ron held Cale back so he wouldn't slump forward to the ground.
'He doesn't... feel malicious,' the Super Rock pointed out, sounding a bit flabbergasted as he was referring to the entity. 
"Leave," commanded the entity, pointing to the ocean where Withira and her Whales were waiting for them. 
"Not without [Name]," Rosalyn said with a determined look. A chill went up her spine when the humanoid figure turned its head to look at her, the singular dianthus flower in the middle of a blank slate of face somehow making him look more unsettling.
"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible," says the entity. "She is happy here."
The entity leaned down to Choi Han. The branches creak and snap as the blank slate that acts as a face was suddenly split widely like a monster opening its jaw.
"I was--" Your voice emerged in an echo from the entity's opened jaws, your voice sounding broken as it sounded like you were crying. "Please go away."
Rosalyn let out a shudder, tears gathering in her eyes at the sound of your voice again. She had nearly forgotten how your voice sounded. However, Cale was unnerved at how this entity was capable of having your voice. How does this all work? He can see the vines that formed the humanoid shape are connected to the one that's crawling up your heart. This entity most likely was keeping you alive by itself.
The entity's jaws creaked and then closed again back to a blank slate. "Leave."
Cale frowned, looking up at the entity. He's determined to know why exactly you were being kept alive. "What are you?"
The entity straightened itself. "It no longer matters. I've lost all the people willing to worship my name."
"So you're a deity," Rosalyn said, confirming their suspicions for the last few weeks. You wrote in your letter of believing it was a god or some kind that had been communicating with you within your head. Deep down, Rosalyn was relieved this wasn't a case of psychosis. 
"Then is this your attempt to get more worshippers?" Cale asked. "By taking an innocent woman?"
"One that belongs to me," says the entity, the vines, and branches that were formed into a tall humanoid figure elongated until its blank slate of a face was close to Cale, the single dianthus flower swishing with its movements. Cale was looking up at the entity in front of him. He could feel an incredible force of it all like he should be getting on his knees and pressing his forehead down to the dirty earth, but he didn't.
Cale looks up at the god, face hardened with a determined frown. 
'It is most likely an ancient god,' says the gluttonous priestess, her tone a bit hesitant as she could sense the weakness within how the God controls their branches. 'Can you feel the divinity within their branches and vines? He is channeling the lives of hundreds into that [Name] girl. I never thought that could be... possible.'
Cale glanced around the skeletons that were around the ruin. These were the remains of the dug-up graves they had stumbled upon earlier. These people were their worshippers and they have dug up desecrated their graves and put them here. 
"Leave!"
The ruins seemed to shake from the sheer weight of the god's roaring voice. A thick bark sprouted from the side of its body and swung at Cale. The redhead immediately conjured his silver shield and a loud bang was heard when the bark hit it. Cale felt blood coming up to his throat and he coughed it out, his heart pumping wildly as the Vitality of the Heart pushed him to keep standing. 
"Cale-nim!" Choi Han exclaimed. He was about to move from your body when a couple of vines had managed to wrap around his feet and keep him in place. He swung his sword at them and with every vine cut, more grew and grew up his limbs.
"Fine," says the god. "She's in need of a new heart, anyways. I can see you all are special."
Cale's eyes widened and he immediately put the pieces together. Why John managed to be here was because he was needed for his heart. The reason why those graves were dug up was because the god was desperate to find something to keep you alive, and it made him think there must be some sort of intangible force of energy that only a primordial god could tangle and control that could bring back the dead.
John's rotten corpse with a large, gaping hole in the middle tells Cale that this god will not be hesitant to kill them all.
"Ron, take the children and go!" Cale exclaimed. 
"Oh, now, you want to leave?" asked the god with a sinister laugh, going back to the walls of the ruin as vines and then spreading out. The trees and vines began to squirm, coming alive as their god returned.
This was their playground. 
"Let's go," Ron says, bending down to pick up the kittens and immediately sprinting out toward where they had come from.
"Raon, go!" Cale exclaimed. "Make sure Ron and the others reach Her Highness Withira!"
"Y-Yes!" Raon replied hesitantly, flying towards where Ron had run off. "I-I will come back!"
"No, stay with them!" Cale yelled to him.
Rosalyn ran up to Choi Han and your body by the altar, trying to rip off the vines that were beginning to cover your body. This was the god's attempt to keep you away from them again, and she will not have it. She whispered your name over and over again, hands slightly shaking as she touched your warm skin every time she ripped a vine, how thorns began to grow on the vines and they buried themselves deep into the magician's hands everytime they claw to save you.
"Miss Rosalyn--!" Cale watched as Rosalyn's legs were caught by the vines before she was pulled down to fall on the dirty ground, thorns embedding themselves to her flesh. 
"No!" Choi Han yelled in terror, trying to rip away the vines that were slowly beginning to cover his torso, wanting to save Rosalyn as she tried to free herself from the vines that were pulling her to the walls.
"Focus on her!" Rosalyn exclaimed as she was dragged, her face pale and cringing in pain. She seemed to catch on that the vines simply didn't want her around you and the best thing to do to not lose her leg was to stop squirming so much. "I will be fine!"
Cale barely felt the vines wrapping around his arms and before he could process it, he was immediately slammed to the walls of the ruin. His back hit the old stones and he groaned, the back of his head being hit causing him to immediately dizzy. He was suspended up on the walls, giving him a high view of you on the altar and Choi Han who was still on the ground, slowly being wrapped in vines and thorns.
Rosalyn was across him on the walls as well, suspended there while the vines grew up to their torso. Cale could feel the vines move across his body, slinking to his sleeves and then they probe around the scar on his chest. Without any warning, the vines tore at his flesh and he could hear Rosalyn's scream, her own heart being wrapped in vines as well as his.
"A-arghh-!" Choi Han groaned in pain as he could feel the vines enter his body.
'The kid's going to die!' Cale could hear the cheapskate shrill in his head. 'Cale, use me. Use your powers and get rid of this island.'
'He can't,' responded the Super Rock. 'The island is keeping that [Name] alive. If he destroys the island, he kills her as well.'
'It's either he kills her, or he kills not only himself, but everyone here,' argued the thief. 
Amid all the chaos, the Fire of Destruction whispered to Cale in a pleading voice.
' Kid, you have to let her go.'
Cale recalls your smile and your voice. For a moment, he nearly thought his Records have failed him when he nearly couldn't muster the thought of your eyes, but when he managed to finally grasp onto the memory of you, he held on to it.
Cale felt his eyes begin to grow weak, vines wrapped around his heart and he could feel his shirt being soaked in his own blood. The vines carefully avoid poking too much into his organs and some of them soak up the blood. The vines seemed to glow the moment they were touched by his blood, and every single vine that was tearing at him was connected to yours. He could only assume Rosalyn and Choi Han were given the same treatment. They most likely will die out of blood loss if this keeps on going.
'Cale!' the Ancient Powers inside him call for him, like a parent calling desperately for their child.
Cale closed his eyes, and he mustered the power to call for thunderbolts. He could feel it brewing in the skies right above them, and he could also feel himself slipping away. By the time the first thunderbolt struck, Cale was no longer conscious.
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"Oh, that's awful. I feel sorry for them."
Cale blinked owlishly as he stared at you. You were sitting down in front of him, dressed in modern clothes and your laptop open. Across from your seat was a faceless man, long legs stretched as the faceless man sat sideways on the chair.
Cale looked around, noticing that the space he was in was a cafe, similar to what he used to have in his previous world. He looked down at his chest, seeing that it wasn't wounded. He then goes back to stare at you as you converse with the faceless man, a look of faux disgust on your face. He leaned forward to look at what was on his laptop, seeing it to be an academic manuscript. Is this... your memory from your previous life before being transported?
"Uh, yeah..." The faceless man says with a small, nervous laugh. The faceless man seemed to turn to you. "I don't understand why she's so adamant about keeping her distance from you."
"She'd rather have her fifteen and six-year-old daughters to see her suffer than have me take care of her," you said nonchalantly, typing away at your laptop to cite a passage. 
"[Name], please," says the faceless man, turning to face you properly. "I-I know I'm being shameless by asking you to take care of her, but I can't--"
"You'd rather have me take care of your wife than your kids?" You cut him off, glancing up at the man.
By the bits of information, Cale could assume that the faceless man was your stepfather. He had known your mother had remarried after divorcing your father and you had two stepsisters. Your mother had died due to stage four breast cancer and lived only within two months before dying. You had been the one to take care of her despite her verbal abuse every time you visited her.
"[Name], please."
'Ah, so this is why,' Cale thought, watching you rubbing your face in exasperation before you let out a sigh of resignation. He had always wondered why you took care of your mother when the woman had been nothing but horrible to you. It was the request of her husband.
"Okay."
Cale wondered why he was seeing all this. He recalled how the vines had glowed when it touched his blood and every single vine that was glowing had been connected to yours. He could only hypothesize that he had been connected to you in some way and it would allow him to get a peek of your past; of the things you've been hiding.
Cale sees your stepfather reaching for your hand, murmuring a thank-you.
Your face seemed tired.
He doesn't like having access to your past. You're secretive for a reason and this felt like a violation of your trust in him. 
The sight of you and your stepfather faded and it morphed into a living room, another faceless man sleeping on the couch. Cale could tell this was a different man. It might be because you only remember their outlines but not their faces anymore. You're in the background, cutting vegetables by the kitchen island with a tired look on your face. Cale approached you, eyes trained on how you expertly cut off the stems of a particular vegetable in your hand. He couldn't exactly see what it was, as it was morphing back and forth between spinach, cabbage, and cucumbers. Maybe you don't remember, and that's why your memories are filling the lost memories by themselves.
"How was she?" asked the faceless man lying on the couch.
"Sick," you replied curtly. The man says something inaudible and you sigh. "She's not getting any better, Dad. It would be better if she just died."
"You should just die."
"I'm trying," you clipped back, cutting the vegetables more aggressively. 
There was a few moments of silence where neither you nor your father didn't talk. Cale sat on a stool by the kitchen island, watching how you frowned deeply while you prepared your dinner for your father together. He tried to touch your hand, and like a ghost, his touch went through your body. It unnerved him how you were in front of him, though younger in age, but he couldn't touch you.
His heart ached. This was you, but this also wasn't the you he knew. His memory of you in Record overlaps with the image he sees in front of him, but some things are different. Not only was your hair shorter here, but your eyes lacked the glimmer he usually sees within you. Your body looked thinner here, unhealthy. His eyes roamed over your figure, ingraining the sight to Records and just seeing how badly it had been for you.
"I'm sorry, [Name]," your father says quietly. "I was just... worried about your mother."
'But not me?' Your expression seems to say, but you stay silent and continue prepping the dinner.
"It's okay."
You cooked dinner and ate none of it. 
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The dark clouds gathered above the island and Raon could easily tell that it was his human's powers. He had seen it too many times and had seen the risk that affected Cale's body whenever he used at least one of his powers. And when that rose-gold thunder struck down, the sound had vibrated the air. The flash of the majestic thunder reached them first before it broke the sound barrier and the thunder rumbled, the air around the island vibrating the moment the lightning struck down on the gigantic tree in the middle of the island.
"No!" Ron had yelled at Raon the moment the dragon had seemed to show his desire to immediately head to the burning island.
"But, human-!" Raon began to protest, turning to face the older man and he stopped when he saw the look on Ron's face.
Ron had always had the expression of faux benign and if not, he would have a slightly irritated expression. But this time, in his eyes that were reflecting the flames of the burning floating island, Ron sees some kind of firm belief and also desperation. How can the man show such a juxtaposition of an expression was beyond Raon who still had so much to learn about expressiveness and humanity, but he could see it.
Ron's belief that he could have his young master back many times like he always has kept him on his feet and stayed in his place, but this was going to be the first time he would have his daughter back, if that was even possible, that kept him antsy and hope as if he was a pious man that has completely willed their destiny towards something that couldn't sympathize with him. He desired to believe in salvation, not his, but yours.
You were so unforgivably human. A normal aspect within this superhuman group and the fact that they would be able to get you back tasted too sweet for his mouth that he felt like his teeth would rot and fall out. You weren't Cale. Choi Han. Rosalyn. For goodness sake, you weren't even Beacrox. You were you, with no superhuman abilities that were gifted or taught to you nor do you have a god that loves you so deeply that they wanted to keep you alive.
"Don't," Ron says, the embers of the burnt leaves and shrubs from the island blowing past them as if they're snow, the flames from the island illuminating their faces. "Have faith in them."
Faith, what a ridiculous word it was to come out of the mouth of a murderer. Have faith.
For one reason Ron could not believe in God was due to the fact that such a mighty being could never sympathize with humans. They were omniscient, so they could never feel how humans feel. They do not hate and love like humans do. Humans die and that is why they feel things so intensely. Gods were mighty and they exist for so many eras and they don't age. They see things as insignificant when it doesn't concern their reign. How can something mighty and timeless understand the pain and beauty of living?
The fire licked away at the leaves of the trees and the crackling sounds of the burning trees sounded so serene. 
"Will they be okay in there?" Beacrox asked his father, looking at the burning island.
"It's only the top of the tree that is burning," answered Withira instead, looking up at the titan tree and how most of it was singed black at the top and the embers of the fire were eating away at the thick barks that swirled together like tendrils. "They're situated at the hollow space that is surrounded by the root. I doubt Cale-nim would strike down his thunder while they're there."
"Even so," Ron murmured, narrowing his eyes at the island. "Your Highness, may I ask of you to lead your men to keep an eye if any of them jump out of the island?"
Withira nodded slowly. "Of course. I'll have my men surround the island from a safe distance and keep an eye out."
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Choi Han has heard you say multiple times in a joking manner that time was simply a concept whenever you were late for something, how time wasn't real, and how it really shouldn't matter that much.
He's starting to believe it.
He stood here, within the shadows of your memories, watching how days pass by in your memories yet it felt like minutes to him. How magnificent it was that a God could do this. 
He learned many things about you. You were someone from the modern world, much like him and Cale. You suffered depression. You loved music and listened to it no end. You had an emotionally abusive father. You loved going thrift shopping. You weren't close to your sisters. You loved the cheap tuna mayo sandwich your classmate would bring you. You hated your mother. 
You were practically living in the hospital to aid your mother. The cancer on her breast had spread fast and she had become paralyzed as it spread to her marrowbone. Her husband was busy at work so he rarely came by, but whenever he did, he would bring his daughters along to "visit their mother and older sister". You knew the nanny must have ditched last minute. Your sisters would leave, faces scrunched in disgust whenever the hospital room smelled like feces, and stood by the corner of the room quietly as you picked up your mother to change her diaper and clean her up every time.
Your father would be at home, refusing to visit your mother to respect her wishes to never meet again but incessantly asking for her well-being to you whenever you got home late at night. You wonder how much love your father has from such a violent woman that even though he was abandoned just like you, his love endured. You thought of him as stupid, but other times you wish you could have that preservance in loving someone. In believing in the idea of someone so much that it blinds you.
"What's that?" asked your six-year-old sister, standing by your chair as you were writing down your notes, your chair not too far from your mother's hospital bed, the older woman knocked out with morphine.
You turned to the little girl, smiling half-heartedly as you didn't want to be bothered. "It's just my notes."
"For what?" pestered the young child.
"Studying," you answered, setting down your pen and closing your book, giving all your attention to the little girl.
"I study, too," the little girl says, and Choi Han sees that you are hesitant to continue the conversation.
"Yeah?" You eventually prompted with a small grin, still uncomfortable. "What do you like studying about?"
The little girl waved her nemo doll fish in her hand. "Fishies."
You smiled, tired already from the conversation. You had a long day from watching over your mother. The woman had gotten high off of morphine and had hit you multiple times when you were trying to change her out of her diaper. The nurses doubled her dose.
"That's good. I like fishes, too."
You left to go to the bathroom and when you returned, Choi Han saw that your sister had drawn fishes on the margins of your notes. You touch them whenever you're concentrating.
There were moments like that that showed the girls appreciated you for watching over their mother. The two weren't blind to the abuse you suffered while you cared for their mother - your mother. You were doing your bachelor's while caring for your mother, studying all night in the dim hospital room, having no life outside of being a caretaker.
"Don't you get tired of it all?" asked the fifteen-year-old sister this time while you were leaning back in your chair, a neck pillow on your shoulders. 
"I do," you replied to her, eyes trained on your sleeping mother.
"Then why are you still here?"
You turned to your sister, seeing the way she was so similar to her mother - your mother. Her lovely brown hair and gray eyes. You think of your mother. You think of how much potential she had had she not married your father, had she not given birth to you. What type of girl was she? Would she take the right side or the left side in front of a camera? What did she want to be when she grew up? 
Choi Han watched you grasp the hand of your younger sister. "Because it'll come back. The love I have given here today will come back to me."
Your sister frowned. "I think it's time you start to care about yourself a little more."
An older sister who sees the need to be tender despite it all, and the younger sister who thought of her as stupid for loving a dead woman, Maybe you have become your father. Maybe that's why your mother didn't like you both; you were both idiots who kept on drinking poison just because you were thirsty.
As your mother's health deteriorated, Choi Han saw how much it affected your sisters. They cried at random times and were beginning to help around with taking care of her. Your six-year-old sister sings random notes in off-key to entertain her sick mother while your fifteen-year-old sister is learning how to help you lift the woman off the bed if you ever need to clean her up.
The day she finally passed away, you slept soundly in your chair not far away from her bed. It was the most pristine memory of yours that Choi Han had ever seen when you woke up, hearing the soft murmurs of the nurses as they gently shook you awake, how the heartbeat monitor was no longer beeping. Sunlight passes through the blinds and for the first time, the room feels light.  
Would it be too cruel for Choi Han to describe it as if a great evil had finally disappeared?
You didn't participate in the funeral arrangements and simply attended with your father. He cried and you held his hand, thumb brushing over his palm to soothe his pain the best you could. Choi Han doesn't understand the level of love someone could have for the people who have made them suffer. 
You stood outside of the funeral home, cigarette lit between your lips. Your fifteen-year-old sister stands beside you.
"Do you regret taking care of her every day? Just for her to end up dead?"
"I don't regret being kind."
"I bet you're thinking that it's good riddance."
Choi Han could see emotions bubbling in the teen's chest, how they were looking for an outlet to spill their feelings onto. To yell out their love into the void, because that was what grief was. To have your love nowhere else to go.  
You saw it as well and threw down your cigarette, stepping on it to put out the embers. Your silence didn't help much as your sister began to choke on her tears before she eventually sobbed. You offer her a hand and she takes it, and you immediately wrap your scarred arms around your sister as if she were your lifeline.
"My mom," she sobs in your arms. "I don't have a mom anymore."
You stayed quiet, kissing her cheek and temple to ease her pain as best as you could. The action seemed to only drive your young sister to more crying; "I'm so sorry for all she's done to you... It's all my fault."
"Don't apologize," you whispered. "Children shouldn't carry the sins of their parents. You've done nothing to me."
"I exist," she replied, hiccuping. 
"And how wonderful is that?" You cupped her cheek, smiling. "That you exist."
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Choi Han watched you sit with your sisters until the youngest one fell asleep with her head on your lap, while your fifteen-year-old sister still talked with you animatedly even though it was nearly midnight. The funeral was still going and he became alarmed the moment everyone in the room began to fade into grey silhouettes, leaving you the only figure with a face.  
From far away, Choi Han saw your father standing by the exit door of the funeral home, popping out like a sore thumb between all the grey, dull silhouettes. What kind of memory was this? Were you hyper-aware of your father even though he was standing so far away?
"[Name], I need to talk to you."
Choi Han's eyes widened as he saw a distorted figure standing in front of you and your sister. They were a black silhouette of a man, their silhouette distorting with growing sharp edges standing out every second. Their voice was distorted and Choi Han struggled to find the connection as to why this particular memory of yours had everyone fading out like a shadow while your father and you stayed the same, this silhouette was so distorted that Choi Han's guards were up despite how he couldn't interact with the memories here. 
"But, Dad--" says your younger sister and it clicked to Choi Han that this distorted figure was your stepfather.
"I need her for something important. Only she could do it."
Even his voice sounded so displeasing like nails dragged against a board. You stood up to follow your stepfather into another room, and Choi Han saw your father beginning to exit the funeral home when he saw you walk away with your stepfather. Choi Han followed your father, bewildered that the memory was still showing up so clearly when it was clear you weren't supposed to know where your father went.
Choi Han followed after your father and he realized midway that this wasn't your memories but your father's. How can that be? Choi Han had assumed that he could see your memories because the vines that were penetrating your heart were connected to the one penetrating his - he could easily dismiss it as something magical of the sort as its explanation. But your father? Why was his memories here? 
He followed after your father's journey by car, sitting in the backseat as the man drove alone in silence, leaving you behind at the funeral home. He drove and drove and drove, for hours on end until he eventually ran out of gas. 
Choi Han stepped out of the car to follow your father as he ditched the car and began walking. There was a sense of eeriness at how quiet the man was, walking with dried tears on his face. Your father walked in a straight line for hours before he came across a forest.
Your father stopped by a lake, and so Choi Han did as well. From across the lake, Choi Han saw someone he was relieved and surprised to see.
"Cale-nim?" Choi Han called out.
Cale saw him and his eyes widened. "Choi Han? You're here, too?"
The two didn't have too much time to converse when your father walked into the lake without any hesitation. Both of them watched with wide eyes as the man attempted his life by drowning before the water let out a bright, purplish light and your father was gone in the blink of an eye.
"[Name]!"
Both Cale and Choi Han heard Rosalyn's shrill cry and the scenery changed immediately back to the halls of the funeral home, the space warping and distorting. They could see Rosalyn walking past the dull grey silhouettes and the two approached the rattled magician.
"Miss Rosalyn!" Cale called out.
"[Name], she's in there!" Rosalyn began to say, hurried and in panic as she ran to a door. "We need to get her out!"
Suddenly, the incoherent murmurs of the crowd within the area went silent and the three of them could hear your voice and your stepfather's crystal clear in the middle of all the warping of space and distortion.
"I'm... grateful you were there throughout everything."
"It's okay. I knew you loved my mother deeply."
"..."
"What are you doing...?"
"Has anyone told you that you're a very beautiful woman?"
"..."
"You look so much like her."
"Please, don't..."
"It's a compliment. Did I make you uncomfortable?"
"I-I think it's time I get back to my father."
"No, no. There's no need to rush. Your father already left earlier because I told him you'll be staying the night with your sisters."
"I never agreed to that. Please, let me go home."
"No, not until we do this."
"N- No, please--!"
A deafening sound filled their ears and bright light filled the room, blinding the three of them. Rosalyn's face was red with anger and sadness, eyes glossy with tears as she had come to a realization of what had happened behind that closed door.
When their vision came to, they were all staring up at a bright blue sky, laying on the mossy cobblestones, the holes on their chests all wrinkled up close. They all sat up immediately, seeing how the island was a complete disaster due to Cale's lightning bolt. The trees were on fire, embers falling like snow. The majestic tree that had been the manifestation of the ancient God's powers were struck, the trunk split down right in the middle, showing a dark hole filled with vines and sticks, pulsing and glowing with golden energy.
The ancient god, a giant lump of vines, sticks, and divinity was moving across the land like an octopus, your body on top of it as they carry you to the split trunk.
Cale recalled back the vision of your father drowning himself before being completely swallowed by the light. "I think I know who that beast is."
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aceofpatience · 8 months
Text
🌙Your past life🌙
Well, hello my little oysters 🐚 This reading is an insight into your past life. I was looking into your energy, your previous job, goals, love, family, obstacles and advices form your past self etc. So there might be some things that could possibly trigger you (mentioned death, life difficulties). But, as always, take what you please, comment if anything resonates and just enjoy.
Shall we SEA?🌊
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Pile 1. Uroboros
Who were you: Scorpio energy. I think you were in some position of power. Very secretive, always keeping things to yourself. Also keeping yourself in the shadows as you didn’t like being in the center of attention. You knew you were smart and you used it to your own advantage. Old soul, maybe during medieval times. A part of nobility?
Your main goal/want: I’m getting the vibe that you were born in an upper family but you just wanted more. However your ambitions were not all wishful power lust - it was more rational, strategic. You despised sitting still and doing nothing. You were deep into the game and you were good at it, trust me. To be honest, I’m getting some Game of Thrones energy - not only with fighting houses but also with the setting (castle corridors flooded in semi-darkness lol). You wanted to make things better (whether it was literal things or something more abstract).
What did you do (job/finances): Your wealth (at least in the beginning) came directly from your family or heritage. You didn’t need to work for money, you worked for yourself, maybe some relatives. You liked the struggle, the puzzles, the intrigues. It kept your mind occupied. „Finally, a worthy opponent.” *hides a smile*
Love life: I’m sensing some arranged marriage or marriage of convenience (but it’s not like you were pushed to do it - maybe even you were the one who thought it would be a good idea to get married for some reason). You were for sure not looking for love. BUT. With the marriage ceremony completed, true love was served to you on a damn silver platter. Y’all just skipped the dating phase lol. And, what is important - your spouse had very similar energy to yours. You joined forces (world domination couple xd). It’s like when Loki of Asgard fell in love with the alternative Loki. For some of you, it could be the same sex relationship (but then it would probably be in the shadows). Or it could also mean that there was actually no marriage - because it was your decision whether to have one or not - and if you knew it wouldn’t serve you, you simply wouldn’t get married.
Children (or not): I’m getting some only child energy. It was your decision to have a child - not only you planned it but you actively chose one (adoption maybe??). Or maybe you had a pupil for whom you were not only a guardian, but also a mentor. For sure your child has grown to be just like you. I don’t think you were that kind of a parent who shows their affection openly (I know, shocker), but you were a protector. And your child admired you. For sure.
Obstacles: Passion has always been a dangerous field for you in your past life. Dangerous dance. As well as all the people around you. You didn’t mind competition, but to find out that you actually deeply care for winning? That wasn’t something you signed up for. It was scary to find out that the game actually affected your emotions. You worked better with your mind engaged only.
An issue that progressed into your current life: Sometimes a spilled coconut milk is just a coconut milk. 🧉 It’s not about being grateful for shitty things in life or just being grateful - just look around to see other things. Maybe don’t focus only on this milk. Maybe on some fruit, mango perhaps idk. You don’t need to win every day to be happy. (Sorry for philosophical bullshit but I heart these one loud and clear)
Life purpose in your past life: Power, strength and wisdom (the holy trinity lol). You were surrounded by spirits who really enjoyed watching you mature. And by maturing in that case it meant being able to look in the mirror (and face your emotions).
Lesson from your past life: Sharing is caring lol. Appreciate your family or don’t be afraid to create one. Some battles are worth fighting for, even if you know you are going to lose. And sometimes it’s okay to step back (you made your point, so what? Everyone is dead already, nobody heard your damn point). Sometimes it’s enough to fight for what you need, not for what you want.
Death: I don’t think you died of old age, you were at full strength. You just grabbed a higher position when it happened. You fell off your high horse lol. Or maybe you literally fell off some rocks.
Pile 2. Orange tree/sefirot
Who were you: Sagittarius. Love given. Love received. Strong personality. You had all you needed in you. The real magic in a real person, who cared deeply for their family. Your touch made things grow. It’s like your everyday chores were a spell you cast on things around you. A warm happy gaze.  You did ponder the way the universe works, karma, past and future lives. I think the person you once were, was actually aware of who you are right now. You saw the future! And, I think you lived somewhere sunny and warm. Maybe the south? I see an orange tree.🍊
Your main goal/want: Peace. Harmony. Trust. The connection to the spiritual world. You had and still have really strong roots. You saw my gaze once. I feel there was a time in your life when you wanted revenge (or something similar) and as a result it carried you away from the life that you truly wanted.
What did you do (job/finances): Your previous job required an enormous responsibility on your part, you had a high position. So maybe you were a doctor, a judge, a scientist, or a soldier.
Love life: A lot of passion and desire, but also heartache. One of you had a position lower than the other. I’m also sensing some age gap, and there was some imbalance in that relationship. I think you often split up and got back together a while later. Maybe people around you were against your relationship and you had to hide it. I’m sensing you both went through a lot of changes during your lives - you grew up together. And you never gave up on each other.
Children (or not): Surprise child. Unplanned pregnancy. Maybe you live in times when your relationship was forbidden and you couldn’t get married. And with the baby you both found yourself in a difficult situation (but you made a choice to keep it). Very much your choice. That’s random, but I feel that despite all odds your child was very happy and optimistic. A little ray of sunshine. You cherished your child, spoiled them with love.
Obstacles: An illusion you wanted to live in. I don’t think you were naive, but some people might have judged you as such. It’s more like you just couldn’t stand the ugliness of the world sometimes, so instead you decided to create a small perfect bubble for you and your family. A cheerful oblivion. But it wasn’t oblivion after all - you weren’t oblivion, you just couldn’t stand all the bad things.
An issue that progressed into your current life: Number 8. Like it was in your past life, you still have the urgency to help others. You have hope in you, which is beautiful, but some people might use it against you. You crave your ideal life, but be careful or you’ll end up stuck in your fantasy. I'm hearing the words: „Don’t drown”.
Life purpose in your past life: Motherhood (not necessarily literal). You had such amazing nurturing energy, capable of creating life. I’m almost seeing this as if you could make a tree blossom just by touching it. You were a perfect listener, you made people feel seen. Also you could have been a truly amazing protective parent (I’m getting the vibe of a mama-bear).
Lesson from your past life: Protect your home and yourself first. If you genuinely want to help others, make sure to care for yourself first. Giving yourself to others doesn’t mean slowly destroying yourself. Breathe.
Death: I think you lived to an old age in your past life. And as you were getting older, you were separating more from the world outside. I think it might have something to do with your death. “For two grandma swore.” (don't ask lol).
Pile 3. Atlas holding the sky
Who were you: Responsibilities. Religion. You were a human lucky charm, attracting good things. Fate either with or against you in your life, no in-between. Your existence made others believe in miracles, even though you yourself were quite a down-to-earth person. You gave off the vibe of a noble knight who helps their neighbors and everyone loves them. I'm seeing a sentence: „It’s not who you are, but what you hold within yourself.” Idk bro. And I think you lived rather close to nature, so no big cities.
Your main goal/want: Your goals mostly revolved around material things (you weren’t greedy, just responsible lol). That’s random but I think you wanted to own a part of the land (take care of it, cultivate it, use it, and live there).
What did you do (job/finances): You were so hardworking. Couldn’t sit your ass down. Something school-related? Or maybe church? Professor or a priest? For sure your workplace gathered a lot of people for whom you were a mentor.
Love life: A love that is a gift from the Universe. Steady relationship. Instant attraction, a lot of courtship. Something that was supposed to be just a physical thing turned out to be a deep connection. You both understood each other so well - you could have had a conversation without talking, just with your eyes. You quickly got married but not without making a little sacrifice (moving out to a new place, a downgrade to your life before or something like that). But, like I said, this love was a gift. You didn’t waste it.
Children (or not): You planned your family. You had all the time in the world, so you could go the traditional way. I think you had a couple of children after you got married. Your home was idyllic, seriously. I’m even seeing some flowers in your house and a beautiful garden. Safe bubble of comfortable ease.
Obstacles: There was some unconscious desire in you for some drama. A big action, a great gesture. Don’t get me wrong you were SO fulfilled at the family level, but something about your spiritual life, your faith, got you kinda restless. It’s like you heard the fate calling out to you, but you loved your family too much to follow it. But the call stayed. A small rip inside you.
An issue that progressed into your current life: You still can’t stand to do nothing. I bet even if you tell yourself you can rest, your thoughts just keep running and running. It’s maddening. And I think you rarely ask others for help. You might seem open and friendly but all the most important stuff you only keep to yourself. 
Life purpose in your past life: Guiding others. You held some authority you knew how to use. And the call - I’m sensing that some goddess above or idk, some spirit, might have been a bit bitchy about you choosing the family instead of your divine mission. But you go, bro! Show’em!
Lesson from your past life: „Pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source.” Listen to uncle Iroh! Don’t take yourself so seriously. And trust your instincts. Remember that the distance from the real world might be painful - history shows that gods rather often ask for sacrifices than handle gifts.
Death: Your death was quick. Maybe poetic? Or just tragic. Happened at the moment when you ended some important part of your life. No specifics here, sorry dudes.
Pile 4. Prometheus
Who were you: You were a warrior. A street-smart person. You experienced so much at a very young age (I’m getting the number 16). Because of that you had to grow up too fast. Mature eyes, but a young face. You were rather reserved, distrustful, often skeptical. But also strong, resourceful, independent. People might have felt intimidated or even scared of you.
Your main goal/want: „What am I working on now?” You wanted to master your skill. Even though you’ve already gone through the training phase, you still wanted to prove yourself. You were being deceived by your own personality.
What did you do (job/finances): You commanded others. You had to face forces much bigger than you, all alone. You were giving orders, but it doesn’t mean that you didn’t work as much as your subordinates. You were responsible for others but demanded the most from yourself all the time. Your job was rapid, you definitely weren’t sitting behind a desk.
Love life: Twin flame. Your spouse was destined for you. You met at a crucial moment, when you both needed somebody like the other in your lives. You both were on a tough path: I’m seeing two soldiers supporting each other while marching. (I don’t mean your job was for sure connected with the military - it's more about your resilient energies together). Intimacy. Passion balanced by a soul connection. Whispering secrets to each other’s ears in the dark. Sharing quick kisses in the daylight. You will meet again. Coz that's what you do - you keep on going and your paths are always crossing.
Children (or not): I think the moment when you and your spouse were safe enough to start a family, was actually the biggest victory for you. For your children you were the biggest authority. They looked up to you all the time. As for you, I’m feeling a lot of pride and fear for them. You wanted to be a perfect parent, again putting too much pressure on yourself.
Obstacles: Some circumstances in your environment made you move around the world. For some time in your life you couldn’t stay in one place for long. The politics of the times in which you lived put crutches under your feet.
An issue that progressed into your current life: You have this tendency to make sacrifices, putting yourself in danger. It eventually may lead to a whirlwind of less fortunate events that cannot be stopped.
Life purpose in your past life: Embracing solitude. Finding out you are as much human as the rest of us. You can make mistakes and still be reaching greatness. You can be alone, but what for?
Lesson from your past life: Focus on love, connections. Learn to combine opposites within yourself. You don’t need to choose one path. You can be with others and not lose yourself at the same time.
Death: In your sleep. You had some kind of divine protection - as you died, you were taken care of and guided home.
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peakyswritings · 5 months
Text
Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC
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PART V
Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.
A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.
After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️
PREVIOUS PART
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Dividers credit
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1915, five years earlier
“They say Italy might join the war soon.”
It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.
“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.
“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.
Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.
“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”
Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”
“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”
“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”
“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”
Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.
“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.
“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”
“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”
Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.
Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.
Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.
“You still can’t say things like that.”
“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.
There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.
“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”
As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basked on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”
Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.
Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”
“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.
A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.
“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”
Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.
Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.
As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”
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Present day
“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”
“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.
“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to lit his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”
“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”
“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.
Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.
“And you are different, aren’t you?”
The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.
He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”
Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.
Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.
“Yes, I do like horses.”
“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”
“So you didn’t get the horse.”
“I didn’t get the horse.”
“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”
Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.
But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.
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“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.
A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”
Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.
That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.
“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.
Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.
Then why did she feel so bad?
Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”
“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”
“What if he doesn’t love me?”
“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”
She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.
“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.
“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”
“You’d better go, then.”
As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.
When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.
“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.
A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”
Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.
His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”
“He never said no.”
“I did.”
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.
“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”
Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”
This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.
“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”
The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.
An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.
Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.
Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”
“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.
“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.
Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.
But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.
“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.
Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he had felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.
Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.
Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.
Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.
The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.
“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.
“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”
“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.
“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”
Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.
The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.
When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.
“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”
Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.
“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.
They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.
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Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.
She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.
But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.
A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.
He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.
When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.
“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.
His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?
“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”
Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.
A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”
“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.
“Like I might break at any moment.”
Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.
“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”
“You should tell-”
“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.
Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”
Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”
Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?
When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.
No. It wasn’t right.
Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.
Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.
“Goodnight, Nina.”
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NEXT PART
Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe
Heart, Body and Soul tag list: list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader
Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes
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candywife333 · 5 months
Text
Fish-wife or No Wife
Summary: Did Jungkook have a wife? The rumor mill had been churning for years, divided on this one topic. He was a successful worldwide pop star who was always seen with a different lady on his arm, as he flitted from country to country enjoying his prolific career. The reason for the lingering suspicion was a cryptic social media post showing a picture of 2 kids who shared the same exact eyes and smile as him. So in fact, if he truly did have a wife, who was she? And why had the public never seen her? Perhaps she didn't wish to be seen.
Description : famous pop-star/idol jungkook x chubby y/n , might be two-shot or trilogy
Disclaimer: The character of Jungkook shown in this fanfic does not accurately represent Jungkook's true personality or actions. Please treat this story as fiction.
Trigger warnings: mild voyeurism, dub-con (still debating on this), rough sex
Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/candywife333/733312853462974464/fish-wife-or-no-wife
I looked out the window, joyously peering at the bevy of daisies and pink carnations crowding outside. As usual the entire mansion I lived in with my two kids, Iro and Mari, remained peacefully quiet except for their occasional tinkling laughter floating downstairs. My babies, aged 4 and 7 were having their tutoring sessions at home. The tutor, a sweet girl by the name of Lim Nara frequented our house to teach them math and science. They loved her as did I.
For the perhaps millionth time in the past 6 years, I patted myself on the back for the wise decision I had made. Marrying Jungkook was the smartest choice I had ever made. We had a marriage of convenience that the general public had no knowledge of. He had proposed marriage to me when he was left with Iro, still a baby at the time, after a one night stand with a foreign model.
I had always desperately wished for children, even as a I had worked a pretty rigorous career in PR for HYBE. Being 25 at the time, I wanted a life of leisure after working all throughout high school and college to support myself and my sister, Wei, when my parents had succumbed to loan sharks and eventual death at the hands of alcohol.
One night I had been getting ready to head home when Jungkook, the notorious play boy pop-star had stumbled into me as I was exiting the building. He had a baby in his hands, who could've been not more than 1 year of age. I didn't realize that I would meet the love of my life that night. I was arrested in place by the little chubby baby with fat rolls all over his little thighs and miniature arms, with soft curly black hair, a round face resembling that of the full moon, and big black eyes that sparkled with happiness and love.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. Shocked at bumping into the pop star with a little baby I had jolted in surprise, "Are you alright Jungkook-ssi? Everything ok with you? Do you need any help?" The indefinitely reserved man had expressively opened his doe shaped eyes as far as he could and stuttered in a manner unlike his usual, "Could you please take care of this baby for the night? I will pay you. I have to be at a fashion event which goes on later this night. And even though I tried contacting the baby sitter, she is not picking her phone up right now".
I was shocked for a few seconds at this sudden plea for help. I didn't even know Jungkook that well, except for a few meetings in which PR employees were required to iron out some rules about social media engagement for him and the rest of the members of BTS. Partly still paralyzed in bewilderment and a sudden unworldly connection with this beautiful little bundle of fluffy giggles and flailing chubby limbs, I took the baby from him, "Sure Jungkook-ssi. I don't mind watching the baby for the night."
Jungkook know his request had been odd and rather rude as Y/N was an entire stranger. However, he couldn't decline this event. It was a prelude to a bigger calvin klein shoot that would take place later this year in Tokyo. And he had to be there. Anna , baby Iro's mother, had left him on his doorstep in the most callous way, jetting off to Madrid for a different photo shoot with her modeling agency.
He had made the stupid mistake of not using protection that night, and had wrought the consequences. Jungkook stared at Y/N briefly, assessing her. Even though he knew she was not in a relationship, she looked like a mother. She was the type of girl who you knew would take care of babies and nurture them. She was curvy , with luscious thick hair cascading down her back and a very warm face. The quintessential girl next door. Nothing dazzling or glamorous to look at, but sweet and friendly. Like a neighborhood librarian. Or the girl next door who you could ask sugar from.
All the members of BTS knew she was the fixer upper of the PR time, very skilled at her job and aware of what she had to do to avoid bad press. Extremely efficient but kind, human in a way that they had not seen in years, even since their debut. Jungkook was at a loss for what to do and he had been coming to the agency to look for his manager. Yet, to his great luck he had found Y/N.
The next morning he had popped up at Y/N's apartment to take Baby Iro. When the door opened, he noticed Baby Iro giggling and playing with pokemon stuffed plushies in a corner as Y/N made something that smelled like sweet rice congee. She was dressed in a pink satin robe that concealed yet hinted at her lush frame. Her hair was in a bun as she ladeled him a bowl with a plate of cooked salmon and seaweed soup.
"Please eat, you must be exhausted from the shoot". As she walked over to Baby Iro, placing him on her lap as she persuaded him to take a bite of congee, Jungkook had the brightest idea. "Y/N, would you marry me?" Y/N almost fell off the sofa shocked at his sudden abrupt proposal. She chuckled in disbelief, mouth frozen in confusion, "What do yo mean Jungkook -ssi? Is this some type of prank?"
Jungkook ran over to hold her soft hands in his. He rambled, eager to get out his explanation before she put him outside his door on his way, "I need someone to look after Iro. With my lifestyle and the way I want to live, a baby does not fit into my plans. But I do not want to abandon my flesh and blood. If we are married, I will gaurantee you a third of my wealth written in a pre-nuptial and whatever else you would like. We would keep your identity hidden. Please consider my proposal. We can have a marriage of convenience, written out in a contract. No feelings, just business."
I stared at him in shock at his boldness and audacity. As the request filtered through my brain, I realized it for the great opportunity it was. I wouldn't have to serve a man, but would have all the privileges that came with being married to such a prominent star. He would barely be in the house, jetting god knows where with god knows who. And I could have wealth, peace, baby Iro and a baby of my own. Everything I yearned to have since I was a little girl. Babies of my own and money. Money that would not trap me into a desolate life. I could pay for Wei's college and set myself up for a stable life.
Measuring my words carefully, I solemnly uttered, "If you want this to happen, I want complete anonymity and my name written into the pre-nuptial with the amount you suggested. My only other stipulations are that I have a separate house for me and Iro, away from you. I need to ensure Iro has a stable upbringing without having to see models and other stars come in and out of the house constantly. The last condition is that I would like to have your child. We can do this through artificial insemination in a clinic. I have always wanted a house with children and if you intend on asking something this big from me, I intend to do the same. You and I will never engage in sexual intercourse and will keep this strictly a marriage of convenience. You will visit the kids at least once a month. I have no other say in what you do with your life, and wish you follow the same boundaries with me".
He sat there shell shocked at my quick rejoinder to his preposterous proposition, chewing on his lip ring , bangs occluding his dark eyes, pondering my requests. His voice reverberated through the room with finality, " I agree. You have a deal. I will have my lawyers draw the papers and that is what we shall do." We had a civil ceremony the next day itself, taking less than 15 minutes for the signing of the papers. He had looked disinterested and barely spoke through the ceremony.
After this interaction, I didn't see him till 2 months later. I had shifted into a beautiful house resembling a gargantuan cottage placed in Jeju near the coast. It was exactly what I had been hoping for, a home, away from the pollution of the city. He had written a third of his wealth into the pre-nuptial, which would be used at my discretion. The first thing I did was to pay off Wei's tuition for university and any debt our parents had left us.
I took a decent sum of what he had written in my name and invested it in many other tiny resorts in Jeju, making sure that the money would multiply. My kids and I would be set for generations. That was the aim. Iro was growing day by day, from a chubby little baby who giggled and snorted at the swaying daffodils and baby turtles that washed up onto the beach near the house, to a healthy glowing kid, friendly and happy, intelligent with a beautiful voice reminiscent of his father.
Jungkook kept his promise and showed up for a fortnight once a month to visit Iro the first year. The year after, his visits decreased. And with each passing birthday of Iro, the visits dwindled even further. He had kept his promise of providing sperm for artificial insemination, and as Iro turned 4, I had Mari. Wei came to help me during that time and we both watched Iro. The nights together were beautiful. Wei would help me cook all my favorite dishes and desserts, as we relaxed with house staff in the evenings, setting up beach promenades and tiny little parties for Iro and baby Mari.
My life became exactly as I envisioned it. Born on Christmas, Mari showed up as a mischievious chubby little tot into the world, breaking the glasses of the doctor who had delivered her. She was ridiculously strong, turning over entire flower beds even at the age of 2, learning to walk ridiculously quickly. Breastfeeding her was a travesty. She would tug at my nipples impatiently with her teeth sometimes , forcing the milk to enter her mouth.
My babies and I were living the dream. Jungkook stopped showing up a month before my delivery. He never saw Mari or Iro. From tabloids and news, Wei and I gathered that he was too busy hanging out with his members, attending parties and fashion events, living the busy pop star life. The tabloids held sensational titles of his new paramours, a new one close to every month. The women were so beautiful, otherworldly compared to me. I stayed healthy but curvy, thick thighs and butt, with a plusher stomach. The only drastic change to my body were the big boobs that had been blessed from pregnancy, that grew to be 2 bigger cups.
I had loose skin, and cellulite, and slightly droopy breasts. But I was happy and peaceful. I had everything I could ask for, taking care of my babies, stacking our money continuously as I wrote novels under a pseudonym. My romance novels were popular, and I had a book signing lined up next month in Seoul I intended to take the kids to as well.
Just as I was booking tickets for Seoul, I received an invite from Jungkook's secretary, "Hello Ms. Y/N. Mr. Jeon Jungkook is requesting you attendance for a banquet that is happening in his main residence. His parents will be attending and he would like to introduce the kids to them. Please promptly be there in the next 2 weeks at 9 AM. Thank you."
Well I guess the kids and I would be going sooner than I expected.
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ninadove · 8 months
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Hello, all respectfully, may I ask, why do you want emilie to be dead? I mean adrien deserves to have his mom back, don’t you think? You can answer it thru private chat if it makes you more comfortable.
No that’s perfectly fine! I love getting a chance to overanalyse and write down my own thoughts! 📝
So, I have a complicated relationship with Emilie as a character, but I don’t hate her by any means. I do believe she is a lot less pure and innocent than we were first led to believe, but that makes her much more compelling, so as far as I’m concerned it’s a great writing choice.
The reason I think she should be dead, or more accurately, stay dead (the nuance is crucial), is simply storytelling.
As fun as the show is, it is also pretty serious when it wants to be, and these 5 seasons were written with a couple of core messages in mind:
Part of the experience of being human is to accept that there is no magical solution to our problems. Sometimes things don’t work out, sometimes we lose the people we care about; and actions bring consequences, always. This is why using the Peacock carries such a heavy toll, even after it is fixed, and why the Lucky Charm primarily relies on Marinette’s intelligence and creativity (characteristically human qualities) rather than being an automatic problem solver.
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Whenever these losses occur — you have to move on. Staying stuck in the past means depriving yourself of a chance to enjoy the present and plan for the future. All of the events of these 5 seasons were triggered by Gabriel’s inability to accept the concept of death, and by his attempts to drag all of Paris down the pits of grief (symbolised by the akuma attacks) with him — starting with his own son.
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Of course, Adrien deserves to be happy and loved! And Emilie herself explains how it can happen:
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By letting her go.
Adrien is an extremely strong and loving kid who, unlike his father, is able to shoulder the pain while still opening himself up to the world. Gabriel trying to bring Emilie back did nothing to fix the sorrow his son had to deal with; in fact, it cost him his other parent and a normal childhood in the process.
But the thing is — Adrien does not need Emilie anymore.
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He has a girlfriend who loves him so much she gave his dad one last chance to make the right choice, despite all the pain he caused (and will likely continue to cause from the grave). He has a cousin who loves him so much he was willing to burn the world down, then help fix it to protect him. He has amazing friends who supported him through this entire ordeal (special shout-out to Nino, who has been on Gabriel’s case since S1 E9), even when he did not feel comfortable enough to share the full extent of the abuse he was going through. He has Amelie and Nathalie, who will provide him with the motherly love he needs in his life, and Tom and Sabine, who are already packing him his breakfast every morning because they’ve carved him a place in their family and hearts. Also, he has a cheese-eating demon who lives in his pocket.
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No one is entitled to raising the dead, and Adrien would never even consider it. But he does deserve love and care and happiness, things his father deprived him of in his senseless quest to defy the laws of nature — things he was able to build for himself because he chose to be kind and vulnerable despite his grief.
Season 6 will be terrible on him, but he will come back stronger on the other side. And in doing so, he will send an important message to the core audience of the show: young children who will sooner or later have to mourn a loved one themselves, but will know they can be OK thanks to his example.
And you know, sometimes us adults need a little reminder too. 💚
155 notes · View notes
ismellpestilence · 11 months
Text
Things to watch if your favorite show is being affected by the WGA strike
This is everything that I have watched and enjoyed. They are by no means perfect shows. This includes complete series, cancelled series, and series that are still in progress. Feel free to add your own recommendations.
Only Murders in the Building (Hulu; currently on season 3)
Murder mystery dramedy set in a wealthy NYC apartment complex
Staring Steve Martin, Martin Short, and Selena Gomes as three residents who decide to make a podcast about the murder
The cast has great chemistry and the twists are compelling
Gravity Falls (Hulu/Disney; ended after 2 seasons in 2014)
An animated show about a pair of fraternal twins who spend the summer with their con-man great uncle in a weird, monster filled town
Absolutely iconic children's show.
Dead End: Paranormal Park (Netflix; cancelled after 2 seasons in 2023)
Animated YA show about two teens, an exiled demon, and a pug, that all work at a haunted theme park and are investigating the disappearances of some of the staff
Similar in style to Gravity Falls
Sadly cancelled by Netflix, but there's also the graphic novels to enjoy
Reservation Dogs (Hulu, ended after season 3 in 2023)
Coming of age dramedy about four Indigenous teens living on a reservation in Oklahoma as they mourn a friend who died and dream of running away to California together
Made by an all Indigenous writers, directors, and main cast
Scrubs (Hulu; ended after 8 seasons 2010)
Workplace comedy about staff at a California hospital
Praised as the one of most medically accurate medical show
Very much a 2000s comedy. Humor can be jarring/mean by today's standards
What We Do in the Shadows (Hulu, currently on season 5)
A mockumentary following 4 vampires and their familiar that live on Staten Island as they go about their boring, pathetic lives
Makes fun of the "cool, sexy, edgy" vampire trope
Based on a 2014 movie of the same name
Dead to Me (Netflix, ended after 3 seasons in 2022)
A traumedy (trauma comedy) following a woman who's husband was killed in a hit-and-run and the perpetrator who lost her own partner and secretly befriends her
It's funny about what happens but does deal with some heavy topics so definitely look into that before watching
The Owl House (Disney; ended after 3-ish seasons in 2023)
About a young girl who wanders into the Demon Realm and decides to stay there and become of witch instead of going to summer camp
Celebrates being the weirdo and being kind to people
Made by many of the same people who did Gravity Falls
The Office (Peacock; ended after 9 seasons in 2013)
Workplace mockumentary about some bizarre people who work in a boring office space
Features a lot of cringe/second-hand embarrassment based humor
Based on the British limited series of the same name
Very much a 2000s comedy that can at times be just plain mean. Season 1 is the worst season by far so if you can get through it the character become way more likeable
She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix, ended after 5 seasons in 2020)
An animated fantasy about a young soldier who simultaneously discovers that her side is the aggressor in the war and that the planet has chosen her to be it's legendary protector. This forces her to leave the only home she's known and her childhood friend to fight for the rebellion, who she thought were her enemies
A remake of the 1985 He-Man spinoff series
Very "defeat them with power of friendship and also this sword you found in the woods"
BoJack Horseman (Netflix, ended after 6 seasons in 2020)
An adult animated comedy about a self-centered, washed-up 90s sitcom actor (who is a horse) as he struggles to become famous again and break out of his destructive habits
Satirizes Hollywood, media culture, and American politics
One of those shows where you aren't supposed to admire the main characters
Big trigger warnings for this one. Seriously.
Good Omens (Amazon Prime, currently on season 2)
Follows the misadventures of a demon and an angel, a witch's descendent, two unskilled witch hunters, a sex-worker, and the antichrist and his friends as the antichrist grows into his power and brings about Armageddon, all set to Queen songs
Based on the 1990 book by Neil Gaiman and Sir Terry Pratchett
The fandom focuses a lot of the shipping side of the show but forget all of that if you plan to watch it
Season 2 wrecked me
Gentleman Jack (HBO Max & the BBC; cancelled after season 2 in 2022)
Based on the real diaries of Anne Lister, a wealthy lesbian in 1830s England who is looking for a wife and to expand her business enterprises
Sadly HBO pulled away and the BBC couldn't afford to make another season without them. What was made is still worth checking out.
Our Flag Means Death (HBO Max; currently on season 1)
A pirate workplace comedy/romcom that loosely follows the real life of Stede Bonnet, a wealthy landowner who ran away to become a pirate due to a mid-life crisis. He wants so badly to be a pirate captain but is far from qualified for the role.
"Traditionally, piracy is a culture of abuse...floggings, keelhaulings. And my thought is, "Why?" And also, what if it weren't like that?" really is the thesis of the show
(Edit) omg I cant believe I forgot:
Avatar: the Last Airbender (Netflix; ended after 3 seasons in 2008)
An animated children's fantasy series in which people can manipulate one of the four elements, and their peacekeeper, the Avatar, can manipulate all four. After being frozen in ice for 100 years, the 12 year old Avatar learns that the Fire Nation has begun a war that he must stop by next summer
Literally the blueprint for the modern animation that we enjoy today. IDK what else to say. It's iconic
Hilda (Netflix; ended after 2 seasons and 1 movie in 2021)
An animated children's fantasy series set in a world full of Nordic folk creatures
After spending much of her life living in the woods with her mom and her pet deerfox, Hilda is upset to learn that her mom now wants to move to Trolberg, a walled-off city where Hilda fears there is nothing interesting to do. She quickly discovers that there is just as much magic and wonder in the city as there is in the woods.
She's voiced by Bella Ramsay and the animation is beautiful. It's all all-around good vibes show.
Interview with the Vampire (AMC; currently on season 1)
After the first interview in the 70s that ended in disaster, Louis de Pointe du Lac reached out to Daniel Molloy and demanded a do-over. He goes back to his life as a black businessman in 1910s New Orleans and the complicated relationship between himself and Lestat de Lioncourt.
It's actually gay enough this time you guys.
I'd also like to add:
The Bear (FX/Hulu; currently on season 2)
A dramedy about a New York chef who inherits a failing sandwich shop after his older brother commits suicide.
Sometimes a found family isn't all sunshine and unicorns. Sometimes its a lot of screaming and resentment and cussing each other out.
It's a very stressful to watch so it's not for everyone, but if you're the type who finds that cathartic then you should give it a watch.
The Sandman (Netflix; currently on season 1)
Begins in 1916 with the capture of the god of dreams by a greedy sorcerer. After he escapes he must rebuild his realm and repair the damage done by his absence.
Trying to describe this show is really, really, difficult. It would be easier to describe what this show isn't.
Based on the DC comic of the same name by Neil Gaiman.
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riahlynn101 · 5 months
Note
Can you write a little O.S. About Mike x Vanessa during a festive period like Christmas, with Abby ( only for a moment ) and the ghosts of the animatronics, out of the bots but somehow, they still can be seen by Mike, Vanessa and Abby
I wrote more than I thought I would :D!! This request was so fun to write, so thank you for asking for it! Hope you enjoy <3
Trigger warnings: Implied/referenced murder and kidnapping (but it's not the focus of the one shot).
Word count: 1, 387
--
It’s the day before Christmas. 
Boughs of (plastic) holly and colorful tinsel hang from the restaurant’s walls. Mike couldn’t afford a tree (fake or otherwise), so he improvised (if only for the children). In its place sits the saddest bare branch tree. Hardly a tree, really, and more of a large stick with a few Christmas ornaments hanging off it. 
The children adored it, though. Which is all that matters, at least in Mike’s book. 
They sit with his sister in front of the tree. Abby’s teaching (or re-teaching. There’s no telling what they knew before they…..) them Christmas Carols. 
“They look like they’re having fun,” Vanessa says. They stand near the arcade, supervising. 
“Good,” Mike mutters, keeping a close eye on them. After what happened last time he let a younger sibling wander out of his sight, he’s not taking any chances. “It’s the least they deserve. And it’s not like any of us are going anywhere, anytime soon.”
Vanessa, Abby, and him were all snowed in during his shift. It might be possible to drive home, but he would rather not risk it with his sister in the car. And Vanessa decided to join them until the storm passed. 
It’s not a bad situation by any means, and certainly not the worst Christmas Eve Mike has ever experienced. They’re warm and safe and together. That has to count for something.
Vanessa seems to process his words, lips pursing into a thin line. “Yeah,” she agrees. 
They continue watching over the kids for a moment longer. 
“Hey,” Vanessa says, nudging his arm.
Mike looks at her. “What?”
“I wanna show you something, c’mon.” She heads into the arcade. Worry gnaws at Mike, keeping him in place. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the other kids, it’s just….
“She’ll be okay,” Vanessa reassures, grabbing his hand. “We won’t be long.”
It didn’t long for Garrett to be…
He doesn’t finish that thought. Mike allows her to slot their fingers together. The action makes a part of him feel dizzy. But the good kind of dizzy. 
The kind that feels like a thousand butterflies have taken up residence in his stomach, and are flapping their wings at the same time. 
Mike looks over his shoulder at his sister, one last time. Before following Vanessa deeper into the pizzeria.
She leads him by the hand, making idle chatter. Mike finds he likes listening to her. Not a second goes by that he grows bored of her excited ramblings. Even when she tells him the same story for the tenth time, he still reacts like it’s the very first time. 
Vanessa stops suddenly. “Here,” she murmurs. 
“What?” 
Giddily, like a child on Christmas morning, she points at something above their heads. 
“Oh,” Mike says, staring at the mistletoe hung in the doorway of the backroom. He can’t remember bringing it here, nor can he recall hanging it up. Which means….
Vanessa deflates a little, backing up. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. We can just shake hands if you-”
Her lips taste like peppermint. Mike thinks, fingers tangling themselves in her hair. Most likely from the candy canes they ate as an after dinner treat. Vanessa’s warm. Warmer than anyone he has ever met before. It’s a good warmth, too. Like a blanket on a chilly morning. 
She grips the back of his shirt, kissing him with just as much fervor. 
They pull away, panting, and faces red.
“Uh….thank you,” Vanessa says, awkward as ever. 
Mike quirks an eyebrow, trying to think of the right words. Something to put her at ease, and make things not awkward. “....Anytime….?” He tries, biting his bottom lip for emphasis. Which instantly makes Mike feel more awkward, so he immediately stops doing it. 
She laughs. “Anytime,” Vanessa says, nodding her head. Turning to leave, she looks over her shoulder at Mike. “That was….fun.”
It takes him a solid five minutes for his brain to process what just happened. And another five minutes to actually head back to the lobby. 
The kids have curled up together and fallen asleep, like a bunch of puppies. Which raises the question of how ghosts can sleep, but Mike is in too much of a good mood to put much stock in what sleeping habits the supernatural have. 
He sits beside Vanessa in a booth. Snow continues to softly fall outside. The lights are dim. All of them are together. 
“It’s peaceful,” she says, a sort of fondness in her eyes whenever she looks at the kids. 
Mike hums, resting his chin in his hand. The Christmas lights they strung up around the stage are set to change colors every so often. He watches them change from red to green, a smile forming on  his face.
“Christmas used to be my favorite,” he admitted.
“Mine, too. It was the only day of the year that my dad paid attention to me. He would make me breakfast, always pancakes in the shape of rabbits and bacon. And then, we would open gifts.” Vanessa frowns. 
Mike sighs. It hurts to talk about the past, but if it makes her feel less alone. “My parents would make Garrett and I breakfast, as well. Mom liked to change it up every year. One year was pancakes, the next was this jell-o concoction that she found in a Reader’s Digest.”
A smile returned to Vanessa’s face. “Did it taste good?”
“No.”
“No? It couldn’t have been that bad?”
“Imagine if the grossest meatloaf you’ve ever had suddenly had the consistency of jello.”
Vanessa stuck her tongue out. “That sounds disgusting.”
“It was, but mom was proud of it. So, we all ate it without complaint. You should have seen how happy it made her,” Mike says, smiling fondly at the memory. He can still recall the stomach that followed, but his mom’s genuine reaction made it all worth it. (It wasn’t until later that Garrett and his dad admitted that they gave their portions to the dog. Something they failed to fill him in on). 
“I remember one Christmas in particular. Now, Garrett was really into all things airplanes. He drew them all the time. Liked to play pilots. And even his blanket was covered in images of tiny airplanes.”
Vanessa listened to him, chin propped on her fist. 
“Well, one day, when I was walking home from school, I saw a toy airplane in the window of an antique store. I immediately thought of my brother. Our parents would give us money to buy each other a present. But the plane was far out of my budget.”
“Did you find a different one?” Her tone is soft. “I can’t imagine you gave up.”
“I shoveled a lot of driveways that year. Babysat, and did extra chores, too. I was beyond exhausted, but Garrett’s joyous squeals as he pulled the plane out was worth every penny.” It’s Mike’s turn to frown. “That was our last Christmas with Garrett.”
Vanessa takes his hand, rubbing circles with her thumb. “It sounds like you’ve always been a good big brother.”
“Yeah,” he mutters sheepishly. Suddenly, he feels embarrassed. “I guess I was.”
“Are,” Vanessa corrects. 
“What?”
“You are a good brother. Nothing’s changed.”
He thinks of Abby right then. Of her drawings that feature them together. Of tucking her in at night. And of them joking around and being silly together. 
He thinks of the children. Kids that-had that gotten a chance to grow up-would have been around his and Vanessa’s age. Mike thinks of how they seem eager to show off to him, crowding around him first thing during his shift. Pale cherubic faces staring up at him with something akin to wonder.
Even the blond-haired boy, who only occasionally finds time in his busy schedule to visit Mike while he’s at work (and less rare, but definitely not welcomed, while he’s at home). 
He smiles, squeezing Vanessa’s hand. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she says, echoing her sentiment from earlier. 
And, for some inexplicable reason, Mike knows she means it with all her heart, mind, and soul. With every single fiber of her being. 
Him, too. Mike thinks, idly, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes. Like two stars shining in the deep, dark void of space. Anytime, anywhere he’ll be there for her.
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confused-wanderer · 1 year
Text
Fanfic writers, please show Jason and Dick’s turmoil towards Bruce. It doesn’t matter if the writings fluff or angst, I just want to see realistic repercussions of their time with Bruce.
Obviously, he was not the best father by a long shot. Hell, he never even knew how to parent, teach or take care of children, he just wanted to help. But the road to hell is usually paved by good intentions.
Bruce would’ve fucked up a LOT with Dick, never knowing when to be cautious or straightforward, kind or angry, especially to someone who’s suffered almost exactly like he had. Someone who’s seen his parents die, his world shatter and now is filled with vengeance and trauma. Someone who needs his attention, even on stupid matters while he’s going through his own battles of staring out as batman.
With Jason, he must’ve had a whole NEW problem. Jason’s experience on the streets, his niche triggers and responses to some mundane activities or phrases, Dick’s hatred towards him and Jason while also trying to make sure this one doesn’t get himself killed. With fear and frustration comes anger, and cold logic so I’m pretty sure there must’ve been a few instances to say the least where Bruce retorts with something out of anger or trying to get Jason to realise just how serious things are, only realising too late how much it affected him.
I want their hesitation and fear portrayed. How Dick hesitates to tell Bruce something about a topic that was sensitive when he was younger. The way he holds his breath, waiting for the onslaught of lectures and scoldings, or how he laments on something like “God I’m so careless how could I have missed that?” Which would have previously been met with “You are no detective, you need to do better, this could cost you your life.” But instead hears “it’s okay, we all make mistakes. You’ll get it next time, maybe a few practice rounds would help.”
How Jason gives up hopes of communicating with Bruce at all after the arguments they’d had in his childhood over everything and nothing. How nowadays he doesn’t speak much at all, and always answers in curt sentences, thinking Bruce would not have the time, care about unimportant details or not approve of activities. It’s why he hesitates on the edge of a panic attack or needs help to call Bruce, always keeping it as the last resort. But instead of hearing “I always told you to be careful” or “You could’ve avoided this..” he hears “How does it feel chum? I know it hurts, but how can I help?”
Because when Tim came, let’s be honest he saw Robin as a job. He didn’t give a flying fuck and thus remained relatively unaffected by Bruce. Not to mention with two robins, and Tim being Tim, Bruce could never really pick on things to actually hurt him. In time, sure he gradually saw Bruce as a father figure and they got closer, he still has a lesser fear and knowledge of Bruce’s behaviour.
Just a fic which shows Bruce trying, changing and not realising just how some things he did or said fucked up his children. How he tries to understand why, for the life of him, Dick never really talks about what’s really bothering him, or how he can help, or really anything about his life that he genuinely enjoys. Bruce lives for conversations with Jason, and keeps trying to remain upbeat and patient while he prompts conversations every time because he doesn’t understand why Jason has become just as quiet, if not more than how talkative and expressive he was as Robin.
Shit happened, and there’s nothing he can do to fix that, he knows that. But he doesn’t know what actions or words of his are actually ingrained in their minds. He doesn’t remember the emotional extent of how bad some things seemed. He might remember being strict with Dick, but he doesn’t remember how he had once told Dick that he would never feel the happiness like he did with his parents before when the kid had come crying to him on the anniversary of his parents shooting saying how much it hurts. He recalls being harsh with Jason when he had done incredibly reckless things trying to find his biological mother. He doesn’t remember telling Jason that maybe it’s a good thing that his mother doesn’t want to see him.
All I’m saying- Give me a fic in which through something, supervillain, mental breakdown - something that makes Bruce have that moment of realisation of how, no matter his intentions, feelings or context, he’s responsible for their fear of him. I want to see how he reacts to this revelation, his moments of panic, guilt and horror when he realises just how badly he fucked up. How he desperate starts trying to change himself, how he slowly tries to start building relations and starts being more patient, caring and considerate..because he truly loves his children, and he misses them.
232 notes · View notes
nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months
Note
My idea is:
Tony and the reader were high school sweethearts, and they loved each other very much, but she went to college in another country, and they had to separate 😔 but they never stopped loving each other... a few years later, she returns to live in the United States and they bump into each other in a coffee shop or something, they recognize each other, have a coffee and a long talk together, the flame of love burns in their eyes and he asks her out on a date... they go out to dinner, spend the night together 😏 and promise never to separate again. A few more years showing them married and with children 🩷
I love your fluff and smut very much
Falling in love again
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PAIRING | Tony Stark x Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 2.2K
SUMMARY | You've been living abroad for almost a decade, and when you find yourself back in New York, you also find yourself in touch with the man you thought you had said goodbye to forever all those years ago. When the flame reignites, the two of you never let go again and finally live the life you have always dreamt of.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Smut [ Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie ]
A/N | Thank you so much sweet Nonnie, this request melted my heart, and I can't wait to hear what you think of it! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and if you ever have another request, don't hesitate to let me know 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly
Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist
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The sight of the city you grew up in is odd but, at the same time, so familiar. You're walking through the streets of New York again after being away for almost a decade to go to college in the UK. You are entirely in your element as tiny snowflakes start falling, and the city slowly starts to get coated in a white layer.
The first place you go to after not being here for so long is the place you love the most and have the most memories: the giant Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. What you did not expect, however, is to run into someone who once upon a time meant more to you than anything in this universe.
You're standing in line at a hot chocolate cart so you can warm up a little bit since the snow is starting to pick up. You adjust your jacket and scarf slightly when you suddenly hear your name being called from a distance.
You don't need to look over to see who it is because you recognize that voice from anywhere, and you're delighted you get to hear it once more. ''Tony? Is it you?'' you ask, and a wide grin appears on your face as he approaches you.
''What are you doing back in New York? I thought we'd lost you forever to the charming people of the UK,'' Tony joked, and you couldn't help but feel like nothing had changed in all those years you have been gone.
''I just missed New York; it never quite felt like home, so I have officially moved back,'' you tell him, and then it's your turn to get your hot chocolate.
''Can I get two peppermint hot chocolates, please?'' you ask, and Tony smiles wide. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and you realize you've never stopped loving the man next to you.
''Let me get them,'' Tony says and you agree. You give him a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you, and you see the blush spreading across his face at the feeling, which confirms your suspicions.
''Come on, let's go somewhere we won't get snowed in,'' he offers, and you happily walk with him while bringing up old memories. Before you know it, you've ended up at your apartment building since you live near Rockefeller Centre.
''Did you want to come in to catch up? This is where I live,'' you say, and he does. Opening the door and leading him into your apartment feels like coming home for Tony.
''I still can't believe how it feels like coming home, even though I've never been here, and I haven't seen you in years,'' he chuckles, and you smile widely at his compliment.
''Well, having you here with me makes it a whole lot better, and the fact that it's Christmas finishes it all off for me,'' you tell him, and the Christmas joy is pretty much leaking out of your pores.
''Do you still drink the same tea as in high school?'' you ask, and Tony nods while giving you a smile that warms your insides through and through.
When the tea is made, you sit down next to Tony on the couch, and without thinking about it, he puts his hand on your thigh, just like all those years ago. Like nothing has ever changed.
The two of you talk for hours and hours on end, talking about everything you've missed out on over the years until it is finally time for Tony to go home.
''It was great to catch up with you, and I would love to see you again,'' he starts as he's at the door, and you nod.
''I'd love that too, Tony,'' you say as you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek, and a thank you for everything, for not making your Christmas so lonely.
''How about dinner on New Year's Eve? Maybe we can even ring in the New Year together,'' he offers, and you see a glint of mischief in his eyes.
''Wouldn't have it any other way,'' you say, and with one last hug, he returns to his own house, and you're left with a rapidly beating heart, a lip that's almost raw from biting it to keep in your squeals, and an ache between your legs that only he can resolve.
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It's New Year's Eve, and you're getting ready for dinner with Tony. He texted you to be prepared at 8 P.M., so that's exactly what you're going to do, and your outfit is already laid out, ready for you to wear.
You've taken a shower and slipped into a black lingerie set you chose to make Tony go crazy for. The two of you may have been in love for all those years, but your first time together will be exceptional in every single way.
Your makeup consists of a red smokey eye to compliment your dress and a nude lip to ensure you don't overpower the look. Your hair is put up in braids with a half-bun, letting the rest fall over your shoulders.
All that is left is slipping into your red velvet dress and putting on your black heels, which is perfect timing because Tony will soon take you to the restaurant.
He has always been punctual, and today is no different; at precisely 8 P.M., he knocks on your door. You open it with a big smile to see Tony standing in front of you in a black three-piece suit tailored to perfection.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you look him up and down, his hair styled in his usual messy hairstyle, but even with the suit, it looks like it belongs and doesn't look out of place.
''Hi, Gorgeous,'' Tony says as he takes you in, your long legs underneath a red dress, your makeup complimenting the dress, and your accessories matching each other perfectly.
''Hi,'' you say shyly at the nickname, and he holds his hand for you to join him. You take it, and you can't help but think about how warm his hand is, sending a shiver down your spine at the touch.
The drive to the restaurant is short despite all the traffic, and you arrive on time for your reservation. The hostess shows you to a table on the second floor, with perfect sight of the fireworks later that night.
You two picked up your conversation right where you left off, and over dinner, there was a lot of laughter, longing looks back and forth and touches here and there. When there were a few minutes left until midnight, he guided you to a balcony where you had an even better view of the fireworks.
He came to stand next to you while handing you a glass of champagne, and his hand found its place on your waist, sending a shiver down your spine.
''I can't believe we found each other again on Christmas day; I can't help but think it was a sign from the universe,'' you tell Tony as you turn to him.
''Hm-hmm, the timing couldn't have been better. Speaking of which, it is almost time to ring in the new year,'' he says, and your heartbeat quickens, and you feel your cheeks getting warmer with anticipation.
You hear people counting in the distance, but it is such a faint noise that it could never have been there. Tony's hand cups your cheek, and he brings your face to his, a dull roaring in your ears as you close your eyes, and he kisses you when the clock strikes midnight.
His soft pink lips capture yours in the sweetest, most sensual kiss the two of you have ever shared, and it seems to go on forever. When you pull away, you have a slight grin on your lips, unable to keep it from happening.
This kiss awakened a fire within you that never really went away, but while it had been a teeny flame for years, it was now a full-on fire that made your blood feel like lava.
''Please promise never to let me go again,'' you whisper as you look deep into Tony's eyes. he kisses you in response, which makes your knees buckle, and he has to hold you up.
''Everything okay there?'' he asks, and you try to laugh it off, but you know it's useless. Tony is well aware of what's happening and can't wait any longer.
''I need you, Tony,'' is all you say before he takes you to his house, and when you're there, the two of you don't waste time going to the bedroom. He has a perfect oversized couch, as you're getting very impatient.
He strips you out of your clothes in record time, and his own follows right after as he lays you down on the couch.
''Are you sure about this? Because after this, I'm never letting you go,'' Tony asks, the irises of his eyes almost completely taken over by his pupils out of pure lust.
''I'm sure, Tony. Please make me yours,'' you whine, and he does, not wasting any time. He lines his hard cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, your back arching at the stretch as he slides home.
Moans leave both your lips, but as soon as his lips brush against yours, you attach them, drinking in each other's sounds when he is buried completely.
''Jesus, you feel so good wrapped around my cock,'' Tony groans out while your fingernails scratch his back to get some grip on what's happening. You feel your mind slowly slipping from you, Tony being the only thing you can think about.
''P-please,'' you whisper, and with that, Tony sets a slow pace, trying to make you feel as good as possible for as long as possible. He keeps hitting your sweet spot, and within no time, you feel your orgasm washing over you as your fingers have found your clit.
''F-fuck, Tony, make me cum,'' you pant; he does, as he picks up his pace, this time chasing his high.
''Gonna pump you so full you're gonna be leaking with my cum,'' he says, and after a few more pumps, he makes true to his promise. Long ropes of cum shoot into you, and not long after, you cum again, too, making his seed drip out of you.
''You look so good with my cum leaking out of you,'' Tony says before he uses his fingers to shove it back in, making sure it all stays in.
After that, Tony takes you to the bedroom, where you repeatedly make each other fall apart until the morning sun rises.
You get a few hours of sleep, and when you wake up, you're expected to find Tony, but instead, you're met with an empty side of the bed and the smell of breakfast in the kitchen.
As you get up, you grab one of Tony's shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs before walking to the kitchen and greeting the man you love more than anything in this universe.
''Good morning, Gorgeous,'' he says as you walk into the kitchen with your messy hair. You're glad you removed your makeup before falling asleep; otherwise, you would have been a mess.
When you're next to him, you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his arm as he fries some eggs for breakfast.
''Thank you for everything,'' you say, and your heart is filled with joy now that you have the love of your life back.
''I should thank you for walking back into my life like you did,'' he says as he plants a soft kiss on your lips, leaving you smiling like a lovesick idiot.
''I love you,'' you whisper, closing your eyes as you rest your head again.
''I love you too,'' Tony responds before putting the egg on a plate.
''So, you hungry?'' he jokes, and you can't help but smile at his idiotic jokes, but you would not trade them for anything.
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You're in the kitchen preparing some vegetables for the barbecue you and Tony are hosting for the Avengers, their other halves, and their children now that the two of you have bought a bigger house to accommodate the little ones growing inside you.
Tony is outside with the Avengers, and you look out the window; seeing how thrilled he is now makes you happy, too. You've finally gotten the life you have always dreamt of living together.
A few years ago, he proposed, and not even six months later, you were married, your first child on its way not long after. Now you're pregnant with kids 3 and 4, expecting twins.
''What are you dreaming about, Gorgeous?'' Tony asks as he walks into the kitchen, unable to be away from you for too long.
''You,'' is all you say before he pulls you in for a kiss. Your daughter Morgan and your son Jonas are playing in the garden with Clint's children, and all the Avengers are enjoying themselves.
''Life couldn't be any better if we've tried,'' he says, his hands finding their favorite place, your stomach.
''Life is perfect now,'' you say as you lean against him while looking outside. If you had known this would happen, you would have returned years ago instead of staying away for so long.
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106 notes · View notes
thesithdiaries · 1 year
Text
Traitor (Harwin Strong imagine)
Traitor (Harwin Strong imagine)
Pairing: Harwin Strong x female Targaryen!reader
Requested: Yes. Whoever sent this in, you are a monster
Warnings: y’all this is sad, like episode 6 type of sad, angst central, possibly triggering for some, mentions of death, my friend doesnt even want to help me write this
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Y/N Targaryen has been married to Harwin Strong for four years. 
Since she was not the heir, her father was not too focused on her and her duties. He had given her the option to choose the man she wanted to marry. Y/N and Harwin fell in love immediately when they formally met during Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding feast. It was blissful. They took their courtship slowly, getting to know each other correctly, there was no haste.
Now, after many years of having fun and enjoying marital bliss, Y/N had given birth to a son, Aethan, and he was now just about two weeks old. He looked exactly like his father.
They resided in Dragonstone. Rhaenyra had decided to move there after she gave birth to Joffrey. Y/N did not even know what exactly triggered it, just that it had something to do with the Queen and Ser Criston. Additionally, Harwin had fought Criston during a training session with all the boys. He still would not say why.
Y/N woke up late in the night, feeling disoriented. She had fallen asleep at the library, again. Laenor was dozing off in one of the chairs, he was teaching her about the wars at sea. She slowly made her way toward her chambers when she heard a noise. A very distinct noise. A moan. From her sister's chambers. She smirked at first but then stopped in her tracks. Laenor was sleeping. Suddenly. Y/N’s heart started beating erratically, the fear sinking into her soul. Without giving it much thought, she pushed open the door and at that moment she just wished she had not.
Her husband and her sister were together, naked, on her bed. They still had not noticed her presence, too wrapped up in what they were doing. Y/N turned around and closed the door, quietly heading to her chambers.
When the door was closed, she sobbed. It all made sense now. Harwin’s devotion to Rhaenyra, the affection he had towards her sons. Y/N always thought the boys had dark-colored hair because it came from their grandmother's side since Princess Rhaenys’ mother was a Baratheon. She felt like a fool for not noticing it sooner. All the snide comments made by the Queen and Criston were too obvious. 
Aethan slept peacefully in his cradle. Y/N sat on the bed beside him, staring at the ground. Waiting for Harwin. Just mere hours later, the door opened.
“My love, why are you awake at this hour?” Harwin asked, his voice faltering from the nervousness that came from seeing her. 
Y/N sat there motionless. “Why are you awake?” She asked back.
Harwin felt a sense of dread wash over him. “I was… talking to the knights outside. It is a new place for them and they still do not know some places around the island.”
“Did you also show them the inside of Rhaenyra's chambers?” Y/N stood up to look at him. Her face looked somber, flushed red with dried tears. “I saw you with her.”
“My love, let me explain-” Harwin began but she cut him off.
“You fathered her three children,” she lamented. “You professed your love for me while you laid with her. You lied, again and again, made promises that you knew were false.”
Harwin’s eyes filled with tears. He reached for her but Y/N flinched and moved away. “Y/N, please.”
“I am returning to Harrenhal with Aethan for the time being, until this farce of a marriage can be annulled.”
“No, you cannot leave,” Harwin begged. “We are not annulling our marriage.”
“You are in no position to say what we can or cannot do,” Y/N reminded him. “I despise you, Harwin Strong. If this is what you wanted, you should have married Rhaenyra in the first place and not me.”
“It meant nothing,” he told her. “You were always in my mind.”
Y/N scoffed. “Nothing? It meant nothing but you gave her three children. One child could be a mistake but three? You played me like a fool for years. Did you even love me?”
“Of course I do, I always have,” Harwin told her. “I have loved you from the moment we met.” Y/N shook her head at this.
“Get out before I make them get you out.”
Harwin did not even know what to say. He knew it was over. Y/N had never believed in second chances. He moved to the side to kiss his son but she blocked his way. He sighed in defeat and left without saying another word.
-
When he returned that morning, his heart stopped. It was empty. Y/N and Aethan were gone. 
She had taken everything that belonged to her, but left everything that Harwin had given her throughout the years. Harwin yelled in rage and sadness before breaking down crying. He was a fool, betraying his amazing wife in the vilest way. 
Rhaenyra went to the chambers to see what was going on. She glanced around, quickly putting the pieces together. “Harwin?” She called out to him but he cried harder. “Come on, let's go.”
“No!” He sobbed. “Leave me alone.”
Rhaenyra also felt guilty for what was happening. She was the one that sought comfort in Harwin’s arms, not bothering to think about how Y/N would feel if she found out. She was selfish and how her sister was suffering because of it.
-
Days later, Y/N and Aethan were in Harrenhal.
They were received with open arms. People fussed over them, making sure they were not hurt after traveling that far. Nobody asked for Harwin. They knew something had happened from the expression she had on her face.
After her belongings were moved into her new bedchamber, Y/N stated she did not want to be disturbed. She wept for hours, the tight feeling in her chest was not going away. All she could think of was all the times Harwin talked to her about this place. The now empty promises about ruling it together and raising their children there.
Y/N settled in bed with Aethan by her side. The long trip and the hours she spent crying had her exhausted. With a kiss and an “I love you”, Y/N fell asleep.
-
A single raven arrived in Dragonstone. It was an urgent message for Harwin Strong. The maester gave him the letter immediately and left him alone to read it. Harwin felt his whole body shutting down at what it said.
Ser Harwin,
I regret to inform you this way. There was a fire in the chamber's tower, we still do not know what caused it. Unfortunately, Princess Y/N and the babe perished from this, as did a dozen knights trying to get to them. I am sending their bodies to King’s Landing with the silent sisters, so they can receive a proper burial based on their traditions.
I am deeply sorry for your loss,
Maester Brennet
Harwin yelled until his voice gave out. Rhaenyra, Laenor, and the children ran to see what was going on. They found him on the ground with a crumpled piece of paper next to him. Jace and Luke stayed by the door, afraid to go to him. Rhaenyra picked up the paper to read what it said.
She gasped, tears immediately flowing out of her eyes. Laenor peeked over his shoulder to read it. He grabbed the kid's hands and pulled them outside to talk to tell them. Rhaenyra sat next to Harwin, clutching onto him while they both cried.
Harwin felt that the guilt was eating him alive. It was his fault, everything was his fault. Y/N left because of him and now she is gone forever. Their beautiful son was gone. Now Harwin had no one. 
//
Taglist:
@my-dark-prince / @Daemonloversblog / @littlemoonash / @mypatrochilles / @beefbaby25 / @sweetybuzz2 / @Fin-never / @asexualaromosafezone / @nerdy4itall / @yelchinweasleylothbrok / @Juless_world / @thatgaytevinter / @kaitieskidmore1 / @chevelledahuman / @rozendiors / @claudiajacobs / @savagemickey03 / @multifandom-loser / @direluvr / @dandycandy75 / @bitchyglitterfox / @rumandtearsflowerisevil / @dkathl / @holysmokesblog / @derzauberermitlilabademantel / @daydreamin1220 / @redpool / @bxdbxtxh15 / @vinceelsner / @watersofmars / @popsycles / @holysmokesblog / @madelineannmolder / @poisxnedmind / @lilithArtAndStuff / @mostclevermiss
625 notes · View notes
q-starhalo · 3 months
Text
q!Bad songs + their lyrics ★-
-`.✎ Ver. 1
─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─
˖◛⁺˖ | Hello and welcome to this list of q!Bad songs (including ones that remind me of Bad and Dapper or other eggs)!! Before we get to the songs, I do want to say that many songs contain triggering content. I have tagged most of them but if there's any I have missed, please do let me know! Other then that, each list will contain 25 songs so the posts won't be long then they already are! If you want to ask me anything about the songs, feel free! Now enjoy :D
─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─
Portrait of a Blank Slate - Lovejoy:
★ "I feel at some point I broke my mind"
★ "How do you all make it look so easy? You open your hearts up so quickly it scares me "
★ "If only you knew just how better things could be"
★ "Another week of action. Another hypoglycemic reaction"
★ "I'm sorry it's all so predictable"
El Muchacho de los Ojos Tristes - Jeanette:
★ "Ni una simple sonrisa, ni un poco de luz en sus ojos profundos" | "Not a single smile, not a bit of light in his deep eyes"
★ "Ni siquiera reflejo de algún pensamiento que alegre su mundo" | "Not even a reflection of some thought that brightens his world"
★ "Hay tristeza en sus ojos" | "There is sadness in his eyes"
★ "El muchacho de los ojos tristes, vive solo y necesita amor. Como el aire, necesita verme. Como el sol, lo necesito yo" | "The guy with sad eyes lives alone and needs love. Like the air, he needs to see me. Like the sun, I need him"
★ "El muchacho de los ojos tristes ha encontrado al fin una razón para hacer que su mirada ría, con mis besos y mi gran amor" | "The guy with sad eyes has finally found a reason to make his eyes smile with my kisses and my great love"
★ "Yo pretendo saber porqué extraña razón hoy sus ojos no ríen. Yo pretendo lograr con ternura y amor ver sus ojos felices" | "I pretend to know the strange reason for why his eyes don't smile today. I intend to achieve with tenderness and love to see his happy eyes" (?)
Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens:
★ "The evil it spread like a fever ahead. It was night when you died, my firefly"
★ "Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?"
★ "And I'm sorry I left but it was for best, though it never felt right"
★ "Shall we look at the moon, my little lon, why do you cry?"
★ "Make most of your life while it is rife, while it is light"
Come Little Children - Kate Covington/Hocus Pocus:
★ "Come little children, I'll take thee away into a land of enchantment"
★ "Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows"
★ "Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way, through all the pain and the sorrows"
★ "Weep not, poor children, for life is this way. Murdering beauty and passions"
★ "Rest now my children, for soon we'll away into the calm and the quiet"
★ "Come little children, the time's come to play, here in my garden of shadows"
Problems - Mother Mother:
★ "You and me, we're not the same. I am a sinner, you are a saint"
★ "When we get to the pearly gates, you'll get the green light. I'll get the old door in the face"
★ "I'm a loser, a disgrace"
★ "I've found love in the strangest place. Tied up and branded, locked in a cage."
★ "You're a beauty- a luminary, in my face"
★ "I got a lot, and not a lot, I got a lot less than a lot // I've got problems, not just the ones that are little"
★ "Some go to baseball, some go debase a face they can't seem to save"
Rises the Moon - Liana Flores:
★ "Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end. Sun digs it's heels to taunt you."
★ "But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same. Rises the moon."
★ "Days fade into a watercolor blur. Memories swim and haunt you."
★ "Oh close your weary eyes. I promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies"
★ "Breathe, breathe, breathe"
★ "Days pull you down just like a sinking ship. Floating is getting harder. But tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile rises the moon"
★ "Days pull you up just like a daffodil. Uprooted from it's garden."
★ "They'll tell you what you owe, but know even so. Rises the moon"
I am the Very Model of a Cartoon Individual - Animaniacs:
★ "I am the very model of a cartoon individual! My animation's comical, unusual and whimsical!"
★ "I'm quite adept at funny gags, comedic theory I have read. From wicked puns and stupid jokes to anvils that drop on your head."
★ "I'm very good at fancy dances, I can even pirouette! Then smack the villain with a fish; I know my cartoon etiquette."
★ "To suit my mood, I can call forth a lot of different sceneries, like outer space and desert scapes and Himalayan eateries."
★ "From this bag here, why, I can pull most anything imaginable."
★ "You see in matters comical, unusual and whimsical, we are the very model of cartoon individuals!"
Burning Pile - Mother Mother:
★ "All I tried to save my face"
★ "All my guts try to spill"
★ "It goes, all my troubles on a burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire then I change my aim, throw my troubles at the pearly gates"
★ "All your woe begones be gone"
★ "Throw my troubles at the world again"
★ "It goes, all my troubles on a burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire then I'll take my turn to burn and burn and burn"
dumb dumb - mazie
★ "Disappointment takes us by surprise"
★ "Even though by now I think we should have realized. Everyone is dumb"
★ "There must be something in the corn flakes, making it hard for us to think straight"
★ "It's waking up inside of the dream; you don't know what to believe"
★ "Maybe that's why disappointment takes us by surprise"
Everything at Once - Lenka:
★ "As sly as a fox"
★ "As fast as a hare"
★ "As sharp as a tooth"
★ "As dark as the night"
★ "As sweet as a song, as right as a wrong"
★ "Strong like a family, strong as I wanna be"
★ "As warm as the sun, as silly as fun"
★ "As scary as the sea"
★ "As hot as fire, cold as ice"
★ "Sweet as sugar and everything nice"
★ "As old as time"
★ "As buzzed as a bee"
★ "As stealth as a tiger"
★ Pure as a melody, pure as I wanna be"
Vibrant Eyes - CG5:
★ "I'm not the one to trust when I've lost everything that I've touched"
★ "Don't tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done. The war's already won, why do we go on?"
★ "Don't tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done, tell them what you've done"
★ "Scared of the memories that make me insane"
★ "I'll cover these vibrant eyes and forget the pain"
★ "Little voice ruining my sanity, evil dreams haunting me. Don't you ever look my way."
★ "Little voice ruining my consciousness, nothing left to reminisce"
★ "All this pain will make me suffocate"
★ "All my thoughts ever strange, free me from the mental cage"
Crucified - Army Of Lovers:
★ "I'm crucified, crucified like my savoir"
★ "Saintlike behavior, a lifetime I prayed"
★ "I'm crucified for the holy dimension"
★ "Godlike ascension, heavens away"
★ "I've seen the deepest darkness and wrestled with Gods"
★ "Where thorns are a teaser, I've played a double jeux"
★ "I cry, I pray, mon Dieu! I cry, I pray, mon Dieu!"
★ "Prophets I've been reading, stories I enjoy been told; before I end my breathing, I travel in the soul"
★ "Adieu, mon Dieu!"
Coffee - Jack Stauber's Microphone:
★ "Do I need it? (Mocha) Am I under control?"
★ "Can I beat it? (Wake up!) If it swallowed me whole?"
★ "(I can make you feel alive) I know, but do I need you to survive?"
★ "I can't believe this happened"
★ "French vanilla, I think I should sit this one out (no, no, no)"
★ "Maybe a cup of self control would be the route. (But it's the flavor, it's the flavor you want!) Maybe so, but it feels better to check than to reflect (Just a sip!)"
Chiquitita (Spanish Version) - ABBA:
! You can look at the English version for translation !
★ "Chiquitita, dime por qué tu dolor hoy te encadena? En tus ojos hay una sombra de gran pena"
★ "No quisiera verte así. Aunque quieras disimularlo"
★ "Si es que tan tristes estas, para que quieres callarlo?"
★ "Chiquitita, sabes muy bien que las penas vienen y van y desaparecen"
★ "Otra vez vas a bailar y seras feliz como flores que florecen"
★ "Chiquitita, no hay que llorar. Las estrellas brillan por ti haya en lo alto"
★ "Quiero verte sonreír para compartir tu alegría, chiquitita"
Normal People Things - Lovejoy:
★ "The background hum for cerebellum"
★ "Oh, what a blessing to meet someone like you, with eyes as dead as mine. It's fine. It's normal people things just to lie here in silence"
★ "Spending days in self-medicating. Lost too much weight, unpleasant aftertaste."
★ "We think the same, play different games"
★ "I'll make it worth the wait"
★ "Yes, it's probably a razor thing but honestly it's harmless and I refuse to let the sensitive skin win"
★ "So, we lie here in silence. Yes, we lie here in silence. This is normal people things just to lie here in silence!"
Welcome Home - Radical Face:
★ "And the days blur into one"
★ "Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass"
★ "Welcome home"
★ "Ships are launching from my chest. Some have names but most do not. If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost"
★ "I've come home"
★ "Now my head's splitting at the seams and I don't know if I can."
Point Of No Return - STARSET:
★ "I am hypnotized as I fantasize, forgetting lies and pain, but I can't go back"
★ "The ashes call my name"
★ "Pouring the fuel, fanning the flames, breaking the habit and melting the chains"
★ "The bridges are burning, the heat's on my face"
★ "Making the past an unreachable place"
★ "There's something sinister about the way it hurts when I watch it burn because I can't go back"
★ "This is the point of no return"
Cradles - Sub Urban:
★ "I live inside my own world of make-believe"
★ "I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach"
★ "Fire's spreading all around my room"
★ "Tape my eyes open to force reality"
★ "Sometimes I can't tell if my body belongs to me"
★ "I wanna taste your content"
★ "Devils hide behind redemption"
★ "Just tripping on daydreams"
★ "Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep"
Murders - Miracle Musical:
★ "He was in the forest looking to see the trees but none were there"
★ "In the light leaves broke above. Then fell down"
★ "Wearying of the hate me, hate me not. Wait, they forgot. Woe, oh, the rot."
★ "Deeper in they crept, oblivious of the bears and darker terrors. Or none were there. How did they dare?"
★ "Shadow of nobody there. Murders of murderers living in fear of it"
★ "All for nothing at all"
No Wind Resistance! - Kinnerent:
★ "I don't know how it ends, I can't see it in the distance"
★ "But can you ever reach the end of a timeless existence?"
★ "Just imagine being human, hating your confusion, denying 'til it's proven, laughing at illusion"
★ "Imagine reducing yourself to your name"
★ "You've suck all your consciousness inside of your brain"
★ "So go ahead and find your meaning with your methamphetamine"
★ "And once you can see that you've trapped all your grace, maybe you'll join me and girl we can race"
★ "Off-beat heartbeats"
★ "I've been here sixty years and I'm still not bored"
★ "And I've found that almost everything is made of cardboard"
★ "And there's absolutely nothing I can't sing with weird cords"
Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People) - Will Wood:
★ "Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn't earned your fate?"
★ "Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis and collapsed and threw away from planet away?"
★ "Everyone's just blood in an ice tray"
★ "A vampire picking flowers out in the sun"
★ "Ooh, could you take a look at me? (It's the norm for animals, it's the norm for chemicals)"
★ "If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same d★mn miles I do"
★ "It doesn't take a killer to murder. It only takes a reason to kill"
★ "The difference twist fate and free will is whether you're singing"
★ "(You could break an angel's fall, and ignore the Devil's call. Still foresaken shoulders fall silent now)
★ "(Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals)"
As It Was - Harry Styles:
★ "Holdin' me back. Gravity's holdin' me back"
★ "In this world, it's just us. You know it's not the same as it was"
★ "Answer the phone. 'Harry, you're no good alone. Why are you sitting at home on the floor? What kind of pills are you on?'"
★ "I don't wanna talk about the way that it was"
★ "As it was"
Saint Bernard - Lincoln:
★ "Hung up pictures of patron saints up on my wall to remind me that I am a fool"
★ "When I am dead, I won't join their ranks 'cause they are both holy and free"
★ "And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up. And until the end, that's how it'll be"
★ "Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to God when I said it, I thought it was true"
★ "There's really just one thing that we have in common. Neither of us will be missed"
SUPERSTAR - CG5:
★ "Isn't your family looking for you?"
★ "We'll uncover every lie, and I promise you'll survive"
★ "Well done, superstar!"
★ "Shine a light, we're fighting the dark"
★ "I'll never ever leave you behind"
★ "Lights are off and your life's in jeopardy"
★ "If I'm undone, put me back together soon"
★ "What's your choice? In the end, I'll always be your friend"
Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths:
★ "You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you, Achilles. It's not much but there's proof"
★ "Redemption lies plainly in truth"
★ "Je vois que beaucoup de gens meurent, parce qu'ils estiment que la vie ne vaut pas la peine d'être vécue. J'en vois d'autres, qui se font paradoxalement tuer pour des idées, pour des illusions, qui let's donnent une raison de vivre (ce, qu'on appelle une raison de vivre est en même temps une eccellente raison de morir)" | "I witness that a lot of people are dying because they consider that life is not worth living. Paradoxically, I witness other people who are being killed for their ideas, their illusions, which give their existence a sense. What we call a reason to live is also an excellent reason to die"
★ "The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken"
★ "Remember the pact of our youth. Where you go, I'm going. So jump and I'm jumping. Since there is no me without you."
★ "Today, of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love"
★ "It's a pointless resistance for you."
★ "Achilles, Achilles, just put down the bottle. Don't listen to what you've consumed. It's chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy"
★ "And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it"
★ "Hear those bells ring deep in the soul, chiming away for a moment"
★ "Les souvenirs d'une patrie perdue, l'espoir d'une terre promise" | "Memories of a lost homeland, the hope for a promised land"
★ "But be real and just jump, you dense motherf★cker (You're worth more, Achilles)"
★ "Be done with this now and jump off the roof (Be done with this now and get off the roof)"
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undertheopensky · 5 months
Text
We Are But Children 2
Whumptober Day 17: “Leave me alone.”
Characters: Legend, Twilight, etc
Trigger warnings: Past violence to a child, panic attacks, deaging
Read on Ao3!
This is set before We Are But Children 1, but is intended to be read afterwards.
No idea what I’m talking about? Read the first instalment here!
-----
Tiny!Legend is thirteen and already impressively cranky. He has also, fortunately, seen enough quest bullshit that multiple iterations of the hero’s spirit and a transdimensional monster hunt only gets an irritated sigh.
The thing that does give him pause is the fact that he’s supposed to be a nineteen-year-old veteran with seven adventures under his belt and a bottomless hoard of enchanted equipment.
He still refuses to wear pants, though.
-----
The wizzrobe didn’t look infected.
Every era’s monsters had differences only thousands of years could explain, so seeing a fiend that was only half-familiar was routine by now. That it was a wizzrobe was annoying. Warriors sometimes got a pinched look about him over those, and their attack patterns and weaknesses varied a lot, so they were often a bit of a wild card, which no one enjoyed.
Twilight had never seen a wizzrobe before all this portal business. On the one hand, he’s had no practice, and on the other, he has no expectations about how they’re supposed to move and fight. He still doesn’t like them much. No matter who they belong to, they’re always throwing magic around, and he doesn’t appreciate being set on fire.
This one at least isn’t throwing fire. It’s mostly just zipping around the battlefield, cackling unsettlingly, and dodging any swords that get too close. Wild takes potshots at it occasionally, but it’s mostly a big, flashy distraction that they all start to ignore.
A mistake, as it turns out.
Twilight almost misses it; he’s occupied with a moblin battering at his shield while he waits for an opening. But from the corner of his eyes there’s a flash of weirdly purple light and he turns just in time to see the wizzrobe’s magic cannon right into Legend’s unprotected back.
Legend doesn’t make a sound. He just crumples.
There’s more than one yell. The wizzrobe vanishes, three of Wild’s arrows finding a simultaneous mark, but the damage is already done. Wind is closest, and already fiercely rebuffing the bokoblins Legend had been fighting, while Warriors and Hyrule race over. Twilight forces himself to focus on the last two moblins - he’s no good to anyone if he gets a spear in the back because he missed one. Sky takes out one from behind and Twilight uses the distraction to cut down the second, and then both of them are racing for the commotion around Legend.
“No! Don’t touch me!”
Twilight’s never heard Legend’s voice sound so high and panicked. He looks so small, cringing away from Hyrule, and Twilight hopes he’s not too badly injured -
He doesn’t just look small. He is small. Too short, with too-thin shoulders, and wide violet eyes set in a child’s too-soft face.
“What the fuck?” Wind blurts out.
“Language,” says Sky, but his heart’s not in it. If he’s anything like Twilight he’s thinking much the same thing.
“S-stay back!” the tiny version of Legend is saying. He scrabbles for his sword, and though several people protest they’re all too slow to stop him drawing it. “D-don’t come any closer!”
“Easy, easy,” Warriors says, holding up his hands to show he’s put his weapon away. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Tiny!Legend scoffs. “Like I’ve never heard that one before.”
Having made it to his feet, he’s slowly edging away from them towards the thicker stand of trees. And Twilight’s struck by the thought that if they lose him now, they may never find him again.
Time must have the same thought. When Tiny!Legend’s sword dips in preparation to run, Time swoops in and scoops him up against his chest.
Legend screams.
He twists and thrashes in Time’s grip, desperately thumping on every part of him he can reach. Even with the armour dulling the blows Time is struggling to keep his balance. The old man drops to one knee, but still maintains a careful hold on Tiny!Legend’s small form.
The boy screams again, thin and wispy, and gasps for air.
He’s so scared he can’t breathe, Twilight realises, like Colin when he wakes from nightmares he won’t talk about. And that - that’s something he knows how to deal with.
“Hey, hey, buddy, you’re gonna be okay.” He sits cross legged in front of the two and grabs Tiny!Legend’s hands. “I need you to breathe with me. I’ll count, and we’ll breathe in, and count and breathe out. All you gotta do is follow it.”
Yanking against him, Tiny!Legend tries to growl, but nothing comes out except a squeaky wheeze. His eyes are big and wet and frightened.
“I know it’s scary but you gotta breathe with me. Breath in, two three four -” Twilight exaggerates his breath, making it loud and whooshing - “and out, two three four -” he relaxes his hold on the boy’s hands just a little.
At first Tiny!Legend doesn’t even try - he’s preoccupied trying to wriggle free of Time’s deceptively gentle grip. Twilight just keeps counting and squeezing, keeping his voice low and calm and steady, and slowly the boy starts calming down. As soon as it’s safe to let him go Time retreats, and the boy relaxes a little further.
“Easy,” Twilight murmurs. “That’s better, now, ain’t it?”
He’s not hyperventilating anymore. Hiccuping with sobs, but no longer panicked, just - scared, and confused.
Tiny!Legend sniffles. “You - you don’t - you don’t look much like a knight.”
“That’s cuz I’m not,” says Twilight. “‘M a rancher.”
Tiny!Legend blinks. “Is that - is that like a farmer?”
“Well, a farmer usually deals in crops, see - plants that you grow t’eat. A rancher like me jest works with animals, and that could be fer food, fibre, or work.”
That gets a little frown, less angry than confused. “But, but my grandparents have a farm, and they have animals too! They have cuccos and goats and sheep.”
“Do they grow plants for food?”
“Yeah. Wheat and corn and tomatoes and pumpkins, sometimes.”
“Then they’re fer sure farmers. A rancher like me only does animals, no crops, but farmers can do both. Make sense?”
“I guess.” Tiny!Legend still looks dubious. “You’re sure you’re not a knight?”
“Very sure,” says Twilight, feeling the beginnings of amusement. “Too much politics for me.”
“Then why are you travelling with knights?” It’s almost accusing.
“Well I don’t actually think most of them are knights, but it’s kind of a stupid story to start with…�� Twilight scratches the back of his neck, playing at sheepishness.
Tiny!Legend leans in. “Wha’d’you mean?”
“Well, my day started out pretty normal. Feed the goats, milk the goats, chase the buck around the yard until he lets me put ointment on his bad foot… then durin’ lunch hour, a dark magic portal just appears in the pasture. Now, portals are bad news. Usually monsters come out of ‘em. I didn’t really want monsters rampaging all over my village an’ botherin’ the goats, so I grabbed all my gear and went through first t’see if I could head ‘em off.”
“That doesn’t sound very smart,” says Tiny!Legend, riveted.
“I’ve done worse,” says Twilight. “But, on the other side o’ this portal, I didn’t find no monsters. All I found was these suckers -” he jabs a thumb at the other Links, who’d dispersed to a semi-polite distance while Tiny!Legend was panicking - “who’d all done the same damn thing as me. So there was a bit o’ arguing about whose fault it was that there were portals appearin’. And then we found monsters. An’ since then, we’ve been trackin’ ‘em down.”
“What kinda monsters? Why did you have to track them?”
“All kindsa monsters. I seen monsters with this lot that I never even knew existed. And we gotta track ‘em because somethin’s wrong with ‘em. They got black blood, an’ it makes ‘em more dangerous. Tougher, and smarter. They been usin’ tactics we never knew they could, an’ it’s too dangerous for normal people to leave ‘em wanderin’ around.”
“That sounds a lot like what knights are supposed to do.” Tiny!Legend flexes the hands Twilight’s still holding; not like he wants to get free, just - thoughtful.
“Back where I come from, knights are pretty useless, so people like me help out where we can.”
Tiny!Legend nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Mm, good. Now.” Twilight tugs gently on Tiny!Legend’s hands, spinning him a little towards Time, who’s been leaning against a tree leafing through his notebook. “I think someone has something he’d like to say to you.” Over Tiny!Legend’s head, he mouths APOLOGISE at Time.
Time looks briefly enlightened before sobering. “I’m sorry I grabbed you. You were about to run off, and there’s more black-blooded monsters in these woods, and you didn’t know about them or where we were. I thought it would be safer for you to stay put, but I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Tiny!Legend screws up his face angrily at Time saying he’d been scared, but doesn’t protest, still eyeing Time’s plate armour with a wary gaze. “Don’t do it again,” he says.
“I’m sure he won’t,” says Twilight. “Now. I’m pretty sure you’ve still got questions, yeah?” Like where they were, and why Legend was here, and how he’d gotten here from wherever he last remembered being.
But even at thirteen, Legend’s already got a shrewd light in his eye.
“…what’s your name?”
“Now that’s another story entirely…”
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Bound in Fire and Blood [Aemond Targaryen x Reader]
Previous chapter || Series masterlist || Other HOTD stories [requests open]
Summary: You are the younger twin sister of Aemond Targaryen and the second youngest child to King Viserys and Queen Alicent. Growing up you were extremely close to your twin brother, practically inseparable and as you continued to grow, you realized your feelings for him were more than just a sibling love….
TRIGGER WARNING: This is a story of incest (obviously, it’s Game of Thrones). It contains strong depictions of sexual content and blood. Please read at your own risk.
Warnings in this chapter: Contains spoilers for episode nine, The Green Council.
Chapter Eighteen: Then the Storm Broke….
Gif doesn’t belong to me 💚
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"My princess."
You groaned a bit feeling someone shake you followed by the soft voice of a handmaiden. You turned a bit in your bed, pulling the covers over you. After the explosive fight between you and your husband the night before, Aemond decided to retire to his own chambers.
"Princess," The handmaiden repeated softly.
"Is it necessary to wake me up so early?" You groaned into your pillow.
"The King is dead, my princess."
You sat up slowly, furrowing your brows at the news. "What?" You asked quietly, feeling the tears stinging your eyes.
The handmaiden frowned while looking down at her hands. "He passed in his sleep."
You covered your mouth with your hand as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You were trying to wrap your head around the news. "I need to go to my husband," You said suddenly, flinging the sheets off of you.
"Princess, you need to get dressed," The handmaiden tried to tell you although you were already out of your chamber doors.
Aemond was tying his tunic when you walked into his chambers. He glanced over at you noticing how disheveled you were. He looked back down with furrowed brows before grabbing his jacket.
"I was already informed about father," He said quietly, buckling his jacket after slipping it on.
You did not hold back your emotions as you wrapped your arms around your husband, Aemond returning your hug tight. He was never one to show such affection, only showing it when the two of you were alone.
"It will be all right, my love," He whispered in your ear before kissing the side of your head.
You squeezed your eyes shut, nuzzling into his chest. As you felt his body warmth calming you, you forgot about the fight you had with him the night before. You must remember that he was still your husband and he would be with you in the hardest of times, even if you were not on the best of terms.
Aemond stroked your silver hair back lightly after kissing your head once more. He looked into your matching eyes, wiping away your tears.
"Come, let us get you dressed then go find mother."
You were wearing a tunic and breeches with your blue sapphire cloak to conceal your silver hair. Aemond held you close to him, his fingers dancing against the side of your belly. He did not want you to help come look for Aegon due to your condition, yet you were stubborn.
You glanced around the streets of Fleabottom, a frown tugging at your lips. You always believed the common people deserved better, especially the children. You had a bleeding heart for them, children being a blessing in this world.
“This is ridiculous,” Aemond scoffed after a moment, continuing to rub your side as you made your way through narrow paths.
“Do you mean your disguise, my dear husband?” You asked softly. “Because I do not believe there are many other Targaryens with one eye,” You teased, Ser Criston hiding an amused smirk as he walked on the other side of Aemond. Let’s just say Aemond’s complaining while wandering through Fleabottom was getting to him.
Aemond narrowed his eye a bit at you. He never enjoyed your tongue used in such a way, although he could never be too mad. He had a similar tongue to you. He pulled you closer to him, not saying anything.
“Why are we going this way?” You asked, confused as Aemond led the way towards a brothel.
Aemond blew out a breath. “Aegon took me to the street of silk on our thirteenth name day,” He replied not even looking at you knowing your face was turning red. “It was his duty as my brother, he said to ensure I was as educated as he was.”
You clenched your jaw as Aemond grabbed onto the door handle of the brothel. “At least that’s what I understood him to mean,” He said looking over at Criston while knocking on the door.
“I don’t follow,” Criston said with furrowed brows.
“He said, time to get it wet.”
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
You stood beside your brother-husband, having obtained Aegon being a struggle. You glanced up at Aemond whose cheek was still a bit red, having slapped him after the whore house. Although it was six years ago, it still made you furious that he had been with another woman.
Your head turned towards Helaena and held her hand gently, smiling when she looked up at you. “You know everything will be all right, sweet sister,” You said softly.
Helaena looked over you, nodding a bit with a sad smile. She squeezed your hand lightly but stayed silent as the common folk was pushed into the Sept.
You kept a hold of your elder sister’s hand, the two of you waiting a bit nervously for Aegon and your mother to come. The two of you were even wearing similar colored dresses, yours only being a darker blue. She had always been your comfort when you needed it most and it seemed as though she needed comfort now more than ever.
Your breath caught in your throat watching as the conqueror’s crown was placed upon Aegon’s head. You frowned at your elder sister, noticing her not even looking at her husband. You rubbed her knuckles lightly letting her know everything would be okay.
As the crowd cheered for King Aegon, second of his name everyone seemed to be distracted while the ground rumbled and suddenly the wall burst open. You stared up in horror at the Queen who never was atop her dragon known as the Red Queen Meleys.
Aemond pushed you and Helaena behind him, as though he could protect you from dragon fire. You winced at the loud dragon roar before Rhaenys made her exit, more than likely returning to her false queen.
With Aegon the elder’s coronation, it was a declaration of war and it was only a matter of time before it began. It was unclear which side were to be the one to start the dance of the dragons.
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