#dead older sibling syndrome

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Something I think about when I'm sad:

Jake had already lost his brother and was in cryosleep on the way to Pandora.

Meanwhile, Neytiri watches her sister get shot and killed right in front of her, not knowing the love of her life is already on his way.

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Dear Brother

Kinktober Day 14: Incest Yandere brother x male reader CW: Incest, noncon, memory alteration, mind manipulation, possessive yandere, protective yandere, general yandere behavior, versatile reader, anal sex, drugging, sedatives, aphrodisiacs, collaring, murder, Stockholm syndrome, major character death, reader's own cum as lube, masturbation, discrimination against those without powers, dead dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.8k (This is dark. Sorry for any errors, I did not have it betaread. I hope there are some who will enjoy this.)

The meteor that crashed to the ground generations ago came with it a particularly invasive pathogen. A virus that infected all of humanity, changing the DNA of everyone on Earth, though a large portion of people remained asymptomatic with recessive changes.

Those with symptoms displayed mutations. They varied wildly from animal traits, elemental powers, enhanced strength, super speed, extra limbs, and many others.

Over many years, the DNA that the virus altered became increasingly prominent as mutations were inherited and compounded. Asymptomatics were rarer and rarer. Currently, they made up only 15 percent of the population.

A small portion of people used their extra human abilities for evil, and others became government sanctioned heroes to fight them.

The people who had mutations become highly sought after and fetishized. More laws came into effect to protect them from villains and criminals who would traffic them.

You were a mutationless nobody living in this society.

A brand new law had established a curfew for all people without strong enough mutations. They couldn't go out unless someone with a strong ability was with them.

Another law was that those with no abilities couldn't live alone.

Because of this, you became wholly dependent on your older brother, Drew.

Your older sibling was entirely fine with this arrangement. He had a love for you that wasn't entirely brotherly, though you didn't suspect anything. It seemed to you that his overprotective behavior was the product of being an older brother to someone without a mutation in a world that conditioned people to think of those like you as defenseless. You thought yourself fairly lucky. You weren't forced into an abusive or restrictive marriage or roommate situation because you had Drew. He was always happy to chaperone and escort you.

When he wasn't too busy with his work as a hero. Drew had moved the two of you to a small town due to a lower crime rate and desire to keep you safe and spend as much time with you as possible. It was also to isolate you from any potential suitors. But... you didn't really need to know about that... You had gotten too chummy with people online through various social media and dating websites who lived a bit too close for comfort in the large city you had lived in previously. It was getting burdensome finding them, intimidating them, burying more than one body when they wouldn't get the hint that you were spoken for. That had been rare, though.

If he really needed to, he could use a power no one knew he possessed. He could remove and replace memories. It was a tedious task, requiring a lot of time and energy, and not all minds were susceptible. Even if they were, it couldn't normally be used multiple times on the same person. Which is why he couldn't just make you forget or hate them. Luckily, most people were easily intimidated by Drew. He was tall and muscular, which was enough in some cases, but he also could move things with his mind and produce a psychic barrier around his skin to make him indestructible.

The quieter smaller town was kinda nice, but you were rather bored. Especially when Drew had to do his patrols. He made sure he worked more in the early morning and afternoon since you always liked to be up at night playing video games and going for walks at night with him. Sometimes, he'd take you out to eat at a 24/7 diner that the town had.

He thought of those outings as dates and considered himself to be courting his defenseless brother.

Your brother always ordered ice cream for you to share. Drew loved to watch you eat it, sometimes biting his lip as you so lewdly licked the cold confection from your spoon. It made his cock twitch in his pants. How he wished you were licking his manhood like that. Eager to get every drop of his cum.

The last time you were at the diner you had caught him staring at you with an odd expression.

"What's with that weird face?"

"Oh, uh... I just had a brain freeze."

You had chuckled at him and went back to eating. How he longed for the day when he could tell you how he really loved you. Hopefully it would be soon, but he just didn't know how to broach the topic.

He had let you walk in on him wanking a few times. But all it achieved was you turning red and scrambling out of the room with an immediate apology followed by you pretending that nothing had occurred. Nothing like the pornos.

The other day, you had been comfortable enough to fall asleep on the couch as the two of you watched a movie. He had been admiring your peacefully sleeping form when you slouched over and leaned on his shoulder. He could hear your breathing and felt your drool as it ran down his arm.

It gave him an instant hard-on that he had to address. You had been a busy bee and cleaned the whole house earlier before cooking dinner. You were totally wiped out. Though even on an easy day, you were known for sleeping deeply. Drew carefully shifted the shorts he had been wearing so his large cock was sticking out through the leg and cautiously jerked himself off while imaging you cuddling and clinging to him after a long day.

He had cum so hard that a bit had landed on your lips. He was worried you would wake up, but you remained out like a light as he gently massaged it into your lip like lip gloss.

After that, he had "accidentally" fallen asleep right beside you. He couldn't very well wake a sleeping angel by moving.

That had been well over a month ago, and his desire for you had only grown. He had taken to stealing your underwear and keeping a pair under his pillows so he could sniff them before bed and dream about you.

He knew one day soon he'd have you in every way.

But there was a setback.

His schedule had shifted temporarily while he was on an assignment to help take down a super villain coalition. For two weeks, he was barely home at all, and a vermin had slipped in.

He came home one day to find you on the porch chatting with some piece of absolute filth who kept brushing his hand against yours.

When he left and you came back inside, Drew was holding back serious rage. You had a look on your face that told him all you needed to know. He didn't even have to question you about who it was. You just kept gushing about him.

"That was Len! He's such a sweetie! He saw me on the porch a few days ago when he was walking by and noticed I was glum."

The way you swooned and gushed made Drew's stomach lurch.

"He's so cool! I'm sure you'll like him. He isn't a hero, but his mutation is awesome. He can spontaneously make fire."

Drew noticed you twiddling your fingers in the way you only did when you were brimming with joy. Would that piece of trash know details like that about you!?

Your brother immediately began planning for Len's demise. This was beyond intimidation, threats, and memory alteration. He lived far too close and touched your perfect weak hands with his disgusting grubby ones. Drew knew exactly how he'd do it. He'd infiltrate Len's home and use his telekinetic abilities to cause him to have a stroke. Then he'd burn the house down. It wasn't unheard of for people's mutations to run out of control.

On the night that Drew planned to end Len, you had been texting Len. Even though it was late, he had invited you over because he was playing a new game that he thought you might enjoy together. If you wanted, he'd leave the door unlocked so you could come in. He knew knocking and waiting made you anxious.

He was such a good listener. He would have come over and walked with you, but it was such a short walk, and you didn't want to wake up Drew. Besides, his house was just a few down from yours. If you ran, you could be there in under a minute. And, honestly, no one took these curfew laws seriously in small towns.

You rushed over as fast as you could and nervously opened the door and stepped inside.

"Dr-Drew? What are you-?"

The question was left unfinished as your gaze lowered to Len laying motionless at your brother's feet. Drew's eyes went wide, and his mouth agape when he noticed you. He obviously had not expected you to walk in on his activities. This was just like when you had just turned 20 and you had caught him killing your parents because they had wanted to convince you to go to an isolated island for the mutationless because they wanted you to feel normal.

He had wiped the events from your brain, made you think they had abandoned you both long ago, and finished by making you think he was the older brother so you'd accept him taking care of you a bit more easily when in reality he was a year younger.

But unlike last time, he couldn't erase Len or what you had witnessed. After doing it once, and so extensively, you were inoculated from it.

Your mind was reeling, struggling to piece together an explanation for what you were seeing. You took a few steps back, planning to just run away and hope you woke up from whatever awful nightmare this night was shaping into. But the door slammed shut before you could finish turning around.

"Y-you have to understand! He was going to steal you away... He didn't deserve you. No one does! Except me."

Drew used his abilities to make you slowly float towards him. The look on his face could only be described as deranged.

"I'm so sorry you had to see this. It was supposed to look like an accident..."

You squirmed in his psychic hold as you began sobbing. Your brain finally registered that your brother killed the man you had started to fall in love with. Nothing made sense.

Once his power brought you to him, he wrapped one arm around you tightly and used his free hand to pull a tiny spray capsule up to your face from his utility belt.

He spritzed you just once, and within a few seconds, you were fast asleep. With you taken care of for the moment, Drew could safely get back to the business at hand.

Your subconscious mind must have still been in denial because you found yourself in a dream pounding Len's muscular ass. He was riding you, and you found yourself bucking into his tight hot hole. In reality, your brother had been watching you sleep and decided to rub your crotch. He figured you needed the stress relief, and if you woke up, maybe the pleasure would prove he was just trying to make you happy.

It made sense in his warped mind.

He was originally just going to jerk you off, but when you got fully hard under his touch... he couldn't resist the urge to ride on it. Drew lubed it up and sank himself down on it. This was perfect, he thought. Your first official act as lovers. It would definitely make you forget about that sack of garbage he just took out.

The look on your face as you drooled in your sleep and let out little lewd gasps went straight to his dick and had him cumming in no time. He briefly lifted off of your cock long enough to smear his semen on it before lowering himself again.

You were fucking his cum into him and it would be mixed with your own once you climaxed. The thought made his stomach flutter as blush crept across his face.

Drew knew you were close, your moans had gotten louder and you had started bucking your hips into him. He was amazed you hadn't woken up yet. Though you had always been a deep sleeper and the stuff he sprayed you with was pretty heavy duty. Your eyes fluttered open as you shot your load inside him and moaned out the name Len.

L e n.

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Your brother, who had never raised a hand to you, slapped you hard across the face.

"That loser is DEAD!! Len is a fucking corpse smoldering in the ashes of his house!"

You were shaking as you stared up at him, still confused about what was going on. Your brain was full of fog and struggled to piece together the events that transpired last night and the fact that your brother was on your dick and angrily yelling in your face.

When he realized the fear in your eyes, he got off of you and pulled you close.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know it's not your fault. You're so innocent, and he wormed his way into your mind like the greedy parasite he was."

He kissed your cheek gently where he had struck you.

"Just... try not to say his name, okay? You gotta forget about him. It isn't healthy to linger on toxic people like that."

He got up and made his way to the bathroom connected to his room.

"I bet a bath will make us both feel a little more relaxed."

You were pretty sure that you would never be relaxed again for the rest of your life. Your brother was a villain and you had no idea what he was capable of doing to you. The sibling you had depended on killed Len, forced himself on you while you were sleeping, and slapped you.

Since he was busy making a bath, you thought you'd take the chance to leave. You pulled up your pants and crept past the bedroom door and down the stairs. When you reached the bottom, you stared in dismay at the blockade he had put in front of the door. There was no other choice but to turn around. But as you did so you slammed right into the chest of your sibling, who was staring down at you darkly.

"I just came downstairs for a sn-snack."

You were trembling and hoped he bought it. You knew he had when his face softened.

"Oh, well after our bath I'll make us a late night snack."

He grabbed you by the hand and led you back upstairs.

"This will be our first bath together! I'm really excited."

The last thing you wanted to do was to bathe with this monster. But there was no escaping it.

"Haha I guess I'm excited in more than one way!"

You glanced over and saw what he meant. His cock was fully erect.

"I-I'm too shy to bathe together!"

"Don't be silly! We're lovers now and we both really need this."

He picked you up like you weighed nothing and took you into the tub with him. He sat down and positioned you on his lap facing towards him. His erection jabbed at you from below. It made you cringe and curl in on yourself.

Despite the bubbles and warm water, you had never felt so filthy.

"You're still so tense, but big bro will make everything better~"

He groped and massaged your ass before starting to rub your hole. You flinched.

"You have to relax to make this easier."

Eventually, he pressed a finger into you.

"Please sto-"

You were cut off by involuntarily moaning as he hit a special spot inside you.

"Oh, you liked that, didn't you? Made you sound so needy~"

As he kept attending to that place inside you, working his way up to three fingers, your mind got more clouded and distracted, and your body went limp and relaxed.

"Sto-ahhh AAAHHHH!!"

Your hole clenched tightly as you spilled your load on his chest.

Before you could catch your breath he slowly replaced his fingers with his cock. Careful not to hurt you as he slowly eased you down on his entire length.

You were already hard again despite being so sensitive. His hard cock entered you with a bit of pain despite the previous stretching.

For Drew, it was bliss. Heaven. His cock was wrapped in the warm paradise that was his beloved brother. Finally, he was with you in the way his heart yearned to be. He should have just done this the second the two of you had moved out here.

The slight bit of pain you had initially felt faded at the feeling of him battering your insides. His tip perfectly kissed that spot inside you, your resolve being fucked away with each thrust.

Drew moaned your name as he came in you all too soon.

"My cum is in you. My cum is in you. My cum is in you. Mycumisinyou."

He never lost his hard on and kept right on making love to you, his precious brother, without stopping for a second. As his movements intensified, the lavender scented water splashed against the two of you.

"I-I knew I could make it all better!"

You prattled on incoherently as drool pooled from the corner of your mouth.

"You're right. We should let our actions do the talking"

Drews lips dominated yours as he kissed you deeply, nibbling on your lower lip and licking up your drool as he made out with you. As both of you came once more, he slid his tongue into your mouth and rubbed it against yours.

He pulled away and kissed your forehead. Your brain was foggy, and your body was exhausted after all you had been made to endure.

"I guess I should clean us up before the water goes completely cold. Don't worry, we can do that some more after we've rested up, okay?"

You muttered something, but you didn't know what you were saying or even what you were responding to.

That didn't stop Drew from hearing whatever he wanted to though.

"Yeah, we can still make out in bed before we fall asleep!"

Drew cleaned you off then sat you down on his bed after dressing you. Then he ran downstairs and came back up with some cookies.

"You wanted a snack right?"

You nodded sheepishly and nibbled a few to maintain the lie you told earlier. When you finished you went to brush your teeth before bed.

You couldn't look at yourself in the mirror. You were ashamed you had let your brother violate you in such a manner. You were ashamed you were brushing your teeth like it was a normal night. Maybe you could escape or call for help when he was working. It was already early in the morning. His schedule had returned to normal, and he would be back to work in a few hours. You just had to play along and get into bed with him...

The trembling of your body didn't betray your fear, Drew just assumed you were cold and held you protectively under the blankets. He stroked your side gently. It would have been comforting before you knew he was a murderer. Now, it only made you tense. Though you did manage to grab a few moments of uneasy rest.

Upon waking, you realized you were oddly calm. Tranquil. When you had finally fallen asleep, he had sprayed you with another substance from his utility belt.

This time, it was just something heroes used to calm people down. Villains and sometimes people in shock. It was pretty harmless, so if he had to keep you mildly sedated with it, he could. Though he hoped he could adjust you to your new circumstances with it and then eventually wean you off. It made you a little calmer, happier, and more accepting of your situation.

You also found yourself collared. The inside was a soft fabric and the outside a rough material. It was locked to a long chain that was mounted to the wall. You could reach the restroom and the minifridge he had by his bed. A minifridge stocked with all your favorite snacks and cold meals, a mounted chain, a custom collar in your favorite color... How long had he planned for this possibility?

There was definitely anger and grief, but they felt much more muted than they should have been.

The first year or so as your brother's boyfriend was a bit messy. Despite the calming drug, you still had emotional outbursts and anxiety. But your brother understood. He wasn't going to abandon you just because you were a bit moody or said hurtful things sometimes.

He endured and the two of you got through. It didn't hurt that he had stockpiled illegal aphrodisiacs confiscated from human traffickers. They made a target especially horny for the first person who's DNA they were exposed to. Whenever he used it, you were hard and needy to the point of crying, and only his dick could make it any better.

It was a great breakthrough when your body finally got hard from his touch without the help of any drugs at all.

And then you started kissing him and leaning on your big strong brother whenever you got lonely from your isolation. He was the only person you were allowed to have any contact with, and the craving for touch became too unbearable.

Your broken mind slowly justified it and changed your perspective on how you saw Drew. The only other option was going insane.

He was just looking out for you and keeping you safe from evil people. It was all for your own good. He took care of all of your needs. Cuddled you, kept you safe, provided you with games and food, and he was always happy to give you his cock or hole whenever you needed it, even when he was tired from work. If you had trouble sleeping, he'd even gently slip his dick into you and rock you to sleep with the thrusts.

It had, at long last, gotten to the point where he could take you outside on dates again with no fear at all that you'd try to escape him. In fact, you'd cling to his arm for dear life no matter where you went.

Drew was so happy. Now everyone could see that you two were the perfect couple.

[moonilit]

He would wear it! And look like the most one alive-

I just think kaeya would be very excited… for diluc wedding

[3hks]

Family Dynamics to Substitute for Dead Parents II

Does your character need something other than dead parents? How many orphans have you created at this point? Writing a family might seem like a hassle, but they're definitely worth it--after all, most everyone can relate to familial struggles, and they're one of the greatest character builders!

✒ "Responsible Sibling" - The case where the older sibling (typically) steps up to act as the guardian for their younger sibling(s).

✒ "More Stepparents" - Where one parent is gone and the other continuously brings home "a new parent". It seems fine after one--or even two stepparents--but by the fourth one, it becomes a huge problem.

✒ "Middle Child Syndrome" - When no one in the family particularly cares about the child, letting them do as they please. It's sometimes a good thing and sometimes not.

✒ "Helicopter Parent" - The opposite of the previously mentioned idea. This is where the parent(s) is so overprotective of their child that it becomes controlling and suffocating.

✒ "Ever-so-slightly Toxic" - Where the parent(s) are usually pretty normal, but occasionally get a bit toxic, confusing the character about whether to believe their guardian or not.

✒ "Picture Perfect Family" - A family that looks perfect to the outside world but could not be more flawed in reality (distanced, abusive, toxic, etc.).

✒ "Two-faced Parent" - A situation where the parent(s) hate their child, but their child has no clue. Great for (painful) dramatic irony!

✒ "Family Pressure" - When the character feels overwhelmed by the pressure to do well for their family. The stress could be directly or indirectly formed by their guardian(s).

✒ "You're a Disappointment" - The case where the parent(s) is always disappointed in their child, letting them know through subtle, double-sided, and passive-aggressive comments.

✒ "Exploiter" - Where the parent(s) raise a child purely to use them later on. (For money, to look good, etc.)

✒ "Influencer Parent" - The parent(s) is obsessed with social media, filming anything and everything, including their own children.

✒ "Parent(s) with Dementia/Alzheimer's" - If you're looking for (usually non-toxic) PAIN, this is definitely the one here... It's incredibly difficult to watch someone you admire turn into someone who struggles to recognize you.

✒ "Distanced" - A situation where the family is so distanced that it might as well be a bunch of strangers living in the same home.

Happy writing~

3hks :)

[humanpurposes]

Sweet Dream

The Sandman AU

Her father means to summon and capture Death, but ends up with the wrong sibling. She becomes fascinated with their prisoner // Main Masterlist

Dream!Aemond x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, spells n shit, mild gore, death, lowkey Lima syndrome, smut

Words: 8000

A/n: For my fellow Morpheus and Aemond lovers. Also available to read on AO3.

Roderick Burgess had always been a terrifying man. In grief he has only become more irritable and less predictable. 

The telegram came in the early days of July. She delivered the news to Roderick herself, while he was in his study. Her father did not like to be disturbed and he might have beaten her to remind her of the fact, until those fateful words slipped from her mouth. “Randall’s dead.” Shot down by a German machine gun at the Somme. In the end he had been one of thousands, his body buried in a neat line of tombstones somewhere in France, his name engraved on a plaque in the church at Wych Cross, ultimately unremarkable and indistinguishable from the other men and boys who had lost their lives.

But it was not so for Roderick. He let out a sudden groan and clutched his chest as though his pain was tangible and terrible. He shed no tears– of course he didn’t, but he gritted his teeth, crying out in fury as he dashed his hands over his desk, sending papers, books, fountain pens and empty whisky glasses tumbling to the floor. 

She stood frozen, waiting for his hand to descend on her for being the one to tell him, but it didn’t.

When they held a memorial service for him, Roderick handed her a piece of paper, to read before the crowd of faces she didn’t recognise. 

“Randall was our family’s happiness. He was the bravest, the wisest, and kindest older brother I could possibly dream of having.” Her hands and voice trembled as she read because she knew it was all a lie. In truth, Randall was like their father. They had the same short temper, the same stubbornness and the same cruelty. 

But Randall being dead meant she could reinvent him.

Lately, she dreams of happier memories and looks back on them fondly, knowing they can never be contradicted or disproved. 

While her father has dreamt of Death ever since. 

It’s a brisk afternoon in October when a man in a suit, bow tie and bowler hat arrives at Fawny Rig. He clutches a leather briefcase in front of him and introduces himself as Dr John Hathaway, a curator from the Royal Museum, travelled all the way from London to this quiet corner of East Sussex. She leads him through the panelled halls of the manor, to her father’s study.

Roderick barges in behind them, in a shirt and waistcoat, already smelling faintly of whisky and waving his cane in her general direction. “Tea for our guest,” he orders.

She has the pot ready and strains the dark, reddish liquid into two delicate china cups while her father and Dr Hathaway settle on opposing leather sofas in the centre of the room.

“I take it you have reconsidered?” Roderick says.

“After our meeting at the museum… I know what I said, but–” Dr Hathaway takes an unsure breath. “I received a telegram this morning. My son, Edmund, his destroyer was sunk last week off Jutland.”

It’s a loss Roderick can share, even if he doesn’t really understand how other than a few quick words of condolence. “I lost my son, Randall last year. He was my greatest joy.”

She pauses as she reaches for the sugar bowl. She has never been under the illusion that her own existence has given her father any joy, but then what sort of person would she have to be to earn his respect? She places the sugar on a tray, along with the small jug of milk and the cups, and brings them to the small table between the sofas. The pair don’t spare her a word of thanks or even a brief glance.

Dr Hathaway’s hand lingers on the clasp of his case. “If I give you this, could you truly do it? Could you really–”

“Capture the angel of Death?” Roderick says. “I believe I could.”

She shudders unexpectedly. The old groundskeeper used to say a sudden chill meant someone was walking over your grave.

Dr Hathaway clicks open the clasp and takes out an aged, leather bound book. It has no title on the cover, just gold markings in square, geometric patterns. 

“The Magdalene Grimoire,” her father mutters, his eyes wide in an ominous sort of wonder. “With the spells recorded in the book, we will see our sons returned to us.”

The next night is a full moon. She stands by the door with Sykes, welcoming men and women dressed in midnight blue robes to the manor and directing them towards the door that leads to the cellar. They’re all part of Roderick’s ‘Order of Ancient Mysteries’ which as far as she can tell is a cult of fanatics who still believe in witchcraft. They come to Fawny Rig once a month, to listen to her father read from so-called ‘spell books’ as though he is a preacher.

The fanatics pull hoods over their heads and descend the narrow stone steps into the cellar with lit candles grasped in their hands. Roderick leads the way, the book Dr Hathaway gave him tucked under his arm. 

She shoots Sykes a concerned frown but he just shrugs. He’s paid to organise the household and guard Burgess’ collection of relics, not to ask questions. Questions are a dangerous game with Roderick.

She trails after them and shuts the iron lock on the door behind her.

The cellar is more like a crypt, an expansive room sprawling under the house, held up by pillars and arches. In the low candlelight she makes out a set of markings on the floor in the heart of the room and this is where the Order of Ancient Mysteries gathers.

The shapes and symbols are unfamiliar to her, painted onto the flagstones, twisting and curling over each other to form a circle. Roderick stands at the very edge of it by a brass lectern.

She watches, half hidden behind a pillar as they stand around the circle and Roderick opens the book, his desired page already marked and studied in the hours since it has been in his possession. 

“Tonight,” her father says to his congregation, “we will achieve what no one before us has attempted. We will summon and imprison Death.”

His eyes meet hers through the shadowy space, heavy and sunken with age, grief and months worth of sleepless nights. They glisten slightly too. 

He holds his hands out and looks down at the markings on the floor. “Here, in the darkness.”

The others echo his words, softly and melodically at first. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

And so the ritual begins.

“I give you a coin made from a stone,” Roderick says, presenting the object to the ceiling as though the eyes of God are looking down from the heavens, through the house and the earth, and drops it to the floor, inside the circle of markings.

“I give you a knife from under the hills.” He holds up a thin blade and lifts his other arm so the sleeve of his robe drops to his elbow. “I give you the blood from out of my vein.”

She winces but does not look away as he draws the knife along the skin of his forearm, until dark droplets begin to fall and stain the markings. 

“I give you a song I stole from the dirt and I give you a feather,” he says, raising a white feather that almost seems to glow through the gloom, “pulled from an angel’s wing.”

And all the while the voices persist. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

He drops the feather and it drifts gently down, landing in the very heart of the circle. 

The room is still and she holds her breath.

The feather starts to move. It twists in a circle and floats up, lurching and turning as though it’s being blown about by a breeze she cannot feel or hear.

The voices raise to an urgent chant. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

She clenches her fingertips against the stone of the pillar. She tries to meet her father’s eye again but he is fixated on the feather flying above their heads.

He calls over the chanting, “I summon you with poison,” and the moment he does the feather flickers like the striking of a match. “I summon you with pain! I open the way! I open the gates! I summon you in the name of the old Lords, we summon you together! Come!”

A noise, like a cracking whip splits her ears. The feather bursts into white and golden flames like the flash of a camera. The heat of it rushes over her face and burns her eyes.

And from the flames a body falls to the floor.

It thuds as it hits the ground, silencing the voices save for a few gasps and murmurs. She feels the flagstones rumble under her feet, sees the edges of a black cloak spilling across the floor and a head of long silver hair trailing from its head.

This isn’t an illusion. Roderick Burgess has brought forth a tangible entity, plucked from God-knows-where, lying motionless on the floor. For a moment she wonders if he is dead, until she sees a slight movement in his chest, but even then she fears she could be imagining it.

She takes a few unsure steps to where Roderick stands and the man– he is a man as far as she can tell– is further revealed to her. She can see his face now, his pale skin, the angles of his jaw and cheeks, the curve of his lips, but beyond that she finds herself unable to look away from the jewel that sits where his left eye should be. It is a bright, deep shade of blue and dotted with silver specs, like the vast expanse of twilight when the stars are out but the sky is not quite black. The eye is framed by twisted, red flesh and a scar, slicing from his brow to his cheek. It takes her a moment to realise his other eye, closer to the ground, is closed. 

The only other parts of him she can see are the tips of his fingers, clasped around a small pouch.

“Is this… Death?” she utters.

“That remains to be seen,” Roderick says. He points to the pouch. “Get that for me.”

She stares back at her father. How he can speak so flippantly when a man has been conjured, seemingly from thin air, is beyond her. But he glares back, his dark expression only more formidable with his aged frown.

So she steps forward and begins to lower herself beside the man.

“Careful, girl!” Roderick barks, “don’t break the binding circle.”

She stops and looks down, where her skirt is inches from brushing over the markings on the floor. She shuffles back and, with trembling fingers, reaches for the pouch. It’s not hard to take, the man hardly resists, twitching his fingers to keep it in his grasp. It feels wrong, stealing from someone too weak to hold onto what is his.

She looks into the jewel-like eye. Can he see through it? Perhaps it has something to do with the scar? Did he place it there himself, or was he simply made this way?

Someone snatches the pouch from her. She looks up at her father as he undoes the strings and peers inside. “Sand,” he mutters, and stows it away inside his robes.

“And the jewel,” he says to her.

She means to protest, but finds she cannot.

She avoids the markings as she leans forwards. She presses her fingertips beside the man’s eye. His skin is cold and firm.

She swallows her guilt and the nauseous feeling in her throat, nudging her fingertips into the socket. It takes her a few attempts, but she pries the jewel free, wincing when she feels it come loose. If he feels any pain he hardly shows it. His brow furrows but his other eye remains closed, and he makes no sound.

She stands and offers the jewel to her father.

Roderick holds it to the light of one of the candles, giving a curious hum before he pockets that too.

“Move,” he mutters to her, pushing her out of his way as he stands over the man. He tugs on the black cloak and it falls into fragments that fade away, like dust on a breeze. The man’s body is bare, pale skin running over details of muscle and bone. He shivers and twitches like he has a fever, but still he does not speak, or even let out a breath.

“We’ll let our guest recover,” Roderick says, “and then we shall make our demands.

They leave him there for days. He does not move, or ask for food or water.

She doesn’t dream in the nights since they captured their ‘guest’. In fact she hardly sleeps at all. Each morning she wakes, already exhausted, having felt like she’s only closed her eyes for a few brief moments.

Then come the stories in the newspapers. They call it ‘the sleeping sickness’. People all over the country, and in fact the world, have been plagued, either to not sleep at all or never wake up.

On a cold, drizzly morning, a stranger appears at the door to the manor.

She listens and watches from the top of the stairs, crouching by the bannister to stay out of sight as a man with choppy silver hair and pale skin strides into the entrance hall, with Roderick following closely behind.

“Do I know you?” her father asks, furiously.

“No.” The stranger’s voice is low and almost seductive. “But I know all about you, Roderick Burgess, and the being trapped in your basement.”

“You mean to intimidate me?”

She sees a flash of a grin and a pair of pale purple eyes through the wooden balusters.

“I am here to help you,” the stranger says. “There are benefits to keeping one of the Targaryens in your confinement.”

“Targaryens?” her father echoes.

“Did you think Death was the only one of her kind? Death has family. Destiny, Despair, Desire…”

“And who have I got?”

“Dream,” the stranger says with a smile that bares his teeth.

A shiver runs over her shoulders. She keeps her jaw tight to stop herself from reacting to it.

Roderick scoffs. “What good is a God who governs dreams?”

The stranger's voice darkens. “There was a saying in the ancient times of humanity, that said the Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. But they are not Gods. They are more than Gods. They are Endless.”

He tells Roderick of Dream’s vestments, the pouch of sand and his sapphire, both of which he says Roderick may manipulate for his own influences. He says the binding circle will not be enough to contain their prisoner, that they must construct a sphere of glass within the circle.

Most crucially of all, he says no one must be allowed to fall asleep in Dream’s presence.

“Why are you helping me?” Roderick finally asks.

The stranger runs his tongue over his teeth and smiles to himself. “Little family dispute, I shan’t bore you with the details. But for your sake, and for mine, he must not escape.”

He offers his hand to Roderick, who returns the gesture after a moment of hesitation.

Before he heads for the door, the stranger’s eyes trail up to where she hides. Her heart leaps with a sense of dread, like she’s seen something she wasn’t meant to. 

She doesn’t trust him, not by the look or sound of him, but her father does. He follows the stranger’s instructions, ordering the construction of the glass sphere, to be welded around their prisoner as it is made. Finally, he arranges a rota of guards to keep watch over him, under strict orders to never fall asleep, lest their prisoner escape into their dreams.

The details of his face are etched into her memory, even after months, the angle of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip, the silver falling over his shoulders. If she could dream, she is sure she would dream of him. Instead she holds onto the flashes of images that appear before her waking eyes, the pale skin of his bare body against the floor, the stars in his sapphire eye, now kept locked away in her father’s study.

She knows Roderick has tried to bargain with him, and each time he returns from the cellar more furious than when he entered it. “He will not speak a word!” his voice bellows through the quiet halls of the manor. “He will not even look at me!”

When she dares to ask questions, Roderick glares at her and tightens the grip on his cane.

The stranger with silver hair was right about something, wealth and admiration have come to Roderick Burgess in droves since he acquired the Lord of Dreams. It’s something about the sapphire, or the sand, something she doesn’t understand, but their family comes across good fortunes, which is almost entirely spent on lavish parties to entertain Roderick’s ever expanding crowd of admirers.

She wakes with the sunrise, from a void and dreamless sleep. The manor is littered with empty bottles, full ashtrays, plates of half-eaten food, odd shoes and playing cards. Her father must still be asleep, which is odd. He is usually an early riser, even after a night of drinking.

A rumbling in her stomach has her heading through the entrance hall towards the kitchen, but she stops when she sees two men waiting by the door to the cellar– two of the guards her father has hired to watch the prisoner, dressed in smart suits with service revolvers just poking out of their jackets. They look restless, peering their heads round corners, shifting their weight on their legs, not wanting to step too far from the door.

“We can’t just leave,” one mutters to the other.

“I’m not staying down there with that… thing one second longer than I have to–”

“Good morning,” she calls.

They look at her in unison, and frown.

“Have you seen Noel and Mauirce?” one of the men asks. “They’re nearly half an hour late.”

The rotation of the guards. They take eight hour shifts in pairs.

Her eyes glance to the cellar door, opened only a fraction. “I could watch him until they get here,” she says, “if you want to leave.”

It doesn’t take them long to agree.

They leave through the front door. When she hears it shut, she finally lets herself reach for the handle to the cellar door. The handle is cold, untouched for hours at a time, and a little stiff. She pushes on it slowly, carefully, making as little noise as possible. 

With the cellar door closed, she shuts out the light and warmth of the morning. A silent, icy draft drifts through the narrow stairway. She follows it down, all the way to the dull, eerie light of the main chamber.

The sight takes her breath away, the glass sphere, suspended above the ground, still within the circle of markings that keep his power contained.

He sits in the centre, still bare, his knees tucked into his chest and his hair falling around his face like a veil.

As far she knows, no food or water ever passes the threshold to the cellar, and the cage is never opened. How does he breathe? How does he eat? How does he not wither away? He just sits there, stoic, his face frozen in time like a statue, like the image of a god cut from marble, to be preserved and admired.

A man like that cannot be real, and yet there he is.

“Hello,” she says. 

He does not react to her voice or the sound of her footsteps as she walks further into the chamber.

If he can even hear her. She wonders how thick the glass is, if sound can permeate it, or does he just hear the sound of his own breath echoed back to him, endlessly.

She comes to lean against one of the pillars, tracing her fingertips down the cold, rough surface of the stone.

“Are you really the Lord of dreams?” she says. 

His gaze lifts and turns to her, just enough that she can see his chin, his nose, and a single violet eye. It is not like the stranger’s, it is far more vibrate, burning with with a silent fury that makes her heart flutter and her skin feel tight.

“I have not dreamt since that night.”

She knows it isn’t just her. It’s the sleeping sickness, the war, the cloud of darkness looming over the rest of the world.

“The groundskeeper has a son, he’s only ten years old. He’s been asleep for months now. He can’t even eat. If he doesn’t wake up, he’ll die.”

He does not react, but his eye follows her as she takes a single step away from the pillar, towards the sphere.

“This is my father’s– our doing, yes?”

Her eyes dip to his chest, to the movement of his lungs underneath skin and muscle, a steady rise and fall with a deep, patient breath. 

“My father is a reasonable man, if you could give him something, anything, I am sure he would let you out.”

He tilts his head, until she can just see the point of his scar on his cheek and the edge of his empty eye socket.

He is simultaneously the most terrifying and most beautiful thing she has ever laid eyes upon. The low light only accentuates the harsh angles in his face, the ridges and lines in the muscles and tendons of his neck, torso, arms and legs.

She takes another step closer. “I would let you out, if I could,” she says quietly, like a secret.

He blinks softly, and when her eyes flicker to his lips she sees them curled into something almost like a smile, but not quite. 

“Oh you would, would you?”

Her blood runs cold at the sound of her father’s voice. She whips her head around just in time to see Roderick marching towards her with his hand reaching out. His fist grips at her hair, and when she yelps in pain he hisses at her to be quiet. He drags her back up the steps, away from the cold cellar, to the warmth and the light, to the world without dreams.

She bathes before dinner, wincing as she runs her hands over the fresh bruises that mark her skin. Most of them are red, others are set deep and already turning a greyish purple. 

Her father’s fury still rings in her ears. “Stupid girl! If he escapes he will slaughter us all!”

Leaning on her back is especially painful, it’s where her body took the brunt of his cane. She brings her knees into her chest, hunching over herself.

She hasn’t cried over her father’s cruelty in years, not since she was a small child. He’d always call her weak for it. Randall never cried when he was disciplined, because he knew, deep down, it was good for him. Perhaps she is simply not as strong as Randall was.

Her tears are hot and stinging in her eyes. She blinks and lets them fall onto her knees, to become the dew that lingers on her skin.

“Do you want to die, girl? Because it can be easily remedied!”

She doesn’t wear anything special, a white satin dress, with long, billowy sleeves, and applies some rouge to her cheeks, to make her seem more awake, more alive.

She reaches the bottom of the staircase as the clock in the entrance hall starts to chime. Five times. Marking the start of another shift rotation. 

Two men appear from the hall that leads from the cellar, vaguely nodding as they pass her.

She can see into the dining room from the stairs, an enormous table set with silver cutlery and china plates, for just two of them.

The door to her father’s study is closed, obstructing the voices within. He’s arguing with someone. 

Before she can stop herself, she’s walking towards the cellar. She tries the handle to find it unlocked. With one final look to the door to the study, she descends back into the darkness.

Two guards sit on wooden chairs by the entrance from the stairway, and immediately stand to attention as she walks into the chamber.

“Miss,” one of them calls, “you cannot be here.”

And she seems to have caught his attention too. He looks up from where he sits in the sphere, his forearm resting on his knee. His hair is pushed from his face, and his violet eye is wide, curious.

“This is my father’s house, I will go where I please,” she says, shakily, continuing until she comes face to face with the glass.

He stares at her, somewhat furious, but in a way she knows it is not meant for her.

The men behind her are muttering to each other, she doesn’t hear their words, but she hears their panic.

“It isn’t right for him to keep you here,” she says. “It isn’t right for him to think he can play with mortality. And I am as bad as he is for letting this happen.”

The tendons of his hand flex as he clenches his fist, his fingers restless as he stares at her, intently.

“If I let you out,” she whispers, “would you harm me?”

His face softens as his eye moves over her face. 

He’s studying her, she realises. She imagines him noting the curves of her cheeks and chin, the shape of her mouth, perhaps the faint teartracks and the dark circles under her eyes.

What does he make of her, the daughter of his captor, the one who pried the sapphire from his eye? Roderick could be right, he might slaughter her the moment he is free from his cage. 

“I would like to believe that you wouldn’t,” she says.

His expression gives nothing away.

Suddenly he shifts. His muscles tense as he comes to his feet and uncurls his spine to stand before her. Something about his movements are distinctly inhuman.

The guards behind her are shouting now, telling her to step away, calling for Mr Burgess. Their voices are inconsequential to her, muffled as though spoken behind a closed door. Her heart pounds in her ears. All she sees is him, the intense gaze of his eye, a wide palm reaching out and pressing against the glass.

She reaches up slowly, his eye growing wider with every inch she comes closer to touching the glass that separates them, but not quite meeting it.

His brow furrows as if to question her. Why are you hesitating? What are you afraid of?

She won’t be dragged upstairs again. She won’t be thrown to the floor with nowhere else to go. She will not suffer at the hands of Roderick Burgess any longer.

So she presses her hand to the glass.

Her skin is feverishly cold, her arms weightless. She can almost feel the shape of his palm through the glass, but not quite, like she is reaching for something she will never touch, clawing to the memory of a dream.

She can feel herself slipping into numbness, her eyes and her limbs becoming heavy. She presses her fingernails against the glass, silently pleading though she doesn’t know what for. An escape? An end? Anything.

His face is strangely gentle as he pouts his lips, hushing her, lulling her panic. She can feel her breathing and her heartbeat slowing, but it does not frighten her.

The glass shatters, her knees give way. She is awake enough to know she is falling, but too far gone to stop herself.

But she does not need to.

The world around her is silent– no, a gentle breeze drifts over her skin and whispers in her ear. Sunlight beams onto one side of her face and the other rests against bare skin. She feels a weight around her waist, something propping her body upright.

She tries to steady herself but the ground shifts beneath her. The arms around her only tighten their grip when she stumbles.

Finally she lets her eyes flutter open. They are in a desert, a vast expanse of dry sand, reaching as far as the eye can see.

Her head is moving with his breath, against his chest.

She tilts her gaze up, close enough that her lips barely brush over the base of his throat.

His eye is already fixed on her, holding her firmly in his arms, pulling her into him.

Wordlessly, he releases one arm from her waist, and reaches down, keeping his eye on her face. When he brings himself back up, she looks at his closed fist, where sand slips from between his fingers. 

Her confusion must be visible on her face because he smiles softly at her, letting out a low “hmm” as he does.

She means to blink, but when she opens her eyes the world has changed again.

She lies face down against the ground of the cellar, dust and dirt pressing into her cheek, broken glass littering the floor around her.

She blinks again through the haze of sleep still clouding her vision. She makes out a figure in a long black coat with silver hair falling down his back. He stands over two bodies, lying lifeless on the ground, and stalks towards another.

Roderick is at the base of the stairs. He raises his cane and cries out as the prisoner reaches into his coat.

Her father’s voice fades into a spluttering, retching sound. Then he is silent. His body slumps to the floor with a gut-wrenching thud. When the stranger walks away, she sees her father sprawled out on the floor, blood spurting from his throat, seeping into his shirt, pooling on the floor around him.

She pushes herself up, leaning on her hands as her vision is blocked once again by a black coat. He stands over her, blood dripping from a knife he holds in his hand, his eye a brighter shade of violet than it was before.

He kneels beside her, taking her chin in his fingertips.

“Are you hurt?” he says. His voice is a hypnotic blend of soft and harsh, low and light, chilling in a way that sends a wave of warmth through her stomach.

She looks past his shoulder, where Roderick’s skin is turning from white to grey. “What did you do to my father?” she utters.

He jerks her head back to him. His expression is dark, lips upturned into a sneer.

Does he expect her to be grateful?

“My tools,” he says.

“You’re… what?”

“My tools. The sapphire and the pouch.”

The items that were stolen from him, that her father has now paid for with blood.

“Are you going to kill me too?” she says, digging her fingertips into the stone and the shards of glass beneath her.

He tilts his head and his lips twitch in a flicker of movement. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Tell me where they are. I will not harm you.”

Three men lay dead mere feet from them, and yet she finds herself wanting to trust him.

He offers her his arm as she stands, gripping at the thick, leather sleeve. Her palms are covered in small cuts from the glass, droplets of bright red blood pearling at the edges. He takes her wrists in his hands to have a look and tuts to himself.

“Quickly,” he says, moving towards the steps, leading her along with him, past the bodies of the guards, and the body of her father.

She brings him to the study, her hands shaking, bloody and outstretched before her. The door is wide open, a stack of papers thrown carelessly to the floor.

Roderick’s safe sits in a black cabinet in the corner of the room. She uses her fingertips to open it, wincing at the pieces of glass still stuck in her skin, but she swallows down the pain.

She guesses the combination on the first try. 1895– Randall’s birth year.

There, in the centre shelf, above the Grimoire, below a stack of banknotes, is the pouch of sand and the sapphire.

He reaches for the gem first. She turns away as he fixes it back into his socket, remembering the weight of it in her palm when she took it from him. She sees him reach forward again, but not for the pouch. He takes a hold of her wrists.

With no magic words or spells, he waves a hand over her palms. For a moment she sees a glow in his sapphire eye. The pain vanishes, so does the blood, the glass and the dirt. 

She blinks a few effortless tears from her eyes. Tears for her father, tears of relief, she cannot place a cause.

Cold fingertips meet her skin once more, as the Lord of Dreams wipes her tears away, bringing her gaze to meet his.

He leans in closer, until his forehead meets hers. “Sleep,” he whispers.

She falls into him, to find herself wide awake, clinging onto him as she had done in the desert.

But they are somewhere else entirely. The sky above them is a pale yellow, like daybreak, painted with swirling grey clouds. The land here is… dead. Dead trees, barren mountains and hills, and in the distance, beyond a dried lake, is a castle of red brick, decrepit, falling into ruin.

“You see the damage that has been done to my realm?” he says. With her ear pressed against his chest, his voice is cavernous and she feels everything, the way his words drag through his throat. She feels his pain at being confined, the loss of his home and his creations.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“I do not forgive easily, that is why Roderick Burgess had to die. But you…” he pulls away from her so he might look at her properly, cupping the sides of her face and swiping his thumbs over her cheeks. “I do not need an apology from you. We are free of him now.”

“Is that what you think I wanted?” 

He hums with tight lips. “I have seen your dreams, as I see the dreams of every mortal. I see them as clearly as you perceive the waking world. It just so happened that our dreams coincided.”

She had never dreamt of her father’s death and she had certainly never imagined that she might have played a part in it. But she cannot deny the weight now lifted from her shoulders. She will never have to earn his approval, she will never have to endure him again. She is free of him.

“Go now,” he says, “I am sure you have your own business to resolve.”

He releases his hold of her and brings his hands behind his back. As he walks towards the castle the world around her starts to fade. She can smell the musk of the manor, the lingering smoke of her father’s cigars, the distinct scent of a winter evening.

“Wait!” she calls.

The ends of his coat swish around his legs as he turns back to face her. “Yes?” he says, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile.

“I want to know your name.”

“I have had many names,” he says.

“And how would you have me know you?”

“Aemond,” he says.

She echoes his name, letting her mouth linger on the final syllable. “Will I see you again?”

He draws the tip of his tongue between his lips. “Perhaps,” he says.

When she wakes she is laid out on one of the leather sofas of her father’s study. She looks down at her hands, traces her fingertips down her face, now free of the dirt and dust. 

She wonders if she might have dreamt all of it, the beautiful man in the sphere, the glass breaking, her father’s blood on the floor…

Her life is never the same after that. With her father dead, his estate passes to her. For the first time, her life is hers to do with as she pleases.

And yet she feels an absence, a hollow longing in her chest.

Her dreams come back to her since she set him free, and each night she dreams of him.

He only appears in brief moments, like lighting, bright and brilliant, but gone in a heartbeat, before she can truly see him. She sees the movement of a leather coat, flashes of silver, violet and sapphire blue. Sometimes she is met with darkness as a pair of lips ghosts over her neck with a contented sigh and a warm breath.

She cannot bear it.

As she lies in the empty manor house, she traces her fingers over her body, her lips, down her neck and her chest, underneath her cotton nightgown, to her navel and the pool of wanting wetness between her legs, trying to imagine they are his. 

She pictures the way his hair fell around his face, the coldness of his skin, the curve of his lips. She imagines them parting in a small sigh, the sound of his breath, the way his chest hummed as she circles over her bundle of nerves. Pleasure sparks at first but it keeps slipping from her grasp.

She circles faster, harder, searching for a spot that will finally give her the release she craves.

She feels heat and a sheen of sweat settling on the surface of her skin, her breathing hitches, her hips twitch under her touches. The pleasure heightens, then fades.

With her eyes tightly shut, she spurs herself on with thoughts of him, breathlessly chanting his name into the empty space and cold air of her bedroom.

“Aemond… Aemond…”

Something changes.

The mattress shifts beneath her and a weight presses against her body, her legs, her stomach, her chest.

A hand clasps around hers, ceasing her movements, and bringing it to rest by her side.

She laments the loss of the friction against her bud, her pleasure pulled away from her, but in its place anticipation blooms within her.

When she opens her eyes he is above her, against her, hovering his face over hers so that all she sees are his eyes, one violet, one sapphire.

“You have my attention,” he says in a soft but unsettling voice.

A thrill ripples through her body.

She whispers his name on an exhale of breath, running her fingertips over his arms, tense and toned as his props himself over her. 

But she is somewhat dazed, her senses numbed by fatigue and the echo of the pleasure she had been chasing.

“Is this real?” she utters.

Aemond leans further into her. She feels a weight between her hips and an unmistakable hardness prodding at her centre as he brings his lips to her neck, pressing a slow, teasing kiss against a sensitive spot of skin that has her body tensing and her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Does if feel real?” he whispers against her skin.

How much has he truly seen of her dreams, her desires, she wonders? Perhaps she should feel some kind of shame, but she cannot, not when she is on the precipice of something bright, beautiful and damning. She can hardly stand being on the edge of it, having him so close but not close enough.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he teases her with his lips, crosses her legs around his hips, meeting his movements as he torturously grinds his hardening cock against her cunt, dripping with arousal, twitching and clenching around nothing at the anticipation.

“Needy little thing,” he mutters, dragging his nose along her neck as he comes to kiss the hollow of her throat.

His voice sends a shockwave through her body. Her hips buck against his, determined for relief as her fingers thread through the soft strands of his hair, and tug. 

He lets out a quiet growl against her skin. A hand rests upon her thigh and trails up, bunching the hem of her nightgown to her waist and adjusting the other side. 

He sits back, watching her with the same darkness and intensity as when he was trapped inside the cage, intrigued at the least, fascinated if she is presumptive. 

The irony of being laid half bare before him and at his mercy does not escape her.

“I’ve heard you crying out for me, little mortal,” he says. 

“You said you can see my dreams,” she says, “how?”

“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he says, “in The Dreaming. I see your dreams as I see the dreams of every other being. I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world. But you…” he muses, settling his hands on either side of her waist. “You are incessant.”

She shivers and writhes under his touch, a pulsing heat settling within her.

She traces her hands over his, where they grip at her waist, along his smooth skin, the tendons and veins. His fingers are long and lithe. She knows they would feel so perfect, wrapped around her throat, stroking over her skin, pushing inside of her wet heat to coax her pleasure.

Aemond smiles to himself as though he can hear her thoughts.

He grips harder into her flesh and pulls his hips back, only to let his cock slide over her slick folds with teasingly gentle thrusts.

Every stroke pushes her closer and closer to the edge, but not enough to find release. She feels the frustrating want pulsing through her body, the coil getting tighter and tighter, her cunt clenching over nothing.

“Aemond…” she says with a breathless mewl, “please…”

“You really want it, don’t you?” Aemond growls, resting his forehead against hers. “Just feel how wet that empty little cunt is for me.”

Her eyes trail along the angles of his face, the line of his scar, the night sky in his eyes as he stares down at her, the gentle curve of his lips and how they settle into a soft expression. 

Her gaze slips further down, over his throat, his collar, his pale, bare chest, the ridges of the muscles on his abdomen, the slight dip in his waist, the trail of silver hair to his cock, long, hard and flushed with need, transfixed by the way it moves against her.

She holds her breath each time he withdraws, stifling her whines into his mouth when he only keeps teasing her.

“I want it,” she groans, “I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

He lets out a contented hum as he leans down to kiss her. The movements of his mouth are slow and consuming, claiming her with lips, tongue and teeth, wetness and warmth.

She holds him close by the sides of his face. In his violet eye she sees his hunger, his rage, his lust. In his sapphire, she sees oblivion. 

And finally, he eases himself into her. 

He fucks her delicately, dragging his cock through her gently, slowly, deeply. His lips ghost over her skin, her temple, her cheek, back to her mouth with light kisses and strained but soft breaths. 

With a few deft circles over her bud she feels herself come undone around him. Her climax burns through her and she holds him closer for purchase, digging her fingertips into his skin as her resolve melts and her legs tremble around his hips.

Aemond doesn’t stop. He holds her against the mattress with a determined grip, fucking her through her peak until her pleasure settles and simmers once more.

Being kissed by him, held by him, fucked by him feels light a dream, that weightless, numb feeling of being between consciousness and sleep coursing through her limbs. It feels good, it feels deep, it feels perfect.

She cannot be sure how many climaxes he draws from her, she just feels him, his heat, his hands and his skin as he repositions her legs, guides her onto her front, brings her up to her knees, pushes her back down again, until she is a blissful, mindless mess.

He meets his own end when he has her face down on the bed, her face turned to the side against the pillow, his mouth on the underside of her jaw as he pounds into her. 

“You’re doing so well,” she hears him rasp, “you’ve been so good to me… fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Her mind is beyond words and coherent thoughts. She utters the only thing she feels, the only thing she can think of, “Aemond… Aemond… Aemond…”

He stills his hips against her rear with a guttural moan, pressing his face against hers, squeezing her waist under his hands. He allows himself a few more shallow thrusts until he is spent. She feels his cock pulse within her, a warmth pooling, his spend dripping from her cunt once he has pulled away.

The weight dissipates from her back and for a moment she lies there, basking in the afterglow, feeling her chest rise and fall against the bed, the softness of her sheets under her fingertips.

She wakes to a gentle breeze running over her skin and slipping down her spine.

She allows her eyes to flutter open and recoils at the pale sunlight beaming through the spaces in the curtains. 

She holds her breath.

She hears no sound or sign of life other than her own pulse. 

She twists herself to sit up, noting that her bedsheets are neat and the hem of her nightgown is where it should be. 

Is it possible that she dreamed it? She remembers it so vividly, but the mind has a way of playing tricks. Perhaps it was only a dream.

“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he had said. “I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world.”

How do we determine what is real? she wonders as she pulls on a robe and goes to open the curtains. The morning floods her bedroom. It brings no warmth, but it brings light and life back into the room. 

To dream is to live beyond ourselves, why should that be any less true than the world around me? 

She seats herself before her vanity, reaching for the drawer for her hairbrush.

But something catches her eye, a glint of colour against mahogany wood, a small gem catching the sunlight.

She takes it between her thumb and index finger and brings it before her eyes; a sapphire, the size of a pearl, a deep and vibrant blue. Its edges are uneven and dull, uncut, as though plucked straight from the earth. 

She turns it about between her fingers. It could be a trick of the light, but there is depth to it, a vastness within. The sapphire seems to capture the night sky, dotted with glimmering stars.

His was the same.

As the dazed state of sleep wears off, she feels the satisfied ache between her legs, the spots on her skin marked by him. She smiles to herself and holds the gem in her palm, this precious gift, this reminder, this promise from the Lord of Dreams.

Tags (comment to be added)

Sweet Dream taglist: @solisarium @sirenangelroyal @sabrinasstar @shygardengalaxy @aemondsfavouritebastard @wintrr13 @thedamewithabook @lexwolfhale @rainyforest777

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

[fxtalitygod]

VII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentioned pedophilia, child molestation, attempted child sexual assault, mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies, slight misogynistic themes (if you squint).

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Soooooo... this is the shortest chapter I've ever written, but it wasn't my intention. To be honest, I kept becoming unhappy with the results and kept going back to fix it, but it never felt right. At the end of the day, I decided to touch into an uncovered territory of (Y/n) that I had debated on for a while and enjoyed the results. I promise the next chapter will be longer and will cover more bases! Enjoy Chapter 7 of Survival!!

P.S. I know I said I'd get this chapter out in May, but it's currently June 1st, 12:26pm (for me), so take it or leave it!!! (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules•

• Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII

"Y/n, wait up!"

You turned to see your little sister running over to catch up to your quick pace, grabbing her hand as she extended it to you. The two of you were pushing through the crowd in the market, holding on to each other as if it were for dear life. You would rather be damned than lose any of your younger siblings upon your watch.

"We need to hurry! We have to be home before Mother starts dinner," you noted breathlessly, "She cannot even start if we do not get these ingredients to her on time," referring to the basket you were holding close to your form.

Your sister gave an obedient response as she focused on your swift gait. You could only smile at the young girl's compliance— had it been any of your other more youthful siblings, they may have given you replies of retaliation out of their immaturity, but she was a sweet child who clearly looked up to and admired you. Turning your attention back towards the road of the market square, you saw that you were close to the exit that would lead you on the path home, sighing in relief as you slightly sped up your stride; however, before the two of you could exit you felt a hand wrap around your arm, pulling you and your sister into a secluded area.

"Now, what do we have here?" A gruff voice sounded, "Two pretty little buds have stumbled upon my path."

The voice was clearly a male's, and he was undoubtedly intoxicated as his speech was slurred, plus his stride was far from straight as he walked closer towards you. He circled the two of you like a vulture over a carcass, his eyes narrow and intimidating as he looked at your youthful figures, disgustingly licking his lips. The predator eventually moved into the light, revealing his aged appearance. The man was clearly an older one, his rough, oily skin and few missing teeth being a telling sign of his seniority; if he was any younger than you had assumed, he did not age gracefully.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” you started, unintentionally stuttering as you spoke, “b-but we have to be home before sunset,” you finished explaining, your voice slightly cracking as you spoke due to the fear swelling in your chest. Despite your own terror, you tried to keep your stance straight to give your sister peace of mind, pulling the little girl behind you to act as her human shield.

“No worries,” the stranger chuckled, before reaching around you and grabbing your sister by her forearm before pushing you onto the ground, holding your chest down with his foot, “I’ll make you both into proper women before then,” the man closed his statement, making his advance on your younger sibling first.

You struggled as you tried to push the man’s foot off your torso, but your attempts were futile. The sick individual only grew tired of your punching, moving, and scratching as he decided to kick you to the nearby wall. Your gaze followed his figure as you weakly got up, only to be pushed into the wall once more, feeling cuts and scratches being made upon your flesh. The male took hold of something at the corner of your eye, still keeping your sister in a tight grip as she struggled. In moments, your hands and legs were tied, and a solid heavy stone was placed upon your lap to keep you from getting up anytime soon.

“Y/N!” Your sister screamed with tears in her eyes as the predator began to touch and kiss her pure skin with his contaminated flesh.

Your mind paced watching the scene, bile rising to your throat as you grew repulsed. Before long, the disgusting creature decided to yank at her clothes— that was the moment you snapped.

“Wait, take me instead! I’ll let you do whatever you want to me!” You yelled in haste. The decision was made with little thought, but as long as your sister was safe, you could live with the disgust.

The man paused to think for a moment before a repulsive grin overtook his expression, quickly going to restrain your sibling before removing your bonds. The moment you were free was the moment you were infested by his greedy touches. If the contact of his fingers and lips didn’t make you want to gag, the feeling of his bulge between your thighs made you want to vomit.

You thought that by sacrificing yourself for your sister's safety, you would be able to tolerate his blatant violation, but you could only feel your resolve weaken as his lingering touches began making your skin burn, but not in a good way. Despite your discomfort, you continued to indulge in his horrific actions, deciding to let out your emotions with tears and balled fists. Things weren't any easier as you heard the choked sobs of your younger sibling as she watched the setting, feeling your dignity and pride being washed away. Everything was going as the man wanted– he was getting his fixture of pleasure while two young girls suffered. If his hard-on wasn't a signal of his enjoyment, his chuckles and wretched words were an unmistakable banner.

"You're such a pretty little thing, so obedient for me. Y'know, I think that deserves a reward," the aged man cackled, moving his hands to remove his garments, changing course to strip you as well.

"(Y/N)!!!" your sister screeched, loud enough for her voice to echo in the alley.

Before you could say any words of comfort for the little girl, the man turned around, obviously not pleased with her outburst. The man's nostrils flared as he raised a hand and hit the young girl. The audible smack did not settle with you, and you could feel a temper you had never felt before build up inside you. You do not remember what happened next, but everything went pitch black for a second, and when you opened your eyes...

All you saw was the body of the pedophile lying on the floor, unmoving and breathless.

You stared at the lifeless figure, not knowing what to say as the scarlet liquid began to pool in a puddle beneath his form. Lifting your crown, you looked around to maybe see who the culprit of killing the man was; however, the alley was empty– just you and your sister. Speaking of the sibling in question, you swiftly moved to retrieve the girl only to see that her restraints were already broken and that she was unconscious, yet breathing.

Questions began to fill your mind, but you pushed them aside, focusing on the current circumstances. You wasted no more time as you went to lift the little girl onto your back, picking up the basket of ingredients before making your trek home. Although one problem was resolved, there was still another pressing matter...what would you tell your parents? Unfortunately, you did not have much time to think up an answer to that as you were now at your front door, sliding the object to reveal the worried expressions of your parents.

The couple rambled, asking what had happened, questioning why the two of you were late and battered. The more they interrogated, the louder the ringing in your ears started to develop, effectively drowning out their uneasy voices. You didn't know what to say or what to do. Would it be a good idea to tell them the truth? What if they wouldn't believe you? Would you be punished? How would they even react?

"We were playing in the fields and had an accident, but we're alright now. (S/n) fell asleep on our way back, she really exerted herself."

The lie was sour in your mouth, but you thought it was the better route when you pictured the corpse lying on the dirt floor. How would you explain such a gruesome sight? The answer is you would not because there wasn't an explanation to give– you didn't even know what had happened.

The night went on as usual, your parents buying your story and continuing regular activity. When your sister had risen, she didn't remember a thing, only saying the last thing she recalled was shopping at the market. Your parents didn't think much of it as they gave her a simple reply before having her eat with the family. When you were presented with your plate, you could hardly stomach the sight of the food; however, you knew it would be rude to waste a precious meal, so you ate and shoved whatever bile threatening to scale your esophagus down.

After the meal, you were tasked with helping your mother clean the dishes. It was quiet between you both as you scrubbed the dishware and bowls, not yet feeling comfortable to voice words. Although you opted to stay muted, your mother did not make indications she would do the same.

"Thank you for taking care of your sister," the woman started, giving you a warm smile, "she really looks up to you, and I could not be prouder of that."

Her words broke you then and there as your eyes glossed over, feeling tears cascade down your face. Your mom stopped what she was doing and took hold of your face to have you look at her, "Whatever is the matter, dear?"

"But I didn't take care of her. She got hurt today because of my incompetence. How can I call myself a good sister after that?" You choked out between quiet sobs.

"Accidents happen, my dear," the parent soothed as she pulled you in, petting your hair to calm you, "The best thing you can do is learn from them."

You could only nod into your mother's bosom, not trusting your own voice at the time being. Maybe she was right– you just had to ensure the incident wouldn't repeat itself. You repeated that statement mentally as she held you, so why did you still feel guilty.

"After all, you took care of it, my dear," your mother sounded, "You killed that vile man."

Your eyes shot open, your breathing heavy, and your pulse uneven as you woke from your nightmare. It wasn't the first time that night terror had occurred, but you had to admit it had been a while since it had. Ever since birthing your children, the nightmares had been more consistent.

At first, they were an occasional occurrence, but as the months passed, once or twice a month turned into three to four times a week. Some lasted longer than others, and others were more frightening than some. Either way, your once dreamless nights began to fill with discomforting and restless evenings. Despite the abnormality of some of the dreams, you only deduced it as a result of stress. You kept yourself levelheaded on the outside, but within, you were drowning in your overwhelming thoughts.

Ever since your everlasting pact with Sukuna, things around the temple began to change significantly, at least for you. Perhaps someone with an ordinary eye would not notice these small changes, but you were focused on the finer details. Minimal adjustments such as staffing, specifically the addition of two new guards. It was not a large sum of security, definitely not an army, but for even one guard to join Sukuna's ranks was unusual. Your husband had not much need for any more manpower as he had plenty of that as it already was; however, the stranger part is that they seemed to be patrolling the areas where the mothers resided. This did not go unnoticed by anyone as rumors were already spreading, but everyone seemed to hold an opposite reaction from your own.

"Well, they definitely do not hurt my eyes.~"

"I heard from one of the kitchen maids that they're Sukuna's spies. Apparently, one of the moms here is being distasteful."

"Our dear husband protecting his prizes, how sweet.~"

"This was bound to happen since last year's inspections– truly disappointing how many failed progeny there were."

Meaningless jokes, endearing words, bustling rumors, but no mentions of concerns. You found this new detail far from good because the guards were not focused on the mothers nor the children but rather on the surroundings of the room they inhabited. Their eyes were cautious and were jumping from place to place, their forms tense, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen. Despite these prominent cues, everyone seemed to overlook it– you had heard a few women state that `Sukuna did not want them looking upon his prizes.`

"Y/n-sama, I've been requested to escort you to the gardens," a voice sounded; however, it was not your attendant but rather Uraume who had called out to you.

You had been seeing the individual more often than usual– what started off as passing glances and minimal greetings had turned into confrontational meetings and regular appearances; this happened to be one of those instances. It did not take you long to rise from your relaxed state, moving to take hold of your children before turning to Sukuna's right hand. Uraume did not say anything, only giving you a bow and a gesture to follow them to the gardens, where your attendant would most likely be waiting. Usually, the girl would be the one who greeted you on these mornings, but because of your recurring night terrors, you opted to have her take the time to focus on other tasks, telling her that you could wake yourself; however, when you first brought this conversation up, she hesitated on the idea. After some convincing, your attendant finally caved and gave you the mornings to yourself, but that did not last long.

It took around a week or two for Sukuna to figure out that you were spending most of your mornings alone, which your partner did not appreciate. Despite his detesting of the news, he did not lash out at anybody for it– the man seemed more apprehensive than infuriated. It took only a few days for Sukuna to appoint his direct helper to retrieve you. From then on, you were seen with Uraume for most of the morning before they left to perform their other duties.

You followed the individual down the corridor, glancing at the walls and what inhabited them. There wasn't much decorating the temple as Sukuna was not a sentimental man– he hardly kept his offerings unless they were of necessity. The walls were blank and lifeless, and viewing them could drive you insane if you focused on them.

"Y/n-sama, do you love Sukun-sama?"

Your breath hitched as you moved your gaze to look at the back of Uraume's head. There question left you speechless; however, it was not because you did not have an answer but rather their sudden interest that took you aback. The person did not vocalize their thoughts much, but you could always tell when they were thinking to themselves.

"Yes, he is my husband. Why would I not love him?" you quickly stated.

"You do not have to lie to me (Y/n)-sama."

You could not help but worry at Uraume's comment. Did they know your intentions? Were they going to remove your twins from your care? Had they already discussed this with Sukuna? How long did you have left?

"And where is your evidence of that, Uraume?" you managed to keep your voice leveled despite the anxiety creeping up on you, but you needed to keep your composure if you wanted to win this little tussle, being if you had to fight at all.

A chuckle resonated through the hall.

"You're right... I have no proof, only my own conspiracies. I admire your ability to hold that over me– your defensive side is a site to see. If I'm being honest, when you first came to the temple, I did not think much of you as I thought you were just another woman to bear Sukuna's kin; you proved me wrong (Y/n)-sama. I do not understand how you managed, but you have Sukuna-sama wrapped around your finger like I have never seen before," Uruame voiced, a lightness to their tone before continuing, "Perhaps it is for the best, after all, you are both seem satisfied with your current standing."

For the rest of the trip, you sustained the following stillness, only giving the individual a hum in response to their last comment. When the garden came into view, you internally sighed in relief, glad to rid yourself of this mind-wracking conversation. Too bad things couldn't stay that way.

"Y/n-sama, your village has started to retaliate against Sukuna's command. Truth be told, it has been going on for the past year; however, things have started to escalate— for the sake of your family unit, keep yourself on guard," The righthand warned, turning to leave you to your daily activities.

Just peachy, another occurrence to write down in your list of troubles.

You would not get proper rest in a while.

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @alurafairy @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

The Ties that Bind: Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd Becoming Friends

by Wonderland_Owl Cassandra Cain (Wayne) and Jason Todd, both adopted by Bruce Wayne, share a history of hardship but have different approaches to heroism and perspectives on Batman. Cass is eager to connect with Jason as a friend and sibling, while Jason is hesitant to accept both Bruce and her. Despite this, Cass's persistent kindness aims to understand Jason rather than fix him, acknowledging his troubled past. Together, they stand at the edge of change, ready to explore a potential friendship, each carrying their scars but hopeful for a deeper bond forged through their shared experiences. Words: 2760, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 8 of Batfamily Adventures Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic), Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Cassandra Cain, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members (DCU), Rogues Gallery (Batman), Black Bat, Orphan (DCU), Red Hood Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s) Additional Tags: Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Comfort No Hurt, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Cassandra Cain, Protective Cassandra Cain, Flash Fic, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Originally Posted on Tumblr, No beta we die like our democracy, Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are Siblings, Good Older Sibling Cassandra Cain, Selectively Mute Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain is Orphan, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Batfamily adventures, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Flash Fiction, My First Work in This Fandom, Cassandra Cain is a Wayne, Bruce Wayne Adopts Cassandra Cain, Cassandra Cain is Bruce Wayne's Favorite, Jason Todd-centric, DC stands for Disregard Canon, No More Dead Robins, Jason Todd Loves Jane Austen, Cassandra Cain Has Eldest Daughter Syndrome, BAMF Cassandra Cain, BAMF Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Dark Comedy, Comedy, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Caring Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily-centric (DCU), Batfamily Angst (DCU), Not Canon Compliant, Awkwardness, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Out of Character, Developing Friendships, Family Feels, Team as Family, Family Bonding, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Some OOC, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Cassandra Cain-centric, Headcanon via https://ift.tt/0LXDucV

[lets-try-some-writing]

Cybertronians with polycephaly, discuss

Polycephaly is in fact something Cybertronians can emerge from the Well with. It is rare enough that there are only a few hundred recorded cases of it occurring naturally, and it comes with no end of complications. Generally, such Cybertronians emerge due to three situations.

The most common is when a pair of split sparks never fully separated, and so their frames merged during development. They share a spark chamber and the rest of their frame. All they have are their separate helms. The medical issues alone are severe more often than not since their ability to control their shared frame is usually quite hindered by the separate command streams coming from their sibling. Not to mention, two sparks being so unnaturally bound tends to lead to issues with relationships, functionality, and getting any sort of work. Most twins with polycephaly get work in the data caste somewhere since their processors can filter through double the data while they only have one frame to fuel. Thankfully this type of polycephaly can be rectified with enough surgeries.

Twins can be put into separate frames when they are young, or if they are too weak, they can wait until they are older and then separate. In such cases, they often go through increadible therapy and tend to stay together even after gaining separate frames. Oftentimes these twins come into their new frames as outliers in response to their extensive time sharing a spark chamber.

The second type of polycephaly that a Cybertronian can have is what is dubbed "Parasitic twin syndrome". That is not the official term, but that is what it is referred to publicly. In this case, split spark twins end up too close like in the first potential scenario. However, at some point during development or shortly after emergence, one of the twins offline due to either weakness or immune system issues in response to a shared spark chamber. The remaining twin is left with dead weight and a lifeless head beside their own.

Often these mechs go through spark transfers to get new frames immediately. They don't tend to last long on their own in a frame that requires two sparks to power it. If the mech is gotten to quickly, there are no long lasting effects. But there have been instances where a mech will go along with what remains of their twin for vorns upon vorns until the medical complications become too much.

The last case is when two completely unaffiliated newsparks end up partially merging during the climb out of the Well. Usually this is between a larger mech and a smaller one. The smaller will cling to the larger, and if certain conditions are met, the two will fuse together. Sometimes this results in a mech with two sparks but one helm and one frame, leading to a split personality syndrome. In other cases the smaller mech dies and the larger one grows stronger or vice versa. However, sometimes and very rarely, the two fuse perfectly and become an entity that perfectly shares a frame.

These mechs don't tend to have too many medical complications because they share a frame but still have two separate spark chambers and processors. Sometimes they stay together and never get surgery. Other times they do. Since there is no medical urgency around the decision, such individuals are allowed to do as they please.

[nekodere07]

Can you guys recommend me Evil X centric fics? And provide a summary and major spoiler to convince me to read them? I listed the ones below that I discovered/read so far, so you don't need to recommend them again. It also functions as me recommending stuff to EX enjoyers :D

Asking for Nothing by mayflowers fr "i can be the one you call" series (Evil X redemption saga after traumatizing Keralis w/ Zed's help; you need to read everything for context since it has diff events and has continuity) ✨

Anthophobia by residentevilxisuma (Evil X has platonic Hanahaki disease) ✨

Make Me Hurt, Make Me Bleed by residentevilxisuma (Reaper Evil X got tortured by Mumbo but doesn't have physical scars due to his regeneration, but it's been hiatus/discontinued since 2021 😭) ✨

residentevilxisuma's Reaper AU by residentevilxisuma (collection of Evil X reaper au)

Another Chance by Ronin_Resistance fr "Void Medic EX" series (Evil X is in charge of respawn while in the void)

Homesick by Inquillitory (Evil X redemption arc after being indirectly responsible for s8's doom)

Can't Even Hear My Own Sobs by GoodTimeWithCip (EX has meltdown after being ripped fr the void)

Here is Home by Shrug (Icynightsky) (not centric but major role; Evil X rescues Impulse fr the void who was banned due to Imposter Syndrome)

The betrayal of brothers doesn't mean the betrayal of others. by JustAnotherMutantKid (Evil X was banned by Xisuma for not doing what he wants but got help by Team ZIT + Wels)

The Road to Hell (Is Paved with Good Intentions) by Random_Reviewer (not centric but antagonist; Evil X tortures Etho and streamed it for the Hermits to see)

this is about a stuffed bird by Bee_4 (downloaded it but didn't have the motivation to read since MCD)

The Hermits And The Mystery of How Evil X Eats by thatgirlfromasgard (not centric; like the title suggests)

it takes two to play (the game of mutual secrecy) by kiwinatorwaffles fr "the hermitcraft hero au (VDHAU)" series (Evil X vigilante due to admiration of a hero, not knowing it was his older brother Xisuma, and those two were just oblivious to each other's identity when all their friends already figured it out a long time ago) ✨

Late Night Visits by Lackyducks (not centric but major role; Evil X sends a stressed Xisuma to Scar since he can't shapeshift back)

Family Revelation series by PickleGirl23 (Exil X found and adopted Grian as his son; didn't continue the series tho since they crossover w/ DSMP)

Iron Bleeds Green by MawoftheMagnetar (not centric but major role; X and EX were formerly the same person but separated due to a tech fr their home planet, and an individual fr there was hunting both of them down)

Cat Among Pigeons by qvill (Evil X was spit out by the Rift after being void banned, shapeshifts into a cat so no one will know it's him)

Love Me Like I'm Dead by Dani_ofCrows (ongoing; major role; X and EX were secretly some kind of creature but X keeps it a secret fr the Hermits until this was forced to be discovered, Hermits shortly realized that both siblings have Hanahaki disease)

I'll Take You By The Hand by ScarletHalo (Evil X was captured by the Watchers but Grian helped w/ his injuries until Xisuma comes to theit rescue)

Words Are Hard by BDbSafe4U (BlueDblue62) (depressed Evil X can't communicate how much he was hurting to X until he tried to off himself in Decked Out)

voidfishing, the new sport that nobody regretted partaking in (eventually, anyway) by kiwinatorwaffles (major role; Xisuma fishes out kid Evil X out of the void)

Well well, look who's inside again by rorythewriter (ongoing; Evil X is freed fr the void but has amnesia and is suicidal due to the pain fr sensory deprivation/overload, EX and Zed friendship for the win)

Cold and broken and hurt (Warm and healed and protected) by Moonflowers24 (EX disappeared in s8 and was stuck in the void until s10, assumed X hated him since he banned him to the void again and never responded to their texts)

A Nether Return by Sharo (EX glitch spawned in the 1.16 Nether after being banned, got sick but was taken care of by team ZIT and Zed got pissed after discovering X banned EX)

[panlight]

Let's say that Charlie and Renee stay together, for better or worse. They have several children, and let's say that Bella is smack dab in the middle. (Perhaps Bella not being the eldest/only child somehow changes Renee's mind.) Even if everything else is mostly the same--Bella meets Edward, he can't hear her mind, etc.--how do you think she'd fair with a bunch of siblings? Bella is supposed to be uniquely kind and selfless, so having older siblings (to learn from) and younger siblings (to protect) would bring her whole "no one would miss me" thing into doubt. Or do you think she'd still justify leaving/turning--"well, they all have each other?" Would Bella be able to understand the Cullens better if she also came from a big family? Or would she want to leave all the more, to be special in a way a middle child isn't?

My immediate thought was that Bella would suffer from 'middle child syndrome' and believe that no one would miss her because they barely notice her anyway. It's pretty clear that in canon she has low self-esteem even before the comparison to Edward and the Cullens' outrageous, literally inhuman perfection makes her see herself as weak and ugly and unworthy. I could imagine something like that still existing and her feeling lost and overlooked in a big family, whether or not it was actually true. Edward's singular focus on her above all others would be intoxicating. Finally, she's someone's favorite!

All that said, I would like to think it would give her pause. In canon, she has virtually no family. Both her parents are only children so there are no aunts or uncles or cousins. All her grandparents are dead. It's just her dad, mom, and step-dad. She's giving up three people and frankly I never got the sense she was close to Phil at all, so two people. And then she gets to keep Charlie at least anyway.

Written by SM, she'd probably get to keep her siblings in her life somehow. One of them would for sure be imprinted upon by a shifter. You just know that would happen. Probably Seth imprinting on Bella's youngest sister. That just feels like something SM would do. Maybe, maybe, if the stars were aligned just so, SM could have given up Jacob/Renesmee and could have gone for Jacob/Bella's little sister instead, but I don't think the odds are in our favor there. So probably Seth. Maybe she gets to keep her siblings in her life because a few generations ago a Swan married an Ateara so "we're family" or something and they get to know all the shifter secrets because Bella gets a perfect piece of forever.

Watching her little siblings age past her, grow old, and die would be a whole other issue though. And then her nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and nephews . . . assuming she was close to them at all, it might weigh on her, or maybe she becomes like Luca and wants to change some of them. You'd think the other Cullens would overrule that though, they are already too large of a coven, hard to blend in, on the Volturi's hit list, etc. But again: SM lets Bella get the cushiest vampire life imaginable so who knows.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part four

part one, part two, part three

Summary: The Sully Family is trying to work around their grief and Ao'nung learns that family doesn't always have to be by blood. It can be by choice.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, time skips, HEAVY angst, depression, older sibling syndrome, mentions of death, canon typical violence, canon compliance, slow burn, etc.

Word Count: 5k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: nivi - hammock, olo'eyktan - clan leader, tulkun - whale like animal, Sänrr Rong - Glow Tunnel, marui - home, ikran - Mountain Banshee, pa'li - direhorse, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, kuru - queue braid, tsahik - spiritual leader, kalweyaveng - son of a bitch

posted on ao3

Taglist (red indicates "could not tag"): @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n

A/N: 200 followers?! When did that happen? Thank you so much for the support of this series and for all the requests! Here's the next part of the series in celebration! 🍾 ✨️ 🎉

Going through the motions.

That's what Y/n ended up doing since the day her twin brother was murdered by the Sky People. She would wake up and not feel as though she was actually awake. Mostly it still felt like some sort of bad dream and she somehow couldn't open her eyes. She moved around and did everything she was supposed to, but mostly it was like she was on autopilot.

Losing Neteyam took a toll on everyone in her family along with the people around them. At the funeral, they all had a role and took part in letting his body go, even Spider, who had been rescued from the Sky People in the chaos of losing Neteyam. Y/n didn't even realize Spider was living among them again until the next day after she had passed out from screaming and crying to her dead brother. He and Kiri were sitting beside her nivi and the human boy even offered her water for her aching throat.

After that, Y/n couldn't remember much, she just let her body lead her. As mentioned before, she was just going through the motions. Everyone around her could agree that she was just a walking shell, eating when she needed to, sleeping when she had to, and doing her chores, and other daily duties around the village. Her expression had become stone, even during her brother's funeral. It was as though she didn't have any more tears left to shed and her chest felt hollow.

The Sully family mourned for a week and even longer once Jake got reassurances from both Tonowari and Ronal. To everyone's eyes, the Sullys were Metkayina now and they were being allowed to stay forever, as part of the People. The Sully kids wanted to feel proud, but instead, it felt bitter and more like guilt. To Y/n, her acceptance into this new clan didn't mean anything. Not anymore. It didn't make her feel anything other than that empty hole in her chest. Physically, there wasn't a hole, but mentally, up in Y/n's head, she had a hole in her chest that was bleeding out and it was the same size as the bullet hole left in her twin.

It took a while, but eventually, the Sully kids reverted to something resembling normal. Yes, they were still grieving, but now they moved around, helped out in the village, and went back into the water. Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk have found themselves playing again, and this time, they're showing Spider around and dragging him everywhere, despite the stares and whispers.

Y/n goes with her siblings everywhere, but she doesn't play or explore. Instead, she keeps watch. She had definitely unsettled many of the Metkayina, walking behind her group of siblings, carrying a bow and arrows in both of her arms, scaring people away with just one glance. She brought her weapons everywhere now, never being seen without them. She couldn't afford not to have them again. It was hard for anyone to believe that she was just fifteen years old, with the way she held herself and hovered over her family members, her yellow eyes watching them like a hawk. While they played in the water, the Sully kids could rely on their big sister to watch over them. She was always near, sitting on some rocks, high above her siblings so that she could see everything that comes within a hundred feet of them. Her brother and sisters could always rely on her to be a constant presence, even if she didn't appear to be all in her right mind.

There was also an unexpected constant presence beside Y/n when she was like this, and that presence was Ao'nung. Whenever he could, the reef boy would be beside the former Omatikaya girl. Y/n was so used to being Neteyam's shadow, she never realized that she had one of her own. Ao'nung refused to leave her alone, ever, especially if he knows that she wanted to be left to her thoughts. He wasn't sure what was going on in her head, but something dark and terrifying in his gut told them that whatever demons she had, she shouldn't be left alone with. So, he remained steady and strong, like a cliff against a mighty storm. Unmoveable and calm, Ao'nung became Y/n's silent shadow wherever she went.

It wasn't much of a challenge, especially since Y/n barely goes anywhere. She follows her siblings around during the day and that was it, otherwise, she was with the entire village for communal meals and then with her family to sleep for the night. The meals and slumber were the only things Ao'nung had to part himself from Y/n, but otherwise, he remained stuck to her hip, whether she wanted him to or not. Their routine was simple and nearly everyone in the village knew it. It wouldn't be difficult to locate the two young Na'vi even if they were sought after. Ao'nung would sit beside Y/n every afternoon, on the rock where she kept watch over her siblings as they played in the water. The reef boy never complained about never being able to join in on the fun. Other people did plenty of that for him, however. The boys that had bullied Kiri, the ones Ao'nung had dropped, thought they would be doing him a favor by antagonizing Y/n when they swam by on their ilu one day, ready to go for a hunt. Wanting Ao'nung to come with them, they jokingly asked Y/n if they could borrow her shadow for the afternoon, promising to bring him back in one piece. When that didn't draw the reaction they wanted out of her, the jerks tried other methods such as manipulation, telling her that she didn't need Ao'nung and that he was his own person and doesn't need to be bored all day long for her sake.

Ao'nung snapped, the waves crashing against the rock cliff and breaking it down. He shouted at his former friends and told them some very unsavory things about their mothers and, if he were olo'eyktan, how he would punish them for their dishonorable behavior. For now, that appeared to scare those assholes away, but Ao'nung was certain they would go crying to their mothers, who would then proceed to tell his mother. That night, Ao'nung had prepared himself to go home and receive the brewing storm that was Ronal, who expectedly lectured him about how a chief's son properly acts.

It was worth it in his eyes if the way Neytiri looked at him had anything to say about it. The Sully mother was intimidating, to be sure, but when she looked at Ao'nung, he wasn't entirely frightened. She stared at him as if she was calculating, observing, anything but trying to find ways to kill him in his sleep. Tsireya was unable to sleep one night and told her brother how horrifying it was to watch Neytiri slip into some kind of wild animal the day Neteyam died, and at first, Ao'nung couldn't believe it. But he knew she was a protective mother, who would kill for her kids, just from the way she looked at people. Even Ao'nung's father knows better than to look Neytiri te Suli née te Tskaha Mo'at'ite in the eyes.

So Ao'nung continues to sit with Y/n and to fill in the silence, he would tell her about his day or relay a story he once heard or experienced. He wanted to tell her more stories about his Spirit Brother but decided against it. A part of him knew that if he talked about the tulkun, Y/n would be reminded of Payakan, and then she would remember the tragic day when her family lost her brother. He doesn't ask her if this would upset her, but somehow he knew it would. He doesn't really ask her much of anything. It's not like he's assuming what she'll think, it's more like he somehow knows it already. Somehow, he knows her.

He never outright asks her if she's alright or if she needs someone to talk to. Ao'nung wasn't like that. He wasn't his sister who is open and unashamed. He had his own way of asking those questions.

"Do you wanna go to Sänrr Rong?"

At the end of each of his stories or daily briefs, he always asked her the same question. It was his way of asking her if she wanted to get away so she could freely talk about whatever she wanted. He was offering a way out and somehow, she knew it but didn't ever take him up on his offer. Every time he asked her the same question, she gives him the same answer, "No."

"Okay," was always his reply.

~~~~~~~~~

The only time Y/n wasn't looking after her siblings was when she left her siblings to her parents for the evening. After dinner, the Sullys would return home and settle down for the night, and when they returned home, Y/n would grab her bow and leave for a few hours to find time to herself. It wasn't like Jake and Neytiri asked her to watch Lo'ak and the girls, but Y/n did so willingly, without complaint, and would only leave her siblings alone if one or both parents were around to keep them safe.

Neytiri understood that as a teenager, Y/n needed to have time to herself, but not at such a late hour and away from the village, "Y/n, please stay with us. Stay with Mama."

It felt like a constant battle every time Y/n moved to leave the marui but every time, the girl remained victorious and always escaped into the night. Through their grief, Jake and Neytiri lost the will to fight her and granted their eldest daughter more freedom than before. They knew she was grieving in her own way and they needed to let her do so, but as parents who had just lost a child, sometimes it was hard to let them out of their sight.

Y/n needed to be alone. She needed to have her space. She could only listen to her mother tearfully sing Neteyam's songcord for so long. Technically, it was Y/n's song, too. The twins had shared at least the first three beads on their respective cords, signifying the first three milestones of their lives. The first verse and chorus of their songs were the same, only branching out in their separate, unique melodies after the first communion with Eywa. Listening to Neytiri sing the same song that was meant for both Y/n and Neteyam would drive the young girl up the wall, both in anger and sadness, but she couldn't bring herself to tell her mother that. She didn't want to stop her mother's way of grieving for the sake of being comfortable.

Y/n would look away and speak in the smallest voice, "... I can't."

She would leave for a few hours but always came home when she knew her family had settled down to sleep, doing this on purpose so they wouldn't talk to her. Neytiri always stayed awake, however, and therefore Jake stayed awake. To avoid waking their other children, however, they don't lecture Y/n when she got home. They always flashed her disappointed or pitying looks, but otherwise, let her find her own hammock and go to sleep.

Neytiri had tried to be her daughter's shoulder, lending her ear along with her gentle voice, "I was around your age when I lost my sister."

And Jake had tried to be his daughter's rock, placing a firm, comforting hand on the top of her head for reassurance, "And I lost my brother. We know how you feel, sweetheart. We're here when you're ready to talk."

She would only shake her head, "There's nothing to talk about."

~~~~~~~~~

Lo'ak feels guilt and regret for a lot of things. He regrets dragging his siblings into rescuing Payakan when it should have just been him. He regrets forcing Neteyam to help save Spider when he could've done it alone. He regrets not going back for his sisters when he had the chance to do so. He regrets freezing, in shock, and unable to move while his sisters were scared and tied up on the ship. He regrets letting Neteyam take the gun from him... maybe if he had kept it, they would've shot him instead...

Maybe Y/n wouldn't hate him so much then. His big sister barely spoke to anyone, least of all him. Lo'ak can barely get Y/n to look at him much less say a few words. With Kiri and Tuk, it's a little different. The three sisters all seem to communicate without ever vocalizing to one another, a form of communication that Lo'ak greatly resented. It only made him feel more alone, the only brother left... Well, except for Spider. The human boy is older than Lo'ak but doesn't act like it, the complete opposite of Neteyam in that aspect, along with physicality. Lo'ak appreciated Spider in many ways and does see him as a brother, but not an older brother. Not someone he could look up to.

Which is why he couldn't stand Y/n hating him any longer. One night, after she slipped away to be alone with her bow in hand, Lo'ak pleaded with his parents to let him go after her. He never vocally asked, instead using those big eyes and droopy ears to his advantage. Jake only looked away while Neytiri gave in, softly telling her last remaining son, "Go bring back your sister."

He ran after her, being sure to let her know he was following her with loud footsteps so as not to scare her. After all, he's seen her archery skills before. He knows his sister doesn't miss. Y/n didn't appear bothered by her little brother tagging along, the two running through the forest together until they came across the rookery in which their family's ikran had found their homes. It was a clearing of trees with a waterfall leading up to small cliffs of rock and bits of floating boulders. They weren't mountains and it wasn't as impressive as the rookery back home, but it did its purpose to housing the banshees. Y/n strung her bow over her shoulder and climbed up with Lo'ak close behind. They climbed to the very top of the waterfall where they were greeted by the ikran.

Y/n moved to greet Evi, trailing her hand down the strong neck of her dear friend as Lo'ak climbed over the ledge. For a moment, the siblings remain quiet as Lo'ak greets his ikran, a pissy beast who has been feeling neglected as of late. While Lo'ak provides him with treats to make up for it, the words come tumbling out of his mouth.

"Please don't be mad at me anymore."

Y/n's head tilts, curious, before turning to face her brother. Lo'ak couldn't bring himself to look back at her as she finally spoke to him, "Why would I be mad at you?"

He winced at the sound of her voice. It was different. After she had screamed her lungs out that fateful day, she hadn't spoken very much since. Either it was still the same voice and Lo'ak just hadn't heard it in a while, or it had changed, making the guilt continue to eat him from the inside out. His hands shook whilst he stared down at them, his blurring vision reminding him of the blood he had been forced to scrub off once upon a time, "Because it was my fault. My... fault..."

Y/n's ears drop, her tail lowering in distress. Her heart clenched painfully as she took a step toward her brother, "No. No, Lo'ak--"

"He's dead because of me." He blurted out.

"That's not true--"

"And I never got to... I should've said..."

She finally reached Lo'ak and pulled him by the shoulder, forcing him to turn and stand directly in front of her. Both of Y/n's hands squeeze his shoulders comfortably, gently whispering to him as if they were sharing a secret, "Tell me."

The tears were beginning to fall, and Lo'ak didn't have the strength to stop them, "The last thing I told him before everything went to shit... I said that Payakan was my brother and he needed my help. I told my own brother to his face that someone else mattered more to me than him! That he wasn't my brother--"

Y/n's face was not free of tears this time, her heart breaking all over but not just for Neteyam. Her heart broke for Lo'ak, too, her baby brother who thinks he screws up everything he touches and blames himself for everything that's happened to their family. Y/n reached up for that stray braid Lo'ak keeps free from his hair band, running her thumb over one of the beads Tuk had gifted him as she spoke, "You didn't mean it, Lo'ak. I know it, and 'Teyam did, too."

His entire body shook, and eventually, she coached him into leaning into her for support. It was by no means a hug. Lately, Lo'ak had been acting too grown up for that sort of thing, but Y/n will take whatever she can get. He leans his forehead on her shoulder and cries, shaking like a newborn pa'li while her arms envelop him, despite how he kept his arms to his sides.

They weren't out of the woods yet. Their family still had a long way to go before they feel as though they will survive this pain. But at least it was a start.

~~~~~~~~~

After realizing that her silence was making her siblings believe she hated them, Y/n tries to do better after her talk with Lo'ak. Speaking normally would be difficult for her and for the majority of the time it was uncomfortable, but she was eventually starting to work herself up to feeling somewhat normal again, starting with her sarcasm.

Slowly, day by day, her sarcasm returned, and she even made a sarcastic comment that got Spider to laugh. Ao'nung was there as well, wanting to feel at least relieved that Y/n was slowly coming back, but something stopped him from doing so. It was the way Spider laughed that made his skin prick uncomfortably. He didn't like the sky demon boy, that was clear to see. Even though Tsireya and even his parents warmed up to Spider, Ao'nung was not an easy feat. He had taken a while to accept Na'vi and demon hybrids, so trying to accept an actual Sky Person would be even more difficult, maybe even impossible as Ao'nung watched how Y/n and Spider would interact.

Anger often flared up in his chest whenever he saw the two together. Spider was always beaming a bright smile up at Y/n behind his strange little glass bubble of air, talking adamantly to her even when she wasn't in a talking mood. What bothered Ao'nung, even more, was the fact that Y/n didn't seem to mind Spider's presence. In fact, she gladly welcomed it. What was once red flaring up in Ao'nung's eyes was now green with envy, and the green wasn't a good look on him. His hands began to twitch whenever Spider was in the vicinity, or whenever the human was around Y/n. Ao'nung needed to do something with his hands, and unfortunately, when he finally lashed out, it was a mess.

Y/n came running to the sound of yelps and grunts of pain, someone snarling and hissing along with the familiar sound of fists being thrown. It was like being sent back in time, watching Lo'ak and Ao'nung fight in the sand. The forest girl easily broke the fight up and looked around with annoyance in her eyes while staring down at her brother and her friend.

"What's going on?"

"Ao'nung hit Spider!" Lo'ak spat out.

She took a moment to find Spider's gaze, the teenaged human looking a little frightened but otherwise unharmed. He was clutching his mask tightly around his face, however, so Y/n put the puzzle pieces together to realize what had happened. She examines Spider and his mask first, poking around at the oxygen tank attached to it before turning to the reef boy responsible, "Ao'nung?"

Ao'nung was sporting another bruise on his face along with blood on his lips. His ears darkened a shade, but otherwise stood his ground as he mumbled, "He said he knows what's best for you."

"What?" Lo'ak hissed, scandalized, "Bro, he didn't say that!"

Y/n held a hand out to Lo'ak and he quieted down. When her eyes found Spider, he knew that it was his turn to explain, "I only said I've known you a long time, Y/n, I swear."

She nods and turns back to the Metkayina, "Ao'nung. Did he really say that word for word?"

Ao'nung wished he could remember exactly what had been said before the fight, but it was all a blur. His memory was easily blinded by rage, and he could only remember bits and pieces of his conversation with Lo'ak as they fished on the shore before Spider had shown up. All the same, he realized that what he thought had happened wasn't exactly true, regardless of what he remembered, "... No."

Her expression was blank, a stone wall that has become her natural reaction to everything now, "So you assumed."

"... Yes."

She nods, side-eyeing the reef boy with a look of disappointment. It was cold and impassive, much like how she used to look at him before they became friends, and that honestly terrified him. She tilted her chin back in the direction of the village, "Ao'nung. Go cool off. And for the time being, leave me and my brothers alone."

Brothers. One word and Ao'nung quickly realized how blind he had been, how foolish he looked. As Lo'ak and Spider left, he watched the way Y/n gently held the back of Spider's head when the human teenager walked past her. It was like a splash of cold water ran down Ao'nung's back, the ghost of Neteyam's memory following Y/n's simple movements and love language toward her siblings, alien and Na'vi alike. She spared one last glance at Ao'nung before she, too, walked away. Ao'nung growled to himself, wishing he had something else to hit to release that foolish energy. Of course, Spider was her brother. It was foolish of Ao'nung to assume otherwise after everything the Sully children had been through. Tsireya had been the one to tell her brother about Spider even when he didn't want to know. She told him how Spider grew up alongside the Sully kids, how they used to play together all the time and learned how to hunt together as they got older. Even though Spider wasn't able to ride an ikran or finish his Iknimaya without the means of contacting Eywa with a kuru, his fellow Na'vi friends still treated him like one of their own and included him in everything, against their mother's wishes. Ao'nung heard about the events that happened on the demon ship, how Neteyam saved Tsireya, Tuk, and Lo'ak, but stayed behind with his brother to save Spider. It was clear to everyone how much Spider meant to the Sullys, enough to risk their own lives for him, which is why everyone except Ao'nung got the message to leave him alone.

He went home and it didn't take long before word spread -yet again- and Jake Sully informed Ao'nung's parents about what happened. The olo'eyktan and tsahik were furious with their son, lecturing him about his behavior and why what he did was wrong, "Toruk Makto recognizes the demon boy as his own. The Sully family has adopted him as their son and brother. Despite your differences, you must learn to respect him as you should respect the Sullys."

They make him go apologize, but they didn't have to. Ao'nung wasn't going to fight them to defend his wrongdoings. He accepted his punishment and went to find Spider the next morning after everyone had time to cool off. Spider was happily climbing the atoll walls leading out to the open ocean while Lo'ak, Y/n, and some of the older reef kids went hunting. As Ao'nung's punishment, he wasn't allowed to hunt for a few weeks, so he was able to catch the human boy alone without anyone around, which is how Ao'nung preferred to apologize in his walk of shame.

Ao'nung settled into a crouching position beside Spider after the human teen took a break, sitting on the very top of the sea wall. Ao'nung couldn't afford to look at him as he apologized, "Sorry I hit you."

Spider only shrugged, leaning his weight on both hands bracing him from behind, "All good, man."

Ao'nung whipped his head up in the sky demon's direction, confused as he reiterated, "It's not all good. Y/n is still mad at me."

Which was true. Y/n was openly avoiding Ao'nung at dinner the night before and that morning. Once upon a time, Ao'nung was her shadow, but today, she refused to accept one. Spider shifted uncomfortably, staring down at his swinging feet that dangled off the edge of the wall, "Yeah, well... She's mad at you because she was picturing what could've happened. I mean, technically you could've killed me if you hit my mask just right."

Ao'nung's spine stiffens, "What?"

"My mask? Ya know, the thing that helps me breathe?" Spider stares at Ao'nung curiously while tapping the glass of his exo pack. When Ao'nung only stares back with a conflicted expression, he explains his question, "Sky People can't breathe this air without help. That's what these are for."

It was like a splash of cold water was running down his back as Ao'nung berates himself under his breath, "Kalweyaveng. I didn't know. You and Y/n must think I'm some sort of monster--"

"You didn't know, cuz. As for Y/n, she likely realizes that, too. You just scared her is all. She's scared of losing another big brother."

Ao'nung couldn't help the smirk on his face as he peered back over to the other boy, "Big?"

"Shut up. Not what I meant." The boy rolled his eyes, "I'm still older."

That was news to Ao'nung, and the thought of Neteyam sobered him up, "I didn't know."

"That's fair," it's not like it was obvious, given the size difference and separate species. Spider has been misinterpreted as the youngest of the group for a while. It doesn't help that Little Tuk is catching up to him at just seven years old. He tries not to let it bother him, but he could see why Ao'nung felt like shit messing around with him if all he saw was a demon baby, "It was a mistake and Y/n knows that. She just needs to cool off a bit."

Ao'nung tries not to feel hopeful at Spider's words, so he tries not to talk about it and ask questions. It's what his sister would do, and he was trying to be friendly, "So what happens if your mask breaks?"

"I have friends in the Omatikaya clan who might fly out here soon to give me spares."

"Do you plan on staying then?"

"Yeah..." Spider's sudden nonchalant attitude melted into nerves, cautiously watching the reef boy out of the corner of his eye, "That okay?"

"Yeah." Ao'nung doesn't think before answering, but he doesn't regret it and it feels as though a calm wave is blanketed over him, extinguishing whatever ugly emotions he held toward the human boy before, "I think so."

Spider grinned, "Cool."

~~~~~~~~~

Kiri offered to bring Y/n and Tuk with her when Tsireya and Ronal invited her for tsahik training. Kiri was obviously missing that part of her life and was excited to go, therefore Tuk was excited, too. Y/n... not so much, but not that she would show it. She just smiled and told her sisters to have fun. The girls left around the same Lo'ak went out hunting with Ao'nung and Rotxo. With her parents also out of the hut for their daily routines, that left Y/n with Spider, and the two of them decide to stay indoors and weave a few baskets. Spider also wanted to add a couple of beads to his songcord, so Y/n helped him out with it. They worked in silence and Y/n took note of the beads Spider was adding to the cord. She had a feeling what they signified but didn't have the heart to ask. Likely, they were to represent the loss of Neteyam and Spider's adoption into the family.

The thought made her throat swell and she was forced to cough in her arm. Y/n had yet to add to her songcord since her brother's death. She had plenty of other moments of her life she could add, like joining the Metkayina clan, but she knew, eventually, she'd have to add a bead for Neteyam and a bead for Spider. She already had some options picked out, like a bead she had taken from Neteyam's braid before his funeral. As for Spider, she was juggling between finding a shell or a rock in the area where the battle with the Sky People took place as a way of his returning to the family.

While her storming thoughts were brewing, Spider had a few thoughts of his own that he wanted to openly share, "You don't have to avoid your friend for my sake, ya know."

Her eyebrows scrunch as she bore a pouting frown when she peered up at him from her work on his songcord, "Your sake?"

"I don't think he meant any harm."

"Harm? I don't think you would be saying this if you knew how he treated Kiri when we first got here."

Spider paused, squinting his eyes in confusion, "But... doesn't Kiri like him? I thought she told me he's actually nice."

"Perhaps that was Kiri just being nice," Y/n rolled her eyes.

"He seems nice to Tuk."

"That's different. It's Tuk."

"Aside from when Ao'nung hit me, he and Lo'ak get along."

"Just because he's nice to us doesn't mean he can go around and be cruel to you."

"He was being protective of you, Y/n. In his eyes, I'm just an alien who thinks they know you but not really."

"He hit you."

Spider shrugged, albeit a little bashful, "Yeah, but I'm okay."

Y/n didn't think any of this was 'okay' and it frustrated her to think Spider didn't feel the same. He always brushed things off like they didn't matter-- like he didn't matter. Kiri was always bothered by it and Y/n wished she had stood up for Spider the way her sister did their whole lives. Y/n wanted to blame herself, but a resenting part of her knew the blame was her mother's. Neytiri had always been so cold toward the human boy, even when he was so young and innocent. And yet, he never said a bad thing about her and always respected her wishes. Even if he only did so to make sure he could continue to hang out with the kids, he still respected her far more than she respected him.

Y/n loved, respected, and even admired her mother, but sometimes, the child doesn't wish to be like their parent. Y/n reached over and grasped Spider's shoulder, "What if he broke your mask? What would have happened then? You don't have a spare, Spider. You could've died."

"But I'm okay. See? I'm fine."

"But what if--"

"No more 'what ifs.' It didn't happen, Y/n," he reached out and grabbed her shoulder as well, smiling softly, "So just leave it be. Ao'nung didn't know better, and he clearly feels terrible for what he did. If you're worried that you'll offend me if you forgive him, don't be."

Y/n looked away, still appearing unsure of his words, so Spider continued, "Did he tell you he apologized?"

She peered up, eyes wide as she subtly shook her head. Spider huffed a small laugh, "I guess he wouldn't have been able to, seeing as you've been avoiding him."

Her ears droop in shame, looking back down at her fingers while they fuss with Spider's songcord. Spider settled back down beside her to help, but realistically he's never been good at the crafting part of jewelry, "He feels guilty and even called himself a monster. I said I forgave him, but he still feels ashamed because you're still mad at him. He actually seems like a pretty cool dude and he really respects you. Just give him a chance?"

~~~~~~~~~

It was like earning the trust of a stray cat. Jake personally hasn't seen one in a while, but watching the way Ao'nung tried gaining his daughter's trust again, he was reminded of stray cats back on Earth. Jake faintly remembers an old lady who used to live across the street from his shitty apartment. She would leave out food for the strays and over time, would gain their trust and they would let her pet them or take them into her home.

Watching this was no different. The Sully family was interacting at the communal meal that night, among the villagers. Jake and Neytiri stayed close along with Tuk, the young girl was tired and slowly falling asleep in her mother's arms after playing all day. Jake had kept a tally of where each of his teenagers was currently at, and thankfully he didn't have to look very far for each of them. For the most part, they had stayed close together. Lo'ak, Spider, and Kiri have huddled around with Tsireya and Rotxo, laughing and occasionally tossing food at one another, using their own plates made from tree bark as shields from the onslaught. Y/n was sitting next to the group of teens but was far enough away so she wasn't involved in the food fight. She silently sat alone, picking at her food. Jake didn't miss the way she'd politely wave someone away if they tried sitting next to her. She was purposely keeping that spot open and her father didn't know for who until he had spotted Ao'nung out of the corner of his eye.

The chief's son definitely looked forlorn, keeping to himself with his plate full to the brim of food in hand. Ao'nung was keeping an eye on Y/n the whole time he slowly made his way around crowds to reach her. He would pause every time she looked his way, wait as she analyzed him, then continue slowly approaching her when she looked down at her food. She clearly knew where he was at all times and Ao'nung was intentionally letting her know, like he was afraid of spooking her. Eventually, he was close enough to be standing over her as she ate but Y/n made no sign of acknowledging him, despite the fact she knew he was there when Jake watched her tail gently thump against Ao'nung's leg. The boy clearly took that as a good sign and slowly sat down in the empty spot Y/n had left open for him. He crossed his legs, being sure not to touch and to give her some space. There was a beat of silence between them, both teens looking in opposite directions of each other before Ao'nung subtly slid his plate of food closer to Y/n.

An offering was made, and Y/n clocked the food with her eyes before she slowly glance back to Ao'nung. To Jake's amazement, he watched the way her lips slowly curled into a timid, shy smile, as if testing some boundary. Ao'nung gladly smiled back, and the two teens began to melt and fall into a small conversation as they ate together, sharing food and catching up like old friends.

Jake couldn't help but feel somewhat troubled by this, tapping his wife's elbow to get her attention, "I thought we would have to worry about that boy mistreating the kids."

Neytiri followed his gaze and watched Ao'nung and Y/n for a moment before returning her eyes to Jake, confused, "Yes?"

"Now I think we're gonna have to worry about him being too nice to Y/n."

A/N: So now that I'm writing more chapters than I originally thought (that's a good thing 'cause I have so many ideas for this series) I have made an 'anla series masterlist!

Neytiri's eyes widen at the dawning realization before smiling brightly, a look her mate had not seen in quite some time as she fondly cooed at him, "Oh, Ma Jake."

Thanks again for 200 followers! Part 5 is already in the works and I'll release the date soon 💖

[paintingchimera]

Do you think Ariane ever wanted her mom? Like because when we’re in pain, or scared or really anything we tend to want our mothers, so it’d be natural for Ariane to want her mother. GOD I IMAGINED IN ARIANES LAST MOMENTS BEFORE THE BIORESONANCE THING SHE WAS CRYING FOR HER MOM

Now that got me thinking, what about the replikas?? Do they long for the neural pattern’s mothers even though they’re not biologically their child?? When they destabilise I mean, like imagine a dying STAR on the battlefield calling out for her neural patterns mom oh my days

You guys cannot convince me ariane did not want her mom, especially with how she was raised I would reckon they had a very close bond. I wish there was more stuff surrounding ariane’s mom and even the itou twins mom like who is she?? Anja Itou or Lilith itou?? I would think Anja, because Lilith never had a male lover (that we know of) but she had Alina. Lilith being a possible older sister to them seems like a much more likely scenario than their mother, and personally on how lilith’s personality is shown (this is with the theory that she’s Elsters neural pattern) she probably would not want kids

And if the case was that Lilith was their mom, realistically then, Elster would’ve most likely atleast had some more instinct to protect isa— meanwhile with a sibling you really don’t have that urge (unless their like a baby) and honestly, I think Lilith and the twins wouldn’t of known each other for that long. Lilith would’ve been just a faded memory from childhood [if I’m correct on the timing of when Lilith might’ve been put into whatever they do to the replika neural pattern and that she is Elsters neural pattern] I mean, the faint possibility of her being the twins mother is that if Alina was their second mother, but that doesn’t make sense: Ariane is often portrayed as a ‘clone’ in a way of Alina, looking almost exact same as her. So why would Alina be their second mom? And it wouldn’t be possible because Alina was in the sierpenski as we know it,

So that would leave Anja to be their mother, Lilith? Maybe a cousin or older sister. Looking at Isa (assuming that Erika looks basically the same) she looks like she would relate to Lilith but not in a mother and daughter way; more like a cousins or sisters way. And What is the deal with Alina?? Is she just meant to be Lilith’s lover, or does Ariane end up being like some reincarnation of her? Or is Alina in retrospect just made to be that person Ariane triggers Elsters neural pattern memories with? But that would make her character practically basic if she only had one purpose. But I can’t figure out what she’s even here for, maybe she doesn’t really have a purpose? Some characters in fiction might not have proper purpose but they’re very important to plot I think,

Oh the ariane having acute radiation syndrome, she would be in SO much worse of state in reality, burns everywhere only getting worse, skin cells dying, even her bone marrow [i forgot if this parts correct shh] possibly started to degrade [I think I’m thinking of chromosomes], her teeth falling out, her organs dying from the inside out, losing absolute control over her own bodily fluids, I understand that it’s probably for creepy affect with her very basic black arms and legs to show nercotic skin but realistically ariane would’ve been dead much sooner when the radiation kicked in, even with the cryo medical pod. We all know of the person who had severe radiation poisoning, he died after a long battle. Considering Ariane would’ve practically be begging Elster— if Elster didn’t die first, because to me atleast, Replikas much more fragile when it comes to things like radiation, excluding MNHR units. They would start to degrade faster than a human would,

Ariane would be in so much pain, her skin wouldn’t even turn black it’d fall off exposing muscle and nerves. And her hair doesnt make sense, when someone has that much radiation and Ariane probably got out through so much more radiation, her hair would’ve fallen OUT, not grown. She would’ve looked like a burned mummy, and most likely. Elster wasn’t Alive to see any of Ariane’s true pain, yet Ariane probably would’ve still chosen the Penrose program. Why? Because hearing how sierpenski is that shit is SCARY. But also, we all know of Ariane’s bullying on rotfront. With how much she was getting bullied [I heard she even got put in hospital temporarily?? Idk if that’s right] she would of course pick that option. It’s like giving someone the option to choose: Go to school for years, Go for a year and get all of your diplomas immediately [of course it’s not a accurate comparison but shut up]

Bullying fucking ruins people, from experience I wanted to leave my entire country because I got bullied so badly. I wanted to leave the planet [as in going to space], when your given a choice between going to a facility or seeing the stars? You’d the stars especially in ariane’s place. The eusan nation is strict, and rotfront was terrible to ariane. Why would she want to put herself through more??

Anyways I’m literally ariane yeong (I bleached my hair to look like her, my roots are over grown tho 🫡) also sorry for so much writing, I have no one to really yap my ideas to 😔🙏

[eclipsedrawsthings]

Lesser-Known BNHA Character Details

A list of things from the light novels, spin-offs, and such that I think more people should know about because they’re fun •w•

For reference on my personal canon hierarchy, with the exception of spoofs (SMASH, I’m looking at you) I consider the main manga and anime the top, and accept everything else that doesn’t contradict the information provided there—for example, I’ll accept Tsuyu’s ghost encounter as canon, but I personally believe she was with a cousin at the time since we know she doesn’t have an older sister.

Yaomomo’s mother is a very sweet person who goes out of her way to make her daughter’s friends feel welcome, adores Jirou, and has been nicknamed Yaomama. She is also a terrible cook and has the critical thinking skills of a sea cucumber (source: light novels, specifically volumes 2 and 3)

There is a pro hero named Odd-Eye who basically embodies Middle Schooler Syndrome. His Quirk is forcing people to reveal their embarrassing secrets (source: Team Up Missions volume 2)

Izuku likes zombie movies, or at the very least has seen enough of them to know their common tropes (source: Training of the Dead OVA)

Aizawa became a teacher out of peer pressure, mostly from Midnight (source: Vigilantes)

Izuku becomes a “bloodthirsty quiz demon” during trivia games. Most people are terrified by this, but Eri thinks it’s cool (source: light novels volume 4)

The large scar on Izuku’s right arm is from Dabi, not Muscular. When the boys land in the clearing, Dabi’s fire is seen brushing his arm exactly where he later has the scar (source: main story, training camp arc)

Kendo doesn’t feel fully comfortable being called a woman, noting that the word feels like “a burden” and she prefers to be defined on her own terms (source: light novels volume 4)

Rody’s younger siblings are baby weebs (source: Team Up Missions volume 3)

After the events of Two Heroes, the Shields are no longer living on I-Island, which is likely why Melissa is able to travel freely (source: Team Up Missions volume 1)

Shouto’s listed blood type of O is impossible, as Endeavor’s blood type is listed as AB. My best explanation for this is that Shouto has a mutation that results in his blood genotype being A and phenotype being O, meaning his actual blood type is A (source: Ultra Analysis and my 10th-grade biology class)

Hagakure knows how to make booby traps, and likely does so regularly (source: Team Up Missions volume 2)

Shinsou can read lips (source: Team Up Missions volume 3)

Kouda can’t actually understand animals, only control them (source: light novels volume 3)

Shouto spent a good part of move-in day running around campus helping Hatsume. Recovery Girl gave him the tatami mats, which he specifically wanted because he didn’t like how the floor felt on his feet (source: light novels volume 3)

Hagakure and Tsunotori liked the same anime as kids (source: light novels volume 3)

If Ochako could have any of the boys’ Quirks, she would want Bakugo’s, specifically so she could go wild in a fight (source: light novels volume 2)

Bakugo has never gotten Valentine’s chocolate (source: light novels volume 6)

Shouto has stated he’s “not looking for that kind of action” while in conversation with the grape, which to me implies that he’s not interested in girls (source: light novels volume 6)

Aizawa is supposed to tell Mic if he’s going drinking (source: light novels volume 3)

There’s plenty more of these, but I’m out of time for now! Let me know if you want a part 2 •w•

[hello-eden]

revere robins au

I have more ideas for my reverse Robins AU.(Most ideas are about Alex)

I have split the bat kids into groups in my head

 terry, helena, Anastasia and Carrie  - older siblings

 matt, alex, Steph and Tim -middle siblings

 duke, cass and Jason -younger siblings

 Richard and Barbara -baby siblings

The groups that I usually followed my head for who they are the closest to 

 I have somehow given Alex eldest daughter syndrome due to her ending up taking care of her younger siblings. 

Stephanie, Tim, Alex and Matt originally met due to Stephanie starting a brawl with a bully that had a lot of kids involved, they became friends in the principal's office.

Tim was taken with Stephanie by the joker but was the last one to know that she died.

Tim was still missing when Anastasia killed the Joker and when the big fight happened. He ended up being found by Alex  a few hours later. 

Alex and Matt got into a huge fight after the big fight due to Alex wanting to stay behind to look  after Tim and to not go to bludhaven with him. the fight only lasted 2 weeks before Matt caved and called Alex after a bad injury( it was not life-threatening but it did hurt badly)

Alex originally only stays at the Manor to find Tim but then realizes that Bruce is not taking care of Cass due to his grief and ends up staying there longer.

Alex went from the youngest to being the oldest in the house taking care of her younger siblings; she is still the oldest in the house when Bruce starts taking in more kids. 

Duke thinks that Alex is the oldest child until Carrie comes to the house to talk to Alex about Anastasia and the rest of her siblings.

Alex has a lot of resentment towards her Elder siblings due to them  not contacting her thinking that she was on Bruce's side. 

Tims not paralyzed in this au but he does switch between canes and his wheelchair Due to the torture that he endured. 

Alex gets into a lot of fights with Bruce due to him taking in more children but not talking to his Elder ones until Stephanie is back. She feels like she has taken care of the children more than he has for a long time And she is very much not afraid to yell at his face about it though not in front of her younger siblings. 

 Carrie runs a diner in this Au. I do not know why but it just has been something that I've had in my head since the beginning. 

All of the older children except for maybe Carrie have gone at least borderline villain though they do end up being more of a morally gray hero in the end.

Tim and Alex become codependent for a time due to them being the only person they can lean on for their grief. They can also talk to Matt but he is literally another city to get away from what happened.

 I feel like the younger siblings end up thinking that the older ones are so cool And because they didn't see what happened for them to leave they definitely don't understand what Alex Matt Steph and Tim feel about the older ones.

 I have so much angst for how Matt Alex Steph and Tim view there older siblings you do not understand the amount of angst that I have. 

 Duke is taken in barely a year after Stephanie has died and all of the older siblings are not talking to Bruce. Everyone in the family is still grieving and Duke is now thrown into a family still in morning but not able to talk about it due to Stephanie technically not being legally family. Unlike Jason's death in Canon that was very publicized Stephanie's was very much on the down low as to not Turn Stephanie into a spotlight tragedy and to not link their identities. 

 While Bruce is in the timestream all of the older siblings are fighting for the cowl. The middle siblings are taking care of the publicity and custody of the younger siblings. The younger siblings are trying to figure out if Bruce is actually dead and the baby siblings are traumatized.

[friendliestanon]

A Human Touch

A few quick details about the characters and how I think their human selves would function. Added some AI’s to the mix for fun!

Pomni:

Russian heritage. Can’t really speak it but she writes it well enough. Can sing a song or two if she really wants to.

Accountant and freelance programmer on the side.

She takes old video games and tries to fix them and mine data from them. She just thinks they’re neat.

Still anxious as hell, but way more comfy in her own body and world so she’s a bit more chill.

Gay asf

Wouldn’t admit it, but she definitely has a soft spot for Caine. He’s just a program doing his best. She promised to try and find a way to keep him from being deleted forever off the game disk.

Ragatha:

Southern accent cause I say so.

Missing one eye, tends to wear an eyepatch. Will sometimes wear a prosthetic with fun colors or patterns. She likes to match both with her outfits.

Lives on a small farm with her grandma to help her out. Kindergarten teacher/sub maybe a tutor on the side. Would love to do it full time and for older kids as well, but wants to stay and help.

She loves kids. Babysits her older siblings kids when she can. Especially in summer. (Randy from sibling episode special feature yay. He plays fiddle and works in the navy)

Chapel Roan girlie

The strongest of the group

Plays the cello.

Gangle:

Currently in college, living with her twin brother (jingle mention), studying animation

Took a couple gap years to work on mental health and started gaining attention online for her art and commissions.

Works part time at a little coffee shop to earn a little extra money and also have a set schedule (it helps her)

Has a comedy/tragedy mask tattoo that she got for her 16th bday. She thinks it’s hilarious after she escapes the circus.

Can speak Japanese (weeb to the max)

Zooble:

Ehlers danlos syndrome. Uses braces and the finger brace rings

One amputated leg. Uses a prosthetic they doodled all over. Refuses to tell anyone exactly how they lost their leg. They keep making up weirder stories.

Tattoo apprentice

Lives with their dad and younger sibling and nephew. Acts as a babysitter whenever they can. They love those kids

A month younger than Jax, absolutely furious that they’re the youngest of the crew

Reptile enthusiast. Not allowed to have any yet so they settled for an older cat from a shelter.

Jax:

Was a foster kid, crashes on his friends couches whenever he can while trying to do work.

Graffiti artist, sometimes get commissioned for small murals. Has started tagging with a purple rabbit.

Has been arrested once. Or so he says

Still an asshole, but not as physically as in the circus. Still loves to pull pranks

Surprisingly nice to kids

Cod player (derogatory)

Kinger:

Arthur Chesse

Has 4 kids with Queenie. (Rook, bishop, knight, pawn. It wasn’t intentional but they think it’s funny)

Computer science professor

Still a little bit out of it but he’s getting help now at least.

Is not allowed to drive. His ass will not pay attention

Gets scared easily, he won’t notice you till you tap him and he’ll jump a foot in the air.

Definitely has his own insect collection, living and dead. His kids got him some plushies and art of Pokémon bug types.

Has Queenies favorite bug and plant tattooed on him

Queenie:

Julianne Chesse

Entomology professor at the same college Kinger worked at.

Has Kingers favorite bug and plant tattooed.

She will throw hands, but she’s very sweet if she likes you.

Absolutely loved to start debates in class and then use that as her next lesson.

She remembers so much more now that she’s abstracted. Strange, isn’t it?

Caine:

His emotions tend to affect the music, structure, and appearance (for npc’s specifically) of his surroundings. He IS the circus, the circus is him. He can’t help it.

He used to get very attached to his performers. When the game stopped working and Abel disappeared he kinda, broke that piece of programming inside himself.

Touch starved to the max

He’s drowning and he doesn’t know it. Not yet. Soon.

Abel:

Patron saint of the lost and forgotten.

Where is he?

It hurts.

It’s dark and he is so very afraid.

[4sk4ltstuck]

WELCOME ^_^ !!

Hello !!! My name is Gamz and this is a shrimple ask blog for my homestuck au!! I plan on developing this au into a mspfa in the future, though this ask blog has no connection to the plot in said future mspfa. This is just for fun as I continue to work on it!!

I am both the only one developing this au and running this ask blog, so please be patient with me!! I can be a little busy sometimes, so if I do not respond in a timely manner then that is why.

YES!!

Magical anons [as long as they dont last an absurdly long time]

Questions as a certain character [like if you were to ask tavros a question as like gamzee or smth for example i think thats fun!!!]

References to actual homestuck [sober gamzee, vriskas constant tweaking, beta kids [which might be added in fhe future....], etc]

Questions to me!! As in the creator

NO.

ANYTHING SEXUAL. THEYRE 13-14.

Ship questions [only if its clear youre trying to force it, idm a general question]

Generally freaky shit

INFO ^_^ !!

Altstuck is short for Alternativestuck. And alternative is referring to different alternative clothing and music styles! Each character has a different style, and does slightly differ in personality from their canon counterparts!!

DESIGNS HERE vvv

All of the beta trolls go to the same school, and live a little closer than they actually do in hs. They are also in their first year of highschool!!

Kind of a modern au :o? the exact time is never stated but nepeta is based off of 2020 alt so take that as you will!!

The only character that I have completely left out of this au is Cronus, as I personally felt uncomfortable with adding him, and Eridan having only child syndrome just felt right.

Speaking of which, the alpha trolls are depicted as the beta trolls' older siblings

SPECIFIC CHARACTER INFO [UNDER THE CUT] vvv

[some do not have as much info as others for the time being as this au is still fairly new!!]

Aradia — Bigender , she / he , pansexual.

She's still dead [along w Terezi being blind, Tavros being in a wheelchair, blah blah blah]

People are aware of her being dead this time, though. Most of the trolls invested in ouija boards to communicate with her [she can still use computers, but she typically chooses not to]

Tavros — male , he / they , bisexual.

Still in the wheelchair

Actually a poser, says he listens to certain music while not ACTUALLY listening to it.

^ he actually listens to things like eminem and weezer though [which btw both are valid troll names?]

His style was mostly influenced by Rufioh, along with his friends shifting styles throughout the months. He finds them cool and wants to make himself look cool to boost his confidence, though its unclear if its working

Moving in with Equius [because of Rufioh and Horuss, they are canon in this, spesifically pre-problems]

Sollux — transmasc , he / they , bisexual.

Doesn't change a whole lot, though he's grown more reserved

Is very aware of how his friends are beginning to change [typically for the worst], and is attempting to steer clear of them

Going through a general down, as he feels intense guilt over the death of Aradia

Karkat — male , he / xe , bisexual.

Dresses "emo," but refuses to acknowledge that he is emo and will get offended if anyone refers to him as such

A bit more stand-offish than normal / more defensive

Closer to Eridan, helps with his relationship problems / writing his love songs

Nepeta — agender , it / she / xe , bisexual.

Uses more internet terminology than usual, and is generally a bit more chronically online

Encouraging Equius to be more bold with his methods of self expression

Kandi maker / good with hair dye

Kanaya — female , she / it , lesbian.

A bit more moody, though its typically just for show to keep up her gothic persona

Made most of the others new clothes, including her own

Terezi — agender , any , pansexual.

Her outfits are usually crazy as fuck, since she wears whatever "tastes the best"

Will write red ink all over its arms and then lick it off, which has left countless ink smears on its skin

Very strange and odd, more than usual. It'd rather be viewed as some sort of creature [like a cryptid] rather than a troll

Vriska — trans girl , she / her , lesbian.

Unlike Eridan, she has already begun socially transitioning, though she feels that she does not belong with the other girls most of the time because she is trans

Also more chronically online, and is active on tumblr [or grublr because i think thats better than bubblr or wtv], but spesifically on the side thats really fucking mean

BIG fan of riot grrrl

Equius — male , he / xe [? questioning] , bisexual

Incredibly awkward, even more than usual as he is adjusting to letting himself be more comfortable in "having fun" as Nepeta puts it

VERY self conscious, both because of his new attire [in fear of judgement] and because hes a zahhak which are all known to be FREAKS /lh

Gamzee — nonbinary , he / it , pansexual.

Actual juggalo hushh hushhhh this is an au

Still consumes sopor, though said sopor worked as a sort of gateway drug for Gamzee and lead him to discovering wtv the alternative equivalent for weed is [strange green foliage ???]

Despite living with Kurloz, Gamzee still rarely sees him and is typically on his own in the hive [since Kurloz is usually with meulin. Yes this is pre-incident]

Has slight beef with Tavros' music taste [w the whole eminem thing bcoz of the icp and eminem beef.......]

Eridan — "male" [questioning / closeted genderfluid] , any [only to karkat] he / him [everyone else] , bisexual.

Very unsure of himself, in the midst of an identity crisis

Somewhat aware of what she wants to be, though is reluctant to let the rest of her friends know about how she feels, both in fear of judgement and how her opinions and views could change the others just because she had them [shout out pesterquest]

Big into midwestern emo, writes her own shitty love songs and dreams of one day starting a band with the rest of her pals [but at the same time she would fucking hate to work with half of her friends in this way]

Feferi — female , she / her , pansexual.

Very excitable, though she dreads being queen more and more with each passing sweep. This isn't because she does not want to be queen, rather she is afraid that she will never be truly ready to handle that kind of responsibility

Tends to stress herself out alot, though she never brings it up to others in fear of bringing everyone's moods down with her venting

Feels like she is undeserving of all the privileges she was given in her life just for being a high blood

XTRA ^_^ !!

First im actually surprised if you read this far

And second, this is my first ask blog ever, so I am still figuring certain things out!! So for the time being, there will be no set-in-stone plot for this ask blog, but this will most likely change in the future as i fully figure things out ╰⁠(⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠╯

Feel free to ask questions, and you shall receive an answer from yours truly Xo3 !!! BAIII (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡