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#i have spent so much of my life just wanting what i feel for other people to be reciprocated
flowerandblood · 2 days
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The Fall from the Heavens (25)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.
You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.
You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.
He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.
How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.
He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.
This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.
He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.
They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.
No, he thought.
He was no longer a small child.
He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.
He could not allow himself to be weak now.
He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.
The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.
What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?
What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?
Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.
How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?
To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?
He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.
As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.
"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.
His heart pounded harder.
You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.
"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.
"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.
"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.
"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.
Fuck.
He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.
What had that whore said to her?
"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.
His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.
"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.
That we should not return to Harrenhal.
That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.
She warned her.
Why?
He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.
The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.
That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.
He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.
She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.
"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.
That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.
He thought she would loathe him forever.
He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.
"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.
"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.
His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.
"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"
She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.
You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.
She was right.
She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.
It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.
It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.
He was the one who made her try to take her own life.
He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.
And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.
For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.
Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.
To his Rheanys.
He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.
He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.
"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.
He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.
"One more time."
He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.
You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me.
But he wanted her.
He wanted his childhood friend.
His lover, his companion, his joy.
She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.
"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."
He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.
"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.
He was completely helpless against her.
"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.
"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.
"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.
He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.
This, however, did not happen.
The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.
His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.
He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.
He said nothing.
As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.
"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.
"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.
He decided that he would trust her.
His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.
"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.
He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.
Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.
"Mother?"
"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.
He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.
Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.
"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.
"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.
"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.
"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.
What?
"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.
Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.
"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"
He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.
She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.
"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."
He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.
How could he ever doubt her?
Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.
"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.
"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.
He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.
That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.
"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.
However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."
An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.
His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.
"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.
Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."
He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.
I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.
She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.
He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.
No, he thought.
She was no longer her daughter.
She was no longer a bastard.
She was his wife.
When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.
Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.
The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.
He nodded his head.
His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.
She had agreed.
Gods, she agreed.
"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.
"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.
No.
None of them could stay here.
He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.
"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."
His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.
"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.
"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."
Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.
His wife was right.
He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.
He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.
"Well…I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.
He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.
He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.
His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.
He hadn't betrayed her.
He would never betray her.
So why did he feel so guilty?
"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.
"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.
He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.
She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.
He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.
He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.
So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.
He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.
He felt shame filling him.
As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.
"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.
"Me too." He heard her whisper.
After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.
He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.
He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.
Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.
Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.
Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.
None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.
They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.
She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.
His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.
He accepted her words with relief.
As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.
He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.
"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.
A sign of how long she had not been here.
His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.
"− yes −"
He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.
He thought he was touched.
"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.
She couldn't believe she was home again.
He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.
He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.
"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"
He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.
"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.
"Let's go to bed."
He wasn't going to fight her.
He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.
His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.
He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.
He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
When the moon rises
over the dark sky
When you hear from afar
my bitter cry
Know that I long
Know that I long
Know that I long
When the sun rises
over the bright sky
When you hear from afar
my joyful cry
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
And then sleep fell over him.
His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.
"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.
It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.
"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.
Green irises, luscious as grass.
"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.
He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
What had he done?
"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.
Disgust.
"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.
He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.
When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.
"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.
"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.
"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.
"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.
He was the reason for this.
He had done this to her.
"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.
As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.
He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.
His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.
"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"
He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.
"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.
"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.
For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.
It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.
That all was not yet lost.
He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.
"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"
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teyvathandymenclub · 22 hours
Text
Good Morning
Story: You have just spent your first night together and the obvious nervousness comes in with a bang. Will he like me without makeup? I need to keep mints close to me to hide my morning dragon breath. Should I put on some mascara at least? 
Characters: Diluc, Alhaitham
TW: Beware! Fluff.
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Diluc
You have promised yourself that you will wake up before him. And somehow you did. When you opened your eyes, the sun was still pretty low and the room was filled with Diluc´s deep calm breathing. Slowly raising your head you checked his chest. You have been sleeping on him the whole night so the possibility of you salivating on him was pretty high. 
It is fine. Thank god. You sigh with relief.
For a second you got stuck because you could not stop staring at him. He looks so peaceful, but authoritative at the same time. Diluc has this aura of confidence and stoicism that you have never seen in other men. He could have every woman in the Teyvat but he chose you. Your heart flutters. 
I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will do everything to prove to you that I am worthy of you. 
With that, you stood up and tip-toed out of the bedroom.
"Are you trying to run away from me?" 
Diluc´s voice stopped you right when you were about to reach the doorknob. Heart in your chest started racing and all you could hear was your blood rushing through your veins.
"If I disappointed you somehow last night, you can tell me straight away."
"No!" You almost screamed too ashamed to look at him.
"Then where are you going? I was excited to wake up to you sleeping in my arms."
"Me too! I just need to… Use the toilet. If that is ok."
"Of Course, it is ok." Diluc chuckled with relief as he stood up. "I will show you the way."
"No! Umm… I will find it by myself."
"Y/N, what is going on?" He frowned. "Why you did not look at me once."
You wanted to protest even more, but before you were able to find new excuses, Diluc took your chin and raised your head so he could look you directly in the eyes.
After a short moment, you cracked under his gaze, just like last night.
"I did not want you to see me like this." You finally admit.
"Like what?" Diluc looked at you and scanned you from head to toe.
"No makeup, messy hair, puffy face…"
"Stop it, please." Diluc hushed you with a voice filled with amusement and disappointment at the same time.
"I am sorry." You whisper.
"For what? That I did not show you my affection the same way I feel it here?" He took your hand and placed it on the bare skin of his chest. "Can you forgive me for leaving room for so many doubts? My dear, I have traveled most of our world and I have never met someone like you. Do not ever doubt my affection for you. For any version of you. With messy hair, with whatever makeup you do not wear. I do not care. "
"But…"
You tried to protest, but he immediately stopped you with raised brows that said more than enough.
"With that settled, how did you sleep?" Diluc smiled as he hid you in his embrace.
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Alhaitham
Last night was everything but what you have expected from a man who presented himself the way he did. Where did those passionate touches and kisses come from?
Never even in your wildest dreams, you dreamed about being smothered with so much affection. Even though you did not want to admit it, you felt addicted. Men are usually a source of disappointment in your life. How could you score an intelligent gentleman with ways that can make your toes curl from… Well, let's call it happiness.
It would be such a shame to scare him away with my morning state. I should freshen up a little. 
You debated with yourself a little before you took your chance. As you carefully moved away his hand wrapped around your waist and tried to stand up, Alhaitham deeply growled. His grip around your body tightened. Who would have thought that he would be into spooning so much?
"What is so funny?" He asked after you chuckled a little.
"Just wondering if I could be the big spoon now."
"No." Alhaitham murmured into your neck without hesitation.
"Can I at least go to the bathroom? Pretty please?"
"So you would let me here with nothing but your scent stuck to my skin?"
"Awwwww." You smiled. "But... Do you want me to pee here?"
"You are free to go wherever you want!" Alhaitham said while dramatically pushing you away from him. 
After you gave him your best fake sad stare you quickly left to deal with some important business in the bathroom. When you finally came back, Alhaitham was already sitting in the bed leaning against the headboard reading something.
"And I thought that I had bad bed hair." You laugh.
"You probably had. You have been gone for almost half an hour."
"You did not!" You audibly gasped before you jumped at him.
"Why… Oh god…" Alhaitham growled as he maneuvered you down from him. "...do you have so much energy this early in the morning? If I knew I would never invite you over."
"REALLY?!" You froze.
"Of Course not." He smiled sheepishly as he pinned you down to kiss you oh so sweetly.
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ramp-it-up · 3 days
Text
II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait 
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much? 
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now? 
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you. 
And he wanted to make it up to you. 
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier. 
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 
He kissed your hand again. 
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now. 
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
Hit reblog if you like it!
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multifandomlover01 · 13 hours
Text
Not Some Innocent Kid
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Based on @reidswhore post about “innocent” Spencer vs. not so innocent Spencer and fic semi-requested by @reiderrambles
Warnings: 18+ MDNI fairly neutral dynamic but sub!reader and soft!dom Spencer if you wanted to label it, Derek talking about his “conquests”, teasing Spencer about being inexperienced, loss of virginity mention, mention of reader “not being a screamer”, orgasm denial mentioned, overstimulating mentioned, neck nibbling/kissing, orgasm denial depicted, reader screaming, condom mentioned, no birth control mentioned, affectionate sex, lots of terms of endearment used, slightly insecure Spencer, praise kink, slightly OOC Derek, slightly OOC Spencer
Summary: While Derek is talking about a woman he recently slept with, he makes a comment about her and then about Spencer (and his inexperience with women and pleasure), causing Spencer to get lost in a daydream that directly contradicted what Derek just said (Spencer is very capable of bringing a woman pleasure)
WC: ~1.2k
Disclaimer: not the most polished or finished it could be but…here we are lol screw dialogue tags…who needs them? (Me…I need them)
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Gif not necessarily indicative of timeline placement…but it’s an estimate
Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up, Derek.
Spencer thought this but couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. Derek was going on and on about how great he was in bed and took every opportunity to tease Spencer about how virginal he seemed. But Spencer was far from a virgin. Not long after he’d turned 24, he’d lost his virginity to his equally as quiet and reserved team member. No one would have suspected, least of all the two of them, that the dam would break that night for them and they’d be insatiable for each other.
They couldn’t stop. Every private moment was spent together mostly naked with their hands and lips all over each other.
“Yeah, I had her screaming my name. Bet you don’t know what that’s like, do you, kid? Well…your time will come.” Derek teased him.
Spencer suppressed a smirk as he thought of the most recent intimate encounter with his friend with benefits…or lover…or partner (he wasn’t quite sure what they were if he was being honest).
-
“You like that, baby? You like it when I don’t show you mercy? When I use you like a little toy?” Spencer husked into your ear as his hips snapped into you from behind as he had you on your hands and knees on the bed while he supported you with an arm around your middle and his hand on your hip. He had found sexual encounters with you to be rather liberating. You trusted him completely and he cared about you a lot. He’d never hurt you. But this dynamic really allowed him to exercise a degree of control over and with another person that he didn’t really have anywhere else in his life. The degree of control he had over his mother was not voluntary although he took that just as seriously as he took this.
“Y-yes.” You whimpered.
“Say my name, sweetheart. I wanna hear you say it.” The hand on your hip snaked around to rub at your already sensitive clit.
“S-Spencer.” You say breathily.
He gives your clit a little slap.
“Louder, hon. Let me get my first noise complaint from old Mrs. Davis across the hall. She’s always going on about how respectful and quiet I am. Just like Derek goes on about how much of a kid I still am. I’m sick of it. Aren’t I good enough, darling? Can’t I make you scream and cum for me?”
He rubs your clit faster as he snaps his hips faster.
“I dunno…I’m not-“
“A screamer. I know, angel. But maybe we can change that, huh? I’ve made you cum before. I’ll do it again. I’ll do it better. I’ll make you feel so good.” Despite him being slightly dominant right now, he was almost pleading with you to meet him half way.
“I-I’ll try.”
“I know you will, sweetie, I know you will. You’re so good for me.” He buries his face in your neck to press kisses to it, hoping to add to the sensations you were feeling.
He picks up the pace of his hips and his fingers, rubbing your clit in circles.
“I wanna try something, honey. Will you let me try something?” He murmurs against your ear, having kissed his way up to it..
“Y-yeah…what do you wanna try?”
“Can I deny you your orgasm? Can you be my good girl and cum when I tell you to? Not before? Maybe that’ll make it feel better. I know it’s different for every woman but I’ve read that it can make it feel better.” He says, again seeming a bit desperate now, willing to do anything to enhance this experience for himself and for his partner.
“I…I can try. You can try to overstimulate me if you’d like.” You offered, also trying to pitch ideas that could help the experience.
“One thing at a time, love. One thing at a time.”
“Ok…One thing…orgasm denial.”
“One thing…orgasm denial.” He agrees. “If that doesn’t work…then we can try overstimulation.”
“Ok…that sounds good.”
“Yeah? Good.”
Once you two were in agreement, effort was put back into achieving pleasure. Spencer continued to snap his hips against yours (for a skinny guy who didn’t work out, he sure had a good amount of stamina). His fingers continued to work at your clit. Your warm and soft walls suck his cock in like it’s afraid to let it leave the sanctuary.
“Remember, love, you’re not allowed to cum until I say you can. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” He rasps in your ear.
“Y-yeah…I can do that. I can try.”
“Good girl. Tell me when you’re close so I can delay it just a bit. It won’t be long, I promise.”
With the way his cock is hitting just the right spot inside you, the way his fingers are working your clit, and the way he’s nibbling your neck lightly all combine to help you get close to the edge.
“Spence…I-I’m close, baby.” You pant lightly.
“Hmm…yeah? Don’t cum yet, ok?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Ok…I won’t. I won’t until you tell me to.”
“That’s my good girl. It won’t be too torturous, I promise.” He increases the pace of his fingers on your clit and his thrusts are deep and calculated but not feral. They are a nice even pace that’s not too overwhelmingly fast.
Your whines and whimpers increase as your legs shake. “S-Spencer…I…I can’t…”
“You can. You will, love. You can do it. I believe in you. Just a little longer, ok? Not too much longer.” He lovingly rubs his nose against your neck as he picks up his thrust pace just a bit, going just as deep as he continues to rub your clit at an increased pace.
“Spence…please.” Your voice raises in pitch.
“Few more seconds, hon. Just a few more seconds.”
You could almost cry with how much pleasure you’re feeling.
“Sp-“ you go to say again, your voice slightly increasing in volume.
“Now.” He commands.
Your body obeys him without you having to do anything. It just…lets go.
“Oh my god, Spencer, fuck!” You shout, a lot louder than intended. You cling to him as you shake.
“That’s what I’m doing, sweetness.” You can’t see his smirk but you can feel it against your neck as he continues to work you through your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before he’s emptying his load into the condom. He pants against your neck as he peppers it with kisses.
“Do you know…what you…just did for me, darling?” He slowly pulls out of you.
“Screamed louder than I should’ve?” You chuckle softly.
“Besides that.”
“Besides that?”
“Mhm…besides that.”
“N-no…what?”
“Look at the condom, hon.”
“‘M too…tired.”
He chuckles. “It’s soaked, love. I think you squirted over it a bit.”
“Wha-? Really?”
“Mhm. You did such a great job for me, love.”
-
“Kid…hey, Reid!” Derek waves in front of Spencer’s face.
“You still with us? You looked a little spaced out.” JJ states, chuckling slightly.
“I’m fine. I just zoned out after Morgan related his fifth conquest in a week to us.”
“Do you have something you’d like to talk about, then?” Derek scoffs.
“No.” Spencer says simply, shaking his head.
“You will one day, kid. You will one day.”
“‘M not a kid.” Spencer mutters. You and he share a quick glance and a small smirk.
“Oh? You’re not? You got any spicy stories to tell?”
“Maybe one day…when I think you can handle it.”
“Ooh…ok, ok.”
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wesawbears · 2 days
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Sunshine Court broke something in my brain, so here's some protective Jean because my boy is not gonna tolerate whatever is going on with Jeremy's family.
Tagging @bienmoreau @faintlyglow and @betterbekind
--
Jeremy's hands shake as he's getting ready for dinner with his family.
Jean doesn't mean to notice, perched as he is on the bed, watching the other man straightening his shirt in front of the dresser. Jeremy's very good at hiding it, with his easy smiles and easier deflections. By now, he knows it's an open secret that Jeremy avoids his family as best he can, and that Cat and Laila allow him his choice.
But Jean has spent his whole life reading into the slant of someone's posture to survive, and he knows the tremor in Jeremy's hands as if it was his own.
“You're afraid,” he says, the words arriving unbidden. But it's such a shock to see him like this– the man who stood in front of Jean at the darkest points of his life and refused to look away, cowed by the people who were supposed to love him. 
This was Jean's friend, his partner, and he was feeling unsafe.
Jeremy jumps at the sound, either lost in his own thoughts or used to the quietness of Jean for the last few minutes. “What?”
Jean weighs what he wants to say. He knows he's had his fair share of truths he's asked to keep to himself, and that Jeremy has never pushed when it mattered. But he also thinks about “for now”, and how hard truths can only be avoided for so long. “Is it your parents?”
Jeremy's eyes widen, a nervous fidget in the set of his hands. If he wants to lie, Jean's already decided to allow it. But Jeremy finally says a quiet, “Yes and no.”
Jean nods. “Do they- are you safe?” He doesn't think he's seen bruises, and he remembers the horror in Jeremy's voice as he told Jean that his parents should have protected him. But maybe he was projecting?
Jeremy's shoulders deflate. “Jean, no. It's nothing like that. I promise, they've never laid a hand on me.” He smiles, a crooked thing that has Jean following the curve of his lips. 
Still, Jean knows the way he's curled into himself, the way he's glancing at his phone as though it's about to jump at him. “But it's something.”
“It's just dinner. I can handle it. I know how to play the game and get out of there.” It's a perfectly neutral answer, but it's also more than he's said in months about what waits for him when he disappears to his family's home. Despite his living there most of the year, Jean refuses to call it Jeremy's home. His home is here, cleaning up with Laila and arguing with Cat, and where Jean can see him when his nightmares rattle him awake to count the rise and fall of Jeremy's breath from the next bed over.
“Do you want company?” It's a strange request, and Jean knows it as he says it. Jean still hates being around people, and speaking to a bunch of strangers even Jeremy is nervous around makes his stomach swim. But this is his partner, and if he needs him, he can be there for him. It is only fair.
Jeremy's face becomes unbearably gentle and Jean isn't ready to read into the fondness he sees there. “I will be okay. Like I said, I know how to do this.”
One part of Jean knows he should leave it at that. But the other part has cataloged the heaviness in Jeremy's countenance when he returns home– the rehearsed smile, the way he goes to bed early. The part that wins says, “I will walk home with you. When dinner is over.”
“You don't have to do that-”
“I want to,” he says, and he finds that he means it. The idea of Jeremy walking home by himself after spending an hour alone in a room of people is too much to bear. “Text me the address and I will be there.” He wanted to visit the grocery store anyway– he could do that while he waited. Cat would be happy to see the spice cabinet restocked.
“Alright,” Jeremy says, swallowing whatever protest sat on his lips. “Yeah, I'll- I'll text you.”
Jean nods, letting the matter drop while Jeremy finishes getting ready in amicable silence. When he leaves, it's with a nod that Jean recognizes, of someone who is resigning themselves to the inevitable. 
He doesn't know how to keep him from hurting, but he is at least well versed in the aftermath.
Jean arrives at the intended address at the appointed time, not wanting to be there too early and seem suspicious. Jeremy is not forthcoming about his familial circumstances, but he knows there is money involved, and in Jean's experience, outsiders were not tolerated. 
True to his word, Jeremy emerges after only a minute or two and his face lights up in a way that makes Jean's stomach twist when he spots him. He hurries toward Jean, and immediately begins walking once they reach each other.
It's easy to keep pace with him, but as Jeremy is about to breach the silence, a voice behind them brings him up short. 
“I thought you knew better than to bring people like that to the house?”
Jean bristles at the implication, but he's more concerned with the way Jeremy stills at his side. When Jeremy doesn't reply, Jean tries to ignore it as well and continue forward, but the voice continues.
“Flaunting it in front of us like you don't even care what you did to the family? You deserve whatever happens, you-”
“You will not speak to him that way.”
Jeremy draws back in surprise, but Jean keeps his expression cool as he turns to face Jeremy's brother.
“What did you say to me?”
Jean glances at Jeremy, sure he's crossing a line but unable to stop himself. “I said, you will not speak to him like that.”
A snort. “He's my brother. I can say whatever I like. Besides, how exactly are you going to stop me?”
“Jean,” Jeremy's voice is small beside him and Jean does not rise to the bait. 
He fixes the unfamiliar man with a cool glance. “Nothing. I know a great deal of small men exactly like you, and they always seem to get what they deserve in the end. I do not need to do anything to stop you. But no one has to listen to you either.”
With one last flat look, he walks, Jeremy matching his purposeful strides. As the silence grew longer between them, Jean wonders if he read this wrong, if Jeremy had not wanted him to say anything. Had he crossed a line? Had he made Jeremy feel unsafe?
“Thank you.”
Jean turns to look at him in surprise. “I did not mean to force you to face them before you were ready-”
“I'm not ready,” Jeremy admits. “And yeah, things will probably be pretty tense next time.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But- it means something to me that you were there. I– it made it easier, knowing you were there.”
Jean nods slowly, not trusting himself to be able to say anything. He had said it not because of anything owed between them, but because he could not bear to see Jeremy's light dimmed by those who were supposed to cherish him.
At last, he finds his voice to say, “I will not let you leave me behind.”
The smile Jeremy sends is a little tired, but it's also slow and soft and the first real one he's seen all night, so Jean counts it as a win.
Rainbows. Open roads. Friends. Jeremy's smile.
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prettygirlstothefloor · 22 hours
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a messy review of TTPD
okay i need to preface this that i have the credentials to be able to speak my mind on her. i've been a fan since 2006. i've been a fan since i was 11 so don't get your panties in a bunch.
i think this album is messy. the production is the only thing i can really praise about it. the lead up to it and now the full release has just been so unbelievably messy. i'm going to make a continue reading for the people who still have yet to listen where i won't spoil it for you. PS. i do get mean in this. so if you're not wanting to hear critiques and criticism and taking that in, please scroll.
SPOILERS AHEAD
i am fully aware she is allowed to go through the grieving process of her breakup with joe. i respect that whole heartedly. i completely understand having someone in your life for such a big chunk and for them to be gone and feeling lost and alone and angry. what i don't like at all is essentially telling us in this album that she couldn't handle joe having severe depression. obviously i don't know everything that went down but it seems as though he didn't want to get married until he felt mentally better. and as someone who is also in the same boat as him, i also wouldn't want to fully commit to marriage until i felt like i could give them 100%. and if that's his biggest crime, being too depressed, then that's a her problem. being depressed is not all "haha relatable".
now onto... that man... i did not expect 90% of this album to be about him. i've only hated two people in my life. one being a family member of mine. the other, him (i will not be saying his name because he does not deserve it). the way she spent so much of this album talking about how she will defend him with her life. girl i am begging you to get up off the ground. it felt like a backstab from her in "but daddy, i love him" where she's basically saying fuck everyone for ruining a relationship i wanted. the reason no one wanted her with him is because he's a racist, misogynistic, homophobic asshole. i am aware he supports queer rights but it seems like he only cares about queer rights and the safety of queer people when it involves white queer people (ie. what happened in dubai and malaysia). i'm almost confident she cheated on joe with him while her and joe were still together. i'm sorry to taylor that i care about BIPOC and queer people's rights than making a racist white man happy.
joe truly got the short end of the stick here. he has been treated so horribly this past year by swifties who made up rumors about him just to make taylor seem like the good guy and the only thing this album told me was she was the villain in all of this. i hope joe has a good support system around him and i hope he's able to get any mental health help he needs. i do also think that taylor desperately needs a therapist as well. she is very adament about not having one and just using her mom and her friends but she needs an outside source to really listen and give her advice that isn't "yes man"-ing her all day long.
anyways, like i said at the beginning of this post, i enjoyed the production. my favorite songs were fortnight and who's afraid of little old me. it's gonna take time for me to enjoy this album outside of its messiness. i did enjoy midnights btw. so it's definitely not the sound i don't like it's just everything surrounding it.
70/100
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ratgrinders · 24 hours
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hello tumblr user ratgrinders... appreciate the work you do even in these trying times (post onscreen homicide). i think the fact that kipperlilly is like, annoying and reminds people of girls they didnt like in high school ppl miss out on a lot of interesting stuff going on w her!
like, the "power hungry teen girl who is just evil and tbk kill her" thing has already been done in fhfy with penelope, & its much more interesting to think about how & why the ratgrinders are doing all this suspicious stuff tbk are noticing-- like the fact that they have been very cagey about showing their combat abilities, the weird stuff going on with various deities, and even kipperlilly's stolen therapy files (lol) are very intriguing!! and imo writing that off as assuming they'll be straightforward, incompetent villians (popular assumption due to their lack of friendship, even though it's famously the weakest magic) is far less interesting. like... they got into this situation for a reason and got involved w all this stuff somehow, & i don't think all of this would happen if they were a normal adv party, even a shitty one. how did they get here! why!! thx
thank you so much, its getting hard out here but nothing can stop the rat grinders stan grind!!!!! (<- is coping. im coping)
yeah but fr, kipperlily is FASCINATING to me. i truly believe that she thinks everything she does is justified in service of her larger goal, whatever that may be. yeah, stone cold murder really isn't the fairest thing you can do to your academic rivals, but writing all of that off as "oh she's just always been a jealous hypocrite who never believed in what she was spouting" i think is an inaccurate interpretation of her own motivations. she clearly believes in something.
cuz the thing is, we're still not really sure was kipperlily wants? ("egg on my face for wanting something"). sure, she's trying to run for student body president, but what exact rules is she hoping to implement, and how does that relate to trying to resurrect a rage god? plus, grix attacked ruben because he/his ritual were a direct threat to the existence of the school, which seems counter productive if you're trying to become president of it.
and what cause would kipperlily specifically have to be tied up with a rage god anyway? there's nothing that clearly on the surface ties a little type A halfling rogue to a fiendish god of rage and conquest, hell some of the other members in her party seem like on the surface they would have a closer tie to it (like both of their now dead clerics, mary ann who literally harnesses rage, ruben who is full of teen angst). kipperlily's apparently been filled with rage since freshman year, but why? (is she like riz, who spent his whole life infected with an aspect of the nightmare king and literally grew up with this seed of doubt inside him? did something similar happen to kipperlily?)
ankarna is the goddess of justice and the conviction to act when they see something unfair. no matter what, i think kipperlily truly believes that she's witnessed something unfair. and it feels significant to mention that this last murder is an escalation on the rat grinders' part. the other people who have ended up dead around them (lucy, yolanda, the original hosts of frosty faire) all seemed to have died indirectly as a result of the rage crystals and the uncontrollable rage it inspires. this is the first time we're seen stone cold premeditated murder, done with simply a blade and betrayal.
honestly, this transition seems to mirror what ankarna herself went through, starting off as the goddess of conviction and justice but slowly transitioning to one of conquest and war. brennan said something about ankarna, "yeah its nice to have someone like that on your side who will stand up for you, but you better hope that person is always right". i think what we're seeing now is someone with that same conviction, but with a misguided cause.
kipperlily's crossed a line now and i wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't end up redeemed by the end of the season, but i'm still interested in how she and her party were motivated to do this in the first place, because like you said i don't think a normal adventuring party would've ended up here. it takes a lot to transition to multiple murders!
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thedragonqueen1998 · 2 days
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Today at work i got insanly inspired to write and once i got off work, i immidiently went on my phone to type it out. XD I just finished a 3 hour long writing ses(had a 15 minute food break in the middle). ^^ Probably just gonna forever gonna be a wip thing, but it was fun and i'm kinda proud of it. Despite it being rough in some parts, mostly because i wanted to rush to the 2nd half and i didn't wanna get stuck, i'm happy to share it. ^^
It's a kinda long, so i'm gonna add a Read more line to not fill your dash with text. Also, first time trying formatting out! XD
So, originally this post was just gonna be a "i actually wrote something! Look!" thing, just showing of some work i did, but after writing the reason why i wrote a line a certain way, it went into something very sad and kinda dark, so if you don't wanna read about death, a light mention of suicidal thought and grief... just stop after What even is my life.
Idk why i wrote it, but it took alot of effort and it feels... important to me, i guess. Part of processing and such. So, yeah. Read at your discretion. Thank you for your time. 💜
Ezio had many regrets in his long life. Not being there when his father and brothers were arrested. Of not being there more for his sister and mother. Of not trying to be together with Cristina. Not being able to save her. Or being able to save Uncle Mario and Monteriggioni. But biggest of all, not having spent more time with his family before the execution.
He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted. But unlike so many others, Ezio could take those regrets and change them. Thanks to Desmond.
When he walked into the Library, he thought he might get an answer or two in return for many more. He truly didn't expect that calling out Desmonds name while the Apple bathed the walls in gold would result in it being answered by the being himself.
The being looked like a man, clad in a white light, eminating from a strange device under his right arm. His face looked like an exact replica of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad's face, though his build was closer to his. Broad shoulders hidden underneath a strange hooded white doublet and long legs wearing strange tight fitted pants made from a material he did not recognise. Even the scar was the same as his! Was Ezio made in the image of the one he was the Prophet for? Was Altaïr the herald? All questions Ezio wondered, but not knowing if Desmond was like Minerva or not, he dared not waste any questions if the beings patient was thin.
But first: "Are you Desmond?" He had to know, have it confirmed, even if the being appeared after the name was called.
"Ezio? Is this the Library? Am i seriously bleeding while dying!?" Desmond was looking around at the empty tomb, before his eyes returned upon Ezio.
"Yes, this is Altaïr's library. You are bleeding? I do not see any blood and you are dying!? Is there anything i can do to help you? Please, my lord. Tell me what i need to do to save you." Ezio was desperate to know his purpose and if all his life lead to this moment, where he could save Desmonds life, he would fulfill it.
"There's nothing you can do. I am dying semi willingly and even if this is some Animus infused death hallucination, it is nice having my last moments with you, even if your not really here. I am so sorry i couldn't answer any of your questions or try to save you from losing everything. You never deserved any of it. In the end it didn't really even matter. I am sorry you wasted your time chasing riddles and ghosts." He looked so grieve struck while saying it and the look Desmond had while gazing down onto Ezio could only be described as lovingly.
"What do you mean? Could you have saved my uncle!? My father and brothers!? Why didn't you if you do not think i deserved it! I have served the Brotherhood almost my entire life, sacrificed so much trying to find out what Minerva meant and now your telling me that it was all for nothing!? If you think i wasted my time then give it back!"
Desmonds eye's widen before softly smiling and saying: "Your right, you wasted your time and sacrificed too much for nothing. Let's change that."
Before Ezio knew it, the world went white and he knew nothing more.
—————
When Ezio awoke, it was to a bed he hadn't seen in almost 40 years. His childhood bed and his room. He couldn't believe it. He was given a second chance. To live his life. To right wrongs. To save his family! To think going to the Library would result in this!
At the thought of the Library, Ezio suddenly remembered Sofia. To have forgotten her and even abandoned her without a second thought left Ezio feeling guilty. Would she wait outside the Library before realising he would never come back? Or because he is now in the past, a past where he intends to change the future, would she never meet him? Never exist? The thought of her hurt, but like so many others, Ezio knew that him being in her life would have risked hers. Even if she knew and accepted it, it is still better if she never got the chance to know him and inevitibly suffer because of it. Same with Cristina. Though he could now choose her, he knew that despite the many mistakes in his life, the Brotherhood was not one of them and his refusal to properly let her go killed her. Letting that life affect her once again was too cruel. It was for the better to just let her go.
Federico nudged him with his elbow. "Brother, what has you thinking so hard you look like you bit into something bitter?"
"Nothing much, just wondering what i should get." Ezio smiled and laughed. He was currently out with his family on a trip the market. The last time around, he had decided to sneak off to spend some time with a girl he didn't even remember the name of anymore instead of spending time with his loved ones, to his great shame and regret. This was the last thing his family had done together outside of dinners before the execution in 3 days. That he missed out on it was one of his biggest regrets, but Desmond let him change it.
That Ezio might never truly understand or know what or who Desmond is, how he watched him in the Vault or even what Minerva's people and the Pieces of Eden truly were will forever haunt him, but the trade to see his family again and to even be able to save them is a fair trade. He can go his life wondering these questions and maybe try to find them now that he will have more time, thanks to already knowing the Templars plans and who will be an enemy or ally.
He felt a finger poke him inbetween his eyebrows.
"There you go again Brother. Thinking too hard! Be careful or you might hurt yourself." Federico teased before yelping and then laughing when Ezio pushed him.
"Please don't start fighting now sons." Their father said before turning back to the stall owner to continue discussing what wares to buy and the prices.
"Sorry Father!" Ezio said before giving his brother a teasing look that promised this was not over.
Ezio remembered this day well enough. Not to remember the woman he decided to chase, but enough to know that when his family had been at the market a horse had run wild there and according to Claudia, nearly trampled her down in the confusion.
He was a bit sceptical to believe it was as close as she had made it out to be, but he knew horses much better now than he did before. After years of riding them to and from places in the chase for his targets, he knew that having one running towards you in a blind panic could scare anyone. Even though he knew to be wary of them and treat them with respecy during his original childhood, he didn't truly get how these gentle beings could be as scary as his sister had made the poor creature out to be.
According to his family, it had been a war horse, bloodied, running around in a blind panic, probably scared from a skirmish. Being chased by guards hadn't helped and eventually the guards got a good shot at it and put it down.
Ezio wanted to save his sister years of fearing horses, so he kept an eye and a ear out for any signs that the animal was on it's way.
There. A scream. Everyone stopped and looked around for the source. The source was still hidden by the crowds, but in the distance you could start seeing people moving away from something coming this way and the screams were getting closer.
Ezio breathed and slipped into his Second Sight, the Eagle Vision, as he now knew Altaïr had called it. Or more accuratly, Eagle Sense. With the years, his constant use and need for it had changed his Sight. It had become much stronger, letting him see farther, expanded his hearing, to let him hear his enemies heartbeat and even know what moves they were going to make. Even let him know where his enemies was going to go on a patrol route.
It truly was a gift and now he would use it to try and predict where the animal would go, as to lead his sister and family away from the danger. Then he saw it. The shine of something important. Something that glowed as strongly as the Apple of Eden had. The horse.
There was much about his Gift he could not explain. He had tried, but it is much like explaining sight to a blind person. Why things he didn't even know about could glow gold and lead him to the answer. Why allies glowed blue and enemies red, nor how he could tell friend from foe and now. His Sight told him, with the same intuition as telling friend from foe, that this horse was Desmond.
How is Desmond here? Why? Did he lie about dying? Or was certain death only a large chance that Desmond beat? Ezio supposed it did not matter. If he lets events play as they had before, Desmond would be struck down by an arrow within minutes. Oh, maybe Desmond had tried to prevent his father and brothers demise, but was struck down in the attempt? Though, why choose to do it as a rampaging horse? Either way, Desmond was clearly panicking, almost upon him now. If Ezio could not calm him down, his death was guaranteed.
But how? Ezio has just seconds now to plan a way to stop him before he is trampled down.
Then, he finally realises, that among the bright gold he shines, he also glowes blue. Such a deep colour which he has only seen in the greatest friends or closest family and he knows, Desmond would never harm him. The look of pure love on Desmonds face made more sense now.
So Ezio decides to not move and simple raise up his hands, as if to pet the horse.
"EZIO!"
————
Desmond was in pain. He knew that Juno lied about his death being quick and painless, but god, why did it have to hurt so much!? During his hallucination, it wasn't nearly so bad! And can't forget the weird nightmare he's having ontop of it. He's a goddamned horse on some battlefield. He was rearing up when the nightmare started, neighing as his rider was shot and killed by an arrow.
There's so much blood. The smell strikes fear in his heart. There's so much red. He slips into Eagle Vision and there's even more red. Not a spec of blue. A sword slides against the armor he is wearing and the screech of metal is too much. He bolts.
He needs to run. Away from the monsters with sharp sticks. Away from the smell of blood and death. Away from the shadows hiding hunters. They follow him. They chase him for a long time.
He is getting so tired.
He needs to get back to the barn. His owner would make everything alright. He would croon soft noises he did not understand, but the tone was soft and gentle. He would give him a treat while brushing him down after a hard days work.
He did ride him into scary battles he did not understand, but afterwards he would wash and groom him extra thoroughly, while feeding him the best apples, crooning more sounds in a happy tone. He would repeat one of the few sounds he understood, which meant "him" and "pay attention to me".
Dante.
But he wasn't on his back anymore and he didn't hear his voice. Just the loud, scary noises of more men in the shiny hard thing. They had the pointy sticks too and tried to take the things dangling from his mouth. Only his owner can touch that! Only he is to be trusted with them.
Running is getting harder, there is large, straight hills in the way and the path is narrower with many strangers in it.
There is still so much red. He can still smell the blood, feel it clotting his fur. Too much red!
Blue.
Suddenly there's blue in front of him. He knows blue means ally. Though why and how this person is blue confuses him. But he is Blue and running him over is not good, but why is he standing there!? Does he not see the red!? Smell it!? Does he not understand we need to run!?
"Desmond"
That single word pierces the fog of fear and wild panic that has flooded Desmonds mind. Ezio is in front of him, hand already gripping the reigns while the other rests on his muzzle.
"There we go Desmond, everything is alright."
Desmond still feels phantom threads of fear, but with Ezio's calming blue glow and his voice saying gentle reassurances, it feels far away.
Now with his mind fully human and not driven by horse instincts or memories, the question becomes: How and why the fuck is he a horse in 15th century Italy with Ezio!?
What even is his life.
————
So, a couple parts i'm stupidly happy about is the "He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted." part. This, as you can probably tell was inspired by the famous quote "When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it."
I believe Ezio didn't fully understand liberty until he tried to live a peaceful life with Sofia and realised he would always fear Templars taking revenge on his family and time, because the knowledge that he would never see his children grow up to adults had never been a concern before he met Sofia. He probably thought he wouldn't have a family at all.
But love. Love he would understand what he missed. He would understand it just days after he lost his father and brothers. Those moments you missed out on. Of opportunities to spend time that you squandered away. Time you will never get back, because in real life we don't have time travel.
And now i understand it. Before the end of the last year, i was like Ezio before the loss. Before i lost my grandparents only a few weeks apart.
Those opportunities to spend time was rare and thankfully i took most of them, but i still squandered it away by not actually spending time with them. I just visited and hid away in my room, wasting the time by sitting on the phone.
I will forever regret that because ny memory is shit and besides a few childhood ones, i have no memories of them. I still remember their voices, they were pretty distinct thankfully, but how long until i forget that.
It hurts and as someone who is afraid of death and it's finality, such a reminder that time and love is finite is soulcrushing. It is only recently that i have truly started to think of my grandparents and i guess try to process the fact they are gone forever.
When we first got the news that my grandpa had died, i was even more glued to my phone, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening. I also didn't wanna sleep and only got some when i passed out from exhaustion. We even went to the doctor to get time of work and some sleep medication i didn't dare end up taking.
I even had thoughts of just taking all the pills and just sleeping, to get away from the pain forever. But i'm thankfully too much of a coward, so it just stayed thoughts. I'm doing much better now and as i mentioned, i think i'm starting to process the fact that they are gone.
So, yeah. This post went in a direction i didn't expect. But it feels important and maybe in a few years i can look back at this post and see a snapshot of who i was and reflect on who i am now. So, here's to the future me and anyone else who needs to hear it:
I hope things are going well and if they're not... well, things get better. They always do. You're loved and even if your loved ones are gone, they live on in you. You will carry that love with you, for the rest of your life. 💜
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dunmeshi-darlings · 3 days
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Hey i love your blog thank you for doing these imagines!
Can i request an half dragon beastkin reader x Izutsumi? Maybe they found them chained up somewhere in the dungeon and laios and them set them free?
Of course dear anon, and congratulations on being my first izutsumi focused ask
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The dungeon held many secrets in its labyrinthian halls, Secrets of magic ancient and powerful, Secrets of Shady Deals among less than savory criminals, Secrets of viscious monsters, Secrets of life and death, But some secrets....were much darker than others.
As the group was travelling they heard a strange sound, it sounded like a person in trouble so they followed the sound to its source. It was a iron gate in the ground with a chain on it, around the gate were the bodies of various criminals who seemingly had been killed by an orc raid. As chilchuck and izutsumi listened they heard labored breathing and quickly laios broke open the lock on the chain as they opened the door, there eyes widening at what they saw
A beastkin looked up at them, They had hard reptile scales that covered there body, large clawed hands and feet scraped at the stone floor as a large tail moved behind them, large horns adorning the figures head. You looked up squinting your eyes and covering them, it had been so long since you had seen light.
Izutsumi was the first to notice, large chains were wrapped around your limbs and neck keeping you trapped in place. At first nobody moved, afraid that you were some sort of criminal or were dangerous. Laios asking you why you were down here, you explained that the thugs outside kept you chaine dup down here to show off to other people as a freakshow for coin, normally they would be guarding the gate but you heard them get attacked by orcs and they all must have died. You honestly figured you were going to die in this whole, left to starve to death.
Before anyone could react izutsumi grabbed chilchuck and jumped down into the hole. She put the half-foot down and told him to pick the locks on the chains to get you out now! everyone was surprised at how urgent she sounded, marcille asking what was going on with her. She scowls saying she know what its like to be shown off like a freak and she isnt going to let anyone deal with that.
Everyone agrees and chilchuck picks the locks as you feel the weight of the chains slide off you, you stand up showing just how tall you were compared to everyone else, cracking your neck as you breathed a sigh of joy at your newfound freedom. You tell laios your in there debt and want to help them on there adventure to save his sister, and you join them from then on.
You got along well with everyone in the group, of course laios kept asking you questions about being half dragon but you didnt mind. But it was izutsumi you seemed to be the closest with, She often spent her time being near you. The two of you chatting and talking about being beastkin. Her explaining how it was forced on her when she was a little child and cant remember anything before it. Normally she wouldnt talk about this with anyone...but your different, you get what she has been through, and she feels more comfortable with you than anyone else. You put your hand on her shoulder and comfort her telling her that your sorry she has gone through all this, and that hopefully you guys can find a cure for this curse on her.
You two began to grow closer, She moved from sleeping in the same cot as chilchuck to sleeping with you in your cot. Her commenting how your body is alot warmer than chilchuck and your perfect to lay on top of and fall asleep on. Whenever she falls asleep on top of you, you cant help but put one arm around her and drift off to sleep rather quickly, since she started doing this you have never slept better.
Whenever senshi cooks food she is always sneaking the bits she doesnt like into your portions of food, now having a place to dump the veggies she doesnt like. You are always more than happy to eat them for her, and in return you let her have some of the stuff she does like from your food. you two basically sharing food portions together.
The two of you are incredibly protective of each other, any time the group fights a monster you two are close by each other. Fighting in unison and defeating the monsters that the mad mage sends after you. And when either of you gets hurt, the other one cant relax until whoever got hurt is better. Izutsumi tries to play it off, but her tail will constantly flick as she sits next to you as marcille heals you up.
One night when you two are laying together, Izutsumi is up much later than she usually is. You could tell she was tense about something so you ask her if everything is ok. she hesitates for a moment before speaking up. "yeah it is...its better than ok, thats the problem. Ever since i met you i just...ive never felt like this before you know? ive never really cared about anyone else but myself, after all im the only one thats ever been there for me all my life...but its different with you. I cant stop thinking about you, i worry about you when you get hurt...and i hate not being around you. But it makes my chest feel tight and my head fuzzy when im around you and i keep smiling, im not used to this and i dont know what is going on. Im not used to it and...im scared, ive never felt like this and its so weird to me...i really like it..but it feels so weird i just..." She trails off, her tail flittering as she hides her face in your chest, even through her fur you can feel her blush. "i think i really like you...i really like you alot. But im scared, ive never liked anyone like this before and im scared cause im so used to just being by myself that....that the idea of being with another person all the time and relying on another person scares me, but i really want to be with you, even the idea of depending on another person scares me,but if i dont say anything its going to keep eating me alive.." she said looking up at you, You look at her stunned for a moment. This was unlike her, izutsumi was never one to be open about her emotions. She always did what she wanted and didnt care about what anyone else thought, she was a self reliant woman and other than with you she was never really the friendliest person ever. So to see her being so open with her feelings, being open about her fear and being so vulnerable was something you never expected from her.
You squeeze her tight towards you, your tail wrapping up with hers as as you place a soft kiss on her forehead. you tell her that you feel the same about her. That you love her and the idea of being with her is something you have dreamed of, and that you want nothing more than to always be there for her. You promise her that you will always be there for her and she never has to deal with the world by herself anymore.
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lulublack90 · 24 hours
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Prompt 18 Neighbour AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991
Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood. 
Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays. 
So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted. 
The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots. 
He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.
A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother. 
Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest. 
July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it. 
Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.
It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s. 
“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.
“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution. 
“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”
“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it. 
“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village. 
Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage. 
Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night. 
The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour. 
“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head. 
“I’m all good. Don’t fret.” 
Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind. 
“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!” 
Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before. 
“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.  
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the-fiction-witch · 3 days
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Away P2
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Niece, Viserys Second daughter with Aemma) Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1735
Warning - Suicide Mentions
Part One
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Using the secret tunnels to return Y/n to her chambers as if she never left, she tossed away the common clothes and put on her black silk nightie collapsing on her bed,
Daemon watched her change your clothes He could tell she was holding back tears. He felt bad for his sweetling. He knew she must be lonely at times, and he wasn't with her all the time. He decided not to leave just yet. Daemon approached and sat next to her on the bed. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he looked at her face. His face was soft and he looked genuinely concerned for her loneliness.
"you'll be leaving again soon, and I'll be alone again…"
Daemon saw her frown growing more upset and he decided to pull her closer to him. He held her for a moment, letting her get some comfort. His hand on her shoulder rubbed gently and he put his other hand on her back and held her close to him. "I know, I know. But I will always come back to you my sweetling. The first thing I do when I return to King's Landing, is rush straight to you. And the last thing I do before I leave is visit you again."
she nodded "But then you're gone. I see you off and then I'm alone, my sister doesn't visit, father never asks to see me, and I'm locked in here so much the handle has dust."
Daemon noticed how sad it was for her. ‘She had no one to really talk to or even just enjoy the time you spent with’ he thought. "Can you tell me something though, sweetling?"
"yes?"
"What do you always do when I'm gone? Are you always alone like this? No one to talk to?"
"always. I just read it. Sew. Sleep"
Daemon frowned as you said that. He felt guilty for being away so long. "You should have more people to spend your time with. What about the handmaidens? You don't get along with any of them?"
"they only come when I call for them, then they do what I ask and go. Most don't talk to me even when I try"
Daemon frowned as he heard her answer. He didn't even want to think about how lonely and depressing this experience was for her. "You haven't got a single friend, have you?"
"... No."
The news made him a bit disappointed. A lonely little princess with no friends and a sad life. Her only comfort in this world was her uncle. Daemon was feeling a little guilty for not being here and keeping a closer eye on her. "You can never truly be sad, though. Not when your dear old uncle is here for you. You can always tell me your problems and your sadness and I will be here to comfort you." He smiled at her softly but he could see she was still upset.
"but you're not here... You go off on an adventure to the Stepstones or off with the city watch or off at Dragonstone. I do love when you're here it's... The only time I ever smiled anymore"
That last sentence pained Daemon a lot more, hearing that the only times she smiled were the rare occasions he was around. He felt like he was abandoning a child for leaving her alone for so long. His expression showed his feelings for a split second before he hid it away and continued to comfort her. His voice was kind and compassionate. He spoke with a smile to conceal his guilt. "It's alright... I feel like the only time I feel happy is when I'm holding you. You are my source of happiness, my sweetling."
she nodded and she sat up a moment wiping her tears before she hugged him her arms around his shoulders, she sat in his lap, her head in his chest as she fought the urge to cry
Daemon put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He rubbed her hair and he looked down on her little face which was buried in his chest. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and his hands were rubbing her back. Daemon felt his happiness come back as he embraced you like this.
After a bit, Daemon decided to speak "You know, you are so much smaller than me when you sit in my lap, my sweeting," He said trying to comfort and distract her,
she nodded "When are you leaving?"
Daemon's face slightly fell at the mention of him leaving. But he decided to not let that stop him from comforting her. Even if he was going to leave soon he would make every second count. "Soon, my sweetling. I'm not sure, it will be soon but I will come back. I always do. Even though I know it might leave you feeling sad, I will always return. I promise."
"you'll be gone days? Months? Longer?"
Daemon seemed troubled as he thought about how long he would be leaving for. It was possible it would be longer than the usual. And after what she said, he felt bad about it now as he thought about how lonely she would feel when abandoned for a long amount of time. He didn't know what to say now, and he could see that his answer was also painful to her. "I don't know... Most likely a few days or weeks... Maybe longer than that but I promise you with all my heart that I will return."
she nodded "... I can't promise I'll be here"
Daemon felt a stab in his heart when she said that. He stopped rubbing her back and he stared down at her. He looked at her face as she was trying to hold back her tears and he felt bad that she felt this sad. "Sweetling, you can never do that! I can't lose you, I just can't. Are you telling me the truth? You really plan to leave?"
"... I have thought of it. More than once" she said,
Daemon was shaken to the core by her words. The pain of losing her suddenly hit him and he felt the urge to cry. He held her close to him and spoke softly but urgently. "Sweetling, listen. Please take my words to heart. Never think that again. I would be devastated to lose you. I will do whatever it takes to protect you. Whatever it takes to keep you alive and healthy. I don't want you to ever think of doing that again, okay?"
she nodded clearly still sad,
Daemon was still worried even with her nod. ‘I couldn't let her do this ever. She means too much to me’ the thought. Daemon held her close to him, he didn't care whether she was crying or not, he would keep her close to him to comfort her. "I hope I haven't disappointed you too much with how I have been acting," Daemon said softly, letting her cry against his chest. All his worries and fears were flooding his body and he couldn't hide them. He didn't want to lose her, and he felt like a failure right now.
she shook her head, "Often it feels you're all I have anymore..."
Daemon heard your answer and he was surprised to hear that to be honest. He smiled slightly and he squeezed her tighter as he held her against him. "Then it's my duty to protect you, my sweetling. I will do anything in this life to protect you. From now on I will come to see you as often as I can. Will that make you happier?"
she nodded,
Daemon smiled softly but still looked concerned He still could feel the sadness in her but he decided to try and comfort her by holding her against him and playing with her hair. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt his happiness coming back. He didn't want this moment to end. "Will you promise me something?"
"yes, Daemon?"
"Will you promise me that every time I leave, whenever you have thoughts like those, you will tell me as soon as I return? I need to know if you ever intend to do that again, sweetling. Or If you really do feel alone while I am away."
"I Will I promise"
"Thank you, my sweetling. That is very important to me. And from now on I will try my best to come see you as often as I can. I promise you that. Just please, let me know how you feel and I will always be trying to make you as happy as I can while I am away, and if you really do start to think like that send a raven and I will rush back on craxaes just to see you. okay?"
she nodded and laid herself down on her pillow,
Daemon kept his hand gripped with her and he continued to smile at her he helped to tuck her into her bed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. He could feel the sadness that still lingered in her and he didn't want to go just yet. She was still in need of comfort and love. So he continued to sit there with her and play with her hair.
"May I ask you one more question, my sweetling?"
she nodded
"Are you happy right now, my sweetling?”
"very happy and very content but also sad because I know it will end eventually"
Daemon sighed a little bit when she told him how she felt, it was true and her feelings were valid."I will always come back. No matter what happens, I will come back. I promise you, I will never leave you and I will never be gone for more time than I have to," 
she nodded and slowly closed her eyes, after a while she began to drift off to sleep her grip on him became loose, he smiled and watched her sleep for a while But for some reason he felt a strong urge to stay now. He wanted to stay with her, no matter how long he would be away from her he wanted to spend these last few hours with her, "Daemon?" she spoke up,
"Yes, my sweetling? What is it?"
for a moment she doesn't speak she just looks at him taking in every element of him as if she's trying to ensure her memory of him before she rests a soft hand on his cheek stroking his face before she finally connects her lips with his…
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sbg-loving-pierog · 2 days
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Let's talk about The Hernandez Family!
and why the whole situation with Tyler is actually a good thing to happen.
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(‼️Spoilers for episodes 43-51‼️)
You've been warned...
Starting off with ep. 43 when we see Mariana Hernandez - Taylor and Tyler's mother - for the first time.
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You can see the tension rising when she mentions the twin's father, which at the time is suspicious but since it goes unexplained it doesn't bring much of our attention until
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Back then we couldn't confirm what that means, not until ep. 48 and Tyler's flashbacks. Now we know that the twins' father is dead, so that tells us that their mother doesn't seem to remember about that. To say more, she's CONVINCED that he's still alive because even when the situation points to him not being with them anymore, she still only finds it a bit weird but doesn't seem to remember the truth.
Either she doesn't want to remember it, or it's a part of some kind of medical, mental condition, but something that helps keep up this Delusion is that, as we know, after the death of Ethan Hernandez, Tyler took over his responsibilities.
Mariana never had to take over anything her husband did for the family, she didn't feel the weight that fell on them after his passing. All "thanks" to Tyler.
And for some reason her kids try to keep up this facade with distracting her from thinking about their father before she remembers anything
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And they succeed, bringing them to the point when they are the ones that take care of her, instead of it being the other way around, as it should. She probably still does her share of responsibilities a parent should have (a part she was doing before too, when Ethan was alive) but the other half AND the mental burden is all on Tyler and Taylor.
But something changes in ep. 51
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When Tyler is "injured", her first instinct is to call her husband - and his father - which is understandable, you wouldn't really think logically in a situation like that, but for Mariana, this is when the truth and logic finally hits her
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She reminds herself that she can't call Ethan for help and you can clearly see that she's about to panic
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But then Taylor comes in, and changes her mother's thinking of "I'm on my own, what do I even do?" To "I have others to care for, I'll think about myself later".
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You can almost hear her thoughts saying "You're their mother. Act like it".
This is the moment she realizes that:
1. She can't depend on Ethan anymore
2. Tyler won't always be there to help her
3. She has to be strong for her kids because she should be. Because it's her responsibility that she's been neglecting... or just wasn't able to bring to life for WAY too long
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After Tyler wakes up and the group leaves the hospital, it's said that his mom stayed there with him. I think both the time when Taylor needed her support and the time they spent together with Tyler when she was the one caring for him for a change will normalize their family situation. It will help Mariana realize that Tyler was and is still just a kid, and was never ready to take over his father's "position" in caring for her and Taylor, even if he did it because he had to.
That's what I think anyways, I'm open to discussion though ^^ and well, now as they're separated, their relationship will either freeze for a moment, or change again and hopefully it'll become even stronger after another reunion :)
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shatcey · 1 day
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William is almost perfect
I remember very vaguely (what's the point of remembering something that has already changed) that I was opposed William for a very long time. I didn't like his creepy eyes, I was very scared of his abilities, and of course I didn't like how much the developers were pushing us in his direction. It's Newton's third law in action, I guess.
But when I started reading his route on JP, I was surprised how different he was from what I expected.
And at the end of his route, I cannot say I fell for him, but I really start to respect him as an incredibly strong person with a very strong life philosophy.
But… When I started reading his route on EN… It turned out that I had missed so many details. I didn't understand half of his jokes and his very poetic way of expressing his thoughts. He's like a very strong magnet. Everything he does has a huge impact on me, and I understand why (almost said Belle) Kate fell for him so much.
He is very kind, patient, always listens to what she wants, always gives her what she wants. His voice is strong and soft at the same time, it has flirtatious notes and it's incredibly warm. His laugh is one of a kind… so infectious, honest and bright. I can't remember the last time I heard real laughter in a game. No, that's a lie… Wolfie has a wonderful laugh.
Back to Willy...
I like his design, in fact, all his expressions. I like the way he talks. I like that he touches Kate often, but not in a way that it start to seems oppressive or bothersome. And I really like the moments when he judges… He is so strong and tall, righteous indeed, and so, so hot… like fire… no, even more than that.
But where is the one, no, two things that keep me from falling for him completely.
I have never understood the mass obsession with roses and strawberries. They are quite common and, in my opinion, quite ordinary. But so many people are obsessed with them, as if nothing better had ever existed. I think this is probably the result of good marketing, nothing more. So… as you've probably already guessed, I don't like either one. I can't say I don't like them, I just can't call them my favorites. And Will… he, like most people, likes these two things.
He smells like roses. I can't even imagine that. This smell is very sweet and (perhaps this will sound like sexism) feminine. If he likes it, so be it, I just can't imagine a man who wearing this scent in real life.
Funny… I didn't mind the vanilla from Liam and mint from Harry. They also smell sweet, but somehow more neutral. Hey… I don't remember Ellie's smell… And Alfie… No, I remember Alfie, he smelled of several scents, after all, he spent a lot of time with a lot of people… Does this mean that he has no smell? It reminds me of the Perfumer... No! Gross! Awful thought! Go away!!! Shoo…
Back to Willy...
So… I really like his route. And I feel each Kate's pain as my own, and that makes it quite personal. But no matter how good Will is, roses have always been and will be a turn off to me. I'm sorry, Willy…
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You're not making it easy for me, aren't you?…
Off topic
I still don't have much free time. But I believe this weekend I will finally be able to read Liam's 1st anniversary epilogue. And hopefully there will be something interesting that I want to share with you. If not, I'll come up with something else…
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🔝 Start page 🔝
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itsalwaysforyou · 9 months
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jafar raised jay to be slippery and selfish but jay knew there was strength in numbers and decided to trust and love and hope despite everything else. and he protects these people that he finds, the only things his father can’t take from him, his own treasure he guards like the lion’s head at the cave of wonders.
he’s the last one out, there to watch their backs, as close to them all as their own shadows. he’s their third eye, always hyper-vigilant, always on the look out. he knows when to start a fight, and when it’s best to leave it alone. it’s nearly always best to leave it alone. he wrangles them all back in, keeping them safe so they don’t have to worry about injuries or repercussions or consequences. his job is to keep them safe, and keep them alive.
and yet, in auradon, with no brawls or street fights or leering parents or turf wars or rivals or enemies, what is there to protect them from? passive aggressive comments? pastels? afternoon tea? what is a guard dog with nothing to guard? jay has built his entire life, his entire self, around servitude. if it’s not his father, it’s his gang, always the helping hand and the shoulder to cry on (metaphorically, of course) and the reassuring presence. without any of that, he is nothing.
he is the thief that gives. the boy desperate to hold on to his only sense of purpose. it’s all he knows: give enough away and they might let you stick around. chameleonic, knowing exactly who to be where and when. the charmer, the heartthrob, the villain, the protector, the liar, the snake, the attacker. anything you need. he can be anything at all, as effortless as breathing.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 20 days
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...
#sorry im thinking abt death again#because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died#that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from#time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed#i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she#died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way#my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today#for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days#and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt#future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her#last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that#and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving.#sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless#others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club#i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her#stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i#dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my#family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters#probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno.#i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity.#again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a#full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length#unrelated
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theflyingfeeling · 4 months
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fictalkfictalkfictalk
#like the clown i am i spent half the night awake trying to come up with a way to make the olli/allu modern-day royalty AU work out#my first idea was to try and make it similar to my college AU with POV chapters and shit#but i quickly realised it wouldn't work out for the same reason i'm still struggling with the gran hotel AU:#unlike with the college AU i don't have a clear character arch for everyone#e.g. i can't for the life of me think of a way to link the joel/niko side plot to the main plot to make it make sense#and idk what joonas' role would be other than to occasionally hook up with olli and fangirl about aleksi and pine for joel#soooooo it thought i could instead make it a series of shorter stories? if anyone out there is seriosly interested in reading this AU? 👉👈#like. the first one would obviously have to be a little longer since it's the establishment for the whole AU#so far i have an outline for a 6-chapter story from olli's and allu's povs. basically just them getting together#and the rest of what i have planned for the AU would be standalones or shorter establishments?#because if i were to include EVERYTHING in one fic it would most likely end up being +20 chapters lol#and no way in hell would i have the patience for that 💀#that way i could just time-jump to the scenes i want to write the most lol#instead of having to try and weave them together to form a longer coherent plot#i mean i looooooooove slow burn and all that but i don't want to overwhelm myself by starting to write something#only to realise 32k words later that i have no idea where i'm going with it D:#(my ski jumping rpf fic says hi 🙃)#but by writing individual shorter stories it would be much easier for me to handle the plot while also advancing it#because the storyline in my head is so extensive that i feel like i can't fit it all in just one fic#at least in a way that i would be satisfied with 😭#i can make them get together in 6 chapters with no trouble#but for them to actually form a secure relationship and get messed up in all that tabloid drama and face the prejudice of the royal family#until eventually getting their happy ending? yeah nope. gonna need at least 20 chapters for that lmao#and if i wanted to advance all the sideplots on top of all that? yeah nope 😵#with individual stories i could just write all the joonas/tommi and niko/joel (and unrequited j/j) as spin-offs! yay problem solved! 😇#pls don't get your hopes up though lol i may love planning fics but writing is another story entirely 😂#but yeah. watch this space?#or maybe i'll just continue writing random pointless olli/allu standalones whenever i get a burst of inspiration. we'll see 👀
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