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#so symbolic of their estrangement

justintrudeaucalendar · 21 days

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my spider plant is flowering!!! i am absolutely delighted!!

i’m truly over the moon- this plant is crazy important to me, it’s the sole surviving great-grandchild of a baby spider plant that my teacher gave me in the third grade (for reference i’m now getting ready to start grad school this fall)!

i’m so so excited to see it thriving and i’ve started propagating two of the little baby spiderettes it’s already put off!! i’ll be offering one to genuinely everyone i know as the offshoots continue to come in!!

#spider plant #i am so happy #i also rescued it from my estranged father’s house #and it was so little and sickly and overwatered when i brought it home #if my life was a movie this would absolutely be like some sort of background symbolism of my growth over the past five years lmao #personal shout into the void

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kimberleyjean · 5 months

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Aziraphale's Illustrated Bible

There are a lot of interesting items stored within Aziraphale's bookshop and one I find fascinating is the bible (or bibles) that are typically on the stand next to his desk and which they use for the Job flashback/memory sequence. Here's what these books look like in episode 2 - the blue detailed folio, the beige folio held by Aziraphale, and this same beige folio when opened to Job:

You might not have noticed yet, but there are several other images shown in this book in the second season! Often the book is out of focus and far from the camera, but some sleuths on reddit were able to identify the particular images being shown.

Let's take a look at those images and where they occur in the show. All of these images are famous illustrations by Harold Copping:

1. "Joseph knows his brethren" - Book of Genesis, Old Testament

This image is on display in episode 1 and looks like this on camera. To spot it, I used the little telltale shadow that is created on the ground:

The story of Joseph may be more familiar to you as "Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat". I've certainly had to brush up on my bible knowledge myself, so please, if you know more than I do and I've gone wrong anywhere let me know. Joseph is rejected by his family and they believe him dead. He then gets promoted to a high-up position in Egypt. The image depicted is when Joseph is reunited with his estranged brothers and they don't recognise him at first (something which happens a lot in season 2!). However, Joseph recognises them and he pretends to be a stranger to them at first. Eventually, he clears the room and says to them "I am Joseph! Is my father still living?". I'm sure there is more to unpack in this story but I'll leave that for someone with better biblical knowledge.

2. "Jacob's vow" - Book of Genesis, Old Testament

This image appears in episode 2:

In the episode, it first appears in the background looking like this:

According to comments on the reddit post, this image could refer to "Jacob’s vow in Bethel, that’s when he promised to worship God if God took care of him, and it was the day after his famous dream about a ladder in heaven. It is generally a symbol of the link between heaven and Earth." Here is a quote from the exact passage: "Genesis 28:20 Then Jacob made a vow, saying, “If God will be with me, and keep me in this way that I am going, and give me bread to eat and clothing to put on, so that I come back to my father's house in peace, then the lord shall be my God. And this stone which I have set as a pillar will be God's house, and of all that you give me, I will surely give a tenth to you." We see a lot of emphasis on food giving this season. The Eccles cakes get offered to Maggie then handed to Crowley. Gabriel offers up lots of little snacks at the ball. The Metatron gifts Aziraphale the coffee. At the ball, we see people being given new clothes as well - is that what this could be referencing? Why do you think these particular images have been chosen?

3. "The Brazen Serpent" - Book of Numbers, Old Testament

What do we think of when we hear "serpent"? Anything snake-like refers to Crowley in this show, so that's where my mind immediately goes.

This appears in episode 3 looking like this (partially occluded):

The story is that God had sent fiery serpents to attack the Israelites for making complaints about God and Moses (no asking questions, no complaints? What kind of organisation is this? They really need to unionise). However, God seems to then have a change of heart and commanded Moses to erect a snake upon a pole, referred to as "Nehushtan", so that anyone bitten by the snakes can just look at this pole and they will survive.

We get some pretty wacky stories about God's fickleness in Good Omens, especially in the S2 Job flashbacks. Is this a reflection of that theme, perhaps.

4. "By the rivers of Babylon" - Book of Psalms, Old Testament

If you don't have a Christian background, you may be more familiar with the song than the story itself. From the wikipedia article: "The song is based on the Biblical Psalm 137:1-4, a hymn expressing the lamentations of the Jewish people in exile following the Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem in 586 BC".

It appears in episode 5 and looks like this:

One Redditor has explained it as such: "The rivers of Babylon symbolize deep grief and longing for freedom by people exiled from their homeland and doomed to live in captivity."

5. Closed Book(s)

The book also appears closed at times. Let's take a look at the scene where Aziraphale retrieves the book for the Job flashback. We see him getting out the beige folio and putting it onto the stand but over the top of an almost identical book. The only difference is that the Job one has blue detailing and the other is a plain/beige cover (seen here in this third image with Crowley, episode 6).

So what is this other book? Well, looking online, it appears that Harold Copping's illustrated bibles could come in sets of two - one for the Old Testament, and one for the New Testament. All the illustrations we see in S2 are from the Old Testament, so why would the New Testament also be there? When explaining this to someone they mentioned that Aziraphale has a lot of misprinted bibles in his collection. So could they instead be two different versions of the same text - one with misprints and one without? I'd be keen to hear your thoughts.

6. Bonus Season 1 Appearance!

In Season One, we also see a Harold Copping illustration - Adam and Eve after the Fall.

The book is in the same place inside the bookshop, as show in episode 1 (26:21) and episode 2 (51:40).

Beyond supporting the themes of Good Omens these books are useful in another way too - finding discontinuities! If you are interested in the discontinuities of Good Omens S2, then please check out this post:

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens theory #good omens clues #harold copping #ineffable mystery #good omens analysis

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asumofwords · 11 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels!! This is a much longer chapter than usual because I kept writing and couldn't stop and didn't want to split it into two parts! Thank you all for the love as usual, I hope you enjoy ! <3

Chapter 65: Lanta hen keskydoso, Two of the same

Returning to your chambers after your interaction with Larys caused you to have spring in your step. It had given you a rush to speak so plainly with him, smiling at him so that all in the gardens who passed by suspected nothing.

For once you felt you knew something that the so called Master of Whispers did not.

The Maester had helped you.

The Maester had given you that broach. A symbol of allyship that you needed in the Keep. And yet they still did not know it. They did not know that there was a traitor in their midst.

And it excited you.

When you opened the door to the chambers, you found Aemond already inside, sitting in front of the fire, tome in his lap. His hair was pulled back behind his head in a half ponytail, the long silver tresses lifted and flowing down his back. Messy strands fell around his ears and framed his face.

This new style came as a shock to you. The man had worn his hair in the same way, every day, as he always had since he was a child. It revealed more of his sharp face and neck, the hair pulled away to reveal the pale skin beneath.

Without greeting him, you moved about the chambers to seat yourself at the window, picking up a book from the pile on the side of the room to read. When you sat you felt his gaze lift to you, but you did not meet it, opting to ignore him and read instead. But the harder you tried to ignore his heated gaze, the less you could resist, letting your eyes flick up to his.

Aemond watched you beneath his lashes silently, finger tapping on the page in his lap.

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“I’m sure you are enthralled with the prospect of reading ‘Crispian Celtigar, Master of Coins; Wealth of the Realm’.” Aemond hummed.

You let your eyes fall back down to the book in your lap.

You had picked up one of the most boring books of all.

Why did Aemond even have this?

“I am sure far more enticing than this conversation.” You drawled.

Aemond hummed, before letting the chambers dissolve into silence. You opened the page and began to read the history book, eyes skimming the words and immediately regretting your quick choice.

‘The Lord of Claw Isle came from the blood of old Valyria. His allyship lay with the Velaryon and Targaryen Houses naturally. Lord Celtigar was a clever and young Lord of his House. He had grown in the Isles and-‘

“How was your walk with Lord Larys?” Aemond’s smooth tone pulled you from the words of the book.

How did he know?

Did he see you?

“Enlightening and refreshing. The air was crisp, and the sun shone beautifully. I regretfully had not taken the time to be acquainted with the last Lord of House Strong.”

You watched him as he took his eye from his book to look at you.

“Hm. And what did you talk about?”

“That’s neither here nor there, husband.” You spoke bluntly.

Aemond blinked, staring at you, trying to push you to respond to his question with his silence. You thought of not answering him, letting him stew in the possibilities of finding comfort in a man like Larys.

But you sated him instead, “He doesn’t speak plainly, as I am sure you would know. Pulling teeth would be easier than talking to him.”

"Larys will only tell you what you want to hear.”

“Of that I have realised.” You replied.

You looked back down at the tome in your hand, trying to force yourself to read the words on the page.

Why was it so dull?

How could he read this and not fall asleep?

“We are to dine with the King this evening.”

“Delightful.” You droned, flicking another page over to look at the endless boring script.

Aemond stood, and you let your eyes peek at him from below your lashes as he walked towards the door, requesting the knight to summon the maids.

A short while later, the two girls entered the chambers and Aemond asked them to ready you for the evening.

They braided your hair, half behind your head and dressed you in a deep black gown, the cleavage dipping to show ample breast. You wore your gold chain with the rubies, with the earrings and ring to match, twirling the dragon around your finger as you waited in anticipation of yet another tiresome, and most likely, eventful dinner.

As the maids left the chambers, Aemond waited for you by the door to walk side by side with him to the small dining hall. He watched you as you observed him from across the room.

“You were gone quite some time.” You interrupted the silence, looking down at your hands in false boredom.

“I had duties to attend to.” He responded bluntly.

“And how is she?” You looking up at Aemond with curious eyes.

You watched his jaw tick.

“Who?”

He wanted to know what you knew.

“Alys Rivers, of course.” You smiled at him, stepping forward across the room to stand at his side as you moved to leave the chambers. You walked out the door and waited in the corridor, looking back to see Aemond still where he was, eye narrowed.

Oh yes, I know all about her.

Silence filled the air as Aemond stared at you, and you awaited his response. He walked out to join you, the tow of you beginning to make your way to dine with the Greens. Aemond kept his gaze straight ahead as you walked, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at his silence.

And so you asked again.

“Is she well?” You smiled looking to your side, all sickly sweet, like a soft honey bee with its stinger hidden away.

Aemond hummed, looking down at you as you continued, still not having answered.

The knight escorted the both of you down the halls and corridors. The doors to the dining hall were just up ahead as you rapidly approached them, your hands held together in front of you, and his behind his back.

As you stood in front of the entrance, watching the two guards lean forward to pull open the large wooden doors, Aemond shifted, leaning closer to you as he looked down into your eyes.

Your husband opened his mouth to speak, but paused before closing his mouth shut. The Prince straightened and looked ahead as the room was revealed to you.

No response then.

The knight announced you to the room as you walked up the small steps to the landing where the table lay. Aegon sat in the centre with his mother and Otto flanking each side. All dressed in green looking like an odd bunch of peas.

The Master of Whispers sat beside Alicent in robes of burgundy, watching you with hawk like eyes after your interaction. Lord Jasper Wylde sat opposite him, in pale green robes, whilst other small council members littered the table like cockroaches.

“Welcome back, brother.” Aegon smiled from the across the room, watching as the both of you came to the table.

Aemond pulled your chair out for you, as he always did, and you seated yourself in it softly, giving Aegon a small, yet polite smile. Alicent pursed her lips at you in a stiff greeting and Otto simply watched you. Your eyes flicked to Lord Jasper Wylde and you gave him a gentle smile.

Aegon’s brow creased, if not for only a moment, before a large smirk wound its way on his face.

When the servants laid out the supper for the evening, you had sat and waited patiently for Alicent to say her prayer to the room, thanking the Seven for the spread and the health of the King. You piled your plate high with steaming vegetables and meat, and sipped generously at a honeyed wine from Essos, and not the spiced wine from Dorne that you loved. It was sweet, but also tart on your tongue, a distinctly different wine to what you had grown accustomed to.

As you ate, conversation filled the room between the small council members and the Hightower's. You could sense however, that Aemond’s gaze was stiffly on his brother, who had not taken his eyes off of you.

“It was a beautiful day today, was it not, niece?” Aegon asked, one side of his mouth twitching as he spoke.

“It was, uncle. I took myself for a walk around the gardens and was fortunate enough to be accompanied by Lord Larys.” You answered honestly and politely, smiling at Lord Strong at the mention of his name.

“It must be a relief to have your Lord Husband back in the Keep. I cannot imagine how lonely it must get for a wife without their husband.”

Lonely.

Your eyes flicked to Jasper Wylde who would not meet your gaze, eyes down on his plate as he ate.

He had told Aegon.

“It does, uncle. There is only so many times I can read the same book, or walk the same path in the gardens, before the task becomes tedious. But thankfully, he has returned to me after so long away.”

Aegon sipped his wine as Alicent’s voice flitted across the table to you.

“Perhaps you would like a loom, so that you may embroider?” She inquired, hands clasped together on the table, head tilted.

“That would be welcomed, thank you. Although, I may not be very good at it. It was always more of a talent Princess Helaena had. I find my talents elsewhere.”

Aegon scoffed loudly into his cup and Aemond shifted beside you.

Conversation slowly moved around the table with the other guests and you let yourself settle back into your chair, listening for anything important. Any tones that grew quiet or hushed or stressed. Anything that could be of use.

But most of it, was not.

“I’m curious to know about these talents you spoke of. I am sure my brother has experienced such things. Does this mean we will have an heir soon?” Aegon questioned, grinning at Aemond.

You unreservedly pathetic, loathsome, waste of breath.

You grit your teeth, the sharp incisors sliding over each other in your mouth roughly, and forced a small smile on your face, fighting away a grimace that tried to replace it.

“Those talents, I unfortunately have no knowledge of, uncle. But, no,” You paused, “I had my blood, so there is no babe.”

Speak plainly and openly.

Appear to be complacent.

Aegon pouted and sighed, “The Realm needs a babe for the treaty." He announced loudly, drawing all into the conversation again, "Have you even been trying? Do you need me to instruct you?”

You smiled at him, and thought of all the ways you could tear his head from his shoulders.

“The Prince had taken to Harrenhal for many days. Aemond often warms the bed of the Strong bastard, Alys Rivers.” You took a pause and smiled at your uncle beside you, “But now, thank the Gods, he has finally returned.”

Aemond stiffened at your side, hands gripping his cutlery tightly. You reached a hand over to grasp one of his in your own, soothing his white knuckles with your thumb, smiling at him brightly.

“I go where my King commands me.” Aemond purred, hand dropping the utensil beneath his hand and grasping yours tightly, digging his fingers into your soft skin painfully.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

Alicent stared daggers at her son, and Ser Otto sat quietly watching you. Aegon laughed loudly into the room, looking at how his brothers eye twitched and avoided meeting your gaze.

“I envy you, brother. You seem to have been wed to Visenya reborn.”

“Then that would make Aemond, Aegon the First reborn.” You replied, and watched as Aegon’s smirk dropped from his face with triumph.

You could never measure up to Aegon the Conqueror, you half-witted swine.

Aemond’s harsh grip on your hand loosened at the comment.

Otto steered the conversation away from you and your uncle, and you sat with you hand in his until the dinner was over. Aemond stood, assisting you to stand, and excused you both from the table with a curt parting glance and a stiff bow of his head.

You had thanked Aegon for the meal, and smiled at him and the other Green council members before leaving the dining hall with your husband.

The walk was quiet, and once you had entered your chambers, Aemond began to pace the room. Each step he took, his boots clacked against the stone floors loudly, hands behind his back as his lips were pulled into a sneer.

“Your childishness knows no bounds.” Aemond growled, back faced away from you and towards the window.

“My childishness?”

Aemond spun on his heel looking at you, “You dare to bring her up whilst we dine? Before all the Lords?”

You tilted your head and looked at him, “The Lords already knew. I was the only one it seemed, in the entirety of Kings Landing, who was not privy to my husbands whoring.”

“Whoring?” Aemond sneered, taking a step closer, “And what of your little walk with Lord Wylde?”

Fuck.

Thinking on your toes, you scoffed loudly, “You must think me stupid to approach a man who is known as 'Ironrod' to the small folk for his refusal to bend to any man. A Lord dedicated to law, who will not budge, and has openly ridiculed my mother? Do you think that man such as him,” You narrowed your gaze, “Would even look at me for one moment? Do you think a man like Lord Jasper Wylde would even fall for such an attempt?”

You had hoped he would.

All men are the same.

They think with their cock.

Aemond crowded your space, his chest brushing against yours as he looked down at you.

“You know nothing of men.” He growled.

“I know plenty.” You countered, looking up at him, staring into his violet eye.

“You know nothing.” The One-Eyed Prince snapped, breath fanning over your face.

You sighed, stepping back and away from him, “I know that you fly to Harrenhal and bed a bastard named Alys Rivers. I know she is of House Strong. I know that she is called a witch, and I know that you love her.” You turn away from Aemond, his lips twitching as you spin on your heel, “I know that your words are hollow, for you have cursed my brothers as Strong bastards and waged a war on them, and yet, you bed one of your own.”

You stood in front of the fire, looking at the flames as they licked at the wood within, the bark peeling away from the heat only to be devoured by the orange and yellow teeth of the fire. The flames flickered for a moment, swaying as though disturbed by a breeze.

When you turned, Aemond was behind you, his large hand coming to snatch your throat tightly, ripping the air from your lungs.

Your hands flew up to grasp his wrist as he sneered down at you.

“You know nothing of her. Do not presume to speak freely.” He growled, face shadowed by the light of the fire, accentuating the sharpness of his features.

You wheezed, hands still gripping him, and yet you did not feel frightened.

“Even if she has your child, it will never be an heir. It will always be a bastard.” You gasped, staring him in the eye.

Aemond’s mouth pulled taunt and his hand squeezed your throat harder, body looming over yours as the fire crackled loudly beside you.

“And yet Aegon could legitimise them both, if I asked.” His sneer pulled upwards into a smirk, fingers twitching around your throat.

“And yet you and I would both know the truth.”

Aemond’d grip yanked you towards him, his nose brushing yours as he grunted, eye searching your face before he shoved you backwards, your hand coming to your chest as you breathed in deeply, coughs clawing their way up your throat.

“If you are free to bed her," You wheezed, watching at how he reacted to your words, "Then I shall find someone to warm my bed elsewhere.” You smiled widely, voice hoarse from his grip.

His single eye flickered, and you saw his hand twitch, “Or perhaps I will fuck Aegon. He seems to show interest in warming our bed.”

There was a shift.

The air in the room seemed to chill, and a shiver rolled down your back.

Aemond’s face morphed into something you had never witnessed before.

You had grown accustomed to seeing his rage and fury often, his bitter anger and spite, but this? This was something new. Like any lingering presence of the man you had known, or even the man you had witnessed just a moments pass, was gone, and in his place something dangerous and unforgiving.

“Tread carefully.” He whispered, barely restraining the pure rage within him.

The mere mention of Aegon stirred this response.

You pressed on, testing the waters.

“What do you expect me to do whilst you are gone and the King lingers around these chambers? If he commands it, he is King. I cannot refuse him. And he has made it clear to me that he wishes to teach me things that you could not.”

“Aegon is a little boy, dressed as a man who we are all forced to call King. His word holds no power over me.” Aemond sneered, animosity pouring out of him as he looked at you.

“And yet you do his bidding, and go where he commands you, like a dog.”

The slap sounded into the room before you felt it. Your cheek stung and your eyes began to water, head turned towards the fire. Your hair curtained over your face as the pain began to bloom across your cheek.

A little boy he's forced to call King.

'His word holds no power over me.'

You let a shaky hand move to touch the heat that rippled along your face before you looked back at Aemond, whose chest rose and fell, fist at his side curling and unfurling.

Stepping towards him, you took a deep breath, “Do it again if it will make you feel better.”

You watched as Aemond’s brow furrowed, confusion and anger dancing around each other as he watched you.

“It makes no difference to me. I expect your cruelty. This is what I know. I know you." You breathed and watched him as you dropped your hand, revealing your red cheek to the room.

"You have raped, and defiled me.” You took another step closer, watching as his breaths evened out, “Beat, and choked me. You have scarred me and haunted my dreams far longer than any folklore or tale. I anticipate every blow, every curse, every drop of blood taken from my body, because that is the man that you are.”

Aemond stiffened with every word, looking down at you as you came closer.

“You have called Aegon a monster, and yet he has shown me more mercy than you.” You smiled sadly up at the man.

“I do not fault you for taking Alys as your lover. Anyone in a loveless marriage such as this would do the same. And that is the only mercy you have given me. Each day that you are gone from the Keep, and leave to warm her bed, I am given a reprieve from your cruelty and having to look upon your face.”

Aemond’s gaze darkened as he let you continue, “Don’t mistaken me, uncle. You are a handsome man, an image of a true Targaryen.”

You let yourself look over his body. He was tall and lean, with a sharp face. His hair was soft and shining, silver locks pulled back away from his neck. Aemond's plump lips were pulled into a stiff line, and his purple eye was locked on yours.

His robes fit him perfectly, tailored to perfection, and the way he held himself tall and strong, added to the allure of the man known as Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond was handsome, there was no denying that.

You would not lie to yourself about a trivial thing such as appearance. For anyone with half decent taste could see that he was a very attractive Prince. Even if he was the most limaceous, despicable, and horrifying man you had ever come across.

“The loss of your eye has weighed very little on your looks, and if you were anyone else, I would have thought myself lucky. But you are not anyone else, and it is not the scar that makes you so hideous.”

You let your hand move to cup the side of his face, watching as he flinched at the movement, brows furrowing deeper on his face. His cheek was warm against your hand, heat radiating into your palm as you felt the subtle stubble of his jaw.

Your thumb rubbed against his jaw. In thought. In questioning of your next words. In a form of comfort to both yourself and him. Aemond’s gaze dropped to your lips, eye half lidded as he leant into your touch.

“It is not your eye, kepus. It’s the person you are within.” You whispered, all soft and cooing, but words sharper than a blade.

Aemond’s eye flicked back to you, blinking, lip twitching as he watched you. You moved to take your hand away from his face, his gaze piercing through you.

Aemond's large hand shot up, and grasped your wrist, holding your hand against him.

Holding your palm against his cheek.

His grip was unyielding, and his fingers twitched around your wrist in thought, tightening to a bruising and crushing vice, to simply holding your arm in his hand.

“You will come to love me. Just as I love you.” Aemond whispered, grip tightening around your wrist painfully.

“When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. When the rivers and oceans run dry. When the tree hold no leaves, and the sky holds no colour. That is when I will love you.” You breathed.

“And yet you did once. And you do still. You just refuse to see it.”

“You refuse to see reason.” You pulled your hand from his grip, feeling the warmth of the fire beside you, “You are disillusioned by time and war.”

“You are disillusioned by your own fears. You refuse to see it. To see that we are meant to burn together. That a great fall would tie two threads. Fated by the Gods.”

You took a step back away from him.

What?

“Lanta hen keskydoso,” Two of the same, "Vējes ondoso se Jaes.” Fated by the Gods.

You shook your head as Aemond spoke, stepping forward to grasp both of your hands, pulling them towards him to press against his chest.

“You must see. She must have told you. Surely she spoke of it to you.” He whispered.

“Who?”

“Helaena.”

Helaena?

“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre.” Two great dragon flames, together as one.

One hand left yours as you looked up at him, blood running cold. His hand moved to the back of your head, long fingers tangling themselves in the hair at the nape of your neck. He pulled you closer, looking down at you hungrily as his pupil expanded, swallowing the violet of his eye.

Air caught in your throat as his nose brushed against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he watched you.

“Spool hen Kasta, spool hen Zōbrie.” Spool of Green, spool of Black.

Spool of Green, Spool of Black.

“Syt iksan aōha spool hen Kasta, Se ao ñuha spool hen Zōbrie.” For I am your spool of Green, and you my spool of Black, Aemond murmured, lips brushing gently against yours as he spoke.

Hand turns loom.

Green to Black.

Green to-

“Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”

A great fall to tie two threads.

Fated to burn together.

Aemond’s lips crashed into yours, teeth clashing roughly into your own as he wrenched you close to him, one hand tangled in your hair, the other wrapping itself around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It was all teeth and tongue, suffocating and rough. Where you would try to come up for air, or wriggle from his grip, Aemond would double his strength and hold you against him with no likelihood of escape.

A great fall.

All you could think about was falling, whilst Aemond’s hand pulled you under.

His fingers pulled at the laces of your dress, roughly ripping them open from behind as you were forced to bend to his will. Aemond ripped the front of your gown and chemise down, breasts spilling out of their confines.

You yelped into his mouth as his hands pinched your breasts meanly, fingers twisting the stiffened peak between his thumb and forefinger.

Aemond moved you backwards until your legs hit the back of the chemise, your body almost toppling over the back of it. You pushed back into the kiss, nipping at his lip harshly as he continued to undress you, gown pooled at your feet.

He pulled back to look at you, his eye wild and hair messed. His lips were swollen and red, and the tiniest hint of blood rose from his bottom lip where you had nipped it.

“Gevie.” Beautiful, He cooed, looking you up and down as you shivered under his gaze.

Aemond stepped close, hand gripping your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. He brought his head down towards you and whispered.

“Mine.”

Your front was pushed up against the back of the chaise as Aemond spun you around roughly, your hands coming to grip the dark wood beneath you tightly for balance. You breathed in shakily, trying to steady your breaths as Aemond loomed behind you.

“Alys has seen it too.” He whispered, hand trailing down your back, causing goosebumps to rise in its wake.

“Blood will be spilt to seed the garden, and set the future sway.” His fingers curled beneath the crease of your ass, tickling the skin as he pushed you forward with the other hand, bending you deeper over the back of the chaise.

“Ravens will whisper the words of a burning star, a crown forged of blood.” He continued, fingers trailing up the back of your thigh, fingers scratching short nails against the skin as they made their way towards your centre.

“And from her blood, the Prince that was promised. Five years to come, his song of ice and fire.”

Two long fingers swiped through your folds, caressing your bud as they moved back down toward your hole, forcing their way in. You gasped at the intrusion of his hand as he pushed down on the front of your walls with two skilled fingers.

Your fingers gripped the wood tightly as you breathed heavily through your nose, desperate to calm yourself as he began to slowly drag his fingers in and out of your heat, rubbing against the soft spongey spot within you.

“Our heir will be the prince that was promised. Our son will be what Aegon the First prophesied.” He purred, speeding up his movements with his hand.

“I will fuck heirs into you, and you will give me the Prince that was promised.”

You whimpered as he became rougher, the sounds of his leather breeches being untied behind you. Aemond’s thumb rubbed against your clit as he continued to fuck his fingers inside of you, wetness begin to drip down his hand. You moaned at the sudden combined pleasure.

“Each time you deny me, you deny his word.” His hand became rougher, “Each time you bite at me, you desecrate his vision.”

Your head spun as the coil within you tightened faster and faster, his knuckles beating bruisingly against the soft flesh of your thighs.

“And each time you refuse to see it, you delay the prophecy from coming to fruition.” He growled, thumb pressing against your pearl sharply, and suddenly your peak was ripped from you painfully and viciously, back curled as you tried to pull your hips away from his fingers that never slowed their motions.

Aemond continued to fuck his hand into you through your release, sobs and gasps spilling from your lips until he finally pulled his digits from your core, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing.

He wiped the wetness along your inner thighs, trails of your slick coating them. Your body hummed from the abrupt orgasm, and your mind was hazed as you tried to wade through the thick sludge to think clearly.

From her blood the Prince that was promised?

The heat of Aemond’s body behind you disappeared, and you slowly pushed yourself up to stop leaning over the back of the lounge, turning your head to see where he had gone to.

Where was he?

Two large hands grasped at your cheeks and parted them, a tongue swiping from your pearl, all the way to your puckered hole.

You cried out and fell forward, hands losing their grip of the wood as Aemond began to seek out the release that leaked from within you with his tongue. His nose buried into your flesh as he lapped at your hole, tongue pushing inside to drink your essence.

Pleasure rippled through your body as you whimpered, a hand flying back to try and push him away from you, body jerking from overstimulation. Your hand dug into his hair pulling the soft locks. You felt Aemond groan into your cunt, vibrations shooting up through your body.

“I have missed this cunny.” He moaned.

"Your legs buckled slightly, fingers gripping his hair tighter, pulling him closer to your heat.

Aemond groaned happily into your folds, licking and suckling at your slick, tongue teasing your bud as his hands dug into your ass with a bruising grip. You felt pleasure mounting within you quickly and rapidly. The front of your hips digging painfully into the front of the chaise as you tried to pull away from his mouth, his lips latching around your bud as he sucked on it.

“Going to fill you with my seed.” He growled, pulling away from your core as your legs shook, eyes unfocused as you stared at the fire.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you let him continued to lick, and nibble at your folds, the tide mounting higher and higher within, until he latched his teeth upon your bud and sucked it sharply into his mouth.

You came undone with a wail. Blinding white behind your eyes as hot pleasure flooded through you, the force of the second peak causing you to slump against the back of the chaise.

Aemond rose behind you, placing wet kisses on the backs of your thighs, the curve of your ass, and a single kiss for each and every vertebrae he passed, until he pressed himself up against your back.

The thick head of Aemond’s cock brushed through your folds and you shuddered, overstimulation and exhausting pouring out of you. He rubbed the tip of his cock through your slick folds, humming as he moved down to your entrance, slowly sliding inside.

Aemond pushed himself to the hilt, your walls stratching to accomodate him, the head of his cock pushing up against your cervix. Your fingers curled into your palms as you held back a cry of pain and pleasure.

A large hand gripped the back of your neck, whilst the other slid itself around to grip your hip. He groaned as he seated himself inside of you, feeling your warm, wet walls gripping him tightly as he stilled within. You could feel his hot breath, fanning onto your neck at your ear as he bent over you.

Slowly, he pulled himself out, inch by inch, letting his shaft drag through your tender walls, veins rubbing against you deliciously as you fought to keep your moan in.

The tip stretched your entrance as it began to pull out, before Aemond slowly plunged back inside of you. Feeling your core clench around him as he hummed.

"Sīr ȳrda.” So tight, He moaned, hands gripping your neck and hip tightly, fingers digging into your tender flesh.

He began a steady pace, slowly pushing into your heat and pulling back out, almost as if he was teasing himself, working himself up to a frenzy as he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls.

Each thrust pushed your hips fighter into the chaise as his pelvis came flush against your backside, pushing himself as deep as he could go. It caused a pleasurable stretch as he opened you up for himself slowly.

“Bisa orvorta iksis ñuhon.” This cunt is mine.

Aemond’s pace began to quicken, the force building, your body being pushed into the hard oak of the chaise, its legs jolting against the stone floor as he rutted against you.

Pleasure began to bubble up within you again, it’s tendrils spreading through your body as it wrapped itself around each and every nerve ending within your body.

“The gods made you for me. They made you so perfect for my cock. So perfect. I'm going to fuck an heir into you.” He grunted thrusting into you with earnest, rapidly becoming more savage as he sought out his own pleasure.

“Going to fuck my seed into you and watch you swell with it.”

You moaned into the chambers, pleasure rising inside of you, mind lost to the world around you as you steadily moved towards your third release.

You wanted to let go. You needed it.

You were owed it.

And if it came from Aemond, so be it.

The echoes of his thrusts filled the room, the wet slapping of skin meeting skin, his breaths and grunts, and your tiny whimpers and mewls, surrounded you as he fucked you harder. The hand on your neck pulled you up flush against him, his arm moving to wrap itself under your chest, holding you to his chest.

“No one will have you. No one will touch you.” Aemond growled, “You’re mine. Mine. Always been mine, my zaldristos.” He purred, his thrusts pushing air out of your lungs as you limply leant into his chest.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill anyone who has you. Anyone who touches you. Iksā ñuhon.” You’re mine.

“Please.” You whimpered in his arms, peak rapidly rising as he continued to fuck into your wet heat, slick coating your thighs.

Aemond’s lips came to the juncture where your neck and throat met, a place where you had once stabbed him, and pressed his lips against you, sucking the skin harshly. His hand left your hip to come to your front, and skilled fingers dived between your folds to rub needy circles on your pearl in tandem with his thrusts.

Bursting hot pleasure rippled through you as he brought you closer, your mouth parting and an airy moan flitting through.

“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling you tighten around him, his fingers speeding up their movements as he continued to fuck you harder, almost pulling you from the floor with each thrust.

The knight outside your door could no doubt hear the sounds of your rutting. His grunts and your moans filled the space, and with every slap of his hips into your wet and wanting core, a high pitched whine would peal fourth from your lips.

Not even the thick oak doors could hide the sounds of such carnal pleasure.

“Iksā… sīr gevie.” You’re so beautiful, He grunted, pace becoming sloppy as his fingers raced to bring you to your peak.

His lips pressed to your ear as he nipped the lobe before whispering, all breathy and wanting.

All commanding and giving.

All at once.

“Come for me.”

The coil within you snapped.

You felt like you were floating.

Your body had no weight to it as you soared high into your third release, long moan falling from your mouth as you leant back into Aemond behind you, feeling his pace begin to falter as he felt your cunt gripping him tightly.

“Fuck.” You whimpered as he continued his pace, his thick cock jabbing sharply into your sensitive spot within, the head brushing it over and over, as you felt yourself soar higher into the pleasure.

It kept mounting and mounting, and you felt yourself hold your breath as a new, unfamiliar pleasure erupted within.

“Thats it, good girl.” Aemond purred, feeling your wetness burst forth from within, coating your thighs and dripping to the floor.

You cried out, feeling almost dizzy as your walls continued to squeeze around his length. Your release leaking from your body, pooling onto the stones below.

“Fuck.”

Aemond pressed his lips into the junction of your neck again, grunting as he pushed himself to the hilt within you, teeth scraping over your skin as he bit down roughly, drawing a loud pained gasp from you as he came undone.

Thick hot ropes of his spend coated your walls, filling you deeply as your head slumped back against his shoulder, his arms being the only thing holding you up from sliding down to the floor. You breathed heavily, fatigue hitting you as you felt Aemond’s cock throb inside you.

Your mind was gone as you stayed in his grip, the ebbs of your own pleasure still lingering. You were hot, and sticky, wet and tired, and Aemond kept you upright on his cock as he came down from his own peak.

Lips pressed against where teeth had been, a comforting gesture meant to soothe the aching flesh. Aemond shifted back, and you felt his cock begin to slide free from your core. You whimpered at the overwhelming sensation until you felt him pull out completely, his arms still holding you up. He breathed heavily behind you, catching his breath as he held you.

His sticky seed began to drip from your folds, sliding down your inner thighs as you stood in his grip. Your eyes became heavy, and your knees shook.

A kiss was pressed to the side of your head, and the world suddenly tilted.

Aemond lifted you from the floor, hand under your knees, and arm wrapped around your shoulders to hold you close to him as he steadily began to walk towards the bed. His chest radiated heat onto your body as he held you close.

You were so tired, you could barely keep your eyes open, letting the man gently place you down onto your side of the bed. Your eyes shut, the vision of Aemond moving away from you to the side of the room, replaced with the comfort of darkness.

The bed dipped and warmth settled beside you as you let your breath even and the dregs of sleep begin to pull you under. A gentle hand brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, before trailing down the rest of your body. You felt Aemond’s heated gaze and cracked open an eye to look at him.

He was watching you intently, brow covered in sweat, shirt and pants finally removed.

Bare to the world, just as you were.

His silver locks were tousled and messed, completely down and pushed back behind his shoulders. You let your eye gaze to where the scar was on his shoulder, your own flesh aching in its spot.

“Even Hell Cats would fear you.” He murmured, hand trailing down your body as his gaze moved to between your thighs.

You shifted, feeling exposed.

Two fingers trailed down over your mound and you moved to wriggle out of his reach.

“Keligon.” Stop.

You stopped.

His fingers dipped between your folds and you jerked, you were far too sensitive and overstimulated for anymore, but his fingers kept travelling down to your soaked entrance.

With two fingers, Aemond scooped up his seed which had begun to leak from within you, pushing it back inside of you with great care. Your back arched off of the bed as he kept his fingers inside of you.

“Don’t want to waste it.” He purred, keeping his fingers inside you, plugging you full of his seed.

You whimpered and shifted as they sat inside of you, until he pulled them up, fingers coming straight to his lips as he licked your combined releases from his fingers. Aemond hummed as he watched you, wrapping his tongue around each digit as a blush rose on your cheeks.

Your core clenched around nothing and you felt a breathy whimper escape you.

It was all involuntary, you told yourself.

It was all a reaction to what he gave you.

Once licked clean, Aemond’s tongue wet his lips before he leant forward towards you, pressing a chaste kiss to one of your eyes. You closed them out of instinct and felt your uncle pull the blankets up and around you, tugging you against his body. You could feel his softened member between your thighs begin to harden again, but he made no move to act on it.

Instead, Aemond pressed another kiss to your shoulder and mumbled beneath his breath. You were so tired, and his body was so warm, a strange comfort you learnt, that your lids stayed shut, and eventually the comforts of sleep pulled you into its depths.

And from her blood, the Prince that was promised.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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uncomfortably-bowing · 1 year

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there's so much utena discourse around certain aesthetic signatures of the show (in particular, scenes and shots like the sword pulls, the transformations and outfits, etc.) and, like, surface-level discussions over whether these things are "Actually Beautiful" or "Actually Bad."

and i totally get it, especially with regards to some scenes---like the ways in which people have taken the ending scene of episode 33 and turned into weird pastel-pretty aesthetic boards lmao----but i do feel like a lot of the discussion is over-simplistic, and disconnected from the actual framing and themes of the series

utena and anthy's world is full of beauty. it is also full of horror and pain. there is often no clear delineation between the two, and we are forced (quite generously!) to recognize both sides of this.

the sword pulls oftentimes carry feelings of manipulation, hurt, subservience. anthy summoning the sword drives in the repetitive, obedient actions she is forced to repeat time and time again for others as the rose bride. in the black rose arc, they're violent and terrifying. in the third arc, they're stand-ins of the dysfunctions the characters have with the person drawing them, the ways in which their emotions are being twisted and ignored.

and yet! they're beautiful.

they're incredibly intimate moments, in which the two characters---who, generally speaking, are either emotionally or physically estranged from one another---cradle or hold one another, pull out a culmination of that person's essence, as a heavenly light frames the two of them together. the first time anthy does it to utena, it is out of genuine fear for her, her voice quivering with fear as she tries to do anything to help her! it's love! it's an act of beautiful love!

when pressed on how it felt to have their sword drawn, the duelists are flustered---they can't say it was just painful, because it was more than just painful. the screams of the black rose arc turn into something more quiet, ethereal, pretty---and yet still uneasy, unsettling.

a similar conversation can be had about utena and anthy's outfits. they're symbols of their roles as duelist and rose bride, and for anthy in particular it's an outfit emblematic of her status as a static, never-moving prize to be won. the outfits are as ugly as the entire dueling system, and yet---while recognizing this---the show doesn't stray away from associating the dress and the duels with delightful, beautiful imagery. the rose imagery in general is very beautiful and striking, even at some of the more dark moments!

there is an aesthetically pleasing contrast between anthy's dress and utena's uniform---one that goes back ages in terms of our understandings of gender and social status. why is that beauty there? well, for a lot of reasons! one is definitely making us question what we think of as beautiful, particularly in the contexts of gender roles and society (why did we have that gut impulse to see anthy in that dress as beautiful to begin with?) but, for the sake of this post, i think the most satisfying answer is because horror and beauty are usually intertwined in our actual lives.

so much of the show is dedicated to both finding beauty in horrifying situations and seeing how beautiful things are oftentimes pretty horrifying. anthy and utena's relationship is beautiful, but grows out of abuse, sexism, queerphobia, and hurt.

when utena and anthy dance in front of everyone at the ball, how do we interpret that? well, our first instinct is as a beautiful scene of budding love and care between the two of them; our second instinct (especially after watching the show) is that it's another example of the way in which they've both been boxed into these roles of prince and bride---and all as hundreds of eyes are staring at them. when does the line between gender as choice and performance begin, and when does it become oppressive gender roles? when does anthy's performance as the meek rose bride become her real self? when do the two's relationship become loving, and when do they stop hurting each other? when do the ugly things at ohtori become beautiful, and when do all of the beautiful things become ugly?

and there's not really one point, always, although sometimes there are---and sometimes there's multiple points, and sometimes there was no transformation at all, and sometimes things never stopped oscillating between good and bad, ugly and beautiful, scary and hopeful.

and like, even beyond the really radical ways this impacts the queer and feminist readings of the show, i just think that's also very nice. so much of utena is built on recognizing the beauty in the world. the main characters live in a shitty world while leading shitty lives. and they find beauty in it still.

(i will here also add here at the end that when the show wants to make a very clear definitive statement on one of its aesthetics being basically entirely bad with no beauty behind it, it's very frank in its framing. see: any shot with utena in a dress or her girl's uniform)

#rgu #revolutionary girl utena #anthy himemiya #utena tenjou #also i just want to add that like #beauty and ugliness are ultimately very broad concepts and a work can use them in different ways to different themes #ranging from literally just intending the audience to go “oh that's pretty!” to actual commentary #so i also dont think the question of “are we supposed to find the things in utena beautiful” is necessarily the most cohesive #in the first place haha

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sillygoosealert · 1 month

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Good day Daisy! Can I request angst?

Warning: contains miscarriage and character death so please feel free to reject this if you're uncomfortable. But I'm feeling angsty today so here it is...

Imagine Reader and Bi-Han are in an arranged marriage and they're estranged to each other, yet somehow they still sleep together and eventually Reader gets pregnant. She grows emotional by time and wants to feel Bi-Han's love. Yet she feels rejected when her husband doesn't reply to her confession one night and leaves for a mission one day.

Her mood goes down due to this to the point that she barely has the energy to go by the day. She fails to take care of herself that it affects the baby and on the day of her birth she loses it and dies afterwards due to her body's weakness.

Bi-Han is called back from the mission due to this and comes back to see his wife and son dead :3

Hey cutie pie !! I’m comfortable with anything really lol

Where is my wife? No..

Bi-Han angst no comfort, miscarriage, death, AFAB, and implied female reader, like 4 lines talk about light NSFW but it's vague

You were born for the sole purpose of an alliance

A peace treaty, for the Lin-Kuei to have

You are not someone of value, it's more of what you symbolize

Obedience, submission, and loyalty

Nothing more and nothing less

This is why you are with him, this is why you were given a purpose at birth

His doll to show, not to care for though

The night of your marriage he caressed your cheek and laid you on your his bed

Gently thrusting into you, while holding you close

It wasn't intimate though, maybe more of what he felt to be right for your wedding night rather than an act of love or lust

It was nice though, it felt good

He would talk to you when you had to meet for the night, nothing much but more to keep the peace

You had your own room, but on nights you would sleep together you stayed in his

No matter if he said nothing to you or the bare minimum, you would feel flustered every time he was in your proximity

He was good-looking, fit, and a leader

A well put together man

You tried to connect more, eat with him, sit with him

Nothing really worked out

But the nights you let him ruin your innocence grew your belief that there was something there

So the night before he left, you told him your true intentions

‘Bi-Han?’

You are lying in your own bed tonight after his late-night visit

‘Yes?’

‘Does this mean anything to you?’

‘What are you talking about in specific..?’

‘Me.’

…

‘I think that the marriage was a good choice and you are a respectable woman. Is that the answer you are after?’

‘No, I want to know if I mean anything to you’

He brushes your hair behind your ears and presses his forehead against yours

Then he walks away, and closes your door

His lack of words speaks, and you take it as a no

He leaves the next morning to meet with Lord Liu Kang, with no note, no goodbye

While gone you are sick to your stomach, most likely from your rejection

But when you go to the Doctors out of concern for your morning sickness, they do an ultrasound

You are pregnant with Bi-Hans child

It makes you scared, how could you have a kid with somebody who doesn't love you?

You can't sleep that night

And in the morning you're bedridden, throwing up and crying the whole day

Then you didn't eat

Or shower or brush your hair and teeth or anything

The next day you manage to stomach lunch, but everything else makes your stomach churn at the thought

This continues for much too long

You're now pale and frail, with no will to even live

As months go on with Bi-Han returning and leaving you do not tell him you are with child

To avoid him even noticing your weight gain, you stop seeing him entirely

But while you are struggling to get to the doctor he catches you

‘What are you doing? I haven't been able to talk to you in a while..’

‘I’m not feeling well, I was going to get some medication..’

‘For a stomach ache?’

‘Yeah..’

‘They told me you are pregnant, why did you not tell me?’

‘I didn't know how you would react, and you're always on missions I just-’

He puts a hand on your shoulder

‘I am not mad at you. But you don't look well, I'll walk you to the doctor but I want to talk about this when I get back tomorrow.’

You nod.

He takes you to the doctor and leaves you to go meet with a sorcerer

As you talk with the doctor, you pant and shake

The baby is not in good condition, and you are recommended to have an emergency C-section to have any chance of you and the baby surviving

It does not go well, you lose a lot of blood, too much blood

You are very aware you are not going to make it, but you worry for your baby

Everything happened too fast, you just talked to the father that you've been avoiding

Now you're losing your baby and yourself

By yourself

He has just left, and you now have to have a C-section just to maybe live

You didn't want to live, but you don't want to die

Maybe you just wanted something different

But none of that matters, as your baby is stillborn

And you're dying

Alone

Around a bunch of people, you don't know

But you know you really died a long time ago, when you were given away because it was for the sake of keeping the peace

Bi-Han goes to your room the next day

He brought you a flower and some vitamins

He knew you had to get better if you were to start a family together- and for your own sake

The flower was just to give you something nice

But when walking around looking for you, he is met with a talk from your doctor

You didn't make it through the night, neither did your baby

You are gone

Your child is gone

He has no wife, he has no family

He is alone again

You are alone again

There was truly no hope for either of you, you were doomed from the beginning

Just as it was written by the elder gods..

Idk where I was going towards the middle 🎀

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han #bi han x reader #bihan #mk1 bi han #angst #mk1 angst #mortal kombat bi han #mk sub zero #mortal kombat sub zero #bi han sub zero #mk1 sub zero #sub zero #bi han mk #bi han mortal kombat #mk bi han #bi han x you #lin kuei

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

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K's Master List

Hello there! I'm K and welcome to my side blog!

Minors please do not interact with my blog. I will block you. Blank blogs and ageless blogs have the same protocol. It's nothing personal, just trying to protect myself.

I do not do requests. It has nothing to do with you lovely people. I did requests for a previous fandom I was in and because I'm a natural people pleaser, it just became an unhealthy cycle. So, now I only write what I feel like writing.

Please do not copy or repost (i.e. copy and paste elsewhere - reblogging is a different thing and greatly appreciated) my work. This is the only place that I publish these works.

I don't do a tag list for all works since this side blog is exclusively dedicated to publishing and reblogging my own Top Gun content and an occasional announcement.

I do tag lists for ongoing stories/series. Simply reply to or reblog the work/series and say that you want to be tagged

To be tagged, you must have a reference to your age in your bio. No exceptions. It's nothing personal, but because this blog is 18+ Only, I'd look like a dumbass hypocrite if I tagged ageless blogs. Help me help you and put your age in your bio/pinned post.

Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoy my works! My actual Master List is below the cut.

Works are separated by character. Characters with more than five posts have a separate master list. Major content warnings (i.e. pregnancy, death, etc.) are provided but please check each work for more specific warnings.

If you see a [*] symbol, it just means that work is more suggestive.

If a work is listed with "OC | Reader," the 'Reader' is biologically related to an established character (i.e. Maverick's daughter).

OC characters might have an established race/appearance, so check the summary/warnings of that work first.

Top Gun

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

See Separate Master List

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Handyman - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Summary: When it comes time to give your newborn daughter a bath in the kitchen sink, it conveniently breaks. Fortunately or unfortunately, Maverick is a handyman.

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

See Separate Master List

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

See Separate Master List

Javy "Coyote" Machado

A Walk Down Memory Lane - Bradshaw!Fem! OC | Reader

Summary: Rooster and Tweety Bradshaw look through their mom’s belongings as Tweety’s wedding to Coyote approaches.

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

Come Here - AFAB!Reader

Summary: You have your period. Fanboy takes care of you.

Family Man - GN!Spouse!Reader

Summary: After a long day at work, Fanboy returns home to complete his most important job: taking care of his family.

Robert "Bob" Floyd

See Separate Master List

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson

The Admirals Strike Back - Wife!Reader (Mitchell!Reader)

CW: Consensual and Very Much Legal Age-Gap Relationship (About 15 years); Non-Traditional Father-Daughter Relationship (Between Maverick and Reader)

Summary: Maverick knew that his somewhat estranged daughter was married. He just didn't know who she married.

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Bleeding Hearts - Male!Bradshaw!Twin!OC (Braedon)

CW: Hospitals; Exes; Unresolved Feelings; Best Friend's Brother

Summary: After the bird strike, Phoenix's ex, who just so happens to be Rooster's twin brother, comes to check up on her.

Daggers (All 7)

THE FAMILY AFFAIRS COLLECTION >

Mav's Reaction to Each of the Daggers Dating His Daughter - Mitchell!Fem! OC | Reader

Summary: Maverick finds out that his daughter is dating someone that he knows when she invites her new partner to dinner. And so he makes it his mission to greet them at the door first.

The Daggers and Their (Secret) Kids

CW: Pregnancy, see warnings for additional specific CWs by Dagger (include Reference Character Death, Strained Relationships, Divorce, etc.)

Summary: Headcanons about the families that the seven Daggers could have had going into TGM with, since there's nothing about their families mentioned in the movie.

The Love Game - Fem!Reader (Glitch)

CW: Unrequited Love; Angst; Emotional Angst; One-Sided Relationship; ‘He’s in Love with Someone Else’ Trope

Summary: Glitch has been in love with Hangman for years but he’s getting married to another woman.

A.N. Multiple Pairings: Hangman/Glitch; Hangman/Fem!OC; Glitch /Mystery Dagger

#top gun masterlist #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun x you #top gun x oc #tgm #tgm fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm masterlist #k's masterlist

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cryobabyy · 2 months

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Syd's pink pants and notes on color theory

So I got a comment on my fic (chapter 3) about my use of the color pink. For context: The scene in the fic features Carmy having a distracted internal monologue while in a therapy session in which he thinks about his plans to meet up with Syd after. He mentions the pink cargo pants she wore in s2e2. Later on in the fic, he mentions pink again while on the brink of a panic attack.

Anyway, I got a comment today mentioning the use of pink as a symbol for something, which reminded me of why I used it as a literary device in the first place.

I remember watching s2e2, seeing Syd's pink cargos, and being OBSESSED with the juxtaposition. Carmy is such a heavy character. He's usually wearing dark, muted, or plain colors to reflect that. It's a very utilitarian, no fun, no-nonsense kind of look.

Carmy's apartment is equally as bleak. No color, no decorations, almost no personality. It's clearly just the place he sleeps at. And one can imagine that Carmy's apartment isn't a place of refuge for him either. Like, imagine dealing with the aftermath of your estranged brother's suicide, it's a shit show, you come home to an empty apartment, and you wake up and do it again. There's no warmth or homeyness. Syd notices the first time she comes over too.

So the fact that Syd came into his personal space wearing such a quintessentially soft, gentle, and comforting color felt like an intentional choice by the costume department. Like there is nothing more airy and playful than a pink pant!! Plus a fun patterned tote, and a blue bag!! She brings such a brightness to the scene, and (by extension) Carmy's world. She breathes life into an otherwise lifeless space. It's also the first time we see Carmy truly relaxed in his own space, and it's because of the energy and aliveness Syd adds to it.

Anyway, I wanted to portray Carmy as subconsciously associating those adjectives with Syd. Like even as he's on the brink of a panic attack, Syd cuts through the heaviness with her pink pants. Her pinkness grounds him!!!

#psychotic rambling #pls do not show this to my therapist #i will be admitted to a psychiatric institution #sydcarmy #carmy x sydney #chefs kiss #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #SYDENY ADAMU IS A LOVER GIRL #SHE IS OBJECTIVELY A SWEETHEART!!!#ARGUE WITH THE WALL IDC #PINK PANTS FOR THE CUTEST CHEF IN CHICAGO!!!

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rochenn · 3 months

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hiya (((: i was just wondering if ther is any lore behind coast and cruise's tattoos (they're both super cool btw- absolutely love your art (((: ) thank you so much (((((: (and no pressure at all to answer this ask)

Ohh hey no problem! Tysm!! I'm so glad you asked because I had a lot of fun with their tats, there is SO MUCH lore :D

So first off: Cruise!

His forehead tat was a simple pair of Jaig eyes like Rex's at first. Like many of his brothers, he grasped at whatever shards of Mando culture the trainers and Jango left them.

Within the first week of war, Cruise had the Jaig eyes retouched into the typical sharp-toothed nose art you see on aircraft and torpedoes. After seeing the effects of Actual War first-hand, he not-so-secretly thinks of anyone flaunting large Mando warrior symbols as larpers. To him, the GAR's fight couldn't be further from the "glory days" of Mandalorian conquest (he also likes to point out that conquest in itself is kinda cringe. Henceforth, his additional nickname bestowed upon him by the crew has been 'Duchess')

Armband tat with the numbers "212" in a loop around his forearm. After he estranged himself from Mandalorian signifiers, Cruise much rather identified with his unit, hence the infinite 212.

And as for Coast.

MIGRAINE

#migraine man .... somebody save him #oc cruise #oc coast #tcw #lore #ask

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cyliph · 2 months

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Post- Below Zero outfit concept

I wanted to make an outfit more befitting a maze-like homeworld. The PDA draws from locally available materials after all. I think this Robin is a bit more serious than what we see in SBZ.

Design Notes:

This outfit is designed with terrestrial travel in mind. While I do think a two-piece would be more practical, every subnautica protagonist and several NPCs wear a body suit. Being on an alien planet I feel she still prefers the practical safety a reinforced suit like this provides. Push comes to shove she can wear a tank and tie the upper portion around her waste.

Went with purple and green for two reasons: We see past Robin wearing purple, and they are Al-An’s colors (to imply his role in designing it).

Most promo art depicts Robin with her blue and red wetsuit which looks quite heroic and serves to illustrate her strong will. I think it’s fun to think of those colors as likewise symbolizing her conflicted relationship with her sister. Sam wears exclusively blue from what we see, Robin always strives to be her opposite. Red is the color of passion and aggression, a pretty fitting for the ideal Robin holds for herself as Sam’s opposite. Red is also the most notably characteristic of bird robins, which I think is just kind of cute.

In my headcanon purple symbolizes Robin when she’s at peace with herself. It’s a mix of red and blue, symbolizing that shes not as estranged from Sam as she sometimes believes. We see her wearing purple at her most comfortable in the picture with Augstrobite. A muted purple is also useful in showing a Robin that’s more reserved following the trauma of 4546B.

The diagonal lines also serve to reference her alliance with Al-an. Her most notable wetsuit is constructed with bold horizontal and vertical lines, very squarish. Diagonals better suit to illustrate a character that is “off-balance” so to speak. Being on an alien planet thousands of light years away from humans after losing possibly your only family member is probably enough to shake most people’s sense of balance.

I also think that because Robin kept her hair long during the events of 4546B that she probably just likes it long. Imagine how impractical it would be maintaining long hair on an oceanic planet for months on end. Not to mention, at least type 3 hair (Sam seems to have type 4, but it’s not exactly clear what type of hair Robin has. In game she either has braids or locs it’s hard to tell. Either way, not a low maintenance style.) I just think it’s a pretty good symbol of her character, I also think she would let it continue to grow during her time on 4546B and beyond. At some point it’d start getting in the way even in a ponytail. That’s why I think she would start putting it in a bun. A changing hairstyle as a symbol of a maturing character my beloved.

(It also gives me an excuse to draw her hair down in the future >:3c)

#subnautica #subnautica below zero #robin ayou #fan design #concept #fan character #fanfic #how we feeling lesbians

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cosmic-light-fics · 9 months

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I honestly can't get over Carmen Anthony Berzatto getting relationship advice from Neil Fak of all people in "Bolognese".

Neil, the one almost everyone refers to as a child. Neil, the one almost everyone doesn't take seriously. That Neil.

So why have a deep conversation with an unserious person?

Well.... because the conversation isn't seriously about Claire.

It's about Sydney.

The Crane Wife 3 by The Decemberists plays in the background as Carmy suddenly asks Neil "Is Claire my girlfriend?" He could have asked Sydney that question. You know, the person who prompted him to think of Claire as a girlfriend instead of a friend that's a girl. But all he was concerned about in that moment was being a shitty person (to whom he doesn't specify. It's purposely left open-ended).

The song playing draws on the Japanese folk tale of the crane wife. A blogger who analyzes The Decemberists' album The Crane Wife had this to say about The Crane Wife 3.

We begin here with the end of the tale of the crane wife, told from the point of view of the now-estranged husband who deeply regrets driving her away. If you’re like me and you know nothing of the story going into the album, all that you’re likely to pick up on is the fact that a man drove his lover away due to some sort of mistrust or disagreement between them, and you’d probably take the lines referring to her shed feathers and her choice to take flight as metaphors for a scorned woman walking out on the man she once loved, not realizing it’s all actually quite literal, as she was a crane who had taken human form. The source of the betrayal won’t become clear until much later in the album.

Up until this point in the season, Carmy and Claire haven't really faced any dips in their relationship due to Carmy's inability to define their connection. The person who is affected the most is Sydney. Claire hasn't felt betrayal from Carmy. Sydney has: from him standing her up for their palate cleanser, to him not updating her on the structural changes to The Bear, and his most egregious betrayal being the construction of the chaos menu without her. Making the chaos menu without her and gaining input from Claire.

Carmy betrayed Sydney. And I think what compounds this fact is that he decides to confirm who Claire is to him to everyone else except Sydney. Sydney is the one who asks for confirmation, the one who confronts him to decide and yet!!! Carmy never confirms their status to the one person who was concerned enough to point it out.

Who suffers from Carmy's relationship the most? Sydney. She loses his time, his focus, his dedication to their creation. But the biggest thing she loses is their connection (up until Carmy finally decides to give her his full focus in ep. 9).

Nothing confirms all of this more than Sydney's Three of Swords tattoo. A song of betrayal playing in the background as Carmy decides if Claire is his girlfriend, a couple's montage between Claire and Carmy undercut with shots of Sydney, and the reveal of a tattoo that symbolizes betrayal and heartbreak.

#tearing my hair out #going insane #sike i am already insane but this isn't helping #the bear fx #the bear #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #sydcarmy #carmy x sydney #chef's kiss

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asomaton · 3 months

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In light of the news that Nimona got an Oscars nomination I feel I need to talk about the original Graphic Novel, which I love dearly. It started as a webcomic in 2012 and got published in 2015.

Now the GN got picked up by a Fox animation studio Blue Sky in 2015 but Fox was bought up by Disney who later tore down that studio. Perhaps the story of an estranged knight turned to villain because of image branding and dark ambitions of the empire didn’t sit well? At least the story with overt trans and queer-issues didn’t. I WAS surprised when I heard that Disney picked it up and for a time they did work on it. It was 3/4 part done when they shut it down in 2021.

Now that’s a lot of animation work. In comes Netflix (some good animations there) and Annapurna Studios (some good films, GREAT video games) and saves the day. I was happy but cautious. Didn’t like the trailer or the style, but hey it’s happening right?

Now don’t get me wrong. Nimona is not a bad film. It’s quite good and the way it handles gender and HBTQ issues is refreshing but the movie isn’t you know, amazing. (For everyone who thinks it is, good for you but hear me out).

The graphic novel is about two villains, not two misunderstood pure-hearted persons against the world. Blackheart (Boldheart in the movie 😐) is bitter and cold, Nimona is ferral and violent and people who get in their way DIE. They are hunted by the institute, a faceless dictatorship who does inhumane experiments. The King is never seen, a mere media puppet for the institute. It’s the best villain story I’ve read (and yes, I have read Worm)

The character Nimona is the unacceptable other. An anomaly that must be tamed or destroyed. While not as obvious as in the movie Nimona in the GN is of course a symbol for transgenderism. They transform their looks and form all through the book and at times sees themselves as a monster.

Am I sure of this? Well, the author Nate Diana Steveson went from nonbinary to transmasc/bigender and produced She-Ra so my guess is as good as yours.

Now, reading Nimona makes the movie look VERY tame. Was it the rewrite or the short stay at Disney that changed it? How did Stevenson react to it?

Either way, hurray for movie Nimona. Now, please go read the graphic novel Nimona by ND Stevenson.

#nimona #nd stevenson #she ra #worm #nimona gn #oscars 2024

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phoenixlionme · 1 month

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NOTE: I know that Charlie is looking at her father in the gif, I tried to find a pic or gif of her looking the other way but couldn't find it. So, I decided to use this given this is in the same song/scene.

I love this brief Chaggie moment in "More Than Anything" because of how Vaggie's shot in the song is so distinct from the others - Angel Dust, Husk, and Sir Pentious are in the darkness and even though Alastor and Niffty show up after Vaggie's turn, they are also in the shadows of the song. But Vaggie? She is entirely surrounded by the bright light. While Charlie does care and love everyone in the Hotel, Vaggie holds a special place in her heart. And I like to discuss the importance of this shot in three separate forms:

Foreshadowing - Given that it's revealed that Vaggie is a Fallen Angel, her being bather in light serves as a subtle bit of foreshadowing. Angels are often attributed to light and brightness.

Symbolism - As stated in the above paragraph, Vaggie is the one of the main cast featured most prominently in the light for this song; and from Charlie's POV, given the most focus as well. This all makes sense because it has been Vaggie who has always supported and believed in Charlie's dreams and ideas; while also being honest and realistic. Initially, the ONLY one in all of Hell to believe in her. While we don't know their full story about their relationship (aside from their first meeting), I hope (and feel) it'll get explored in Season 2. I think Charlie was in a dark place when she found Vaggie - mother gone, estranged from father, treated like a joke from her citizens, and it's implied she doesn't have any close friends aside from her parents and Razzle and Dazzle; not having a proper support system can wear on one's soul. Then, she rescues an injured Sinner (Angel); they start off as friends then girlfriends, and at some point Vaggie hears Charlie's dream' and maybe the Princess is once again expecting her newfound friend/crush to say it's impossible. But it doesn't happen; instead, Vaggie supports the idea. And Charlie is most likely blown away and falls a more in love with the one-eyed protector. I know given Vaggie's subtle moth theme, people say that she's drawn to Charlie's light, which is true, but so is the opposite - Charlie was drawn by Vaggie's light - not in the literal sense given her Angel heritage but in the symbolic light of hope.

Future Predictions?- I like to think that the aftermath of Season 1 which included Sir Pentious' death (until she learns of his ascension), stress from the Hotel, Lute's possible retribution, Lilith's possible chaotic return, the Vees' aggression, etc. It's all going to take a toll on Charlie, possibly pushing her optimism. Maybe leading to an emotional breakdown like she had in Season 1, but this time? Much worse. But it'll be Vaggie that guides her towards the light - another subtle possible foreshadowing was in the More Than Anything reprise where Vaggie pulls Charlie from the dark side of the hallway to the light.

#vivziepop #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #otp #otp analysis #otp appreciation #myotps #fan theories #my posts

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dynamightmite · 1 year

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Just to be clear, the whole "Deku and Bakugo holding hands by the end of the manga" thing isn't like. Something weird or made up, or even indicative of shipping. It's literally just the culmination of their interactions considering the way Horikoshi centralized "reaching to/for" as being foundational to Bakugo and Midoriya's relationship. Almost all of their big moments can be described as the act of one reaching for the other, both physically and emotionally—and both matter.

The whole reacher/reachee dynamic starts (chronologically for them) at about four, and this one interaction defines the entirety of their relationship going forward.

Notice how Midoriya reaches, and Bakugo shoves him off. He clearly recognizes the gesture, but he absolutely refuses to respond in kind. This is the break in their relationship, the symbolic moment where Bakugo pulls away and Midoriya is left trailing behind after him.

It isn't until years later that Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo again, under similar, but much more dangerous circumstances. One thing hasn't changed; Midoriya is the one originally doing the reaching. What does change is that Bakugo, unlike when they were kids, reaches back:

I think a lot of people pass over Bakugo's response here as unimportant because you have to translate it through seven asshole filters to realize he's roundaboutly trying to thank Midoriya for saving his life, but it's relevant in that it sets the tone going forward. This moment shows that Bakugo is willing to reach back—not necessarily kindly, and certainly not physically, not yet—if Midoriya reaches first. It's the first sign that Bakugo does actually want a reciprocal relationship, even if he can't verbalize or actualize it yet.

We see this extended after Deku vs. Kacchan 1. Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo, chasing him down to do so. While he doesn't reach out physically so much, he emotionally reaches out by (vaguely) offering Bakugo information about OfA.

While Bakugo isn't nice about it, once Midoriya has shown his vulnerability, Bakugo responds in kind, emotionally reaching back to Midoriya. He doesn't leave Midoriya hanging, instead going the extra mile and, unprompted, exposing his own vulnerabilties. This is more movement towards a reciprocal relationship—if Midoriya opens up, Bakugo will follow suit, even if he still won't go first.

It takes their final exam for Bakugo to physically reach back. After Midoriya "reaches" (read: punches, but look at the posing, and how his arm is outstretched) Bakugo does the same. They manage it because it's hidden under the guise of training and teamwork, more violent than anything.

This sequence isn't just physical, though; Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo and reaches through his defenses emotionally in a way that actually affects him. Here, for the first time, Bakugo feels like he's being acknowledged. Seen. Midoriya's right, Bakugo doesn't just give up and neither does Midoriya, and if they understand that about each other, maybe they can manage to understand more. To be more than just estranged ex-childhood friends and rivals. So Bakugo reaches for Midoriya and shows him that he can and will reciprocate, so long as they're doing it on his terms.

It's after this, after Bakugo has realized he maybe can reach back when Midoriya holds out his hand and it won't be terrible, that they're thwarted by the plot. For the first time, Midoriya is prevented from reaching out, physically, and instead does so verbally, and Bakugo, who is also unable to physically reach out, verbally reaches back. Call and response. A pantomime of what they want, and intentionally unsatisfying.

This is contrasted boldly and meaningfully against Kirishima physically being able to reach for Bakugo, who takes his hand without thought.

You'll notice this is mostly a physical act, not an emotional one. Sure, they're both happy to see each other and both their emotions are running high, but this moment isn't meant to be vulnerable and charged the same way Bakugo and Midoriya's reaching out is, because Kirishima and Bakugo have an uncomplicated relationship, while Midoriya and Bakugo do not. This moment is supposed to show Bakugo's individual, personal growth (in that he can even have a reciprocal, uncomplicated relationship built on respect and kindness with another person), but Kirishima's reaching out to him is largely utilitarian and being used within a larger contextual frame. It cannot exist alone because of how motifs function within works as a whole. This moment exists to bring attention to the act of reaching out mutually, and why it matters so much that Bakugo and Midoriya have yet to achieve it.

Having established that they both are actively thinking about this aspect of their relationship, it's only after Bakugo and Midoriya's near miss that things change again. Not entirely—while Bakugo instigates Deku vs. Kacchan 2, he doesn't really reach first. He's still too defensive, still too distrusting of Midoriya's intentions. He instead goes in on the offense, exposing Midoriya by bringing up OfA and forcing Midoriya's hand.

It's only when Midoriya reaches out, both physically and emotionally, that Bakugo breaks and reaches back.

Look at the posing and the positioning of the characters within these panels. Bakugo isn't drawn like this for shits and giggles, he's intentionally shown to be holding his hand out to Midoriya. Their whole fight has been characterized by Bakugo asking Midoriya for things (information about his quirk, the fight itself, why did All Might choose him as successor), and this is one more time. He is asking Midoriya to keep reaching out—to let Bakugo reach back, despite his ongoing rejections. To be there with and for Bakugo as he works through his own issues and to not let go. To let him be weak until he can work up the strength to fully reach back, and even reach first.

Which he wants to do. Desperately.

And when he does...

Bakugo reaches out first in his apology. Emotionally, not physically. Possibly because Bakugo actually tends to be pretty prickly about physical touch, and seems to treat that as more intimate than many of his peers, but I think his choice to reach out emotionally more has to do with Bakugo making the decision to do the difficult thing, to give Midoriya what he deserves. Because reaching out physically is just moving your hand—baring your soul? That shit hurts. That's hard. But it's what Midoriya needs, and it's what Bakugo wants to give.

And now it's Midoriya's turn to reach back. Not emotionally, but physically, stumbling his way to Bakugo. There is no emotional reciprocation on Midoriya's part this time—Bakugo will need to reach out again, later.

It isn't until the very end that Bakugo reaches—physically—first. And for the first time, Midoriya's not there.

The whole point of their relationship, the moment this all suggests they are heading to, is the two of them reaching for each other and being able to connect. Physically and emotionally. That is the entire purpose of this constant back and forth, one reaching out in the hopes that the other will reach back. So far they haven't completely managed, but for the arc of their relationship to be complete, that has to happen.

I understand why this often gets put under a romantic lens, and while it can be, I guess, the motif itself and the arc of their relationship exists regardless of any reader's personal preferances. That's what writing conventions are for, so we can recognize and predict the outcome of the story as intended by the author. The act of reaching out isn't exclusive to Bakugo and Midoriya within the story by any means, but their relationship being defined by the act and symbolized by it, continuously depicted with it as the main focus, is certainly not an accident. It is the culmination, and the ultimate end goal of their relationship, which—again, if writing conventions are followed—should be met. Like I understand that people get told "there's no correct answers in media analysis" but baby, sometimes there are answers with enough supporting evidence that suggesting they're wrong is... I don't even know.

#bnha spoilers #bnha #bakugo #deku #bnha meta #midoriya #bkdk #again not really in the ship way but wtf else am I supposed to tag it with

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