#i AM mad at that and it feels like my life is about to end because of it

[just-some-random-blogger]

CRISTIIIIIII YOUR GIF IS SENDING HAHAHA HOW DO YOU FIND THOSE???? btw I get most of my meme reactions on Pinterest and I do indeed keep a folder 🤭😋🤣 I'd be more than willing to share them with you. Expect a spam of them on your inbox soon 😁

TO BE HONEST, daemons reaction wasnt really freaky, it was more like hey I like your touch I don't mind if you hurt me I miss you I'd rather you touch me and it hurt than not be on the receiving end of your hand you know. But absolutely he's a freak too HAHAHAH

I don't need you to forgive me btw 😋😋😋 stay mad and suffering HAHAHAHAH

My poor poor baby, I feel so bad for her. I am glad that Daemon is getting his due, obviously, but not at the cost of her health! I want her to live so badly, you scare me so much every time she gets sick.

😁😁😁 I can't help that I'm iconic

The kiss of life is in fact a cpr thing... At least I think. I really nearly killed her cos I did research on medieval cpr and found nothing and I did a whole poll on it and I had many readers come and help me figure it out!!! I love my readers 🫶🫶🫶 the kiss of life is apparently canon and from the iron borns and I think I diluted it a bit to be fr fr cpr cos it's just mouth to mouth without chest compressions. I also 100% imagine Daemon desperately atop her, trying to keep her alive. Also I'm not gonna lie to you, I've forgotten I was 🤏 this close to killing her HAHAHHAH

I love you so much I'm so happy you think write angst well. It's all I ever want 🥺🥺 suffer hihi 🥰🥰🥰

I loved Aegon again. My absolute precious faves of this fic are Aegon and the Twins, they can do no wrong because they are perfect and precious.

100% agree no notes

Btw don't you ever apologize for reading late ): I love you so much Im merely honored you've stuck around my love. Kissing you so much ao sweety so dearly. AND FUCK I WAS GONNA MESSAGE YOU ABOUT YOUR FOOD POISONING BUT I'M PRETTY SURE I DIDNT. I HOPE YOUVE COME TO A HEALTHY WEIGHT MY LOVE. COME BACK TIDDIES COME BACK

Tormented Spirit | 14

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: as always please consider leaving me a comment/reblog ok | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones @ashton-trashton

You clutch you chest as you walk into your bedroom. You lean back onto the wooden door after closing it and slowly sink to the ground. You gasp for air as a myriad of emotions cut through you.

You stare off into space, reeling from the entire interaction. You start when you hear a knock on the door. You hear the voices of your servants. You turn to the knob, reach up for it, and slowly open it from where you sat.

"Princess?" worried voices call.

Your voice is small, "I'm here."

A servant peeps her head through the small opening and gasps when she sees you. She slinks her way in, and soon does the other one. They both help you up and fuss over you. You tell them you only need help getting dressed, nothing more.

Your servants manage to make you look like a princess after dressing you and fixing your hair. They even paint your lips and cheeks with rouge, making it as though you weren't look so ghastly.

You feel ghastly as you make your way to the maester's ward though. Dread grows with each step you take, thus why you move so sluggish. You only snap out of it when you hear someone call for you.

"AUNT!"

You come alive at the sight of Aegon running over. You find his mother smiling behind him, clutching her belly as she followed after the boy. You crouch down and reach for him.

Aegon giggles as he jumps into your arms, "AUNT!"

You kiss his temple and embrace him fondly, "sȳz ñāqes, ñuha valītsos." Good morning, my boy.

You grunt as you stand with the young prince in your arms. Alicent is soon before you, "good morn," she smiles, though it flattens when she sees your eyes, "sister..."

You shake your head, "it's Daemon."

The queen clenches her jaw.

Aegon finds interest in the jewel on your neck. He takes it in his hand and tries to eat it. You turn to him and shush him, moving his hand away.

"What did he do to you?" your sister asks.

"Not to me," you turn to her, "to my wards."

Alicent knits her brows.

"They..." you sigh. The image of Daemon's bloody face haunts you, "they brawled outside my bedroom."

"What?" she pulls her head back.

"His face was bloody..." your voice shakes, "and... he said things to me-"

"Aunt, cake!" Aegon announces, grabbing your cheeks.

Alicent turns to her son, pushing his hands off you, "darling, mummy said you'll get cake later."

Aegon whines, "cake!"

You turn to Aegon, shushing him momentarily before turning back to Alicent, "I slapped him."

Your sister freezes, a line forming between her brows. She takes a moment before replying, "you slapped Daemon?"

You simply stare at her as Aegon throws his head back and whines, "CAKEEEEE!"

You watch as the boy begins to squirm whilst crying out for cake. You try to calm him, but eventually, Alicent takes him from you. She manages to calm the boy by offering to play with him instead. Aegon scratches his teary eyes, turning to you. He points.

You stroke his head, "I'll play with you later."

He whines, "NOOOOO!"

"My love," Alicent whispers against his cheek, "aunt has to go-"

"NOOO!"

"I just have to go get cake for you, Aegon," you shush him, "you want cake, right?"

Aegon pouts as tears stream down his face.

"Why don't you go play with mummy and aunt will get cake for us?"

Alicent kisses Aegon's tears away and he nods. The boy sighs, "no long."

You nod in understanding, "no, sweetheart. I will not take long."

With that, you leave your nephew and sister, continuing your walk to the maester's ward. When you arrive, your stomach drops as the arguing you hear coming from inside.

When you open the door, the room goes silent. You immediately lock eyes with Daemon who was standing next to your maester.

"Oh, thank the gods," the old man says.

You walk in with knit brows, "what is happening?"

"The prince refuses that I tend to his wounds," the maester says, handing you an iron tray that had both a damp and dry cloth, "he insists only on receiving care for you, my princess."

Of course. You stare at the tray, recalling years ago when he did the same after his tourney, the wordlessly take it. You examine the room, quickly finding your wards sitting on cots.

They stand to attention when you turn to them and nod, "princess."

Daemon feels his hand tremble as you walk towards them.

"Are you two well?"

The twins examine your demeanor before nodding slowly, "yes."

"Have you any injuries?"

"No."

"Good," you nod, "you may leave."

Their eyes widen.

You walk towards Daemon grabbing his arm, "sit."

"Princess?" Erryk asks, "do you mean-"

"Both," you spare them a glance, "both of you may retire."

Daemon turns to them, slowly sitting on the cot.

You turn, "I beg your pardon, maester, but would you do me a favor?"

Erryk is silenced. Arryk feels dread in his stomach as he nods, "we shall away then, my princess."

"How might I serve, princess?" the maester asks.

Daemon watches the twins walk out, awfully pleased with himself, until he feels his head begin to throb.

"Would you please go to the kitchen and request cake be delivered to Aegon?"

The maester is taken aback by the request but otherwise nods, "of course."

"Thank you," you nod, watching him leave.

Daemon does the same.

The moment it's just you and him, he turns to you, finding your eyes are already on him. He clenches his jaw, regretting it when it makes the pain in his nose flare.

Your sigh, walking towards him. You start when he touches your hip.

His lips part as consequences, "I-"

"Don't speak," you take the damp towel and hand him the tray, "I do not wish to speak to you as I tend to your wounds."

Daemon withdraws the hand he had on your hip in lieu of taking the tray. The metal thing felt blistering and heavy. He lowers his head.

"Don't move," you snap, grabbing his chin. When he lifts his head, you quickly retreat your hand, realizing you were about to force his gaze up which would have hurt him. You didn't want to hurt him, regardless of how he made you feel.

Daemon does not think this is why you pull away; he thinks the look of him disgusted you, especially in this state. His grip on the tray tightens.

You could tell his nose was broken from how his eyes were swollen. Many an occasion has this happened to Gwayne. You sigh and shake your head, "you should have let the maester see to your nose at least."

It was strange that now that you were before him, he could barely feel the pain on his face, not because it was gone but because felt it every where, most especially in his chest.

"It's broken," you mutter, placing a hand on his cheek.

Daemon leans back to allow you more access to his face. He so badly wanted to lean into your touch, but he was afraid you'd pull away again. Instead, he closes his eyes, "is it crooked?"

You examine his nose, "no," you trace his bridge with your thumb.

His breath hitches and his skin pricks with goosebumps.

"But a vein must have ruptured from the hit," you say as you wipe the blood off him.

Daemon involuntarily winces.

You immediately pull back, "I-"

He opens his eyes and snatches your hand.

You stare at each other for a long moment.

He brings your hand to his cheek, "think nothing of it," his eyes are watery. His thumb rubs your skin, "do not pull away."

When he releases you, you finish off wiping the red off his skin until all that was left on his face were purple bruises and split skin. You comb his hair back with your fingers and it makes his brows furrow. You sigh, take the tray from him, and set it aside, "I did not mean for that to hurt."

"It didn't," he mutters, watching you go through the objects on the maester's table. You take the ointment and turn back to him. He adds, "I liked it."

You grit your teeth and swipe a dollop of salve on your finger.

Daemon notices your reaction, "are you angry with m-"

"I told you not to speak," you snap for the second time.

His lips part, but only a sigh comes out.

You inhale sharply.

He can feel your hand tremble as you rub the ointment on his wounds. It hurts, not because of the pressure you apply on his skin, but because he knows your anger is the cause of your tremors.

You look him once over after tending to his cuts then examine his body, "anywhere else you're injured, prince?"

"Daor," he mutters, shaking his head, "sepār ñuha prūmia." No, just my heart.

You chuckle dryly at his words, quickly turning away from him to shake your head in disbelief.

Daemon swallows a lump that forms in his throat, "kostilus." Please.

You turn to him, scratching your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of him. "Skoros yno?" What of mine?

His eyes follow you as you sit down next to him. He shifts in his spot to face you.

You grip the cot, "gaomagon ao pendagon ñuha prūmia ēza daor ōdrio." You take a deep breath before turning to him. Do you think my heart has no wound?

He sees the tears build in your eyes. He reaches out to wipe it, but you recoil and do it off yourself. He curls his hand into a fist and rests it on his lap. He whispers your name and licks his lips, "it was not my intention."

"Then what was your intention then?" you quip, eyes refusing to leave his though it blurred with tears, "if not to sear holes into my heart?"

What was his intention? What was his intention? Why was it that he found your letters so gut-curling and unseemly? Why was the thought of reading your words while he was seas apart so sickening? He opens his mouth, "I do not know."

You are stunned by his response. It makes you stiffen in your spot. Your stomach sours and your breath hitches, "... you do not even know why you resent me so?"

"I do not resent you," he raises his voice slightly, "but I did bare resentment." He shakes his head, "perhaps for my brother, for your brother, for your father."

You scratch your eyes again. You sigh and nod, "I see."

Daemon's hands flinch.

"So," you knit your brows, "you cast your resentment onto me because..."

His throat tightens though his jaw slacks, "why do you insist upon this?"

"What do you mean?!" you raise.

"You insist to misunderstand me."

"I insist the opposite, you fool!" you snap, coming to a stand, "every day I wrote to you, even after I knew for certain you would not!"

The balm on Daemon's face is washed with the salt from his eyes, "I've read them."

You tense but then you shake your head, "liar."

The word makes him whimper, "last night. I read them all. I read about how you ate cake, and went to the sea, and wrote to Laenor, and-"

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" you blurt, feeling your breath grow short, "those letters were not meant to be read that way."

"But, I know your heart now," he slowly stands.

You laugh, "know my heart!"

"Or the parts you opened up to me," he reaches a hand. He sniffles; it feels like a blade up the nostrils. "If it pleases you, I would write a thousand letters in return."

You scoff, taking a step back, "you would survive three years of silence from me?"

The thought shatters him.

You watch as red drips from his nose to his lips. You do nothing but wait for his response.

He shakes his head, "I would not."

You shake your head and grab the dry towel for him. He takes it and feels his stomach drop when you begin to pace around. The closer you get to the door, the more uneasy he feels. He cannot help himself, "kostilus gaomagon daor henujagon nyke." Please do not leave me.

The thought makes you laugh, so you do. You turn to him, nearly moved to spit at his face. He so brazenly requests such a thing from you when he paid you no heed when you requested the same from him. You do not act beneath yourself though, "iksan daor tetan lēda ao." I am not finished with you.

He does not like the tone with which you speak this, and yet he says, "iksan biare." I am glad.

"Why did you ambush my wards?"

Daemon tenses.

"How did you come into my chambers if they were keeping watch outside?"

He wipes the blood off his lips, "there are secret passages to nearly every room in the castle."

You shrug and cross your arms, "did you attack them because it would be too easy to attack me?"

He pulls his head back, "do not vilify me," he shake his head, "do not presume I would ever atta-"

"YOU ARE MY VILLAIN!" your splintered resolve finally breaks. You unleash your rage by the hurtling your heel at him. Your right shoe misses Daemon by a hair, but your left shoe hits him in the shoulder when he turns to dodge your assault.

You charge at him with a guttural screech, fully intent on battering his body, but he does not let you. He grabs your wrists and easily overpowers you, calling your name out.

Daemon traps you in his arms and in return, you begin kicking him. He yelps when you kick his shin, but does not release you. He shudders as he tightens his arms around you, "kostilus, kostilus keligon. Gīda ilagon, ik—" please, please stop. Calm down, I—

"LET ME GO!" you shriek, exerting all of your strength into elbowing him.

You can't though, his hold on you was too strong. And though he hated that this was how he got to hold you, he could not help the way his face leaned into your nape to breathe in your scent. He weeps against you, begging you to calm down.

And you do, not because you want to, but because you could no longer breathe.

Daemon feels it, the exact moment you tense just to go limp. His hold on you loosens in an instant. It was a mistake because of how you flop forward. His heart leaps into his mouth as he feels your body spasm and gasp for air.

He lays you down on the cot and his eyes go wide at the sight of the veins popping out of your neck. He immediately rubs your chest and frantically calls out your name.

You looked like you were choking. A drowned man in the Stepstones immediately comes to mind.

He takes your jaw and breathes air into your mouth. A string of snot mixed with blood is drawn out between you as he pulls away to examine your face.

He had only seen it once. One of the men from the fleet was found washed up shore. When he was dragged out, they fully intended to bury him, until an Iron Born came forward.

Daemon presses his hands atop your ribs and begins to pump your chest. He does this a few times before pinching your nostrils and breathing into your mouth again. He remembered what the Iron Born called it: the kiss of life. He brings to mind the explanation the Iron Born gave when he had asked how he did it.

And as he did it on you, he could only pray that he remembered it right.

The prince could barely see from how his tears blurred his vision. It looked like you were going grey and whatever he was doing wasn't working. His voice shakes as he blurts, "kostilus, gaomagon daor henujagon nyke!" please, do not leave me.

You eyelids begin to close.

"KOSTILUS," he pumps your chest again, "vestā īlē daor tetan lēda nyke!" He shudders as he wills you to come back to consciousness. PLEASE, you said you were not finished with me!

You feel your lungs deflate. You can't seem to feel anything else.

Daemon grabs your cheeks and breathes into your mouth again, and again, and again. He presses his head to your chest and listens closely to your heart beat. Tears rush down to your skin as he screws his eyes shut. He can't hear anything. He can't hear anything.

He scoops you into you his chest and sobs into you. He mutters your name repeatedly. He cannot seem to do anything else but weep.

He takes your hand, cold and clammy, and squeezes it as he brings it to his mouth to kiss it, "please, please, please, don't leave me."

He sniffles and straightens up. Help. He should call for help. "MAESTER! MAESTER!" He comes to a stand, but his knees are weak and he crumples down to the floor.

A few moments later, a maester from one of the inner offices emerges. Seeing the distraught prince with a bloody nose, he is taken aback, "my prince-"

"HELP HER!" he howls from the floor. He tries to come to a stand, but even his arm gives in and he slips down to the floor. He resigns to his misery and lays on his back, "HELP MY WIFE!"

The maester runs to you, nearly tripping on the legs of the prince.

As Daemon groans helplessly, the maester that had gone to have cake delivered to young prince Aegon arrives. He runs up to the prince, "my prince, what has-"

"My wife is dead, isn't she?" Daemon mumbles through a sob.

The maester stiffens and turns to the other maester with wide eyes, "what has-"

"Her heartbeat is weak," the other maester blurts, "she succumbed to her affliction, no doubt."

The old man walks over Daemon and comes to your side. The one who had inspected you turns to the prince, "rise, your grace. She is not overcome. Her heart persists even in weakness."

Daemon lifts his head and scrambles to his knees. He calls your name, lips wobbling, cheeks wet with sorrow, a red streak trickled down from his nose.

"However," the same maester says as he gives way to Daemon, "I fear there is nothing else we can do but pray her heart keeps persisting." He offers the prince a towel.

He sniffles, opting to wipe his face on his sleeve. He shakes his head, "she will persist. She is not finished with me."

The maesters look at each other. One says, "we shall give you your privacy, Prince Daemon. I shall have the sept pray for her health and strength."

Daemon kneels beside your cot, squeezing one of your hands, "a blanket, maester. She is cold."

"Of course," he offers him the blanket neatly folded on the other cot.

The two maesters leave after Daemon cloaks you with a blanket. He tucks you in and brushes your brown hair away from your face. He sniffles as he looks upon you. Another bout of sobs arrest him.

He rests his head upon your lap, unwanting to put pressure upon your chest or belly. He embraces you as he despairs. His voice his broken as he says your name. He dries his tears on the blanket before coming to a stand.

He finds the maesters, all huddled up and muttering to each other in the office room.

"My prince," one says, walking over, "what is—"

"Is th-ere truly nothing to be done?" his voice cracks, low and pained.

They look at each other for a moment. One replies, "forgive us, your grace, but no."

Daemon makes a pained noise as he sniffles.

The maesters all look upon the troubled prince with pity.

"Right," he wipes his face on his sleeve, "I will bring her to our chambers then, that I may share in her embrace. Perhaps my heat and desperation with strengthen her body."

They nod as Daemon walks off.

The prince gathers you in his arms. You feel lighter than he remembers. He gazes upon your face, thinking of the day he had carried you home from the temple. He remembers your terrible prayer and gulps, "the gods do not grant such cruel things."

He walks down the halls that presently felt haunted. He can barely feel your breathing on his neck. He prays it is because has been thickened from the burns he suffered in the Stepstones.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Alicent with her son lingering in one of the halls. He and her stare at each other heatedly for a good moment. He continues walking.

Alicent turns to Aegon, "my darling, we should go inside."

"No!" Aegon whines, "AUNT!"

Daemon's chest tightens.

Alicent distracts him as Daemon comes closer, "later, my love we will-"

The distraction does not work. Aegon spots you and recognizes you too easily, "AUNT!"

Alicent tries to hold him back, but she can only do so much in her pregnant state.

Daemon stops in his tracks once more as the young boy runs up to him. Aegon, with his tiny hands and big violet eyes, reaches out for you.

Alicent runs over, "Aegon, no!" She pulls him away.

Aegon whines but stops when Daemon says, "issa ēdrure, valītsos." She is sleeping, boy.

Alicent clenches her teeth. Aegon furrows his brows, "ēdrure?" Sleep?

"Kessa," Daemon mutters, "issa olvie ēdrugī." Yes. She is very tired.

Aegon pouts, "cake!"

"Tolī. Ziry teptan ao iā kivio, gōntan ziry daor?" Later. She gave you a promise, did she not?

Aegon blinks at him and points, "sad."

Daemon tenses.

"Mundagon sodjisto ēdrugon." Sad aunt sleeps.

Daemon adjusts you in his arms as he looks off. He hastens in his way back to your shared chambers.

Alicent watches the man walk away with her sister in his arms. A shiver runs down her spine as she begins to think the worst.

Daemon changes you out of your dress and undoes your hair. He tucks you in bed before changing himself. He lights a single candle by the bedside table before lying beside you.

He nuzzles into your neck and throws his leg over yours. He rubs your bare sternum, glad to be able to feel the thumping of your heart.

His stream of tears do not seem to cease. He can now feel every fibre of pain on his face and body. He aches and aches; He aches mostly for you.

He thinks back to your last conversation. He recalls the explanation he owes you, "I did it because you spoke their names in your sleep."

You sigh heavily.

Daemon lifts his head up, hoping you would wake. You do not.

He sighs, wiping his face on his dress shirt and clarifies, "Arryk and Erryk."

He looks upon your form. Your face shines under candlelight. He longs to see it under the light of the sun and moon.

"I cannot bare to know you dream of them," he mutters, propping himself up on one arm, "you moaned their name."

Your arms are already warm but Daemon rubs them still.

"Gods know how I surely moaned your name in my sleep," he sighs, "... as I fucked other women."

You remain unmoving.

"Did they sate you, I wonder?" his throat tightens. He feels a hot tear run down his nose, "... did you moan my name when they fucked you?"

Jealously, anger, and hurt force more tears out of him. He rests his head on your chest, awfully defeated. He clutches the fabric of your nightgown as he laments with his eyes screwed shut.

"Do you dream of me?"

Warmth spreads across his cheek. He feels his snot begin to drip. He moves to wipe his nose, but feels something in the way.

You fool.

His eyes open. His lips part when he realizes your hand is on his cheek. He lifts his head, placing his hand atop yours.

"D—mon."

His breath trembles. He squeezes your hand, "I'm here." He kisses your palm.

Your eyes slowly open.

Daemon's heart skips. He laughs but quickly breaks into a sob.

You can barely see his face in the darkness, but you can feel the way his head shook as he wept. You brush your tears with your thumb and repeat the words Daemon thought he imagined you say, "you fool."

He shudders as he watches you knit your brows.

"I dream only one dream," you whisper. You grunt as you feel your head pound, "and it is neither of my wards or you."

He shifts slightly to better see you, careful to keep your hand on his face. He asks, soft and careful, "what do you dream of?"

He tenses when you pull away. He is about to beg for forgiveness for even asking, but then he realizes you merely wished to sit up. He helps you lean back on the headboard and sits beside you, hands fidgeting with the blanket, for he did not know if you wanted to hold his hand.

You don't. Your hands go to his beaten face. You sigh, "our children."

Daemon's expression slips.

"Alaeric and Alyrie," you add, gently rubbing his cheeks, "it was not Arryk nor Erryk's name I muttered, but theirs."

His hands come atop yours again. His eyes are red with tears.

"They-" your lips tremble, "-they were a moon too early."

The sound of your name spilling from his lips is horrible.

You lower your gaze and slowly pull away from him. You clutch your chest when you feel it begin to tighten. You take your time to draw in deep breaths to calm yourself.

Daemon brushes your hair back and rubs your arms.

You whine when he touches you. You pull away, "please, don't."

It is worse than a kick to the teeth how you move back. He is frantic when you look as though you wanted to leave bed. He calls out your name and immediately begins to apologize, "please. Forgive me. I will not tou-"

"I need to go for a walk," you mutter as you come to a stand.

Daemon immediately springs into action, taking your arm, helping you keep yourself upright. You grip his bicep and point to the chair, "my robe."

He immediately takes your robe and helps you put it on. He proceeds to help you slip your shoes on and you whine at the tightening of your chest. Daemon is frantic, "what is it? What is happening? What do you need?"

You shake your head and sigh, "a walk... just a walk."

Neither of you speak as you walk outside of your room. You saunter down the now dark halls holding Daemon's bicep. His gaze barely leaves you. He is focused only on your conditions.

You feel exhausted, and you turn to the prince, figuring he probably felt the same way, "it's not much farther."

He shakes his head, "where you go, I will follow."

You see the worry on his face. You do not have it in you to try and comfort him. You turn away and rub your chest.

Soon, you arrive to your destination. The gardens are lit up by the light of the stars and the moon. You move past the thick rose bushes and find the fountain that rest behind them.

Daemon is surprised by its existence.

You take notice, "my father had it commissioned for me."

He gasps when you release him and chases after your hand.

You watch as he squeezes you and shake your head, "I will just walk around the fountain, Daemon."

He turns to the said fountain, watching leaves and blossoms flow with the trickling water. He nods, "then so shall I."

Daemon secures your hand on his bicep. You do not argue, "very well."

The two of you walk around the large, rounded stone. Daemon is one again focused only on you. On the other hand, you are solely focused on loosening the tightness in your lungs.

"Will you tell me more about them?"

Them? You didn't not want to talk about them, lest you faint. You reach for a rose bud that fell into the water and fish it out. You take a moment to decide on your answer and end up shaking your head, "another time."

Daemon is disheartened by your response for he did not know if you did not want to speak of your children because of how greatly it hurt or because you simply did not want to speak to him. Still, he nods, "of course."

It does not take long for you to completely circle around the fountain. You look at the flower in your hand, "you do not have to trace all my steps."

"I do."

You turn to him.

His breath hitches.

"Why?"

He momentarily looks at the flower in your hand, "I do not want you to go where I cannot follow."

You stop in your tracks; so does he.

He stares at you, hoping you had something to say.

You don't. You continue walking.

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Oh, It’s You ~

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Ex-Sneaky Link!JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Adult AU, post season 4 by a year but I won’t be mentioning canon plot points bc of JJ’s s4 ending. Please point out any mistakes❤️

After months of hooking up with JJ in secret, you both began developing deep feelings for each other, but when his friends, Kie especially, learn of your relationship and plot on it’s downfall JJ leaves you reeling and confused as he enters a relationship with his best friend leaving you to wonder what you did to push him away so quickly. Unbeknownst to you however. the blonde was struggling more than he let on, wanting nothing more than to go his own path but feeling trapped with those who used to make him feel free. The only person he can think of now that makes him feel as open as he once did is….you.

Warnings: Angst, Emotional Cheating, ooc Kie(she really sucks for plot), Daddy issues mentioned, JJ’s confused asf.

~~~~

You jump as you step out of your bathroom to the sight of JJ Maybank sprawled across your bed spraying himself with your most expensive perfume.

“Jesus Jay you scared me, how did you get in here?” You ask, your voice breathless as you tug your fluffy robe over your revealing nightgown.

“Climbed,” JJ states with a smirk as though it was entirely acceptable, “you should really lock your window at night by the way.” He adds, flinging his legs off the side of your bed before hopping up to look around your room.

“Well I have never had a guy climb through my window in the middle of the night.” You state, slightly exasperated at the sight of him in your bedroom however at your words JJ’s smile only widens.

“Oh really? I’m the first to have that privilege then?” JJ laughs, looking to you over his shoulder for only a second before he’s turning to your dresser, opening the top drawer to snoop.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your tone desperate as you hadn’t even heard from the blonde in over a month let alone actually seen him.

“Needed a place to crash, first thought was you.” JJ’s eyes avoid yours while he speaks, your eyebrows furrow at his nonchalant tone as though he hadn’t called off everything between you both right when you thought it might actually move past casual hook ups.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, does Kie know you’re here?” JJ scoffs, his eyes finding yours again, irritation evident in the way he stares back at you.

“I don’t know y/n, she knows she kicked me out of her place because I didn’t want to talk about getting in contact with Rafe fuckin’ Cameron for a job, left me alone outside her house like an idiot knowing I had nowhere to go.” He shrugs, turning to inspect your drawers further before you rush up and slam the second drawer shut, not letting him peak inside at your underwear. You shove him backwards with a glare while he eyes you, smirking with his hands up in mock surrender.

“Look Jay I don’t know what’s going on and I am really sorry but you should probably stay at John B’s or something.” His eyes dim, letting his hands drop to his sides, tugging his lip between his teeth and avoiding your eyes.

“You pissed him off too didn’t you?” You sigh, walking around him with a roll of your eyes. “Fine, but you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.” You roll your eyes at his words, cheeks heating up at how desperate you must seem to him. Letting the man that led you on for months back into your life after he left you for someone so perfect. You and JJ were never official, so it’s not like you could be mad. You agreed to no strings attached and you honestly shouldn’t have been surprised when he said he didn’t want to continue what you had going. But you let yourself be convinced that with each night together getting longer, and each glance across the boneyard feeling deeper, something serious was growing. He made it official with Kie only a week after he stopped asking to see you and that’s when you realized you were just a distraction.

“Well, doesn’t seem like you have the same problem.” You feel the heat of his eyes on your back while you grab an extra blanket and pillow for him, tossing them on the ground with a huff before turning back to JJ trying to maintain a neutral expression, “You should probably leave first thing in the morning my mom doesn’t want guys over.”

“You’re an adult though?” JJ questions, trying to catch your eyes as you desperately avoid his while preparing for bed.

“An adult in my mother’s house.” You state, sliding into bed with your back to him, opting to keep your robe tightly wrapped around yourself despite the heat to keep everything more appropriate. JJ was now a taken man and even though a pang went through your chest at the thought you knew if you were Kie you would hate to learn he spent the night in another woman’s bedroom.

You listen to the way JJ shuffles around the floor trying to get comfortable, fighting the urge to turn around and invite him up just to know he would sleep well. Just knowing he was in the dim light of your dark bedroom for the first time, laying only a few feet away from you, was starting to drive you crazy, and you knew having him in your bed would not be a good idea.

No matter how long you waited for him to finally want to be.

As he lay there on the floor JJ’s eyes stayed locked on the ceiling and sleep avoided him, the thoughts of every night you two spent together rushing through his mind just like they had been for weeks on end. He wanted to tell you the truth but he couldn’t now, you would never believe him, it would sound like he was making up some quick excuse to get in your pants. He never wanted to end things, he wanted you as so much more than a hook up and his friends hated it. Kie hated it. And he didn’t know what to do, he ended things like they said he should and before he knew it Kie was kissing him and like the snap of a finger somehow they were “dating”. Part of him sometimes told him Kie planned this, planting doubt in the possibility of you and him being serious, but that just wasn’t who Kie was.

He could remember the day she found out about you and him, she was livid. She told him you were using him as a way to get over your daddy issues. That you wanted a man your dad would hate because maybe then he would pay attention to you and then you’d end up turning him into some kook and ruining who he was. That all he was to you was a conquest, to tame him until you could take him into your kook life.

But now that he was “with” Kie it seemed more like that was her plan than yours.

When the morning sun hit your eyes waking you up, you quickly noticed the blanket you lent JJ folded neatly with the pillow on top where they were before he used them. Part of you began to think it was all a dream before taking note of the unlocked window he must have used as his exit. You sighed, you knew he’d leave as you asked, he never overstepped like you thought he would before you knew him as well as you did now.

You had to try and stop your chest from feeling heavy at how easy it was for him to leave with no mark left to remind you of his presence.

Just like he left your life.

When you finally checked your phone you were shocked to see his name on your screen. A message from less than an hour ago stating simply.

Jay Thank you, and lock your window.

Catching yourself smiling at your phone you cursed, sending the message a thumbs up only, tossing your phone aside before locking your window and readying yourself for the day. Huffing as you went about your morning routine, getting ready for work and desperately trying steer your thoughts away from the rugged blonde you tried so hard to forget for so long.

~~~~

[Next Part]

I have been wanting to do a JJ story but I’m gonna keep the chapters short like this so I can keep up with them. This will be very angsty and there will be smut later on. This will be focusing on JJ and readers very confusing relationship as they both try and come to terms with how they feel about each other. But as if now JJ is dating Kie. And I love the canon Kie but I did not think I should try and write a full new Pogue for JJ to be manipulated by so this Kie is very much no like the canon Kie we know and love. John B and Sarah also later on act very much out of character but this is intentional.

-Taglist- (ask to be added)

@slut-4-gojo @cali-888

[gojodaily]

Ough...

I thought about Gojo too hard again and now I'm sad.

Liiiike

That one post that's like "Gojo coming back is only a happy ending for you, he's happy in his after life" and all the tags (I'm not mad at that post btw. Like. Again I'm just thinking about shit too hard)

I haven't read the manga cause I literally am not emotionally ready to see how my mans dies

But the thought that he only way he can be happy—

That his only happy ending is in death

That hurts. It makes my stomach churn.

I'm someone who struggles a lot with mental health, and I'm always telling myself "it'll get better, it always gets better"

But then like there's this post about how my comfort character dies, and that's the only way he can be happy, that death is his happy ending—

It makes me think things I don't wanna think. It brings up thoughts I keep trying to push down.

It makes me think maybe death could be my happy ending.

I feel nauseous.

(again. That's like. My own problem obviously. Not the post's fault. Idk I just thought I'd share my Gojo thoughts. Cause this is my Gojo blog and this is something that bothers me often)

[sammonroesangel]

Author's Note: AHHHH! I can't believe I'm releasing my first ever fic/headcannon/idk. This isn't the greatest, I kind of wrote it in a short time frame, BUT I hope you guys enjoy it! 🥹

You had been feeling sick for a few days now- massive headaches, exhaustion that left you wanting to nap every hour, and food aversions, especially to Hayden’s famous blueberry pie (which you used to love). So, like any normal woman whose sex life consisted of making love at like 5 times a week (mainly unprotected recently), you decided to order a few pregnancy tests on Amazon. You told Hayden right away because, let’s be honest, he was the practical one in this situation. He suggested ordering the tests online to avoid awkward run-ins with nosy neighbors or paparazzi. Living on a secluded farm had its perks, but shipping times weren’t one of them. It took a week for the tests to arrive, during which your suspicions grew stronger thanks to the morning sickness that hit you like clockwork every day. When the package finally arrived, he trudged through the fresh snow, retrieved it, and brought it straight to you. "Here you go, sweetheart," he said with a soft smile, though you could tell he was holding back his own nervous excitement. You grabbed a test and ran to the bathroom. Hayden paced outside the door, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. When the result showed positive, you walked out, teary-eyed and smiling, and showed him the test. His face lit up as he hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead. "We're having a baby," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. From that moment on, he was completely in dad mode.

================================================

Pregnancy brought out a whole new side of Hayden. He flat-out banned you from cooking. "You’re growing a whole human. The least I can do is handle dinner," he’d say, gently nudging you away from the kitchen. And it wasn’t just meals—Hayden insisted on taking over most of the chores, leaving you to rest and focus on the baby.

When it came to cravings, Hayden was an absolute champion. Wake up at 2 AM wanting cheese pizza and chocolate-covered pickles? No problem—he was on it without a second thought, even if it meant a midnight run into town. If you craved something else while he was already making dinner, he’d simply adjust. "Don't worry about it," he’d say, kissing your temple. "I’ll save this for later and make whatever you want."

================================================

Hayden quickly learned that pregnancy mood swings were no joke. One minute, you’d be laughing at something silly he said, and the next, you’d be crying because he was burnt to a fucking crisp in a movie he was in 20 years ago. One evening, you were in the kitchen crying over a broken cookie. “It was perfect,” you sniffled, holding up the two halves like they were shattered glass. Hayden walked in, took one look at the situation, and gently plucked the cookie from your hands.

“Sweetheart, it’s still going to taste the same,” he said softly, taking a bite and offering you the other half. You glared at him through your tears but took the piece anyway, pouting.

“It’s not about the cookie,” you mumbled, and he nodded, letting you vent about how everything felt overwhelming lately. He didn’t try to fix it; he just listened, rubbing soothing circles on your back until you calmed down.

Another time, you got unreasonably mad at him for finishing the last of the orange juice, even though he didn’t realize you wanted it. “You’re supposed to know these things!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms. Instead of arguing, Hayden raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I should’ve asked before drinking it. I’ll go get more right now.”

You felt guilty the moment the words left your mouth and tried to stop him, but Hayden just kissed your forehead. “It’s okay. I’ll be back in ten minutes,” he said, grabbing his coat. True to his word, he returned with not one but three cartons of orange juice. “Just in case,” he teased, earning a laugh from you despite yourself. Hayden also became an expert at reading your moods. If you seemed cranky, he’d quietly bring you a snack or run you a bath. If you were teary-eyed, he’d snuggle up with you on the couch and let you cry into his chest while he stroked your hair. He never made you feel bad for the rollercoaster of emotions—you were carrying his baby, after all.

“Your body’s doing something incredible,” he told you one night after a particularly emotional day. “I’ll take a few mood swings over what you’re going through any day.”

================================================As your pregnancy progressed and your body continued to change, it wasn’t always easy to feel confident. There were moments when you’d catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and struggle to recognize the reflection staring back. The swollen ankles, the stretch marks, the way your clothes no longer fit quite right—it all felt overwhelming at times.

One evening, after a long day, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, examining the curve of your belly and the way your favorite dress stretched tightly across your body. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the insecurities crept in. Hayden found you like that, staring silently at your reflection, and he instantly knew something was wrong.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping into the room. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, trying to brush it off, but the lump in your throat made it hard to speak. Finally, you mumbled, “I just… I don’t feel like myself anymore. I feel huge and uncomfortable, and I don’t even look good in anything anymore.”

Hayden’s expression softened as he moved closer, wrapping his arms gently around you from behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at your reflection in the mirror with you. “Sweetheart, you’re growing our baby,” he said, his voice full of awe and love. “You’re doing something so amazing, and I wish you could see how beautiful you are to me.”

You sniffled, leaning into his embrace. “I don’t feel beautiful.”

He turned you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Then let me remind you,” he said firmly but lovingly. “I see the woman I fell in love with, the one who’s giving me the greatest gift I could ever imagine. Your body is changing because it’s creating a little life—a life we made together. That’s incredible.”

He kissed your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, as if sealing his words with his touch. “I know it’s hard to see it right now, but you’re absolutely breathtaking to me. Every curve, every stretch mark, every little change—it’s all a part of this journey, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

His words melted some of your self-doubt, and you found yourself smiling softly. “You always know what to say,” you whispered, resting your hands on his chest.

“That’s because I mean every word,” he replied, pulling you closer. “And if you ever feel this way again, you just come to me, okay? I’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

That night, as you lay in bed, Hayden pulled you close, wrapping his arms protectively around you. His hand rested gently on your belly, where your baby was nestled safe and sound. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back was calming, grounding you in his love and reassurance.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair. “I love everything about you—your strength, your heart, your laugh, and yes, even the way you’ve been stealing my pillows lately.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your insecurities slowly melting away in the warmth of his embrace. “It’s not stealing if I need them,” you teased, feeling lighter than you had in days.

“Fair point,” he chuckled. “Anything you need, you can have. Always.”

As he continued to hold you, Hayden started humming a soft melody—one you recognized as a song he often played on the piano. The sound wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and full of love. You smiled, closing your eyes, feeling a tiny flutter from your belly as if the baby wanted to join in.

“See?” Hayden whispered, his voice filled with awe. “Even they know how amazing you are.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were tears of gratitude, of love, of feeling completely cherished by the man who was not only your partner but your greatest source of strength.

In that moment, you realized something important: no matter how much your body changed, no matter how many ups and downs you faced during this journey, you had Hayden by your side—your anchor, your cheerleader, and the person who would always remind you just how much you were loved.

As sleep began to take over, you whispered back, “I love you, too. More than anything.”

And with that, surrounded by Hayden’s love and the gentle promise of the life you were building together, you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the beautiful family waiting for you both just around the corner.

THE END

================================================OH MY GODDD AHHH YOU MADE IT TO THE END!

[toxicbrothel]

Hey friend!!!! You know what I'm here for.

PUT THE CARTER IN THE BAG!!!

I kid I kid. I am asking respectfully for some Carter content. I give you full creative freedom! Just seeing my boy in silly scenarios makes me giggle and kick my feet. uh. in a manly way of course!

special blend

Brothel scene 🎬: Carter x Vampire Joel, 1k

Carter finds vampire cozied up by the outdoor fireplace near the pool: wearing a cardigan and reading an old book with his glasses on. "hey, uh, Vampire Joel?" Carter asks

Joel looks up from his book. "It's just Vamp."

"Right, sorry. Mind if I?" Carter looks at other chair, then sits with vamp's permission. The chairs are angled toward each other as well as the fireplace. Good, Carter thinks, won't have to talk too loud. Carter spreads his knees and fidgets with the handwritten fic he's holding as he watches Vamp close his book. Vamp's hands are in good shape for a man of his age. Carter gives him his fic and says, "Appreciate ya doin' this, man."

"Any time," Vamp replies and the sparkle in his eye makes it sound earnest. Carter gives him a little background on the fic. His deep blue eyes light up when he talks about reader, and a forehead vein emerges when he talks about Bad Ideas. Vamp nods thoughtfully, then recaps, "So it's an Alt. Ending, to a non-canon fic that's an AU of an AU?"

"Yeah," Carter confirms, looking down. He smooths his massive hands down his pants and tugs at the knees of his pants as he adjusts his sitting. Pants are never quite long enough for those legs. Doesn't matter, except in this weather.

Vamp adjusts his glasses, then unfolds the fic and his eyes go wide right away. "Okay," he whispers, and adjusts his posture.

"Aw, shoot," Carter realizes. "Forgot the damn warnings."

Vamp waves him off. "You're good."

Vamp starts reading the fic. He raises his eyebrows and bites his lip, then looks up over his glasses and a smile plays on his eyes. "Gonna watch me read it?" He teases Carter.

Carter holds up his massive hands in playful defense, then braces his palms on his knees and stands up. "How 'bout a drink," Carter offers.

Vamp agrees without looking up.

Carter returns with a pint of dark beer for vamp and a bottle of the same for himself. You could be forgiven for thinking it's an 8oz bottle the way his paw cradles it.

They pause to clink their drinks, and when vamp sets down his drink, he holds up the fic and says, "it's, uh," he chuckles. "Jumps right in, huh?"

"Too much?" Carter asks.

Vamp shakes his head nah then clears his throat and immerses himself in the fic again.

Carter looks at the night sky, but in the corner of his eye, can't help but notice vampire Joel adjust himself. Carter blushes from the chest up and tries not to smile.

Vamp puffs his cheeks out an exhale, then mutters "God damn," and takes a big gulp of beer before turning the page over.

Carter feels heat moving to his loins and rests his cool beer bottle there. The bottom of it nudges his balls through his pants.

Vamp finishes the fic and glances at the beer bottle Carter is holding like a dick. Vamp folds the paper back how it was, then hands it back to Carter.

"what'dya think?" Carter asks, eyes searching vamp's face for an honest opinion.

"didn't have to make it that hot," vamp laughs.

"hot? you think so?" Carter asks

"uh. Yeah," Vamp chuckles and a hint of pink creeps up his neck. He scratches the back of his neck "It's nice, too. You kinda protect'em both, her and sweet pea"

"exactly, exactly. Okay good," Carter nods. "Cause i ain't mad at sweet pea." As Carter's nerves fade, he's more aware of his semi.

-

They each take a sip of their drinks, then look at each other in silent recognition.

"Been curious about ya, man," Carter admits.

"yeah?" Vamp holds his pint glass loosely in his hand and gently swirls it once. "Ask away."

Carter thinks. "Shoot I dunno, just, your life, man."

"well gimme somewhere to start," Vamp laughs.

"alright, the ladies," Carter starts.

"just the ladies?" Vamp asks.

Carter stares for a moment, then cracks a smile as he sits back in his seat and takes a sip of beer, not taking his eyes off Vamp. He swallows, then says, "You tell me," firelight flickering over his face.

Vamp relaxes back in his seat and shakes his head. "Before I found my special, didn't know what they were gonna look like, what parts they'd have, didn't care.... The monthly bonus is nice though," he admits.

Carter squints with a smile, "there it is."

Vamp continues, "Special aside, Never been about gender for me. More like a vibe, a feeling, even a....anyway"

"even a what?" Carter asks.

Vamp gets a little embarrassed. "A scent. Like. A beautiful unique fragrance. Somethin' y'all can't really smell."

Carter nods. "Nah, that's cool. Kinda hot."

Vampire raises his eyebrows in a question that doesn't get answered.

"so before reader," Carter moves on, "d'ya get to enjoy a few other smells?"

Vamp chuckles, "more than a few." Sparing Carter another question, he adds, "yeah, men too, women, plenty of'em. Nobody like her though." Vamp's eyes beam.

"That's cool, man," Carter nods. "Never knew who was gonna light up that sniffer, huh?" They both laugh. "Nah, I get it," Carter says, "I get it."

Carter lifts his ass off the seat and tugs the knees of his pants again. Vamp looks at the sliver of ankle skin exposed and his brows furrow.

"what am I, a Victorian lady?" Carter teases.

Vamp shakes his head at himself with a small smile, then offers, "I was just thinkin' maybe you could use some special socks."

"Special socks?"

Vamp holds out his arm. "Feel this," he offers. Carter grabs vamp's bicep, sending a little rush to his chest. Vamp laughs, "the fabric, too."

Carter blushes with a silent laugh and mutters, "whoa," when he realizes the amount of heat bathing his palm. He feels up vamp's strong arm again, hands gliding over the hard curves. He pinches the fabric. "`what is it?" His fingers trail down the sleeve. Vamp's fingers lightly brush Carter's for a moment, and neither of them flinches nor lingers too long.

"special blend," vamp answers, and hugs his cardigan around himself

"no shit," Carter nods.

They sit in silence for a while. When they stand up, vamp gestures toward Carter's pants, then Carter realizes he's looking at the piece of paper. Vamp says, "hey, get me a copy of that, will ya? Your other stuff too."

Carter runs his hand through his hair. "really?"

"yeah," Vamp nods. "I'll get ya those socks."

-------

--++++

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Perfect 10 Liners time! Ok, Yotha, you got some crow to eat, be good to our boy.

Oh, Yotha's meter is full on broken.

Which does fit with how he is with Gun, he feels a pull, but doesn't know how to really handle it. And his kisses up to this point have felt very "do behavior A to get response B" rather than any actual desire.

Obligatory beach splashing time! Pretty sure it's law by now.

Ha, of course Fai has been leaving the door unlocked on purpose. That's a good man, because if I had people snuggling in the bed next to me every night, I would be hella annoyed.

I love that we are getting to see more Fai and Wine interactions ahead of their romance!

Part of why I didn't immediately warm to Faifa was the intensity of how he came after Wine, but now I want to go back and rewatch with the recontextualization of the new scenes. It's getting sweeter by the second.

Lol, I would so be Wine here, just like "aaaah, cute older guy is talking to me, brain no longer functioning".

Oh, they are sparking so beautifully!

I love that we get Tay just randomly popping in on occasion to be the wise sage of the group.

I'm assuming his move to Nan is going to be relevant to the FaiWine story. New location for frolics?

My theory about Arm getting drunk in every episode for the entertainment of the writers is holding up.

Oh, that is so pretty.

Now I want to be at the beach.

Oh good, we're talking about the kiss.

All that and Yotha still didn't say, "I kissed him to confirm I don't feel anything anymore"? Dude, that's the most essential piece.

Hmm, this doesn't feel super romantic to me? Maybe because I've seen what waiting around for someone can be like in real life, and most of the time it sucks.

Like I get that Gun is a very sweet, loving, kind man, but I need him to be more selfish.

Yes, perfect!

Hold those boundaries baby. He doesn't get everything when he wants you to wait.

Hmm, also with the bracelet - it just feels like Yotha wants them to be boyfriends without calling it boyfriends.

Again, not mad about any of this stuff, it all fits their characters, but it just doesn't feel romantic to me.

Ha, love the friend interactions, as always.

Wow, Yotha really be walking through the halls in those pajamas, that is an impressive level of dedication.

Gah, I just - of course Gun would be sad! I feel like there's still a lack of real honest communication here.

Fai is a whole mood, I am 100% on your side bro.

Aww, Fai getting all the birthday love is cute. And deserved!

Oh for crying out loud, Yotha, you are so in love!

Seriously, all the brothers need some therapy. Please, someone just mention the word.

Lol, Gun is not fooling his mother in the least.

Yotha doesn't want to do what Wa did, but he's still setting Gun up for hurt all the same. Not being willing to call him your boyfriend or call it love doesn't change the reality, and it would hurt just as much for things to end.

Goddamit Yotha! I was giving you grace last week, but you are straight up ticking me off now.

I know we just did this plotline with ArcArm, but I need some hottie to come flirt with Gun. Boy needs to feel desired.

This is such a sweet friend group.

I love when we get to see men taking care of one another.

Oh Fai. Always sacrificing himself.

Gun deserves so much better than this.

I mean, yes, Yotha is not wrong to say he needs time, but the hot and cold is what's super hurtful. One minute he's playing boyfriends, then he can't even smile at Gun. He's so hung up on some projection of what love is supposed to be, rather than paying attention to all the ways he genuinely does love Gun.

Yotha, you are making me want this to happen for Gun.

It's not that I don't feel for Yotha, or his struggles. I think I've just seen too many real life friends being hurt by a partner who knows they have issues, but refuses to get help or work through them in order to stop causing their partner pain. And it's really shitty.

Yes, Gun! He can take his time, but you also get to set boundaries.

Waaah, stop making my AouBoom smokers.

God I love my boys.

They are very clearly "we may be side characters in this show, but we're still gonna prove why we're the number one in physical intimacy at GMMTV".

Goddamn, Aou, how much have you been working out?!

Lifting someone your own size is freaking hard!

Ok, can our BL boys just stop ever crossing the street?

They are a very pretty couple.

Hmm, this was an interesting one. I think Yotha is just bumping up against reality a little too much for me here, which is not the fault of the show.

But at least it looks like next week Yotha may finally get his shit together!

[thenoellebird]

((Howwwww do you think I felt seeing 'Oh cool! That author who throat punched me responded? Why is there a lecture on inc-OHHHHHHHH I HAVE ERRORED GREATLY. Also chapter 7 was another good one and I am nervous Stan is about to have a new scar on his left shoulder opposite the one he got from his fight 30 years ago. The guilt/frustration and the idea that 'whenever I see my brother and we fight/argue I get a new super scar' is throwing some ideas at me. I like how the kids are responding, Mable seeking reassurance and even though Dipper is still mad, but also trying to move towards normalacy (I think that's what it looks like to me) so he is acting like he normally would. I will say Stan getting cared/babied y Ford is such a funny concept because he should like it but it's not a pleasent time.))

Sequel 👁️👁️ ?? I await to see how I can read another one of your works and then go back to work as if I hadn't just had my heart stomped. The loony bin idea came from Dipper & Mabels guide to non stop fun where Stan says the Ink blots remind him of his loony days. It's on page 146 in a throwaway line bUT THE PLOT IS STILL THERE!!! Especially since we know he did a lot of unsavory/traumatizing stuff during his drifter days. (If you get a chance to see the cut line where Stan was supposed to say he wouldn't have survived the summer when he was pleading to dipper during not what he seems. My guy really is not defeating the depression ideas at all.)

(don't worry about it, mistakes happen to the best of us. I'm just glad that it wAS a mistake and that my stuff ISN'T associated with...all that crap.)

Stan is going to have a lot of scars ALL over his arms. (A HC that I have is he had a bunch of minor ones that we don't see in the show because when have ever seen that one scar on the inside of his arm besides Roadside Attraction--point it out to me in other episodes if y'all can see it--either it's a continuity thing that didn't matter or it was to illustrate that we can't see Stan's scars) Though his shoulder might be worse than everywhere else.

I looked up the thing about the "loony bin" that you talked about and OMGOSH the theories are insane. I actually freaking love this idea and am now thinking of adding at least another extra chapter in my fic for stan and ford to have some very important conversations about each other.

I don't think we can cover everything I want to do just in chapters 8 and 9...we might have a chapter 10 we'll see. I know how the fic ends, and I know how the next one begins, and it's kind of nice how they fit together. I don't want them to be the same because like u can start the new fic yk without reading the old one even though the context makes it better and stuffs.

Stan doesn't think he deserves babying, even though he secretly wants it more than anything. He wants to let himself be cared for, but he's always too scared that it's too good to be true and he thinks that once people figure out how bad he is they'll leave him. He knows Ford left him once, and so while he's anxious to cling to Ford, he also feels like Ford might want to leave again since Stan is "worthless" and since he loves his brother, he'd respect that even if he didn't like it, because in his eyes, Ford is worth more than the world.

As for Stan himself, yes he is very depresso. He needs LUUUUV. so while I want to like have his trauma detailed and stuff, I also want to give him the world and a few more hardships because that keeps life interesting. For us, not for him. He'd rather be happy. And he will be happy, but nobody is happy all the time.

Actually, I started writing this before I found out about the cut line (that just confirmed everything that I thought) and I was actually like "oh my gosh I kind of wish they'd've kept some version of this" type deal yk? super cool though.

I actually want to include Stan and Ford talking through some of Stan's trauma from the drifter days, and also Ford's trauma from the portal. Most of that will probably come in my second fic, though.

I also have a reverse portal AU fic that I'm slowly working on (bringing to liiiife) and it seems really good so far. I'll probably end up posting it at some point.

Anyways, here's a picture tease for the start of chapter 8

I realized I drew it the wrong way so I had to manually mirror it by editing my photo. It's kind of funny...I didn't want to redraw it but I realized too late XD

Hope y'all enjoy. And thank you for the info (hehe and the ideas)

[sodaf]

if we're going to be so real. the source of 90% of my problems is that i get horrifically jealous and I have bpd. but the cool thing is i can also invent reasons to stay upset even if it's only one person upsetting me and he hasn't even interacted with me in a way that would be valid for me to get upset at because i come up with problems that feel worse than they are in reality and in response I stay up until 3am and start spiraling

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[chiropteracupola]

historically accurate trip to clifton's cafeteria!!!

[progress shots under the readmore]

[soap-is-an-artist]

Hooray... it's 7 in the morning and I stayed up all night listening to the imperium... I feel so happy and satisfied with my life choices...

I am feeling very much not cowabunga, dude

[SEVERE rambling in tags]

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Shout out to the guy who read:

"I keep trying to warn you where this will lead.

It isn't about what I want or what I think should happen, I'm not endorsing anything, let's be clear, it's about what will happen, really, it's about human nature.

This isn't about what's moral, or what's reasonable, or what you think you can stoke a divisive culture war against, it isn't about my opinion, I did not invent the nature of need, it's about what people have always done when faced with no good options, guns in their hands and staring up at the people sentencing them to suffering and death."

Interpreted it as me saying "gun violence is the appropriate solution" and then threatened me with gun violence for saying it was the solution...

And then deleted his reblog when I pointed out his lack of reading comprehension and blocked him.

Leave alone that he is exactly the kind of disillusioned right wing supporting gun toting reactionary who I was trying to point out will be the ones actually enacting the gun violence [not so much the staunch leftists who believe in the value of human life]... As has actually already been proven at least 3 times now.

I'd like to remind him that I do report people for threats of physical violence and for harassment.

And I'd like to recommend stepping away from the internet and having a nice hot bath or something every time he feels the need to try to make a nasty comment... Before he makes an ass of himself again.

I'd also like to reiterate that I am not endorsing gun violence, I am merely pointing out that this will continue to happen if we stay on this trajectory, and you can't reasonably expect another outcome.

Look at history's example.

You are fucking so deeply with human rights and everyone being able to meet their basic needs that the angry incels who used to be taking aim at women and students, are the exact group who are now looking angrily up at billionaires and politicians, having finally seen who they should be mad at [not an endorsement of them seeing gun violence as the solution], and wow I bet THEY -the largely rich white men who are 'calling the shots'- don't like it when the guns are being aimed at them instead of the women and children they can usually scapegoat...

Maybe try not to literally threaten to shoot the messenger?

I mean, I can also predict that suddenly gun reform will start to seem okay or be dropped as a main talking point by the political right once enough billionaires, CEOs, and politicians are shot/shot at... That's just me pointing out what's a near inevitability... Not me exerting some power to try to make it happen. [I have none]

I'm not the one with the gun, and I'm not the one stripping people of their basic human rights or denying their needs for survival. I have no power to tell people what to do and I have about as much influence as your average tumblr shit-poster at best. That is in fact the MOST power I have in any facet of my life. I'm just telling you what I see happening. If you think lashing out at me solves anything, you are misdirecting that energy, buddy.

[canidbutch]

it happened so early in the morning and i am STILL frothing with rage over this text my boss sent me

[throwaway-settings]

biting. biting. biting.

[flippedorbit]

i’m gonna be so for real, if things don’t start changing for me in good ways i will be disappearing off the face of the earth

[inkats]

is it autism or is it a symptom of previous longterm social isolation and lack of agency ?