#I'm not mad about Will because to me he wasn't ever the same character as Bill

[pixiesholloworld]

✭୨୧˚LIKE SHAY SHAY!˚୨୧✭

synopsis⟿ after a heated argument with your boyfriend sukuna, he tries to smooth things out by treating you to something special…

not proofread and kinda shitty

sukuna was really passionate about being with you.. like over the top passionate he fell for you almost instantly when he saw you for the first time at the grocery store, his eyes tracing your curves taking note on how they hugged up on your tube top and tiny little shorts. He tried to play it cool, not saying too much of anything, you thought he was kind of corny because of it but it was cute. so of course when you gave this mysterious beefcake a chance he wouldn't spare a single second not doting after you.

you heard the way he talked to others- how he spoke to them like they were below him, you knew how he pushed his way to the top of his job, selling drugs, guns, and many many other "services". he knew how to get his way with others whether it was by force or reason, more importantly how he wasn't ever up for being the bigger person— all that matters to him is being able to prove a point. sukuna wasn't one for high roads when it came to other people.. but you?

oh you had him whipped, its honestly a shock to anyone how a crybaby like you ended up with such a brute man. though anytime he did happen to upset you he immediately apologizes in his own aggressive yet gentle way, willing to go above and beyond just to get in your good graces again. its so out of character for him to care about a person this much, so much so that his friends are convinced you did some type of voodoo on him, forcing him to act right or else. so when you left to work in the midst of a heated argument you weren't surprised to see that he had — yet again — sent a bouquet of your favorite flowers with a note:

"take off and i’ll make it up to you doll

i pinky promise"

you scoff at his appealing message, moving the flowers to the backroom of your job. who does he think he is? sending you flowers when you're clearly upset with him, does ignoring his first 50 calls mean nothing? with his perfect handwriting and perfect attention to detail. i guess dating a jailbird had its perks..

"trouble in paradise again?" your coworker snickers.

you roll your eyes and stuff the note in your pocket, you had another 7 hours here and you weren't going to let sukuna seduce you out of a well earned paycheck.. even IF he would've paid you double the amount to go home to him. but if sukuna had to admit it that same level of pettiness is exactly why he's with a woman like you

—

later that night you drove home, exhausted, hungry and still angry, you turn the keys to your apartment to see sukuna pulling pizza out the oven, its almost as if he read your mind. you drag yourself over to your shared room plopping on the bed, trying to relax and push your angry thoughts down but it all washes away when a familiar warmth creeps upon your back "hey sweet lady" his husky voice cutting though the tension and shooting right through your heart. you hated being mad at him but you couldn't help it how could he forget about the ONE thing that upsets you the most?! you pull away from his touch curling up into a ball

"awh don't be like that doll"

"you yelled at me.." you mumble through a choked up throat. he curls up against you, his thumb circling your temple. You loved how warm he felt on your back and it was nice that he remembers your love language even if you are being a bit unreasonable. anytime sukuna raises his voice just a smidge you get all teary eyed "so that's what this is all about?" he hums, pulling you closer to him by your waist, "i'm sorry sweetie-"

you cut him off, just wanting to say what you didn't have the words to say earlier, "i just don't understand why you have to work so late," you pull his large hand off of your head and hold it in front of your face, tracing along the lines and calloses that scar his skin, "i just miss you s'all" he heard you loud and clear, "hey," he gently called, grabbing your face and turning it towards him so you can look him in the eyes while he says this, "i don't really like workin' that late either but money doesn't make itself". He pushes the strands of braids out our face so he can get a good look at you, grabbing your chin and rubbing his thumb against it, "i miss you when i'm gone too baby but we can make the most of our time right now"

you let out a relaxed sigh feeling a sense of relief now that you both know what you were trying to say, you look him in his crimson eyes and crack a soft smile. "so.. are we friends again?" he playfully asks, you shake your head yes and pull him in for a kiss. he returns the favor 10 fold of course. locking you in his arms as he peppers kisses in the crook of your neck and on your face until suddenly your eyes lock and for what feels like an eternity, the world stops. without a second thought the two of you started taking your clothes off exchanging kisses in between rushed breaths.

this wasn’t a normal thing for you two, you were never one to initiate makeup sex you’d rather cuddle and watch a movie. though sukuna admittedly has been dreaming of this moment, where he finally gets to show you how sorry he really is. he doesn’t spare a moment yanking your work clothes off of you, crashing his lips into yours he steals the taste he craved right out of your mouth. your lust filled whimpers were oh so sweet to him, you were practically begging him for more and he was gonna give you every. single. inch.

he pulls his mouth from yours watching how your your pleading eyes gloss over, you move a hand up to the nape of his neck before pulling his ear close to your mouth

"let me ride it"

though you were known as a crybaby to everyone sukuna knew the dirty girl that hid deep inside you, it was a side of you that only he could access and he loved every bit of that. due to this fact a wide smile creeps up on his face when you double down, "you heard me?"

"you didn't have to say nuthin' but a word princess"

he rolls over on his back pulling you right over him, your leaking entrance hanging right over his angry, pink tip begging to let it explore your insides. your eyes trail from sukuna's happy trail all the way up to his hungry eyes, he's not one to rush but you can tell he's growing impatient as his thumbs massage the sides of your plush hips

"enjoying the view?"

you suck your teeth and steady his head over your slit slowwwly pushing down until every inch of him fits snugly into your wet crevasse, you wince at the sudden stretching it's not something you're sure you'll ever get use to. you start slowly at first dragging yourself ever so slowly trying to get him all worked up, you can tell its working because of how intense his stare is.

his hands worked over to your tits squeezing and cupping them ever so gingerly,, he was trying to be patient,, his breath hitches a bit as you press your small hands on his chest. "been thinking of that pussy all day" he admits, one of his hands move under your ass squeezing the fat and lightly spanking it demanding a yelp out of you, "you get my gift?"

"mmhm~" you answer, picking up your pace just a bit more, he smiles at this and sneakily moves his other hand under your ass, spanking it again just so he can hear you yelp

"you like it?" he asks, eyes switching between watching your pussy swallow him whole and your cute little face. if your blush could be seen you're sure you'd look as red as a tomato by now, seeing him look at you so intently like this made you feel so dizzy. you move your head down to his ear once more

"i loved it"

unbeknownst to you this would be the final straw to push sukuna over the edge, he loves to be praised and he was gonna show you exactly what your words do to him. using the hands underneath your ass he tilts you towards his chest and immediately starts drilling into you, you can feel yourself clutching around his girth, deep groans escape his mouth as he fucks tiny whimpers and slutty squelches out of yours

you can feel sukuna's body temperature raise almost the instant your breasts are pressed against him, he thrusts faster, the sound of your bodies along with your desperate cries filled his ears, pap, pap, pap! he grew harder at the the thought that you could be heard in the surrounding rooms of your apartment though his main motivation was how loud he could make you scream his name. oh how he loved to make you scream, he’d feel you clawing at him as your broken up mewls fueled his boner it was almost like a reward and he knew exactly how to get more of what he was chasing after

he quickly pops his dick out and flips you on your back, "there's my pretty girl," he coos, "need to see that cock drunk face before i finish" he slams his lips into yours once more slipping his dick inside in the process. he places a hand on your stomach feeling how your soft pretty skin heats up to his touch he places another behind your head and starts up again. deep, drawn out thrusts just how his lady likes it, he felt how your gummy walls squeezed at the sudden change in tempo, making his stomach tense up and drill into you even deeper

"fuuckk, keep goin' woman," he buries his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier the more you called out his name, he looked down to see the concupiscent amounts of cream on his cock— so lewd, the sight of it made a muted whimper escape his lips. he was gonna blow soon and you could tell, "you feel so good mama" he breathes out, his voice so low yet wispy, it sent electric bolts straight to your clit. he doesn’t let up though, thrusting deeper as if he was trying to break through your cervix "'k-kuna~, 'kuna~" you manage to gasp out, you lock him in your gasp with your legs, "don't stop- god please don't stop!~" you felt breathless yet hot, your soft hands felt around his hardened body looking for something, anything to keep you grounded

"m'here baby, shit- m'gonna cum" he groans, lifting himself up to stare in your eyes before you both come to your inevitable finish. a hand reaches up to his face and another on his heartbeat, you felt how hard it was thumping, how hard his body was working in this moment. you could feel him working himself through your pussy until he hits that one spot, causing your mouth to drop right open. you start tearing up you and let out a loud scream, squirt uncontrollably splashes all over his pelvis making him give a loud, guttural groan

“i-i love you ‘kuna— fuuckk!~ iloveyou!” these were the last intelligible words spoken by you before the rest turned into a slurry mess, you babbled on and on repeating iterations of ‘i love you’. normally sukuna would stop and tease you for it but he was already about to blow

the best he can do is he let you ride out your orgasm, he moved his thumb down to your clit and started rubbing sensual circles over it, "give it all t'me" he commands still rolling his hips into your tight, swollen cunt. he watches as your facial expressions change. he loved how you’d squeeze your eyes so tightly and leave your mouth open nice and wide, "that's it,” he purrs “what a sweet girl", he bends down to kiss your forehead feeling how your body shakes beneath him, “you love me?”

“yes! yes!~”

“you’re not just sayin that ‘cause i fuck you good?”

“i love you ‘kuna” you breathe out between sobs, he wipes the tears from your eyes and shushes you, planting kisses on your face which to his surprise makes your pussy sieze up squirt a little again.

as he tries to drag himself out he finds that he can’t, he places his hands on the side of your head, feeling his legs begin to shake, he lets out a low, desperate grunt throwing his head back while thrusting until he fills you up to the brim with hot, thick spurts of cum. he watches how it combines with your juices, letting the feeling totally control him until finally his muscles relax and his body gives out

“i love you too woman” he breathes out

your legs fully give out at this point, tired from the sudden boost of serotonin, taking note of this he pulls out and lays next to you holding your hand and kissing on it

you both lie there speechless for a moment before he breaks the silence

“you like cold pizza?”

[sideprince]

YOU GET IT. This book is really about Harry's relationship to Snape and foreshadowing that Snape's betrayal isn't all it seems to be. The Slughorn party scene makes me angry actually because Snape’s only purpose in it is to be the straight man in a comedy bit. He serves no narrative purpose (even the message he conveys has no purpose - it’s not like Dumbledore was cancelling an appointment, he’s just saying “we had no plans to meet and continue to not have any. k bye” but doing it through Snape for... some fucking reason ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). In the film ABOUT HIM where he’s only in four scenes one of them renders Snape’s presence narratively functionless. He's in that scene so the audience can get a laugh when McClaggen pukes on his shoes (and the timing of that whole bit is painfully clumsy and slow, because the films don't respect the audience's intelligence and assume them to be clumsy and slow too).

And you know what, I know I didn’t include the Sectumsempra scene and I’ll tell you why: because what’s the point? Snape shows up and says nothing. He heals Draco. He doesn’t hold Harry accountable???????? He doesn’t guess how Harry knew this uncharacteristically dark spell that isn't taught in class or punish Harry or even ask him “hey so about this student who’s bleeding to death in this bathroom where the only other person was you?” Snape's purpose in that scene is to fix Harry's mistake. Which is the complete antithesis of how he relates to Harry.

I’m frothing at the mouth at how Steve Kloves went out of his way to strip this scene of any substance for no discernible reason other than to handicap his own plot and character development??? Severus FUCKING Snape, who spends every book antagonizing and punishing Harry, just lets him go and fixes his near-fatal fuck-up without a word????? And Harry “slashed up a fellow student” Potter just walks away and is like, “that was messier than the time I fully murdered a teacher in my first year but anyway, guess I better do as Ginny says and go with her to hide this book, maybe we can hook up after,” and that’s just… fine. Which tracks with the rest of Kloves' sloppy writing, since he doesn't show Harry getting attached to the book, let alone the Prince, he just carries it around and reads it sometimes. And even when he does that we don't see him get immersed in it, he's still fully aware of what's going on around him and actively participating in conversations while perusing it. If you watch this film (or any of them) and think about every scene in the context of "what if I hadn't read the book and didn't have the understanding it gave me for what's happening or the emotional attachment to the characters" then you'll see how Kloves took a vibrant, colorful landscape and turned it into a hand-drawn cardboard cutout.

The purpose the Sectumsempra scene serves in the book is manifold and complex:

Harry's trust in the Prince is shaken and he sees an ugly side to this unknown person he's anthropomorphized into a kind of friend.

This is paralleled with Snape appearing at that exact moment, because foreshadowing.

Harry, who at the end of the previous book wanted and failed to use an Unforgiveable on Bellatrix Lestrange, experiences what it is to enact violence on someone for the first time and is deeply shaken by it.

Snape DISCOVERS THAT HARRY HAS HIS OLD POTIONS BOOK.

Snape, who suggested expulsion in Harry's second year for being seen flying a car across the country and into the Whomping Willow, punishes him for attempted manslaughter with nightly detentions. I need a whole other post to unpack this one (and while this may not work for the film, the solution isn't to scrap Harry being punished altogether - that goes against Snape's character and eliminates possibilities for tension, exposition, and plot development, not to mention character development).

Harry chooses to hide the book in the Room of Requirement and hand Snape Ron's book instead. This is a crucial moment for Harry's character development: he hides the book with the goal of retrieving it later, because despite the Prince's violent betrayal, he doesn't reject him and is still attached to him [insert meta about the potential parallels to Lily's friendship with Snape, what she saw in him, and why they remained friends for some time even when Snape became more immersed in the Dark Arts]. In fact, Harry wants to go back and get it, and his main reason for not doing so is fear of discovery by Snape, not a rejection of the Prince. This is a hugely important moment once you realize that Snape is the Prince, because it makes Harry's relationship to him - and his view of Snape's betrayal when he kills Dumbledore - much more complex and interesting and cathartic. It also shows that Snape has redeemable qualities, if Harry was able to become so attached to his younger self (the one who was an aspiring DE, before he defected and risked his life to save a friend, at that).

Snape's realization that Harry has his old Potions book is what leads to the moment after Dumbledore's death where Snape reveals his identity as the Prince. If he didn't know Harry had his old book and had learnt from it, why would he do this?

The purpose of the Sectumsempra scene in the film, though? Imprisonable offence after imprisonable offence. Writer's jail for Kloves:

Harry and Malfoy have it out, even though that tension hasn't really been built up (there was the Hogwarts Express scene and then not much after. Fun fact: when Draco gets caught gatecrashing Slughorn's party, it's done without having set up in any way that he's overlooked by Slughorn and insecure about losing his social standing due to his dad's imprisonment. There's zero attention given to his lack of inclusion in the Slug Club, so the fact he's using gatecrashing as an excuse to cover for sneaking off to the RoR is impossible for the viewer to understand, because the fact that he'd need to gatecrash at all is also unexplained, unless they had context from the books).

Snape saves Malfoy, but since neither character has had much screen time or relevance to the plot, it's just a striking visual to see Malfoy splayed on the water logged floor with Snape's robes swirling around them but not much more. Again, without the context from the books, this moment lacks substance.

There are no repercussions for Harry. He and his friends acknowledge that the book is dangerous, but Harry isn't punished, doesn't try to make amends, and basically acts like the self-involved special little boy Snape makes him out to be and who the books show him to be the opposite of. He doesn't seem all that conflicted or horrified and doesn't even hide the book on his own, his friends push him to get rid of it, and he goes to do it because it's a way to hang out with Ginny - who hides it on his behalf, which signals very different things about Harry's character than Book!Harry's choices do. The purpose of hiding the book in the film isn't so Harry can try and get it back later because he's still attached to the Prince, it's so he can be alone with Ginny and they can kiss, which Ginny instigates because Steve Kloves does nothing better than write passive protagonists who don't have to lift an emotional finger (see: Harry going along with being told to hide book instead of choosing to do so himself), and female characters who do all the heavy (and weirdly subservient? I'm looking at you Ginny feeding Harry and tying his shoes at the Burrow) lifting.

Nothing about this scene gives us even a remote hint that Snape is the Prince. When, at the end of the film, Snape reveals that he's the Half-Blood Prince, there is no context for it in the film or reasonable cause for him to know that Harry knows who the Half-Blood Prince even is. It's like if Ron walked up to someone on the street when he was 40 and said "yes, I am Roonil Wazlib." This revelation hasn't been set up, all its foreshadowing has been deliberately avoided, so it doesn't land with the impact it has in the books and definitely doesn't have the same effect if you haven't read the book first.

In short, in the film about Snape, and Harry's unwitting relationship with him, the scene where the biggest clue is given about the Prince's identity and one of the most crucial interactions between Harry and Snape happens, Snape is a sidebar, not a feature. So I don't count it as a Snape scene. He doesn't even have any dialogue aside from vulnera sanentur. Poor Alan Rickman was doing his best to do right by Snape's character with his acting even though the script gave him literally nothing. I hope every bowl of soup Steve Kloves eats for the rest of his life is cold and unsalted. Unless it's gazpacho. Then I hope it's scalding hot and burns his tongue.

Canon: Harry overhears Malfoy intimidating Borgin and figures out that he's been branded with the Dark Mark

Steve Kloves: Harry sees Malfoy meet a bunch of Death Eaters in Borgin and Burkes and figures out it was a ceremony to give Malfoy a Dark Mark

No but what I love about the movie version of events is that it implies that any Death Eater can brand anyone with the Dark Mark or, even better, that Voldemort was there in Borgin and Burkes and no one saw or heard him and he just popped into a shop in Knockturn Alley, tatooted a kid, and peaced out. I know I talk a lot about how Rowling (boo, hiss) was thoughtless with her world building, but she has nothing on Steve Kloves. I'm pretty sure he wrote those scripts with a crayon stuck between his toes.

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

"It's so unfair to the Rat Grinders that they are killed instantly and the Bad Kids get to roll death saves." SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP

THIS IS LONG, AND HONESTLY FOR MYSELF, SO YEAH READ IF YOU WANT

I swear to god, this discourse is going to fucking be the end of me. Idk what kind of mind boggling spell Brennan Lee Mulligan wove into the fabric of the universe that spread through the data center of Dropout in order to absolutely hijack y'all's brains when it comes to Cocklord Assgape and her ragtag of character foils but whatever it was has made you Rat Grinder stans INSUFFERABLE in this site.

The levels of treating fictional characters as if they were real people have reached a level I honestly have never anticipated, to the point of y'all actually being mad AT THE CAST for "mistreating" them and ACTUALLY QUESTION BRENNAN'S CAPACITY TO DM. Do you not get how fucking insane that is?

We can't make fun of Copperkettle, one of the most pathetic, petty and incompetent villains in D20 history anymore (even though she is masterfully written and developed to generate this reaction from us) anymore because it's bullying apparently. I saw an account flip the fuck out because someone compared her rivalry with Kristen to Drake and Kendrick's beef. KIPPERLILY IS NOT A REAL GIRL. SHE IS A MAKE BELIEVE CHARACTER IN AN IMPROV SHOW SPAWNED FROM THE BRAIN OF A 36 YEAR OLD MAN

And then what truly pissed me off the MOST about this whole hell is the fact that, being chronically online avid consumers of this goddamn show, I would think you would have but a grasp of the main cast of characters' characterization.

Why the uproar about Riz saying they should chop Oisin's head off? The same Riz who tortured that pixie from Freshman year by shooting off their finger one by one? The same Riz who murked a disarmed and unconscious Coach Daybreak without battin an eye? The same Riz who ATE THE CORPSE OF KALVAXUS?

And the whole Fabian vs Ivy debacle MY GOD, THE GIRL WAS RACIST TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AND USED HER LAST BREATH TO CALL MAZEY "OBJECTIVELY UGLY". And the funniest thing is that is not even the most unhinged shit he has ever said.

And finally, Death Save Gate: THE RAT GRINDERS ARE NOT PLAYER CHARACTERS. THEY ARE NPCS! THE RULES FOR EACH WORK DIFFERENTLY, ESPECIALLY THEM BEING BOSS ENCOUNTERS. Imagine having to still hit Ivy or Oisin 2 more times to kill them when there is 14 foot tall Porter throwing legendary actions left and right, with Jace, and other 3 spell casters + Mary Ann and KLCK up and running. It's called balancing the fucking game. Also, game masters are entitled to break, mold and make up any rules they want if they find necessary in order to service themselves and their players. IF YOU PLAY WITH ALL THESE RULES AS THEY COME, GOOD FOR YOU AND YOUR TABLE. THIS IS NOT YOUR TABLE.

Not only is Brennan DMing for his CLOSEST FRIENDS EVER, he is also shooting and producing an ENTIRE TV SHOW. So yeah, i think he knows wtf he is doing.

"But the Ratgrinders had no real development": True. But it wasn't for lack of trying from the players. Everytime they tried to know more, the dice didn't let them, so they decided to focus on the mystery. It simply do be like that sometimes.

"But they are just kids!": And so were Penelope, Dayne, Ragh, Zayn, the Bloodrush Players, Aelwyn and Biz. Why wasn't it a problem then? Because most of them were evil to some extent and were about to bring the fucking apocalypse to the world? Yeah, sounds familiar right? And the ones who were manipulated or had any sort of redemption worked their way into earning it, right? Yeah.

In conclusion, I fucking love the Rat Grinders, I truly do, and not unlike 90% of this website, i'm still holding on to hope that they have any sort of development and redemption in the last episode, because I agree, they ARE children and they WERE manipulated by Porter and Jace, but like, can we also agree that they are fucking assholes and had it fucking coming? Also, the BKs are children too y'know. SO STOP BEING FUCKING ANNOYING.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rhaenys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− Your Grace, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; her fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

[aayakashii]

Hiii I was thinking a first kiss scenario (❤️21) with Lyca would be fun! Either fluff or smut works :)

21❤️ First kiss

Did I project myself into this? Yes, heavily. So I'm very sorry if some parts of it are too specific skdjdksjs 😭 but here it is!! Very fluffy btw!

You looked to your side and pursed your lips into a thin line so you wouldn’t break into a loud laugh.

Lyca was right by your side, legs crossed while he snuggled one of your pillows, with a bright and furious shade of red on his cheeks, neck and ears.

The poor boy was struggling, but powering through the grueling task he had forced upon himself.

All of that just because he asked you if you two could try to watch a romcom together.

“Why would you ever want to watch a movie like that, Lyca?” you had asked him, befuddled.

He growled, an angry pout plastered on his face.

“The blonde gigolo said I am not strong just because I can barely interact with girls! And he even said I would probably die if I ever watched a romance movie, so I have to prove him wrong!” he clenched his fists, absolutely mad with indignation.

You rolled your eyes. You had to have a serious conversation with Rui about him picking on poor Lyca, because you always ended up mixed into their mess.

“You’re walking right into his trap, Lyca. This will prove absolutely nothing and you will definitely hate it.” you tried putting a little bit of sense into his brain, but he was stubborn.

“But what if he really thinks that?! What if it's not a trap?! I have to prove it to him!”

You let out a loud sigh. There was no convincing him otherwise. He was willingly walking towards his own torture and all you could do was stand beside that dumb werewolf.

And it turns out Rui was almost right. Lyca did look like he was about to spontaneously combust while he watched those romantic scenes. You kept one eye on the movie and one on his reactions, eager to know how he would feel once the kissing scene popped up.

You didn't expect to feel disappointed though.

As the two main characters kissed passionately on the screen, Lyca began staring at the scene with what looked like curiosity. The furious blush was still there, on his cheeks, but more than anything, it looked like the gears in his mind were working overtime.

And then, he turned to you.

“Have you… have you ever kissed someone before?” he asks in a mumble, glaring at you from under his long lashes, like he was ready to fight and not talk.

The question took you by surprise. It wasn't really something you liked talking about, but you also had a weak spot for Lyca. If he was curious about it, then you wouldn't mind answering.

“Just a few times, I guess” you shrugged. You decided not to mention you regretted it mostly every single time. That was the type of talk you didn't really want to have with him, of all people.

Lyca growled and angrily pouted beside you, crossing his arms. Your hand went straight to his hair, scritching his scalp soothingly.

“Why are you mad?”

He grabbed your wrist, withdrawing it from his head. You gave him the sad puppy eyes – trying to use his own weapon against him – but he turned his head away and was adamant in not looking at you.

“Hey, tell me why you're mad. Did I upset you?” you asked, genuinely concerned.

He pouted even more.

“You already had all these experiences.”

You blinked, confused.

“And…?”

“It makes me mad!” he huffed.

You paused to think about his words. A little part of you tried to entertain the thought that he was jealous, but you quickly snuffed that little flame out. Maybe he was upset that you both had similar ages and he hadn't done the same things. That was more likely. But it’s not like his circumstances allowed him to have said experiences, though. Lyca's life was anything but mundane like yours used to be.

You put your hand back on his head again despite his warning growl.

“You don't have to be mad about that. I only did it because people were pressuring me. I have never actually kissed anyone I liked.”

It was a half-truth. Intimacy was actually a very sensitive topic for you. You always watched in horror as colleagues and friends around you had such an easy time mindlessly locking lips with each other. 

For you, it was almost physically impossible even thinking about doing that without caring about the person you'd kiss and consequently, you ended up not kissing anyone for a long, long time. 

Embarrassingly long. 

Eventually, you had forced yourself to get your first experiences out of the way just so you'd stop thinking there was something wrong with you. Obviously, they were all with people who didn't care much about you.

And you didn't exactly regret it. It made you realize that things like that aren't that big of a deal and, honestly,  sometimes it could be a sensory nightmare. So it's not like you'd be missing that much.

But deep, deep inside, you kind of wished you had them with someone you liked and who liked you back.

“Why would you do something you don't like just because of other people?” Lyca had now turned towards you, ears perked up and one eyebrow raised.

You sighed. Sometimes you think that if the world was as simple as Lyca thought it could be, everything would be a lot better.

“I'm sure you've noticed humans are very weird and stupid sometimes. That's another proof of that.” you didn't feel like explaining too much.

He hummed, deep in thought.

Suddenly, as you searched for whatever else he was thinking in his golden irises, you felt anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. Your mind was plagued by the thought of him being kissed by some random and uncaring person and you definitely didn't want him to make the same mistake as you.

“Listen. I don't want you to feel pressured when it comes to these things though.” you blurted out.

He looked at you quizzically, and then scoffed.

“I'm not feeling pressured.” he puffed his chest, as if the thought was unimaginable.

“No, I'm serious.” you tugged his hoodie's sleeve to keep his attention on you. “Even if it's not a big deal, I don't want you to kiss someone you don't like.”

He stared at you.

“Why?”

You felt your cheeks get warmer under his gaze.

“... Because I want you to have good memories. I want you to be able to remember most of your experiences fondly. I don't want you to regret anything nor feel hurt.”

Lyca stared at you, thinking. He had no problem with making eye contact even when he wasn't speaking and it served to make you even more embarrassed. Were you crossing a line? You were extremely protective of him, but he never asked any of that from you. What if you were just meddling in his business and annoying him? What if you were being a hurdle he had to cross over in order to feel more like a human? What if–

“Can you do it then?” Lyca suddenly said, snapping you out of your thoughts

You looked at him, eyes wide. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“What?”

“I wouldn't mind if you were the one who kissed me for the first time. I don't think I would regret it.” he said, scratching his head and, finally, breaking eye contact. 

He was embarrassed.

You blinked fast a few times, trying to gather your thoughts.

“A-are… are you sure?”

He dropped his arm to his side and nodded, serious as ever.

“Uhum. I am sure.”

“Don't you want to save it and do it with someone you like?”

“I like you.”

Oh god. Oh GOD.

“N-no, Lyca, I mean-”

“You don't want to kiss me?”

You rubbed your face with your hands, feeling how hot your skin was, and groaned.

“It's not that! I do want to- to kiss you! It's just-”

“Then do it.” he said, as matter-of-factly as he could possibly say.

You sighed and shifted in your seat.

“Are you sure?” you asked again. He rolled his eyes.

“I already said I am.”

“But are you REALLY sure?”

Lyca began growling, his wolf ears going flat against his head.

“I am sure!”

“Okay, then” you gulped, straightening your back and gathering all the courage you had inside “I'll have to come closer, okay?”

“Okay.” he nodded, also sitting up straight and watching your every movement.

You tentatively reached your hands towards Lyca's cheeks. He flinched as you touched him and you mouthed an apology before cupping them gently. You could feel how warm his skin was getting as you got closer and closer to his face.

His eyes were wide, and his shaky breath fanned your skin as your lips were barely apart.

When you locked your lips against his, it felt like he was melting under your touch – you felt his shoulders sagging and he unconsciously placed his hands on your waist.

It didn't feel like any kiss you had before. He was clearly clumsy and didn't know what to do (and, honestly, neither did you), but the warmth of his body embraced you gently and, when you glided your hands to his neck, you could feel the fast and loud drum of his heart under your fingertips – it was so endearing, it made you dizzy.

As you softly sucked on his bottom lip, you wondered why it all felt so sweet – were you falling for him? –, but right as you began thinking too much about it, he let out a little gasp that scrambled every coherent thought.

You brought him closer to you and pressed your lips flush against his, squeezing his shoulders with your hands before letting go and finally pushing him away. You didn't want to cross any boundaries by deepening the kiss without his consent, after all. Just touching him without having him bite your hand off was a huge achievement, so the kiss felt like a trophy.

Once you opened your eyes, Lyca was already watching you with pupils blown wide; his golden iris was barely visible and he stared at you, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Lyca! You're supposed to close your eyes when you kiss.” you playfully tapped the top of his head.

His face was scarlet red and he hid it behind the sleeve of his hoodie.

“We-well, you have to tell me that first!”

You sighed, smiling at his embarrassment, but you were sure you didn't look much different.

As you tried to calm your own racing heart, a loud thump-thump-thump caught your attention, and you peeked behind Lyca.

You gasped, trying to suppress a giggle.

His tail was wagging wildly, hitting the couch in a steady rhythm.

“I guess I don't really need to ask if you liked the kiss, do I?” You teased him, hiding how big your smile was with your hands.

“ARGH” he pushed his tail down, trying to immobilize it. “Shut up!”

You didn't know if he was talking to you or to his own tail. You let your arms fall to your sides.

“Hey, it's okay, I really liked the kiss, you know? Don’t be embarrassed.” you said, between chuckles.

He stared at you wide-eyed, searching your face for any hint of a lie or of a joke. When he couldn't find any of that, his tail began wagging once again, much to his dismay.

“T-thank you.” he grumbled, again avoiding your eyes.

Right then, as you watched him blush and fidget on his seat, you thought that maybe you could say that was your very own first kiss as well.

[utilitycaster]

what are those 5 things? 👀

Seeing people start admit that maybe Imogen and Laudna did in fact pressure Fearne excessively hard to take the shard. I think it's good Fearne took it in the end, but yeah they really made it difficult for her to express her doubts and that was shitty of them. I got extensive hate for saying that at the time from people who are literally saying the same thing now. It's very funny.

The (entirely valid) complaints I've seen that people care more about imo/dna as a ship than Laudna as a character and are making her book solely about the fact that Imogen will show up in it. I pointed out this exact same problem occurring while Laudna was dead, almost two years ago.

Caleb considering leaving the Nein means they aren't really bonded. Imogen considering leaving Bells Hells means she's so perfect and caring and selfless and noble and good. Anyway yeah sure I definitely believe that if Imogen were a man played by Liam everyone would definitely be totally uncritical and love everything she did. (This is also a layered one, given how Twitter has been bashing Orym nonstop for over a year).

I know it's been a month and I've said this repeatedly so this is a bit tacky but I'm still riding the absolute Irony High of people being like "STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS STOP TALKING ABOUT HUBRIS anyway of COURSE Bells Hells would NEVER see the gods as a messed up family, just like them" and then jump cut to Laudna literally saying that. It's just genuinely so funny that people mad at everyone calling Aeor full of hubris proceeded to get their wax wings straight up vaporized at the top of episode 102.

People calling imo/dna the bestest most organic most slow-burn sapphic ship ever (it's not even the longest slow-burn f/f ship on Critical Role; even if you're stupid enough to count the two years we know virtually nothing about just for the purposes of padding out the time to eliminate Beauyasha on a technicality - nevermind that slowburn is about the length of the story itself and not the length of time the characters have known each other, since it's obvious that if someone said 'here's Jane and Kate, they've known each other for 300 years, now they are kissing' this would not be a satisfying slowburn unless like, you went back and filled in the 300 years - Kimallura STILL wins) but as someone who received a decent amount of harassment for saying it wasn't very interesting and as such kept tabs on the people engaging in that harassment...they've been dropping like flies. If it's the best sapphic ship ever and it's canon and you're in the top 5 ships for the show of all time on ao3 and Delilah's gone and they're going to get their cottage, funny how a good chunk of the shippers haven't even managed to stay interested in CR. Also why are half the people who HAVE kept up like hmmmm what if I threw Fearne or Ashton in there. Like believe me, I support a poly hells situation, but uh. quite a tumble for what people used to call the Beating Heart Of The Campaign (TM).

Bonus! This is below a cut because it has spoilers for next week's Re-Slayer's Take that's only out for Beacon subscribers but

we see Devexian, and he meets Frog (an aeormaton PC) and his overall statement on Aeor is "it created us to serve, and we fought for our autonomy. It was both a beautiful and terrible place. Anyway the past is past, what's important is that we as aeormatons take our chance to live now, and my personal goal is not just to bring back as many aeormatons as I can, but learn how to make more aeormatons." He is completely uninterested, at least in 839 PD, in any sort of action against the gods. Like, I think he regrets the fall of Aeor because a lot of Aeormatons and knowledge died in it but he literally is like "your life is defined by your own choices, not your designation at the time of Aeor." The actual survivors of the fall of Aeor are like anyway, we want acceptance, autonomy, and the means to control our own production in modern day Exandria. Ludinus whomst.

[reyreadersblog]

ALRIGHT Y'ALL MADE ME DO IT!!!

My unpopular tig/tgg opinions!!

FIRST!

These are MY opinions and i'm allowed to have my own thoughts on certian things, just as you are, okay..? Just wanna..get this out of way, i know everyone is respectful in this fandombut still.

1. this is something that should NOT be an upopular opinion. AVERY IS THE MAIN CHARACTER FOR A REASON. okay? She is a girlboss, and she needs more appretiation, cus literally search up tig on tt rn. Everybody and their cat named Stewie is talking about Grayson and Jameson? WHAT ABOUT MY MG AVERY? And if you see any post about her, it's probably a hate vid about how Avery should've kept the money...SHUT UP. Read what she said carefully..."no one deserves that kind of power.." and then think about it deeply.

2. I DO NOT WANT TIG TO TURN INTO A TV SERIES (or even a movie). i can't name all the reasons 'cus then the the list would be endless. First of all, i know, I JUST KNOW, they'll choose the worst cast ever. And even if they find the most accurate cast for the Hawthorne brother i will still be dissapointed, because the images of them i have in my head...THEY'LL NEVER TOP EM. second of all, they will leave out important moments, just as simple as it sounds, and trust me they will, just like they do with most of the live adaptations of books. Third of all, SHIP WARS!!! I phisically can't with ship war, like I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF EM IN THE PAST WHEN THE BOOKS WERE STILL COMING OUT. And just the thought of Averygrayson shipper saying "yeah Avery and jameson were endgame in the books but they might change it in the movie..." GIVES ME NIGHTMARES. and overall, not everything needs a live adaptation yk? sometimes things just have to stay the way they are.

3. ...this is a bit contrevertial.and i don't want to sound like a hater since i've said this a multiple times before but Rohan's pov was my least favourite in the grandest games. Purely bcs whatever Savannah and Rohan had going on...don't get me wrong, i like Savannah (even tho she did and said some fucked up things) and Rohan, SEPERATLY. But them being together...idk man, they were too..."booktokish" for my liking, yk? and i do love banter and teasing, but they were like basic "i like you but i like winning more" "couple". Not to mention they were so random...like where did they come from? I remember when we first saw Sav and Rohan having the same symbols on their cards i was very excited, i expected a different dynamic between them...PLUS THE WHOLE GAME THEY JUST WANTED TO FUCK💀

4. Hating Alisa Ortega and loving Grayson Hawthorne is CRAZYYY, and i'm saying this bcs they're pretty similar in different ways. And the thing is people are mad at Alisa for "saying mean words to Libby" (she was literally doing her job, you would understand if you were at her place) MEANWHILE GRAYSON LITERALLY THREATENED A HEIRESS! (sayin this as a Gray stan) *sigh* y'all are something else🤦🏻‍♀️.

5. Ohh...this one is risky...BUT CAN Y'ALL STOP ACTING LIKE JAMESON IS BLAMELESS?? all i see is Grayson slander, AND I UNDERSTAND, he fucked up, but saying "Jameson was so much better than Grayson" is a lie, at least for me. (He was better for Avery tho) he fs made mistakes that fandoms chooses to ignore. Like lets not act like treating Avery like a toy wasn't wrong. Lets not act like him blaming Grayson for everything wasn't wrong. Let's not act like him reminding Grayson of Emily's death wasn't wrong. And i know that later on both him and Grayson had a great character development, but still, i've never seen anyone talk about this.

6. This isn't about tig. But LIKING JLBS WORK AND BEING HER FAN DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE GLAZING HER💀 (talking about an argument i had a while ago...) like is it so hard for your brain to understand that it's called having an opinion. Idc if it's JLB or any other author, okay? Like i've read almost every Jlb's books and i love them, AND i also publicly talk about how much iblove her work, does that mean i'm glazing her? UHM NO WTF💀.

7. LET. PEOPLE. HAVE. PREFRENCE. (I'm talking about ships btw) . Someone prefers LyraGray over Averyjameson, and that's okay. Someone loves Averyjameson the most, and that's also okay, someone likes Libbynash more then Xandermax, AND THAT IS ALSO OKAY.

I'll probably do part 2, i have more to say i'm just really tired rn.

Also it's not proof read so sorry if there are many mistakes.

[jangofettjamz]

Happy Halloween

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You and Jenna attend your sister Emma Myers' halloween party to try and boost your social confidence.

Words: 2400

TW: Sexual Harassment.

Set in the same timeline as "Confessions"

Jenna POV

October has finally rolled around, tis halloween season; my favourite season. Y/N and I are going to a Halloween party that his twin, Emma Myers, is hosting.

Not only is this Y/Ns first Halloween party, but it's his first party in general. I told him that he didn't have to go if he didn't want to, but he insisted. He's been trying to improve his social abilities for the last year and he believes that going to this party might help him gain that much needed boost I'm confidence. I'm so proud of him for trying.

We've decided that we're gonna be dressed as superheroes this year; his choice. Normally I'd go for something much more "macabre", but it's his first Halloween with me so I let him choose the theme of our costumes.

Originally we were going to go as Wednesday and Xavier, though we decided against it as, one: it was unoriginal and two: it hadn't been announced that Y/N was replacing Percy as Xavier for Wednesday Season two, so we wanted to keep it on the down low.

I'm going as a female version of Spider-Man, we'll I guess it would be "Spider-Women" in my case. It's a generic choice I know, but who doesn't like anything Spider-Man related, especially after that masterpiece of a movie "Across The Spider-verse." My costume is a rwd and blue Spidey suit; classic style.

Y/N however, he chose an outfit that I dunno if it constitutes as a "superhero" costume. Mainly because that this character is downright evil. He is going as one of the best TV villains ever: Homelander.

Jack Quaid, who worked on The Boys and scream 5 with me, managed to get in contact with the producers and procured one of the costumes they used for Antony Starr. It pays being a celebrity sometimes. The suit was a perfect fit for Y/N, he absolutely loves The Boys, so you imagine how happy he was when Jack managed to source this suit for us.

Dying his hair to match Homelander's was a bit nerve wracking for him as he'd never dyed his hair before, but I eventually convinced him after a while and he definitely looks the part.

The party is going hold around 50 people, all at the Myers' house. Atleast the party is at a familer location making it easier for Y/N. Though, I admit I'm still a little nervous that he'll become to overstimulated from all the music, lights and people. I take pride in making sure that everything is adjusted for Y/N comfort and accessibility, but this is completely out of my hands and I hate that.

He assures me that he'll be fine, that he can manage on his own and that he'll be fine if anything goes wrong. Still, I can't help but worry about him, he is my everything after all. I do get a bit motherly over Y/N sometimes.

- 3 hours later - Myers Residence.

We just pulled up the Myers House. Many different coloured lights gleamed put the windows, loud music invaded our ear drums even from inside the car. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all" Y/N said nervously; the kind of of nervous you'd hear from someone when they know something bads going to happen.

"Do you wanna go back home, bubs?" He looked at me, then back at the house, contemplating his choices. "Honey, I won't be mad if you wanna go back home, we both knew that this would be difficult for you. There's no shame in wanting to go home, baby." I said with a smile to let him know my words are genuine.

"I wanna go in" He finally said.

"Are you sure?" I said, needing firm confirmation that he wanted this. He nodded and I smiled. "I'll be right beside you, if at any point you get uncomfortable, you tell me right away." He nodded again and we made our way to the front door, the sound of loud music increasing with each step we take.

Pumpkins lit with candles were displayed on the door step, clearly Emma has a talent for carving pumpkins I see. Y/N walks behind, I can practically feel his eyes staring at my ass. I turn around and he immediately turns his head, making me smile widely.

"Were you staring at my ass, Y/N L/N?" He didn't answer me and kept his eyes to the ground, confirming my suspicions. I kiss him on the lips "It's okay, I don't mind" He smiles and reaches for the doorbell.

Y/N rang the doorbell with an unsteady hand, his foot nervously bouncing up and down against the pavement as we wait for someone to answer the door. The door eventually swings open revealing Emma. She's dressed as Enid in her black cat outfit.

"Oh my god, Y/N, you're here!" She says pulling him into a tight death grip of a hug. He laughs while returning the hug with an equal amount of pressure.

"Good to see you too, sis. I should've known you would've went as Enid for Halloween" he says playfully, she nudges his arm in response at his cheeky little comment.

She turns to me and gives me a bug hug. It's been a while since I've seen her, so it was nice to catch up after all this time. "Your costumes look amazing guys, that Homelander suit looks so authentic!" Little did Emma know, it was very authentic.

She leads inside to the living room, the sound of music was turned down a bit now that Y/N was here much to some peoples dismay, but no one objected, at least not verbally anyway.

"How's your Halloween going so far sis?" Y/N asked his sister.

"Oh it's going great dude, we have a lot of candy for all the trick or treaters that knock kn our door." She takes a seat on the couch in the living and so do we, my hand interlocks with Y/N to keep him close.

"I'm surprised you came here, Y/N/N. I know you don't like the party scene all that much. I'm proud ofnyou for coming though, bro." She says pridefully, bunping her fist against his shoulder affectionately. He smiles at her, besides me and his parents, Emma is his number one supporter.

Suddenly a girl appears out of nowhere, intruding on our conversation. "Oh my god! Jenna Ortega!" At first I thought it was only an innocent fan wanting a picture so I spoke to her at first.

"Hi there, very nice to meet you" I say politely.

She looks over to Y/N with a smirk and a lick on the lips. "Well hi there handsome, nice costume" she says with a sultry tone. "Wanna ditch this party, I know a place where we can hang out, if you know what I mean" she says with a wink, she actually winked.

Y/N looked back at me looking extremely uncomfortable, his eyes just screamed "help me, Jenna." His grip on my hand tightened, indicating his stress and anxiety.

Before Y/N could so anything I set her straight. She went to touch him but grabbed her wrist tightly, earning a squeal from the bitch "He doesnt want to go anywhere with you, he's with me. I think you should go"

she leaves with a pout etched onto her bitchy face. "I'm not no expert on social interaction, but I'm 100% sure that she was flirting with me" he says, still shocked from what happened.

Emma spoke up "You okay, Y/N?"

He nods, still clearly uncomfortable with what just went down. I hug him tightly, keeping my arms securely around him. "I'm sorry she did that, bubs. I promise I won't let that happen again." He nodded at my words, my hands working my way under his cape to rub his back. Something tells me that bitch will make another move.

-2 hours later

The party is a lot more lively than we first got here, around 55 people for sure. I haven't had any alcohol since I didn't wanna get drunk, I've gotta drive home. I've been talking with Emma's friends, getting to know them a little.

Y/N sat next to me, though he struggled to talk with them and kept silent more often then not. He tapped my shoulder "I'm gonna go get a drink, I'll be back in a minute." I nodded, though admittedly I kinda wanted to go with him, but he's his own person and can handle himself. Like I said, I can't help but worry about him.

I keep my eye on him from afar, just in case anything were to happen. "So what's been going on with you and Y/N then, Jenna. Has my brother been behaving himself?" She jokes

I laugh and respond to her "He's great; both of us are. He's been trying to improve on his social skills lately, he thought coming here would help with that" I say, eyes quickly glancing to Y/N every once and awhile. I turned back to Emma and continued "Though, I think he's been struggling tonight, lots of people new people, not to mention all the lights and music."

Emma sighs, knowing her brother's struggles with socialising. "It'll take time to build his confidence. It seems like everytime he makes progress there's always something bad that happens, like what happened with Percy." Emma says that part with disgust.

I look over to Y/N who's still choosing what drink he wants, he's very indecisive, like me. "You're staring, Jenna" Emma catches me staring at him. I point my gaze back to her.

"Sorry I'm just worried about him, y'know." She nods at my words.

"Yeah I get it. I worry about him all the time." She admits with a sigh.

Suddenly I hear Y/N start to plead for someone to leave him alone. "Hey please leave me alone! I have a girlfriend!" He shouts, the girl from earlier had come back to harass.

"She doesn't deserve you, baby. Let me show you a good time" he shakes his head erratically, he looks like he's about to go into shock. I make my way over to save him from this psycho bitch.

She suddenly starts kissing him, causing him to whimper from disgust. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her off immediately out of pure desperation. "LOOK LADY I DONT WANNA GO OUT WITH YOU! PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!" All eyes were on them, his hands shook violently.

He looked at me, desperately wanting escape this situation. I dragged the girl up off the floor by her hair and slammed against the fridge. "You ever sexually harass my Y/N again, you're fucking dead" she nods and runs out the front door. Emma hugs Y/N, who's still a bit shaky after all that.

"You okay, baby boy?" I ask worriedly, cupping his cheek at the time. He nodded while releasing his grip on Emma and began wrapping me in a hug. There were no tears, he was still in shock from the whole thing his eyes were erratically darting across the room, noticing all the people that watched waht had happened.

He needs a quiet space "Emma is there a place where Y/N can calm down?"

"His old room is upstairs, that's his quiet place" I immediately take him upstairs, pushing past all the people who were in the way.

I opened the door to his room and sat him on the bed, still holding tightly in my arms. His frame was shaky but his breathing was less erratic now that he had less people watching him. Only a few sniffles were let out. "It's okay, baby boy. She's gone now."

"I didn't mean to, Jenna! She just kissed me without consent! I didn't kiss back I swear!" He pleads with me.

"Shh shh I'm not mad. I know it's not you're fault, she should never have done that. I'm so so sorry baby." I keep his head tucked into my shoulder.

I really don't think he should be at a party right now. He was just sexually harassed and is extremely stressed, far too stressed to socialise with anyone right now.

"Baby let's go home. You're way too stressed right now. We'll have our own little party, just me and you. We'll watch a couple scary movies together, make some popcorn and eat lots of candy. Whaddya say, sweetheart?" He nods and takes my hand.

We head back downstairs to tell Emma we're leaving. She's in the kitchen talking with her parents on the phone, absolutely fuming at what had just happened. I go up to her "Hey Emma we're gonna go. Y/N is really stressed out right now."

"That's okay, Jenna. Y/N I'm sorry this happened. If you ever need to talk to me, just call. Okay?" He nods at her comforting words and pulls her into a gentle embrace. "I love you both. Drive safe." We nod and head out the house.

- 45 minutes later

Me and Y/N are sitting on the couch, out costumes off and into our pyjamas. We've got popcorn, candy, chips and other snacks at the ready for our horror movie marathon, starting with "Candyman" then after that "Halloween".

Y/N moves his head to my chest. My hand made its way through his hair. "Thanks for getting me out of there, Jenna. Any longer and I think I may of had a nervous breakdown." He chuckles.

"It's alright baby. You're safe now and we're gonna have lots of fun. Just you and me." He smiles, eyes staring at my lips. I lean forward and kiss him tenderly and gently, my hand cupping his cheek as I did.

It was definitely worth leaving that party. The time I get to spend with him is better than any party.

[lloydfrontera]

You know, regarding Lloyd's achievement in history and whether ordinary citizens know him or not made me crave post canon modern au.

Imagine seeing an in universe fanfic authors notes in ao3 or twitter crying about how they simply wanted to write a story set in Lloys time but they just keep diving into rabbit holes.

Kinda like

"So i was writing an historical au set in Alician era where the MC had a detour in Cremo and he was admiring a statue by the sea with a local explaining its history. Of course, I needed to do some research only to found out that Lloyd Frontera, YES, THAT Lloyd Frontera who made the Pantara railroad defeated some sea monster, nearly died and got statue for it"

Maybe someone from Beneto Kingdom being so confused because all he learned from history in school (Beneto history) is that Lloyd is just some brilliant engineer so he got specially confused on why in the movie he was watching set in Alician era is Lloyd fighting a goddamn bone dragon.

I'm interested on how scholars and political figures bemoan and analyse Lloyd's action and achievement but ordinary people's Internet discourse could be so much fun as well.

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

oh my god forget changing the history of civil engineering forever, sparking the nastiest discourse ever on history/fandom internet forums is lloyd's true greatest achievement akshfksdg

he's the go to historical domain character used to set the time period for a historical movie/book/series. he's the guy writers insert to give their work a more period accurate vibe. everyone knows just enough about him to make really passionate history nerds very angry about all the inaccuracies and made up facts that are taken as common knowledge.

i'm thinking people of completely different online circles all knowing about lloyd in some capacity but regarding completely separate facets of his life and work and being so surprised when they accidentally find yet another whole field lloyd revolutionized. like.

a sword nerd who's really into the concept of the asrahan core technique and knows perfectly well that lloyd helped invent it getting gobsmacked about the fact that's the same guy that laid the ground for modern sewer systems.

a fan of historical romance stories who is used to seeing lloyd as a fun cameo in the background of stories set in the alician period being really confused when they open their book on thermodynamics and see there's a whole chapter dedicated to a method lloyd figured out to create ice without the need of magic.

a train enthusiast who is really fascinated by the rudimentary switchback system lloyd frontera implemented when the concept of a train wasn't even known in the empire being completely dumbfounded when their friends invite them to see a movie about that one time lloyd frontera and his knight defeated a knight of hell in namaran.

i think it's definitely a meme to post "so i was doing research for my asfahan au and went on a rabbit hole and guess who fucking built the qanat that's widely regarded as the only reason the kingdom didn't fall into civil war. take a wild fucking guess" "was it lloyd frontera" "IT WAS FUCKING LLOYD FRONTERA OF COURSE IT WAS"

i'm also certain there would be some guys who think he's overrated and people should really stop talking so much about him when there's so many other historical figures who are just as interesting and not as recognized 🙄. to which people immediately go "mad cause your history blorbo didn't defeat a bone dragon aren't you" at them

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

they definitely get the alexander and hephaestion treatment you are so correct. they're also the achilles and patroclus of the modern magentano girlies. there's a bunch of 'queer retellings' of their lives. they're the go to example for homoerotic friendships. there's a bunch of edits that mix historical paintings of them with ship fanart with that 'history hates lovers' song playing over them. dudebros get really angry about it. llojavi truthers pull out their 20 pages long annotations that start with "they fucking slept in the same bedroom for years" and it only gets worse.

there's one poor person online who just really fucking wants to know how and why lloyd frontera changed faces one day out of the blue with no one ever explaining it. there's no official records. no member of the royal family ever made a statement about it. why is everyone acting like the frontera family didn't have one eldest son for 25-29 years and one day suddenly had a completely different one. what the fuck is going on.

so. yeah. i'm a little obsessed with this concept actually ajkshdksa

[jennysparksandtheauthority]

I wish I could believe any Pricefield's criticisms in good faith, but this is the same fandom that harassed and abused Dontnod when Life is Strange 2 came out and it wasn't about Max and Chloe. The game got review bombed in the early days, and along with harassing the staff, the VAs and characters both received terrible racist comments. We also saw similar instances with True Colors. Harassment, review bombing, and racism.

Both Dontnod and Square/Deck Nine wanted to make this series into an anthology.

It was the Pricefield shippers who continually demanded the return of Max and Chloe.

Seeing how horrifically this fandom has treated so many people who worked on these games, many of whom are just as big of fans and passionate about it as they are, is it any wonder the latest entry is now a souless cash grab meant to bring in money banking on nostalgia while disrespecting the fans and hating on one half of a big ship?

And ever since the first two episodes of Double Exposure has come out, when the fandom isn't talking about Pricefield, I've seen nothing but transphobic comments about Gwen (constantly misgendering her and calling her a pedo because she's trans), racist comments towards Moses and Safi (accusing Moses of being the murderer just because he's black or being hoping Safi is going to die in both timelines because she's Arabic), bisexual erasure towards Max (which Michael confirmed was always supposed to happen, Square didn't influence her sexuality like so many of the fandom and the "former D9 employee" keep insisting), and attacking the VAs who are actually excited for this project and want to play the game on their youtube channels.

I used to love Pricefield when I was younger. I grew out of it as I got older because I saw all the flaws with the ship and figured out it wasn't for me. Any chance of enjoying the ship ever again was ruined by this fandom.

The Life is Strange fandom, and the Pricefield fandom especially, are incredibly entitled and bigoted. One of the worst fandoms I've ever had the displeasure to be a part of. And I'm not surprised at all that things ended up this way.

Big fandoms are always bound to be toxic at some point. The more people in a fandom, the higher the chances of having assholes among us. Unfortunately, it happens. And you’re right about all the fucked up shit that happened through the years, the LIS2 situation was especially heartbreaking.

But you’re also leaning into confirmation bias.

I’ve seen people on Twitter and TikTok and Instagram and here making fan cams of Gwen, saying she’s the best new character, arguing that she would have been a better love interest for Max than whatshisname and Amanda (and I echo that sentiment, Gwen rocks and I’ll fight the transphobes with my bare hands if I have to).

I’ve seen people hold dearly Sean and Daniel’s story, making the ‘squad’ sweatshirt sell out repeatedly in that website that has LIS stuff.

I’ve seen people saying they want to protect Moses at all costs, even calling for everyone to be respectful to the VA and to leave him out of the madness, just like with Hannah Tell.

If we’re having dinner in a restaurant with 100 well behaved people and there’s one or two or even ten assholes screaming and throwing things to other people, they’re going to ruin the experience for everyone else. They’re going to be loud and annoying and you could leave saying you’re never coming back to that restaurant. That’s fair. But the fault falls specifically on that group, not the other hundred people that were minding their own business and enjoying their dinners.

Nowadays, it’s impossible to enjoy any fandom if you don’t find the four/five weirdos that enjoy the thing as much as you and you create a nice little bubble of the stuff you like and the people you want to interact with. It’s sad, but it’s true.

This doesn’t mean people shouldn’t be held accountable and that we shouldn’t try to take out our own trash — I’ve been calling out an awful person on Twitter that’s been harassing and insulting the devs for the last few days. I reported them, I tried to reason, I did all the work until there was nothing left to do but to block them.

Sometimes you can make a difference. Other times, you can’t.

Now, are you suggesting that the whole pricefield fandom deserved this? That we all should be punished? That we’re all implicitly responsible for the misogyny, the homophobia and the greed of the capitalistic machine? Wow.

The simple truth is SE and D9 wanted to pander to casual gamers and gamebros cause they thought that would give them more money. The truth is that D9’s toxic work environment (reason enough to boycott everything they put out well before the pricefield fiasco) influenced this game to the point of being lead by people who didn’t understand the first game and that hated the themes at its core.

You think the pricefield fandom is bigoted and entitled? Oh boy, have a look at all the articles about D9’s internal affairs: N*ZI symbolism, misogyny, sexual harassment, homophobia…

You think the majority of the LIS fandom is toxic? Then take a look at what the casual cismale straight gamers are saying now. They’re the new LIS:DE fandom. I’m not going to reproduce the comments and the absolute vile things I’ve seen them say post-DE gameplay reveal and the break up confirmation, but I’ll show you a glimpse of the reactions:

So, in the bitter conclusion, you might be right: just like Chloe, we might deserve all of this because after all we’re loud, we’re queer, and we deserve to be punished.

Just like Nathan said to Chloe in the bathroom, the devs were asking this to the pricefield fandom… “Nobody would ever even miss your "punk ass" would they?”

Well, fuck around and find out.

[kingsnake101]

I had an idea for a FS/LU au a while back and wrote a little intro for it! Spoilers for Four swords adventures probably

Characters: Green, Red, Vio, Blue, Ganon

TWs: imprisonment, mind control, blood, injury

Green stared at the plain, lichen-stained bricks, counting them for what must have been the hundredth time. Anything to distract him from the sobbing boy curled up against his side. Green gave Red a half-hearted squeeze. He had given up on trying to cheer up his brother long ago. All he could offer now was a shoulder to cry on.

They had been appointed as smiths for Ganon's new kingdom. They were given two meals a day, a workshop, and two cots with megar blankets.

The second cot had barely been touched since they arrived. Although it was irrational, Green couldn't help but fear that his brother would disappear the moment they let go of each other. He knew Red felt the same.

“At least we have each other,” Green mused. Vio and Blue weren't that lucky. Neither of them had seen Blue since they were captured, and whenever Vio visited it wasn't really Vio. Thoughtful purple eyes were clouded over by an opaque red. Red still believed that Vio was in there, and maintained the hope that maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could break through the spell. Green knew better. Ganon was smart. If Vio was in there, he was buried deep. Their meager connection told him that Blue was upstairs somewhere, and absolutely furious most of the time. The times when he wasn't was when Green worried most.

Green had been mad at Link in the beginning. As time went on, however, he began to realize the futility of it all. Red didn't blame Link, because of course he wouldn't. Eventually, the anger faded and melted into the endless void of numb sorrow.

Red let out a few soft sniffles, having finally cried himself to sleep. Green sighed softly, shifting until he was able to lower Red onto the cot. He needed to finish an order of moblins spears. When he tried to stand, the hand on his arm tightened.

“D’nt leave…” Red mumbled, tears slipping down his cheeks. Green glanced to the workshop, then back to his brother. With a sigh, he lowered himself back onto the cot. Red was already back asleep by the time he brought the blanket over the both of them. Green would just have to finish the spears in the morning.

Late that night, something strange happened. A boy dressed in red shook his brother awake, pointing to a glowing portal in the middle of the workshop.

A boy in blue spat blood onto the arena sand, glaring up at his monstrous audience. Ganon only smiled cruelly, raising his hand to signal the next wave of monsters. The gate began to screech open.

The boy in blue braced himself, only to feel a rush of strange magic appear behind him. He spun to face it, snarl turning to shock when he came face to face with a divine portal. A grin split his bloody face. 

The boy wasted no time. His raised middle fingers lingered when he disappeared into the portal.

A boy in purple walked along empty halls, back straight and eyes glowing red. He carried a set of four identical swords. His eyes widened ever so slightly when the floor disappeared underneath him, and within seconds, he was gone. The portal winked out of existence after him.

Explanation: A few months after FSA (I'm basing this off the manga), Link got really lonely and depressed. In desperation, he pulled the four sword, thus releasing Ganon. Ganon kidnapped the colors and put them in the predicaments you see here. Shadow is dormant for now...

Let me know what you think! This won't become a full work, but I might post some snippets. Feel free to ask me any questions about it or write something in this universe! I think I'm going to call it Four Swords Revival AU.

[odestasocean]

may i present to you, a rant that no one asked for about the bond between annie cresta & mrs. everdeen:

so awhile ago i had sent in an ask to @the-sun-and-the-sea talking about the implied friendship that forms between annie & mrs. everdeen post-war. now that i'm no longer just a lurker on here, i wanted to delve into my thoughts on this friendship because it is one that is sooo interesting to me and one that is hardly brought up in the fandom !!

to start, mrs. everdeen is a character that i wholeheartedly believe does not get the recognition she deserves. i mean, she leaves nearly everything about the only life she had ever known to start a new life with the man she fell in love with and have two children with him only for him to die tragically, leaving her with these two young girls who need her more than anything, but her own mind becomes a prison, keeping her locked away from being the mother that katniss and prim need her to be??? or idk maybe i just have a knack for loving the grieving widowed characters in media for some reason. anyway, i digress. her story, in a way, goes hand in hand with annie's story.

now, as we know, suzanne collins' mind is an incredibly intricate and complex place so i don't think that her specifically choosing district four to be where mrs. everdeen ends up was a coincidence. which just alludes to the fact that she has now become this personified cautionary tale for annie. since she's a doctor and she's familiar with the victors by being an extension of katniss, i'm just going to assume that she was one of finnick's doctors when he was in and out of the hospital. and that she became annie's doctor after she was rescued from the capitol. i'm also just going to go ahead and assume that if this was the case, she would've remained as annie's doctor once she found out she was pregnant. this could very well be implied to have contributed to her moving to d4 and helping to build a hospital there.

annie's story is honestly just as equally familiar and unfamiliar to us as mrs. everdeen's is. we don't know how her and finnick's relationship began or what the details of her games are or what her personality was like before her games or how she grieved after finnick was gone. but with this implication of mrs. everdeen moving to annie's home district, i can only imagine that she offered a great deal of support to her. mrs. everdeen met this woman who had just endured something so insanely traumatic and was there to offer her help and witness her heal with the happiness of her new marriage, only for her to end up on the same exact path as she herself had been on for the past seven (??) years: a widowed mother with a mind who only ever seemed to experience grief.

we don't know anything about what the weeks and months were like for annie after finnick's death. but to me, it is perfectly rational to view this as a period of time where she was so shut down from wanting help from anyone and everyone and felt entirely unsure of how she was going to raise a child in this state of mind. and it wasn't until she started to talk with mrs. everdeen, who had been enduring her own grief of losing her youngest daughter, that she found someone who finally understood. someone who didn't make her feel like she was crazy for being unwilling to do anything but lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. someone who didn't view her as the Mad Girl who was now the Pregnant Mad Girl Whose Husband is Dead, but rather as an incredibly strong individual who had to fight against the enemy of her own head. someone who offered her a shoulder to cry on rather than a judgemental stare. no one could replace prim for mrs. everdeen and no one could replace annie's mother or mags in annie's case. but after all of the hardships that they had both faced up until that point, they had a shared understanding of how they could never truly move on from their grief. but they would continue on and live their lives to the best of their abilities for themselves, their children, and those they had lost.

alas, the similarities do not end there, my friends. katniss constantly talks about how much her father loved being out in nature so the wicked sense of irony of him dying so far away from that nature he loved so much is just heartbreaking. and who else do we know of that died in a place so far underground and so far away from the element of nature that he had been surrounded by his whole life?? bing, bing, bing, you guessed it! finnick odair! there's one line toward the beginning of hunger games that has always stood out to me: "it reminds me of the mines and my father, trapped, unable to reach sunlight, buried forever in darkness." replace mines with sewer and my father with finnick and boom, you've got the exact events of page 312 in mockingjay. and, of course, i can't forget the obvious-- an explosion was involved in both of their deaths. so this again just adds to my point earlier of how it feels a little too eerily similar that these four characters all share some level of commonalities for it to have been a coincidence.

anyway, not really sure what the point of me rambling about all of this was. i guess to see if anyone else has ever put that much thought into it?? or am i just looking way too far into something that's not as connected as i think it is?? idk, let me know your thoughts if you have anything to add because i could talk about this forever and ever and ever !!!

[starrbright]

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐒 || 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐄

Creatures of nightmares that crawl from nothing to land he's dealt with for so long, he himself bounded to those, unthinkable abilities he wields; he never questioned reality. But there's an impenetrable sense of high he's in as he fixes in your softness, it doesn't feel real. It's peaceful, he thinks that is what dreaming is.

Kishibe finds his demise not to be of devils, fiends, wars—not even of death.

images used: X | X

April 2023 - April and June 2024. about fucking time. to the ones that encouraged me to start writing for csm, i'm truly so sorry for the long delay. when i started this piece for him, i was focused and suddenly i wasn't and a lot kept happening and i didn't want to touch this until i was on it entirely, i wanted this to be perfect, so i shelved it. and i hope the waiting does the justice. the lack of works for this anime with us fat readers is what started this all and you encouraged me, so thank you for that🙇🏽‍♀️🙏🏼. writing the end of this was so difficult, i'm so sorry again this kept delaying.

if you've read the manga or watched the show, you may have noticed or not—and that i've only realized i didn't address reader's contract with devils in the previous works in this series and in this one, the case is still the same 😁 because, honestly, i just forgot about it. apologies for that

nearing 8k words. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color. Reader is in 50's. with two children. a ten and four years old. divorced. ex-devil hunter. kishibe hums a lot here because he does that a lot. he barely talks as well, that's how i headcanon him, i just can't see him saying too many things that wouldn't be from someone like him🙁 slight slowburn. a tiniest tinge of crack. one thing about me in my works is i will always inject my pride in my characters! masturbation. light sparring. spit play? pussy eating. fucking.

I'll be disappearing for a while for another work, this drained me. enjoy!!! as always, thoughts are more than welcome!! thank you💌

On routine, that's how Kishibe's life was, all the same everyday. Even in the unusual situations with his job, all the same as well; natural. He's not sick of it, no. He's just....bored. Sure, he gets laid most of the time, but that, too, was routine. Funny thing to say for an old man like him, who has nothing going on in his life, on purpose, chooses to be.

Though just to say the least, he's quite getting sick of the boredom. But he doesn't do anything about it, there was nothing to come across his mind. So instead, his fate did it for him.

Delivering him something new, and that something was someone.

Someone moving into the building where he lives, in the top floor he's in, no less. In a building where it looks so lonely because it was a bit far away from the city and only a few buildings were surrounded by the place. It's literally lonely, one could say, because there are only three tenants in it and he's already included among them--and said three tenants don't know each other, let alone have crossed paths before. He preferred it that way.

For probably enough time that one could bear until they went mad, it was like that.

Until it was broken off by you.

And what's new is that you're there standing in the elevator with enough bags that one could carry sitting on the floor.

You know each other. He knows you. Only a few years younger late when you got in the division from him. Never worked with you but still knew of each other. One of the reasons is because you're known in the division, respected rather. A few of the primes, same like him. But that is until you switched to working in the office rather out in the field, still you were esteemed. That was all he knew. He never paid much attention to trivial things anyway; not unless it was something he should be concerned about.

"Kishibe?" You voiced, eyebrows furrowed.

"L/N." He replied, voice ever nonchalant.

As you stepped out of the elevator, he took a few of your bags from the floor as you did and you didn't say anything to it. No such thing as shyness or awkwardness between two grown people like you, let alone that you know of each other.

"So you're the one living here?" You asked, both of you walking in the long hallway.

"And you're moving."

"Guess we weren't both told then."

"That's the rule anyway."

Confidentiality was the top rule of the apartment, no introductions, not even background checks or anything. Closed off and expensive. That piques his interest, just a little though.

Though what you both find odd—even a little amusing is how you didn't even get to see each other when the two of you figure that of the day you checked out the place. And only now. What coincidence, you supposed.

Of you seeing how he was the only one living on the floor, you spoke your thoughts. "...And I suppose you being the only one here on this floor is ruined by me." You chuckled a little.

"Doesn't seem so bad." He answered just as easily and simply. Any other time back then, he wouldn't have liked this, it would have made his eyes sharp and lips fell even lower....but today, he's not gonna complain.

You nod, a small curve of your lips turning up. "...That's good to know," you say and not a second later, you arrived at your door. "....Well, thank you."

Kishibe laid the bags inside on the floor just as you opened the door, "Hmm," he just voiced before going his way.

This didn't deter you or anything, seeming to know that he's always been that.....rather reserved, you could say....anyone will, actually.

And as you went on to fix your things up, you thought of the man. That you were surprised to see him, much more that he lives here. You weren't bothered by it...just surprised—rather curious to what comes next.

This was him after all, the prime of the primes. The so reserved man, so as you now find new (the place he lives at could say a lot already) but suppose that's normal for his age, close to your age rather and especially in the kind of work you both have, let alone his.

"Shouldn't this be interesting?" You say to yourself just as you folded the last bag to its place.

Something new is what you came here for anyway,

As night has come, you made dinner not only for yourself but as well.....well, Kishibe. You'll be living closely for such a time and it's always right to give something for your neighbour. Though at the back of your mind, you can't help but think, does he even cook? eat for himself properly? It encouraged you more to give him something. Be it as a nature of a mother, and who was once a wife, you believe.

So late of the night when the time has come that the devil hunters usually go home from work, specifically in his rank—a few minutes after that said time, you went out from your apartment to head over his. Walking down the hallway, holding the small and still heated ceramic pot. As you reached the door, you knocked, successfully.

Seconds later, the door opened to show the man, looking a bit tired more than usual, just out from his coat but still in his attire, white shirt messily opened and hair ragged.

He has always been quite handsome, hasn't he?

"I'm sorry if I disturbed but I made you something as a gift of me moving in, I suppose." You spoke, putting up the pot slightly and he eyes it down.

He only said nothing but took the casserole from your hands and just hummed, walking back in, leaving the door open for you to just stand there, contemplating to leave as you figured the man was much more....him than he was.

Then you heard him speak, his usual voice that was gruffly. "Beer?" Coming from the kitchen.

You almost chuckled in surprise, thinking for a second he'd just leave without saying anything and now he offers you beer. Daring to take that as an invitation, you went in and closed the door. "I'm fine, thank you." You answer as you follow where he was. You see him took out a glass pitcher from the fridge and was holding a glass in his other hand, pouring the water in it as he put it on the table just beside the bottled and unopened beer.

Kishibe was a bit surprised, if he admits so. He actually thought you would have gone along just like everyone does.....just as he does normally. But here you are now, just at his door earlier, offering him a gift you made for him. So yes, he was surprised.

Opening the glass bottled beer, he took a light sip from it before opening the casserole that stood out on the table...well it was empty anyway. It was pasta, something he haven't had in a while, and something he'd devour in a while as he was damn hungry and haven't had dinner yet.

.....He was liking this new thing already.

The savoury scent immediately flourishes in the air, putting off the smell of musk and alcohol of the place. Kishibe didn't mind, though he just went to the wide terrace that lets the wind come in strongly, you follow shortly and he leans on the railings, a cigarette already in his mouth.

You placed yourself a bit far across from where he was leaning your waist back on the railings, the sound of night faint in the background. "How long have you been living here?" You asked.

The man let out the smoke before answering, still looking ahead, "Don't exactly count it,"

You nod, looking at him for a second as you lightly chuckled, uttering a small, "Of course."

Kishibe then gave you a side glance, looking at the view again. "Why'd you choose this?"

"I wanted to be away from the city but not so far that it'll be inconvenient for me and my children, and there this place was."

This made his eyebrows furrow but he wasn't looking at you, though you saw that. "They're separated from me as I'm divorced from my ex-husband....let him gain custody of them." You spoke but just stopped there, not wanting to say too much.

He looks at you this time, not tearing it away. "Is that why you switched to the office?"

Trivial things....trivial things he doesn't get involved with, nor even asked questions about.....but maybe this one won't change a thing and normal he thought it was to be curious at the very moment.

"Yes," That's what you only answer, he doesn't ask more and just looked away from you. Only smoke lingers in the air, no sense of any discomfort but you're both just there.

Until you spoke again, "I'll be off now, good night." You bid as you crossed your arms over your robes and stood up straight before walking. You only hear him hum as you did.

It was the beginning of a new thing to become a routine.....one that he wouldn't be sick of.

As it was the same for you. Just after finally settling down, your new abode made, you began to get more comfortable in the place. That meant with your neighbour. Well, maybe not so much but just enough to give him what you cook when you have time to make such meals at night. Just enough to let yourself in his place as every time you brought him something. Always in the terrace, the man will always smoke and drink his beer or just from his flask, and you'd just be there, not talking of anything but work, at least after a few nights then you both began speaking of said work, all the ordeals you go through...but still words were only kept short and few.....and just only that.

.

.

.

Stacked papers in your hands piled up on your arms as you're in the elevator, just walking out of it when it reaches your floor. Just as you're halfway in the hallway, Kishibe walks out of his place and he stops when he sees you, looks at his watch then back to you, not even fazed with the countless papers you have.

This makes you chuckle, slowing down. "Yes, my office was quite busy this afternoon because of the new recruits and what happened in the city." You spoke, Kishibe barely tuts his head, knowing how paperworks after hunting, its casualties and much more that comes with it—can be a bitch.

Figuring that with how late it is and the fact the man has been getting his dinner from what you've been giving him lately—you asked simply. "Are you getting dinner?"

That and maybe getting laid, he's had a damn day after that shit happened in the city. But maybe not tonight after all.

Kishibe took some of the papers and folders from you and began to walk towards your door. "What are you making?"

Your lips curved slightly, "Harako Meshi, been a while since I've had it and my friend gave me sake, so I figured."

Kishibe doesn't think there's been a second for him to think that he hasn't liked it every time you bothered him ever since you showed up. Yeah, he can't see that he'll be getting sick of this thing soon.

There he smokes on your balcony just as he laid the papers and folders on the table in the living room. And you're already in the kitchen just after you changed into a more comfortable clothes....a clear view of you as you work.

Your space was much more different from his ( Untouched and just left how it was. Dull. ) you damn turned the place upside down, one wouldn't think this one room was inside a soulless building. It reeks of home.

Home. He's unfamiliar with that since he was young and until now, let alone of the very word.

Kishibe sought to think how someone like you could still be in this kind of life. And he thought he's thinking enough, so he turned to the view and took a long drag.

You weren't oblivious to his stare, it doesn't bother you. Clear was how you hear his unspoken thoughts, it doesn't bother you as well. Anyone would think the same.

As you continue to work in the kitchen, you thought....how long it must have been for him since he's been in a home.....to feed well. A part of you smiles in daring to hope to give him a taste of it...no matter how...cruel it was if one were to see it in the other way. Give the satiated man he knows he doesn't...wouldn't...couldn't have.

Your conscience lies in just doing something nice for him.

You begin to prepare the table and Kishibe walks in, unhesitantly bringing some of the things you made on the table and the sake, of course. Now there you both are sitting across from each other and started to eat.

"I've heard that you'll be training the two recruits." You spoke.

Kishibe nods as he continues to eat-he really was damn glad he didn't go out. "Two fiends, nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sure." You spoke mindlessly....then you speak again. "She's planning something, isn't she?"

"She's always planning something."

That much was unfortunately and thankfully known. "Teach the boy well."

"I'll give him hell."

"You better."

You two didn't even miss a beat.

Kishibe's lips almost quirked as he drank. It was...quite...good to know that there lies an agreement between the dangerous notion. Nothing but truth in your voice as you speak every time....expectedly rare in the life of you both live.

"You stayed even if the cause of your separation is because of it." He spoke, no tone of anything but just his own voice.

Again, you were quite surprised as he said that, clearly not expecting him to take any interest, let alone even a bit of curiosity from him. But you didn't show it, nor were you offended by what he asked.

"Because this way, I can still protect them without risking my life so much before and not worry them anymore."

Of course.

"You and Quanxi were a loss to both the divisions." He'll give you that much.

And you were proud for that one. "We're all lucky that they let me switch without anything in return and that you remained to shoulder all the shit."

He couldn't agree more.

Now you both are done eating, with you fixing up the table and Kishibe on your balcony once again smoking—before you join him, nothing but the distant sounds of the city.

"Hayakawa?" You asked.

"Close."

"Have you warned Himeno?"

"He's set straight to it. Screws all lose."

You took a sharp breath from your nose as you looked up at the sky. "Kind boy," you spoke mindlessly.

Kishibe just hums as he let out his smoke. Silence came in and it was welcomed..a few more while, his cigarette ran dry....and there he bids. "Good night," and you just stood there still ahead to the view and him not sparing a glance as he spoke.

Normal night, you supposed.

Work was work. Walking in the corridors in the division, headed to your office...Kishibe was there walking in your opposite direction. As you both continue to walk, no glances were made but kept straight. A few times in that and left in the back of your minds.

And...now...he walks in the elevator of the apartment just as you did earlier seconds ago.

"You making something?" he asks as the elevator closes. It seems he likes your cooking more than you thought.

You hum, nodding. "Vegetable curry."

Kishibe raises his brow, "At night?"

You chuckle a little, "It seems so."

He just hums.

As you now cook in your kitchen, the door is left opened for the man who is still yet to come.

Then, what an odd mixture of the night was; aroma of the dish, cigarette and alcohol. It was welcomed nonetheless.

.

.

.

For some fucking reason...Kishibe hasn't had sex for a while...well...ever since you moved in, that is. And he's a simple man but dumb...he knows the reason why; you. Some fucking reason, huh.

Blind. The notion coming as unexpected...maybe...but is it really unexpected...really?

After all, what is to be expected when two grown people share the same floor together, what is to be expected when each night they share dinner together...what is to be expected when those two persons have some needs and those needs untouched?

Yeah, you. You've been...having thoughts about the man, you weren't bothered by it...if anything, again, you deemed it normal...and you aren't denying it as well. The man is fucking appealing. You know you can't blame yourself for it and you don't. But of course, that doesn't mean you'd act upon it. You are in need, needy, sure...maybe even aching but you have your....yes—your pride.

Oh, you're well aware that there lingers something in the air, it's palpable but still subtle...however hidden, it's there and you feel it. You both do.

But what does Kishibe do? Nothing. Went with his day and night like his mind hasn't thought of running his cock through a certain fucking someone. He's not exactly sure of what's keeping him from doing the exact thing.

But what's not keeping himself from doing is letting his hand go down on him, his free hand loosening his tie as he sits back on his couch lazily. Hardened length straining so tight against his boxers and black slacks.

"Hmghm..." He groans. That sinful sound...that rumbles through his chest so good even with his lips just closed. Kishibe took his already lit cigarette from the ashtray on his table, taking a long drag as he continues to palm himself. His fingers firmly pressing on his clothed cock.

He let out the smoke from his mouth. Pent up heat in him almost leaving along with the smoke, staring to nothing at the ceiling, his eyes clearly seeing your tempting figure. Engraved you were in his mind, he can thank himself for always letting his eyes linger on you, taking you all in when he stands on your balcony as you cook in your kitchen. Not turning his gaze away anymore ever since his...needs gotten the best of him and satisfied his eyes.

With one hand, he unhooked his belt and took seconds to free his aching cock, standing proud and leaking already. Kishibe closed his eyes, his head still laid back on the couch, exhaling deeply once his fingers wrapped on his base...allowing whatever was enabling him to feel it as your own fingers, it slides down so slowly, the closed palm confining his cock so warm and good, what he has been depriving of.

Your hands....your hands that moves fluidly when you handle your cooking, his mind flashing him visions that your hands are on his cock whenever he's there in your balcony.

Kishibe takes another long drag as he continues to suffocate his cock, still so slow, up and down, a strained groan this time as he slowly let out the smoke, eyes still closed. Feeling your hand go a bit fast now. Sweat and pre coating his length and your plush skin, it makes his chest start to rise and fall now. Droplets of sweat gathering on his skin and it drips down from his neck to his chest and down to his abdomen.

A rhythm being found. Still not that fast but enough...so enough to build fire in him as you circle your closed palm on him up and down, all while you run your thumb on his tip every time.

.....The fuck you do to him...penting him up just by watching you cook there...a humanly ritual...a domestic act...one he was barely familiar of and he's getting all hot about it. The cigarette he takes is blameless for it, but what he's familiar of humanly ritual...is need.

And what he needs is release.

Kishibe's throat strains as he hums….an animalistic growl as the ministrations on his cock continues. The pace still the same but filling in his peak slowly, and he likes it that way. Just as how the alcohol he drinks burn slowly in him. He savours it each and every time, just like right now, Kishibe feels you take your sweet time fisting him hard and steady. His tip continuously leaking, leaking more each time the pads of your fingers would go over his tip and press on it.

He held his cigarette with two fingers as that same hand reached out to get his glass on the table. Taking a drink of his whiskey as your hand never stops on him. Fucking hell...that flaring smoke of his cigarette, the alcohol, the burning waves from his straining cock, it engulfs him, enough...more than enough to send any being into euphoria. Deep and long groans rumbles from him as he feels it all, his throat and all the way down, burns. Clenching him.

However he was drowning in fire already, however enough it was...he wants more...he wants more than your hand. So what he does is grab the crown of your head and make you take his cock into your mouth, fingers gripping your hair to guide you in. Lips sliding against his thick and long length, tongue flat above him, the walls of your mouth and the end of your throat. "Fuck." Kishibe growls, the glass got put down on the table too hard that it might have cracked, his cigarette almost falling from his fingers.

Gurgled sounds vibrates through him and he hears it, he hears you. His grip on your hair strong as ever so as to keep the pace going, fast and hard, he assaults your mouth, his drips spilling to your tongue, down to your throat. His peak long gone from burning tantalizingly slow and turned to wildfire, overflowing, his hips now twitching, rising to make the pressure he gets in your mouth stay. Kishibe feels your breath going away as he doesn't let you breathe but just continues to hold your hair so tight, still making you take him. He can't lose his end...so whatever what was left in him is now gone as he moves his hips to fuck your mouth better. Slowly he does while he makes yours only faster and harder if it's still possible.

"Mhmgr fuck..." His growling sounds never stops as it continues, his hips slapping to you, abusing your mouth with his cock again and again. It didn't take much longer for him to see his release; all of him strongly clenched as his cock stilled in you, reaching the end of your throat, he feels it go down while his cum flows in you. The cigarette on his fingers now being crushed in his hand as he closed his fist so tight, the burning pain on his skin was nothing as he stays in his high, cock flinching in you while his lower body continues to slowly move against you to feel it all.

"Mgrhm…” It's what echoed in his walls continuously, his chest slowly comes down from its rising and falling, shirt soaked with sweat, hair falling with droplets of it as well.

"Kishibe."

He hears you call out to him from your kitchen. Dead eyes, he looks to you. "I think you wasted your cigarette." You nod to his cigarette on his hand...and as he now noticed, realized—it was crushed by his strongly closed fist, burning his skin once more. Kishibe opened his hand, showing his long before scarred flesh now freshly tainted...bits of its remains falling...because he was thinking of having your hand on his cock and fucking your mouth last night when he was only doing it by himself.

His thoughts long left to ashes the moment he stood in your balcony once again this night.

He needs to end this. He will have you soon.

Anticipation fills you. You know one way or another something will happen, you don't know when but you know it's hanging on by a thread...it has your heart racing...and your cunt beating.

The air of the night was fucking thick as you eat together.

And it's getting thicker with each passing second as the morning comes. It had to be fucking Saturday, where it's both your day off. But thankfully...as fucked up as it's sounds, you'd be luckily distracted as your two children will come over in the afternoon. And hopefully, he won't be in his place or anything to not cross paths with him today. The last thing you want right now is to see him at the moment...some part of you knows that if you do—it would be not too different from your thoughts.

But even that, of course...us creatures are nothing to the will of time; just another words to say it ended how one would normally expect. Bumping into each other...well, not exactly that, maybe worse than it. With him walking into your place with your two children walking in front of him.

The moment you heard a heavy footsteps along with a light and rapid ones, your eyebrows furrowed as you took a few steps aside to see who it was and you almost dropped the tray of freshly baked cookies from your hands as your eyes met his.

It took you not even a second to figure out the reason what's happening right now; you let your children just play around and inevitably went out of your place to go and play around on the floor. Either they knocked on his door or ran into him—either way, you knew your children likes to be friendly...and that says a lot, given how only a few children would approach a man like Kishibe.

You should have known better.

Though what could you have done to avoid it from happening, anyways. Finding your composure inside of you. "Tell me they just ran into you and didn't knock on your door." You spoke, laughing lightly as you went back to work.

"They knocked," Kishibe answers simply, as always.

"Yes, of course." You nod as a little laugh escapes you once more. Setting the cookies on the cooling rack. The sounds of your children in the background as Kishibe now stood in your kitchen, leaning the back of his waist on the counter, his eyes on you.

You were glowing...he hasn't noticed that before. He's sure he hasn't heard you laugh that much as well, probably normally because of your children...something is gotta be wrong with him...no, that's just his...desires that's making him notice.

You could strangle yourself right now, maybe even do something worse, because what the fuck is his problem staring at you while you're trying your best to not even so much show an ounce of waver in your composure and you know he knows what he's doing. What the fuck is he even gonna do here?

...Yeah, your mind was all over the place and that has rarely happened before, almost never. Yet you can't find the urge...the guts to ask him why he's staying right now this time.

Instead, you fucking ask him if he wants coffee, he just nods as he took one of your cookies.

Maybe...he stayed for your cookies

You almost bash your head on the counter as the thought occurred.

The kettle made its noise and you made your coffees. "You gonna have them over for dinner?" He asked.

"Mmnn, yes," you answer. But you hesitate to ask if he'll join.

"What are you making?" he asks once more. Your lips quirked as your mouth is now close to your cup. Well, you didn't have to worry about that after all.

"Pasta. It's their favourite." You spoke. And Kishibe remembers the night you gave him that dish. He still has the taste at the end of his tongue when he lets you in his door, he cannot wait to taste it again.

Which he does as the night falls, with your children across from both of you as your besides each other this time. The laughter of you and your children...it's nice. Pasta and among other things he can barely remember the names of, nonetheless he eats so well. Lots of it tastes unfamiliar and yet it's so welcoming...he wants more of it.

Kishibe's mind is stirring, the smoke is fogging his mind, so as he believes....or something must be in your food—he's really losing it.

And through his silence with only little of his words, through his eyes with your subtle glances besides him; you see through him. It almost worries you...you really gave him a taste of it. Where it goes from here next, you don't know but possibilities, of course, runs in your mind...more possibilities.

And it fueled even more when you caught a glimpse of his eyes when you got embraced and kissed by your ex-husband as he arrived to pick up your children...and Kishibe met your gaze as your former lover did.

The mere act alone...nothing needed to be said more.

The night hangs quiet when your children goes with their father, with Kishibe still there with you. If it was possible, the beating of your heart could echo loudly in your place as you fix up the table, with him following you to do the same, it's the first time he helped you with it....it's enough to say what it could possibly mean.

The glasses in your hand clang against one another as your said hand trembles a little to lay it down in the sink, while he walks close to you to put the plates in it as well. You're both so close to each other. He towers over you, he's just that damn tall. Kishibe only stands there as you did, his eyes looming above and behind you, his breathing turning deep that it was now heard in the deafening silence.

He can have you right there and then. Be relieved of his insanity.

Yet instead he speaks, "How long has it been since you sparred?"

Your mouth has already exhaled a light laugh before you could stop yourself. "It has...been quite some time."

In his mind, what he's to do could compensate for what he doesn't yet—"Why? You gonna run my memory?"

Before you know it, you're trapped by the counter and him, the edge of a knife on your throat, your hand on his wrist firmly—your eyes dead on him in sheer stun, laced with thin provocation. Seeing his gaze doesn't change at all; it was more maddening. "You doubted me." You at last utter in a calculating disbelief, your fingers tightening around his grip.

Kishibe lives by your nerves resonating through him, they're loud and strong because of him. It feeds him. "I wondered." He spoke, still having the blade directly on you.

You don't feel anything from him but now that the proximity grants you to fully look him in the eyes, you can finally see he's burning.

The evidence is more worrying than the weapon dying for your throat.

"That's wounding." You breathe.

"Everything is."

You only scoff at his reply, before your other free hand swiftly went to get another knife of his from one of his pocket and aimed it for the side of his head—only for him to stop it by his hand that once trapped you, his hold just effortlessly firm, barely a strength to keep you from driving the blade in his brain.

Even when you never worked together, your reputation has never doubted you and that he can see now right in front of him.

"Proof enough?" You ask.

Not enough of you.

He only huffed a short hum. Just like that, he retracts the knife against you and that you held against him. "Good night."

Not now. Not yet. The burning in him, he wants to feel it more before anything.

The exchange has you falling to your knees as your hands weakly hold on the sink. A warning for what's to come more.

What deprivation can do to a being.

Yes, indeed what it can do to a being; it has Kishibe filling his glass with whiskey, trying to wash away whatever he's thinking, whatever he's feeling. But no matter how many downs he takes, it doesn't go away, it won't, it can't. Especially not when the sight of you and your ex-husband...lovingly held each other, even when it was short, it was undeniable there was.....love between you both still. He doesn't know the bits of your remaining relationship with your ex-husband, but he sees well enough that there isn't something between you both....and yet, when he saw that sight, it bothered him, something went off.

Another man clinging to you like that, it comes crashing down. It's getting ridiculous. He's gonna turn into ashes if he continues to let this burn.

Icarus' wings could only bear so much of the sun after all.

.

.

.

The day is going too fucking slow and it's driving you crazy. You're at work and you haven't even had a glimpse of him in the apartment nor at work. Just what is happening to you, acting like a damn puppy who can't seem to keep it in. It has you tired as you come home. Heels heavy as you walk through the corridors, eyes lingering to his door as you pass by.

You were left nowhere but to wait. So wait you did. Your door left open—you begin to prep for dinner after taking a long time under the water, composure building up again all while. But of course, your mind was still somewhere else, your insides never stopping of its fluttering as you mindlessly go.

By doing that, it was only a mere expectation of yours for it to now actually happen.

Though a complete lack on your part, really, that even with years of being a hunter and still having whatever you've learned and throughout all the years even when you switched from being one—you missed that someone has walked in your place.

Now you find yourself suddenly dropping the knife you were washing, the water left running as you felt a strong presence loom behind you. You stood there unmoving, breath caught in your throat the moment you felt it. Felt him.

The seconds turned slow but your heart was the opposite being filled with...thrill. "Kishibe." A breathless murmur echoes faintly but he hears it greatly and there comes his rope snapping. Your voice that's been plaguing him, it finally mutes everything.

Kishibe laid his hand on your right arm and the other around your waist as he pulled you tightly close against him, immediately meshing his fingers on your belly. Your breath being taken away from you again. He won't say he can't believe what's happening because he expected the boundness when he grew close to you.

His hand on your arm has been rising up, rough palm on your skin, his grasp heavy; feeling the softness of the fat on your arm to your shoulder, kneading you there with his mouth heated on the side of your forehead. "Been too long." In a low breath he says as he continues to tightly caress on your shoulder, before going down to slip under your dress then slipping his fingers in your bra, his thumb and index finger now playing with your nipple, the rest of his palm fondling your breast.

Creatures of nightmares that crawl from nothing to land he's dealt with for so long, he himself bounded to those, unthinkable abilities he wields; he never questioned reality. But there's an impenetrable sense of high he's in as he fixes in your softness, it doesn't feel real. It's peaceful, he thinks that is what dreaming is.

"I think it's just about time." You merely replied, finding your hand relying firmly on his nape, as the other reaches for the faucet to stop the running water while he goes on. Your waked mind still there before you let yourself go in a haze later.

Kishibe ghosts his face down on the side of yours, his nose breathing you in so much before he opens his eyes and looks at your lips—then to your gaze.

He feels foolish again but he feels it more so the more he thinks about it, so he just simply kisses you now.

It has been too long.

It's humorous; a simple kiss making you want to fall on your knees.

The remnants of cigarette and whiskey you're now familiar with, you can taste with mouths being held together, and he begins with mildly sucking you. His hand that was groping on your belly trails up to your neck, pushing his mouth to yours even more as he drags it open—only to suck your lips once again out of hunger that he spills freely, swallowing roughly each kiss he takes after the other, soaking his dry mouth with you—only then he uses his tongue against yours, tangling on one another, roaming it inside you, swimming his tongue in whatever saliva that gathers in your mouth. Dragging you in.

A simple kiss.

So much for it when you pull away before you could no longer breathe—your chest heaves, lips parted with air heavily leaving in and out of you. He's no different; gaze darkened as blown, you could almost hear the growl that threatens to echo from him, his grip creasing on your neck to your nape and he turns you around to face him. He pushes you just slightly to put the back of your waist against the edge of the sink, leaning his body down so he's levelled to you.

The hand of yours on his neck slides to lay it on the side of his face, it's the first time you're looking at each other this long, for more than five seconds directly, let alone this close, gazes straight through your souls. Kishibe always looks at the person he talks to straight at them without falter, and you've seen that having him done it to you only a few times, before you both always turn your eyes away as the days kept going. Now you see all of him as he allows himself.

A voracious kiss.

When has a man been so…..desperate?

When have you ever been so wanting? Shameless; rapid, messy, strong, wet.

Drowning in need you seek. Your sex has long gone weeping in your panties. Kishibe’s throbbing cock only soothed by the tightness of his clothes below, even as he was starting to drip of his own arousal, he just left it before he took you up to lay your back on the counter after suffocating your lungs in that kiss, simply pushing off the things that's there and shattered on the floor but never parting his mouth away from you, from your face, your neck, to your chest and belly while his hands took off your undergarments below as he goes down more.

It's incomprehensible. Your fate that brought you upon him, that has led to a path of the Kishibe barely on his knees to finally have a taste of your pussy. The feeling of his mouth and tongue latched on your cunt the first second was already the last thread of your hold on your existence. That hold became your fingers wading through his hair, thighs already trembling in his tight grasp, sounds of pleasure etched to your erratic breathing.

Kishibe is not at all rough when he began—subdued; each kiss he gives, each suck he takes is heavy. He doesn't want to rush. He has suffered to simply hurry and not feel every thrum he could get. His wide and long tongue flat on your whole mound, drinking your slick with each drag he licks, his stubble grazing against the hair and flesh of your cunt.

There's no words from you both, it doesn't exist. Only flesh and unruly power that conjured from your desires. Only the sounds of a hungry man one with his devils as he feeds.

It begins to rise more, the fire your body collects, his ceaseless hunger. Your grip on his hair deepening. The grind of your hips for your cunt to ride his face. The unstoppable tremble of your limbs as you move against him, thighs barely clutching to his head despite his hurtful grip to keep your sex tact to him. The repeating shock and clenching of your pussy with each spit he threw. His mouth nor breath not once waver until he gave your end, only for him to take it out of you again and again. All numb, nerves just wildly spiking everywhere within you—pussy left raw and still weeping, throat dry and eyes in tears.

However his boundless hunger, his mouth is at least given a little bit of your pussy for now for it to be enough and move next. So Kishibe then stood up, your tearful eyes following. It remains unreal to you. His lips so red, half of his face soaked. He swipes his thumb on his cheek, jaw and to his chin, catching what drips from his mouth of the myriad of your cum and swallowed it like the rest. Before that same hand ran over his dishevelled wet hair, and simply took off his tie in one go. Eyes kept on one another the whole moment.

You no longer own your breath….the sounds you've been making…the fog clears more, blinking the tears away, the coldness of the metal in spite of all the heat, your dress clinging on your skin, drenched with sweat; there's a little of shame that seeps back in you.

But you don't turn away from his gaze. Kishibe holds it. You follow him. It took you that long to make a decision. Desirably, you accept it.

Amusing as it is for Kishibe seeing you unfold, he doesn't know how much longer he could stand to not just fuck you senseless. The sound of his belt snapping as he took it off from his pants wakes you up. “Done being in your head?”

Coherent words exist again. You tirelessly breathe out a little laugh, “Barely.” You keep cursing in your head and they're louder now as he frees himself.

He couldn't help the tut on the edge of his lips when he saw the fleeting look of stun from you once he now held his cock. “Just about time, huh?” he plainly taunts as he spits on his palm before he strokes himself.

It's been so long. And he's damn big.

“Fuck you.” You scoffed.

Kishibe swears there was laughter that swirled inside him but didn't reach his mouth. Only the strain in your breath as his left hand gave your still drooling cunt attention again, your body involuntarily tensing before easing again while he slid two of his thick fingers in and barely loosened you up for just mere seconds.

The bits of pain remains treads you on edge, expecting it to double soon. His blood prevails to course so explosively.

You both expected it, nonetheless still by the skin of teeth when Kishibe grazed his cock in. Your walls a soaked and snug furnace, barely halfway—"Fucking,” he trailed off in a mutter, the fingers of his left hand digging on your thigh, the other lightly choking your throat. Each trudge he makes fill the fullness of your cunt takes. It's plain insanity.

“Just about time, huh?” You get back, barely.

Kishibe's laugh is at last freed. It really is madness. It was just an air of laugh, teeth shown; it was priceless. One that you beheld before he just plunges in with no more room left for hesitation. “You fucking—” you growled after he slammed into you, your sudden glare sharply closing as your body took in that shocking goodness against the pain.

“This is nothing yet.”

It is.

It was.

But once again when he began, it's slow and kept. The sting that drags melts more to tight fondling sensations from every thrust he pushes deep in your pussy. You didn't think you would have had a cock fuck you to be this staggering, render you brainless—or more so believe it that's it now happening after having……fantasized of it. Kishibe's cock feeds your pussy so well. You keep him in too well. Soon then again, his abilities are not held back and it's just quite pitiful how you're holding back to not just already break and cum for the nth time. It doesn't matter to him, not really—he wants nothing more than to wring you empty for him.

That's just what he does. He let it go by unsaid as he kept fucking you, making you break no sooner. Your mind barely comprehends he's kissing you as your cum spills and he's still ramming again and again, not making you ride your high, letting his drool make a mess on your mouth again.

You don't stop him however, nor you could in your state. And when he reaches his first end, how is it still possible you break more? Kishibe's left hand holding a death grip on the edge of the counter above your head once he stilled deep inside you, his pulsing cock floods your pussy of his cum. Much of it. He'll be moulding you to a greedy creature in no time, meeting his own ruin. Eyes mirroring too clearly upon one another. You're far gone than you'd have thought you'd be with him, and you don't want to ever go back.

Kishibe has long made that decision before he invaded your home tonight.

The high strongly lingers, still burrowing himself in you before he slowly moves and relives that beating high again. Thick drools of hotness webs in your walls that keeps you full even as he pulls out entirely and seeps out from your folds.

Heats still raging and barely satiated after having much of it.

Your kitchen is a mess and reeking of sex. He takes you standing and bent over the counter after, easily holding you up as he railed you like so, drenching your cunt again with his cum. Keeping his prowess in his wield, when he just carried you to your living room after and had you on his lap as he sat on a couch. Your clothes finally ripped off of you and had you bare as you rode him while he watched and felt the glory. Remnants of your sex left on the couch when he took yourselves to your bedroom, taking you again with your face buried in the sheets, back arched for him as he fucked you from behind. And when you both break again, he doesn't stop, instead loomed himself over your back and still delved his cock in and out endlessly while cum flows out messily, your loud moans strained from his hand squeezing your throat and head deep on the bed. Even as the dawn rises, Kishibe remains.

No end in sight.

[thurio-edau]

SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS

sorry for the delay!

alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇

Part 3: Ben Clark

oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.

let's start. first, what is PTSD?

PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.

Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.

the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.

in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.

yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)

okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.

this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.

Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.

another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.

to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.

but what about his family?

families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?

yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.

but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.

his parents?

we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.

yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.

first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?

Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.

they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.

Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.

and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-

side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.

so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.

guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.

she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)

Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.

to wrap it all up.

Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.

(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"

but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)

and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.

-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-

[hatterladz]

Ok now my actual thoughts

Spoils for 357

I'm gonna focus this on the fight. Now as much as Oswald completely INFURIATED me this chapter, I can't just walk away saying he's the worst. Listen I analyze problematic characters for a hobby I can't just wash my hands and walk away because someone did something that made me mad.

I can see why it spiralled so quickly on both parts, Fanny is struggling to get a foothold in her life [god the part of her wanting to cry about getting actual support bc she never had any is so SO relatable]. I mean she left her husband the previous night, is now being bodyguarded by the brother of the person she barely gets around to apologizing to, got fired got hired again at the Quester's House and is watching and seeing how unique every one of the sick are when her ex walks in out of nowhere.

She's reeling, I imagine her emotional regulation is shot to hell and back and then Oswald tells her hey you know this super nice good thing that JUST happened to you? You don't deserve it.

Now onto Oswald. Oswald walks in trying to help Felix. And I mentioned it before reading the chapter, Oswald has the worst habit of assuming and acting on his preconceived sense of justice before actually figuring things out. He has good intentions just the WORST way of acting on it

And to him, the Fanny he knows is the one from his toxic relationship with her. The Fanny he remembers wasn't ever a nurse, hadn't gone through the same recent events that she just did to make her the very slightly better person she is now. As absolutely rage enducing that he was, there wasn't a sign of him trying to start something.

He was trying to avoid other people being hurt. Through terrible means. Because he remembers how much Fanny hurt him.

Fanny, after having everything happen to her that just did and then her ex walking through the door and saying "You're too bad of a person to have this good thing" AFTER Cup just tried to assure her she just had to do better AFTER Red offered her a job because her friend knows and AFTER she just got invited to this warm family dinner. And the more Oswald pushed the more he emphasized that point.

And the more he said it the more Fanny fell back on both of their old patterns. Snapping back over and over until Oswald threatens to bring in her awful father and until she also brings up Felix.

Now I'm going to be honest while the threat is there along with the intent, I'm sure Felix and Oswald will be fine. There's a good chunk of zanies, who won't care, people who live with zanies who will be forced to get over it and the questers maybe not without knowing from the others, have long since grown past being homophobic [asides maybe Boris but I don't see him being homophobic] or weren't in the first place

The house will keep the gossip under control, there might be a slip but I doubt Red or Oddswell will let that fly. But I could be wrong we'll see. At the very least Bendy won't be and we've already seen how much sway he has over the household.

Now onto the respective parties reactions. Felix running out isn't surprising and I doubt it's just because he's bi. He just watched the man he brought into the house to come support him start harrassing this woman seemingly for no reason, and then got outted and told he looks like Ortensia. Because let's be real, although Felix is told he is REMINDED of Oswald's wife he's never been told he looks IDENTICAL to her. And he just watched said man try to hit this girl.

Now I'm going to give Fanny some credit here, she's dealing with her toxic ex but not ONCE does she let Cup get involved. Every moment it looks like he's about to prior to Oswald's attempt to hit her, she sees it and cuts Cup off. And I'm happy for her for that, she really does care about Cup's wellbeing that when she sees him about to get involved in her mess she prevents it from happening.

Now what took me by surprise is it wasn't Oswald that left, it was Fanny. Fanny was the one who left out of shame [who could blame her], and Fanny was the one who tells Cup to leave since she's in a toxic mindset. I was also curious as to why Mugs didn't try to follow her out instead of Cup, since Mugs is her bodyguard and seemed pretty insistent on keeping Cup uninvolved. Something tells me he's sticking around for the Oswald situation, or maybe that's wishful thinking.

Still maintaining my love hate relationship of Cup getting further and further involved with Fanny. He's trying hard to be a good friend to her, he cares a lot and he wants to help because Fanny's situation is one he can try to understand and help with. However it does mean it can get messy, especially with the divorce and people see the two together.

[meraki-yao]

Ok I got four asks in my inbox about the new Nick interview and I'm actually mad. I'm actually livid and exasperated because I've been getting and answering similar asks over and over again, and yet people still come to me with the same statement and the same conviction EVEN AFTER I POINTED OUT EVERY FUCKING FACT THAT CONTRADICTS IT.

Do you really need a 19-year-old to teach you reading comprehension and media literacy?

Ok, fine.

Statement One: Nick doesn't appreciate RWRB, he's brushing it aside, which is why it wasn't mentioned in the New York Times

One: Editorials don't always portray the actual thoughts or agenda of the interviewee.

Unlike a video interview or a podcast interview where we can hear the whole conversation directly from Nick with his voice, and even if there are cuts and edits we can pick it up via visual or audio continuity, in a written editorial the only thing we can rely on is the writer's words, or in other words, the writer's paraphrase or quotation of what Nick said to him. This gives much bigger room for any changes or manipulation in content because we have nothing else to reference.

It is clear that in the past three editorials, the writer or the magazine itself has deliberately demeaning and devaluing RWRB. In NY Magazine, it was only mentioned in one line and degraded to "a queer take on a common straight trope" (see the choice of word "president's daughter"), with the implication being at its core, it's a straight story/ reliant on past straight stories to be interesting; Hunger Magazine calls it fujoshi-pleasing (fujoshi: Japanese slang, denoting how a straight woman who enjoys fictional gay content is "rotten", too ruined to be married, an insult to both the audience/fans and the movie itself ); and this time New York Magazine didn't even mention RWRB, when let's be honest, it's Nick's biggest breakout role.

"Once Is Chance, Twice is Coincidence, Third Time's A Pattern" this is deliberate. I can't say what the agenda is, my guess is some extent of latent homophobia, but it's clear that this is a fucking pattern. In fact, besides the hidden agenda of devaluing RWRB, these editorials show another hidden agenda, but that's something for a later day. PM me id you want to now, I won't discuss that one on my public platform yet.

Again, there is so much more room for twisting and hiding words in a written editorial. In all the video interviews Nick did, especially in the UK, when has he ever avoided a question about RWRB? When has he ever not shown gratitude towards the project?

Two: In all video evidence that can't be manipulated, that clearly shows Nick's own thoughts which not influenced by any other party, he has made it clear that he adores RWRB.

Why else would he sign books during the M&G London premiere, going as far as to stay behind after the event just to sign books? Same with the LA M&G premiere and TIOY premiere: those were promotions for other projects, he had a valid reason to refuse to sign the RWRB books and posters, but he didn't, always signing with a big smile on his face, even playfully signing on Taylor's face. He said it himself in his Instagram post, and I quote: "The love that Henry has received has been one of the most heartwarming things to watch. It's been difficult to not talk about him. So thank you for seeing him for all he is. He was a joy to bring to life." There's your proof, directly from the man himself.

Statement Two: Nick's not interested in doing a sequel, he said he's done playing princes and he's done playing romantic leads

One: "Done playing princes" doesn't mean literally done playing princes, it means he wants to try more roles and not be stuck with only being known as the "prince" guy. (even though he's literally a prince lol)

Plus, he said that after Robert, but then Henry came along and he was attracted to Henry as a character with his scared but loving heart. He doesn't just view Henry as a prince, he views Henry as a complex, delicate person who so happens to be a prince. Him saying he's done playing princes means in the future, he doesn't really want another royal on his filmography, but this doesn't mean he doesn't want to continue Henry's story. With the given context, namely asking him about future projects he wants to take up, "he's done playing princes" and "he doesn't want to play Henry anymore" are not mutually inclusive.

Two: "Done playing romantic leads" means he wants to try new things and take up new projects that aren't romance films.

This doesn't include the continuation of already established characters i.e. sequels, this just means if he were to take up brand new projects, he wants to try something else. Sequels are inherently different from new projects because again, sequels are based on already established characters.

Three: He said several times ON VIDEO that he'd be in for a sequel

In this one, when asked if he'd be up for a sequel, he said, and I quote "Look, I think with any opportunity of doing a sequel, I think, you know, the script has to be right. But obviously, it was so lovely to see how many people it touched and having that resonance is incredibly important to me, so, yeah. Of course."

In this one, when asked if they have had conservation on a potential sequel, he said, and again I quote: "Yeah, I mean definitely had conversations. I think we're all on the same page in the sense that, you know, the script needs to be right, and sort of all the different components need to be right because we made something that has such a positive effect and I think the last thing you'd wanna do is ruin that or take that in a way, so, you know, the conversations are definitely being had."

And there are more videos from red carpet interviews that I can't be bothered to find right now but he says more or less the same thing.

(look I even transcribed it)

Not only is he on board with a sequel, he's also being careful about it to make sure once they do get to making it, it's something good. He's on board, and he values it. And again, that's directly from him.

We have a phrase in Chinese: 斷章取義, meaning "breaking off a small part of an article and deriving the meaning from that single part" That's what so many of you, in particular, the people who come to my inbox with the sentiments of the above-mentioned statement are doing. Please, use critical thinking and look at the whole picture. Stop making judgments from the surface of one source.

Tagging my friends @alittlefrenchtree and @myteavsricochet because it looks like they've been getting the same things I got