#I truly believe if he had lived and was just a flat out part of the final season

[catharusustulatus]

My Eddie Munson analysis, with points that have already been made, but that I’ll say again:

He was probably not intended to be as popular as he became, hence his death. The Duffers and co obviously regret their decision; cue the kajillion posts, teases, and merch pieces coming out about him. They fucked up by killing him, and they know it. Will he come back? I have no idea.

Joseph was the one who made Eddie as great as he is. He helped shape the character and he gave him the depth and personality (mannerisms, rings, eye fucking Steve in all scenes, other choices, ad libs, etc) that we love him for.

To me, Eddie as a character IS a plot device. He was written to mature the party boys, specifically Dustin. He was written to die, so that Steve could live. He was written to subvert expectations, like with Chrissy, which makes you care about him.

He was also written to confirm the re-significance of Stancy, with his explicit “get her back” comments in the UD. This fascinates me because he barely knows these people, let alone what’s going on in their relationship. Why would he feel compelled to say what he said, unless he’s being used as a narrative tool to push Stancy to the forefront? I am into Stancy too personally but like, lol, who told him about what was going on? Did Robin take 5 minutes to be like “hey Eddie btw if Steve and Nancy seem awkward around each other, it’s because they used to date but she broke up with him and he never really got over her and her long distance bf has been incommunicado so I feel like there might be a chance they rekindle their love” like I guess it happened off screen! Did Dustin tell him? And while I wish we’d seen a conversation so it would make more sense why he’s saying that, we didn’t need it, because HE doesn’t exist that deeply on the page. His comment was to further someone else’s plot, not his own. (I personally also love the headcanon that he said all of that to Steve because he was crushing on Steve and was deflecting).

I have no idea what the costume and hair and makeup departments were doing when they developed his final looks, but that boy is queer. The bandana alone, I immediately thought he was going to be the first gay character in the show in s4e1. In his introductory monologue he mentions sodomy, I mean….

Lastly, everyone has already said this, but his death. Are you kidding me? It’s not just that he was another one season semi filler character that’s introduced, who you fall in love with, who dies. It’s the fact that he died so savagely, in what felt like a nonsensical way. It felt almost taunting, like here’s this symbol of what it means to be different and let’s kill him! Get it, he didn’t run away this time! Booooo 🍅🍅 that’s bad writing. He didn’t zip up his jacket! Why? He was written to make all the wrong decisions, because they so thoroughly wanted him to die, almost like his death is an important part of his character.

Whether or not he’s Kas, just haunts Dustin the way Billy haunted Max, or something in between, if he isn’t shown at all in season 5, after all the hubbub about him, I will riot.

[ellecdc]

okay then consider this a request!! for poly!marauders or just remus/james/sirius, whatever you prefer, for a reader with excruciating period cramps (self-indulgent because mine are horrible, but whatever!!) if you could do it that would be awesome ily!

ok I'm sorry I really made this very much self indulgent in maybe the worst way ever lol. I've been having a lot of fun with chef!Sirius lately, and had briefly discussed this idea with @maladaptiveescapism a while back so it felt fitting. I've also gotten a lot of period fic requests before and have never been all that interested in them which is so strange seeing as I'm a person who experiences period's and they're really popular? WOW sorry, what a tangent. TL;DR, thanks for your request, sorry if I ruined it a little, I probably won't ever write a period fic again lol

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who calls in sick to work because of her period [2.9k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: period fic, reader has PCOS, brief allusion to Sirius' shitty childhood, trans!Reggie agenda 'cause I can, Sirius worried reader won't be accepting of his trans brother (spoiler alert, we are because we love our trans homies), Sirius being the worst (positive & affectionate)

Sirius was on his best behaviour today.

Honest to god, hand to his heart, best behaviour.

But there was truly only so much one bloke could do when they had a Jeffery to deal with.

“I’m going to need one of your staff for the evening.” Jeffery said without preamble; standing half-in the kitchen with the swinging door to the floor propped open as if he wanted to ensure there were witnesses to this conversation should it go sideways.

“Jeffery, do you wake up every morning and smoke a bunch of crack before you come to work, or are you really just this dense?” Sirius spat as he dropped his pan in front of him and fought the urge to turn and give the floor manager a withering glare. 

Jeffery, well seasoned to Sirius’ theatrics, bit back an eye roll as he carried on. “We need someone to cover the bar.”

Sirius did turn at that, but his withering glare fell somewhere between aghast and bemused. “The bar?”

“The bar.”

“Why?”

“I need coverage for Y/N.” Jeffery explained with a sigh, clearly growing tired of Sirius’ line of questioning.

“Where is she?”

“She has called in sick, chef.”

“Sick with what?” Sirius continued, causing Jeffery’s brows to furrow as he stared at Sirius bemusedly. 

“I’m not exactly privy to those details, chef.” He explained slowly as if Sirius were some fussy toddler. 

“I just find it hard to believe that the same woman who left the hospital after getting her shoulder reset to come work a full eight hour shift would call in sick.”

Jeffery offered him a shoulder shrug (and a concerned look up and down that Sirius pretended he didn’t notice) before pilfering one of the kitchen staff for the evening. 

Sirius would worry about hating Jeffery later; he was more focused on figuring out what the hell was wrong with you and why you weren’t coming to see him to work. 

Sirius had his phone wedged between the side of his face and his shoulder whilst he juggled the many go-bags he had in his hands as he stood awkwardly outside of the door to your flat.

He admittedly knew where you lived only because he had driven you home after numerous closing shifts.

Fortunately, the intercom system in the anteroom of your building gave away your unit number.

Unfortunately, Sirius still had his hands full with the various go-bags.

Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming in at the same time and let Sirius into the building. 

Unfortunately, she insisted on chatting his ear off the whole lift ride up and actually held the door open to continue conversing even after they had arrived at her floor.

Sirius’ saving grace came in the form of the lift alarm buzzing for having kept the door ajar too long, and she was forced to bid him farewell. 

Which brought him here; standing outside of your flat like some kind of stalker as he waited for you to pick up your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, open your door.”

“Well hello to you too, chef.” You snarked at him again. 

“Yes, yes. I said hey, didn’t I? Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing on the other side of it.” 

There was the sound of a quick exhale and rummaging. “Why?”

“Listen, I’d love to play 20 questions, but do you think you could let me in first?”

You muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a swear before the line ended.

He allowed his phone to slip out of its place and into his awaiting hand when you flung the door open unceremoniously.

Now, Sirius could tell you’d not been expecting any company today; you were in the same clothes you’d likely slept in, your hair was perfectly rumpled from whatever position Sirius had just disturbed you from, and you looked more than a tad embarrassed to see him standing here.

He had sort of hoped you would look like a troll; make this raging flame he carried for you burn a little softer.

But no.

You just had to look ethereal and perfect and lovely and kissable.

Damn woman. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, interrupting the both of you from staring at one another. 

“Helping?”

You made a breathy W sound - as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” but the words died on your lips as you took in Sirius’ many bags. 

“What did you bring?”

“I’ll show you everything if you just let me in.” He muttered as he motioned towards one of your nosey neighbours who had shoved her head out of her door when she first heard Sirius in the hall.

You peered around your doorframe and narrowed your eyes at her before allowing Sirius entry. 

“Finally.” Sirius teased as he moved to place his bags on your kitchen island. 

Sirius had never seen the inside of your flat, but if he had simply stumbled into your space by accident he would have known it was yours immediately. 

There was something so intrinsically you about your space that Sirius immediately felt at home too, even just for having stepped inside. 

“Sorry.” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly; bringing one of your hands to the back of your neck as you considered Sirius and all of his bags. “We’d just been watching some shows.”

Sirius immediately felt his heart fall out of his arse.

We? 

Had he read this completely wrong? Were you seeing someone? Was your home not simply yours, but one that you shared?

He found himself suddenly feeling quite defensive over your flat; it was too lovely, too wonderful, too comfortable for simply just anyone to enjoy.

“We?” He asked suddenly; tone taking on a bit of an edge he didn’t intend or consent to.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed behind you with your thumb; Sirius followed your gesture to a little tabby cat perched on the back of your sofa, tilting its head at the two of you as if it, too, was confused by Sirius’ sudden intonation. 

“You were watching shows with your cat?” He clarified; his voice now breathy in relief. 

“Birdie loves shows.” You countered defensively. 

“You named a cat bird?”

“No.” You argued. “I named my kitten Birdie. Do you not like cats?” You asked then, a teasing smirk growing on your face. 

“I like cats fine; where can I put this?” He asked instead; hoping to god you didn’t notice the blush heating up his face. 

He started unloading the many take-away boxes he’d prepared for you at the restaurant before skiving off the rest of his shift.

“What is this?”

“Food.”

“Sirius, why did you-”

“I asked what helped.” Sirius explained. “You said food; I brought food. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet dollface, but food is kind of my thing.”

“Smartass.”

“That too.” He replied with a wink, moving to put the desserts in your fridge. 

“Did you seriously come all the way over here just to bring me food?” You asked disbelievingly as you joined Sirius at the counter and peered into the bags.

Sirius had to tamp down the giddiness that threatened to consume him at how sweet and domestic this felt; you clad in your comfies as you helped him unload groceries. 

“I didn’t come all the way over here just to bring you food…I brought other stuff too.” 

“‘Course you did.” You muttered quietly, looking at Sirius with a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Go lay down.” He ordered instead as he went about plating your food - opening cabinets at random until he found what he was looking for. “I don’t hear laying down!” He sing-songed when he saw you still  standing in his periphery. 

You harrumphed before acquiescing; picking up your cat who made a little brrp sound as if to second Sirius’ directions. 

Finally content with his efforts, he moved to stand in front of you with a glass of water and some pasta he brought from work. 

You made an appreciative hum and sat up, which seemed to displease Birdie greatly. “God, maybe I need to find myself a personal chef.”

“Oi! Don’t go replacing me now.” Sirius scolded as he perched himself on your coffee table - perhaps a little casual for being a first time (uninvited) guest in someone’s home - but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh the job is so yours chef; you’re welcome here anytime.” You said around a mouthful of food. And even though Sirius knew you were joking, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering of his heart at the sentiment. 

“This is really good, Sirius, and super thoughtful; thank you.” You offered earnestly. 

“So I guess you don’t have any room for dessert, then?” He asked teasingly; his taunting smirk melting away immediately at the excitement that took over your face before he ran to retrieve it for you. 

“Why is she doing that?” Sirius asked after a while, gesturing towards Birdie with his chin who was rubbing her head against the leg of his pants.

“Why’s she doing what?” You asked bemusedly as Sirius fought every urge to wipe the little bit of chocolate from your upper lip. Unfortunately thankfully for him, you licked it out of his sight. 

“Head butting me; seems quite rude.” Sirius murmured as he watched the cat in bemusement. 

“That’s basically a cat hug, Sirius; she’s hugging you, or saying hello.” You chuckled at him.

“Get out.” He scoffed in disbelief. 

“Cats have little scent markers in their cheeks; when they rub against something, they’re affectionately claiming it as their own.”

“So like a dog pissing on trees?” He deadpanned.

“Affectionately claiming you as their own; offer her your hand, Sirius.”

“But what if she-”

“Chef, offer her your hand.” You barked at him with no heat. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes challengingly at you but did as he was told; pleasantly surprised when the cat moved the rubbing from his trousers to his hand. 

“Have you never met a cat before?” You asked as you considered him.

“No…I have.” Sirius offered slowly, admittedly enjoying the velvety soft fur of your little companion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You teased as you placed your now empty dish on the side table. 

“My family had a cat growing up; a horrid thing. I swear to god my mum taught him how to attack me. Loved my brother though, but was nasty as all get out to anyone else.” 

“Really? Was he a stray before he lived with you?”

“Nope.” Sirius offered with a pop of the p. “Raised that fucker from kittenhood. Lived a god awful long time too, just to spite me; I wished every year on my birthday that it would die.”

“Sirius!”

“I’m not joking! My brother and I would sneak cupcakes up to my room and he’d light a candle for me and tell me to make a wish. One of them was always ‘please for the love of god let Kreacher die before me’.” He didn’t think now was the time to admit that his other wish was always ‘please for the love of god let us make it out of here alive’. 

“That’s awful; you’re awful.” You laughed. 

“No, Kreacher was awful; I was but a boy.”

“I can’t believe you got after me for naming my cat Birdie when you had a cat named Kreacher.” 

“I didn’t have a cat named Kreacher, my brother did.” He responded haughtily. 

“Who named him?”

“I did.”

“Why?” You laughed again. 

“‘Cause he was a tiny, awful, hateful little gremlin and needed a name that said as much!” 

The two of you laughed until your hands migrated to your abdomen and you began massaging into your skin; a small divot appearing between your brows.

“What is it?” Sirius asked quietly then.

You tried to shake your head and offered him a tight smile. “S’okay.”

“Is it cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“Lie back.” He instructed as he stood from his seat on the coffee table - his mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d seen him with such a lack of manners.

Good.  

“Sirius, really, you’ve-”

“Lie back.” He whispered again, one hand on your shoulder as he gently guided you so that you were lying along your sofa with your head propped up on the armrest.

Stealing himself for perhaps embarrassing himself completely and making this whole precarious situation between the two of you go tits up, he finally shucked off his jacket and boots before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and lowering himself onto the bottom half of your couch.

You watched silently as Sirius situated himself between your legs so that his shoulders and head rested on your abdomen as he weaselled his arms under your back, placing both of his palms up against your lower back.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You’re tense as shit, doll; relax.” He murmured as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

You let out a breath and sank further into the couch as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered after a few moments.

“You already thanked me.” He whispered back.

“No, I-” You cut yourself off as you gathered your thoughts; a tentative hand absentmindedly making itself at home in his hair as you found your words. “Thank you.” You settled on.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius offered.

“Where’d you learn this?”

Sirius propped his chin up so he could at you; your hand pausing as your eyes flit to it as if you were only now realising what you’d been doing. “Learn what?”

“The pressure? The body heat. The…helping, with cramps?” You asked tentatively, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d think you perhaps looked a touch bashful at your questions - your eyes seemingly incapable of meeting his. 

And once again, Sirius found himself taking another jump, or rather, a complete leap of faith that could very well have this thing the two of you had been building crumble and fall before it even had a chance to start.

“Uhm, it was my brother, actually.” He admitted quietly.

Your eyes did finally meet his at that, where they narrowed a touch in confusion.

“You learned this….from your brother?” 

Sirius nodded as he swallowed nervously. “Right. He uhm, well, it often helped him with his cramps and such, so…yeah.” 

It was apparently his turn to be incapable of meeting your eyes as he moved his head so that it was resting against your stomach again.

“You’re a good brother.” You finally offered.

“Well of course I am.” Sirius offered through a breath of relief. “I’m good at everything I do.” 

“You’re a git.”

“I’m good at that too.”

You gave a disciplinary tug at Sirius’ hair which made him think of several sinful things he’d like to be doing with you whilst you did that next time, but he simply chuckled and sank further into you.

“I didn’t exactly sit like this with him, mind you.”

“No? What does that make me, then?”

“Special.” 

“I guess so.” You breathed out through a chuckle. “Coming over on your day off just to spoil me.”

“It wasn’t my day off.” He responded without thinking, tensing when he felt you suck in a breath.

“Sirius.”

“Mhm?” He offered in faux nonchalance.

“You left work for this!?”

“For you?” He asked as he considered you. “Absolutely.”

“For gods sake, Sirius. I bet Jeffery-” 

But he never got to hear what you thought of Jeffery as he let out a very petulant and dramatic groan and lowered his forehead to your stomach. 

“Babe, I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but generally a man does not want to hear the name of another bloke when he’s in between your legs, yeah?”

You barked out a laugh and swatted at his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“Terrible.”

“The worst.”

“Absolutely horrid.”

“Giving Kreacher a run for his money.”

Sirius’ head shot up at that as he levelled you with a warning glare. “Too far.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“You better be.” Sirius grumbled as he lowered himself back down. “Now be a doll and play with my hair again; it’s nap time.”

And there was an equal chance that you were going to laugh, swat at him, or downright tell him to get his arse back to work.

But Sirius was admittedly overjoyed when you simply placed your fingers back into his hair and began to massage until you fell asleep; him not much longer after you.

[ethearecals]

MANIAC

the one where you don't go back to the boys.

part two of the conan gray series

“i wish i were heather” out now!

synopsis: after getting cheated on by your previously expected soulmates, a change in perspective occurs and you find yourself falling for a different set of three.

warnings: foul language, slander on the marauders, sexual innuendos, mentions of smoking, a small taylor

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU ALWAYS WANT BACK WHAT THEY CAN'T HAVE."

Leaving Hogwarts early for Christmas this year was not something anyone could've forshadowed.

You, the girl who spent most of her time studying for her upcoming OWLS in November, had disappeared without a trace.

Of course most of your close friends knew where you were, and some not so close friends did aswell.

"She can't just run away from her problems." Said Sirius, his leg bouncing anxiously from the news Regulus had just sprung onto them.

"Sirius, It'll be fine, okay? When they get back to school, we can formally apologize and move on, right?" Remus attempted to reassure Sirius, but he in reality he felt quite crestfallen.

Lily sat quietly, already regretting her decision to do this with them.

In her head, she knew they had every intention to not cheat and solve things the right way— but she hadn’t helped.

It all started one night at a loud and ear-shattering Gryffindor victory party after a successful win for their Quidditch team.

She got drunk, and they were completely wasted.

And you weren’t there.

So their drunken minds believed it would be a missed opportunity if they didn’t take their chance with Gryffindors golden girl.

Lily knew she should’ve said no, she should’ve gone back to her dorm and hid from them for the rest of eternity.

But fate clearly had other plans.

And after secrets, longing stares, and lingering touches that the truth finally came to light.

and it was all at your expense.

“So— When will our Reggie be joining us, Meadowes?” Evan slurred, his voice carrying a heavily intoxicated tone.

“Soon enough, he’s got one more OWL to complete and then he’s on his way.” Dorcas mused as she gently pet the head of her tipsy sleepy Gryffindor girlfriends head as she babbled on about Quidditch.

Evan nodded drunkenly— before taking another swig.

Dorcas seemed so peaceful with Marlene— who had surprisingly accepted her invitation to spend Christmas with the Slytherins, though Marlene truly wasn’t prejudice against them like others were.

They seemed so… in love.

You had love once.

Remember?

They’re gone.

Remember?

They’re gone.

“I— I had love… once—“ You hiccuped sadly, beginning to sob for the umpteenth time this evening.

You were extremely drunk, who could really blame you?

“Aww… Treasure…” Barty (who surprisingly was very sober) cooed, encapsulating you in a bear hug as you cried into his chest.

“How many more times is she going to do that?” Asked Peter, who— by the way: lied to his friends and said he was going home for Christmas.

He was only visiting for the night, as he was currently visiting his girlfriend— Sybil Trelawney who lived in town.

“Who knows, Pete. Who knows..” Evan slung his arm around him.

“This should be the last time before she realizes that she doesn’t need them, that’s what the sprites are telling me.” Pandora smiled, petting your hair gently in comfort.

“Pettigrew, you should turn back to your rat-pack and tell them they’re trash.”

You spat, in broken sighs.

Obviously, Peter felt a bit of offense to the rat slander but alas— they weren’t aware of his rat-secret.

Quite a shame.

“Sure thing, L/N.”

'FEELS LIKE WE HAD MATCHING WOUNDS BUT MINES STILL BLACK AND BRUISED.'

on December 19th, Regulus had finally arrived at Barty's flat he'd rented for the holidays.

Marlene, Dorcas, and Peter had their departure just the day before, leaving just you, Pandora, Evan, Barty, and Regulus.

Pandora had just wished you all goodnights and dream blessings before nodding off to your shared room for your stay.

"So, anyone up for some firewhiskey?" Offered Evan, who held a giant bottle of the substance.

"Just a small bit, Rosie." Barty accepted his offer graciously.

"Need anything, amour?" Regulus mused in your ear, by far he was the most comforting one. As the other two just distracted you with their own twisted ways of thinking and chaos.

"I'm alright, Reggie. Thank you." You nodded politely, you had felt incredibly off this break.

Though they all weren't stupid, they knew why you were acting strange.

Every year since third year; You and the boys would leave Hogwarts and spend Christmas with the Potters.

Snowball fights, roaring fires, Effie's hot cocoa, the memories echoed through your brain like they were music blasting from your headphones.

Every time you closed your eyes to sleep, you would see endless slideshows of everything you had ever done with them.

The nights of passion, the hugs, the pre and post-quidditch game good luck and good job kisses, the play fights, the happiness.

Your life was black and white before you met them, they brought the color.

But they showed you colors they knew you couldn't see with anyone else.

Well, besides your 'best' friends.

Were you really just that? Just friends?

You were a year younger than the Marauders, same year as Regulus.

and Sirius would be so pissed off if he found out that you were sleeping with his brother-

...

Wait.

Who gives a fuck about Sirius?

Who cares what intelligent insult will come out of Remus' mouth?

And James, he liked Regulus once.

They'd hate you.

But,

Maybe you wanted them too.

So, you ended up taking a few shots of firewhiskey.

Okay,

More than a few.

"Um- actually, Reggie. I- I do need something." You slurred, holding onto your sober ex-boyfriends brother best friends nimble shoulders like he was your lifeline.

"Yes, amour?"

"I want a kiss."

Evan spat out his drink back into his cup, and Regulus' face heated up significantly.

"I'll give you a kiss..." Barty clambered over his boyfriends as his cold, veiny hands meet your waist.

His hands skim your body up and down, before pecking your lips softly, as if he was asking for acceptance.

"Can I kiss you?" Barty spoke so softly, he may have been chaotic and insane- but he was extremely cautious and respectable with things like this.

"I-I wanna taste you so bad.." Evan cooed at Barty's sweet words, as he held an extremely flustered Regulus in his arms, watching the scene in front of him unfold.

"Barty- please, kiss me." You mewled, barely finishing your sentence as he dived into your lips.

His lips surprisingly tasted like cherry chapstick, even though he had just been chugging firewhiskey.

After feeling like an eternity, Barty broke your kiss.

"I've wanted to do that since fourth year." He mumbled drunkenly, gazing up stupidly and lovingly at your blush-kissed face.

His kisses were heavenly, and so were Evan's, and Regulus'.

And needless to say, you didn't return back to Pandora that night.

'YOU'RE POINTING AT THE STARS IN THE SKY THAT ALREADY DIED.'

The return to Hogwarts was an awkward one at that.

But returning back to Hogwarts feeling happier than ever with your boyfriends? That was the best return you could make.

Hand in hand with Barty, you strutted into the Great Hall.

Evan and Regulus trailed behind, as you rambled on and on to Barty about something.

James stared your direction, and you unfortunately met his gaze.

He wasn't dense, he could see how your bright smile seemed to dim.

He smiled, softly.

James knew that they'd never get you back the way they had you.

He should've realized that you were the light of their lives.

Everyone should've woken up to see you.

They hurt you.

And this was their price.

They had to watch you thrive, with three other men.

Who would treat you like a goddess, something they never sought time for.

taglist; @hisparentsgallerryy @cultish-corner @asexualbuthorny @prettylittlewrites @champomiel @hellothere7 @anakinsluvrr @lady-balem @awkwardalie @nosteponduck @eeviee4 @dreamygirli3 @navs-bhat @angemyrtille @mrssslangdon @siillly @makanirock05 @hcqwxrtss123 @wolfyychan @nislame @lalalandincraz @rorywright @ih3artpjo @st4r-girl-official @pain-in-the-ashe

[unitedhamilton]

Luck

Summary: a resolution with flowers on the counter.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: here is part two of Flowers! I would recommend reading that first. Enjoy lovelies 💜

Lewis’ head shot up off the couch pillow when he heard the lock on the front door click. 

He didn’t move when he saw you in the living room doorway. You broke the silence first. 

“I’m going to bed.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Lewis.” 

Then he saw you turn and go up the stairs. 

Lewis dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t believe what the last few hours had turned into. 

~~~~~

Lewis jogged up the steps, slightly out of breath as the Colorado freezing air kicked his ass. A crappy night's sleep and the change from Las Vegas weather had him struggling. 

He opened the door and immediately saw Roscoe camped out on the welcome mat. While bending down to pet the attention seeker, he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You had a mug held to your lips with your phone in the other hand. 

Lewis felt your eyes on him once he stood up. The light still hadn’t returned after a night of sleeping apart. It’s not like he expected anything different. 

“Morning,” you greeted as you set your mug on the counter. You tucked your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. You kept talking, voice flat as it has been and Lewis didn’t like that. “I’m going to the store so if you need anything you can text me.” 

Lewis walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass making his way to the sink to get water. He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Alright, I’m going. See you in a bit,” you said. 

“What store are you going to?” Lewis asked. 

“I haven’t decided yet. Sprouts perhaps. Maybe Trader Joe’s. Whatever I feel like when I get in the car.” 

You started to walk out of the kitchen when Lewis spoke. He really shouldn’t have. He was still pent up from his run and over everything he caused. 

“You’re not going to the store.” 

You froze and slowly turned towards him, eyebrows raised. “We need groceries, Lewis.” 

“No we don’t.” 

“Yes we do.” 

“Nope.” 

“Okay,” you put your hands on the counter, leaning towards Lewis, “the fruit and few vegetables I got yesterday barely feed you so we need groceries.” 

To this, Lewis replied, “I’ll go with you.” 

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. 

“Don’t laugh,” Lewis ground out. 

You both moved simultaneously, Lewis towards you and you towards the door. But, Lewis caught your wrist and pulled you towards him. 

“Don’t laugh at me baby.” 

“Lewis,” you whispered, in shock and maybe even surprise at your sudden closeness. 

He walked you so your back was against the counter. Lewis reached into your back pocket and pulled your phone out placing it next to your hip. 

“Why’d you throw the flowers away?” Lewis rumbled, you didn’t respond, he asked again, “why?” 

“They were dried out.”

“You did that on purpose.” 

“Lew—“ 

“Why?” 

“Just let it go Lewis.” 

He pressed you harder against the counter. “Tell me, honey. Why did the flowers end up in the trash?” 

“They were just flowers.” 

“They weren’t.” 

“You’re right,” you said quietly. “Once you stopped showing up they became just flowers.” 

He dropped his forehead to yours. 

Lewis didn’t mean to hurt you. Truly. You had the best vacation together, something he enjoyed every second of. No work, no responsibilities. Time together that was needed. He did have work he needed to handle when getting home but went about it the wrong way. 

He had to fix what he did. 

“Please let me go Lewis,” you whispered. 

“No.” 

“No? You can’t just say no.” 

He moved his hands from your hips to around your shoulders pulling you into a hug. 

He moved his lips to your ear and whispered, “I hurt you. I messed up and I hurt you.” 

Lewis felt your arms lightly wrap around his waist. He tightened his arms and pressed his temple to your hair. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, baby,” he murmured. 

“Fine Lewis.” 

“Let me in, baby. Let me fix my mistake. I shut you out and I shouldn’t have.” 

He pulled back and saw your hard exterior slowly crumbling. He didn’t let you go but gave you time to speak. 

“We got back from a fabulous time together, Lewis. I would have supported you through whatever you were going through. You know I have supported you and always will,” you said quietly. “What am I supposed to do and think when you aren’t talking to me?” 

Lewis placed a finger on your chin guiding your eyes together. 

“Give me your eyes honey.” Once you locked eyes he continued. “I didn’t want to burden you with everything I was working through. I can’t tell you exactly why I did what I did. I knew it was wrong. I can promise you I won’t do it again.” 

He saw you take a deep breath and sigh. He hoped you weren’t gearing up to keep arguing. 

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Lewis. But I’m not here to be thrown to the side when you’re stressed or whatever,” you flicked your hand off to the side. “I forgive you, but I’m not tolerating it again.” 

Lewis felt the smile creeping onto his face. He heard you laugh quietly. 

“Hug me baby. I’ve missed you.” 

At that, you wrap your arms around his shoulder at the same time he hugs your waist. He missed the feeling of you. All parts of you. 

You pulled back, Lewis not wanting to let you go, but loosening his hold, and seeing the smirk on your face. 

He knew what was coming and braced for the incoming sass. 

“Now, can we go buy groceries or are we going to stand here and starve?” 

Lewis bent his neck and dropped his forehead to yours. 

Then, his eyes locked with yours, he muttered, “Of course honey.” 

“Then get off me and let’s go!” 

“Fine, fine,” he replied, fighting a smile. 

You looked into his eyes for a while. 

Then you yelled, “let’s go Roscoe! You’re daddy stopped being an ass so we’re going as a family.” 

Lewis closed his eyes and laughed. Then he moved and touched his lips to yours. 

Then he let you go and watched as you went to get Roscoe’s collar and leash. With you out of sight, he went to the garbage can and pulled the flowers out. They’d deal with them together after shopping.

[themotherofhorses]

you can pretend it's not meant to be (but you can't stay away from me)

summary: to you, he is fictional. but to him, you are everything and more. he can't live without you. and, really, there is no use in trying to run away, he'll always find you.

pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. noncon to dubcon. abduction. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part. breeding kink. slight spitting kink. pregnancy.

note: hey this is me practicing writing smut because ive never ever done it before and i don't know jackshit like wtf is a dick hahaha im dreading posting this hahahasendhelpplshaha

masterlist | series masterlist

part two | part three | part four | part five

How did you end up here?

That was all you could ask yourself, over and over again.

It had only been hours ago, maybe, that you were sitting at home, rewatching the first season of House of the Dragon for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Perhaps you dozed off on the couch too, but that was it. You have heard of shifting techniques before- ways to visit your favorite fictional worlds- but you never sought to try them out yourself.

College left you too busy with assignments and textbook readings, as well as the constant and unwavering pressure to maintain both your scholarships and high GPA.

Ever the dutiful and driven daughter, hungry for academic validation and success.

Oh, fuck, your scholarships!

Your GPA!

All those assignments and discussions and exams!

And what about your family? Your mother and father? And your best friend?

Aemond Targaryen seems not to understand your words, and why you tell, beg, and plead for him to let you go. “Please, I need to go home,” you cry loudly, while yanking at the thick knots that bound you to his bedframe, “please! My family, my friends. They will be worrying when they don’t hear from me, and all my hard work and accomplishments, it will be for nothing! Please, I beg you, let me go home.”

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead and says, “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m your family now. Or what is of it.” His lips feel so soft and wonderful, and how desperately you wish to enjoy the feeling. But not like this. You cannot think properly nor muster any sort of response, too distracted and stressed and focused on calming your breathing.

“Although,” he then adds with a smirk, “it truly is not considered a family until you have a babe of your own…or two.”

At his words, you tremble and whimper and try your best to break free, though it is all in stupid and foolish vain. There is no going anywhere, the knots are too tight and Aemond can easily overpower you. All you can do is stare up at the man you once considered your favorite character in the series, ever since the eighth episode aired and he stole your heart and soul and burrowed himself deep within your most inner thoughts and fixation.

“Do not worry,” he says, and you can see a twinkle in the violet of his eye. He rests a hand on your collarbone, gently drawing little shapes across the skin. “Good things will come out of this night, my love, I promise you that.”

Look on the bright side, you tell yourself, in some dumb attempt to steel your nerves, better Aemond Targaryen to lose your virginity to.

“You need to be quieter, my darling-” Aemond murmurs close to your ear “-we do not need curious ears listening in, do we?” He has you riding him, both hands clutching your hips as you do your best to bounce on his cock and match his thrusts. You’re sloppy and inexperienced, and a bit confused on what exactly to do, but it is so endearing that his lips curl into a grin.

Oh, you were made for me, he thinks, watching the way your glazed-over eyes try to hold his gaze. He will have you believe that by the end of the night, dawning if necessary.

There is much rush now that he found you, now that he has the chance to claim you.

You still moan, loud and high-pitched, and he slaps a hand flat over your mouth to shut you up. It makes your pretty and teary eyes widen more as you grab at his wrist, holding onto it while he tuts. “I’ll move my hand when you learn to listen to your husband and stay quiet. No one is allowed to hear my wife in her pleasure. No one but I.” At that, you bat your eyelashes at him, breasts heaving as he leans you down, so close your lips nearly touch, and Aemond can feel your heavy pants against his mouth.

“They will take you away from me, and ship you far across the world where I can’t find you,” he hisses, pinching your swollen nipple between his fingers, “I can’t have that. No, no, do you hear me? I will not survive being torn from you.”

The mere thought of losing you, either at the hands of his mother and grandsire or you returning to your homeland, fills him with sheer dread.

He does not know how to tell you that you are the girl of his dreams, everything he has desired and more. He has seen you in his nighttime slumbers and in the gleam of the summer sunlight and up among the black midnight stars.

But the words fall apart on his tongue, and all he can do is lay beneath you and marvel at your beauty: cheekbones and pretty puffy lips and the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows furrow in pure pleasure, and how you look utterly delicious and ruined.

“You were made for me,” he breathes in awe, palming at both your breasts. You have to believe him, this sweet and pretty girl of his, how could you not? The gods above created you for him, he will make you see it. “You are taking me so fucking well,” and Aemond flattens a palm against your belly, where he can feel the slight bulge of his cock. “Look at you, you’re my dream come true.” He thrusts his hips up, fucking into you harder and deeper. It makes you squeal and go cross-eyed.

“Is this too much? I know you can handle it, my darling. My love, my sweet girl,” he purrs.

Aemond swipes at the drool pooling at your lips before stuffing two fingers in. “Fuck,” he whines, breathing hard, slipping his other hand in between your thighs, and with his thumb, rubbing at your clit. Your face twists in a gasp as you tremble, your entire body tightening until you cream over his cock, your loud moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he hums, slowing his thrusts, “Such a good fucking girl. Look at that, did that feel good, my love?” he asks you.

You nod, rocking your hips back and forth. Your thighs shaking and your face scrunching in complete bliss as you start again, taking his cock deep in your stomach with tiny bounces. “Please- please- please-” you babble against his palm. “I-I want- I need-”

“Want what, my sweet girl? Need what, my darling wife?”

You don’t answer, too overtaken by the pleasure. Aemond chuckles and leans upwards, to bury his face between your breasts. You are absolutely stunning, gorgeous, a living goddess; how he went this long without you is baffling. “You wish for my seed. Is that what you want?” he mutters against your nipple, “of course you do, this belly is too empty, isn’t it? My son should be sleeping inside.” His fingers pinch your clit, and you gasp again. “You’ll be the prettiest mother. You were made to carry my children. You were made for me,” and he pulls your face back to his, with a rough grip on your chin.

“Tell me,” he demands through a pant, “tell me how fucking badly you need my seed. Tell me…tell me right now.”

“I- I need it-“ you choke out, but then you shake your head. “No- No I can’t! I- I need to go- go home!”

Aemond laughs, so hard he flings his head back. The sight takes you by surprise before he shoves you off, causing you to land next to him on the bed. You stare up at him, wide eyed and puzzled and swollen and covered in countless bites and bruises. In one swing, he forces your face into the pillow as he mounts you from behind, fucking you hard. His fingers return to your clit, squeezing and tweaking and not caring one bit about your muffled yelps and whines

“You’ll learn, my sweet girl, but perhaps not tonight. I am your home now, do you understand? I’m your family, your husband, and the father to your children.”

He grabs a fistful of damp hair and yanks your face back, never once slowing his thrusts. Your mouth is open with many moans spilling out, eyes clouded with tears, and cheeks flushed. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, “You are going nowhere.” Then propping himself on one arm, he trails small kisses up your back to your shoulder blade until his mouth slams down on yours in a heavy and wet kiss.

And when he pulls away, his fingertips squeeze your cheeks together as he demands for you to open your mouth. "You are mine," he grunts, "you belong to me," before spitting into it. "Good, now swallow."

And when you do, he smiles.

"There, see?" he coos, leaning to kiss your forehead as he feels you tighten around his cock. He was going to seed you again, deep inside your womb. Come the morning, he knows his son will be in there, and he can hardly wait.

"My wife, my darling girl, the only woman deserving of me and all of me. Only me." He watches you sob at that, pink lips pressing in a tight line as fat tears streak down both cheeks. "Oh, do not worry, my love. You're too lovely to be crying," and he uses his thumb to brush away the tears, "I'm here to give you the life you deserve," he vows, so lovingly, "you will want for nothing."

With a loud huff, you plop yourself on the couch.

The saying “home sweet home” never felt more sincere until now. It took much time and planning and effort and sneaking around on your part, but you managed to find a way to escape from Aemond Targaryen, though not without consequences. Your belly was growing only larger with every new moon, and your babe was starting to shift around more. At most times, you could feel the fluttering sensation across the bottom of your tummy, and every now and then, the tiniest kick.

It was adorable, you admitted, and you tried your best to find enjoyment throughout the pregnancy, sometimes wondering at night about who your child would resemble.

Would their looks favor yours? Or would they favor their father, with his Valyrian features- that iconic silver hair and violet eyes. The latter worried you the most. How could you even begin to explain why your child looked as if they belonged in the Game of Thrones series, specifically in House Targaryen?

Speaking of such, you had not touched House of the Dragon since you arrived back home all those months ago, too unwilling to turn on the tv and see the man whose child you were mysteriously carrying in your womb. It just did not make any sense, it felt more like a weird dream than reality.

But you were dying of boredom. The dragonling (you had taken to nicknaming the baby that, it sounded both cute and appropriate) was stealing away most of your time and energy, and your mother refused to allow you to do anything that could cause harm or add more unnecessary stress.

So you bit your tongue and swallowed down your grumbles and settled comfortably on the couch before opening Fire and Blood.

“Fucking crazy to think that this is a book of your family’s history,” you mumbled to your baby bump, “fictional my ass.”

So you read, to yourself and to your babe. Read about Aegon’s Conquest and the Year of the Three Brides and King Jaehaerys and his Alysanne and their triumphs and tragedies and legacy, and you read until you reached The Dying of the Dragons, the Blacks and the Greens, where you just sighed.

“And when Alicent sent for her second son to fly to Storm’s End, with the purpose of securing Borros Baratheon’s loyalty to Aegon II by winning the hand of one of his daughters, the Four Storms, the truth was finally known. One-eyed Prince Aemond, twenty and one, had taken a wife of his own in secret, a young maiden not of Westeros (according to Mushroom). Yet Prince Aemond lost her a month into their marriage, although by that time he had become so besotted with his bride, to such an extent that he could not bear the thought of living without her or taking another woman as his new wife.

With Prince Aemond refusing his mother’s orders, Queen Alicent had little choice but to send her youngest, Prince Daeron, in his place to Storm’s End. And by the seventh month, Prince Daeron wedded Floris Baratheon, and Prince Aemond One-Eye had reunited with his wife, who was heavy with child by the time he found her.”

You suddenly glance up from the book pages, feeling your heart hammering so hard in your chest that it seems at the end of your throat. On the wall, to your right, hung the calendar which you had taken to use as a means of tracking your pregnancy.

In two weeks, you’ll be at your seventh-month mark.

[dilfl0v3rss]

ma’am we need some more ony smut.. you can never have too much 🙂

RAHHHHH😛

“you missed me baby?” ony grumbled, his hand tightening around the back of your neck as he fed you the deepest strokes you could possibly imagine. his dick was hitting all the right places and you were completely out of it. you thought it was a good idea to take a break from everything negative in your life and try to be happier and cleaner. which was great to ony until you sent him that wack ass text that he was included in the negative part of your life. the drug dealer was appalled, his body filled with shock and anger as he read your message over and over again.

future bm👩🏾‍🍼

‘this not gon work out no more ony’

‘you too toxic for me and i will never be truly happy and find a man that’ll treat me the way i deserve if i keep fuckin wit you’

ony was furious, but as the chill guy he was he decided against coming to your house or popping up at your job. he knew you would come back to him eventually because there was absolutely no way any man could be better for you than him no matter how “toxic” for you he was. he was a toxin you loved. all he sent was a quick ‘bet’ before moving on with his day, acting as if your words didn’t bring the worst anger out of him. days went by, turning into weeks and before you knew it a month had passed. you were living the happier life you knew you deserved and even started messing with a new guy. jean treated you nice, always picking you up from work and taking you to your favorite spots to eat. he kept you happy and healthy and ate pussy like you wouldn’t believe, but that wasnt enough.

he didn’t check you the way you wanted him to, wouldn’t manhandle you in the way that made you want to melt into the sheets, didn’t say things that would make your thighs shake or heart skip a beat. he didn’t fuck you the way you wanted, the way ony did. so it was only natural that to cut him loose in the end, and take your ass right back where you belong.

“hey mama how was your break” ony said with a smirk as he looked you up and down from his front door. his shirt was nowhere to be found as he stood in his durag and sweatpants. you kept your eyes trained on the ground, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how needy you looked right now. “can i come in?” you whispered, your small voice sending a signal to his dick that it was time to wake up. ony loved how shy you got when you came to back to him, the feeling of pride creeping into his chest every time as he looked at your much smaller form practically beg for him without saying a word.

all he did was move to the side, leaving just enough room for you to walk in before closing the door behind you. ony took in the sight of your outfit. a pretty, yellow sundress that hugged all of your curves as well as some fuzzy little slides that showed the pretty pink paint on your toes. of course these were items he’s bought you, as well as the gold necklace and matching anklet with his initial on it. ony couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness for forgiveness, his dick now fighting with the restraints of his sweats as he watched your ass move as you walked towards his room in the dress he bought you.

before you made it to the bed, you felt his big hands grab at your waist, pulling your back towards his chest as he spoke lowly in your ear. “before we do this i gotta know…..you let him fuck you?” a rush of fear ran through your body, stilling you as you tried your hardest not to look guilty. the feeling of his dick poking your ass distracting you as you took a small breath of air. your action told ony everything he needed to know, a tinge of anger rushing through him as he moved his hand flat on your back before slowly bending you over the bed. “i-it wasn’t like you tho daddy” you whined, your voice dripping with fear as you tried to ease the pain of your actions, but it didn’t work. ony just continued on, lifting up your dress to find that you weren’t wearing any panties before slowly freeing his dick from the confines of his pants. “don’t run”

he thrusted into you without prep or warning, feeding you each and every inch of his dick as you screamed bloody murder in the sheets. your wetness already surrounding him as you felt him already begin to move in and out of you. “must be crazy” his voice was low and taunting, the feeling of his rough palms on your ass making your brain turn to mush. “w-we was never t’gether thooo, and y-you was mean t’me pa” you whined, your words slurred as you tried your best to reason with this man, but ony just scoffed. his hips moving harder and he slid his hand to the back of your neck. he pushed your face deep into the sheets, letting you release your screams there as he angled his dick downward towards your stomach.

“bitch we was always together. who pussy is this? say it” you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came through. just spit and tears reaching the sheets as your walls clenching tighter and tighter around his dick. usually ony would let this slide, but since you liked to go out fucking niggas he had to be a little more stern with you. a hard slap was sent to your ass, the sound bouncing off the walls of his room. the feeling lingered on the fatty flesh as you screamed into the sheets at the contact. “answer me when m’talking t’you mama. unless you want me t’stop” his threat instantly brought you back, your whines much more audible as you lifted your face from the sheets.

“n-nooo don’t stoppp” a smirk planted on ony’s face at your desperation, his hand rubbing the hot skin of your ass while he looked at the white ring of cream surrounding his dick. “then answer me” your pussy fluttered as you told him the words he wanted to hear. “s’yours daddy. s’your pussy” a smirk crept on his face, the golds on the canines of his teeth making an appearance as he moved both of his hands to your waist, pushing your stomach to the bed completely before quickening to a relentless pace. “uhh huh, now tell daddy you sorry” ony’s deep voice sent many shivers down your spine, your arch going even deeper as you felt his dick in your stomach. he pulled your head out of the sheets by your hair, giving you just enough room to talk to him as he continued his brutal pace on your sore pussy. “m’sorry daddy m’never gonna talk to him again”

satisfied with your response, ony gave you a quick “good girl” before easing up just a little, his dick hitting your g spot a little gentler as he pulled your back towards his chest, his hand around your middle as he moved his other towards your chin. his brown eyes looked deep into yours as he searched for any lie, but he found none. ony smiled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure. your release rushing towards you as you fucked your self back on his dick. “you missed daddy baby? missed me right here?” he said, his hand rubbing on your stomach as he felt your walls clench in agreement. you nodded your head, letting out a small “yea” before moving your hand towards your chest, your eyes never leaving his as you pushed down on where your heart was. “m-missed you r-right here too” ony felt his heart swell at the sight, his grills completely bare to you as he gave you a happy smile.

“missed you more mama, next time you touch another nigga ima kill him y’hear me?” your pussy fluttered at his words, eyes struggling to stay straight as you mirrored ony’s smile.

“i hear you”

[sissybabycucksophia]

The Adult Baby Adoption Part 3

(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)

“Wakey Wakey Jadey bear~” a familiar voice melodically hummed, slowly i began to open my eyes having fallen asleep on daddy’s lap. Now however i appeared to be somewhere else. Slowly coming too I realised i was sat in a changing room, with daddy stood between me and the door. Looking down I realised I was sat in nothing but my diaper and my pathetic little girls flower cross necklace, even the pink wig on my head was removed and I gradually noticed that the diaper was a brand new diaper. “Well aren’t you a sound sleeper Jadey bear? I managed get you completely undressed, remove your wig and change your diaper all without you waking up! Also i added a few diaper stuffers to your diaper just to make it last longer” daddy said gently patting my head.

Feeling the embarrassment rush through me i reacted oddly to my nakedness and crossed my arms across my chest trying to cover up, “daddy…. Why have got no clothes on?” I whimpered looking up at him. At that daddy would pull out of his bag and begin securing on my head a more realistic looking Brunette wig which reached down to my nipples. “Because silly little baby! We need to get you more appropriately dressed obviously” daddy chuckled as he kissed my cheek and I noticed hanging on the door in front of me a big puffy white dress. “Ready for what?” I whimpered to which daddy stood up right after securing the new wig and said “ready for your Christening baby! Your going to be christened Jade Ulysses Carmichael and from then on you’ll be one of god’s soldiers. You’ll live a life devoted to this church, its flock and your fellow babies also being christened today. We’ll get a certificate with your new name and we will never again have to refer too you by that vulgar name you used to have. I can’t wait for you to legally have my first name as your middle name and my surname as your surname! You’ll truly feel like my child once my name is part of your name!”

Shock hit me like a bus as daddy spoke, I don’t believe in any god or any religion! And yet this man was not only going to christen me a follower of his religion but also change my name and add his name into mine like a stamp of ownership! “But daddy I Don’t beli….” I tried to protest but daddy cut me off as he pulled me too my feet and took the puffy white dress from the door, unzipping the back of the dress it was clearly it had been designed in a most child appropriate style but in adult dimensions. “Ssshhh jade, i know your excited baby but we really must get you ready!” Daddy said as he then raised the dress over my head and dropped it down over me.

Man handling my arms through the waste, the dress would stop with the waist resting on my diaper waist band. Guiding my arms into the dress’s sleeves daddy pulled the torso of the dress up into place. Before i could object i felt the torso of the dress begin cinching tight around my body from the waist up as daddy zipped me in. Looking down i saw a tight bodice with little sparkly detailing, puffy shoulders which tapered into form fitting sleeves which were lined by sparkly detailing and a skirt which poofed out from my waist hiding everything beneath. As I studied myself daddy would begin guiding my feet into whilte socks with frills around the ankle and a pair of white dolly flats with an ankle strap and white flowers across the toes. Stepping back too look me up and down daddy would turn me around too look at myself in the mirror, as I studied myself daddy would reach over my shoulders and dig out the little girl flower cross necklace to make sure it was on show.

Hugging me from behind daddy whispered “my beautiful little angel, your the vision of femininity my gorgeous baby girl. I honestly cant wait to christen you my daughter! Remember when your being christened that your giving yourself to god and this church baby! Isn’t that great?!” Daddy whispered in my ear. Not that i really heard it as i stood looking at myself in the mirror… why was I Allowing this, surely any embarrassment from being seen chastised and diapered couldn’t be as bad as this! As i stood totally enraptured and entranced by mental fantasies of escape and freedom i didn’t even flinch as daddy secured a thick black collar around my neck which on the front had my new baby name ‘jade’ in big metallic letters and from the back of it i felt something hanging down my back. However it wouldn’t be until i felt my right wrist being grabbed by daddy and manoeuvred behind my back that i would stop day dreaming and begin too panic.

As i felt a thick cuff lock around my right wrist I panicked asking daddy “have you not embarrassed me enough by dressing me like this? Can i not even have my arms free?” I whimpered as I tried too tug my right arm back round it would tug on my neck as the two collars seemed connected. Ignoring my concerns daddy would secure my left wrist into the other cuff and before i knew it i was helpless once again, turning me around too look at me daddy crouch before me and placed a hand on either side if the bodice of my dress and looked deep into my eyes as he said “you know why i agree to take such a yucky, ugly, weak, pasty and pathetic little boy from the agency to be my Baby girl? Do you know why i picked you? Your eyes…. Your beautiful big blue eyes. So innocent and adorable, i knew that once i fixed the rest and made you a little girl that those eyes would be far more comfortable once the face and body around them matched their feminine and beautiful charm!” Daddy said as I suddenly stopped struggling to get my arms free and blushed with embarrassment as i said “you chose me because my eyes are pretty? But you said you didn’t want a boy baby from the agency? You said we had to make do with the fact this mix up had happened and it was my fault for reading the paperwork wrong” i said with confidence and even upset building in my voice. He’d chosen me! Had he stolen me away before a mommy dom got the chance too choose me?. “Sssssshhhhh jade there there. Yes i chose you, your right I didn’t want a baby boy but i knew looking at your innocent blue eyes i could make you perfect! Now we best go now, its your turn now to be Christened!” Daddy replied standing up and opening the changing room door, tears began to fill my eyes as visions of a different life flash through my mind. Leading me out the door of the changing room I followed behind like the submissive little baby faggot that I was, leading me too the stage I looked out as “parents” sat with their “babies” sat all dressed up. The adult babies all wore white, the adult baby girls all wore dresses like me and the baby boys wore white suits.

Looking too daddy he motioned for me to sit on the chair behind a school desk in the middle of the stage, shuffling over i sat down struggling to keep my dress from poofing out in all directions as I struggled to free my arms. Sat before me was a piece of paper on which was written ‘This Document hereby states that James Valence will be Transitioning To and will be changing their name too Jade Ulysses Carmichael. As such this document also states that the afore mentioned James, willingly grants Ulysses Carmichael Full Power of Attorney while still of mental capacity to do so. As such this legally binding document states that James Valence will be legally adopted by Ulysses Carmichael and will turn over all decision making capabilities and freedoms too Ulysses Carmichael.’ Oh god no! This couldn’t be happening! And it got worse! My signature had already been faked on the document! Watching daddy go into his pocket and pulling out a pen and reaching past me to sign and accept legal authority over me, “no please! Daddy stop! Don’t do this!!! Im a man but i swear i’ll never resist you again as long as you don’t sign that please!! Please!! You cant do this!!! You can’t take my freedom like this!!!!” I begged and whimpered as tears gushed down my face and dripped onto my dress. Signing to contract regardless, daddy would proceed to kiss me on the lips and begin making out with me before pulling back too whispering “sh’up faggot, your mine now! No ones coming to save you! Now dry those helpless blue eyes and lets get you christened!” With an evil smile as he grabbed the underside of my left arm and dragged me too my gay little dolly flat and frilly sock coated feet.

At that the crowd of parents and subs cheered, clapping, throwing diapers, Dresses, Bras and stuffies onto the stage at me. As they did reverend imelda would come onto stage and stood at her podium, then from the floor of the stage next to daddy arose a large Tank of water. “Well as you all know Today we Christen all of your new babies with their new names and identities as your children. The first beautiful baby to day to be Christened in the eyes of god is the absolutely pathetic Jade Ulysses Carmichael!!!!” Reverend Imelda said excitedly as daddy push me over too the tank of water pressed me up against it so my knees were against the tank. Then i felt his hand on the back of my neck and suddenly before i could say a word i was bent over at the waist, my ribs against the rim of the tank and my head fully submerged. Panicking i screamed under the water and desperately thrashed around trying to free my arms and push myself out but the straps holding my arms behind my back were far too tight. My life began flashing before my eyes as I inhaled water and coughed wasting valuable oxygen, whats worse was i knew no one was helping me nor was reverend Imelda stopping the ceremony. After 2 minutes and thirty seconds daddy would pull my head out of the water, dropping to my knees in my puffy christening dress I began coughing up the water i’d swallowed as tears rolled down my face and sissy cum’s leaked into him diaper. “I now hereby announce Jade Ulysses Carmichael christened!” Reverend Imelda said excitedly as a cheer filled the room. Dragging me to my feet Daddy picked me up bridal style once again and would carry me off stage too an empty seat at the end of the front row. Sitting me down right night too the man who’d humped me against my will. “Babies need to sit in the front row, daddy will be just a few rows back. Welcome to my family and the church Jade… daddy’s so proud of you” he said as he then disappeared.

For the next two hours i sat watching every Adult baby sign a name change and power of attorney document before having there heads dunked in the tank. Like me some were horribly distressed and uncomfortable but every baby had some kind of restraints on their hands or arms too stop them fighting the dunk. Tears slowly dripping down my face the entire time and sniffling like a sad little girl eventually the event began to reach its conclusion. Being lifted to my feet by daddy I was escorted to a group picture with all the “babies”. However as though a cruel taunt I was stood next to the only other Adult baby who had been forced to crossdress. Recognising her from earlier the girl was beautiful, she had such soft skin so soft and feminine looking, her eyes a beautiful golden brown and her lips plump and shapely. However much to the sheer devastation of the girl she had had her hair cut and shaven to a buzz cut, her chest was clearly being binded, her nails has been cut short and was stood wearing a white formal suit. Her hands were mittened and cuffed together in front of her and a pacigag held a blue paci in her mouth.

Stood next to her I begun to feel less alone as she balled and whaled with tears of sheer devastation and despair. As they arranged us to take the picture, I stepped closer to her pressing my chest against her side. Looking at me she tried to shake her head and say she wasn’t a man, “its ok! I’m a boy! Look just snuggle up to me like we’re getting along then when you get home tell your captor that you would feel better if you got a playdate with Jade Carmichael!” I whispered as I then rather humiliatingly rested my head on her shoulder and smiled. As the picture was taken so marked the end of the ordeal, grabbing my by the shoulder my now legal guardian and decision maker would lead me out of the church, forcing me to curtsy goodbye to every adult we stopped to talk too on the way out.

(Pictures for reference, Jade is forced to wear this dress in an adult size that fits him)

[shantechni]

I noticed this a looooong time ago, but I didn't mention it and sort of kept pushing it aside as an unimportant detail. After coming across this for, like, the fifth time though, something finally strikes me as supremely odd, and it's these two simple lines Leo says in the first episode of S2.

Between the S1 finale and the S2 premiere, Splinter told his sons that he defeated the Shredder when they faced off in the hideout. Not only that, he told them they'd never see the man again because he lost his honor, but both of these statements are immediately proven to be contradictory to what actually took place, as well as to what Splinter believes about the Shredder's way of thinking.

Anyone who has watched the S1 finale, specifically the second part, knows that the fight was brought to a screeching halt when Karai ran in to stop Splinter from finishing off the Shredder. And, after seeing just how deeply influenced Karai has been to hate him, Splinter left in a hurry to avoid fighting who he now knows is his thought-to-be-dead daughter.

Now, it makes sense that Splinter didn't tell the boys Karai interrupted the fight considering she was a touchy subject, one he didn't approach all of his sons with until midway through S2 in The Manhattan Project. He was still coming to terms with the revelation himself, and his avoidance of everyone's questions tells us that he genuinely didn't want to explain why Karai believed he killed her mom. In the process, he'd have to get into the reason Shredder led Karai to believe that lie and yadda yadda.

So, not telling them Karai was there makes sense. But why tell them the Shredder was defeated?

Something like that would be believable if he didn't imply any finality by telling them the Shredder was taken down, because he goes on to wonder outloud if their enemies were truly defeated and even reaffirms that, "The Shredder is a crafty and patient foe who bides his time." But Leo clearly says that Splinter told them they'd never see him again after he apparently lost whatever honor he had left. And we can't point fingers at any potential dialogue or writing error because they make sure the audience hears that Splinter did indeed facilitate this calm behavior of theirs.

One can wonder if he didn't truly intend to flat out lie, but rather to placate his sons by withholding a harsh truth and giving everyone the time they need to revel in their victory. However, that's another odd decision for Splinter to make since he's usually the one to remind his sons that none of their enemies will stay gone for long, the first and most notable instance of this being when they first encountered Bradford and Xever.

Anyways, after Leo says what he says, Splinter takes offense to Raph casually adding that they'll take care of the Shredder if he does come back, and, upon realizing that his prior statement has heavily blanketed them with a false sense of security, he harshly tells his sons the month long celebrating is over.

Honestly, even though I said sugar coating is very out of character for someone like Splinter, it's the only sensible answer for him lying to the guys. And probably himself for a minute there, too.

He knows the Shredder isn't honorable. He's traitorous, underhanded, and full of spite for those he feels wronged him. Oroku Saki is a vengeful man who has been undeniably wronged in his past, but refuses to learn from it and will shift the blame onto those undeserving. He's tenacious in the way he literally left Japan with a singular image of a Hamato clan shuriken as proof that he has another chance to kill someone he used to call his brother.

Splinter knows all of this, but he still went ahead and made the morally dubious decision to construct a perfect, short-lived world where he could tell his sons they wouldn't have to worry about the Shredder again.

And where he doesn't have to face the gravity of the changes yet to come.

[lyramundana]

No feelings involved...right?

Prologue and Part 1

Warnings❗: Implied baby trapping, dubious consent. It all happens at the end.

If their current predicament could be resumed in one sentence, it'll sound like a mother's voice saying "I told you so".

They didn't plan it. It all started with a small mishap, a consequence of their exhaustion and the amount of issues going on in their personal lives. Then the mishap repeated itself, and then they decided to turn it into a game for their own pleasure, no strings attached to her. Then the game grew beyond their control and became a mountain of lies, too big to seize them.

Jisung first met her through a friend of his, and although he found her beautiful then, she didn't catch his attention beyond that. They met frecuently, since they both ran in the same circle of friends, and after one night being left alone by their drunk friends, they spent the time talking and turned out they had more in common that he thought. They clicked, in a way it's hard to explain, but just felt like he knew her since forever. They went from mere acquaintances to suddenly having her name appear at the top of his contact list along with Minho's.

Minho met her through his boyfriend, of course. He first saw her when Jisung brought her home to hang out, without even warning him about it. Their introduction was pretty formal, quick. They shook hands, made some small talk and Jisung inmediatly stole her attention again. Minho wasn't interested in befriending her and viceversa, but Jisung was their common point and she eventually became a regular presence in their apartment, so they really had no option but get along. Forced proximity and all.

Jisung has always known a lot of people, plenty of familiar faces that tend to flock towards him wherever he goes, but few of them can say they truly know him. Jisung cracks jokes, plays long with them, but rarely speaks about himself. He keeps a careful, calculated distance, because he knows that despite all those smiles and compliments, they only see the surface, what they want to see, and don't care about the rest. Which it's okay, it comes with the job, and this facade actually helps to keep undesirable people away without being rude. But she...she's different. From the moment she spoke to him and he listened, he found there was more to her than what she showed. Like him, she never allowed people to see beyond the surface, simply letting them believe the version they liked to spare herself the headaches. She understood him. And for the first time in years, Jisung felt a genuine connection to someone besides Minho.

The funny thing is that they don't talk that much, outside those events where the whole group meets and they stick together to not get bored. And when they get to talk, it's mostly about stuff only they know and deep, phylosophical converstations where they discuss the meanings of life. Maybe, if he's in a certain mood, he complains about a recent argument with Minho and asks for advice, but that's not the norm with them. When he brings her home is to get drunk over petty drama and gossip, without the others. They just fall back in the comfortability of a quiet friendship where no small talks were needed and they could simply let go of their masks.

Things between Minho and her weren't ideal at first. The few times they interacted was when she was at their flat, usually drunk and leaving a mess, and he got mad at it. He could look past it when it was Jisung, but having a stranger doing it was something else. He made sure of letting her know after the drunk haze, barely holding back the bite in his words. He expected her to get offended or feel embarrassed, but no. She never showed an ounce of shame, instead replying him with the same snarky tones, and sometimes that small lopsided grin of hers that made his blood boil. But what started as mostly petty arguments and cold greetings turned into a sense of complicity when they realized their humour was similar and they both acted like Jisung's babysitters more often than not.

Minho is used to be misunderstood. His resting bitch face, his brutal honesty, his reserved demeanour and that perpetual indifference in his face that rarely expressed emotions. People were quick to form opinions about him and not all were good. He was considered cold, arrogant, a snob that didn't like to mingle with those he saw "beneath him", you get it. Most wondered how someone so sweet and cheerful as Jisung could fall for him. It's okay for Minho, he doesn't see the point in caring for what strangers may think. The people he loves know him for who he is and that's enough. Then she came, all carefree and playful and open-minded. Jisung only spoke good things about her, but Minho knew his boy could be biased. Until they started talking and he found out she was truly different. She wasn't intimidated by him, even though he pulled the worst of him sometimes with her around, but she never reacted on it. She was quick to stand up against him, all prideful and confident. And her lack of respect felt like a wheeze of fresh air. After being constantly misjudged, it felt nice to have someone apart from Jisung that made an effort to see through his facade.

Before they noticed it, she became a constant in their lives. Even if they didn't meet often, even if the phone calls sometimes got short, she was present and they felt it. Whenever they needed a favour, she was the safest option. When something juicy happened, she was the first person they called. Even when their fights got brutal and they had no one to seek advice from, her door appeared in front of their eyes.

She never turned down, although her complaints were very much heard. She acted as a bridge between them both when they refused to take the initiative, pushing them to apologise and communicate their problems and feelings. Minho was stubborn, but Jisung could easily win him at times, and persuade them to move past it was a pain. Nevertheless, she did it every single time, to the point the walls of her house and the natural scent that filled it became so familiar to them.

They genuinely don't know when things started to change. They talked it before and both agreed she was beautiful, easy to the eyes, but nothing more. Sure, she was a vital part of their lives now but that's all they wanted her to be. At least that's what they told themselves until that night behind that club, when they tasted her for the first time and found the missing piece they had been bothering them for so long. That annoying empty space in their sex life that have appeared coincidentally shortly after meeting her..

Of course, things couldn't be the same after that mindblowing experience, not like they wanted it to either. They planned the whole affair while she slept in their arms, dead to the world. It was easy to convince her, with her body still vibrating by the last events and her mind still waking up. Granted that wasn't exactly correct from their parts, but they were slightly desperate and the idea of letting her go after that sounded awfully wrong.

And so that was the start of their downfall.

Looking back, they asked for it. At first it was all very natural. They were still friends but now they also fucked sometimes. She was open to every kink and preference of theirs, and she also introduced them to her own tastes. No commitment, no explanations expected or needed. But when their encounters became more often it got harder to stay away from her, they had her sign an NDA to continue. Which was..okay, not something they accounted for but it wasn't necessarily a problem.

No, the problems started when their feelings began to get in the way of the commitment-free arrangement they wanted.

Their doll was a gorgeous creature, a delightful sight for sore eyes, and they knew it. She was like this when they met her and they had no problem with it, Jisung even admired it and made jokes about it, about how ridiculous easy those idiots fell for her charms, scrambling on their feet to get an ounce of her attention. But at some point, seeing such scenes evoked less amusement and more disgust. And following disgust, there was something else. Something twisted and painful and deadly that climbed to their throats when another worthless scum tried his luck with her. Minho could heard this tempting voice in his head telling him to rip their guts out and Jisung imagined a number of creative scenarios where he taught that bastard a lesson.

Sometimes, those voices told them to grab their precious doll and drag her away from those dirty hands, keep her near where they couldn't lose her, which was weird because she meant nothing to them. Just a close acquaintance they casually fucked from time to time very often. And yet...

These sudden, strange emotions were translated in their bed.

The sex with her was always rough and fast, and the only aftercare that ocurred was sharing a smoke in bed over some small talk. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. Their usual routine felt short, uncomplete, unsatisfying. The mouths started to trace her face, her body, the marks they left on her. Their movements turned slower, more gentle, more precise. They wanted to see how it was when she burst in pleasure, when she gave herself up entirely in their arms. They kissed, caressed, worshipped the entirety of her skin, and they whispered words of praise in her ears for the duration of it. And when it was done, they needed wanted her close, lulling her into sleep as their arms trapped her against them.

"You're doing so, so well, doll. Can you give us one more, please? You look lovely like this."

"Look at you, already crying and shaking. Shh, it's okay, love, we got you. Leave it to us, okay'"

But when they couldn't stand that twisted feeling in their guts, after seeing some other clown trying to steal her away, both men turned animalistic on her. They were all confused at this change, and the two of them couldn't explain where did it came from. They just felt the urgent need to cover her in bites, scratches and hickeys, in every place where those undeserving eyes feasted upon. ¿How dare those assholes? ¿Didn't they know she was with them? ¿Had they no shame? ¿Did they really think they stood a chance?

"That's it, keep looking at us, slut. That's where your eyes should always be. ¿What the fuck were you thinking, uh?"

"¿You wanted him to fuck you too? Is that it? You greedy whore. Clearly we need to fuck you more. We'll make sure you can't even talk or walk without our help."

And it didn't end just there. They started to bring her to their dates, inviting her everywhere they went, giving her their clothes. They had love-hate feelings towards her revealing dresses, because as much as they enjoyed the view, they hated seeing others do the same. She became part of their routine, outside the sex part. She was always there. And as time passed, it felt like she had been there since the beginning. They hardly remembered how things were before she came.

But they kept lying to themselves, lying to everyone. This wasn't anything. They could stop whenever they wanted to. There no other feelings involved. Of course not.

And things finally went downhill when someone asked them:

"So, that girl that's always with you two, what's the deal with her? Is there something serious going on? Because you have to introduce her to us, then."

That question struck them. Brutally.

They never thought too much about it. Things with her just...happened naturally, and they barely noticed it. They simply followed their instincts at the time, not realizing the weight those actions could hold. ¿What was the deal with her, truly? Granted, she was more than just a quick fuck, but still. And what was up with them? Why the fuck did they want to meet her? She was perfectly fine where she was.

At the end of the day, the three of them moved in different worlds. There were things about themselves they couldn't tell her, things she would never understand. Maybe that was better, they thought. To keep her away from that circus of drama and lies and dirty secrets they were part of. She didn't belong there. And to keep her far away from idiots butting their noses where they shouldn't.

So they quickly defused the situation. She was just an acquaintance, they didn't really know her, yeah. They already had each other, it had always been just each other. She meant nothing.

If she did, where did that leave them?

¿Were they supposed to know someone was going to post their answer on social media? Were they supposed to know she would see it and demand explanations too?

Yes

They never saw her so angry, so emotional. She was bursting in anger and sadness and dissapointment, and they could both feel how their hearts stopped at the sight. It didn't feel right.

When she started to speak, they sort of panicked. They couldn't control the situation this time, they couldn't control her, and they didn't have proper answers for it. At least, not the kind of answers that would help them.

Most of all, they were confused. As she confronted them with facts, about how their strange behaviour with her and their motivations, they were forced to acknowledge the reality of everything.

That she meant more than they thought. Way more than they wanted her to. It was a liability. A problem. An unexpected turn of events they weren't prepared for.

And because they weren't prepared, they simply said the words that sounded logical at the moment. Cold statements of what they all knew, of what they agreed on the beginning. They didn't truly mean it, as they would realize later, but they felt cornered. And at the moment, the only strenght they could rely on was their pride.

They foolishly thought she would stay after that. That she would see their point of view and calm down.

As expected, she didn't. When it fell on them the terrible error they made, it was late. She left the place. Emptied it of whatever part of her and blocked them from her life.

And as expected, the aftermath was fucking disastrous.

Being deprived so suddenly from her presence after getting used to have her near everyday was hellish. No more calls, no more dates, no more lazy afternoons in the couch. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in their lives that they couldn't fill, no matter how much they tried. And god knows they did.

No vice or person could replace the feelings she invoked in them.

They turned down invitations, calls of friends, choosing to stay at home and just hang out by themselves. Staying at home too long drove them insane, but going out wasn't much better. She was everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the people. It was a nightmare.

When a close friend of theirs invited them to the opening of club, they only accepted in hopes for a distraction, and to keep appareances a bit. But the cold, boring night inmediately acquired a brilliant colour when they saw her.

More beautiful than ever, with her pretty dress and carefully done make-up. Her damned smile brightened the whole club and, for a moment, they felt in peace. Like nothing changed.

Until they saw she wasn't alone. Her warm arms, who used to be held by them, were now occupied by other men. Some they didn't know. A pair of strangers taking their rightful places, and she just laughed and danced with them like it was normal.

They spent the whole night like that, watching her and brooding, with that familiar green boiling in their stomach. She looked gorgeous, out of this world, and it wasn't fucking fair. That should be them. She should have been with them, filling their ears with her cute laugh and letting them wrap their arms over her.

Deep down, they knew they fucked up. It was solely their fault. They had their chance to make her stay, to trap her, and they messed up. ¿Why did things have to be this way? Why did they have to realize the size of their mistake in a moment of jealousy? It was stupid.

When they saw her walking outside alone, they exchanged a glance and they knew it.

They made several mistakes, but they learnt from them. Having her hating them was better than not having her at all, so they followed.

It was so easy to fall back into routine. She was already weakened by their presence, and it was the same for them too. Some yelling here and there, insults being thrown back and forth, a bit of fighting, but they ended up right where they wanted: Locked bathroom, against a wall, and the music covering their moans.

They didn't stop until she was bursting with their cum, pushing it right back inside where a drop ran down her legs. Until there wasn't a single trace of skin unmarked. Until she couldn't fucking walk without their help.

And when few weeks later, she showed up in their apartment with three positive tests, they pretended to be shocked and made her move in with them.

They could already see the picture she would make. It was going to be perfect.

(i had this shit collecting dust in my drafts for a millenia and today i had a strange burst of inspiration to finish it. sorry for the waiting to those who asked for this part)

Taglist: @hanjisunglover @queenmea604 @linlinaert @bluducky @jinnie-ret @aalexyuuuhm @noellllslut @skzms @thightswideforhanin @aliensfoundthisblogl @k-krissten @stayconnecteed @hanjibug @roseykat

[lurkingshan]

Every time I see a Wedding Impossible GIFs on my dash I keep thinking that when it's over I'd love to read your take on what went wrong with this show. In a form of a very spiteful rant preferably.

(the show probably doesn't deserve too much of your time but I am just very VERY curious and had to share)

WELL! I was considering just letting this show go quietly into the night, but I will take this excuse to do a good rant instead.

*cracks knuckles*

You asked what went wrong with this show, but truly, nothing went right with it. From top to bottom, it's an utter waste of a good premise and a total destruction of the rare opportunity to get some positive queer rep into a het kdrama for a broader audience than will ever be reached by a ql. Let me list the most glaring problems:

They made Do Han a supporting character in his own narrative. Do Han, his sexuality, his desire and need to hide who he is to protect himself, and his desperate plan to avoid a life he doesn't want is the core of the story. Despite that, the story treats him like a minor supporting character with limited screen time and virtually no interiority or character development that made any sense.

The relationships were poorly written and the bonds were not believable. Ah Jeong was meant to be Do Han's ride or die bestie, but nothing in their scenes together or her behavior towards him suggested this was actually true. They seemed more like acquaintances who were friendly enough but had no real loyalty to each other, or even like she was a random actress he hired to play his wife. And Ji Han and Do Han had no brotherly bond or affection to speak of; their relationship consisted entirely of Ji Han throwing tantrums and demanding things for no reason other than he wants them, and Do Han trying to avoid being forced into them.

The leads were terrible people and the show did not realize that. Do Han's brother and best friend entered into a romance while she was engaged to Do Han. Ji Han thought it was a real relationship and did not seem to feel any guilt about pursuing his brother's lover. Ah Jeong was under a contract she agreed to as both his best friend and as a job to protect him and did not seem to care that she was breaking her commitment and threatening his safety. They gallivanted around flaunting their relationship in public with no regard for Do Han or his reputation whatsoever. And the show tried to convince me that Do Han was the selfish one in this scenario for the great sin of being gay and not just fucking off and getting out of the way of their relationship. Ji Han and Ah Jeong were never held accountable for what they did to him; instead we got to watch many scenes of Do Han being shamed and berated. Anyone who contributed to the writing and depiction of this can get fucked.

Every element of the story was poorly written and the resolutions were either unearned or so badly set up that they fell flat anyway. Do Han was being harassed and stalked and the story only barely cared about this. The family drama was boring and the grandpa character was a mess of contradictions who changed on a dime depending on the demands of the plot. There was no chemistry to speak of between the leads. The romance was utterly unbelievable and developed so poorly that it was impossible to care about whether these two assholes got together. The show used romcom tropes randomly to fill time even if they didn't fit. The final episode was stuffed with cameos by actors with personal connections to the cast and crew in the hopes it would distract us from what an unsatisfying conclusion it was, and the whole thing ended on a bizarre wedding gag that didn't work at all. The only good part was Do Han coming out on his own terms and leaving to go live his own life in New York, but the way they framed that was so gross I couldn't even enjoy it.

Most importantly, the messages of this show were deeply, unforgivably homophobic. This story went out of its way to tell us over and over again that Do Han is a selfish coward for being closeted, that his sexuality is a burden for his loved ones, that his family and friends are the real victims for having to deal with him, and that he was the one in the wrong for trying to protect himself. At no point was he allowed to get truly angry at the way his family and friends were treating him; he remained benevolent and shouldered the guilt and blame for everything, despite doing absolutely nothing except try to live an authentic life. At every turn the show depicted his siblings and grandfather and friend being hateful and/or careless with him, but then told us it was Do Han's fault for being who he is. They wanted us to blame the gay character and sympathize with a brother who resented him for not being the straight business leader he wanted him to be, and a friend who betrayed him without a second thought. The show argued passionately that the lies Do Han told to protect himself were the real problem, not the homophobia and hatred and rejection he faced every day of his life. It was an abysmal and offensive message and exactly the opposite of what a responsible piece of media would be trying to communicate.

I don't know if the people who made this show are actively malicious or just deeply incompetent, but they had no business telling a story involving a queer character if they were going to do it like this.

[everyandanything]

turning myself into a copypasta (yes even this part 😭) bc when I have a thought I need about 100 different opinions on it to feel validated so…. everyandanything I’m sorry but you’re my next victim………

thinking about musical!darry letting pony beat him up……. not fighting against him, just letting him tackle him flat on his back and pound his once soft now permanently hardened kid fists down on his chest and arms, the devastation on his face once soda intervenes, it’s the only way he thinks pony will ever be able to open up to him bc He hit him First in his own moment of grief and overwhelming frustration and so he wants pony to punish him for it if only just to get him to do something to help himself……..

resetting the scene…. *opens fic outline…who said that..* he remembers cradling a brand new ponyboy in his arms, he sees him swaddled in a pink blanket bc their parents had been expecting a girl bc they were both part of “two boys and a girl” families (#start your own lore challenge), baby pony loved to squeeze darry with that classic baby strength when he was upset and as 14 year old pony is on top of him screaming in his face bright red and teary holding the meat of his biceps with his nails a part of him sees that tiny baby again and only wants to hold him and soothe him like he used to be able to, take everything he’s ever said in the last few months back, drive himself to the store after work that day, but he can’t!!!! he’s already damaged their family too much, and if pony needs to let it all out like a baby throwing a tantrum- unable to truly express what they feel without physicality- then who the fuck is Darry to take that from him? soda is sitting at the table still, poking his dinner with the prongs of his fork and silently trying to keep himself steady as he !yet again! antagonizes their brother, struggling to swallow around the lump in his throat, he finds himself waiting for soda to jump in too, to kick him in the ribs and the back of the head. he needs it just as much as pony, he uses soda as a crutch too often and pushes him in the middle, almost resenting him for how intact he’s kept his relationship with pony while he grows farther and farther away from them both to the point he isn’t even a brother, not even a parent or an uncle, more like a principal or a jail warden or something of the like. soda is practically shaking in his seat, he’s angry and Darry wants him to be. they deserve to be angry and whatever else he’s made them bury when he’s around. he knows it’s selfish to be thinking of all of the wrong he’s done his babies when they hurt so bad, he knows, but it’s his fault really… he should’ve let pony be when he didn’t want to talk to him, he should’ve never thrown the bills at soda’s feet and rattled pony in the kitchen, he should’ve picked up his own frosting instead of begging for it for his birthday… soda slams his utensils on the table and rushes the clump of ponyboy and Darry on the living room floor, he grabs the back of pony’s shirt and pushes Darry’s shoulder until they separate. pony keeps crying in a ball as far from them both as he can get in the smaller space, and soda is trembling, arms out to keep Darry away from him and vise versa covered in tears of his own. his first brother, who he taught how to say swear words in secret in elementary school and was there when he said his first word while their parents were sleeping because he had a stomach ache that kept him up all night and he was so obsessed with watching over the baby in his room and sang him songs when he would fuss and believe him he Did, even when he was happy he would cry and cry… soda is blushing down his neck sobbing before he even gets coherent words out between them, it pulls Darry apart. he wants them to unleash it all on him so badly, he wants to rid them of their pain in any way that will work no matter the cost…. but he can’t… he can’t hardly open his mouth to talk to them as they cry now, but when he does..

/You’re our little brother and we love you. Did you hear what I just said… I said I love you./

he’s thought it plenty. he loves his brothers like no one’s ever loved anything and he’d bet the world on that. but he hasn’t said it in so long, not out loud, only when saying his prayers at night asking whatever’s even out there for some fucking good fortune and good luck for once, not even for him just for them…

ponyboy glances up out of the crook of his elbow and then covers his ears. he’s still so small, he’s barely a real teenager… soda’s shoulders drop like weight is shedding off of him little by little, he holds Darry’s arm like it’s the only thing he needs to keep himself upright or he’ll fall over and die right there, resting the side of his face against his bicep. soda is getting big, he’ll be 18 in a year, but he still feels like a baby… his first brother, the littlest forever in his eyes. Darry wants to scoop them up and say it again and again, to make up for everything he’s already said and done, to dig it into their heads that he loves them so much it makes him feel sick and it’ll never change even if pony still hates him in the morning and soda finally gives up on keeping him sane.

there’s a knock at the door and he stops talking, both of his brothers scrambling to different corners. Darry stays on the floor a second longer to catch his breath.

#KeepTorturingDarryCurtis …… who said that 😟

( also!!!!!! I LOVED born a grease I was sitting up every night checking the outsiders fandom tag waiting for new chapters with the power of believing and I’m so sad it’s ended but also so happy that you’ve gotten so much love bc it was incredible </3 )

Anon you can’t just drop something like this in my ask box and run. Just shatter my heart and then leave the scene of the crime, come back! I have so many questions for you!! I could read a million more words of this!!

But ughhh you totally get Darry’s self loathing and anger towards himself especially at this point in the story, like the lines “it’s the only way he thinks pony will ever be able to open up to him bc He hit him First in his own moment of grief and overwhelming frustration and so he wants pony to punish him for it if only just to get him to do something to help himself” and “he finds himself waiting for soda to jump in too, to kick him in the ribs and the back of the head.” and “he should’ve let pony be when he didn’t want to talk to him, he should’ve never thrown the bills at soda’s feet and rattled pony in the kitchen, he should’ve picked up his own frosting instead of begging for it for his birthday” are so it.

AND THEN!!! Pair it with this: “he loves his brothers like no one’s ever loved anything and he’d bet the world on that.”

Like that’s it!! You're so right. That’s 100% darry. He loves his brothers and would do anything for them, sure he doesn’t always know how to express it, sure sometimes it comes out angry, sure he’s tired and drained and and the world hasn’t treated him fair, but he loves Soda and Pony, he’s given up everything for them, and yet all he can see are all the ways he fails them. He loves them “like no one’s ever loved anything” and yet he thinks he deserves nothing but hate and anger from both of them for all the ways he’s wronged them. He can’t imagine a world where either of his brothers love him back, because in his mind, he doesn’t deserve it. Everything that's gone wrong for his brothers, even down to his parents death, is his fault. And why should they love someone that does nothing but make their lives worse?

Anon I’m so serious write like a million more things about the Curtis brothers and I’ll be sat every single time. This is so so good. 

(and thank you for the kind words, so glad you enjoyed born a grease!! 🫶🏻🥹 but most of all thank you for sending this to my ask! Don't know what I did to get Darry angst just hand delivered to my inbox like the morning news but this was lovely and soul crushing all at once. Seriously would love to read more of your writing !!! ).

[whiskeynwriting]

Comfort

Phantom Ghoul x F!Ghoul Reader

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Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

A/B/O dynamics (only briefly mentioned), vaginal sex, implied poly ghouls, sweet Phantom, slight innocence kink?

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A/N: I can’t believe I haven’t posted something in so long, but here’s an introduction to my new obsession. The band Ghost has completely taken over my life and yes, I absolutely belong to Dewdrop. Thank you and good night.

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The Band Ghost Masterlist

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It wasn’t common for Dew to be gone this long. He wasn’t often chosen for press tours and he didn’t want to be. Dewdrop liked to be at home, in the comfort of his own space and privacy, surrounded by all of his knickknacks and random things that bring him joy. And one of those things, is you. But for the past two weeks, he’s been on an entirely different continent.

You practically live there now, in his room, yours having been abandoned not long after you were summoned. But that’s not exactly where you are right now. Dew’s room could be described as… dismal. But in the most comforting of ways. It’s dark and dreary but that’s what you both like, it’s comfortable- to you, it’s cozy to you. And you’re cozy now too, it’s just… a different kind of cozy, vastly different.

Your small huffs of air are muffled in part by Phantom’s deep purple sheets, his favorite shade. There’s music in the air, notes that were already playing when you’d arrived unprompted at his doorstep. The dangling lights above his bed are glowing and his shades are open, exposing the darkness of night. And if you glance up, you can still see the twinkling stars shining in the sky. A breeze creeps through the window’s screen, having just barely been cracked. And the cool air feels nice on your face, a stark contrast to the heat engulfing the rest of your body.

“You belong to Dew?” He asks, out of breath.

The nod you give paints a smile across Phantom’s sweet face, a sinister grin. He tilts his head then, leaning in to whisper against your neck, “And you’re letting me fuck you?”

This wasn’t uncommon, not at all. It would actually be uncommon if the ghouls didn’t share each other within their pack. There were mates, there were recognized bonds, and still, sharing amongst the Siblings was a regular occurrence.

Nevertheless, Phantom got a kick out of making it taboo.

“Yeah,” Your blissful sigh slips from your parted lips, face plastered with an embarrassingly goofy grin.

Phantom’s gotten quite good at this - taking what he wants, finding his confidence in general but especially in bed. He’s learned a few tricks here and there and before anyone knew it, Phantom had grown his very own personality. You found him endearing, this sweet, naive ghoul. You’re the newest to be summoned and still, he retained his somewhat childlike nature, still seen as the baby of the pack. He often acted like a human teenager, and still does. Horny beyond belief and by far the most inexperienced. And while that may still be true, he now knows how to make it worth your while. Regardless of sex, though, you truly found comfort with him, and he was your safe place when Dew wasn’t within arm’s reach of you.

He has both hands on your hips, gripping you tight but keeping his claws at bay. His body is draped over your back, lean muscles flexing against your soft skin. And he has you from behind, one of his favorite positions. What originally started out with you on your hands and knees has ended up with you currently flat on your stomach, legs spread wide while Phantom humps himself between them with passion and vigor. And in the same breath, he’s still sweet, pressing his lips to the expanse of your upper back, the curve of your shoulder.

Twitching against your warmth, a shudder slips from Phantom’s chest, forcing him to nuzzle into the slope of your neck. Alongside that twitch comes an involuntary wave of his quintessence, prickling your skin and heightening your sensations.

”I want you,” He admits, whining in helpless frustration.

Endearing.

”Want you to be mine so bad, please.” His breaths are heavy, hands sliding from their place on his hips to wrap entirely around your midsection, shoving his hands between your skin and the bedspread. “So bad…”

”I am, baby.” Comes your sweet voice, sucking in a deep breath as you reach up and back. Your fingers find those longer strands of dark hair, curling ever so gently and pulling him impossibly close. And he leans into your movement, of course. “I’m here.” You whisper kindly once his cheek is touching yours, his breaths damp against your skin.

“Don’t tease me… you know what I mean.” The rare baritone to his voice is suddenly shown, a quiver briefly dancing across his upper lip. “Mine, mine.”

Of course, you know what he means. Phantom isn’t mated, and he’s had such puppy love for you since the day you crawled out of the Pit. Though, at the same time, you’re unconvinced of his plea. He’s just horny, that’s all it is.

He can hear and smell the wetness between your legs and it makes him feel fucking feral inside. The slap of his pelvis against your backside has been resonating off his bedroom walls for who knows how long at this point. You’d been doing your best to satisfy yourself, to not bother anyone while your mate was away. But enough was enough and when you finally found Phantom to give in, you just couldn’t stop.

Turning his head, Phantom’s mouth finds your own. His lips capture yours in a filthy meeting, shoving your head further down as his tongue forces its way into your mouth. Not that he really has to, you welcome him with open arms. You do, however, change the pace. Phantom lets you guide him after a moment, the fingers in his hair now petting gently at his scalp. Your kisses turn slow and messy, moans flowing sweetly into the other’s open mouth. His tongue slides against your own, his heat wafting over your features. Every now and then your lips will slide across each other’s, a silly giggle shared between the two of you then. He slows to firm thrusts now, too, grinding against your ass while he plays with the wet muscle in your mouth.

Your taste was something Phantom craved, your presence and warmth were traits he sought out on a daily basis. He loved to feel your soft body on his, loved to feel that slick stretch when he pushed himself in.

“Feels so good,” Comes his forceful whine, pretty purple eyes pinching shut. “Don’t ever leave.”

“Hm,” You giggle, eyes shut as you speak against his lips. “And what? Leave Dewy?” As if that were even possible considering your bond.

At that, Phantom’s eyes open slowly, staring down into your own. They scan your features once, a smirk playing on the very corner of his lips.

“We could always share.”

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Spiderman Society and Manipulation Part 1

Okay! I had been wanting to do this post for a while, while I don't think we can flat out call the Spiderman Society a cult, the reality is that the more you look at it, the more twisted and crazy the spider society becomes.

I had seen a lot of people complain about the spiders in the society (specially on Gwen,) of how they could let this happen and how could actually believe is a good idea to let people die. And I don't think a lot of these people realize that the organization is operating in a way that is made to manipulate people, and things are far more complicated that what you may realize.

I would estate now that a lot of the things that fall under Cult behaviours are kind of inevitable by the nature of the organization.

I also want to emphasize that I DON'T THINK MIGUEL IS EVIL, or is even aware of the damage he is doing by the way he is running this operation. I truly believe there is no one who believes more in this than him, and all he does is for the common good.

And he is so focused on that goal he doesn't realize the damage he is doing.

WARNING: The following discussion will involve talking about Cults, psychological manipulation, controlling behaviours and such. If you think these topics may be a trigger for you, please consider skipping this.

Levels of Information

It hasn't been flat out say, but you can see in the movie that there are levels to the amount of information each Spider has on the organization.

Pavitr is aware that the Spider's society duty is to stop villains and beings from other dimensions from breaking havoc; these people ended up there by accident and need to be contained and sent to their respective universes.

However, he also says "I can do both," meaning that he has to be unaware about living in a canon event, and most probably, the existence of canon events.

Hobie also, seems to be in a somewhat of an intermediate level.

Here, Hobie says how he actually doesn't have much of an idea of what's going on with the organization.

However, he does appear to know more than Pav and Miles.

Here Hobie confirms that he knows that Miles is an anomaly. At least that's the impression he gave me considering the circumstances.

Now, we need to balance a few possibilities here.

Hobie being aware of anomalies but not canon events isn't exactly the weirdest concept; anomalies are entities from another universes coming in, which is of course, not suppose to be normal occurrence in any universe. Miles being bitten by a spider from another dimension would make him an anomaly just for that alone.

Hobie didn't seem particularly surprised when the canon events conversation came up, but I can buy that 1) He knows how to hide his emotions well, which would make sense if his universe is anything similar to what it is in his comics, 2) He may had suspected something like this was going on with the information he has at hand.

This also makes sense with his character, because I am sorry but I really cannot believe Hobie knew Pav was going to go through something traumatic, and would just let Pavitr suffer. ESPECIALLY for something Miguel says.

There is the possibility that he knows about anomalies from Gwen and not the organization itself, this would track considering he has admitted that the only reason he has been hanging around is because he wants to look after Gwen; and probably Pavitr too. He seems to be the type of person who looks after more vulnerable, young people. Which is pretty punk of him.

I could also believe Gwen at least telling Hobie about anomalies, because they are close friends (FRIENDS, look I like this ghostpunk and other ships because I am like that, but in the movie is obvious Hobie just seems Gwen as a friend. Again, don't bother shippers.) And because Gwen would obviously be upset about not being able to visit Miles, and venting to Hobie (who for sure would not rat her to Miguel, and would understand her situation.) As well as explaining the reasoning of the situation.

Why would she explain that? Well, because she needs to justify this still making sense, being the good guys.

Remember, Gwen ended here not just because she wanted to be with other spiders, but because she thought her home wasn't safe anymore. She needs to justify this being worth it because she is a traumatized teen with not a lot of support and is trying to cope with it until the reality exploits her in the face.

But probably that's a conversation that is better for another day.

I don't think people are realize how absolutely TRUE this rings for Cults.

Independently if this is a religious or other type of cult (because yes, not all of them are religious;) something that tends to happen is that there are levels to what people know; and the longer and more loyal you are to a cult, the more they let you in.

In fact, the loyalty thing is sometimes more important than time; if they see you are committed enough to one level, they may let you in the next bit of information.

This is because most cults start trying to say pretty reasonably things, a lot of them involved the common good and the possibility of a better life; and then the more they convince you to some ideas, the more they let you in the crazy stuff that is actually underneath. And this is on purpose, because a lot of people wouldn't had stayed too long if they knew the bat shit crazy information from the get go.

So they intentionally manipulated you into thinking their side of things first, and then they try to become your new support network and community.

You wouldn't believe an stranger, but your new family, or I don't know, new organization, who welcomes you in when you have nowhere to go, and offer to guide you in a way you desperately wanted help but never had the chance- Why you wouldn't believe them?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is how you get cults like Scientology, where at first people only had a vague idea of what was going on, until some people got in deep enough to extract some information and reveal to the world how nuts a lot of this sounds.

Preying on those facing difficult times

I will probably had someone mad at me because this title and choosing this particular screenshoot can feel a bit like a reach, but hear me out.

Yes, I understand that neither Miguel nor Jess had bad intentions when they ask her to join, in fact Jess seemed fully worried about Gwen because she had no one.

But again, Jess and Miguel aren't in this to manipulate people for their evil schemes, they fully believe all of the philosophies they are preaching.

While Gwen's case is the most extreme (that we are aware of at least,) this really rings my alarm bells WAY too much if you ask me.

Because of things like this:

Say what you want about the commitment Miguel has with his mission, I am not saying saving the multiverse isn't important (though it would help if Miguel had bothered to double check his theory,) but if you talk to someone who has lived in an abusive household, ask exactly what it did for their mental health being afraid of fucking up because they may get you kick out.

(It's figurative speech, if you have the chance learn about it but don't ask anyone who isn't comfortable talking about the subject.)

Let me tell you something; living afraid of what would happen to you just for existing is not a walk in the park, and while I don't think Gwen is truly walking on eggshells with Miguel; it cannot be easy knowing in the back of your mind that if you mess up badly enough, you will end up in a place where you may risk ending in prison, being homeless, or that your mere presence may make someone you love die.

(After all, technically; ASM-90 can't happen if Spider-Gwen isn't there to fight anyone, right? Yeah I wonder what exactly Miguel would had done about that.)

You saw the amount of spider-people this society has, you also know how spider-man stories work; no freaking way Gwen is the only one in this situation. Maybe Gwen is the one who's situation is most at stake considering Miguel was already wary of her for her relationship with Miles; however I can't imagine that if let's say, a spider doesn't want to go along with a canon event, they wouldn't let them stay.

"But OP! Miguel is just trying to be practical, you can't pretend he let people stay if they are putting in risk the mission."

Yeah here is what I have to say to that: Is absolutely horrible to let this scenario exist in the first place.

There is plenty of resources here; the Spider Society HQ has a weird architecture that couldn't had been cheap, all because is made for spider-people in mind. The place is HUGE, he is on the surface world (because unless I see evidence of otherwise, I bet my laptop that the underworld city is where crime and people without too many resources need to go, for not being able to afford the surface.) Not to mention all the technology they have should open to more possibilities, right? If not health wise (Miguel's world is probably more medically advanced that the ones of many other spiders, for example.)

There is no way, resources couldn't be use to help other spiders. I say it before, I find ludicrous that Jess, Miguel or someone else couldn't talk some sense into Captain Stacy. Or that someone could be supporting Gwen better in an emotional sense, because that poor teen needs some type of parental figure in her life and none of them have interest in it. Which again, is fine, but if you know there is this issue, as an adult who decided to take this teen, you should find someone willing to do it!

I do not give a shit that they are super heroes, is plain as day that Gwen has issues, and is looking for someone older and wiser to be there for her; I am not saying Jess should had done it because I can't blame her for not wanting that role, but if you can't do it and for some reason can't talk some sense into his dad, find someone!

Yes, there is a psych spider-man, but that is clearly not doing enough. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if the guy wasn't even good (like I get that he is a spidey and that he hears these stuff constantly, but imagine telling something that is traumatic to you, and your psych can't give less of a shit or even be sensible about the subject.)

They have these people in a choke hold, either obey, or you would get kicked out to horrible conditions.

I had been reading a few comics; Gwen's world SUCKS, if her world is half as bad as it is in the comics, I wouldn't want her going back, period. Peni also has some horrible circumstances; (her situation is better in the after school saga, but still.) I can't imagine how many others are in this exact boat.

Because is not just that this place is providing a safe heaven for Spiders, is also a community.

Spider-people tend to be lonely, a lot of them are in worlds where they are the only super hero, keeping this a secret for the safety of their love ones.

So you are telling these people who are normally abused in some way or another, who suffer from the loneliness of this job; that unless they behave and obey, they will lose the only community where they can be themselves, where they can ask for help, or have a place to rest.

And I can already see people typing angrily about the multiverse and it's well being, and let me put it this way: In the real world, if an organization (not just a company, but charities and such,) ends up having a work space that puts an unnecessary level of stress and fear for the people in it; wouldn't you be mad about it?

So why exactly I shouldn't want Miguel, someone that should be a good guy, care for the people that he has under his command? Wouldn't make sense that the people that need to take care of the multiverse are doing mentally well, considering that putting that type of strain in someone can also affect how they do their job effectively?

"But Miguel is not thinking about those things, he is focused to the cause! He just has his priorities, and wants his subordinates to understand how important is this too."

Hmm. So what I am hearing is that Miguel wants everyone to be ready to let whoever is necessary die, if not kill (because you cannot tell me Miguel "I don't always like what I have to do." O' Hara hasn't done it.) And leave everything behind for the cause, no feelings involved; and wants teens and young people who had no business being this pressured to do it as well.

Yeah this is not the argument you think it is. There is enough money, resources and people that there is no way this couldn't be run better, but is not.

But I feel I had gone long enough without bringing other sources into the table; so let's start with that shall we?

Understanding Cults: The Basics - Psychology Today

Isn't an interesting coincidence how this fits EXACTLY what happened to Gwen, to a T?

Is approached to, not even shown interested in joining on her own. Look at that screenshot from earlier, Gwen says "I don't know how to fix this," she wants to fix THIS, the things with her dad, to make her situation less messy.

She doesn't know what she is getting into, she doesn't even know that she will not be able to visit Miles yet. Much less canon and all that jazz.

Think about it for a second, Miguel sees a teen who has her own dad try to SHOOT HER, and what he sees is "well, another recruit." Tell me that it isn't a bit fucked up.

You could try to argue that Miguel offered his place so she could have a shelter, except that no, that's not what happens.

This happens after her dad already tried to shoot her, he may had stopped it, but he wasn't interested in recruiting her, not even after Jess is trying to convince him to let her in.

You know what happens? She says "I don't know how to fix this."

That's the catalyst.

I thought of finding a way to explain how, but honestly someone did a MUCH better job than me already.

Miguel's DESTRUCTIVE Idea of "SPIDER-MAN"

If anyone is bothered by me not leaving the explanation behind Miguel's reasoning, is because this conversation isn't about Miguel's mental health and reasoning. Because that's not excuse for this mess regardless.

The point is: Miguel wants people to help him fix this mess, and even if the logical conclusion here would be helping her out with her situation rather than just include her into this mess; Miguel isn't thinking about that.

I will not say is malicious in any way, heck he may think he is doing her a favour like this, but that's another problem, not an excuse. He is so focused on his goal that he leaves behind the well-being of his subordinates.

Which is a problem, by any measure you want to give it.

Let's go back to the sources shall we?

With this at hand, let's review

Do they enlist people without giving the entire story of what's is going on and deceptive ideas? Yes.

Because they enlist people saying they need them to help save more people and the universe, WITHOUT mentioning that some of YOUR love ones need to die.

I feel on this angle, I had already mentioned enough in the rest of the post.

It is authoritarian, with a leader that is controlling? Well what if we see the evidence?

Look how many angles he has here, is not even all of them, there was another with Gwen in another shot. I am not sure what type of camera or device he is using for this, but wouldn't you find it disturbing if your boss had THIS amount of footage of you while walking on your company?

It gets worse.

He is spying them in their downtime.

You could make the argument he had the right to watch over Gwen because she was technically on duty at that moment (it doesn't make it less creepy and honestly unless you are like a cop, I can't imagine too many jobs where is a good idea to have something record what you do at any moment.)

Except that you can see in the superior corner, that he has a video of Hobie playing; he doesn't have his mask so this is clearly not a mission. He is spying on people even OFF the clock.

Do any of you seriously think is a coincidence he did this with Gwen and Hobie, the "problematic" spideys?

Do you think Gwen and Hobie even know to the degree they are being watched?

(Sidenote, Miguel apparently has been looking over Hobie, yet seems unaware that he is making his own watches apparently, and maybe to which extend he steals. Hobie is so smart he fooled Miguel just like that. Another reason why Hobie is the best.)

You know something that bothers me about this? Is why is Gwen asking this?

Gwen is supposedly in the loop, she knows about canon, she knows about the ASM-90, but she is asking this, as if she hasn't been given that hard proof either.

Which goes back to the lack of transparency, but for this part of the discussion, the important thing is what Miguel does next.

Doesn't answer her question, menacingly towers over her until she almost falls back, and then kicks her out.

Do you notice the interesting part about this? He wasn't planning to sent her home, until she QUESTIONED his logic.

It wasn't about she going to see Miles, it wasn't about messing up with the spot; if it was about that he would had decided to get rid of her earlier, even the second she spoke her mind would had justified it, making it remember she was there.

Yet is not until she asks that, that suddenly Miguel decides this is enough.

Wouldn't you call that authoritative?

Let's go to the next part, the disrupt of personality; because maybe you think that's definitely not the case. Well...

You may read this and not think too much about it, but again, when you had been looking into cults and similar stuff before, this starts siren bells in your head as if he was talking about a doomsday.

Miguel is emphasizing how being Spider-man involves sacrifice, it involves pain and losing love ones. And you need to be okay with that.

You can see with Miguel that he prioritizes the job above everything else, he says that much himself really. And he expects everyone else to prioritize it too.

Sure, Peter is a loving father with clearly time for his daughter, Jess is pregnant; but you cannot tell me that if a canon event involved Peter losing his daughter, or Jess losing her kid; Miguel would say something different.

He expects people to follow canon events no matter how painful it is, and his justification for it is that it is part of the job that you signed for, so you need to be okay with this.

Because being a spider-person and the job should be above all else, don't you think that involves forcing an identity onto you so you obey better? Because you are first spider-woman over being Gwen Stacy, for example?

Tell me how much of this applies to the Spider Society, because for what I had gathered? None of this is allowed.

People aren't allowed to interact with who they want (like Gwen being obviously forbidden of seeing Miles,) if you question the leadership you may be kicked out; not complete information until you had proven trustworthy or there is no other choice.

And something interesting about all of this, is that is technically not just preying on the people with difficult circumstances like Gwen, though that is bad enough. But funnily enough...this all also uses the trauma and guilt of its eldest members to justify their actions.

BUT, I think that would go better with a part 2! I feel the topic while part of this discussion, deserves it's own post, specially since I will talk a bit about why I think Miguel believes so far in this theory, even if the evidence shows is flawed.

Look, I really, REALLY, don't want to call the Spider Society a cult; I don't even think the writers had that in mind when they did this; they just wanted to show that Miguel was flawed.

And is for sure, not as bad as other things that I had seen, things that had happened in real life.

However, this isn't a good look, this organization checks way too many boxes, enough to effectively give psychological damage; I can assure if this wasn't a super hero movie Gwen and other people will have to go through therapy for this. Heck even if this trilogy has a happy ending I wouldn't be surprised if the people need some psychological help once they realize they did horrible shit for nothing.

I feel there is another things, minor details that could qualify, but those feels almost nitpicky and inconsequential compared to the rest, and what some of what is left..

I don't think I need to give more reasons anyways; the Spider Society is harmful to their people, feel free to think otherwise but I cannot see an operation with this many red flags and not call it how I see it.

I don't know what's worse, this, or the fact that is not the worse thing I think Miguel has done.

But that's everything for now! Hope you guys like it, and if you have the chance, please donate on my ko-fi or share this post!

[phdmama]

A small piece of writing...

(Possibly to be archived later, but it feels appropriate to share here.)

I wrote this years ago. This is the epilogue to a longer Larry fic that I started but have never finished. It's a plot-heavy fic, soul bonds, psychic Harry and medium Louis, reincarnation, past lives, etc. I am not sure I'll ever finish it, but this epilogue capture something about life and death that I really, truly believe. I just revisited it and I want to share it with my fellow fans. This fandom brought me writing, and well. Here's one more little Larry thing from me.

I don't think you really need to know anything more about the story for this to make sense? I hope not. This is technically major character death because it's life after death but it's about the life part. Really it's about the eternal nature of love.

This is for all of us, but especially for Liam.

Louis slowly swims to wakefulness and opens his eyes, confused as to where he is. Fluorescent lights that are currently off, the grey of pre-dawn through the window, white sheets, white ceiling, white walls. Hospital then, not his little condo at the assisted living facility. The light in the room has an odd cast to it, and the sounds around him are muffled, as if he’s underwater. He yawns and stretches, noting that for the first time in years, well, decades maybe, his shoulder doesn’t do that painful popping thing. In fact. He sits up, wiggling around. He feels better than no pain, he feels great.

Louis carefully slides out of the bed and stands, and it’s not until he’s almost to the door that he registers the crowd around his bed, that he must have just walked through, but he... didn’t even see them. Weird. There’s Charlie and Mika, there’s Alice and James and Sophie. The grandkids are all there too, JJ with his arm tucked around each of the twins, Rose and Maddie. Michael, his hair is deep and lovely blue this month, Louis notes with a grin, and Nessa, the youngest, with her shining blond curls and vibrant green eyes that she’d inherited from her Granddaddy.

The mood in the room is somber, Louis can tell. Stoic Charlie’s mouth is drawn, while Alice cries softly as James rubs her back and Sophie clutches her hand. The normal “joyful noise,” as Louis has called it for 50 years, is absent. Louis knows this is odd, knows he should be concerned, but he can’t quite connect to that feeling. There's only to the urgent sense that he’s got somewhere else, somewhere important to be.

Then he sees it happen, the doctor in the corner reaches over and flips off the heart monitor that has, Louis notes absently, flat-lined. There’s a shuffle of movement, and the group around the bed parts for a moment, and oh. Oh, there it is, his old body, looking smaller and frailer on the bed than Louis remembers feeling. He looks down at the body he’s in; it feels strong and sure, familiar and solid. 

He looks at his family, and notes something odd. In some of their faces, he sees something almost flickering and shifting. In Charlie, Louis catches a glimpse that reminds him of the pictures of Harry’s dad. In Michael, he sees something of Stan, his childhood friend, lost far too soon. Oddly enough, in the doctor standing somberly in the corner, he sees the shadow of his grandfather who’d died when he was a baby. And Nessa. His breath catches in his throat, because Nessa has turned, and is looking directly at him where he’s standing, paused, with his hand on the door handle, and she’s watching him with his mother’s eyes. How had he never seen that? Nessa is staring straight at him, and then when she sees him looking back, her whole face lights up in her trademark Nessie smile.

“I love you, Grandpapa.” She says the words loud and clear, and the others turn to look, first at her and then at where she’s staring. “It’s okay, Papa, you can go. We love you, we’ll always love you. I’ll miss you, Papa, but it’s time to go.” She makes a little shooing motion with her hands and then blows him a kiss, which Louis pretends to catch and presses to his heart. Her smile wavers as the tears start and then she whispers, “Tell Grandaddy I love him, okay?”

Louis can’t answer her, knows somehow that there’s no way he can speak to her from where he is now, but knows too, that the words don’t matter when he can see the love shimmering in the air, filling the room. The light around them gets brighter as he looks at his family and smiles, and blows Nessa a kiss back, their tradition since she was a tiny child.

The twins have moved to flank her now, and they’re smiling through their tears as well, and then the entire family starts doing that ridiculous two-handed wave that they’ve always done when they’ve sent one of their own off into the world. 

Louis waves one last time, and then turns away. It’s time to go.

He opens the door to the hospital room and steps out — onto the back porch of the old house on the Lake, where Charlie and Mika live now. He sees Alex, one of their majestic, siamese cats curled up on the couch, and drags his fingers through her fur as he passes. She stirs, blinks sleepily up at him in acknowledgement, and then stretches languidly.

He passes through the screen door and walks quickly down the steps, the sense that he’s headed in the right direction solidifying within him, and then when he looks down to the lake and sees who's standing there, he starts to run, marveling at the strength in this body, the way his muscles contract and release as he races towards the water.  No pain, no aches, just fluid motion.

Harry turns, and Louis feels his heart overflow at the vision standing before him. Harry looks to be about 30, his body tall and broad, his face unlined, and when he sees Louis, his eyes light up as he opens his arms, and Louis crashes into him with the force of a tidal wave, wrapping himself around the love of his life, gone these last nine years.

Not gone, though, Louis understands now. When Harry had died, mercifully quick after the diagnosis, Louis had wondered if he’d linger, but he hadn’t seen him, only the occasional sign that Harry was popping in. But now, here they are, reunited.

Harry’s calloused fingers trail across Louis’s cheek and then his hand cups Louis’ face, and he leans down, and presses a fervent kiss to Louis’ mouth.

“You’re here,” he breathes, and tips his head down in that familiar way to rest his forehead against Louis’, “You’re finally here.”

“I’m here,” Louis agrees, hearing the joy in his own voice and he kisses Harry again, because he can. “Err,” he says after another long moment, “Where is here, exactly?”

“Oh,” Harry looks around him and grins, “This is a way station, it’s one of the places where the... barrier, I guess you’d call it, is thinner, so lots of people come here to....” His voice trails off for a moment as he chooses his words. “Where people come to decide.”

“Decide what?” Louis asks, a bit confused.

“Decide if they’re ready to move on,” Harry says, as if this is obvious and all of a sudden, it is. Louis remembers back to one of those first conversations with Harry, a lifetime ago now, and how Harry had explained to him his understanding of the purpose of life on earth. It’s a spiritual boot camp of sorts, Harry had said, We’re here to learn to live in love, to learn to let go of fear.

“Is there, I don’t know, like, a judge or something?” Louis asks, looking around. The water of the lake is clear, and even though he knows it’s February, there’s no snow on the ground, just the lush green of late Spring, and he’s not in the slightest bit cold, even though he’s wearing the skinny jeans that he’d loved when he was young, that haven’t been in fashion for years, decades maybe, and a t-shirt. 

Harry laughs and shakes his head, “No, it’s not needed, because no one chooses to move on unless they’re ready. God, Louis, I have so much to tell you, so much to show you.”

“Wait,” Louis says, “Have you been here,” he gestures around them at the familiar yard, the orchard off in the distance in full blossom, “the whole time?”

Harry laughs and Louis almost starts to cry because it’s been so long, too long since he’s heard his love’s voice. “No, baby, I didn’t stay. I wanted to, but it was time for me to move on, so I did, but I’m back to guide you, to go with you. We’re soulmates, Louis, we’re destined to be together, not only in this life that you’ve just left, but every other life as well. We’ve always been together, baby.”

He grins, the wind ruffling his curls under the ridiculous hat he’s wearing and Louis takes a deep breath, the habits of living die hard, he thinks to himself with a laugh. 

“Oh,” he says suddenly, “Before I forget, as I was leaving, Nessa told me to tell you she loves you. She’s missed you a lot.”

Harry’s face softens and his eyes shimmer. “She saw you, didn’t she? When you left that body, the gift transferred to her, just like it came to you when your Great Uncle Charlie died.”

Louis nods and says, his voice husky, “She told me it was okay to go, and then goddamn but if the entire family didn’t do that stupid wave.”

Harry barks out a laugh, tears still shining. “Of course they did. We did good, baby. No doubt about that.”

“So,” Louis looks around again, noticing now that there are others around them, some ignoring them completely, but a few are paying attention, standing a respectful distance to give them some privacy in their reunion. He looks more closely and then sees, standing a bit further away, a group of three men together, talking and laughing as they wait. 

“Oh god,” he whispers to Harry even as he grabs his hand to tug him down the beach towards them, “Is that them?”

The men turn and then Niall calls out, “Louis” and they come together in a tight embrace. “Couldn’t let this one come by himself to fetch you.” 

The other two men are as familiar to Louis as his own family, even though he’s only known them in dreams, and hasn’t seen them in 70 years. Niall releases him and he turns to them, and as one, they reach for him, draw him in, and Louis can feel the warmth in their hug.

“Zayn, Liam,” he says breathlessly, “You’re here. What are you doing here?”

Liam smiles and finally, Louis hears his voice for the first time. “We’re soul bonded, Louis, the five of us are soul bonded to each other. Now that you’re here and ready, we’re all moving on together. We’ll talk more about it on the way.”

Louis nods, and realizes that he’s feeling once more that sense of urgency, as well as the certainty that he’s learned here what he needs to know. It’s not an anxiety that he’s late or is going to miss it, whatever it is, he thinks, but more that it’s that deep anticipation, like being a kid early on Christmas morning, or waiting for the bell to ring on the last day of school before summer vacation. That thrill, that certainty, that there’s something amazing just around the corner, something that he’s spent his whole life catching a glimpse of out of the corner of his eye, and now he’s almost there, and he just can’t wait.

He squeezes Liam and Zayn one more time before letting them go, grins at Niall and then turns to Harry, holding out his hand.

Harry grabs it, and they give each other a quick squeeze in that old sign to each other, I’m here, I’m with you, I’m not leaving without you.

“Okay,” he says a bit breathlessly, “What now?”

Harry points to the pier and Louis sees now that there’s a small sailboat waiting at the end of it.

“If you’re ready,” Harry says, “We can go.”

The five men make their way down the weathered pier, and climb on board. Harry leads Louis to the front of the boat, while Niall calls out orders to Zayn and Liam, who move with practiced ease around the craft, loosening the lines and getting ready to depart. Niall starts the small motor, as Harry and Louis settle themselves on the cushioned bench.

The boat starts slowly, pulling away from the dock, and Louis looks back one last time, watches the house recede on the shore as they move further out onto the lake. The engine cuts out as Liam raises the sail, and the boat begins to pick up speed. Harry wraps an arm around Louis and pulls him even closer, dropping a kiss onto his head, and they turn as one, away from the past, facing forward as the boat soars across the water.

If you had been on the beach that day, you wouldn’t have seen any of this. You wouldn’t have seen the boat moving away from the shore, sails billowing as she took flight. You wouldn’t have heard the sounds of laughter and conversation as old friends reunited, the joy in each other's company readily apparent. You wouldn’t have seen the flash of light as the boat disappeared off the edge of the horizon, and you wouldn’t have heard Harry speak, the love in his voice palpable.

“I’ve missed you, Lou. Welcome home.”

[auroracalisto]

day #15: angst - emotions around the holidays

victor zsasz x gn!reader, 1.2k words a/n: holidays are weird. i either love them or i hate everything about them. the older i get, the more i dislike it. possibly ooc victor, but you and vic are partners so he's gotta be good to you sometimes, right?

Have you ever felt like the world was going to crash around you? Like you'd truly invoke the mediocracies of the universe, and they'd finally grant you a chance to claim that the sky was truly falling around you (much like Chicken Little)?

Of course you do.

You're living it right now. There isn't a single present under your Christmas tree that hadn't frustrated you to no end. You only had the tree because Victor had insisted on it. In fact, he decorated it while you were asleep one night (you assume he had one of the Zsaszettes with him, though, because it was rather beautifully decorated—not that Zsasz was incapable).

It was just the holiday season in general.

You hated every minute of it. The cheery music, the happy smiles, Santa, the elves. Anything holiday related, anything at all, it angered you to no end.

Or maybe... maybe it wasn't truly anger, but just... frustration. Grief.

Anger that when you became an adult, the holidays didn't stay the same. Anger that when you finally had the money to buy gifts for people, they always fell flat. Someone always hated it, or you ended up regretting it the moment your bank account withdrew the money for said gift. Even making a gift didn't have the same effect anymore. It took so much time—time you didn't have.

And don't even get me started on the cooking and baking and cleaning after everything. It was like just having a Christmas tree sucked in all the dust, making everything impossible to actually clean. And cooking? Lord, if you had to cook for a party, you think you'd die.

It was so overwhelming, and it shouldn't be.

You should be able to go home, go to your family, and have a perfect little Christmas.

But you couldn't.

No.

You were an adult, in the big city, with nothing but your assassin boyfriend and your shitty apartment.

You couldn't go back to how Christmases used to be. You couldn't go back to Santa Claus coming down the chimney and the reindeer "leaving" glitter after eating the reindeer food you'd make for them in elementary school. The elves didn't have their magic. The season lost its magic.

The music was grating. The weather was cold and biting at your ankles.

Nothing was simple anymore, and it hurt. It genuinely frustrated you to no end. Not because it was Christmas, really, but because it was no longer the same.

You were all grown up, and you'd never be able to return to the Christmas you once had.

The sky may have truly been falling around you now, but no one would believe you.

You sat on your sofa, head resting in your hands as your elbows dug into the meat of your thighs. You looked towards the burning candle on your coffee table, blinking slowly.

You knew wishes wouldn't come true, but a part of you wished to go back.

As you remained stuck in your mind, Victor made his way over to you. He must have just gotten home—didn't make a lot of noise, either.

He placed a hand on your back as he plopped down beside of you. He hadn't even changed out of his gear. As you looked at him, you could see blood on his cheek and his gun still in the sling. You said nothing.

He frowned at you. "You alright?" he softly asked.

You shrugged. Were you? You didn't know.

What would you even tell him if he asked what was wrong with you?

He sighed and leaned back on the sofa cushions, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Bein' all mopey, huh? You could watch a movie. Get a milkshake. Have some spirits or somethin'."

"Nah," you softly said.

"Nah?"

"I don't feel like it."

He scoffed. "Don't feel like it? What's up with you, doll?"

You shrugged, again.

He stared you down for a moment before he rolled his eyes and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "I'm gonna go change. When I come back, you better be ready to watch a movie, yeah?"

You scrunched your nose. "Yeah."

But while he was gone, you only dug yourself into a deeper hole. One that you were afraid you wouldn't be able to bounce back from by the time he returned.

You curled up on the sofa, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around yourself.

When he came back and saw you, he fought back a sigh. It had been a long day working with the Penguin, and he knew this would just make it longer. Whatever was up with you, he knew it wasn't anything good.

He walked back over to you, forcing you to move your legs so he could sit beside of you. When he sat down, he let your legs rest on top of his thighs.

"Talk to me," he said.

"There's nothing to talk about," you said.

He rolled his eyes. "Bullshit," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

His eye twitched as he looked at you. "You're full of shit," he said, upper lip raising as he spoke. "Come on. Talk to me or I'll make you."

That you knew he would. You sighed softly and rubbed your eyes for a moment before you spoke.

"Do we have to celebrate Christmas?"

He stared you down. "What?"

"I don't want to celebrate it."

"Why not? I thought you liked Christmas. Kind of the whole reason I got you a tree."

You frowned deeply, fingers grabbing at the soft blanket still over top of you. You shrugged.

He said your name warily, narrowing his eyes.

"I just—I don't like it."

"You don't like Christmas?"

"No."

"You don't like Christmas, or are you just in one of your episodes where you hate everything?"

You grumbled under your breath. "No, I—"

"—it's not gonna be the same, you know."

You paused, glancing up at him.

He sighed. "It'll be different. You gotta make it how you want it to be now."

"What do you mean?"

"I know that look," he said. For an assassin boyfriend, he was being quite... nice tonight. He wasn't always this kind. "You hate it because it's different, don't you?"

You shrugged.

"It's different now. Doesn't mean it has to be bad."

You frowned once more. "But... I mean... I want it to be the same."

He raised a non-existent eyebrow. "It's not gonna be. You just gotta accept that and move on."

You looked away from him, glancing at the tree again.

"Make the most of what you have, now," Victor said, reaching forward and squeezing your thigh. "If you really want to skip it, we can, but I think we could figure out something else."

You gave a small nod. He had a point. Even if you hadn't told him everything, taking one step at a time would be best. You could figure it out in the long run—figure out how the rest of the holiday would make you feel as time went on.

"Now," Victor said. "Movie time."

"Victor," you said, groaning softly. "Nothing weird."

"Christmas Vacation."

You scrunched your nose. "I just said—"

"—yeah, well, get over yourself," he said, grabbing the remote. "Maybe it'll get you into the Christmas spirit."

"It won't," you defensively said.

He rolled his eyes. "Do I look like I fuckin' care?"

[countrymusiclover]

1 - The Arrangement

Part 2

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons

When I was a child I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that one day I would find myself tangled in the claws of both a Lion and Wolf......

Monterys Velaryon, a name that every young child knew of our house before my grandparents died. He was declared the heir to Driftmark at only the age of six and got control of an entire fleet of ships and sea. The name doesn't truly live alive to this day...except for the fact that I exist as the only true born child. My father only was with one noble girl but she died giving birth to me.

But in this world women don't get any claim to a household

Walking through the castle hallways I was lost in my own thoughts about our current situation. It was declared that House Velaryon was to no longer have any high power when House Baratheon took the Iron Throne from the Targaryen.  So we had a small castle that was near the same sea that brushed up against Dragonstone that was also claimed by the Stag house too.

Footsteps came running down towards me when I stopped to peek out one of the windows. "! There you are. I went into your chambers but couldn't find you."

"You know I don't care about being stuck up in the same rooms all the time." I responded leaning my back against the wall responding to my lady in waiting who was also my best friend, Chezney Ally.

She became close to me since she had lost her mother at a later age then I did. Unfortunately I never got to know who she was. Chezney had dark brown hair pinned up into two braids while she wore a light blue dress to match our house colors. "You're not trapped here, ."

"Really. Let's think about this shall we." I tapped my chin with my index finger in thought. "I live in a castle that is only surrounded by sea and the only way I will ever be forced to never see this place again is if I wed off to some snob lord far far away."

Chezney sends me a raised brow. "Don't say that you could be wed to a young lord who is actually nice to you."

"Pfft I doubt that. But anyway, what were you wanting me for exactly?" I questioned my friend.

She clasped her hands together. "Since you're not busy with ridiculous lessons can we go swimming off the castle."

"Absolutely you know I love the thrill." I nodded in agreement where we both ran through the hallways. I wasn't wearing flat dress shoes like she was. I was wearing riding boots with a knee length sea blue tunic shirt that was big enough on me it looks like a dress.

Chezney swings opened the door that led to one of the boat docks that was just a little high above the water. She ran to the edge not caring about her clothes get wet when she hit down into the sea. "Come on, !" She cheered, pooping her head above water.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear I ran forward and hugged my knees to my chest. I hit the water and felt my hair that was in a braid slightly fall apart. "If I ever have a husband they better be fun or I'm running away." I swam up taking a breath once my head is out of water.

"And I'll come with you if they allow that." She replied, grinning at me.

Splashing some water playfully in her direction I laughed. "Of course I'll allow it and if they don't then I'll find a way to make them."

"Yeah I know you will. Uh oh they found us." Chezney splashed some water back at me looking over my shoulder and her smile dropped.

Turning around in the water I glared at the young guard my father had assigned to me for my protection since he was always busy with being Lord of the Tides. "What are you doing here, Antler!"

"You're wanted by the small council, My lady." He bowed with the wind catching his dark brown curly locks.

Shaking my head I grumbled. "What could they want with me? And tell whoever is asking that I am spending time with my friend."

"I don't think that will fair over with your father, Lady Haelesa ." Antler gulped in a slight nervous tone. "For he is the one asking for your presence at the time."

"I better go. Can't keep daddy waiting I suppose." I swam away and Chezney followed after me. We didn't bother changing into dry clothes since he clearly wanted to see me right this second.  Tying my boot laces back properly I sighed following Antler through the dark hallways. The castle was usually cold during nighttime but during the day the ocean wind wasn't unbearable. I honestly enjoyed the taste of sea more than most did and that's saying something since we're all raised to be able to handle sea life. The three of us finally halted outside a set of large double doors where Antler knocked three times signaling we were there.

The doors opened and I stepped inside seeing my father's lord advisors and him sitting around a circle table. The doors were shut behind me where I felt slightly nervous since Antler and Chezney were left outside in the hall. "Leave me alone to speak with my daughter now." My father Monterys declared getting to his feet.

"What did you want to talk to me about, father?" I questioned softly under my breath.

His eyes locked on mine. "It has come to my attention that our house is almost gone. Our heirs are either dying out or are Bastards by my only living son. That needs to change before we're gone forever."

"Change how?" I nervously asked him.

My father rounded the table and came to stand in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he spoke out. "It is past time you were wed, ."

"What...no." Immediately came from my mouth.

He lowers his gaze. "This isn't up for discussion, dear. It must happen to save our house and name."

"That's not right, father.  Something shouldn't just be done because it's been done for a thousand years and no one else has had the balls to change the tradition!" I snapped at my father in disbelief.

He drops his hands from my shoulders. "Watch your tone. You are my daughter and you will serve your house like your mother did before she died."

"If the only way I will ever see the rest of the world is through a ridiculous marriage then I have one condition. Chezney comes with me to whatever house you're sending me to for the rest of my life." I suggested to him with my hands on my hips.

The lord of the tides paused in thought watching me closely then finally replying. "Fine. I'll inform Lord Tywin of the response.....just remember where you come from my dear girl."

"The Old, the True, the Brave." I mumbled back to him when he started to walk away from me until I realized what he had said to me. "Wait a second you said Tywin Lannister?"

My father looked over his shoulder. "Yes I did. Tywin of House Lannister. You are to wed his eldest son Jaime. You will be sailed to Kings Landing and from there the wedding should take place within a fortnight."

"But isn't Jaime a member of the Kingsguard? He took the oath. He can't marry or bear children with anyone. He would be exactly like my brother." Listing off my fingers, this wasn't making sense anymore.

Lord Monterys moved back and sat down in his lord chair. He ran a hand over his chin in silence. I knew that he had a lot of weight on his shoulders and I was probably making it worse. Yet I had all the time in the world to read up on all the houses and history that we had gotten from Dragonstone. "Tywin has assured me that he was removed of his white cloak by King Robert Baratheon. The man who now seats the Iron Throne. So you shouldn't be worried about such matters. Now go back and start packing your leaving in a few days."

"Okay...I still love you father." Pausing in my step just beside the double doors I eyed my father in his chair figuring this would be the last time I saw him.

He sends me a grin. "I love you too, ."

The day for me to leave my family home had finally come to pass. The whole castle staff had been gathering supplies and getting the ship prepared that would go to King's Landing. Gazing out the window I just sat on the windowsill listening to the sea hit against the castle as best as I could. There was no guarantee that we would immediately go to Casterly Rock so this comforting sound needs to be my last memory of home. ", can I come in?" Chezney's voice broke me from the silence.

"It's open, Chez." I answered her, seeing her peak her head inside.

She shut the door with her foot behind her. "Antler sent me to inform you that everything is ready. We just need to get you dressed to go."

"I'm not wearing a tight dress on that boat. It doesn't matter if I'm marrying the wealthiest family in the seven kingdoms, I will be comfortable for as long as I can." I responded to my friend watching her go over to my chest of clothes and shoes searching around for what we could pick.

Sliding down from the seel my bare feet hit the wooden floor until I snagged my boots on. Tying the laces I stood upright. "Okay so let's do one of your brother's old tunics that he grew out of." Chezney draws out some dark blue trousers with a sea blue tunic.

"Can you do the braid your mother taught you?" I asked her to sit down at the window once I had changed my clothes for the trip.

She nodded beginning on the braid. "I heard some of the kitchen staff gossiping about the man you're to marry. They said that Jaime is supposed to be so handsome and the best swordsman in the kingdoms."

"Looks and sword skill aren't all that should define a person. From what I read about the Lannister's they throw gold at all their problems. It's the decisions that someone makes that matters." I rolled my eyes when she finished the braid, letting my silver-blonde hair over my right shoulder.

Chezney shakes her head. "Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll find your right person before your wedding." We clasped hands and left the castle with my father accompanying us on the journey. I don't really remember much of the trip. It was just a lot of sea and not many nights of proper sleep before we were woke to see a much warmer climate and a large populated city unlike what I was used to.

One of the Baratheon guards helped me out of the boat when we ported it to land. My gaze shifted around recognizing the certain king and his queen that was Jaime's twin sister Cersei. "Lady Velaryon, here I thought that your house was gone for good. And all the material with your name had been forged into weapons." Someone remarked in my direction where my gaze shifted across the crowd of people.

I finally stopped searching when I met a second pair of green eyes and blonde hair that fell almost down to his shoulders. And a sword attached to his hip. "Jaime Lannister, I presume."

"The one and only, my lady." He smirked at me smugly.

Putting one hand on my hip I flipped my hair out of my face, getting the sense that I was right about what I read about this family. "Well, be careful, Lannister. My house may not be as known as yours. But I may surprise you and everyone here." Jaime smirked still down at me before I took a bow in front of him and Chezney just quietly smiled at our interaction knowing this was not going to be an easy arrangement.

Comments really appreciated ❤️