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#but i have to think about it more. and find out if my mother will actually let me lol
cazshmere · 1 day
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Astrology Observations Pt. 8 🦂
materialist🔖
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DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🦂
🦂 I think people who have their chiron in the 3rd/7th or 11th house may experience significant insecurity about posting on social media and being in front of a camera, or even commenting under various posts online. They often overthink the things they put out online/the things they were going to post online 😭 and also if they post pictures/videos they might rewatch the picture/video 984726261 times and often find a SOME tiny fault and convince themselves to delete whatever it is that they have posted. This placement can create a deep-seated fear of judgment and a tendency to second-guess every public interaction
🦂I have noticed that scorpio moons and capricorn moons have very involved and critical mothers/parents, exhibiting behaviors typical of helicopter parenting. For instance they could micromanage every single thing you do or have some sort of comment to make about every little thing you do (also applicable to aries and virgo moons). I also feel that cappy and scorpio moons may find it the hardest to detach from their generational trauma because their parents may have instilled strict principles/beliefs into them and they end up carrying forward all these beliefs which in return makes them more susceptible to repeating toxic patterns which then ends up causing A LOT of trauma to these individuals ❤️‍🩹
🦂 honestly taurus placements aren’t always mindful and demure, despite being ruled by venus. Most taurus placements (esp sun,moon and mars) are NOT afraid to call people out on their bs and are extremely straightforward and direct. The type to insult you straight to your face if you annoy them or smtg 😭 and you’d be like ouch, what was the reason for that??💀. They can come across as arrogant and rude sometimes BUT this all makes a lot of sense as a lot of them tend to be sidereal aries placements after all🙏😂
🦂 speaking of sidereal placements I wanna talk about how virgos can be super playful and child-like (esp with the people they are comfortable with) because they’re leo placements in sidereal + virgo placements also really crave attention, sometimes way more than Leo’s tbh✨
🦂 aries and scorp moon/venus women often attract guys who initially start off as wanting to be/being their “friends” BUT the only reason they wanted to be their friend in the first place is because they see potential for a romantic/sexual relationship with them. It’s sad because literally every guy friend you have/had TOTALLY had other intentions that weren’t platonic 🥲
🦂 having placements in the 2nd house (esp if there are no harsh aspects) just mellows down the intensity of the placement. For instance moon in the 2nd house people can regulate their emotions much more stable and easy manner. Having placements in the 2nd house is such a BLESSING.
🦂 if you think you know someone with a scorpio moon, moon in the 8th house or moon-pluto native, trust me you DON’T😭. no one will ever KNOW every single part of them. They remind me of onions yk? SO MANY LAYERS to them and no one will ever truly know everything about them
🦂 also idk if I’ve mentioned this before but CAN WE JUST TAKE A MINUTE TO APPRECIATE HOW FUCKING FUNNY/HUMOROUS CANCER PLACEMENTS ARE???? literally SO SO witty and make you laugh till your stomach hurts😭🫶🏻
🦂 with age, saturn in cancer natives can look a lot like their mothers 💗
🦂 shadow traits are often expressed through the moon and mars, as these planets govern our raw emotions and drives. For example, an aries moon’s may react with impulsive outbursts and frustration, while a scorpio mars might exhibit controlling, obsessive, or manipulative behaviors to maintain power. These primal reactions tend to surface under stress or vulnerability. To work on your shadow self, it's helpful to focus on your Moon and Mars placements, as these often reveal where you're repeating or expressing toxic behaviors. By understanding how these signs influence your emotional reactions and drive, you can better recognize and address patterns that need healing.
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banner/pic credits to the rightful owners
© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]
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starryhyuck · 2 days
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can’t get you out of my mind. (m) — PREVIEW
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pairing: alpha!jaehyun x afab!omega!reader
words: 16.2k+
summary: the ceremony to choose your alpha mate has arrived.
genre: fluff, angst, smut
warnings: outdated gender roles/stereotypes, some women hating women dynamics (that resolves in the end), mentions of war, mentions of loss during childbirth, disapproval of in-laws, possessive!jaehyun, pregnancy, breeding kink, tiny bit of face riding, bigdick!jaehyun, squirting, knotting, nonstop fucking between jaehyun and reader, public sex, mating
release date: october 24, 2024
this fic is already released for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!
“You silly omegas.”
You jump nearly three feet in the air, gasping and holding your hand to your chest. You swivel around to see Jaehyun standing behind you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in amusement.
“A-Alpha Jeong,” you stutter, bowing your head. “I apologize, I wasn’t aware-“
“You omegas are always starving yourselves in front of us. When are you going to realize alphas are never settled when our omegas aren’t taken care of?” He questions, stepping beside you and taking out the leftover steak in the fridge.
You keep your eyes planted to the ground as he moves around you, heating up the meal on the stove.
“Alpha Jeong, you don’t have to-“
“Just call me Jaehyun,” he interrupts gruffly. “Alpha Jeong this, Alpha Kim that- all the rules get so tedious.”
You flush in embarrassment. “We shouldn’t be alone together without an elder present.”
“Another rule,” he sighs, using two fingers to lift your chin up. You meet his gaze head on. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
You swallow, blinking slowly at him. Being this close to an alpha while unmated is against all commands of the elders and betrays every ounce of your omega training, but you nod and say, “Okay.”
“Besides, the elders sleep like they’re dead anyways,” he says with familiarity, which makes you realize that Jaehyun’s grown up around all the elders who have accompanied you to the ceremony because he’s next in line to become head alpha. He steps back from you and resumes cooking at the stove. “So,” he starts, humming. “The Handbook for Dressmaking is a riveting thriller, isn’t it?” He asks you with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.
“Oh,” you mumble, wringing your hands nervously. “Yes, I believe it was the top book for the omegas in our district.”
He chuckles. “What’s your actual favorite book? Be honest.” He takes out a cutting board and slowly starts peeling the skin of one of the apples on the counter.
“Um- t-that is my favorite book, Alpha-“ you stop and clear your throat, correcting yourself. “Jaehyun.”
“You omegas,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Always lying, trying to say what you think is the right thing. I don’t want to hear the dictation from your mother’s handbook. I want to hear your real opinion.”
Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. You’ve never told another being about straying away from the traditional omega values. Jaehyun looks at you with an impatient expression, however, and you can’t bring yourself to lie to the next head alpha.
“History retellings about the war are my favorite,” you confess in a gentle voice. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “They provide me with a picture of what we needed to do to succeed as the dominant species.”
It’s not ladylike in the slightest to assimilate oneself to such acts of violence, and you’re certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to ward Jaehyun far from you. Instead, he smiles.
“That’s a new one,” he laughs. “And the children? As many as the moon grants you?”
It’s no secret that after the war, many omegas don’t find it as easy to give birth as they used to. The lingering chemicals and difficult winters led to harsher environments for omegas to successfully carry a pup to term. Nowadays, omegas who strive for more than four children sign their own death sentence. Regardless of the staggering data, the elders teach all omegas that they must give birth to as many pups as the moon will grant them.
“Two,” you whisper, shifting your stare from him and towards the wall. “Just two would satisfy me.”
He hums again, but makes no effort to scold you for your admission. You expect the son of the head alpha to be more strict on the nation’s laws surrounding omega submission, but Jaehyun breaks out of the mold you initially assumed of him.
He slides a warm plate on the counter, filled with the delicious food you resisted eating hours ago.
“Eat well, omega. I thank you for your honesty.”
When he exits the kitchen, your mind reels over the thought that not all alphas are as bad as you believed them to be.
want to read the rest of this fic now? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!
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wlwmedarda · 2 days
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I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.
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Sevika:
Mel:
Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️.
Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!
Ekko:
This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?
Ambessa:
Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.
Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.
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nshmuras · 3 days
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YOU DONT TALK MUCH? ~ sjy
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sypnosis : jake was the heartthrob of decelis academy. as usual, he would find girls to swoon and break every month. but what happens when his friends challenge him to break you? the quiet girl who never speaks to anyone.
genre : fluff, angst, smut.
features : hyung line of enha.
pair : popular boy jake x quiet girl reader
chapter(s) - ONE 2 3 4 5 -> 000.
buns notes : if you see a mistake its because i pre wrote this way before it even was posted yesterday 😭 ignore them please !
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Sim jaeyun wasn't a good guy. not like anyone didn't know that.
most people assumed he was a mamas boy or was insanely clingy due to his natural radiant glow.
Well everyone is wrong.
Jaeyun, also known as jake, didn't live with his mom anymore since he wouldn't get his way and decided to move out by the help of his father he rarely sees ever.
But atleast he's successful, his mom rather have a annoying ball of success than a annoying son with a even more annoying lack of future.
Sometimes thinking about leaving his mother and stressing her out with his defiance makes a tiny pang of guilt come but he pushes it down, why wouldn't he?
Now he has a thing he does. he has a list full of the cutest and hottest girls at Decelis university that he deems fit to be a pawn at his game.
It's called the "target list" and whoever is on there will leave with a broken heart and more.
He tells these girls that he loves them! they believe it with a bat of their eyelashes and a spread of pink dusting their cheeks.
Stupid.
Now enough of that, lets move on.
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-
-
Today, the lunch room was bustling with movement and chatter as the students of Decelis university gathered in the area to eagerly fill their stomachs before having a long lecture with their professors.
Obviously, the basketball team sat at a big table with jokes and conversation about girls.
Heeseung, jay, and sunghoon are jakes buddies. Following behind him as always to practice or anywhere else
The topic was random before the oldest, heeseung, spoke up. "Yo jakeu, when you finding your next toy?" He teased, which jake scoffed but also snickered.
"Soon, haven't found anyone to place on my list yet." Jake inquired as he dug into his bag , pulling out a slightly crinkled paper before placing it on the table.
"I had Kori , maya , mina but their all last weeks targets i already crossed off." He huffed and leaned back in his chair.
Then, jay took the paper and scanned it before leaning over to whisper something to the other male, sunghoon.
Sunghoon hummed and nodded, jotting down something before shuffling it back to jake.
Jake quirked a brow and read down. "L/N Y/N..." He muttered as he looked up "Who the fuck is that?"
They all snickered before heeseung answered. "That girl over there. Shes from class 4 and seemingly has a crush on you."
Jake almost snorted and immediately rejected the idea before jay cut him off. "She's quiet, doesn't speak alot and seems like she could be easy to fool."
Jakes original frown then curled into a smirk. "Well, this will be fun."
.
.
.
After lunch ended everyone was now in their professors classrooms, except jake.
He strolled the halls until he reached the library.
Does he like to read? No.
But that's not why he's there... he's there for you.
When he scanned the area his eyes landed on a girl who was buried into a book and basically assumed it had to be you.
He strutted over to you confidently and took a seat beside you, in which you looked up.
"Hey, saw you were reading something and got curious." He smiled charmingly and expected a immediate blush but you remained calmed and nodded.
"Uhh.. what is the book called?" He asked, feeling awkward. he never has felt awkward talking to a girl.
You shifted the book to show him the front cover before returning it to your own eyes to continue reading.
"Hm.. nice." He said a bit quietly as he watches you. "Say.. you should talk. its not attractive if you keep quiet." He teased, it was a bit of a jab but suprisingly, you stood up and took your stuff with you before walking out the library.
"What the.." Jake trailed off in confusion before it turned into frustration.
Who dare turn away from Sim jaeyun like that? everyone knew better.
You're definitely not getting off the hook.
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jakes next targets : @faithnsstuff @mitmit01 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @whoa-jo @wonsdoll @elysianiki @mmygnolia @kairoot (send ask to be added.)
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pressplay-if · 2 days
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I saw that the single mum route is the less angsty when it comes to family stuff. Which is lovely. However, it reminded me of something I was thinking the other day. I was trying to figure out what kind of depressive thoughts my MC may have (as I'm still deciding if he'll have depression or social anxiety). And since I always pick the single mother route (I love the idea of MC being the poor friend of the band), I got some ideas.
Basically, I guess my MC would feel a lot of guilt. He knows that his mother is busy with so much work not out of being a workaholic, but by need. Need that is significantly exacerbated by MC's existence. I do imagine a young MC especially feeling guilty and as a burden to their mum, since the poor woman has to raise them and work full time.
This is further increased as the years come by and MC decides to dedicate their lives to a band. A high reward but high risk kind of job. My MC could easily fail to achieve any major success. And then what? It's very easy to feel guilt. Maybe he should have tried to find a more stable job? Something to help his mother so she can lower her workload significantly?
Then again, I am sure my MC's mother would prefer MC to go after his dreams. So, I imagine, MC is also in a weird position where he also would feel guilt if he didn't pursue the music life. Because he is sure his mother would know, and she would feel bad. His mother could easily blame herself that her child is leaving their dream behind. And my MC couldn't bear such idea. So, he is stuck in a weird limbo.
Of course this may be just me overthinking. But it could be some kind of ideas that my MC could fester on his mind as he grows up. Since it's very easy to go from guilt to be burden, to guilt about existing, and then to decide to remove himself from life as that would, in a way, "fix the problem" (which is not true, of course, since suicide doesn't fix things).
Well, I'll stop rambling. This is perhaps a bit of a downer, so I understand if you prefer to ignore it. In any case this basically comes from me thinking a lot about my MC and this IF.
Why would I ignore it I love long asks. Although it does make me think that perhaps (given the current state of the hospitalization interlude) MC may need more options to describe their depressive thoughts. Bc in the interlude, it's all mostly symptom-based, and there's more screentime to MC getting better than MC experiencing the depression. This is partly for the sake of brevity (I'm worried about the interlude getting to long, given it's just another flashback basically, albeit a really important one). But the MC CAN in fact say they felt like a burden to their single mother in a later decision (not chapter 2, it's when they move out).
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inkspiredwriting · 3 days
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A Strand of Silver
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
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Y/n Hargreeves was having one of those mornings. You know the type: spilled coffee, mismatched socks, and the eternal struggle to find her keys. As she rushed into the bathroom to get ready for the day, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Normally, she didn’t scrutinize her reflection too much, but today, something shiny caught her eye.
“Wait, what?” Y/n muttered, leaning closer to the mirror.
There, in the midst of her hair, was a single, unmistakable strand of silver. She plucked it out and held it up to the light, squinting at it as if it were some foreign object.
“Oh, no,” she groaned, her voice tinged with melodrama. “I’m turning into my mother!”
Just as Y/n was contemplating her impending transformation into a full-fledged silver fox, Five Hargreeves walked into the bathroom, his shirt half-tucked and his tie in a state of disarray.
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asked, eyebrow arched in amusement.
Y/n turned to him, holding up the gray hair as if it were evidence of a crime. “Look at this!” she said, her tone a mix of shock and horror. “Gray hair! I’m only 35!”
Five peered at the hair, then back at Y/n, a smirk spreading across his face. “Welcome to the club, darling. Want me to dye mine gray so we can match?”
Y/n glared at him, though her lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “It’s not funny, Five. I thought I had more time before this started happening.”
Five leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Oh, it’s hilarious. You’re acting like this is the end of the world.”
Y/n huffed, tossing the gray hair into the sink. “You’re supposed to be supportive, not laugh at me.”
Five’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “I am supportive. I support the fact that you’re still gorgeous, gray hair and all.”
Their playful banter was interrupted by a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by a muffled “Sorry!” Y/n sighed, recognizing the chaos as her brother-in-law Klaus’s doing.
“Maybe I should just let my hair go completely gray,” she muttered, “and scare the life out of Klaus.”
Five laughed, stepping closer to her. “Klaus would probably think it’s cool and start a new trend.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but laugh, too. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Five wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “Listen, I love you, gray hair and all. Actually, it’s kind of sexy. Makes you look distinguished.”
Y/n snorted, leaning into him. “You’re such a liar.”
“Nope, just a man with great taste,” Five replied, kissing the top of her head.
As they headed into the kitchen to see what chaos awaited them, Y/n tried to push the gray hair out of her mind. It was just one strand, after all. How bad could it be?
Klaus, Luther, and Diego were in the middle of a heated debate over who had the best waffle recipe when Five and Y/n entered the kitchen. Luther was holding a spatula like a weapon, and Klaus was dramatically waving a bottle of syrup around.
“Hey, guys,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. “Do you think gray hair makes me look older?”
The room went silent as all eyes turned to her. Luther looked thoughtful, Diego just shrugged, and Klaus... well, Klaus being Klaus, decided to take it to the next level.
“Oh, honey,” Klaus said, rushing over to examine Y/n’s hair, “I think it makes you look even more fabulous. Very... royal. Like a queen!”
“Like the Queen of England,” Diego added with a smirk, earning a punch on the arm from Luther.
Five burst out laughing, shaking his head. “You see, Y/n? Nothing to worry about. You’ve got the whole royal approval right here.”
Y/n shook her head, trying not to laugh. “I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?”
Later that evening, when the chaos had settled and they were alone again, Five and Y/n found themselves back in the bathroom. Y/n was brushing her teeth, and Five was leaning against the counter, watching her with a soft smile.
“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I used to think that life was all about big moments. Saving the world, traveling through time, stopping apocalypses.”
Y/n looked at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “And now?”
“Now I know it’s about the little things,” Five continued. “Like finding a gray hair and freaking out about it. Or laughing about it with you.”
Y/n rinsed her mouth and turned to face him. “You’re surprisingly sentimental tonight.”
Five shrugged, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “Just thinking about how much I love you. And how that won’t change, no matter how many gray hairs you find.”
Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you, too, Five. Even if you laugh at my gray hair.”
Five chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Deal. Now, how about we find that hair dye, just in case?”
Y/n laughed, swatting his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Guilty as charged,” Five said with a grin. “But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
Y/n smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “No, I wouldn’t. Now, let’s get to bed before Klaus decides to redecorate the kitchen again.”
With that, they headed to their bedroom, their laughter echoing through the house. It had been a day full of surprises and laughter, and as they curled up together, Y/n knew that no matter what the future held, she could face it all with Five by her side
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Right so, I currently feel a very strong urge to cut open my stomach like Chef Hong, but let's put that aside for now and focus on all the new evidence that Peaceful Property is very much gay, actually:
(somehow in light of the end of this episode all of this feels so shallow but well, I got this far, I'm not giving up now)
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Peach is wearing THE shirt. The infamous "more than friends less than lovers" shirt.
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And as is usually the case when this shirt appears, it perfectly describes the current state of Peach and Home's relationship.
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I'm not really attentive enough to analyse colours in these shows, but even I noticed that Home's shirt is pretty blue at the beginning of this episode
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Looks like both of them are (not so) subtly expressing their feelings through their clothes this week
3
We didn't really get confirmation either way about Peach's relationship with Best. Though judging by this little interaction between them, if there was something between them, it was probably initiated by Best. He's full-body reaching more than half-way across the frame, trying to get Peach to fistbump him while Peach only half-heartedly raises his fist towards Best's a little. (I admit I might be somewhat biased against him because of Pangpang, but I almost get the vibe that he kinda tried to get close to Peach to siphon off some of Chef Hong's attention. So he was using him from the beginning, first for his cooking skills then for his exorcism skills. But tbf it might have also just been innocent excitement.)
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Anyway look at Chef Hong frowning at their interaction. She knows this is not the right man for her son favourite student.
4
Home, deepely and sincerely, wants to help Peach.
As soon as he finds out about Peach's trauma his first priority becomes helping him, not selling the property and not exorcising the ghost.
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He even goes all alone to meet the ghost of Chef Hong and asks her to help Peach.
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This is kind of a parallel to the second episode where Home went to confront Rak alone (with Suradech and Kan) after Peach refused to help him anymore. Except this time he actually goes alone and instead of asking the ghost to leave so he can make some more money, he sincerely asks her to help Peach. Character growth. But also. Doing it for the guy he likes. And this is why he gets the mother in law approval and not Best.
But helping someone is not always easy, so:
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This is the face of a man who's desperate to help the person he loves even if that person doesn't think he can be helped. And he's willing to play the bad guy to get him that help.
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It so clearly hurts him to talk to Peach that way but he doesn't know what else to do.
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And Peach is also hurt because he thought that he and Home had gotten close enough that Home would care about his wellbeing more than making money. And he's right, too because Home IS actually doing this FOR his wellbeing and NOT for money. Peach just doesn't know that, yet.
(Quick aside about Peach: Shouting at someone while clutching their shirt. That's 'I love you so please understand me' level of fighting)
Classic tragic romance shit (in preparation for later things to come?). Especially with their next conversation happening through a glass pane. (Star Trek anyone? and many more that I can't think of right now)
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And Home gives him hope. Hope that maybe his mentor didn't kill herself, hat maybe he's not responsible for her death. And with that he gives him the strength to face his fear. Good (not yet) boyfriend.
5
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It's love, your honor!
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He litterally takes over the job of taking care of Peach from Peach's mother figure
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and then holds him while he breaks down. And not only does he hold him, he PULLS HIM IN so Peach can cry into his shoulder.
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And Peach lets himself fall apart in Home's embrace, to let out all of the grief and guilt he had been carrying mixed with the relief of realising it wasn't his fault she died, and she never blamed him for any of it.
(I know I've said it before but man, Tay and New are really blowing this out of the water. They're just so good. Everything about this show is just sooooooo good.)
6
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Is that jealousy I smell, Peach?
Don't worry. Home has already admitted that he's flirting with Kan as a bit not with any real intention. The real is reserved for you.
7
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He fully plans to give it to Peach, doesn't he? Simp.
8
Between all the real talk, raw emotions and vulnerability, they're right back to bickering and teasing each other.
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9
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Now there's a classic BL trope. (And also again a callback to Chef Hong taking care of Peach, making it even more meaningful.)
10
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Its LOVE, your honor!!!
But seriously:
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Peach has fully fallen in love with Home at this point. And how could he not, after Home fully proved his kindness and selflessness and care for Peach this week. Peach had already started to really trust and be comfortable around Home last episode, but with this he's fully brought down Peach's walls. (too bad it's going to end up hurting them both soon)
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And Home knows it, too. Speaking it out while also giving the plausible deniability of a joke. And note how Peach denies on behalf of Kan but not of himself.
They're inching their way towards each other, neither of them willing to say it without beating around the bush but both of them fully aware of what's happening between them. (too bad there's a big storm coming for them that's going to wreck this puppy love bliss)
11
And this, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between and beyond,
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is the face of realisation that you did irreconcilable harm to the man you love and you didn't even know it. That the man you love just said a most sincere and heartfelt "Thank you" to his killer. To you. That all your newfound happieness is about to come crashing down around you and it's all your fault.
Seeing them be happy and flirty in the credit scene hurt. Because how long will they still have this? And either way, any blissful moment from now on is going to feel hollow for Home. And Kan knows, too. Will Pangpang find out before Peach? Will Home get to tell Peach himself or will Peach have to find out from someone else?
Major angst is incoming and honestly? That's pretty gay. Silver lining and all that, I guess.
Anyway I don't want to leave us off at a complete downer so have a quick
Lesbian Corner
The focus was very much on Peach this episode and Kan was mostly off doing her own thing so there's not much but there is this:
Pangpang felt quite betrayed when Kan didn't take her side against Home. She's clearly aware that they should hook team up seeing as the boys are busy with each other.
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Don't worry girl, you'll get there eventually.
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deathvalleyqueen · 20 hours
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listen no matter how convinced in my bones it was Illario that betrayed our beautiful mullet man, it could be someone else. Maybe but really logically think about this. Who within the Crows would gain the most with Lucanis gone? Not emotionally - I am talking about position and power. Illario. Viago and/or Teia potentially but from what we have seen them already through the expanded media - they are so much lower on my suspect list. Honestly, Viago ain't even on it - if he really wants to bruh could become King of Antiva but that's whole different theory I have. Teia could, but she has never given me vibes of someone with a level of ambition for power that you would need to betray someone close to you like this and she calls Catarina 'Nona' so I am guessing she was close with the whole Dellamorte family. Illario though - from the wigmakers job to the scenes we have seen with him - he reeks of ambition. For all we know a rivalry could have been ingrained him by his parents when he was small - maybe Illario's parent and Lucanis's parent who were siblings were bitter rivals both grasping at the positon of their mother's heir - maybe there is more for us to find out why Catarina ended up raising both boys... I even think I remember one of the Devs mention we will learn more about Lucanis's parents in later parts of the game.
This isn't a new thought of mine. Honestly since the Wigmakers Job -I didn't trust Illario. The whole heir talk never sat right with me. Lucanis is either named heir or would be named Catarina's very shortly. While Lucanis doesn't want the position (and my guess the neon target on his back that comes with it) of First Talon, he would take it if that's what his grandmother wants (Wigmakers Job) even though Lucanis thinks Illario maybe is better suited for the position. But like the good Antivan Boy Lucanis is - if his Nona asks him - he will. Illario on the other hand seems to want this more than anything else. To me the whole 'who is heir' thing reads sooooo a Game of Thrones in my mind - it just gives me such strong Targaryen infighting energy.
Also Illario while he has a very handsome face - it just gives me "don't fucking trust him" energy. Also from the recruitment mission video (maybe mild spoilers here) but that man is putting on act - he sounds way more upset than I think would be called for given the fact Lucanis is very likely alive now, there is this anger in his voice that feels out of place. Would you not be excited to find out your beloved cousin who was more brother to you - is in fact - not fucking dead? I also think the fact he doesn't go with Rook on the rescue - is so telling. The excuse made - super lame and I don't think it's bad writing. I think it's breadcrumbs and foreshadowing. And what has honestly been said about the Crow related questline - we are going to see the politics of it all...
Lastly - Why Spite? Wynn was a Spirit of Faith and she in fact had been a woman who believed in what the Circle was doing - Faith makes sense. Justice with Anders - makes so much sense because of who he is and what he experienced. Compassion for Cole also makes sense if you read Asunder. So why was Spite of all things able to be bound to Lucanis? They had tried others but Spite is what took. I think it's connected to the person who betrayed him, put him in the position that he was in for year... that whatever Love he may have had for that person turned into Spite... get what I am throwing down.
IDK this is living in my head in a nice 4 bedroom condo rent free right now.
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idkyetxoxo · 2 days
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Daeron Targaryen - Ashes of Betrayal
Summary - Secrets unravel and tensions ignite between brothers, Daeron's forbidden love for her puts them all at risk. With loyalty and betrayal hanging in the balance, her fate is sealed by forces beyond her control, leading to a devastating clash between love and cruelty.
Pairing - Daeron Targaryen x Velaryon reader
Warnings - Violence, mild language
Word count - 3176
Based on this request
Masterlist for Daeron • House of the Dragon General Masterlist
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Finding myself captured by the enemy in the midst of a war wasn't exactly part of the plan. 
Yet here I was, shackled, facing Aemond Targaryen, whose cold, calculating gaze remained unnervingly calm, even as the chains rattled against my wrists.
"Tell me this instant how you knew about that route," Aemond demanded. His tone was even, controlled, as though the answer was more a matter of curiosity than importance.
I met his stare, unfazed. "You already have me in chains. What more can you do?" 
My voice was steady, but the deliberate tug at the cold metal binding my wrists served as a reminder that I wasn't as composed as I pretended to be.
Aemond's jaw tightened, though his expression stayed eerily neutral. His single eye bore into mine, assessing every detail, every slight movement. 
My gaze flickered for a split second to the shadows where Aegon and Daeron stood, just out of the light, and that brief glance was all it took. 
Aemond's attention followed, and though he didn't outwardly react, I saw the moment he understood.
"Seems our younger brother has betrayed us," Aemond said softly. His words were cold and measured, though the underlying anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. 
His gaze drifted toward Daeron, who shifted uncomfortably under the accusation, his guilt clear even before he opened his mouth.
Aegon, however, didn't waste a second. He stalked toward me, fury written in every step. 
His hand shot out, tangling painfully in my hair, yanking me roughly to my feet with a vicious jerk. His breath was hot against my cheek as he leaned in, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
"I wonder what your smug cunt of a mother would think," Aegon hissed, his voice dripping with venom, "if she saw how her precious daughter was being treated by the rightful king." 
He pulled harder, making me wince, but I refused to cry out.
"She would expect nothing less from a usurper like you," I spat, glaring at him with all the contempt I could muster.
Aegon's eyes darkened with fury, and before I could brace myself, the back of his hand struck my face, the force of it sending a sharp sting across my skin. 
The pain was immediate, radiating down to my jaw, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daeron flinch, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he stepped forward instinctively, hands raised in an almost futile gesture of peace. 
His eyes locked on mine, and despite everything—the chaos, the violence—there was still something soft there. 
A silent plea. He hated seeing me like this, hated what his brothers were doing. But he was powerless to stop them. Or, at least, too afraid to try.
"Aegon," Daeron murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stop. Please."
Aegon glanced back at his younger brother, a cruel smile twisting his lips. His grip on my hair tightened. 
"Stop? Why?" He yanked me forward, dragging me toward him as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. "You're the one who betrayed us, Daeron. You should be thanking me for not gutting her on the spot."
Daeron's eyes flashed with something raw—guilt, fear, love. But Aegon's words held him captive as much as they did me.
Aemond stood slowly from his seat, his tall frame casting a long, ominous shadow as he moved closer. His cold, calculating gaze shifted to Daeron. 
"Do not tell me you betrayed us for some bastard girl," he said, his voice dripping with disbelief and disgust. His words were an accusation, and they lingered in the air like poison. 
He stepped closer to Daeron, not just daring, but almost begging him to deny it, to speak some lie that would erase the suspicion from his mind. A beat passed, heavy, suffocating.
Daeron's silence was damning. 
He glanced at me again, and in that moment, I saw everything he couldn't say—his fear for me, the guilt of betraying his family, and the helplessness of knowing he couldn't save us both. 
His fists clenched at his sides, his whole body trembling with barely contained emotion, but he said nothing. And in his silence, Aemond found his answer.
"Fine," Aegon snarled, shoving me back so hard that I stumbled, falling to the ground with a loud clatter of chains. 
My wrists throbbed where the iron bit into my skin, but I barely registered the pain. 
Aegon loomed over me, his smirk wide and vicious. "You can watch her die tomorrow. Consider it a fair price for your insolence, brother."
"No, please," Daeron's voice cracked, his desperation unmistakable now. He stepped forward again, but Aegon turned away, already done with the conversation.
"You should be grateful I'm giving you a front-row seat," Aegon called over his shoulder, his tone flippant, as though my death were a mere triviality. 
He stalked toward the door, leaving Daeron standing frozen, torn between his family and the woman he cared for.
The room pulsed with unspoken tension, every breath weighed down by the unshakable promise of death. 
Daeron's eyes found mine, pleading, but there was nothing either of us could do.
His love for me was evident, but love had no power here. Not against Aemond and Aegon.
"Brother, listen," Daeron began again, voice cracking under the strain of desperation. He took a tentative step toward Aemond, his body trembling with the weight of it all.
Aemond turned sharply, jabbing a finger into Daeron's chest. 
"Do not say another word," he spat, his voice sharper than the edge of a blade. His single eye burned with barely concealed fury. 
"For now, she is simply a prisoner—chained and forgotten, an afterthought in this war. But if you push me, if you test me, brother, I will throw open those cell doors and let every knight, servant, and man in this city have their fun with the false queen's precious daughter."
His words sliced through the room, venomous and cold. Daeron froze, his face paling as the threat settled in. His lips parted, but no words came out. 
His gaze flickered back to me, and the weight of Aemond's threat crushed any hope that remained.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the rising panic in my chest, but the chains felt heavier now, the room colder. Aemond was no longer simply playing a game; this was his final move, and he held all the pieces.
Aemond had always been the calm storm—the silent, calculating force that ruled with a cold fist. I had no illusions about what he was capable of. 
But Daeron... Daeron had been the light, the flicker of hope that perhaps, somewhere, there was still something human left in this war.
"Aemond, please," Daeron's voice was a hoarse whisper, barely holding together. "She's not—"
"Not what?" Aemond sneered, leaning in closer. "Not worth it? Or is it that you think your love for this girl will sway me?"
Daeron's silence only fueled Aemond's cruel smile. "You've always been weak, Daeron," Aemond said, his voice laced with disdain. "Weak and foolish."
The words hung heavy between them, and Daeron's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Think on it," Aemond said as he turned to leave, his tone mocking. "By morrow, it may be too late to save her—or yourself."
The door creaked open, the dim light from the corridor casting long shadows across the room. 
For a moment, Daeron stood there, trembling, caught between the desire to act and the crushing weight of his brother's will. 
His eyes flicked to me one last time, filled with sorrow and guilt before he turned and followed Aemond out. 
The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the cold, dark silence, my heart pounding in my chest. 
The promise of death—or worse—loomed closer now, more real than ever before.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
"Mother, please," Daeron pleaded, his voice cracking as he sank to his knees before Alicent. 
His hands clutched desperately at the hem of her skirts, his tear-filled eyes searching her face for any glimmer of hope. 
Alicent stood still, her fingers trembling as they rested on the arms of her chair. She swallowed hard, her eyes flicking away from his, unwilling to meet the depth of his despair.
"Daeron," she sighed, her voice heavy with the weight of truths she wished she could deny, "they do not listen to me any longer." 
The admission tasted bitter on her tongue.
Aegon and Aemond had drifted far beyond her reach, carried away by power and ambition.
"But Aemond will kill her," Daeron insisted, his voice rising with panic. 
He scrambled to his feet, his hands gripping her arms now, begging her to intervene, to be the shield between Aemond's cruelty and the woman he loved. 
Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill, and the sheer desperation in his face broke her heart.
Alicent pulled away, her movements sharp and swift as she turned from him, unable to bear the sight of his anguish. 
She crossed the room, pacing, her hand unconsciously rising to her mouth as she chewed nervously at her thumb, a habit long thought forgotten but resurfacing now under the weight of their reality. 
"You know what Aemond is," she muttered, the words half-spoken to herself. 
There was no controlling her second son anymore; he had grown into a storm—cold, relentless, and unpredictable.
"Do not let him," Daeron's voice broke as he followed her, his tears finally spilling down his cheeks. He reached out, his hand trembling as it touched her arm. "I beg you."
Alicent froze, turning to face her son, her eyes softening. She exhaled deeply, her own heart torn. 
With a gentle hand, she brushed away a tear from his cheek, her fingers lingering on his face, wishing she could offer him some comfort, some promise. But there was none to give. 
"If Aemond has set his mind to it," she whispered, "there is nothing I can do." Her voice cracked, the burden of her helplessness almost too much to bear.
"Rhaenyra will not let this go," Daeron warned, his voice thick with the fear of what was to come. 
The mention of her name made Alicent flinch, her fingers twitching as the ghost of old memories washed over her—memories of friendship now soured by blood, betrayal, and bitter rivalry. 
Rhaenyra's name brought a dull ache to her chest, a reminder of everything that had been lost between them.
"She will not," Alicent whispered, her eyes drifting to the window. 
She gazed out at the sky, her mind flashing with images of her once closest friend. 
The hurt, the pain, the love that had been twisted into something unrecognizable. It all felt like a distant dream, yet the consequences of those shattered bonds were now painfully real.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
It all seemed to be happening too fast.
One moment, Alicent had been trying to make her sons see reason, pleading with Aemond and Aegon to abandon their cruel paths, to halt this madness before it spiralled further out of control. 
But reason had fallen on deaf ears. And now, in the next breath, Daeron was kneeling before me, his trembling hands wrapped tightly around mine, his soft words a quiet comfort amidst the storm. 
Silent tears spilt down my cheeks as the heavy reality of my fate sank in.
"Move," Aemond's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. His footsteps echoed as he approached, the sound chilling in its finality. 
He stood above us, his cold eye gleaming with malice, his lips curled into a smug smirk. But Daeron refused to budge, his grip on my hands firm, as if he could anchor me to safety as if love alone could protect us from the inevitable.
"No," Daeron whispered, shaking his head, his knuckles white as he clung to me. His eyes were wide with fear and defiance, staring up at his brother, silently pleading for mercy.
Aemond's smirk faltered, replaced by cold fury. With a single nod, he signalled to the Kingsguard. 
Two of them stepped forward without hesitation, seizing Daeron by the arms. He struggled violently in their grasp, his body thrashing as they dragged him away from me.
"Let me go!" Daeron shouted, his voice hoarse, fighting with every ounce of strength he had. 
His eyes remained locked on mine, desperate, terrified. The sight of his suffering twisted something deep inside me, and tears streamed freely down my face.
Aemond watched it all with cold detachment. 
Slowly, almost lazily, he unsheathed his sword, the metallic ring of the blade echoing ominously through the room. He stepped forward, the tip of the sword gleaming in the dim light as he approached me.
"Any final words, niece?" Aemond asked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he towered over me. 
He stared down at me, his eye alight with cruel amusement, savouring every moment of my helplessness.
I lifted my head, staring up at him defiantly, though my body trembled with fear. 
"When my mother comes," I spat, my voice trembling but filled with fury, "I hope she brings the wrath of the seven hells with her."
Aemond chuckled, his lips curling into a mocking smile. 
"Such a fiery spirit," he mused, tutting as if I were a misbehaving child. "But you'll soon learn that fire burns out quickly, especially when faced with the cold steel of reality." 
He stood over me, his sword raised high. His cold, calculating eye bored into me, devoid of remorse, devoid of mercy. 
Every second seemed to stretch into eternity as I knelt there, bound by chains, my heart pounding in my chest.
Behind him, Daeron struggled violently against the Kingsguard restraining him, his voice ragged and desperate as he shouted, "Aemond, please! Don't do this!"
But Aemond's attention never wavered. He was relentless and unmoved by his brother's pleas. He had already made up his mind. 
This was his justice—cold, unforgiving, absolute.
I stared up at him, my breath shaky, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. 
Tears stung the corners of my eyes, different tears but I refused to let him see me cry. If this was my end, I would meet it with strength. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
Behind Aemond, I could hear Daeron's anguished cries, the sound of his body thrashing as he fought with every ounce of strength he had. His voice cracked, breaking with each plea. 
"Aemond, no!" His eyes, wild and desperate, searched for mine through the chaos.
And then, in that final moment, I locked eyes with Daeron, my heart breaking at the sight of him—tears streaking his face, his lips trembling, torn between helpless rage and soul-crushing sorrow.
Our love had always been a quiet thing, hidden in stolen glances and whispered promises, but now, with death so close, there was no need for silence. 
I didn't have the strength to speak, not with Aemond's sword poised to strike, but I mouthed the words I had longed to say out loud for so long.
I love you.
Daeron's face crumpled in anguish, his knees buckling beneath him as the weight of those words sank in. 
The Kingsguard dragged him backwards, but his eyes never left mine. 
He screamed my name, the sound a raw, broken cry that echoed through the chamber, reverberating with his pain. "No!"
But Aemond didn't hesitate. He smirked, his lips curling in satisfaction as he brought his sword down with brutal finality. 
The cold steel sliced through the air, and in one swift motion, it cut through me.
Pain exploded in my chest, sharp and overwhelming, but it was brief. The world blurred around me, and for a moment, everything slowed. 
My body crumpled to the ground, the chains clattering loudly as I collapsed, the cold stone beneath me stealing the last warmth from my skin. 
Blood pooled beneath me, thick and dark, seeping out in slow, spreading tendrils.
Aemond stood above me, his sword still in hand, watching the life drain from me with a detached, almost clinical gaze. 
He had done what he set out to do—delivered his judgment, his so-called justice. And now, to him, it was over.
But behind him, Daeron was anything but composed. He fell to his knees as the Kingsguard finally released him, their grip no longer necessary. 
His body trembled with shock, the horror of what had just happened crashing down on him. His eyes, wide with disbelief, stared at my lifeless form, and for a moment, it seemed as if the world had gone silent. 
The sound of his own breath caught in his throat, choked by grief.
"No..." Daeron whispered, his voice small, broken. He crawled toward me, his hands trembling as they reached out, gently touching my blood-stained cheek. 
"No, no, no..." His words came out in a rush, frantic, as if he could somehow undo what had been done as if his desperate whispers could bring me back.
But I was gone.
Daeron cradled me in his arms, pulling my limp body against his chest. His tears fell freely now, soaking into my hair as he rocked back and forth, whispering my name over and over, as though the repetition could summon me back to life. 
His hands, stained with my blood, clung to me, refusing to let go.
"Aemond!" Daeron's voice rose suddenly, hoarse and raw with fury. He looked up at his brother, hatred blazing in his tear-filled eyes. "How could you?" 
His voice was a broken snarl, filled with more pain than rage. He trembled violently, barely able to contain the torrent of emotions ripping through him. "How could you..."
Aemond sheathed his sword with a slow, deliberate motion, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at Daeron. 
"It had to be done," he said, his voice calm, as if the weight of my death meant nothing to him. As if it were just another move in a grander game.
Daeron's entire body shook with the force of his grief, his hands clenching into fists as he held me tighter. 
His heart shattered, torn between love and the devastating realization that no matter how much he pleaded, no matter how much he fought, he could not protect me from Aemond's cruelty.
"You—" Daeron choked on his words, his face twisted in agony. "You've killed her... You've destroyed everything."
Aemond turned away, his back now to his brother, and without a word, he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a final, resounding echo.
Daeron was left alone in the suffocating silence, clutching my lifeless body to his chest, his tears falling in steady streams. His voice was gone now, replaced by soft, broken sobs that filled the empty chamber. 
He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath hitching as he whispered, "I love you... I love you..."
But it was too late.
And as the night stretched on, Daeron remained there, shattered and alone, the weight of his loss crushing him from the inside out. 
The woman he had loved was gone, and no matter how many tears he shed, no matter how many promises he had whispered, there was no bringing me back. 
The hollow ache of regret and sorrow would haunt him for the rest of his days.
In that moment, Daeron knew he had lost more than just me—he had lost himself.
A/n - Sorry this took so long but I hope it's ok I got a tad bit carried away hence the word count!
Daeron tag list - @alyssa-dayne
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yourlocalkatiesimp · 2 days
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anyways here’s me yapping about rio vidal and her background, spoilers below the cut
it makes WAY too much sense what she’s death itself now that we actually know (ps don’t take any of this seriously i’m literally just guessing)
there have been all kinds of hints, and it would also explain why agatha hates her so much
since teen is billy, we can assume as of right now that nicholas is dead, meaning that at one point or another rio is the one that took agatha’s son. it could also be that he died and agatha went to rio to try to get him back, i think it’s probably the first one
she quite literally claws her way out of the ground on the road, assumably from where they buried sharon. she probably took the opportunity to join them since sharon is now dead, and she doesn’t have a coven of her own to open the door with so she used the grave
in one of the teasers/trailer things that they released before the show, the coven is using a ouija board and it spells out “DEATH”, which we can now take as being literal
and finally, it explains why rio seems to be so enamored with agatha. the witch who has been alive for centuries, killed several of her own but never actually died, and she’s LITERALLY flirting with death herself. it also explains the lines where rio says that agatha can’t kill her, and agatha responds by saying that rio isn’t “allowed” to kill her. if rio is death herself she can’t be killed, and more than likely agatha has made some sort of deal that has made sure that rio can’t be the one to kill her.
anyways the sapphic witches have taken over my mind and i absolutely adore rio, so thanks for coming to my ted talk
welcome to the edits bc as i find more i’m just gonna add it
edit: in episode 3 during lilia’s hallucination, we see what appears to be death behind who i think is her mother(?) this being has green spots for eyes which tracks with rio being a green witch, long dark hair, and the outfit looks WEIRDLY similar to rio’s outfit that she’s in when she breaks into agatha’s house in episode 1
there’s also a tarot card that they posted as a teaser for the show, and the specific one i’m talking about is the Death card. it’s holding the same knife as Rio’s, and appears to be in the same outfit as her in one of the clips from the trailer. it’s also clear all the cards were picked for a reason, because the rest of them can be related to the other witches or the coven as a whole
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kaleldobrev · 18 hours
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Vampergeist (5) — The 15 Year Problem Series
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Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester
Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Cursing (6x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension & Vulnerable Reader
Authors Note: Only 2 more parts after this one gang! I hope y'all have been having a great time with this series so far! | It's one of my favorite universes to write for | A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆
⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 4
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“Okay, I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Dean said, looking up from one of the case files the coroner had given you less then half an hour ago. He kept a strong grip on the files, his tone and facial expressions serious.
You gave him a slightly questionable look as you sipped your beer and squinted your eyes slightly. Before you had called Sam, you had done some digging and you were sure that it was a poltergeist case, as all signs of one were there at all of the crime scenes. The only couple of things you hadn’t quite nailed yet were who the poltergeist was, and why it seemed to be only targeting medical students. “Yeah, it’s a polter—”
“A Vampergeist,” Dean said at the exact same moment as you, essentially cutting you off.
Your mouth was half open, trying to process what he just said. After the case was over, you made a mental note to ask Sam if his brother said things like this often. You folded your hands, eyeing Dean, trying to keep a straight face. “What in the living fuck is a Vampergeist?”
“It’s a poltergeist that sucks the blood of its victims like a vampire,” Dean explained, his tone with slight humor in it. “Vampergeist,” he repeated, moving his hands in a gesture as if he was somehow imitating Vanna White. The smile on his face was a rather goofy one — similar to that of a toddler who told his mother a new word he had just discovered. But you couldn’t help but smile looking at him. With the short amount of time you’ve been with Dean, he had made you smile more than anyone had in such a long time.
“Vampergeist is definitely a new one,” you said, playing along with his new word. A word that you didn’t want to admit to him that you were actually pretty fond of. “Unfortunately, Vampergeists exist just as much as Bigfoot and Nessie do,” you teased.
“Vampergeists don’t exist,” he mumbled to himself, using a slightly mocking tone. You smirked, giving a quiet chuckle to yourself at his imitation of you.
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Dean rubbed his eyes, feeling the eye strain starting to hit him from looking at the case files and the laptop. At this point, neither one of you had a clue who the poltergeist could be, and why it seemed to be specifically targeting medical students of all people. In his long hunting career, and in your numerous poltergeist cases you’ve worked, neither of you had ever seen or heard of one that drained the blood of its victims before; especially one that didn’t even leave marks for entry.
He looked at you, and you were biting your bottom lip; something that you tended to do, he noticed, whenever you were thinking or concentrating hard on something. He wished he was the one biting it. Fuck, I need to get laid, he thought.
You must of felt his stare, as all of a sudden you looked up from the case file and smiled at him. The way you smiled killed him. "Did you find anything?" You asked, placing the case file on the table.
"No," he answered automatically, rubbing his face again. "But what I can tell you is that I have a fuck ton of eye strain. Which means, it's time to take a break," he said, patting the table and getting up.
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You weren't against a break, as the more breaks you took, the longer it took to work the case. And the longer it took to work the case, meant the longer amount of time you got to spend with Dean.
As he got up from the table, he went to his side of the bed and plopped onto it, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning on the television. "Watching tv isn't going to help your eye strain you know," you commented. "Might make it worse."
Dean scoffed. "Everything can be solved by watching some TV," he said. "Now come." He patted your side of the bed, and started flipping through the channels trying to find something the two of you could watch together.
As you lied down on the bed next to Dean, your heart started to pound quickly. You were inches away from him, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. You wanted to grab his hand and hold it in yours, rest your head on his shoulder. But the more you thought about all the things you had wanted to do with him, the sadder you got. You were never going to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, or feel his lips on yours. There was no way he would ever look at you in a romantic way.
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There was absolutely nothing to watch, which slightly surprised him, because even in shitty motels, there was at least one thing to watch. But the more he channel surfed, the deeper he sighed. “There’s nothing on, not even Scooby-Doo,” he said.
“Is Scooby-Doo your favorite?” You asked, looking at him, and he nodded in response.
“Yeah. Like I said before. Scooby-Doo was one of those things that was always on no matter where me, my dad and Sammy were. It was also one of the few things that I watched where I knew the bad guy was going to lose,” he explained. “Like —”
“Horror movies,” you added. “That’s why I like horror movies so much. You know the bad guy is always going to lose,” you explained. Of course you fucking like horror movies, he thought. Was there something the two of you didn’t have in common?
“Yeah, exactly,” he agreed. “That’s what I tell Sammy all the time. He says our life is pretty much a horror movie, that’s why he doesn’t like them but, at least I know in movies the bad guy loses. In our world well…”
“It’s not a guarantee,” you said, finishing his sentence for him yet again, your tone sounding almost slightly saddened. “Speaking of which,” you began, as you sat on the edge of the bed, “we need to find out who this poltergeist is before anymore students end up dead,” you said, as you walked back over to the table.
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“Yahtzee!” Dean randomly called out, throwing his hands up in the air before spinning his laptop to face you. “Read the title of this article I finally found,” he said, with the biggest, impressed smile on his lips.
“David Falko’s medical instruments donated to medical museum at The University of Tulsa,” you read aloud. “What about it?” You asked.
“Keep reading, and look at the date on the bottom of the article,” Dean pointed out.
“July first, twenty-sixteen,” you said.
“And when was the first murder?” Dean asked.
“July third, twenty-sixteen,” both you and Dean at the same time.
“Son of a Bitch,” you mumbled.
“But wait, there’s more,” Dean began, holding up his pointer finger before turning his laptop back to him. “I did a little bit more digging on our pal Falko here, and fifty years ago, he murdered three of his medical students using the exact same instruments that were donated.”
“How do you explain the blood draining with no marks?” You asked.
Dean grinned from ear to ear. “I am so glad you asked.” He grabbed one of the case files that the corner had given you, and opened it, revealing the photographs from the autopsy. “Our coroner friend did miss something. See this right here?” Dean pointed to one of the autopsy photos, which was a close up picture of one of the medical students hairlines by their neck.
“That mark right there?” You asked, pointing to a small circular mark that looked extremely similar to a mole.
“Yep. That’s not a mole like the coroner thought. It’s actually a puncture wound. What Falko did fifty years ago, was he punctured the base of the students skulls close enough to their hair line so it looked like a mole and essentially, went unnoticed,” Dean explained. “Until now anyway,” he winked.
“And because he was their supervisor, that’s why there was no forced entry,” you stated, and Dean nodded. “What about the lack of struggle?”
“All three students offered to make Falko coffee, and when the students weren’t looking, Falko would drug them. So, when the students drank the drugged coffee, they would fall asleep, and that’s when he could do his handiwork,” he explained, and his explanation made your blood run cold. Not only did Falko kill three people, he did it in a cowardly way.
“It would make sense for Falko to be our guy. Do you think, and it’s a stretch here I know that, the reason that there are no drugs in any of the students systems is because he can just knock them out from being a ghost?” You knew how crazy your theory was, but in this line of work, sometimes the craziest of theories were the most logical of ones.
Dean shrugged. “Could be possible. But at the same time, even in death, serial killers don’t really change their M.O. And I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”
You chuckled at his comment. “I’m sure it’s not the craziest thing you’ve ever said,” you slightly smirked.
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Dean smirked back. “Actually —” but before he could indulge in your comment, you cut him off.
“Please tell me the medical instruments are still at the college, because I’m assuming we can’t just salt and burn this guy,” you said. Both Dean and you have been on plenty of ghost cases, and rarely was it that easy to just salt and burn the remains — there was almost always something else involved.
“You would be correct because our buddy here was cremated,” Dean replied.
“Of course he is,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alright. Well. Since we have a few hours to kill before dark, I say we take a little nap and fuel up before we steal some historical medical equipment from a prominent university.”
Dean smiled, chuckling to himself. “Couldn’t have said it any better myself.”
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The rest of the morning and afternoon with Dean couldn’t have gone any quicker. It felt like the time flew by, and it was time that you desperately wanted to re-live again; which is funny because it was relatively uneventful. The two of you did what you had suggested: take a nap, refuel, and watched some tv. But during those hours with him, you felt safe and comfortable. You felt truly safe with Dean despite barely knowing him a couple of days. He was still relatively a stranger to you and yet, you’d trust him with your life if it ever came down to it.
When it came to your nap, you were the first one to wake, which you were strangely grateful for as you were able to admire the way Dean slept. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, to feel his stubble underneath your fingertips. But you had to resist the urge even though it was getting stronger with each passing second.
When nighttime had finally come, it was time to head to the medical museum at the university, and hopefully put a stop to this once and for all. But based on the information that the two of you had gathered though, you figured that Falko was done with his little murder spree, but you needed to make sure that he would never be able to harm anyone ever again. Three now, and six in total was far too many innocent lives lost.
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As you and Dean drove to the university, there remained that comfortable silence that seemed to often appear between the two of you; the only sound to be heard in the truck was The Clash, but the volume was scarily low for you, as you tended to blast your music — not caring who heard. But in this moment, you felt it wasn’t necessary.
Despite the silence that you were enjoying between the two of you, you were the one that broke it. “Before, you asked me how I got into hunting so young,” you began, still keeping your eyes on the road.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean reassured you. “It’s not a big deal if I don’t know.”
“I want to. I trust you,” and you meant it when you said that, as trust was something you rarely gave to people since you became a hunter. You removed your hand from the wheel briefly, and touched the dog tags that were hanging in your review mirror. “See these?” You asked, and removed your hand, putting it back on the wheel again. Dean nodded. “He’s the reason I got into hunting.”
Dean looked at you, inches away from touching the precious dog tags you had refused to burn after all this time. “May I?” He asked, and you nodded. He removed the dog tags gently from the rear view and you felt your heart pounding quickly. You never let anyone touch them, and yet, you were letting Dean. “Joseph A. Baxter,” Dean read.
“Joey,” you corrected, partially smiling as you said his name. “He was my best friend and my neighbor. We were…inseparable, attached to the hip. Our parents always wondered when the two of us would start dating but, we…” you sighed deeply. “Never got the chance to.” You hadn’t talked about Joey in such a long time, and it felt almost therapeutic in a way to talk about him, but at the same time, he was someone you rarely talked about because sometimes it was too painful for you to bring up the memories of him, despite the amount of fondness and love you had for him.
You felt tears coming on, and you quickly did your best to bat them away with your eyelashes, but some still managed to escape to your cheeks. “He enlisted, and he left. Said he’d be back in no time,” you took a deep breath again. This was harder than you expected it to be. You wanted to continue, to tell Dean about him, as you felt safe enough to tell him, something you rarely felt with people since Joey died. As you were almost about to give up, you felt Dean place his hand on your thigh. Not in a romantic way, but in a comforting way. But the gesture didn’t last long, as he quickly pulled it away. But that small gesture gave you enough strength to continue.
“When he came back he was…he was dead. We got the news when an army vehicle pulled up in front of his parents house with one of those folded flags with his dog tags on top,” you paused again, but Dean remained silent. “His funeral was a week later. I was just so…angry at him. He promised…he promised he’d come back.” You didn’t fight back any of the tears now, as they were running down your cheeks. You knew you were in no condition to drive now, so you pulled over to the side of the road.
As soon as you did, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your body was on autopilot. You turned to Dean and wrapped your arms around him, and without hesitation it seemed, he wrapped his arms around you. He gently rubbed your back the best he could at the angle you were at, and he started humming, as if he was trying to help you calm down. “It’s okay,” he whispered on repeat to you.
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⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 6 (Not yet available)
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starzzmissthesun · 2 days
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i think you should totally drop whatever hc/ideas you have lying around honestly...i would love to see more into ur brain...pls <33
:DD
Hi!!!! Sorry this is a little late, I got so distracted with an animatic im working on(😈) and then a stupid essay😭😭 being honest rn... Almost all of what I've been thinking about is my fic.. 😔
But!! I can still go a little into that without spoilers. I've finally figured out The Perfect ending for this story that I feel fits with the overarching themes I wanted to tell. I've been making sure that every little detail fits with the themes I wanted to show, I wanted it to overlap Regulus and barty's characters and their overarching themes with PD. I also didn't want to just replicate PD cause I feel like that doesnt have the depth or commentary I want to out into it. Idk ive always thought it's super fun to put everything as some sort of symbol or metaphor or foreshadowing. I'm like literally so close to being done drafting and then I can actually talk about it a little more😭
Anyways! I've also been thinking about barty post regs death 😔(when am I not) But more specifically how every memory he had would almost be tainted, everything now would have an air of questioning and unsureness. Even memories where Regulus isn't there, just wondering where was he? What was he thinking? Am I remembering this right? What could've I changed? What was the domino that caused all of this to happen? Eventually finding it hard to accept the way it really was, having the "I guess it was" and feeling it, but overintellectualizing it. His logic and reasoning is his downfall in this situation, that's what makes him go crazy. (Side note I NEED to make a little post about his intersection between intelligence and madness) Hes doing a complicated version of when there's a task that seems so simple that you think it's a trick, but it's not, it's just that. What happened with Regulus was just that.
Also, I've recently self reflected and realized that a lot of my barty characterization is similar to how I think of Leonard Cohen's art(who I LOVE LOVE LOVE) Idk if you've listened to him or read any of his work, but I HIGHLY suggest it, it's perfect for fall. Anyways, a lot of his songs and poems carry themes of having a twisted self image, not completely self deprication though it may seem, but something else. It's closer to understanding and knowing that you are. Different. And unconventional. It's an uncomfortablility he has with himself. Being soemthig twisted from what you should've been. A lot of his stuff is also to do with tragically losing someone, out of their own choice, and still feeling very loyal yet bitter. Also of loving something so much that it turns dark, or it goes too quick, it spirals. Also his love songs are very barty's perspective on bartylus to me. And like, obvious war mentions. I could give some specific recs similar to barty or them if you'd like.
Another thing is of Regulus and his relationship with his dad. Though I see it completely reasonable if his dad was just kind of, not there and neglectful, it could give very interesting implications to his character, I like it the other way around. Orion seeing what a more carefree attempt at raising a child does and keeping Regulus even closer than he did before. I think Orion always liked Regulus more, despite him being the second, because he was a model son. I don't think he wanted this life or even to have kids, so Regulus being so complacent and in line with what he was supposed to be as a pure blood made him the decided favourite(as much as he could have one). He was always keeping a close eye on Regulus and he could feel it, but he didn't do anything out of place anyways. Orion could tell when he was even thinking something he wasn't supposed to. I believe that, no matter how much she tried, walpurga was too caught in her own head about her duty as a mother to see S+R as anything other than Her Kids, as property that she was supposed to care for and tend to, she obviously loved them, but couldn't see through them. But Orion was there around every corner looking through regulus' eyes into his soul to search for any thing out of his perfect kid.
Anyways.... That's all I can think of rn😭 but if you have questions about ANY of them lmk!!! I love yapping about my little thoughts 😁😁
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pascaloverx · 2 days
Text
NO LIGHT
SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.
FOUR
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FIVE
You put on a dress your mother gave you some time ago, one she called the "husband-catcher," telling you to wear it when you wanted someone special’s attention. Well, for tonight’s dinner, you want Steve Rogers' attention on you. You leave your hair down, choose the least uncomfortable pair of heels you could find at the last minute, apply light makeup, and a slightly bold red lipstick. You add a necklace that complements your neckline. Honestly, you feel like a seductive spy heading on a mission. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, but as you look at yourself in the mirror, you try to convince yourself that you can fool the handsome Rogers.
Grabbing your bag, you lock the door to your apartment, wave to the camera Barnes installed at the entrance, and head out for your meeting with Steve. It doesn’t take long to reach the restaurant on foot, as it's just across from your bakery. One of the perks of living close to work. From a distance, you spot Steve Rogers, sitting at one of the outside tables. He’s dressed in an elegant navy blue suit, his hair neatly in place with not a strand out of order, and his beard freshly trimmed. This man knows how to dress for a date — though this will be more of an interrogation.
"You take my breath away, Y/N. If your plan was to distract me with your charm, it’s already working," Steve says the moment he sees you approaching. You try to exude as much sex appeal as possible, making sure the slit in your dress is on full display while offering him a gentle smile.
"I believe you think I value your opinion on many matters. But thank you for the compliment, I do try to perfect my charm when I'm about to be interrogated by a stranger regarding someone he assumes I know." You respond boldly, watching as Steve pulls out the chair for you to sit. After settling into your seat and adjusting your bag, you realize you're actually sitting in a restaurant with a very handsome man. Your cheeks grow warm, which feels odd given how cool the evening is.
"You know Bucky, it’s only a matter of time before you admit it. I’d even bet you saw him before this meeting. That’s why you closed your bakery early, and don’t tell me it was just to get ready for our date. You look stunning, but I’m not an idiot. What did he tell you to do? Lie outright, I’m sure of it." Steve seems to know Barnes all too well, sounding completely convinced that he’s uncovered everything you’ve been hiding. You take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself.
"It's astounding how you think admitting to being a stalker is somehow better than understanding that I have no idea who the hell your friend is. Yes, he may have been a customer of mine. If you haven’t noticed, I serve a lot of people—including you. And as much as you don't deserve it, I closed my bakery early because I needed to prepare myself, not just by putting on a nice dress and makeup, but mentally. This is the first date I've had since I lost my trust in men. If you want to know why, it's because my fiancé cheated on me with my best friend. The week of our wedding. If you want more details, I smashed a vase over his head, he had to get over five stitches, and it was the first time I got arrested. He dropped the charges afterward because he felt guilty. Since then, I've been focusing on my bakery. So, tell me, smart guy—are you satisfied?" You speak with a certain flair, feigning near tears as you recount the story. You're lying, of course, about several details, but the performance is convincing enough.
Steve extends his hand across the table, gently holding yours and caressing it. You look at him with teary eyes while he gazes back at you like you're a lost puppy. "Where did Barnes find you? Until now, I thought you were just a regular bakery owner, but you're something else. If you tell me you know how to use a weapon, I’ll personally see to it that you become an agent." He laughs right after, clearly amused by your act.
You sigh in frustration, pulling your hand away from his, but he grabs it again, moving his chair closer to yours. He then pulls your neck towards him to whisper into your ear, "I'm starting to enjoy your lies. You can keep feeding them to me, but I’d prefer if you cut the nonsense and told me something real."
"I haven’t been fucked in almost a year. Am I lying or telling the truth?" You give up trying to fool Steve and decide to shift the conversation. You're still holding his gaze when the waiter clears his throat to get both of your attention. Your eyes dart away from Steve's as you straighten up in your chair, adjusting yourself. Rogers, too, composes himself, though he’s still chuckling at the situation.
“Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but I would like to know if you are ready to place your order. For today, the merlot paired with the chef's special pizza is highly recommended,” the waiter says politely, clearly embarrassed.
"We'll go with your recommendation," Steve replies with a broad smile, as if he’s having the time of his life. What a complete idiot. The waiter notes down the order and quickly heads off to fetch the wine, leaving you and Rogers alone again.
"You saw he was coming over and didn't warn me on purpose, right?" you ask, a bit furious, looking at him as if you could kill him.
"Let’s say I didn’t see him coming, just like you don’t know Bucky. But let’s get back to the main topic; you haven’t had a sexual partner for quite some time. Tell me, why did you share that with me?" Steve speaks seductively, looking at you as if you are something he treasures.
"Because that’s the reason for all of this, right? Not to find your friend, but to try to seduce me so I’d let you sleep with me. Of course, all in the name of you thinking you’ll find your friend. You want to find him so badly that you came here on a date with me instead of going to look for him. Admit it, you don’t want to be wrong about me knowing Barnes, because if I don’t know him, you’ve got nothing. You’ve wasted your time trying to get into my pants. Also, you don’t need to be formal when discussing my lack of sex. I haven’t fuck with anyone for a while. In fact, I might be manipulating you to seduce you and then discard you. Have you thought about that?" You try to be more straightforward among the lies and deceitful words. You just want to see if you can hit a nerve with Steve Rogers to convince him of something. Even if it’s that you’re a woman desperate for his cock.
“Dance with me?” Steve suddenly asks, catching you off guard. You look at him, trying to understand what he means. There's no music playing, and the waiter is about to serve the wine. But something tells you this is a test, so when he extends his hand toward you, you take it firmly. He places his phone on the table, and an instrumental melody begins to play. He then presses his body against yours, one hand holding yours and the other resting on your waist.
He leads you with confidence, your bodies swaying to the music. At one point, it feels less like dancing and more like a silent battle to see who will give in first. Steve’s hands grip the contours of your dress, almost reaching your backside. Your hand wraps around his neck, your head resting close to his chest, allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne—a woody scent that feels almost comforting, like a warm embrace.
"You’re right, I know your friend. Lying is just pure foolishness, and I can't take it anymore. In fact, I know him quite well. He was a secret crush of mine, not just a mere customer. The days he came into the bakery were the brightest. He’d order an espresso and the fresh bread I was testing the recipe for. I would come in early just to be ready when he arrived. I waited for months to find out his name, even though I knew he preferred savory over sweet, that he probably has a fluffy white cat, that he enjoys reading The Hobbit, and that he never paid me any mind. That’s why I denied knowing him; I feel pathetic saying all this. Like a silly teenage girl hoping to be noticed by the guy she finds attractive. And that’s all I have to say about him. He doesn’t know who I am, but I know who he is. I’d recognize him even in a crowd. " Your voice trembles, a mix of embarrassment and pretense, almost as if you feel utterly humiliated. It’s not a complete lie; it probably won’t work, but you have to try. Steve won’t give up easily if he doesn’t have part of the truth. And that’s what he’ll get from you—a fragment of the truth.
The waiter brings the pizza, interrupting the small world you and Steve had created during the dance. Both of you feel a bit embarrassed for being caught, but without saying much, you sit back at the table, allowing the waiter to serve you. The pizza is flavorful, but Steve seems distracted, still processing your ridiculous confession of love for Barnes. His usual confident demeanor falters for a moment as he picks at the food, clearly thinking over what you just said. The tension lingers, not from suspicion anymore but from the awkward truth you've offered.
"Since you've finally decided to tell me the truth, now tell me: when was the last time you saw James Barnes?" The crucial question is asked, almost as if it were another test. Between bites of pizza and sips of wine, you feel the need to reveal something to him. But if you tell the truth, Barnes could be at risk. He would be furious.
"The last time I saw him was…" You were just about to reveal the truth to Steve, realizing the mistake you were making when the sudden sound of a gunshot drew your attention. The bullet shattered your wine glass, leaving you horrified. The second shot was even closer to Steve, hitting his arm. Without much thought, you immediately drop to the floor, rushing over to Steve, who is pressing on his wound. You can hear people screaming in panic from inside the restaurant.
"What is so important that it's taking you this long to find?" you ask impatiently, panic rising inside you. You're more scared for Steve than he seems to be. Finally, he pulls out his car keys along with his wallet from his pocket. He places the money for the bill and tip on the table, then presses the car key into your hand. His grip is firm, and you're horrified when you see his blood smearing onto your skin from his hand.
"Y/N, I'm putting my life in your hands. Please, save me," Steve says as his eyes begin to close, his strength visibly fading. You quickly place his good arm over your shoulders and ask him to guide you to his car. He leads you as best as he can, and once there, you carefully put him in the passenger seat, fastening his seatbelt. You try calling out to him a few times, hoping to keep him conscious, but he slips into unconsciousness. Without wasting another second, you rush to drive him to the hospital, heart pounding as you speed through the streets.
It didn’t take long before you arrived at the emergency room of the hospital. After shouting for help, a doctor and several nurses rushed to assist you in getting Steve out of the car. You were questioned for a while about Steve—whether he had any allergies, what his condition was. You decided to say you were his wife, explaining that due to his military service, you hadn’t seen him for a while. Once they finished removing the fragments of the bullet from Steve’s arm, you could finally take a breath, though your heart still raced.
“Miss, your husband asked to see you,” one of the nurses informed you as you sat in the waiting room for hours. You quickly stood up to meet Steve, who was in a hospital bed looking much better.
"My beloved wife, have you waited all this time for me?" Steve Rogers says, sounding somewhat dazed, likely from the pain medication they gave him. You give him a slight smile as you see him beckoning you closer with his hand.
"How is my dear husband?" you ask, fully embracing the character as you approach him, gently holding his hand. He leans forward and pouts, as if asking for a kiss. You give him a quick peck on the lips.
"I want to go home. Can we leave?" Steve asks, laughing as if he's finding something amusing.
"We could go but your doctor said you need to stay under observation and the hospital said you need to give your insurance number or a nice amount of money." You smile and casually respond to Steve's question, but unfortunately, he falls asleep before he can answer you. You inform the hospital reception that you will provide Steve's financial information once he is better. They are understanding, thinking of you as a concerned wife. They even let you leave, promising to call if he improves. Feeling exhausted, you decide to go home. You drive Steve's car back to your place, borrowing it for the night.
As you’re about to enter your apartment, you hear a noise coming from inside. Great, this is when things go south. Thankfully, you have pepper spray in your bag, and you grab it, preparing to defend yourself against whoever is inside. When you open the door, you come face to face with a man. As soon as he turns to look at you, you spray him in the face.
"Ah, Y/N, are you trying to blind me?" Barnes exclaims, crying out in pain from the pepper spray in his eyes. You rush to help him, dropping your bag on a nearby surface. Gently, your fingers brush against his eyes as you attempt to wipe away the remnants of the spray. You blow softly into his eyes, trying to ease the burning sensation, while he watches you in stunned silence.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to," you say softly, your concern evident. "I thought you were an intruder." As you continue to tend to him, the tension in the room shifts from fear to a more intimate moment, the chaos of the evening fading into the background.
"It wasn't supposed to be you who got hurt," Barnes says, grasping your hand, which still bears the blood from Steve. For a moment, you're touched by his genuine concern for you. However, the realization of what he said sinks in, making you acutely aware that he has some connection to what happened.
"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your heart racing as you search his eyes for answers. "Did you know this was going to happen?" The tension hangs heavy in the air as you await his response, feeling both unsettled and intrigued by the depths of his involvement.
His eyes seem heavy as he searches for the right words, finally admitting, "It was Natasha's plan. She thought a small attack would distract Steve enough for him to stop looking for me. She figured you wouldn't be able to keep secrets. We planted bugs in the restaurant, and when we sensed you were about to spill, we had to act. I know you're going to be angry, but it was for your own good." James Barnes's words feel like a whirlwind, leaving you bewildered.
"You’re crazy. How could you let her hurt your friend? Or did you do it yourself? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? You put me at risk and left your best friend injured. He’s in a damn hospital bed, you son of a bitch." You step away from James Barnes, unable to recognize the man in front of you. How sadistic could he be to hurt Steve?
"Steve will survive. It was a strategically placed shot; we wouldn’t have harmed him if we didn’t know he would pull through. Please, Y/N; trust me. What Natasha and I did was for the best," James Barnes says, holding your hands again as if he desperately wants you to understand and accept that it was all part of his plan.
"Don't you dare ask me to trust you; you didn't trust me. You preferred to shoot Rogers rather than give me a vote of confidence. But I can promise you that if you don't step aside right now, I will make you regret not shooting me. I will tell Steve and the police everything I know about you, and I won't regret it. So get out of my apartment and don't come back," you say angrily, feeling something burn inside you. You are tremendously regretful for having trusted him, for ever thinking he could be yours.
Barnes's gaze conveys a sense of pain, as if he is truly remorseful. He heads toward the door as if to leave, but pauses just before opening it, turning back and practically rushing towards you. His lips meet yours in a kiss filled with emotion. James leads the kiss, as if he wants to consume you. The intensity of your tongues dancing within each other’s mouths, exploring, is sensational. There’s a strong urge to push Barnes away, to hit him, to cry for him. But in that fleeting moment, you savor the kiss.
"I'll come back when you’re calmer. Until then, don’t do anything reckless. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but just know that I’m truly sorry," James says as he breaks the kiss, his eyes still closed, relishing the sensation of your lips against his. When you open your eyes, he’s no longer there. For a moment, you wish he had never been in your life at all.
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madebysimblr · 20 hours
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8:30PM
Al: I'm home.
Missy: You are! With plenty of time to spare, thank you sweetheart. I know you think curfew is annoying but it gives me such peace of mind to know you're home. Hungry? There should be some leftovers.
Al: Uh no, I already ate. Can I talk to the both of you? About something important.
Missy: Of course!
Al: This is something that I've known for a really long time. It'll probably make a lot of sense, too! I don't want to hide about this anymore. So please keep an open mind.
Missy: You're not pregnant, are you? Because young lady-
Al: No. I'm not pregnant... And I'm not a young lady either. Mom, Dad, I'm trans.
Meanwhile
Fatima: Transgender?
José: Yes.
Fatima: Is there a different name you want to be called?
José: Oh uh, no? I haven't really come up with one yet. I mean one day probably... But I like my name since it's Papi's name too. I suppose I have always felt it's more his name than mine.
Fatima: Ah, perhaps a little. When you find something that speaks to you more, let me know.
José: I will. But... You're ok with this? You're not asking a ton of questions. What, did you somehow already know?
Fatima: [chuckles lightly] I did not. But I'm glad you told me. I never want you to pretend to be someone you aren't. I did have an inkling that you might have brought home a boyfriend one day to meet me rather than a girlfriend.
José: [laughs] What if I bring home one of each?
Fatima: Bring as many as you like, so long as they treat you well.
José: … But that's all? You're not angry? Concerned?
Fatima: Now why would I ever be angry? That you're being honest with me? If you couldn't be honest with me it would mean I'd failed you as a mother. My only concern would be if you were unhappy. You know that.
José: I know. Thanks mama.
Fatima: Of course, mija.
9:13 PM
Al: Sh-she kicked me out. I di-didn't know where else to go [sniffles].
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herefortheships · 1 day
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About that ending scene + Lydia and Betelgeuse's connection
I've been thinking about BJBJ's ending dream/nightmare scene, and I thought I'd give my two cents as to what the purpose and meaning of this scene could be.
I have only watched the movie once, but that ending sequence stuck with me as one of the most memorable moments in the movie, if only for how disturbing it was (to me).
That said, what I interpret as the purpose of this scene is really simple:
This scene serves to show the audience that Betelgeuse is not only not gone, but that he is indeed psychically connected to Lydia as he mentions early in the film. They have both woken up from the same fucked-up nightmare, thus showing that their connection remains intact.
This is what I think the scene itself means:
The birth of the Beetlebaby was Lydia's rude awakening. She can't simply banish Betelgeuse by saying his name three times anymore, because they are psychically connected (I'll talk more on this below). Sure, he will go away, but not permanently. Never permanently anymore.
Why does the baby come out of Astrid? Because that is the element of horror that turns the dream into the nightmare that shakes Lydia (or both Lydia and Betelgeuse) awake. It doesn't matter if Lydia decides to go and live her life with Astrid, ignoring the events prior, Betelgeuse is not gone.
Betelgeuse is not only still hanging around Lydia, exactly as he was at the beginning of the film, his connection to Lydia runs so deep that they can even share dreams/nightmares now (or he can at least enter or manipulate her dreams, and if they go with this one, then that means the terrifying Beetlebaby birth might have been placed in her dream as a little revenge for banishing him. Does Betelgeuse even sleep? I digress).
I think this is the very thread Tim Burton could use to start preparing Beetlejuice 3. Lydia and Betelgeuse's psychic connection. I do not think this was a throwaway line, or like Betelgeuse deluding himself, thinking that he and Lydia are connected. As I've said, I've only seen the movie once (bummer I was going again this week but something came up), but I'm sure there is enough solid evidence to support this. Beetlejuice is able to project images of himself around Lydia, without being summoned. Lydia is able to see glimpses of him because of this connection. The final dream sequence calls back to that line earlier in the movie and supports it/proves it to be true: they are indeed connected.
Now, here's the thing (and we're entering head-canon territory here), this isn't something he did alone; this can only happen because of Lydia herself.
We now know Astrid inherited Lydia's ability to see ghosts, what if there is more to it? What if they have psychic abilities that go beyond just being able to see the dead? I know the first movie made it seem like Lydia could see the ghosts because she was "strange and unusual", but I feel that this movie established that this is an ability that runs in her blood, as Astrid inherited it from Lydia. What if it's something that runs in her family? The answers could lie with Lydia's mother, who we now know is still alive.
As I said above, Lydia cannot just say Betelgeuse's name three times to get rid of him now; if she truly wants him gone, she is going to have to do something different. She will have to figure out a way how, and that's the story thread that could lead us to her finding her mother in the next movie.
Now, the keyword here is if Lydia wants to get rid of Betelgeuse.
This might be the reason she can't fully get rid of him just saying his name; it might even be the reason they're connected in the first place: She doesn't truly want him gone. It might even be her psychic abilities that are keeping Betelgeuse's presence from leaving her alone.
Take it with a massive grain of salt, obviously, as this is all speculation. But the movie sort of implied that all of Lydia's relationships have failed. Even her relationship with Richard, which seems to have been great. For what little we were given about it, it looked like he was someone she really connected to and loved. But something didn't work out there, despite this. Could it be that whatever connection Betelgeuse feels with Lydia that has led him to single her out as the love of his life, in his own words, Lydia has felt herself about him, albeit subconsciously (and perhaps much to her horror)? Lydia might have been intrigued by him for years, pushing it down due to her fear of seeing him again. She could be simultaneously fascinated and terrified by him. He is a very powerful demon and she wouldn't want to do something to cross him again, especially since their final interaction saw him betrayed from a contract he didn't stray from. She might have been fearful of Betelgeuse being vengeful.
But he wasn't vengeful. In fact, much to her surprise, he'd been longing to see her again for over thirty years.
Lydia now will have to grapple with her conflicted feelings for Betelgeuse and figure them out in the next film, if we're lucky to get it (and I have no doubt we will).
She could say his name three times, banish him away, but then her heart would summon him right back to her, and thus whatever psychic ability she has which also enables her to see the dead pulls him right back into her life and keeps their connection alive. It would be interesting to see if it turns out that it was her own feelings about Betelgeuse that have always kept him around "just out of reach" all this time, giving him a way in and keeping their souls connected. Like she subconsciously has known all this time they are meant to be together (soulmate storyline, if you will ✨).
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flamedraco · 14 hours
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I want to rant about them. Buckle in, this is a long rant.
I want to just say that I love TNT Duo. Just as a whole. In whatever form they take. These stupid little men and their stupid little rivalries and tension.
I am not a "DSMP" fan in most senses of the term. I never really got into the story all that much (though the lore was cool and more well thought out than most people give it credit for) and there wasn't much to really keep me interested. But these two characters. These two.
shakes them
I love them. I love how Wilbur is emotionally unstable even on his best days and his entire arc of going from a leader that others looked up to slowly devolved into a man driven mad by his own legacy. Writing Arsonist's Waltz made me really take a long look at his character and how I wanted to write him in that fic and it really made me think about how young the character must've been when he died and how tragic that is. I think about him a lot. He's my favorite blorbo to torture for a reason he's the perfect character for tormenting really. And it's so easy to write him with a strained relationship with his family, seeing how Phil did the bare minimum for him and his mother is either a Fridge or The Goddess of Death depending on how you interpret the lore because personally I don't see either as being wrong. Or him being married to a fish (Sally go brrrrr). Or canonically being the one to give birth to Fundy. And the idea that he was usually such a doting father but the second Fundy needed him most he was just gone and the complications that brings to their relationship. I love him and how it's so easy to either make him just a guy or some eldritch FUCK. I can make him BIRD. I can make him FREAKY and INHUMAN and I love to torment him.
And then Quackity. Fuck let me talk about Quackity. This is the BEST EXAMPLE of a FALLEN HERO character I have EVER SEEN in my LIFE. And if you know me you know I am WEAK for Fallen Hero shit.
C'mere shrike bitch we're talking about you now!
(just picture me grabbing him by the back of his stupid little button up and holding him like that, I've scruffed his dumbass)
This FUCKER went from being one of the most goofy, joking, just fucking around and having a good time person, to one of the most well thought out and interesting character arcs in the ENTIRE SMP if you ask me. This man went VILLAIN no matter how you want to slice it and that idea of someone who GENIUNELY tried to see the BEST in others deciding "fuck it, I've had enough of this" is just. The best kind of Fallen Hero to me. I love his entire casino theme. Gambling is one of my favorite aesthetics, and I love how when I came into this fandom despite the overwhelming amount of Duck Q stuff I found I managed to find ONE PERSON who made SHRIKE QUACKITY and it was SO PERFECT FOR HIM! Like there's nothing wrong with Duck Q and I recognize why that's the most common thing in the fandom because obviously the fucker's name is QUACKity and he has his whole thing with ducks but like. Shrike Q tho. The leader of the Butcher Army being a Butcher Bird. One of the most violent songbird species known for brutal kill methods and eating other birds being reflected in the man who ATE THE FUCKING HEART OF HIS EX. Like C'MON. (Yes other birds will eat other birds all the time but I'd like you to point me at another songbird species that has the absolute BALLS to attack something so much bigger than them) ((seen a video of what I think was a loggerhead shrike attacking a duck once)) (((though if you can find more aggressive songbirds like this I would LOVE to see them and learn about them))) ((((FUCK I LOVE BIRDS)))) It's perfect. I don't care. I love him. I love him and his Loggerhead/Northern Tendencies.
I love him for all the ways he didn't START violent and cruel but BECAME that way because he felt like he HAD TO. His arc is SO GOOD. The way he manipulated others he perceived as being "forgotten" like him to try and join him. I just. This man. This man. I'm going to shake him. I'm going to put him in a jar in the /affectionate way.
And then THEM TOGETHER. There is so much APPEAL to this ship in how you can write their dynamic in any way you want. From the more playful early days of the SMP where they were clearly friends and enjoyed each other's company to those stolen tense moments of Pogtopia to the eventual EVERYTHING that was LAS NEVADAS. You can write them on some of the best kind of healing arcs, with the idea that no matter what you did or who you were that you can still find love and forgiveness with the right person. You can have them heal together and learn to love again after so much tragedy. Or you can go down the route of making them ABSOLUTELY tearing each other APART and making each other WORSE. They can be absolute BASTARDS to each other but keep coming back to each other because they are the only two people on the server that have seen SO MUCH of the other person and the paths they went down.
These two characters just. Scream a level of UNDERSTANDING with each other that they wouldn't GET with other CHARACTERS.
And can I talk about how flexible they both are when it comes to AUs? I'm going to talk about them in AUs. They are FASCINATING TO ME in AUs. HEAR ME OUT OKAY!
So as someone who's been in a lot of fandoms there's a keen difference between being into a fandom for the content itself of the world, and being there for a specific character or groups of characters. I was into BNHA because of the lore of the world, not really an attachment to the characters themselves even if I did love them. Persona 5 was driven, again, by a love for the world and also the aesthetic of the game itself (and also a bit of the characters, I'll admit they changed my brain chemistry a little). Danganronpa, in contrast, was something I got into for the driving force of the characters and the murder mystery aspects. Assassination Classroom, obviously more character driven. Fairytail, also more character driven than anything else.
I got into DSMP specifically because of TNT Duo and my friend introducing me to them. But I've discovered something interesting about TNT Duo and why my hyperfixation over them has been lasting for so much longer.
Because they're easier to pry out of their world than other characters are. Which is why I was so surprised when I found so much more Canon Divergence AUs and less AUs in the sense of other universes. Like when I came to this fandom there was: No flower shop AUs, maybe a single coffee shop AU or two, not a single dragon or naga AU, and maybe one Siren AU. And the rest of it was mostly canon divergence! Which felt weird to me because these two feel so adaptive to other AUs you put them in!
While other characters feel, in some regards, tied to their original universe, these two don't feel as heavily weaved into their world. When I try to take them out it doesn't feel like I'm ripping them out and damaging them as I do. I don't feel tearing seams or fabric ripping, they just kinda...pop out. Which let's me take them and throw them into any roles I want, any AUs I want, and what I've noticed is that people do this a LOT with SBI and that they don't feel tied to the universe they originated from either. And I feel like that's in some part due to how the characters have lore from previous SMPs, previous worlds, previous experiences, and even future ones where the characters flow and adapt to fit whatever situation they're put into.
Some people might argue that I'm misrepresenting the characters in my fics or characterize them differently from the original source material, but that's because these are characters heavily formed around their experiences! Which makes them SO COOL for AUs! Because obviously the experiences are going to be different in an AU versus the source material! Making them a superhero or supervillain isn't the same experience as starting a country from the ground up! Making them a prince or king is different from elections and surviving from the land. Or dying and getting revived. Or overcorrecting into becoming a villain so nobody can ever hurt you again. AUs bring different experiences and that's why the characters are so fascinating to put in different AUs. And obviously some characteristics will carry over, but it's up to an author to decide what they carry over from the source material. Usually I carry over Wilbur being related to Phil, Techno, Tommy, Kristin, and sometimes I'll carry over Phil and Kristin's divinity which sometimes makes Wilbur an angel or demigod. Some authors usually carry over his mental instability, I like carrying over his sense of individuality. I like that he's stubborn, good at leading but not always enjoying it, yet always having the qualities for it. For Q? I like to carry over his general gambling aesthetic because I write mostly Las Nevadas Q since that's kinda who I know best out of all of Quackity's characterizations in the DSMP. Which means I write him as a manipulative little shit most of the time, who sometimes has second thoughts but usually pushes through for what he sees as the best outcome. And for their relationship usually what I carry over is this sense of tension or opposition between them. Hero/Villain, Angel/Demon, Human/Fae, Hunter/Vampire. This sense that they are on opposite sides, but not so different from each other when they look deeper than surface levels and titles.
They are such interesting characters. And I love them so much. They give me so much brainrot. So many ideas because they can just. Go anywhere I throw them!
I think I'll write more about them later. How I like to characterize them based on what I know about them from DSMP. Maybe rant more about why I think Q is definitely a shrike and that Magpie Wilbur is the only correct option. I feel like talking about them. I want to talk about them more.
Talk to me about them. I like hearing other people's thoughts about these fuckers.
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