#relic of youth

[aychama]

Some doodles I did of my Relic of Youth fic

#you guys either get high quality drawings or this #no in between #relic of youth #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #aychama #cotl heket #cotl shamura #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #doodles

[theehorsepusssy]

Press P-10 for boobies

I swear I might've saw Eraserhead on P-8. I know I saw Midnight Express and Harper Valley PTA after school.

#Relic from my youth #theehorsepussys ohio

[nyx-010]

I’m out of horny jail!!!

#hi to my followers and mutuals who are mostly inactive strangers at this point lmao #also i just managed to recover this blog after 3 years of trying #i'm a tumblr relic at this point #a lot of cringe from my youth is here so i might not be super active #but the historical significance of this ye olde fandom blog is worth preserving imo

[mariacallous]

The problem with judging people for their sins is that the internet makes it exceedingly easy to invent sins. In February, Buzzfeed News reported on a man filmed by a passing TikTokker, who then uploaded the footage with text suggesting he’d lied to her to get out of a date. That was false—he’d never met her—but it didn’t stop people from ridiculing him as the video racked up over a million views.

Similarly, last year, an Australian woman objected to being made the star of a stunt in which a TikTokker asked her to hold a bouquet, strolled off, and then congratulated himself on performing a random act of kindness. Sixty million hits later, his viewers were praising him for brightening the day of a woman they judged to be old, lonely, and sad. But she objected to that characterization and declared the whole affair “dehumanizing.” She hadn’t asked to have her day interrupted, let alone be thrust into a global spotlight.

And then there are those incapable of even grasping the situation. In 2022, a TikTok channel was called out for surreptitiously filming the homeless with drones. Loved ones with dementia are put on TikTok to be infantilized or have their worst moments gawked at. Parents transform their children into viral stars. Sometimes, those children grow up and call them out for warping their youth.

When people tell us it was harrowing and wrong to be unwillingly cast into the spotlight, we nod and agree. But those responsible typically offer only half-hearted apologies or remain unrepentant, while their millions of views discourage reflection. Often, moral scolding is implicit in the video and explicit in the comments: It is wrong to be homeless. It is gross to be ill. It is pathetic to be unhappy.

To be sure, crass and hateful public figures are worthy of ridicule. And we’ve been using the internet to judge strangers for as long as we’ve had the internet. But the common trait shared by much of the most obnoxious content today is that someone chose to elevate a stranger for no reason beyond their own gratification, attracting attention at a scale unimaginable in the days of relics like Hot or Not and People of Wal-Mart.

At best, these are misguided attempts to juice the poster’s social media presence. At worst, they are pointless cruelty. That cruelty can be addictive, but we can and must resist the urge to gawk at strangers against their will. It should, in fact, be considered rude, insulting, and wrong to have uploaded a stranger against their will. We would not go out into the streets and stir up a mob against a random person. Why are we so comfortable with doing it online?

Much of what we post online is innocent and will remain so. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, while the average number of Instagram followers, according to one estimate, is just 150. You likely use these platforms to follow celebrities and brands, and to interact with friends and family. These are, for most users, insular communities. Vacation photos with friends or a family portrait at Christmas are unlikely to attract trolls and creeps, and even if they do, they are clearly posted in good faith.

But some platforms, like TikTok and Twitter, are more exposed to the vagaries and cruelties of the wider world. Anything you post on them can wind up in the feed of people who don't follow you. Therefore, anyone can become the day’s punching bag. Does your relative really understand what could happen if you put your interaction with them on TikTok?

Maybe you know better than to post Grandpa on Twitter without thinking it through. We know whether our friends and family like attention and whether they understand social media ecosystems, and with this knowledge we are capable of making informed decisions as to whether and on what platforms we should post them. We do not have the same knowledge of strangers. That can be a reason to not post them, but it can also be an excuse to post them without thinking.

If it came out that an influencer uploaded an interaction with a stranger to a private Facebook page or Discord server solely so their closest friends and family could pick them apart, it would rightly be considered misanthropic. And yet uploading a stranger so millions can mock and over-analyze them is just the business of content. That business needs to change.

It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll ever eliminate jackassery from the internet, but a social media mishap involving a friend or family member can be resolved with communication.

It is harder for a complete stranger to succeed in that endeavor, especially when “Look at this weirdo I found, please gape at them” is the text or subtext of so many videos and posts by accounts that thrive on content starring the unwilling. Such content must become anathema. Particular thought must be taken before posting an interaction with a stranger, and the consent of a stranger to be posted at all is necessary to retain an internet that is even remotely civil. If someone does post a stranger without their consent, they should be shunned, not rewarded with the attention they crave.

The vast majority of disputes with unruly neighbors are solved by talking to them. Ideally, the law only gets involved when lines of communication break down. The same can be true of digital disputes.

We have privacy laws. If I were to post your name, address, and phone number, you would have legal recourse. And yet the same is not true for your image. Today, at least, you surrender your right to privacy by stepping into public. But outdated privacy laws are catching up to the abuses of government and tech, and the issues raised by social media virality could be next.

Still, a blanket law against posting strangers without their consent would be draconian and unworkable. There are too many variables, too many circumstances, and simply too many cases. However, whole generations who have been online since birth—sometimes unwillingly—could grow up to be more sensitive to the downsides of posting without permission, prompting a normative shift.

More specific laws are already evolving to handle some scenarios raised by nonconsensual virality, specifically as it applies to children. Irina Raicu of Santa Clara University’s Internet Ethics Program points out that a recent French law entitles child influencers to demand that platforms scrub all trace of them once they turn 16. The YouTube career their parents create for them—or force on them—need not be what defines them as adults. The United States is considering a similar law; a woman who testified to a House committee said the details of her first period were turned into content.

Another law being considered in France would make parents responsible for their children’s privacy rights. Le Monde cites, as an example of fame-seeking behavior that France is hoping to discourage, TikTokkers scaring their children by pretending to call the police on them, and an Instagrammer who smeared chocolate on her 4-year-old and convinced them they were covered in feces. We will eventually wonder how parents were able to get away with this at all.

So those who cannot consent are starting to be protected. But what about those who could consent, but don’t? And what if, as some unwillingly viral subjects have found, reaching out and asking for posts to be removed is met with silence or rejection?

In reality we already practice social media consent; it is not unusual to ask a friend if they’re alright with having a picture posted to Instagram, even though the face they make as they try to cram an unusually large sandwich into their mouth is not a flattering one. And yet we continually fail to extend this courtesy to strangers, either because we think nothing of it or because it is our job to go viral at all costs.

Some of this, as Raicu points out, can be blamed on the platforms we use, which encourage hair triggers. “There are ways in which the design choices behind many websites make it harder for all of us to think about consent,” Raicu wrote in an email. She points to the sheer ease of posting and the fact that norms around social media consent have not solidified. But she notes that platforms could “introduce some friction” in the form of, essentially, reminders that other people are human before you hit Post.

Future platforms could work to curtail shaming, either out of moral compulsion or legal necessity. Much as you can report harassment to social media platforms, posts that have elevated you to infamy against your will should be fair targets.

Lines have been drawn before. YouTube banned dangerous pranks and challenges after people were hurt and complaints mounted. TikTok is trying to tweak its algorithm in response to growing concerns that young users are awash in content encouraging suicide and incel ideology. Content made from those unable or unwilling to consent is a broad category that cannot be wiped out with algorithmic tweaks, but the damage is still happening, and we have the power to collectively declare that some forms of content are unacceptable and must no longer be tolerated.

Perhaps, given the increasing universality of social media usage—83 percent of Gen Z uses TikTok—platform-embedded tools could establish consent. Before posting a video of someone, an influencer could ask their username and send them a simple, stock contract granting them permission to post. Again, this need not apply to every random photo of friends. It could be optional, or it might apply only when an account reaches a certain threshold of followers. But a lack of permission could give a user cause when they cite unwanted virality and negative attention when asking for a post to be removed.

But most of the work will fall to people. It's difficult enough to remember that the man being a bit rude in the grocery store line is a fallible human being with hopes and dreams; it can be almost impossible to remind yourself of that when viewing a contextless clip of someone halfway across the hemisphere. The internet is capable of connecting us to tremendous numbers of people, even as it makes us forget that they are human like us.

An influencer comfortable with filming themselves for thousands of viewers should be comfortable with approaching a stranger and saying, “Would you mind appearing in a video I’m making? I’m going to post it on this platform, and I have this many followers. Take a minute to check me out.” Some already do, and surely there are people who would be happy to receive a free bouquet in exchange for appearing in a TikTokker’s silly stunt. But a no should be taken as a no, just as it should in any other scenario involving consent.

It’s all too easy to skip this step today. People who speak out when they feel harmed by what an influencer did with their image receive only a tiny fraction of the attention that the original posts featuring them got. But when an influencer is repeatedly called out for exploiting strangers—or when their exploitation is obvious, such as when they prey on the homeless—they should be frozen out of the social media ecosystem, not rewarded with attention and profit.

In the future, how will we be able to see such casual cruelty as anything but unethical? Maybe stories of regret are a sign of what’s to come. Brianna Wu, one of the victims of GamerGate, says she has fielded over 100 apologies, often from people who were at their lowest and saw her as an easy outlet for their emotions. But we generally don’t take our frustrations out on people on the street; understanding that people deserve to be protected from unsolicited online fame and malice is the next logical step.

We no longer parade people through villages on a cart or lock them in pillories in the town square to shame them, as was done in centuries past. We did not stop enforcing laws and norms, but we recognized that humiliation and ostracization are harsh, counterproductive tools. Eventually, we will make that realization about the strangers we parade across the internet.

[justalittlesolarpunk]

Fuck it, I’m suggesting a new day for the queer calendar: trans futures day. TDOV is a relic from another time and TDOR is vitally important but deeply emotionally distressing. Trans people deserve a day to celebrate our successes, our community, our joy, our resilience, our potential. As a solarpunk, I’m passionate about imagining better futures for all of us and a good future includes happy, thriving trans people who are beloved and valued members of their community and have self-determination over their gender expression and personal lives.

TFD could be all about inspiring trans youth about the adults they can become, celebrating growing older while trans, trans people working in progressive politics, the environmental sector, community organising, utopian storytelling and the cutting edge of new advances in science and technology, you name it.

As a date I propose 26th July - if I’ve mathsed right (always a gamble lol) that’s the day exactly halfway between TDOV and TDOR.

Who do I talk to about making it real? 😅

#hopepunk #futuring #trans pride #queer holidays #queer community #trans #non-binary #genderqueer #gnc #solarpunk #genderpunk #trans futures day

[saturnville]

candy bling, joe rantz.

pairing: joe rantz x black fem oc (cleotha jean). content: cleotha jean reminisces on her relationship with joe rantz. warning: more "modern" approach to their relationship. suggestive content. song: candy bling by mariah carey (I suggest you listen as you read). tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

In the solitude of her room, Cleotha found herself surrounded by fragments of a past she had long tried to forget. She sifted through the contents of a dusty old box, memories flooded her mind with an intensity she hadn't felt in months. Each item she unearthed struck her heart in ways that made her uncomfortable, a relic of a love once consumed by every thought and emotion.

Among the treasures she tried to forbet lay a delicate silver anklet, its tiny bells tinkling softly as Cleotha held it in her hands. Memories of lazy summer days and whispered promises rushed back to her, painting vivid scenes of youthful romance and boundless dreams. 

“What’s this?” Cleotha asked as she was handed a small, velvet bag. Her movements were sluggish as she peeled herself off the pillow she and Joe shared. The soft moan she pushed out was enough to make his insides stir again. 

Joe pulled his arm behind his head and drummed his fingers against his sheet-covered thigh. A small smile pulled on his lips as he shrugged. “Open it.” 

Cleotha held the sheet to her chest and shook the bag. Jingle, jangle. Her eyebrow quipped as she opened the bag and dumped the content in her hand. Two thin gold chains fell out, shining under the gaze of the sun. She hummed in awe as she fingered the chains delicately. “Two bracelets?” 

“Bracelet and anklet,” Joe replied with extra emphasis, a teasing tone underlying in his words. Cleotha, who knew exactly why he bought it, threw her head back in laughter. She muttered, “You’re disgusting.” Still, she held her wrist out for him to place the bracelet on it. 

Joe pulled the sheet back to reveal her brown legs. He readjusted their positions so he was in between her legs, her foot against his bare thigh. Cleotha watched intently as he hooked the gold chain around her ankle. He smiled in pride.

“You like it?” Cleotha asked, rotating her foot in a circle. Joe hummed and palmed her thigh, hooking her leg around his waist. He brought his lips to hers, nipping and sucking at the plushness there. Then, he made his way back down, pecking at her collarbone down to her calf once more, placing her leg over his shoulder.

“I do. I’ll like it even more in a second. Lay back.”

He made her feel so beautiful that day, glistening like jewels beneath the sunlight. Next to it, a necklace adorned with the initials 'J' gleamed in the dim light. She tried to smile as she recalled when she first received it.

“Joe!” she gasped. “This is beautiful! Will you put it on me, please?” 

“Of course. Turn around for me.” 

The smile on her face was childlike as she stood back to chest with her lover. His warm hands pushed her hair over her shoulder then wrapped the chain around her neck. The gold complimented her skin beautifully. He connected the link to the clasp and tapped her hip when he finished. “Let me see, sweetheart.” 

Cleotha Jean grinned as she posed in front of him, the J on her chest smiling back at him. Joe nodded in approval, “Looks pretty, baby.” 

“You think so?” she gushed, running her fingers off the pendant. “Want a closer look?” Cleotha pulled him in by his belt loops and pushed him against the bed, climbing on top of him. SHe wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed butterfly-like kisses all along his face. His cheeks were stained red from her lips,

Joe’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he welcomed her affection, His eyes dropped to the pendant that swung against her chest. “Yes ma’am.” 

But it was the worn envelope nestled at the bottom of the box that stirred something deep within Cleotha's soul. With trembling fingers, she traced the creases of the paper, feeling the weight of years of unspoken words and unanswered prayers. As she unfolded the letter, the words spilled forth like a long-forgotten melody, each line a poignant reminder of a love that had once defined her very existence. 

The park was their favorite place to be. Especially during the month of September. The sun still hugged them, but didn’t suffocate them with her warmth. Nature sung its harmonious song, the animals danced with each other amongst the trees, and the grass was still a bright green. It was a peaceful place to be. 

It was like every other weekend; Cleotha Jean and Joe were sprawled across a picnic blanket with a basket of food propped open in front of them. Joe was lying on his back while Cleotha sat upright munching on strawberries and coloring in her book. 

“Cleo,” Joe said. Cleotha hummed and continuing coloring her flower. “I wrote you a letter.” 

Her coloring stopped. She swallowed the remainder of her strawberry and dropped her colored pencil. Joe reached behind him for a white envelope that he managed to tuck under the blanket without her noticing. He extended it to her, which she took with thanks. 

Joe watched as Cleotha curiously peeled open the envelope and retrieved the letter. It was folded in threes, and was filled from top to bottom. 

My forever sweetheart, Cleotha Jean, 

You don’t understand that I wake up everyday and give thanks that you walked into my life. I felt that I was nothing but a poor kid with seemingly nothing to offer the world until you showed me otherwise. 

I didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than I loved myself. Your existence proves me otherwise. 

I often wonder if you know that you are a gift in human form. Wrapped in a brown shell, garnished with gold. I wish to keep you with me forever, as long as you’ll have me.

I often think about our future together. How I’m going to marry you as soon as we graduate. We’ll buy a house, travel the world, and have children. I’m still banking on 3, but whatever you want, I’ll be content. As long as I’m with you, I’ll take anything.

I want to be yours forever, if you’d have me. 

Will you marry me? 

The letter flew from Cleotha’s hands as she screamed loudly. The birds above her croaked at her sudden outburst. Her hands flew over her mouth and she finally made eye contact with her lover, who’d positioned himself on one knee with an open box in his hand.

The ring was beautiful. It was dainty, just as she liked, and a rich shade of gold. His eyes were hopeful as he awaited her reaction. 

“Will you—“

“Yes!” Cleotha replied gleefully. She threw her arms around him so wildly that he fell backward into the grass. His laughs were music to her ears. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you.” 

Joe smiled, “Yeah?” 

Cleotha bit back a teary smile and nodded. “Yeah. It’s you and me forever.”

Her sweet baby. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until she finished the letter and a puddle of tears smudged his neat handwriting. Cleotha folded the letter and put it back in the box, right next to the ring she took off months prior. It stared back at her and she forced herself to look away. She didn’t want to keep it, but Joe insisted she did, saying “it’s yours. I will never take back what rightfully belongs to you.”

With each memory unearthed, Cleotha found herself transported back to a time when love was pure, and the future seemed to be filled with promise. Yet, as she traced the contours of her past, a sense of longing stirred within her, a yearning for the man who had once held her heart in his hands.

She should’ve been over him by now, she scolded herself. Their union had ended more than a year ago; what was she holding onto? Well, another side of her probed. A three year relationship that began in college, an engagement, wedding planning, house hunting, and a planned future. It all dimished at the blink of an eye. It would take more than a year to recover from such emotional trauma. 

Cleotha befriended a bottle of red wine after that. It was sweet and savory, just like him. She chuckled lowly as her fingers dapped away the drop that fell from the corner of her lips. She should slow down, she figured, but it was the anniversary of a love that she cherished more than herself. She owed it to herself to get wine drunk and eat popcorn, right?

She tucked her feet under herself and poured another glass, humming a tune, though nothing particular, to herself. Just as she brought the glass to her lips, a knock sounded on her door. Her eyebrow quipped as her eyes darted to a nearby clock. It was 9:32 on a Saturday night, who could have been at her door. 

“Hold on!” she called out, glass in hand as she stumbled lightly to reach the door. She cursed as she stepped on a shoe that she kicked off in the entryway, toyed with the locks, and peeled the door open. “Oh…” 

If anyone would have told her he’d be standing in front of her right now, she would have called them a liar. The communication had been severed eons ago, only having heard from him when she got the job promotion she had been praying for. Any other conversation, interaction, or moment of desire, was a faction of her imagination. Yet, here he stood, a ghost from her past, with sorrow etched in his eyes and regret weighing heavily on his shoulders. And she had no clue how to handle it. 

She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or throw herself in his arms. He looked so different than when she last saw him. He was broader, presumably from working out to keep in shape as he moved on from his athlete days. His hair was still platinum, but it was slicked back rather than messible touseled, though she loved it that way. His eyes, so gorgeous and blue, were so sad and empty. 

“Hi, Cleo…” 

Cleotha’s eyes welled with tears. She’d yell, scream, and put him in his place in the morning, but right now, all she could do is throw her arms around his neck and cry woefully into his shirt. With a voice choked with an emotion, she found the strength to say, “I missed you.” Her voice trembled with vulnerability. “I missed you so much.”

And in Joe's eyes, Cleotha saw a flicker of longing that mirrored her own. They stood in the doorway of her home without the exchange of words. The tears and gentle touches spoke loud enough. Maybe in due time, what was broken could be repaired, and the union that began years ago, could be recovered. Just maybe.

—

likes are great, but feedback is desired as well, friends! thanks for reading!

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #the boys in the boat #tbitb #callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x black reader #callum turner x reader #joe rantz x cleotha jean by saturnville #joe rantz x reader #joe rantz x black!reader #joe rantz #major john egan x reader #john egan x reader #Spotify

[oldschoolvillageidiot]

Another relic from the olden days when Stargate SG-1 was airing live, that the youths may not know about. When Conan O'Brien had his original show, he had a segment called Pierre Bernard's Recliner of Rage, where a very soft-spoken man ranted about nerdy stuff. One time he did an entire bit about Daniel Jackson leaving SG-1. At the end of the bit, Conan said, "I think there are maybe six people out there who know exactly what you're talking about." One of those six people actually worked for the show, or was somehow connected to it, and they got in touch with Conan. They loved the bit, and invited Pierre to come out and film a cameo. He's the technician (Sergeant O'Brien) at the end of Zero Hour, and they did a follow-up bit following him when he went to Vancouver to film it.

Original Recliner of Rage segment

Follow-up

#stargate #sg1 #stargate sg-1 #amanda tapping #richard dean anderson #conan o'brien #pierre bernard

[in1-nutshell]

Hey just had a thought what if all the old Predacon buddy accidentally stumbles upon a relic that reverts them back to their younger body somewhere between when they were still a gladiator like they are mentally and physically reverted back into their younger form and younger predacon buddy is like more cold and distant but is still nice to the younger bots and Optimus

Young Predacon Buddy is not happy with this sudden change.

Especially with the buff Orin Pax they found.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon turning back to his prime youth with Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Optimus Prime

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

The team had recently acquired a new relic from the latest find.

Buddy had stayed in the base with Ratchet and the kids to try and decode the item.

When the team arrived, they placed the relic in one of the med slabs to be scanned later.

Buddy was finishing the decoding when the relic started powering up and had a bad feeling about it glowing.

Glowing things and Buddy didn’t exactly mix well.

A sudden beam came out of the relic and started bouncing around the base.

Everyone ran for cover.

The beam headed straight for Optimus.

Buddy ran and threw themselves at him covering the mech with their beast mode and large wings.

A sudden bright light flashed before dying down.

Buddy and Prime were okay.

But the closer the bots looked at Buddy they realized something was off.

Either that beam polished them and gave them a frame upgrade.

Or…

Something wrong happened.

The Predacon groaned as they got off the Prime shaking their helm.

They stood up straighter than they had ever seen Buddy go normally.

And they stretched their massive wings farther than they had seen before.

Buddy goggling opened and blinked their optics.

Their entire paintjob was new yet scratched.

They also had more decorative markings and more armor plating.

Buddy finally looked around and hissed.

Their plating flared up a bit making themselves look bigger.

More threatening.

They demanded to know where they were before they slit everyone’s throats.

Something was terribly wrong.

Optimus took this moment to call Buddy.

Buddy turned annoyed but it turned to shock and surprised.

They called him Orion.

…

Oh no…

After a bit of explaining and finally decoding the purpose of the relic.

The relic had the ability of returning a bot to a point in their youth along with all their memories from that point in time.

That meant Buddy was only familiar with Optimus and Ratchet.

Everyone else was a stranger to them.

Wheeljack

Buddy gets annoyed at all the asks to spar by many of these ‘Wreckers’.

Especially from the white one, Wheeljack.

A very persistent fellow.

When Buddy finally gave into the challenge, it was over in a couple of seconds. Usually this would have taken 5 minutes tops for Wheeljack with older Buddy.

This strength was scary.

Too quick…

Too brutal…

Too much of everything.

Buddy may have gone a bit too far with some more denting than what they would usually do.

And they weren’t even using most of their strength, and Wheeljack knew that.

Even now at the prime of their youth, they were still holding back.

“Hey Buddy, you wanna spar?”-Wheeljack

“And why would I want to spar with you? Do you not value your own life Wecker? I’d rather not give Ratchet more work in the med bay.”—Buddy

Buddy goes to walk away.

“It’s only sparring, or are you too afraid of the challenge?”--Wheeljack

Buddy stops and slowly looks back at Wheeljack with cold and calculated optics.

“Challenge accepted Wrecker…”--Buddy

Smokescreen

Buddy is softer with the younger members of the team.

Even when they found out about humans, they were soft on them too.

Smokescreen, still being one of the younger bots, got this treatment too.

Buddy did mention before that they had a habit of ‘taking bots under their wing.’

He didn’t think they meant it literally.

Buddy was a bit rougher than usual, but they still cared and looked out for him.

When Smokescreen asked to spar, Buddy hesitated to ask if that was what he really wanted.

Smokescreen said yes.

5 seconds…

5 seconds was what it took to bring him done.

A minute with the phase shifter on.

Buddy constantly gives him tips on footing and arm placement, but he doesn’t really take that into account while his helm is still spinning from the tail whip.

“Hi I’m Smokescreen.”--Smokescreen

Buddy looks at the bot.

Buddy takes their wing over him.

“Mine now.”--Buddy

“What?”--Smokescreen

“Mine.”--Buddy

Bulkhead

Buddy liked Bulkhead.

He was an almost adequate sparring partner.

He could take much more damage than some of the other bots here.

Bulkhead didn’t want to fight Buddy though.

Bulkhead had been the one to cause some heavy dents in Buddy before.

But that was the older, more patient Buddy.

Now he was talking to the les patient, younger Buddy.

Which gave Buddy the wrong message.

They thought that he didn’t want to spar them because they were a predacon.

An animal.

A monster.

Something not worthy of his time.

Buddy defiantly made sure the two of them sparred even adding more denting from their frustrations.

But not too much

They didn’t want to upset Ratchet or Optimus.

“Have you come to spar with me like your friend in the med bay?”--Buddy

“Nah, I don’t wanna hurt you, Buddy.”—Bulkhead

“I almost guarantee you won’t Wrecker.”--Buddy

“Yeah, but I hurt you last time—"--Bulkhead

Buddy clamps their jaw on Bulkhead’s arm and throws him on the far side of the room.

“You calling me weak!? I’LL SHOW YOU WEAK!”--Buddy

Ratchet

It was between Ratchet and Optimus to explain to Buddy what was happening.

They only trusted being around the two.

Both knew it would take a while for Buddy to warm up.

Buddy often dropped off team members who thought it was a good idea to spar with this much younger predacon.

Or the ones who pissed Buddy off.

Buddy does look after Ratchet.

More worried about how many years the bot put on.

Nearing the same age as each other, Buddy worried for their friend’s health often asking him to take naps while they kept watch.

Surprisingly this worked many times while Buddy was in the med bay.

Buddy would always stand guard over their resting friend, growling at anything that would disturb his sleep.

Mainly because Ratchet didn’t want to be physically subdued by a younger Predacon that could take him out in seconds.

“Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Ratchet

“Have you been sleeping well?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Ratchet

“You look closer to my age than a few cycles ago.”--Ratchet

“I’m old Buddy.”--Ratchet

“Not as old as me.”--Buddy

Optimus Prime

Buddy was extremely surprised to see Optimus and Ratchet the way they are now.

Ratchet for the number of years he took on.

Optimus… well that was self-explanatory.

From small Orion pax to big Optimus Prime there were quite a few changes.

It did warm his spark seeing Buddy so worried for their friends looking like they went a joined the pits.

Buddy for the first few days was Optimus and Ratchet’s shadow.

They constantly watched over the two like a hawk.

Even going as far as growing when one of the team memebers came to close to one of them.

Buddy insisted on sparring with Optimus

With this new form of him, he had a painted target on his back and Buddy was not going to let him go anywhere where he could get hurt.

Bigger framed or not, Buddy has taken down bots far bigger and stronger than him. He needs to get ready.

Optimus had the best time out of the entire team.

Mainly because Buddy focused on training Prime than getting the match over with.

“Orion?! Orion!”--Buddy

Buddy wraps their wings around the much larger Prime before taking a good look at him.

“What is all this? Are you planning on competing in the pits? When did you get so big? You were so small, why, you’re as tall as I am!”--Buddy

“There’s much that needs to be explained old friend.”--Optimus

“You, even sound old. Did Megatronus put you up to this? I swear that mech…”--Buddy

Buddy looks at Ratchet and nearly drops.

“Ratchet?!”--Buddy

Buddy goes up to him with a worried look.

“What happened?! You look almost as old as me? We just saw each other over two cycles ago? WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp ratchet #tfp wheeljack #tfp bulkhead #tfp smokescreen #tfp ratchet x platonic reader #tfp optimus x platonic reader #tfp wheeljack x platonic reader #tfp bulkhead x platonic reader

[aychama]

In the comment section of my Relic of Youth fic, people were disscussing babyfied Narinder so I had to doodle!

Might draw the baby in funny and cute clothes 👀

#cotl #cult of the lamb #aychama #relic of youth #fic #fic art #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #narilamb #cotl shamura #cotl heket #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #doodle #sketch

[midnight-raven]

Hazbin Hotel Fankids Ideas

ARIA MAGNE

Charlie and Vaggie’s Daughter.

Kind-hearted, always willing to help someone in need, and has a slight temper.

Talented singer, fierce fighter, speaks fluent demonic and spanish.

Growing up, Aria has met Lucifer a handful of times but she’s never met Lilith.

Has heterochromia; a pink and a yellow iris.

Her full demon form has wings, horns, and she wields a sword and shield.

Wants to help her mothers dream come true, and is insecure about being heir to the throne.

On occasions, Lucifer sends her a rubber duck for her birthdays.

OSCAR

Alastors’ Son

Oscar is a Shadow that Alastor brought to life as a deer demon and raised (without revealing the truth of his origins)

Polite, curious, has little social skills and a slight dark sense of humor.

Has antlers, one is half broken.

Collects old records and other relics.

Talented chef; cooks Hannibal Lector style.

Loves visiting Rosie in Cannibal Corner.

Smiles often but not as much as Alastor, and inherited a sliver of his powers.

HOPE

Husk & Angel Dusts’ Daughter

Nickname is ‘Wild Card’

Independent, feisty, and fiercely protective of the ones she loves.

Has wings, sharp claws, a second set of arms, and can cough up web-balls.

Hopes to someday break her Dads free of their contracts.

Has a strong dislike towards Overlords.

Adores Fat Nuggets.

The big sister to everyone in the youth group, she makes the best ice cream sundaes and milkshakes.

THE SNAKELINGS

Triplet sons of Sir Pentious.

FANG; The Leader (self proclaimed since he hatched first) Adventurous, Loyal, Assertive.

COYLE; The Powerhouse. Energetic, Playful, Impetuous

WRENCH; The Inventor. Timid, Curious, Imaginative.

Each of the snakelings adore their Dad and will do anything to help him.

The Egg Bois are the best babysitters/uncles.

THE VEES 2.0

VERA; Daughter of Vox

One of Hells most popular Influencers. Works with her Dad to promote Voxtec products on Voxtagram.

Has Techonopatic powers that she uses for her vlogs, and to stream shows with her friends.

Online; Vera is bold, confident and a tad boastful. Offline, with Virgil and Valerie, she’s fair, playful, and quieter.

VIRGIL, Son of Velvette.

Works as an enforcer for the Vees; dealing with unsatisfied customers, incompetent employees, etc.

The strong and silent type but is more talkative when around his mother and friends.

In his free time, Virgil enjoys sketching and spending time with Vera and Valerie.

VALERIE; Daughter of Valentino.

Passionate and Affectionate; Daddy’s Little Princess

Valentino spoils her with gifts but doesn’t let her out of V Tower very often, and scares off any suitors that look her way.

Only friends are Vera, Virgil, Kitty, and her litter of queeves.

HENRY HAVOC

Son of Katie Killjoy & Tom Trench

Blunt, Arrogant, & Insolent (Basically a Mini Sociopath)

Has to wear a muzzle and gloves because he both scratches and bites.

Works as a cameraman for 6 6 6 News, mostly so his parents can keep an eye on him.

(Sorry, that’s all I got)

#Hazbin Hotel #AU Idea #Fankids #OC Kids #Charlie Morningstar #Charlie #Vaggie #Chaggie #Alastor #The Radio Demon #Angel Dust #Husk #Huskerdust #Sir Pentious #The Vees #Vox #Velvette #Valentino #Katie Killjoy #Tom Trench

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering

Reader x Steve Raglan/ William Afton

TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON!!!

Summary: You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.

PART TWO: HERE❤️

William Afton was widely known to be involved in the disappearance of several children during the years that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was open. Because of this, he's renamed himself Steve Raglan and taken on the role of career counselor to ensure a security guard for his life's work.

Not only smart but extremely well coordinated, William navigates the halls and secret passageways of Freddy's today just as swiftly as he did in the 80's.

You'd been to Freddy's back in its glory days. You've seen the animatronics in their prime and even witnessed the tall yellow rabbit mascot that used to walk around, though he creeped you out, so you always steered clear.

Lately, college has been taking a toll on your mental state, so you decide to indulge in some good old-fashioned nostalgia in the form of "innocently" breaking and entering at Freddy's. Mostly you're just looking for a place to smoke a joint and think about anything other than your major you wish you'd switched a year ago.

"Come on, you said you'd go with me. No one's ever there, it's been closed since the fucking 80s, man," you plead with your friend Mike to join you.

"The temp agency just tried to get me to work there!"

"So then there's no security, right?!" You drive a hard bargain or maybe Mike's extremely obvious feelings for you influence all his decisions.

"Alright. I'll be over in 10. I'm putting Abby to bed." He caves and you giggle in victory before hanging up. While waiting for Mike, you roll a few joints, grab your CD player, and slide a lighter into your front pocket. The minutes drag by until you hear Mike's piece of shit car pull into your driveway. You bolt out the door and climb into the vacant passenger seat.

Mike can't help but stare at you for a minute. You're easily the most beautiful person in this town as far as he's concerned, but he can't bring himself to make a move considering his ever-complicated home life.

"Thanks for doing this, dude. School is kicking my ass." You smile at your friend, and he quickly turns away, hoping the night is concealing the blush on his cheeks.

The drive to Freddy's is short and exciting. It's been years since you've seen this place. Mike pulls into the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot and the two of you devise a plan of entry. At the very back of the building, there are two large loading dock doors. With both you and Mike using all your strength, you get it open just enough to crawl through.

"Jesus Christ, what did I let you talk me into?" Mike coughs away the dust.

"Come on, this way!" You drag him by the arm, the blood in his face rising just from your touch. Anyone with two eyes could see how Mike felt about you, except you.

You and Mike sit on the floor, right in front of the main stage. The four, old robotic humanoid animals still occupy their spots, holding their respective instruments or props. Time has been unkind to them.

You spark up one of the joints and pass it back and forth to Mike. You each share a headphone as you stare into the tall, decrepit ceiling of the restaurant.

"You think the bathrooms here still work?" Mike asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Surely they do if they wanted you to work here, right?" You ponder the question further. "Maybe check the ones in the office area." You point to a door that you recall from childhood that leads to the "boring" part of Freddy's. You ended up there by accident and swore you heard screaming, so you never went back.

Mike disappears in pursuit of a restroom, leaving you by yourself on the large, open party floor. You light another joint and stare quizzically at the robots. You become lost in thought thinking about how lonely it must be here, after all this time.

"You've been waiting for an audience, haven't you?" You tilt your head. Mike's taking longer than you anticipated, so you grab the other headphone and place it in your vacant ear. The volume is loud enough for you to imagine the animatronic band playing it. For a moment, everything around you melts away. You close your eyes, reliving a carefree time in your youth.

"Y/N!!!" Mike barrels down the hall. He's sprinting around every corner, tripping and stumbling the whole way in fear and adrenaline. "GET OUT!! GET OUTSIDE!!" He screams, but you can't hear him. You can't hear a thing. Just as he's about to make physical contact with you, he's yanked backward. The large, yellow rabbit that used to freak you out drags Mike behind the kitchen doors before bludgeoning him over the head, knocking him unconscious.

"I thought you couldn't do nights, Micheal?" The rabbit man binds Mike's wrists together and drags him through the same doors as before. He securely fastens his restraints to a support beam and stands. Already a tall man, he towers in the suit. William Afton.

William slowly turns his head, looking right at you. You sit with your back to him, on the far side of the room, closest to the stage. He takes two steps before you glance behind you, wondering where your friend is. Your breath hitches in your chest when you're met with a giant bowtied rabbit. You glance behind him to see Mike's motionless body on the floor. Time's moving too fast to tell if he's alive or not, and you scream again before taking off toward the door.

The rabbit man gestures to the stage and begins to slowly stalk toward you.

"Stay the fuck away from me! What did you do to Mike?"

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't stop fucking screaming!" William's voice is robotic and warped through the automated helmet of the suit. He's inhuman to you. Your mind can't wrap your head around the fact that anyone is in the suit, let alone William Afton himself. You try to silence your wails, but you can't do anything to stop the terrified sobs. All you can do is think about Mike.

"I-Is he dead?" You whimper, in a state of shock.

"Not yet," is all the rabbit says before he advances on you, grabbing you with unnatural strength. Your arms are pinned by your sides and he lifts you off the ground with ease. Kicking and fighting does nothing but bruise you up, but you try regardless. You manage to free one arm, and in your hysteria, you knock the mascot's helmet off his head. The helmet falls with a heavy thud, but it's as if it's muted in the background as you stare at William. He stares back, unfazed by his revealed identity. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"W-W-W-"

"William," he growls before placing his steel-covered hands around your throat while you were too distracted to notice he'd sat you back down. You claw at the lifeless metal and cloth, but slowly, your vision becomes blurry, and then... Nothing.

Mike wakes before you. He recovers quickly as he realizes where he is. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"Y/N!" Mike screams, but there's no reply. He's alone in silence for a few minutes before the unmasked rabbit man appears carrying your wilted body. Mike begins to panic. "What did you do to her?!"

"Calm down, Micheal. She's just tired. She's gonna need her energy." William grins, sending a wave of nausea through Mike's stomach. "You should feel lucky, you get to watch." He steps out of the robotic suit revealing clothes similar to the ones he wore when he first met Mike, not long ago.

"Watch what?" Mike raises a brow. William doesn't reply, he just starts cutting the clothes off of your body. "What are you doing?! Don't fucking touch her!"

William laughs at him, licking the entire length of his middle finger and sliding it inside you while he stares at Mike. He continues to play with you, rendering Mike into a livid mess. William shakes his head, amused, continuing with whatever dark plan he's already hatched for the evening.

You have no idea how much time has passed, but eventually, you wake up. You groan as you try to sit up, only to find that you're bound to a tabletop in an X formation with your legs hanging off the side where your knees bend. There's a raggedy drape of cloth over your body and the dry, musty smell is enough to make you sick. You scan the room in a quiet panic, unable to move and truly study your surroundings. Quickly you spot Mike. His left eye is swollen and will surely be blacked by the time you get out of here... If you get out of here.

"Mike!" You try to yell, but it comes out as a strained wheeze after the damage William did to your throat. Mike locks eyes with you and that's when you notice how scared he looks, but not for himself. You furrow your brow and look in the other direction. There stands William. He's out of the suit now, standing over you with a devilish grin.

"Breaking and entering isn't a good look for either of you," William chuckles. "But especially you, sweetheart." William places a soft hand on your cheek. You recoil in fear.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Mike thrashes in his restraints. It's clear to you that Mike knows what's about to happen before you do.

"Please, we're sorry. We won't say anything to anyone, just let us-"

"Don't be cliche. You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. This is someone's stuff, you know? Someone's livelihood."

"I'm sorry," you sob.

"You're gonna be," William hits the joint he commandeered from you, and after a long drag, he flicks it to the side and begins to unfasten his belt.

"No! No, no!" You plead, arching and bucking your hips in hopes of loosening the cables that secure you to the tabletop. Mike causes his wrists to bleed, but he still can't get free. William strokes his erection as he watches your helpless body writhe under the sheet. You accept your fate, horrified and humiliated, you look away, facing the stage. You quickly notice it's empty and your heart begins to race.

"They won't be joining us. This is for my- our eyes only." William releases a deep, taunting laugh and starts pumping his middle finger in and out of you again.

"M-Mike..." You try to ask for help, unsure of what he could do for you at this point, but desperate to be free. He won't even look at you now. He's slouched over, looking at the floor, trying to drown out the sensual wet sounds coming from William's fingers scissoring inside you.

"He doesn't want to save you, sweetheart. He wants to see you get fucked against your will." With his last word, he heaves the entire table closer to him, giving Mike a front-row seat to the show. Panic consumes you. Before you have the chance to beg for mercy again, William tears the unkempt sheet from your body, leaving you entirely exposed.

"No! Wait, please!" Your fight or flight response kicks in, but you're helpless to do either. The cables strain against the table, but you're unable to move an inch. You look back at Mike. He meets your gaze and the two of you share a knowing look before you feel William slide the head of his cock up and down your clit, soaking it in the arousal your body had no choice but to pool between your legs after the ways he touched you.

"You make it hard to believe you don't want it when you're dripping like this, sweetheart," William taunts. You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed and afraid, unable to watch the blood rise in Mike's face as he watches you get defiled. Just as you're sure William is about to slam into you with no mercy, he pulls away. You open your eyes and glance at him in confusion, hoping he's realizing he can just let you both go and that would be the end of it. But that's not the case.

William bends to knees, placing your soaked entrance right at the perfect height for him to consume you.

"Let's see how difficult I can make this for you." William buries his tongue in your wet folds, flicking the muscle delicately over your violated clit. You try as hard as you can to fight back any kind of reaction, but you fail. A soft, breathy moan slips from your lips like a note from a music box. William laughs against your sensitive skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Mike hangs his head in defeat, listening to the sounds of you succumbing to William's sensual touch.

"What are you sorry for? She loves it," William smirks before curling a finger inside you, eliciting another explicit moan from you. He regains his standing position and replaces the head of his erection at your pulsating entrance, waiting. "I've needed this. You have no idea how stressful it is to keep a place like this under wraps."

All you can think about is how stress got you here. All you wanted was a smoke session with your best friend in a cool venue, and now, here you are. You're jarred from your thoughts when William's massive erection drives into you. It's abrupt and painful, but your body gushes with arousal to make up for the stinging, pleasurable friction.

"No!" You scream. Mike fights against his restraints one more time, thrashing and sliding his body in any direction he can, but he's stuck. William throws his head back in ecstasy as he plows into you. He's fucking you like he's eating his last meal. Breathless grunts of focused pleasure fall from his chest. His rough, calculated hands find your breasts, toying delicately with your nipples.

You close your eyes and try so hard to escape the reality of the situation, but William lands a hard, heavy smack across your face, shaking you back into the moment. With a stern hand, he grabs your face and forces you to look at Mike. He's red-faced, enraged, and tired. You can't decide if you want him to look at you or not.

Mike mouths an "I'm sorry" to you, but all you can do is stare at him while William picks up his pace. Your vision is unsteady as he jostles you around.

"You've gone quiet. I think I need to fix that." He draws his hips back and in a split second, your eyes widen in fear before he slams into you at full force. A loud, moaning wail emits from you and the humiliation finally tears your gaze away from your best friend. "There she is," William smirks, steadying his thrusts yet again.

"Please... Stop..." You moan between gasps. Your orgasm is building at break-neck speed. The last thing you want is to climax around William's invasive erection, but it seems as if you have no other choice. The hitching breaths in your chest become loud, sultry moans. Your mind is too frazzled to focus on withholding any signs of enjoying him. Tears stream down your face, but you admit to yourself that you don't want him to stop.

Mike looks away for a moment, but can't help but stare at you. Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches so intensely. He watches the 'O' shape your mouth takes and imagines those same lips wrapped around him. He has to shift uncomfortably, hoping to conceal his already obvious bulge. After you've ridden out your high on William's cock, he slowly slips out of you. Taunting you.

William knowingly reaches under the table and unfastens whatever link was holding each of your extremities. Your hands instinctively find your most delicate, used areas.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so," he snaps, taking your wrist in one of his strong, demanding hands. His riddance of contact allows your mind to clear from the climax and you're suddenly afraid again. A notorious serial killer is making you his toy.

"Let her go, you've had your..." Mike searches for the words, but he's unsure how to describe the vulgar scene before him. "Just let her go, man." He looks exhausted.

"Don't talk yourself out of a good thing, Micheal," William chuckles before shoving you to the ground in front of Mike. You land with a thud, releasing an involuntary whine of pain when you hit the hard surface. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No! I-" Mike attempts to protest, but William cuts him off.

"Oh, please. You're not fucking her. Probably never will. Now you get to get off on the idea that it's being taken from her."

"You're a fucking monster!" Mike thrashes against his binds, protectively snapping at William like a guard dog.

"You want me to let her go?" William squats beside the two of you. You lie fucked-out and terrified, curling up next to Mike for some sort of dignity. William grabs your hair and sharply yanks you toward him. You release a high-pitched squeal and allow him to guide your head to Mike's pants zipper.

"What are you doing?" Mike shuffles uncomfortably.

"Don't make me wait," Afton snaps at you and you quickly reach a shaking hand for Mike's pants button.

"What are you doing?! Stop, let her go!" He tries to shake your hands away, noticing the waves of tears falling down your face as you already piece together what William might make you do.

"Mike, I-" you're cut off by William shoving your face into Mike's newly exposed crotch. He diligently bobs your head for you, fist still wrapped in your hair. The second you make contact with Mike's cock, he releases a deep, sensual sigh. Small moans fall out of him left and right, nothing he can do to stop them.

"Tell her to stop, Mike." William waits, but Mike is silent. You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears well up. "Tell her to stop, and I'll let you both leave right now." Silence.

"Mike?" You beg, relieving yourself from the forced fellatio. Mike doesn't look at you, he can't. William smirks and shoves your face back to work. He makes good use of your throat as you take Mike as deep as his shaft can possibly go, ignoring any protest from you.

Mike begins to pant heavily. Little whimpers escape his mouth as his orgasm builds.

"F-Fuck," he huffs before finishing down your throat. When William finally pulls you away, you're a choking, sobbing mess. Betrayal doesn't properly describe what you're feeling right now.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I- I don't-" Mike fumbled over his words, red-faced and breathless.

"Shut up, now. You had your turn." William lifts you from the ground with ease and throws you against the same table as before. This time, you're bent over it, presenting your ass to him like a trophy to be won. To be taken.

"Please let me go home. I want to go home..." You sob with your face pressed to the large party table. Mike's eyebrows upturn as he watches you cry. Guilt consumes him, and the helplessness of your cries only amplifies that. He's not sure why he didn't tell you to stop, he knew it was the right thing to do. But he was so enveloped in the feeling of your lips bobbing up and down his erection, how could he ever ask for it to end?

"Shhh, you're doing fine, sweetheart." Afton coos in your ear as he leans over you. He's so tall, it's nothing to him. He plays with your pussy for a moment, slipping a long, nimble finger inside you. His eyes roll back in his head as he tests how tight you are in this position. "Perfect."

William slips inside you, fucking you as if he didn't just screw you senseless not long ago. His large, calloused hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek, and a loud slap echoes through the empty restaurant. You release a cry of pain every time he lands a blow, and he does it a lot. You're fucked out, beaten, bruised, abused- everything.

"Plea-" you beg, but another HARD smack to the ass shuts you up.

"Shut up! I'm so... Fucking..." William slams into you one final time before you feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. "Close..."

"No!" You try to kick and fight and do anything in your power to stop him from cumming inside you, but it's entirely too late. You sob loudly as Mike watches in horror. William removes himself from you and his handiwork spills from your swollen entrance. Your weak knees wobble under your weight.

Afton looks at Mike and grins deviously before flipping you over and clasping his powerful hands around your neck. The sound of Mike pleading for your life becomes a dull mumble in the background as you slowly lose consciousness. Once you're out, William readjusts his rolled-up sleeves and lands a hard, knock-out punch on the side of Mike's skull.

He dumps you both in the back alley, unsure if you're both alive or dead. He doesn't care, he just doesn't need you here anymore.

Mike wakes up first, placing a gentle hand on his face and wincing at the pain.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He scrambles over to you and takes you in his lap. You're still naked and you're covered in bruises and scrapes, a testament to how hard you fought and how strong William is. "Please wake up. Please wake up, dude. This isn't funny."

You don't move.

"Please wake up! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!" He repeats over and over, shaking you and lightly tapping your face with his open hand. Finally, you suck in a big breath. The sound of you inhaling causes Mike to jump, but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, relieved to see you alive.

"Mike..." You groan. He quickly sheds his jacket and wraps it around your crumpled form, hoping to give you some sort of cover. The two of you get into Mike's car and head back to your house. The ride back is mostly silent until he finally speaks.

"Y/N, I- back there, I..." He doesn't know what to say.

"I don't think he would've let us go anyway." You stare out the window in a state of shock, secretly reliving the way William made you feel.

"No- that's not the point. I mean-" Mike struggled with his words yet again.

"Do you think he let us live for a reason?" You finally glance at Mike. It's the first time you've looked at him since he filled your throat with an entire friendship's worth of pent-up feelings.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. We're never going back there, I promise." He's attempting to comfort you, but something depraved and demented inside you is already thinking about what he'd do if he got his hands on you again.

#tw non con #tw dark fic #non con #fnaf dark fic #steve raglan smut #steve raglan #william afton #dead dove do not eat #dub con #william afton smut #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #steve raglan non con #william afton non con #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard smut #five nights at freddy's

[astrojulia]

Super Detailed Pick a Pile: Everything about your soulmate

Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedbacks

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DISCLAIMER. These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purposes. I tried my best to leave it gender neutral, but one word or another might have escaped (Portuguese is a language where all words have gender). Also, this post is a remake of a old post of mine.

Warnings: +18 content

Hello Siren!

The Soulmate PAC is an old post of mine from another tumblr, so I wanted to remake this. This pick a pile was inspired by my full soulmate reading with you can purchase here as Sirens and Pirates, but this PAC is smaller than a SnP. It is a general reading, so pick what resonates. Each pile was made with a different tarot and was used 66 card per pile.

How to choose a pile

When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise! .

Open the image for better quality!

Pile 1 - So this is Love

To find a compatible partner, one must let go of the past and embrace new opportunities for love. Feeling betrayed and exhausted by past experiences, individuals often retreat into a self-imposed cocoon, avoiding further romantic entanglements. Some even convince themselves that love is not meant for them, focusing on other aspects of their lives. However, deep down, they yearn for a loving partnership and dream of finding a soul mate. It is essential for them to regain faith in love, as that is when it will manifest itself.

This person will possess an exotic allure, standing out in a predominantly white environment if you live in one, or appearing Asian in a predominantly black community, and so on. They will exhibit distinctively masculine features, and if you are attracted to men, they will maintain a well-groomed full beard. Their physique will be muscular, possibly bearing scars from past conflicts. Despite their actual age, their appearance might suggest a weathered and tired countenance. They exude an air of confidence and vibrancy, always seeming to know their direction. Their posture is upright and correct, with a preference for looking straight ahead rather than sideways. When engaging in conversation, they make direct eye contact, conveying the need for face-to-face interaction. Symbolic tattoos, usually discreet in size, may adorn their body—a relic from their youth, which they have come to accept. Their hair color tends to lean towards shades of brown and red.

This person is naturally seductive and charismatic, a born leader who is sociable, diligent, focused, and selfless. They possess intelligence and have nurtured dreams and clear goals since childhood. They likely aspired to a particular profession from an early age, devoting extra time to study during high school to pass entrance exams for their desired schools and colleges. Due to financial constraints within their family, they started working at a young age to fulfill their desires beyond the essentials. Consequently, they appear fatigued at times, but their relentless work ethic remains unwavering. They admire hardworking individuals, especially those who hold them in high regard. Though they have experienced numerous relationships, ranging from serious commitments to fleeting encounters, they currently prefer to avoid emotional involvement, except with the right person.

You may encounter this individual at unexpected moments: perhaps attending the funeral of a distant relative, neighbor, or coworker; during a minor street accident resulting in minor vehicle damage; dropping a beverage from their hand (often on a beach); while visiting a theme park like Disney; at a job promotion celebration; or attending a lecture on physical or mental health.

You will enter into a serious relationship after 8 weeks of getting to know each other, primarily during the spring and summer seasons.

They will treat you as the love of their life, someone who gives their existence purpose. Each day, their love for you will grow, expressed through affectionate words and small gestures. Despite this, you may sense a certain barrier between you, and even with all their declarations of love, you may not feel entirely secure. However, addressing this issue relates to your own self-esteem. Even though they deeply love you, they will still value their own individuality and require personal space. They will involve you in their activities, making choices for dates that cater to your preferences, and they will strive to give you gifts that truly please you. They will enjoy carrying you and playfully tickling you. They will appreciate your body as a masterpiece and, over time, being vulnerable and exposed before you will feel natural, without any shame, as they demonstrate their profound love for you.

What captivates you most about them is their resilience in overcoming numerous challenges without losing their essence, despite the cruelty they may have faced. You will be among the few who understand the reasons behind their chosen path—a path driven by both pain and love. For instance, they may be an oncologist due to the loss of both parents to cancer or a bricklayer due to their past experience with homelessness. They are exceptionally genuine, preferring to confront the truth and accept its consequences rather than resorting to repeated lies. They treat everyone they encounter as equals, greeting all with kindness. They likely possess fluency in three languages. Although they possess great strength, they openly express their emotions, unashamed to shed tears if they identify as a man.

One aspect that may challenge your acceptance is their proclivity for swearing. You may often feel bewildered around them, as they may not take the time to explain things for your comprehension—it is your responsibility to manage your own understanding. When angry, they may speak in another language to avoid upsetting you, as they may scold you during such moments. They prefer communication through written messages, meaning you may never hear their voice if you're physically distant. They may struggle to measure their words, often unintentionally causing you pain. Additionally, they tend to speak rapidly, causing you to feel overwhelmed or lost.

They will teach you to cultivate kindness towards others, to genuinely love people without expecting anything in return. They will show you that you don't have to depend on others to attain your desires, emphasizing your complete independence and worthiness of receiving what you seek. They will inspire an entrepreneurial spirit within you and reinforce the belief that you deserve boundless love.

They enjoy teaching you one of their languages, particularly their native tongue. Couples therapy or visits to a psychologist/therapist are activities they appreciate. They are diligent about reminding you to schedule doctor appointments and even notify you when it's been a year since your last dental check-up. They also take pleasure in watching drama series or engaging in educational content, such as medical or science-related shows.

They admire your ability to rely on intuition when making decisions. Your strong familial bonds resonate with them, and if you have children, they will always express that you are the best parent in the world, crediting you with creating such a wonderful family. They appreciate your idealistic perspective on life, even if it occasionally diverges from realism. They value your commitment to fairness and your desire to contribute to society by helping others as much as possible.

When you're feeling down, they shower you with "silly" messages, including affectionate words, memes, and short funny videos featuring adorable animals. They provide calming medicine or any other assistance you need, respecting your choices and existing medical treatments. They indulge in small gestures like buying candies, chocolates, or trinkets. They also understand the importance of giving you space for introspection and solitude.

They envision a lifelong partnership with you, even until death separates you. They see both of you evolving together and dream of passing away side by side or in close succession, as they cannot fathom a moment of their existence without you. They perceive your relationship as an incredible partnership where mutual support endures in every possible aspect, forever.

They tend to be more dominant, taking pleasure in generating ideas and planning for the future. They enjoy assuming a leadership role and having precise knowledge of long-term plans, often organizing and exerting control in various aspects of their lives.

While they possess a forgiving nature, they have a strong memory and never truly forget the hurtful words or actions directed at them. They strive to avoid crossing dangerous boundaries that may inflict further pain. Similarly, they may feel inclined to comment on past mistakes you've made, but they understand it is not right to do so. They will pretend that nothing happened and that it doesn't bother them, but in reality, it does. When they are angry or when a conflict arises, they prefer to disengage and walk away, avoiding involvement in such confrontations.

They are deeply grateful for all the gestures you do for them, and they show their appreciation through actions rather than words. They consider themselves the luckiest person in the world to have you by their side, and they always strive to reciprocate by going above and beyond. For example, if you make them a coffee, they will prepare dinner for you.

They maintain a high level of honesty with you, sharing the events and experiences that have shaped their life since you met. However, they tend to avoid discussing their past, as they feel more protected by focusing on the present and future. They prioritize sharing relevant information and memories that have left a lasting impact. If you inquire about something that happened at their workplace and they haven't mentioned it, they may simply state that they didn't notice or didn't consider it important to discuss. They only speak about what they deem necessary and tend to avoid indulging in gossip or trivial matters.

While they may adjust certain habits you find displeasing, their core essence remains unchanged. Their life goals and dreams are not influenced by external factors.

They have a possessive streak and can experience jealousy, considering you as theirs. However, they place a great deal of faith in you and firmly believe in your loyalty. They take pride in showcasing you like a trophy and may become uncomfortable when others get too close.

When it comes to kissing, they engage in playful banter and tend to use a lot of tongue. They enjoy sharing laughter during these moments. They appreciate both long, passionate kisses that leave them breathless and the tender stolen kiss of a first encounter. While they possess a good understanding of kissing techniques, it doesn't guarantee that every kiss will be the best of your life, as some moments can be a bit awkward.

To express their affection for you, they often demonstrate it by giving you something you expressed a strong need or desire for. If they are not skilled in a particular craft, they may purchase a valuable item like a perfume you mentioned wanting. However, if their profession allows, such as being a woodworker, they might create a bookcase that you mentioned needing. This is how they initially convey their growing feelings for you.

They express a strong desire to get married, viewing it as a way to solidify the relationship and eliminate any competition. Marriage provides a sense of security for them, ensuring that they don't have to worry about losing you to someone else. They particularly value a civil marriage, as it allows for a name change, and they would be delighted if you choose to adopt their last name. Their proposal will be serious and formal, perhaps even appearing as if something tragic has happened. They also express an inclination towards a religious wedding, especially if they are Catholic. If you agree, the ceremony will take place in a church with a large number of guests.

Here are some nicknames they might affectionately call you: spitfire, princess, queen, sleeper, traitor, apple, star, jack of all trades.

When they start falling in love, they prefer to first discuss the relationship with their family. Until they gain their family's approval, they are hesitant to discuss the relationship with others. Their family's endorsement is crucial for them to move forward, and during this time, only you will be aware of their feelings. Once they have their family's support, they proudly introduce you to everyone. They enjoy picking you up from work or wherever they are, using the opportunity to show that they are with you. When people mention you, they respond with a silly laugh and proudly say, "Yeah, I'm dating them." They express their affection in a loving and respectful manner, not overly clingy but seeking physical contact and affection.

They prefer to engage in small displays of affection in public, such as holding hands and giving light kisses. They do not feel the need to showcase their intimate life, as they consider it a more private matter. However, they find it exciting when you flirt with them in public, building anticipation until you're alone together. They have no qualms about you wearing clothing that highlights your body; they see it as normal and don't feel embarrassed.

They possess culinary skills and are self-sufficient in the kitchen. They also excel at negotiation and can secure discounts when making purchases. They make a point to greet people they encounter and can communicate with individuals you may not be able to due to their proficiency in multiple languages.

They enjoy making love promises, expressing their deep love for you and emphasizing your importance in their life. However, they won't do this excessively, as they are rational and prefer not to repeat themselves. They derive great pleasure from surprises, both big and small. Traveling is one of their greatest passions, and they may express a desire to have a romantic getaway with you in Venice. They are likely to send you frequent short messages expressing their fondness for you, rather than constantly repeating the same declarations of love.

They assist you in making difficult decisions by presenting the pros and cons of each option. Moreover, they actively seek out opportunities for you, stepping in to help if you're unemployed. However, they never do your job for you; instead, they offer support and assistance when needed, such as helping you with a project or task.

Participating in social events, parties, and gatherings is important to them, and it contributes to their satisfaction with the relationship routine. If they are unable to go out, party, or even have a gathering at home, they may become quite upset. They also enjoy friendly competition with you, finding joy in games that have a winner, which adds excitement to their daily routine.

They aren't particularly sensitive to others' pain. If you're upset and crying, they may inquire if there's a way to solve the problem. If there isn't, they might question why you're crying excessively. They are observant and can discern your emotional state, but if your day is bad, they won't repeatedly ask how you're doing. They tend to address the matter once and then move on, not inclined to give multiple chances. If you express your desires or feelings to them, they will understand and make an effort to accommodate you. However, if you don't communicate openly, they may be aware that something is amiss but won't take action. They value direct communication.

While they consider the relationship to be a source of strength and comfort, it doesn't hinder them from pursuing their personal goals and aspirations. They view the relationship as a partnership built on trust and mutual respect. They would loathe giving up their job to live a confined life for any reason. They highly value their freedom.

They have triumphed in various battles and competitions, perhaps winning sports competitions during their high school years. However, what truly stands out to them in life is the resilience they developed from experiencing hunger and homelessness.

Physical touch isn't their preferred means of showing affection. Instead, they opt for brief, light touches to remind you of their presence. They aren't inclined towards strong hugs or prolonged clinginess. They express their affection through frequent texting (yes, they enjoy texting), engaging in late-night conversations, and, as you mentioned, through sexual intimacy.

When they miss you, they tend to eat a lot and may also indulge in adult content as a means of "relieving" their longing. Additionally, they may find solace in activities such as gardening or building something while you're away. At work, they may work overtime when they know you won't be around.

If you happen to have to work elsewhere and be separated from them, they would patiently wait for you to return, even if it takes up to seven years. They wouldn't change their current location if it's where they want to be, but if you needed to go far away, they would eagerly await your return. They firmly believe that love is something that is nurtured and built upon, and they are committed to building something meaningful with you every single day, regardless of the circumstances.

Pile 2 - Kiss the girl

Your soul mate does not reside where you currently live. They are from another state or even a different country. Your nationalities are vastly diverse, and that is why you will only encounter them once you venture beyond your familiar surroundings. You will cross paths with them when you undergo a profound transformation that reshapes your foundations, prompting you to start afresh and pursue the dreams you have harbored. Even then, despite any challenges or setbacks, you persevere and meticulously plan for a new beginning. It is in this juncture of rebuilding and expansion that you will find your soul mate. Alternatively, they may enter your life after a significant and positive transformation, when your long-cherished aspirations finally materialize, and you begin charting new paths to build upon your achievements. Another possibility is that you will encounter them when embarking on a new journey following a setback or a momentous victory.

Physically, they possess a well-defined and sturdy bone structure. Their body naturally carries a certain weight, and their features exhibit a square shape. Their skin tone is naturally dark, which may be attributed to their race or a sun-kissed complexion. They radiate a lively and dynamic aura, constantly in search of their true love. When you two meet, it will feel as if you have found your missing half. They will bear a resemblance to their ancestors and may have a distinctive accent. They prefer to dress in dress shirts, lightweight attire, and coats. Despite being dynamic and fun-loving, their posture tends to be closed and serious, as if their mind is open while their body remains guarded.

Spirituality holds significant importance for them. They have a profound sense of a life mission and feel a calling that drives them to tap into their inner power. They are deeply devoted, not to a specific entity, but to making the world a better place. They possess unwavering faith in humanity and strive to uplift it. In everyday life, they maintain a certain level of reserve and mystery. They do not easily reveal their true selves or allow others to feel too close and comfortable around them, as they cherish their personal space. They are dreamers who long for the next generation to surpass the current one, both in terms of personal growth and global betterment. Family holds immense significance to them, and they carry the lessons and values imparted by their own lineage. Consequently, they aspire to create their own family and pass down those intergenerational teachings.

You may cross paths with your soul mate in various settings: at a waterfall, within an orphanage, school, or children's establishment, during a business meeting, at a volunteer-driven Thanksgiving gathering, in a marketplace, at a street fair, or even under a sky adorned with rainbows. It will be a relationship in which neither of you needs to explicitly ask if it is serious or not. You will naturally come together without uttering the words "Will you date me?" After approximately eight weeks of getting to know each other, you will seamlessly transition into being lovers without the need for verbal confirmation. It will simply be an unspoken understanding between you both.

They are a very romantic individual, albeit a bit awkward. It seems that there's always something getting in their way due to their natural clumsiness. For example, they might buy a bouquet of flowers, but somehow manage to get it wet. Despite these quirks, they are deeply passionate and faithfully devoted to you. They perceive you as a flame, something that can both provide warmth and comfort, yet also have the potential to hurt and destroy. As a result, they both admire and fear your immense power. They often recognize your capabilities even when you may not see them yourself. They also have a strong sexual nature and view it as an essential aspect of the relationship. They have various desires and kinks, and they envision exploring them with you. While they see you as an equal, they also feel a need to protect you. You may notice that they instinctively position themselves in front of you, acting as a shield, especially when you're out in public or among strangers.

One of their most endearing qualities is their generosity. They don't consider money when it comes to buying things for you. If you ask for something, they will purchase it for you, especially if they have the means to do so. Even if they are wealthy, they won't hesitate to buy whatever brings you joy, regardless of the price. They also have a deep love for their work and are highly dedicated to it. They are constantly seeking ways to improve and make changes in their professional life, always planning for the future. Their physical appearance is important to them, and they take great care to maintain a clean and groomed appearance, including regular haircuts, showers, and clean nails. You find their beauty captivating, and you are particularly drawn to their romantic nature. Even when you try to play hard to get, you can't resist their declarations of love.

However, you may struggle to fully accept that they have experienced happiness with others in the past. Even if you have a stable relationship, you may find yourself comparing yourself to their previous partners and feeling inadequate because you didn't have the opportunity to share those moments with them. They may also have family connections or privileges that you envy, such as being from an influential family or inheriting generations of secrets and traditions. Furthermore, they may have greater financial stability than you, which can make you feel as though you constantly have to work hard for everything while they effortlessly thrive. While your family may readily accept them, their family may not be as accepting of you.

They will teach you the importance of staying true to yourself, even during the most challenging times. They will encourage you to remain faithful to both people and your beliefs, and to never lose faith. They will inspire you to cultivate strength in all aspects of your life, including your mental and physical well-being. They will help you learn to love and accept yourself as you truly are, embracing your flaws and working on self-improvement while breaking free from any psychological constraints you may have developed over time.

If you practice divination, they will be your most frequent client. They are willing to pay for your services but also genuinely value the insights you provide. They enjoy engaging in religious and mystical activities with you, whether it's attending church or participating in a witches' congregation. They also have an affinity for aquariums and may even desire to have a fish that you can care for together or enjoy going fishing as a shared activity. They particularly relish engaging in more challenging sexual positions. Sometimes, they find pleasure in simply gazing at you, admiring your presence, especially when you're immersed in something you enjoy.

They admire the way you bring humor and fun into serious moments, even when maintaining a more serious posture. Your sarcasm holds a special appeal to them. They also appreciate how you take charge of situations, confidently asserting yourself and becoming a commanding presence in times of high stress. You lead when things seem dire and dark, but once they improve, you pass the leadership role to someone else. They admire your personal history and achievements, often considering your accomplishments to be unimaginable for anyone else. They enjoy witnessing moments when you proudly share your successes and enthusiastically discuss your past or future plans. Your constant dreaming and pursuit of fulfilling your desires resonate with them. They also appreciate your inclination to help others, whether through your profession or in your daily interactions.

When you're feeling down, they are quick to make tea or prepare a remedy passed down from their mother, who seemingly has a cure for every kind of pain. In more serious situations, they have the car keys in hand, ready to take you to the doctor or hospital if necessary. They are willing to engage in conversations to understand if you're facing psychological or emotional challenges, offering support. If it appears that you require professional assistance, they will accompany you and ensure you receive the necessary help, even if it means spending the entire day at appointments.

They envision a future where you excel in your chosen field, or at the very least, gain significant recognition. They are always eager to learn something new and plan to take courses well into their 70s. They will encourage you to join them on this learning journey. They aspire to become an exceptional teacher or mentor in their field, and as they near the end of their life, their primary desire is to impart knowledge and educate others. They hope that you will either teach alongside them or attend all their classes. They also express a strong desire to have children, and the number of children they envision having depends entirely on your preference. Whether it's one, two, three, four, or more, the decision is ultimately yours. They see the two of you remaining youthful at heart, always striving to bring joy to the world in some way.

Their dominant or passive nature tends to fluctuate depending on the situation. Sometimes, they have no strong opinions and allow you to take charge entirely, while in other instances, they may argue their perspective and strive to do things their way. However, they are skilled at making you believe that they are doing what you want, when in reality, it was their plan all along. They are not inclined to use verbal aggression or engage in direct confrontation. Instead, they persistently pursue their own interests until they achieve their desired outcome.

Occasionally, they can experience outbursts of anger, saying and doing things that are uncharacteristic of their usual nature. They may bring up past mistakes and faults, casting you as a bad person. These moments of anger typically last for a brief period, perhaps one or two minutes, before they regain control and retreat. They often apologize swiftly after such episodes. It's worth noting that they may get over the issue quickly while you're still upset. Over time, they will engage in fewer fights, but in the initial stages of the relationship, there may be some heated arguments.

They have a significant ego, which leads them to hesitate when it comes to expressing gratitude towards you. However, deep down, they truly appreciate you. They may express gratitude if you initiate it first, and it must always be reciprocal. If you haven't praised them on a given day, they won't praise you either. Nevertheless, they genuinely value your presence and believe that you have brought immense happiness into their life. Particularly if you have children together, they will take great pride in being a parent and become extremely protective, especially if they have daughters. They are aware of everything you do for them and feel grateful, but don't expect constant reminders from them.

They tend to share their secrets only once everything is planned and in motion. They will confide in you about their plans after they have already made the necessary preparations. They may seek emotional support from you or, if you happen to be someone who practices divination, they may inquire about what the future holds. However, they are reserved by nature and prefer not to divulge everything. They believe in maintaining individuality, as knowing every detail about each other's lives can diminish the sense of excitement and mystery.

Their connection with spirituality and their mother has changed since they met you. Perhaps they didn't have a strong bond with their mother before, but with you in their life, they now view her differently. They have also become more romantic and affectionate in general, influenced by your presence. They are willing to make rational changes in various aspects of their life, such as changing colleges if they are dissatisfied, but when it comes to emotional matters and personal convictions, they are more resistant to change. While you have altered their worldview to some extent, not all aspects have undergone transformation.

Jealousy is not a significant issue for them when it comes to you. If you have children, they may feel more protective of the kids rather than being jealous of you. They appreciate your free-spirited nature, recognizing that children don't have the same level of freedom. If they do happen to experience jealousy, they might engage in activities related to the sea as a means of coping. For example, they may take you out to eat seafood, either because you enjoy it or as a way for them to destress.

Communication is more important to them than physical affection. They are skilled in the art of seduction but don't expect movie-style kisses every time. They enjoy giving you kisses, but they tend to be more gentle and playful rather than deep and intense. They take pleasure in teasing you until you're the one who initiates the kiss. It's possible that your first kiss could happen in a movie theater or as a result of their playful teasing.

To confess their love, they would recreate the most romantic scenes from a movie. They are the type to present you with a bouquet of roses, or perhaps strawberry and chocolate ones, along with a box of chocolates and a heartfelt love letter. They have a fondness for writing letters, and it's possible that they have written many letters about you, even if they were never sent.

Marriage is something they contemplate. Although they may have believed for a long time that it wasn't necessary, at some point, they will change their mind and desire to get married. Perhaps if one of you becomes pregnant, you'll both feel the urge to prepare for marriage before the baby is born. The proposal may be a simple moment of sitting on the couch, looking into each other's eyes, and asking, "Is it time to get married?" with both of you agreeing and proceeding to plan the wedding. They would prefer to have a family member officiate the ceremony, and the location is not as important to them, but they will invite a large number of guests.

During intimate moments, they use various affectionate nicknames that I cannot explicitly mention here. However, in non-sexual contexts, they may call you treasure, queen, mermaid, jewel, lioness, warrior, gladiator, gypsy, or hippie.

They have a tendency to gaze at you with longing, as if they can't take their eyes off you, even though they might deny it. They may avert their gaze, but it's apparent that they are watching you. Others may notice this because they can't stop looking at you—it's their way of showing their affection. They also enjoy assisting with physically demanding tasks that involve heavy lifting, as it allows them to showcase their strength for you. However, they may not explicitly confess their love for you.

They are not inclined to display affection openly, as they believe you could stay at home where no one else can see you. They are reserved when it comes to showing public displays of affection and prefer to keep such moments private.

They know how to take care of children, and for some reason, kids tend to get along well with them. It may seem like the children prefer them over you. They possess knowledge about condoms; that's all I have to say on the matter. They are also highly creative and full of energy, often waking up early and encouraging you to start the day early as well. They are an early bird.

In everyday life, they aren't particularly romantic, and you may even find them to be a bit distant at times. They express romantic gestures when they feel like it, and if they don't feel the inclination, they won't engage in such acts. However, they are quite generous when it comes to allowing you to sleep, especially if you enjoy it. They will let you stay in bed for as long as you need. They also enjoy taking short walks at night or going out for dinner.

They are the person who believes in your dreams and goals the most. When you feel tired or discouraged, they will be the one to uplift your spirits. If you hold meetings, they want to be involved, even if they aren't an employee. They are also quite helpful with accounting, writing, and every strategic aspect of your plans.

They appreciate routine and knowing what's happening on a daily basis. However, they also enjoy a bit of mystery and occasional surprises. They need to go out and do something together at least once a month, whether it's visiting a museum, going to a park, or watching a movie. The activity may vary, but they prioritize spending quality time together at least once a month.

They have a knack for learning secrets and staying informed about gossip, even more than they let on. That's why they may know a lot about you from your mother or other people, rather than directly from your own mouth. They might be the type to say, "Yes, your mother already told me that." They are attentive to your material needs, such as knowing when you'll have your period and ensuring you have an ample supply of pads. However, they may not be as attuned to your emotional needs, so you'll need to communicate with them about that.

They view being by your side as a great opportunity. They appreciate that you allocate some of your precious time to them, and they cherish those moments. They understand that they are a part of your life but not the entirety of it, and that's why they have immense respect for you. They see the relationship as an avenue for self-expression and an opportunity to open up with someone they can trust.

They tried to grow out their hair when they were younger, but it didn't work out for them. They also experimented with dyeing their hair, but that didn't work either. They have experienced being dumped multiple times, although they keep that information to themselves.

When it comes to displaying affection, they are a very discreet person. They prefer to show their affection when you're alone together, leaning against you and finding opportunities to have their hand somewhere, particularly on your thigh while driving. They have a fondness for your hair, and if you ask, they will gladly help comb it.

When you're apart or when they miss you, they have a tendency to travel somewhere else or spend time at their mother's house, and perhaps even yours.

They are the type of person who would be willing to change their religion for you, but they would not compromise their core beliefs and convictions. There are many things that they hold steadfastly to. They would also be open to changing countries if necessary.

Pile 3 - Someday My Prince Will Come

It's important for you to take a break from actively seeking your true love and soul mate. Instead, familiarize yourself with the "Law of Attraction" and understand that constantly imagining and wishing for their arrival won't necessarily make it happen. By fixating on finding them, you only increase your anxiety and stress. It's crucial to focus on your own life, pursue activities and interests unrelated to romantic pursuits, explore different subjects, engage with people from diverse backgrounds, and patiently wait for the right moment to come.

They exude a youthful and energetic aura, often appearing younger than their actual age. They have a playful and childlike nature. Their expressive mouth and nose tend to catch attention. Their fashion sense may be considered unconventional or quirky, but they embrace it. From the moment you meet, you'll feel drawn to them and desire closeness.

They are a free-spirited individual who relishes in traveling, meeting new people, trying new activities, and embarking on adventures. They have a penchant for dating but haven't experienced a lasting relationship yet. At first glance, they may resemble a charming prince, but they are not. They are not inherently bad, but they greatly value their freedom.

You may encounter them in various situations such as street fights, workplace conflicts, store quarrels, while shopping for sports or camping gear, or during competitions at work or school, as well as in team-building activities or camping trips.

Your relationship with them is likely to commence in early spring or during the month of March.

They will experience jealousy towards you and won't appreciate others getting involved with you. In the beginning, they may not take the relationship seriously, leading them to go out with you and other people simultaneously. For them, if the relationship isn't official, they don't feel the need for commitment. They aren't inclined to share their belongings freely. You will find that you have contrasting opinions on many matters, and they will frequently express fear of being betrayed. They harbor significant insecurities regarding love.

You'll particularly appreciate their appearance and presence in bed. It's undeniable. Additionally, you're drawn to their ability to construct and deconstruct things, persisting and remaking projects if needed. If they were a draftsman, you could envision their room filled with crumpled and torn papers as they persistently try again. They're a source of constant surprises, always revealing something new and unexpected when you least anticipate it.

However, you'll struggle to come to terms with the fact that they likely cheated on you early in the relationship, an experience that will linger in your memory. You'll also find yourself waiting for hours when you make plans together because they're always late. During challenging times, you'll often feel a sense of loneliness, as their support may not meet your expectations.

On the other hand, they will teach you the importance of self-love and valuing yourself. They'll guide you in nurturing your beauty and femininity, and they'll encourage you to be independent and proactive rather than relying on others. They'll remind you that you hold responsibilities for many aspects of your life and the people around you. They'll inspire faith and respect for your own cycles. They'll help you tap into your productivity and creativity.

They enjoy going out to eat with you or simply relaxing at home without any worries. They appreciate working together in group settings, be it in a professional environment, volunteering, or academia. They find pleasure in building furniture and engaging in crafting activities alongside you. They also enjoy going shopping with you.

They hold deep admiration for your diligent work ethic and your ability to manage your finances. They appreciate your dedication and unwavering conviction in pursuing your goals with passion. They notice how you radiate youthfulness, simplicity, and innocence despite the complexity of life. Your vibrant and joyful energy leaves a lasting impression.

When you're not feeling well, they typically give you some space to reflect and gather your thoughts. If there's a way for them to offer assistance, they'll show care and attentiveness, albeit maintaining a slight distance while being present during challenging times.

They envision a future filled with ups and downs, challenges, and difficulties. Despite the potential hurdles, both of you are working together and supporting one another to overcome obstacles and make things work. They have a belief in fate, trusting that whatever is meant to happen will unfold naturally, so they don't worry too much about the future. They have a sense of being protected in the future, as if things will work out fine no matter what, desiring a happy future but not dwelling on it.

They have a chaotic nature, which means they may try to dominate if not controlled, but if you can establish control, they become more passive. They enjoy venturing into new experiences but won't complain if you take the initiative to plan activities. In fact, they appreciate it as it helps them relax.

They easily forgive and forget, leaving the past behind as another story. They are focused on living in the present, addressing issues as they arise, and moving on. During conflicts, they remain quiet and observe, asking at the end, "Done? Did you calm down?"

They are deeply grateful for your help and acknowledge that you have made them wiser and more patient. They recognize the impact you've had on their personal growth and maturity, and they aim to reciprocate this favor in the future. As the years go by, they will be increasingly present in your life. Initially, relating to each other may be challenging, but this relationship is a joint construction between the two of you.

They will openly share every aspect of their life with you. Initially, it may be frustrating because they lack a filter, unaware of what should or shouldn't be said. Consequently, they express the whole truth in an abrupt and direct manner. Over time, they will improve their communication skills and become more mindful of their words. They will refrain from making fun of your haircut, even if they don't particularly like it. They will learn to adapt and be more considerate.

Through the course of your relationship, both of you will undergo significant personal growth, often catalyzed by painful experiences. You will confront fears and traumas together, making efforts to heal and overcome them. It will be a journey of discovering and addressing problems and traumas as a team.

They experience jealousy and tend to express it in a passive-aggressive manner. Instead of directly communicating their feelings, they try to make you understand through subtle actions and distancing themselves when jealous.

Their kisses are often romantic, characterized by a slow and passionate exchange. They prefer to savor the moment and engage in unhurried experiences. During these intimate times, they desire to fully immerse themselves in the present. The first kiss between you two might occur while under the influence of alcohol, with neither of you remembering the details.

They might express their affection for you after spending a night together, usually when they are tired and sleepy. However, they won't repeat what they said the next day, nor will they deny it. They will carry on as if nothing happened. They will only confess their feelings after you have already expressed your liking for them; they are too insecure to be the first to say "I love you."

In a spontaneous moment following a fight, they may propose marriage as a way to reconcile. This proposal will be impulsive and unfiltered, happening on the spot. While it's not their dream scenario, they view it as a compromise. They envision a simple and intimate wedding, perhaps in a country setting or on a beach, with close family and a few acquaintances. They prefer a wedding that is comfortable and unpretentious. You may also have the tradition of throwing rice at the newlyweds after the ceremony.

Some nicknames they might affectionately call you include: treasure, empress, devil, baby, baby girl/boy, sweetie, and nervous.

When they are interested in someone, they tend to talk to others to seek assistance in getting closer to you. They are unafraid to flirt openly and shamelessly. However, if you are oblivious to their advances, you may not notice their flirtatious behavior. To demonstrate their affection, they enjoy attending music shows and purchasing items together. Music plays a significant role in their life, and their most prized possessions could be musical instruments or CDs.

They are straightforward when it comes to relationships and may even suggest an open relationship. They act on their desires whenever they feel the impulse, regardless of the context. If they want to kiss you in front of your parents, they will do so without hesitation. They dislike conventional norms and are attracted to unconventional aspects in relationships. They enjoy taking risks.

Having worked as a bartender in the past, they possess knowledge of crafting various drinks. They also have a keen intuition and can often sense events before they occur. They feel a strong spiritual protection, which makes them believe that even in the face of a fatal accident, they will survive. They are self-aware and acknowledge both their positive and negative aspects. Additionally, they have a knack for detecting lies.

They have a great belief in you and dream even bigger than you do, sometimes to the point of being overly idealistic. For example, if you mention wanting to buy a house, they might question why you don't desire a mansion. Emotionally, they provide support and discuss dreams and desires. They may even pray for those dreams to come true. However, when it comes to taking action, they may claim not to know how to fulfill those desires if you ask them to do something.

They have a great belief in you and dream even bigger than you do, sometimes to the point of being overly idealistic. For example, if you mention wanting to buy a house, they might question why you don't desire a mansion. Emotionally, they provide support and discuss dreams and desires. They may even pray for those dreams to come true. However, when it comes to taking action, they may claim not to know how to fulfill those desires if you ask them to do something.

They have a tendency to provoke small conflicts in order to add spice to the relationship, finding excitement in the act of arguing (especially if they are a man). Most of the time, their routine remains unchanged, as they are naturally chaotic. However, their actions become predictable over time, and their behavior can become mundane. They have a strong need for social interaction and value having a circle of friends. They also have a desire to have a pet in the home.

They possess a great deal of empathy and can often explain your emotions even before you fully comprehend them yourself. They have a deep understanding of the emotional realm and are not afraid of diving into this domain. They will express their emotions while also comprehending yours. In times of uncertainty, they provide valuable assistance by helping you discover what truly brings you happiness. They can also recognize your facial expressions, even if you try to conceal your intentions.

The relationship you share is something they desired and patiently awaited, a wish that has now come true. They lead a faith-driven life, praying and seeking assistance when in need, without strictly adhering to religious dogma. Nevertheless, their prayers have been answered, and having this relationship was one of those answered prayers. Despite occasionally placing the relationship in the background, it remains one of their pillars and a source of security. They are not inclined to take an active role in the relationship because they believe that everything is always fine. Therefore, if you have any issues or dislikes, it is important for you to be proactive and express what you don't like, along with the best way to address it. Otherwise, things may remain the same because no one knows how to bring about the necessary changes.

They are very fond of games and casinos, having spent a significant amount of money on them, including video game loot boxes. It's possible they may have developed an addiction to these activities. They have a history of cheating in games and possess extensive knowledge of cheating methods to secure victories.

In terms of displaying affection, they have a particular fondness for food. When they are extremely happy, they enjoy feeding you or sharing food with you. They have expectations for reciprocation, meaning if they show you affection, they anticipate receiving something in return. They also take pleasure in twirling your hair between their fingers and touching your hair and/or head. Additionally, they have a tendency to give small trinkets and beauty products as gifts.

When they miss you or when you need to be away for a while, they often question what they did wrong to contribute to the situation. They blame themselves for any distance between you, even if it's due to work commitments. This self-blame may lead to insomnia and excessive rumination. They may isolate themselves and prefer not to spend time with others.

Despite their childlike nature, they would go to great lengths for you. While they may not go as far as cutting off a limb, they would be willing to donate a kidney for you. They would even quit drinking if you asked them to. In summary, they would do anything to earn your acceptance and make you happy.

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[lilibethwrites]

The Love Given Unsought

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

In a last-ditch effort to save the realm, Rhaenyra and Alicent half-heartedly agreed to wed their children. Y/N Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen, would be escorted to King’s Landing to marry her nephew, Aemond Targaryen. An unsuitable couple, if there ever was one. Though Gods were the most entertained when blazing hate turned to red-hot love. 

Warning: smut (rough-ish sex), incest

Word Count: 5920

Dragonstone became your home years back. The only relic of your youth spent in King’s Landing was your dragon, which hatched alongside Alicent’s children. Aegon was a close friend back then, certainly more tolerable than his younger brother, Aemond. And Helaena was family to you. So, when it came to naming your eggs, you followed after them and named yours Moonfyre.

 You were flying low, almost in hearing distance, on a clear morning when Rhaenyra’s own guard rushed to the courtyard. He was jumping up and down to catch your attention, his heavy and intricate armour riding up to his neck with each heave of his hands as he breathlessly shouted up.

 “Princess! Princess, pray land! Your mother demands an urgent audience! Princess!”

 To say that you took your beauty from Rhaenyra and the mischief from Daemon was an understatement.

 You weren’t heartless, though. Perhaps not so much an inheritance from your parents but from spending your days and evenings under your oldest half-brother, Jacaerys’s influence. So, you landed.

 “What is it? Did father upset her again? Am I to play the mediator?”

 Your riding coat was well-sewn with dragon scales on the shoulders and cuffs which blended seamlessly with the same pattern on your gloves. You took them off with your teeth despite your mother’s warning in the back of your mind, and stuffed them under your belt as you made your way to the throne room.

 Rhaenyra sat—slumped on a chair, her head hanging low. Daemon was unlike himself as well, with his back turned to you and his face to the tall fireplace.

 “What is it? I am beginning to worry.”

 “Sit,” Daemon spoke first.

 Rhaenyra only inhaled, playing with the crumpled corners of written correspondence in her hands.

 “I have news that concern you, Y/N.”

 “Mother, if this is about spilling ink on the Septa, I promise it was not my intention and Luke saw—”

 “You are to be wed to Prince Aemond,” Rhaenyra spoke slowly, emphasizing each word solemnly.

 You laughed incredulously at first, without joy nor shock. Your fingers were attempting to tear the plush velvet from the handles of the chair.

 “What?” Silence.

 Then you turned to Daemon, who only gave you a pitying look and a nod.

 “No—no, no, no! This is—this is not possible!” You jumped to your feet, pacing up and down the room.

 “No! I will not! I would sooner die than to— to—“ It was difficult even to utter it.

 “If this is because I declined the marriage to that Stark boy, I shall marry him—but—”

 “The boy is upset beyond recompense. You did not reject him, you insulted him,” Daemon reminded you that perhaps your refusal could have been more politically convenient. Or, that the boy couldn’t handle rejection.

 “No matter. I will fly to Winterfell. I will bear gifts and offer my sincerest apologies! I will—” you clutched Rhaenyra’s hand, begging to no avail.

 “You will do no such thing. You will, however, marry Prince Aemond.”

 Locking yourself in your chamber and refusing supper, the untouched trays that came and went, and even neglecting Moonfyre, who sat riderless for many turns of the moon did not move Rhaenyra. She didn’t budge, not for a lack of love for her daughter, but from oppressive desperation that tied her hands.

 Soon, a few seamstresses were escorted to your chamber, you were pulled out of your bed and measured for your wedding gown. Across the fog, in King’s Landing, your groom—the bane of your days since Rhaenyra’s announcement, was just as lacking in thrill as you.

 Queen Alicent attempted her best to persuade Aemond into showing you warmth and kindness once you landed; promising him that you were both once young and ignorant, but that you, his bride-to-be, have grown into a formidable young Princess, and Aemond was a charming Prince himself.

 “I was never once charming to her. Not even before I—“ Aemond cleared his throat as a tailor measured his shoulders once more, jotting down numbers and going back to the piles of black fabric Alicent sifted through.

 The night Aemond lost his eye, you were there. Upon King Viserys’s questioning, you defended your brother—at the cost of dishonesty and throwing Aemond to the wolves. You were never close, but that night tore you apart with a rift that never quite healed. You were only a child, but you were conscious enough when you exclaimed that losing an eye did not change Aemond, as he could not get any more unpleasant to look at.

 Though he grew taller and handsome, more handsome than all the knights and lords and princes that you have seen come and go at Dragonstone and Red Keep, and you regretted that one silly remark in your rocky friendship the most.

 His handsome face and tall stature did not stop you from throwing fits, ripping the seams of the gown and threatening your mother with slit wrists. Likewise, Aemond was firm in his belief that your beauty meant very little when you behaved like a Dornish barbarian.

 Aemond didn’t get along with your half-siblings and for a good reason. Daemon was too unpredictable to be trusted with a pact as delicate as this one, so it fell to Rhaenyra to escort you to your doom, your gilded cage with a predator inside it.

 Queen Alicent and your mother were apprehensive at first, but quickly rekindled their old friendship. Aemond by Alicent’s side, and you on Rhaenyra’s, however, stared daggers at one another. To a less informed onlooker, you seemed more like two slaves bought at the Flea Bottom and pitted against one another in a duel until death.

 Aemond had his hand squeezed into a fist, he stood tall and straight. He was handsome, indeed, but you’d rather marry anyone but him nevertheless. He eyed you up and down once he made sure you were distracted with Alicent’s compliments. The fleeting, lopsided smirk on his lips was long gone by the time Alicent let go of the hug.

 “Greet him,” Rhaenyra nudged you quietly. You only shook your head.

 Aemond proved himself to be the bigger man as when Alicent’s hand left his arm he took a deep breath and welcomed you back to King’s Landing.

 “Thank you, Prince Aemond.” You weren’t going to call him your husband. Your mother shook Alicent’s hand, you did not have a say in the matter.

 You stubbornly seated yourself between Aegon and Helaena come supper time. Aegon seemed sunken and less lively than when you left him, but Helaena’s companionship always put a genuine smile on your face.

 “Tell me more, Y/N.”

 “For the Seven’s sake, sister. Let Y/N drain her cup first,” Aegon protested, dismissing the servant to fill your cup himself.

 The banter and the laughter brought you back to your childhood—the awful reality of your pending marriage almost fled your mind, that was, until your eyes traced a faint tapping sound to Aemond’s fingers on the table. Then, you met his displeased gaze trained upon you.

 You didn’t know him enough, perhaps no one at the table did, to know that his huffs and roll of his eye were less displeasure at your sight and more jealousy that his no-good brother would be more interesting to you than him.

 “A tribute! To our families, to Princess Rhaenyra and Princess Y/N. And to the blessed marriage that is to come!” Alicent rose from her seat, Rhaenyra herself raising her cup with delight.

 “Hear, hear!” Aegon was sarcastic as ever.

 Helaena clapped excitedly. Neither you nor Aemond raised your cups, which did not go unnoticed by your parents.

 “A dance, then,” Rhaenyra suggested. She sounded unassuming to everyone at the table but you. You knew her anger was brewing at your disobedience. “Perhaps the bride and groom-to-be will take the lead.”

 “Yes, mother,” you forced a smile. “Certainly.”

 You did not grace Aemond with the courtesy of waiting for him nor did you spare him a glance. He wasn’t quite keen on pulling your chair or taking you by the hand, either. You simply dragged your feet to the corner of the room, and soon strutted Aemond toward you.

 He reached for your waist with the tact of a knight handling his prisoner.

 “You have not changed,” he whispered. You haven’t changed towards me, was what he rather meant.

 “Neither have you. Still haven’t grown an eye, either.”

 He scoffed. “I have no need for it.”

 “Then perhaps Jace should take this turn, cut out the remaining one.”

 “And I shall remain unchallenged by your strong brothers yet—but I shall also remain in their debt that I will not have to look upon your unpleasant face.”

 Gods, he was insufferable.

 “I shall never submit to you.”

 “I expected as much.”

 “At least you shall be free to pursue your whores.”

 “My interests lie elsewhere. I leave the… baser endeavours to my brother.”

 “I suppose even coins and titles cannot buy you love. Not even for a night.”

 The music came to a stop and the table applauded your dance. Aemond was left to bite his lip over what he meant to retort.

 The days leading up to the wedding ceremony were painfully slow but somehow went by incredibly fast at once. Aemond avoided you as much as he could and you did the same.

 Your handmaid from Dragonstone was your chief lady-in-waiting, and the years of bond you have formed over her service and company was the sole reason you did not go for her throat when she woke you up before the sun rose.

 “My Princess. Your bath is drawn. The royal seamstresses shall be here to dress you soon.”

 At the opposite end of the wing, Prince Aemond was already up as it was customary of him. He was sitting in a tub of his own, watching the birchwood burn up in the freshly lit fireplace.

 His coat, black with gold buttons and a high yoke of emerald velvet, was laid out on his bed. A cape of black silk, trimmed with the same velvet and embroidered with golden thread was neatly folded and sitting on his pillows.

 Your dress was of heavy silk and brocade. Yards and yards of white silk and satin, hand embroidered with black and red threads in vines and flowers entangled in delicate dragon motifs was your skirt. The bodice had the scales of your dragon, the same as your riding coat but in white satin instead. The sleeves were laced up at the shoulders where a cape of your own was attached to the dress as well.

 Your silver-white hair was delicately combed with a heated brush, braided and twisted into a bun with golden clasps in the shape of dragon heads while Aemond’s was loosely braided into a half-up at the request of Alicent.

 You sobbed at first, the big gown sat as a heavy shroud on your shoulders. Then your tears dried and your brows furrowed as you resolved on a quiet oath that Aemond would find not an obedient wife but a stubborn menace in you.  

 Alicent was by Aemond’s side as he stood still, the heavy cape draping down from his shoulder as the servants walked in circles around him, looking for a minute crease they might have missed.

 “Treat Y/N with the care and respect she commands.”

 “Which is none.”

 “She is a Princess. The Gods look down upon any many who mistreats a woman, much more so a wife.”

 “Speak it plainly, mother,” Aemond shrugged off the hands patting down on his coat.

 “Your concern is to avoid a war—a war I could win for you alone. Declare it and I shall win it in a turn of the moon. Then we can be done with this far—”

 In an impulsive act that surprised both the Queen and her son, Alicent struck Aemond across the face.

 “Watch your tongue. Your father does not have long, and the chaos his death might plunge us all into is not a war that you can simply hop on your dragon and win. So, you will marry Y/N and you will show her the respect she commands.”

 “And she will do the same to me, mother? Hm? The Princess who would once have me questioned sharply—tortured— as I sat with a Maester’s needle in my eye? The Princess who so scorned me to torment me at every chance?” Aemond’s voice was dripped in venom.

 “You were both young. This is a new beginning. For you both.”

 “That it is,” Aemond repeated. A chance to do over, to do unto his nephew what she once did and got away with.

 The ceremony was a disappointment: your groom took away the only silver lining you had hoped to find in the situation. Where you had hoped Aemond to fidget and stumble, and appear as a crude warrior out of place and out of his depth, he walked in as a proper Prince. He carried himself impeccably, stood tall and behaved as if he had cut his teeth on royal engagements.

 He stood next to you with his face trained on the Septon who invoked the Seven Gods to bless and officiate your unity.

 “I cannot wait to drive a dagger into your throat,” you whispered.

 “Hm. You would impress me if you could manage.”

 “You are flesh and blood like everyone else, Aemond.”

 “Yes. But you are a clumsy, spoiled brat. Do you require a servant to cut your stea—"

 “I’m a dragon rider!” You whisper-shouted with your hands bound with his by a rag dipped in scented oil. You did behave as a petulant child save for the stomping of your feet.

 He was good. So far, he managed to infuriate you more than you could rile him up.

 “A joy rider, perhaps. Do you think yourself a knight? Visenya reborn?”

 “Are you a knight? Ser Criston is a tourney knight now and that is all you will ever be.”

 He scoffed. No man was impenetrable, you simply had to find Aemond’s weakness.

 “And that is more than you could say for yourself, wife.”

 The feast that followed drew lords and ladies seeking the King’s favour from all six corners of the realm like flies to a bloody carcass. You were seated next to Aemond, and with a smile that never grew larger or faded away plastered on your face, you accepted the good wishes for your marriage. May the Gods smile upon your union and may your womb be filled with many sons in spades, but not enough may you find the strength not to strangle Aemond in his slumber.

 “This is a bore,” you mumbled mostly to yourself, playing with the venison pie on your silver plate. Though what usually followed wedding feasts was not much to look forward to, either.

 “You must feel right at home, then,” Aemond leaned in to whisper with an equally false smile of his own.

 His scent—oils of herbs and spices—lingered for a moment after he pulled away, returning his attention to the cup of wine he nursed.

 The deal Queen Alicent struck displeased Aemond greatly, but what truly disturbed him was the fact that there were thoughts floating around in his mind that he couldn’t banish. He truly despised himself for finding you beautiful; more beautiful than he expected you to grow to be, and beautiful in a way that eerily resembled him of the kind of woman he designed in his mind with his hand down in his breeches on a lazy evening.

 You also thought you could do worse. Aemond was a thorn in your side, but to say that he was easy on your eyes was a grave understatement. Maybe you even preferred him to Aegon now, though it irritated you to think that you would prefer Aemond to anything. Despite his impeccable looks and velvet voice in your ear, he was still Aemond, after all.

 “The hour grows late. We must permit the newlywed Prince and the Princess to retreat for some quiet,” Alicent announced.

 That was a virtuous way to phrase that you needed to consummate your marriage. The guests were eager either to depart for their journey back home or retreat to their chambers around the castle, as well.

 Ser Criston personally escorted you to the chamber that you would share as man and wife. Truth be told, it was thrice as big as your chamber back at Dragonstone, but you felt thrice as trapped, too. The heavy doors creaked close behind the Kingsguard, and you found yourself standing with Aemond, staring at him without a bother to conceal it and him doing the same in return.

 “So… what now?” You hoped to end the uncomfortable silence, though your question did not start a conversation either of you would find comfortable.

 “You know what. I am to bed you, and I suspect there are at least a few ears pressed to the walls expecting for it to happen at any moment.”

 His attempt at humour caught you off guard. You stopped loosening your braids for a moment and gave him a hearty chuckle. Aemond despised that he liked it, and utterly hated knowing that he would pursue more of it.

 “Well, best not keep them waiting then.”

 “Well, moan away as you wish, then,” Aemond gestured to the door, removing himself from between you and the carved heavy wood.

 “You will not bed me?” Were you… disappointed? Disappointed to find that perhaps Aemond couldn’t even get it up, of course.

 “I won’t torture you, no,” he spoke with his face buried in a heavy book in High Valyrian.

 “Aemond. It’s… Not my desire, but it must be done nevertheless.” For tradition, or for you?

 Aemond marked the middle of a sentence with his finger, considering your proposal with his bottom lip sucked under his teeth. He didn’t like that his animosity toward you was diluted with fear so soon—fear that he might change his mind about you if you were ever intimate with him.

 “Very well, then,” he discarded the book and his nimble fingers went for the buttons of his coat as he got up.

 The headache the tight braids coiled together brought you subsided as you let your hair down, massaging your scalp with your fingers. He watched you run your fingers through the loose waves that cascaded down to your shoulders.

 “Help me with the back. The ties,” you gestured toward your back where the bodice was fastened with silk ribbons.

 Strange enough, you felt comfortable around him when you expected to be nothing but tense. Aemond, perhaps thanks to wine, seemed more amiable than what was usual of him. He only nodded with a hum and stepped close to carefully unlace the bodice.

 There wasn’t much in the way of intimacy. You seemed like friends rather than a couple, but that was better than enemies all the same.

 Aemond returned to undressing himself. With his coat off and undershirt open to reveal his chest, he was as if he materialized out of the pages of one of your romances. He caught you staring only because he’d already been doing it himself.

 His body alone told you just how rigorously he trained with the way his chest and abdomen were shaped like stone carved with love and precision. The veins in his arms popped with each twist and turn of his hand as he stepped out of the remainder of his clothes.

 Aemond stood in front of you dressed only in the warm light of the candles. Your arms wrapped around your chest in a futile attempt for comfort. It wasn’t so much that you were naked but that the intense, unflickering look in his eye was trained on your face. His icy blue eye cut your skin, layer by layer, with each heavy blink.

 “I hate you, Aemond,” you whispered, unsure if you hated him or yourself more for considering there might be an alternative to how you felt about him.

 “And I you, Princess.”

 So far, your wedding night was nothing tender and romantic as you used to imagine it would be. But, Aemond didn’t make it into a torturous nightmare as you feared, either. So, he neither pushed or pulled you around nor did he sweep you off your feet and carried you to the bed. You laid down unceremoniously and he climbed after you with his hands on both sides of your head to keep his body from crushing yours.

 “We do not have to do this.”

 “We do, Aemond. We are expected to produce babes.”

 He nodded, dutiful as ever. It was terrifying for him to imagine that he would have you beneath him so often while attempting to remain cold and distant to you. He hoped that thinking of the deed as part of his responsibility, an act stripped of its emotions and intimacy might ease the turmoil of his heart and head.

 He stared at you for a moment, taking in the curve of your brows, your eyes heavy-lidded from a tiring day of ceremonies and a feast (and not from lust, surely), your hair splayed out on the pillow, and your lips parted to seduce him into tasting them.

 So, he leaned down, but the sudden turn of your head led his lips to close around your neck instead. He looked up, confused.

 “Don’t,” you spoke softly, avoiding his gaze. “Kisses are for lovers alone.”

 You didn’t strike him as the kind of woman to esteem acts of devotion as anything other than carnal necessities. Perhaps you were gracefully turning him down in particular, that kisses weren’t for lovers alone, but they weren’t for Aemond the One-Eye, either. He wouldn’t blame you. Even behind the safety of the eyepatch, he assumed he was a sight not many lusted after.

 Aemond didn’t concern himself with your pleasure or comfort after that. Not because he resented you but because he resented the cruel tapestry the Gods weaved you and him into—at least not at the moment. He didn’t concern himself with his own pleasure either.

 He bowed his head and gave himself a few strokes—that was all it took for his cock to jolt in his hand, and it was enough to accomplish his duty. He has done this countless times before. It was a matter of economy of time and effort for Aemond: a way to quickly relieve himself before slumber or in the morning before practice. He turned sour, then. If it was affection you so despised, it was antipathy you would get. He was all too familiar with taking care of his urges without passion.

 He guided his cock into your folds—he was considerate enough to go slow, though his size and lack of preparation did not make the stretch any less uncomfortable. You squirmed, and he dug his fingers into your hips to still you. He was in bed as he was outside it: a quiet fury ruled over him and misled you into challenging him to a losing battle each time.

 Your defiance, which typically led your parents and peers into abrupt combustions of rage, did not seem to affect Aemond much. The abrasive, quick-witted and sharp-tongued man played along to every show of stiff-necked impertinence you tested him with. It was as if you did not matter to him enough to elicit a response that pulled a muscle in his face.

 Aemond maintained a consistent, idle rhythm. His hips rolled into you while his eye was shut tight, partially obscured by the silvery-white hair that fell on his face with each bow of his head. His face was fixed in an expressionless cast, and he showed no sign of satisfaction except for an occasional sharp inhale. You could easily replace the sound of skin hitting on skin with the clash of the swords, though it likely would have elicited more response from your husband than steadily working your cunt.

 You closed your eyes as well and let out a moan that would have sounded false even to a naive stablehand.

 “Gods, Aegon! Aegon…”

 Aemond stilled with his cock buried deep inside you. His riposte did not miss a beat.

 “Juvenile as ever. You do this on purpose.”

 His tone was flat—whatever annoyance or jealousy you had hoped to raise in him did not betray him.

 “What? That I chase pleasure in the image of the better brother? Yes, I indeed do that on purpose.”

 Aemond nodded slowly, his bottom lip was once again under his teeth. The brief moment of reprieve his unmoving hips gave you diverted your attention from the ache in your cunt to the man responsible between your legs. A sheer layer of sweat coated his chest and shoulders where strands of hair stuck to his pale skin. His muscled abdomen contracted with each pant. Maybe you rendered the verdict with a wet cunt instead of a sound mind, but you thought he looked dashing.

 Then, you flinched, thinking the abrupt raise of his hand was to come down to your face or wrap around your throat, that days—weeks of relentless attempts at the limits of his patience have come to a bitter end. Instead, he pulled himself out of you and pressed your legs to his slender waist. He most likely would have dragged you by your legs still if you hadn’t wrapped your arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to remain balanced as he got out of bed.

 “Aemond? What—what are you doing?”

 In an ordinary marriage, you assumed, a wife’s first thought at that moment might not have been that your husband intended to fling you out of the window.

 He all but slammed you against the cold stones of the wall, bottoming out in you in one quick thrust all at once. A hiss escaped between his gritted teeth.

 “I’m giving you what Aegon cannot so you do not mistake me for that jester ever again.”

 In all his life, very little ired Aemond as fast and as fiercely as being compared to anyone, good or bad. It was even more so volatile when he was pitted against his older brother with whom he shared nothing but blood, and regrettably so.

 You saw so in his eye. The idle look which made you suspect at times that he might have been bored of you so much that he could have fallen asleep with his eye open was gone. In its stead, his dilated pupil glimmered with indescribably incandescent fury. In that moment, he was more dragon than human.

 The hint of pain from just how overwhelmingly stuffed you were began to grow on you, but his languid pace couldn’t possibly prepare you for what was to come. Aemond’s hips snapped unrelentingly as he pounded into you, the crown of his cock hitting a spot that made you dizzy and blurred your vision with the merciless pounding he gave you. His hips struck your ass with each buck and rut, drowning out your choked moans with the lewd sound of smacking flesh as sweat slicked your bodies.

A shaking hand gripped the back of his head, pulling Aemond’s hair in a feeble attempt to set yourself free from the wall he pinned you against with his weight. But Aemond remained unbothered by the tug at his scalp nor did he mind or ease his rhythm when you tore a fistful of white strands out.

 Your heart was racing and so was Aemond’s with his chest pressed against yours. He didn’t stifle the strangled noises anymore, joining your whimpers and moans in unison.

 You pleaded and begged between groans for Aemond to slow down, overwhelmed by the way your body was reacting to his by setting your nerves on fire. Heat spread under your skin and your toes curled with each thrust. You slapped his shoulder once, twice, all in vain. Your walls clenched around his cock too sweetly for him to slow down.

 “Aemond,” you intended to cup his scarred cheek but it was more of a sloppy stroke with the way your back slid up and down with each thrust. He squeezed your wrist in place, fearing that you meant to strip him of his last line of defence—the eye patch.

 It should have embarrassed you to lick so soon what you spat, but you swallowed your pride in the pursuit of something better.

 “Aemond—kiss me.”

 His face was dangerously close to yours; though it fell to you to close the gap as he only stared into your heavy-lidded eyes, unmoving save for his hips and the hand that let go of your wrist to hook under your thigh once more. It shouldn’t have surprised you when he leaned away from your lips. He remained buried inside you as he leaned back in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered.

 “Kisses are not for us, I’ve heard.”

 Aemond’s lips trailed down then, ghosting over your neck as cold, cruel revenge sank in, and instead of a kiss came a bite. It raised goosebumps and made your walls flutter around his cock in the wake all the same.

 You didn’t last long after, writhing and thrashing in Aemond’s arms as he kept working your spot raw from his unrelenting pounding. He twitched inside you as you convulsed around him—he was close behind, savouring the helpless squirms more than your contracting walls. He entertained the idea of spilling out for a moment. You bedded him, the ever so dutiful wife of his, so he could put a babe in your womb. What better way was there to a crescendo than to deny you the end you bore the means for?

 Even while losing composure, he was still in control. Ever the calculating, restrained Prince that had the displeasure of being your husband.

 “Be still, Baela,” he rasped, taking delight in the sharp inhale and the wide eyes of disbelief that were his rewards from you.

 You slapped him—a weak, pathetic one that must have felt more like a caress than a strike. It only spurred him on, knowing he could get to you oh so easily. He turned his head back to you with a wicked, lopsided grin. Perhaps it was not the best course of action when you needed a moment of reprieve to recollect yourself as you rode the tremors of pleasure that had you undone.

 You were limp in his arms with trembling thighs that ached and burned the same way your cunt did. Now that you were coming down from your release, torn from you so mercilessly and yet so delightfully by Aemond, you could feel every vein and slight throbbing of his cock inside you. You felt him twitch and began to spill himself when you held him by the neck and coaxed him into a kiss that he surprisingly did not protest.

 His fingers dug into your flesh, kneading the muscles strained from being tightened and wrapped around his waist for what felt like the whole night.

 Aemond invoked the old gods of Valyria, his lips barely apart from yours, as he jerked his hips, flooding you with his seed. It was a blasphemy that paled in what he was sure would condemn his soul to Seven Hells even before his death came.

 “Skoro syt ēdruta ao sagon ñuha qilōnarion?” He lamented. Why must you be my punishment? He didn’t flaunt. On the contrary, High Valyrian came naturally to him. As you would soon find out, he tended to talk in his sleep, in flawless High Valyrian more often than not. Sometimes he mumbled, and sometimes he tossed and turned with his forehead wrinkled and coated in sweat, shouting, before he shot up, drawing sharp, shaky breaths and reassuring you that it was nothing to be concerned of.

 So it came naturally to him to lament in High Valyrian as he surrendered all control, retreating back to the depths of himself as he bemoaned the fate for sending him the one woman he might not be able to challenge nor withstand. Though he bit your shoulder to stop himself from confessing more than he had already intended to despite your confused look telling him that you couldn’t tell his confession from an insult with all the lessons you have skipped.

 Aemond’s hips came to a halt eventually, though not before pushing you over the edge again, wrenching away another, weaker orgasm from your overworked cunt. He pulled out with a hiss, his seed beginning to leak out of your folds.

 The fiery passion in his eye was gone, replaced by the aloof curtain that made him seem lifeless at times. He released your thighs without tact or thought, chuckling dryly as you slumped over and your knees buckled.

 “Oh, very noble of you,” you grumbled, pressing your palm to the wall for support.

 “Hm. Assuming me a noble was your first error, wife.”

 Aemond stepped into the discarded pants, tucking himself and lacing up just enough to keep it around his hips. A bath was in order, but delaying that meant the ghost of your hands remained on his skin just a little longer. He seated himself on the sofa without so much as a look in your direction, reaching back for his book as if your first time together was a mere distraction to what truly mattered to him. Though his mind was racing and his heart was still beating at the same pace as when your chest was pressed against his and your sweet mewls filled his ears.

 He truly hated you, though for a different reason altogether now. He re-read a line on Valyrian cave formations over and over again, thinking instead of just how powerless you made him feel, how he helplessly watched as his resolve slipped away from his fingers like sand with each moan of his name that fell from your lips. He has never been a man of cravings up until this very moment. As he sat, watching you wipe yourself with the silk of your headdress from behind his book, he understood for the first time just how sweetly the wine called to Aegon, and how he was honest when he swore he had no say in how his hand reached for a bottle. Aemond would reach for you in the same manner, so soon and so often.

 You tried not to think about him at all, though it was impossible with his seed between your legs and his scent on your skin. You thought it was embarrassing that you would reconsider your oath to menace and dislike over a touch, a fuck, and a kiss. You hoped that come morning, when your emotions were not so high and your knees not so trembling, you would cease to consider him handsome, dashing even, and irresistible like a sheep to a hungry dragon.

 “I still hate you, Aemond,” you murmured, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. Do I still hate you, Aemond? You hoped that proclaiming it out loud might shape your mind back into reason.

 Even if your back wasn’t turned to him, the hefty tome he held up would have concealed his smile from you.

 “And I you, wife.”

-

Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

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#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

[shiyorin]

Do Dreadnoughts dream of taking a bath?

#Inspired by PowerWash x Warhammer 40K and Roco.

#I love Dreadnought.

"Do Dreadnoughts dream?"

That is a question with no certain answer. On one hand, a Dreadnought is more machine than man, neural implants fuse mind to machine in ways bizarre to comprehend. Their armored carapace shelters only remnants of flesh, sustained through bionic might alone. By all rights, their cerebral cortex should have decayed long ago.

By such logic, one could argue conscious thought ends where flesh yields to steel. Sleep and its dreamscapes are biological realities, are they not? With only trace humanity remaining, why expect mental functions of slumber? But integrated into their armored shells are enough enhanced organs and neural implants to sustain bioniorganic functions far beyond mere biological viability. Isn't the nature of dream itself stems from biological instincts overwritten.

The pain was a dull ache, easily ignored after centuries entombed. But a new irritation assailed him now, crawling itches across flesh long denied sensation. Confusion, this body felt change, though it had lain inert as worlds turned. Deeper still came the oppression, lungs seizing as if drowning once more in bloody. 

What trickery was this? Diagnostics reported stasis, all systems firing true. Yet the discomforts grew, phlegmy coughs racking the half-machine beast. Panic swelled, animal instincts long dormant rising within the eternal tomb. Then light, piercing the darkness behind closing lids. Sweet air rushed into ruined lungs, this labor easing at last. 

His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar realm. No armored bulk rose before him but limbs scoured by shrapnel and burned by virus-bombs. His original form, given once more against all reason, a gift or curse, he knew not. Unfettered he stood, wounds healed to bare scars across taut flesh. This was a dream, or something. 

An uncertainty gripped him. What madness was this? To be returned to old flesh but feel no urge to battle, no call to crusade? A different impulse arose, foreign but ingrained, cleansing ritual performed eons past in youth. He walked uncertain, waters calling him to rites unseen by any in aeons untold. 

Ribs still bore flecks of ceramite and plasteel patched within living shell. He paused before the waters, studying form that had known only warfare. Scars told their own tales, each etched upon memories kept alive through aeons in stasis. With care he entered in that, waters lapping old wounds as if in benediction. 

There he lingered, letting cares and pains wash freely away. Muscles long locked in adamantium relaxed, tension fleeing in steam rising. For the first time in memory untold, no demands of duty or flesh assailed him. A feeling swelled within him, emotion locked beyond reach of mortal sensation. Peace, serenity swept over ancient minds as waters sloughed away cares of ages...

Pain pulsed through his battered form as consciousness returned. The fleeting peace of dreams melted away, centuries of enforced half-life onboard the Dreadnought crashing back upon ancient shoulders. Systems booted sluggishly, sensors recalibrating after solaris of monotony disturbed. 

A hum escaped grille as servos whirred back to their duties securing crumpled flesh deeper than mortal sight could pierce. Outside clangs and grinding announced the diligent ministrations of tech-priests ensuring their perpetual charge clung yet to shadow of function. One voice carried clearly through armored carapace:

"Vitals stabilize in sector C-12 Magos. Neural links firing within tolerances." The Tech-priest's voice rang through microphones.

"Understood. Continue maintenance protocols and monitor for anomalies. This relic has served faithfully many centuries. Pray for the Omnissiah." The Magos's bionics buzzed in compliance. They ensured history marched on, whatever hulls preserved that march.

With effort, aged vox-grille creaked open. "Brother, I was dreaming." Static laced speech imparted by cobbled augmetics mere palliates for ravaged throat too ruined for basic sounds. The Techmarine's etheric sensors detected words nonetheless.

A static pause preceded Techmarine's reply. "Dreaming? Impossible, your neural engrams show only baseline activity."

Mirthless chuckle issued from loudspeakers. "Impossible, yes, But I dream... I'm taking a bath." 

Silence answered as Techmarine puzzled over the incomprehensible scene. "The priests scrub your plating clean as monthly rite. Perhaps some synapse misfired."

Silence reigned for moments uncounted as ritual continued outside. Then, a final whisper from within. "Indeed. A... nice dream." 

With that, consciousness fell back into lowest-level rest as painkillers suffused systems. The Techmarine watched monitors return to quiescent patterns, then signaled to close the Dreadnought once more. Its machine spirit's notions were beyond his. The armored tomb closed, and darkness reigned once more.

#shiyorin's writer #warhammer 40k #dreadnought

[writinginthetwilight]

Knock, knock.

Neighbour! Eddie Munson x Neighbour! Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone. AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Sleep paralysis. Horror-esk/creepy vibes.. Hopefully. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note. Thank you for all the love on the first part of this fic. This story is feeding my creepy brain and I'm truly loving it, all my love to @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing for writing the original prompt that birthed this weird little world I'm making and them all being so supportive of it.

6. You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you bye.

Part 2: Whispers from a shadow in the walls.

The building was too quiet.

The rain tapping lazily at your window and the muted hush of early morning traffic on the wet street below did little to distract you from it.

There's something tangible to the silence, one that can only be felt at this time of day, like your consciousness is disturbing it.

Headphones are quickly vetoed, the lack of awareness in your surroundings they created leaving you skittish in the still unfamiliar space.

So you work softly around the unpacked boxes, slowly searching your way through them until you find your old squat plastic CD player, adorned in peeling band stickers and Sharpie drawings. It's a relic from your youth.

A sigh of relief leaves you when it hums to life, filling the space with the low murmurs of a local early morning show, the silence crawling away to the recesses of where it came.

You lean against the kitchen cabinets, linoleum floor cold against your bare feet as you breathe for what feels like the first time since you woke.

You'd ripped yourself from a dream that left you drenched in sweat like you were purging a fever and eyeing the closed bathroom door like it was the gate to hell.

Footsteps had rung out from it, whispers reverberating out through a gap that crept open just enough to see through from where you were trapped in bed. Shadows morphed into faceless entities that watched you. Unable to look away, neither did they.

So when you had checked the time after falling out of bed to turn on the light and it showed 5 am, you had decided that the risk of falling back into that far outweighed the extra few hours of sleep.

There was little to do with your life in boxes, the disarray making you itch.

The stains on the walls for the most part had been superficial, easily removed with dish soap and rags, but it was made increasingly obvious the more you scrubbed at your bedroom walls, green fibres clinging to it and ruining another scrub pad, that the ‘no previous smokers’ on the lease was another lie.

So you cleaned.

The walls were more solid, so were the bathrooms, obviously part of what was once the original layout, they hold the telltale sticky yellow nicotine stains that had once crawled up your late grandmother's living room walls.

You take another picture to send off to the lease agency as daylight starts to creep in through the broken blinds. Another bargaining chip in your case against the ‘neutral paint colours only’. The tin of dark blue calls to you from the corner.

Soon my love.

Once the sun's fully risen you make the most of the limited gas left in your rental, badly navigating unfamiliar streets for necessities before rushing home to let the removal men ferry the last of your belongings up.

Items that had laid in storage since the day you bought them dust-covered and unloved now in a place where you could enjoy them, the green couch that sat still covered in plastic because it was too garish, the bed frame stuffed back in its packaging because it creaked too much. Your black desk showed too much dust.

Tvs, lamps, rugs and bookshelves.

Were all unneeded in a house which was never really yours.

But it didn't matter, it was all here now.

You're knee deep in baffling instructions surrounded by screws and wooden slats when you hear it. The distinct sound of somebody in the next room.

You arm yourself with one of the bed slats and creep through ready to try and disarm the intruder when you're met with an empty space.

The clear sound of footsteps and muffled voices rounds you, making you turn in place before they recede into nothing and all is quiet again.

You pad forward, makeshift weapon still raised and round the kitchen quickly only to see half unpacked boxes of utensils.

You allow yourself to sag a little, silently scolding yourself at what you were expecting to do with a plank of wood when music comes from behind you making you jerk backwards, the wooden slat flies from your grasp crashing into a pile of boxes.

You rush pointlessly towards them in an attempt to stop them falling and the music pauses as they crash to the floor loudly. You eye the room as you crouch to scoop up your belongings but just as you relax it's flaring up again.

It sounds tinny, far away and you rise cautiously like you might startle it out of existence, eyes trailing to where the music might emanate but it seems to travel unnaturally from no one source.

It gets clearer as you approach the far wall and when you press your ear against it you can hear humming which turns to the mimicking sounds of a guitar solo in time with the music. The voice gets closer before it rings out behind you, distant like before and it mingles with the sound of music and footsteps.

It's disorienting and your eyes trail around before they're drawn up to the scar. You quickly climb the back of the couch precariously balancing as you stretch up to it fingertips grazing the rough edges.

Found it. The sound trails through what you assume must be a space between the floors and you wonder if he has a scar like yours on his side too.

You camber down and make your way to your room. The sounds are still audible but muted and you thank whatever residential overlord that they didn't knock down the walls in here too.

You had lived in dorms, shared houses with noisy flatmates and a house that creaked because it had ‘character’.

You push in your headphones, deciding that you don't want to be that neighbour who nags on the first day.

Bleary eyes open as light casts over you, the couch below is soft if not still a little musty from the dust that made its way under its plastic wrap.

You will get used to it.

You don't remember falling asleep, you only sat down for a second, but the early morning must have caught up with you. The music has stopped and you let yourself bathe in the silence for a moment staring at the scar on the ceiling above.

Disorientation sets in, time is a mystery, and you shift to retrieve your phone which digs into your side from where it's slipped out of your pocket. The lifeless black screen stares back at you and you let it drop to your chest as you stretch out.

You double take a glance to the room as soon as you turn, sitting quickly to take it in.

The space is filled much more than seems possible, your furniture fused at odd angles with items you don't recognise, posters and pictures overlapping, like a bad AI generation where nothing quite looks right.

Light catches everything from angles with no source and it sprawls to the wall in front of you dancing over the plaster like its fabric caught in a breeze.

A sense of panic rises in you, the hair on your neck standing on end and you slowly turn to look behind you, scrambling to a stand at the sight of the darkness that shrouds the opposing side of the room, barely a yard from where you had been sleeping.

It seems to hum as you take a tentative step forward.

You have no doubt that if you were to step into it, it would swallow you, there's no gradualness to it, just a cliff edge into nothing. Your ears catch the only sound that echoes unnaturally around you and it drags you away from the abyss.

A drip.

You follow it, dodging items until you find your kitchen where black liquid is pooling on your countertops, spreading with every moment and soaking into the carpet beneath. You look up to the scar above it which weeps down feeding the puddle slowly.

This isn't real. You just need to wake up.

You try to peer out the windows but it seems the abyss lies there too, matte black with no reflection.

Your bedroom is oddly unchanged as you squeeze past a bookshelf that has become one with a suitcase. Everything as you left it. Your hand hovers over the handle of the bathroom door but you think better of it.

Whatever is in there can stay there.

The wall of light still flutters and you press your hand to it, it's plient and gives a little against your touch and you go to step through.

“Hello?”

The voice sounds solid and real and your drawn forward.

The sensation of rushing to the surface of water overcomes you, blood pounding in your ears and you wake eyes wide and gasping, a small yelp leaving you as you crash to the floor below you.

There's ringing in your ears but everything is exactly as it should be.

No abyss.

No lights.

No amorphys drip.

No disembodied voices.

A curse comes from the other side of the wall, then mumbles echo from above you.

The rest of the week passes quickly, your new neighbour's presence hadn't gotten under your skin all that much, granted you'd never had a neighbour that sounded like they were living in your fucking apartment but it was fine.

Well almost none.

Fine.

Fine.

Ear plugs, headphones and you assumed his odd work schedule meant moments of peace came relatively often.

The apartment got painted.

Dinners were made.

Nightmares were kept to a minimum, it probably wasn't safe the amount of string lights that now adorned your bathroom but all in all, you got settled.

Carved out a space for yourself.

But then you started work.

The first night you come home late, overwhelmed by paperwork and HR ‘welcoming packages’ that were basically instruction manuals on how many ways they could fire you.

You collapsed with exhaustion face down into your comforter, body spent with the anxiety of first impressions and grappling with the ins and outs of office life. Wriggling out of rigid clothes that had suffocated you all day, you prayed for an interrupted sleep.

Only to be woken a few hours later at 3 am as loud laughter came from behind your bedroom wall as your new neighbour spoke loudly and animated on the phone for almost an hour.

It set the tone for the rest of the week.

You weren't an asshole, you weren't, but even without the thin walls and gaping peephole that left you involuntarily privy to the musing of another human being's life.

Music was constant but there was also the TV or singing, at the top of his lungs, talking to himself, always moving footsteps back and forth, back and forth, belonging crashing to the floor, cursing when said items fall.

He was just fucking loud, and Friday was the day that it broke you.

The day was a cluster fuck from the go, you forgot your lunch, got your period at work, forgot the password to your laptop and got locked out, had an unannounced team building afternoon and by the end of it, you just wanted to crawl into sweats, eat chips and drown your sorrows in cheap wine.

It all started surprisingly well, there wasn't the usual screech of guitar and one man karaoke show rattling your walls when you came in.

It only lasted an hour before you heard him come in, just enough time to relax and it wasn't just him, it was a group of them.

You deflate at the sound of their laughter and hate yourself for it, because who gets angry at the sound of laughter? You plug your headphones in but before long the laughter gets loud, dispersed with yelling, cheers and heckling audible over the sound that's being directly fed into your ears.

You're trying to keep a lid on it, but even moving to the bedroom, a sanctuary where the world is usually a little more your own doesn't seem to work as the sound travels in from outside the door.

And why should you have to hide yourself away? This was your home too and if you wanted to watch TV without headphones plugged into your Xbox pad then why was that an issue?

But you don't need to make a scene.

You make it to 11pm.

When the sound of them leaving is only followed by the start of his music you snap.

In all your crumpled band shirt and sweatpant glory you match out hammering on his door.

There's no music and you start to fidget when he doesn't answer, eyes searching the empty hallway, you assume he's got the message without you cursing him out.

But you're barely in the door when it starts again.

You rip the drawer of your desk open hastily scrawling a polite shut the fuck up note through gritted teeth.

Shoved it under the door, another knock that goes unanswered.

The musics gone.

It doesn't start up again and you crawl into bed smugly for the first uninterrupted night's sleep you've had in a week.

When you wake a note sits halfway sticking out under the door.

Hey sorry!

Didn't mean to be loud.

If we could keep this between us that would be cool.

I'll keep it down.

Eddie. No 5.

You instantly regret the email to the landlord asking about a way to close up the gaps in the ceiling due to being able to hear no 5’s entire life.

You stress about it all day, a good night's rest and a day sat vegetating in front of the TV making the whole ordeal feel like it got blown way out of proportion. By the time your phone lights up with a reply, you've come up with a way to cover your tracks so you don't get the poor guy evicted.

But it doesn't really matter.

Because the landlord's reply makes you run cold.

Nobody lives there

Next.

#stranger prompts #Knock knock #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things #Nightmares #sleep paralysis #Spotify