#because hes our little meowmeow

[blackkatdraws2]

He's entertaining to watch, what can I say. [Blank Scripts AU]

[just-some-random-blogger]

Ghosts

[Waiting For A Lifetime IV] Part 1 2 3 4 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader + Aemond Targaryen x Reader + others (;

Summary: Ghosts will ride on to haunt you. Ghosts will come from your past, carrying a holy axe. Ghosts will taunt you you. Ghosts will come from your your memories, intent on burning the bridges at last.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, Modern AU, smut (biting, hair pulling, but its honestly its vanilla, crying [they get pretty emotional], vaginal penetration, cream pie, cock warming), surface level knowledge on asoiaf lore, internet translated high valyrian, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: welcome my meowmeows today we die- i i mean dine 😃 i say MDNI but its at the very end so once you reach that part, you can always choose not to read it. please keep in mind that I have little knowledge about any asoiaf lore so if you would like to correct me, have at me Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @pearlstiare @llovinjoonie @sabrina6272827 @ayamenimthiriel @comicsol1999 @fictionalcomforts @mirandastuckinthe80s @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @panagiasikelia @mlwriting5 @bibli0thecary @ateliefloresdaprimavera @margaglitterdeath @fan-goddess @bibli0thecary @iamlost @queenofshinigamis @thebullship @slavyanskiyahui

"What are you doing?"

I look out the balcony. A wind blows across my body. My frilly lingerie flows in the wind.

"Come back inside, it's cold."

I lean on the fence. I look down at the view of Dorne as far as the eye could see. I release a breath.

I hear my name get spoken. It was no alias. No made up identity. It was my name. He calls out my name.

"I'm not cold," I mutter, mostly to myself.

A hand comes around my waist. I sigh as I am pulled in against a warm body. He hisses and presses his lips on my head, "you're ice cold, baby."

I shake my head, refusing to lean against him, "the sun hasn't shone yet. What do you expect the whether to be at this time?

He pushes my hair back and leans in to kiss my neck. His stubble scratches my skin. His deep voice utters, "I'll make you tea and breakfast..." both hands come to my stomach as he pulls me closer, "then toast, or waffles, or pancakes, or bac-"

He flinches and tightens his hold on me when there is a loud crash from the street below. He pulls away from me to check what happen. I don't look, instead I go inside.

"Fucking car crash," he calls out as I walk over to his bedroom, the bedroom that I had been staying in for far too long.

When I get there, I begin to pack my things and dress up. I catch my face in the mirror as I put on my pants. I freeze because of it. I trace the scars on my chest, from a dagger, I look at the marks at the curve of my jaw, from a sword, then I look at my hands, calloused centuries of memories. I feel hollow... hollower. I am reminded of my loneliness. I was devoid of purpose.

I look over my shoulder when I hear him call my name again. I hastily put the rest of my clothes on.

My purpose was not with him.

I shove clothes in my bag and zip it close.

He could not give me purpose.

I exit the bedroom before he can enter, and I head for the door. He catches my arm and stops me before I can walk any father. He says my name. I ignore him. He tugs my arm desperately, just how he repeats my name. I look at him, stoic, "I have to go."

His thick brows furrow. His jaw clenches. He shakes his head. He tightens his grip on my arm and steps forward, "I'm going to make you your fav-"

"I can't do this anymore, Bobby," I mutter sharply under my breath.

He freezes. I pull my arm away from him. I clutch my bag and face him fully, "our time is up."

He shakes his head. He places his hands on his hips. He calms his breathing. He speaks lowly, "stay for breakfast."

I press my lips into a soft smile, "you have been nothing but-"

"No."

"-kind, and sweet, and caring-"

"No. Please. No!"

"-and you are reason why I have gotten the closest I have to feeling love like this after such a long time-"

Bobby mutters my name and walks over to me. He clutches my bag and urges me toward him, "and I can show you more. Please, please just-"

I press my fingers on his lips. I shake my head and look at his glassy eyes. I brush back the short dark hairs by his forehead as I continue to disagree, "you deserve better than this."

"No I-"

"You deserve someone who's going to love you back."

"I don't want someone to love me back!" He grabs my shoulders, "I just want you."

I mutter his name but he does not hear it as he talks over me with a million offers, a million solutions, a million things he could and would do, so long as he could keep me.

I release my bag and clutch his shirt. I clench my jaw as tears leave my eyes at the sight of the ones streaming down his face. I release a sigh and lean into him. I silence him by claiming his mouth with my own. It is sad, it is desperate, it is salted with tears.

He pulls me against his chest. He does it with much vigor, intent on trapping me against his chest. He rubs my back and chases my mouth like it was his lifeline. He pushes me back. I let him push me back. He seals me against the wall and his arms, but then he dig his fingers into my waist band.

"Bobby-" I catch his wrists.

"Please," he mutters, kissing me again, "I'm good at his. I'm good at this... can make you feel good. Please."

I push him away before he can undo the button.

He whimpers. His voice cracks, "please- please, I can make you love me."

I shake my head. I ghost my fingertips on his temple, "not in this lifetime," I touch my lips on his cheek for the final time, "goodbye, Bobby."

I snap to my side, reeling out of my thoughts when I hear someone cough. I am back in reality, evidence was the sight of King Viserys' raised brows. I shrug and turn back to the artifact hung on the wall, "Dornish art to me is..." I brush away the memory that flooded my brain as I offered a smile to the man beside me, "heart ache and heat."

Viserys chuckles as he glances at the display, "that doesn't sound very enthusiastic. Are you not a fan of the Dornes?"

I release a breath, "I speak this with nothing but honesty," I raise my hands, "but I am biased to the aesthetics of the Targaryen dynasty."

The king laughs, "spoken like a true poet."

I press my lips into a soft smile, "well, I am a lover of many arts, my king." I motion to the exit of the exhibit, "perhaps, I think, you would enjoy this area of the museum much more, your majesty."

I lead the king (and his bodyguards) to the next section of the place. Immediately, the king reacts to the sight of the massive dragon skull in the middle of the room. He laughs as he nears the thing. I smile at the sight of his excited face.

"Balerion," the king says.

I tail after him as he moves to the inscription for the object, "indeed. The Black Dread, mount of King Aegon the first, King Maegor the first, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys the first."

The king chuckles under his breath as he shakes his head, "skoros iā ossȳngnon ziry would emagon issare."

What a terror he would have been.

I nod my head and look at the skull, "a fearsome and terrorizing beauty indeed."

Viserys turns to me just as I motion to the walls and begin to ramble about the history of it all, particularly nerding out over the massive painting depicting dragons, Targaryen princes, and civil war.

"You need not remind me of the history of my ancestors, pet," he says, walking up beside me, with his hands behind his back, "what I am more interested in is the rest of your tale with the prince."

I turn to Viserys and give him a smile and shrug, "as I said your grace, I have recounted all the memories I've had with your brother, prince Daemon the eighth."

The king makes a face, "huh," he raises a brow and narrows his eyes, "I don't suppose you have memories with prince Daemon the seventh then?"

I chuckle, "no," I shake my head, turning back to the painting, "only with Daemon the first."

The king laughs under his breath and turns to the painting as well.

"Oh yes I do hope you're enjoying yourself, brother."

Before I could react to the words that were spoken, I am pulled back and kissed on the neck. I turn from the painting, one of the many that visualized the Dance of the Dragons, then over my shoulder about the same time Viserys does.

"Daemon-" the king barks, eyes looking out to room, warry of everyone around. He does not continue when he hears the prince pipe up to me, "did he do anything unsavory to you, my love?"

This time, both Viserys and I speak his name, albeit starkly contrasting.

"Daemon," I mutter, as I try to push him away, "please, we are out in public. Some-"

"I don't give a fuck," Daemon cuts me off, ripping me back into him, "answer the question."

"Daemon," Viserys grumbles, stepping close, "unhand her."

"No!" Daemon snaps, shooting a look of daggers to his brother.

I gasp as I press my fingers to his lips. I slowly move away from him. "My love please," I whine, "the king has been nothing but kind to me and all he is asking for you to conduct you-"

"I will not have anyone, even the king, separate me from my bride," he yanks me close to him, arm coming around my shoulders.

My hands clutch his arms.

At that moment, because of how it reflected the light, Viserys spots the silver ring on his brother's bride. His eyes twitches as he rethinks the story of the personal vows. He scoffs, eyes darting back up to Daemon, "you do realize doing this makes her life more difficult."

Daemon turns to his brother, lips curling into a smile, although he was not amused by the thought even a fraction, "well then let me take her to Dragonston-"

"Keep your voice down," Viserys hisses, stepping closer.

Daemon pushes me behind him and moves towards the king, "lo ao sagon olvie gaomagon lēda aōha urnēptre hen kustikāne naejot ñuha ābrazȳrys, ao sȳrje sagon jāre sir."

If you're quite done with your show of strength to my wife, you best be going now.

"Daemon," I call out

Viserys makes a face as he scoffs. He shakes his head, "I'm doing this to protect you, Daemon."

"Well I don't want your protection," he mutters, "I can protect myself. I can protect her," he quips, "what I need is your-"

"My what?" Viserys cuts, "my blind obedience to your wishes?" He lets out another scoff, "perhaps you should have been born first and become king."

Daemon holds his tongue. This is why Viserys will never know that the word his baby brother meant to say was blessing.

Viserys pulls away from Daemon and masks his expression rather quickly when he hears one of the bodyguards tell off some people from trying to enter this part of the exhibit and for attempting to take pictures.

I watch as the lines on Daemon's face tighten. I watch as he presses his lips together in tension where Viserys loosens his jaw and takes a breath.

The king turns around, clapping his hands together, putting on a grin, "well, if I must leave, then I should have my photo be taken with the staff of the museum." He turns to me, "would you be a dear and invite your colleagues over for a photo?"

Daemon turns to me as Viserys points, "I should like one with Balerion."

I smile and nod, "of course, your grace."

When I move off to round up the museum personnel, Daemon grabs my arm and knits his brows. He presses his lips into a pleading frown and makes up for the space between us.

I sigh and shake my head, "calm down," I mutter in High Valyrian. I reach out for his cheek and brush his skin, "nothing will happen with me. I will be back soon."

Viserys knits his brows as he watches Daemon mutter pleas in their mother tongue not to be left alone. He feels a sting in his heart at the desperation of his brother. He is deeply disturbed by everything.

He then thinks about the admission he heard earlier, about when Daemon wandered off drunk and arrived at his 'wife's' home, nothing but actual sleeping happened. He wonders if Daemon will lose interest once they share a bed.

I sigh when Daemon steals a kiss from my lips. I brush his hair back and give him a smile before I walk off to do my business. Daemon refuses to release my hand until the very last moment. He leaves his arm hanging in the air as he watches me walk away.

Viserys watches Daemon watches me.

"Brother," Viserys says, "I am genuinely concerned for you."

Daemon turns to him, all the softness in his expression fading. He pettily ignores the king and turns to the painting on the wall. He crosses his arms and stares blankly.

The elder of the two sighs and beholds the same painting before him. Viserys thinks about the artistry but only for a moment because he beholds the fury of the dragons, the fury of the princes, the fire and the blood. He looks upon the legacy of his house, the strife of his kin, the romanticization of it all. Then he looks upon his brother. He looks at how his violet eyes glistened with the light from the room, and yet the light in his eyes was not there.

And he looked again when their picture was taken, how he smiled softly at the camera as he stood next to whom he was so adamant to be around. Viserys saw the change.

Daemon places his arm over both me and one other employee. I turn to Bertha as she grins and says, "the prince has his arm on our shoulders."

I grin back at her as Daemon smiles at me, "well, I must constantly be surrounded have a beautiful woman in my arm," he turns to Bertha, "now I have two."

Bertha giggles as I shake my head.

I turn to Aemond to my right. He is rigid beside me, and so pull him close and offer a smile. He mumbles under his breath, "I can do something if you're not uncomfortable with having your photo taken."

I give him a quick smile and shake my head, "it'll be fine."

Aemond clenches his jaw. He turns away just before Daemon shoots him a look.

"Alright everyone," the photographer says, "big smile in 3, 2, 1."

The photo ends up on the news, on the TV, on the radio, on the internet, on the magazines, on the newspaper.

King Viserys and Prince Daemon honor Museum of Ice and Fire with a visit in line with upcoming Cultural Arts Celebration

The Blonde Brothers reunite with a visit to Museum of Ice and Fire in honor of incoming Cultural Arts Celebration to be held next week.

Targaryens storm the Museum of Ice and Fire, leaving everyone swooning and saluting

Prince Daemon flirts with local museum curator during a visit to Museum of Ice and Fire

Upon reading seeing the photos attached to one of the many headlines tied to that day, Bobby drops his mug and misses the table, causing it to crash and break and spill all over the floor. He hisses as the hot coffee splashes on his leg and yet he pays no more than a second's thought on it as he leans into his computer and clicks the link on the screen.

He stares at the photograph of the prince with his arm over two women, one of which he knew for she was his ghost, his love, his heartbreak and heat.

He lets out a shaky breath then pushes himself off his desk chair. He grabs his phone and calls a contact, biting his fingernails as he did so.

"Hell-"

"Martell," he says, which is enough of a formality you could ever get out of him at this point, "I need you to pull out some old files and redo some research for me."

Alternatively, Aegon was hammering his head over and over again on his table as he wasted the little time he had on break by obsessing over the articles he saw on the internet.

He wasn't hungry anyway.

No, that was a lie. He was starving, but he already finished his snack after stuffing the fish and chips he had in his mouth far too quickly for anyone's good. He hadn't even realized he finished it, nor that he was eating, really, upon until he looked to his empty plate with shock washing over.

Now he had just made himself miserable and didn't feel any fuller than he was before eating.

He looks at the time and laughs bitterly to himself. This was supposed to be the time his saving grace came, but he knew no one was coming today.

He messages his brother again. Scrolling up from the first message he sent today down to the last.

DUDE WTF THE ROYAL FAMILY IS AT YOUR JOB? BRUH BRUH brush bruh AEMOND THE HELL IS HAPPENING oh is it the king wtf is the king doing there THE BLOND BITHCES ARE THERE aemond are you dead?????????? AEMOND WAHT THE FUCK Link attached WHAT THE FUCK YOU SITTING THERE NEXT TO HER Link attached Link attached Link attached AEMOND YOU IDIOT BITCH ASS CUNT RESPOND TO ME i hope youre miserable i hope you see them make out again can you ask her if shes coming ............ i know she wont but do it anyway fuck you bitch Image Attatched

"Quit flippin' on ya phone and get back to work boy," Aegon's boss calls as he enters the storage room, "breaks over."

Aegon stands and nods, "yeah, boss."

Aemond sorely ignored his phone as it blew up. It was bad enough that his head was plagued with the images of a doting couple sneaking glances and touches of each other, he did the right thing by putting his phone on silent.

He was currently on chapter 15 of the book he found entitled Blood Magic, Soul Ties, & Rebirth. In truth, it was nothing like he expected it to be. It was written more like a diary rather than a document like he had expected. It was all written in the perspective of the author, much like the tomes of the old history of Westeros, but, in his opinion, not at all academic in nature. Upon seeing there were parts that spilled into fantastical accounts Aemond understood why this book was still very much under review in the museum, and not somewhere in the national library. What exactly was it?

The chapters would start with personal ire:

Eman suffered rōvēgrī va se [account] hen [magic] se [ash]. Nyke ilimagho se [loss] hen mirre whom nyke jorrāelagon. Nyke [scorn] nykēla syt se [mercy] [exchanged] syt ñuha [soul], skore nyke ojūdan. Gaoman daor jaelagon naejot glaesagon, yn nyke glaesagon syt zirȳla.

I have suffered greatly on the [account] of [magic] and [ash]. I mourn the [loss] of all whom I love. I [scorn] myself for the [mercy] [exchanged] for my [soul], which I lost. I do not wish to live, but I live for him.

And then would go about to explain the process of a certain spell or incantation, all of which involve the spilling of blood, be it animal or human.

Se [spell] syt ease hen riña sikagon. Issa [recommended] bona gaomā bisy [month] iā [less] gō se sikagon hen aōha riña. Kesā jorrāelagon ānogar hen iā [elk], iā molry hen iā [elk], lanta [hooves] hen iā [elk], ānogar hen iā atroksia, ampa [feathers] hen iā atroksia. Istia perform se [following] [incantation] rȳ se zōbrie bantio.

The [spell] for ease of child birth. It is [recommended] that you do this one [month] or [less] before the birth of your child. You will need blood of an [elk], a horn of an [elk], two [hooves] of an [elk], blood of an owl, ten [feathers] of an owl. You must perform the [following] [incantation] at the dark of night.

Finally ending with ominous warnings that tread the line between a word of caution and a threat.

Sagon [warned] bona se [cost] hen ānogar [magic] ēza zȳha [weight] isse ānogar. Daor [amount] hen āeksion kessa [save] ao hen se [consequences] hen skore ao jaelagon naejot [reap]. Sagon [warned] bona ao daor undo līr iksis gaomagon Se ao daor [exact] līr kessa sagon se [payment] syt aōha actions.

Be [warned] that the [cost] of the blood [magic] has its [weight] in blood. No [amount] of gold will [save] you from the [consequences] of which you wish to [reap.] Be [warned] that you cannot undo that which is done and you cannot [exact] that which will be the [payment] for your actions.

Aemond narrows his brows and cocks his head at a particularly random hark.

Eman issare maghatan arlī naejot ābrar ondoso se dārilaros se oh skorkydoso nyke jaelagon [instead] naejot emagon rhēdan zirȳla rȳ se remȳti hen mēre hen [heavens] iā sesīr rȳ mēre hen [hells]. Oh valzȳrys [would] ao [loathe] nyke syt [reaping] nykēla hen qrimbrōstan irudy ao teptan nyke?

I have been brought back to life by the prince and oh how I wish [instead] to have met him at the gates of one of the [heavens] or even at one of the [hells]. Oh husband [would] you [loathe] me for [reaping] myself of the cursed gift you gave me?

He straightens in his seat when someone comes in and announces he's done for the day and that Aemond should probably get going too. He nods his head in regard and puts the largish book down, debating whether or not anyone would look for it if he took it home with him.

He checks the time on his phone, swiping away his million notifications from his brother, then raises a brow at the email notification he got from his cousin, Alicent.

All the while the king and queen were discussing Daemon over dinner.

Aemma grins, "so you've given him your blessing!"

"Lovie, it's like you've not heard a word I said," Viserys says as he licks the side of his knife, which was covered in sauce.

"Visy, I heard you loud and clear, and I'm glad that you've opened up your heart for this," she smiles as she cuts up her meat.

The king rolls his eyes, "I gave him an ultimatum."

"Exactly," the queen shakes her head and repeats her husband's words, "1 week, 1 month, 3 months, half a year until a years passed. If he still feels the same as he does now, then I shall be attending a wedding at Dragonstone by this time next year and my Rhaenyra can expect cousins most swiftly!"

He sighs and drops his cutlery, "my dear," he licks his lips, "I don't want you to get your hope up over something that could well not last."

Aemma eyes him darkly, "well you ought to not jinx it with you sourness."

"Aemma."

"Viserys," she places her own silverware down, "you told me yourself that you saw how his eyes lit up at the sight of her."

He rolls his jaw and leans back on his chair.

"You and your brother have may act like you're constantly at separate ends of pole, but I know that each time you snarl and snap at each other with fire at the back of your throat, neither of you care any less about the other."

Aemma presses her lips together as Viserys looks at her face. He sighs. He reaches out for her cheek, stroking her fair brows, memorizing the curve of her lips before leaning in to kiss her. He would be lost without his light, his Aemma. He wonders if, truly, that was how Daemon felt about this woman.

Well, Daemon let his actions speak louder than his words that night.

The moment we arrived to my home, after Daemon begrudgingly waited out my shift in one of the royal guard's car, I was immediately swarmed by him, him and his hands, his lips, his voice, his breath. Daemon caught me against him and refused to concede, to yield, or even to loosen he grip.

He barely even let me lock my front door on our way inside. I was glad I managed through his tender and eager, open mouthed attacks.

"Kesā daor henujagon nyke arlī, ābrazȳrys," Daemon mutters as he pulls me into him not even a second after letting me go to close the door. He shoves my hair off to the side and attacks my nape with kisses, leading me backward as he blindly navigated my home in the dark.

I hiss then chastise him with giggles when he runs into my lamp, "Daemon please."

"It's so fucking dark."

I pull away from him and take his hands that were clutching my torso, leading him off to my bedroom.

The moment I open the door, he charges at me with more kisses, this time, the light from the street lamps and the moon made it easier for him to navigate to the bed.

I release a sigh when he pushes me back on the mattress, chest pressed against mine, hands caressing and massaging every part of my body. He breathily repeats his words from earlier in between kisses, "kesā daor henujagon nyke arlī, ābrazȳrys," he begins to rip at my clothing, "iksā ñuhon," he heaves, "mirre ñuhon," he presses his forehead on mine, "ñuhon, ñuhon, ñuhon, ñuhon -"

You will not leave me again, wife. You are mine. All mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine.

I shift on my spot and sit up as I help Daemon undress me before he sequentially helps me undress himself.

I whimper as he pushes me back down and grabs my thighs. I squeak out a moan, catching his face in my hands, as he hovers over me.

I cry his name out when I feel him brush his hardened and pulsing length against me. He hisses as he looks down. His hands leave my thighs, one landing by my side, propping him up, the other coming to my wetness, stroking me there sweetly, "such a pretty girl, my love... so ready for me."

I whine as he amuses himself by fondling with my slick. He touches me as light as a ghost and teases my weeping entrance like a devious little boy, hellbent on making chaos of everything.

"Daemon."

"Shhhh," he leans in and licks my lips, "ivestragī nyke emagon ñuha kirimves." Let me have my fun.

I chase after his mouth but he pulls away too quickly, continuing to make a mess of me.

I bring my fingers to his nape, nails digging into his scalp, firmly tugging at his blonde locks. I plead, "Daemon."

He pacifies me with a kiss but does not cease his teasing ministrations. I moan when I feel his two digits barely sink into me. He laughs against our kiss and has to pull away from me all together, both hands sinking into the cushion by my sides, to calm himself down.

I huff in frustration and impatience at his deep chuckles. I decide to take matters into my own hands, literally, and shift beneath him, grabbing his thick member, easing him into me.

His amusement curdles into a moan at my touch. We both audibly react when he slowly sinks into me. He cusses where I call out his name. He breathes hotly against my neck as I wrap my arms around him and seal my legs around his waist.

He suddenly finds it in him to laugh again. He does so with much excitement.

And though I whimper at the feel of him jolting within me, I cannot help but feel a sense of contentment wave upon me. I rub my cheek against his head and scratch his scalp gently. We stay like this for a long while. I do not mind it, not really, I like him like this. But with every second that passed, it felt like my pulse was banging harder and harder.

I whine "ñuha jorrāelagon, kostilus dīnagon, nyke jorrāelagon ao sir" My love, please move, I need you right now.

Daemon chuckles and kisses my jaw, hands squeezing my thigh firmly as he slowly lifts his head up, "so impatient."

I rock my hips beneath him as I nod, "need you so bad."

Daemon obliges and begins to slowly thrust into me. He kisses my lips and makes a sound that is a laugh mixed with a moan, "I know, baby," he digs his nails into my flesh, "I know," he repeats more solemnly, "I need you too-- need you so badly."

My breath hitches when he picks up his pace. He quickens just a little bit, so subtly, and it grinds at my brain. Each time he moves, he exits wholly and enters fully, he stretches me out so nicely and fills me up so good.

I pant against his shoulder and sink my teeth into his muscle, licking and sucking at the area.

He moans at the feeling. He then shifts me in my spot, pushing me up, allowing himself more leverage from above me, making me cry out when he hits a part in me that touches seemingly every nerve of my body.

I screw my eyes shut and feel my eyes water at the sensation. I throw my head back and rip at his shoulder blades.

He huffs against me and continues in his pace, andante, taking his time to move from tip to hilt, savoring each moment, each stroke, each huff, each sigh, each whimper.

He continues like this. He is steady like this. He is beautiful like this.

My fingers and toes curl at the feel of him. My belly flutters. My breath strains. My mind fogs. All because of him, because of how I take in his scent, how I taste his skin, how I wrap around him.

"Dārilaros," I mutter against his ear, "ao ȳdra daor gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke bōsa naejot gaomagon ao hae bisa."

My prince, you don't know how much I long to keep you like this.

Daemon thrusts particularly deeply.

Tears pool at the corner of my eyes. Air catches in my throat. I choke on a sob as emotion floods through me. I am hit with this epiphany so very suddenly. I was, next moment, cathartic over the fact he was real, he was here, and he was mine. After all these years, after the dredging, after the lamenting, after the hurting, here he was, a sky above me, a sanctuary around me, a hearth inside me.

He loves on my face, peppering my skin with with kisses, "pār gaomagon nyke va ao," he presses his hands on my waist, knocking into me with forte, "umbagon lēda nyke," he moans against my lips, "sagon ñuha lenton,"

Then keep me on you, stay with me, be my home.

When my hands dart to his cheeks. Only then do I realize that he, too, was teary eyed as my thumbs find the dampness on his face. I open my eyes to look at him but shut close again when his mouth finds mine.

Daemon eases into his accelerando, gently and caringly thrusting faster and faster, staying deeper and deeper until he barely pulls out and he's just trapped into me.

He nips at my lip as I my hands dart to his hips, ripping at the skin there. He continues in his tight movements until he ultimately hooks his hands at the back of my knees and pushes my legs up, breaking into me vigorously until I couldn't think and I could only feel and scream out his name.

And as I climbed up to my high, I called out to him. And as he eased up into his, he called out to me.

And then it all comes crashing down. And then I can't breathe or move, I just tighten and whine and break against him.

And then I feel him follow suit. And then he looses his mind and his tempo, he just pounds and melts and falls into me.

And I feel my whole body burn, I feel my nerves rip into a symphony of pleasure. I feel his heat spill into me. I fill him fill me up until he's completely spent and even after that. I feel my body flinch around him. I feel him bottom out and run over in me. And I missed it. I missed this so much. I missed him so much. I missed him.

His erratic movements lull into slow tender one again, yet he doesn't cease his rocking until I'm shaking and wailing and dripping all over. I feel myself overflow with him, in both literal and metaphorical. I feel my whole body burn while he heaves atop me as he delicately touches down. He rests his entire weight on me; he's an invited and longed for blanket, a heaviness that I have dreamt of having pressed against me for so long.

I feel his heart hammering in his ribcage as mine beneath him did the same. His strangled breath echoes mine. My name spills out of his lips like a prayer. He nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck. His hands rub my legs that were wrapped around him. He was fastens them around his hips, as if my limbs were not tight enough, as if it was possible for him to move closer into me than he already was.

I cradle his head in my hands and adjust my face beside his.

"Avy jorrāelan," I speak softly against his ear, "eman jorrāelatan jeme ñuha ābrar se kessa jorrāelagon ao sesīr tolī."

I love you. I have loved you all my life and will love you even after.

Daemon responds with a kiss, with a rub of his nose, then with his words, "ñuha gevie lenton," he lifts his head up, sighing as he reached out to my cheek, "ñuha vok dārilaros."

Im that moment, I see a vague outline of his face even with through the darkness of my bedroom, but more than that, I hear the affection in his words. The sincerity locked in his voice, "syt ao ossēninna tolvie zaldrīzes, geron tolvie rizmun, iderēbagon tolvie rūklon, se jiōragon se olvie jelevre isse ñuha irosh sepār naejot sagon able naejot ūndegon aōha laehurlion."

My breath hitches, "Dae-"

"Avy jorrāelan."

My beautiful home, my perfect princess, for you I will kill every dragon, walk every desert, pick every flower, and offer the very breath in my throat just to be able to see your face. I love you.

I feel tears rush down my face when I lean up and kiss him.

[tiredassmage]

🖊 + may i hear your thoughts about whoever is on your mind.. a crumb of meowmeow...

*coughs.* I've held onto this for way longer than I ever thought I would or planned to and since we all are missing Tyr (affectionate), I'm going to attempt to put some Tyr content on the feed. I am only slightly sorry that it's the heartbreaking, feels-filled and fueled kind, lol.

So! *claps my hands together* We're going to need a spoiler cut because I'm going to talk about the Nathema Conspiracy again. Maybe properly for once. Because boy howdy is there a lot Tyr Deckard has never unpacked about the implications of the Nathema Conspiracy! [Edit: and some. Agent specific and other general story spoilers from before that point as well. General advice: this post is for after the Nathema Conspiracy arc is resolved, lol]

Iokath and onward has really interesting implications with Tyr for a boatload of reasons, really. As Alliance Commander, the decision to ally with the Republic on Iokath puts him in opposition with Acina - who, if memory is serving correctly and if not is just my own personal taste of how the story plays - is serving around the Dark Council and eventually on it in the era where Tyr was actively serving in Imperial Intelligence, or at least shortly after it. While I can't claim to have successfully completed the Dread Masters nor the Seeker droid questlines because of those sneaky little operations and heroics they tacked on at the end of those quest lines, I've sent Tyr to work for Acina on early Dread Seed investigations at least once, and to say the least, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Certainly her remarks on Iokath do the same - it solidifies that impression, the story as Tyr knows it, that he's only been as good as his work wasn't too much of a risk for the Empire, and for the Council in particular.

Which is kind of its whole own separate ramble that isn't what I said we'd talk about, but I'm not sure I've really publicly discussed it and foggily I think it's only been implied in some of my older fic writing here or there. Which... is a bit of a shame, really. Empress Acina nearly seems like a Sith he might be able to work with, up until that moment. Intelligence should have retired you when they had the chance - the kind of proof for Tyr's opinion that the Empire hasn't changed in the nearly twenty years he's spent in his Intelligence career. In hindsight, it probably feels foolish to have ever considered maybe some experience would've taught her something, to give just enough belief that the Empire might finally have a leader that would take it in a direction of improvement, but... Unfortunately, nothing that happens there and after really gives him much time to linger on it.

But, again, that's... a different podcast for a different day, as I've fondly picked up from a recent professor, lol.

SO. About the actual promised subject of this post, lol! I always have to be very careful introducing Tyr in my mind palace to the traitor arc as a story piece in general because... here's the thing... Tyr's incredibly loyal, at his core. But he's loyal in the way that he'll tear himself apart to save you the trouble of trying to do the same thing. His loyalty is the kind where he asks to be told the truth so he can lie for you.

And also the kind of loyalty where he'd pull a trigger on you for the sake of a long-term bigger picture outcome where you might be better off. Were the roles much different, Tyr very easily could've been the Alliance traitor, and unfortunately for anyone he cares for, I know he'd sell the role hook, line, and sinker. Which for now is just sort of a thought exercise @ho1ythunder and I like to torture our blorbos in occasionally, for the most part, rather than... a primary version of events, if you will. But it's a very interesting and chewy one because very few other instances tempt Tyr to show his loyalty in such a spectacularly disastrous (for himself and others) fashion, and therefore I think a lot of those closest to Tyr just... don't really. know, entirely, that he's... that way. He's incredibly good at masking such edges in the careful dance of duties he performs.

His loyalty and his saying he'd never (like to) hurt the people he cares for is no less genuine for this reality of him, certainly. But Tyr Deckard is not a man who does anything by halves, and on a gamble like the one against the Heralds for the sake of the Alliance and a Commander he'd trust and be loyal to? That's the last job in the galaxy to ever do by halves, if he wants even half a shot at it actually working in the Alliance's favor.

Tyr's the type that would end up in the Alliance either way, likely - very likely as an Intelligence asset, if not finally in a directing and overseeing operations role by that point in his life and career. He's likely worked with Lana practically from the start on locating the Outlander; they already served fairly close together in Sith Intelligence and Tyr is... not really the type to stay idle about something like Zakuul. He was already uneasy in the Empire given his... sympathies and mission history, after all, and the Republic's just as deep up Schitt Creek, if you will, about Zakuul, so defection to the SIS isn't really an ideal option at that point anymore.

The Alliance was where he could do the most good. He believes in that idea - of pulling together both sides, of forging something new and possibly better to confront something bigger than any one of them. And as Nine, he's played more than his fair share of spy games with shadow organizations - from the Star Cabal to the Shroud to the Revanites.

Regardless of how the Eternal Throne is resolved, unrest is almost a given with that much change going down in Zakuul. With the resources of Alliance Intelligence, it's... no stretch to consider someone with Tyr's track record could hunt down the Heralds. And it maybe should be little surprise he'd infiltrate them and play along to try to get information.

Unfortunately up to and including setting up an Umbaran train incident. To put the business end of a blaster against someone he likely respects and trusts. Someone he could even be quite close with.

Because he promised he'd never let a threat like the Heralds get that deep, that close to destroying what you've built.

Or, if you've been... less kind... Well. Tyr's had a bit of enough of his life being out of his own hands. Still, it's a lot of deaths on the line. A lot of lives.

Either way, the Heralds have to be stopped.

Infiltration. Assassination. Manipulation. All specialties of your ex-Cipher. Is it really any wonder he'd go so far? A doubt he's not above planting himself. For the sake of the cover. For the sake of keeping enough of Atrius's faith in his commitment and ability to follow through to figure out what he needs to gain the Alliance an edge it desperately needs.

And that is all interesting enough, I'd say! But no, I couldn't ever be that nice to him. I have to go and make sure Shara Jenn's involved regardless of him not being the main character! Because frankly Shara's reappearance on Nathema could ALSO probably be its own post and Tyr to this day STILL hasn't unraveled for me how he feels about it (his argument is that she already said there's nothing for them to discuss. And he can do many things; raise the dead and make amends with them is not among them). So her with a Tyr that's actually working for the Alliance within the Heralds is EXTRA chewy and interesting!

Because I like to believe she still remembers enough about how he works. Still remembers the younger Cipher Nine that stood against Darth Jadus, with no backup available and only her in his ear for advice, and argued with her that the human cost of the Eradicators was unacceptable. Her idealistic underneath the pragmatic facade of a well-trained operative Cipher Nine that defied the second most powerful living Sith, likely knowing full well it was likely a futile gamble with his own life.

That Cipher Nine doesn't match the work of the Heralds here. Oh, sure, they talk, they make nice. Maybe even rekindle a bit of those lost nights shared between them on Dromund Kaas nearly a lifetime ago now. But they're both playing a game.

A part of him still loves her - loves the woman he used to know. He may never have been able to fully trust her again after the Castellans - it was hard for him to trust anyone, but it made what he felt for her no less real. Maybe the same parts of her that are suspicious of his working against the Heralds' goals, the same parts that likely drive her to share advice with Atrius that this ex-Cipher she knows can't really be trusted outside of arm's reach... Maybe those same parts of her would like to still trust him.

But it doesn't matter. Imperial Intelligence is still gone. Cipher Nine's an Imperial ghost story. And it's been a long time since she's answered to Keeper of Operations Division.

And it's this... nexus of everything, everything it costs that... Normally, if it had been just any One of these acts in isolation...

If it'd just been the train. If it'd just been putting a blaster bolt through a trusted ally and friend? He likely could live with doing it again.

But all of it? An ultimate accusation from Atrius that he's betrayed everything and everyone he's ever claimed to hold loyalty for?

Imperial Intelligence for the deal with Ardun Kothe. Shara, for the same deal. He turned his back on Sith Intelligence to run off on this 'ghost hunt' with Lana. He's betrayed the Alliance now as well.

And all of that still nearly cost the Alliance everything. It almost didn't work. It nearly kills him. The hope he had for Shara to have made it out of this web of lies and madness that mired Intelligence in its cannibalization is utterly extinguished by her even being involved with the Heralds. He couldn't save her.

Was it worth it..? Was the cost... really worth it? Even in victory? Even though there's an Alliance left to judge his actions?

Little else - perhaps... nothing else he's done or survived has ever... really felt too far. But this would be. This was, he painfully realizes once the act's already finished. When there's nothing left but sparking machinery and the tang of blood on his tongue.

He might not be able to bear to ask for forgiveness, the bitterness of it all is so strong. He couldn't believe he'd deserve it, for what he's done. For what it's cost.

But will you? Could you? Enough to make him live with the guilt and the shame.

And if you could, well... Cipher Nine might finally cede he's been at this perhaps... too long. Another call like that.... It shouldn't have happened in the first place.

And THAT. That!!!!! To find a scenario where someone like Tyr, who... I'd say almost doesn't know how to quit. He doesn't just... give up, on anything. I'm sure a fair few would wish it'd take less to make him consider slowing down, to finally hang up the drive to be something like Atlas, with the weight of everything always upon his shoulders. But... damn, it sure is chewy something finally could. >:3

Tyr Vaiken Deckard, the man that you are etc etc. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[cconfusedkat]

(i just fucking woke from last night in both shame and confusion, just to see that my insane ramblings and many 'a years of rp got made into an actual character what in the god damn f**k- Genuinely, thank you so much and solidarity!... even though i havent really begun my physical transition yet. to the actual ask)

Does Kallamar have a beak? Most, if not all octopuses and squids have beaks, so would our lovely sea dweller have one as well? Writer of Joomer

GIGGLING- I hope that's okay that I drew Joomer in my interpretation DJSNDJDFJWFM!!!! It's so funny that they go years back,,,, if you have any additional information for joomer then i wouldnt mind 100% to draw em again with a ref :-33 (AA AND DW I GET THAT,,, I havent really transitioned physically either,, shaking hands with you again writer of joomer 🤝🤝)

AA YES SHI DOES.... Im not sure if i make it obvious but i try to show it with the little bump on the top of hir mouth- the lil teeth accompany that as well,,, im unsure on how to show his beak any better tbh FSKJWKF But yes he does have one :-D

Sometimes its not very obvious though so thats why i gave them Squid Baby Face™ because 1. Cuteness factor of hir cheeks and 2. Meowmeow (meowmeow is VERY valid reasoning)

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for avenging my brother?

hiiiii ^^ so im (30, let's say M for convenience's sake) am currently the leader of a very big sect, which was Not the plan WhatSoEVER (i'll get into it). i was born as the younger sibling to the sect heir, which meant i had free reign to basically do whatever i wanted while he got the responsibilities and stuff! great deal methinks. our father died when we were both still young due to heart issues that run in the family and also being killed. since my brother had a decade or so on me, he pretty much raised me from then on while also having the new role of official sect leader on his shoulders.

again, seems like a good deal! he was strict, and really really insisted i practiced my fighting skills (like that wasn't the literal cause of our family's heart issues) to the point that one time he like kind of burned my paper fan collection in front of me but that's like it's all besides the point okay he loved me and i loved him and we were both there for each other okay? okay

anyway he had this servant/best friend/pretty sure somethingsomething was going on there. he was kind of like a second big brother to me. our interests overlapped and he also preferred stuff like art and poetry over fighting. he understood me in a way that my brother couldn't, and he helped raise me just as much, even accompanying me to my third year of summer courses. which lol was supposed to be a one year course but i failed twice. lmao w/e

things got... bad. a war broke out, the servant betrayed us by letting a dangerous enemy out of his cell, and he and my brother had a horrible fight that ended in the former's expulsion from our sect. fast forward yadda yadda this isn't so much the part of the story it's just context but basically that turned out to be a plan to get close to the enemy sect leader so he could stab him in the back. which turned out to become a recurring theme.

the servant, now a prominent figure in his own sect, my brother, and one basically-a-celeb from another sect became this big trio (and totally a Thing) because of the role they played in ending the war. servant-now-big-boy (let's go with snbb for convenience) used that position to send my brother into a cardiac arrest by playing a melody that was supposed to soothe him differently.

so now i was alone, and with one of the current biggest sects to lead, while all i wanted to do is look cute, paint and be bisexual. you can probably imagine how i felt when i learned who did it, especially considering how not only no one else knew, but he got /rewarded/ for it by becoming a sect leader himself. soooo i got a little silly and here's where i mighttttt be tah :3

basically i started a 10+ years revenge plan. i didn't really plan a /lot/ of it, but i knew i'd have to resurrect one of my childhood friends for it to grab attention away from me etc and such and so on and so forth. but basically i also got a gay and socially rejected teenager killed for that, desecrated the corpse of snbb's mother, paid some people to spread rumours here and there, possibly killed a few cats to lure a group of people where i needed them to be, and adopted a public persona of a useless idiot who couldn't run a sect for the life of me to keep suspsicions off of me for the duration of this, which was Also a part to get back at him because that meant he, as someone responsible and sooo niceys and oh won't you please help your poor little meowmeow with the big scary emails plssss (he basically ran the sect for me lol).

to top it all off i had him killed by the one person that loved him the most (mister sir basically-a-celeb. god his jawline is stronger than my will to live) (he has gone into seclusion and is isolating himself indefinitely to mourn)

but also all this allowed my old bestie to get gay married with his longtime heartthrob

so. aita?

[baejax-the-great]

I've read quite a few of your Hades fics by now and I have to say that you write longing like no one else I've read, published or otherwise. The characters are never quite unhappy, per se (at least not directly), but there's this almost simmering unfulfillment that drives their every action, especially the Achilles/Patroclus ones.

That's probably why I like them so much. It's excellent usage of dramatic irony and it creates this wry atmosphere, even when the subject matter is super serious and emotional.

My favorite has to be the scene from Sunset In Your Veins where Achilles wades out into the bay calling for obsolete remnants of his past life, because that's all he knows how to do. I usually don't like modern AUs that much for various reasons, but that was absolutely a perfect use of a modern AU premise and themes, and the characterization/interpretation of Achilles from both Supergiant and you lends itself perfectly too. That scene pops up in my head sometimes at random moments; I even tried to make some fanart for it once, but felt I couldn't do it justice.

Good luck with Water in the Dawn. I've been enjoying it immensely; every time I see a new notification in my inbox I prepare myself for a delicious serving of Pat angst.

Thank you! This was such a nice message to wake up to =)

"Simmering unfulfillment" is such a good phrase, and I do think it describes a lot of the human condition. It's in our nature to keep striving for... something. Hopefully we will all go through periods of profound satisfaction, but we are curious and inquisitive by nature, and I think that lends itself to wanting "more," whatever that means for us.

Lake Michigan is so beautiful. I like to think Achilles improved his relationship with it after that miserable day. Maybe he's one of those guys that goes swimming every day in the summer. Maybe he makes friends with the naiads. Maybe Thetis learns of the routes to get to Lake Michigan from the Atlantic. Maybe she could help us with our mussel problem.

Supergiant Achilles is so interesting to me. His whole thing is being washed up, old, and regretful, and of course for canon Achilles being young is like his whole thing. Then again, it's completely in keeping with reality for 26yos to talk about how old they feel, and I think Pat's death probably aged Achilles ten years.

Regardless, Supergiant turned Achilles into the ultimate burnt out gifted kid and Patroclus into the saddest, wettest, yet somehow still sarcastic little meowmeow, and I have enjoyed playing with that in my fics.

[pochapal]

the last month or so has just been:

pochapal: oh boy kanon is my special little meowmeow hope nothing happens to him

pochapal: well we just had a murder so i'm sure we'll get a few chapters of low-tension downtime

the always sunny title card in all our heads:

LITERALLY it's so nasty because i just finally stopped accusing kanon of being the culprit!! like i just at last understood that he's genuinely innocent and probably did nothing wrong and then not even the next chapter this happens!!!!!!

[coralcatsea]

Random thoughts regarding different fandoms:

(I've seen/read these, I just don't engage with the fandoms that much. These are just thoughts based on what I have seen of the fandoms.).

Death Note: Endless memes. Constant poking fun at all the overthinking going on. Putting these dramatic characters in goofy scenes about cake and friendship. The jokes never get old for me. I don't see much discourse, maybe an occasional conversation about whether or not Kira was right. 😆

ATLA: Zuko getting teased. Kataang and Zutara battling it out while Zukka laughs and slowly rises higher, taking more and more people as it goes. I'm not that interested in the ships, but Sokka ships are the best. NATLA wins the "not as bad as you could've been award" and "the effects were decent". Lots of fun analysation.

Percy Jackson: I feel Nico is a fan favourite. The main discourse I've seen for the fandom as a whole is whether or not Annabeth treats Percy well and whether or not Piper is annoying. A lot of people compare Percy Jackson and Harry Potter (the characters), and those who have read both seem to agree Percy is better. Like ATLA, there's a new live-action series that is a mixed bag, but much better than the old, horrible live-action movie (and sequel) in the past.

Zelda: DOWN WITH KOROKS vs STOP KOROK ABUSE. Everyone loves Sidon senpai. Glory to Master KOHGA. Most of the stuff I see right now is BotW/TotK related, but there's still some good stuff for other games, as well as the AUs people do with different Links meeting. Midna is the best sidekick.

Hazbin Hotel: I'm wary since there's LOOOOTS of discourse in this one. The fans can be pretty funny, though. I love the song edits and that there's a whole ship tag for Vox's unrequited obsession with Alastor. I also like watching people analyse the characters and writing.

Helluva Boss: Well...I once again like watching people discuss the writing. But I am hesitant to engage with any fans because I have a weird relationship with this show and don't think I really qualify as a fan. 😅 I watch it because it's so bizarre to me I can't look away. One time I gave characters different colour schemes for fun, and I got a bunch of annoyed asks from someone taking it too seriously. 😆

She-Ra: Catra Applesauce Meowmeow is a poor little meowmeow. Cat. I like the cat memes. I also love the comparisons between Scorpia and Kronk. Entrapdak is probably one of the better ships, yet has haters for some reason. The accusations have the same vibes as Beauty and the Beast accusations.

Owl House: Tons of Lumity. Personally, I'm more invested in Eda and her relationships with the other characters. Belos and Hunter get compared to Ozai and Zuko. Hunter is very popular. Everyone side eyes Disney for what they did. HOOTY SUPREMACY HOOT HOOT.

Miraculous: The Adrien vs Marinette discourse makes my brain hurt, but I'm glad we all pretty much agree Astruc does everyone dirty. Canon? What's canon? Usually I like and try to follow canon. Not here. Who tries to follow canon in Miraculous? The fans write the show better than he does. Love all the fan comics I see for this show. Chloe could've been more interesting. We all make fun of Smooth-Brain Gabe. We came for the Love Square and then started to hate it. Then Emonette and Emodrien came and reignited our interest.

[annieqattheperipheral]

Translation of tnt panel:

Dermy's in to protect cale because he's our cutest little meowmeow

[toxicanonymity]

corey being little meow meow

+fluffing his hair

amusement park date with our sweet little meowmeow

Imagine you and Corey go to a theme park as one of your first dates. He's enthusiastic about the amusements, which is adorable, but you know he would be just as excited to be anywhere else, as long as he’s with you.  He’s made that much clear. 

Each time you greet each other he’s  smiling shyly and adjusting his glasses but his eyes are absolutely beaming.  At the beginning of each date, you’ve both been nervously excited.  Without fail, you’re both cozy and giddy by the time you say goodbye.  At this point, the excited nerves still return after not seeing each other for a few days. 

You ride the most intense roller coaster, and he's screaming and laughing the whole time and instinctually grabs your hand for the first time. As the cart slows to a stop his hair is even fluffier than before.  He looks at your hands clasped together and blushes shyly.  Your hand is so much smaller than his. You interlace your fingers so he  can know his affection is reciprocated. 

When you get off the coaster, he's a little dizzy and slightly stumbles into you.  You steady him and walk him to a bench.  He rests his head on your shoulder and you hold him as he regains his balance.  He nuzzles his hair and nose and wraps his massive arms around you.  You trace his large, sculpted knuckles.

You sit on the bench much longer than necessary, until the sun is setting.  You talk about dreams, family, goals, and share long moments of silence.  You feel so warm inside even though your body is chilly.  He notices you’re cold and takes off his large trucker jacket and gives it to you.  You can see his bulky arms even better now through his henley. The top buttons separate slightly from the broadness of his chest.

You go to the Haunted Mansion ride, which winds through a dimly lit indoor canal.  He leans his curly head against yours, and you softly kiss him on the cheek in the dark. There's a sparkle in his eyes, even behind his glasses, even in the dark.  

The exit of the ride is approaching, and before the moment is gone, he kisses you on the lips softly and sweetly.  You cup his strong jaw in your hand, then softly thumb his plush cheek as you kiss him back.  When you pull away, the light is creeping in from outside and you can see he’s blushing like mad.  You kiss his cheek again and fluff his hair.  He blushes more and silently giggles. He smiles widely and rests his temple against yours.  

For the rest of the date, you can’t keep your eyes off each other, and you melt when he blushes.  You also can't keep your hands off each other -- in the cozy and cuddly way, that is. It's pretty innocent for now, but deep down, you can feel the heat turning up. You try to enjoy the purity of this time, because you know it won’t last for long, but you’re even more excited for what comes next.  

----------

more corey

want to wash and dry his hair? (18+) here

[succulent-mud]

can you tell us how meowmeow sweetheart Ken Kaneki get banned from a gym ? :) very curious on his gym-banishment

ACCUSED, our little meow meow kitty sweetheart strawberry homophobic eyes got banned because he was accused.

Now, I have it because it's tunny, Kaneki is like that oc you make, look at it and say "Mmm yes, need character development" and make him suffer in every aspect of his life (poor meow meow :[, give him some rest).

This would happen when Kaneki had a very, VERY bad day. He is stressed and with a huge feeling of weight on his shoulders (bad), you are free to think about anything that could have annoyed him to astronomical levels (in my case is that they beated him up, a person escaped and has no money to pay for his apartment, just is stressed in general like, come on).

Let's say that, trying to get rid of that feeling, he decides going to the gym (which he's about to pay because haha, no money) and it's pretty quiet place.

Being stressed, angry and moody makes you a little distracted.

Have you seen when someone breaks something and leaves it almost good so when someone else uses it finally breaks? Well they did something similar to him.

They broke a machine, managed to left it "fixed" and when Kaneki used it he ended up fucking it entirely.

His face when they told him to leave and never come back:

[venerated3zun]

i love binghe but the one thing i've managed to do is -not- have a guy cry on our first date and i know for certain he would break that streak

oh absolutely you KNOW he would be sobbing for some reason or another by the end of it. i love binghe too but only shen yuan could put up with dating him because he's sy's little meowmeow so he'll put up with all that

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

KAHDHBSHDBSJSBSJNSKA if only i could write papers for my classes as easily as i can asks for you </3

I’M LIKE GOING OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD RN BECAUSE I’M SENDING THIS ON PHONE SO I MIGHT NOT REMEMBER EVERYTHING BUT I AGREE I AGREE I AGREEEEEEEE GOJO MOST DEFINITELY SAID ‘aishiteru’ (for the nuance 😫😫😫😫) AND I WILL NOT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWERRRRRRR (i watched jjk 0 on my laptop and when i tell you the amount of times i rewatched that specific scene to see if i could make out what he said……… 💀💀💀💀💀 I COULD SEE THE AISHITERU I WATCHED IT SO MUCH)

geto’s “at least curse me a little at the end” to gojo’s “love is the most twisted curse of all”

LIKEEEE JABSJSBHDBSJSBSN

“see you later” (this one wouldn’t age well 💀) was one i was telling one of my other friends because she was like what if it’s not ily and i was like 1) be quiet but 2) IMAGINE he said it thinking he’d see him again in some sort of afterlife or another universe and he sees him again as a shell for another being THE ANGUISH THE DESPAIR HE WAS STOLEN FROM HIM NOT ONCE BUT TWICEEEEEE

“my six eyes tell me that you’re geto suguru but my soul knows otherwise” I AM SO NORMALLLLLLLLLL ABOUT THEM OH MY GODDDDDDD biting my fist and banging my head

anyways :3

NANAMI’S BLACK FLASHES WERE SO COLD OH MY GOD AND I MIGHT BE WRONG BUT DOESNT HE SAY LEAVE IT TO ME IN JJK 0 to his i’ll leave it to you (you’ve got it from here) in shibuya arc </3 I HATEEEEEEE AIDHJSBDJSNDN (i love)

AND YOU LOVED I LOVE YOO OMG ARI I LOVE YOO WAS SO AJDHJSNDJSJ THAT WAS MY LIFEEEEE kissing the ground you walk on IM SO AJSHJSBDJSNDJ YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDDDD

AND AND YOU MIGHTVE SEEN OPERATION: TRUE LOVE AROUND the mmc’s are sooooooooo :3 they’re so yummy looking IF I WERE SUA (fmc’s name) I WOULD WANT THEM BOTH I COULD NOT PICK

OH YEAH AND LOWKEY I DO SEE YOU LIKING DOKJA MORE HAHHAHAHAHHAA HES JUST SO SHDHJSNS HES JUST GOOD LIKE THAT IM NGL TO YOU

OH AND i am picking the manga back up for you i swear ITS OKAY I DONT NEED MY HEART AND SANITY ANYWAYS (thinking about the leaks…….)

AND AND AND WHO IS YOUR HSR TEAM IF YOU DONT MIND ME ASKING :00000 (and ty ;-; every time i get a quest out of the way a new one pops up and i’m just like LET ME LEVEL MY BOOTHILL UP PLEASEEEEEE)

AND AND AAANNNDDDDD i saw that you wanted to start bnha :3 ANYTHING I TRY TO SAY TO COMFORT YOU MIGHT MAKE IT SOUND WORSE BUT IMAGINE ALL THE DABI THOUGHTS YOU COULD HAVE yummy yummy dabi thoughts PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEE omg abdhsbsnns

okay let me shut up now

EAT LOTS OF YUMMY FOOD AND DRINK LOTS OF WATER AND TAKE AS MUCH REST AS YOU NEEEEDDDDDD much love to you <333333

MY DEAREST KOI 🥹🥹🥹 forgive this late response i’m going through my inbox ask by ask….

I HOPE YOUR CLASSES ARE GOING WELL 🙏… assuming you aren’t on summer break……. i soooo get that 😔😔😔 i wish i had as much motivation to do my assignments as i have when it comes to. writing abt hot men LMAO

BUT YES HE 100% SAID AISHITERUUUU I REFUSE TO BELIEVE ANYTHING ELSE. it’s funny that you mention the ”see you later” because it’s actually kinda true!! the lyrics to ao no sumika + the jjk 0 light novel together highly imply that gojo wanted to say ”we’ll meet again, won’t we?” but chose not to because he knew it’d become a curse :’3 (ironic since he still ended up cursing suguru into seeing him again by not properly disposing of his corpse…… ow ow ow.) ANDDD THE SEALING SCENE!!!! SO GOOD!!!!!! they did it sm justice in the anime…

NANAMI’S BLACK FLASHES 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 the way he ate his 30 seconds of screen time….. AND WAHH YOU’RE RIGHT I HADN’T NOTICED THAT BEFORE. our beloved working man :(((((((

I WAS SOOOO OBSESSED WITH I LOVE YOO KOI 😭😭😭😭😭 i loved ….. the ginger……… he was so good………… THE OPERATION TRUE LOVE MLS DO LOOK TASTY . and dokja…… his soggy meowmeow vibes have captivated me <33333

MY HSR TEAM IS THIS :3333333

….. aka. three parental figures and the shady uncle……….. lmao. i love them!!!!!!!! :3

i started playing a while ago but took a lot of breaks so…. i’m still very early in the game :’3 i feel like i missed so many cool characters while i was gone…. i love himiko but . i’m not super fond of her playstyle so i think i’ll switch her out for someone else!!!! i’m having trouble choosing between huohuo and jiaoqui :< i’d like them both but….. i only have a single ten pull saved up………..

WHAT ABT YOU KOIIIII what’s your team???? :333

AND PLEASEEEE NOT THE DABI BAIT 😭😭😭 yeahhhh……. the manga finally ended so i might. pick it back up. or maybe just the anime…. YOU WILL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW 🙏🙏 i fear aridabi will be real whether i like it or not…….

ILY KOI <333333 make sure to take care of yourself too!!!! drink water and eat tasty food!!!!!!! :333

[reocidal]

02. the much awaited cat adoption episode

"y/n, you look weird," osamu tells you as you step into his apartment. "what are you hiding?"

"nothing!" you reply a little too quickly.

"meow," says your jacket. "meow."

"what the fuck." atsumu props himself up onto his elbows, peering up at you from where he's sprawled out on kuroo's couch, suna fast asleep beside him. "is that a cat?"

you nod sheepishly, unzipping your jacket to reveal a black cat, not fully grown, but not a kitten either. "he was outside, all alone. i'll take him home."

atsumu grabs it from you immediately, cooing and making stupid kissy faces at it. "what's its name?"

"his name hasn't been decided yet," you say, plopping down in atsumu's recently vacated seat. "mm, it's still warm here, thanks, tsumu."

atsumu scowls. "you're welcome, you little fu—"

osamu gives him a Look from where he's setting the table for dinner, and he twists his face into an uugly smile. "you little sister of mine, who i love very much."

osamu snickers, and you take the chance to discreetly sneak a glance at suna, who looks like he's melted into the cushions, still passed out. he looks pretty like this, all relaxed without the usual stupid deadpan look on his face. but you must have stared for a moment too long, because when you look away, the younger twin flashes you a knowing smile.

atsumu doesn't notice the silent exchange as he lifts the cat up into the air. "what should we name him?"

osamu examines the cat over his twin's shoulder before he sits down beside you, lightly squeezing you into his side. "dunno, but i like his eyes. hi, baby sister."

"hi, 'samu. you're just a year older than me," you say with a roll of your eyes. but you still can't hold back the fond smile that crosses your face.

"oh!" atsumu yelps, almost dropping the cat. "his eyes!"

"what about them?" you ask, confused.

"they're that weird shade of green, like sunarin! we should name him..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "we should name him sunarin junior!"

osamu groans, but he doesn't disagree, and as for you— "sure!"

"sunarin, wake up!" yells your brother, poking him harshly with a toe.

"whahuh?" he jerks awake, opening one eye groggily — atsumu is right, their eyes are eerily similar — before abruptly kicking atsumu, hard. "atsumu, what the fuck?"

"look, sunarin junior."

"huh?"

"we named him after you!"

"oh!" suna sits up. it's like he's fallen in love with the tiny creature, eyes widening as he zeroes in on it. "holy shit, he's my son now."

"what?" you ask.

"he's my son, give him to me."

"since when is he your son?"

"he has my name, so i get to have some parental rights, right?"

"well yeah, that's valid, but he's my son, not yours! i was the one who rescued him," you argue. the cat meows halfheartedly in your brother's arms.

"he's our son, how about that?" he says it carelessly, but a dizzying rush of... something rushes through you, and butterflies rise up in your stomach. you ignore the sidelong glance osamu throws your way, and cross your arms. "what the heck?

"give him to me," he repeats.

"pay child support first, at least," you say with a snicker, although it dies down pretty fast when to your surprise, rintarou suna digs through the pocket of his shorts before chucking a handful of candy at your face.

"there, now give him to me."

series masterlist

authors note(s) !!

smau is sav's now like i love her sm [does it show that im not close to a lot of ppl on here. tbh im such a loser (/pos) that id be the same even if i had like a ton of close friends i think]

anyways, they adopt meowmeow <3

mom and dad ahuygiadhsuijk screams loudly.

i loved writing the sibling dynamics like. yeah.

me n my siblings arent the closest?? but like my brother and i stay up yapping ab jjk and my little sister and i do art shit together and my older sister crochets me cute shit and shows her affection by touching her leg with mine when we sleep at night or putting our pillows closer together and like sahsgajksdhjdsa i love my siblings basically

stress solving rubiks cubes then im suddenly being competitive f2l cfop kys

if u want fun in ur life follow . for funnies (this is a joke, thats my alt)

kenma is me i am him

COMMENT TELL ME HOW U FEEL

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likes n rbs r appreciated <3 thank you !

© iiwaijime 2024

[into-the-center-of-things]

day four: first full day in chicago!!!

July 19th 2024

"seven year shriek splits

the avenue into two—

of silence, then song"

I was not really taking notes but I hope my pictures are cool enough to make up for that lack. I felt kind or under the weather all day as well—a bit weak and headachey, so I am hoping it is just residuals from the train ride and not a sign I am coming down with something...

Anyways, I slept for like 10 hours straight, I woke up at like 9:45am or so, which was more than I thought I would, and once we got Ventra set up to use the bus (I also had to set up Google Wallet, a feature on my phone I have never used until now—weirdly feels a lot safer than me carrying all my cards with me at once...might switch everything to Google Wallet once I get home!) we took transit to Doma Cafe off New Orleans Street. I ordered a cup of butternut squash soup and a flat white (because I was groggy and buzzy with no caffeine in my system).

The soup was probably the best fucking butternut squash I've ever had in my life! The coffee was OK, but I liked the presentation of it in a little glass cup. Once we fueled up @germfreeadulthood took us to the Poetry Foundation building, which was the place I was the most excited to see. On our way there we encountered a lady with a cat in a stroller who had the prettiest green eyes! His name was Louie and he kept meowmeowing and it was very cute.

Once we walked in we masked up and signed in. The library was on the right, but first they had an exhibit at the front with poems signed and printed on nice paper—immediately recognized Louise Glück and took time to scan the wall for other names I knew (which there were, like Kevin Young and Arielle Greenberg, among others).

So that was really cool to see. We spent a few hours browsing, I was really stunned by how many poetry collections they had, both old and new—they also had lit mags, subscriptions, anthologies, criticisms, and translations and a bajillion Emily Dickinson books.

I was able to sit down and flip through Franny Choi's debut collection as well as some H.D. work (which ironically included a poem about how much she hated the city, which I included below).

I was also able to get some free material! They had a bunch of copies of previous editions of Poetry from different months and years and they said they were all free and I said "wait you're serious they're free??" and at the front desk they were like "yeah they're all free" and I was like "whoa!!" and they kind of laughed but whatever, I got two things that looked cool.

Overall it was a really cool experience. Clearly I had too many pictures to share so I'm gonna make another post for part 2.

[transpunkhell]

bored, sick, and kinda drunk so lemme tell u about the hole in my heart that this stranger things screenshot reopened

luv my little meowmeows. unfortunately my focus was elsewhere this time. that rainbow apple poster so suspiciously juxtaposed with the queer kids (credit to @kaypeace21 for pointing this out in 2019) reminded me to do some specific annual researching.

not to be a design nerd, but who designed the apple logo? if you look it up, the overwhelming answer seems to be rob janoff. the job of designing the logo belonged to the firm janoff worked for, however, and the more-accurate answer was that at least two other artists contributed to the final design (to which I say, how many artists does it need to take to draw an apple?)

one of the typically-unmentioned designers is carlos peréz david; he's responsible for sketching the logo, and there's a neat article and interview with him here.

the other artist, and the primary subject of my research, is tom kamifuji. hopefully it's possible to tell from his other works which part of the design he was responsible for:

kamifuji passed away in 2015, and his legacy remains obscure and mysterious. there's blog posts and twitter posts compiling his work for videogame cartridges and corporate stuff, but nothing like interviews or whatever to go off of.

anyways I guess I'm so caught up on an old apple logo popping up on my comfort show because of my personal relationship with the artist. tom is my grand-uncle; I never got to meet him, but his influence was there.

as a kid I remember his prints being up on the walls; not just in my home, but in the homes of most of my family members. the influence of japanese artforms in his work, persistent even beyond the experience of internment, didn't strike me as particularly interesting as a child. it was just the same print on the wall that I saw in the houses of all of my extended family.

by the time tom passed away, I was 14 and dealing with typical teenager bullshit. i wasn't really concerned with keeping in touch with my family members. any chance I had to ask him about his life, his work, whatever, was pretty much gone, and I regret to say that I didn't recognize the opportunity I lost at that time.

but not all is lost; tom's wife, momo, lives! my sister got in touch with her last year to discuss experiences with internment and questions about our lineage. i think if anyone would know about tom's experiences within his career, it would hopefully be her. more than that, though, i think it's time for me to thoroughly meet the kamifujis. I think I've spent so much time being nervous to interact with my extended family, but culture and heritage mean so much to me as an individual. hopefully I can find some answers and community in all of this.

so yeah, a byler screenshot reminded me to check in on my family, and to appreciate the steps my ancestors took to bring me, a silly little queer guy, to this moment. I might be mentally ill