#ego living up to their name by being the only one in the system who wanted to be drawn lol
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[id: two images next to each other. they are both flat color reference sheets. the one on the left is of yanny owens, a pale demon with short, round horns, pale grey hair and eyes, and wide scars around their wrists, ankles, and neck. the one on the right is of ego (spelled with a backwards capital e symbol), a version of ena with a wiggly purple left side and geometric orange right side. it wears a beige collared shirt and dark brown suspenders, pants, and shoes. to the right of its full body picture are 7 facial variations. end id]
a couple of ref sheets for artfight! probably will do some more for tea, and maybe kris and markus if i'm feeling ambitious. these will be posted to my profile Soon!
#my silly art#ego living up to their name by being the only one in the system who wanted to be drawn lol
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Fancy
Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3
MDNI
Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.
Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.
Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.
You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.
This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.
You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.
The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.
The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.
You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.
It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.
It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.
“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.
You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”
“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.
“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“
“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”
Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…
“You paying attention?” He grunts.
Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”
“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.
Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…
With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!
Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.
You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.
You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.
Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.
They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.
“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”
“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.
“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“
“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”
“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.
“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.
“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.
Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.
The illusion of luxury only goes so far.
“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.
“No, sir.”
“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.
John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.
“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”
John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”
“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?
John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”
“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.
“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”
“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”
“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“
“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.
How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.
Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.
“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.
You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.
Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.
“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“
“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”
“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”
“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”
“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.
“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.
Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.
“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”
John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”
“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.
“If you say so.”
“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”
“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.
“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.
It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.
You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.
Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.
“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.
“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.
“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.
Prey. You’re just prey.
“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.
“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.
“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”
“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.
“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”
The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.
It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.
“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.
You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.
“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”
“I’m okay...” You whisper.
“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.
A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.
John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.
Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.
You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”
They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.
You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.
“I’m sure.”
John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.
“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.
Strange.
“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.
John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.
A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”
Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.
Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.
How much is this? A thousand? More?
With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.
You didn’t even get to say thank you.
Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.
What do they think you did?
Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.
How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?
Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.
The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?
There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.
It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.
Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!
For now, at least, you can bask in it.
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghoap#ghost x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#fem reader#plus size reader#fat reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#vampire au#john price x reader#john price#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#ghoap x reader#ghostsoap#john price x you#captain price#The brain worms!!!#They got me!!!!#🫡#I love vampire aus it’s time I finally made one
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I have this Shang Qinghua hc where he’s an actual all-out BAMF. Like, he knows how to kick ass and take names. He can fight better than everyone, he’s powerful af, and he’s practically perfect at anything he does. He created the PIDW world, and he bends it to his will. Like, he’s legit a God™️. And he keeps that tidbit to himself, but sometimes he has trouble hiding it.
One time he beat Liu Qingge in a brutal training fight (one that SQH didn’t even want to participate in), but accidentally-on-purpose trips and hurts himself afterwards, making everyone believe it was a one-off thing.
He’s a better cook than Luo Binghe, although no one knows that until the chef for A Ding gets sick and SQH has a bunch of starving kids to deal with.
SQH is also super charming and naturally flirtatious. He’s on the logistics peak, meaning he has to talk to merchants and negotiate prices and deals. He has a fucking silver tongue. Not in a slimy way, but in the same way as Binghe. (LBH got his personality from somewhere.) SQH’s charm was partially what got Mobei Jun to be interested enough not to kill him when they were teens.
SQH can use The System to his advantage and become omnipotent if he wanted to. He doesn’t, because it takes a lot of work, but he could. In fact, he hacked The System when he was still an infant, it does whatever he tells it. Including giving him infinity points. Sometimes it’ll give him a mission, but SQH treats it like an annoying pop-up ad.
SQH is ruthless, manipulative, and can crush anyone like an ant mentally, physically and emotionally. He actually put a lot of himself into LBH while writing the book. And he kind of regrets that because the two really can’t stand each other due to how similar they are. Although LBH doesn’t realize it.
His cultivation is top tier. He’s actually the strongest cultivator in the world—but it wasn’t because he worked his ass off. He just rigged the game.
I can see him acting pathetic and dramatic to deflect because then he’s underestimated af. Also, the fake tears? His son does the same exact thing. But SQH on the inside is highly amused by everything. Especially Binghe. He loves his son, and knows what LBH is capable of, but it only makes him laugh. Internally, of course. Like, this whole world is hilarious to him.
SQH is smart and because these are his creations, he can outsmart any of them. It’s lonely though, being a God among men. So, instead of using his actual abilities, he doesn’t. Why would he interfere with anyone’s lives? Why do anything for people who were cruel towards him at times, not realizing they should fear him. He has an ego, but at the same time what was the point? He’s a selfish and lazy God™️.
When Shen Yuan transmigrates into SQQ he becomes the only person Shang Qinghua doesn’t know how to read. And it’s refreshing, it makes SQH feel human for the first time in decades.
TL:DR - HC that SQH is a literal God™️ but keeps it a secret. He prefers being an underestimated dude.
#can someone write this?#this post was longer than expected#svsss shen yuan#mxtx#mxtx svsss#headcanon#svsss shen qingqiu#svsss luo binghe#hc#svsss mobei jun#scum villian self saving system#svsss shang qinghua#svsss shitpost#scum villain#svsss liu qingge#mxtx characters#shang qinghua
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Gotham Headcannons: If you work for the GCPD (cop or other not specified)
~~
He cares
A lot
But tries to play it off like he doesn’t and that he completely trusts you
(He doesn’t)
The type of guy to try and weave his way into your conversations and try a figure out information
Goes on your laptop and phone so don’t leave those out if you have confidential info
Will accuse you of spying like 2 times a week with his whole dramatic hand wavy thingy
Give him little tidbits of information that are not important and he will trust you more
He lives for the office drama
Especially if Gordon is involved
All in all why would you do this to yourself
4/10 being generous
Pre-Riddler
Leaves you riddles and cupcakes on your desk because he gets into work before you
Will stop by once or twice a day to say hi and chat
Lunch together is a mandatory and it’s great
You usually eat down in his office as the other employees tease him for being able to find a partner
Simply stroke his ego a bit and he’ll be fine
Will totally ramble about his work and let you do the same if you want
Great talker and listener
9/10 cause he’s a little awkward but it’s ok
Post-Riddler
Manipulation is a word that comes to mind
He will, without fail, attempt to get you to spill information about how the GCPD is doing on catching him
You usually tell him cause it’s not confidential
That’s a gateway to more questions though so be careful
Your relationship will be a lot better if you knew him pre-riddler but he still loves you even if he didn’t
When he’s in his “Penguins bitch” phase he so saunters into the office and leans against your desk
Be warned though other officers hate you for dating him
4/10 in general he’s good but why are you dating a cop killer?
A true neutral
Doesn’t give a shit to be honest
He’s an assassin not a spy so he won’t pry for info except when it comes for him (wants to know about Alvarez)
You indulge him with the gossip and he eats it all up
Sassy queen will protect your name if anyone makes a comment about you being a cop
He may not like the system but you’ve showed him that even cops have a good side
He finds it ironic
No one knows you’re dating obviously because that’s a line neither of you will cross
Especially due to his line of work
All in all a pretty normal relationship 8/10
He is so happy to have someone who is a cop like him
That doesn’t stop him from being worried as shit about you
Totally that guy who’s like “oh a really dangerous case? I’ll take it” and then proceeds to double check your work without asking
Talk some sense into him please
His hero complex needs to be brought down a notch
You are capable and he knows that he just worries
After all like everyone he ever dated turned somewhat insane
So
Watch out for that
Harvey teases you guys and does that “if you hurt my brother I’ll kill you” stuff
Don’t be scared of him he’s fine
ANYWAY
Don’t bring up penguin
Ever
He will become a whiny bitch and no one wants that
All in like 6/10 cause he’s a workaholic and a mansplainer
He thinks it hot
You and a gun put together makes him feel things
But he totally puts on that “I only date dainty women so fuck off” the first time so smack some sense into him as well
Unlike Jim trusts you more with his job than himself
Will ask you to double check his cases if he feels a little off about it
He worries though
He hasn’t had great relationship success because of his personality so if you like brash Irish men this is your guy
You actually help him stop drinking it’s wonderful
He still does on a hard case but not as much as he used to
7/10 he’s great if you’re into him
Little Miss Barbie has a little temper Tantrum but that’s ok
You can’t blame her, her ex made her go insane and he was a cop
Ensure her that you’re nothing like him and maybe feed her a little info and yall are fine again
The type of person to call you at work and ask how you’re doing and if you can get out early so you guys can hang out
You usually say yes because dumping cases in Gordon is so fun
Plus you think he likes it so it’s no biggy
Tell Barbara you make his life a living hell and she will marry you right then and there
Don’t go to her club during her business meetings though that’s a mess no one wants to
All in all like a 6/10 cause of her mood swings but you can deal with that
Unhappy little man
Will either use you for information or kill you
But
If you somehow manage to weasel your way into his heart with your loving personality
He begins not to give a shit
Or pretends
He care and he doesn’t like it
And may kill you at a moment notice
But for now you’re good
2/10 you’re probably dead or being used
Again literally nothing on him he hates cops and bombed the entire city
Death is the most likely outcome
Or manipulation for information
More like that Ecco will kill your first rather than Jeremiah
1/10 dead probably or close to it
#Gotham#Gotham x reader#Jeremiah valeska x reader#Jerome valeska x reader#Jim Gordon x reader#Harvey bullock x reader#Barbara keen x reader#Oswald Cobblepot x reader#Edward nygma x reader#the penguin x reader#the riddler x reader#GCPD#DC
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Majin~ idk if my original ask sent so I'm gonna send it again just in case, Tumblr must find my asks delicious bc they get eaten like 85% of the time 🥲
Hello! Idk it you're taking requests now, or if you've already done this prompt/theme before, but I was wondering what it'd be like to be one of the many people Johnny flirts with on base, and you brush it off bc he's such a flirt. And yes, while Johnny will flirt with just about anyone bc thats his default setting, he's low-key going out of his mind bc he wants you to see that with you, it's different! It's genuine and sincere! What will it take for you to realize that the only person he's got a huge crush on is you?
Idk just wanted to see this from your perspective! No worries if you don't feel like writing anything for this, still love ya!! 😘
hey anon, sorry for the wait, getting my groove back slowly, but here it is. i might do another version of this some other time tho bc i had another vision for it but ended up with this
You don't know why he's been so affectionate with you lately. His playful flirting has gotten excessive, too. It's weird. He's being weird.
It's not like you dislike the attention, but you know he doesn't mean anything by it. That's just how he is. You know you're firmly designated as ‘friend’ in his eyes. A painful fact you've known ever since he made that comment to his ex about never seeing you in a different light because you ‘weren't his type.’
Yeah, that stung a bit, and you were a little offended, but that was more ego talking and less romantic feelings at the time.
Unfortunately, things have changed. Feelings have changed. Yours, specifically.
You don't quite remember when exactly it happened, but you know it was sometime during the last few months of his last relationship. That was an agonizing time, and over a year since the end of that relationship plus several flings later, you're still pathetically pining over a man who will never see you as anything more than a friend because quote ‘he could never be attracted to someone who wasn’t his type’ unquote.
Now, you have to put on a smile and pretend it doesn't make your heart malfunction whenever he flashes that dimpled smile at you, or when he rests an arm over your shoulder while he walks next to you calling you all sorts of pet names he's never called you before. Not to mention all the times he feeds you a piece of his lunch, and when he grabs your wrist and makes you feed him. That barely scratches the surface of his newfound behavior around you.
Soap has never shown you more flirtation than the usual shallow amount he gives to anyone he's not dating. To be bathed in it out of nowhere is a shock to your system. An enigma you can't comprehend, nor are you eager to question it lest you lose his sudden affection. And despite the delusional part of you wishing he meant something by it, deep down you know it's simply false hope making you imagine the romantic adoration reflecting in those pretty ocean blues of his.
“–so what do you say?”
“I'm sorry, what?” You blink a few times, trying to force yourself to focus on Soap and not how bright his eyes are, or how warm his body feels pressed up against yours with his arm slung around your shoulder. He's so close, it's making your heart do fireworks.
“I asked if you wanna meet up next time we're on leave? We rarely hang out outside of work and drinks at the pub.”
“I can't.” It's not that you don't want to, but you don't really see the logic behind it, either. “One, we don’t live remotely close to each other, and two, I have family coming to visit.”
Soap laughs at your excuses, tightening his arm and pulling you impossibly closer. “That just means I can meet them, love! I've been meaning to sight see where you’re from anyway!”
It's your turn to bark out an incredulous laugh. “Sight see what? Soap, the city I live in is shit.”
“Och, can't be that bad if the locals are half as lovely as you, darlin’.”
“That was terrible!” You giggle, nearly doubling over at his cheesy flirtation, but despite yourself, you can't stop the fluttering in your heart, hoping he doesn't realize how much you actually like his attention and stupid charming words, or how you can barely share the same space with him without feeling like your chest is going to burst, or the obvious hearts in your eyes every time you look at him. “Please tell me you use better lines than that!”
Soap pays no mind to your laughter with that lopsided smile on his lips. He stares at you with those stupid, pretty blue eyes, strong arm still around you almost as if he's staking some kind of claim on you, like a leash or collar. You wish that was the case. You'd give anything to be marked as his.
“They seemed to work for me so far.”
“Oh, really?”
“Aye.”
“Psh, then save the cheese for someone you want.”
“What if I want you?”
“What?” He sounds so earnest you have to stop a moment, shrugging off his arm, and turning to face him. Soap doesn’t flinch, staring back at you with such intensity you laugh uncomfortably to ease the growing tension in your chest. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Soap. You almost got me.”
“I’m being serious. I want you.”
“Since when?”
It’s a genuine question. You’re not playing dumb intentionally–well, maybe a little–but after so long of pining after him, this is something you need him to spell out for you. Even then, a part of you is ready to laugh off whatever he says next.
Because what you have with Soap doesn’t go any deeper than a close friendship. It never has and never will be anything more than that. Even when you want it to be more, you know he’d never love someone like you.
“Soap?” You tilt your head at him when he doesn’t answer. His smile has dropped and he’s looking at you with that cute frown of his you’ve always loved. The one when he’s deep in thought, doing all sorts of calculations or analysis on whatever has him stumped.
“I don’t know how I can be any clearer, hen.” He talks slowly. Low and soft as if in disbelief. “Thought I’ve been obvious with my flirtin.”
“We ‘flirt’ all the time!” You laugh, trying to deflect the growing hope you feel. “We’re friends, Soap. Stop messing with me! Besides, I know I’m not your type.”
Surprisingly, he sounds offended when he asks, “Where’d you get that idea?”
“What, that I’m not your type? You said it.”
“When?”
“When you were with what’s-her-face? The crazy possessive instagram model.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’, that always stuck with me, so thanks for that.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
You give a derisive laugh. “Then why’d you say it?”
“She was insecure.” Soap furrows his brows in regret, running a hand through his mohawk. “I thought I liked her at the time, so I said it to make her feel better. She didn't like you.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” You mutter bitterly. “I respected boundaries, and she always thought I was trying to ‘steal you from her.’”
Soap mumbles under his breath, “Don’t think I would have complained if you did.”
“What was that?”
“Nothin’, bon.” He sighs, the tension falling out of his shoulders before he squares them again, staring at you in a way that makes your breath catch. “Listen. I know it might be hard to believe, but I’m not takin’ the piss. If you give me the chance, let me prove how serious I am about you.”
“Soap…”
“Darlin’...”
Fuck. A flash of those blue eyes and you can feel yourself hope. Would it really hurt to give in? Just this once? Maybe, maybe not.
Sighing, you inwardly scold yourself knowing you’re jumping headfirst into the unknown, but…
“Fine. One chance.”
Soap’s never broken that trust before, and from the grin on his face, it tells you he’ll always be there to catch you.
“One chance is all I need.”
#bangus answers#anon#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soapy thoughts :]
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I'm not going to be able to write my typical long rambles for a bit (need to catch up on important work), but here's a short list of things I wanna talk about with the latest canto.
Spoilers, of course.
The entire Canto taking place after the ending of Don Quixote (the first Don, I will not call him the Actual Don because our Don is as much Don Quixote as he is) is not something I expected, but makes so much sense and made for a wonderful story. There are themes of identity, struggling to live under a broken system and GOD THE FAMILIAL TIES. THE FIGHT AGAINST THE TWO MIDBOSSES + THE PRIEST HAD SUCH MAGNIFICENT STORY BUILD UP. AND THE PRIEST'S ENTIRE MOVESET. UGGGH I WANNA TALK ABOTU IT
Hey. Outis. What did you mean by that. We all know what I'm talking about, right? This is the first time I know of that she's actually given even a smidge of info about herself somewhat directly. Somewhat. Everything else is just in how she knows things and acts. Here she is asking a very specific question and god, I need to know more about her now.
Good job Sinclair. And everyone else. But good job Sinclair.
Vergilius with Sanson's face/mask is cursed.
I continue to feel so so bad for the Bloodfiends. They did the best they could in a world that gave them only two horrible options. I couldn't help but compare La Manchaland to the Tokyo Ghoul:RE ending, because the hemobars reminded me of the artificial meat, except in TG:RE it worked and here, well. We saw how that went. I think it's a great idea to start with the after of their solution; this isn't a situation with a possible solution, they tried that and failed. Who knows if there is one that works? Does it matter now that they're all dead?
I'm going to be very weird about Camille once this is all said and done, but I do want to note that the pretty boy being turned into a flower and having a name very clearly gotten from Carmilla the flower (and maybe the book? Haven't read it yet so idk if he's taken from there) is very cheeky. I still wish I could've besting him up myself. This isn't me critiquing the writing, this is me being weird.
The QTE in the ending cutscene of the boss fight was cool and really added to the feeling of fighting against and overcoming a clearly superior foe.
I wanna hug Don Quixote the First. He's such a ray of sunshine and deserved better. Even if he was somewhat delusional, at least he genuinely cared for his family.
What happened to Hong Lu's sister? Did she just vanish? I didn't notice until later on, so I'll probably need to go back and check myself.
Bari is the Librarian of Death (edit: Nameless Bookhunter, thanks for the correction AE)? Idfk and idc for now. If Bari ends up showing up again or a moot of mine decides they wanna talk about it, maybe I'll look into it.
The familial themes here are most certainly also going to be related to Hong Lu's story, which once more is a reason I really should get to reading all the books for this game.
Ryoshu accepting death from the possibility of fighting Don Qui the second was really funny.
The abno fights here are really good, and I love how Limbus is making unbreakable coins the standard from now on. Makes it so you can't just blaze through fights taking no damage, and these battles genuinely feel difficult. That's good. Their designs and mechanics are also pretty easy to understand and match with their ego gifts pretty well. God I wish we had more Rupture ids that could stack as much count as the Lasso abno.
Sancho fight was cool as hell. The clashable 10 speed skill was so good and made it feel like a massive improvement on the Cassetti fight. So good. On use coin power did mess me up a little given it doesn't show up in the clash numbers, but that was on me for not reading tbh.
Fun fact: final boss can be Meatlantern soloed really easily. So easy in fact that that's how I cleared it. Doing it with a full team didn't end well for me. The solo's also really consistent, which is nice.
Mili song is really good. As usual. I need to go listen to it again. I need an in-game mix. I need it. The childishness of Sancho's side of the tune compared with the seriousness of first Don's side is lovely.
Also. Please, in the final clash where you use Don's base ego. I hope you looked at the name of the ego and the name of Don the First's attack. Please. It's such a good detail. And it's so much better when you remember that Sancho was always the one making weapons for Don. He calls Sancho's lances much more graceful than his. It's so lovely. You can tell these two genuinely love each other. It's so good.
Also the fact that basically every fixer we went in with got wiped out by weakened Bloodfiends really shows just how powerful these bloodfiends are. Camille had to resort to using ego gear to survive. Sheesh.
That'll be all for now. Expect a long ramble on any of these points when I'm more free, aka never.
#unma rambles#limbus company#limbus company spoilers#canto vii spoilers#unma's in-depth ramblings#short list he says#sure.
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Villain: Jysh'parun, Outergod of Unwelcoming Earth
As distant and ancient as a mountain, as scornful as an axebitten tree
Many philosophies debate and negotiate the relation of mortals to their environment. Some see nature as a thing to be tamed in the name of survival, domesticated, exploited. Others proffer a more symbiotic path, a holistic system to be protected and stewarded.
Beyond these there are the ravings of those claimed by Jysh'parun, who claim that mortals have no right to exist at all, and survive merely by the beneficence of the trees and stones. While all but the most foolish agree that heed must be paid to nature, none but those under the unwelcoming earths dominion would think that there is some geological-feudal hierarchy to which we must all submit.
This then is the paradox of the Unbowing Mountain: a god that claims the worship of things that do not traditionally think, but views nature through a distinctly mortal lens of domination and hierarchy. It's an absurdity bordering on being a joke, atleast until Jysh'parun's influence washes over the land and the forest marches off to war while the rivers start demanding tribute.
Adventure Hooks:
Having come into possession of a disused tract of land, a young farming couple were picking the stones from their new field in preparation for planting when they came across the petrified remains of some indescribable horror. Resembling nothing so much as a horse sized mandrake-root with teeth, they've reached out to neighbours, the sheriff, even the local wizard looking for advice about what to do... only to wake up one morning and find the thing gone. Theft or reanimation are both equally alarming possibilities, and the whole region has been on edge since.
Having been thought dead for years after being lost in a winter storm, a dwarven cartographer descends from the mountains claiming to be their mouthpiece and demanding sacrifices in their name. Her words at first go unheeded, at least until the glacial rivers begin to run with noxious acid, transforming back only when something living is thrown in. Farms and villages are drying out and grisly offerings of livestock now fail to meet her standards she claims the mountains will only be satisfied when the people of the realm throw their rulers in and swear fealty to the peaks on high.
The king's palace is in chaos after a coup took place in the royal gardens, specifically when the great tree that shaded his majesty's favourite thinking bench stabbed him in the back with one of it's branches and then skampered off to replant itself on the throne with the crown in tow. Before Anyone knew what was happening, greenery had overtaken the palace locking most outside while trapping certain vital hostages inside.
Inspirations: Something that's all too often lost in the "madness and tentacles" misinterpretation of eldritch horror is that much of the genre is spun off from the particular phobias of HP lovecraft. When we use the iconography without understanding the anxieties behind it, we risk creating a shallow B movie version of the horror we want our audience to feel.
To write good horror then, we need to draw off fears we understand, and with Jysh'parun I wanted to tap into climate anxiety in a way I don't think I've seen before. We've all resigned ourselves to the fact that climate change is happening, with the understanding that its being driven by the bullheaded egos and greed of people who are so powerful their perspective on life bears no resemblance to anything we could possibly conceive of. Translate their willingness to let us suffer for the sake of profit into a psudo historical fantasy context and you get the Unwelcoming Earth: widening sinkholes that demand tolls from passersby while an approaching tsunami proclaims the divine right of kings. It's not only absurd it's fundamentally idiotic but that it doesn't mean it won't destroy you and everyone you know.
Worshippers: Delusional druids and geomancers. Goliaths and dwarvenkind who get too into being "children of the mountain". Sentient trees, Living crystals, and other elemental entities who seek to put themselves "above" other forms of life. Corrupted primoridals.
Signs: Aberrations that resemble roots or stone spontaneously emerging from nature, acid flowing from normally clear running springs, statues of lordly alien figures carved from erosion, not tools. Proclimations in an unknowable script engraved deep under the earth or on monumental scale.
Symbols: A glyph resembling a mountain range or branches of a tree in the shape of a crown.
Titles: The Unbowing Mountain, The Insuperable, King of all Corners,
Artsource
#outergod#lovecraftian#deity#divinity: earth#divinity: disaster#disaster#field#mountain#highlands#encounter mountain#encounter highlands#Jysh'parun
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Hey my dear mutual! Another super stupid and weird request coming, so, please, feel totally free to ignore completely if you want, really. So, let's say instead of a criminal organization, the Akatsuki are actually a lab team. Which would be their roles, their work focus or their research topics? How would they behave at work with each other or, I don't know, whatever you can think of. Inspired by your agar plates post, by the way, hahahaha
Hello Sasuke, my dear. Don't call your asks weird, I love how creative they are! If anyone wants to write a fic about this please TAG me!
Big thanks to @the-real-sasuke-uchiha for requesting!
The Akatsuki in a modern research lab AU
Akatsuki Labs, Inc. No one knows what they're actually researching, and how they get their funding, however everyone hires them, they're incredibly popular with institutions and businesses alike...
Deidara is a lab rookie who is still at the beginning of his study. He went to a scientific high school and an absolute ace at chemistry. Besides studying chemistry, his other major is pyrotechnical engineering. He blows shit up on the regular and even adds copper sulphate to fires when he is the one supposed to put them out. He frequently steals minerals from the lab to use them for his pottery projects. And yes, he knows how to make meth.
Hidan is on his way to become a neurologist. He is fascinated by the way the nervous system works (especially while processing pain) and has the ego of a neurosurgeon twice his age. However he is regularly asked for a second opinion because he knows his shit. He's pretty popular with the ladies due to his confidence, however many of them are freaked out when they find out what a huge masochist he is.
I've never seen Itachi as a huge stem guy, but I've actually had a discussion about this with my dear moots @pet-plasma-bubble and @suki91 and came to the conclusion that he's either a plant biologist or studies medicine because he's one of these kids with a chronic and/or underdiagnosed illness going into medicine to make a change. Plant biologist!Itachi regularly talks to his plants when no one is looking and he gives them names as well. He doesn't really care much for the actual lab work and prefers to take care of the plants in the different lab greenhouses. Med student!Itachi is one of these anatomy girlies who draw their stuff in fancy colors and actually enjoy studying human anatomy.
Kakuzu is a senior scientist/professor who initially studied pharmacology/pharmacy to save many lives and prolong the lives of millions, but eventually got disillusioned and sold his soul to the pharma industry. He should technically be retired now, but he joined the Akatsuki labs inc to make some money on the side.
Kisame started out as a marine biologist specializing in shark research, however, seeing these beautiful, innocent creatures get bastardized by Hollywood and pollution made him apply to Akatsuki labs inc to help find solutions to the current crises caused by humanity. During his free time, he volunteers in a dolphin rehabilitation center.
Konan is the cofounder of Akatsuki labs inc, everyone respects her and even looks up to her. Once a brilliant scientist in the field of engineering, she got tired of how male dominated it was and how her male colleagues kept getting the credit for her ideas. She frequently holds lab courses for young girls interested going into the scientific field.
Nagato is the Akatsuki labs founder, and rarely seen in the lab. He has made himself a name in the field of robotics by inventing the Shurado robotics system which helps millions of automated machines run to this day. Rarely seen in the lab, he communicated with his employees via his Pain Alias Email. though to be fair, Konan writes most of these emails for him; she's the only one regularly talking to him face-to-face.
Orochimaru is a geneticist and biochemist, his focus being finding ways to avoid cellular decay, as well as the human genome and anti aging research. His parents are academics as well and he lived up to their expectations to the fullest. He has his own skincare formula which keeps him looking snatched at all times. Given the rumors about several scientific ethical code violations, everyone is kinda scared of him except for his personal lab tech, Kabuto.
Sasori is a renowed mortician who's also very interested in histology. His preparation techniques are unmatched and he even invented new preparation- and histological staining methods, which are called "Red Sand" and "Red Technique", respectively. He often gets into fights with Kakuzu about his microtome collection being unnecessarily expensive.
Tobi is the Akatsuki labs CEO cosplaying as a clueless intern that always steals from the candy bowl in the waiting room. In reality, he has a PHD in physics, his thesis being about rifts in space time and interdimensional interactions, however all of his papers are published under an alias. He has a soft spot for Deidara and refuses to fire him despite the latter's frequent "accidents".
Zetsu is a biological anthropologist fascinated by human evolution and human behavior. Some think even his colleagues are subjects of his studies. Some people say he's two-faced, but he is very chatty and inquisitive most of the time. He volunteered to have Itachi's venus fly traps in his office and can sometimes be seen feeding them dead flies or mosquitoes.
#naruto#naruto shippuden#naruto headcanons#naruto scenarios#naruto au#akatsuki#akatsuki headcanons#naruto modern au#deidara headcanons#hidan headcanons#itachi headcanons#kakuzu headcanons#kisame headcanons#konan headcanons#nagato headcanons#orochimaru headcanons#sasori headcanons#obito headcanons#tobi headcanons#zetsu headcanons#naruto fanfiction#naruto imagines
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Every Breath You Take
tracklist
— ♬ "Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you"
— ♬ Jouno Saigiku x Reader, SFW, gender-neutral reader, depictions of stalking, obsessive behavior, SA, and assault, 3.4k words, no beta
— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE NOR ROMANTISIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.
Despite his composed demeanor, Jouno Saigiku held a fierce temper. Jouno has mastered perfecting his mask to conceal his true emotions. He was calculative and strict with his job as a Hunting Dog. In his perception, holding the title of a Hunting Dog means the authority of justice over everything else. Justice reigns all and is supreme. As a Hunting Dog, you must ensure that justice prevails, one way or another.
Jouno knew that being a Hunting Dog doesn't mean you're supposed to be a goody-two-shoes. Hunting Dogs were the most flawed organization keepers of justice. In other words, corrupt. He accepted that long ago when he took this job. He was the prime example of public evil. No matter how many criminals he torments, he knows society will only give him praise and success for it. And for that, Jouno believed he was the best amongst the Hunting Dogs, not that there was a competition. It was only for his ego to believe he was the best.
He had no comment when it comes to his methods on ensuring justice as a Hunting Dog. Admittedly, he enjoys tormenting criminals and civilians alike to get his way in enforcing justice in society. A sadistic side within him revels with pleasure at the despair of others. He does not care if he comes across as cruel if it's necessary to his occupation. And he did find pride in his job as a Hunting Dog, he did get along with the rest of the Hunting Dogs, and even the leader. He does his job strictly and he has nothing to worry.
Jouno lived a solitary life and did only what he thinks is fit. There are instances where he makes attempts to get along with other members of society but only results in failure. It's either they irk him, or he makes them frightened. It's probably because of his superhuman capabilities required as a Hunting Dog. Jouno possessed an impressive sense of perceptiveness that filled in for his blindness. He had an accurate sense of touch, smell, hearing, and even taste. He can hear heartbeats clear as day and sense emotions without even seeing a person's face. That paired with his intimidating behavior wasn't favorable to some.
It's logical to accept that he can't please everybody, and he won't break his back trying to win someone's favor. If Jouno was disliked, so be it. If he was hated, he didn't care. If he was a second option or the last choice, he'd just smile it off and walk away. It was ideal to not lead a life to be someone he's not to be accepted. He recalled all the people he had saved before in his job. He was praised and admired for it. As he would put it, Fukuchi Ochi made the mistake of teaching him the joy of protecting someone.
Although Jouno has cruel tactics and enjoys the anguish of others, he has learned to long for the joy of being a protector of society. To think people, depend on him for protection strokes his ego. He must do whatever is necessary for the safety of all, even if it means hurting or cornering others and hearing the sounds of their destruction, he'll do it in the name of the law.
Now, Jouno was not new to civilians who despised the law, who thought the government was exploiting them, and thought the system was rigged. He'd scoffed and thought how incredibly stupid those people were. For the most part, those types of people were deranged, and careless, and enjoyed protesting and demanding their 'rights'. Jouno never paid them no mind and sometimes enjoyed laughing at their foolishness. Until he has encountered you.
You were caught up in a conflict when a mentally unwell man decided to make a bomb threat at a public establishment. Naturally, people were horrified and tried to contact the police. Jouno was notified to take care of the situation. It was effortless, he has captured the man and reassured everyone. He did his usual fashion of ridiculing and tormenting the perceived criminal before making an official arrest. You witnessed everything with an unamused brow. Jouno could sense your annoyance when you looked at him.
"You're torturing a clearly mentally challenged man for the bomb threat instead of arresting him peacefully. God, you law enforcement have no regard for a person's well-being"
You have genuinely surprised Jouno with your remark that he stopped dead on his tracks. He turns around and realizes that there wasn't an ounce of regret for your statement. His smile twitches as he marches over to you, prepared to put you in your place. But he notices how you stood unshaken by his presence as you crossed your arms.
"What? Are you going to arrest me too? Oh please, that's all you guys ever do. You 'punish' people who have the right to say whatever they like"
Jouno furrowed his eyebrows when he hears you scoff, he was thinking of his brutal rebuttal, but you continued.
"If you're going to say what I said isn't true, but why do you seem affected?"
He can feel your smirk, and his heart skips a beat. He has never encountered someone as cheeky and confident as you, ready to stand up against a powerful figure like himself. Jouno clenched his fists as if he's about to hit you, but he holds himself back as he gives you a tight smile.
"Be careful what you say next time or it's not going to end well for you"
You laughed and rolled your eyes before strolling away. Jouno gritted his teeth and tried to calm his nerves. People like you have never learned the consequences of their actions, and he would love to teach you a lesson. Jouno keeps you in mind as he takes care of the remainder of his work. He decided to keep a tab on you. Given his position and capabilities, it wasn't difficult to find out who you were.
As suspected, you were a civilian. A decent member of the society who happened to be aware of the affairs involving the government. Jouno found records about you being an outstanding citizen. Oh please, you've got to have some sort of filth on you that he can exploit. Searching deeper, he unexpectedly falls into a rabbit hole. He collected information about your family, education, and job. He has found where you live and the places you frequent. He made copies of your important documents listed in the government such as your birth certificate and others. Jouno needed incriminating details about you, so he decided to follow you around disguised out of his uniform.
He followed you to work where you performed your job diligently, you got along with your co-workers and was well-liked by your superiors. On your day off, you would stroll around the city and even helping a few people along the way. Like helping an old lady crossing the street or getting a ball stuck on a tree for a group of children. Jouno grimaced at your benevolent exterior, you were too kind that it seems natural. He's convinced that the nicer you were, the more dirt you were hiding.
However, Jouno was only met with disappointment. He has followed you everywhere even to your home and he hasn't found anything to incriminate you with. Sure, there was an option to fabricate evidence to destroy you, but the idea leaves a bad taste on his tongue. He wanted something raw that would bring you to your knees and beg him for mercy. As ironic as it was, you were a law-abiding citizen despite your distaste for the government. Jouno found your criminal record free of filth, this further fueled his frustration.
For the rest of his days, you occupied Jouno's thoughts. They were filled with contempt and interest that it was puzzling to describe it. You looked upon others with kindness and yet you reserved detest for him. There must be a reason for it and he's eager to find it. Jouno continues to follow you until you have accidentally bumped against him in public. His breath hitched at the moment, afraid that you'd recognize him. You staggered back as he reaches out to keep you from falling ungracefully on the concrete. You regained your balance and awkwardly laughed at him.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see where I was looking. Are you okay, sir?"
You apologized to him, and he was momentarily taken aback. Jouno realizes that he is still disguised in casual clothes as he gives you a tiny smile.
".... It's okay. I'm good, thank you"
"Okay, have a good day, sir!"
You wished him well as you crossed the street. Jouno was left perplexed. He has experienced a sweet side of you, and he didn't know what to think of it. You probably only treated him differently because he was out of uniform. However, he can't cease his racing heartbeat. He imprinted your kind voice in his memory and the pattern of your heartbeat. You held no contempt in that interaction that it seems so unbelievable. This only encouraged him to follow you even more.
He gathered more things about you regarding your personality and habits. Jouno took note of your favorite flavors, your preferred piece of music, what type of jokes make you laugh, and your pet peeves. He knows about your guilty pleasures, your strange interests, and your fascinating ideals. What initially began as a quest for revenge evolved into unexplainable attraction.
It seemed as though his dislike for you dissipated the longer he observed you from afar. Jouno has learned to memorize your scent, your heartbeat, and your voice so that he can instantly recognize you within a crowd by instinct. He has kept multiple tabs on you. And he begins to slowly slack off on his job as a Hunting Dog. Nothing seems to interest him more but you.
Jouno has followed you to a point in your life where you went on blind dates, he took it as an advantage to figure out what was your type. Although nobody was successful in gaining your romantic interest, Jouno has learned something new about you: he wasn't your ideal lover. Not one bit. No matter how handsome, intelligent, or strong he was, you weren't going to fall for someone like him. He should've seen this coming and yet he's standing here with an ache in his chest.
Why the hell did it matter if he wasn't your type? Unless... oh god. Jouno took a step back and gulped. Was he seriously seeking a romantic relationship with you? That's fucking pathetic! He laughs. He laughs and he laughs. After the laughter, he's stuck to wonder, has he seriously developed feelings for you? No, it can't be. You hated him! It should be enough to stop pursuing you. However, Jouno finds himself unable to stop.
Every breath you take. And every move you make. Every bond you break, every step you take, he'll be watching you. Every single day. Every word you say. Every game you play, every night you stay, he'll be watching you.
Jouno couldn't fathom how you've captured his interest. Jouno could hurt you, make you cry, and you'd wish him dead. And it didn't draw him away. He would stay close with excitement in his spirit. He wanted to have you; it didn't matter if you hated him. He can be the only one who will tolerate you and he had already known so much about you.
Oh, can't you see? You belong to him. How his poor heart aches with every step you take. Every move you make. Every vow you break. Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, he'll be watching you.
Unfortunately, Jouno becomes inevitably busy with his duties as a Hunting Dog. With the new case involving the Armed Detective Agency, he needed to focus on his priorities. He hesitated but ultimately decided to stop following you. He thought it was for the best so he could diligently get back to his work without distractions. Oh god, he was wrong. Because you seem to plague his mind more now that he ceased pursuing you.
Each moment, no matter what he did, Jouno's mind trails back to you. He kept thinking about your adorable mannerisms and sweet voice. How are you? Did you water your plants? He hoped you were because he used to water them for you when you were too busy. He hopes your work wasn't stressing you out and that you'll resort to stress eating, he'll have to get rid of the unhealthy snacks in your cupboards soon. Have you folded your laundry yet? He remembers how piled up it was the last time he snuck into your home. He hopes you don't notice your missing t-shirt. And the missing pillow from your bed. Or the missing pair of used underwear.
Jouno sighs as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand. His finger kept tracing the photograph of you that he printed. He smiles to himself as he makes out your features in his mind. The curve of your face, the shape of your eyes, the bridge of your nose, the plush of your lips, and the texture of your hair. Fuck, you looked so pretty. He wished he could see you even for a quick second despite his blindness. He wished he could feel the touch of your skin, bathe in the warmth of your body, or drown himself in your scent. Jouno feels restless while yearning.
Since you've gone, he's been lost without a trace. He dreams at night, and he can only see your face. He looks around and it's you he can't replace. He feels so cold, and he longs for your embrace. Jouno can't help but keep crying.
[Name], [Name], please
Can't you see? You belong to him. How his poor heart breaks, with every step you take. Every move you make. And every vow you break. Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, he'll be watching you.
You were experiencing a weird phenomenon. First, it began at home. You thought you were misplacing things around your home but then some of your personal items started to go missing. You were dumbfounded to find your plants watered but the snacks in your cupboard gone. Secondly, you feel like you're being watched. It makes you shudder out of nowhere especially when you're all by yourself. When you're traveling to work you feel like you're being followed, and it's the same after your shift. You made sure to double-check your locks before you went to sleep every night, but it doesn't get rid of the feeling.
Jouno thinks he can never go back. He can't reverse whatever he has done. The moment there was a window of opportunity to get off work early, he took it without any second thought. It was so unlike him, to think irrationally. Without even changing out of his uniform, he sneaks into your home effortlessly. It was the dead of night when he found you asleep in your bed. Jouno can hear your steady heartbeat and breathing and it brings relief to his senses.
Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the mattress dip from behind you. Suddenly, your body turns cold. Your eyes go wide as your throat goes dry. You went still lying on your side as you felt something shuffling under the sheets from behind you. This must be some sort of dream, or nightmare! Someone was crawling into bed with you! And they're shuffling closer, and closer, and closer. Sheer terror grips your heart when you feel a pair of hands envelope your figure from behind.
Jouno senses your fear with ease, and it brings a wicked smile to his features. His hands shamelessly traced the shape of your body before resting them right below your breast. He presses his torso against your back as he pulls your rigid body close. He takes a sniff of your washed hair, and he moans in satisfaction.
"I know you're awake, dear"
He speaks. You were beyond petrified to answer. Your lip wobbles as you mind scrambles around trying to think of an escape plan.
"How cute. You were quick to speak in our first encounter but now you're quiet as mouse"
Jouno chuckles. He feels you shivering in his hold and it only makes him pull you closer. As your eyes turn wet, you swallow anxiously.
"Wh—Who are you?"
He doesn't answer and instead starts to place kisses along your neckline making you shudder in horror and disgust. Jouno has longed for this, and he deserves to have a taste of you.
"Please st—stop! No! Please—"
You frantically start peeling yourself away from his strong embrace as he continues to plant wet kisses on your exposed skin. You groaned as you tore yourself away from Jouno making him frown. The darkness of your room made it hard to see his face, the moonlight from your window provided a faint outline of him. You scowled at him and forcefully tried to shove him off the bed, he clicked his tongue as he swiftly grabbed your arms.
"Stop that or you'll regret it"
"No! Let me go! What the hell do you want from me?!"
Jouno feels you struggle against him in your bed. He growls as he keeps you in place by crawling on top of you. The sound of you whining and groaning fills the room.
"Keep still!
"No! Get away from me!"
You screamed but you were silenced when he smacks you across the cheek with the back of his hand. Jouno sighs as he hears you whimper afterward. You start to hiccup as he senses your stuttering breath.
"Please, don't kill me..."
You pleaded. Usually, the sound of tears brought him joy. However, your crying made his chest constrict. He contemplates for a moment with your sobbing echoing in the room. You gasped and sighed in relief when Jouno releases his hold on you. His hand reaches to caress your cheek.
"I won't kill you, unless you decide to test me, darling. Try reporting this to the authorities and I would guarantee you that nobody would believe you"
Jouno threatened and you nodded vigorously through tears. He smiles at your submission, and he presses a kiss on your forehead.
"If you try anything funny, I will have to reprimand you. I'll be watching you"
Your tears blurred your vision as your immense fear made you unable to fight back or recognize the stranger who seemed to have some sort of sick obsession of you.
"Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you"
I'll be watching you
His voice filled your heart with pure dread. He must be the one who's been following you around! God, you feel sick. To imagine him stalking you and watching your every move solidifies the terror that you will be experiencing for the rest of your days. He chuckles cruelly at your fear-stricken face.
I'll be watching you
Every breath you make, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, Jouno will be watching you. His blindness won't hinder him from following you around and finding out what you will be doing.
I'll be watching you
You feel him step back and get off the bed. You sniffed as you watch him ominously walk out of your bedroom door with that horrifying grin on his dark face.
I'll be watching you
Every game you play, every night you stay, Jouno will be watching you. Even as he leaves you tonight, petrified beyond belief, he will make sure to never leave permanently in the future.
I'll be watching you
You couldn't catch up to your breath as you heart raced. All you could think about is his horrifying voice, leaving you helpless with fear knowing this might not be the last encounter with him.
I'll be watching you
Jouno will hold his word. He shall forever torment you this way for being tormented by the fact that you'll fall for him. If he can't get you to love him, then he'll make you fear him. That way, you'll be thinking of him always.
I'll be watching you
Every single day, every word you say, every game you play, every night you stay, he'll be watching you. And you are unable to reach out for help because he will kill you. Struggling to breathe within the sheets, you sobbed uncontrollably at the fact that you'll never be free from him.
I'll be watching you
©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd fanfic#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bungou stray dogs jouno#bsd jouno saigiku#bsd jouno#jouno saigiku#jouno x reader#jouno x you#jouno saigiku x reader#Spotify
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The more I think about it, the more I realise why the revelations in this chapter hit Tyril as hard as they did. Because as I was reading the chapter, sure, I understood his reactions, even though I though he was being slightly unreasonable (a dick). But if you stop to really think about it from his point of view it just becomes so much worse?
What he thought of as a literal personification of evil itself and spent his whole life hating and fighting, what he killed over is actually... okay. Not good or bad, just morally neutral. Just there. A force of nature, like gravity or something.
Moreover, what he fought in the name of, what he devoted himself too, the absolute good he believed in, is also a morally neutral entity and is for all intents and purposes the same as the 'evil'. Just in a slightly different font.
The deities he worshiped, whom he looked up to with awe, to whom he prayed in moments of despair or when looking for guidance are just... a bunch of dead (?) guys. And they weren't even particularly nice guys. They were actually kind of shitty.
Those guys did create his entire race though. Made up a bunch of dumb and actually harmful rules for them to follow that outright crippled his people (forced them to use Light only that took years of their lives, killing who knows how many elves prematurely), and groomed those people to thank them for that. To worship the ground they walked on because it stroked their egos or something.
Honestly, I feel kind of icky even typing this out. Imagine how dirty, violated and angry a person would feel if that were to happen to them.
From this point of view, his comments about elvish pride and superiority come off more as desperate attempts to cling onto what's left of his dignity and failing. He's not just disappointed in elves as a community; Tyril already kind of went over that. It's one thing to learn your family/country/community are not perfect, that the system is flawed and that there are good and bad people there just like everywhere else... And another to realise that your entire worldview, your morals, everything you ever did, everything you thought you were, every aspect of it was all a lie. And it was deliberate.
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thank you for your reply! lowkey convinced I might have a dissociative disorder now—I literally am the child who’s a completely different person before bed and can entirely forget that I’m hungry and every feeling I had in the week before therapy at the ripe old age of 23! tbh I’d thought the emotional impermanence was the adhd but I don’t know anyone else w/o some sort of dissociative amnesia who has the same problem that they can’t remember anything when they go to therapy. but I am capable of having lots of emotions at once (in fact I can never point out one singular thing I’m feeling) so idk!! anyway I’ll look further into it that was wonderful
So there’s more to a system than the failure of the ego states to fuse - but that is the step that causes the system to form and to current knowledge, a system is the only thing that can cause those states to fail to fuse.
As with other children their age, a child who has developed a CDD system will develop emotionally mostly as expected with exceptions given for the delays and disruptions to this that whatever trauma they’re experiencing may cause. A 10 year old that has developed into a system will still be meeting those developmental milestones, except now it will be alters doing it.
We don’t stay as those ego states forever; instead each alter will emotionally develop individually. So now that a system has formed, each alter will - as entirely separate people and therefore at entirely separate rates - develop things like complex emotions and the ability to remember having them. This is why structural dissociation disproves the concepts of an original alter and the alters as “parts”. While the community still uses the terms “splitting” and “fragments”, we do so with the understanding that it isn’t a true breaking into separate pieces of one person in the way we used to think (though in a split pieces can technically “break off” another alter but they would still be entirely separate people vs pieces of a person) with the theory that was replaced by structural dissociation.
These alters will then each live their own lives - having different experiences entirely separate of each other, developing their own interests and hobbies and biases about the world and the people in it, etc. - and therefore become very different people. Alters may be more difficult to notice as children than as adults because they appear to be a child going through normal phases. Alters may also be misunderstood as ADHD (and, to complicate things, the system as a whole may *also* have ADHD) due to memory loss and what appears to be flights of ideas and hobby switching as various alters take the front for various lengths of time.
If you’re autistic, by the way, the thing about being a different person before bed may be explained by that (tiredness can lead to more severe symptoms of autism showing) as can the forgetting you’re hungry (autism often comes with a decreased ability to recognize body cues for needs - so many autistic people struggle to realize they’re hungry until they’re starving, or that they need to go to the bathroom until it’s an emergency, and also forget while engaging with special interests). Autistic people can also struggle to recognize and name emotions, with some of us often failing to recognize emotional changes by anything other than their physical symptoms (some emotions make your stomach feel sick, or a head rush, or a warm sensation, etc.). These things can also be attributed to some other disorders that I’m not specifically aware of but you can check out the differential section for diagnosing DID and Autism to find them I’m fairly sure.
However, it does sound like you’re describing amnesia, and specifically amnesia popping up at a time that a gatekeeper who isn’t feeling ready to process emotions might take the memories from you. Especially if you’d be able to recall those memories immediately before or after therapy, that could be a sign of a dissociative disorder that you could look into and bring up to your professional if you’d like.
Noting here that I am not a professional, and even if I was (I’m not) I’m not *your* professional, so I cannot speak to your diagnoses in any way other than non-professional guesses. Additionally, it’s important to remember that most symptoms of disorders can be from various ones, or be non-disordered traits, and that’s something you’d need to get into it with a professional or do heavy research before deciding on. And I wish you all the luck in doing so!/gen
If you’re after additional research, there is, unlike with ASPD, a decent amount of unbiased information. Be aware of and avoid sources that claim that systems can be fakeclaimed based on literally anything as these sources are not unbiased. The only one who can know if a system is faking or not is an unbiased professional who has spent many hours with their client. For example, I was not diagnosed with DID until I had known my professional for over 3 years, and she still hadn’t considered it until I said something (albeit that that was because she said she wasn’t experienced with this and actually - with my permission - went through my diagnostic tests with a couple trusted colleagues before diagnosing me). One of these resources is the diagnostic test itself which can be found if you look hard enough for it BUT I do not recommend anyone who ever currently plans on pursuing a diagnosis does that specifically. There are two reasons for that - the first is that the diagnostic test is triggering by its nature. You can skip any questions you want but for a truly accurate test result, you ideally would openly answer all questions. As hard as it was, I did not choose to skip any questions in my assessment. That means if you do have a system, you’d be arming your gatekeeper (who may well not want to be found since, when a system is first discovered by the host, the first response is often for it to be hidden from the host as much as possible by backing up, going quiet, giving or taking away memory access, etc.) with the questions you need to answer to get your answer and giving the gatekeeper time to create amnesia towards those questions or to have another alter come out and refuse to answer them or lie to avoid diagnosis. The best way in my opinion to get that assessment done is blindly, without knowledge of the questions, if you have as of yet no or little solid interaction with your alters. The second reason is that these diagnostic tests are difficult to score without the paid for score sheet so if you have the opportunity to let a professional do that, it’s best to allow for that. Because of this, taking that assessment at home would not in any way be the only piece of research you’d need in order to self dx anyway.
Plain text below the cut:
So there’s more to a system than the failure of the ego states to fuse - but that is the step that causes the system to form and to current knowledge, a system is the only thing that can cause those states to fail to fuse.
As with other children their age, a child who has developed a CDD system will develop emotionally mostly as expected with exceptions given for the delays and disruptions to this that whatever trauma they’re experiencing may cause. A 10 year old that has developed into a system will still be meeting those developmental milestones, except now it will be alters doing it.
We don’t stay as those ego states forever; instead each alter will emotionally develop individually. So now that a system has formed, each alter will - as entirely separate people and therefore at entirely separate rates - develop things like complex emotions and the ability to remember having them. This is why structural dissociation disproves the concepts of an original alter and the alters as “parts”. While the community still uses the terms “splitting” and “fragments”, we do so with the understanding that it isn’t a true breaking into separate pieces of one person in the way we used to think (though in a split pieces can technically “break off” another alter but they would still be entirely separate people vs pieces of a person) with the theory that was replaced by structural dissociation.
These alters will then each live their own lives - having different experiences entirely separate of each other, developing their own interests and hobbies and biases about the world and the people in it, etc. - and therefore become very different people. Alters may be more difficult to notice as children than as adults because they appear to be a child going through normal phases. Alters may also be misunderstood as ADHD (and, to complicate things, the system as a whole may *also* have ADHD) due to memory loss and what appears to be flights of ideas and hobby switching as various alters take the front for various lengths of time.
If you’re autistic, by the way, the thing about being a different person before bed may be explained by that (tiredness can lead to more severe symptoms of autism showing) as can the forgetting you’re hungry (autism often comes with a decreased ability to recognize body cues for needs - so many autistic people struggle to realize they’re hungry until they’re starving, or that they need to go to the bathroom until it’s an emergency, and also forget while engaging with special interests). Autistic people can also struggle to recognize and name emotions, with some of us often failing to recognize emotional changes by anything other than their physical symptoms (some emotions make your stomach feel sick, or a head rush, or a warm sensation, etc.). These things can also be attributed to some other disorders that I’m not specifically aware of but you can check out the differential section for diagnosing DID and Autism to find them I’m fairly sure.
However, it does sound like you’re describing amnesia, and specifically amnesia popping up at a time that a gatekeeper who isn’t feeling ready to process emotions might take the memories from you. Especially if you’d be able to recall those memories immediately before or after therapy, that could be a sign of a dissociative disorder that you could look into and bring up to your professional if you’d like.
Noting here that I am not a professional, and even if I was (I’m not) I’m not *your* professional, so I cannot speak to your diagnoses in any way other than non-professional guesses. Additionally, it’s important to remember that most symptoms of disorders can be from various ones, or be non-disordered traits, and that’s something you’d need to get into it with a professional or do heavy research before deciding on. And I wish you all the luck in doing so!/gen
If you’re after additional research, there is, unlike with ASPD, a decent amount of unbiased information. Be aware of and avoid sources that claim that systems can be fakeclaimed based on literally anything as these sources are not unbiased. The only one who can know if a system is faking or not is an unbiased professional who has spent many hours with their client. For example, I was not diagnosed with DID until I had known my professional for over 3 years, and she still hadn’t considered it until I said something (albeit that that was because she said she wasn’t experienced with this and actually - with my permission - went through my diagnostic tests with a couple trusted colleagues before diagnosing me). One of these resources is the diagnostic test itself which can be found if you look hard enough for it BUT I do not recommend anyone who ever currently plans on pursuing a diagnosis does that specifically. There are two reasons for that - the first is that the diagnostic test is triggering by its nature. You can skip any questions you want but for a truly accurate test result, you ideally would openly answer all questions. As hard as it was, I did not choose to skip any questions in my assessment. That means if you do have a system, you’d be arming your gatekeeper (who may well not want to be found since, when a system is first discovered by the host, the first response is often for it to be hidden from the host as much as possible by backing up, going quiet, giving or taking away memory access, etc.) with the questions you need to answer to get your answer and giving the gatekeeper time to create amnesia towards those questions or to have another alter come out and refuse to answer them or lie to avoid diagnosis. The best way in my opinion to get that assessment done is blindly, without knowledge of the questions, if you have as of yet no or little solid interaction with your alters. The second reason is that these diagnostic tests are difficult to score without the paid for score sheet so if you have the opportunity to let a professional do that, it’s best to allow for that. Because of this, taking that assessment at home would not in any way be the only piece of research you’d need in order to self dx anyway.
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His Love
|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Eleven
Master List of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: I'm so happy I'm actually able to upload once a week now! I'm sure you guys are too. xD This story and the support it has gotten is one of the only reasons I stuck through my severe depression. I feel like this character has so much to say. She's all the women who have been a victim of men. She's the breaker of the generational cycles of misogyny women before her suffered. She was weak and powerless because of the systems put in place, but not anymore. Many women throughout actual history have been written out, forgotten, or replaced by men.
P.S. I decided to feature some Middle English dialogue to make things sound more ~fancy~ when it comes to written words. Also note that starting from this point on, everything that happens in the story is throughout two and a half years.
Translation Guide: Perzītsos: Little Flame. Muña: Mother or mom. Sōvēs: Fly. Prithee: Middle English for please.
Chapter Warnings: Jace is a turdy younger brother, and the italics when speaking is High Valyrian, which I didn't feel like butchering the translation of.
"I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief."- C.S. Lewis.
You strolled along the halls of Dragonstone, content and relaxed with your arms clasped behind your grey-blue dress, parchment that you haphazardly wrapped together in your hands. It had been freezing these past few days, and you had to bring out some of your winter gowns.
It was always so cold here on the island. Even in the scorching summer heat, there was always a chill in the breeze. It was nothing like Kings Landing. Though the air was icy, it was clean, with a free-flowing salty smoke smell that wafted through the cracks in the walls instead of the sticky, humid stench of sweat that permeated over all of Kings Landing.
As servants dressed in the traditional bright red garments passed you, each bowed, stopping for their Princess. Even though you were still just a bastard in their hearts, they treated you respectfully, as if you weren't. You had done more in your years here at Dragonstone than they could ever wish to accomplish in their lives.
You had claimed a dragon, the fiercest and most wild one ever to conquer the Westrosi skies. You studied history and philosophy, mastering your ancestor's natural tongue quicker than any of your brothers. You learned to wield the sword as a man, besting serval of the knights that tried you.
When lords and envoys came, negotiating imports and exports between the Island and that of the mainland, seeking to manipulate the heir to the Iron Throne simply because she had teats instead of a cock, you advised her, observing through hidden passages inside the walls and whispering to your mother what you thought.
You were brilliant, too clever for your own good; Daemon would often say, warning you about the dangers of a man's ego. There was no wrath like a man whose pride was wounded. They had started wars over the fact.
"Perzītsos!" Rhaenyra called out to you as you entered the Chamber. A topographical map of Westeros carved into a sturdy wood, each set of land painted in different colors. Quickly, you shoved the letter up your sleeve, hiding it from your parent's eyes.
"Good morn, Muña. What appears to be on the agenda today?" You smiled at your mother, bending forward to give her a peck on the cheek, continuing to keep the letter out of view.
She sighed through her nose, leaning her palms on the table. "Your father has made it his current obsession to support the troops battling in the Stepstones. An opinion in which I agree but not many others share," she said, shaking her head.
"You speak as if I have no ears," Daemon commented like an upset child, crossing his arms.
"Those stuffy cunts of the Small Council won't do anything unless the war is upon their hearth," you spoke in High Valyrian, an annoyed stare directed at the Lords surrounding the Painted Table. "Inaction at the face of those in need aid the oppressor," you declared, now speaking in the common tongue and moving your body to become eye level with your mother.
From his place across the table, Ser Steffon Darkling grinned wistfully, reminiscing at your untainted conviction. It was a quality after years of serving the crown he had lost.
"Despite what you and your father believe," your mother began, finally addressing Daemon, who stood proudly to the side, "we cannot simply send men to the battlefield. There is a process we have to follow, people we have to sway to our side that have historically refused to do anything in the Stepstones."
Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he shifted his stance. Rhaenyra did the same at his immaturity, sticking her nose in the air. They, indeed, were a match made by the Gods.
As heated discussion commenced, you observed the advisors bickering at one another, their hands wildly gesturing as they spoke. You listened intently to their words while staring at the map, tracings the lines with your pupils as the parchment scratched at your wrist. Supplies were most critical for Lord Corlys than actual swords, you gathered from their arguments, biting your lip as you listened to the options people spouted.
Everything they said was nonsense, some wanting to wait until the Hand accepted their petitions which would be a death sentence for all who occupied those disputed islands.
"The crown will not supply men without consent of the Small Council and the King. That is something we cannot change," you interrupted, looking at each of their surprised faces. "But we still owe it to our Valyrian brothers to help them in anyway we can." As they watched, eyes bulging out of their sockets at your instruction, you twisted your arms behind your back to straighten your posture. "They have been steadfast supporters of the crown going back decades, and they are family." Your voice softened towards the end, staring into your mother's and father's eyes. "It is our duty and honor to do what we can to aid their efforts."
"And what do you suggest then, Princess," an advisor, Lord Bartimos Celtigar, interrupted.
You eyed the older man coldly. He was an unrelenting, incorruptible, and highly wealthy Lord—years of commanding people with ingenious strategies from his towers. Daemon had told you that your mother would need an ally when she ascended the throne.
"We have three able-bodied dragon riders, do we not," you questioned him with an arched brow. "Prince Daemon, myself, and my brother Prince Jacaerys will escort our fleet of ships with supplies—weaponry, food, clothing, healing salves, anything they might need."
"Prithee, Princess, where we would acquire such supplies." Lord Bartimos laughed condescendingly to the sky, the black fur lining his coat shining in the daylight as he shook his head at nothing. It was your turn to smile, showing your teeth as you revealed the elegant paper.
"I have received a raven, Lord Celtigar, from Kings Landing." You quickly looked at your parents simultaneously as their heads snapped toward you and smiled apologetically. You could see Daemon's fury at the secret you kept from him but refused to wither under his gaze. "I was invited to Prince Aegon's name day celebration. Personally," you spoke, your posture stiff and your chin held high. "While there, I will talk with my Grandsire and the Council to ensure our supplies and safe travels."
Bartimos laughed again, grabbing the bronze chalice of mead he had sat down and taking a quick drink. "You believe you can convince the King, let alone the Small Council, to give us aid to the Stepstones," he scoffed and faced Rhaenyra. "I mean no disrespect to his majesty, but we realize it is not him sitting on the Iron Throne; the Hand is. And it will not matter to him what you petition. They have consistently denied ever becoming involved in the Stepstones."
"My father is still the King, despite with rumors you may have heard," Rhaenyra defended, "and your blatant disrespect of him will not be forgotten." She turned to you with a bittersweet but proud smile as she stroked the long, intricate braids on your head. "You have grown wise and strong, perzītsos. You have my approval to go."
Daemon continued to stare at you, unable to hold his gaze. Your eyes darted to the silver buttons on his tunic as he brushed your mother aside and gripped your arms firmly. He was unyielding as Rhaenyra dismissed the meeting until tomorrow.
"You received a letter from Kings Landing?" He leaned down, whispering heatedly in your face. You nodded, a guilty expression covering your features. "When did you think about telling me this, hmm? Have you forgotten what they did to you?" He questioned harshly.
"My love," Rhaenyra whispered, stroking a gentle hand along his shoulder blade. He calmed instantly, inhaling as he let go, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Though it has been years, I have not forgotten what they did," you scowled, stepping away from him. "I know Otto Hightower will be the hardest to sway. His great disdain for our family and us is not unknown to me, but he will have no other choice than to yield once Grandsire and I speak."
Your father huffed and looked away, a childish act from a grown man, as Rhaenyra smiled gratefully. "I am so proud of you, sweet girl," she said kindly, tears forming in her eyes. "You are ever the grown woman, cunning and wit and beauty. I have no doubt you will bring us what we need."
"Thank you, mother." You tried not to show how deeply her words moved you, swallowing a lump in your throat as your cheeks and ears heated. You bowed, exiting as Daemon gave you one last unamused look before Rhaenyra turned sharply toward him.
***
You had read that letter at least a hundred times before you attended the meeting, the contents coming as quite the shock, making your knees buckle over each sentence. It was not addressed to your family as invitations like this should be, but directly to you, from the Queen herself.
Initially, you had come to the Chamber to inform your parents of the note, hardening your heart as you shoved any empathy regarding what Queen Alicent had asked of you and thinking this could be useful to them.
A knock sounded at your door, gentle yet firm as you bid them enter, folding the letter into your lap. Daemon's lithe form crowded the doorway, light from the hall outlining his silhouette as his boots thudded on the stone floor. You refused to acknowledge his presence.
"I came to apologize," he spoke, but you ignored him, still turning your head away and walking to your desk, shutting the letter inside a drawer. "Twas... wrong of me to have acted in such a manner."
Finally, you faced him, looking at his taut expression and putting your fists on your waist.
"That sounded painful, Father," you teased, though you still hid anger beneath your smirk. "I shall call Maester Gerardys to fix you some healing tea."
Your father sighed, dragging his feet to an armchair near the stone fireplace and plopping in it. He cradled his head in his palms, sighing profoundly and moving his body in your direction. Moments like these were the only times you saw the actual inner workings of your father. Alone and after he has made a mistake. You sat in the seat across from him, staring at his aged face and white shoulder-length hair as he thought over his words.
"I should not have acted the way I did," he began, sighing as if he was disappointed with himself as he studied the small orange flames before him. "I forget, sometimes, that you are not like them. Those cunts at court who seek to undermine I and Rhaenyra's claim to the throne."
"Mother's claim to the throne," you corrected, and Daemon grunted, nodding his head curtly.
"The Hightowers seek to undermine your mother's right. They have believed since Aegon was born that he should be named heir because he is a male. Years of precedent my brother had set tossed aside simply for a boy who does not want it nor deserve it."
You looked away, moving your gaze from him to the floor as you chewed your lip. He was right. Everyone in the realm felt the uncertainty of Rhaenyra's claim, but no one believed the Hightowers would actively try to supplant her beside Daemon... and now you. You couldn't trust them not to take advantage of such an opportunity because you knew Daemon himself would if given a chance. You had experienced the evil they could commit, something you believed your father would never do, how the Queen turned a blind eye to the Hand's decision to murder and publicly shame people you loved.
"My invitation to Kings Landing could be more advantageous than I thought," you said aloud. Daemon did not outwardly acknowledge your words. Only the ghost of a smirk let you know he was listening.
"If Prince Aegon does not want the crown," you said to yourself more than anything, "what is preventing them from crowning him any way upon Grandsire's death? With enough persuasion the Prince could change his mind. A glutton would surely not turn away a feast simply because someone said no."
"We have preparations set in place for that moment. The bells will be rung upon his death, and a raven will be sent here to summon Rhaenyra for her corination." Daemon shrugged, watching the dwindling fire before him. You looked at him perplexed.
"That is all," you questioned, and he nodded.
"And honor, I suppose," he offered half-heartedly. "The lords of the kingdom have sworn fealty to her. In everyone else's minds, the matter is set."
"Do you think a man such as Otto Hightower, a man who has been removed from his position once before for conspiring in his own self-interests, has honor?" You abruptly stood, pacing between the fire and Daemon as you crossed your arms, pulling the skin off your lip. "He will do everything in his power to keep Mother off the throne and crown someone who is his kin. There has to be more done to secure Mother's place and make sure there are no doubts about secession after Grandsire's death."
You were irate, vividly gesturing as you thought of what to do, of what plans to make. On the other hand, your father sat still, completely unmoving, as the light danced over his pale skin. You became irritated at his lack of response, kicking his boot in frustration.
"What do you suggest we do, daughter? There is only so much one can in such a short time. A name day celebration only lasts till the next morrow's dawn, and it would be improper to stay longer than customary."
Your mind stopped at his words, glancing over at your mahogany desk. There would be a way for you to stay longer, long enough to change preparations to ensure a smooth succession.
"I am certain there is a way I can arrange for a greater," you paused, looking at your father's sitting form, "stay. If you are willing to let me, of course," you hastily added.
A grin slowly spread across Daemon's pink lips, the closest to a smile you would ever get from him, as he stood. He rested his hands on your shoulders like always when he wanted his point heard.
"Good. Like your mother, I have faith that you will succeed. Failure is not in our blood," he spoke, his purple eyes following the white streak in your hair. "I know you care deeply for her, which is why this needs to be kept between father and daughter. I do not want any undue stress upon her as we plan for another child soon," he said in a lowered voice.
You nodded, your lashes fluttering with a faint smile as he left your chambers. Breathing deeply, you went to your desk, plucking the note from the drawer as you reread it.
"I hope this letter finds thou well. Despite your start, I have heard tales of the feats thou have accomplished and how you have grown into a lady fitting of thy station. Though I realize we did not leave within the terms I had wished the last time thou visited the Keep, I need thy help. My son, Prince Aegon, hath become unruly since you have left. He lives inside the brothels on the Streets of Silk and drinks until he cannot move. He hath gone missing multiple times in the past months.
Watchmen discovered him in a pool of his own gore, and when I reminded him of his intended name-day celebration within a fortnight and all who were expected to be in attendance, he was enraged. I had never seen him in such a way. Aegon now refuses to attend for unknown reasons and hath disappeared again. I dispatched Ser Criston Cole to find my son, but he hath had nay luck.
I implore thou to forgive the details that I am about to divulge. Years after thou had left the Red Keep, I had come looking for Aegon within his chambers and had found what couldst only be titled as an alter for thou. Dresses, underclothes, bed linens, stockings, miniature portraits of thou, and a journal were sullied and hidden inside a compartment within his mattress. I realize it was wrong of me to dost so, and I have prayed to the Seven in recompense, but I chose to read his diary's contents. What I saw inside were the inner thoughts of a madman.
I am disgusted by what I read, but it couldst be used to the advantage. Depravity depicted in such blatant language, vulgar thoughts, and words that nearly stopped my heart, but what disturbed me the most was that thou were in it. I know of the time you and Aegon spent together and his lingering feelings toward you.
I beg thou, pray, come to Kings Landing. Thou art my only hope to stop the shame brought upon this family by his absence. I wilt give thou whatever thou desire in thanks.
Nay soul knows the contents of our correspondence, and I wouldst like it to continue that way.
With sincere regards, Queen Alicent of House Hightower"
The Queen was a simpleton to believe that her begging could make you feel an ounce of sympathy toward her plights. You did not owe her anything. For all you cared, Aegon could fuck every woman in Kings Landing, never appear at any event, and drink himself to death, and it would still not be enough shame cast upon her family.
The Hightowers deserved to suffer—every single one of them.
***
It had been three days since you had received Queen Alicent's letter begging for your help. It was plenty of time to send one of your own to the Red Keep and pack your things.
Rhaenyra had found it odd that only you had been the one to receive an invitation to what indeed should be a family event. All the noble houses that were sent a raven would surely bring along their spouse and gaggle of children.
Despite the petty attempt at an insult this was to Rhaenyra and her kin, she did not pry further nor send word of her displeasure to her past friend. The trip did serve a hidden purpose from House Hightower, so she let the offense slip with the wind.
"Sister. You truly do not desire to return to that den of vipers," Jaceaerys questioned as the Dragonkeepers perilously dragged Cannibal's chained body. It was something you could never watch as you lowered your gaze to your riding pants.
It always stung your heart to observe such a wild beast in shackles, the Keepers hitting him with whips if he disobeyed. Dragons cannot be tamed with soft riders, you chanted internally. The reminder of it carved into the flesh of your palm. You had to be brave, strong, and intelligent. Kindness did not get you a dragon.
"Sister," Jace waved his hand beside you, "are you even hearing my words?" You hummed, nodding as you looked into his brown eyes, which were not so different from yours.
"Yes, I am listening, brother," you replied condescendingly. "My desire is certain. I will travel to Kings Landing upon their request, for it would be rude to refuse the words of the Queen."
"The Queen sent it to you?" he asked, incredulous, his black eyebrows raising to the sky as you gave him a perplexed look.
"Did I not tell you," you requisitioned, tilting your head at his bewildered expression. Jace opened his mouth to speak, but you swiftly cut him off. "It is no matter who sent it, so I do not see why you are concerned."
He huffed, crossing his arms as he toed the loose stones in front of the entrance to Dragonmont. You rolled your eyes.
Yes, you did love your half-brother as if he was truly your whole, but the lack of blood relation did not make him any less annoying.
"Why would they only invite you? I am to inherit the Iron Throne after Mother. It should be I mounting my dragon and flying to Kings Landing," he said proudly but with envy in his tone. "I am the Kings grandson and not the bastard of-"
"Jacaerys!" Your mother shouted, Lucserys's and Joffrey's hands in her own, closely followed by the rest of your family and some servants to see you off. "Give your apologies to your sister, now."
Jace turned to you, red tinting his cheeks and mumbling under his breath as he went to stand beside the nursemaids holding the twins, Viserys and Aegon. You walked over to your mother, showing none of the bottled emotions your brother had opened as she wrapped you in her warm embrace.
"I will miss you my perzītsos," she whispered into your tightly braided hair. "No matter what anyone says, we are your family, and the blood of the dragon flows strongly within you."
You looked up at her violet eyes, shimmering in a pool of unshed tears as you smiled and said you would miss her. It would be the first time since you had been brought to Dragonstone you ever traveled anywhere without your family.
Occasionally, you would travel to Driftmark for Rhaena's name day or holidays so she could be with her twin and grandparents or when the rare Lord would invite Rhaenyra to gain her favor as the heir. Your family had their own little world here on Dragonstone, so there was no reason to leave it.
You gave each of your younger siblings a kiss on the cheek, promising Luke how you would write every moment you could. Rhaena, whom you never had a close relationship with despite sharing the same father, came, offering you a sincere smile and hug before you reached Jace.
He couldn't look at you, his eyes focusing on anything but his half-sister standing before him. You stepped closer, surprising him with a genuine hug before whispering.
"We are more alike than you think. I believe that is why we tend to fight so much," you paused, pulling him closer to your body under the guise of a sentimental moment as he processed your words. "But once you accept that we are not so different, perhaps we will finally have nothing to upset our parents about." You felt his sharp intake of breath as you released him. The implication hung in the air as you gave him a loving smile and a peck on his nose before you went to Daemon.
Your father nodded to the servants behind him as you watched them, bewildered. They carried a rectangular item wrapped in a leather cloth, the shape unmistakable as they uncovered it, placing it delicately not to hurt Daemon.
The sheath was as golden as the sun as your father removed it, the longsword blade reflecting a mirror image of the grey sky above. Its hilt had the same gold with intricate designs on the smaller-than-average handle that expanded its way up to the blade, licking the steel like flames. The crossguard comprised two dragons on opposing sides, turning their head to bite the blade. A blood-red ruby sat in the center, surrounded by what you could only assume were four circles of Dragonglass. It reminded you of Dark Sister, Daemon's sword, only more ornate.
You could not form words, your mouth opening and closing like a fish thrown onto the shore. You wanted to thank him. Spout your never-ending gratefulness and praise until the end of time, but none of that leaves your lips.
"Could I hold it," you asked Daemon, your eyes flicking to his and the sword. He smirked, his eye wrinkling in the corner as he placed it in your upturned palms.
It was heavier than the training swords you used, sharper than them, too, as you run your finger across the blade. You were sure it had taken some convincing on Daemon's part to get Rhaenyra to agree to have your own weapon. You had overheard them arguing behind closed doors regarding your upbringing on more than one occasion. Your half-mother refusing to let Daemon commission you a simple sword of your own, and your father arguing back about how she had no say over his blood.
You knew what it meant to have your own sword. It was more than finally showing your prowess and reaching your full potential but was a silent way of your mother and father believing you were ready and that it was your turn to teach and guide yourself in the art of life and the dangers that came with it.
"Thank you, father," you quietly breathed, hooking the sword onto the leather belt of your pants.
Its golden sheath stood out among the black cloth of your outfit, clashing with the silver that accented your body. You would have to commission new clothes once you were in Kings Landing.
Daemon said nothing, tilting his head as you came in for a firm embrace. He squeezed you tightly, nearly crushing your ribs as he rested his chin on your hair, noting Rhaena's avoidant gaze. This was the most affection you had received from him, never having been the type of man who smothered his family in kisses and hugs. You melted at his touch, smiling into his chest as you both stood there for the longest time, making no effort to pull away until the young Viserys sneezed.
"You will write to me very day, yes?" Daemon questioned, his hands on your shoulders as he raised his brows.
"Of course," you said passionately. "Everything I see, every whisper, rumor I hear will be sent to you." He hummed in approval, releasing you as you climb atop your dragon.
You adjusted yourself in your saddle, stationed between two of Cannibal's large spikes, as you gave your family one last parting glance.
Though you were on one of the most enormous dragons in the world, you could still see the teary eyes of Jace, your mother, and Luke. All looked up at you with the same expressions as you pressed your lips to your leather riding gloves, sending each of them a genuinely heartfelt kiss.
"Sōvēs!" You shouted, and the black dragon reared its hind legs, pushing off the rocky ground as he lifted his wings.
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If you want to know what her sword is based on, here is the link. Her sword has much more pizzazz than the one pictured because she is royalty. xD Let's just send a silent prayer for Aegon in the next chapter. He's gonna need it because someone has unresolved trauma.
Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @adelusionalwriter
#aegon the second#aegon ii#prince aegon#aegon targaryen ii#aegon targaryen x you#aegon the elder#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen smut#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen#aegon x you#aegon ii fanfic#aegon x y/n#aegon ii x you#aegon ii smut#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii fic#aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen ii x reader#aegon targaryen ii x you#daemon targeryan#rhaenyra targaryen#house of the dragon lucerys#prince jacaerys#house of the dragon#game of thrones
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You know, I am by no means a fan of anything joe smith did, but I feel like, despite what he might have said or thought, his intentions were ultimately relatively small-scale because his con was entirely for immediate personal gain. ie: getting to do whatever he wanted with no consequence, mostly in the form of fucking as many women (and girls) as he wanted to while also claiming ownership of them. It was entirely about his own ego. I think mormons like to go “well he allowed a few black men to have the priesthood! he wasn’t racist!” No, he definitely was. He held no respect for black people, but he held no respect for anybody. You think a man who manipulates everyone around him into being his loyal followers is choosy about who can come and tell him he’s a good boy and back him up on the idea that he should get to do whatever he wants? That’s like saying “well he allowed women to be mormons, so he wasn’t misogynistic.” Uh-uh.
And I really do wonder, if things had gone differently, if he had not met the people he did, if he had lived out his life, if his little cult would have fizzled out or at least ended up very fringe today. Men like him start cults all the time. I mean look at jared leto and his harem island.
What I mean to say is, I wonder where the church would be if he never met brigham fucking young.
mormons love to either bury the horrendous things that man did or said, or even say “he said some things that would be considered racist today” and “we need to forgive past prophets for saying things that were normal at the time” and “the church as a whole can’t be represented by one man alone and it’s easy to understand what we truly believe.”
You absolute buffoons, the things he said and did were outrageously racist even for his time. He was a completely batshit mass-murdering maniac. Yes racist sentiments were common in his time but they were not universal, and even then, the average consensus was absolutely not “black people were cursed by god and the greatest blessing we could give them would be to kill them all.” Even in the speech where he says that he acknowledges that most people will not agree with him.
And you cannot create a system where one man is the king that speaks to god and go “well one man doesnt represent the church.” Yes he does, by your design. And no, it’s not easy to understand what you believe, because you’re so flowery and vague in order to avoid taking responsibility for anything. You worship joe smith for giving you the church as you know it today, but he fucking didn’t. You have the church as you know it today because a heartless, cruel man turned it into a colonizing force and literally called to exterminate the indigenous people that stood in his way. The church as you know it today was only made possible by mass fucking murder; you don’t get to go “well that’s not what the church is actually about”. If all that never should have happened then you are basically saying that there should be no mormon church. The very foundation of your institution was built on suffering and death.
“At some point the church stopped giving the priesthood to black men and we have no records as to why”
I wonder who you named your fucking university after then you fucking lying coward
#exmo#exmormon#apostake#apostate#feast and testimony#if there is an afterlife i will find brigham young and rip him apart with my teeth
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im sorry i need to dump all my thoughts about ada x leon somewhere for personal fulfillment reasons,
big disclaimer: resident evil canon/lore is inconsistent and my feelings/thoughts on all this is NOT me stating it as fact. It's 99% speculation and me interpreting context. I'm just having fun!
it's really wild that i started my resident evil experience hating Ada. I did not understand her character and the way she's portrayed is very inconsistent and confusing (probably on purpose) and, like many others, I assumed the choices she made and the pain she inflicted on others was malicious and intentional.
But something clicked recently,,,I understand now that she didn't choose this life. She doesn't WANT to be a spy. She doesn't WANT to be a mercenary. Everything she was and everything she had was taken and stripped from her. She doesn't even have a real name anymore. I think seeing the small insight of her backstory in the biohazard manga really put all the pieces together and brain blasted me with understanding. Her entire character (to me, at least!) revolves around survival and self-preservation. She is a SELFISH character, not because of ego or power, but because of a LACK of power. She no longer has autonomy over her life in a way that matters and so the only thing left for her is to stay alive.
And I just think that ties so beautifully with Leon's struggles. Both of them being forced into this life where they have to live and die at the hands of the people who control them. And, listen...listen...it's overdramatic as fuck and a VERY idealistic/romanticized interpretation of their relationship, but honestly it makes me hella emotional thinking about Leon potentially being one of the few things in life Ada wants to live for other than herself. Him being the only person in the entire series who has ever shown her genuine, selfless kindness and care,,, and the fact that her circumstance and the trappings of her life forced her to betray him and she has to live with that guilt and has to come to terms with the fact that she will never genuinely connect with people because who even is she anymore? She has no sense of self.
And her entire campaign in RE6 resonates me in such a weirdly poignant and impactful way. RE6 has some WONKED UP writing and it's so silly and stupid; but I think if it was tweaked a little bit it would be a genuinely moving story about a woman losing her agency and bodily autonomy to a violent man who wants to own her and her fighting with his fabricated, demented vision of her. It's a manifestation of his greed and possession...and then she kills her clone and immediately after she sees Leon again and his first immediate instinct is to protect her and sacrifice himself again for her and throw himself into MORE bullets for her even after the betrayal of RE2 ........ and then after that she finally snaps and FINALLY chooses to fight for HER morals and HER justice by killing Simmons' bioweapon.
Like, listen, I hate the trope of "woman traumatized being saved by a man" in most cases, but something about the way I see Leon and Ada just makes SENSE man.
The fact that she specifically goes out of her way COUNTLESS times to protect him and save him and none of it is enough to get him to forgive her. None of it will ever be enough but she keeps trying anyways. Like, damn, his entire mission is Spain is only possible because Ada saved his ass like...four times??? And you can make reasonable arguments that she doesn't care about him he's only important for her mission, and to be honest I think that interpretation is also valid, but for me personally I just think she cares about him so much but it's in his best interest to continue believing she doesn't care.
And I just want them to be happy. But it will probably never work out between them, just due to everything...they can't escape their lives. They're both kept alive by two opposing morality systems. Leon's guilt and unyielding need to fight for truth and innocence and to protect everyone he's lost and everyone who depends on him. And Ada to hold onto herself and what whittling remains of self-identity and independence she still has when it was all taken from her, even to the point of someone making a damn clone out of her.
Man I just love them so much I'M SO EMOTIONAL!!!!!!!
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Dear Grey's, WHAT THE FUCK and HOW DARE?? I know it's tradition to kill an intern. Well, okay, it was only George and Brooks and everybody from Schmitt's class trickled out, while Lexie's classmates weren't even interesting enough for names. But well, DON'T DO THIS AGAIN! It was such a good episode and the Mika & Jules scenes were so perfect and aaaaaaaaaahhh. (I almost expected to see we would start winter break so I'd have to wait for the result for months...)
In other news at least I can proudly wear my Jo Wilson defense squad shirt again. It was very, very nice to see her have scenes with Amelia. Honestly, Amelia telling herself Link always loved Jo and his heart wasn't in it with her is whatever-bs to me (I prefer Amelia/Link over Jo/Link, they had such a fantastic dynamic, but also Grey's has the worst couples in history so that's a low bar). But hey, at least it was something and they spoke about feelings and vulnerabilities, it was so good. To see the wheels turn in Jo's head, who is so far out of her comfort zone, it was pretty interesting to watch. And then he finds the nerve to tackle this deep rooted trauma and just tell Link about it - you're doing amazing, sweetie! AND HE IS AN ASS ABOUT IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... I think it is 100% fair for Link to feel hurt. Because if somebody straight up says "hey, everybody in my life left and I'm being so out of it, because my nervous system is preparing me for you to leave to", it must suck. But this is the perfect time for one of my favorite tropes, a little "I'm hurt/mad/annoyed with you right now, but I love you". And he should have said "wow, you put me in with all the others? That stings." AND THEN FUCKING HUG HER!! Because the one job more important than his bruised ego in that moment (which I agree is very valid), is to say "I will prove you wrong about this". Instead to punish her by... leaving the room...
Jo Wilson had the perfect husband for her with Alex Karev. And the thing is we know that he would have never ever left her, because the reason he did is absolutely an outside (Doylist) thing. The writers didn't want to kill him and had him do the one thing that was completely out of character, he left. And for Jo that was One. More. Person. The big one. And sorry, Link, your little feeling of a slap to the face comes second here. Remember how in S14 Jo talked to Warren and he then had to talk to Karev, so he finally understood that what he had to do was say to Jo, he would never hit her? As if she didn't rationally think so, but deep down her fear, after what she saw with DeLuca... he needed to say it. Even though it must have hurt him that Jo could even subconsciously think he might hit her. And Link can even swallow his pride for a hug right there? To tell her "I will not leave". He should be happy he got to the bottom of what's going on, because he is able to fix that. By doing the thing he thought he would be doing anyway - stay by her side. That's all. Jo has zero social network (except for bantering moments with Schmitt). That's the thing I hate most. Her connections with Bailey and Meredith are terribly superficial to non-existent. That in itself could be a story, about how Paul crushed something within her that was very fragile to begin with, because she didn't have many friends before and there is ZERO family (Grey's is so good at making new family appear magically, but Jo has Z E R O... what I would give for Michelle Forbes to appear again as a surprise patient ahahahaha).
Rolling my eyes at Owen, when Teddy right away tells him somebody else (who happens to be a woman) kissed her and he gets super mad, instead to at least be thankful for immediate honesty - expected. Owen is the worst. But now I'm disappointed in Link. Damn. (Once again, his hurt is valid, but his reaction is beyond stupid. The extra drama is so unnecessary.)
I'll live in this moment in the scrub room with Jules and Mika and their absolute love. Somebody on Grey's was honest enough so somebody else would get the spot in a surgery they deserve - there has never been a declaration of love like that! People here lie and take false credit and break rules and manipulate to be in the OR. Jules was honest. AND THE THANKS IS THAT MIKA WAS TOO TIRED TO DRIVE........................................................................
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more factS!!!1!!1!! -Hypnos' moons are all hypnotized, made to follow her orders. She hypnotized them for territorial reasons, but she doesn't harm them. -all planets can adjust their size to their will, which is why some are HUGE and some are small af -True to his species-sake, Kamu can bite and drain star energy. (Star Energy is Plasma, which equals to human blood.) -Chloris and Eros used to be dating (Eros got dumped due to his bigger ego) -Eburonia is disliked by my friends (not a system fact just a thing i wanted to say LOL) -The Ring bearers are Eburonia, Eos, and Hera. -The Gas Giants are Eburonia, Galileo, Eos, and Chloris. -The Rockies are Amechania, Eros, Ophion, and Prometheus. -The Ice Giants are Hecatia Eros (thats right, Eros is BOTH!) -The only water giant is Hypnos! -Hypnos is able to hypnotize moons from other planets and make them her own, usually out of jealousy or interest. From my sayings, she would take Callisto, Europa, Titania, Ariel, Miranda, Dione, Rhea, Umbriel and Charon. (She's a women moon collecter HELK) -Hypnos can also hypnotize planets, with one example being a planet from the Proto-era, named Phanes. -Eburonia's psychic abilities predicted the death of 5 of her moons. She does not wish to gain any more moons out of respect for the dead moons. -Galileo's moons are all trained in archery, as respect for their protector and caretaker. -The moons of Chloris have a one-sided hatred with Chloris. Chloris dotes on them, while the moons dislike him. -Ophion's moons are his other three friends! They manage his therapy appointments with the other moons (He's the Taenarum Therapist, like how Mercury is with the Solar System.) -Prometheus's moons are like tiger cubs; sticking close to their parent. They're always near Prometheus, only gone to hang out with friends. -Amechania's moons are one of the only ones who remember her. -Hecatia's moons are usually with other moons; Hecatia doesn't care about them much, unless they get hurt. -Eos's moons also take up alchemy, always trying to make new recipes for Eos, with most of them ending in failure. -Styx's moons always try to calm her down, but she's also scared of them most of the time. And now, for the big shocker.. THE TAENARUM SYSTEM HAD ITS OWN MOON REVOLUTION!
The Taenarum Moon Revolution was caused by one of Hypnos's moons getting mad that the planets didn't have restricted orbits. With her resolve, she gathered some of the moons who agreed with her sentiment and led an attack. Thankfully, it ended like the revolution in Solarballs. And fun fact, it happened because the Taenarum System moons heard of the Solar System Moon Revolution! In an AU, where the Solar System planets inhabit the Taenarum System, it would be stopped by Titan, since he doesn't want a repeat of his actions to happen again, lest in a Planet System with a planet with 1000+ moons. (answer each individually!)
(ill try lmaoo)
aaaaa hypnos’ moons bein hypnotized is so fucking awesome and deadass makes sense??? no wonder girlie has a whole ass collection of moons😭well atleast she doesnr hurt em💗
i think its rlly neat how the planets can change their sizes!! thats a rlly unique detail! ,,also, kamu draining tue star energy?? so fucking badass?? holy shit?? and damn chloris rlly gave eros the L with that💀💀 dont blame em ngl
end this eburonia slander NOW💔💔⛓️⛓️🙏🙏 shes done nothing🤬🤬 (and damn eros trying to catch em all by being both rocky and ice giant)
hypnos wqntinf all the girl moons is honestly relatable, i feel her. and WOAHG?? she can hypnotize planets too?? yikes f in chat for phanes💔 eburonia ilysm, actually💞💞 can i just say i love all the relationships of all th moons n their planets?? thyre literally so interesting and the dynamics just MWAH😵💫 i live for moon n planet relationships, positive or not. i think galileos relationship with her moons is honestly so cute like?? omgggg >w< SAME GOES WITH PROMETHEUS’??? thats so fuckij cutee DIWJSKSMDM
woooo moon revolutionn🗣️🗣️🗣️ we repeating history with this onee🗣️🗣️🗣️
LMAOOO the moons hewrinf abt our solar systems moon revolution is crazy i lvoe it (imagine the taenarum moons write fanfiction abt the solar systems moon revolution lolololol)
thar was a long list u sent but i love readinf so:3 i rlly like these facts/lore drops u send me! feel free to send more if ud like^_^
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