#| my wife my wife my wife always doing the most )

[gojoest]

satoru is big. you always have a hard time adjusting to him when you have sex, and he knows.

he also knows that the first stroke is the most challenging one for you to take, that’s why he goes easy on you. or he tries, sometimes he’s too urgent…

you often tell him that he’s going to tear you apart one day, that it’s a miracle how he fits in that tiny hole every time.

“my cock is made for your pussy only, you will be fine — that’s how god intended it to be”, he reassures you. very smug about the fact that he’s troubling you like this. “…and you were made for me, of course it’ll fit”

“if you don’t take this cock, then who will?” — what a way to swear his loyalty and devotion. you’re the only one for him and the only one he’d ever allow this close — is what he’s trying to convey, in his own way.

“if it’s too big, i can chop it off a little so my wife is happy” — how considerate of you, you think.

yet, you do not dare tease him about it. with the way his head is, he might actually do it, to please you…

[sandwitchstories]

Mouse and The Cookies

Hello, Hello! Here is the next installment in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! (No real rhyme or reason here, only things they in common are Dad!Sukuna and fluff)

Authors note: Yup, still here and still weak for soft Sukuna, Dad!sukuna, husband sukuna and as ALWAYS 4 armed Sukuna.

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Summary: Sukuna is woken up from his slumber by his 2 year old daughter. He tries to get her back to sleep, but like most two year olds at 3am, she has something else on her mind.

WC: 900+

CW: Reader is referred to as Mama but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms) some slightly suggestive humor (it's a two line exchange between Sukuna and reader), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack

Sukuna came awake to the extremely rude feeling of being poked in the cheek. He turned his head to glare at the owner of the finger. His 2 year old daughter stood beside the bed, smiling unapologetically from ear to ear. He blinked his eyes slowly several times and asked, “What are you doing awake, mouse?”

“Papa want to play?” she asked, leaning against the bed.

“No. It’s the middle of the night. Papa sleep. Mama sleep. Mouse, that’s you, sleep. Now go,” Sukuna grumbled at her.

Unperturbed, she grabbed onto his bicep with her tiny little hands. He sighed and used the other free hand on that side of his body to pick her up by the back of her clothes and dangle her above him. He narrowed all 4 eyes on her as she hovered over him giving a toothy smile of enjoyment at her predicament. 

He shook his head and plopped her down between him and your sleeping form. “Go to sleep.”

“No sleep, Papa!” she said, rolling over to stare at him, her head on the pillow. 

“Why not?” he asked, turning his head to look at her. He raised one of his hands to run his fingers through her unruly pink mop of hair. “You don’t feel like sleeping?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Scary dreams.”

He briefly wondered what exactly a scary dream consisted of for a 2 year old. It didn’t matter and he knew it. What mattered was the child needed comfort and you were not awake. This was not exactly his fortee. 

He moved her so that she was laying on his chest with two of his arms wrapped over her. “There, see, you’re safe. Now sleep.”

“Papa fights the bad dreams?” she asked.

“Yeah, Papa will fight the bad dreams. Your Papa is the King of Curses, after all. Your bad dreams will be scared of me,” he told her pointedly, feeling a smug smile on his face as he stared at the ceiling. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this. 

“Mama more scary though,” she commented. 

He was about to argue but stopped himself. He, the king of curses with a body count in the thousands, could be stopped in his tracks by you, a wisp of a woman compared to him. You could make him back down with just a single glare. Hell hath no fury like his wife on the warpath. The kid was right. Well, shit...

“Yeah, Mama is scarier,” he agreed, rubbing her back and kissing her head. “But Mama’s right here too. See? Extra safe. So just go to sleep, Mouse.”

“No,” she said, turning to look at him. “My tummy is hungry.”

“You’re hungry?” he asked, before issuing a sigh and sitting up, he grabbed her under one arm and headed towards the kitchen. She dangled down laughing. He grabbed on to one ankle and lifted her so she was upside down and eye to eye with him. “Hey, be quiet or you’ll wake up Mama. And didn’t we just talk about how scary she is?”

He grinned as he watched his daughter cover her mouth and try not to laugh, her cheeks puffing up full of air. He moved her so he was carrying her the correct way and opened the door to the kitchen. “Alright. What are we eating?”

“Cookies,” she said, pointing to the cupboard that housed them.

He narrowed his gaze at her. She had decided on that very quickly. His eyes got wide as he stared at his cunning little girl. “You wanted cookies all along, didn’t you? You played me like a biwa, mouse.”

She cupped his cheeks and gave his nose a kiss. “You best Papa!”

“You’re damn right I’m the best Papa,” he said as he got the cookies out of the cupboard. 

“I’ll make sure to put that as your epitaph.”

Sukuna and your daughter exchanged identical looks of surprise before turning to look at you. He gasped dramatically. “Uh oh, Mouse. We’re busted!”

“And just what do you have to say for yourselves?” You demanded, hands on your hips. 

You watched as Sukuna set your daughter down, curious what he was up to. Your eyes bugged out of your head as he gave her the bag of cookies with one hand while another pulled you in around your waist and lifted you up off the ground.

“Quick, Mouse! Make a break for it!” he said, pushing her gently towards the exit. 

Your daughter took off at as close to the speed of light as a toddler could manage, making her escape with the haul without looking back. You laughed.  “She’s getting away with your loot!”

“Ehh let her,” he said, pulling you tighter against him and kissing the side of your neck. He spoke in a softer tone against your ear.  “I caught myself something far more delicious than cookies.”

“That may be true, but with the amount of sugar she is about to ingest you won’t get to enjoy that loot either,” you teased. 

He grunted as he realized you were right, setting you down to quickly head down the hallway after the giggling baby goblin. “Hey! Get back here! It’s sleep time, not cookie time!”

“Catch me, Papa!”

“Oh, I’m gonna catch you alright!” you heard him say as their voices grew distant in what was now obviously a game of chase combined with keep away.

You shook your head and sighed as you headed down the hall after them. Every day was an adventure when you were married to the King of Curses. And when you were also the mother of his child? Your work was never done… Well, as they like to say, if you couldn’t beat them… “Ready or not, here I come!”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere malewife Jade <333 He cooks! He cleans! He completely breaks you down, makes you question your reality, locks you up nice and tight to never be let go <3333 what a lad :)

MaleWife | Yandere Jade Leech

Oh yes he is your perfect male wife

Knows to make you healthy breakfeast, lunch, and dinner 

Knows exactly where to touch to soothe you

Knows exactly where makes you moan the most

Knows exactly what to say to have you dismiss the extra money he has

“Jade this is a lot, what have you been doing?”

“Darling it’s from the mushroom collectors club. A couple of my personal growths are quite rare. That’s all.”

“Oh really neat!”

Jade as a malewife is just too perfect too be true

Or he would be if he couldn’t stop smiling at the news displaying the weird coworker’s family cry over their remains 

As the beloved spouse of malewife Jade

You’ll find that as time passes he just gets less tired of hiding what he’s actually like 

Especially since he’s got that ring on your finger

Your bank accounts attached

Your assets equally paid for

And being your closest lifeline

He’s definitely madly in love

So in love with all of you 

He wants to show all of himself too

He knows like a getting into water on a cold day you’ll have to get used to it

But eventually he knows that when he decides to make the decapitated head apart of one of his terrarriums that you’ll still kiss him deeply as you always do

Now you might resist

Or yell

Or cry 

But your malewife Jade knows just what sedative is going to help you understand

And he knows you’ll respect this side of your malewife because he’s going to make you 

Malewife Jade doesn’t need to lock you up…at least not forever

He’ll just make sure you won’t want to leave anyway

What a lad is right

[darkshrimpemotions]

I'm gonna end up doing one of these posts for every character at this rate, but I'm baffled at the number of people clutching their pearls about Laszlo forbidding Nadja from working and making that period comment this season as if this man was some paragon of feminism prior to season 6. He very much was not. He loves his wife, and we love him for that, but a feminist the man is not. He's a wealthy white man from the 1700s and his flaws reflect that! This isn't new to season 6.

Laszlo frequently underestimates and straight up ignores how competent Nadja is compared to him. He claims not to need her help escaping from Animal Control, even when he's trapped in a cage and she's actively saving his ass. He's also shown to be very paternalistic and protective toward her when it comes to Gregor.

Nadja doesn't need him to protect her or rescue her, but he needs to feel like he does those things, and she allows it because she thinks it's sweet (and perhaps appreciates having someone want to take care of her, given how little of that she got as a human).

He also does that thing where he's trying to shield her with his hand, which she finds stupid and annoying. He outright mocks her intelligence and lack of education compared to him due to her belief in ghosts (prompting one of my favorite lines from her, "okay, Dr. Arsehole"). He can't admit she was right when they disagree, even when she's proven right. He doesn't listen to her about the stupid fucking hat even when it's obvious she's correct.

In The Portrait, as @weakformemo pointed out to me, he outright says in his letter that he thought for centuries that she couldn't take care of herself. The woman who turned him, who has at least two centuries on him, and he doesn't think she can take care of herself. And in spite of supposedly thinking she now can, he abandons her and sends Guillermo to protect her against his will. He unilaterally makes that decision without talking to her, which is a pretty shitty thing to do and extremely disrespectful and paternalistic, again.

And it's not just Nadja's intelligence he insults. He's frequently dismissive of Nandor as well.

Their conversation in 6x05 was actually a big step forward because all of this was true! Nadja got to finally express her frustrations with how overprotective and dismissive he is, and he got to express that he knows she can take care of herself and absolutely respects her, but wants so badly to be her hero because she's so amazing.

All of this to say, Laszlo is kind of a sexist, pompous asshole and has been that way from the beginning. Generally speaking, he talks and acts as if he is the smartest, most well-read, and most educated person in the room. But this is a running gag, and the punchline of that gag is that he's almost always wrong.

He's also an incredibly loyal friend who's willing to go out of his way and out on a limb for the people he loves, and he loves his wife more than anything or anyone. He also kills and eats people pretty much daily, and has hypnotized his supposed best friend's brains to mush (which he does feel bad about). He contains multitudes, just like every other character on the show. They all kind of suck, and they're all extremely endearing, and none of this is brand-new information in season 6.

[warblogs17282]

A quick breakdown on how Blitz has made IMP's + Stolas' lives better.

Millie:

To start, Blitz shatters the stereotypes and such Millie grew up surrounded by and believing, more specifically, the stereotypes of that Wrathians are only good for muscle and that all she could be is a simple farm girl or an underpaid goon. Blitz shatters these by quickly calling out those stereotypes as 'bullshit', and proceeds to list off Millie's good qualities, which are much more then just muscle. And well, we definitely see the qualities Blitz said Millie had in her all the time. "You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring."

Plus, the line where Millie said that Blitz made her feel like she could be anything as well, because she believed that Blitz could be anything. Blitz made Millie believe that she could be more than a simple farm girl, more than an underpaid goon.

"He gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend."

Moxxie:

The classic scene where Blitz just talks a mile a minute, never gets old. But seriously, the first thing of note is just how Blitz is instantly able to point out a good quality in Moxxie, that being, the fact that Moxxie is really good with guns. Just look at Moxxie while Blitz is talking about things like his daughter and his plan on how to get out of the prison. Blitz is able to very quickly uplift Moxxie by just being his mile a minute self, and that is a quality I love in Blitz.

Plus, alongside breaking Moxxie out of prison, he also got him a life away from Crimson, his abusive father. Away from the mob life he was forced into, even as a young child.

Plus, I feel like we can also apply Millie's line of "He gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend." to Moxxie. A career, a wife, a future outside of Crimson and the mob family. I imagine the best friend part holds true as well.

Loona:

You all remember why Blitz adopted Loona, right? It's because Blitz saw so much of himself in Loona. Blitz felt the need to prevent Loona from going through similar things that he did, to break the cycle of abuse, to give Loona a caring and loving father that Blitz never had. All of this being a month before she grew out of the adoption system.

And Blitz's love and care for Loona is quite obvious, which Loona herself admits to in s2 e2.

"That doesn't mean they don't care." and "He may not always get it right, but he's trying."

This is the most obvious example of Blitz loving and caring for Loona, that Loona recognizes that Blitz loves and cares for her greatly, despite Blitz being flawed and imperfect (cause let's be real, no one is perfect or not flawed at all).

Stolas:

As well as giving Stolas some of the best days he's ever had in his life, Blitz also gave Stolas the ability to stand up to Stella, the person who abused Stolas for all of those years. To allow Stolas to have his own autonomy, to be his own person, instead of feeling like he has to follow along with whatever Stella and/or the Goetia family wants him to do. He also gave Stolas the courage to get the divorce, which in turn, massively helps to take away the power Stella had over Stolas for all of those years.

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn’t My Middle Name—Chapter Six | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl’s worry for you only grew as the rain fell down heavier and heavier. He would not stop fighting until he got you out of that well, no matter what stood in his way—not even a set of chains.

Warnings: Angst all around. Swearing, allusions to death and torture, blood, near death experiences. Just read with care.

Word count: 3k

A/N: Only one more chapter to go, and then the epilogue. Thank you all for sticking with this series for so long! You all are amazing.

Taglist: @dixons-girl89 @jupiter1700 @enlightndone @shadowcitrine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @holdmytesseract @secretsicanthideanymore @remuslittlesister @daryls-wife @crazyunsexycool

Crash!

Rumble!

Boom!

Whether those deafening sounds came from the harsh thunder or the gun shots of the intruders that had managed to push past Liam Davis’ defenses, Daryl did not know. What he did know, however, was that the rain had not let up even the slightest bit. If anything, it had gotten worse, immensely so, and the crossbow-wielding archer had no idea if the doors to the well you were being held captive in had been closed after his involuntary departure. And when Daryl had asked Lucas about it, he had not gotten the response he had hoped for.

“My wife. S’she gon’ be okay? S’someone gon’ close those doors? Answer me, goddammit!”

“Shut the fuck up! Can’t you see there are more pressing matters at hand than that little whore of yours? Now sit down and be fucking cooperative!”

That had been over an hour ago, and Daryl was nowhere closer to getting himself out of the shackles that bound him to the wall than he was all those weeks ago. He pulled, yanked, leaned all of his body weight forward in the hopes of pulling the chains from the wall, but to no avail. The chances of him getting free was slim, if not nonexistent.

Daryl was extremely worried, and on the verge of a panic attack. He knew for a fact that with the war that was raging on outside in the storm, nobody would care enough about you to ensure your safety. Hell, if they cared about you at all—which they had made abundantly clear they did not—they would not have thrown you down into that well in the first place. These people had proven themselves to be cold, heartless monsters, and if the opportunity presented itself, Daryl would love to watch them, as well as this godforsaken supposed safe zone, burn to the ground.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he gritted his teeth together and leaned all of his body weight forward once more. “C’mon, Dixon,” he muttered to himself, his voice gruff and strained due to the harsh pressure he was using against his shackles. “C’mon, goddammit! Fuckin’ break! Break!”

The chains, ignorant to the archer’s command, did not break. All they did was make a ‘clink’ sound as Daryl leaned back against the wall, his expression one of defeat. Unwillingly, a lone tear trickled down Daryl’s cheek, his heart shattering at the knowledge that he was failing you. You were in danger and he could not save you. He was breaking the one promise he had sworn to himself he would never dare break; he would always protect you.

“So much for that,” Daryl grumbled to himself with a broken scoff, swallowing hardly to prevent himself from full-on sobbing. “Yer fuckin’ useless. Can’t even protect yer wife, not to mention yer unborn baby. Yer a goddamn failure.”

And Daryl truly believed that. He felt like an absolute failure at that moment. He failed his family, he failed his unborn child, and most of all, he failed you. You could be dead in that well and he would not be able to do anything. He was supposed to protect you! To ensure your safety! How could he fail at that? You were the most precious thing in his life, and he was failing you.

He was failing you. He was failing you. He was failing you.

The sound of keys jiggling caught his attention and prevented him from succumbing to the abyss that was his self deprecating thoughts. He looked up and attempted to see who was on the other side of his cell, but he could not. Despite only being midday, the harsh storm outside made his cell appear pitch black, so all he could see was a silhouette. And then another. And another. And then…

“Daryl!”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. He had never once thought that he would be as happy to hear that voice like he was at that moment. The gruffness of the voice, mixed with the southern twang of the accent was one Daryl was all too familiar with.

“Rick.”

The door to Daryl’s prison flew open with a loud bang as soon as that name left his lips, soon accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing into his cell. The beams of multiple flashlights fell upon his face, and the light made it possible for Daryl to make out the faces of his rescuers: Rick, Michonne, and Glenn.

“Daryl, oh my god,” Michonne gasped, her eyes trailing over the multiple injuries on her friend’s face.

“M’fine.” Daryl was not fine, not even in the slightest, but it was neither the time or place to fill them in on what ached and what did not. “Jus’ get me the hell outta these fuckin’ chains. I gotta get Y/N!”

Daryl did not even have to say that, because whilst he was still talking, Rick had already dove down and began breaking the shackles with the bolt cutters he had with him. However, he had gone in expecting to find two people he would need to unchain, but other than Daryl, the cell was otherwise empty. And Daryl’s words, the urgency in his voice when he said he needed to find you only further increased the brave leader’s worry.

Where were you?

“Daryl, where’s Y/N?” Rick inquired, helping his found brother up onto his feet.

Daryl looked at Rick, terror in his eyes. “Hopefully not where I think she is.” He wiped his hands on his tattered shirt. “Get a long rope and meet me at the wells. M’gon’ be at the one with the wooden doors.”

Before anyone could make any inquiries as to what he meant, Daryl pushed past them, taking off in a dead sprint out of the cell. He ran up the stairs of the basement, up into the living room—the location where it all went wrong—and out the front door. The rain fell down on him heavily as his bare feet made contact with the muddy ground below him, but he did not care. He only had one destination in mind, one goal in mind; he had to find you. He just prayed to whatever higher entity was listening that he was not too late.

The seemingly endless amount of wells soon came into the archer’s view. He sped up his pace, if that was even humanly possible, and begun heading straight for the one that stood out from the others—the one with the open doors. His suspicions had been right. The bastards had not even bothered to seal you away from the increasingly worsening weather.

The icy water droplets fell onto his body in a cold shower as he skidded to a halt in front of the well. He braced himself on the edge of the well and peered down, his ocean-coloured eyes zoning in on the sight below. At first, he could not see a thing, his vision obscured by the droplets that fell into his eyes due to the wind that blew them in his direction, but then he saw it. He saw you, floating at the bottom, the well already filled with water.

“Y/N!” Daryl called down. At first, he had feared his voice was drowned out by the storm, but when you looked up at him, he felt relieved.

“Daryl!” you called up to him, your voice tinged with absolute terror, making Daryl’s blood run impossibly cold. “Help me! Please! I can’t get out!”

Daryl heard his name being called, and he looked over his shoulder. He saw Carol in the distance, accompanied by Abraham and Rosita. He did not wait for them to catch up to him. He needed to help you.

Hoisting himself up onto the edge, he jumped down into deep hole, completely disregarding his own safety. His body soon collided with the chilling water below, and when he only narrowly grazed the bottom with his feet, he realized that the water was deeper than he had initially thought.

He resurfaced and took a deep breath, wiping his wet hair out of his face and looking around for you. When he spotted you, he swam over hurriedly, his heart pounding against his chest.

“Sweetheart, oh my god,” he panted breathlessly. He took your face in one of his hands, his thumb gently rubbing over your cold as ice cheek. “Yer okay. I gotcha. We’re gon’ get out, alright? Rick’s here and he’s gon’ bring a rope and we’re gettin’ out.”

“Daryl,” you began with a broken sob, “I can’t get out.”

The archer frowned at that. “What? Whatcha mean? ‘Course yer gon’—”

“I can’t,” you insisted through your tears. “I can’t free my legs.”

Daryl’s heart stopped at that. He removed his hand from your cheek and ducked down beneath the water. Although the water made it hard to see, he could make out the faint, unmistakable glint of chains that were similar to the ones that had kept him shackled in his cell. That knowledge made the archer’s heart drop to his stomach.

When he resurfaced again, Daryl looked at you, and he could see the terror on your face. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and reassure you that everything would be okay, but he could not do that. You needed to stay afloat, and Daryl needed to come up with a plan—fast.

“Daryl,” your broken whisper reached his ears, and it shattered his heart into pieces. “I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

If there was one thing about you that Daryl had initially been drawn to, it was your fearlessness. The reality of the world you were forced to live in had toughened you up from that scared, meek woman he had met at the quarry. You did not scare so easily, so hearing those words come from you made his body fill with dread.

“I know ya are, Sweetheart. But I’ll figure it out. I won’t leave ya here.”

Where the hell was Rick? He needed those goddamn bolt cutters! However, Daryl supposed he could not be mad at his found brother for taking so long. The discharge of multiple weapons had started again a few minutes ago, so it was clear that he was not taking his time just to be spiteful.

The water had risen immensely in the mere five minutes that the archer had been down there with you. The water surrounded your body almost entirely, save for your neck and face, although those too would soon be emerged under water if Daryl did not think fast.

You would drown if he did not do something.

Reemerging beneath the icy depths of the steadily rising water, Daryl swam over to the shackles that bounded your feet to the concrete below. Perhaps the water would played to his advantage and would have weakened the metal. Or maybe it would serve as some kind of lubricant that would help you slip free. He had to hope for the best.

Daryl began tugging at the chains, and similarly to his own ones he had sported earlier, they would not budge. Despite every pull, yank, and kick, the metal did not budge. That was a problem. That was a major problem.

His lungs burning and in desperate need for air, he swam up and resurfaced, taking a big breath. However, his breathing got choked off when he noticed just how quickly the well was filling up. The water was now up to your mouth, and you had to tilt your head back to prevent the water from entering your mouth.

“Shit!” Daryl cursed loudly. “Just hold on, sweet girl. Hold on. Yer gon’ be okay.”

Daryl knew his words were futile. The reassurance that he was throwing your way did not mean a thing. The chains would not budge, despite his best efforts. The water would soon engulf your entire being, and Daryl was powerless to stop it.

He was failing you. He was failing you. He was failing you.

You sent him a strained smile as the water begun filling up around your face. “I love you,” you told him softly. If you truly were about to die, you wanted the man in front of you to know that you loved him. That was what you wanted your last words to be. Not your admission of fear, not begging for Daryl to save you. You wanted to leave this world having let your amazing husband know that you loved him. That was how you wanted to go out.

Your mouth got submerged under water, soon followed by your nose, and all Daryl could do was watch. Watch as your entire body got submerged beneath the water. Watch as you closed your eyes as you begrudgingly accepted your harsh, undeserved fate. Watch as your life slipped away, and he was powerless to stop it.

Refusing to accept what was happening, Daryl ducked down beneath the water and once again attempted to free you from your chains. He tugged, he pulled, he kicked and bashed, but it did not work. He could not save you. You were drowning, and Daryl was forced to watch. There was nothing he could do at that moment.

Daryl could see the moment you lost consciousness. Despite being underwater, Daryl saw when your body went limp. In a last ditch effort, the archer swam over to you, grabbed your body and begun tugging you backwards with all the might he had. However, it was not enough. Nothing he did was enough. You were dying, and he could not prevent that from happening.

The need for air soon made itself known to Daryl, and it forced him to let go of your body and swim up to the surface. When he did, however, he heard his name being called. He looked up and strained his eyes, and he could see Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Abraham, Rosita, and Carol standing there.

There was still hope. “Rick, throw the bolt cutters, and prepare the rope!” he yelled up at the group as loudly as he could. Thankfully, it was loud enough, because the object soon came hurling down at him, splashing into the water.

Daryl wasted no time. He dove back down into the water and grabbed the sinking bolt cutters. He quickly swam over to the shackles and proceeded to try and cut them loose. It took a couple of tries, but thankfully, he managed to do it. Your body—now free from its confinement—drifted to the top, right where it needed to be.

Releasing the bolt cutters, Daryl hurriedly swam up and grabbed your body. He resurfaced with you in his arms, tugging your body up so that your head was above the water. Luckily, the rope that Daryl had requested was already thrown down and ready to be used, much to his great relief.

“Jus’ hold on a bit longer, Sweetheart. We’re almost there,” he mumbled to your unconscious body. With great effort, he swam you both over to the rope. He quickly tied the rope around both of your bodies and held you tightly in his embrace, trusting that there had to be enough manpower up there for them to be able to pull you both up in one go.

“Alright, pull us up!” he called up at the group.

The next few moments passed in a blur. Slowly, but surely, you and Daryl got pulled up from the well. Daryl kept whispering words of reassurance to your limp, possibly dead body, praying that you would be okay. He hoped that he was not too late.

You and Daryl got helped over the edge of the well by multiple people. Daryl looked up momentarily and could make out that there were a lot of people there, even some people in the community he did not know that well. However, his attention soon turned back to you.

Quickly removing the rope from your bodies, Daryl laid you down on the ground. He situated himself over you and pressed his hands against your chest, before beginning a steady rhythm of CPR. He could feel droplets trickle down his cheeks, and whether they were from the rain or from his tears, he did not know, nor did he care.

Ah, ah, ah, ah. Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive, and repeat. That was the stupid motto you had drilled into his mind back when you were being taught to do those types of medical procedures by Hershel. He had offered to be your test dummy, and you had kept singing that particular line of that song over and over again. He had thought it was stupid back then, but now it was coming in handy. He just hoped it would work.

Daryl could vaguely hear panicked voices around him, followed by people darting towards the approaching threats and ridding them of their weapons and forcing them to the ground, but he paid them no mind. His only concern was saving you. However, it did not appear to be working. You were not spitting up any water and gasping for precious breath. You simply laid motionless, possibly dead.

“C’mon, Y/N. Wake up!” he muttered desperately. “Wake up, please!”

As a last resort, Daryl did the one thing he never in his life wanted to do to you; he began hitting you, against your chest, hard. He repeated it once, twice, three times, when it finally happened. It finally happened, much to Daryl’s immense relief.

You woke up abruptly, coughing up water. Daryl helped you lean forward and patted your back, helping you rid your lungs of the liquid in them. You inhaled shuddering breaths, falling back against Daryl’s chest and closing your eyes as your husband wrapped his arms around you.

“Daryl,” you whimpered out brokenly, seeking the comfort of the man you loved more than life itself.

Daryl pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes as tears trickled down his face. There were so many people around the both of you, but he did not care. He was just so glad that you were okay. Nothing else mattered.

“M’here, sweet girl. M’here,” he muttered into your hair that was drenched in water. “Yer okay. I gotcha. I promise I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ else happen to ya.”

And for the first time since setting foot onto the cursed grounds of the Sunny Meadows community, you truly felt safe, at home, in Daryl’s arms.

[cianfries-stuff]

Welcome, everyone, to my TED Talk. Today, we're diving into my humble top 3 most striking declarations of love from Dean to Sam so far.

3. Croatoan. Dean wanted Sam to infect him with the Croatoan virus so they could die together. I bet that if the doctor hadn’t come back two seconds later to free them, Dean would’ve cut himself on purpose and infected himself so that Sam wouldn’t have to do it once he lost control. At that point, all that was missing was George Michael’s Careless Whisper in the background, and they might as well have ended the series right there.

2. The siren. In the show, the siren transforms into the person you desire most in the world. For Dean, that person isn’t a lover, a girlfriend, or a wife—it’s a version of Sam who loves him more than he believes the real Sam does, and who’s as devoted to him as he is to Sam. In fact, what Dean wants the most is to be loved by his baby brother. I can't believe this is actually a canon event.

1. Dean’s heaven. When he gets to heaven in season 5, he relives the memory of when he and Sam shot off fireworks for the 4th of July. This moment gives us a glimpse into his deepest feelings:

Dean has always felt this way about Sam.

His affection hasn’t changed over the years—from the time that memory took place to his arrival in heaven, despite all they’ve been through: demon blood, fights, trying to kill and save each other repeatedly. What he felt back then as a kid is exactly what he feels now as an adult, except now it comes with the bittersweet nostalgia of knowing it’ll never come back.

Dean’s idea of heaven doesn’t center on his own happiness—it’s about Sam’s. And it’s even better if he is the reason Sam is happy.

And if that’s not enough, Dean openly admits how painful it is to realize that he doesn’t even appear in Sam’s heaven. I think we can safely call this moment a not-as-subtle-as-dean-thinks declaration of love and devotion. Interestingly, in that episode, we see a string of Sam’s memories but only one of Dean’s—and Sam doesn’t even witness it. It really makes you wonder what other memories might make up Dean’s heaven…

One more thing: that scene reminds me of the one in Edward Scissorhands where Winona Ryder’s character dances in the snow. It’s fascinating to compare the two, because one scene should depict brotherly love while the other shows romantic love, yet to me, they seem almost identical. And honestly, I think Dean and Edward have a lot in common—but that’s a topic for another TED Talk.

So, to wrap things up: Dean is madly in love with his little brother. Thank you all for listening.

I'm only up to season 5, so this is a partial ranking. Stay tuned for more rants!

[archangeldyke-all]

I feel this is somewhat fitting for today,

So reader comforting sev after silco died (I feel she is the most sad out of everyone because she always saw him as some sort of father figure ngl and he sorta neglected her or never validated her)

-🫖

:( my poor baby. he's like her fucked up bestie/boss/dad

men and minors dni

they send lock or deckard to tell you if sevika's gonna be late getting home.

thieram if she's drunk and moping at the bar.

but ran only ever comes when something bad's happened.

and jinx has never accompanied any of silco's goons on one of these errands.

you assume the worst. your heart drops to your ass at the sight of ran and jinx on your doorstep, both looking haggard and scared.

jinx reaches out and grabs your arm before you can start weeping, shaking you a bit. "relax, would ya? it's not her, she's fine she's just..."

you gulp, looking to ran. they sigh. "silco's dead. she's... just sitting in his office... drinking."

jinx breaks into tears on the walk to the last drop, disappearing in an alleyway for the night. ran is solemn as they lead you to the bar.

"w-what happened?"

"dunno. jinx won't say. think she mighta killed him." ran shrugs. "think she did something bad in piltover too. shit's stirring and silco's dead and sevika's supposed to take over if this happens but--"

"take a breath." you say, patting your friend's back. "'s okay. she's gonna be fine."

this isn't true. but you know your wife wouldn't want you telling her troops any different. sevika's going to wake up sobbing for years to come, just another thing on the long list of losses that haunt her. you'll be there, though, like you are now-- to hold her and let her cry in your chest-- to remind her that she's got you. and you've got her.

she's slumped asleep on the couch when you enter silco's office. ran leaves you alone, closing the door behind themselves as the leave.

"sev." you whisper, gently nudging your wife. she snaps awake, taking a moment to drunkenly register her surroundings and your face, before she bursts into silent tears, leaning forward to bury herself against you. "fuck, honey." you coo, wrapping her up into a hug. "i'm so fuckin' sorry."

"i can't believe he fucking died. he's fucking invincible!" she cries. your heart shatters, and you kiss her scalp.

"sevika, baby. you know he isn't."

"but-- it's my fucking job to make him invincible and--"

"sev." you pull her face away from your chest, wiping up her tears and forcing her to look you in the eye. "it's your job to take over if shit goes south. that's your job. silco was not a god-- he was a man. and there is nothing you coulda done to save him, baby."

"i..." she trails off. you frown, already knowing what she was going to say, your heart breaking.

"you're gonna miss him."

she nods. "i fuckin' hate him, too." she says.

you chuckle, nodding. "i know, baby. that's the power of love."

sevika huffs and leans against you again. "how long do i have before shit gets real bad out there?"

"long enough to come home and get a proper sleep in." you say, dragging her toward the door.

sevika doesn't resist, letting you take her home. letting you care for her.

you kiss her before you leave the office, sweet and chaste but for long enough that you melt together. "thank you." you sigh.

"for what?"

"letting me take care of you before your big debut... sevika... the lioness of the lanes." you tease. sevika snorts at the nickname and rolls her eyes, and your heart flutters in your chest at the sound.

hi if u know who came up with the lioness of the lanes nickname pls lemme know so i can credit them!

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[beef-brisket]

((Same Adam, my family makes me sick to 😂))

Sera: So! Lucas. It's so great to finally meet you. I was worried for a minute that you were just another one of those "ghosts" Addie goes on about. Ha!

Lucifer smiled and chuckled: Well, now you know I'm real~.

Sera! Oh, certainly! I have to ask, how did you and Adam meet?

Lucifer: Uni. I was doing a filming and camera equipment course. We ran into each other at the library and got to talking.

Sera: Isn't that sweet! It's almost like the good lord above had planned you two meeting! That's simply wonderful!

Lucifer cringed internally. He hates having people mentioning his father.

Lucifer: ha- yep. Good ol... God.

Sera: How are you liking walking through old, rank buildings for a living? It must be dangerous- anything could happen to you two!

Lucifer: Sometimes, but Adam really researches the places we go. Get a rundown of the history, the building reports. Most are tourist attractions. He's just able to sweet talk the owners into giving us the keys! And allow us to wonder around at night.

Sera: That's Adam for you! Always the smooth talker. A real ladies man- oh, speaking of. ADAM!?

Adam answers from the bathroom: YEAH!?

Sera: DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YET!?

Adam: ohmygod- NO MA!

Sera: WELL, GET ONTO IT! I WANT GRANDKIDS AND EMILY IS CHILD FREE!

Lucifer chuckled, if only she knew.

Adam: MA! JUST DROP IT! FOR ONE VISIT!?

Sera: FINE- FINE! Lucas, dear. You don't happen to have a single sister by any chance?

Lucifer: No, sorry, Sera. I've only got brothers.

Sera: Oh, well that won't work... I tell you, Lucas. That man is more focused on ghosts and ghouls than finding a wife and settling down- YOU CAN'T HAVE SEX WITH GHOSTS, ADAM!

Adam: what-!? I'M NOT HAVUNG SEX WITH GHOSTS!

Sera rolled her eyes: Sure, he's not. You keep an eye on him for me, Lucas. I don't want no funny business.

Lucifer: Don't worry, Sera. My eyes won't be leaving him anytime soon~.

Devil Lucifer x Ghost Hunter Adam

@beef-brisket ((Here it is lol))

Adam is trying to prove that ghosts are real so he started a YouTube channel with his friend Lucifer, who unbeknownst to Adam is the literal Devil.

-

Adam: I'm telling you Lu, this place is super haunted I can feel it.

Lucifer was unloading their filming gear as they got ready to go into this supposedly haunted prison.

Lucifer: I don't know Ad, you'll need more proof than just the wind.

Adam frowned: It was a whisper and you know it.

[hopefulidiocy]

Perfect

Prince!Aemond x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, HARD LABOUR, BLOOD, SLIGHT SLIGHT SMUT IF YOU SQUINT

A/N this is filler whilst I’m away

~

The baby pulled on your back as you waddled through the Gardens of the Red Keep, listening to the birds swimming through the air with their happy tunes; which was a complete contrast to how you were feeling. You knew your ultimate goal was to give your husband a baby, you knew that you had only married each other for the financial gain to give at least one male heir that can be in the line for the throne. Your family owned most of the North, all being Lords and Ladies and owning the biggest castles and palaces. Something King Viserys couldn’t let go. You had wondered, often, why you were the chosen one and not your sister, who was Aemond’s exact age. You were two years younger than him.

Your pregnant belly served as a reminder of who you were to the Keep, Queen Alicent came in every evening after supper to check on you but not to see how you were, to see how her grandchild was. She would constantly refer to the baby as a he and it would further enforce a worry that was so overwhelming you were often worried that your own baby might die before you get to meet them. If this baby wasn’t a boy, she didn’t know what she would do, she would be a failure and Aemond would probably take on another wife; but it won’t be his own decision, it’ll be his mothers. In the last three years you had been married, you broke all rules and fell in love. Aemond treated you like a precious jewel despite being cold hearted and strong headed, he would demand respect for you when you were unable to demand it for yourself. He was the one who stuck up for you when his mother had a doctor check that you could bear children as it was expected to be pregnant within a year of marriage. But you and Aemond made the secret decision to wait to try for a child, your sex had been as protected as it could be and it was still just as amazing. Sometimes, though, you wondered whether Aemond would be unhappy at the birth of a daughter. You hoped he wouldn’t be but you already had a happy marriage unlike most of the world; it would be tedious to hope for a man that would be happy at the birth of a girl. Somewhere inside of you, you harboured that childish wish, hidden and deep.

“Princess Y/N.” Helaena was by one of the stone arches, leaning against it with a spider in her hands. She didn’t look up when you approached her. “He’s unhappy.”

“Who is?” Helaena had always been a little weird, always playing with her insects and you hated to admit that you kept a distance because she always seemed to be staring. However, as you were around, you both warmed to each other to a nice conversation in the Keep hallways.

“My spider.” She pouted, opening her palm to big, spindly, black thing that made you shiver and step back. “Got a broken leg.” She pointed to one of the front legs which was wonky and stopped him from walking normally across her palms.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say until a small, sudden dull ache shot across your body. It wasn’t pain enough for you to groan or shout, just a quick wince and a palm on your stomach was enough. You stroked it up and down, feeling your stretched skin and the hardness of your baby curled up. Suddenly, Helaena reached out and placed her milky hand on your belly, a smile stretching across her lips. “What is it?”

“You’re going to be so happy.” She whispered, almost to herself, she removed her hand and disappeared down the hallway without a goodbye. Your back began to pulse, it usually did this if you walked around too much, the baby was almost ready so it wasn’t a surprise that your body began to shatter away after a ten minute walk.

~

Two guards posted outside of your chambers highlighted that Aemond was behind them, your heart still pitched whenever you were around him and you wished that blissful feeling would never end. The guards nodded at your arrival, opening the doors and revealing your grand, dark oak decorated chambers with high ceilings that depict your House and the Targaryen House. That familiar smell of polished leather wafted from the open balcony doors, the white silk rippling in the breeze. You waddled towards the doors, seeing the back of your husband leaning his hands on the iron fence.

“Aemond?” You questioned, walking out but before you got to his side he turned around. Without a word, he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist and even though hugging these days was much harder; he always made it work.

“Y/N.” He breathed, kissing your cheek and his arms still clasped around your waist. You looked up at your beautiful husband with one eye, your hands softly resting on his forearms. “Are you okay? You’re looking flushed.” He hand cupped your cheek, stroking it softly before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I should really stop going on these walks, Aemond. They’re causing havoc with my back.” You rubbed at your lower spine which was twisting in pain. He hummed in response, his eye looking over you in worry. “What’s that look for?” You questioned.

“I want a doctor to see you.” He said, removing his arms and placing his wide palms on your stomach; a feeling you absolutely loved.

“No, I don’t want a doctor. It’ll be the same one your mother had. I’m happy with my midwives, they’ll take good care of me, Aemond. I promise. You need to stop worrying.” You cupped his face, stepping on your tiptoes and kissing his soft lips.

“Baby, I know you don’t like him but do this for me? Just to keep my mind rested?” He questioned, playing with your hair net that kept your long hair in check. You groaned, leaning your forehead against his chest.

“Fine but make him bring a tonic for my back, okay?” You shifted back and walked towards your four postered bed, climbing on it on all fours before you melted into the soft pillows and silk sheets; your back instantly mended.

~

You must’ve slept for around forty minutes because a dull pain thundered in your back, you whined as your eyes pulled open to see Aemond and the doctor just arriving. The doctor was a stout, round little man with a face like a smacked ass most of the time and probably thinking that he didn’t want to be anywhere near a pregnant woman and was best at mending wounds on the battleground; you thought the same.

“Help her up for me.” He demanded, Aemond wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently to a sitting up position but you were too busy groaning with the twisting pain in your back. “Legs spread.” He clicked his fingers at you, as he opened his toolbox of very scary and sharp items that made your legs shudder.

“Is he going to use them on me?” You asked Aemond, who was now sat by your side, he shook his head but his face was lined with worry. The doctor struck his hand between your legs, making you hiss, the pain suddenly there than in your back. He grunted to himself as his fingers roamed around, you twisted around to fight the embarrassment of this moment in front of your husband.

“Damn you, Doctor. What is it?” Aemond basically shouted, shocking you.

“It’s time.” He said nonchalantly, shrugging and packing up his toolbox. “Get your servants to fetch the midwives.”

“I��ll have your fucking head for that attitude! This is my fucking wife, who you have just said, is in labour! She’s giving birth weeks before she has to! And you just say ‘it’s time’!?” Aemond was towering over the doctor now, as you wept into the back of your hand. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. You hadn’t prepared for the actual birth yet and you certainly hadn’t taken the tonics made for a healthy birth, you hadn’t offered anything to the gods because you simply weren’t to give birth yet. You would’ve done all of this next week, it was next week’s plan and then the week after would be your birth.

“Aemond!” You shouted, he came right to your side. “Please, please just get my midwives.” He was gone in an instant.

~

You were flat on your back within twenty minutes, your dress completely vanished and you left in your underclothes as your legs spread, your feet dangling in the air as two midwives hold them aloft, your forehead drenched in your salty sweat and cold water as Alicent kept soaking your head in some cold water tonic. Your stomach groaned, your organs shifted as you screamed; your spine splitting vertebrae by vertebrae just to make you suffer for longer. The head midwife was between your legs, checking your dilation but at this point, you had no idea what was going on. Your lower back sawed in half and the feeling went trembling through your legs, hitting at every nerve as fat tears began to soak your cheeks.

“There is no movement.” One midwife whispered to the Queen, you looked to your left to watch the conversation with blurry eyes, your face growing hot and the sweat perking up on the crown of your head. Alicent looked tense for a simple moment before turning to you, with a soft smile on her lips.

“What’s happening?” You whispered, your voice raw as she shushed you like mother, stroking your hairline as she wet your head once again. Little did you know, the midwives were readying to have the doctor cut you open with one of his sharp knives. Alicent kept stroking your head as the pain awoke inside of you, your uterus feeling split open by the muscle contractions.

Outside in the hallway, Aemond waited with King Viserys and his brothers; picking at the tips of his nails as he leaned nervously on the wall. The sounds of your screams echoed throughout the hallway, creating a cold film across Aemond’s skin as his mind couldn’t rest from not being in that room and by your side. He should be the one to wet your head and hold your hand, he was the father after all. But this was how it was done.

“Are you excited to fuck her again?” Aegon smirked, his short brother was opposite him with his disgusting piglike face. Viserys audibly scoffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He never said anything when the boys would say some horrible shit to each other. Aemond looked at his brother with disgust.

“Shut up, Aegon.” He wouldn’t lose his temper, not today of all days. He would beat the shit out of him at the next military training day. He would show him, again, that he was the stronger brother.

“She’ll be fat though. You alright with fucking a fat woman?” In a flash, Aegon was up against the wall with Aemond’s forearm hard across his next, pushing harder and harder.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife again. Never again should she come out of your mouth unless you don’t want your tongue. I can rip your tongue out with my bare hands.” Aemond hissed, spitting in his face before a familiar sound screeched through the hallways.

Back in the room, you were squirming with pain and your poor back was now completely snapped from the lightning that kept shooting through your body. You knew that the baby wasn’t moving, you were crying with fear of delivering a dead baby, of failing the one thing your body was made to do. Your back arched towards the ceiling as your nerves ignited and your hands growing numb from the pain that bounced off every bone in your body. You felt yourself begin to slip away, your eyelids heavy and your jaw slacking to one side and before the darkness enveloped you, you screamed out one word.

“Aemond!”

Instantly, Aemond was in the room, his chest heaving up and down as he scanned the room. His heart stopping at a halt when he saw the blood, the clots, the sweat that surrounded your legs; your calves and feet completely coated in deep red blood that was already dried by the time Aemond had made it into the room. Then his eyes travelled from your feet, up to your knees that were spread either side of your body to your rounded belly that hadn’t deflated yet and you. Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw your eyes closed shut, your mouth open like you had just been screaming but now frozen in time. His mother clutched at the wet rag, watching you with grief stricken eyes. The midwives had stopped doing their work and now stood around to look at you with tears streaming down their faces. Aemond’s boots clicked as he made his way to your side, your face serene and peaceful, he kneeled by you and stroked your hair out of your face.

“Aemond.” Alicent placed her elegant hand on her son’s shoulder but he shrugged it off without taking his eye off his beautiful wife, the one woman he loved with his entire being. He shifted his gaze to your chest and saw that it was still moving up and down.

“She’s still breathing.” He said, with little urgency because he suspected they knew this. Alicent looked towards the midwives to answer.

“We must persevere to save your child.” One of them said, Aemond scoffed.

“I want you to save my wife as well.” He demanded with a soft tone, trying not to lose his temper.

“It is either one or the other, my son. Both will not survive.” Alicent said softly, whispering towards the end as if to sound upset. Aemond couldn’t handle this for much longer.

“MY fucking wife!” He shouted, jumping to his feet and marching towards the midwives. “My wife, the only woman I have ever loved and you are letting her die! She’s young, she’s beautiful and you are leaving her to die in fucking pain.” They winced at his anger as he marched back to his mother. “And if it was my mother who gave the orders to murder my wife then I want her fucking gone. Out of my sight and away from her.” He spat at her feet before turning to you, your eyelids fluttering as he was instantly on his knees, he ignored the sniffles behind him as Alicent silently exited the room.

Your eyes opened slowly, peeling your eyelids from each other and you saw, behind the blurry curtain of your eyesight, your husband with his hand stroking your cheek so softly it was like he wasn’t doing anything. His face had tear streaks and his lips shuddered a little as he watched you open your eyes. For a moment, there was no pain. Only him. And you kept your eyes on him as he brought his lips to your nose, pressing on the tip gently.

“Aemond.” You croaked, reaching out for his hand in slow motion. He met you in the middle, bringing your fingers to his lips.

“Hello, baby.” He whispered. “You fell asleep for a few minutes but now it’s time to have the baby and I am here, I will stay by your side forever and you will never have to scream for me or cry for me ever again. I promise.” Tears rolled down your face as he softly kissed your lips. “Are you ready for this, my love?” You nodded, unable to speak because that twisting pain came back and you tried to haul yourself up with the one arm that was free but the midwives kept you down. The head midwife checked between your legs and nodded at Aemond.

“Keep breathing for us, Princess. You’re almost there.” You breathed in through your nose and exhaled through your mouth, your body relaxing with every exhale as if you’re letting go of all the pain and suffering you had gone through. Between your legs, you felt a stretch unlike anything else and a sharp pain that tore through your body and made you cry out in pain. “Lift up her torso for me.” She commanded, two midwives came at either side but Aemond stopped them.

“This is my child. Let me be a part of it.” He climbed onto the bed behind you, shifting his legs so you were settled between them before pulling up your body so gently it was like you were floating and now you were hitched up against his chest, your legs being held by the midwives that were going to lift you up. “Push for me, baby.” He whispered, holding you and you felt the strength to push down against your pelvis, feeling a slight movement as you breathed in and on the breath out, you pushed down; grinding your teeth until you were groaning. “Come on, baby.” He squeezed your forearm and you pushed again, until you felt something the size of a ball exit your body and for the last time, you pushed until a new cry splintered the room. The midwife pulled the crying baby from you and held it up to determine the sex. Her face dropped.

“A beautiful, healthy, baby girl.” You would be lying if you said you were ecstatic at the reveal, but you weren’t too disappointed either. You worried more about Aemond’s reaction so you looked up to find him crying, his eye patch lifted onto his shoulder as he squeezed his real eye and sapphire eye with his index finger and thumb.

“Bring her to me.” You said, your body now in a dull ache. Wrapped in silk cloth and cleaned and beautifully pink, your baby laid in your arms, her little fingers clutching on her blanket as you looked down at her. Your breath was taken from you when her eyes opened and reached for her mother, a sob emitted from your throat as the realisation that this perfect baby was yours to love and nurture. She was yours to admire. She was all yours.

“Gods, she is perfect.” Aemond whispered, bring his hand to the top of her head. He held her head gently, his thumb stroking the tiny strands of hair that she came out with. He reached down and kissed her forehead, kissing your cheek as he made his way back up to sitting. “Well done, my love. Well done.” He placed butterfly kisses on your neck and both of you relished in this silence as you both looked upon the most precious jewel you made. A little tiny human that shared both of you, she had no idea about the world she was born in. But that was okay. Because her mother and father would protect her until she didn’t need it anymore.

~

The church filled with people up and down the Red Keep as the baptism waited to take place. Behind a curtain, you stood draped in a most magnificent white gown and white headdress with your wonderful husband at your side, dressed in white as well. It had been four weeks since the birth of your daughter and four weeks in confinement as your body mended after the trauma of the birth, you still ached down below but you had to make an appearance at your daughters baptism. This would be the first time anyone other than your husband and child had seen you, so you wanted to make an impression with this massive gown.

“Congratulations.” King Viserys croaked from behind, he came limping in on his wooden walking stick with his Queen by his side. He had been ill straight after the birth and was kept hidden away until he got better. “I have seen my beautiful granddaughter and isn’t she just marvellous? I’ve always favoured girls.” He smiled before looping around you to get in the official formation. It would go the High Septon in front, then King and Queen with the baby and then you and Aemond behind. To be blessed properly, the baby had to be in the arms of either monarch. Before the doors opened, Aemond took your hand.

“How are you feeling?” He questioned, you looked up at your handsome husband.

“A bit sore, but I’m okay. You?” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed them.

“I’m always fine, my darling. Always fine if you are.” He kissed again, before pinching your cheeks. “You look beautiful.” You blushed like a teenage girl, your heart beating as you breathed in. He reached down and kissed your cheek.

“I’m actually nervous for this. No one has seen me in forever.” You said, wringing your hands.

“Cut yourself a break. You just gave birth and you look fucking beautiful.” A thought passed his mind, it showed in his eyes and he leaned down to whisper. “You’re so beautiful, I would fuck you right here, right now. Harder than I’ve ever done before.” He smirked, whisper kissing your neck. “If you weren’t still in pain, of course. So once you’re better, wait for what I’ll do to you.” You inhaled as he straightened up, as if he hadn’t just said all that in a room full of people.

A few moments beat by and a cute gurgle caused both of you to turn around and see your bundle of joy in the arms of her nanny, Aemond smiled instantly and took her from the nanny. You watched as your husband cradled your daughter, bouncing her gently in his arms as he stalked towards you, his eyes stuck on his stunning daughter.

“I’ll never get over her beauty.” He said to you, you met him in the middle and stroked the top of her head with your fingers. Her features were becoming more shaped like yours, her little hands still grasped at her lace outfit and white silk blanket that was the same cut as yours. You leaned down and kissed her button nose. Aemond never looked away from her and you wished you could freeze this moment of Aemond and your baby; him looking at her with great love and admiration and her looking up at him with saucer eyes full of wonder and curiosity.

“You’re so good with her.” You whispered, nestling your index finger in her tiny fist. She squeezed hard on it and you smiled like she had recognised you were her mother.

“Thank you.” Aemond looked up suddenly, tears welling in his eye.

“What for?” You cocked your head to the side.

“For giving me our daughter, Hope and for showing me that love wins every time. Thank you for being the most perfect jewel of a woman in the entire world. Thank you for giving me a beautiful family.” Both of you were crying, silently as the tears stream down your cheeks and you rested your head on his chest, looking at your daughter with pride blooming in your chest. Stroking her tiny hands and watching as she dozes deep into a sleep. You and your perfect family. Safe. Loved. Prideful. Grateful. And most importantly, happy.

[inkspiredwriting]

A Hair-Raising Experience

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was many things: a former assassin, a time-traveler, a seasoned survivor of apocalypses. But a hairdresser? That was a stretch.

Yet here he was, scissors in hand, staring at his wife Y/n with a look that blended confidence with mild panic. Y/n, sitting on a chair in their bathroom, looked up at him with a mixture of trust and fear.

“All the salons are closed,” she said, twisting a lock of her hair nervously. “I just need a trim, Five. How hard can it be?”

Five swallowed, steeling himself. “Piece of cake. I’ve tackled tougher jobs than this.”

He combed through her hair, trying to channel every memory he had of watching people get haircuts. Y/n closed her eyes, and Five took a deep breath, bringing the scissors to the first section of hair.

Snip.

“See? Not bad,” he said, more to convince himself than Y/n.

Y/n, eyes still closed, smiled. “I trust you. Just… not too short, okay?”

Five nodded, focusing intently. The problem was, with each snip, he noticed something that needed evening out. A little here, a little there, and soon he was in over his head.

“What do you think?” Five asked, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Y/n opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. Her expression shifted from cautious optimism to sheer horror. “Five! What did you do?”

Five winced. “I... may have overestimated my abilities.”

Y/n’s once even, shoulder-length hair was now a choppy, lopsided mess. One side was significantly shorter than the other, and there were random, uneven chunks missing.

“Oh my god, I look like a demented hedgehog,” she said, her voice a mixture of laughter and panic.

Five put the scissors down, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I see the problem. I can fix it.”

Y/n eyed him skeptically. “You’re not touching my hair again.”

A frantic call to a 24-hour hair salon later, they were driving through the city, Y/n wearing a baseball cap to hide the disaster. Five sat next to her, muttering apologies and trying to stifle his nervous laughter.

At the salon, the hairdresser took one look at Y/n and raised an eyebrow. “Tough week?”

Y/n pointed at Five. “My husband decided to play stylist.”

The hairdresser gave Five a knowing smile. “Ah, the classic ‘husband haircut.’ Seen a few of those.”

As Y/n sat in the chair, Five hovered nearby, wincing at the critical assessment of his work. The hairdresser, a woman with bright purple hair and an array of tattoos, shook her head in amusement.

“Well, let’s see what we can do here,” she said, running her fingers through Y/n’s hair. “Your husband’s given you a very… unique look.”

Y/n shot Five a mock glare. “Unique is one way to put it.”

The hairdresser snipped away, skillfully transforming the chaos into a stylish, albeit shorter, haircut. Y/n watched in the mirror, relief flooding her features as the damage was undone.

“See? It’s fixable,” the hairdresser said with a grin, stepping back to show the finished product.

Y/n smiled, feeling the now even, sleek bob. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

Five sighed in relief. “Thank you for saving me from sleeping on the couch.”

On the drive home, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the whole ordeal. “You know, you were so confident.”

Five chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry, Y/n. I really thought I could handle it.”

Y/n reached over, squeezing his hand. “You did your best. It’s kind of sweet, actually. Just… no more haircuts, okay?”

Five grinned, a mixture of sheepishness and affection in his eyes. “Deal. From now on, we leave haircuts to the professionals.”

Back home, with Y/n’s hair restored to its former glory, the incident became a new inside joke. They shared a bottle of wine, toasting to their survival of yet another Hargreeves misadventure.

And though Five may have failed as a hairdresser, he succeeded in proving, once again, that even in the most comical disasters, their love and laughter would always see them through.

[rey-jake-therapist]

There's a lot of discourse around shipping lately, treating the concept of shipping a female character (in this case, Galadriel) with a male character as "sexist". Those who say this kind of thing will argue that shipping is equal to treating the female character as "a side character" for a male character, who would be considered by the shipper as the most important character of the two. For the record, this post is inspired particularly by a Reddit post, but I've read these takes many times.

Excerpt of said Reddit post :

People in this fandom center Galadriels entire character around the men she interacts with. Every time she speaks to a man, there is a group of people who start shipping her with that man. It's not even funny anymore how some people here can't talk about her character without bringing up some guy who she interacted with. And this is especially frustrating because a lot of these discussions push her into the wife role. She is "married to Sauron" she is "married to Adar" the ring she wears is totally an "engagement ring". Even though there are two men who also received rings and I don't see anyone calling their rings engagement rings. And then there are some discussions that are downright disgusting, especially the "the stab she received from Sauron is a metaphor for penetration," and I don't mind discussing that. What I have an issue with is the romanticizing of that moment. Because Sauron also stabbed Celebrimbor, but people don't have an issue calling out how fucked up that scene was. It's almost like people are treating her like an accessory to men, when the show doesn't even do that. One of the strongest relationships in season one in my opinion was her relationship to Miriel. But I barely see people talk about that.

Notice how this person says with their whole chest that they're all for the kinky stuff, but not for the romantic stuff; this screams like a person who reads Saurondriel smut in secret, but clutches their pearls as soon as there are feelings involved because "uh, he's evil !".

To see the whole thread, click here. Notice that there are some very intelligent reactions to this claim, proving once again that Reddit is not completely lost. At least, this sub in particular isn't.

I won't start dwelling on the fact that this trend which consists in claiming that romance somehow diminishes a female character is getting very old, it won't be the subject of this post. Others have already breached this subject in a much more articulate way than I could ever do.

When people say they don't like that people ship Galadriel, it almost always means, "we don't like her being shipped with Sauron, yikes". I mean, let's be real : the most popular ship, is, by far, Haladriel. We're the ones being "sexist" here . Tbf with this person, they mentioned other ships as well so I will give them the benefice of doubts. It's also clear that they can't take a joke, because I never saw any shipper, being Haladriel or else, who was serious when they called Galadriel "X's wife", but whatever.

But even if we were serious, what's sexist about that, exactly ? If she's "Sauron's wife", for example, doesn't that make Sauron "Galadriel's husband" as well ? Why is shipping always called out for making the female character "an accessory to the male character", and never as making the male character an accessory to the female character ?Why is it considered reducing towards Galadriel, but not towards Sauron/Adar/Elrond ? Do the male characters gain somehow more than female characters at being shipped ?

The same question can be asked about the sexualization of the characters : it's always considered "outrageous" and "sexist" to sexualize female characters, even when it's done by women (which is almost always the case, in the context of shipping), but generally okay to sexualize male characters, why ? Because male characters supposedly have "the power" in the dynamics, based on their gender ?

I mean, I just find these ideas very reductive.

Now on the subject of Galadriel always being "connected to male characters". Well, first, sorry, but Galadriel doesn't get to spend much time around other female characters, in the show. And even in the books written by Tolkien, errrrr...?? This person mentions Galadriel's relationship with Miriel, that no one talks about. Well, I would love for Galadriel and Miriel to have interacted more, but the fact is that most of her interactions were with Halbrand/Sauron, in season 1. She indeed had an interesting connection with Miriel, but the show dedicated so little time on it that it leaves not much to discuss, really.

And in season 2, it's even more simple: she doesn't interact with any other female character. There's a female Elf in the company who leaves Lindon for Eregion, but the writers didn't even give her a line until episode 7, and when they did they killed her off 10 sec after she opens her mouth for the first time. If she had a good relationship with Galadriel, we have no other choice but imagining it. So, yes, we discuss Galadriel's relationship with men, because this show is very male-centric. And Tolkien's world itself is very male-centric, as a matter of fact. That the fans, and the shippers in particular, are blamed for that is really something.

I would LOVE for other female characters, albeit non canon characters, to be introduced in the show and to interact with Galadriel. I would LOVE Galadriel to have a female best friend, or even a female rivale, an enemy, a colleague, whatever ! And if I hope that Galadriel will return to Numenor, and I think she will because it was hinted more than once (her vision in the Palantir identical to Miriel's, and Miriel's promise to Galadriel that Numenor will return, which could imply Galadriel's involvement), it's also because I want Miriel and Galadriel to resume their relationship. They'd have much to talk about, it'd be great !

Now I'd like to discuss Haladriel in particular, or more generally, Galadriel's relationship with Sauron. Another thing that bothers me with this discourse is that according to this person and many others, too much importance is given to this relationship, wether it's considered romantic or not. "Too much importance" ? Hello ? It's literally this relationship that led to all the events that followed ! In show!canon, I mean, not in the Tolkien lore. From now on, everything I'll write will be related to the show!canon, unless I specify otherwise.

I find very strange, to say the least, to feel criticized because I talk about Galadriel and Sauron, while the entirety of season was built around their relationship : even before they meet, she's obsessede with him. They meet on the sea, she saves him, they are brought to Numenor, they're thrown in jail together, Galadriel insists he's a lost king, he says nay, then he changes his mind, they fight together in the Southlands, she stops him from killing Adar, he does the same with her, they share a moment in the forest, she brings him to Eregion to heal him, then boom, she learns he's Sauron, they fight, and he leaves. And yes, Galadriel gets to interact with other characters, including Miriel, but c'mon now : the first season of this show has made Galadriel and Sauron's relationship the center of it all. Not just Galadriel, no ! Almost everything she does and says is related to Sauron. Is it our fault ? Is it the shippers fault, if the story was written this way ?

And don't get me started on all the sexual and romantic innuendos, that the tenants of this discourse are always prone to deny. "There was nothing romantic in their interactions !", "They were just friends !", "they were just political partners !". Sure, Jan. These innuendos were definitely present, the sexual tension was always present (and for God's sake, no, it wasn't the actors who wanted to jump each other, it was A-C-T-I-N-G). The writers and the directors wanted the audience to think there was, at the very least, a mutual attraction.

In season 2, Galadriel and Sauron barely interacted but they were constantly thinking of each other, especially Galadriel. Again, is it the fans' fault if they saw that and commented on a relationship that was broken, and yet still very present within the narrative ? Is it the shippers' fault if the writers decided to picture Galadriel as an ex lover in pain because her lover deceived her (or a friend deceibed by a fake friend, if that's how you interpret it !) ? Was it the shippers' decision to doll up an Elf woman as a discount Galadriel, so Sauron wouldn't take a break in his obsession for Galadriel ? No, again, it was the writing.

And actually, it makes sense that the writing spent so much time on this relationship in season 2, and will probably continue in season 3, 4 and 5 even if some of you firmly believe that Galadriel "shut the door" for good on him and will never see him or speak to him again. Because we know, this time from the Tolkien lore, that Sauron never stopped trying to grope to see her and her thought :

“I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed.”

It was literally the showrunners idea that Galadriel and Sauron must have had a sort of a relationship, based on this quote. Putting Galadriel and Sauron in a situationship was never a second thought !

It was meant to be important in the show, and it will remain important, because if it was what started this particular story told by the show, and it will probably be what will finish it as well.

To conclude : I understand why people don't all like Saurondriel... I understand why these same people don't understand why they are shipped, it's perfectly valid. But blaming the fans, and the shippers in particular, for talking so much about Galadriel's connection with Sauron, is speaking in bad faith, or being media illeterate because the writers WANT us to talk about it.

[reiteka]

Denial

I don't really do this but since I was forced to get tumblr I figured I may as well put this up here. Just a Human Alastor x Reader type thing. Murder involved, marriage of convenience, female reader, passive? reader (it's mainly Alastor's thoughts so reader doesn't do much in the fic). --- means insert whatever name you want. I haven't proofread this in a long time so expect mistakes. This is 1 of 2 Alastor X Reader fics I've done so let me know if anyone wants the other one (Also never posted on tumblr before and don't know how it works).

...

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

Being best friends since they were young girls, Alastor and ___ mothers had treated one another like sisters, spending all their time together and even giving birth within the same year to their respective children. How ecstatic they were when one had a boy and the other a girl, how darling it would be if the two would conform to the classic romantic trope of developing from childhood friends to star-crossed sweethearts. Fortunately, for their mothers, they did marry but not due to their fondness of each other. Alastor and ___ didn’t love each other, but they didn’t hate each other either. They married to not only make their mothers happy but also out of convenience, to cease the unwanted advances of the opposite sex and to silence the needless prattling of others with their incessant questions or assertions of ‘when are you getting married?’ or ‘still single at your age?’ or the most repulsive of all ‘your biological clock is ticking dear’.

Though they were married, and to the outside world a happy couple, they lived as strangers. They shared one roof but slept in separate beds, in separate rooms, at separate ends of the house. They had dinner together, engaged in conversation about how her day was or how his radio show was faring or about the recent killings and disappearances taking place. And although they generally enjoyed the other’s company, there was an undeniable line that would never be crossed, an unspoken agreement that they would only ever be acquaintances and never entertain the thought of giving into the charade they had concocted to fool their family and friends. Alastor respected such an agreement and in no way did he want it to change.

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

So, when he met the young lad from the bookshop, he didn’t feel anything towards the boy. He didn’t flinch when the blonde’s demeanor brightened like a mutt whose owner had returned home to play with him. He didn’t stiffen at the genuine smile that slipped easily onto his wife’s face when greeting the boy manning the counter, a smile he had spent hours rambling out perfected jokes in an attempt to receive a mere glimpse of, to spy the miniscule curling of her lips, given to him not out of politeness but out of genuine joy.

‘A pleasure to be meeting you my good man! The name is Alastor, yes the one from the radio show. Many thanks for always assisting my lovely wife here in her literary endeavours.’ When he wrapped an arm around her waist and introduced himself, it was because of his duty to fulfill his responsibilities as her husband, not because he enjoyed the look of shock and heartbreak creeping onto the boy’s visage. He took no satisfaction in the way the boy withered under his stare as if shrinking in on himself, both from Alastor’s intimidating aura and his place at the woman’s side.

He didn’t follow his wife around the shop to dissuade the boy from talking to her, he was just interested in finding out what books his wife was currently reading. And yes, his smile did seem rather strained and his eyes quite murderous when the boy happened to glance over in their direction, but it was not an intended hostility, the boy was simply paranoid and misconstrued the polite and friendly stare Alastor was directing at him. He didn’t try and pry information out of his wife later at dinner because he felt threatened in any way, because he didn’t like the way she giggled when the boy made a feeble attempt at an ill-advised pun. He just wanted to know who he was and how often she talked to him and what she thoug̸h̴t̷ ̶o̷f̴ ̸h̸i̵m̴ a̴n̴d̸ ̵i̸f̷ ̸s̶h̵e̷ ̵t̵h̷o̵u̸g̸h̶t̵ ̵h̵e̸ ̴w̸a̸s̸ ̸c̸u̸t̷e̴ ̴̞̍͌͝͝ö̸̩́ŗ̵̟̾͐́̂ ̷͉͙͑h̵̛̘̹̬͑͊̔̎̂a̴͉̥̓n̴̝̯̬̿̋͑d̸̲̱̬͎͉̀̋̈̎̆ş̷̺͙̺͗̀̈̃̄ͅo̶̖̮͐̽̐̑̆̍m̴͖͕̼͈͋̓͗̒ḙ̴͂ ̸̣̙̂o̵̳͗͛̆͗̋ṛ̸͉̯͑͗͐ ̵̭̳̭͕͇͑̇f̸̻̺͙̰̐ű̵̧̫͎̜̥̹̈́ṋ̶̮̀n̶̞̞̐̋̈͐͠ỉ̶͔̦̝͎̱̬̋̽̄͐͠ȩ̷̘̫̩͖͂̇r̷͎̤̒͐ ̴̫̯̺̮̄̈́͘̚o̷͖͙͓͗̅͐̂̕̚ṙ̴̻͓̼.̸̡̞̇.̶̦̇̇̃́͑

He was just curious, and his distaste for the boy had nothing to do with the blush that coated his wife’s face when the boy gave her a forlorn goodbye and wished her the most pleasant evening in the world. As if her evening wasn’t already perfect with Alastor by her side!

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

He was just tired of the bakery he frequented when his show ended or when he took one of his infamously rare lunch breaks. It just so happened that the new café that had taken his fancy was coincidently located across from the same bookshop where his wife would make a near-daily trip to with the goal of perusing their rather limited stock. His face never darkened, his smile never turned sinister because of jealousy or some other Neanderthalic emotion when he witnessed their interactions, he simply found it disgraceful how shamelessly the boy acted towards a married woman. He didn’t absolutely loathe the fact that his wife was giving attention to someone other than himself, someone completely undeserving of such an affectionate gaze and her indulgence of idle, mindless chatter. Of course, it wasn't her fault, she had always been oblivious to the advances of others who sought to captivate her with tainted promises of friendship while hiding their heinous desires for more intimate relations. It was his job really, as her husband to remove such scum from her periphery, to exterminate the uncultured and salacious boy that couldn’t understand nor respect the simple fact that should have been glaringly obvious by now: ___ belonged to Alastor.

Alastor didn’t love his wife.

He was simply looking for another meal that catered to his...unique palate. It was pure coincidence that he happened past the bookshop which was known for staying open late into the night. It was a coincidence that the boy happened to be closing up, that Alastor happened to be late in finishing up his show that night and that it just happened that not a soul occupied the usually bustling street. It wasn’t that Alastor wanted to prolong the boy’s suffering. Sure, he may have offered the boy several choices ranging from never talking to his wife again to leaving Louisiana altogether, despite knowing that no matter what option the boy chose Alastor was going to kill him regardless. And he may have let the boy run from him for five minutes before he got bored and knocked him to the ground, even though he could have caught up with him in a manner of mere seconds. And he may have allowed the boy a few curtesy blows before easily and pitifully overpowering him, taking no small amount of pleasure in how the hope that still lingered in the lad’s eyes seemed to diminish with the knowledge that the tall, lanky radio host was deceitfully stronger than he appeared. Yes, he did make the boy’s death as slow as possible, letting him bleed out rather than killing him straight away, mocking him the entire time, ingraining the fact that the boy had brought this fate upon himself for daring to covert what was Alastor’s. And he did inevitably choose to dispose of the body rather than contaminate himself with such an unappetizing individual, making it so that the only ones to see the boy again would be the maggots that made him their home. But it had nothing to do with ___.

With a lighter step, a jauntily whistled tune, and the sequel to his wife’s favourite novel tucked under his arm, Alastor made his way home, thoughts of how he could convince his wife to let him purchase her books so that she needn’t bother herself with leaving the house at the forefront of his mind.

Alastor didn’t love his wife...

But that didn’t mean someone else was allowed to love her either.

[redrose10]

Could you do arranged marriage with yoongi, prompt 68, and a happy ending🥺

I hope this is okay!

Fire & Ice

Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of cheating, slightly suggestive, mentions of being drunk

#68 “Seems like you have to sleep here tonight”

When you first entered into an arranged marriage with Min Yoongi you did your best to try and make it work. Sure it wasn’t ideal and you would’ve rather fallen in love on your own terms but it was done and over with and you were determined to try your best and make things work.

The first time he broke you down though was on your wedding night. His parents had rented a large suit at the most luxurious hotel in the city so that the two of you wouldn’t have to travel far after the reception. You were nervous but hopeful and maybe even a little excited. You changed out of your big ball gown of a dress and were waiting on the bed for Yoongi. When the door finally swung open you perked up a little only to be shot down when he grabbed his clothes and told you he had booked his own room to sleep in and then left without sparing you a glance. You spent your wedding night cold and alone in a king size bed while your new husband was doing who knows what. A crack formed in your heart that night.

The next time he chipped away at that crack was a few months later. It was his birthday and you had spent the entire day cooking all of his favorite foods. It was a lot of work but you really wanted to impress him. He told you he’d be home at his normal time so the table was set and you had changed into a nice dress and had lit some candles. You waited and waited and thirty minutes late turned into two hours late turned into six hours late. Finally around 2am he came walking through the door completely ignoring you and all of the food that was now cold and ruined. After questioning him he let you know that his friends threw him a surprise party that you apparently had never been made aware of and he forgot to tell you he was going to be home late. He tried to apologize but you fought back tears as you shoved his present into his chest and stormed off to your bedroom. The crack in your heart grew quite a bit that night.

There were other things that chipped away at it here and there. Hurtful words and spiteful glares. The few times you would go out of your comfort zone and wear something to try and get his attention but he’d never do more than look in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere. There was the way he always introduced you simply by your name, never Mrs. Min or even My Wife. It made you feel like he didn’t want people to know.

There were moments of positivity though. The two of you talked a little bit. You both had a love for music which started many conversations. He sent you roses on your birthday. And you swore he showed the tiniest bit of jealousy when you ran into your physical trainer, Jungkook. You couldn’t quite make it out but you know you heard him mumble something about how he could have muscles like that if he really wanted to before telling you the car was ready even though it wasn’t and you two had to stand outside in the rain for an extra ten minutes. You got the feeling he just wanted to get you away from Jungkook.

One evening though, he finally shattered your heart beyond repair. Another night where he came home way later than he should have. You heard a loud crash in the living room followed by lots of giggles. You rush out there and found him stumbling around drunk out of his mind after having knocked over a vase. His two friends, Namjoon and Jimin, were off to the side not completely sober themselves but seemingly more coherent than your husband was.

Yoongi coming home drunk wasn’t anything knew or shocking. You were used to it by now. So you didn’t think twice when you went to help him up and get him in bed only to be stopped when you saw the large purple and red bruise on this neck. You threw his arm down like it had electrocuted you.

It had always been in the back of your mind that he was possibly cheating. You two had been together for many many months at this point never having done anything like that and it was starting to affect even you. You always pushed those thoughts away though but here was the evidence right in front of you.

Yoongi was too drunk to defend himself. Jimin and Namjoon begged you to listen to them as they could explain what happened but you didn’t care to hear it.

You stormed off back to your room leaving Yoongi passed out on the living room floor and his friends to sneak out knowing there was going to be a fight. That was the moment you fully closed yourself off from him and decided that you two were nothing more than business partners for photo-ops and charity events.

You spent the next year barely speaking or even seeing each other. The first couple weeks

Yoongi tried to explain what happened but you were having no part of it so eventually he gave up. You had bought your own apartment on the other side of the city and only interacted with him at events and family get togethers.

And then one day yours and his parents dropped a huge bombshell that you were not expecting. They wanted to know why the two of you had not produced an heir yet. You couldn’t help but laugh because the two of you were barely even on speaking term so how were you supposed to start a family. That opened up a whole bunch of questions from your families leading to them suggesting the two of you needed to spend time together to try and work on your relationship. It was non-negotiable and before you knew it plans were made and plane tickets were booked against your will.

And that’s how you found yourself alone with Yoongi in a snow covered cabin up in the mountains several hours away from your home.

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”, you spat after you found out it was a one bedroom home.

“Okay sleep outside in the snow then. I don’t really care Y/N.”, he mumbled walking out of the bedroom.

You rolled your eyes but had already accepted that you would be spending a sleepless few nights on the couch because you refused to give in.

After the long trip all you wanted was a hot shower and to get into your comfy pjs so that’s what you did. By the time you were finished the cabin was filled with a heavenly aroma and you found Yoongi in the kitchen. There were two plates of food sitting on the counter. He had made your favorite. When he noticed you he gently slid one over in your direction and for the first time since the beginning of your marriage you felt something other than disdain for him. But you weren’t going to let him know that.

“Are you trying to poison me?”, you questioned.

“Eat it or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me.”

You felt a little bit of guilt watching him grab his plate and sulk over to the table. Quietly you took the second plate and joined him. You both sat in silence with him scrolling on his phone and you just staring at the snow falling outside the window. It seemed like a blizzard was forming as the snow fall had picked up quite a lot since you arrived.

“It’s snowing quite a bit. I hope we don’t loose power.”, you whispered while somewhat trying to gage his reaction to you speaking to him.

He nodded, “yeah I hope not.”

And as if the universe was playing a joke on you the lights flickered once…twice…and then the entire cabin went dark.

“You have to be kidding me.”, Yoongi grumbled before getting up to look for the fuse box.

While he was gone you got a notification from the rental company letting you know there was a power outage in the area due to the snow storm and the current time estimate for it to be fixed was at least 48 hours.

When Yoongi returned you showed him the text which only soured his mood more. He walked into the bedroom and returned a few minutes later bundled up in several layers.

“Where are you going?”, you asked concerned.

“Well without electricity we won’t have any heat. I saw an ax on porch. I’m gonna go chop some wood so that we can build a fire to keep warm.”

“Okay let me get dressed and I’ll come help you.”, you said already walking towards the bedroom. He stopped you furiously shaking his head, “No absolutely not.”

You felt a little hurt that he was so adamant against you going with him but you also knew you couldn’t really blame him either so you stopped your movements as he asked.

He must’ve noticed your reaction because he cleared his throat, “It’s cold and dangerous out there. Just stay in here and enjoy the warmth before it’s gone. I shouldn’t be long.”

You nodded and watched as he closed the door behind him.

You had gotten all the dishes cleaned up and were waiting around for Yoongi. He had been gone quite a while and you were starting to get worried. So you decided to get dressed and were about to head out when he came walking him struggling to get the door to close behind him thanks to the wind. His cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold as he dropped several logs of wood into the fireplace. Within a few minutes he had a fire going that slowly filled the room with much needed warmth.

The two of you sat on the couch in silence just watching the flames move and listing to the crackling of the fire.

After some time Yoongi left and returned with several pillows and blankets. He started laying them out in front of the fire place.

“Seems like you’ll have to sleep here.”, he said looking at you, “We’ll both have to sleep here.”

Your first instinct was to argue against it but then you felt a chill down your spine and you knew you would never make it through the night in the bedroom. So you nodded and joined him underneath your own blanket while he had his and you still made sure there was a considerable distance between the two of you.

The soft glow and the sounds provided by the fire were comforting and you could feel yourself slipping off to sleep fairly quickly until you heard Yoongi shift beside you for probably the hundredth time.

“Yoongi are you okay?”, you asked half concerned half annoyed.

“Yeah sorry. It’s just still so cold it’s hard to get comfy.”

You thought for a moment before taking a deep breath, “D-Do you want to get under the same blanket? We can use our combined body heat to keep warm.”

He became so quiet and still you almost felt embarrassed for even asking until he nodded and lifted up his blanket to give you space to get underneath it.

There was an immediate increase in warmth but you thought it was probably thanks to your body’s rising temperature from being so close to Yoongi.

The room returned to a noticeable silence until it was Yoongi who cleared his throat, “Y/N can I tell you something?”

“Mmhm.”, you nodded.

He took a deep breath, “I’ve never cheated on you.”

You were surprised he was bringing this up so nonchalantly and out of nowhere.

He continued, “That night…That night when I came home drunk and I had that bruise it wasn’t what you think. I was out having some drinks and there was this guy. He came up to me and was talking all this shit about me and my family and stuff. I tried to ignore him. But then…then he called you a gold digging whore and he said he’d take you off my hands for $5 because that’s all you were worth. I got pissed that he was talking about you like that and punched him and then there was a fight and I got hit with something. Maybe a glass or something. I don’t even know what it was but that’s where the bruise came from.”, he stayed silent for another moment, “I know I wasn’t the best husband from the start but I would never and have never been unfaithful to you.”

His words replayed over and over in your mind.

“I just want to say I’m sorry for how I treated you. I was angry and hurt that I wasn’t given a choice in this whole situation but you were the last person I should’ve taken it out on.”, he sighed before continuing, “I just wanted to put that out there. It’s bothered me for a long time and I figured since there’s nothing else to do right now I could take the time to finally say it.”

Your heart was racing as you fidgeted with your sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry too. I should have at least let you explain yourself before completely shutting you out.”, you whispered feeling a little bit guilty, “I just wanted you to give me…to give us a chance and I was hurt that you wouldn’t.”

The room fell into another silence other than the crackling of the fire but this time it was a little less tense.

“M-maybe we should start over. I promise I can be a good husband.”, Yoongi said after a while.

“You did build us a pretty nice fire so that’s pretty good husband stuff.”, you replied trying to lighten the mood a little. He chuckled, “Yeah that’s just the beginning of the things I can do for you.”

You smiled, “Okay let’s start from the beginning.“

He nodded before searching for your hand underneath the blanket. When he finally found it you intertwined your fingers with his.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”, he asked.

“I mean yes but I don’t think we need to start over that far back.”, you giggled as he squeezed your had.

“Yeah how far back should we go?”, he questioned.

You bit your lip debating your next move, “Well how about our wedding night?”

Yoongi chuckled before pulling you into a kiss, “Yeah I think that’s a good place to start.”

[rosykims]

ok i have avoided talking abt my datv thoughts but now ive finished and slept on it here it is. this is huge btw and really just a way to process my thoughts for my own peace of mind. and get out what i need to say. so yeah word salad below

2 disclaimers before i start. firstly i think im going to be SUPER blunt and clear about my thoughts on this post but then i will mostly be putting the matter to bed in my heart bc i am not someone who delights in being a hater nor do i take comfort in it. i will take from this the things i enjoyed and keep my distance from the rest. second disclaimer: ultimately i think i will still enjoy being a part of the fandom and seeing other people enjoy the game, because it will endear it to me and maybe take away the pain im feeling right now, so this isnt a long rant to make you feel bad about enjoying the game if you do like it! in fact quite the opposite. it comforts me that there are people who find value in the game and i hope in watching you play it i may be able to eventually be able to say the same

that being said . obviously i didnt like the game

which is an extremely difficult thing for me to say. i went into this game thinking "i will at the VERY least enjoy the game. not love it but at least like it. but im sure ill love it". it really is quite distressing for me that it didnt even really reach that bar for the most part. i TRIED to like it. i begged this game to give me ANY handhold at all that i could cling to, to forgive and like this game. i think the things i liked err more on the technical side. the graphics i loved, the character DESIGN was *fantastic*. the art. the pacing. the vague vision of what they were obviously nebulously aiming for. and honestly, i mostly enjoyed the main plot although i wish it had been more disciplined and constrained with the lore it was trying to expand on. act 3 was fantastic and naturally i am happy and fulfilled for the most part by the conclusion of solas's story, who i still believe was and is the best written "villain" of dragon age. sorry logang and meredith nation but i do still stand by this.

but thats really about it. as a disclaimer i am not an origins puritan or a da2 diehard or anything like that. i have loved (almost equally) EVERY single iteration of dragon age which has been released. i am one of the few people who sees equal value in inquisition and origins. i love them both so deeply. i couldnt pick between them.

for me what i love the MOST about dragon age - and which every single previous game has always nailed despite other flaws - is the characters. right under that is the world's capacity for introspection. and unfortunately nothing in this game provided that for me

regarding the characters: i do not care about a single one of them unfortunately. or at least i do not CARE about them the way that i have CARED about the other previous games companions. companions i would write banter about !!! just for fun when i was bored!!!! i would say my only exception is harding, but even then i care about her only because i care about her due to inquisition. overall i just found them all so ..... shallow. and devoid of any of the conflict or nuance or ethical quandries that make biowares stories so compelling - and sure, usually controversial! i would give ANYTHING for this game to have been controversial. for a unforgivable RO, or a problematic fave, or a cancelled wife. did bioware forget that their most beloved or at least enjoyed characters are people like anders, merrill, mordin solus, blackwall, sten, loghain, SOLAS??? i dont understand HOW they could have forgotten that, because solas is literally right there in game and handled (in my opinion as a fan) well. love him or hate him or dont care about him, he is such a hallmark of great bioware writing (in dai if nothing else) - characters who are not EASY to like. characters who are not SAFE to write and who WILL generate criticism from all sides because they are written boldly and unapologetically, strengthened by a foundation of consistent ideals, clear objectives and beautiful faults. characters that do not NEED you to like them, but instead invite you to engage with them critically. solas, even to someone who hates him, is nuanced and morally complex enough to muse and fight over for 10 whole years. hes IN this game, just as ethically murky as ever, but the morally grey hallmark of biowares writing really does kind of live and die with him alone. the rest of the companions feel like they barely made it out of their concept phase. what are lucanis's flaws??? genuinely asking. other than being a murderer who exists in an organization which buys and trains literal child slaves of course, but i'll get to that in a sec (because bioware sure as fuck didnt). um, i guess you could say hes broody?? and emmrich too. what actual flaws does he have?? he has a fear of death, as we're TOLD, but it does not really reflect in the overall convesations we have with him over the course of the game. mostly hes just.... a little bumbling i guess. bellara's flaw is being a scatterbrain. harding's is that shes..... angry??? but shes not???? fucking come on. i really felt the lack of actually being able to TALK to these people at the end of act 2, when i realized i still felt like i havent really MET any of them. and yet here rook is talking about found family and being a team. ok

and then there are the romances. which from my perspective - having romanced taash - and my friends who have romanced lucanis, neve and davrin..... WHAT romances. davrin's full romance is 20 minutes in a 30 PLUS HOUR GAME. solas had the least amount of content out of any companion in inquisition and was a last minute unintentional RO and still had like easily 50 minutes of content. so why did these romances feel like nothing. actually nothing. i was so excited for taash, but their romance straight up felt like neither rook nor taash even wanted to be there. i forgot they were technically together at certain points. zero chemistry. zero intimacy. all TELLING zero SHOWING. if you had told me that i would be saying these sorts of things about a writer like trick weekes a month ago i would call you fucking crazy to your face. i cannot reconcile that taash was written by the same person who wrote solas. i cannot reconcile that mary kirby - who wrote the fucking chant of light - wrote lucanis. its so dire. its devastating actually.

lastly i want to talk about my other point - bioware's famed emphasis on introspection and ethically quandries. again, i'm genuinely experiencing a sense of profound whiplash because when it comes solas's character you can still see it. its still there. they actually doubled down on making him worse than he was in trespasser which i LOVED and thought was so incredibly promising. they could have caved to solavellan fans and uwu-ified him but they didnt. thats great.

but where was that energy for literally anything else. everything has been defanged - even minrathous, the capital of the tevinter slave trade, does not even ADDRESS the elephant in the room of slavery. and i know because i played a shadow dragon. so tell me why i as a shadow dragon am happily allied with the crows, who solely exist to assassinate politicians and BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES AS CHILDREN AND TRAIN/TORTURE THEM TO MURDER. HELLO??????????? there is no commentary made about the mages/templars. there is no discussion of the treatment of the elves in the north or Anywhere. there is no discussion of why exactly blood magic is or isnt acceptable - they simply tell us its bad. all the theories of the last 10 years were answered with handwaved comments or bare bones codex entries that honestly stripped so much nuance away from so many things (the blight, my BELOVED) that i dont know how im going to go about fixing it or making it right in my head. the introspective nature of dragon age always went hand in hand with player choice, but there really WAS no choice in this game as so there IS no real capacity for other interpretations or schools of thought. it is so..........................bleak.

i think the thing that finally made it click in my head that this game had fundamentally let me down was the gloom howler quest. and i know im not alone on this. for those of you who dont know - the gloom howler, "isseya" was the protagonist of the dragon age novel "the last flight". i would HIGHLY recommend you read it, especially if you're an origins fan. super bleak, super political, not flashy at all in terms of magic. it was set 500 years pre origins, during the 3rd blight. isseya is very similar to characters like loghain and solas in a way - a richly complex, beautifully intricate, terribly thought provoking character who did HORRIFIC things for the most NOBLE reason you could imagine, under the most traumatic of circumstances. im tearing up just thinking about her story, and how the title "the LAST flight" foreshadowed that her story had a definitive, bittersweet, finite and peaceful ending.

and then this game did THAT to her. turned her into a grotesque caricature of what she was. stripping her of her nuance and her capacity for atonement or forgiveness. and once again, i do not fucking get it. she was obviously brought back because she is a parallel to the solas dilemma. so WHY is she not afforded the same opportunity for empathy that he is. why is bellara's brother not either. its insane. its literally insane. i cannot begin to imagine the oversight or laziness or WHATEVER IT WAS that occured to have this game turn out this way.

there are innumerable other problems with the game that im not going to get into because what ive said above is the main crux of my problem. introspective and character. those are all i really wanted from this game, and like..... i thought we would get that. because the game centered around solas. and i know people dislike his fans for very fair reasons, but i hope those who know me know that i enjoy him not because hes hot (he is though) but because he is terrible. i love him because they made a character who was TERRIBLE, and then gave you the task of using your head and refelcting on your own morality and values and deciding and arguing and meditating over whether he is worth loving anyway. to me, solas is the person i point to when i want to describe why i love dragon age. its complicated, its nuanced, it is terrible and wonderful and everything in between depending on the angle you look at it from. and so having the writer of a character like THAT in charge of the whole game filled me with hope and dissuaded so many of my fears for this game. but i was wrong apparently.

so now im left with a feeling akin to survivors guilt. genuinely. because at the VERY least, despite me saying all of these negative things, i at least finished the game crying happy tears and being overjoyed that my favourite character was handled well and got an ending i enjoyed. and yet that happiness *i* got to feel and that glimmer of good writing was paid for at the expense of literally everything else. i feel almost personally responsible in a way, which sucks. im sorry to all the people who did not enjoy or care about solas, im sorry that you really did get nothing out of this game. i hope we can all be comforted by the trilogy we have and will always have, and i hope we can all take what good parts we enjoyed out of veilguard and make peace with the rest

leaving this youtube comment my friend sent me which is unfortunately a summary of how i feel about the game as a whole.

[smilesrobotlover]

Kidnapping of the Princess

I wanted to write a little thing from where Leon and Veran met and fought during the kidnapping of Tetra. It started out with it being in third person but I changed it to first person where it was Leon telling the colors about what happened. So that was a fun experiment haha. It’s def not perfect and it’s something that’d be easier to show through a comic but oh well. Hope you guys like it regardless :)

Warning for kidnapping, character death, and injury

~~~~~

The memory of the day has never left my mind, still remaining there like a scar to remind me of what happened, what I failed to do.

It started as a joyful day, with the workers preparing the castle with decorations, the bakers prepping the most tasteful and elaborate cakes, and the seamstresses creating the most elegant dresses. A lot of work, for the princesses’ first birthday.

I remember I thought it was too much for babies; they’d never remember the party, but the whole castle was excited for it. You—well, I suppose Link—was only learning to walk, which made keeping track of you difficult, but you loved the decorations, just as excited for the party as everyone else despite not understanding what was happening.

The party started early due to the twins’ strict sleep schedule, and the Knights of Hyrule and I were focused on keeping everyone safe. I kept my eye out despite the crowded room, but people were simply dancing, eating, and drinking to their heart's content. The princesses were on their little thrones, playing with their toys and crawling around while the First Knight, Sir Arthur, kept people from trying to touch or play with them. I remember while I was trying to do my job, you—Link, escaped the maids and somehow found me, your little legs toddling through the crowd. Goddesses you never failed to give me a heart attack. The party was truly… fun, with you there with me, with everyone cheering and singing with the music, with the princesses squealing at every gift opened for them. I hate parties, but I was enjoying myself. Sir Arthur teased me relentlessly for it, bless that man.

In the middle of the party, the king gave a toast to his daughters, which I think was a mistake for what happened that night.

“To my first daughter, Zelda, who came into the world first with a powerful cry,” he had started, raising his drink while holding her. “I know you will be the ruler Hyrule needs. I love you so much my sweet Zelda.”

Princess Zelda was always a daddy’s girl—she loved him very much. But the second princess was a momma’s girl, and she held her hands up to the queen to be held before the king could do his next toast.

“To my second daughter, who came into the world after her sister with a gentle sob. I know that despite not inheriting the crown, that you will make the world a better place, and that you will be a strong foundation and example for Hyrule. I love you—I am blessed by the Golden Three themselves.” The king had started weeping at that point, with a long moment of silence grew as he tried to collect himself in his speech. “I could lose my riches, my castle, and my power and still be the richest man alive.”

The crowd clapped, with the king hugging and kissing his wife and daughters. It was truly heartwarming to see, and the crowd dispersed to continue their merry ways. The party was supposed to last all through the night despite the princesses retiring early, but the king and queen suddenly grew weary and tired, and they retired with them. I supposed that should’ve been a sign, but we thought nothing of it. I knew since having a one-year-old of my own that it’s exhausting, so I foolishly believed everything was ok.

To my surprise, Sir Arthur allowed me to retire with you since you were tired as well, so I walked with the maids to our room, which allowed me to pass by the royal’s room when it happened. The guards in front greeted me, and I gave them a nod, hoping to get away before they tried to converse with me, but there was a loud crash in the room, followed by crying. Without thinking, I burst through the room, with the soldiers following closely behind, and I saw her.

A tall figure loomed over one of the princess’s cribs, a broken vase between them, Zelda crying, and her sister squirming in the stranger’s hole. The king and queen were passed out on the floor, and I realized that they had been drugged. It was all a trap, a plan and a ploy to get to the princesses!

I shouted for the guards, ordered the two with me to secure Zelda and the king and queen, and ran after the stranger, but she crashed through the window before I could reach her, the only part of her face showing being her sinister smile. She fell from the window to the ground uninjured, but I didn’t let that stop me. I grabbed rope I had in my pack and jumped out myself, using it to safely land in the courtyard. She was far ahead of me, floating as she ran away with the crying princess, but I continued running for her, ignoring the pain in my knees.

The woods were dark and far more twisted than I remembered, and I found myself nearly tripping to the ground as I followed the kidnapper. There was a moment where I lost them, the sound of the princess’s cries echoing out through the trees, and Sir Arthur suddenly appeared to my surprise.

“Leon! What happened?” He had asked, and I simply spun in circles, trying to listen to where the cries were coming from.

“The second princess was taken, I don’t know where they went!”

“Calm yourself, perhaps there are tracks for us to follow?”

I remember glancing at the ground, only to find no tracks, and the memory of the kidnapper floating away played through my mind.

“There are no tracks,” I explained, “the kidnapper is—is like a ghost.”

Sir Arthur nodded. “Then let us listen for the princess.”

Sir Arthur always knew how to be calm during an emergency, and I found my breathing slowing as he rested his hand on shoulder which grounded me. We both closed our eyes and remained silent, hearing the princess’s cries grow quieter and quieter. But we knew where they were coming from. Sir Arthur pointed into the trees and nodded at me, and I nodded back. We sprinted through the woods, the cries growing louder and louder until we finally caught up with the kidnapper, who was simply standing in a clearing while trying to cover the princess’s mouth.

“Quiet you, you little brat,” she hissed, but she spotted us, her strange mask that hid her eyes facing the both of us. “Well, looks like you caught up with me.”

I remember her voice was strangely beautiful and smooth, almost mesmerizing to listen to, but there was a hint of malice that stopped it from being truly beautiful.

“Let go of the princess,” Sir Arthur ordered, his voice steady and firm.

“Or you’ll what?” The kidnapper asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

“We’ll do what we must,” he simply replied, and he lunged towards her before I could even think. The kidnapper seemed shocked as well, barely dodging the attack.

“Careful, you might harm the little princess,” she laughed, twirling around as Sir Arthur attacked. I lunged as well, aiming for the woman’s legs to hopefully incapacitate her without harming the princess. It was strange with the way she moved. I genuinely couldn’t tell if she was somehow floating, or if she was just tall, but she towered over the two was. She was also quick despite her size, but she quickly grew flustered trying to dodge the knights while holding tight to the sobbing princess, and she let out a yelp when Sir Arthur cut the fabric on her back, leaving it completely bare. She stopped and panted for a moment, but soon simply smiled as she backed up against the tree, her white teeth shining in the moonlight, and eight, glowing red wings appeared behind her now that they were free from the clothes. I could never forget the feeling of dread I felt when I saw that. She was a great fairy.

I looked over at Arthur just as she launched magic at him, sending him flying into the trees where he crumpled to the ground.

“Sir Arthur!” I had called out, and my first instinct was to run to him, even when the great fairy laughed and flew away with the princess. The First Knight was… weak when I got to him, but there was a fire in his eyes as he gripped my forearm, a pleading expression on his face.

“Save… the princess…” he breathed out, and though I didn’t want to leave him, I nodded solemnly, standing up when he let me go. I had a duty to Hyrule, and I couldn’t fail.

I heard the laughter of the great fairy echoing through the trees as I followed her, fire flowing through my veins that pushed me to run faster. I had my sword drawn, and I caught up to the great fairy, spotting her beautiful wings amongst the dark forest. I hopped on a boulder before aiming my sword down at her, and she spotted me seconds before I could hit her. My sword sank into the ground, but I pulled it out as the great fairy sneered at me.

“I suppose I should get rid of you too,” she huffed, and she laid the princess on the ground before facing me fully, magic in the air making my hair stand on end.

The princess continued to cry, and I don’t know if it was my dedication to my duty, or my own fatherly instincts kicking in, but I knew that I would do whatever it took to save her.

I had fought many tough foes in my life, but none of them compared to fighting a great fairy. Her magic was terrifying, with explosions happening left and right, thorny vines bursting from the ground and threatening to bind me, and I even felt her try to enter my very soul, but I stopped her before she could control me.

“Come on little knight, you can’t defeat me to save the princess?” She taunted, nearly lighting me on fire. I was able to land a few hits on her, but her size and strength made my slices mere scratches, but I never stopped. I hoped that even if I couldn’t stop her myself, that I’d be able to hold her there until the rest arrived. Eventually, I dodged her charging at me, her sharp nails threatening to gouge out my eyes, and I swung my sword up, cutting off her beautiful wings.

Her scream deafened all the sounds in the woods and she fell while clawing at her back. I simply turned and sprinted for the princess, who was sitting up on her knees in confusion. Oh the poor thing…

I had her. I picked her up, I cradled her in my arms, I brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, and then everything went dark.

I don’t know what the great fairy did to me, but the next thing I remembered were knights hovering over me, cutting off thick vines and roots constricting me.

“Leon, are you ok? Say something!” Valansuela shouted in a desperate attempt to wake me, and I was released from the bonds and helped up. I was confused, for I remembered standing and holding the princess. But here I was, almost stuffed inside a tree, the dawn breaking, and the great fairy gone with the princess. I had failed…

On top of it all, the first knight of Hyrule, Sir Arthur, was killed in the battle.

The morning of the kidnapping was… drastically different from the night before. The king and queen were distraught over their second daughter’s kidnapping, the soldiers were searching every inch of the kingdom to find her, and the knights were mourning their leader. I was sent straight to medic because of the injuries I sustained while unconscious, and despite actually fighting her, no one believed that a great fairy kidnapped the princess. Perhaps they were in denial that such a divine being would do such a thing, or they thought I had grown mad from the fight, but I know what I saw. I know what she was, and she killed my friend. It was beyond frustrating to deal with, but I was too… tired to try to convince them.

As grim as it seems though, I am… grateful that I was injured, because I had a few weeks to myself recovering. I… can’t tell you how many sleepless nights I had after that night. Nightmares of the princess’s cries, the great fairy coming for revenge, and you being stolen away from me plagued my mind. I couldn’t let you out of my sight, so much so that I would sometimes watch you while you slept, as if looking away would cause you to be stolen away. I’m just glad that I could stay with you until I felt… fine enough to leave you with the maids.

I’ve never forgotten the great fairy though, no matter how many people tried to convince me she wasn’t a great fairy. The memory of her wings, her scream, her smile… I just could never forget it. I always try to keep my eye out for her, and I’ve even gone searching for her once. But just like all the soldiers searching for the princess, I came up empty.

And it saddens me deeply to know that she was never found. The king and queen never got closure on what happened to her due to passing away when you were about five, and Zelda never got to remember her sister. It's just… I wish I could’ve done better for her. I wish I didn’t fail…

No matter what people tell you boys, please know that anything is capable of evil acts, even creatures like fairies. Be wary of every stranger, creature, and animal that comes your way. You never know what they are planning, and what they’ll do to you.