#“daughter” would be on my tombstone

[violet-jessop]

insane that once a month i lose my mind alongside my uterus' lining

[hella1975]

i can’t believe not even 24 hours ago i was in an exam like that still feels like something i hallucinated

[celiastjamesoscar]

To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

���Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

[ivvyela]

imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.

i know, i know - but please, let me cook.

wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.

after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."

"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."

"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "

"oh, i actually... i never told them."

"...come again?"

"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."

"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"

"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "

"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."

which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"

(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)

peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?

and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?

and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.

and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.

so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.

and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.

("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."

"you're... huh?"

"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")

peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.

wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.

maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.

(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)

[fanfics-and-love]

We Get Along Like Snow in New York

Sam Carpenter x reader

Not my gif

Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mostly fluff surprisingly

Word count: 4k words

Request: Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die) ask

A/N: I changed Dewey being Y/N’s uncle to father basically because it adds more drama to the story

masterlist

You had been living in New York with your mother ever since your parents’ divorce, having left behind the small town you had grown up in, and were ready to forget all about your father’s untimely death at the hands of a psychopath.

That was how you met Tara Carpenter, or more accurately, how you reunited with her.

Before your parents started arguing over the smallest thing, before your father quit his job, before you left town one day crying, you had been friends with Tara. You liked her because, unlike the rest of your classmates, she didn’t stare at you because you were Dewey and Gale’s daughter. She simply liked spending time with you, and you with her, which blossomed into a fast friendship that was sure enough cut short.

You were the best of friends, always hanging out. Sometimes, when your father came to pick you up from school, he would let you and Tara sit in the back of his police car and turn on the sirens, pretending you were dangerous criminals. You would cling onto Tara, giggling as your father joked around; you cherished those moments more than anything now that Dewey was simply a memory— a tombstone you couldn’t look at without crying.

That was exactly the reason why you reached out to Tara when your mother told you she had moved in with her sister, just like her wanting to leave behind that nightmare. She had happily agreed to meet with you, and you soon found yourself at a bar, drinking and talking, catching up with everything. She had pointedly left behind all that happened in Woodsboro, and you silently agreed, not wanting to remember your father, dead on the ground thanks to her friend. You had spent hours like that, phones on the table face-down so no one could interrupt you, and that was how you met Sam.

Sam was a blurry image to you. You could remember Tara mentioning her probably a little too much when you were young, always talking about how great her sister was at a certain sport, or how she had helped her defeat that big mean guy on a videogame because she couldn’t do it. You had never met her, however, because you barely went over to Tara’s, your mother prefering to keep a watchful eye on you just in case. You didn’t get much of a chance, however, because she left one day and suddenly all the loud praise was occupied by awkward silence.

Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to think of Sam, but she made up your mind for you pretty easily. She walked into the bar like she owned it, a tall figure clad in just a jacket that almost ran towards your table when her brown eyes landed on Tara.

“Sam?” Tara asked, leaving her glass of coke on the table to get up. “Did something happen?”

“Who are you?” Sam asked, not even looking at Tara to give her answer. You felt small under her intense stare.

“She’s Y/N,” Tara said, harsher than you expected. “An old friend.” Sam gave you another look, as if her eyes were enough to determine if you were a danger to her sister. You stayed still, as if you were being approached by a lion.

“We’re leaving,” Sam said. Tara gave you an apologetic look, and you simply nodded, watching as she got up and followed her sister. Outside, you saw them arguing, their screams almost sneaking in through the thick walls of the bars. You asked for the tab, thankful that your mother was rich.

What a bitch, you thought, shaking your head as you left the place, walking back towards your mother’s apartment.

A few hours later, Tara texted you to apologize, and once you replied she sent you her address, asking you to come over.

Having nothing better to do, you accepted.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

“I’m so sorry,” Tara said, as soon as she closed the door. You took off your jacket, looking around before you sat down on the sofa Tara had pointed at.

“It’s okay,” you said, accepting the glass of water she handed you.

“God, I can’t stand her,” she said, throwing herself onto the sofa beside you. “She’s been like that ever since—” she gave you a small look before shaking her head. “You know. She’s so overbearing.”

“I get it,” you said, resting the glass on the coffee table. “I mean, you should’ve seen my mom when I was young. She barely let me go out when we moved here.”

Something like recognition crossed her eyes. “Right,” she said, sitting up. “Your mom’s Gale.”

“Yep,” you nodded, intertwining your hands together. “You guys killed the new ghostface together.” Something dark crossed over Tara’s face at the name, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.

“Yeah,” Tara said, voice sounding distant even though she was beside you. “Yeah, we did.”

“You know what?” You said, trying to cheer her up. “Forget about that. Tell me what’s your favorite artist.” Tara smiled, nodding as she turned to look at you. She opened her mouth at the same time the front door was opened.

“Oh.”

You turned to look at the woman, awkwardly standing by the door. For the looks of it, she was about to bolt from the apartment.

“You,” Tara said accusingly, rising from the sofa. She poked her sister in the chest with her index finger, and it was your time to wish you could leave this place. You couldn’t deal with family drama; you had had enough of it in your childhood.

“Me,” Sam said, allowing Tara to push her further into the apartment and close the door, leaving her no chance but to take the reprimand.

“Yes, you,” Tara said. You opened your eyes in surprise when she pointed at you. “You are going to apologize immediately to my friend for embarrassing her.”

“You’re the one embarrassing her now—”

“Samantha,” Tara said. It was funny to see the tall woman being bossed around by her sister, who was almost a head shorter. “You apologize right now.”

Sam looked into her sister’s eyes, and nodded. She turned to look at you, and you swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, offhandedly. “Don’t worry. I get it. My mom is even worse with people she doesn’t know.”

Sam nodded, and made a noise of complaint when Tara slapped her arm. “Her mom’s Gale.”

She opened her eyes, understanding crossing her face. “Shit,” she said, looking defeated. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” you repeated. “Really. My mom doesn’t mention me too much to strangers just in case. You couldn’t have known.”

“I’m going to my room,” Tara said. You gave her an indignant look. “Sam, apologize.”

“I already apologized!” Sam called. Tara didn’t look her way, instead turning and leaving, presumably towards her bedroom.

“Well, do it again!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut.

“As cheerful as I remember her,” you said, not sure how to fill the awkward silence.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Tara,” you clarified. “She used to be like that when she was young too. Good to know some things never change.”

“You— oh,” Sam said. You smiled at the look of recognition.

“Y/N Riley-Weathers,” you said, getting up. “I know, it’s a mouthful. My mom insisted I should have both last names.”

Sam smiled, nodding. “Right,” she said. “You mom is— interesting.”

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but when it comes to her job… I’m surprised she hasn’t interviewed you for her new book yet.”

“She’s writing another book?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs of the dining table.

“She’s always writing another book,” you said, reaching towards your jacket, which Tara had left on the table. “Well, apology accepted. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait,” Sam called, getting up. “I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

“Well, you sure have made quite the impression,” you said.

“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just… Tara wasn’t answering the phone, for hours, and I saw an ambulance on my way out from work and I just… I thought she was gone.”

You smiled softly, understanding washing over you. The image of Dewey crossed your mind, always watching over you, keeping you safe no matter what. You had hated it back then, but now he wasn’t here anymore, you missed him and his protective nature more than anything. “I get it,” you said. “Really. But you should approach it differently. Tara is kinda headstrong on being her own person.”

“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I just can’t help it.”

“It’s something you have to work on,” you said. “You ought to be a little bit messed up after what happened.”

“You saw the news, then?”

“Please. I live with the news,” you chuckled. “And if I’m not home in half an hour she’s going to call the police and have them patrol every corner of New York until they find me.”

“You should leave, then,” Sam said as she got up, running a hand through her face. She looked stressed, and tired. You felt sorry she had to go through all that just because of who her father was. “I— I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I get it,” you said, putting on your jacket. “You’ve been through a lot. You just want to protect your sister.”

Sam looked at you, thankful that even though Tara seemed so focused on not understanding her, at least someone else did. “It’s still not an excuse.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed, walking to stand in front of her. “How about this?” You moved closer to her, grabbing her jacket to stop her from pulling away. Her eyes were open in surprise at your boldness. “You take me out one day to compensate for your vile actions.”

Sam’s lips revealed a playful smirk as her hands grabbed your waist. The touch was soft, almost unsure since she didn’t know how much you would allow her. “I guess it’s my penitence.”

You hummed, eyes momentarily on her lips before looking up again at her eyes. “Pick me up tomorrow, six o’clock.”

Sam nodded, her hands dropping as soon as you moved away. “Wait!” She called when you began to open the front door. You turned around, giving her a questioning look. “I don’t have your number.”

You smiled, walking towards her. Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket, but you simply kissed her cheek and pulled away. “Ask your sister.”

You left her there, eyes on you as you disappeared through the door. 

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

Shortly after that, you two began dating. Tara was a little taken aback at first, the thought of her childhood friend and her sister together disgusting her to the point she made a face whenever she saw the two of you kissing. Thankfully, she got over it quickly, her discomfort shortly turning into excitement. Her sister was happy with someone she approved of, and given that you two were dating, all of Sam’s overprotective tendencies had changed direction and were now aimed at you.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t.

You were staying over, having decided to sleep in Sam’s bedroom after she asked you to; something about it being too late and some news she had read about cabs in New York not being trustworthy (you had rolled your eyes at that because, really, what was trustworthy in New York?) You had barely needed convincing, the thought of her warm bed and her arms, firmly and protectively wrapped around you enough to convince you.

You woke up alone in bed, and went over to check your phone. 06:32. Sam would probably be getting ready for work, judging by the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, so you decided to get up and make breakfast for her and Tara, who would be leaving for college.

You had taken a year off after your father’s funeral, knowing that studying wasn’t exactly what you needed, especially because you were aware you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. You needed to heal, and thankfully your mother was okay with your decision.

You made toast with eggs and bacon for Sam, and got out a bowl and cereal for when Tara woke up, since she had declared one day she was vegan and didn’t want to “eat murder anymore”, whatever that meant. You got it all ready and smiled when you heard Sam open the bathroom door, going to the kitchen when she smelled the food.

“God, you’re amazing,” Sam said, hugging you from behind. You turned off the stove, moving the food onto a plate. She smelled amazing, the shampoo she used fresh and still clinging to her skin. Though she had dried her hair, it was still a little wet where it connected with your neck, making you giggle.

“I know, right?” You said, leaning into her. You loved how warm she always was, in comparison to your cold skin. “I’m the best girlfriend ever.”

“Indeed,” Sam said against your head, biting your earlobe before kissing your neck. “The bestest of them all.” You giggled again, her breath tickling your skin pleasantly.

“God, it’s not even seven in the morning.”

Sam and you turned around to see Tara, standing in the kitchen with an angry look on her face. She was not a morning person.

“My apologies, Tara dear,” you said, pushing Sam into a chair and putting the plate in front of her. You handed her the cutlery with a kiss on the forehead, smirking when Tara groaned. “You want something with your cereal?”

“I want you to stop making out with my sister everywhere.”

“Hard pass,” you said, moving Sam’s hair to help it get dry faster. “Your sister is obsessed with me.”

“Ugh,” Tara said, pouring in the cereal before drowning it with soy milk. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”

“Our souls would’ve found a way back to each other without your intervention,” you said, resting your chin on top of Sam’s head. The girl smiled, abandoning her knife in favor of holding your hand.

“Gross.”

“You are gross,” Sam said.

“Look who’s talking,” Tara said, giving her sister a mocking look of disgust. “I know what you two get up to in that room of yours.”

“Jesus, Tara,” you said, pulling away to walk towards the living room. “Eat your breakfast and stop talking, will you?”

“Ah, so you don’t deny it.”

“Idiot,” you whispered. You sat down on the sofa, searching for the remote controller. Once you did, you turned the TV on, and sighed when you saw your mother on the screen. “She really doesn’t know what it means to take a break.”

You turned on the volume when you saw she was standing in front of an alley, police tape behind her. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you saw the headline.

“Ghostface is back.”

“Sam,” you called, urgently. You went to check your phone as Sam got up, probably alarmed by the tone of your voice. You finally saw all the notifications from your mother, calling you and asking where you were.

“Honey?” She asked, looking at you with concern. She lowered herself in front of you, eyes examining you to know what was wrong. You pointed at the TV, and once she read the headline she tensed, the hand on your thigh gripping you hard. “No,” she said, breathlessly.

“What is it?” Tara asked, picking up on the mood shift. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the TV, still going over the news.

“I—” Sam said. She looked out of it, face stoic as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “I have to go to work.”

“College,” said Tara in the same tone. You watched with concern as the two moved around the house, almost on autopilot, gathering their things and getting ready to leave.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” You said to Sam when you saw her in her work clothes. She nodded, eyes not fully looking at you as she opened the front door Tara had just left through. She shook her head as if to get rid of a haze, and gave you a long kiss.

“I love you,” she said against your lips.

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

But you didn’t see her later, or the next day. When you went over to the apartment, Quinn told you they had gone over to meet with Chad and Mindy, so you went back over to your mother’s house.

She was pushing you away. You knew it, and you hated it. You hated how she was letting this new ghostface get in between you, but you mostly hated how she felt like being with you would put you in danger.

You almost laughed out loud at the thought, there in the middle of the street. As if. Your mother was Gale Weathers, your father Dewey Riley— this shit had been following you way before you met her. But of course, it was Sam. Sweet, caring Sam, who constantly put others first, who always did anything to protect those she loved, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.

Once you were inside the apartment, you sat down in your bed, looking at all the unanswered messages you had sent her the past few days.

Samantha, you wrote, and then deleted. It felt too formal. You typed in a final message before locking your phone, throwing yourself onto the bed.

You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but you were awakened by the sound of the phone line ringing. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you got up, cursing your mother for still owning one of those. It wasn’t the 90s anymore.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N,” the sound of that voice made your skin run cold. “Wanna play a game?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m inside your house,” they said in a singsong voice. “Wanna play hot and cold?”

━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━

When Sam saw she had gotten a call from Gale, she knew something was wrong.

She had known early that morning when she woke up, something in the pit of her stomach telling her to go to you, to hold you and never let you go. But she couldn’t, not until she figured out who was behind those new attacks. She wouldn’t risk you— she wouldn’t lead that killer right to your doorstep and have you killed because of her. No, she would rather die than put you in that type of danger.

“It’s Y/N,” Gale said urgently, when she answered the phone. “I— I called an ambulance. They’re on their way, but— god.”

Sam had started running towards your apartment the moment your name fell out of your mother’s lips. She pushed people out of the way, barely noticing she was gasping for air, or that Gale was still talking.

“—so much blood,” she said. Sam ran into the gateway, pressing onto the elevator bottom a few times before cursing, deciding to take the stairs instead.

“Is she breathing?” Sam asked. One more floor, one more and she’d be there with you.

“I—” Gale was gasping for air. “I don’t know.”

Sam pushed the door open, thankful it had been left ajar. She didn’t see the blood on the floor, or your mother crying beside you— all she could see was your body, bloody and deadly still.

“Y/N,” she called in a whisper. Gale jumped at the sound of Sam’s phone falling to the ground, knife in hand ready to kill anyone who had dared hurt her daughter. She lowered it at the same time Sam lowered herself on the floor, hands shaking as she grabbed you and held you in her arms. Her fingers clumsily set on your neck, trying to find a pulse like a thirsty man searches for water in the desert. She gasped in relief when she felt it. Slow, a little too slow, but it didn’t matter; your heart was still beating.

“I can’t lose her,” Gale sobbed. “I already lost Dewey, I can’t… not her,” she looked at Sam with pleading eyes; she had never seen your mother so paralyzed with fear. It was an eerie sight.

“You won’t,” Sam said, voice firm. She took off her outer shirt, using it to press onto your biggest wound, which was located on the stomach. “She’s not dying. She’s not.”

Determination washed over, taking with it the leftovers of panic and distress. There would be time for lament and regret later, once you were safely in a hospital bed.

“God,” Gale said when Sam began to raise you. Blood splashed over the carpet, and she almost threw up at the sight.

“You called an ambulance?” Sam asked. She was holding you in her lap, your head falling limply into her shoulder.

“Yes.”

“I’m taking her downstairs,” Sam said. The pressure she was applying on the wound was helping, because it had stopped most of the bleeding. “I’m not fucking waiting until they get their fucking asses up the stairs.”

And so she got up, holding you in her arms. She carefully cradled your head in her neck, making sure it stayed secure so you wouldn’t accidentally hit something and got a concussion. It was the last thing you needed at that moment. She made sure your hands were on your stomach, pressing lightly onto the wound —it was better than nothing.

“You’re not dying on me,” Sam whispered. She was climbing down the stairs, Gale right behind her. “You’re not, okay, baby?” She felt herself getting choked up at the thought. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Shortly after, the ambulance showed up, and Sam ran towards them. She set you down onto the stretcher gently, and pressed onto the wound until one of the paramedics reached over, grabbing her hand and telling her she needed to leave.

She stood where she had been forced to stay, ignoring all the looks she received. It wasn’t until Gale grabbed her by the arm and moved her out of the way that she noticed she had been standing in the middle of the road.

“She’s being taken to the hospital,” she spoke softly. Sam looked at her arms, covered in blood— covered in your blood, and she almost broke down. Instead, she swallowed, putting her hands on her pockets. “I’ll take you there. I picked up your phone,” she pushed it into Sam’s chest, and she grabbed it. Great, the screen was completely broken. “Call your sister and tell her what’s happened. Tell her you’ll meet at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Sam said. Her dull tone almost scared her. She felt drained. “Okay,” she repeated, watching as Gale went to her car and got inside. It took her a few seconds to open the passenger door, and a few too many trying to unlock her phone to call her sister.

All she could think about was you, and getting revenge on what they had done to you.

[sarawritestories]

Oh Gods I Wish You Were Here

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: The holidays are fast approaching, and Cassian can feel the void now more than ever.

Content warning: mention of death, holidays, grief, and tears probably, not proofread.

A/N: Not how I intended to come back, but I got in my feelings, and this was the result.

Don't take it personally that I didn't tag this one...I just wanted to get it out as the words came.

Joy to the world. The war was over Feyre's birthday was upon them, along with Winter Solstice. Velaris snow covered, warm lights illuminating the longer evenings. Cassian could hear your daughter laughing alongside his cousin Nyx. All was right with the world.

Just not Cassian's.

As he looked at the daughter, the two of you shared, he reached out that familiar bond, and he did his best to cover his flinch as a reaction to the winter breeze rolling in. And not the ache of the end of the fading gold bond being hollow. The painful reminder that you were not here. Not watching your daughter growing up or laughing at his corny jokes.

The Mother was cruel.

"Daddy," he smiled, swallowing the tears threatening to form, "Nyx said we get to go decorate the tree at Auntie FeyFey and Uncle Rhysie's house" Aria, your 6 year old, raised her arms up and was in Cassian's embrace in an instant, his wings curving to block the wind. "Can we, pretty please?"

Cassian wanted to fall to his knees. She had your smile, the twinkle in your eye when you were excited about something. It wasn't fair.

You should have been the one to soak in these moments. To enjoy in the holiday luster. To see your child grow into a person. To see that she had your looks, personality, and your mate's whole heart.

But illness doesn't discriminate. It takes and it takes. He continues to take until its victim has nothing left, and the General of the Night Court's army only had a tombstone, and the memories you both shared as illness managed to claim another innocent soul.

Cassian had no time to grieve as Aria needed him, needed him to live, to move forward, to get out of the bed. He had to live so that Aria had her best chance at life.

The sounds of familiar voices hit his ears as Nyx led him and Aria to the townhouse, a continual meeting place for Solstice. Rhys greeted them, and Aria was greedy to get out of her father's arms and embrace her uncle. "Can we decorate the tree?"

Rhys laughed and kissed her cheek, "Of course, Starlight. Go find Auntie FeyFey and Uncle Az." Aria was quick to grab Nyx's hand, leaving the two Illyrian males behind. Rhys' gaze met his, and talons scratched at Cassian's walls.

"I'm fine," Cassian grumbled.

"Well, over 500 years, and you are still a horrific liar." Rhys flicks some lint off his shirt and sits on the stoop. Cassian joined him his wings tucked in tight. "I know the holidays are hard."

Cassian shook his head, "Aria, started school. She's made friends and takes art classes. It's not fair, Rhys. Aria shouldn't have to learn about her through stories at night time. She should be here Rhys." Cassian tucked his face in his hand a sob racking out of his body. "I want her here."

Rhys held his friend tightly. As Cassian roared, "Oh God's I wish you were here!" The door creaked open, and tiny hands gripped onto Cassian's wrist. He uncovered his face to see Aria smiling. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he sniffled as he pulled his child to his chest, trying to compose himself from his outburst.

Aria kissed his cheek, "Look, Daddy. A gift for you. Uncle Azzy said you could open it early." An envelope with his name in her tiny hands with...your handwriting. He gently took it from the small child and opened it.

Hey Handsome,

If you're reading this, then it must be Solstice, and our little girl is not so little anymore. I need you to know that if you're reading this that I fought hard. I fought so that you would never had to open these. I think we both know the outcome. I know you are hurting. I know you are fighting to keep our girl safe and protected and loved. I will never be able to thank you enough for the bravery you had before, during, and after this hardship.

Know I'm there with you, every big milestone, every storytime, every boo boo you kiss for Aria. And I'll be there through the bad stuff too, I'm sure. I get to look down at you from the stars and make sure you're safe and protected, for once. I love you, Cassian. I promise that we will find each other in the next life and we will have more time. There are letters for both you and Aria for big milestones, Az was given strict instructions on when to deliver them for you. When the world seems like too much and the void is too great, maybe my words will help the two of you grow and move on in my absence.

All My Love,

Your Sweetheart.

"Daddy?" Aria looked at him with eyes that matched his own, "what did it say?" Cassian smiled aware that the two were now alone

Cassian held her close and looked up at the stars, illuminating the town. "Look up at the night sky, little one." She did, and as the two looked on, a star flashed across the star, and Cassian heard her little gasp. "That was Mommy. She was letting us know she was here."

Aria snuggled against her father's chest, "I miss her." She whispered.

"Me too, Princess, me too." And the duo looked up at the night sky and wished that their favorite person was looking back at them.

~Fin

[fl3shm4id3n]

Girl I saw u open requests for spider verse and I ran here right away snsnsknsmsjdndh I'm bad at explaining shit but could you write something for miguel that's like wait i forgot what I was gonna say damn I had a good scenario in my head too well hell never mind just ignore this I think im still tweaking lmao

ₗₐ ᵥᵢᵤdₐ ₍ₜₕₑ Wᵢdₒw₎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ-ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ!(ᴡɪꜰᴇ) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʏʟ��ᴇʀꜱ- ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ

TW: Angst, Death, grieving, comfort towards the end

A/N: I had a fic idea for Miguel (My beloved), and now I shall write it. I listened to I bet on losing my dogs by Mitski while writing this. I didn't cry, I swear. I hope this was to your liking, I couldn't wait, I had the need to write something.

Masterlist

You had lost everything, your daughter and your husband. You knew that being Spider-Woman had a prize, but you didn't expect for it to be like this. First it was your aunt and now your family was gone. Sometimes you wished that you could of gone back in time in time to save your husband and daughter, but there was no way. The first weeks, you basically slept at the graveyard, on top of there tombstones, you didn't want to part away from them.

For many years you've mourned, you never let yourself fall in love again, your husband was the love of your life and the only man that you'd ever love. You felt as if you were betraying him in a way, you had promised to him that you'd never love anyone else but him and him only. You still had your wedding wing, you'd wear it on your hand and when out on patrol, you never took it off. You also still had his stuff in your room, pretending as if he was still there, you didn't have the heart to give his stuff away to people who needed it, you couldn't do it.

You also kept your daughter's room the same, you left it alone, the only time when you'd move anything was when you'd go to clean off the dust and change the bedsheets. Sometimes you'd go in her room to just look at the stuff she had, you felt as if she was with you the whole time. You'd lay on her bed while hugging her soccer jersey, her first jersey, sometimes you'd cry on the shirt, wishing that she was there, telling you and your husband about her game. Just like your husband's things, you didn't want to give them away. How could you? She was you first baby, your daughter, the one that you carried in your belly for nine months, the one who'd cry when she was hungry or wanted her parents attention, she was yours and Miguel's baby. Gabriella will always and forever be your child. Sometime you wore the little gold bracelet that she owned when she was still a baby, on a necklace, to have something of hers on while on patrol.

That was unexpected, you had ended up in a secret Spider Society with Miles. A boy you began to work with after bumping into one another while trying to stop a mugger, that was when you decided to team up together as a duo. You knew about his identity and he knew about yours. You both had come up with the excuse that you were a lady that was teaching him Spanish since his parents would wonder where he'd wonder off to. It worked his you knew Spanish, it was a different kind of Spanish, but his mother was happy that he was learning it.

You were getting to learn about all the Spider-Men and women, how they were all from different dimensions and what they did in headquarters. Then you got taken to a room, where who you assumed the leader of the whole thing was. As soon as you saw who it was, you nearly fainted. It was the one and only, Miguel O'Hara, your husband, well, not really your husband, but it was him.

"Y/n... is that who I think it is?" Miles whispered to you, then he saw the look off shock in your face, getting the idea that you knew who it was. Miles knew about your past, who your husband and daughter were. When the man turned, his serious face turned to one of shock, just like yours. Gwen was the one to noticed both you and Miguel staring at each other, then she had an idea. "I...um.. I'm going to show Miles around a bit" she excused, then took Miles by the arm, guiding him out and Hobie followed them.

Miguel approached you slowly, seen every inch of you, wanting to see if it was you, his wife, not his particular wife, but you were her. After a bit of staring, he spoke. "You're not my wife.." he said, sadly, then you responded. "You're not my husband.." you said, with tears forming in your eyes. Miguel wanted to hold you in his arm so bad, comfort you and tell you how much he missed you, but he didn't.

You sigh, wiping off your tears. "So... you're spider man.." you said, there was a bit of an awkward silence, then he spoke. "And you're spider woman.." he said, as he reached over and placing a pieced of your hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but ask. "Gabriella... how is she..?" you asked, Miguel almost flinched violently by the question. "She's... gone.." he said, sounding very defeated by his response. You swallowed the lump that had built up on your throat. "You too?" you asked, this time tears had spilled from your eyes.

This made Miguel look at you, he got the memo that Gabriella was also gone in your universe. It hurt, seen that in both his and yours universe your daughter was gone. He sighed, seen that you had began to cry, it was obvious that you had not got over his and Gabriella's death like he was. He come over yours and his daughter's death, it took him a while but eventually he understood that no matter what he did, he could never bring you or his daughter back, but he couldn't help but miss the both of you. It was understandable, you were a wife and a mother, who lost both her husband and first baby. And he was a husband and a father that went through the same thing as you. Then he just went for it.

Miguel then pulled you into a tight hug, you didn't hesitate to hug him back. You buried your face onto his chest, crying, letting out all your sadness. You hugged him tightly was your so called Husband rubbed your back comfortingly. Being in his arms, felt like an eternity, you had forgot the last time you were held by him like this. You began to remember the first time you met, it was raining outside one night, and you had forgot to get an umbrella, then you came across Miguel, who was walking somewhere, who knows, but he saw how drenched you were and had offered you his umbrella. You didn't want to take it since you didn't want him to get soaked, but he insisted until you took it. Then he left, that kind gesture meant a lot. Afterwards you had made it your mission to find him and return his umbrella, it was weeks but you finally manage to find him again, in another rainy day, then the rest was history.

Rainy days had become significant to you an Miguel, since you both met on a rainy day. Every time it would rain, you and your husband would go outside to enjoy the rain, not caring that you both would get sick the next day, it was worth it, if it meant being sick together. Then Gabriella came in, she too would also come with you and Miguel out in the rain. "It's okay Mi amor" he said sweetly, but also sadly. You cried more, it's been years since you've been called that by your husband, he wasn't technically your husband, but he was. No matter what universe you were from, you and Miguel would be husband and wife. And Gabriella your daughter, you'd like to think that maybe in a different universe, you were all alive and living a happy life together.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[bansurii]

FOMENT

( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) synopsis: of a girl who becomes a mafia femme fatale

relations; yuji, sukuna, suguru, toji, satoru x reader, special scene nanami x reader

codes; NSFW, NSFM, DNI, smut eventually, dead dove, murder, violence and sex, guns and knives, human anatomy, emotional and physical losses

wc: 2193 ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)

In the somber shadows cast by ancient, towering tombstones, the funeral procession weaved its way through the hushed cemetery. The air was thick with grief, punctuated by the muffled sobs of mourners donned in the customary black attire. Amidst the sea of darkness, one figure stood out conspicuously – a woman draped in ethereal white.

(Name) , the daughter of the deceased, moved gracefully through the mourning crowd, her alabaster gown billowing like a specter in the wind. Murmurs spread like wildfire as eyes followed her unconventional choice of color, a stark departure from the customary mourning garments. Whispers of disapproval and surprise danced in the air, but (Name)  remained undeterred, an enigma wrapped in the purity of her mourning attire.

As she approached the gaping maw of the open grave, a mysterious man emerged from the shadows. Clad in a tailored suit that seemed to absorb the ambient darkness, he exuded an air of intrigue. His eyes, shrouded in mystery, locked onto (Name) 's with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"I was a friend of your father's," he declared, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to echo through the melancholic atmosphere. (Name) 's gaze lingered on him, a cocktail of curiosity and suspicion swirling in her eyes.

"Friend?" she questioned, her tone laced with skepticism. "You must forgive me if I find that hard to believe. I thought I knew all of my father's associates, and you, sir, are a stranger to me."

The man's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Your father was involved in matters that required discretion," he replied cryptically. "The doctors may have deemed his death undefined, but I assure you, there are truths lingering in the shadows that go beyond their diagnoses."

(Name) 's heart quickened as she sensed the weight of his words. Her father's demise had always been shrouded in mystery, the details concealed even from those closest to him. The man's inscrutable aura left her with more questions than answers, sparking a relentless determination to unveil the secrets buried alongside her father.

As the final clods of dirt fell upon the casket, the funeral dispersed, leaving (Name)  alone with the mysterious man and the looming specter of unanswered questions. The unraveling of her father's tangled web would lead her down a perilous path, where the line between loyalty and betrayal blurred, and the truth lay hidden in the shadows of a world she had never fathomed. 

In the days that followed the funeral, (Name)  found herself haunted by the cryptic encounter with the mysterious man. Determined to unravel the enigma surrounding her father's death, she delved into the depths of her father's past, discovering hidden connections and clandestine dealings that transcended the boundaries of legality.

Her investigation led her to dimly lit alleys, smoke-filled rooms, and the backdoors of establishments where whispered conversations carried more weight than any written contract. The underworld her father had inhabited unfolded before her, revealing a dangerous dance between power, loyalty, and betrayal.

As (Name)  navigated this treacherous terrain, the mysterious man continued to hover at the periphery of her life. He appeared when least expected, dropping cryptic hints and urging her to tread carefully. Despite his ominous warnings, (Name)  felt a strange connection to him, a connection that seemed to transcend the shadows that cloaked his true identity.

The more she uncovered, the more she realized that her father's demise was a result of a power struggle within the mafia. The undefined cause of death, as stated by the doctors, was a mere facade to shield the truth. (Name)  grew increasingly aware that the mysterious man held the key to unlocking the secrets buried within her father's world.

One fateful night, as rain poured over the city in torrents, (Name)  received an anonymous message directing her to a desolate warehouse on the outskirts of town. Clad in the same white dress she wore to the funeral, she cautiously approached the dimly lit entrance, where the mysterious man awaited.

"You've been persistent, (Name) ," he acknowledged, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "But you're stepping into a realm where the shadows have eyes, and the truth can be more perilous than the lies that shroud it."

Undeterred, (Name)  pressed on, demanding answers. The mysterious man began to unveil the intricate web of alliances and betrayals that led to her father's demise. Each revelation brought her closer to the heart of the conspiracy, painting a picture of a clandestine world where alliances were fragile, and loyalty could be a deadly illusion.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, (Name)  realized the gravity of her father's role and the dangerous legacy he left behind. The mysterious man, now revealed as a former confidant of her father, guided her through the labyrinth of deceit, helping her navigate the dangerous currents that threatened to consume her.

In the end, (Name)  faced a choice: to expose the truth and risk the wrath of the underworld, or to retreat into the safety of ignorance. Armed with newfound knowledge and a steely resolve, she emerged from the shadows, her white dress stained with the echoes of her father's secrets. The funeral might have marked the end of one chapter, but for (Name) , it was the beginning of a journey into a world where darkness and light coexisted, and the thin line between justice and vengeance blurred into obscurity.

–

Three months earlier…

The scent of aged leather and mahogany permeated the air in her father's expansive home library. (Name)  entered, finding him seated behind a grand oak desk, surrounded by shelves laden with dusty tomes and secrets. His weathered face carried a mixture of weariness and resolve as he looked up to acknowledge her presence.

"Ah, (Name) ," he greeted, his tone laced with a peculiar mix of solemnity and urgency. "Sit, my dear. There are matters we must discuss, matters that transcend the boundaries of the world you've known."

(Name)  took a seat across from her father, her eyes searching his for an explanation to the mysterious summons. He folded his hands, fingers adorned with heavy rings that seemed to whisper tales of a clandestine existence.

"Time is a relentless adversary," he began cryptically, his gaze fixed on a distant point only he could see. "And it spares no one. There are shadows within shadows, my child, secrets that define the balance of power in our world."

(Name)  furrowed her brow, sensing an ominous undercurrent in his words. "Father, what do you mean? What shadows are you speaking of?"

He leaned forward, his eyes piercing hers with a gaze that hinted at the weight of untold burdens. "Our family, (Name) , has long stood at the crossroads of power. The threads of destiny are intricately woven, and now, the mantle must pass to you."

A hush settled over the room as her father unfolded a map, tracing lines that connected their family to the Ryomen, a powerful and elusive clan within the mafia hierarchy.

"The Ryomen family," he intoned, "they hold the keys to alliances that will safeguard our legacy. You must forge an alliance with them, my dear, for they are the guardians who will assist you as you ascend to the throne that is rightfully ours."

(Name) 's eyes widened, the gravity of her father's words sinking in. "But father, I know nothing of this world, of alliances and power plays. Why must I take on such a burden?"

He sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of a lifetime of decisions. "In our world, (Name) , choices are not always ours to make. Fate has set its sights upon you. The Ryomen will guide you, support you. You are destined for more than the sheltered life you've known."

As he spoke, (Name) 's heart raced with a mixture of fear and determination. Her father imparted the legacy of a hidden world, and she found herself standing at the precipice of a destiny she had never imagined.

"Embrace your destiny, (Name) ," her father urged, his voice a whisper that echoed in the quiet library. "Forge alliances, navigate the shadows, and when the time comes, rise to power. The Ryomen will be your allies, but remember, the path to greatness is fraught with sacrifice and choice."

–

As the moon hung high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the city, (Name)  decided to temporarily escape the weight of her newfound responsibilities. She invited her closest friend, Yuji Itadori, to accompany her for a night on the town. Yuji, always up for an adventure, readily agreed, his infectious enthusiasm providing a welcome respite from the shadows that loomed over her.

The city's vibrant lights illuminated their path as they strolled through bustling streets, laughter and music permeating the air. (Name) , dressed in a gown that mirrored the night sky, felt a fleeting sense of normalcy. The weight of her family's legacy momentarily lifted, replaced by the carefree energy of the city at night.

As they entered a chic, dimly lit lounge, the atmosphere buzzed with lively chatter and the soothing melodies of a jazz band. Yuji guided (Name)  to a secluded corner, where they settled into plush chairs, clinking glasses to celebrate the ephemeral escape from their responsibilities.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter, shared memories, and the warmth of friendship. Yuji, always the life of the party, danced with infectious energy, pulling (Name)  into the swirl of music and laughter. In those moments, the complexities of the mafia world faded into the background, allowing (Name)  to savor the simple joy of camaraderie.

As the night progressed, they encountered a mysterious figure at the bar – a man whose eyes seemed to carry the weight of unspoken stories. Yuji's demeanor shifted subtly as he exchanged guarded glances with the stranger. When (Name)  inquired about their connection, Yuji's usually open demeanor turned reticent.

"That's just an old acquaintance," he dismissed, attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere. Despite her pressing questions, Yuji remained tight-lipped, the lines on his face betraying a mix of nostalgia and caution.

Curiosity gnawed at (Name) , but she respected Yuji's silence, knowing that some chapters of his life were meant to remain untold. The enigmatic man, acknowledging their presence with a nod, slipped away into the shadows of the crowded venue, leaving behind an air of mystery.

As the night waned, (Name)  and Yuji emerged from the lounge, the city's nocturnal pulse still throbbing around them. The encounter lingered in the back of (Name) 's mind, a puzzle piece that refused to fit into the larger picture of her life.

As they walked through the quiet streets on their way home, (Name)  stole a glance at Yuji, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The unspoken connection between him and the mysterious man added yet another layer to the intricate tapestry of their intertwined destinies.

In the days that followed, (Name)  couldn't shake the feeling that the encounter marked a subtle shift in the winds of fate. The shadows that clung to her family's legacy seemed to stretch further, intertwining with the enigma of Yuji's past. Little did she know, the threads of their stories were destined to weave together, revealing a tapestry of alliances and betrayals that transcended the boundaries of the clandestine world they inhabited.

Arriving back at (Name) 's home, Yuji started to speak, though his inability to find the right words about the evening kept him from loosening his tongue. (Name)  realized he wouldn’t be able to find a single syllable until she spoke, “it’s alright, Yuji. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. But you seem different, do you want to stay here for the night?”

His bright smile lit up her porch and the heavy energy that once lingered. “I really appreciate your understanding, but I should get back home. – I wish I could stay… but maybe another time.”

(Name)  acquiesced and watched with lightly saddened eyes as Yuji stepped off of her porch slowly. She turned to enter her own home and stalked up her steps to her bedroom where she would sleep off a long day filled with confusion and stress and the end of a good time with a great friend. 

—

“You know what you need to do, Yuji.”

Yuji sat in the armchair, however comfortable it was, he couldn’t appreciate it with the burden of a new action in order for him. He sat silently for a moment, thinking of how to tell these people, his family, that he just fucking couldn’t. 

He finally looked up at the man sitting across from him, black hair wavering in the cool air of the home with similar dark eyes burning into his soul. He fought back the fire with his own, winding his energy up to say, “I won’t do it. You don’t know what she means to me, or who she is. She isn’t just some string to play with and cut down. She means more to me than this family does and if you think for a second that-”

“Fine. I’ll give you a week to decide. It’s her… or her father.”

[writingoddess1125]

Okay since Corazon is dead, sadly, and he will never get to see his child grow, do you think reader will take them to his grave and told stories ( mostly about how clumsy he was) to their kid?

Heart of Gold

Ready to Cry! You've been Warned

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ Sad Topics, Character Death, Bittersweet.

If you Like Click Here! <-

"Mami! Mami!" Your 6 year old daughter called out to you, running ahead as she smiled back at you proudly- it seemed a 20 minute hike didnt slow her down as much as it did you.

Dulce looked more like him everyday- it would be difficult to hide her once she got older... his big goofy smile, The Mess of blonde hair that seemed impossible to tame besides a beanie you put her in.

With a on her lips she continued to trudge through the snow, not letting the winter weather denture her it seemed. She hated to miss the weekly visits to her father..

It was another few minutes of walking before you reached it- The beautiful open clearing that had a single headstone surrounded by clear untouched snow besides two bare rose bushes on either side of the grave. It looked truly sorrowful during the winter and made the reality harder-

During the spring the clearing was filled with pink bleeding heart flowers and the rose bushes would blood, making it feel like Corazon was near by and next to you. Youd had planted it all when your daughter was one and the since bloomed just around her birthday- You'd said it was a gift from her father.

Dulce rushed forward, Sitting right infront of the stone. Uncaring of the cold as she started her normal routine. Clearing the snow off the stone while chatting away.

"Hace Frío.. don't worry! All the snow gone soon" Dulce said cheerfully, finishing wiping the snow as you took a seat. Pulling out candles to light, however pausing when you saw something to the left of the stone. Picking it up it was a fresh pack of unopened cigarettes- the same brand Corazon uses to smoke.. setting it down I front as you decided to leave the offering someone had clearly left your partner-

Dulce helped you light the candles and set out some of the things your brought, a cherry cake and a bottle of the liquor he liked. Once everything was set you sighed content.

"Can you tell me about him?" Dulce asked, always asking this when you two visited and wanting a new story about him.

"Yes my darling- Well He Acted very tough" You said with a giggle, choosing your words carefully.

"See- Your father had the act of a big tough guy, but if you scratched the surface you saw how much of a Goofy sweet man he was. Biggest heart too"

Dulce smiled widely, her attention fully on you as you spun your tale. Talking about the time Corazon had taken you out on a date, trying to be smooth and woo you over as he reached over to wrap a arm around you- however his lit cigarette catching the feathers of his coat and setting him ablaze. Dulce laughing as you described the child like scream he had as he tossed the coat to the ground and rapidly stopped on it like a mad man-

Or when he tried to walk towards you in a 'attractive' way- long strands and -but his long giraffe like legs seemed to not catch up as he face planted hard right before you cracking a tooth and givibg you a bit cheesy smile as you helped him up.

You had Dulce laughing and smiling for half an hour as you told her new and exciting tales of her father. After a while she had to take a moment to catch her breath- you as well. Dulce looking to the stone, as a serious look went over her eyes- Biting her lip a bit hesitantly.

"..Mamí... how did papa.. leave?" She asked softly, you frowning softly at her words.

"That is something even I'd like to know.." You said softly, looking at the gravestone of your lover. You had so many questions yourself... who would kill him? Who had brought him back? Had he intended to leave you and Dulce the way he had?

You wish at times as well it had been you who had brought him back, placing his tombstone- but more then anything you were greatful for whoever it was.. They had brought him home. Your hand reaching out and touching the icy stone with a gentle hand.

Dulce sees you do this, reaching out herself to touch the stone- her tiny fingers flinching at the coldness of it all. She stared for a moment, before reaching into her pockets clumsily-

"Mira, Papa, hice esto para ti- I made it in school" Dulce said softly as she set the now unfolded peice of construction paper down on the gravestone using the full box of cigarettes to pin it so it didn't fly away. There a crayon drawing of three stick figure people standing in the snow- Dulce in the middle holding your hand to the left and to her right a rendering of her father. She had never seen him- but you had told her what he looked like and even showed the single photo you had of him.

The stick figure man having a big red smile, a pink hat and the black feather coat- which looked like your daughter had done squiggles on his shoulder but that just made it sweeter. However what made your eyes misty was the big yellow heart on his chest and the blue halo around his pink hat.

"I hope you like it- Mamí says you had a heart of gold, I couldnt find gold so I hope yellow is okay?" Dulce said softly, beginning to talk about what she did to color it and make it pretty just for him. Speaking to the stone like he was truly there sitting infront of her, saying how she fell when she went to find a pink crayon since another kid took it and so on.

You bit your lip to hold back tears at this, The ache in your heart at the sight and you gently bowed you head to keep your daughter from seeing.

After a moment of silence you reached over, having finally been able to hold back your tears. Reaching over you pat your daughters back-

"Let's head back sugar" You say softly, Your little girl nodding as her nose wad starting to turn red. Scooping her up in your arms you turned away from the stone. Beginning the long walk back to your home-

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Fnaf Movie thoughts!

I wanted to ramble some of thoughts and theories I had about the Fnaf Movie.

Cause the brainrot is real and won't leave my brain.

(wow just read back that sentence. Excuse any grammar errors or dumb shit, I'm still very sick)

Below the cut will feature heavy spoilers, so unless you want to be spoiled of the major twists this movie has, I would recommend wait to read this.

I unfortunately couldn't see the movie in my theatres, cause I got horribly sick and wasn't able to get the full theatre experience.

I was able to watch on Peacock, with all my fnaf plushies with a super sinus clogged headache, so that's the mindset I had. lol

Anyway.. Movie time

I absolutely LOVED Mike and Abby. First off.

I didn't even mind a lot of time of the movie was spent AWAY from Freddy's. Because so much is just about learning about Mike and his family and connection to Abby.

Sure, we could have spent the WHOLE movie at Freddy's. But that is not what this movie is about. And it's clearly trying to tell a bigger mystery and this felt a very introduction friendly entry point to anyone confused about the fnaf lore.

I love how completely obsessed Mike is with Dream theory. To the point he's taking heavy duty sleeping pills on his job that he clearly doesn't need and just is doing it so he can relive his dreams/fabricated memories.

The intro credits with the 8-bit style graphics of the minigames in fnaf2-4??? Like bro? I cried. That was so iconic and they fill in the backstory for the purple guy, who actually appears as his sprite??? Like... Man iconic.

Also... Dude... Mike Schmitt in the movie is like... what the Fans wanted Mike in the games to be for YEARS. Like... Mike in the games is nothing. He's a silent face. We know so little about him, and everything else is purely speculative. Even the whole "he was foxy bro and has regret over his brother" ...That's all theory and not confirmed. As far as we know, Crying child and his brother might not even be Afton kids.

But this Mike is EXACTLY the motivations we wanted Mike to have? If that makes sense? He laments his brother was taken at a young age and expresses regret and motivation to want to get him back. he has the motivations that the fandom built for him for years and ran with it, and I LOVE THAT.

FNAF Movie actually gives good reasons why Mike comes back every night, as said in Living Tombstone's iconic song "why do you want to stay?" Cause of his regrets with his brother and his obsession with dream theory and doesn't realize the animatronics are a threat until like... night four.

THE ANIMATRONICS?? THE PUPPETS??? THEY LOOK SO GOOD??? HECK YEAH!!!!

I SCREAMED when I recognized Matpat's voice, and then I saw his face. Reconized him for his voice WAY before I saw his face. I didn't think he'd have a speaking or face cameo and get to say his iconic "it's just a theory" line and about food too??? King shit.

Letting the animatronics have moments where they can just be cute and friendly as well as creepy and bloodthirsty is so great! I want to give them all pets.

THE CHILD ACTORS ARE ALL SO GOOD! To the point you don't even notice! It's often hard to get children to play a convincing performance, but these children acted really well! They must have a real talented director who knew how to get the best of their child actors. You don't even realize that the child actors are great, cause they're so good it's unnoticeable. AMAZING

VANESSA BEING WILLIAM AFTON'S DAUGHTER IS NOTHING SHORT OF BRILLIANT!!!!

I MEAN, I SCREAMED WHEN SHE SAID "William Afton My father"

I was screaming about this in my group chat.

I was screaming for a thousand years.

AND IT makes sense why the cops never found the bodies. Vanessa is a cop! She's covering for her father!

I absolutely LOVE what a girl failure Vanessa is too!

Like she shows up, HEAVILY flirts with Mike (like she was laying it on so thick my demisexual ass was picking up on her vibe) and just shows up to give him exposition on the FNAF lore. fheogheahf. Like. It's great.

(no doubt she was flirting heavily with Mike at the start due to manipulation from her father, I do believe it grows to genuine fondness later)

I've heard people complain about her flipflop nature... BUT THAT's the POINT!

(a literal arcade game in security breach.)

She let Abby play with the animatronics, knowing it was dangerous. Her original plan was to kill Mike, but she changes her plans when she sees he has a kid. (who she thought was his daughter at first) It was only after Abby got injured by Accident, she realized that what a danger she posed by brining them here at all. She only threatened to shoot Mike because she hoped that such an extreme threat would get him to quit. She even tells him about how many security guards quit. But it doesn't.

She even said she tried to warn in her own way. She's terrified of her father. And we get deep foreshadowing about that throughout the movie.

I really hope that in some sequels we will get to see Vanny at some point. Maybe even Springtrap and Vanny working together in the same movie??? CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS?!?!? I WOULD GO FERAL

Anyway, Vanessa is such a girl failure and my girl blorbo. I support her and her woman's wrongs

The minor look of regret after Will stabs his daughter... peak cinema.

The springlock scene... The quiet of the stabs, giving such a realistic collapse... the "I always come back" ...Embracing the monster he knows he is. He is the mask. He isn't hiding behind the mask, like he is being Steve. he is the mask now. Just... Chefs kiss.

The animatronics dragging springtrap away mirrors the ending of Silver Eyes so well, and I'm glad, because that was the best part of the Silver eyes. <3

THE LIVING TOMBSTONE GOT TOP BILLING FOR THE FIRST CREDITS SONG! PERFECT

Garret is 100% going to be the Puppet in the Movie Series. He was the one taken in the car, the spelling out in the minigame sounds at the very end says: "COME FIND HIM" And after Living Tombstone ends, the credits music fades into Grandfather's clock music box... Puppet's song..... Garret will be the Puppet in this universe and I so look forward to that.

I enjoyed the movie. I'm glad that they left the overarching mystery of Garret open to be explored in the sequel.

[flowerandblood]

The Vanity and Variability (4)

[ Jane Austen • Aemond x Baratheon • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, kissing, masturbation, smut, sexual tension, angst, mention of trauma ]

[ description: Despite coming from a family with royal blood, Aemond is forced because of his brother’s debts to choose one of the daughters of the famously wealthy general, Borros Baratheon, as his wife to save his family from bankruptcy. When he arrives to make his choice he is distraught and discouraged, made all the more so by watching from the sidelines his youngest daughter, who seems more intrigued by his dog than her possible future husband. Slow burn, sexual tension, regency and Jane Austen prose vibe, vain, self-righteous Aemond. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in regency times (1805-1815). The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Aemond & Miss Baratheon & Vhagar Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She didn't suspect it was possible, but after the ball and the brief exchange of words that took place between them, the relationship between her and their guest had warmed significantly in her eyes. She no longer avoided him or held a grudge against him, they even exchanged short, polite pleasantries sometimes when they passed each other at home.

They occasionally came across each other during their long walks and usually then, to her surprise, Mr Targaryen did not avoid her by continuing on his way, but turned back with her, accompanying her silently on her way. Sometimes she dared to ask him one or two questions that she felt did not invade his privacy, but would allow her to learn something about him.

"Do you miss London, sir?" She asked one day, walking beside him with her hands folded behind her back, mimicking his gesture, and he hummed under his breath, looking around at the fields spread out before them, thinking over her question.

"I don't know. Maybe." He said in an absent voice, sunk in his thoughts. His answer surprised her, as she was sure he was going to start talking about what comforts he wouldn't experience here awaited him in London or that his family was waiting for him there.

However, he didn't elaborate on the subject, so she decided not to tire him out or draw anything out of him, recognising that friends should be protective of each other and understand one another.

The thought that a thread of understanding and a kind of mutual concern had been established between them pleased her, as she was no longer uncomfortable in his presence, able to place him at last in her mind as someone who was now part of her home.

She shuddered when she suddenly heard his low, thoughtful voice, not looking at her as the words left his lips.

"Where is your mother buried?"

She glanced at him astonished, feeling some kind of discomfort and pain at her mention. She lowered her gaze, sighing heavily.

"She's buried in the cemetery right behind the church. We're not far away, I can show you what a beautiful headstone our father ordered for her, if you like." She said softly, lifting her gaze to him uncertainly, convinced that he would refuse, that he had only asked her out of pure courtesy.

He, however, hummed under his breath and nodded.

For this reason, they turned onto a different road than usual, leading through the woods to the back of the cemetery. They entered its grounds through a side wicket, rows of old tombstones overgrown with ivy surrounded by the sunlight falling on them through the leaves of the trees. It was beautiful weather, perfect for melancholic walks in such places.

As promised, she stepped into one of the side alleys and stopped in front of a gravestone with a large statue of an angel with a woman's face, looking upwards with a raised hand.

She lowered her gaze, looking down at her fingers and saw out of the corner of her eye how, standing beside her, he made the sign of the cross and folded his hands in front of him, closing his eye, sinking apparently in prayer.

It made her heart warm to see this, feeling somehow that he was showing her mother respect in this way.

From the situation in the church, his approach was more gentle.

She closed her eyes, also deciding to pray, hearing the pleasant rustling of leaves and birdsong all around her.

She thought she wanted to pray for him.

So she asked her mother, who she believed was in heaven, to take care of him, to help him understand himself and make the right choice. That she would guide him as she had guided her through the difficult moments of his life, that she would watch over him in danger and moments of doubt.

She opened her eyes, feeling her heart warm at the thought, and looked at him, his cool, impenetrable gaze fixed on her. He lowered his head, clearly feeling that an awkward silence had fallen between them that he should break, but as usual he struggled to engage in a light, non-committal discussion.

"Please, sir. Don't worry about it. We don't need to talk. You don't even know how happy I am to have been able to come here with you." She said lightly, making the sign of the cross in front of the statue once more and turned away, walking slowly back the way she had come, turning to follow him with a smile over her shoulder.

He merely murmured and moved behind her, catching up with her step, looking around, admiring the beautiful old tombstones. She thought she felt some strange kind of peace in his company, quieting herself completely and appreciating that he was more careful with his words with her.

As they began to approach towards her house he countered that he would take another walk alone, and she nodded, moving away without a word.

He always did this so no one would see them coming back together.

He didn't want her sisters to torment her again.

He was really trying to be her friend and this thought filled her with a warm, pleasant feeling.

As soon as she stepped inside and pulled off her coat, Floris ran up to her, furrowing her brow.

"Have you seen Mr Targaryen? Are you trying to take him for yourself again?" She asked, looking at her reproachfully, Maris leaned out of the living room, listening to the whole exchange of words intently.

"No, I was at the cemetery. I didn't see him." She lied easily, recognising that the last person she intended to confide in was Floris.

Later that day, Cassandra and Ellyn insisted on arranging a walk into town together to take advantage of the fine weather, having heard rumours earlier that there were some lovely new dresses in Mrs Thomson's shop. To her surprise, after much persuasion, not only her brother but Mr Targaryen himself agreed.

Not wanting to frustrate her sisters and listen to the remarks that all his attention was focused on her she walked at the very end, looking around with a gentle smile, somehow happy and reassured that only she knew their little secret.

They were friends.

She saw him glance over his shoulder once in a while, seemingly just looking at the sights around him, but his gaze would focus on her for a moment, just for a moment, as if he wanted to see if she was suffering greatly from having to adapt to her sisters' moods.

The other thing that pleased her greatly was the apparent warming of his relationship with her brother. They often chatted in the sitting room away from the girls, sitting side by side at a small table discussing military and historical literature, which they both devoured in vast quantities, and she thought with amusement that if Royce had not been a man but one of her sisters, Mr Targaryen would have married him.

When they arrived at last they came upon a regiment of soldiers, among whom she immediately spotted Colonel Strong. She looked away, embarrassed by his words at the ball.

He had told her then, after their first dance, that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he would be most reluctant to let her out of his arms. If Mr Targaryen had not interfered, she would have burned with shame.

How could he say such a thing to a girl he was seeing for the first time in his life?

She swallowed loudly and forced herself to smile when she saw him pull off his cap and approach her with a smile, bowing at the waist, and she nodded in front of him, noticing out of the corner of her eye the impatient gaze of Mr Targaryen and Royce in their direction.

She thought he had told her brother of his doubts about him.

"Miss Baratheon. What a wonderful coincidence. I was thinking of you." He said calmly, a gentle, serene smile on his face, but there was something in the way he phrased the sentence, in the look in his eyes that made her uncomfortable.

"Mr Strong. It's pleasure to see you too." She replied as warmly as she could, her sisters looking at her curiously from afar, laughing, probably thinking that some sort of flirtation was just taking place between them.

Her gaze turned to Mr Targaryen, his face expressing strained indifference, his lips tightened, the gaze of his healthy eye directed straight at Colonel Strong.

"I see that you and Mr Targaryen are close." He said lightly, and she immediately turned her face towards him, embarrassed, ready to deny it right away. "If I were you, however, I would not trust him. Everyone knows why he came here, and what he has been doing in London so far with the Countess Rivers."

She swallowed loudly, freezing with her mouth half-open, her voice trapped in her throat. She shook her head, blinking rapidly, trying to put any kind of smile on her face that would hide how horrified she was by his words, how hard her heart began to pound.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean." She said softly, her voice trembling slightly, and hearing this he lowered his gaze and smiled in such an omniscient way that she realised he had drawn exactly the reaction he wanted from her.

"It was a scandalous affair. A much older woman who probably killed her husband to be with her lover and heir to a fortune. Well, the fortune is admittedly gone, but he still has his title and princely blood. He wanted very much to marry her, but did not get permission to do so. His grandfather decided they needed money." He told his story calmly, as if he were spinning some dull tale that might not interest her.

She felt pain, disappointment, regret, her brow furrowed in disbelief, her throat squeezed so tightly that for a moment she had trouble breathing. She looked towards Mr Targaryen, when their eyes met she saw that there was concern on his face.

She turned to face Colonel Strong again, swallowing with difficulty, and she grunted, holding back tears that were rising under her eyelids.

"How would I know if these were not only cruel accusations on your part?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him defiantly, clinging to the hope that he simply wanted to destroy his image in her eyes. He, however, chuckled under his breath, folding his hands behind him, turning his head curiously.

"I think many people can confirm that they heard disturbing noises from the rooms they locked themselves in during the balls in London. Though I assume an innocent creature such as yourself might not know what that means or what it entails." He said softly, and she felt a single, solitary tear of cruel disappointment and pain run down her cheek.

She didn't know what to do with what she was feeling, so she just turned tense and headed for home, heedless of her sisters' calls.

When she heard someone following her, she sped up her stride, not turning around, afraid of who she would see.

"Miss Baratheon. Wait." She heard Mr Targaryen's concerned voice behind her as he tried to level with her step, but she moved away from him immediately when he tried to come closer.

"Did he bother you again? Did he say something inappropriate?" He asked, grabbing her slightly by her arm, wanting to stop her, she however broke away from him aggressively, pushing him back.

"Did he say something inappropriate? A lot of things. About you, sir." She said angrily and they both stopped, breathing loudly, his gaze expressing consternation.

"He told me that you have a good friend in London." She whispered, swallowing loudly, tears one after another running down her cheeks. She looked away, glancing at the fields around them, shrugging her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness.

"It's in the past." She heard his terrified, throaty voice; she knew he was afraid of what she would do with this information. "I have nothing in common with her anymore."

She involuntarily laughed despairingly through her tears at his words, looking at him with raised eyebrows, he was paler than usual, looking at her pleadingly, his lips parted slightly.

"Do you think that is enough? That you would say that you no longer have anything in common with her? What would you say if you found out that Cassandra, Ellyn or Floris had a lover before you came here, on top of that, one you would have the pleasure of seeing among society after marrying them? I will tell you what you would say, sir." She said in a shaky voice, stepping closer to him, he pressed his lips together, swallowing with difficulty, she had the feeling that he himself was on the verge of crying for some reason.

"You would say that they are ungodly harlots unworthy of one look from you, unworthy to have any gentleman as their husband. You would say so because that is the way this world is made, that a man can take what he wants and a woman must wait until someone finally desires her, but in a way that does not deprive her of her honour and her dignity. However, you will not direct this same contempt towards yourself, you will not say that you are ashamed, you will not admit to my father that you are unworthy of his daughters, you will only stand proudly and say that this is the past. A past that would destroy any woman in your position!" She shouted desperately in his face, sobbing loudly, she heard a quiet moan leave his lips at her words, a single tear ran down his cheek.

"I am ashamed." He mumbled in a trembling voice, as if only now the weight of his actions and their significance had overwhelmed him, and she shook her head, distraught and disappointed.

"It's not enough." She mumbled with difficulty and turned, his angry, distraught voice reaching her from behind her.

"Were you as harsh towards your father?"

She felt something inside her freeze, she stopped and turned her pale face towards him. Only seeing the look on her face did his eye widen in horror, understanding what a mistake he had made, how he had misjudged the situation.

"What?" She choked out with a groan of despair, looking at him with her mouth wide open.

He swallowed loudly and shook his head, thus showing her that he would say nothing more, that he was wrong, that if he could he would take back his words spoken in despair and anger.

"What are you talking about, sir?" She asked him louder, feeling the anger rising within her, her heart pounding like mad.

"You should not hear this from me." He mumbled, lowering his gaze, another tear running down his face, his lower lip trembling, his healthy eye open wide.

"BUT I HEARD IT FROM YOU!" She cried out in a breaking voice, putting her hand over her mouth, trying to calm the convulsions of sobs that were breaking out of her throat.

He looked at her, trembling as she did, looking at her pleadingly, shaking his head.

She turned and simply ran away from him and from what she had found out.

Her father moved after her, seeing the state in which she ran into their house, followed her upstairs and knocked on her door. She locked herself up, sitting down by her bed and crying loudly.

"My darling, what has happened? Did someone hurt you? Please, open the door." He said pleadingly, knocking loudly, and she hid her head between her knees and cried further.

Her father had a lover.

A lover he certainly hid from them in London.

How could he?

Did he no longer love her mother?

Had he forgotten her?

She didn't leave her room all day, refusing to eat or drink. She refused to speak or see anyone, sad and depressed, not even Royce's voice compelled her to open up to him.

Late in the evening, lying in her bed in only her nightgown, she heard the sound of a door opening, someone's footsteps and rustling. She glanced behind her and saw that there was a letter lying on the floor beneath her door.

She swallowed loudly, guessing who the sender was, and wondered for a moment whether she should just tear it up and throw it away. However, she decided after a moment that everyone had a right to defend themselves.

She rose from the bedclothes and walked over to the envelope, grasping it in her hands, returning to her bed with it.

It was not sealed.

She opened it and took out two sheets of paper fully filled with small, masculine writing.

Miss Baratheon, I cannot describe how ashamed I feel after what happened today during our walk. I don't even know where to begin, so I will perhaps start with Colonel Strong's words about me, which, sadly, I must admit, are true. Over the past two years I have in fact had an intimate relationship with Countess Rivers. I write about this, as I have already mentioned, with great shame and regret, as this relationship on my part was an expression of my boyish helplessness. In my position, with my appearance, of which you are well aware, the interest of a beautiful and mature woman was something I thought I might never experience again in my life. This, of course, is no excuse, however, now, writing to you, I understand that there were no deep feelings behind my action, but the need to be desired, just as a child desires to be seen and noticed by a parent. I now recognise the deplorable nature of my actions and am ashamed of them, but what happened is irretrievably lost, as is my reputation in your eyes. I also want to make it clear that I deserve to be reprimanded as cruelly as you have inflicted on me and, in a way, I appreciate your honesty and directness, characteristic of a friend, which I am afraid you no longer consider me to be, all the more so after what I said about your father. Here, I must admit, I have nothing to defend myself. My behaviour and my words were shameful and disrespectful, all the more so when you look at the care with which your father welcomed me into your home despite the fact that I had come here to, let us be honest, beg for his daughters' dowry. However, I want to ask you not to lose your good opinion of him. I firmly believe that his decisions are dictated by not destroying your domestic tranquillity and the memory of your mother with another woman who would take her place at his side. After his words, which he has shared with me, I believe that in his eyes there is no one who can fill the void in his heart after his loss of her, and that his behaviour, understandably causing you pain and bringing you disappointment, is due to his loneliness. I have never before met a parent who loved his children so dearly. Even I, as a complete stranger to him, must admit with shame that Mr Baratheon pays more attention to me than my own father. You asked me some time ago if I missed London, but I was ashamed to answer you at the time that I did not. I only miss my mother and my younger brother, with whom, thank God, I maintain regular correspondence. To conclude this letter and my pathetic tale, I would like to apologise to you and assure you that I will understand if you tell your father about everything, I am ready to give him all the necessary explanations for my disgraceful behaviour. I also want to assure you that this is indeed the end of that unfortunate relationship for me and I have no intention of continuing it. I only dare to ask you to pray to God for my broken, empty soul. With sincerest affection Aemond

She read his letter several times, choking on her own tears, pressing her lips together to keep from making a sound. She felt hundreds of feelings at once, joy, grief, sympathy, sadness, relief, pain.

Reading his words, she felt as if he had poured his thoughts onto paper for her, let her into his mind, which had remained closed to others, laid himself bare to her.

Although she still felt disappointed, knowing that he was willing to open up to her, that he explained everything to her and apologised made her feel a little better.

She thought that he was now sitting alone in his room, broken and frightened, thinking for certain that she hated him, where in fact he had never seemed closer to her before.

She rose slowly, turning the key quietly in the lock and opened the door, looking around. She closed it behind her and ran barefoot to the other side of the corridor, careful of the bits of wooden floor that always creaked, and knocked on his door, wrapped only in her thin shawl.

She heard Vhagar rise from her place, and then someone's quiet footsteps. The door opened and he was standing in front of her in only his chemise and black trousers with braces, looking at her in disbelief, she noticed that his long white hair was already loose and she felt ashamed at the sight. She swallowed quietly, looking at him uncertainly.

"May I come in?" She whispered and he nodded quickly, leaning out and looking around to see if anyone had seen them, closing the door behind her.

Vhagar ran up to her merrily wagging her tail, wanting to start barking with happiness, but they both hushed her, Mr Targaryen ordering her to lie back in her place by his bed.

They looked at each other uncertainly at last, an uncomfortable, heavy silence around them.

"Have you read my letter?" He asked uncertainly, placing his hands behind him, looking to the side, moving his lower lip anxiously in an involuntary, nervous gesture.

"Yes." She whispered quietly, looking at her fingers, then back at him.

"I won't tell my father about anything." She added, and he looked at her with disbelief mixed with relief. He swallowed loudly, letting the air out quietly.

"Thank you."

They looked at each other in a silence even more awkward than before, having been in private with each other in a closed room for too long to consider it consistent with good manners, even more so when she was in such a negligee.

For some reason, however, she didn't want to leave.

She felt an overpowering shame and warmth at the thought that she wanted to stay by his side.

"If you wish, I can stay by your side tonight so you don't feel so lonely." She whispered quietly and it was only when these words, in her mind innocent, left her lips that she realised how ambiguous they sounded.

She saw his pupil dilate; he was looking at her with his lips slightly parted. She was sure he would answer her that it was inappropriate and thank her for her concern, but he said something completely different.

"If anyone catches us, you'll have to become my wife. You know that, don't you?" He asked lowly, and she felt heat between her thighs and some kind of pulsing, her cheeks flushed.

She thought he was just teasing her, that he would never propose to her.

"Hmm." He hummed under his breath as he approached her slowly, extending his hand to her. She grasped it tentatively and he led her to his bed.

She could feel her heart pounding, how inappropriate what they were doing now was, but all she wanted was to be by his side on this difficult day, she herself not wanting to be alone after what she had found out, which she could not share with any one else.

She lay down on the edge of the bed, sliding under the sheets, lying with her back to him, looking towards the window, seeing the clear shape of a crescent moon and stars.

She swallowed hard and shuddered when she felt him lay down behind her.

He did not touch her.

His warm breath was wrapping around her neck, making goosebumps run down her spine, something inside her clenched pleasurably again, she felt her whole body tense up.

What was happening to her?

She pressed her fingers against the fabric of the sheet, clenching her thighs and rubbing them against each other. She drew in the air with difficulty when she felt how her movement made a wave of pleasure pass through her, some kind of sticky wetness running down her skin.

She wasn't sure if she would be able to fall asleep.

She shuddered when she heard him twist behind her and grunt quietly, sensing for certain that she was awake.

"Can't you fall asleep?" He whispered, though they both knew that those few minutes were too soon for either of them to fall asleep, even more so in these conditions.

She swallowed quietly, gathering her courage and turned onto her back, turning her gaze towards him, surprise painted on his face that she dared to move so close to him.

"I think I should go back to my room after all." She said quietly, softly, fiddling with the string from the tying of her nightgown in a nervous gesture. She saw him looking at her intensely and swallowed hard before he managed to force anything out.

"Why?" He asked uncertainly and she felt heat spreading through her body, she had the feeling that her cheeks were burning. They stared at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily through their noses, as if they had just run somewhere very fast.

"I feel uncomfortable. I'm tense and I'm warm." She said embarrassedly, lowering her gaze, clenching her thighs once more, feeling something inside her pulse again as she said this.

She saw his gaze escape greedily downwards feeling her move under the sheets, saw his lips part slightly. When his gaze returned to her face he was looking at her in a way that sent shivers through her.

It seemed to her that his iris was completely black.

"Where?" He asked in a strangely determined, sharp manner in which there was no aggression but some kind of excitement, through which her chest rose and fell rapidly, she clenched her fingers in her palms, unable to look away from him.

"What do you ask, sir?" She muttered in a trembling, uncertain voice, feeling as if her heart would leap out of her chest, the place between her thighs pulsed and clenched, strangely hot and wet, she even felt a kind of discomfort and pain.

He was silent for a long moment, just looking at her as if he was fighting with himself, knowing that what he would say would be less than appropriate.

"I'm asking about where you feel tense." He whispered, squeezing his lower lip involuntarily as he said the words, they stared at each other with wide eyes, no longer breathing through their noses, but through their mouths.

She furrowed her eyebrows as if in worry, blinking rapidly, the feeling between her legs seemed unbearable to her. She thought she shouldn't tell him about it, but some strange feminine conviction told her that he knew perfectly well what was happening to her and that was what excited him the most.

She realised that she had never known such a feeling before, it was only his closeness that affected her in this way. However, she didn't know why this was happening or what to do to feel relief.

"Down. It's like a tickle." She mumbled out with difficulty, embarrassed, lowering her gaze as she felt a shudder run through his whole body, fingers of his hand that lay next to her began to rub against each other in an anxious, impatient gesture.

"It tickles you very much?" He asked in a strangely weak, quiet, hoarse voice from which a shiver went through her whole body, her thighs clenched tightly, she could feel the wet stain on her nightgown under her buttocks. She only nodded her head, helpless, feeling that she was about to cry.

She heard him swallow his saliva loudly.

"Do you want me to show you how you can relieve yourself?" He asked in a trembling voice so quietly that she barely heard him. She drew in the air loudly, not daring to look at him, she was so hot she could feel droplets of sweat running down her back, her heart was beating so hard she had a feeling he could hear it.

"How would you show it to me?" She choked out with difficulty, heard the quiet click of his tongue as he licked his lips, not taking his eyes off her.

"I would direct your hand. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's natural." He whispered, as if trying to convince not only her but himself that this inopportune, ambiguous conversation should be happening at all.

She breathed loudly through her mouth, undecided, wanting it and at the same time wondering if she should just run away. She recognised, however, that even if she ran away the feeling between her thighs would remain and she wouldn't know what to do with it. She thought that if he was merely to guide her own hand, to help her like a true friend, then perhaps there was nothing wrong with that.

She nodded her head.

She heard him sigh loudly in disbelief, his large, trembling hand lifted and placed on her own. For a moment he just stroked her warm skin with his thumb, as if to reassure her.

"If you feel uncomfortable, say so, and we'll stop. All right?" He asked in a trembling, low voice, moving a little closer to her, and she just nodded quickly, unable to look at his face, all red with embarrassment.

She had the feeling that her mind was foggy, that she wasn't thinking soberly, the only thing she was able to focus on was that unbearable tension between her legs.

They both drew in a loud breath as his hand slid down a little, pulling the material of her nightdress up so that her naked body was touching the bedclothes. She could feel it, however they were both covered by the duvet and could not see anything, so she did not feel completely exposed and tried to reassure herself with this thought.

She swallowed loudly when she felt his hand on hers again, this time he lifted her with a soft, respectful movement and together with his he slid her lower and lower until she reached her place of suffering.

As they both felt how hot and wet she was they let out a pathetic, high-pitched sigh on the verge of a moan, she felt his quick breath on her face, involuntarily his nose pressed against her hot cheek, and she pressed her temple against his forehead, seeking protection, help, safety.

Neither of them said anything when his fingers sank her hand into her own juices, intertwined their fingertips so that his skin ran over them too, a low moan came from his throat, as if what they were doing was causing him as much pain as it was causing her.

She began to breathe faster and faster and closed her eyes as, with each, circular movement he forced her fingers to make, trailing them around the spot from which the waves of pleasure were passing through her, her insides pulsed more and more, her heart pounding so fast she felt like she was about to die.

It wasn't until he hushed her, running his nose along her cheek that she realised that a quiet, helpless whines had begun to come from her mouth, her thighs spread apart in some natural reflex, her body arching backwards and pushing against their entwined hands with every shiver of heat that flowed through her as he teased her pearl again.

"− I − I can't −" She mewled helplessly as she felt the tickling between her legs become unbearable, she felt like her whole body was on fire, her hips began to move to the movements of their fingers, searching for any source of more intense rubbing. She moaned in surprise when she felt his lips on her neck, placing shameless, slow, wet kisses on her skin.

"− just a moment longer − hold on − shhh −" He whispered and she felt his words, the touch of his lips between her legs, felt something approaching, that something was about to happen to her, she pulled her hand away from his and pressed his fingers to her womanhood, wanting to feel him, him, him.

They both stifled surprised, excited moans, his kisses on her neck increasingly pawsome, he sucked her skin between his lips, leaving sticky, wet marks on her, she held her hand on his wrist as his fingers massaged her with a sure, intense motion with the loud, embarrassing click of her moisture.

"− please − oh, God −" Broke out from her mouth like a plea as she furrowed her eyebrows, feeling something like pain from the tension, and then suddenly came complete relief and relaxation, a hot, tickling pleasure she hadn't known before in her life spilled over her insides, shaking her body, her mouth open wide in a sigh of relief and bliss, his fingers carried her through her elation with slow, steady movements.

"− that's it −" He praised her, kissing her higher and higher, his lips clinging to her jaw just below her ear. "− that's it −"

She felt as if she had suddenly become lighter, her body soft and numb, her walls pulsing pleasurably, slower and slower, until her breathing had calmed completely. She felt his hand from between her thighs lay on her womb.

She opened her eyes, as if suddenly brought back to reality, hearing only his loud, anxious breathing against her ear. She turned her face towards him and felt herself shudder when she met his gaze so close to hers, something in his eyes that made her hot.

Desire.

Before she had time to say or do anything his mouth was already on hers, throbbing, thirsty, swollen, wet, her fingers tightening on his hair, letting him slide his tongue deep down her throat.

She had a feeling that this one kiss was more lewd than anything they had done a moment ago.

They pulled away from each other, looking at each other in horror, as if only now realising what had happened between them. Only then did what they had known all along come over them like a blade cut.

Overpowering shame.

She pulled herself together suddenly, adjusting her chemise, breathing hard, she saw him rise quickly to sit down, looking at her with parted lips, terrified.

He was afraid she would tell her father about what they had done.

"I will not tell anyone about this. Please, forgive me, sir −"

"− I −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− but I'm afraid we can no longer be friends." She mumbled out and literally ran out of his room with tears in her eyes, opening her door and locking it behind her, turning it with the key.

She laid down on her bed and began to cry loudly, terrified and shaken, hugging her face into her pillow, only now understanding what she had done and what consequences it might have.

She felt like a sinner and a harlot, a shameless empty girl from whom God and the whole world would now turn away.

She knew that from now on she would be cursed and stigmatised.

That if anyone found out about this, no self-respecting man would ever want her as his wife.

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep1 Musings - LDPDL smdh

My daughter Claudia is NOT. PLAYING. AROUND.

I had to giggle here, cuz it just reminded me of what she said in S1:

Claudia will drag Lestat AND Louis each and every chance she gets, bless! 😂

Aaaaaaaand the racists. 😒 Eat ALL of these mofos, YAAAAAS~!

I am SCREAMING at the cinematic poetry--Louis is talking about not burning Lestat, as Lou & Claud can't get warm enough at a fire where they're burning the dead Soviets they just ate.

While Claudia sits there giving Lou the cold shoulder & the silent treatment, icing him out so Louis only talks to himself--I HOLLERED.

My daughter KNOWS!!! DRAG HIM, CLAUDIA!! ^0^

But then I cried, cuz WAIT. If Louis is talking to himself, is this also factoring into why he's seeing DreamStat? Cuz Lou's also desperate for connection, which he can't get from Claudia anymore either! 😭

Louis said DreamStat "came by invitation," as a colorful & vibrant "distraction" (read: comfort) from the dull monochromatic grey Eastern European land. But Lestat is bloodsplattered & filthy just like everyone else.

The question of his guilty conscience: what does Lestat feel/think about Louis? And what is Louis projecting?

That's all Louis wants to hear--that Les misses him and forgives him.

"I'm glad it was you...a la fin." We still need confirmation that Lou slit Les's throat, not Claudia. Cuz this will also point to how much Lou is lying to himself about how betrayed Lestat really felt--that his death would be better by Lou's hands than Claudia's. Is Lou making himself feel better by giving Les the coup de gras, and thinking Les is grateful to him for it?

Cuz he's clearly scared to death that WHEN--not IF--they reunite, Les will be pissed and hate/kill him.

Cuz Lestat's love was what kept Louis alive--Lestat loving Louis saved/damned Louis' life. (The Merrick of it all, istg.)

So it's WILD that Louis thinks this. That the split second Louis finds happiness, the boogeyman Lestat will come and kill him, or take it from him--or just be there as a hallucination constantly reminding Louis of what he left behind.

As an aside:

It was a BAT--that's cute! XD

Louis in denial as he tells himself choosing Claudia over Lestat was worth it. And Dream!Stat chanting "I do" like frikkin wedding vows, then choking on the words/vows as a vampire bat claws out of his throat--I CANNOT with this show anymore.

This is interesting--the 7000 people he killed in Eastern Europe were a necessary evil--Lou calls them "souls," when Les called them "the Meat" and Claudia called them "Kill Juice." And in Paris he only kills once every other day. They ALL feel like murder to Louis. But Louis KNOWS he never killed Lestat!

He put Lestat in the dump the same way Grace put his name on that tombstone--it's the DISTANCE that's killing them.

It's separation & absence, which they HOPE will make the heart grow colder--when we all know that's not how the saying actually goes.

So who are you REALLY fooling, Louis? Cuz it for sure ain't Claudia!

She said "you slow us down!" 💀 But Louis warned you: "I can barely speak French and English. I'd just hold you back.... You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away." If only they'd've BOTH remembered that bit once they got to PARIS. 💀💀💀

This dude, I swear. No wonder he never joined the Theatre; he can't lie for ish! 😅

And I OOP! 👀

By the end of the episode we get Louis' BEAUTIFUL "You and Me" monologue to Claudia, and she finally accepts his apology and promise that he won't kill himself like Draciana did.

MERRICK COME THROUGH! 😭

Which nearly made me cry when you finally see DREAM!LESTAT SITTING RIGHT THERE. 😭 Who is Louis REALLY talking to!?

As he always does when in denial & running from his problems (all the way to effing Romania, ffs), alcoholic!Louis "runs to the bottle and to bad beds."

I REFUSE.

I CANNOT.

I SHAN'T.

Louis, if you don't stop right this moment ISTG! 😭😭

I love this effing show, omg what a great start to the season!

[ambi-kiko]

tma music tma music tma music

please reblog with your own! i need it (:

also im more than willing to elaborate on any of em, just ask! (i have much to yell about)

for bitchard, we have:

kiss me, son of god (they might be giants)

i'm gonna win (rob cantor)

blood & money (the orion experience, orion, linda XO)

ruler of everything (tally hall)

BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA (will wood)

community gardens (the scary jokes, louie zong)

the main character (will wood)

your body, my temple (will wood)

laplace's angel (hurt people? hurt people!) (will wood)

saint bernard (lincoln)

welcome to the internet (bo burnham)

all eyes on me (or3o)

my ordinary life (the living tombstone)

cabinet man (lemon demon)

peter x elias (for my frenchies out there <33)

marine marchande (les cowboys fringants)

ok dont judge me too much i had to have smth for them ((: plus its not that unrelated

next! martin

a better son/daughter (rilo kiley)

12 feet deep (the front bottoms)

things to do (alex g)

be nice to me (the front bottoms)

step on me (the cardigans)

heart for brains (roar)

mama (my chemical romance)

summer child (conan gray)

hello my old heart (the oh hellos)

i cant handle change (roar)

against the kitchen floor (will wood)

least favorite only child (leanna firestone)

sharpener (cavetown)

empty bed (cavetown)

life's a beach (bears in trees)

jmart ((:

no children (the mountain goats)

the moon will sing (the crane wives)

euthanasia (will wood)

as the world caves in (matt maltese)

the truth (the front bottoms)

balade à toronto (jean leloup)

doctor (jack stauber)

apocalypse (cigarettes after sex)

talk to you (ricky Montgomery)

cabo (ricky montgomery)

meteor shower (cavetown)

juliet (cavetown)

feel better (penelope scott)

would you be so kind (dodie)

two birds (regina spektor)

line without a hook (ricky Montgomery)

and jon, ofc <3 i rly dont have enough for him ):

body terror song (AJJ)

downhill (Lincoln)

montreal (penelope scott)

ramblings of a lunatic (bears in trees)

its called: freefall (rainbow kitten surprise)

chin music for the unsuspecting hero (foster the people)

love, me normally (will wood)

dinner is not over (jack stauber's micropop)

also melanie! dont have that many but she deserves the mention (:

saturn suv (fredo disco)

brave as a noun (AJJ)

tongues & teeth (the crane wives)

wreaking ball (mother mother)

we fell in love in october (girl in red)

and just random songs with tma vibes (other characters, ships, dread powers, etc)

underground (cody fry)

hand me my shovel, i'm going in! (will wood)

terry's taxidermy (teddy hyde)

cotard's solution (will wood and the tapeworms)

amnesia was her name (lemon demon)

memento mori: the most important thing in life is death (will wood)

skeleton appreciation day in vestal, n.y. (will wood)

icicles (the scary jokes)

puppet boy (devo)

oh ana (mother mother)

i dont smoke (mitski)

choke (I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME)

thermodynamic lawyer esq, G.F.D (will wood and the tapeworms)

sorry haha i fell asleep (egg)

despair (leo)

stuff is way (they might be giants)

baby teeth (baby bugs)

king park (la dispute)

i/me/myself (will wood)

dr. sunshine is dead (will wood and the tapeworms)

amygdala's rag doll (ghost and pals)

little pistol (mother mother)

burning pile (mother mother)

this is home (cavetown)

body (mother mother)

turn the lights off (tally hall)

like real people do (hozier)

im going insane

[gojo-enthusiast]

The King & His Curses — Chapter Two: 10 Years

18+ | Dark Content | R

masterlist

previous chapter

After that day, something inside of Sukuna changed, he began evolving turning into something monstrous, he killed himself, and when he awoke, he was something far greater than he could ever imagine, he stood there, 7’3, four arms, and curse energy that was far greater than any curse that walked this planet. Despite his death, he remembered everything from his life as a mere human, and as he evolved, he became evil in every way possible, the once small town you both lived in, became his estate, he murdered every man that was not worthy enough to serve as anything, and kept women as his servants. Your father, was the only man he let live in the town after taking over, Sukuna went from town to town, cities, and burned them to the ground, his power manifested more and more each day. Uraume, his trusted friend, ending up being his right hand person, finding their cursed technique, and keeping the estate in line.

It had been 10 years since your death, and Sukuna had become the strongest amongst the strongest. He was cold hearted, angry, he was filled with nothing but wickedness, and spent the last 10 years in a war. On the anniversary of your death, he would sit at your grave, behind the little cottage he had built you, his estate was built a mile down, so he would walk over to where your body was laid to rest, and he spent the day laying there, talking to you. Your father lived in the house now, taking the second bedroom, while the master bedroom had been untouched for 10 years.

Ryo the cat you raised, was still alive, 14 years old, he was old, but he was still chasing mice, and would curl up at your grave and meow. “Shoo.” Sukuna said, as the cat purred and rubbed its body on its adopted father. Ryo meowed, as Sukuna picked him up, and rubbed his head. “I wish to spend time with my wife, go on.” He said, as he put the cat down, and sitting in front of your tombstone.

“I burned down a village yesterday, I know you wouldn’t be so happy about it… hmm.” He said softly, his top two arms dusted off the tombstone, and the other two were in his lap. “I always let the women and their children free, and if they wish to serve me, I let them.” He added. “I watched a man try to rape his wife, and so I burned the entire village down, every man was burned to ashes. Uraume made sure the women and children fled before then. I guess that’s how I atone for my sins, isn't it?” He muttered.

“You just missed Yuuji.” Your dad said, as he stood on the porch, he was in his early 60’s now. He didn’t see Sukuna much, only on your birthday, wedding anniversary, and the day you died, he was always taken back at Sukuna’s appearance. “He’s a brat, he only tries to stop me from my plans for the world.” Sukuna scoffed. “Is that a bad thing?” Your dad chuckled, as he sat down on the rocking chair. “Yes it is.” He replied, “That’s why you sit here all day, repenting to your wife, because she is the only God you believe in, and by her forgiveness, you are saved.” Your dad added. Sukuna looked at your grave, running his bottom arms in the grass. “Don’t complain, I have given you a life of luxury haven’t I?” Sukuna rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I have ever wished for son.” Your dad sighed. “I wished for my daughter to be running around barefoot in the fields here, as you watched her dance around, with a baby on her hip, and a baby on the way, you would have 2 arms, and not burning towns down, out of anger.” He sighed once again.

“She will come back, I feel it.” Your dad said, as he stood up, and walked back in the house. Sukuna lied there on your grave until the next day, feeling the sun slowly rise, he felt a soft hand on his face, as his eyes fluttered open, there you were.

Sukuna believed deeply he was dreaming, he kept his eyes opening, thinking this was all in his mind. “I wish to never wake up, if it means I get to see you again.” He mumbled. “But it isn’t a dream my love.” You smiled brightly, as you rubbed his cheek, and peppered kisses on his face. As Sukuna felt the kisses of his wife, he realized this wasn’t like his normal dreams, he was feeling your lips, he was hearing your voice, the voice he had long forgotten, he raised himself up, so he was sitting up. “Y/n?” He rubbed at his eyes, not comprehending. “Oh Suku.” You smiled, as you sat on his lap. He looked at your body, seeing the wedding dress he buried you in, you looked clean, you looked like you were glowing. It finally hit him that you were right in front of him, you were alive, you were breathing. He stood up, as you wobbled off of him, he was taken back, staring at you.

“What are you?” He asked, distancing himself from you. “Your wife.” You smiled, walking up to him. “H-how?” He stuttered, the King of Curses was beyond himself, he could not understand anything that was happening to him. “God gave me life again, I have been watching over you for all this time, and I served God and gave him everything I had to offer, so I could come down here, and be here once again with you.” You reached out to touch his hand. He pulled them away, looking at you in horror. “You can’t be here.” He got cold, his eyes red. You tilted your head, “Why? I was granted a wish, and I chose to be here.” You said as your face frowned. “No, you must go back.” He said waving you off. “You can not see me this way, you must go.” He said as he turned around and was walking away. “Sukuna.” You said softly, running up to him, and wrapping your arms from behind. He stood as still as a statue, he felt his limbs shake, and his eyes blaze with hot tears, you kissed the middle of his back, rubbing your cheek on his spine. “I missed you so much Suku, I missed my husband, don’t leave me now, after I just got you back.” You whimpered into his back, he felt the thick tears fall down his back. He turned around, staring down at you.

“I’m not a good man anymore, that Sukuna is gone.” He turned his head away. “No he isn’t, he’s right here, he just looks a little different that’s all.” You smiled, as you gestured for him to bring his face down, and he did, because he was your loyal subject, you patted his cheek, and kissed him.

“You are my husband, you will always be good in my eyes.”

Eventually this series will be a different one shots but the same story, I just really want everyone to understand the beginning first and why Sukuna is the way he is :)

next chapter

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - preview.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love <3

content: smut, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes. 

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

[seamayweed]

In Defense of Lady Kang/Queen Sindeok (1/3)

As promised, here's the first part of my defense of Queen Sindeok, explaining her historical political situation + clearing up some common fandom misconceptions about her, which I don't blame anyone for since they originate from the show itself. I must admit that I have a bit of a soft spot for her since history generally tends to be unkind to women - this extends to modern media and MCTNA is no exception:

(more under the cut)

Before we start, I thought I'd give a small refresher on the Yi family constellation - crucial for setting up the conflict and crown prince issue - with the aid of this extremely useful graphic by bodashiri (excluding the daughters for simplicity's sake):

(From here: x)

As you can see, Yi Seong-gye (King Taejo of Joseon) had two wives:

His first wife Lady Han (Queen Sinui) gave birth to six sons: 1. Yi Bang-woo (Prince Jinan), 2. Yi Bang-gwa (Prince Youngan), 3. Yi Bang-ui (Prince Yikan), 4. Yi Bang-gan (Prince Hoean), 5. Yi Bang-won (Prince Jeongan) and 6. Yi Bang-yeon (Prince Deokan).

His second wife Lady Kang (Queen Sindeok) gave birth to two sons: 7. Yi Bang-beon (Prince Muan) and 8. Yi Bang-seok (Prince Uian),

meaning that Seong-gye had eight sons overall.

With that out of the way, let's get started!!!

1. Queen Sindeok was NOT a concubine

(From here: x)

She is referred to as Yi Seong-gye/King Taejo's capital/Seoul wife in the show too:

However, every time Bang-won calls her a concubine and her children illegitimate there is never any pushback or correction by anyone, not even when he calls her younger son Bang-seok/Prince Uian a ‘seoja’ (illegitimate child born to a commoner concubine or royal concubine) in front of Seon-ho:

You'd think Seon-ho would defend Bang-seok by correcting Bang-won... but nope. Nada.

Not even Queen Sindeok (!!!) is allowed to defend herself and her children when they get accused of the same:

Like, what is this madness!!!

Anyone who doesn't know about Korean history would never even SUSPECT that this isn’t actually true, and that Queen Sindeok is in fact a legitimate second wife and queen. By giving no pushback to the (false) claims of illegitimacy, the show seems to implicitly support Bang-won’s narrative of her being a lying, conniving, greedy bitch who wants to push her child on the throne despite having no right to it whatsoever as a concubine and bastard respectively.

Queen Sindeok's tragedy, the one that MCTNA fails to portray, is not that she was a concubine who tried to rise above her station (because she was not); it's that, due to the transition from Goryeo to Joseon, she found herself caught between two conflicting sets of laws:

(From Tombstones without a Tomb by Hildi Kang)

A queen while alive, and unjustly demoted to a concubine in death by Bang-won/King Taejong who used these legal changes and the new Confucian ruling to his advantage, her status was a matter of contention for scholars and kings alike for almost 300 years, until finally, in 1669, the scholar Song Si-yeol managed to amass enough people and put enough pressure on King Hyeonjong to make him give in to their demands and restore Queen Sindeok to her rightful status and honor as queen.

+ Bonus:

(From Tombstones without a Tomb by Hildi Kang)

Turns out that according to the new Confucian ruling, Bang-won himself should have been considered illegitimate too!! Surprise!!!