#i understand Why but also.....it's just weird

[wyrmoffastring]

This is also why we NEED human translators!!! I have seen shit like this happen irl where someone would assume an English speaker was insulting them and I'd try and explain that no, they're not insulting you, you just lack the knowledge of the slang. No, someone saying your art is dope doesn't mean they think it's stupid. You just learned English in school in the 90s and you learned only very basic phrases. No, the person saying you're the shit isn't insulting you either! it means you're amazing! "But why can't they just say that then?? I felt so insulted!" because that's the more natural and normal way for them to express this. Because language is a living thing that will change and how people express themselves thru it will change. Please stop relying on google translate entirely. It's a good resource sometimes, it can help you understand the basic gist of a sentence, but you MUST absolutely MUST take into account the fact that there will be mistranslations and confusion. If the translated sentence seems really weird or insulting it might be, sure. But it's best to just double check before you go off on someone over a fucking glorified find and replace algorithm's idea of what words in a specific context mean.

This isn't even google's fault, not really. Translation is way too complex a thing for a machine to do. You need to know and process way too much information for good translation, let alone between two languages as different as Chinese and English. It's barely capable of translating between English and German a lot of the time because Translation Is Very Complex. And inb4 "you can just check words in a dictionary to make sure" you cannot. Those are updated by people and they're never entirely up to date. And yes, good dictionaries will have a list of potential meanings with context, but if you, for example, don't know the writing system, that's pretty useless and even when you do, how can you tell which meaning this is, for sure? You cannot. You can ask someone to double check. There's even subreddits for it. Just ask a human. AND FOR FUCK'S SAKE TRUST CHATGPT EVEN LESS. IT MAKES SHIT UP EVEN MORE. DO NOT RELY ON LLMS FOR TRANSLATION I AM BEGGING YOU.

[love-byers]

i fear no byler quote will make me more unhinged than:

"You guys think he's okay?"

"He's always weird when he has to go in."

"I don't know. He's quiet today."

"He's always quiet."

"..."

LIKE HOLY FUCK

the amount of depth this scene adds to mike and will's relationship despite only being a few seconds long is INSANE. my film student oomf @reo-bylerwagon has told me that it's a real strategy to find the exact right wording that adds this depth. there's only so many lines and so many scenes, so every last bit has to count towards something.

there is so much here

1. mike being closest to the camera while the others hang back

2. mike's expression being more concerned than the others

3. "you guys think he's okay?"

dustin is worried about his friend, but he's unsure. he seeks out lucas and mike's opinions.

4. "he's always weird when he has to go in."

lucas has noticed that will is noticeably different on days he has to go to the lab. but he reassures dustin. this is expected. will is always a bit off on days he knows he has to go in, because he hates it.

5. "i don't know. he's quiet today."

mike isn't so sure. will isn't acting the way he always does on the lab days. there's something else. he's noticeably quieter. mike suspects that this isn't just because of the lab, that maybe will isn't okay.

6. "he's always quiet."

lucas knew will was acting weird, but he didnt notice any difference in how quiet he was being. will is always quiet. that's just who he is. that's not a factor in his weird behavior, at least to lucas.

will is always quiet. every day. he is a quiet person.

there are several layers here that make it difficult to notice these shifts in will's behavior. he is a naturally quiet person. there is a known explanation for why he acts weird on certain days. and this is one of those days. no one else thought will was outside of his norm.

but still, somehow, mike knew that wasn't it. he noticed that will was acting different even on the day where he ALWAYS acts different. he noticed that will was being slightly quieter than usual even though he is ALWAYS quiet every single day. he knew this was new behavior. he knew there was something else going on.

but he doesn't voice this, he just watches will silently from behind the fence, clearly deep in thought. he's worried.

i'm sorry but why shove it down our throats that mike is more attentive to will than his other friends and clearly cares for him more and wants to protect him just for it to all mean absolutely nothing in the end? he is even more attentive to will than he is to el.

like how are they going to explain mike's behavior? cause like they still have to do that

"will is just his best friend" there's a whole scene in s1 where mike says they're ALL his best friends

"he's known will the longest" he also says he doesn't treat his friends any differently because of how long he's known them

literally what else is there?? is will just his extra special platonic bro soulmate???

ok so will was misled by mike's attentive caring and supportive behavior that was exclusive to him and developed romantic feelings. and mike is like that...just cause. this whole plot was just a tool to help will realize his sexuality and he'll get over mike and mlvn will be endgame.

a few problems with that...

WILL HAS BEEN BULLIED AND ABUSED AND CALLED GAY/GAY SLURS HIS WHOLE LIFE. unfortunately, and fellow queer people will understand, it's easier to come to terms with what you are when it's been spouted in your face your whole life. if wills love for mike was just to help the audience understand that he's gay, what was the point of all the homophobic abuse and hate crimes and all that? just cause? alright. noah has said will realized his feelings for mike "later on" but quickly cut himself off. will realized his FEELINGS, not his sexuality. will wasn't crying in the van because he doesn't want to be gay, or because he's coming to terms with the fact that he's gay. he was crying because he is deeply in love with someone who he thinks will never love him back. this isn't about self acceptance. will has accepted himself. he's accepted what he is. he's accepted his feelings for mike. that's not the problem. that's not why he's hurting. he's hurting because she's he's heartbroken.

like i'm sorry but it's ridiculous to pretend like you don't see how anything besides byler endgame makes 0 sense. bc it really doesn't and you don't even have to be a writer to see it

[transformers-spike]

Don’t know if you’ve answered this before or not but do you think there’s any bots that are into boobs. Yeah I know some might be into organic valves, but what about boobs? Do you think they’d have some sort of a fascination? Like not just the softness but the fact that our boobs have nipples- something they haven’t seen on their fellow Cybertronians. Maybe a mix of curiosity and fascination. I can def see it becoming some sort of a fetish for some. Can’t stop thinking about it.

Oh boy - I had to call in my resident tiddie enjoyer for this. It's @drunkeninlovesailor - she's got a lot more to say on boobs than I do

"What a magnificent ask OP. As a fellow boob haver and appreciator, this sounds like the perfect job for me.

Now, among cybertronians, chassis structure can vary, which is why they aren't particularly weirded out by the fact that some of us humans have more prominent chests than others, but they will find it fascinating to understand how that difference comes to be. The medics especially, like Ratchet and especially Knock Out, will want to look deeper into the anatomical structure and of course, their fascination also comes from a place of scientific curiosity.

But do explain to them what they are and why they are so. Ratchet will be incredibly fascinated by the fact us humans possess natural means to provide nourishment for our young, to further tie in how humans are a marvel in terms of reproduction. KO will certainly be more fascinated by the reason behind their softness and alluring appearance, and he perks up weirdly at the mention that they are associated with sex appeal.

I don't think there are any bots who won't like the boobies. Of course, some bots like Starscream could bitch about the fact they get in the way, but I mean, look at elements like Breakdown and Shockwave. If they can brawl. So can you. Forget anything the pretentious chicken is saying.

Anyway, do let your bot SO feel your boobies, they'll be enamored with them. If the human body is already soft, breasts are the softest thing they could hold. And the skin itself is softer, too.

They are indeed fascinated by the fact your chest seems to respond to external stimuli much like the rest of your body. Every faint touch elicit a response - even better, your chest area seems to be more sensitive than other parts of you, especially the nipple area, whose sensitivity is comparable to that of genitalia. Wait until you mention that boobies are considered private parts. They'll first shrivel up at having touched a personal part of you so lightly (unless you are KO or Shockwave, those mechs have no shame. Other bots like Dreadwing will apologize a million times for breaching your personal space), then they'll be blushing at the fact you decided to show them anyway.

They marvel at the way your skin gets goosebumps and your nipples change conformation, too. If you happen to have a generous amount of chest area, they'll love how squishy it is. Please, hold them while they're in mass displaced form, they have never felt such softness in their lives."

[ggirlthatgotaway]

Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

[kaija-rayne-author]

Do whatever you want, believe whatever you want. And using Veilguard as any sort of source for anything remotely related to canon Lore is just ridiculous. It's so... awful, IMHO, to use it to defend any sort of point.

I'm not certain if this would be considered critical, so I'll put it under a cut. Potentially critical of Veilguard.

Though I'm really just talking about the Lore.

I point out 4 massive retcons in Veilguard that blew my mind and that I see people commonly using as arguing points. And yes, if someone wants to pay me for the time, I can prove all of it with sources.

What little canon Lore they actually used in Veilguard? They twisted beyond recognition.

Just a few examples.

1. The blight is NOT, in fact, (or even in Veilguard) 'everywhere in the Fade'. It has always been contained to the Black City, that floats disconnected from everything else in the Fade. It's why the previously golden city is black ffs! Even in Veilguard, it's really damned obvious that the Fade isn't full of blight. We hop in and out of the Fade throughout the whole damned game like it's a shopping mall.

2. The Fade is not full of demons. Demons are spirits (people) of emotion. What usually twists them into demons is coming through the veil! The only reason there was the big demon in DAI is because it was attached to Coryphyfish. There's probably some, but it's an arguable point that an emotion spirit of, say, anger, or spite is actually a demon. Emotions aren't bad. They wouldn't automatically be demons simply because they reflect a negative emotion.

3. The veil has been canonically choking the life and magic out of Thedas for thousands of years. If the veil didn't come down, there would be no Thedas. This is clearly spelled out in canon. The veil was never meant to be part of the world. At the end of Trespasser, the veil is as holey as my grandmother's doilies. It's not as they tried to depict it in Veilguard, a firm, whole wall holding hordes of demons and the blight of blights back. That's such a bullshit retcon, and I make weird faces every time I try to figure out the mental gymnastics necessary for someone to come up with that idea.

4. It's also a massive retcon that Solas lies. (Sigh. Yes. It really is. No matter what you believe.) He canonically does not. They rewrote his character for DAI so that he doesn't lie because it weakened the character. He was originally written as much more similar to Blackwall. They decided it weakened Solas as a character and made sure he doesn't lie. He obfuscates, misleads, doesn't answer, and is really good at letting people make assumptions or even leading people to make assumptions. Because that is what a Trickster does! But in all of DAI and Trespasser, he does not lie except once. At the Winter Palace when you ask him where he got the experience of court. No. A 'lie of omission' is not a lie by the definition or philosophical understanding of what a lie is. You, as the player, not paying close attention to what he says doesn’t mean he lies either! He is not the 'god of lies'. That's Epler's hate shining through. Throughout 3 games, many dlcs, books, comics, short stories, the Dread Wolf is known as the Trickster. The god of rebellion and sometimes the god of betrayal. He is never once referred to as the god of lies in anything pre-veilguard. It's. Bullshit.

And Solas is an absolutely terrible liar. He stumbles all over himself trying to do it in the winter palace. It's hilarious tbh.

There were more retcons. But I need to go help with dinner.

Just, even if you liked Veilguard, don't use it as a defense in any sort of discussion of Lore. Perhaps listen to us Lore fiends, instead? Because they shat all over the Lore for Veilguard.

Real talk? It makes you look ignorant to anyone who actually has been paying attention to the Lore.

FWIW? I'm not in the best of moods right now. Please think twice, then a third time before responding/reblogging in disagreement. (Unless you're polite and actually have sources I haven't seen. I'm usually willing to have polite discussions or answer questions. I'm also willing to stand corrected if people actually can prove me wrong with sources attached. A 'nuhn unh, Solas lies cause I believe he does', won't get you far with me.) Nor will using anything from DAV to support an argument. I've relegated DAV to the graveyard of not-canon because of the complete disrespect of the Lore.

And I'll just laugh at you if you try to attack me. Internet randos filling my responses with shit doesn't phase me, bother me in the slightest, or make me upset. I find it incredibly, laugh out loud amusing because I've lived through so much more than that in my life.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Tell Me a Lie

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4617

Summary: Months of hell lead you to one moment- finding out your boyfriend is really alive. After figuring out where he’s been hiding, you concoct a plan- a very stupid, very dangerous plan- to draw him out. 

Notes: This is a terrible summary, but whatever. I finally started season three and I thought putting the reader in this situation would be really interesting. Obviously, his relationship with Elektra wasn’t the same, but the whole self-destructive Matthew is here and ready for angst. I’m imagining this kinda between the episodes where Matt goes to the hotel and the prison, but doesn’t really follow the plot of the episodes, just my own. This is also just a mess, but oh well. (And I know this is kind of what Bella does in New Moon, but I kind of dig it so I won’t apologize haha)

Warnings: Attempted assault, violence, abandonment, alcoholism literally looking for danger (obviously, spoilers for season three)

More Matt Imagines: HERE

-

It didn’t smell like him anymore. Such a weird, stupid complaint, but it made you sick to your stomach to breathe in the musty air of the apartment. 

You sat up, nursing your head in your hand, still pounding from the night before. Not that you’d slept, but hangovers still found a way to bite you in the ass. It was getting pathetic. Not that you cared. And not that your friends had actually used that word. 

‘Concerning’ was Foggy’s favorite. 

He could have his concern. 

You chased the numb. 

Anything was better than remembering he wasn’t here and the apartment you’d just started to share didn’t smell like him anymore. 

You got out of bed on shaking limbs, feeling the nausea roll over you. You swayed, wondering if you’d throw up again. You didn’t. 

You went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee to pull you out of the haze. Karen and Foggy were coming by today to talk about rent. You had to seem at least somewhat put together or they would try and talk you into getting help. Getting help meant moving on. Moving on meant giving up. Giving up meant lying to yourself. Admitting that he was dead and he wasn’t coming back. 

But Matt Murdock wasn’t dead. 

You could feel it. 

The pounding at the door felt like knocking on your skull. You groaned. 

Foggy stepped inside. 

“Morning,” he greeted with his usual chipper smile. 

You didn’t understand it. How he could still seem so happy after everything that happened. Then again, things went rather well for him after…

You shook the thoughts from your head. This wasn’t Foggy’s fault. 

“Hey,” you croaked. You took a long, burning drink from your caffeinated cup and let its effects wash over you. “I thought you two were coming together?” 

“Karen had… other stuff.” Foggy peaked around the corner, plastering a smile across his face. He figured he’d ease into the news. Especially because you looked- well- you looked the way you usually did these past few weeks. “But she says hi.” 

You nodded and took another drink. “Coffee?” 

“I already had some, thanks.” 

He stood silently. 

You stood silently. You raised a brow. “You can sit down, Foggy.” 

“Right. Thanks.” He nodded awkwardly and took a seat on the couch. So much for playing it cool. 

You set your mug to the side and leaned on the counter, fingers gripping the edge like a lifeline. 

“What happened, Foggy?” You stared at the back of his head and felt that familiar squeezing, wrenching breathlessness in your chest. The same feeling when Claire dragged you out of Midland Circle. The same feeling when you watched the building fall. The same feeling when Matt didn’t walk out. “Is it… is it Matt? Did they find him?” 

“No, it’s not about-” He blew out a sigh. “God, you haven’t seen the news then?” 

You hurried around to stand in front of him, panic still evident in your exhausted eyes.

Foggy had to look away. 

“Why, what’s on the news?” 

He gulped. “Maybe you should sit down.” 

“Just tell me what happened,” you scoffed. The sound came out as a nervous laugh, but on the inside, you were screaming. 

His blue eyes met yours. 

“Wilson Fisk made a deal with the feds. He’s out of prison.” 

You blinked. The crushing in your chest was replaced by your heart stopping. 

“What?” You choked out. Of all the things you were expected to hear, Fisk’s name wasn’t one of them. 

“Well, not out exactly. He’s apparently giving them information that’s made him a target in his old prison so they’re keeping him in a cushy penthouse for ‘safety purposes.’” He spat each word out. 

You put a hand on the back of the chair for support. “Fisk is free?” 

“Like I said, he isn’t free, but-”

You held up a hand to stop him.“Where’s this hotel?” 

-

The courtyard was absolute mayhem. Reporters scurried in every direction, each harassing a different agent for information they wouldn’t get. Matt dodged in between them. The noise made his still recovering head pound, but he could still pick out enough to get through. He ducked his head when he heard Karen’s voice, a small moment of panic almost making him turn around. 

He kept moving. 

The crowds didn’t surprise you. And neither did seeing the familiar blonde head weaving through the groups with determined strides. You hurried after her, almost bumping into the man in front of you, but he stepped out of the way just in time. 

“Karen!” You called. 

Gold strands whipped around. Her clear blue stare cut through the crowd. 

“Y/N?” She said, pushing through to you. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“So it’s true.” You tilted your head to the top of the building, its windows reflecting the sun in blinding brightness. “Wilson Fisk is up there?” 

She sighed. “Foggy told you then?” 

“If you’re planning on an ‘it isn’t safe for you to be here’ speech, save it,” you snapped. “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She bit her cheek, looked you over, and determined you looked sober enough. “Alright, follow me.” 

Matt couldn’t move. He tried to force his feet forward, but the heavy beating of his heart filled his ears and made it impossible to navigate the space around him. 

Your voice. Your scent. Even your heartbeat stood out amongst the dozens of people there. And for a moment, just a moment, he wanted to turn around. 

“Promise me we’ll go on that trip we talked about, yeah?” You laughed, though the air was salty with your tears and your voice shook. He kissed your lips for the last time.

“I promise.” 

But that wasn’t what haunted Matt for the last few months. Your sweet words of promise and hope stung, but they weren’t what kept him from going to you. Your screams were. 

“Let me go! Matt! No! Matty! I won’t leave him! Matt!” Even with countless floors between, Matt could hear your gut-wrenching screams as the others dragged you out of the building just before it blew. “Matt! Please! Matt!”

“Matt?” 

It took him a moment to realize that your voice now wasn’t from his memory. It was now.

You’d seen him. But judging by the direction, there was a chance you hadn’t seen his face. He could ignore you and chances were, you’d think you were crazy. Just another offense he’d committed against you. 

He wanted to turn around, to hold you and kiss your lips again and tell you he was okay and everything was going to be okay. That he was still your Matt. 

But the man you fell in love with was gone. He was buried under Midland Circle. 

Matt kept walking. 

-

You’d seen him. As crazy as it was, you knew it was him. He’d heard you. He must have because he stopped- just for a second, but he stopped. Karen may not have believed you, though you could tell she wanted to, but it didn’t matter. 

It was Matt. 

Somehow, it didn’t make any sense but it all made sense at the same time. He was going after Fisk. Of course, he was. Not even the grave couldn't stop your Matt from protecting his city. From protecting you. 

What you didn’t understand is why he kept walking. He acted like you weren’t there, but he of all people couldn’t have simply not noticed you. He’d left you there on purpose. 

He’d left you.

You paced the apartment with your hands raking through your hair with one question on your mind. 

Why? 

Sure, Matt would always use the excuse of protecting you before, but this time felt different. Had you done something? Had you not done enough at Midland Circle? What happened to him? 

Was it your fault?

The explosion was your idea and it buried him. Did he blame you as much as you blamed yourself?

Your feet halted in front of the closet door. Behind the door was a box. Inside the box was the emptiness that haunted your every waking moment for the past you didn’t even know how many days anymore. Your fingers clutched at the neck of the bottle on the table. The drink burned. 

None of it mattered. ‘Why’ didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was out there and he left you and as the burn raced down your throat you knew what you needed to do. 

And you knew where he might be.

-

The gentleness of your touch eased the sting of the disinfectant as you dabbed it on his wounds. It wasn’t the first night he’d come back cut and beaten, but you didn’t let your worry deter your movements. He came back. That’s what mattered. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, your voice as soft as your motions. You touched a particularly sore spot and he winced. As you went to draw your hand away, he caught it in his, fingers grasping at yours, still clenched around the towel. 

“Can we just… sit for a while?” He breathed. 

You nodded. He wiped away any blood remaining on his skin and set the towel aside. His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you to his chest. He listened to your heartbeat. You listened to his. 

Matt remembered the woman he’d come across earlier that night. Two men had jumped her. They were going to take what they wanted and leave her for dead. He’d taken his time beating them senseless while she got away. But her screams still echoed through his head. 

He tensed beneath you and you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing.”

You sat up. “Matt.” 

“It’s nothing,” he managed a laugh. “Really. Just come here.” He coaxed you back to him, but the tension was still there. He breathed in your presence and let out a low sigh. His arms tightened around you. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” His tone was different. Almost afraid. 

You drew lines on his chest. “I know.” 

“And I’d never hurt you, or at least mean to, anyway, but I know that I have and I’m-”

“Matty.” You crawled up so you were beside him, taking his face in your hands. “All I ask is that you come home at the end of the night.” You kissed his cheek. “In one piece, preferably.” He chuckled and you pressed your lips to his. You whispered in between kisses. “Just come home.” 

-

He talked about this place sometimes. Not often. Getting Matt to open up about his childhood was like pulling teeth, but in those last few months together, he’d started to trust you enough to let you in. 

This felt like a betrayal of that. Using your knowledge to expose him. To confront him for leaving you behind. A sober you might have thought of that. But the whiskey-fueled your anger, the rum your despair, and everything else blocked out any logical thought. 

What was the word Foggy used? 

Right. 

Concerning.

“Alright, Matthew,” you called out. Your voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper as you tried to hold back sobs. The wind stung the streaks of tears on your cheeks, but the more you tried to wipe them away, the more they fell. You took a drink. “This is it. Now or never.” 

You waited. You gave him a chance to stop you. 

“You always said you would never let anything happen to me, right? That you’d never hurt me.” You held your arms out at your sides. “Well, here we are, you goddamn liar!” Your voice echoed through the street. He would have been able to hear you for blocks, but standing just outside his damn door had to be good enough. “Come out, Matt!”

“Dude, check out this crazy bitch,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed the nervous bile in your throat. This was part of the plan. Sure, you thought you’d have to do a little more seeking, but this worked even better. There was only one way your tangled-up mind could figure that would get Daredevil to come out to play. You just hoped he would bring your Matt with him. 

You turned around. Two men stood in front of you, both of them with eyes scanning your body and lips forming smirks. Oh yeah. They were perfect. 

“What did you just say to me?” You tried to make your voice sound more confident than you actually felt. You wanted their anger, not their pity. 

“Hey, no need to be like that, I was just kidding,” the taller one said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I was just about to tell my buddy that you look a little lost.”

“Yeah, maybe she could use our help,” his friend agreed. “Do you want our help?” From the sound of his tone ‘help’ was the last thing he was offering. 

They both stepped towards you. 

And then a thought broke through your intoxicated, reckless mind. 

What if Matt really was dead?

It made you freeze. It almost made you sober. 

What if you just saw some guy that looked like him? What if you’d imagined it all together? What if all this time you’d been hoping- hell, even praying- that he would come back and he was still down there, at the bottom of Midland Circle, crushed and bloody and… gone? 

The men took another step forward, looking equally confused as they were intrigued. 

What if there was no one around to save you?

You held your head high. 

You hoped they’d kill you.

Either way, at least you would know. 

“You alright there, sweetheart?” The tall one asked. Sweetheart. The word stung. It belonged to someone else. 

You didn’t say anything and just started swinging. Fist to teeth, then foot against knee, you actually managed to do some damage before the friend grabbed your arms from behind. You stomped on his foot as hard as you could. Just because this was part of your plan didn’t mean you were going to make it easy for them. It had to at least look like you tried. For Foggy and Karen. 

The thought of the two of them threw you off. It made you blink, which allowed the lead prick to get a hold of your hair and use it to throw you to the ground. 

“You wanna play it that way, fine,” he growled. 

“Hair pulling?” You sneered up at him. “What, did your little sister teach you that move?” 

“Mouthy little bitch.” He brought his heel down on your head. Hard. It probably should have knocked you out, but you could still see through blurred vision with darkness around the edges. They started to walk away. 

“W-wait,” you said. The feet at the edge of your vision stopped. “Wait, come here.” You beckoned him to you with your hand. He crouched down. “Is that all you’ve got, pussy?” 

The hit came faster than you prepared for, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He kicked. And kicked. And kicked. Blood filled your mouth. You thought you heard a knife click open, but then everything went silent. 

And there was only one pair of feet.

A grunt. A thud. A body hitting the pavement. 

“What the…” Your main assailant gasped.  

You blinked, trying to see what was going on.

“Hey, man, she started it, I swear.” Another grunt. Another thud. Another body hit the pavement. 

A masked face appeared over yours.  

You smiled through the pain. “I knew it.” 

He took off the black band, revealing his panicked face. It was the last thing you saw before the darkness in your head took over. 

-

Matt carried you downstairs, every sense tuned into the creaking of your broken ribs, the smell of the blood leaking from your lips, your head, your nose. He focused on the sound of your heart. It was still beating. 

It was still beating.

“Sister!” He called. 

Sister Maggie, in all her wise-cracking wisdom, had known to be there. Matt didn’t know how, but not for the first time he was grateful for her presence. She helped without him having to ask. 

“Is she breathing?” She asked. 

“Barely. Her ribs are broken. I-I can’t tell how hard she hit her head.” He laid you on the bed, still listening to the semi-steady thump thump, thump thump. 

“Who is she?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hands roamed your features, the gentle curve of your cheek now split with a bleeding gash. He ran a finger over your lips. As if to confirm it was really you. He had to feel, had to know. Know that this was his fault. Your words echoed in his head. 

You’d never hurt me.

You goddamn liar. 

You were here for him. The reckoning for his sins these past weeks. 

“Matthew, who is she?” Margaret pressed again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Just help her.” Matt’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.”

Sister Maggie frowned, fingers clenched around the cloth she’d used to clean some of the blood. “You need to take her to a hospital.”

“Don’t.” Your voice rasped between them. “Don’t you dare.” You started to sit up, using shaking arms to push yourself upright even as your insides felt like they wanted to rip out of you just from breathing. 

“Stay down,” Matt said. He sat on the edge of the bed, easing you back to a lying position. “Try not to move.”

“I knew it.” 

“Y/N-”

“I fucking knew it.” You pushed back. He was stronger. Matt kept you down as gently as he could. 

“Sister, will you give us a minute?”

You turned to the woman you hadn’t noticed. She seemed glad to leave. 

Matt didn’t face you. He stood up from the bed and paced along the concrete floor, keeping a distance away that made you want to scream. You wanted to touch him. To make sure he was really there. But he hovered away from you like a ghost. 

“Those guys really did a number, huh?” You managed to sit up and this time, he didn’t stop you. Your head, however, wanted to bash itself in. Between the trauma and the liquor, you weren’t sure which made you more nauseous. “But the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is always around to save the day.”

“You did it on purpose,” Matt said, shoulders stiff. “You provoked them. They could have killed you and you-” He sucked in a breath. “Why?”

“I’m an adrenaline junkie. I drink, I look for trouble. It’s becoming quite the hobby.” You were lying. You knew he could tell. 

He stood still, head tilting slightly. “You knew I’d come.” 

“Ding ding ding.” You fell back on the bed and let the ceiling spin. 

Matt couldn’t speak. The panic he’d felt was slowly being engulfed by anger, though it was hard to tell at who. You were looking for a fight, that much he gathered was true. You were drunk, though the fight sobered you up some. Everything he’d ever told you, everything he’d done to try and keep you safe, would have been thrown away tonight. You would have let those men kill you if it meant he wasn’t there. 

And it was all his fault. 

He did the one thing he promised he wouldn't. He left. You’d never judged him, never questioned his need to put on the suit. All you ever asked was that he come back to you and this time, he didn’t. By choice, he didn’t. Just like everyone in both of your pasts, he abandoned you. This was your choice to get back at him, whether or not you believed he was alive. 

“I saw you,” you said quietly. “Today, at the hotel. I knew it was you.” The sure, stubbornness in your voice was gone, replaced by a cracking, wrenching sadness. “I had to know.” 

Matt didn’t say anything. He just reached for the lamp and switched off the light. 

“Get some rest.” 

When you woke up, you were in the hospital, bandages on your cuts, and more hungover than you’d felt in a long time. 

Matt was gone. 

-

They didn’t discharge you, but you left anyway. If they looked too closely at your emergency contacts, they’d find someone who was supposed to be dead and Karen. The latter was not someone you wanted to face right now. 

So, with a couple of busted ribs and one hell of a concussion, you went back to the apartment. His apartment. The place where he first kissed you, first touched you, first-

Now it was just yours. He didn’t want it anymore. 

You half debated going back to the church and demanding he talk to you. You’d like to see the brilliant lawyer try to talk his way out of this one. But in the end, everything hurt too much to face him. You wanted a drink. 

Unlocking the door, the click hit your chest harder than any of that creep’s kicks. 

You knew. 

You may not have had his abilities, but you knew. 

Walking in, you didn’t dare turn around and look at the stairs. You didn’t have to. 

“I’m all better now if that’s what you wanted to see,” you said. You threw your jacket on the floor and kicked off your boots. 

Matt didn’t move from his place by the roof entrance. He stood over you like a judgemental god and you wanted to hit him for it. You might have if he didn’t already look like hell itself spat him back out. 

“You wanted them to kill you,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Not an accusation. An acknowledgment. 

“I wasn’t going to stop them if they tried.” You shrugged. You moved to the kitchen. “Beer?” 

“You shouldn’t drink with the amount of pain medication they gave you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like he was just your boyfriend and looking out for you. But he wasn’t and you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. 

“Yeah, well, it’s going to wear off at some point so I might as well get ahead of the curve here.” 

“Y/N-” He stepped. The steps creaked. 

“Don’t.” You held up a hand. “Don’t come anywhere near me, Matt Murdock.” 

He flinched at the sound of his name like it was a blade you held against his throat. 

“Stay where you are,” you said and twisted off the bottle top, grasping so hard the rigid edge dug into your palm. “Shit.” It sliced your skin and your blood dripped onto the wooden floor. 

You didn’t watch him descend the stairs or cross the space between you. You closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see his hand grab yours, wrapping the small but deep cut with gauze he carried with him. You yanked away the moment his hold lightened. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Y/N-” He said again, your name hurting more than his own. 

“You’re dead!” Your scream filled the apartment. You knew it filled his head. Everything always did. Good. Let it. 

Matt didn’t step away, but he did let his hand fall back to his side. 

“I know.” 

You tried your best not to shake, not to cry and show the weakness you’d felt for the last weeks. Then again, you wanted him to know. You wanted him to feel everything you’d felt. 

“Tell me you were trapped somewhere. Tell me you tried everything you could to get back to us and you just broke free,” you pleaded. “Tell me a lie, Matt, because I’d rather hear that than whatever bullshit reason you can give me.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak, reading his face before he could say it. 

“I swear, if you say something about ‘protecting me’, then you should have just left me to those creeps because that would have been better than listening to that broken record again.” You turned your back and for that second, you let yourself crumple, but only for a second and completely silent. 

“It wasn’t about you.” 

You straightened up again. “It never was.” 

Now, with you facing away, it was his turn to break. Matt sucked in a sharp breath to keep himself together as you continued. 

“It was always about you, Matt. About your insisted martyrdom.” You didn’t try to stop your tears now, tasting their salt as they flowed past your lips. “Your city. The rest of us just live here, right?” You turned around, stepping towards him. “But at least we live.” With your hands on his chest, you pushed him back. “Which is a hell of a lot harder than hiding.” 

You pushed again and again and again and he just stood there and took it. Your flattened hands turned to fists, hitting harder and harder until you were sure you’d leave bruises on his chest. 

It was when you collapsed that he finally moved, throwing his arms around you before you could hit the floor, your legs giving out under the weight of your utter, complete agony. Your sobs choked you and rattled through Matt like gunfire. You kept fighting him, even as he held you, the pain of your injuries was nothing compared to what you felt in your soul. Like the shattered pieces were being forced back together, but didn’t fit anymore. 

Matt wanted to make it stop. He wanted more than anything to take all of the pain away and tell you it was going to be okay. He was here now. But he was the cause of it all and there was nothing he could do to change it. 

And while there was still a dark part of him that wanted to leave you here, to shield you from him entirely, Matt knew if he tried to walk away now, he wouldn't survive it. Daredevil or Matt Murdock, it didn’t matter. He was yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“You were dead,” you said again, this time with broken words blending together with your sobs. “I tried to go back. I tried to get into Midland Circle, but they dragged me out. I tried, Matt, I-”

He cut you off with a kiss on the forehead and held you closer. 

“I know.” He could still hear your screams, your pleas to give up your life to try and save him. He’d thrown it away, everything you’d tried to make of him. Of the two of you, together. 

You’ll get her killed too. Fisk’s voice in his head pierced his skull like a blade. I will crush her. I’ll tear her apart piece by piece, Matthew, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. 

“She’ll put up a hell of a fight first,” Matt muttered. 

“What?” You pulled back to look up at him. 

He shook his head and held you closer still until the lines between you blurred together. 

“Nothing.” 

Even though every part of him now screamed to get away, he couldn’t move. Even as you knelt in front of him, pulling his lips down to yours, he didn’t fight it. A shock worse than any punch went through his system the moment you kissed him. Like every nerve was finally waking up. 

Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. 

Matt cupped your cheek with one hand and slipped the other to the small of your back, urging you to stand and walk with him to the bed neither of you had slept in in weeks. 

He’d decide in the morning.

[dogmasquerade]

reblogging because i think i wasnt clear with my original comment (also got a weird ask reminding me i made it) i didnt mean that humans werent also predators lol i was speaking in a colliqual sense. like to me the temps are viewing talita as a predator because she- in a human perspective- is to them. in the same way that most people don't think they could take on a tiger in a fight (ignoring those people who think they could punch out a bear) despite humans being the reason tigers are dying in the first place- we are massively destructive dangerous animals but we dont see ourselves as such. i understand ecologically that everythings eating other shit- to the fly the spider is scary to the spider the bird is to the bird the cat etc. i was more tryna say that i understand why the temps are... not so much scared, but not viewing her as "safe" even though obviously she is, instead of focussing on other traits about her, like the og asker mentioned. to them she's a giant crocodile beast, and they just make that assumption and stick with it, just like how people hate snakes and spiders because to them that's ugly venom beast without pausing to reconsider that.

I find the way the temps react to talita and how they refer to her as a predator really interesting. humans are also predators, apex ones at that, even without biomodding. I was wondering if you have plans to address this (or if you have in the past) because I think that's a really interesting way of singling her out instead of aiming for something they don't have in common like centaurs being less developed as a space race, the differences in anatomy, etc etc. I adore your worldbuilding!

In my experience very few humans conceptualize themselves as being animals with ecological roles like “predation.” To them ecology is something humans look at from the outside. They are looking at Talita from the outside, too.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

[beneathsilverstars]

people are wondering about loop in the au where the party stops siffrin from using the dagger in dormont and the ensuing conversation breaks the loops so let's see...

Siffrin would still want to go see Loop first thing afterwards, but everyone else would be verrry worried about him going off alone. He tries to inconspicuously wander off but Isabeau is immediately like, "Heyy buddy where are you off to? Mind if I come with?" Siffrin feels guilty for selfishly making everyone feel obligated to not leave him alone, and getting them all worried about an issue that isn't even what it looked like. So he's kinda hoping they won't be so worried about him now that they've beat the king and decided to stay together... but he's also afraid that if they stop worrying, they'll decide, okay, no need to stay together after all.

But luckily Siffrin doesn't have to sort all of that out right now, because they know Loop has complicated feelings about the party and doesn't want to see them, so they know they have to go by themself if they want a chance of talking to them.

They try to play it casual, "I'm just going to the favor tree, you don't have to come with me." But two can play at surface-level manners so Isabeau says "I want to, though, it's no trouble!" Siffrin doesn't want to refuse him point-blank, but they really want to talk to Loop... so they go back and forth another time or two before Isabeau's like "Look. You understand why I'm worried about you suddenly going off for no apparent reason, right? On your own, when you've been glued to my side for the last half hour? I... I don't want to stop you,'' (Does that mean that he wouldn't? Or that he would, but he'd be sorry about it?) "but I would feel a lot better about it if you brought someone with you? Doesn't have to be me. Or at least explained why you're going...? Sorry, I know it must be so annoying to have to explain your every move, but... it's been less than a day, since. y'know. And I'd be... I just want you to stay safe."

And oh, Siffrin hates that he's made Isabeau so upset, that he messed up so bad yesterday and that he's making it worse right now, that he's made him so concerned over nothing. So he hesitantly, carefully explains, "There's someone I want to talk to. at the favor tree. I... talked to them there yesterday? And. they might be there again today, but. they definitely won't talk to me if any of you are with me." And, okay, it's reassuring that Siffrin has a reason, and it doesn't even seem he's lying, but. Isabeau can't help but be worried anyway. Especially because this is apparently someone Siffrin talked to at right about the same time that he started acting weird, yesterday? What if this person made Siffrin feel worse, what if they did something that pushed Siffrin over the edge??

But he knows that's edging past reasonable concern into paranoia, so he just asks, "Would it be alright if I walked you to the edge of town at least? Since you're still kinda woozy, and, that way I'll be in earshot if you need me...?" And Siffrin agrees, very relieved to have found a compromise and actually glad for the continued company. And it occurs to them that Isabeau might be less worried about them if they didn't have their dagger on them, and, the day has already been saved... So he gives Isabeau his dagger, along with a promise that he's not gonna do that, and Isabeau does seem happier!

So off they go through Dormont. Isabeau stops farther back on the path just a bit before the bend, where he won't be able to see Siffrin or overhear casual conversation, but could definitely hear a shout and coming running. And Siffrin goes to the tree, and sees the coin, and... twohats ensues! The dialogue is somewhat different, though, because they never did entirely figure it out in the end, did they? They had started learning about wish craft, but Loop hadn't quite connected it yet and of course Siffrin refused to look at their own wish. And then, what a dramatic final loop!

So. More along the lines of, "That was it? Really? You just had to kill yourself in front of them to get everything you ever wanted? To break the loops? To never be alone again? To guilt them into staying forever, because they think you're going to slit your own blinding throat if they let you out of their sight? Sure! Whatever it takes! Never let anyone tell you suicide threats don't work~" and "Do you know how many times I killed myself? How many more times I died?? Did I just not do it right? Wrong time, wrong place? Did I not suffer enough? Was I not selfish enough? What did I do wrong!! Why do you get to escape and not me! I deserve this happy ending, not you!! Why do you get to stay with them and not me!!!"

But, hm. Loop was kinda really raising their voice there at the end, weren't they?

Loop's voice still sounds a bit odd — part inhuman form, part new habit, part intense emotion — but, they're not putting active effort into keeping up the mask right now. Not when they're this upset. Not when Siffrin already knows. And Isabeau hasn't seen Loop yet; he just heard their voice. And a couple of the things that voice said.

So Isabeau makes it around that corner while Loop is speaking more quietly. And then Loop says "STARS, killing you will make me SO HAPPY," and Siffrin reaches for their dagger and freezes as he realizes and remembers it's gone, and Isabeau speeds up, and Loop looks up and see him and freezes too.

And Isabeau says, "Sif?? I thought you promised you weren't going to kill yourself over here???"

Long story short, Loop panics and runs, Siffrin follows while shouting things trying to convince them to come back, so of course Isabeau follows too, and Siffrin almost collapses because they're still craft exhausted. Loop gives up and lets them catch up, and I do mean gives up, they just wanna lay down and die, if you can't go out with a bang there's nothing wrong with a whimper. But Siffrin and Isabeau refuse to leave them there, so they wait around and talk at them, and then run out of things to say and wait some more. Eventually Mirabelle finds them and she's very upset and glad they're okay, and at that point Loop gives up on giving up and quietly follows them back to Dormont, so Siffrin won't get himself more sick and all his friends more worried, staying out in the forest all night.

And so! The party knows who Loop is from the very start, but not anything about the time loops! Just that something very strange must have happened, to end up with two Siffrins and one of them a star.

[ihavethedreamies]

Kept Secret | Changbin [NSFW]

Seo Changbin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: Wonsanghwa! Changbin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

(A Wonsanghwa was essentially the guy who trained the Hwarang.)

Genre: Historical AU!, Pre-Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Friends-to-Lovers (ish)

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (Princess [also her title]), Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Big Dick! Changbin, Cockbulge (slightly), Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Summary: You are the youngest princess, and because of that you get the most freedom. The only thing your father refuses is to let you learn to fight. So, you get rid of the middleman and go straight to the Wonsanghwa.

Author's Note: Holy crap, I'm back! If you didn't read my pinned post, I basically took a hiatus to write my book, and...that didn't happen so I'm back owO

This one is not in the Joseon era, this is set much earlier, probably around the 9th century. I know most of what I do of the Hwarang based on The Great Queen Seondeok which is, from what I understand, at least somewhat more accurate than the show Hwarang.

P.S. At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, including the clothing they wear and some other terms.

P.S.S. Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

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I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Birds chirp in the trees, the leaves casting a shadow from the late morning light over your face. Your cheek is pressed to the wood of the table you’re sitting at in the palace pavilion with your sisters. Rocking the chair under you in boredom, you just sigh.

“What's the issue now?” Your sister next to you, Seoyoung, three years older, doesn't even look up from the scroll she’s writing on. Probably a letter to her husband.

“Probably the same issue as before.” The second youngest, Miseong, hums, popping another piece of fruit in her mouth, “children get bored so easy.”

“You're like a year and half older than me, be quiet.” You sit up straight so you can sneer directly at her. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear coyly, batting her eyelashes and you can’t help but huff in amusement.

“I don't see why you want to learn to fight.” The eldest of your sisters, Daeyoon shakes her head, picking through her tray of beads to find another for the piece she’s making.

“I don't see why you keep asking father.” Miseong scoffs. She has a point.

“Because father said no, neither Gaeyong nor Taseok will teach me.” Your brothers are too obedient for your own good. They never help you do anything fun.

“Then ask one of the hwarang, even just a nangdo.” Wonyoung finally speaks up. She’s the middle sister and sits in a weird place socially among the family. Your two eldest sisters get away with nothing, and you and Miseong get away with almost anything. It’s a toss-up what your mother or father will do if she gets in trouble. Especially because she rarely does. Since you’re the baby, you’re treated as such. Any misbehavior is brushed off as childish fun and you’re praised for minor things. You were a spoiled brat as a kid, and you know it. The one thing you want most is the one thing you’re held back from. Your father restricts you from learning to fight more for your protection than even you being a woman, which honestly pisses you off more.

“I don't know any of the nangdo. They're even stricter though because they get in trouble easier. I think the hwarangdo are too close with Taseok…”

“What about that younger guy that is the trainer? I think he's about Gaeyong's age.” Seoyoung speaks up, just wanting you to stop whining about learning to swordfight.

“Oh, yeah, he was so good he got promoted when the last Wonsanghwa retired and the senior sangseon got really mad!” Miseong nods, then grins evilly, “he's handsome too.”

“He's short.” Wonyoung adds and you honestly don't mind. You’re short too. She probably mentioned it because her fiancée is so tall. All of your sister's partners are, and of course you’re the only single one. But that’s beside the point, you want a trainer not a spouse.

“Can you try and help me meet with him?” You look at Daeyoon and she shoots you a withering look. Her husband is a gukseon, so he would be able to.

“Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-” You rub your hands together, ready to get on your knees to beg.

“Heavens! Fine!” She aggressively throws a silver bead back into her tray.

 ~ò3ó~

“W-wait, unni, don't leave me alone!” You hiss at Miseong as she begins to leave.

“I'm not getting in trouble with you!” She shoots back and then dashes away, leaving you alone in the courtyard of the hwarang housing, the moon shining high among the stars above your head. The dull, warm light of the lanterns seems eerie when out alone, even the normal peaceful cricket noises put you on edge.

“Gongjunim?” An unfamiliar voice catches your attention, and you flinch, spinning around to see the owner. Judging by what he’s wearing, he’s the Wonsanghwa. And…he is short. However, he’s very handsome as well. Plus, the fabric of his uniform seems to strain against the muscles of his chest and arms underneath. Your face suddenly feels warm, and you’re glad for the lowlight.

“U-uh…” you clear your throat, then stand straight like you’ve been taught all your life, “yes.” He bows deep at the waist, then comes closer so he’s standing before you. Just because he’s short for a man, doesn't mean he isn't still taller than you, nearly five chon.

“Gukseon Bodam told me you want to learn to fight?”

“Yes! I don’t care if it’s a sword, or even just a little dagger,” you motion with your index fingers, “or maybe a pong stick of something? A spear?”

“You could hurt yourself with something like that.” He hums, looking you up and down. You sneer at his derisive look, and he raises a brow. He scratches his forehead under the headband he has tied around his head.

“I…I could. That’s why I want to be taught.” You insist, trying to sound assured of your own statement. He turns his head away, seeing if anyone is around. He has his hair up in a full top knot unlike many of the hwarang who normally keep their hair half-down. It suits him though. When he looks back at you, he sighs.

“Fine. I’ll train you in martial arts, no weapons.” He turns around and motions for you to follow him toward what you presume is the actual training grounds.

“Is everyone asleep, Wonsanghwa?” You ask, walking next to him. It’s nice to just be beside someone since you’re so used to being followed by a handmaiden instead of her next to you.

“Should be. Don’t worry, even if we get caught, no one knows exactly who you are to snitch.” You finally arrive and he motions to a small shed at the back of the area.

“Go change, you'll ruin your dress, Gongjunim.”

“I see. I…what is your name?” You turn back to him after stepping toward where he pointed.

“Seo Changbin, Gongjunim.”

“Ah. Thank you, Changbin-ssi.” He nods and you scurry off to do what he said.

The clothing is a bit too large, but that’s understandable. You even decide to tie your hair up much like the hwarang do, with the headband and everything.

“I’m ready!” You smile at him, proud of yourself and he casts you an amused grin, then raises his brow.

“You ready?”

“Yes!”

 ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

“Keep your feet spread more, and put more force with your calf and shin, not your whole leg.” Changbin uses his ankle to press on yours and get you in the right stance. He’s been working with you for about three weeks, even managing to get you some training during the day instead of at night. You’re getting better to the point that he decides maybe, one day, you can try a practice sword.

Following his advice, you go to deliver another kick to the straw dummy he’s set up. You knock it over and he nods in approval. As he instructs, he’ll often maneuver you into the right pose or stance with his hands or feet. Sometimes, he’ll be close enough that his chest presses against your shoulder or back, and you have to fight back a blush. The longer you work with him, get to know him, you realize you’re falling…fast. He’s actually extremely sweet despite being a rather strict trainer. And he’s good too. Strong. You really want to see him underneath all those layers of his uniform…

“Eyes ahead, Gongjunim.” He snaps in front of your face; his smirk becomes clear when you zone back into reality.

“R-right!” As you go to demonstrate the next move, you ankle twinges and you yelp in pain, twisting wrong and falling onto your shoulder.

“Ow!” You land on a rock or something and when you sit up, there’s a tear in your borrowed clothing, a bit of blood staining the white fabric.

“Hey, let me see.” Changbin is immediately at your side, looking over the cut and you press your lips together, eyes flitting all over his face. You didn’t and still don’t believe him when he said he was a scrawny kid and teenager. Can’t really even picture it.

“I can help you clean this up, it’s not too deep.” He stand and when you go to follow him, your ankle screams, making you stumble. He catches you with his chest and you just want to press closer.

“Your ankle again?”

“Yeah.” You’ve been twisting it a lot and it seems more likely to happen the more often it does happen.

“May I?” You’d gotten more informal with each other, but you are still a princess. You nod and with great ease he lifts you into his arms to carry you to the clinic room of the hwarang housing. Changbin gently sets you down onto a chair inside and begins to tend to the cut.

“Um…so, you mentioned the other day your dad is trying to match you with a girl?”

“Yeah, but most of them haven't wanted to continue courting when they see my height.” He sniffs in dismissal, and you wrinkle your nose in annoyance.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re sweet, and funny, and handsome.” He looks up at you then and you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him. His crooked brow falls, and he smiles gently.

“I’m glad at least you see me that way.” You flinch when he dabs at the cut with a wet cloth. There’s some sort of herbal poultice he just adds water to and applies with a bandage to your cut. It stings a bit, then feels much better.

“Why did you really want to learn to fight?” Instead of brining you back outside, he leans against the wall, crossing his arms. You look at your lap, fiddling with your fingers.

“A year ago, my sisters and I got…well, mugged basically while we were in the market and when we tried to get our money back, I got punched and I…I couldn’t do anything to defend myself or my sisters I…hated it. Even to just learn something, to do anything…” It wasn’t the most terrifying experience since it was just some teenager that did it, but you hated feeling so helpless.

“Then we should stick with martial arts. You don’t need to be able to fight with a weapon for something like that.” He stands back up to lead you back out, but you bump into him when he stops right before the door. He turns to look at you softly, “I don’t want you to get hurt even if it’s just learning to fight. I don’t want to be the one who lets you get hurt.” His eyes flick to the cut he bandaged on your arm. Changbin then leaves the clinic, and you wait a few seconds to follow him, patting your cheeks that you know for sure are red.

~◕‿◕✿~

“Changbin?” You’d arrived at the hwarang compound of the palace at your designated time, but the Wonsanghwa isn’t there. Looking around to see if you can see even a trace of him…nothing.

“Gongjunim?” An unfamiliar voice calls out instead and you turn to look, panicked. From the uniform you can tell it’s another member of the hwarang, probably a nangdo. Luckily, you aren’t in your training uniform yet.

“Y-Yes?” You stand up straight, readopting your regal posture you had let relax.

“Can I help you?” he asks, stepping closer; his face is vaguely familiar.

“Oh. I-I'm looking for the Wonsanghwa.”

“Ah, he's not here now. He had to return to his father's home to meet with a family friend's daughter.” Daughter? A woman…

“Oh.” Your entire posture deflates, and you know why the information upsets you so much, but you are a bit ashamed showing it in front of the nangdo.

“Are you (Y/N)-gongju?” he asks, and you look up at him a bit, nodding.

“If you want to wait, I'm sure he'll be back soon. You know, he won't stop talking about you?” The younger man smiles, and your head shoots up to focus on him.

“Really?”

“Hm. I wouldn't worry too much, I'm sure he'll be back soon, just as single.” The nangdo smiles and leaves and you sigh. It’s too risky to wait out in the open, but you aren’t sure where to go to wait either without going back to where you are technically allowed. Heading back to the clinic where Changbin had tended to several little cuts and scrapes you tend to get; you sit at the same table to wait.

~

“(Y/N)?” You jerk away, lifting your head from your folded arms, then rub your eye. It’s dark out, only the faint light of torches from outside shining in the room.

“Huh?” The door opens then, and Changbin steps in, dressed in normal clothes rather than his hwarang wear.

“How long have you been here?” He huffs, setting he lantern down on the table, letting the stick it hangs from rest on the surface as well. He sits across from you and licks your lips nervously.

“Um…around shinshi…” You admit.

“Aigo, it’s been hours… Why did you wait for me?” He shakes his head in disbelief. He only looks a little different without his headband, but somehow, he’s even more handsome.

“Well, um, because-”

“Was it because I was meeting Lord Bak's daughter?” Your silence is telling enough.

“(Y/N),” you’d told him a while ago to just use your name when it’s just you two, “were you jealous?” Changbin smiles, not a smirk, he’s grinning like an idiot. Your silence is, once again, telling enough.

“(Y/N). Do you really think I’d even want to look at a woman who isn’t you?” His voice is gentle, but his giddy grin doesn’t change.

“H-huh?”

“When I got to my family’s, I told my father I didn’t want to court anyone. Well, not no one, only you. That’s why I was gone for so long, we had to get a bigger dowry put together. My father’s meeting with the king now.” He gets up, going around the table to you, and kneels on the floor so he can look up at you. Tears are already gathering in your eyes.

“I hope it wasn't too forward of me to assume you would say yes?”

“Of course, yes you handsome jerk! I was so worried you’d come back engaged to some other woman!” You nearly fall out of your chair when you hug him and he laughs, standing up and easily lifting you with him, spinning you around. 

~θωθ~

 “So, how does it feel to be a prince now?” Your fingers mess with goreum of his white marital jeogori. Changbin smiles.

“It feels better to be your husband.” You nearly whimper, resting your head on his shoulder and he chuckles. You thought he was sweet before, but you’re pretty sure you’ll never want sweets again.

“I love you, so much.” He hugs you, strong arms feeling so comfy around you. Stepping back, your eyes flit over his face and down to where the fabric of his top stretches over his chest. Your fingers go back to the tie, and you pull on it, watching the knot loosen. Biting your lip, he watches with a cocky smirk as you grip the sides of his shirt and pulls them open.

“Oh.” You sigh and he can’t help but grin, looking away and clearing his throat to hide his giggle.

“Every other woman is a fool.” You declare, gently resting your hands on his bare chest. As soon as your skin touches his, you whine, pressing harder, feeling the muscle under his skin. Changbin smiles like an idiot, loving how enthralled you are with him.

“C-can I…?” You have a hard time working up the courage to ask the full question.

“Do whatever you wish, (Y/N)” He kisses your forehead and then his eyes widen, not expecting your next actions. You lean forward, kissing his collarbone, then whimper. You fall to your knees and lick a strip from just above his belly button to as high as you can, right at the base of his sternum. He shivers softly at your actions, fingers weaving into your hair.

“What…are you doing?” He huffs a laugh, bemused and slightly in awe.

“Tasting~” You hum, kissing over his abs, then licking his stomach again. You’ve never acted so boldly before, but he isn’t complaining at all.

“Hm, sounds like fun~” He grins and what he does next makes you squeak. He easily picks you up, nearly slinging you over his shoulder like a sack, carrying you to your bed. You let out a puff of hair when he quite literally drops you onto the bed and he starts to untie the fasten of your sokchima. He gets frustrated quickly with the knot however and just tears it at the seam and yanks it off of you. As he tugs it off, the action flips you over onto your stomach and you barely have time to react before you feel his hands on your hips, his hot breath right against your cunt.

“C-Changbin?” Your breath then leaves you when he swipes his tongue up through your folds, the sudden intense pleasure instantly makes you dizzy. You had never even so much as touched yourself with your fingers, the lack of attention making you extremely sensitive.

“Fuck, you taste so good, princess~” He groans, thumbs spreading your pussy open and he licks up from your clit to your entrance, then shoves his tongue in as deep as he can. All you can get out are gasps, as soon as you can get your breath back, he takes it away again.

“C-Changbin-! S-something feels- weird-“ You heave out and he can feel your gummy walls pulsing around his tongue. The strange sensation kind of scares you, almost feeling like you need to relieve yourself, but feels so much better.

“You’re gonna cum, princess, my princess~” He practically giggles, then sucks at your clit and you nearly scream as your climax hits you. Your fingers dig into the bedding, knuckles going white as your vision does. Your pulse races in your ears and the first thing you can hear when the waves finally die are Changbin’s near-giggles and your heaving breaths.

“Did that feel good, princess~?” He leans over you where you’re still face down on the bed, nearly fully laying on top of you. You whimper when you feel his fully hard cock press against you through his pants.

“T-thought I died…” You huff, then giggle softly when he laughs.

“You taste so fucking good~” He whispers in your ear, and you whimper.

“Please, Changbin…I wanna taste you too.”

“No you don’t-

“What, why not?!” He gets off of you so you can roll over to glare at him.

“I promise I won’t taste nearly as good as you do.”

“How do you know-“ He cuts you off by gently cupping your jaw in his hand, thumb running over your cheek.

“Maybe one day, love, but right now, I need to fully claim you.” His voice lowers to a rough timbre, and you shiver at it.

“Get to the head of the bed.” He tells you and you scooch back to do so, watching intently as his fingers go to the tie of his sokbaji and the white fabric pools at his feet. You’ve never really seen a guy naked, the one time you kinda did, he wasn’t even hard, but…

“That…will it even fit?” You gawk at him, not in horror or disgust, but with genuine awe.

“We’ll make it work~” He smirk smugly, crawling on the bed over you. You huff when he pushes you to lay down then his strong hands go to your thighs, and he leads you to wrap your legs around his waist. You gasp a soft moan as he grinds his cock over your slick folds, a shine transferring to the skin of his cock, and when it slides over your clit, your hips twitch.

“That feel good, princess?”

“Yes~” He slides his cock over you a few more times, then drops your legs, pumping his hand over his cock, enjoying the glide your wet allows.

“Let’s get you ready for me…” He leans down, sealing his lips against yours and you sigh, letting his tongue into your mouth easily. You moan into the kiss when his fingers slide through your folds, then he slowly sinks two of his fingers into you. It stings, but not so bad it hurts, just feels odd. As he slowly moves his fingers, he presses up against your back wall and all of the slight discomfort disappears, replaced with a wave of pleasure.

“A-ah-!” He pulls back from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips still and he adds a third finger. His hooded, dark gaze skates all over your face and body, watching your breasts heave with your breath as he fucks you open with his fingers.

“Wait-!” Your back arches, hands flying to grip at his shoulders, blunt nails digging in as his thumb flicks at your clit, the already intense pleasure spiking and you cum again. Changbin chuckles as he feels your tight gummy walls spasm around his fingers, and he helps you ride it out. He finally pulls his hand away from you once you’ve calmed, breath still a bit heavy. You watch with hazy eyes as he brings his wet fingers to hit mouth and obscenely sucks your essence off, groaning as he does it. With his still slick fingers, more from his saliva, he pumps his cock again and lifts your leg with his other hand and brings the head of his dick to your dripping core.

“Changbin~!” You whimper, hands reaching for him. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he starts to sink his fat cock into you, he lifts your other leg, and you once again wrap them around his waist. He goes slow, the searing heat stinging. He coaches you to breathe through it, and you wince a few times as he gets deeper.

“I-I don’t- I-I can’t-“ You pant out and he shushes you, laying gentle kisses over your face, his thumb going back to your clit. The pleasure of his finger working you eases the pain of him carving into you and you keep breathing. He knows he’s bigger than most, and when he finally bottoms out, he swears he can see a slight bulge in your lower stomach, outlining where his dick sits inside.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” He lets out a breathy chuckle. He feels your nails in his skin ease up and you move to wrap your arms around his neck, leaving behind crescents in his skin, but he by no means minds.

“You’re doing so good for me, (Y/N). You’re taking me so well, love, don’t worry, it’ll feel good soon.” Changbin whispers sweet things to you as your body gets used to him, he uses that as a way to distract him from the hot vice of your core. He’s holding back so much so he doesn’t just plow into you, he doesn’t want- he can’t hurt you. It pains him to see you even a bit uncomfortable, but it’s worse that he’s the cause of it, but he assures you it’ll be worth it.

“Y-you can…move…” You whimper, hips twitching, and only a very slight burn is still present.

“I’ll go slow, my love.” He kisses your cheek, his hand grabbing yours and as he leans down over you, his fingers weave through yours, holding your hands up by your head. You tighten your legs around him and he pulls out slowly, only an inch or two, and it feels like he’s sucking all of your air out of you. Your head swims, but the sharp burn only heats your body further. As he sinks back in, he grinds down into you, your clit brushing against his groin and you let out a sharp whiny moan, fingers in his tightening.

“Does that hurt?”

“N-no-! P-please, keep going~” You whimper, and he smirks, knowing your start to feel good as well. He slowly pulls out again, only a bit further, then sinks back in again, your pussy sucking him in letting out an obscene wet noise.

“You’re so wet~” He chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours, nuzzling. You giggle breathily, then wheeze out another moan as he keeps moving, pace still slow. You appreciate him making sure you’re ready and used to him, but the pleasure is taking over fast, and you need more.

“Changbin, please, more~” You mewl, and his hands tighten their grip on yours.

“I don’t want to hurt-“

“You’re not, you’re not I swear, please, need more-!” You nearly squeal when he picks up the pace, rapidly building. You’re moaning loudly now, not able to hold back, and the wood frame raising the bed up starts to creak. His breathing is heavy over you and he’s grunting with each thrust, the fat head of his cock battering against your cervix over and over. Your cunt is so tight and hot around him, he’s starting to lose control, wanting to fuck you stupid. He originally wanted to make love to you, sweetly, but your tiny squeaks and fucked-out expression is tainting his thoughts. Something about your delirium and whimpers makes him want to ruin you.

Changbin’s fingers weaved through yours leave, and he instead wraps them around your wrists and pins your hands up over your head. He holds them there with one hand, the other going to your left thigh, and you gasp when he moves to hook your knee over his elbow, shifting the position so his cock somehow buries further into you, the fat head pounding your sweet spot.

“A-AH-!” Your entire body jerks and twitches, cunt spasming around him as you cum again, slick spurting out from you and he laughs.

“Fuck, you’re just beautiful (Y/N), so fucking perfect for me~” He lets your wrists go, but you leave them over your head, mind foggy as you let out little whimpers with each of his thrusts. He hooks your other leg over his arm, leaning over you, nearly folding you in half and starts to thrust hard and shallow. You’re air leaves you at the angle change and his hips stutter as your cunt clenches him tight.

“Gonna fuck you full, (Y/N). Gonna breed you, fuck a baby into you~ You want that, yeah~? Wanna have my cum, have my baby~?

“Yes~! Yes~ please, ah-!” Your cunt spasms again and he can’t hold back anymore, getting as deep as he can and pumps your womb full of his cum and the rapid heat searing into you sends you over the edge as well.

As you both come down from your highs, he catches his breath faster than you do. He looks down at you with a soft smile, your eyes closed as your chest heaves, body limp on the bed under him. You hum softly when he leans down and kisses you, then hugs you when he pulls back, rolling over so you’re laying on top of him, his softening cock still sitting inside you. You feel yourself already starting to fall asleep as he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head.

“You were loud, love~” He huffs a laugh, and you hum sleepily.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asks softly and you hum again.

“I wanted to be gentle, but…”

“But?”

“I’ve wanted you since the day we met…so I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

“Can I tell you a secret too?”

“Of course, love~”

“I’ve wanted you that long too.”

hwarang - a group of young noblemen that became somewhat like educated knights in the royal palace from around the 6th century to the 11th. hwarangdo - leaders of groups of nangdo. nangdo - lowest members of the hwarang hierarchy and would form groups led by the hwarangdo. Wonsanghwa - the first officer of the hwarang who is in charge of training in martial arts and combat. sangseon - training offices of the hwarang. gukseon - a chief officer of the hwarang. unni - older sister to a girl. Gongjunim - formal address for a princess. gongju - princess honorific. chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. pong - also known as a bo stick used in martial arts, typically made of wood. shinshi - designation for the ancient Korean hours of the Monkey which is about 3-5 pm. aigo - kind of like an exclamation like "sheesh" or "geez", still used in modern times. goreum - the ties that fasten the top of a hanbok. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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[kitts-mechanix]

You know it's funny you mentioned Armada because I am going CRAZY figuring out Armada!Arcane and her dynamic with Starscream....and I haven't even watched a flippin' episode yet. But there is SO MUCH potential for some deeper relationships and angst and just....I cannot wait! Death/revive/mind control angst? I'm gonna be BASKING in this! I know for a fact I'm doing Armada after G1. I don't know if I will watch the Unicron series in its entirety (I heard Energon was really bad and Cybertron....okay I heard Cybertron is a hoot and the characters have fun accents but the CGI/hand drawn anime blend is....weird? I don't want to knock on the CGI too hard as it was the 2000s but I don't understand why they couldn't be consistent?) but Armada? I hear it's really good. Granted I'm gonna watch it for Starscream but we'll see if it emotionally pulls me in. I also have lots of darker lore that would fit like a glove in IDW or even Skybound 👀(though I'm afraid most of that kind of falls on my human OC Raven who becomes a half-Cybertronian and all the moral dilemma and angst that goes with it....but there will be plenty of Starcane too)

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[ambarraquel]

Okay, since Episode 3 is out, I want to share what’s been on my mind since Season 1. I don’t know if this is possible or logical, but it’s about Irving.

This might turn into a rant 🤣. But keep reading—I promise it makes sense in a LUMONesque way.

1. We know severance is mostly irreversible, and Rhegabi just confirmed how hard it is to send messages between the innie and outie.

2. So how does outie Irving recognize that elevator?

Thanks to Felicia, we now know it’s “The Exports Hall,” where Optics & Design used to handle shipments directly. But if Irving has never been there, how does he know about it? It makes no sense for him to just know.

And then there’s his connection with Burt—it feels so deep, almost like it transcends severance.

What if Irving has been at LUMON longer than he remembers? The severance procedure can selectively erase memories, and we already know about the past MDR Refinement Calamity that LUMON may have distorted to create the lore and keep the departments separated. The most important thing is that MDR is curiously the center of all that weird lore!

Now, the OTC escape plan/MDR Microdat Uprising of Irving Mark Dylan and Helly has become new lore with the whole claymation thing—which we know has been spread to other innies, at least to some extent, because of the new employees Mark briefly shared as coworkers. What if that alleged cannibalistic assault from the paintings actually happened?

Maybe the exports elevator area was so successful that they decided to utilize it in different forms—thus the cannibalistic revolt. LUMON could have devised a whole plan, making that revolt happen as they tried to crack the technology enough to create Mrs. Casey. (Or maybe the revolt was an accident that led them to the technology behind her.) So maybe that place beyond the hall exists because LUMON had to devise a place for trial and error? Maybe employees involved in the cannibalistic revolt were wiped and “reset” down there? Maybe LUMON was experimenting with early severed chips?

We know for sure that down there is where they keep Miss Casey in storage. If LUMON can erase memories with severance, it makes sense they could also erase people or keep them in a state of suspension. So if Irving has been there before, maybe something happened to him—maybe he was even kept there as punishment. Maybe that was an early Break Room. Whatever it was, it must have been such a strong memory that, even without fully understanding it, it pushed him to take LUMON down.

Which brings me back to Irving and the plausibility of his remembrance.

1) What if he was originally in Optics & Design and met Burt over and over again, kept falling in love, and they went to the Exports Hall for work early on? So he was familiar with it, but didn’t expect to be exported himself. Maybe one of his last, most emotional memories was that black hall, which is why he remembers it. Maybe LUMON erased them multiple times because they wouldn’t allow it—or maybe they even knew each other as outies and chose to have their memories wiped. Maybe that’s why Burt followed Irving in his car—because he actually knows his outie—but that seems more convoluted 🤣.

2) Another theory of mine is that maybe Irving was part of the original cannibalistic revolt of MDR. I’d love to believe he also met Burt at that time, and he somehow survived and chose to have his memories reset rather than be fired—because that would mean living in a world where Burt was also in it, even if he couldn’t remember him. And maybe Burt was also reset?

So, the only explanation that makes sense to me for outie Irving remembering that elevator is that he’s been there before, but his complete experience was erased—except for that one lingering image of the elevator.

(And yes, I know the much simpler explanation is that someone from a Let’s Take Down LUMON secret society could’ve shown him that picture, and he’s painting it over and over because he’s part of an effort to take LUMON down. But honestly, that’s too simple—it takes the fun out of it 🤣.)

[bestworstcase]

I hope I’m not weird or offensive for thinking this that Oz and the GoL relationship has abuse undertones. I go as far as it reminding me of sexual violence. The violation of bodily autonomy, lack of informed consent, using someone else’s body for one’s personal use, sense of domination from the perpetrator, the victim having a fucked sense of self and self-hatred. The GoL is also Salem’s abuser who violated her autonomy and consent so it’s not out of character for him. RWBY has handled similar topics like Adam and Blake so it’s not like uncharted territory. I even seen ppl claim that the Curious Cat has similar undertones considering what they did to Neo.

"undertones"--even in the extremely biased narration of the lost fable, jinn, telling the story as ozpin understands it, draws an overt equivalency between the god of light and SALEM'S FATHER. you know,

What more could a man want? Just one thing: a son and heir. When his wife became pregnant, the whole castle rejoiced. But soon the lord’s fortune reversed. His beloved fell ill, gave birth to a baby girl, and lost her own life in the process. The lord locked his daughter in the highest tower of the castle and retreated to his chambers to grieve. Only he and the girl’s nanny were allowed in or out of her tower room, on punishment of death. Many weeks passed before the lord visited his baby girl for the first time, and he refused to hold her no matter how much the nanny encouraged or even begged him to. Over the years, his daily visits grew shorter. Then they became visits two or three times a week. By his daughter’s eleventh birthday, he was visiting only once a week. “Why must I stay in this tower?” the girl would ask him. “I am protecting you from anything or anyone that might harm you. You are the most precious thing in the world to me. I could not bear to lose you.” He brought her food and presents: dresses and hairpins, brushes and dolls, but nothing that she could use against him or to take her own life. [...] Meanwhile, miserable and alone, the lord’s sorrow gradually twisted into resentment. He raged against the unfairness of the gods and took out his anger on his staff. He became obsessed with increasing his wealth, as if money could replace the love of his life, increasing land taxes on his tenants and cutting his staff’s wages. Paranoid about losing all he cherished, he dismissed half of his servants and replaced them with trained soldiers to protect his riches and defend his castle. By the girl’s sixteenth birthday, the king was visiting only once a month, whenever the whole moon was visible from her tower window. “This was your mother’s favorite place in the castle,” he told the girl. “She loved gazing out that window.” “And now it is my prison,” the girl said. “You aren’t my prisoner. You’re my daughter.” “Then let me go,” she begged. “I cannot. Someone would abduct you and demand a ransom,” the lord said. “Or worse.” But the girl realized that the lord did not love her as a parent loves a child. Rather, he thought of her as just one of his treasures, to be jealously hoarded like his gold and jewels. […] “What is it?” the knight asked. “What else would make you happy, my dear?” Freedom, she thought. But she bit back the word, for that kind of talk made him angry and violent.

the man who was so viciously abusive that this is how ozpin depicted him in a sanitized fairytale account of what happened.

note, for emphasis, that by the time salem was eleven she was so actively suicidal that her father had to vet every object that went into her room against the risk that she might try to kill herself with it, and he didn't care.

ozma modeled beacon academy after salem's father's castle and put the headmaster's office at the top of the tower—in her cell. whether or not he could actually articulate this feeling consciously, deep down he regards the god of light as an abusive parent too powerful to defeat or escape. and we have seen, with light, that he becomes angry and violent whenever something doesn't go his way and that his immediate, first reaction to one of his creations doing anything he doesn't approve is brutal murder. he tears jabber apart, incinerates ozma, bites salem, shrugs when his brother vaporizes mankind. his ultimatum for remnant is "obey me or die." there's no undertones he is explicitly abusive toward everyone he comes into contact with including his brother.

[littlestsnicket]

random armand focused iwtv thoughts and headcanons with absolutely no fandom wank this time:

i think armand is actually probably a really good teacher. he was certainly successful at teaching louis to use the fire gift, and i think it dovetails nicely with his desire to provide service and his capacity for levelheaded severity and dominance. (which he does have--the evil trauma gremlin is a separate trait and doesn't usually get triggered when teaching)

fucking obsessed with the park bench scene. louis sitting there in the rain with an umbrella in his lap, looking at armand, looking at the umbrella, and being like "i'm a bit wet". he's feeling that out, seeing how armand responds to this power dynamic before they have the rest of that conversation. like... this is calculated, louis knows and is telegraphing what he wants from armand, and armand is so eager to give it. it makes me insane. obsessed with their dynamic. truly obsessed.

and the scene before louis is going to give madeleine the gift... i actually don't think armand takes poorly to having his boundaries respected. i don't think armand is quite that fucked up (or more accurately, he is that fucked up, but has a good understanding in at least some parts of his brain about exactly how fucked up he is even if he has some weird cognitive dissonance about it, and is able to rationally interpret that as a good thing in that moment, even if it puts him off balance). what armand takes poorly is louis being wrong. louis took responsibility for something and couldn't actually handle it and that totally undermined armand's sense of safety in their relationship. which is obviously not reasonable or healthy, but i think makes a lot of sense for armand and his decision making process.

i'm also really attached to the idea that armand has a good working knowledge of modern risk aware BDSM practices. he has the internet. and as much as louis and armand don't have many (hardly any) actual peers and are therefore wildly codependent, i think they both have a ton more casual contact with people than they appear to in the dubai interview. i think louis is coming out of a particularly bad depressive funk so temporarily doesn't have much contact with the outside world, and showing himself to have outside contact doesn't serve armand's narrative. anyway, i think armand has been to his fair share of kink clubs.

i think a large part of why lestat lets louis go with armand in the tower is because he believes (correctly, at least in this case; that is literally the least convincing yes i have ever heard when louis asks armand if he saved him) that armand is not a very good liar so if louis doesn't believe lestat saved him, it's primarily because louis doesn't want to. armand is great at controlling a narrative, significantly less great at flat out lies.

armand functions, structurally, as a femme fatale in a detective story. he's exactly as simultaneously shady, secretive, tragic, and alluring as he seems to be--the reveal is just that he's done something worse, but still totally in character, than we thought.

loumand from louis' perspective: i loved you in paris, i'm not sure if i love you now or am just scared of being alone. sometimes i can work with that and things are good, other times i think i'm betraying claudia's memory by being this close to you and am going to punish both of us for it. a lot of the time i'm clinically depressed in a way that actually has very little to do with you, but you're such a martyr you can't see that and sometimes i crave the resulting attention and subservience and other times it makes me sick with both of us.

[shitty-proendo-blackout-posts]

I’m going to preface this by saying i am against faking disorders and therefore anti endogenic “systems” but can you genuinely explain why you believe that endos are valid./srs i just wanna know your thought process

- the vast majority of endogenic systems arent claiming to have a dissociative disorder. and the ones who do arent claiming to have no trauma whatsoever, just that the trauma didnt cause their system to form. (or theyre being really pedantic about the word "usually" in the dsm5 but i can only think of one person who does that). i dont think that counts as faking a disorder.

- i also dont think its hurting anyone for people to have an experience thats vaguely similar to a disorder without having said disorder.

- i try to respect people's beliefs, even if i dont understand or agree with them. even if i didnt believe endogenic plurality was a thing, i still would respect people who do believe it. because in my opinion, it harms nobody. im not going say that im anti-past life therians just because i dont believe in reincarnation, or put anyone religous on a dni because i dont think that any higher power exists.

- and speaking of: werewolf therians arent faking clinical lycanthropy. undeadkin arent faking cotards syndrome. so following that logic, nontraumagenic systems arent faking did/osdd. [I am not trying to use either of these disorders as a "gotcha", I am just explaining the mindset I have. But if anybody with clinical zooanthopy or cotards syndrome would like me to delete this part, please let me know and i will do so immediately. /srs]

- the brain is weird. multiple identities/selves/whatever without childhood trauma probably isnt the weirdest.

- also i might be misremembering but arent theyre multiple authors who have said that they can actually talk to and/or hear their characters? i highly doubt every single author who has experienced that has did and introjects of their characters and just doesnt realize it.

i hope at least some of this makes sense 👍

[yourlovelywriter]

Mine to have (Yandere Agatha harkness x reader) part one.

Idek man… I hope yall like it. :)

I don’t prof read cause idc. Good luck understanding you might need it. 🙏

(Warnings— yandere behavior, rough handling, blood, jealousy, unusual gifts, sexual behavior, Lustful intent… kidnapping.)

Also sorry for the long beginning.:(

It was late at night when you were organizing the books at the library. It was unfortunately your average evening. Not that you hated being a librarian, I mean you loved the silence and the ambiance, but when night hits it’s like a whole other world, a weird one.

Up until now the night shift has been fine, no problems or issues. But for the past few days it’s like someone has been watching you, you feel eyes on you when your back is turned, you see shadows out of the corner of your eye, and you hear noises.

Overall it’s creepy as hell. And the non working lights in the library don’t help.

When you hear a noise you jump. You freeze a moment before turning to look in the direction of the sound. Seeing nothing you grab your phone for a light and you slowly walk down the aisle of bookshelves.

Looking down you see a book on the floor, “What the hell?” You mumble and bend down to pick it up. “I am watching you…” you whisper as you read the cover. Totally not creepy.

You look around for where the book fell of the shelve but there’s no empty space. Confused you look around the area but nothing. You walk back to your desk and set the book down with a sigh. The good thing is you’d only have to be there for another hour.

Surly enough, nothing else happened during the hour and you finally locked up and left.

The next day you wake up to a text.

Emily/boss: hey, I know you just worked night shift but Caroline never came in this morning and I need help. Can you come?

You groan and throw yourself into your pillow. Of course you wanted to stay home and sleep. But you sort of have a crush on Emily and you don’t want to disappoint her.

Y/n: yeah sure, not a problem. I’ll see you there! :)

Throwing your phone down you sigh annoyed. Looking around you realize you haven’t really done laundry. You walk to your dresser and see a cute knee length dress. You pair it with some colorful tights, boots, a scarf, and your jewelry of course.

Making your way to the door you throw on a coat and grab your phone and keys.

Once at the little library you set your stuff down and see Emily. “Emily! I’m here. I can see why you needed some help. There’s a lot of people in here today.” You say as you look around. There really is a lot of people. It’s weird really.

“I know right, we hardly ever have one person walk in, let alone 20 people…” Emily laughs and looks around. “Right, well, I’ll go to the counter to check people out if needed.” You say and move over to your chair. As you turn on your computer you notice the book from last night still on your desk.

A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at it. Suddenly a voice draws you out of your trance and you look up quickly. It’s a tall woman, dark brown hair, piercing eyes, and a grin on her face.

“Hello dove, I’m not interrupting am I?” Her voice is smooth, welcoming even. “O-oh of course not, I was just.. looking at something- it doesn’t matter. What can I do for you?” You stamper out quickly, slightly embarrassed.

“Well, dove, I’m trying to grow my knowledge, if you will, expand my horizons. But I just don’t know where to start.” She practically purrs out. He voice sends a shiver down your spine but you try not to lead into it.

“Of course what books are you interested in?” You question and she smirks. “Well I was thinking romance maybe.. do you have anything that’s worth my time?” Her eyes scan you up and down, committing it all to memory. You clear your throat before responding

“Of course there’s some in the back if you’d like me to show you, Mrs…”

“Oh! Agatha, Agatha Harkness… and it’s Ms. Not Mrs, dove.” She responds and you blush.

“Of course, my apologies. But if you’ll follow me I’ll take you to the back.” You say standing. Leaving your phone and wallet behind. “We have a variety of romantic novels. We have cliche romances, hallmark style, hmm.. we also have some more on the obsessive style if that’s more your thing.”

“Oh you have no idea” Agatha reply’s with a smug grin. “I like this one.., it looks like a good book. Don’t you think Y/n ?” She asks and picks up a dark romance book. One about a young woman who’s taken hostage by her boss and falls in love.

“Oh, yeah sure.. I haven’t read it but it’s got great reviews.” You say shyly. Then your brows furrow. “How do you know my name?” You question. Agatha passes for a moment but then laughs, “it was on your name tag silly.” Calming down a bit you blush. “Oh sorry..”

Agatha’s eyes look at your body with an intensity that could only be described as hunger. She swallows hard before moving closer to whisper something.

“Hey Y/n there’s a line at the counter!” Emily yells suddenly. Stopping Agatha in her tracks. She scowls before composing herself.

“I’m so sorry, if you’d wait a second I’ll come help you..” you whisper to Agatha and rush to the front counter. Emily smiles at you and rubs your shoulder as you sit down.

Agatha takes note of this and doesn’t like it one bit. How dare she, how dare that insignificant being lay their hands on something that was hers?! It was anarchy.

After dealing with the line Emily asks you to go for lunch. Completely forgetting Agatha you agree. “Sure I’ll come. Let me just grab my phone and wallet.” You rush to grab your stuff but your phones gone. “Huh… I could have sworn I placed it here somewhere…” you mumble.

“Looking for something?” A low voice comes from behind you. You jump slightly and cover your mouth. “Oh gosh, you scared me..” you cover your heart.

“Oh I’m sorry dove, I didn’t mean to” Agatha rubs your cheek with her finger. Her eyes look down to your lips and she smiles slightly. “I’m looking for my phone yeah..” you respond slightly nervous and you back up a bit.

Agatha’s smile fades at your move and her hands start to reach for you but she clinches her fists. “It wouldn’t happen to be this one would it?” She asks and holds up your phone. You look surprised.

“Yeah it is where did you find it?” You let her set it in your hands.

“Oh it was on the bookshelf where we were talking dove, you set it there before we were..” she paused for a moment then her voice hardens a bit, “rudely interrupted” she finishes.

“Right well… thanks for bringing it back. But we’re closing for lunch so..” as you walk to the door and open it for her to leave she doesn’t move.

Her smile is thin and doesn’t reach her eyes, “we? Whose we” she asks sort of demandingly. You stand confused a bit but you soon reply. “Me and the manager. But I’ll open back later if you wanna stop by.” You stand waiting for her to follow you out. She smiles at your words then walks out.

“Of course I’ll come by then.. but what restaurant are you going to…” Agatha says suddenly. You look up at her.

“I don’t know.. whatever Emily chooses i guess.” Her face hardens again. “Ah Emily yes.. she’s the object of your affection I suppose” her voice holding back venom. She quickly puts on a smile and leaves, “I’ll see you later dove.” You finally sigh and shut and lock the doors. “How unusual” you mummer as you walk to Emily’s car.

“Sorry, a customer was holding me up..”

At the restaurant you and Emily hit it off. You really do like her. Her smile, her laugh, personality… she has it all.

“Im so glad you came with me. I’m having a wonderful time” Emily says tenderly as she places her hand onto yours rubbing gently. You blush.

Agatha never did come to the library later that night. But you didn’t think about that much. Only the fact Emily was acting interested.

At your apartment you walk in and throw your stuff down. “Fuck that’s heavy” you grunt as it hits the floor. You walk into the kitchen and realize the light is on. “Shit i must have left it on.. now the light bills gonna be high. Just what I need.” Switching it off you grab a cookie off the counter and go sit in the living room with the tv on.

Suddenly your phone buzzes. “Who is texting at this time of night?” You whisper annoyed, though secretly hope it’s Emily.

Unknown: why would you do this to me.

Your brow furrows and you look confused.

Y/n: who is this and how did you get my number?!

You type quickly.

Unknown: you dare let another woman touch you, to laugh with you when you know what that does to me!

“What the fuck..” you mutter.

Y/n: look if this is a joke it isn’t funny.

Unknown: I love you Y/n, I really do, and it pains me to know you would see another woman. Which is why I have to do what I needed to do a year ago.

You stare at your screen shocked. Who the hell was this?! And what were they talking about?!

Y/n: what do you mean?!?

Y/n: hello!?!

No reply, nothing. You set your phone down and decide you need to calm down.. you start to worry about what this person meant by, “do what I needed to do a year ago.”

You lay in bed and start to relax a bit. Not wanting to think about it. And just as soon as you close your eyes the door creaks. Your eyed shooting open. A tall figure is standing in your door.

Okay so… this is a part 1 I guess. I don’t want to leave it like this but do you guys want me to add more?