#bear with me. I *THINK* these are from Legacy
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i think a particularly fascinating wrinkle to post amnesia doctor and civilight eterna theresa's dynamic is that for all intents and purposes, the original doctor did die.
because who else is truly left to continue the legacy of their original civilization? doctor explicitly says kal'tsit doesn't even have the full context on the creation of originum, and even if she did kal'tsit has already long chosen terra over their original civilization. pre amnesia doctor was complicit in theresas murder specifically because they were the last one left, they were burdened by the guilt of duty in ensuring that the thousands of years and billions of lives worth of effort didn't go up in smoke. And yet it did. It will.
it was theresa's revenge, after all. her little terrible trick, a final small revenge against the person who wished it didn't have to end this way. the doctor took her life, so she took theirs. 'fate' should not exist, after all. it was her fate to bear the suffering of the sarkaz, and it was the doctors fate to bear the mission of their original civilization. So, she freed them, and destroyed their fate.
Just in the same way the doctor once again freed theresa from her 'fate', able to finally pass on with the countless sarkaz before her, no longer trapped by originum. post amnesia doctor doesnt really know theresa except for the first and last conversation they had in the assimilated originum universe, but in their encounter it's incredibly clear that theresa, even though she so clearly missed them, also knows that post amnesia doctor... isnt the same person.
The original doctor already said goodbye. They faced theresa in that room where she was assassinated, filled with something far too heavy to be called guilt, and stood before her waiting to die. And even though theresa didn't physically kill them, she fractured their mind and took their memories, she took away the burden of their fate as the last survivor of their kind. She banished the evil spirit haunted by the eons of experience and sacrifice and left behind only a purified soul, nothing but a trustworthy fool who fights for the people they love.
memories can be what endures long after a person is gone, but it is the experiences themselves which shape the individual. doctor has no memories, and civilight eterna theresa only inherited all of hers. neither of them had the experiences which shaped their past selves, neither of them are really the same person as those whom everyone around them looked towards, because they can only really grow as people from there.
Their original selves died a long time ago, holding each others hands in that faraway field, and all that's left are the shadows of themselves who can grow into something new. babel's voyage had long ended, but rhodes island will continue. The Evil Spirit of Babel and The King of Sarkaz are long gone, but the Doctor and Civilight Eterna are still here.
the me who is not me and the you who is not you... it didn't work out for our original selves, but even if we are not those people, we are products of their love. it is not by 'fate' that we are here, it is love.
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@ everyone saying Persuasion on my Austen poll post you’re so valid for that
#also we gotta resurrect our love of P&P from its (often incorrect) cultural legacy#for which Joe Wright bears a lot of blame tbh#it’s why I love teaching it I think. just that I can introduce it to kids who don’t know it#though tbh it’s already in my time teaching it gathered a reputation in the student body#where whispers of it circulate around beforehand#but that often works against me so I try to keep a lid on it lol
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Icon Dump - Sniper: Legacy
Hi guys, as promised, please find under the cut about 90 to 100 icons of Chad Michael Collins from Sniper: Ghost Shooter. All icons are simple plain 100x100 icons with no frills.
I’m loving all the CMC love and Alex Keller / Echo 3-1 love in the RP community, so if anyone needs icons, feel free to use them, just maybe throw me a like or a mention if anyone asks where you got them is all.
Also, there could be a slight chance that I’ve mixed up a few icons into wrong dumps. I mixed al my CMC icons into one folder for my RPing needs ... so I might get some wrong when separating them by movie.
#Okay guys#bear with me. I *THINK* these are from Legacy#but I made these yonks ago and mixed them with all the other movies ... except I didn't label which movies they were from#so if I'm wrong#just DM me and I'll relabel them XD#brandon beckett#chad michael collins#alex keller
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this is something i’ve been cooking on for a long time and i’m gonna try to articulate it now—please bear with me 🙏
a lot a lot of the criticism of DA:I i’ve seen from series fans has been made on the micro scale of the dialogue wheel, what dialogue choices are/aren’t available to the inquisitor in specific interactions. there are often chances to be callous, snide, arrogant, and authoritarian; rarely is there an opportunity to espouse what liberal & leftist players consider the “right” views on mages, elves, class, the chantry, etc. and when those opportunities seem to appear on the wheel, the inquisitor’s actual speech tends to hedge more than expected. the game doesn’t “let” you play an outspoken leftie.
i think critiques on this level are missing that structurally, on the macro scale, DA:I isn’t a game that’s capable of being leftist or having an outspoken leftie protagonist. it’s a story about someone whose previous identity is subsumed into the role of inquisitor for an order-restoring religious paramilitary that was created to fix the “problem” of the mage rebellion built up to in DA:O and DA2.
and fundamentally, just as DA:O asks you to play a warden who would end the blight and DA2 asks you to play a hawke who would become champion of kirkwall, DA:I asks you to play someone who would play the part of order-restoring inquisitor and false herald of andraste, even if it pains them, even if they protest strenuously at first, even if it takes the annihilation of who they used to be.
the premise, the inquisitor’s characterization, the gradually exposed legacy of the original inquisition (Jaws of Hakkon), the narrative thread of will/won’t the Inquisition lay down their swords (Trespasser), Morrigan’s outburst about the diminishing of magic in Thedas (What Pride Had Wrought), the power mechanic, the simple fact that maps become emptier, quieter, and less magical as you progress in the game, the clearing of the war table, the impossibility of leaving orlais without an emperor or the chantry without a divine—all of this, all of this! positions peace, order, mundanity, chantry hegemony, and the rule of law and law enforcement as the desirable, inevitable, only possible outcome of playing.
whether you choose the most or least progressive Divine, the most or least destabilizing and compassionate story choices, that remains the fundamental logic of DA:I. it’s the logic of the game’s most liberal companions/advisors (sera, dorian, & leliana). it’s a constraint on what changes can be made to the worldstate. and painting over that with more contrary and political dialogue options wouldn’t do anything. and this is not me saying “throw the whole game out because it was made by canadian libs”—i think DA:I is fun, vexing, moving, and really really interesting! but you kind of have to meet it where it’s at. and it’s a tragedy for the inquisitor. and it was made by canadian libs.
does that make sense??
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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning
I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.
Let's take a look:
Gem Glow
"Awesome! What are these things?"
Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.
Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:
The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.
The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-
Laser Light Canon
"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."
Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.
At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.
And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...
"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"
And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.
"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"
Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.
I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.
Cheeseburger Backpack
So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)
Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."
"Yeah... they can't all be winners."
This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-
Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.
Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.
Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.
Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:
This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.
Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.
Together Breakfast
"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."
Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.
Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.
I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.
The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.
If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?
These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'
"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"
And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.
"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"
Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.
__
So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.
One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.
Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.
Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.
Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.
In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'
Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.
When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.
In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.
But they don't care.
Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.
With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.
And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...
No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.
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Maya Fey is such a fucking genius concept for a character it makes me insane. at 17 years old she's the sole heir to a prestigious and powerful family of spirit mediums. her parents are gone and her sister is dead and the burden of the fey legacy is hers alone to bear. And so it is her destiny to spend her life entire training rigorously to detach herself from the world in order to hone her powers and reclaim the pride and standing of the Fey clan. and what does she do about it? she becomes the most unapologetically earthly, hedonistic, materialistic creature alive. A girl who is always chasing pleasure, be that in money, in food, in children's tv shows. A girl who loves loudly, who wants loudly, who lives loudly. A girl who in all her strength and kindness is not afraid to be selfish and to take what she wants. And yet underneath all that is something small and sad and scared. She's lonely, and afraid of being left behind. she struggles with self-esteem. she's passively suicidal. and eventually, under enough pressure, she DOES start to crack under the weight of it all because at the end of the day despite everything she is still a teenage girl. I genuinely cannot imagine thinking that Maya Fey is badly written. I think she's one of the most brilliant video game characters of all time.
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Sentinel's Conjunx HCs
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Sorry I love this sick sick man </3
For anyone who doesn't know, Conjunx Endura means spouse
Warnings: Mentions of R*pe, bad language, Slight Spoilers, Mean Sentinel
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You could have gotten paired up with this mech in two ways. Either he threatened to kill your family, or you willingly wanted to be with him (if you're continuing from the meeting headcanons).
He announced this to all of Iacon and every bot seemed to welcome you with open arms! Sure, some bots weren't happy to hear that their crush got mated to some random bot. Before this he made you polish up and look all dolly and stuff.
I feel like he might act like a good mate for the first couple of weeks, maybe months. Yeah, he has to go to the surface for a bit, but he'll probably call you or something during his "mission to find the matric." You don't know that he's actually meeting with the Quintessons.
He'll hand feed you, bathe you, make sure you have all the latest upgrades, a good paint job, hold you, kiss you, all that nasty lovey-dovey stuff.
That's only during the good times, after maybe two or three months that's when it starts to go downhill. I see him starting to ignore you, dismiss you, take his anger out on you, etc. He doesn't let you leave his golden tower unless accompanied by one of his trusted guards.
I feel like at first he'd be hesitant to let you work. He wants you to stay pretty and polished because he needs to keep up a reputation that he has a pretty Junxie. After some thought, he would allow you to work because he feels that if the people see that his Junxie works, so will they!
On the topic of sparklings, this guy would HATE having a kid. What do you mean he has to give his attention, time, and money to this dumb brat? What do you mean he can't recharge cause this stupid sparkling is too busy bawling its optics out?
!!!This is the disturbing part!!!
When he gives it some thought, he believes he should let his legacy carry on. Now what about you? He doesn't give a fuck about what you think. He expects you to just bend over and do as he says. He may even force you to do it against your will. It's one of the things he expects from his mate, to bear his children.
Yikes. Sorry.
Now if you do end up bearing his children, expect you to take care of the thing 80% of the time. The other 20% is one of his NPC guards or maids. Arachnid is damn well not taking care of that thing. If you're with the sparkling and he wants to be with you, he probably would shoo the thing away and make you wash your servos.
If you choose not to, he would get a little upset about it and keep trying.
If you're right in the mind (and not like me) you'll probably want like a breakup or something. He'll look at you and be like, "Yeah no."
And you'll be like, "Why?"
He'll look at you again and show his sweet and caring side and be like, "I just love you too much, how could I let the love of my life leave me?" (yeah we know this is bullshit)
An argument may arise and he'll bring that nasty side out we all know and love.
"I said no. End of discussion."
You'll have no choice but to just shut up and not bring it up again. Plus you have a kid, so it may not be the best decision anyway. Just know, after that conversation you're not allowed out anymore.
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Remember, these are my headcanons! You're free to make up your own or disagree with my headcanons!
Not proofread!
#transformers one#x reader#sentinel prime x reader#sentinal prime#transfomers#sentinel prime tfo#transformers fanfiction#transformers x reader#transformers#tf one#tf#tf sentinel prime#sentinel prime#tfone sentinel#airachnid#tf one spoilers
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Journey Begins — Chapter One
Dragon Twins Series
Aegon Targaryen x Dayne!fem!reader x Aerion Targaryen
[synopsis: You finally arrived at the capital, the land of in which aegon the conqueror came through. You are from the illustrious House Dayne from Dorne. You catch the eyes of the targaryen twin princes, aegon and aerion. You are betrothed to the heir apparent, Aegon Targaryen. Your new spouse is not very keen towards you, only his brother, Aerion shows slight interest.
[warnings: none
[work count: 3.3k
[a/n: i haven’t written in so long so bare with me. it’s proofread but i couldve missed something.
[note | it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!
| next chapter | masterlist |
The sun was setting as you made your way to King’s Landing. The banners of House Dayne which beared the white sword and falling star, fluttered against the warm breeze. You sat there, with your head held high as your eyes peaked through the small windows of the carriage. The only think you saw was the streets of the capital buzzing with people at the market and kids playing. The Red Keep loomed ahead, its imposing silhouette casting long shadows over the ancient city. As they approached, you could feel the weight of your family’s expectations that are now resting on your shoulders.
House Dayne, renowned for its ancient history and the legendary sword of Dawn, had always maintained an influential presence in the realm. Therefore your arrival in kings landing was not just a matter of formality; it was a declaration of the dayne influence and a future entailment of your role at the kings court. As the procession entered the castle gates, You were greeted by the sight of the Targaryen standard flying high above the ramparts. The dragon sigil seemed to shimmer in the fading light, a reminder of the power and legacy of the house you would soon be entangled with. You dismounted gracefully, your hair cascading over your shoulders, and adjusted your violet cloak, a gift from your family marking your status as a noble of Dorne.
Inside the red keep, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Nobles and the servants whispered amongst themselves as their eyes followed your presence. You were escorted to the grand hall where there was a feast being prepared in your honor. The hall was a marvel of architecture, with high ceilings adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the history of House Targaryen. The long tables were laden with an array of dishes, from roasted meats to exotic fruits, and the air was thick with the mingling scents of rich spices and sweet wines.
At the head of the hall, seated upon the dais, were the twin princes of the realm: Aegon and Aerion Targaryen. Aegon, the elder by mere minutes and the heir apparent, had an air of composed authority. His silver-gold hair was neatly trimmed, and his piercing violet eyes exuded a sense of calm determination. By contrast, Aerion's dark auburn hair fell in wild waves around his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled with mischief and restless energy. They were a striking pair, embodying the duality of fire and ice that defined their lineage.
You approached the dais with measured steps, your heart beating a little faster with each step. You bowed gracefully, acknowledging the princes with the respect due their station. "Your Highnesses," you greeted them, your voice steady and clear.
"Lady ___ Dayne," Aegon replied, his voice smooth and commanding. "Welcome to King’s Landing. Your presence here honors us."
Aerion leaned forward, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Indeed, it is not often we are graced with such beauty and distinction from the South. I trust your journey was pleasant?"
Your eyes met Aerion's gaze, twinkling with amusement. "It was long but not without its charms, your grace. The roads of Westeros are always full of surprises."
Aegon’s expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We are pleased you have arrived safely. There is much to discuss in the days to come, matters of great importance to both our houses."
As the day continued, the atmosphere in the Red Keep grew increasingly tense. You found yourself caught in the middle of a growing rift between Aegon and Aerion.
Aegon's cold demeanor persisted, though he made more of an effort to be present. You appreciated the attempts, but the connection you guys longed for remained elusive. Aerion, on the other hand, continued to be a source of comfort and companionship, his presence a balm to your weary soul.
࣪⠀⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫
The next evening, a ceremony was held to formally announce your betrothal to Aegon. The Great Hall was filled with nobles, lords, and ladies, all dressed in their finest attire. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the sound of music, creating an atmosphere of celebration that belied the undercurrents of tension.
You stood beside Aegon, your hand resting on his arm as they greeted the guests. Aerion was nearby, his eyes never straying far from his brother and the person who would soon be his sister-in-law. As the ceremony began, You felt a growing sense of unease, a feeling that intensified with each passing moment.
The High Septon performed the ritual, binding their hands with a length of silk and speaking the ancient words that would unite them in the eyes of the Seven. You glanced at Aegon, hoping to find some hint of warmth or affection, but his expression remained stoic, his eyes fixed on the Septon.
As the ceremony concluded, the guests applauded, you and Aegon were led to the high table for the ceremonial feast. The hall was filled with laughter and conversation, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being on display, a pawn in a game of power.
Aerion joined you guys at the high table, his presence a welcome distraction from the tension that lingered between you and Aegon. As the feast progressed, you found yourself drawn into conversation with Aerion, his wit and charm a stark contrast to Aegon's brooding silence.
"Aegon, you must try the Dornish red," Aerion said, pouring a goblet of wine and passing it to his brother. "It's truly exceptional."
Aegon accepted the goblet with a curt nod, his eyes flicking briefly to you before returning to his food. "Thank you, Aerion," he said, his tone neutral.
You sighed inwardly, turning your attention back to Aerion. "Have you ever visited Dorne, Aerion?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation to safer ground.
Aerion's eyes lit up. "Once, a few years ago. The landscape is breathtaking, and the people are as warm as the sun. You must show me around someday."
"I would love that," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at their lips. "There are so many places I could show you."
Aegon looked up, his expression darkening. "Is this appropriate?" he asked, his voice cold. "Discussing travel plans when we are in the middle of our betrothal feast?"
Your smile faltered, a flush of embarrassment coloring their cheeks. "I was just trying to make conversation," you said quietly.
Aerion's gaze hardened. "Aegon, there's no harm in a little light conversation. Surely you can see that."
Aegon's eyes flashed with anger. "I am your brother, Aerion, she is my betrothed. I expect you to respect that."
You felt a surge of frustration. "Aegon, this is our celebration. Can't we enjoy it without arguing, please?"
Aegon set his goblet down with a thud, his eyes boring into you. "I am trying to enjoy it, but it is difficult when you spend more time talking to my brother than to me."
You met his gaze evenly, you’re voice was steady. "I am trying to bridge the gap between us, Aegon. But respect goes both ways. You cannot demand it if you do not give it."
The hall fell silent, the guests watching the exchange with wide eyes. Aerion placed a calming hand on your shoulder. "Let's not ruin this evening," he said softly. "We are family, and we should act like it."
Aegon's expression softened slightly, though the tension in his eyes remained. "Very well," he said, his tone grudging. "Let us enjoy the feast."
The rest of the evening passed in a strained silence, the earlier warmth and camaraderie replaced by a palpable unease. You did your best to engage with the guests, but their thoughts kept returning to the confrontation with Aegon and the growing tension between him and Aerion.
As the feast drew to a close, you excused yourself and retired to your chambers, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. You changed into your nightclothes and climbed into bed, your mind was racing with the events of the evening.
࣪⠀⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫
The next morning, you were awakened by a gentle knock on the door. The handmaidens entered, bringing fresh clothes and preparing a bath. As you got dressed, your thoughts turned to the day ahead and the many challenges that awaited you. Hoping that Aegon would soon find you more interesting and give you the attention as your husband.
After getting ready, you made your way to the dining hall, hoping for a quiet meal and a chance to unwind. To your surprise, Aerion was already there, seated at a small table near the window. He looked up as you entered, a welcoming smile on his face.
"Good morning, ___," he greeted, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. "Join me?"
You returned the smile and took a seat. "Good morning, your grace. I would love to."
You guys ordered a simple meal, the kind that reminded you of home, and settled into an easy conversation. The food was delicious, and the company even more so. Aerion's presence was a balm to your weary soul, and you found yourself laughing and talking late into the morning.
As the conversation flowed, you both continued to talked about your hopes and dreams, fears and uncertainties. Surprisingly, you found yourself opening up to him in a way you had never been able to with Aegon, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
"I never expected to find a friend here," you admitted with a soft voice. "But you have been a true friend to me, Aerion. Thank you."
Aerion smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You are welcome, ___. I am glad to have found a friend in you as well."
Their laughter and easy banter were interrupted by the arrival of Aegon. His expression was stern, and his eyes flashed with irritation as he took in the scene before him. "What is going on here?" he demanded, his voice cold.
You and Aerion looked up, the warmth of your conversation dissipating in an instant. Aerion remained seated, his expression calm but his eyes defiant. "We were just having breakfast, brother."
Aegon's gaze shifted to you, a frown marring his handsome features. "This again…why are you speaking with him?"
Your met his gaze evenly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Aerion was kind enough to join me for breakfast. We were just talking."
Aegon's frown deepened. "Just talking? You are my wife. You should be spending time with me, not him."
Aerion stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Aegon, if you were around more often, perhaps ___ wouldn't feel the need to seek company elsewhere."
Aegon's face flushed with anger. "Stay out of this, Aerion. This is between me and my wife."
You stood as well, your voice firm. "Aegon, he has been nothing but kind to me. Ever since the ceremony, you have ignored me and treated me with indifference. I am trying to make the best of this situation, but you make it incredibly difficult."
Aegon's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and something else—guilt, perhaps. "I am your husband, and you will respect that."
You felt a surge of frustration. "I am trying to respect our union, but respect goes both ways. You cannot demand it if you do not give it."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Aerion watched the exchange with a thoughtful expression, his earlier amusement replaced by concern.
Finally, Aegon sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I...I will try to do better," he said, though his tone lacked conviction. He turned and left the hall, leaving you and Aerion standing in the aftermath of the confrontation.
Aerion placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You did well. Aegon can be difficult, but he will come around."
“Though he does get drunk often as you’ve noticed these past few days, so be weary about that” he continued.
You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—relief, frustration, and a lingering sense of uncertainty. "Thank you, your grace. I appreciate your support."
He smiled gently. "Anytime,” as he looked into your eyes “And call me by my name from now on. We are family now, after all." The young man left the dining hall, letting you all by your self and the servants worked the room.
࣪⠀⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫
As the days passed, you tried to settle into your new life in the Red Keep. You attended council meetings, participated in court functions, and did your best to navigate the complex web of alliances and rivalries that defined the royal court.
Aegon remained distant, though he made an effort to be more present. He would sit with you during meals, engage in polite conversation, and accompany you to various events. However, the warmth and connection you had hoped for were still elusive. Aerion, on the other hand, continued to be a constant source of support and companionship.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day of court politics, you found yourself in the library, seeking solace among the dusty tomes and ancient scrolls. Aerion joined you, as he often did, settling into a quiet corner, a bottle of wine and two goblets between you.
"I heard you had a difficult day," Aerion said, pouring them each a generous measure of wine.
You sighed, taking the offered goblet. "It seems there is no end to the intrigue and scheming at court. I feel like I am constantly walking a tightrope."
Aerion raised his goblet in a toast. "To surviving another day in the snake pit."
Clinking your goblets together and drinking the wine, you felt a sense of ease with him. Talking late into the night, your conversations ranging from the mundane life to beyond. Aerion's wit and insight were a constant source of comfort, and you felt a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in your new life.
As the candles burned low, you leaned back in their chair, a contented smile on their lips. "Thank you, Aerion. I don't know what I would do without you."
He smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You are stronger than you realize, ___. You will find your way."
You both parted ways reluctantly, each returning to your respective chambers. As always Aegon is nowhere to be found. He probably ran off somewhere in the capital to get drunk with his friends. If he meant what he said that morning when you met with aerion at the dining hall, he would be spending more time with you. Especially when it comes to sharing your chambers. From what aerion told you about aegon, he would go spend time with whores and get wasted. Though he is the heir apparent, he sure doesn’t act like it sometimes.
As you slipped into bed, the memory of Aerion's reassuring words lingering in your mind. Closing your eyes, you felt a sense of peace washing over them as you drifted off to sleep. At the back of your mind, thinking that the same things would happen continuously, everyday. Aegon ignoring you every time he sees you alone, yet causing an argument when you are with his twin.
࣪⠀⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫
The next morning, Aegon woke you with a sharp knock on the door. The sound echoed through the room, pulling you from a fitful sleep. You blinked against the early morning light, your mind still foggy from the remnants of your dreams.
"Wake up," Aegon called through the door, his voice stern. "We have a council meeting."
You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you sat up. "I'm coming," you replied, trying to shake off the lingering weariness. The servants got you dressed quickly, donning the elegant attire befitting your noble status, and made your way to the council chamber.
The atmosphere in the room was tense when you entered, with Aegon by your side. The small council members were already seated, their expressions ranging from curious to disapproving. You recognized some of them: Lord Hand Otto Hightower, the Master of Coin, and the Master of Ships. Each of their gazes bore into you, a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.
Aegon led you to a seat near the head of the table, introducing you to the council with a formal tone. "This is Lady ___, my betrothed. She will be joining us from now on."
There were murmurs of acknowledgment, but you could feel the underlying tension. You glanced around the table, noticing the reluctant expressions and the way some of the members exchanged knowing glances. It was clear that the rumors about you and Aerion had reached their ears. As if on cue, Aerion entered the chamber, his presence commanding immediate attention. He took his seat with a nod to you and aegon, his expression composed.
The meeting began with the usual discussions of state affairs, taxes, and military matters. You listened attentively, trying to absorb the complex web of politics and alliances. You felt the weight of scrutiny on you, the council members' eyes frequently drifting your way.
After some time, Aegon addressed you directly. "Lady ___, what are your thoughts on the current state of the northern defenses?"
The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, searching for the right words. "I believe that the northern defenses are crucial for the security of the realm," you began, choosing your words carefully. "We must ensure they are well-manned and adequately supplied to withstand any potential threats."
Aegon raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "And how do you propose we achieve that?"
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the council's eyes on you. "By allocating more resources to the northern regions, increasing recruitment efforts, and ensuring that the commanders are experienced and well-equipped."
Aegon smirked, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Is that so? And where do you suggest we find these resources? Shall we simply conjure them out of thin air?"
A few of the council members chuckled, and you could feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You clenched your fists against your dress, struggling to maintain your composure. "No, of course not," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "We can reallocate funds from less critical areas, and seek additional support from our allies."
Aegon leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. "Reallocate funds? Seek additional support? It seems you have all the answers, Lady ___. Perhaps you should be sitting in my seat."
The laughter around the table grew louder, and you felt a surge of anger and humiliation. You reached for your goblet, your hand trembling with rage, as you hurled it across the table. The goblet flew past Aegon's head, narrowly missing him, and crashed against the wall, spilling wine everywhere.
The room fell into stunned silence, the council members staring at you in shock. Aegon's expression darkened with fury, but before he could speak, you stood up, your eyes blazing with defiance.
"I will not be humiliated like this," you said, your voice shaking with emotion. "I am trying to do my best, but you make it impossible."
With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the room, leaving a trail of shocked silence in your wake. As you walked down the corridors of the Red Keep, tears of frustration and anger welled up in your eyes. You had tried so hard to bridge the gap between yourself and Aegon, but it seemed that every step you took only widened the chasm.
You retreated to your chambers, slamming the door behind her. You sank onto your soft bed, burying your face in your hands. The weight of your new life, the constant scrutiny, and the growing tension with Aegon were all becoming too much to bear.
A soft knock on the door interrupted your solemn thoughts. You wiped your tears stained eyes and took a deep breath before opening the door. To your surprise, it was Aerion.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You nodded, though your voice betrayed you. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed."
Aerion stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I saw what happened. Aegon can be cruel, but you did well to stand up to him."
You looked up at him, grateful for his support. "Thank you, Aerion. I don't know how much more of this I can take."
Aerion sat beside you, his presence comforting. "Aegon will come around, eventually. But in the meantime, you have me."
You managed a small smile, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you."
Aerion's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "We'll get through this together."
| next chapter | masterlist |
© misswynters ‘24 - don’t modify or steal my writings
taglist: @sab-falco @spn-obession @tomgcsmrs @sturnioloarchive @arquiiva @malfoycassimalfoy @klutzylaena
#house targaryen#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon smut#hotd aegon#aegon ii fanfic#aerion targaryen#hotd imagine#jacaerys velaryon#alicent hightower#rhaenyra targaryen#halaena targaryen#hotd fanfic#hotd daeron#hotd x reader#hotd smut
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The last time.
—-Minors DNI—-
Yandere!Satoru Gojo
Tags: Breed kink. Breeding. Kidnapping. Imprisonment. Unprotected sex. Plotting murder. Cream pie.
"Fuck me like it's the last time." That's what you say to Satoru's face after you have everything ready to make your move and run from him.
It's certain that if you stay here, Satoru will trap you in other ways, and you aren't about to let that happen. It's taken meticulous planning to get to this point, earning his trust finally and getting your leash extended enough for wiggle room.
Satoru takes your statement as a challenge, but constantly reinforces the face that you aren't leaving and that this is all role play. He doesn't deny that it is turning him on, going further in gorging himself on his favourite kink.
He needs to breed you.
You aren't sure where it's come from, you don't want to know either. You've been lucky so far, despite his best efforts and bold disappointment when nothing came of it.
Relief.
The last time doing this and the last time seeing his smug face before you disappear and vanish into the night. Satoru won't ever find you, you've made sure of it.
Satoru fucks you. His thrusts are hard and unforgiving, repeating over and over how you'll stay with him, bear his children and somehow be alright with raising them for his legacy he's been pressured to fulfil.
Not a fucking chance.
You let him, taking the chance to think of all the good times you'll have after you leave, but the danger you'll be in to ensure he never finds you.
Satoru Gojo isn't as trusting as he might appear. Time and exhausting effort to throw off this sniffer dogs nose. He never seems wise to it the entire time, how you'll leave him in his bed and fight the urge to slit his throat in his sleep.
After he comes inside you for the very last time, he takes a hold of your wrist and drags you out of the bedroom, throwing you back into that awful closet he had you in when you arrived here.
"C'mon, you really think I don't know? I thought you were intelligent." Is all he says before slamming the door shut with his grin the last thing you see into the darkness.
With his come still leaking between your thighs.
Yandere!Suguru Geto
Tags: Murder. Indoctrination. Choking.
"Fuck me like it's the last time." Suguru hears you loud and clear.
He understands what you are saying, and takes it as literally as possible.
Originally, you hated the idea of being with him after he snatched you up, but he convinced you that his logic was the way forward. that he was the way forward. And eventually, you started to believe it yourself.
Now, you applaud his reasonings, even go as far as to thank him for doing what he does. You aren't sure when it was, but there is a moment in the timeline from when you first met to now, that urges your brain to enjoy it whenever he takes a life.
Almost to the point that it impresses you how he does it with such ease. Though it's most probably due to the fact that it fascinates you. You battled with the guilt for the longest time, shaming yourself against your better judgement until you became numb to it.
Numb. Like now. The last time. Suguru decides the best way to fulfil this request its to lace his slender fingers at your throat, whispering filthy things into your ear to allow the dark spots at your eyes to collect around the outside.
He presses just right, light pressure, enough to hear your gasps of pleasure as you watch all the red on his face, on his open yukata to reveal his bear chest. Yes, he had killed again, but that doesn't deter you to let the bubbling itch in your abdomen grow and grow until you can't take it anymore.
The agonising part is that he fucks you slowly, dreadfully teasing until you come around his cock and he tells you what a good girl you are.
This path isn't one you ever saw yourself walking, but you guess you're in too deep now to ever think about leaving him.
Yandere!Kento Nanami
Tags: Psychological abuse. Spanking. Humiliation.
"Fuck me like it's the last time." It's supposed to be a comment to throw him off, but to be honest, you aren't sure why you said it.
Kento in hyper critical of you all the time. There's a spec of dirt on your face, your hair is out of place, your shirt is crooked, you haven't taken care of your nails. He's always picking up on something wrong.
You fought it originally, but when you realised that you weren't getting anywhere, you stopped. Now, you let him have his say, correct it and go about your day like he doesn't exist.
It's always manners with him. Watch your posture, manage your words and stop using curse words like they command the room. Verbally, you reel it in, though internally, you scream and say every word under the sun. You constantly think of all the ways you want to hurt him, to kill him.
There are many ways to kill a man.
At first, when you asked this of Kento, you assumed he would pick up on the curse word and reprimand you. But he doesn't. He never says a word, he only leads you up to the bedroom and sits down on the bed.
He asks you to bend over, to lay across his lap with your clothed ass pointing up. It makes you feel like a petulant child, you hate it. He's done this before, because he has picked up on how you said the word 'fuck'.
Kento pulls your leggings and panties over your ass and leaves it there, bulging at the plush of your thighs. He tells you that he won't sleep with you, not right now. Which meant that he's going to make an example of you.
At least if he is fucking you, the crack of his hand making the connection with your bare skin, isn't nearly as embarrassing. But alas, he doesn't, he strikes your ass in the weighted silence, heavy with burden and humiliation.
At least if he fucks you and finishes all over your stomach, there's a likely chance he'll fall asleep. Then you can have a moments peace to yourself. Trying to escape him is impossible now, you can't count the the amount of times you have tried on ten fingers anymore.
Ten times he spanks you, cupped hand with the extra sting he likes, his free hand laying flat on the small of your back like it's supposed to soother you, but it's not.
It's to keep you there so he has control.
Kento always needs to have control.
Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna
Tags: Mark making. Physical abuse. Rough sex. Dubious consent. Shaming.
"Fuck me like it's the last time."
Why the fuck did you just say that? You think it was a way to stop him glaring at you the way he just did because you were sure he was going to make your day miserable.
Sukuna actually laughs at this, cackles even. He says that it's not up for debate, there is no chance he would ever let you get far enough to make this the last time. Because he will always find you.
You have not ever attempted to escape him, it's like he can read your mind and even the slightest whiff of a plan to leave makes him give you the look as though he would burn you alive right where you stand.
He thinks you're weak, in comparison to him, you are. But your spirit is much stronger than he assumes, even if he can see straight through you.
There's no point in trying to fight him, no chance to slip from his grasp as his nails dig in with those little present shapes over your skin. Little deeper marks when his nails are especially sharp. You're sure he does this purpose, just to watch your eyes wince no matter how much you try to hide it.
"It it's to be the last time, let's make the most of it." He says, taking you in his bed like an animal howling in the night.
Terrifying. Ghastly. A demon unlike anything you ever read in books. The cursed man believes in no boundaries, no safe words. Just pure raw sex, hormones to run rampant while he's balls deep inside you. The bare skin slaps and sucks each other in until you are screaming from under him.
He only laughs. This is exactly what he wants. What he craves.
Just what he expects from his little pathetic whore.
Yandere!Toji Fushiguro
Tags: Forced marriage? Restraints. Power imbalance. Marriage. Psychological tactics. Cunnilingus.
"Fuck me like it's the last time." You said it out of anger.
You want it to be the last time. Truly.
Most days you often ask yourself how in the hell Toji managed to persuade you to get married. The old ball and chain as they said back in the day.
You didn’t realise that it meant an actual restraint around your ankle. Not that Toji needs it to keep you right where you are, but you assume it’s for dramatic effect.
There isn’t a day that goes by now that you don’t hate his guts, often questioning yourself how you even said yes to him in the first place.
It’s odd, because you don’t even remember.
Today, Toji promised he would let you out again after much deliberation. Like a fucking dog more like. It angered you, the only reason you have been kept inside was because the cashier spoke words to you while Toji stood right there and watched. How were you supposed to pay if you did not talk?
Why did you say yes to marrying him again?
You don’t remember. You only remember how he uses his tongue over your body because he claims to own it. He tells you this every time, because the difference in power between you is so immense.
You can't leave even if you tried.
This whole thing is fucked, while you get fucked. Toji enjoys eating you, pulling every guttural moan from your lips so he can savour it because no one else has the privilege to hear it. But you know it’s because he’s insanely possessive over you. It’s unhealthy. This relationship is unhealthy, yet he’s convinced you to stay.
How?
After he makes you come a few times, you’re in a daze. Is that when he convinces you?
You’re married. He gets half of everything you own. Everything you worked hard for. What does he actually bring to the table besides some misinformed ownership over you?
At times it’s like he wants you to divorce him, but still keep you here. It’s obvious he will make things difficult for you.
He always makes things difficult for you.
Yandere!Choso
Tags: Obsessed. Mentions of making a family. Missionary sex. Attempted break up.
"Fuck me like it's the last time." You have had enough of Choso’s clingy nature, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You’re tired of it.
One last time, and then you will see whether or not you would leave. The connection is there, but his protective, over bearing nature is suffocating.
Choso looks at you like you have just broken up with him point blank. You haven’t. But you are unsure of how to proceed with this.
He tells you he’ll do anything to keep you happy. He will do anything. He’d steal for you, hurt for you, kill for you. Die for you.
It’s all very intense.
You can’t live this way, you know this when he holds you, pulls you close and presses precious little kisses all over your face, your neck. He holds your hands softly, lacing your fingers with his as he leads you over to the bed.
Choso makes love to you slowly, intimately, whispering all sorts of nonsensical drivel. He loves you. He adores you. He wants you to be in his life forever, live in a little bubble, start a family together.
He wants it all with you, he says as much as he’s inside you, rutting slowly, sensually enough it allows you to clear your mind.
This is not healthy.
But how can you deny him now after he’s saying all of this?
When he comes inside you, he draws back to look down at you, staring up at him.
“I love you. This isn’t the last time, is it?” He strokes your hair and presses his lips to your nose and he loves you, it’s true.
How can you deny this now?
This is not healthy.
#gojo x reader#yandere gojo#jjk smut#gojo satoru#geto suguru#Geto#yandere geto#x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento#yandere nanami#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#yandere sukuna#toji fushiguro#yandere toji#toji x reader#choso x reader#choso kamo#yandere choso#fem reader
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Sometimes I see reviews about D&W where people think Worst Wolverine's backstory is super lacking. That they expected something epic like how Mysterio tricked Logan to slaughter everyone in the Old Man comic run.
But that plot, at least to me, doesn't make The Worst Wolverine. It probably makes the Most Tortured Wolverine -- the story of a man slaughtering his own family with his bare hands because he was mind controlled. Which inevitably created a power vacuum so gigantic that the world basically collapsed as supervillains take over the world.
But the title of Worst Wolverine should belong to the Logan that completely abandons his most important moral value: to be the protector.
Sure, he tends to be nomadic and at times self-isolates, but at his core he truly knows what it means to be a pack animal: to be a part of a cohesive family unit, rely on others, be a guardian for the weak.
In a literal sense, a common backstory for him was that he just fucked off from human society after he mutated to live with a pack of wolves. He turned feral, but they also taught him about the importance of community.
Even if you aren't a fan of the wolf background (which I AM because I think it's funny and dramatic as hell), there's other stories where he got taken care of by the Blackfoot Tribe and Lord Ogun before somehow winding up in the Weapon-X Program. Then, the Hudson family rescued him and helped him gain his humanity back after the adamantium experiments. He joined Department H, and sometime after, he found his place with the X-Men.
My point being that past or present, Logan has always belonged to a family. He needs it -- his human AND animal side both need it. He's not meant to be a creature of solitude. When he is, it's a form of punishment that he inflicts upon himself because he doesn't feel worthy to be around the people he loves or he's worried about hurting them. Or it's something inflicted upon him -- aka he's been captured and is being experimented on.
So what does all this tell us about Logan's moral code? He cares deeply for others because it's in his nature to be a part of a pack and he will do anything to protect them.
He's very caring towards animals (ex. looking after wolves that took care of him, mercy killing a bear in The Wolverine, and saving the horses in Logan). He tried to save Silver Fox's life when Sabretooth attacked her. When his wife Itsu was murdered, he relied on the advice of Lord Ogun to get vengeance for her with the Muramasa Blade. He joined Department H and Alpha Flight because he owed the Hudsons so much after re-acclimating him to society. He stayed with the X-Men because Charles gave him a home, family, and purpose outside of being a weapon. He enabled him to be the good man that he is by not only using his powers for the good fight but also being a teacher for the students.
As a character, Logan was created to reflect the archetype of the cowboy/samurai with the morals of honor, integrity, and justice. He's also not afraid to be judge, jury, and executioner for the people he loves. He's a man of action.
So what is the antithetical? A man who dishonors himself by not taking his job seriously. A man of inaction who abandons those he loves. A man who doesn't seek justice but wallows in regret and guilt.
And what did the Worst Wolverine do?
He let his fondness for drinking harm his work. While he was drinking at a bar, a group of humans invaded the X-Mansion and killed a large part of the staff, students, and X-Men. He entered a berserker rage where he murdered the invaders AND innocent people. He tarnished the legacy of the X-Men.
The title of Worst Wolverine doesn't go to the man who got brainwashed and killed without knowing. The title goes to the Logan who killed indescriminantly and didn’t want to stop.
He chose to walk away when they called out for him. He went into a beast state that made the public completely turn against the X-Men in just one night. Instead of making up for his sins, he just went back to the bar -- the very thing that killed his family. He did everything he could to go against his morals of honor, integrity, and justice.
He was a man who failed his family.
THAT'S what makes him The Worst Wolverine.
#my post#wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#i went insane with this one#i just hate when people are like 'hur dur his backstory wasnt cool enough'#SHUT UP#HES NOT SUPPOSED TO BE COOL#HES SUPPOSED TO BE A PATHETIC COWARD!!!! THATS WHY EVERYONE HATES HIM!!!!!!!!!!!#HES THE VILLAIN OF HIS UNIVERSE YOU BUFFOONS!!!!!!#character essay
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Thinking about people not liking what happened at the end of dawntrail like… hmm.
Did you not remember the stuff with the Yok Huy. Nobody is gone if you remember them. The phrase that’s been with us for nearly the entire game, “For those we have lost….” Emet Selch entrusting us not only with the legacy of humanity in general but specifically with the memories of the Ancients and Elpis.
Just because people are gone doesn’t mean they aren’t still with us.
But the people of Neo-Alexandria are kept from that. They can’t remember anyone they’ve lost because their memories were stolen and locked away in an eternal purgatory, unable to move on or be reincarnated. The quest where you go to the graves in Heritage Found was a big moment where I was like. Huh. This fucking sucks actually.
The endless are just computer simulations, and they exist because Sphene can’t bear to let them go. Can’t even let her living citizens mourn or carry on legacies.
And that’s not even mentioning the fact that she needs the souls of innocent *living* people to power this all.
I think it’s a really good metaphor for the digital age, becoming disconnected from our irl communities, uploading your entire life on social media. Profiles of loved ones who have passed on. AI chat bots providing temporary comfort but no real human connection. All of that technology requiring enough energy to slowly but surely contribute to the destruction of our planet.
It all seems pretty clear to me as an allegory but like, I guess some people just didn’t make that connection? Or maybe they just don’t think about all the AI stuff in the same way I do.
#dawntrail#dawntrail spoilers#ffxiv#my post#obviously not saying irl communities are the only type of connection worth having#I’m not trying to throw the baby away with the bath water wrt internet relationships#or like. in this metaphor. all of neo alexandrian society#THEMES!#lol#reminds me of posts that have said like “wish they focused on one area per expansion’#Sharalyan + Garlemald was TOO MUCH!!#sorry no that’s really stupid#all the areas in an expansion relate to the central theme in pretty major ways#I’ll only address the ones I’ve seen people make complaints about ‘not being coherent’#stormblood: revolution endwalker: hope in the face of absolute despair dawntrail: family / culture / connection#wow stories have themes and aren’t just events happening in order. wild#N’ephele’s notes
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I swear I’m almost done being mentally ill about Elden Ring I promise but I never see anyone talk about Morgott’s heart wrenching death scene. It’s never overtly pointed out but please imagine the progression of events from his perspective. Lying on his back, staring up at the sky, defeated. He’s one of the ONLY bosses that leaves behind a corpse and it’s heart wrenching okay, it’s OBLITERATING. Because he’s lying there withered and broken, staring up at the golden boughs of the one thing in the world he loved, not the golden order, not the greater will, he loved the Erdtree and dedicated his ENTIRE life to it even though it never loved him back because not even a man as scorned as Morgott could live without love and the love was to keep his heart still beating in his chest when he felt most like a monster. He has spent his entire life keeping this crumbling kingdom together. For his mother, who hid him away so the world wouldn’t hurt him, for his father, the man who taught him how to bear the weight of a crown and stand taller than the ignoble origins you come from. And he was so alone. The only constant in his life being that golden tree that shone down into the sewers. He is the last of all kings. The horns about his brow weighed heavier than his crown.
And then the tree was burning. Lying broken on the ground, unable to truly die, his curse expelled from his body, he could only look up and watch the only thing he loved with all his heart burn down around him. The ashes falling like snow on his face. Can you imagine the heat? The resignation? The misery and the promise that if there’s ever a next time, he’ll do better, and if there isn’t then this shall be his final legacy and he’ll just have to accept that final truth before he dies. The self hatred washing over him and passing into quiet peace as he chooses to pass away together with it. Omens do not get reincarnated by the Erdtree. Loved and blessed by the crucible of life, they are not loved the same as all the rest of us. But that’s okay. For Morgott, that was okay. He would live nobly and die with honour in its service and that would be enough. He’d spend the last moments of his life bathed in the warm ashes of orange and grey, content that even if he never felt loved by anyone at all after being cursed and shunned all his life, he did his duty as best he could and finally repaid the debt he felt towards the tree that showed him the light for so many long, lonely years.
And then, then it makes me so fucking miserable because then a pair of gentle, scarred and terribly rough hands lift him up from the ground and cradle him with all the tenderness in the world. The roar of a lion salutes his passing, honouring him, mourning him. “It’s been a long time, Morgott.” No anger, no disappointment. Simply, sadness, that he could not see you sooner. Godfrey, his father, returned at last to hold him one final time as he passes away, the rune of death now unbound and finding its way to Morgott after all this time. His last memory would be of being held by his father, loved for all that he is in the ashes of all that he dedicated his life to. His body fades, his entire world upheaved one final time, and an easily missed detail in the cutscene is that Morgott’s body becomes a Grace that points towards you, the player, to guide his father to his next step along the path of Lordship. One final time, Godfrey is guided by the unyielding love he feels for one of his children. Fuck it makes me so miserable. How do write something so tragic and not spend more time with it? How do you leave that beauty hidden in the details like it’s not one of the greatest moments of the entire game? It’s so quiet it’s private, almost. Like we’re not supposed to see that side of either of them, being such an outsider. It’s sundering to think about. Annihilating. I love it with all my heart and I hope more people love Morgott too after reading this.
#my writing#elden ring#morgott the omen king#morgott the grace given#margit the fell omen#shadow of the erdtree#godfrey the first elden lord#I fucking love this game#prepare to cry#hoarah loux
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Our Love
(Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader)
A/N: Hey everyone~✨ I’m writing this request thingy after I um had kind of a bad day. Not to get too personal, um parents can suck. Like they can hurt your feelings and not care. So I wanted to write this because I kinda wish that I had parents like Sunny and Miggy tbh. Anyway enough with that~✨
A/N: TikTok spoiled some of the movie for me so I’m kinda mad but I got to think up some more Sunny lore for you guys. This is part 2 of Our Girl and forgive the ending because I ran out of ideas. If you like my work please check out my master list and if you wanna stay up to date with the series, then comment on this Taglist and you’ll be added. To see what’s coming up next then check out my upload schedule.✨
If you are someone who has struggled with Postpartum, Child loss, anxiety with pregnancy, or any trauma related to child birth and child bearing, feel free to skip this if you don’t think you can handle it. Your well being is more important, so go read some fluff, drink some water, and if you don’t have anyone giving you kisses then here: *platonic kisses*
Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female pronouns, Barely use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname, not their name)), angst, trauma, mentions of child loss, anxiety around pregnancy, and Google Translated Spanish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bouncing fear blooms as the repeating drumming of her pacing feet in the confined walls of the bathroom stall. The constant nagging of her god mother comes back to haunt her like the remains of her muffin tries to climb it’s way back up.
The three minute timer on her phone felt like an eternity as the white piece of plastic continues to load up the bullet that will end everything she’s built up for herself so far.
She was head of the undergraduate at her biology department at NYU and she had stupidly decided to go out to some party with her friends to celebrate the end of the school year. An embarrassing hook-up occurred with her having to sneak out without even getting a good look at the guy. Of course she assumed that her drunken self would have used protection, but unfortunately, alcohol doesn’t always encourage good decisions.
She thought that the sudden spouts of tossing her lunch up was simply due to nerves as she was applying for a work study program with Alchnemax, but the sudden repulsion to her god mother’s cooking is what really set the dread into motion. A dread she swallowed down with a big smile as she pretended her whole life wasn’t changing in an instant. She held onto the hope that maybe it was just nerves bothering her until today.
Her interview with Alchnemax went exceptionally well. The woman was aware that her chances of being accepted were low despite her high academic achievements due to A) she’s a scholarship student, B) she’s some poor kid from Brooklyn, and C) she was an orphan without any cushy family legacy behind her.
Two of the three department leaders of the Genetics department already decided her fate as they had those noses turned up at her, but one just looked at her with kindness. He gave her a chance. And if it wasn’t for that the others wouldn’t have heard her creditials and wouldn’t have looked at her completely impressed. The man who looked at her so proudly gave her a wink as a way of showing he was sure I was gonna get it. Not in the creepy sexually charged man way. But like how a father would their child.
Her first friend here. Dr..
The beeping from the phone alarm catches her attention as she turns to look at the white stick of destiny. Her whole life is forever changing today one way or another….
~~~~~~~~~
“I’m what?” She gasps as she looks up at the red and blue man in a lab coat in shock.
She had just awoken hours after she had experienced the most bizarre incident that landed her in the infirmary. She had met a girl from an alternate dimension where she and Miguel were normal people who had a family together, and their daughter was that universe’s Spider-Woman.
Their Daughter…their baby…
“You’re pregnant, Miss. (L/N).” Spider-Doc says cheerfully as he places a cold device on her stomach. A monitor appears from the small device with a familiar picture of a small little bean inside the black vast of her womb. A baby…
“It looks like you’re about 6 weeks along based on the size of the fetus and it’s a good thing we found out when we did. Mr. O’Hara would have had our throats if he….”
The doctor’s words fell on deaf ears as the woman’s eyes focused intently on the image in front of her. The sounds of their pounding heart beat challenges the drumming of her own as her fingers lightly trace the image. She was so small…so defenseless.
Just like he was…
“D-does Miguel know?”
~~~~~~~
Positive.
The test mocked her as she watched her Godmother hold onto the plastic piece with an unreadable expression. The twist of her dark mauve painted lips causes her glowy skin to crack under her dark eyes. A hand pushes back the freshly installed knotless braids as the clinking of the golden charms twisted her stomach more.
April was the one person the girl could always rely on the most in the world, having raised her since she was eight years old. She was the only real mother figure she’s ever known and always pushed her to her hardest. April always made sure that the two were always fed, clothed, and pampered, and the only thing she ever asked for was for her godchild to bring home all A’s and to have a smile.
April taught her to value education both in and out of school. She made sure she could solve any math problems as best as she could without a calculator and how to make sure to know which doors she can knock on if someone was following her at night. April made sure she knew her Spanish well so she can have bigger opportunities in the workforce and to know respect for the Parra’s down the hallway.
April had a baby the same time as her best friend Maria and promised each other to be each other’s godmothers so their daughters can always be best friends just like their moms.
But, Maria lost her life while April lost her baby.
“How far along are you?” The older woman asks with her dark warm eyes misting over as she looks at her god child.
“I don’t know, maybe a month and a half…” The own girl’s body shaking as sobs built up in her chest as she looks at her now smiling godmother.
“Do you want to keep it?…”
The question hung in the air as the women’s combined shaking forms as the woman honestly didn’t think about it before.
~~~~~~~~~
When the spider got released from the infirmary, she immediately turned off her gizmo as she turned invisible. She shakily avoided everyone she could so she could go to her room without seeing anyone.
She couldn’t bring herself to see anyone. Not with this. She knew if Miguel wasn’t on a mission right now then he would have already been at the infirmary waiting on her, but she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes. It wasn’t fair.
One of her hands rests on her stomach as she navigates the hallways before finally reaching her room. She waited until no one was paying attention to slip in and turn back to normal with a painful sigh. She forgot how painful it was to do that without her suit helping her. Miguel specifically made it so her powers wouldn’t put as much strain on her heart than it already did.
Her back hits the door as she finally collapses with a shaker breath. The reality of the situation was finally kicking in as she placed both hands on her stomach. She was pregnant with Miguel’s child.
Something that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, she can argue that if the anomalous event hadn’t have occurred and destroyed her dimension , she would have never known about the Spider Verse or even met Miguel…
But she’s accepted that whatever relationship they were in wasn’t going to be able to manifest more than what it was. Two broken people who fell in love and were trying to make the best of their circumstances.
Due to her being from an alternate dimension, there isn’t a canon event that could possibly let her be able to live with Miguel and start a family…it would just destroy every thing…
‘Would Miguel even want this baby?…’ She though as she runs one of her shaking hands over her cheek as anxious tears rolled down her face. ‘What if she has powers like us? What if they aren’t healthy? Would he want to get rid of it because she’s an anomaly….’
She didn’t have the same support system as she did when she had her son, Ben. She didn’t have April who would sooth her anxieties of motherhood and made sure that Ben had diapers at home. She didn’t have the Parra’s who would bring her supper some evenings in exchange for letting the infertile Valeria babysit her boy when her and April were busy. She didn’t have the corner stores where they always hid back some cans of formula for her and gave her son lollipops.
Her son…her baby boy that she failed…
The image of his lifeless little body appears in her vision as she remembers the way his body was limp in her hold. The way his little face was so frozen in fear when he used to always have the biggest smile on his face…
“What if I fail this one too?”
Her thoughts cause sobs to rip from her body as she curls her knees up to her chest as she thought about all of the possibilities that this baby would ruin it…
Then Maria’s face came to mind. The young spider girl that was only a few years younger than she was when she found out she was gonna have Ben.
With the girl’s face burning in her mind, the woman stands up and immediately storms out of her room. Her blurry eyes burned as she made her way to the one place that she knew would have answers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ba dump ba dump
The pounding sound fills the room as the pair of women stared in awe at the monitor. A little squirming being about the size of her hands shined against the black background of the screen as the OB-GYN wiggles around the cold wand over her stomach.
“Oh my…” A teary smile appears on the older woman’s face as April clenches onto her astonished Goddaughter’s hand. The 14 week old fetus was facing the camera as his little legs wiggled around enough to barely turn him over.
His mother stares at him with such wonder as to how she could have made that.
She knew the whole biological process of how it’s down and what to expect at each step, but just seeing him there, barely even big enough to see him, was her baby.
“There he is. A perfectly healthy baby boy.” The OB smiles at the mother and gently traces his little face on the monitor. “Do you have any ideas for names yet?”
April smiles at the girl lost in wonder and decides to let her have the moment she remembers so well from her own pregnancy. April runs her thumb over her child’s knuckles as she answers.
“She wants to name the baby after her parents. They died in a car accident when she was young. If it was a girl, her name would be Maria and if it was a boy, his name would be…”
“Ben.” The mesmerized girl finishes her sentence as she looks back at the doctor with a bright teary smile. “His name is gonna be Ben.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey boss.” Lyla cautiously calls the man who was frantically trying to find his missing love.
After he returned from stopping a Prowler anomaly, Miguel immediately went to the infirmary to find that she had left hours ago and no one else has seen her since the young SpiderWoman was sent back home.
He thought she was fine when he last checked on her when they shared a happy tear feast over how wonderful their daughter was before she had fallen asleep from crying.
“Not now Lyla. I’m trying to find (Y/N).” He grumbles as his nerves twist his stomach around.
It wasn’t like her to go off the grid like this, not without at least telling Miguel that she wanted some quiet time. He clenched his fist as he feared that meeting Maria may have caused his Sunny to fall into a bad spell of depression since…
“She’s in the observation room looking at the Web.” Lyla answers like she was annoyed that Miguel was listening to her. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. There’s something strange happening to your-“
Lyla is cut off by Miguel turning her off as he speed walks towards the observation room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The tiny wail broke the chaotic tension in the room as tears of joy flood out of the exhausted woman. The squealing babe was placed on her chest as the doctors returned back between her legs to remove the placenta. Her trembling hands came up to soothe the baby boy as his slimy body trembled in the new environment. His dark hair matted to his soft head as his mother placed a delicate kiss on her baby boy’s forehead.
“Hello, Ben.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Miguel storms into the observation room as the target of his search stared silently at the glowing red spiral of webs. The images of the Maria of Earth 1784-B played out on a holographic image as she looks like she was tussling with the two boys he recognized as Maria’s brothers. An image of that world’s Miguel comes up and playfully picks up the three with a stumble before throwing them on the couch with a laugh as his wife comes up and laughs behind him.
The family that Miguel dreamed about every night. The one he tried to achieve twice in different ways before it was stolen from him. The one he can’t help but crave with his beloved but knows it probably won’t happen.
“Cariño?….” His voice barely as whisper as he approaches his lover as she jumps in surprise.
Her teary eyes stared at him in alarm as a protective hand was placed on her stomach.
Miguel ignores that detail, believing that she was just mourning her lost baby boy, and gently placed his hand on her cheek, softly wiping away her tears.
Her eyes shine with untold anxiety as her choked sob caused Miguel to pull her into his chest. “Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame....” He whispers softly into her hair as he wraps his arms tightly around her.
Her own grip traps him against her shaking body as she cries into his chest. Her worries slowly spilling out as she sobs, “ It’s not fair…”
“I know. “ Miguel mumbles as he rubs the base of her skull softly to provide some relief from the pain. “The universe is cruel…”
“It is…” she agrees as her breathing eventually evens out enough for her to pull away slightly to look up into his concern burgany gaze. “Miggy…Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…” She admits with an unstable edge in her voice.
Miguel frowns at this as he cups her face. His concerned love filled eyes closes as he pulls her towards his lips. He kisses her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers. His eyes opening as an encouraging smile shines at him.
“No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.” He mutters as he feels his beloved’s hands wrap around his thick wrist, using his pulse to stablize her.
“Really?” She looks for reassurance as her swollen eyes searched his for any doubt.
“Yes. I’m sure…”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, beautiful!” A voice cheers as she enters the hospital room.
The new mother was propped up on a the hospital bed with her newborn son swaddled up in a soft blue blanket. She stops admiring the sleeping babe to smile up as April walks over with a bright smile and a beautiful bouquet of Carnations. Their petals were a soft pink with a baby blue ribbon wrapped around the glass vase. April places the arrangement down as she sits beside the bed.
“So that’s my grandchild?” She asks as she reaches over and gently caresses the bundle. Ben stirs for a moment before settling back down. The young mother nods and slowly moves the baby into her god mother’s arms.
The new grandmother accepts the baby happily as she leans back and gently coos at the sleeping Ben.
“You’re gonna have him spoiled.” She jokes as she admires watching how the older woman’s eyes light up as the baby’s face twitches.
“Grandbabies are for spoiling while children are made for scolding.” April quips back playfully as she giggles at her Goddaughter. “Oh, your boss brought those by the apartment. He said he hopes you’ll bring the little guy by the lab when he’s big enough.”
A confused frown takes over her face before she realizes that her mentor must have been the one she met. Working at Alchemax during her work study and pregnancy allowed her to get close to the board member that gave her the chance to work here. Him being a father himself, he took the pupil under his wing and helped her a lot during this time, even easing her worries with embarrassing tales of his own parenting blunders . He was more of a friend now than her mentor.
As April entertains herself with the infant, the mother reaches over and plucks the card placed on the top of the flower arrangement. She holds the card gently as she read the note, a soft smile.
‘Congratulations, kiddo. You made it to parenthood. You better bring that boy here to hang out with us because I need something more interesting to do than listen to Osborne’s voice all day. Signed, Dr. …. ‘
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Excuse me!!” A visual of Lyla appears beside the couple with an annoyed expression. Her irritability can be heard as she stares at the startled pair before glaring at Miguel.
“If you’re done being a couple of cry babies, I have some urgent news!” She snaps before pulling up a familiar red webbing with an odd addition wrapping around its nodes.
Miguel frowns in concern as he sees a blue web intertwining with the red nodes of his canon while his sunshine looked shocked.
This was not a normal anomaly…
“What is that?” Miguel asks while Lyla scoffs.
“Your canon is changing, but not from an anomaly.” She explains. “Your universe is fixing itself.”
“Fixing itself from what?” Miguel growls as he’s growing frustrated at the rude behavior the AI was expressing.
“From the bun in your sunshine’s oven.”
And with a quiet what, the big bad Miguel O’Hara falls over and passes out.
~~~~~~~~
Translations:
Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame….—-I'm here, my love. Talk to me....
Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…—I have something to tell you...,but I'm scared you are going to be upset with me…
No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.—-No, my sun, I would never be upset with you. Especially if its causing you this much stress.
~~~~~~~~~
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'Vamily Spotlight': WoD Brand Team is Taking Art Without Permission
Recently, I was informed by a friend that some work of mine had shown up in the World of Darkness’ official ‘Vamily Spotlight’ section of their latest video. In this they talk about the gameplay reveal of Bloodlines 2 and generally drum up hype for it, which is largely what you expect from company channels when they’ve a new product out.
There’s a problem with this: I was never informed, or asked. No consent was given to use that work, or any others.
Through some excellent efforts by friends I also found that my work was in two other videos, with the earliest being well over a year ago-- totalling three, and they were up on both Twitch and YouTube.
Now, you’ll note that I’m a professional artist with two separate art degrees and well over a decade and a half of training. I’ve also a basic understanding of copyright and fair use.
The Vamily Spotlights are little to do with the review and news section of the video and therefore do not really have bearing on the main point of the video. To this end, I’d assume they’re there as a draw to viewers, maybe to see if their or their friends’ work has turned up in these official videos. And nominally that’s a valid tactic for engagement, if you have permission to use these pieces of work.
They do not however have permission, and certainly not from me.
As of writing, (5th of February 2024) I’ve issued a DMCA request for all three of the videos my work shows up in on both Twitch and YouTube, and takedowns are pending but I would urge people in the WoD tag here on Tumblr to check the available videos for themselves, if they are as concerned as I am. The screenshots of art in the videos they use to spotlight seem to come from Tumblr, as well as whole TikTok videos and other social media posts. If this makes the rounds elsewhere, do check your stuff wherever you are, WoD fans.
As the videos are also present on the Twitch VOD platform, this means they are actively charging money using our work without permission. I am unsure if their YouTube channel is monetised.
If they use your work for their spotlights, they are making advertisements and revenue off of your work without any reimbursement or prior consent.
I don’t know if other artists were asked, but I definitely wasn’t, and by now we all know the issues with ‘exposure’ and how that does not keep artists fed or housed.
And Paradox Interactive, having artists, they should know that you do not take for free from any of us-- at any level of influence or professionalism. The WoD community is not a free for all for companies to pick and choose free art to use like a bowl of cute little multicoloured sweets, it’s a bunch of creative, inspired and crafty people who come together across any edition of the many worlds in the setting to create as is our fair right to do so. Without being taken for granted, and without being cynically harvested for ‘content’. How vampiric.
Additionally I would like to note that all of my World of Darkness fanworks are based on legacy books; Vampire 20th Anniversary Edition, Mage the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition and Hunter: the Reckoning First Edition most often, though there are appearances from others. You’ll note that not one of these books is the territory of Paradox Interactive or their World of Darkness brand management team-- looks to me like they’ve simply trawled the tag without reading what they’re looking at, which means they certainly didn’t take the time to ask permission to use these works. Not only were these actions tantamount to theft, it was also not even their fanart to begin with. And once again, they’d have known this had they contacted me at all, which they did not. It’s a failure on their part on several levels and not only do I want the videos taken down, I think the community is sorely owed an apology for this frivolous theft of art under the banner of ‘community content’. I didn’t opt in to having my work taken, and it should not have been assumed that it was okay to take my work just because it’s using a tag they also use!
I want everyone to know I have had zero benefit from their use of my work-- no money, no notes and no dialogue. This does not help artists. This does not help the community.
I’m willing to talk about this should anyone want to ask, but this is a gross abuse of artists and creatives’ rights for the sole purpose of gain by the World of Darkness brand team, and I expected better. I know I personally deserve an apology for this at the very least, as well as the WoD team to commit to actually contacting artists and sourcing permission in future-- and to set up an opt-in or out system for whether people want to be featured. I know I don’t, and I never asked to be. My work’s lovely, and they’re right to have said so. But it’s not for Paradox, and it’s not for Outstar or any of the other Brand team.
It’s for me, and people here on Tumblr who like it.
I’m disappointed, in PDX and in the WoD Brand team, because they should know far better than this.
#wod#world of darkness#vtm#vampire the masquerade#htr#hunter the reckoning#art theft#WoD community: please watch out#'spotlights' aren't good exposure#they're only there to benefit the company that takes from you#PDX#paradox interactive#now youse on this blog will know off by heart how I personally feel about paradox#I've been clear about their abuses in the past#this is another one
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬
Pairing: Criston Cole x reader
Warnings: Swearing, smut
1.06
Gwayne searches your face until he meets your eyes. You offer him a reassuring look, then glance back up at the ceiling. His panting becomes heavier as he quickens his thrusts. Gwayne wasn’t a bad person; there was just no passion or love between the two of you. Laying together was nothing more than an act of duty.
“Gods,” he groans.
Seconds later, Gwayne drops his body down on top of you. He pecks at your cheek before pulling out and rolling onto his side. You lick at your dry lips, then get to your feet, and immediately start pushing your nightgown down. Gwayne appears to have enjoyed himself a lot more than you did, then again he got to reach his peak, which was disappointing considering you used to enjoy having sex.
“Do you want me to escort you back to your chamber?”
“No, but thank you for the offer.” You pull the thick robe that resembles a coat on and tie it at the front, making yourself more presentable to walk through the castle halls. “Gwayne, are we going to address what your family is saying?”
Sighing, Gwayne gets up from his spot on the bed, his body bare for all to see, and begins pouring himself a goblet of wine. “If you are desperate to have another babe I’m sure the gods will grant you one.”
“I am not desperate to have another child. Pregnancy and childbirth are both horrid experiences; it’s a matter of performing our duty. The weight of having a child weighs more heavily on me than it does on you. The blame always falls upon the woman. It will be me they will whisper about and call a failure.”
“Dear wife,” he says. Shaking his head, Gwayne walks over to you with a small smile pulling on his lips. “I do believe there is a way to make this more simple. The unspoken issue is the fault may lie with me, but you can bear another child, so if needs be, a possible solution is you seek out the company of another.”
“Are you suggesting I take a lover to impregnate me?”
His jaw clenches ever so slightly, but Gwayne nods. “The babe would still have the last name Hightower. I would fiercely claim them as my own.”
“Would you be able to love them if they were from another?”
“Love,” Gwayne inhales sharply, “a foreign concept to some. I’m not suggesting we stop trying, but just explore other ways of getting what we both want.”
“I would be breaking the vows I made at our wedding.” A man could break his vows and nobody batted an eyelid, but seven hells rain down on any woman who did. “I know this is not a match we made for ourselves, but I didn’t think you would be so eager for me to bed another.”
“I also have my father breathing down my neck, continually insisting our family legacy continues. Not to mention all the snide comments from my sister.” Sighing, Gwayne swirls his drink. “I’m just saying if you thought laying with another would improve your chances of having a child sooner, it wouldn’t be an issue with me.”
“It would not?”
“No.”
You didn’t know what else to say; your mind was racing trying to process everything he just said. "Goodnight, husband, I have much to think about.”
—
You are so lost in thought you almost walk by Ser Criston and into your chambers without even acknowledging him; it’s not until he opens the door and speaks that you come back to reality.
“Goodnight princess.”
You spin on your heels and speak quietly. “Can I ask you something? The other night... do you judge me for what I did or said?”
He thinks about it before answering, “No, I don’t.”
“...thank you, Ser Cristion.” You want to say more, but taking in the knight's appearance, you can see exhaustion weighing him down and decide it is best to leave it for another time. “You can retire for the night. Another member of the king's guard can take over. I shall see you in the morrow.”
—
You hear your daughter wail before you see her. Her cheeks flushed red as she cries hysterically while Raya holds her.
“Meera, my sweet,” You tuck the thick book of your family's history under your armpit and hold your arm out, taking your daughter from Raya. “What is the matter?”
The moment she’s in your arms, Meera clings to you. You had gone to the godswood to read while it remained dry outside. The feeling of your warmth and soft voice soothes your daughter, and soon she starts to calm down. You look to Raya and quietly ask, “What has upset her so much?”
“They were talking about houses and their sigils during her lessons, and when they mentioned House Stark, she got upset.”
You sigh. Meera misses her father, and unfortunately there wasn’t much you could do to remedy that pain. “Your cheeks are awfully warm.” You place Meera back on the ground and take her hand. “Come, let’s get you back inside.”
You briefly lock eyes with Ser Criston; there hadn’t been a chance for you to have a private conversation with him yet, as there was always someone else nearby. The godswoods may have been your chance, but there was now a more pressing matter.
“Do you want me to do anything else for her?” Raya asks.
You nod, “Have a cool bath prepared; hopefully that will stop her from being so flush. Thank you.”
As you walk back towards the halls of the red keep, serval lords and ladies have looks of disgust on their faces as Meera continues to sob. At the heart of the congregation of ladies sitting by the archways is Alicent, with an almost mocking smile pulling on her lips. You felt judged, as if your daughter crying somehow made you a bad mother.
“Princess,” Ser Criston’s voice is softer than usual. “Pay no mind to their glances. Most ladies at court children are raised by handmaidens; I doubt many of them would be able to say what brings comfort to their child, let alone enjoy spending them with them.”
“Thank you, Ser.”
—
As you leave your father's chambers, Rhaenyra links her arm with yours and whispers, “I’ve been thinking about your situation.”
“Which one?”
She giggles, “aōha valzȳrys's suggestion hen ao taking another naejot bed.” (Your husband's suggestion of you taking another to bed.)
“Rhaenyra!”
“Shhh,” she pulls on your arm tighter and continues the conversation in High Valyrian. “I know there will be no shortage of men who would be honoured to bed you, but I definitely think I know the one.”
“Who?”
She subtly moves her eyes in the direction of your sworn shield, who was walking not far behind you beside her own. You pray to the mother that neither of them had secretly learnt High Valyrian.
“A man who takes a vow of chastity values honour above all else.”
“He’s swore an oath of loyalty to you, sister. The way he looks at you goes beyond duty.”
“Enough of that. I value—” you pause before saying his name out loud. “Him too much. Besides, if I was desperate, I’d ask Daemon.”
“Gods no...” Rhaenyra rolls her eyes. “Daemon has probably slept with all the whores in the keep.”
“Yet, there are still some who would find themselves drawn to him,” you say teasingly. “I would do no such thing. The temptation to rub it in Otto’s face would be too great for him.”
She nods in agreement. “I am being serious though; your shield would be willing if you asked. Also, father wishes for him to join you in your travels.”
You swallow thickly. Your father had reluctantly granted you leave from the keep to return to Winterfell with Meera for a short time; however, you had no intention of having a full party of knights and handmaidens accompanying you. Flying on Dragonback would be much easier for everyone.
As you reach the far end of the royal quarters, you switch back to English. “Let’s speak no more of this. I’d rather visit my sweet nephews in the nursery before Meera finishes her lessons.”
—
The rain was relentless; each gust of wind would have threatened to unseat you if you weren’t strapped into your saddle so tightly. The wind whips your unbraided hair into a tangled mess that sticks to your face. Despite the heavy downpour, Lady pressed on, knowing that every moment spent in the sky was another moment of freedom for you both.
You’re ready to wait for the passing storm to end, but as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the darkness, Lady plunged down towards the forest floor, sheltering herself under the thick trees.
While landing, she knocks over a few small trees and is boisterous while doing so. The spot was near the cave she had claimed and had begun showing signs of nesting behavior. You couldn’t see any knights, but you could hear the sound of rhythmic galloping getting closer.
Climbing off Lady, you say, “Ao sagon ȳgha kesīr.” (You’re safe here.)
Lowering her head for her customary sniff, she nudges you with her nose, and you embrace her, resting your forehead against her damp peach scales.
“Princess!”
“Don’t come any closer, Ser Criston,” you call back. “Be careful not to startle Lady; she’s very protective.”
In High Valyrian, you speak in a soothing tone to Lady, lovingly rubbing your hands over her scales until she retreats back in her cave. When you mentioned she had made a den for herself outside the dragonpit, your father had ordered knights to guard the cave at all times, so there was some light in the darkness of the forest by the torches hung up against the trees.
“Ser Criston?” You glance around, trying to figure out where he was.
Hearing the snapping of branches, you spin fast and are taken by surprise seeing his is so close to you and stumble backwards. You find yourself in the arms of the knight as he catches you before you hit the ground.
Instead of wearing his armor, Criston was dressed in his own clothes, with a thick black cloak shielding his body from the rain. “Your shift was finished hours ago, Ser, why did you come?”
“I saw the weather was worsening and was worried. I wanted to make sure you returned safely, princess.”
You hold his gaze; there were more than a dozen knights on guard; any of them could have been your escort home. “Don’t speak half-truths.”
Criston leans into you, his breath warm against your ear. “You have not been yourself of late. And in truth, it made me nervous knowing you are out here, in the storm with so much on your mind.”
“Scared I’d fly away and not return?”
He laughs, “The king would most definitely have my head if you did. I was worried you’d get hurt.”
Your heart races as you feel the knight's strong grip on your arms. With a sudden movement, your lips met his. Criston’s lips were warm and firm against yours, sending shivers down your spine. As you pull away, you couldn't help but feel a longing for more. “Forgive me,” you say as you step out of his grip. “That was inappropriate; I should not have done that.”
“There is no forgiveness needed.” Criston’s hand rests on the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jaw. “What is troubling you, princess?”
“I’ve found myself in a position I thought I’d ever be in. Gwayne wants me to bed another so that we may do our duty to our houses.”
“To bed another?” He repeats this while guiding you to gain shelter underneath a tree. You were thankful the night was so dark that even with the torches, no other knight would be able to have witnessed what you just did.
“Yes, and I just—I understand his trail of thinking, but I cannot expect another to go along with a lie like that.”
“I’m sworn to you, princess. My sword and shield are yours.”
“Ser Criston, I cannot ask you to—”
“Love you in secret?” Criston presses into you until your back hits the tree. Your noses gently brush together, and his lips lightly ghost over your own. “I’m afraid it may be too late to stop that from happening.”
You give in and lean forward, kissing him. Tangling your hands in his damp hair, his fingers caress your ribcage. “This is wrong,” you whisper. “We should stop.”
“Tell me to stop, princess, and I swear we’ll never mention this again.”
“No, Criston, I don’t want you to stop. And that is what’s wrong.”
He kisses you again, but this time it becomes more heated and all doubt disappears. You move his hand that’s resting on your ribs up to cup your breast, silently signaling you want more for this to go further.
Criston moves his leg to open yours further and presses his knee against your core. “Do you want this, princess?”
“Gods, yes.”
Your breath hitches in your throat when Criston repositions himself and grinds against you, his lips pressing into the sweet spot on the side of your neck. He bunches your skirts up, giving him easier access; he spits on his fingers before rubbing circles on your clit. After a few moments, he steps back to lower his trousers enough for his cock to spring free.
Wrapping his arms around you, Criston lifts you high enough that your legs hook around his waist. “You’ve no idea how badly I desire you, princess.”
Desperate to feel him, you pull your skirts and small cloth to the side and line the head of his cock against your cunt. Criston muffles your moans with a kiss when he pushes inside you with ease.
“Fuck,” you whine against his lips.
“Shh,” he starts to thrust slowly. “Nobody can see us, but if they hear us, they will come looking.”
Biting your lower lip, you bury your face into the side of his neck. Doing your best to not make any more noise, as all primal urges take over. You dig your nails into the back of Criston's, keeping him close as he thrusts into you amongst the wind and rain.
#house of the dragon#criston cole fanfic#criston cole x reader#ser criston cole x you#criston cole x you#ser criston cole smut#ser criston cole x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon smut#criston cole smut#the blood between us#house of the dragon fanfic#ser criston cole#ser criston cole/reader#criston cole#the blood between us 1.06#HOTD smut
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can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji
a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one
the series masterlist. | previous | next
cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes
author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...
"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"
another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."
your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.
"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.
"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."
"don't tell me what to do."
wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.
he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"
ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.
that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?
he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"
"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.
yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."
the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...
"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."
"is this my fault?"
"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."
it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.
you can feel your phone buzzing again.
"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.
you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.
begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.
the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"
"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"
"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."
obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."
"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.
cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.
but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"
"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.
damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."
"thank you—!" you cut off the line.
"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.
you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!
you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.
#cgrom ୨ৎ#jjk series#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#fushiguro toji x reader#toji headcanons#jujutsu toji#toji x you#toji imagine#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji imagines#toji angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen angst
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