#i am unable. to not be angry all the time

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 30

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,855ish

Summary: You and Logan still struggle with your relationship. The two of you make a decision to help ease the struggles.

Warnings: Emotional, Angst, Injuries

Notes: crossing my fingers that you guys will be okay with this chapter...

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

“So, how are you and Logan doing?” Ororo asked one morning at breakfast.

“Fine,” you responded with a shrug. “We have a lot of work to do, but we’re working through it.”

“He does seem a little more on edge around the kids, as do you.”

You sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking… I think Logan and I should go away for a while.”

“Wait, you two want to leave?”

“I haven’t brought it up to Logan yet, and it wouldn’t be forever… we just need a space where we can focus on just the two of us. We’re constantly thrown every which way with classes, missions, and world-ending scenarios. Logan and I need to simply be us for a while and figure out what that means.”

“I… do whatever you have to do.” Ororo stood up. “I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Ororo, please stay and talk.” 

But she slipped out of the room. You sighed, hiding your head in your hands. That was the position Logan found you in. He quietly came up behind you and rested your hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered against your neck.

You leaned back into him, looking up at him. “I made Ororo upset.”

“What did you do?” You sighed, looking back down. “Hey.” He sat down beside you. “I thought we were doing better with the talking shit.” He hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face to look at him. “Tell me.”

“I told Ororo about something I was going to talk to you about.”

“And that was…?”

“About leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“I was thinking that we need some time to ourselves. To figure things out and just be us.”

“But this is your home. Would you really be okay leaving it?”

“Logan, you’re my home. And you were long before this was.”

Logan studied your gaze and could see that you were telling the truth, but he worried that after a while, he wouldn’t be enough. You at least had people here, other mutants, to lean on when the two of you were struggling. If it’s just you and him? Then you’d have no one. Logan was okay with that for himself but not for you.

“I thought that we’ve been doing well here,” Logan said, trying to see if he could get you to change your mind. 

His words took you back. “You want to stay? You’re constantly trying to run.”

“I just want you to really think about it, sweetheart. I don’t want you to leave and then regret it.”

“You think that I’d regret being with you?”

“That’s not what I said—“

You pulled away, standing up. “But it’s what you meant, right?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stood up as well, growing angry. 

“Do you not want this long-term, Logan? Am I just your person until a new, better one comes along?”

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Morning! Oh—“ Bobby stopped in the doorway. “I can see that this is not a good time, so I—“

“No, Bobby, we’re done here,” you told him, rushing off.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled after you, hurrying to follow you. He followed you into the gardens. “Now, who’s running?!”

“Oh, please,” you spun around. “You’ve wanted to run since the moment you got here!”

“Yes, but I stayed for you!”

“Oh, I feel so honored.”

“You know what, maybe I should go. Since it’s clear that I’m unable to hit the high expectations you have set for me.”

“You are the reason for those high expectations.”

“Ugh! I’m not that person anymore! And I’m sick and tired of feeling like shit all the time about that!”

Logan’s hand flew out as he was talking, his claws accidentally unsheathing. Before either of you knew it, the claws were cutting against your cheek. You gasped, stumbling back as your hand came up to hold your cheek.

“Oh my God,” he sputtered. He hid his claws before reaching for you. “Sweetheart—“ You stepped back, breaking both of your hearts. Logan’s fingers were tingling. If you didn’t let him try to fix this—if you didn’t let him touch you, Logan would never trust himself to touch someone again. “Please let me—“

“No,” you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “Just… leave me alone.”

You rushed off back into the mansion. You knew that Logan didn’t mean to hurt you, but you needed time and space. 

Logan was frozen in his spot. The high emotions had gotten the best of both of you, but especially his claws. He had hurt you, and he was fully conscious for it. This was different than him having a nightmare. This was much worse.

~~~

You had sat in front of the mirror, watching the three cuts along your cheek heal into scars. Tears streamed down your face the entire time while you thought of Logan. Both of you were in the wrong here, and this was a complete accident. You were thinking about what to say to Logan when you started to hear drawers slamming in Logan’s room. Rushing out of your room, you looked into his room to see him stuffing his clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

Logan spun to face you. Slowly, his hand reached out to brush against the scars on your cheek, but he didn’t let his hand actually make contact.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice was completely broken, tears lining his eyes. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you… yet I keep doing it.” He shook his head and got back to packing. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t be the person you need… The person I was before…”

“And this will make it better? I’ve messed up in this relationship, too. This is not just on you. I’m sorry for making it seem like I’m forcing you to be that person again. I know that you’ve changed, so I have, and that’s okay. I still love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Stop that.” You slipped in between him and the dresser. He kept his head down, not willing to make eye contact. “Fine. Tell me you don't love me, and I’ll let you walk away. But you have to look me in the eye and be honest with me.”

You nibbled your bottom lip as you waited for Logan to make the next move. You could tell that there was a war waging in his mind. His eyes suddenly snapped to yours.

“I… I can’t do that,” he murmured. “I love you.”

You quickly pulled him by his shirt to kiss him. He dropped his bag and slid his hands to the small of your back.

“If you really want to leave,” you whispered against his lips, “then you have to take me with you.”

“Okay,” he replied. 

~~~

“It’s not forever,” you said as you hugged Ororo. “We’ll stay in contact and visit. Logan and I just need to figure things out.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ororo responded, pulling back. “I’ll miss the both of you.”

“You ready?” Logan asked, coming up from the truck he had just packed. 

He had already said goodbye to Marie and Bobby before packing the truck, knowing that you would need some time with Ororo.

“I think so,” you responded. “See you later, Ororo.”

“See you,” she replied.

You took Logan’s hand, and he led you to the truck. He opened the door and helped you in before going around to the driver’s seat. You turned back and watched as the mansion grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Logan placed a hand on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly concerned. “We can turn back around.”

You laced your fingers through his and scooted closer to Logan, very thankful for the bench seat. “I’m okay,” you told him. You kissed his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”

“I have a place in mind.”

“Care to tell?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you get some rest?”

“You sure?”

He leaned over and kissed your head. “I’m sure.”

You hummed in content as you rested your head on his shoulder and let yourself relax. Logan’s lifted up in a barely-there smile as you tried your best to cuddle into him. 

~~~

You didn’t bother to ask Logan where the two of you were headed again. You kept yourself occupied with books and naps when you weren’t talking to Logan. It was already proving to be worth it, as the farther the two of you drove from the mansion, the less tension there was. Logan insisted on driving the whole way, and so far you’ve had to beg him to stop to sleep in motels for the three nights you’ve been on the road so far.

It didn’t shock you when the two of you crossed over into Canada. You figured that Logan would always feel a call back there. The shock factor was later as the two of you drove up an old, familiar road in the Canadian Rockies.

“Logan, where—“

“Just patience, okay?” He cut you off. “I’ll explain soon.”

You simply nodded, focusing on the trees you were passing out the window. Your heart started pounding the closer you got to the top. Before you knew it, the small house appeared and Logan was pulling up to it. It looked just how you remembered it. You were too busy staring that you didn’t realize Logan had gotten out of the truck and walked around to your side. He opened the door and took your hand.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging you out of the truck. “Let’s go inside.”

“Inside?” You repeated. “It’s probably a disaster. We—“ Your eyes widened as Logan pulled you inside. The place was clean, updated, and furnished. “What? How?”

“Charles. We had a conversation about when Jean died, and I got part of my memories back. He knew that we would need a place to start over and found where we used to live. Before I could stop it, he had people here fixing it up.”

You let go of his hand and began slowly walking around the house. Your hands gently trailed against the walls and updated pieces of furniture. 

“You and Charles…” you breathed out. “You did all this?”

“Is it okay?” Logan was clearly nervous. “We can go somewhere else. I just know that this was the—“ You shut him up with a kiss.

“This is perfect. Thank you. But know that I don't expect you to be the same person as before. Time has changed both of us… are you okay with being here?”

“Yes. I even already got a job as a lumberjack.”

“Oh, got the old job back?”

Logan chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. I start in a week.”

“So I have a week of you all to myself?”

“A whole week.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Can we try out the new bed?”

A devious smirk formed over Logan’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[yuriskies]

The Inviting Hot Springs

"Too bad the evil mannequins robbed us of the big gay scene" - Mangadex commenter, on Otherside Picnic

I am going to start off with a wild claim here. File 14 (The Inviting Hot Springs) features a drunken romantic moment between Sorawo and Toriko in the onsen which is interrupted by the Otherside at the worst possible moment. They get chased by mannequins. Here's the wild claim: that mannequin chase *is* the big gay scene. It says more about Sorawo and the specialness of her relationship with Toriko than anything they said while giddily flirting in the onsen. This might simply be the stirrings of yuri lit brain, but let me explain (and hopefully acquit) myself here.

Early on in File 14, Sorawo poses a question to Kozakura: "Why is the Otherside targeting me?" The conversation drifts around to Kozakura theorizing that the Otherside is a mirror to one's attachments, and as an example, points out Sorawo's jealous anger towards Satsuki might have been the trigger for the Otherside to manifest her. "Anger is a form of continuous attachment," Kozakura tells her, before suggesting that Sorawo work on processing her past instead of trying to forget it.

Keep in mind, this is Kozakura theorizing, and there's no guarantee that she's correct. But using that theory as a framework, you begin to see a pattern to some of Sorawo's contact with the Otherside. Hasshaku-sama appears when Sorawo begins getting angry about Toriko's fixation on Satsuki. Sorawo gets drawn into the interstitial space while nervously considering how to reconcile after arguing with Toriko. Her ability to recognize her own body is destroyed by the Yamanoke, shortly after talking about her history with the cult and Toriko providing her a sense of belonging. The ghosts of her dad and grandma swoop in to tell her she's a destructive force, right after reaffirming her desire to be together with Toriko. You get the idea.

Desire is a form of continuous attachment.

Trauma is a form of continuous attachment.

The Otherside appears when Sorawo is confronted by emotions she is unable to process. She does not understand intimacy, because her family denied her the ability form intimate bonds. She does not understand how her past shapes how she reacts in the present, because she dissociates from/intentionally tries to forget it. The Otherside is brought close by Sorawo's terror of desire and intimacy, and the way it distorts reality is shaped by the landmines of her past trauma.

So circling back around to the mannequins- it's not surprising they appear the moment Toriko presents Sorawo with the idea of sexual desire being an aspect of their relationship. It is a splash of cold water, and immediately Sorawo is forced to think about both desire and trauma.

Sorawo's anger at Toriko's "cute boobs" comment is driven mostly her feeling of being *targeted* by Toriko's desire, with a lesser bit of jealousy at Toriko doing openly what she herself had desired to do to Toriko. I think it also touches on Sorawo's trauma and past victimization, because she immediately frames Toriko as an unwanted aggressor - she immediately loses all sense of her own agency, and instead begins imagining *how* Toriko was planning to have her way with her.

The choice of a mannequin has a couple of symbolic meanings. The first is in its function - a mannequin's primary reason for existence is aesthetics. It exists to show off what its user wants shown off. A mannequin functions as a reflection of Sorawo's intense shame at being ogled, Toriko is functionally looking at her as a frame on which a cute pair of boobs is being displayed.

The second symbolic reading is in how it contrasts Toriko from "everyone else". A mannequin is a generic, abstract human form, and the level of attention Sorawo usually pays to others would suggest they don't register as much more than mannequins. (The time-saving technique of drawing generic faceless crowds in the manga, intentionally or unintentionally, adds to this reading.) Toriko is "different", lifelike. Sorawo's familiarity provides an intimacy of detail the mannequins lack, and Toriko exists as something more than a series of snapshot-like rigid poses. Toriko occupies vastly more territory in Sorawo's brain than anyone else, and the mannequins reflect it.

The "big bad" is a male mannequin holding his arms up in a W-shape and dressed in a sweatshirt and brimmed hat. He chases the two. I would not be surprised if those details were trauma-related - the arm pose strikes me as a worship posture, and given Sorawo's history of living on the run from the cult, it probably reflects those experiences.

The way Sorawo and Toriko escape from the mannequins adds another layer to symbolism to the scene. The two encounter a party of male mannequins seated around a TV with a screen glowing Otherside Blue. The setting reflects people passively absorbing culture, they look but cannot interact. In contrast, interaction with screen culture is how Sorawo found an escape from family abuse - she did not passively read creepypasta threads, but participated in discussions, hunted them in person, and eventually met Toriko on the Otherside because of them. The screen is the gateway to the next stage of Sorawo's life. Escaping through it together is a reaffirmation of her bond with Toriko and the Otherside's role as connective tissue in their relationship.

So I'll fess up to perjuring myself at the start. The mannequins aren't really the big gay scene, Sorawo and Toriko having a drunk flirt is too adorable to assign that label to anything else in the chapter. But the mannequin chase *is* doing serious lifting with regards to Sorawo and her relationship with Toriko. It reinforces the specialness of their bond while hinting at deep-seated issues with intimacy. The mannequin scene didn't rob us of anything, it complemented what had already occurred.

(P.S. I also doubt it is a coincidence they woke up in bed beside Kozakura. She wants to be their anchor to the surface world, after all)

[crimsonwolf715]

It's Not Your Fault

Jason’s been sitting in the therapist’s office for a while now, mostly silent as she asks him questions he gives one or two word answers to. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened?” the therapist asks, clearly trying to get Jason to interact with her. 

“Why should I?” Jason asks, keeping his eyes on his hands. 

“Because maybe if you talk about it, it will help you process through your grief. If you’re unable to talk about it we can start with something else.” 

Jason sighs. “It started out as a mission, barely a mission. The police needed assistance clearing out a building, so Red and I went. They were clearing out the building because due to some explosion that had happened next door a little earlier in the day, they found that it wasn’t likely the foundation of the building would hold. A bunch of debris fell on Red. He didn’t make it home.” 

“And how does that make you feel?” 

“Angry,” Jason answers. 

“Anything else?” she presses.

Jason shakes his head. “Nope.” 

“It’s natural to feel angry, but do you think there’s something stopping you from feeling anything else?” 

“Yeah, the anger.” Jason looks at his watch. “But would you look at that? Time’s up, so I’m gonna head home.” 

“We’re not done talking about this.” 

“I am. I’ve got other things to do today.” 

Jason gets up and grabs his bag, then heads out of the therapist’s office without another word. 

Jason heads up to the top floor to search for anybody else. When he doesn’t find anybody, he heads down to find Tim. Jason hears a crack, then the floor starts fracturing. 

“What floor are you on?” Jason asks. 

“I don’t know, eighth floor?” Tim answers. 

Dread fills Jason knowing that’s the floor right below him. 

“Get to the stairs, now. The floor above you is going to cave in.” 

“On my way.” 

Jason races down the stairs and he hears the floor give out on his way down. He gets to the next floor and doesn’t see Tim at the stairs. He runs onto the floor and Tim’s buried under debris. 

“Tim,” he breathes, then runs over. 

Jason removes debris and Tim’s not moving. Once enough debris is moved, Jason pulls Tim over to the stable side of the building. Tim’s eyes are half-open and he coughs up blood onto himself and Jason. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” 

He gently picks Tim up and gets him out of the building. Once they’re out of the building, Jason gently puts Tim down to check for injuries. Tim’s wheezing. 

“Medical’s on their way,” Jason says. “Just a little longer.” 

“I can’t,” Tim says. 

The words feel like a bucket of ice water being dumped on Jason’s head. 

“That’s okay, it’s not your fault.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tim says, his voice breaking. 

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry. You’ve done such a good job. You can rest now.” 

Tim gives Jason a small smile, then closes his eyes. Jason holds his brother close until he stops breathing. 

Jason gets home and heads straight for his room. 

“Jason!” 

It’s Dick, and Jason can hear footsteps behind him meaning that Dick’s following him. 

“Can you leave me alone?” Jason asks. 

“That’s all I’ve been doing for a month. I’ve tried being accommodating but you keep pushing me away.” 

“Maybe that’s because I don’t want anyone’s attention.” 

Jason slams his door shut behind him and he can almost hear Dick’s thoughts of knocking on Jason’s door. He doesn’t end up doing it and Jason can hear him head towards Damian’s room down the hall. Jason spends the rest of the day locked in his room reading the books Tim wrote in his little amount of free time before taking over WE or laying on his bed, occasionally throwing darts. 

It’s well after ten o’clock when he takes stock of the time and decides he should probably get something to drink. Jason walks downstairs and finds nobody. He sighs and heads to the kitchen. Not that he exactly wanted to run into anybody, but he was hoping that maybe he’d wanna talk if he did. He contemplates breaking into the liquor cabinet, but decides to just drown his sorrows in orange juice instead. He walks into the living room and Bruce is standing there. He must have just come up from the Batcave. 

Jason turns to leave when Bruce’s voice stops him. “Jason.” 

“Dickie tattle on me?” 

“No, what happened with you and Dick?” 

Jason turns back towards Bruce. “Nothing.” 

“Can we talk for a minute?” Bruce asks. 

“Why not? I don’t have anything better to do,” Jason answers. 

Jason stands behind the couch while Bruce stays standing over by the bookshelf. 

“Everyone’s worried,” Bruce says. 

“Of course everyone’s worried,” Jason replies, cutting Bruce off. “Nobody knows how to mind their own business in this family aside from Damian.” 

“Everyone’s worried because this isn’t healthy,” Bruce continues, clearly ignoring Jason’s jab at him. “Nobody wants you to keep living like this.” 

“How am I supposed to live with the fact that he’s dead?” Jason shouts. “All I feel is rage! The sadness was gone within a day and all I can feel is this rage that makes me want to go out and start killing every psychotic or psychopathic person in this city!” 

“I understand that,” Bruce starts, but Jason cuts him off. 

“How could you? You didn’t kill anyone!” Jason shouts, throwing the book that was on the table at Bruce. 

Bruce moves just enough that he doesn’t get hit by the book, but he keeps his eyes on Jason. Jason’s breathing heavily, trying not to cry, his temper starting to evaporate. Bruce walks over and wraps his arms around Jason. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” Bruce says quietly. “It’s okay to be upset and angry, but it isn’t your fault that this happened. And I promise I’ll be here for you.” 

Jason starts crying and buries his head in Bruce’s shoulder, sadness replacing the anger in an instant. Bruce rubs his back while he cries, the two of them staying in that position until Jason runs out of tears. 

“Come on, let’s get you some water and then head to bed. It’s late and you obviously haven’t slept much lately. If you can’t sleep, we can talk.” 

Jason nods. “I’m sorry I threw that book at you, Dad.” 

“There’s no need to be sorry. I know you didn’t mean it.” 

They head upstairs and Jason asks, “Can you come sit with me for a bit?” 

Bruce nods, so they go sit on Jason’s bed. Jason talks about Tim for a bit, trying not to cry again, then falls asleep leaning against Bruce.

[orsanedraws]

some days you just wake up in the morning and cry out of exhaustion because fucking russians stole a good night's sleep from you again and everything in your body hurts

[sadkachow]

if i hear one more pro-ai take i fear i may start exploding people with my brain

[bunnihearted]

🤧🐀🌧️🌊

[tortademaracuya]

I feel like a thief

[ironmanstan]

Looks at my ocs and remembers with mild horror and mild amusement the contexts in which they were made

[dragonfyre-creations]

I don't think I've ever poured so many of my physical attributes and so much of my heart and soul into a character design before in such a personal way before so fuck it whenever I finish the final design for Faeng and whatever I come up with I'm making her into my sona (dragonsona? Persona? Idk how this works lmfao)

(long dump in the tags and under the cut)

The last time I was even remotely connected this much to a character was when I designed Jaxsu, but honestly never truly made her my sona/main character, she was just the one I used most often in art pieces. I never really actually liked her lore and backstory enough because she was what I wanted to be instead of what I am/was. Jax isnt perfect either, but her parents love her and otherwise has friends and is loved unconditionally. She has a healthy relationship with everyone and everything. This is where the disconnect happened and where I actually started to dislike her despite her being my otherwise favorite character for awhile. Both Faeng and Jaxsu have ADHD and Autism but Jaxsu was able to put that towards a job and becoming a ship captain and winning a colosseum tournament. She's done all of these great things so even if she didn't have a healthy relationship with her parents they'd still love her because she's done something impressive and useful.

Faeng on the other hand, has to fight for everything. Her parents are important and have important jobs, and place all of these unreachable and unrealistic expectations on her and expect her to reach them with minimal effort and be perfect, but she can't no matter how hard she tries. She needs someone to explain it and break it down for her in steps so she understands what do to and how to do it so she doesn't mess it up. She's both strong and smart but it's not in practical "normal" ways or subjects. It's convoluted, It's not in the ways everyone wants her to be, she has no teachers to help her understand how to channel that strength and intelligence into something "useful" so she puts it towards the things she likes and wants to do, and thus struggles in a world that would otherwise be easy to navigate and conquer if she were "normal". Those that do understand her and try to help her are alienated by other people in an attempt to either punish both of them or force her to adapt to be somewhat passing as normal, if not then at least listen to what she's told to do. She does eventually make acquaintances but find that her twisted speech and weird explanations aren't worth trying to decipher and understand so they leave, they don't put in the effort to meet her halfway even though she's struggling and doing her best to speak in a way they'll understand.

Her parents acknowledge her differences but in a way that frames it as flawed and wrong, something that needs to be corrected, and push her to figure out her problems by herself, tearing down any support network she tries to build. She tries her damned hardest but it's not enough, it never is and never will be for them because she's not the perfect child they wanted. She showed promise in her younger years being a "gifted child" so she knows what love and acceptance lies in wait and what could be if she could just be normal and perfect. Her achievements and promise come and show in waves. She burns and fizzles out in one of the most virulent, painful ways possible after getting hurt trying to prove her worth yet again. She holds nothing but criticism, vitriol and contempt for herself because she can't claw her way back to where she was before, this time something happened and something is terribly, horribly wrong this time but she doesn't know that it is and can't figure it out, nor will anyone tell her. Whatever it is, left a mental and several physical injuries and it does nothing but deepen her self hatred and her parent's waning belief in her. She listens to false promises and praise of other people who do nothing but wish to manipulate and harm her but she stays because any form of praise is deemed good, she hungers for more and does worsening things.

She ignores the people who tell her that what she's doing is dangerous and will only end in disaster, because she doesn't believe them. If the people who are saying they're her friends are telling her that the people she hurts deserve it and that what she's doing is good, then surely she needs to believe them over strangers, right? Everything comes to a breaking point and shatters around her leaving her with quite literally nothing but her own self hatred, newfound rage and overbearing mental issues she needs to navigate once again to find out what hell it is and what's wrong with her now. She's scared of everyone and everything with the added bonus of now being hyper-aware and perceptive of people's mannerisms and behaviors, especially those who want to manipulate or harm her again. She wraps every vulnerable part of herself in metaphorical thorns and teeth to bite and maim whoever pries and digs into what she truly is, even people who want to understand her. She suffers at more than her own hand, forcing herself to deal with everything alone, until she finally meets someone that could be considered a true friend. She slowly opens up and helps them as much as they help her before everything comes crashing back down once again upon the reveal that they've been lying to her the entire time about very serious issues, and she's been used as nothing more than an attack dog once again. She burns every bridge and everyone around her in one final breakdown of rage before shutting down completely. One of the groups of friends she's shoved stay comes back and asks if she's ok. She doesn't understand why they're being kind, why they're concerned it why they care and tries to shove them away again. Every single day they still ask, talking even if there's no response from her, until she finally relents and breaks.

She's finally loved and accepted despite every fault and every flaw she has, and every time she tries to pull away out of fear of being an inconvenience they pull back twice as hard and remind her that she's able to just exist, she doesn't need to constantly be useful and that they care. She finally, finally is comfortable enough to let herself be accepted and then becomes the most clingy little shit, just as they do with her. But yeah, my own life has been very much of the same, especially the last part. Every time I go on another self-hatred spiral and drop off the face of the earth my MonHun bros give me a metaphorical slap to the face and remind me that I don't need to constantly prove my worth to everyone and prove that I'm useful, and that existing every once in awhile is more than enough. If that doesn't work then it's "you need to get your ass back over here because we're failing the Safi siege without the absolutely ridiculous amount of DPS your build Switchaxe does". I was not intending for her to be so much like me but goddamnit she's wormed her way into being my favorite now and I guess Mirage is no longer my impromptu sona

[soshinysochrome]

Pre-cut fruit/veggies as an accommodation

I'm going to go on a rant that's been building up for a long time but needs to be said.

I just watched a video from How To ADHD where they finally articulated what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time; that buying pre-cut fruit and veggies is an accommodation.

Because holy shit, do people get angry at people who buy things pre-cut, like it's some kind of moral failing deserving of the vitriol and abuse that it gets. And it always comes complete with people smugly declaring that they take the time to cut their fruit and veg themselves, like somehow that makes them better than people who don't.

Lets get something absolutely clear.

Yes, we know it would be cheaper to buy produce and cut it up ourselves. Yes, we know that the added packaging is more wasteful. And we know that other people are judging us for it.

But here's the thing, starting with the fact that "taking the easy way" is not a moral failing:

Pre-cut produce is an accommodation.

I have ADHD, depression and seasonal affective disorder (seasonal depression). One of these by themselves makes taking care of myself difficult enough, but very rarely am I battling just one of these conditions at a time. And when it comes to cooking or preparing food, my options are very often either to spend a bit more to buy pre-cut fruit or veg, or not eat fruit/veg at all. Because if I buy produce I have to prep myself, at least one of three things will happen: 1) I'm going to forget it exists until it starts to make the fridge stink and it has to be thrown away. 2) I'm going to see it every time I open the fridge, feel bad that I can't bring myself to prepare it, worsening my executive dysfunction and depression, and making it even less likely I ever will prepare it. 3) I'm going to buy it, put it in my fridge, remember that it's there and beat myself up until it expires for being unable to bring myself to prepare it.

When people rail against those who buy pre-cut, what those of us who rely on it hear is that you don't think we deserve to eat healthily because we can't do it ourselves. Which sounds about as absurd as telling someone with glasses that they don't deserve to wear those glasses because they can't see without them.

Rant over. Leave people who buy pre-cut alone.

[priceprime]

I think we're just kids.

Kids who were thrown to the wolves

Kids still trying to raise themselves as adults.

And we are bleeding

And we are angry

And we are still alone,

Just together this time.

[balletfilmss]

LOVERS LAKE

✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader

✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!

✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him

✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈

the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.

that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.

that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.

between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?

so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.

you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.

was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.

pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.

and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.

the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.

“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.

“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.

“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.

you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.

“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.

look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.

“oh my gods, i am going to die.”

you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.

“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.

“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.

“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”

the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.

“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.

“wha- no. no no no no!”

luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.

“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.

there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.

“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.

“hey.”

between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.

this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.

“hey. hey. hey.”

he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.

“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.

once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.

“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”

feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.

immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.

when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.

“am i forgiven now?”

he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.

[luvsupa]

ceo!gojo hires you as his new secretary, thrilled by the impression you made during your interview.

ceo!gojo who abandons his important paperwork and flirts with you every day when you’re trying to do your job.

“let’s go get lunch. i’m bored,” gojo purrs, leaning over your desk as you’re on the phone, planning his business meeting.

“sir, i’m kinda doing my job right now…” you politely decline his offer. he pouts, but you shift your attention back to the call. he doesn’t move, growing irritated, and leans over to end the call, cutting you off mid conversation.

“sir! that was a very important—” you stop yourself as you see him laughing and walking back to his office.

ceo!gojo who wakes you up every morning at 3 am to talk to you while at the club, not caring that you have work in a few hours.

“hello…?” you say groggily, abruptly woken from your sleep.

“you would not believe who i just saw,” gojo says. you huff in annoyance, thinking this time it was some kind of emergency. “sir, it’s three in the morning…” you trail off, looking at your alarm clock on your nightstand.

“can you stop calling me ‘sir’? anyways, i saw my ex at the club,” he exclaims. you rest your phone beside your pillow and slowly drift back to sleep as he continues to ramble on.

ceo!gojo who informs you about his impulsive purchases, this one being a ten million dollar yacht.

“suguru dared me to buy it. it’s really beautiful—you should join me when i have a party.” he whispers excitedly. you try to ignore him as you focus on his meeting.

“mr. gojo, could you please pay attention? we really need your input on this,” one of the angry businessmen says. gojo rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“my gorgeous secretary will answer for me,” he says, and you hide your smile at his words.

ceo!gojo who almost throws a tantrum when you tell him you’re quitting from lack of sleep (because of him), sleeping on the job, and messing up paperwork.

“okay, i won’t call you after work hours,” he whines, unable to believe you’re leaving him to find another job. you giggle at his words, knowing damn well he wouldn’t stop.

“i’m sorry, sir. it’s for the best. you’ll find someone better,” you reassure him as he groans loudly.

“but i don’t want anybody but you—what do you want? a new car? a house? i’ll triple your salary!” he offers many things to keep you, but despite his special adjustments to your salary, you cannot keep working for him.

ceo!gojo who contacts every single company you apply to. hell, he even pays them to reject your application.

ceo!gojo who grins widely as he sees you walking into his office a few weeks later, your anger evident as you approach his desk.

“my favorite ex-secretary! what brings you back here?” he says, cheering inside because all the jobs you applied to rejected you.

“satoru, i know you called the companies i applied to,” you say, getting straight to the point. he laughs loudly.

“what? how could you blame me?” he says sarcastically, knowing he thinks this is some game.

“do you want your job back? i’ll triple your—”

“yes.”

[livelovelizz]

you make you so easy

dick grayson x reader / fluff

“Stop following me.”

“Oh, did you want me to walk beside you? Hold your hand?”

You abruptly stop walking and shoot a glare up into the shadows of the nearby alley. You currently can’t see him, but you know he’s in there somewhere.

“I am trying to go home. After a long day,” you reply, “Alone.”

Nightwing melts out of the shadows, lips in a pout. “Come on, babe,” he whines, “I said sorry!”

You just shake your head and continue walking. “Stop following me, Nightwing. I wonder what the media would think, a vigilante stalking an innocent civilian and not leaving them alone?”

Some clicking and a whoosh of the air lets you  know he’s on the chase again. Gotham has never been a particularly safe place to walk alone after dark, even after the Bats rose to the occasion. The goons and villains made it hard, for sure, but the crumbling infrastructure of the city was just the icing on the cake. Buses and the train don’t run late, leaving a long walk in uncomfortable shoes after being stood up on a date.

“The media,” comes the reply, voice dripping with pride, “would simply see one of their beloved vigilantes doing their job! Nothing wrong with that.”

God, you hate he isn’t even out of breath keeping up with you. Not like you’re walking that fast, but still. You hope he trips.

“Maybe if the media knew what a dick you are, one that stands up their partner on a date they’ve been planning for months, specifically to not be interrupted!” You snap, unable to keep the simmering anger down. Fuck, if you weren’t angry about it, you’d cry. Inhaling slowly, you curl your hands into fists with determination to not make a scene. You stomp on.

It’s silent for a moment. For two. You would have thought he left if you didn’t know any better.

When Nightwing speaks, his voice is heavy. “Look, I know. I was looking forward to tonight too, but—”

You shake your head. When you breathe out, all the fight you had left. “I get it. I do. I just— let me be upset about it. Okay?”

You don’t get a reply or hear anything, but you know he’s still keeping pace. It’s nothing he can refute anyways. The both of you kept this day clear for months. It’s not often your dates can be more than a relaxed one at home, or spur of the moment. Not that you didn’t love those kinds of dates, of course you did, but it’s nice to dress up and show up for each other. You continue on your path on the crumbling side walk, only thinking about how nice it’ll be to be out of these shoes and in comfortable pajamas, maybe drink a glass of wine or two while ignoring your idiot of a partner.

As you pass through a darker portion of the street, a figure flips down in front of you. You stop abruptly lest you crash into them, but it doesn’t matter when you trip on a stray pebble and tumble right into waiting arms.

The arms curl around you tighter, rather than letting go.

“I’m sorry,” Dick murmurs into your ear. “I’m really sorry. I told them not to call me in but, fuck…”

You stand still as he digs his face into neck. A small crackle distracts you, talking too muffled for you to make anything out, though you know what this means. A hefty sigh runs through your body and you lean your head onto Dick’s shoulder briefly before prying him off.

“Duty calls,” you say softly, staring into lifeless white lenses. You look over him. He’s tense, body standing firmly on his feet in a way you know means he’s going to be stubborn. Suddenly, he clenches his jaw and looks away from you, yet he still doesn’t leave.

Lifting a hand, you softly trace his jaw up to his mask. With a small smile, you whisper “Go.”

“I’ll be as home as soon as I can,” Dick kisses the palm of your hand, and then like a tornado, flips away in a flurry off to whatever disaster is wrecking Gotham this time. You shake your head softly and start moving again.

Before you know it, you’re in bed, eyes blinking blearily as you turn on your phone. 4:43. Why’re you—?

“Did I wake you?”

Hands crawl over your waist, gently tugging you back into a chest. You can barely register the kisses on your neck before turning around to face Dick to croak out “D’ya j’s git h’me?”

You aren’t even sure your eyes are open, but you can still see Dick Grayson through the low lighting. Even while exhausted, he radiates light. He stares at you, hand brushing hair out of your eyes. “Go back to bed.”

“Hm.” is all you can manage before darkness takes over you.

The next time you wake up, a dim light shines through the blinds and you feel significantly more awake. You yawn and stretch out your body. Sitting up, something catches the edge of your eye. You look over and jump. Leaning against the doorway with coffee in hand, stands Dick Grayson. Oversized shirt, sweatpants, barefoot with eyes still half-closed, he looks beautiful.

You narrow your eyes and look to his side of the bed. Empty. You look over at the doorway. Dick. Bed. Doorway. No Dick. Dick. “You,” croaking, you point to the figure, “Who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?”

Dick only raises and eyebrow and walks over, hand brushing messy hair of of your eyes. “Am I not allowed to get up early?”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not. You’re supposed to still be in bed until noon,”

“Well,” he smiles before pushing a thumb on your forehead, tilting your head backwards. You straighten up and give him a look. “Get up. We have somewhere to be,”

Standing up, you reach your hands above your head and stretch. “Is it important?”

You wander to the bathroom, flipping the lights on and yawning. Dick drifts over and watches you brush your teeth from the doorway as he takes another sip. “Super important. I have a full day of making up to do with my very angry partner.”

The statement makes a wave of butterflies go through you. Washing your mouth out, you look at his reflection in the mirror. “Are you being serious?”

Dick’s reflection nods. “Very serious,” he replies, bright grin overtaking his features, “Funded by Bruce, too. As an apology.”

Now that statement makes you smile. You quickly turn around, affection bubbling within you and threatening to spill over. Stepping towards Dick, you gently push the coffee out of the way and capture his lips in a long kiss. Just as it starts to get serious– invoking a different kind of butterflies– you pull away.

Dick stares at you with a dazed expression.  “I’ll be quick,” you promise.

“I mean,” he mumbles, leaning towards you presumably to finish what you started, “We don’t have to leave right away… We could take a minute—”

A peck cuts him off. Dick immediately tries to deepen the kiss, but you just pull away and push him out of the doorway so you can close the bathroom door.

“Save that for later, Grayson,” you smirk. Just before the door shuts, you lift on eyebrow. “By the time I’m out of this bathroom, you better be ready to go. I’m not wasting a single minute today.”

The door clicks shut. You hear him chuckle and call out an affirmation. Turning back to the mirror so you can finish your morning routine, you look at yourself. Bright eyes, blushed cheeks, wide grin. You weren’t lying to him, you weren’t going to waste a single minute today. That included after you get home from your outing together. Dick definitely needed a punishment after yesterday, and you intend to make him learn his lesson all night long.

Well. You better get ready.

fin.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter I : The Beginning.

Summary: "Be careful what you wish for" is what everyone says, you realise that you should've taken them seriously when you find yourself reincarnated as a character in the show who never existed.

WARNINGS: CANON TYPICAL INCEST, CONTAINS SPOILERS OF F&B, S1 AND S2, reader's appearance isn't described, only the fact that she is a strong, you can imagine her however you like, the picture used in the header is only to capture the feel of the story. A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune

masterlist // next

“Jesus Christ, fuck this show, fuck everything, what the fuck is wrong with the writing?” You exclaim in annoyance after witnessing the scene that was supposed to be heavily impactful be butchered.

“That is the most anticlimactic death scene I've ever witnessed, this has to be a joke.” You furiously ramble. You decided to give House of The Dragon a try after your friend had recommended it, the show currently has released three seasons, with the fourth season in production, you thoroughly enjoyed season one and decided to binge all the seasons.

However, everything started to go downhill from season two, yet you still decided to watch for the sake of your favourite characters, daemon and aemond, only to witness the battle that was supposed to be intense and stressful get finished in the span of two minutes.

You stared at the screen, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you witnessed Aemond falling into the lake along with Vhagar, Daemon was knocked off Caraxes too and fell to his death.

They wrapped up the battle in mere moments, which made you angry as you were so hyped up to see them fight.

“Ugh, I never hated a show more than this, waste of my time, they did season one so well, what happened to rest? I did not expect this.” You sigh in frustration, feeling like you just wasted your time.

“If only… If only I ever get a chance, I'd change entire plot and script because fuck this.” You lay down on your sofa, staring at the ceiling, the show still playing in the background. You recollected the entire plot in your head, thinking of every moment in the show, trying to come up with an easy solution.

“If only they had married Jace to Helaena, it would have been peaceful.. Or at least if they had an older daughter married to Aegon or Aemond.” You mumble, but then shake your head, “What am I saying? Things still would've been complicated anyway.” You wonder in disbelief at your own words.

You yawned loudly, stretching out your limbs and blinking your eyes rapidly, your vision began to get blurry and you sighed in content, finally willingly wanting to sleep after you forced yourself to stay up all night to binge the series.

Your vision darkened slowly as you closed your eyelids, head spinning as you took slow breaths of air, cool breeze brushes past your cheeks and before you know it, you're slowly succumbing into slumber.

You blink your eyes open, realising you fell asleep, you sigh stirring on the soft sheets, entangling them between your legs.

Soft sheets?

Your sofa doesn't have any sheets.

You quickly blink again, taking the note of a translucent veil hanging from above, surrounding the bed you're in, creating a curtain around your bed.

Why were you in bed?

You sit up looking around, taking in your surroundings, your eyes widening in fear as you don't recognize this room at all, ancient tapestries, brown wooden furniture, and the source of light being only from the candle.

Have you been kidnapped?

You look down at your body, noticing you are in a white nightgown instead of the shorts you fell asleep in. Your heart begins to race and you panic, unable to understand where you are or how you got there. You steady your breathing, wondering if someone kidnapped you to play a role in a mediaeval film of theirs? But why would anyone do that?

The sound of metal clanking harshly against the floor and a small scream made your head turn the direction it came from, the liquid in the decanter spilling out rapidly as the person behind the fallen cutlery stood in shock.

“The princess is conscious!” She yells loudly before turning around and running out of the room in a hurry.

Princess?

Is this a prank?

You barely have any moment to think when you hear the sound of multiple footsteps coming from outside to your direction, you could almost feel the ground rumbling, noting that everyone was rushing to this room.

You push the veil to the side and stand up, getting out the bed and examining your surroundings, looking at the sigils and the paintings. All of this looked familiar somehow.

A small gasp echoed through the room, coming from the entrance, which made you turn around to take a look at who was in the room once again. Your eyes widened at the sight.

A lady with platinum blonde hair, blue eyes stood in front of you, someone who resembled Rhaenyra and next to her stood Jace and Luke breathing heavily, looking at you in shock.

Did the house of the dragon cast kidnap you to play a prank on you?

That sounds too unreasonable.

“Oh my sweet daughter!” Rhaenyra rushes over to you, embracing you tightly, tears flow down her cheeks as she peppers you with kisses “I-i i cannot believe this, you finally woke up after many years.” She sobs, you look at her questioningly. “Sister.” Jacaerys speaks up, coming to you and joining the embrace of you and Rhaenyra, Luke joins in as well.

“We missed you.” Jace says and you stare at all of them confused.

This has to be a joke.

They notice the expression on your face and their faces immediately drop, “Your grace, the princess woke up after many years, she might not be able to recognise you.” The maester chimes in, Rhaenyra nods, sniffling yet understanding your condition.

“Emma? Is this a joke?” You question, referring to the actor of Rhaenyra, “I’m not Aemma darling, she is your grandmother.” Rhaenyra corrects you. “I think she must be confusing the names of everyone due to her hazy memory.” The maester tries explaining, you sigh.

Yeah this must be a dream.

You shake your head gently and immediately slap yourself to wake yourself up.

“Ouch!” You yell in pain, cupping the cheek you slapped yourself on, Rhaenyra is mortified and the guards rush in and hold your arms back so you don't further hurt yourself.

This is not a dream.

You can’t feel pain in your dreams and you will wake up right before impact.

You look at Rhaenyra’s face, she is as real as a living person, standing right in front of you.

She looks just like Emma. of course, after all Rhaenyra is indeed played by them.

But this is not them.

She is not Emma

You can feel the vibe, it's very different.

You’ve met Emma before in costume, yet they did not give off the vibes as what Rhaenyra is giving off right now, after all, when you met them; it was just a show, but now it's your reality.

Did you die in your world?

You’ve definitely transmigrated into this show, but as who?

Did Rhaenyra ever have a daughter? You knew she didn't.

“Mirror, get me a mirror.” You ask and they look at you questioningly, your form begins to shake as the realisation is too overwhelming, there are many questions in your mind, “Please!” You cry, and immediately a servant moves and rushes over with a mirror.

Your eyes widen.

It's you.

You had not become someone else, but you remained as yourself. “What is my name?” You ask, “Y/N.” Rhaenyra replies. Your mind begins to spin, you are in another world as yourself, you have not possessed anyone else, which means your body must’ve disappeared from your world.

You try to stay calm in this situation, breathing heavily, “You are?” You ask, wanting to reconfirm, you watch as Rhaenyra's face crumples into that of a sad face, probably feeling hurt that her own daughter doesn't recognise her.

“I'm your mother, you are my eldest daughter, they—” She points at Jace, Luke and Joffrey, “—are your younger siblings.” You turn towards them.

You nod, pretending to play the part while you figure out everything. “I'm sorry, I do not remember.” You apologise and Rhaenyra shakes her head, “It is alright, you have been unconscious since the past six years, this is better than losing my daughter.” She replies.

“Six years… Did I fall unconscious after Aemond lost his eye?” You think out loud and Rhaenyra looks at you in shock, “You remember him?” She asks and you clear your throat, “It's hazy, my memory.” You answer back.

“Your grace, the event was probably traumatic for her, hence why she can remember it in parts.” The maester explains it to Rhaenyra, you mentally thank the maester for covering up for you always.

You noticed how they were all dressed up, looked as if they were about to leave but their plans were cut short, and you recognize this gown of Rhaenyra.

It was the gown she wore when she left for King's Landing, in order to settle the matter of Luke's right to driftmark. “You guys were departing somewhere?” You ask, wanting to really confirm it, “Hm? Huh, Yes, We were about to leave for King's Landing.” Jacaerys answers your question.

“Can I tag along?” You blurt the question.

“.. Tag along?” Lucerys repeats your words in confusion, your language confusing him.

“I mean to say, can I come along?” You ask the question in a proper manner, Rhaenyra shakes her head, “No- you've just woken up, you might still be weak- I cannot risk-”

“Mother! I am perfectly fine!” You cut her off, breaking free from the guards hands and running around the room, doing jumping jacks, showing her that you aren't weak and are perfectly capable of physical activity.

Rhaenyra watches in shock, seeing you move like this but she chuckles, shaking her head in comic disbelief, “I guess she has not changed after all.” The maester comments which makes Jace and Luke smile.

“Very well, Pack the princess’ belongings, and get her ready for departure, we will depart two days later.” Rhaenyra orders the maids and you smile at her.

“But mother, I do not have many dresses—”

“You do, I had them tailored every year, whenever you grew, hoping that you would wake up.” She replies softly and you just then realise how Rhaenyra loves her children.

“The maesters said that you might not ever wake up, and that your body will be stunted from growth, yet… I'm glad their predictions never came true.” She smiles gently at you, you smile back.

The maids come in with a bath as everyone leaves, some of them begin packing your belongings. You notice how your body doesn't look how a person in a coma state should be looking especially in the mediaeval times, but instead you seem to be well taken care of, treated as if you were alive.

The maids quickly finish your bath and dress you up, you have to pretend to get used to this atmosphere and era even though you're highly uncomfortable, the mere thought of having servants made you feel bad.

And with that, the night fell, you couldn't sleep thinking about how you're going to deal with everything, could you really prevent war from happening? It happens due to a misunderstanding in the show right? What if the misunderstanding doesn't occur? Your mind was filled with such thoughts through the whole night.

In King's Landing.

“My queen, Rhaenyra, has sent a letter saying that their arrival will be delayed further.” The master sums up the contents of the letter in the council room, in front of Aemond who had been called by Alicent for an urgent matter.

“Why so?” Alicent asks, furrowing her brows.

“Princess Y/N had woken up from her unconscious state.”

An ear piercing shattering sound of glass is heard through the entire room, when turned to look at the origin, It is known that Aemond had dropped the wine glass he was drinking from.

“Y/N is awake?” Aemond asks the maester.

“Yes my prince.” The maester replies.

Aemond's heart begins to pound in his chest loudly, his mind spiralling at the thought of you finally waking up all these years later.

“Please excuse me.” Aemond gets up from the chair, excusing himself from the council and leaving the room, his brain occupied with the thoughts of you.

There wasn't a day where Aemond hadn't thought of you, he would at least think about you once a day- the news of you waking up from unconsciousness made the adrenaline in his body rush.

He felt like a hungry snake that had been starved for many years who at last found a prey to feast on, he felt like a drought-stricken land finally receiving rainfall, he felt like a garden void of any flowers which started to bloom once again.

He was thrilled.

He reminisces of the fond memories you both shared, he could never ever forget them, smiling at the thought of you.

He wondered if you had changed or remained the same.

Whatever it was, he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to receive you.

[musical-chick-13]

Oh, I did NOT just see someone call a character mentally ill (when there is no evidence of that in canon) just because they’re a bad person.