#finch injury

[orangesand-lemons-234]

anyway, modern au only child albert that was raised by his grandparents, and they are the most supportive people of all time.

his mamó kim brought him and race to their first pride parade wearing a shirt that said "the communal fairy grandmother" (she happily took pictures with people and gave out free hugs to them)

his grandad joey has never missed a single one of his dance recitals since he was a kid, and it is now tradition that they go out for ice cream afterwards.

albert brought jojo home from school once when they were younger and was like "this is my mamó, and the one watching the football is my grandad." and jojo was absolutely baffled because one set of his grandparents had already passed away, and the others lived miles away and albert just said "we can share!"

due to this, any friend of alberts is now their honorary grandchild, but they truly do not mind. finch has accidentally referred to kim and joey as his own grandparents on numerous occasions, and they have not once corrected him. they're just glad that albert has built up the family he didn't have as a kid, no matter how loud and chaotic they are.

[finchmarie]

The Horror of Our Love

[parkeryangs]

every media should have more cane users actually. source(s): dude trust me

[s1x-foot-deep]

day 1. fav oc to draw

i have um. a LOT of ocs as some of y'all may know. & i ping pong between who i like drawing most atm so i drew just a few of em . like this isnt even all of em

prompt list from @/bolthamos !!

[wrenhavenriver]

there was an alarmingly still house finch on one of our feeders today who didn't fly away with the rest of his friends even after i approached and spoke gently to him—i couldn't quite make out his face at that angle/in that lighting, but i'm pretty sure he had some sort of eye crust going on, which could be either conjunctivitis or avian pox, both of which can cause blindness and put him at risk of predation or starvation :/

i went to get my phone to see if i could get a better look through the camera zoom, and when i approached the second time he flew away into a nearby tree—fairly confidently, too—so he must have at least some functional vision? but he was clearly not well beforehand, just lying in the little tray jutting out from the feeder slowly eating seed and not reacting to me until he'd stored up some energy. i can only hope his case is mild enough that it doesn't progress any farther and he's able to keep feeding himself and staying out of harm's reach ;___; unfortunately having a visibly unwell birb visitor means i really need to take the feeders down for a thorough disinfecting + leave them down for at least a few days to encourage everyone to disperse for a bit, which is probably only going to make it harder for him to stay fed if he's not well enough to forage on his own

and i know it's for the safety of all our vulnerable bird visitors but i'm also going to be so depressed not having the feeders up 🫠 looking out the window and seeing birds at all hours of the day is truly the Backbone of My Mental Health, and if our usual visitors leave for good and don't come back once the feeders are back up i will actually be Distraught

anyway

[stripesysheaven]

.

[urdamage]

when was the last time your character/s cried?

akito noguchi has been crying himself to sleep every night for a very long time now, so it would have been last night. ever since trouble began for him in shrike heights, when his life was once again so horrifically changed, his emotions have easily gotten the better of him. he doesn't like his sister or his friends to see him cry, so he tries to keep his composure until he's alone, until he's in bed at the end of each night.

bo turner has a lot of reasons to cry, some understandably terrible, and some quite beautiful, as he's been known to so easily cry tears of joy or laughter. the most recent cause for tears were likely tears of laughter, likely as recent as a day ago, in ian and stinky's company. with everything they've been through - even the cat, who was found so cruelly abandoned before he became a turner-vogt - bo likes to just be silly. he loves to bring joy into their household, and unashamedly finds himself so funny at times that he does indeed cry laughing over himself.

desi calderon tries his hardest to not get so upset over things, though now more than ever he's also come to terms with the fact that emotions are healthy. as much as he doesn't like to cry, he does cry more frequently these days, particularly in the evenings after a long, frustrating, physically exerting shift at work, the tears aided by thoughts of deo and bodhi and everyone else he's not been able to save - that would have been the last time he cried, in a moment like that.

dodge anand understands that experiencing and feeling every emotion is healthy, particularly at the appropriate times. he's not afraid to cry, though despite this, it doesn't happen an awful lot. the last time dodge cried would have been in the aftermath of the last attack, in the ominous quiet moment that occurs after he and the rest of the hospital staff worked tirelessly to ensure all of their new patients were going to survive the night.

duckie ho would have not been able to recall the last time that he cried if he was asked this question six months ago, but the moment he had in the hospital where he not only cried, but cried in front of hoseok still bothers him. he hates to be vulnerable, and even while hoseok has never done anything to make duckie feel like he couldn't trust him, duckie still hates that he was rendered weak and vulnerable enough to cry then.

eilonwy finch is a frequent crier, she's likely crying right now. while she was able to recover from the aftermath of her own attack, a time in which she couldn't find herself able to stop crying, the past six months have been incredibly difficult for her, and she's back to her extremely fragile state. the bright side is that this time around, she has the strength of her closest friends behind her, and she's not a blubbering mess as much as she once was, despite the regression.

ernest goodarzi hates to cry, but ever since his encounter with the ghost he's found himself in tears almost every single day. even on his good days, where he gets to spend time with his best friend august, he'll come out of their time spent together in tears as the beauty that saves him from thinking about his trauma terrifies him almost as much as the killers do. like eilonwy, he's likely crying right now.

hedwig blackwood cries plenty due to his struggles and his trauma - both from the killers and his life before shrike heights - mostly in his own company, but the last time he cried was actually at a chokehold on love rehearsal. the only person outside of the band in attendance was donnie, and their front man finn found himself unable to finish the love song they were playing as he got too in his own head about his love for his soon to be husband. while hedwig laughed a lot, there were also tears shed. hedwig has always wanted to believe in love, but honestly, nothing outside of that moment has made a very strong case towards true love being, well, true.

hen wen szeto often finds themself walking around shrike heights after dark, no matter how idiotic some people might think them to be. in the day time, they don't feel comfortable with all of the eyes on them - and the ugly scar left behind on their face - and while they're not not afraid of the killers finding them again, they need to get out or else they'll be driven insane. the last time they cried was on last night's walk; their feet instinctively took them to their old apartment building, and when they thought about all of the joy they had in there with people like her brother, and galen, and the rest of those that she knew when life was temporarily so much more simple, they got all choked up about it.

iggy berman last cried around a week ago, when they got in an argument with their brother. it wasn't even about what arne had said or done, nothing to do with the circumstances in which they fought, it was simply frustration over the fact that they were fighting. iggy loves his brother more than anything; having been apart from him once before, and for quite a while at that, iggy immediately felt terrified of their relationship being anything less than perfect. he couldn't lose arne again, and while one argument is hardly the start of that, iggy cried regardless, feeling particularly sensitive that day.

jovie weaver isn't afraid of crying because she's upset, but the last time she cried was actually a couple of mornings ago, when she injured herself while swimming. thankfully it was nothing too bad, but while she was pushing herself to beat a personal best, she neglected to breathe when she needed to, and came up for air, coughing after inhaling a small amount of pool water. while trying to ground herself with the side of the pool, her hand slipped, and she hit her head on the side of it. it was painful and overwhelming enough to see her in tears, though she did recover quite quickly.

junior viana carneiro, similarly to jovie, last cried over an injury. junior is another resident of shrike heights who cries frequently, but thankfully it was over no mental pain or reminders of trauma, only an accident in the kitchen. while preparing his dinner, his hand slipped, and he cut his forearm open with a large - and unfortunately sharp - kitchen knife. he cried over fear, as he was alone and unsure of what to do, but a quick trip to perkin's and a few stitches later saw him back in reasonable spirits.

jupiter bernstein last cried out of frustration on a phone call with his mother, this morning. she always calls him in the evening her time, which is quite early in the morning in colorado; overtired and bothered by a few things that his mother had said, they got into an argument that ended in jupiter hanging up, in tears. once he was more awake and had a hot cup of tea in hand, he called her back and apologised (there are no hard feelings).

leaf wozniak woke up crying this morning, coming out of an extremely terrifying and disgustingly vivid nightmare, detailing a sicker, more warped version of the attack he had only just lived through. it happens almost every morning, though if it's not leaf waking up in tears, it's florian. luckily, the two have learnt how to best manage their upset and their pain, dealing with it all together, and with the help of the commune. each night leaf goes to sleep with hopes that the next morning will be different, though that's yet to happen.

valentine ortiz last cried a couple of days ago, through a panic attack at work. the store was extremely busy, causing valentine to try to push himself, ignoring merry's alerts along with his own discomfort, but very quickly the rush became too much, and he spiralled quickly into a panic attack. as he sat in the office, bawling his eyes out and waiting for his partner to come to his aid, valentine began wondering if it was smart to continue working at an establishment as bright and bustling as the environment in which he was attacked.

∘ ₊✧────── get to know the residents of shrike heights !!

[finchmarie]

Doubt.

A littlest post-Haven self doubt. Featuring my crackiest cannon with Caer Tabris.

[verrixstudios]

Quick question about the characters u posted!!

Is Finch's wing an injury, or wasnit like that at birth? (Curious bc I have an oc with a congenital wing deformity and I like knowing if I have the same/similar ideas to other people JEJCNEHSJF)

I am bustling with excitement that people are asking me about them

Anyway anyway I was reading book number jade mountain and I remembered a certain Skywing’s injury from a Sandwings tail. I looked up art of the grump and strangely everything I saw with him had just a simple scratch scar and I was really curious cause I’d imagine Sandwing barbs would do something unique at least. I took inspo from the drago viper bite description, except if you toned it down a bajillion times. If one of those barbs could be used to slice instead of just stab, it made me wonder what it would do to a wing membrane since it’s so thin and the poison could eat away and stop it from being able to heal back easily. (Not to mention a Sandwing strategist would obviously go for a skywing’s wings.) Thus my idea for Finch became a thing. He’s become rather great at climbing to make up for the inability to fly.

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

[skywerse]

Finch finally got a redesign that suits her more... With that, if you want to know more about my riptide oc, info below! :D

WARNING: there's A LOT of yapping

Finch, originally named Farren Van Aalsburg, stands as a 24-year-old pirate whose legacy is intertwined with the notorious ship, The Arbiter. 

Known for her ruthless and calculated leadership, Finch's mere approach to piracy would send ripples of apprehension through the ranks of sailors and even unsettle the most seasoned navy officers. The very mention of her crew's arrival was often met with foreboding whispers. In taverns, pirates would share knowing smirks over their mugs of beer, while officers would exchange wary glances. They'd caution one another, 

"Retribution's coming."

Farren's lineage traces back to a well-known navy captain, Heimer Van Aalsburg, praised for his adeptness in handling internal conflicts and hailed as one of the foremost strategists in naval warfare. Alongside his family, composed of Farren, her stepsister Hestia, and stepmother Alisei, they resided aboard a wonderful mahogany vessel, embarking on voyages from one port to another.

For Heimer, Farren was the centre of his universe, he couldn't have wished for a better daughter. Their connection strengthened, particularly in the wake of Farren's mother, Julith Ferin's passing when Farren was just four years old.

The bond between Farren and her younger sister was equally profound, they had an unbreakable bond from the very moment they met. However, amidst this familial setting, Alisei nursed a vicious, festering resentment, convinced that Farren overshadowed Hestia in Heimer's eyes. This animosity later culminated in a tragic incident that took place one, stormy night. 

In an unfortunate turn of events, Farren finds herself overboard, her desperate attempt to grasp the ship resulting in a severe injury to her right arm. Eventually, the raging waters below are quick to swallow her.

As her consciousness returns, she kneels before a colossal leviathan. The creature presents a solemn pact: it will guide her to the nearest vessel and mend her injured arm, with the condition that she accepts the burden of becoming the guardian of the seas until her last dying breath. An oath that binds her to a life on the move, forbidding her to settle on solid ground or abandon her duty. With hesitation, she agrees.

One fateful day, Skip, a hardy half-orc fisherman, discovers a young girl ensnared in his ship's nets. Swift to lend a helping hand, he extends not only a refuge but a genuine home for the girl, determined to help navigate her through the uncertain future.

Now residing on a small isle, a mere few days were enough for her to befriend a whole flock of zebra finches, who trailed behind her like loyal companions. Considering the girl didn't remember anything, let alone her name, Skip decided that the name 'Finch' would be more than a suitable choice.

Finch grapples with a zero to no recollection of herself and her family. Her only tangible link is a gilded medallion etched with the initials 'J.H.F’ accompanied by a few fleeting memories of her father.

Finch becomes a stalwart protector, earning recognition as the island's guardian. Fueled by an unyielding commitment, she gathers a crew at the age of 16. Two years later, they embark on their first voyage.

Her five years at sea culminates in a fierce clash with the navy, leaving Finch and her childhood friend, Shelby, as the lone survivors. In the wake of the tragedy, Finch confronts a maelstrom of emotions, grappling with guilt, simmering anger, and the rekindling of a long-suppressed fear of the unforgiving ocean.

"What value does a fierce pirate captain, one who commands the treacherous seas yet harbours such fear, truly possess?" - Niklaus, on their last meeting.

Finch and Niklaus have a history of encounters, each one more significant than the last.

Their first meeting took place when Finch was just 16, in the midst of assembling her crew. Niklaus dangled the promise of information regarding her family, but only if she'd abandon her oath. She refused, even poking fun at him the whole time—a stance she maintained on numerous occasions.

The second encounter, at the age of 23, followed a previously mentioned, deadly battle. Niklaus presented her an offer to turn back time, still on the condition of letting go of her oath. Once again, she refused, stating he's a fool if he thinks she'll ever give it up. After a few humiliating attempts at bribing her, he gives up.

A mere few weeks later, their paths crossed once more. This time, Niklaus proposed a lasting solution to banish her deep-seated fear of the ocean in return for a future favour. He pledged to provide a specific time, place, and a duel to be won, one she'd be obliged to fulfil, that is not linked to her oath. After careful consideration, and a few conditions, Finch shook on the arrangement (and still made fun of him the entire time).

[doyouknowthisdisabledcharacter]

Do You Know This Disabled Character?

Harold Finch has a cervical spinal fusion due to injury and as a result has rigid posture, chronic pain, and a limp.

[prophecyofwinter]

Se Riña Qilōni Iprattan Se Jēdar | VII

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary | Saera Targaryen, daughter of King Jaehaerys I, ran away from Westeros to escape her fate. 45 years later her daughter Y/N Targaryen, with an invitation from King Viserys wishes to go back.

Tags | Angst, Slowburn (Hot&Cold), TargCest, Smut, Standard ASOIAF content, Aemond and Reader are First Cousins Once Removed, Reader is Self-serving, Terrible Sibling Dynamics, Fluff, Attempted Sexual Assault tags to be added

Special warnings | Violence against women, Incel-like behavior, descriptions of injuries, sexual assault, Parental Abuse

Word Count | 3.6k

Authors Note | Last extremely lore heavy chapter for a while. I will be giving a nice treat for next chapter!!! ✨

Prologue | Chapter VI | Masterlist

Chapter VII | My Brothers Keeper

You were awoken by a deep, carnal pain from your lower back. Your back arched up as you gasped yourself awake. You must’ve turned over wrong and put your full body weight on your bruise.  Letting the weight off did absolutely nothing, the pain and throbbing persisted anyway. 

You felt a pressure rising in your throat alarmingly fast, cupping your hand over your mouth you dash over to your chamber pot and let your insides empty out. You started dry heaving over the pot with not much besides liquid, you hadn’t had anything to eat since you broke your fast yesterday morning. The pain mixed with starvation made your stomach stir in such a way as to bring you to this point.

You manage to stand yourself back up on wobbly feet. If not for the gigantic bruise on your lower back you wouldn’t be so humiliatingly weak. You brace yourself on the chair of your vanity and see the state of yourself. 

Your hair is in tangled disarray, your face is reddened and puffy, and you look like a disaster…your maids didn’t have time to prepare you for bed at all. Ellyn must’ve been scared by the sight of Aemond; she didn’t even think about it. Is this what Aemond saw? Was this why he pulled away so suddenly? No… was it?

You’re already awake and there’s no way you can go back to sleep in this state. You shuffle to your chamber door to open to peak out into the dark stone halls, only lit by torches. Standing there for a few minutes until you flag down a maid carrying a basket of towels.

“I need to- to break my fast- my fast early.” You whisper with a tight throat. The sun had broken from the horizon moments ago, you wouldn’t be given food for a few hours if you hadn’t requested it now. The maid nodded with a ‘Yes My Princess’ and continued on her way.

You retreat into your chambers with a hiss, the throbbing pinch coming back when you walk, and a growl in your stomach.

‘What would I even eat?’ The thought hadn’t occurred to you until just now. Just soups, juices, and teas for you.

You touch your neck gently and you finch back, but then the flinch makes it hurt too. Tears start to form on your waterline and threaten to fall, crying would hurt too. Tears of pain and frustration.

This is all Vaegons fault. Vaegon is the source of your injuries, his ever-growing obsession with you has tilted his mind, your mother should've forced him to stay home, she should’ve let you go alone.

You bury your head in your hands and begin to sob regardless of the pain it brings you to move your neck. Mind swirling with so many thoughts where do you even start?

You hate Vaegon; you hate him more than you ever had before, you’ve hated him since childhood, and he’s always found a way to injure you out of frustration. You feel no sympathy for him; he knew that you would never love him, coming to Westeros guaranteed it. Vaegon has always felt entitled to you, knowing it was over was too much for him you suppose.

‘Sister! I have come to rescue you!’ Vaegon called up to you holding a wooden sword. You sat on your tall bed looking down at Vaegon with a small gold tiara on your head that was a gift from your mother.

Marra, a worker from your mother's pleasure house that normally looked after you both during the daytime sat on the bed with you to make sure you two didn’t injure yourselves. 

‘No! You ruined it! I’m a Princess! Not your sister! Do it again!’ You whined at Vaegon because he ruined the whole plot. Vaegon yelled out in childlike frustration after being forced to redo his lines for what felt like the 500th time for a child this young.

Vaegon was 7 and you had just turned 6. Vaegon claimed repeatedly that he was too old for childish games like pretend, but he still did it because you demanded it. Either because he cared for his little sister or because you would beat him with his wooden sword if he said no. 

‘Let’s calm down. Perhaps we’ve played too much pretend for one afternoon’ Marra laughed lightly at your childish bickering. 

You huffed and fell back into the pillows on the bed. Marra move your tiara out of your hair so it doesn’t get tangled up in your hair. You tired yourself out simply from yelling at Vaegon all afternoon for not fitting your perfect ‘play pretend’ idealization of what a warrior should be. 

Vaegon clamored onto the bed after a few attempts, earning a soft gasp of surprise from Marra.

‘You can get onto the bed by yourself Vaegon? You’ll be old enough to train at the Red Church soon.’ 

Vaegon gasped at the praise with stars in his eyes, rambling on and on about all the great things he would do for the Lord of Light. You scoffed at Vaegons ramblings, your dreams were WAY more realistic, obviously. 

‘Okay, little princess. What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Marra poked your tummy and laughed.

‘Easy! I want to marry a prince!’ You scoff out childishly, so confident as if it was that easy.

‘What?! That would never happen! That’s stupid!’ Vaegon sat on his knees and mocked you.

‘Vaegon’ Marra said with a warning tone and he laid down at Marra's other side. 

‘There are no Princes in Essos. So you want to marry a Targaryen Prince then? I’ve heard there are many just around your age. Lucky you, little lady’

‘Yes! I’ll claim a dragon too and we will fly high in the sky together! He’ll be beautiful with long silver hair-“ You start to ramble about your ideal Targaryen Prince until all of a sudden you feel a blunt force on your knee. You yell out and grip your knee, tears already flowing down your cheeks. 

‘Vaegon! What has gotten into you!’ Marra yells out and grabs your brother by the wrists making him drop his wooden sword he struck your knee with. 

You curl up in a ball sobbing in pain while holding your knee that will show a developing bruise anytime now. Vaegon is fighting back against Marra with tears streaming down his face out of frustration. 

Through your tear-stained eyes, you look over to Vaegon, for the first time you see this face. Vaegons eyes have turned black, with no sign of purple at all. Pupils fully eclipsed the iris. Being held at the hands by Marra reduced him back to a sobbing boy and he collapsed into her arms.

Ellyn placed a smaller assortment of foods at your table than normal. Due to your current condition, you can only consume certain foods without harsh pain. Ellyn has taken up the task of bringing you a new kind of tea to try every day.

“A shipment just came in and I had to brew a pot for you Princess. This is blood orange tea!” She looks excited for you to try this in particular. You reach for the cup and blow on it before taking a sip while Ellyn waits excitedly. It of course is citrusy, pretty sweet, and a little tart. Pretty nice compared to the one from yesterday morning.

You give Ellyn a happy expression showing that you enjoyed it. Gods you need your throat to heal… Pure delight painted her face and she clapped her hands together before she grabbed the rest of the food. Mainly just Oatmeal and Soft Fruits.

Mela had a bath set up for you immediately after you finished eating. You let out a moan of sweet bliss as you sunk into the tub. The hot water felt ethereal, it was like a warm hug that kissed your swollen skin as a lover would. The sunlight hit the room and painted it with the colors of dawn.

“Ellyn told me that the Prince personally applied your ointment last night. Quite intimate, quite scandalous…” Mela laughed, squeezing out water from a sponge, and started scrubbing your back. 

“Yes, very focused and very gentle on the Princess,” Ellyn spoke up, matching Melas' laugh.

“Oh my, attentive and gentle? You may have your hands full for the coming moons after you are wed.” Mela continued to tease in a motherly way and Ellyn giggled in the back while cleaning up from breakfast. A blush rises on your cheeks remembering the intimate moment you and Aemond shared. It became a bittersweet feeling; it hasn’t been that long since you came, but it feels like an eternity. 

You hear a roar far off in the distance, you sit up with excitement in your veins when you realize it’s a dragon. This is the first one you’ve ever seen, your balcony gives you a perfect view. The grand beast took flight outside of Kings Landing, the beast was massive and so green. The dawn sky made it look so divine, so godly. You were at a loss for words. This is better than anything you could’ve dreamed of.

“Ah, right there is Prince Aemonds dragon. Vhagar is her name, the biggest dragon alive.” Mela realized it was your first time seeing a dragon. Your face was filled with childlike awe. It filled Melas' heart with joy to see you like this after the sorrow and pain of last night. 

“Vhagar…” you whispered, eyes following Vhagars path in the sky. 

“My Queen- I didn’t notice you entered.”

You turned to see Queen Alicent at your chamber door, you didn’t know how long she’d been there. Alicent wore her hair free and dress loose, it was extremely early, and you wouldn’t expect anyone to wear proper dress at this hour. You jumped a little at her presence, you were in a bath with no way to make yourself decent.

“We are all women here, sweet girl. Nothing I do not have myself.”

Alicent smiles and pulls over a stool next to the tub. You hold yourself together even though she can fully see your chest. She doesn’t look like she cares so you choose to ignore it.

“Your brother is in the dungeons, he will be kept there until the council knows what to do with him. It is likely that, due to his transgressions. He will be put to the sword-“

The words hit your body before they hit your mind. Without even thinking you move forward in the tub to grab and hold Alicent by the arms. Having your body fully out in the open seconds ago would’ve made you squeak into a corner but you are too shocked to care.

“No! Let him go home-“ Your sentence gets cut off when the pain on your bruises gets too rough and a wheeze rises. Mela grabs you tightly and leans you back into the tub with a scared expression pointed at you. 

Alicent looks frightened herself, eyes wide, breath heavy, and leaned back in her seat, not expecting you to have such a reaction. She would’ve expected you to be at least a little joyful. Vaegon attacked and strangled you, then ran away to escape like a little girl. 

You couldn’t do that to your mother. Letting your brother die in a foreign land, to a foreign man, with a foreign sword. Have him murdered while crowds got a sick kick of seeing a Targaryen bastard get their head chopped off. Would claim it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a Targaryen head on a stick. You would be forced to be happy and proud about it else you would be blamed for sympathizing with him. 

You don’t love him, you don’t like him, you tolerate him for your mother.

They wouldn’t understand how you hate him. They wouldn’t hate him how you do. They don’t know how

You sat at your vanity brushing your hair, about six and ten at the time. You heard the door open to your room, of course, it was Vaegon, you didn’t even have to look. He tended to let himself in, after a decade of it you couldn’t even try to bring a care. 

“Vaegon I told you not to come in my room after-“Your groan was caught as a lump in your throat when your eyes looked to the corner of your mirror to see a man that didn’t have white hair or purple eyes. 

“I’ll be Vaegon if you want me to.” This man said with a partly toothless smile that made your bones crack. He was ugly, with no scars or trauma, the gods just decided he was to be ugly. 

You stood with quickness and ripped open the top drawer of the vanity to grab a knife that had been sitting there since the vanity had. Turning to him and holding out the knife as though you’d looked threatening. 

“I always knew Saera Targaryen hid other girls around for prized keeping. I didn’t think the daughter would be the one I’d find. Lucky me.” He licked his pipes and walked toward you slowly, sometimes falsely jumping forward just to see you yell in fear and jump back. His laugh at your weakness made your stomach turn and your mind pruden. 

Your grip on the knife got stronger and stronger to the point where it might’ve cut you harder than it would’ve ever cut him. You didn’t realize until your back hit the wall, that you were cornered, with nowhere to run between you and the disgusting man. 

“D-Do you know who I am?! I could have you speared from ass to mouth for this!” The unconvincing tone in your voice did nothing to sway him. You can have him killed, that’s not a lie, but it didn’t sound like the truth.

He said nothing, you just now noticed the knife in his hand. It was covered in fresh blood still slowly gathering on the tip of the blade. You looked back up to him, he noticed that you noticed.

“This? There was a whore cunt walking the halls and I couldn’t have her screaming and running away. I’d had her before so there was no point in trying her again.”

Your mind went numb, you couldn’t think. Marra… it was Marra's blood. He killed Merra and left her body in the hallway, didn’t he? Marra was dead.

The woman who cared for you since you were a babe. When your mother couldn’t when your mother was too busy. She was there. Whore or not. She was your second mother. Your thoughts were jumbled and scattered.

You don’t even remember how you got here.

The next thing you see is you over his corpse with his throat slit and your arms tired from gouging your knife in and out of his skull. No one would’ve even known that he was a grotesquely ugly man, he is reduced to maimed and unrecognizable. By the strain of your arms, you had been going at it for 3 minutes uninterrupted. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop, blood had splattered up your arms, on your chest, and dripping down your chin.

Arms wrapped around your waist and hulled you away from the man. The two of you collapsed back on the floor, you couldn’t take the knife with you, it had been driven so deep it was stuck in the floor. 

You attempted to claw yourself out of the grip of your restrainer; your body was telling you, you weren’t done, you needed to keep going, it felt carnal. 

“Sister! It’s alright! It’s your Big Brother!” Vaegon shook you with a tight grip around your arms and chest.

There was no way you’d be able to free yourself from his grip. Your body was forced to calm down, you collapsed into Vaegons hold. Your body was tired, all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“I- I- Marra“was still delirious you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even register it was Vaegon holding you.

“Shhh… I know sister, Shhhh…” Vaegon rocked you back and forth, rubbing your hair softly.

You barely noticed when Vaegon started to lick the blood off your face. You couldn’t muster up the energy or the thought process to feel anything about it.

“If that will bring you to peace, then… I will share your wishes with the small council.” A sigh came from the Queen's lips. Her assumptions of your character were challenged in the past 24 hours. You could tell in the way her eyes changed from when you first met her to how she looks at you now 

She looks at you like a small injured chick that has fallen from the nest. The past 24 hours have ruined your reputation, you will be seen as a little foreign girl who cried like a babe. The ladies of the court will look down at you as a kicked puppy. Vaegon ruined everything before you even had a chance… 

Alicent touched your hand with hers, she gave you a pitiful look.

“In the Faith of the Seven, forgiveness is a great step to take. However, your brother's attack is a matter bigger than you or I. A letter will be sent to your mother informing her of what has transpired.” 

“Thank you, my Queen.” You forced your voice and a smile, she must believe you want to help Vaegon.

“Once you are healed. You are welcome to visit the sept with me.” She gave your hand a final rub and gestured to make her leave.

This wasn’t to help Vaegon at all, you wanted nothing more than for him to die. Vaegon wasn’t a kill Westeros could have, this is yours. 

To slide a knife at his throat like a musician making sweet melodies on a violin. To see the despair in his eyes when he knew his sister was the one to take his life. Perhaps you would strangle him and watch life leave his eyes. Torturing him for days and nights until he gave out. Begging at your skirts with snot and tears running down his face for you to spare him. You didn’t want a crowd, this was personal, this was private.

Vaegon is yours

You stood over Marra's corpse. 

Her body was cleaned, her throat sewed back up, new proper clothes dressed her body, tasteful makeup.

The man didn’t just slit her throat he sawed at it. Her head was almost off her neck but he couldn’t get through her spine. 

She died just because you existed, she was simply doing what she did every day. She didn’t instigate, she didn’t bother anyone. She just happened to be alive in this man’s way to get to you.

A Red Priest wasn’t supposed to arrive for another hour to administer The Last Kiss. A death rite in the faith of R’hllor, where a Priest blows fire from his mouth into the deceased and burns them inside. 

Vaegon stood behind you, unmoving, hands folded in front of his form. When you looked back at him you couldn’t tell a thing about him, he looked different. He didn’t look sad, it was something you hadn’t seen before.

He moved to stand directly behind you, his chest pressed against your back and his breath on your hair. His hands held your waist on both sides, caressing up and down gently. You pry at his hands, digging your nails into his skin and trying to shake yourself free.

“Vaegon-!”

“You need someone to take care of you now. Please allow that to be me, sweet sister.” Vaegon leaned in and kissed your cheek trying to sway you into a full kiss.

“Marra!- get the fuck off me! You’re sick, Vaegon!” You yelled, you shook and flailed to escape him but his grip simply grew tighter. He chased after your face to get a chance to get a taste of your sweet rosey lips, his left hand daring to venture lower. You continued to scream and kick to get away.

“Agh!-“ Vaegon yelled in pain abruptly, releasing you from his tight hold leaving you to sink to the ground in shock. 

“How dare you Vaegon!” Your mother had a grip on the hair of Vaegons scalp as she yanked him down to the floor by his hair.

“Mommy!- I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Vaegon cried as Saera held his head up and started striking him repeatedly across the face. Vaegon could overpower your mother easily, but he would never dare in a thousand winters. He could only sit there, take it, and beg for it to stop.

You breathed heavily, bringing yourself back to witness the sight of your brother getting what was coming to him. 

“Go to your room!” Your mother paused and flicked her head to you.

“But I didn’t do any-!“

“NOW!!!!” She screamed at you in a way you hadn’t heard before. You scrambled up onto your feet and hauled your ass up to your room before she could demand it again.

You heard her screams at Vaegon, relentlessly rolling off her tongue along with slapping and Vaegons pleas for ‘mommy’ to stop.

‘Did I nurse a wild fucking animal at my breast?!’ ‘Over her corpse Vaegon?!’ ‘You could have any whore in my supply and you push yourself onto my only girl?!’

You sunk back into your tub with Alicents leave. You sat like an alligator waiting for prey, emerging from the water with eyes resting above.

Perhaps being seen as weak isn’t the weakness you thought it would be. A weak woman means sympathy, it means comfort from the ladies of the court, it means your mistakes can be written off as naivety.

Your mother showed you what a conniving and smart woman looked like. You didn't cross the narrow sea to be a cowering princess. 

You must pull the strings of your destiny as your mother did. 

Starting small of course.

[reblrths]

finch knows they know more -- but they don't interrogate them. they've always been aware that, in the grand scheme of things, there were more pressing matters to be dealt with, to focus their rage on, a bigger picture. they should be focusing on how to best help their team in the arena, strategies to go over, things like that -- not rampaging around backstage demanding to know who popped their tribute's arm out of its socket. but focusing on things they can control -- like finding whoever it was that did this -- rather than what they cannot -- like who lives or dies and what to expect in the arena -- feels better than sitting around and just taking it. if they had to be labeled as impulsive or vengeful for it, so be it.

they slap amp's hand away from their shoulder halfheartedly. finch clears off one of the desks for them to lay down on and silently move into the right stance to pop it back into place. they aren't a professional (and they hate that they actually wish she was here now to fix this), but they know what needs to be done -- it's not as if this is the first time. they reach for amp's wrist, a firm grip as they slowly move their arm to a 90-degree angle from where they lay. "shouldn't have been holding you in the first place," finch grumbles. "if he was doing his job, this wouldn't have happened. but we all know how good they are at that, don't we?" there's a bitter twinge to their voice and a cynical little smile as they finally pull the arm into its rightful place with a satisfying noise. "you're gonna need the brace." they mumble, moving to sit by amp once they're up, too. they glance at amp briefly before adding dryly, "and a makeup wipe."

they'd been taller than finch since they were fourteen years old, but these moments never failed to make them feel about two feet tall. it's the shame, if they had to guess. the shame of being seen like this. the shame of someone knowing how bad it was. even if that person never, ever held judgement or disapproval to them for their circumstances, never blamed them for any of it, gave them no reason to feel this shame, it burned all the same. and as finch pulls them to a chair to sit, the pain becomes more intense now, the adrenaline dying down and letting everything actually hit them. sitting down jostles their arm no matter how careful they try to be and they inhale sharply, voice slightly strained as they try to answer. "i don't...i don't know." a half truth. "he..." they debate for a moment. "i didn't see his face." a half truth again. they're not lying to finch right now. the peacekeepers all looked the same in their stupid get up, which was kind of the point. there was no way to know for certain who it had been without amp hearing him speak, and the idea of being marched around until they heard the right one made them almost as nauseous as the pain in their arm.

when finch asks if it's dislocated --again, dislocated again, this is far from the first time it's happened since they came back-- the half shrug they give is white hot pain, and they swear sharply under their breath. "i, i didn't notice, i was-- was just trying to get away from him. i, uh-- fuck." it's sharper this time as their opposite hand goes over their shoulder as they try to move their arm, the motion feeling as wrong under their good hand as it does down their bad arm. and there's the answer. "yeah. yeah, he-- i fucked it up. i pulled away. wouldn't have happened if i hadn't pulled away. he would have let me go." it almost sounds like they're trying to get themself to believe that, which...yeah. and now this adds another step to this entire stupid process, because they'll need that stupid fucking shoulder brace once it's back in place and this is going to fuck up the few days they have left, actually. they're only vaguely aware that the pain made their eyes water again, brushing it away when it itched and their hand coming away black and blue and silver. they know they look like absolute shit now.

[knockoff-conlon]

modern newsies hcs!!

- albert has pots and faints a LOT because he does nothing to manage it. has lots of bruises/cuts from this.

- davey wears a magen david around his neck. his mom gave it to him on his bar mitzvah day.

- race is a classically trained ballerina.

- kid blink is just constantly getting into fights at school (he wins)

- jack's mom died when he was a kid and after she died, his dad was abusive. jack was emancipated at 15.

- finch has autism. he's hyperfixated on birds and will randomly blurt fun facts.

- crutchie uses forearm crutches.

- spot has a bad knee injury from when he was a little kid and fell down the stairs. often wears a knee brace/knee tape. he doesn't explain it. theories are spread.

- splint is a bit of a ho (very affectionate) and the others don't understand how she gets so many men + women.

- katherine is on the girls' ice hockey team in high school. not only is she jacked but she is also violent when she's challenged.

- sarah is older than davey and jack by three years but only two years older than kath.

- race is abnormally strong, wins every arm wrestle ever. can pick spot up and toss him around like a pizza.

[asidian]

The Difference an Hour Makes: Chapter 14

by: Asidian

Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives

Pairing: Charles/Edwin

Warnings: injury, kidnapping, torture, hurt/comfort, hallucinatory nightmares, past child abuse

Excerpt:

"You cannot have us again," says Edwin, through lips that are mostly numb.

Behind him, he is aware of Charles moving to get up off the bed, and there is something so unspeakably unfair about it that it makes Edwin want to shout unseemly things. Charles is meant to be resting. He is injured, still; he has barely had a moment to recover, and yet here is Esther Finch again, to ruin what little respite he's managed to claim.

"Oh, don't be silly," says Esther, and she tips her head. "Of course I can. I can have whatever I want."