#i was looking for something on Cecily!

[wonder-worker]

“Women's efforts to provide for their younger sons and daughters often brought them into conflict with their oldest sons. As heirs, eldest sons frequently resented provisions for their siblings that reduced or burdened their inheritances. Mothers' efforts to provide for their younger children were particularly threatening to their eldest sons when they were heiresses and had power to dispose of their own property, but men's provisions for their widows also caused trouble between women and their sons. Indeed, husbands' provisions for their widows usually represented a much heavier burden on the family's estates than their bequests to their younger children. Furthermore, widows' dowers and jointures often interfered with the heir's power over his inheritance for years... Disputes about the provision for widows and women's efforts to secure the welfare of their daughters and younger sons often became intertwined when women served as their husbands' executors.

All of these factors played a part in the bitter quarrel between Cecily, dowager marchioness of Dorset, and her eldest son Thomas, the second marquess. In 1504, Lady Cecily, who was her father, William Lord Bonville's, sole heir and the executor of her husband's estate, announced her intention of marrying Lord Henry Stafford,  the duke of Buckingham's younger brother. Stafford, who paid 2,000 to Henry VII for permission to marry her, obviously expected the match to be a profitable one. The young marquess was understandably concerned about the effect the marriage would have on his inheritance, given the legal rights his mother's new husband would acquire over her and her property. The dispute escalated until Henry VII intervened. The settlement they signed after appearing before the king's council permitted Cecily to continue as her first husband's executor despite her remarriage. Under the terms of his will, she would receive the income from the estates he wanted set aside to pay his debts. However, she would not receive her dower until the debts were paid and she had turned the property over to her son. In addition, the council severely limited Cecily's power to dispose of her own inheritance: after her death, she had to bequeath all of it to Thomas; until then she could grant only lands worth up to 1,000 marks a year, and then only for a limited period of years. The obvious intention was to prevent the marchioness from permanently endowing her new husband at the expense of her eldest son. Her rights as an heiress were severely limited in his favor and, in a larger sense, in favor of the institution of primogeniture.

  By 1522, Lady Cecily and her son were openly feuding once again, this time about provision for her younger children. As a result of Cardinal Wolsey's mediation, they signed another elaborate agreement. Each of them promised to contribute to the dowries of the marquess's four sisters, while in addition Cecily agreed to create annuities from her estates for three of her younger sons.”

- Barbara J. Harris, “Property, Power, and Personal Relations: Elite Mothers and Sons in Yorkist and Early Tudor England"

[voidedjuice]

i'm still in slugmode but you can have some regular drawings about my normal feelings toward gloves

[fat-fem-and-asian]

photos for next week's episode!

[nobodieshero-main]

now i just wanna go write the mahina woods scenes....

[wingedhallows]

prank gone wrong; marauders (sirius black)

pairing: marauders (sirius black) x reader | 2.1k words plot: the marauders prank one of your best friends, you're not too happy about it and take matters into your own hands, just to have one of them a bit smitten by you. authors note: hi, i brewed this up last night. I don't really know what this is but i hope u like it :) <3

navigation

“I forgot my textbook, fuck.” Amelia complained, hand on her forehead. You sighed and pushed your sunglasses up, squinting your eyes at her. You took a drag from your cigarette and spoke with a sigh.

“I’ll get it for you, I need another pack anyways.” She waved her hand, as if to swat your offer away. “You don’t have to.” She tried but you shook your head and lifted yourself to your feet. You took your ropes off, it was too hot anyways. “Just shut up.” You offered with a grin.

Without waiting for an answer you took off. It would be a rather long walk, the Slytherin dorm was the furthest away. You needed some time away from your the girls and a new pack of fags. 

Amelia, Philippa and Cecily were nice, not to misunderstand but they were shallow. Still you strangely loved them, how carefree they seemed. 

Their newest topic to gossip about was if Marlene Mckinnon had gotten a nose job over the summer break. She didn’t, not that you cared. She looked fine, just like she did the past five years.

You didn’t know her though, you didn’t know any Gryffindors to be honest, so you didn’t have any ground to speculate. 

The only Griffyindor you knew was Lily Evans. A muggle-born witch, not that that changed anything about her abilities.

She was kind, shy and had hung around with the infamous Marauders. Four boys who liked to play pranks on many. You didn’t care much, they never targeted you.

On your way back, your pack of cigarettes in your pocket and Amelia’s textbook in hand, you watched the sky, birds gliding above your head. You pushed a cigarette between your lips and lit it.

The smoke filled your lungs with a comforting feeling. You heaved a sigh and blew some more smoke through your lips. You wondered what they would talk about next? A poor Hufflepuff’s boobs or a Ravenclaws fake behavior to suck up to Slughorn?

You wouldn’t complain though, no matter how shallow they were, they were still your friends. They took care of you, cared for you and did their best to be good friends, since the first year they were all you had.

You caught sight of the courtyard and the blanket you had spread out to study on. The girls sat, laughing and talking. With another drag from your cigarette you flicked the stud away and made your way to the three.

“Here you are.” Philippa smiled at you. She patted the spot next to her and Amelia reached for the book in your hands.

“Thanks.” She smiled at you and you gave a smile back. “No problem.” 

“This is so good.” Cecily smiled and drank a bit more from a cup you never saw before.

“What’s that?” You asked as you leaned back, taking the sun in. “Iced coffee." She answered, her words slurred the tiniest bit. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay, Cici?” Amelie asked as he placed her hand on the girl's shoulder who just nodded with a content grin on her lips.

She seemed… drunk?

“What’s up with her?” Philippa whispered as she looked at you, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where’d you get that, Cici?” You tried but she kept drinking.

“She went to the toilet a few minutes ago and came back with the drink in hand. I figured she got it from the kitchens or something.” Amelia said, face worried.

Without much thinking you took the drink from Cecily and looked her straight in the eyes. “Who gave this to you?” She frowned but needed a moment to form the words in her mouth.

“Pot..Potter.”

She stammered and hot rage burned through your body. You never cared much about their pranks but to target a kind, loving girl who minded her business better than anybody else was infuriating.

You threw the cup to the ground and lifted yourself off the ground. “Get her some water, I’ll take care of this.” 

Amelia nodded and rummaged through her bag for a bottle. Philippa caressed Cecily’s hair and gave you a tight nod. You walked as fast as you could manage, hands cold and features angry.

Students stepped out of your way, eyes wide as they watched you march through the corridors. You caught sight of some Griffyindors, Lily to be accurate. They were sitting on a bench, giggling with each other.

“Where are they?” You spoke, interrupting their conversation. Mckinnon turned around, eyes squinted at you, Lily watched you with wide eyes.

“Who?” She tried but you crossed your arms with a roll of your eyes.

“Those idiots you hang around with, Potter and the others.” Alice winced and threw her gaze to the stone ground.

“What did they do?” Lily asked again as she raised to her feet.

“They fucked with one of my friends and I’m not too happy about that.” Marlene’s face softened, her mouth opening to speak. “Who-”Cecily.” Lily threw a hand over her mouth with a gasp.

“But, she’s so sweet.” You nodded, jaw tightening.

“Yeah, well. Sweet Cecily is now sitting in the yard, drugged out of her mind because Potter decided it would be funny.” Alice frowned and got to her feet as well.

“That’s too far.” She said and you nodded. “So, tell me where they’re hiding.” Lily sighed and nodded.

“They’re in our common room, password’s Dilligrout.” You nodded and gave her a sad smile.

“Thank you, Lily.” She turned to you again and gave you one as well. “They went too far this time, to drug Cecily. You better teach them a lesson.” You nodded and turned to walk away.

“Let me know how she is, when you see her.” You looked at her, not sure what to answer. With a nod you said. “I will.”

Outside the Griffyindor dorm you threw the password at the picture and it opened, whispering things like snake in the common room, how odd.

The room was dimly lit, quiet but faint voices could be heard. With slow steps you emerged into the warm place. Some first years almost shrieked at the sight of you but you only gave them a nod towards the stairs. Without much thinking, they fled the scene.

The morons were splayed out on the chairs and couch, laughing to each other. They haven’t noticed you yet. So you thought to change that and with fast steps you made your way to the empty chair before the fire. The voices stilled, silence embracing you.

“Y/N.” Sirius, the pureblood run away whispered. You didn’t answer but instead plucked a cigarette from your pack and lit it quickly. Dramatic, but who cares.

“I always knew that you lot had a knack for stupid pranks, I mean who doesn’t know.” You paused to take a drag. Potter sat himself up, Peter hadn’t moved since he watched you appear, face contorted in fear.

“But to drug someone in broad daylight, that's another level of idiotic.” James seemed to catch on and fumbled with his hands.

“What is it to you, who we prank?” You barked a laugh as you leaned forward. Remus couldn’t look you in the eyes, Sirius stared at you, not moving a limb.

“You don’t even care who you prank, now?” James sighed and crossed his legs, his arms crossed. 

“Let me enlighten you, Potter. Cecily Santoro, who you pranked is a very kind soul, one of my best friends, limbing behind in herbology, deathly afraid of frogs and loves coffee with all of her heart. But you don’t care about any of that because she’s a snake, a vicious horrible Slytherin. So when you pushed that cup in her hand this afternoon, she couldn’t say no. 

She loves coffee too much to think twice about taking anything from a Marauder. She probably thanked you with a smile on her face and you had a good laugh, right?

Well, she’s drugged out of her mind, she’ll fail her herbology exam and cry a good week about it. But you wouldn’t care about that, because she’s just another Slytherin, a too good enough reason to pass up on pranking her.”

He didn’t answer, Remus sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. You blew some smoke and shook your head.

“I hope you lot are proud of yourselves. You’re not an inch better than Malfoy or Nott.” Sirius stood and pushed his hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” James whispered.

You chuckled and threw the done fag into the fire which hissed upon the impact. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.” Sirius took a step towards you, face in a sorry twist.

“We fucked up big time then?.” He said. His eyes dared you, to argue with him. To fuel what he felt in his core.

James hissed at Sirius. “What the fuck are you doing?” He now stood in front of you.

“What do you want then?” His hands crossed he looked at you, eyes devouring your frame. Remus stood and put a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. He swatted it away and proceeded to look at you.

“Apologize.” He nodded.

“You are all to apologize to Cecily or I’ll bring this matter to the headmaster.” James sighed and narrowed his eyes at you.

“So you’ll play your cards?” You had to chuckle. You pushed Sirius down onto the couch, faces mere inches apart. Sirius licked his lips, eyes swaying from your eyes to your lips.

“If I were to play my cards, you’d be expelled and not allowed to step even a toe back on school grounds, you daft idiot.” You gave him a small smile before you continued.

“Don’t think i don’t know the ridiculous rumors you guys spread about me but just to assure you, I might fulfill them soon if you anger me any more.” You patted his cheek and turned to leave. 

You turned around once more to face Sirius who watched you, his eyes bored into your face, he licked his lips as he watched you leave. Your eyebrows furrowed and you shook your head. 

Cecily was back to normal, Amelia and Philippa had taken her to the infirmary last night. Madam Pomfrey had complained on end but let her sober up nonetheless.

“I’m fine, really.” Cici threw Philippa a small smile and tried to snatch her bag from the taller girl. “Nuh uh.” She slapped her hand away and continued walking.

Just as you turned the corner four figures sprung to their feet. The Griffyindor boys walked up to you and obviously struggled to deliver the promised apology. You had to suppress a laugh at the sight of the four.

“What do you want?” Philippa snapped at them.

“We, umh, wanted to apologize for yesterday.” James begann.

“What we did was out of line.” Remus carried on.

“We regret it.” Peter almost whispered.

“After your dear Y/N gave us a good talking to, we apologize for what we did.” Sirius finished off. Cecily turned to you with a confused expression on her face.

You just shrugged and gave her a small smile. The girls didn’t answer but started walking.

You stayed behind and pushed a cigarette between your lips. Sirius was quick to raise his lighter to your lips.

“That was Oscar worthy.” You chuckled. James frowned and kicked with his feet before himself.

“Are we good now?” Remus tried but you huffed in amusement.

“Sure sure.” You puffed some smoke and took the cigarette to push it between Sirius’ lips. He stared down at you with darkened eyes.

“For the nerves.” You smiled.

He took a drag and blew the smoke above your head.

“You’re quite feisty.” You chuckled and patted his shoulder.

“First time for you?” He chuckled and took another drag. You took a step to leave them behind but Sirius was quick to hold onto your arm.

“Hogsmeade next friday?” He spoke, cigarette still hanging between his lips, some strands from his bun fell over his face and you would have to lie that you didn’t think he was attractive.

“Are you asking me out right now?” You asked with a grin on your face.

A grin formed on his face as he inspected your face.

“Will you?” You wringed your arm from his grip. You took a step towards him and took the cigarette from his mouth, took a drag and blew the smoke towards him.

“In your dreams, Black.”

He barked a laugh and watched you leave with the cigarette you had shared. Fuck, was he smitten.

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

Literally all of The Shadowhunter Chronicle romances are completely unhinged it’s not even funny (I lied, it’s very funny). Here’s just some examples:

William “Will” Herondale/James “Jem” Carstairs + Theresa “Tessa” Gray: It totally would have been a vee type polyamorous situation if it wasn’t for all the death and 1800s London society going on.

Henry Branwell + Charlotte Fairchild: How dare this misogynistic society put us together, I mean, we wanted to get together anyway, but not for those reasons. Welp, time to be as unconventional as possible.

Gabriel Lightwood + Cecily Herondale: Look, you made fun of my sister, it’s only fair that I marry your sister; that’s the rules.

Gideon Lightwood + Sophia “Sophie” Collins: Dad, I have a perfectly valid reason to betray you and go to the other side. What your doing is wrong and – nO tHiS haS nOThiNG to do wiTh tHeIR mAid wHy wOUlD yoU eVEn sAy tHat?

Jesse Blackthorn + Lucie Herondale: Your request to not be brought back to life has been denied, deal with it.

James “Jamie” Herondale + Cordelia Carstairs: He didn’t commit arson we were just having sex – why are you all looking at me like that’s worse?

Anna Lightwood + Ariadne Bridgestock: Listen, there’s a lot of society going on right now, so we’re going to have to get together in secret. Oh, you don’t want to? Okay, never mind, fuck society, let me win you back real quick.

Christopher Lightwood + Grace Cartwright: Oh good, you broke into my house, now we can talk about science.

Thomas Lightwood + Alastair Carstairs: I’d really like to hate you, but I think the biggest problem with that is that I love you. Once I get over that hurdle, I think we’ll be in the clear.

Lucian “Luke” Graymark + Jocelyn Fairchild: Good job on us for breaking away from the genocidal cult run by our best friend/husband; we should hook up, you know, as a reward.

Jonathan “Jace” Herondale + Clarissa “Clary” Fairchild: Ayo the same guy conducted experiments on our blood, that’s crazy; btw so glad we’re not actually siblings.

Alexander “Alec” Lightwood + Magnus Bane: Marrying each other is against the law? Okay, fine, I’m a law biding citizen. Oh oops, I made it legal. I am the law now, and I want a wedding on the beach.

Simon Lovelace + Isabelle Lightwood: It makes sense to have our engagement party on the day of my brother’s death, that’s when we really started bonding.

Helen “Alessa” Blackthorn + Aline Penhallow: Well, I guess we’re going to go in exile together. Yes, I said together; your exile is my exile, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, that’s how relationships work.

Julian Blackthorn + Emma Carstairs: Yes, it’s a technical war crime to love each other, but the law itself is not really our main concern about it.

Kieran Hunter + Mark “Miach” Blackthorn + Cristina Rosales: We’re really living that cottage core aesthetic, and all we had to do to get here was do a small war and some amnesia. Worth it.

Gwyn ap Nudd + Diana Wrayburn: I’m going to stand by just in case something happens, but it probably won’t, she knows what she’s doing – WHY IS SHE JUMPING OUT THE TENTH STORY WINDOW OH MY GOD WAIT

Tiberius “Ty” Blackthorn + Christopher “Kit” Herondale: We take cosplaying Sherlock and Watson VERY seriously, so of course we needed to go to all the most illegal places, it’s only natural.

Ash Morgenstern + Drusilla “Dru” Blackthorn: So anyway I saw them in a sort of fever dream like state this one time and they’ve still been on my mind for years.

[tuiccim]

Wrecked (Part 2)

Pairing: Alpha Frank Castle x Omega Reader, Alpha Billy Russo x Omega Reader

Trigger Warnings: References to infertility, smut

Summary: When Frank Castle found his way to your small town bar, you thought you had finally found your Alpha despite being a "wrecked omega" but when his best friend, Billy Russo, blows through town, your world tilts on its axis. You thought you found your happy ending but was it just more wreckage for your life?

A/N: Thank you to my beta reader and hype princess, @whisperlullaby

Wrecked Masterlist

Thursday night ended up being busier than usual with a large group coming in to celebrate… something. You never quite caught the reason. You were so busy tending the bar that you rarely looked up to see faces. It was nice to see the tip jar nearly overflowing towards the end of the night. 

You were pulling drafts for a couple of regulars when the door flew open and a grinning Cecily walked in as if she was a triumphant warrior returning from battle. You laugh and announce loudly, “Batten down the hatches! Hurricane Cecily is blowing through town!”

“Hey!” Cecily laughs as she hugs you, “The place looks great! How are you?”

“I’m great. I’m really good. Looking forward to hearing more about your adventures.”

“Yes, but for now, I need a drink!” Cecily drags you to the bar. 

“Let me guess… a blue motorcycle?” You smirk. 

“You know me so well,” Cecily grins.

“How was your trip?” You smile as you make her drink.

“Fabulous! Saw the sights, made some friends, and had some good times. Pissed my dad off to all hell and back because I refused the match he arranged,” she giggles.

“He should know better by now,” you laugh. Cecily’s father had won the genetic lottery when he, a beta, and her mother, also a beta, produced an Omega offspring. He had hopes of marrying her off to make connections and strengthen the family standing. What he hadn't planned on was her strong will and refusal to marry until she fell in love. It was something you envied about her and probably one of the things that had drawn the two of you together. She was an Omega that a family centered their hopes on which she refused to comply with and you were the broken Omega who had disappointed your family with your inability to comply. 

“No matter their designation, men are all the same. Hard headed and yet oblivious,” Cecily rolls her eyes.

“Can't argue with that. I-”

"Oh, Jesus. Here we go," Frank's raspy voice interrupts. 

"Hey Frankie," Cecily teases. 

“Welcome back. What trouble are you planning to get into?” Frank asks as he takes the stool next to her.

“All the fun kind,” she grins. 

“Oh, Cec, Frank's best friend is coming to town soon. You'll have to meet him. I have a hunch you two will be hilarious together,” you giggle as Frank narrows his eyes at you. 

“Don't give her any ideas. Those two would tear apart the town together,” Frank turns to Cecily, “And if you let him, your bed, too.”

“Well, I'm certain I can show him a good time while he's here," Cecily says slyly. 

"Heard from him yet?" You ask.

"Yep," Frank says with a withering glance at Cecily. "He'll be here tomorrow. Leaving Sunday night or Monday."

"I can't wait to meet him," you wink at Frank. 

Cecily gives him a wicked smile, "Your best friend must be so interesting. Tell me about him."

Frank looks up at the ceiling as if praying for help but, knowing Cecily won't give up easily, he gives a few details, "He's an Alpha. Owns a security company. Real smooth with the 'megas and isn't the kind anyone can pin down. Just your type."

"What are you trying to say, Frank?" Cecily narrows her eyes. 

"Nothin'," Frank gives a shit eating grin. 

"Mm-hm," Cecily sips her drink. 

"Okay, you two, enough. I've got the room ready for him and a bottle of booze waiting," you say as a fresh group comes through the front door, "Play nice while I deal with the newcomers."

You walked away unworried about the two. Despite the way they ribbed each other, they actually liked one another. Cecily held respect for the man who had seen the gem that is her best friend and Frank was grateful for the unwavering support she showed you. So, while they always had harmless barbs to lob at each other, there was a mutual respect shared. 

Occasionally as you poured drinks and served, you would glance over to see them conversing companionably. In one such moment though, your stomach dropped a bit seeing Cecily's hand on his knee as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. You shook the feeling away, knowing she would never do anything untoward, and relaxed even more when Frank laughed while shaking his head. She was probably making a comment she didn't want overheard. You berated yourself for being so insecure. Frank was a good man and, even if he did choose to leave you for an Omega without your hindrances, he would never hurt you in that way. He would tell you... or he would just disappear, which was one of your biggest fears. One day, you would wake up alone and every trace of your life together would be gone. 

Just the thought was devastating. You had never expected him to stay this long and now you were spoiled by the presence of an Alpha in your life. You shake the negative thoughts away. Frank is your Alpha and he is going to mate you. But even that thought came with doubts. Your mind wouldn't let you believe that he would really mate you. He had said it to comfort you. He hadn't really meant it. He wouldn't tie himself to a wrecked Omega for life. No Alpha would. 

"Hey! Can I get another one?" A voice pulls you out of your melancholy thoughts. 

"You got it," you smile at the man and pour. The night is busy for a Thursday but you manage to make it back over to Frank and Cecily after a while. 

"Frank has been filling me in on his friend. I can't wait to meet him," Cecily smiles. 

"Well then, he's given you more information than he's given me," you laugh with a wink at Frank. 

"That's not true. I've told you stories about Bill," Frank laughs. 

"I had pull teeth just for you to tell me his last name!" You assert. 

"That's highly personal information," Frank smirks. 

"What is his last name?" Cecily asks. 

"Now see what you've started!" Frank exclaims. You stick your tongue out at him and laugh as his face drops. "Oh, very mature," Frank grouses.

"I'm sure your thoughts were when I did it," you tease him, leaning over the bar to whisper the words. 

"You're gonna be using it tonight," Frank groans out and then grabs you by the back of the neck to lay a kiss on you. His tongue plunders your mouth before he releases you with a smirk. You knew you were in for it when you got home and you couldn’t wait. 

“Ugh, now I’m looking even more forward to this friend of yours coming. Maybe I can interest him in a little PDA,” Cecily pouts. “I’m heading out. See ya tomorrow.”

“Night,” you and Frank say in unison. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Frank asks. 

“No, it’s okay. Head to the cabin and rest. I’ll see you in a bit,” you reassure him. 

“Alright. Be careful,” Frank gives a backwards wave as he heads for the door. 

The cabin. You always called it that or the house, never home. Part of you was scared he would correct you if you did; the other part worried it would scare him away. It was a precarious place that you stayed mentally with Frank. A fine line you balanced between loving his presence and fearing his absence. Would you ever feel confident in his commitment?

Billy coming had to mean something. Frank wouldn’t introduce you to his best friend, the closest thing he had to family, if he didn’t have intentions of staying. Maybe it was because you felt like Frank always had his eye on the door, waiting for the moment he would have to leave or for his past to catch up to him. How much did you even really know about his past? Maybe meeting Billy would give you more insight into him. 

When the bar closed a couple of hours later, your bouncer, Jordan, walked you to your car. A precaution he insisted on since the incident with the drunken Alpha. You wondered at times if Frank had asked him (or threatened his life) to ensure you got to your car safely. He really was sweet in his gruff way. 

By the time you made it to the cabin, the windows were dark. The porchlight and a small lamp just inside the front door were on but the rest of the house was dark and quiet. You smile to yourself, remembering Frank offering to stay until closing. Obviously, you had made the right decision to send him home since he was already asleep. He worked hard and deserved the rest. 

You quietly make your way to the bathroom and quickly wash up. You peek out the door at him and a sliver of light falls over his body. His arms were curled behind his head, his bare chest rising and falling with slow breaths, and between his thick thighs his heavy cock laid. You lick your lips and feel a surge of disappointment that he’s not awake but then a wicked thought crosses your mind. He never shies from waking  you up by fucking you… maybe he wouldn’t mind the same treatment. After all, he had said you'd be putting your tongue to work when you got home and you didn't want to make a liar out of him.

Shedding your clothing, you make your way to the bed. The sliver of light from the bathroom still lays over him. When he first came to your house, he would wake at every noise or touch but over the months, he had relaxed and was actually a fairly deep sleeper. Leaning over him, you lick a stripe from tip to base. His cock jumps and he stirs but his eyes don’t open. You repeat the action bringing another small response from him. Taking him into your mouth, you work your way down his thick cock inch by inch, your hand wrapping around what you can’t fit. Frank makes a sexy groan as he flexes towards you, his eyes slowly open as you watch. He grabs your head and moves you slowly up and down. 

“Fuck, this’s the hottest way to be woken up,” he growls. “Couldn’t wait until the morning for this cock, huh, babe? Had to have it in you one way or the other?” 

You moan your agreement while hollowing your cheeks. Frank’s deep growling moans are making you wet and you squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure. 

“Goddamn, I can smell you. Getting wet from sucking this cock. Get up here. C’mon,” Frank uses his grip to pull you away from his cock and then up to straddle him. You immediately position him at your entrance and sink down, biting your lip to hold in your moan. “What’d I tell you about that?” Frank pulls your lip from your teeth. 

“Don’t,” you whisper. 

“I wanna hear every sound,” he insists. “Now, you wanted this cock so bad, let’s see what you do with it.” His smirk relays the challenge as he lays back, folding his hands behind his head. 

Never one to back down from such a challenge, you knew you had to make this good. You worked your hips to get every last inch of his thick cock inside of you. He was so thick that each drag of his cock was a direct hit to your g spot but he was in so deep there was a bite of pain when he hit your cervix. You ignored it as you rode him and eventually it lessened to a mere whisper of discomfort. Putting your hands on his chest, you leaned a little more forward to grind your clit against him and let out a long moan as the new angle hit even more pleasurably. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Frank groans and then flexes up into you. 

“Oh! Fuck,” you whimper. You move more quickly, squeezing him as you barrel yourself towards orgasm. Not worried anymore about living up to his challenge, that first spark had alighted in your belly and you chased it. 

Frank ran his calloused fingertips over your nipples, no longer content to be a mere observer. He squeezed and feathered over them while watching your face. His hips came up to meet yours and your mouth dropped open to let out a small cry. He repeated the motion until he saw that sweet look pass over your face. The one that told him you were too far gone to turn back and he held himself back from coming with you. He wasn’t ready to be done yet. 

“I’m coming,” you cried as the waves of pleasure took over. Your body spasms around him as you ride out the orgasm. 

“Atta, girl. Squeezing my cock so tight. Fuck,” Frank watches as you fall apart on top of him. When your orgasm had run its course, you stopped for a moment to catch your breath but it didn’t last more than a few seconds when a smack landed on your ass and Frank’s gruff voice said, “We ain’t done yet, ‘mega. You wanted this cock so bad, you woke me from a dead sleep. Now you gotta finish what you started. Move that ass.” 

The shit-eating grin on his face made you want to be just a little defiant. You pull off of him and he immediately protests, “Where do you think you're going, ‘mega?” 

Pushing him back down on the bed, you lean in to give him a small but potent kiss. “Trust me, Alpha,” you give him a seductive look before turning around and straddling him again in reverse. You work his cock inside of you again and then look over your shoulder, “You wanted to see me move that ass…”

You bounce on top of him, being sure to give him a full view of your ass cheeks as you fuck him. Frank loved your ass and was always grabbing, slapping, or finding some other way to get his hands on it. Somehow, you had never gotten around to this particular position with him and you could tell right away it wouldn’t be the last time. His hands shot out immediately to grope you, a smack landing only a few seconds later. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Frank growled, his hands never stilling as he watched you fuck him. He was mesmerized by the jiggle of your cheeks with each motion you made while seeing his cock splitting you open. He sucked his thumb into his mouth, wetting it before pressing it to your tight little hole. He rubbed back and forth, teasing just the tip against your ring of muscle, as you rode him harder and harder. 

“Oh, fuck, Alpha. It’s so good,” you whined. The angle was hitting your g spot and you could feel yourself building again. 

“That’s right,” Frank growls, landing another smack to your ass, “Good, little ‘mega. Just need this Alpha’s fat cock splitting you open, huh?”

“Yes!” Is the only word you can manage at this point. You were tiring but the pull of another orgasm and Frank’s words were enough to keep you going. You were dripping from his praise.

“Fuck!” Frank cries out before grabbing your hips and slamming up into you forcefully. He repeats the motion over and over again and you can’t hold in your scream when you come. Frank’s loud grunts as he releases inside makes you clench around him. He flexes a few more times while holding you in place against him. When he had calmed, he pulled out and then positioned you to lay next to him. “Thanks for the wake up call,” he chuckles in your ear. 

“My pleasure,” you laugh. “I think I’ve always known the answer to the question of whether you’re a boobs or butt man but I think tonight solidified it.”

“Ass man, all the way,” Frank’s laugh rumbles through his chest. 

“Shocking,” you tease.

“Mm-hm,” comes out quietly. 

You glance over your shoulder at him and see he’s already drifting back to sleep. You smile to yourself and listen for his breathing to even out before slipping out of the bed to clean up. Glancing back at Frank from the door, you shake your head at his ability to be fucking the life out of you one minute and then practically asleep the next. “I love you,” you whisper to his sleeping form, knowing you’d probably never hear those words from him. 

–

The next night, Friday, was busy as usual. Frank had sent a text that a water main break had delayed him and he’d be late making it to the bar. It made you a little nervous that you might meet Billy without him here but you try to brush it off and keep up with the crowd. Especially since your other bartender called out. You were glad Cecily had made an early appearance and you set her to work behind the bar with you. She was great at helping out in a pinch and genuinely enjoyed working the bar, as the tip jar showed. Her flirtation skills were on point as you watched her flip her hair and wink at a patron. She knew how to play them like a fiddle. 

She looked gorgeous. Her short, wavy hair fell over her forehead attractively, giving a peekaboo effect that was coquettish. Tight black jeans, boots, and a one shoulder green tank hugged her curves as she twirled a glass in her hand before pulling the tap. You smiled as your eyes followed her for a few moments and she sent you a wink when she caught your stare. 

You were in a lull when the smell hit you, something dark and woodsy and undeniably Alpha. You turned to find a stranger sitting at the end of your bar with his eye on you. His incredibly dark eyes seemed to bore holes right through you. He was handsome, lean but muscular, dark hair brushed back from his forehead in an undercut, and casual clothes that seemed tailor fit. He was dreamy for lack of a better word. Making your way over, you smile at the newcomer, “Well, hello there, stranger. What can I get for you?”

“Whiskey, neat,” the man says as he eyes you. 

“Any-”

“Top shelf,” he interrupts your question. 

Raising an eyebrow at him, you smirk, “I’m afraid this bar’s version of top shelf is Johnny Walker. You strike me as more of a Lagavulin man.”

His face cracks a smile that had probably dropped more than a few pairs of panties, “You’re good, but don’t worry, I’ll stomach the Johnny Walker just fine.”

“You got it, chief,” you turn to pour the drink. Setting it in front of him, you lean on the bar, “What brings you to town?”

“Visiting a friend,” he says as he glances over at Cecily as she puts on a show while making drinks. 

Following his line of vision, you grin, “She’s something, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Is she the owner?” 

“Mmm, excuse me,” you are distracted by another patron motioning for a refill. You quickly pour the drink and a few others before making it back to him. Pouring him a second drink, you breath in his scent covertly, “Ac-”

“So, do you ever take a customer home?” He gives you a smoldering look.

“Do you always interrupt people?” You counter. 

“Only when going after something I want,” his eyes take a lazy path down to your cleavage before flicking back up to your eyes. You lean in closer to him, lowering your voice conspiratorially you say, “Not really but just occasionally someone tall, dark, and handsome blows through and I find I just can’t resist.” His eyes darken as he studies you and you could read his thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud. “Oh, and to answer your earlier question, no, I’m the owner… Billy. Welcome to town.”

Part 3

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[raisedbythetv89]

OK.

ALRIGHT.

It’s official…I’ve gone insane but it’s all their fault for being such insanely talented actors who gave so much nuance to their performances

I hadn’t given this moment in “Crush” the attention it deserves but the reason it’s so important is this is the first time Buffy lays eyes on Spike after Dawn tells her Spike is completely in love with her and Spike is literally at her house charming her family and planning to ask her out on their first date NOT date aka the biggest and boldest move he has made in an attempt to move them from enemies to lovers

She’s been going on and onnnn about how sick and wrong it is and how freaked out she is about the idea of “the slayer” and “the slayer of slayers” in love since she found out BUT THEN SHE ACTUALLY LAYS EYES ON HIM AND SEES HIM FITTING PERFECTLY INTO HER FAMILY AND LIFE AND MAKING HER MOM SMILE AND HER SISTER FEEL NORMAL AND SAFE and she has this like soft shocked bewilderment and she’s looking to him like “care to explain why you’re sitting on my kitchen counter rn?” (them having secret conversations with just their eyes in front of her family makes me insane 😩) and not one single look of disgust that she’s been claiming to feel all day because she’s surprised and therefore her guards aren’t up

And he’s got his terrified deer in headlights look he gets every time he first sees her unexpectedly 😭

and it’s SO CUTE because he is so terrified and he knows this is lunacy and the idea of them is insane and makes no sense but still in his heart of hearts he is a brave, vulnerable romantic. Shooting his shot just like he did with Cecily because “fella’s gotta try” compared to Angel who stalked her for over a YEAR before introducing himself and was the most wishy-washy, bread crumbing mother fucker when it came to actually being with her and Riley who had to be told he liked her and then had to get a bunch of help from Willow before he even made a move. Riley and Angel are genuinely both cowards who want to play the hero but never truly had the courage to do so which is why they always infantilized and shamed/guilted Buffy into being smaller to make them feel bigger which is the CORE of why Spike is literally the only one of all of Buffy’s romantic interests worthy of her because of his bravery, despite knowing with the utmost certainty he will fail and get hurt over and over again, that doesn’t stop him from trying anyway. He’s the only one brave enough and tbh crazy enough to love Buffy Summers in the ways she both needs and deserves.

And I SWEAR the softness in her gaze and overall demeanor of dazed bewilderment and considering what she’s seeing in front of her just gives off this vibe to me that a part of her really likes the scene she’s walked into, the part of her Dawn represents that’s considering, again (but now with new light because I think she’s already considered it after “Something Blue”) what her life would be like if she dated Spike. It’s this TINY MOMENT of her girlhood that still exists under her slayer armor shining through - she’s seeing her (forbidden) crush after finding out she’s his (forbidden) crush too and he’s in her kitchen!! Making an effort with her family and he’s so CUTE and laughing and she basically classic Buffy swoons over a cute boy for just a second before her armor is back on and it’s actually too much for me

AND SPIKE uggghh 😭 he shifts sitting up taller like his inner William standing up when his lady walks in combined with his punk persona that meets every challenge head on but always with a bit of attitude and swagger. Already ready for the battle that is William the Bloody trying to love The Slayer.

This tiny moment of unspoken communication and body language perfectly encompasses what they both bring out in and give to each other and I’m obsessed. Spike brings out the abandoned young girl who is soft and vulnerable and just needs love and support and Buffy gives our brave, big-hearted, protective warrior looking for his place of belonging and people finally worthy of his love that he can care for and protect.

Am I insane for writing all of this about a 2 second clip? Yes, yes I am but this moment is IMPORTANT and it happens so quickly yet it contains so much and completely backs up what I already knew about this episode which was that the only reason Buffy was making such a big deal about Spike being in love with her is because she’s VERY attracted to him but that was so much easier to ignore before she knew the feelings were reciprocated. If she didn’t care about Spike she wouldn’t care about his feelings because they would be of no consequence to her but now…. her crush on her mortal enemy that’s killed two slayers wasn’t a big deal because it was literally never gonna happen…… suddenly could happen and she was SO unprepared for how to handle all of that and so overcompensating the entire episode and beyond 😹😹😹 because also it’s been well established how perceptive Spike is about how people are doing and what they’re feeling so when he says he knows there is something between them he’s not being delusional he is right on the money which freaks her out even more because how could he know about something she didn’t know about herself AGAIN 😹

[scythesms]

The sound of innocent bickering from the two youngest Ambroise children echoed throughout the overgrown yard, amusing the attentive ears of Edmund, who maintained a watchful eye over the playful children. Cecily sat beside her father and observed him in thoughtful silence with a gaze both curious and contemplative. 

Though she’d never been one to shy away from expression, Cecily often found her thoughts speaking louder than her words. She possessed a meticulous nature, in which she preferred carefully weaving her words into coherent thoughts before they were vocalized—a trait notably distinct from her unrestrained siblings. Eugene, driven by an impulsive desire to articulate every mean thought, seemed driven by a need to release his critical opinions from his mind as swiftly as they entered. Josiah, on the other hand, remained indifferent to how others perceived him, prioritizing his own understanding above all else—an attribute that irked those around him, particularly his reluctance to repeat or rephrase. Once spoken, his words stood no chance of being altered or corrected—something Elaine had picked up on. “Think before you speak, Elaine,” Cecily said at least twice a day in response to improper sentences like, “When I’m old, I’ll do a bakery and plant pies” and unreasonable questions that follow such as, “Why can’t I plant pies?”.

Similar to improper conversational etiquette, Cecily held a very low tolerance for stuttering and mumbling. It was like chalk grating a pristine slate to her ears. At her young age, she knew she preferred momentary silence in thought as opposed to stutters from faltering lips and vacant minds. And so she sat, dedicating time to piece her thoughts and curiosities together into a narrative that reflected her intentions precisely.

“Father,” she began, “may I ask you something?”

Edmund, attuned to the gravity of her tone, turned his complete attention to his daughter. Carefully, he said, “You can ask me anything.”

"I was thinking about your lady friend," she confessed. "How did you come to know her?"

Though he had anticipated this very question—wondering which one of his eldest children would broach the subject first—he resented it just as much. There’d been a time early on in his reconnection with Imogene where he had considered sitting his children down, offering them insight into her presence in his life, and disclosing his entire history with her. Yet, he had balked at the notion, second guessing the necessity of such a conversation. If she were merely a friend and there were no further intentions, then perhaps there was no need for an "explanation"... or so he had attempted to convince himself.

“I knew her when I was a young boy… just before meeting your mother. Imogene was… a part of my past.” 

He chose his words carefully. Cecily appreciated that, but it wasn’t enough. She pressed, “Did you love her? Imogene?”

Edmund’s shoulders sagged as he released a sigh before admitting honestly, “Yes, I did.”

He always thought discussing his past with Imogene to his children would stump him, and he’d be a sputtering lying fool. Yet, in that moment, he felt no such indulgence. The admission flowed with an unexpected ease—almost relieving.

A thoughtful pause lingered between them before Cecily ventured further, her voice barely above a whisper, "Did you love her more than my mother?"

He stared ahead. “No.” His response was swift and concrete. “Rosalyn—your mother… holds a place in my heart no one can surpass.”

Cecily was relentless. “Do you still love Imogene?”

“No.” It sounded so simple. 

“Could you love her again?”

He returned his attention to his daughter—her wide eyes void of resentment or detest. “Cecily–”

“I don’t think Mother would be upset with you for loving her again. She would want you to be happy.”

Exhaling softly, Edmund carefully watched Cecily—a reflection of her mother in both demeanor and insight. “I am happy,” he expressed while looking at her side profile, her gaze now fixed ahead. “I’m happy. You four make me happy.”

She shrugged. “You could be happier.”

Cecily had no intention of shoving her father into the arms of any woman, but she wasn’t blind. She’d observed their interactions keenly—a bit foolish if she were to admit. She simply couldn’t imagine someone making her stutter and blush the way her father and Imogene did when in each other's presence. She knew she needed to make it clear to her father that if he decided not to pursue a relationship with the woman, it’d be his sole decision and not one influenced by herself and her siblings… (Addressing Eugene's bitterness would be a concern for another time, should it arise).

While she lacked deep perception of her mother, her memories painted a portrait of a woman akin to an angel. Cecily couldn’t imagine her mother being resentful of her father for seeking love after years spent in mourning.

Edmund, who prided himself on believing he possessed a more intimate understanding of Rosalyn than perhaps anyone else in the world, acknowledged that his daughter's insights held truth in more ways than one.

previous ➺ next

[witchlingcirce]

One thing I genuinely really like about the last hours and the dark artfices is that you can see how different Cassie’s original plans for the series were.

Btw all this information is stuff you can find on her tumblr from like 2010 and above!!!

Like for TDA in particular, Julian was meant to be really heavy smoker, Cristina’s name was Carmen and she was definitely going to have a very different personality (Cassie mentioned how this ‘Carmen’ liked to dye her hair), Livia was going to tell people her name was Olivia because she thought Livia was odd, AND there was meant to be another blackthorn! Who was originally going to be around 5 I think? And her name was Ariadne!!

Now the last hours is one where you can 100% see the major differences in how the characters and story was originally planned. I don’t know how long Cassie had actually planned this series for, but it was definitely a longggg time.

One major difference is definitely just the characters in general. If you look at James in the midnight heir his personality is so drastically different, there was meant to be alot more characters (I.E, Charlotte and Henry where meant to have daughters which I wish we got!!!). Not to mention appearances were very different as well!!!

Anna was going to have green eyes, and Christopher was going to have longer hair (look at that pony tail!).

Another example of this!!! I don’t think I could make who half these characters, and ngl looking at this feels so cursed!!

I think it’s meant to go Alastair, Alexander Lightwood (Gabriel and Cecily’S youngest son), next to him is either Cecily or most likely an earlier conception of Anna, Lucie and Cordelia, James and Matthew, behind them is Jesse and Grace I think! I than… Charles and Christopher??? Very odd duo. On the boat is herongraystairs, and than next to them I think is meant to be more lightwoods? I presume whoever they were would be our now Thomas, Eugina and Barbara. And I could not tell you for the life of me who was behind them.

I think the last hours is especially fun to look at because they have a decent amount of old fanart!!! Looking at white Alastair and Cordelia feels so… like it doesn’t even seem like it could be them!

TLH was also her series most impacted by covid!!! And she had planned to give the series a more tragic end, so I’m really curious what her original plan for that in particular was. I have theory’s something was meant to happen with Matthew but that’s just me.

I really enjoy seeing the difference in the original plan and what we got! Seeing the earlier stages feels so weird!!

(All lovely drawings done by Cassandra Jean)

[girlbreeder-bunnygirl]

About me! Please read (Pinned)

MINORS DNI!!!

Hi, I'm Cecilia, or Cecily Renns as I'm known in other places. I'm a 22 years old trans woman. This is my nsfw/kink blog for my horny posts + meeting other kinky queers :)

I'm MTF queer pansexual with sapphic leanings but I love trans people of any kind. I'm mostly t4t but I make exceptions. I'm polyamorous too!

I'm a DOM (more like a switch but I do not sub for strangers!) and I'm looking for subs to chat with and have fun with :D Asks and DMs are always open!

(when you DM me, please make some effort into your greeting, talk like a normal person instead of going straight to "dominate me"... I always welcome horny messages but I need something to work with, especially if you dont have anything pinned with your interests and kinks etc. I'd also like to know whether your cis or trans, so have that in your bio if possible)

I'm also a sorta-popular indie musician so... if you're into that power imbalance, we can use it lol!!!

Also I'm always open to just hang out and chat about non kinky stuff. I like music and anime and books! Talk to me about pop music or punk/emo bands haha

Kinks I'm into:

Breeding (<- THIS!!!!), Petplay, chubby/fat, furry (I'm a bunny!), BDSM, edging, marking, voices (I love audio posts <3), choking, spanking, biting, CNC

(My main kink that I have is a desire to completely own and control somebody... Making you into my property, having you be my toy/doll, not questioning anything I say, staying always obedient to me and letting me do anything to you, and liking the fact that you belong to me.)

Not into:

scat, piss, bigotry, the obvious stuff

Things I wanna call you:

Darling, Love, Dear/Dearest, Mine, baby, slut, whore, bitch, fucking (), useless, worthless, good girl/boy, obedient, loyal

Things I want you to call me:

Miss, Mistress, Master, Owner, Ma'am, (Miss) Cecilia/Cecily

[wonder-worker]

"[Elizabeth Woodville's] piety as queen seems to have been broadly conventional for a fifteenth-century royal, encompassing pilgrimages, membership of various fraternities, a particular devotion to her name saint, notable generosity to the Carthusians, and the foundation of a chantry at Westminster after her son was born there. ['On other occasions she supported planned religious foundations in London, […] made generous gifts to Eton College, and petitioned the pope to extend the circumstances in which indulgences could be acquired by observing the feast of the Visitation']. One possible indicator of a more personal, and more sophisticated, thread in her piety is a book of Hours of the Guardian Angel which Sutton and Visser-Fuchs have argued was commissioned for her, very possibly at her request."

-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight's Widow", "Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, Dynasty"

[voidedjuice]

cecily is just kind of boobsless and assless btw. important info

[fat-fem-and-asian]

schmicago is a 1920/1780/1960's fusion and every single one of those characters will happily run from a happiness bus to a meat pie shop to a cabaret without questioning anything

[perfinn]

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc - part ii

wc: 4.4k

summary: aemond confronts his mother about his betrothed, but the wedding goes ahead, leaving the prince to grapple with his complicated feelings toward the tyrell girl

cw: NSFW, blind character, period typical ableism, ableism in general, for prosperity dubcon (because aemond is (allegedly) not into cecily but he still feels like he has to do his duty. but both parties consent), period typical misogyny, aegon being a creep, allusions to aemond's 13th name day

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

Cecily Tyrell had not yet reached her seventh name day when she fell ill. A visit to the Arbour struck the young Lady down with an illness that not even the finest of the citadel’s archmaesters could name. It was believed she contracted it from a passing sailor on the docks of the Arbour, explaining away the mysterious nature of the sickness. Some maesters, younger and full of ideas, suggested it had come from Qarth, the work of some warlock testing the potential of pestilence as a form of warfare in enemy lands. Others, more experienced and grounded, were sure it was only some disease that the Essosi had grown strong against, that had gone from Essos so long ago no one had thought to mention it to Westerosi sailors on their shores. It had only struck Cecily because she was so young, they had supposed. 

But, regardless of anyone’s theories, there was no real answer. It was a mystery to all but the gods, Cecily’s mother had once said. Despite that no one had any real knowledge of the illness Lady Cecily’s father, Lord Martyn Tyrell, did not rest in having her treated. Cecily was his only child, and her birth had near killed his wife. He had no other heir, yes, but his determination was born from far more than the issue of succession. To lose his Cecily would be to lose half his heart. 

Cecily survived, of course, and thankfully did not infect another. However, despite all the treatment her little body could handle, her vision had been taken from her. She could not see a thing but for a blur of colours, and even then only in the bright sunlight. 

“I’ve come to see my mother.”

Criston Cole looks the young prince over with a carefully neutral gaze. Aemond is certain Cole knows how to read him, certain he sees the tension lacing his shoulders almost up to his ears. He does not care, though, what the knight sees. 

“Cole.”

Cole appears to contemplate another moment before he nods and opens the door to the queen’s solar, announcing Aemond’s arrival. 

Alicent stands to greet him, eyes following him as he stalks into the room, standing across from her. Her face, which had been a smile to greet her son, falls to a confused frown. 

“Something is the matter,” she says, tone lowered inquisitively. She broaches the topic with a statement, not a question. She knows Aemond better than she knows her other children, can read him like a book at the worst of times. They’re alike, perhaps too alike. 

“I’ve seen the Tyrell girl.”

Alicent closes her mouth, exhaling deeply through her nose and lowering herself to sit again. She pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a moment before looking back at her son. “You weren’t supposed to see her until the wedding.”

“I’m aware,” says Aemond, voice clipped. “And I can see why. I won’t wed her.”

“This is not up for negotiation, Aemond.”

“I’m not going to suffer this humiliation just for political gain,” he says sharply. “Just because I’ve lost half my sight-”

“I did not pick her for you because of her blindness,” Alicent says, standing back up and approaching the tense prince. “How could I do that to you? When have you known me to have anything but your best interests at heart? I chose her for you because I believe she is a fine match. She is as shrewd as she is pretty, she has a sense of humour, she has a political mind, and someday she will be the Wardeness of the South. A fine one, at that. If I had wanted an easy political alliance, I would have offered her Daeron’s hand. It would have been a lot quicker. They could have wed in Highgarden and it could be done by now. But I want for my children to be happy, Aemond.”

Aemond hums and bites back a remark about Helaena and Aegon, but he’s just rational enough to hear his mother out. It will do little good to hear her reasoning, though. Her good intentions cannot dull the blow of his embarrassment. 

“I believe that the two of you can build something wonderful together,” Alicent says, taking Aemond’s arms. Her touch is gentle, a comfort, but not one Aemond wants to be given now. 

Aemond can hardly unclench his jaw enough to speak in clear sentences. “Then why was she to be kept from me?” 

“The decision was not mine. Lord Martyn wished for her to be kept separate from you until you meet her at the ceremony.”

Aemond shifts, an odd swell of defensiveness building in his chest. Not for her, he tells himself. For me. “He is ashamed of her?”

“Quite the opposite. He loves that girl more than anything, he is just worried. He fears there is an issue of succession, he is paranoid Cecily’s claim will be threatened.”

Sounds like someone else I know, thinks Aemond bitterly. 

“He doesn't want anything to jeopardise this union, including you.”

“He was right to worry, mother,” he snaps, pulling away from her. “I will not be forced into this union. I am owed more than an invalid!”

“Aemond,” hisses Alicent. “You can hate this until the day you die, but it is happening, and you will try to be a good husband to her. We must make sacrifices for the sake of our family.”

She thinks he is being irrational, and perhaps she’s right. But he has earned the right to irrationality, has he not? He was robbed of his eye, he received no retribution, and now it is all anyone ever sees. His mother can speak all she wishes of Cecily’s attributes, it is all overshadowed by her weakness. A weakness he does not share, no matter what anyone would whisper. How much more must he sacrifice for the sake of this family?

He clenches his jaw, turning away from his mother and moving to leave the room. “You do not know me as well as you thought you did. You should have saved everyone the time and married her to Daeron.”

Despite Aemond’s week of staunch refusal and threats to fly off on dragonback and never return, the wedding goes ahead. Somehow, he’s wrestled into the Red Keep’s sept and made to await his bride. 

Instead of his preferred dark green clothing, he’s been forced into a black doublet with a dark red undershirt. It makes him uncomfortable not for the feel of it – the fabric is luscious and comfortable and it fits him perfectly – but for what the colours represent. That he is a prince of House Targaryen. This he knows, of course, but it feels nothing more than a name to him. He feels that Hightower blood flows far stronger through him than any other, though he would never dare admit it aloud. 

No one would understand him. No one ever has. 

He fiddles with the dark red silk poking out of his sleeve, expression turned down in the scowl that’s made itself quite at home on his face, loathing the thing. He does not make a habit of fidgeting with his clothes, but his hatred for the fabric overpowers his usual composure. 

(Why do you bother, Aemond? he thinks. She will not even see it.)

If his father had any say in it Aemond would surely have the Three Headed Dragon emblazoned across his damned eyepatch, just to drive the message home. Maybe his betrothed’s blindness has spared him of that, for she’d never be able to appreciate it anyway. He’s certain that this tiny mercy is all her disability will ever do for him. 

When the murmuring sept falls quiet, Aemond clenches his fists by his side. He remains facing the statues of the Mother and the Father, watching the way the sun filters through stained glass and lights up the visage of the gods as his betrothed approaches him. He only turns when she is behind him, prepared to take her hand from her father.

Aemond expects to see what he’s come to expect of House Tyrell; opulence and shining silk inlaid with gems, disgusting shows of wealth for the sake of maintaining their status. He hates it, most ardently, but he finds he does not see it reflected in Cecily. 

Cecily’s face is hidden by a gauzy ivory veil, embroidered with pale pink roses. Her dress is creamy white, similarly embroidered with all manner of flowers the names of which Aemond could not hope to recall. It is well made and no doubt expensive, but it is not so far into the realm of ostentation that he wishes to turn away in disgust, he would go so far as to call it… pretty. 

She looks pretty, in ivory lace and the fern green maiden’s cloak that lays over her shoulders. He almost dreads to lift her veil and be so harshly reminded of the cloud over her eyes. He takes her hand, gently guiding her up the steps. 

“Last one,” he murmurs, instantly cursing himself for his kindness to her when she murmurs her thanks. He does not understand himself. He understands himself even less when he hesitates before he reaches for her veil. “Your veil. May I?”

(He does not like her but he will not be a cruel husband. He will not delight in frightening her, he will take whatever care he must to be better than the husbands in his family. She is a rose most delicate, more so than any other. No matter his resentment, she will be his wife and hence shall be handled with care.)

He sees that shrewd smile behind her veil, and sees her nod. “Of course.”

Gods, her voice is sweeter than he remembers. The memories of it which have echoed in his head each night since they met do it no justice. 

He takes her veil between his gloved fingers, lifting it up over her face and settling it over the crown of flowers that secure it to her hair. Her eyes are turned up to him, even if she does not see. He sees the greyish film over them and the gentle feelings are frozen, replaced once more with resentment. 

If he were to turn and run now, would anyone dare to stop him?

Alas, he stays where he is and goes through the proceedings of the union as he’s expected to. Despite his ample protests, there is still a large part of him that longs to be his mother’s dutiful son. 

He reaches to remove the green cloak from her shoulders, running his thumb gently over the embroidered gold trim, and replaces it with one of red and black. Black dragons dance across the fabric, and a smile dances across Cecily’s face. 

With the septon’s blessing and declaration of their union, Aemond takes both her hands. He hesitates a moment as he sees Cecily close her eyes, wondering what’s going on in her head. Is she afraid? Excited? He finds her impossible to read, and he finds it’s driving him mad. Still, he leans down and presses his lips gently to hers. They’re petal soft against his but he does not let it linger. 

He fears if he does he will get lost in it, in the smell of flowers on her skin and the softness of her pink lips. He will not fall to the weak man’s game of lust, no matter if she is his wife under the Seven’s eye. The sept erupts into cheers for the new couple, and Aemond does not miss the way Cecily flinches at the sudden barrage of noise. 

He finds himself cursing their guests for frightening his wife, and he does not know why. 

Aemond is not granted a moment to speak with Cecily until the two of them are sitting beside one another at their wedding banquet, his new wife placed on the side of his good eye. 

The food is placed before them, and the first words his bride speaks to him in near-privacy are, “What have they prepared?”

Aemond taps his finger against the arm of his chair, looking between Cecily and the meal before him. “You seemed to have a keen sense of smell when last we met.”

Cecily chuckles, nodding slowly as she feels across the table for her fork. “As far as anyone but you, Flora, and myself is concerned, that meeting did not happen. But yes, I can smell things better than most, though it may only take me so far. I can smell, hm… fowl, and vegetables, and I can smell spiced honey, and of course the wine that flows from our cups.”

Aemond looks down at his plate, scowling at the sheer aptitude of her nose’s instinct. “It is honey glazed duck with stewed vegetables.”

“Ah!” Cecily delights, brightening with a smile. “It has been some time since my nose has served me this well. The Gods must smile on us today.”

Aemond scoffs. “The Gods have more important matters to tend to than what a blind girl smells for her dinner.”

“The Seven looks upon us always, lord husband, always,” she says as she begins to eat her food. Aemond scowls. She seems pious, even if she does not act as demure as a woman should. He supposes that very few women he knows do, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

Cecily does not bother him while they eat, but he watches her and sees she has not switched off. She is listening to the conversations around her, brow turned down in focus. Aemond looks away from her and to the wine in his cup, finding himself trying to do the same. He does not tune into much except half a hushed conversation between his mother and his older brother. 

He hears the words “abhorrent” and “heretical” hissed from his mother, and decides the conversation is not one worth hearing. It does not surprise him to hear that said to Aegon.

When dinner is finished and their empty plates carried away, Cecily leans toward Aemond again. 

“I am sorry we cannot share a dance,” she says. 

Aemond looks over at her, seeing her hands are tracing once more over the embroidery of her dress. She had been doing the same when he barged into her chambers last week. Perhaps it’s a comfort for her. “I hate dancing.”

Cecily smiles at him. “I see. Lucky for us both then. Dancing with a partner is an impossibility with no vision, I can imagine halved vision only makes it an ordeal.”

“Mmm,” hums Aemond, feeling that he should be upset by her words. He hates for it to be brought up, but she’s correct. The lack of vision on one side makes dancing a near impossible task. Maybe he was wrong about her blindness offering him only one mercy. But he cannot imagine any more. “Quite.” 

Her smile stays on her face, radiant despite Aemond’s cold and dismissive tone. There is a hidden, traitorous part of him that wishes to get to know her. She’s his wife, after all. Maybe it would be beneficial to them both if he made some effort to know the woman he’s supposed to love under the Gods’ doctrine. The woman he’s meant to bed. But he strikes that traitorous urge down and shoves it back into the recesses of his mind. He does not need to know a woman to perform his duty. If nothing else, Aegon is evidence of that fact. 

After another moment of stubborn silence Cecily leans away, calling for her cousin Flora. “I shall go speak to our guests, lord husband. Would you like to join me?”

“No,” he says, waving his hand before remembering she can’t see it and hurriedly lowering it, as though embarrassed. “Go.”

He finally sees a hint of her enthusiasm leeched by his dismissive words, and cannot help but be satisfied by it as she stands and offers him a curtsey before turning to Flora and making her way toward where his mother and father – barely conscious of his surroundings – sit. He scowls, thinking of how strongly Cecily will smell Viserys’ rotting body. 

He stiffens when another stench places itself beside him, the familiar scent of Arbour red that always seems to hang off his brother. He does not acknowledge him at first, keeping his eye on his own cup – Arbour gold, as is his own preference on the rare days he sullies himself with drink – in the hope that Aegon will see he is not interested in speaking to him. 

He has, as ever, no such luck.

“Brother,” says Aegon, words slightly slurred. “You will be most happy with me today.”

“Will I?” says Aemond, setting his cup down but still not looking at him.

“Indeed. I have convinced our mother to forgo the bedding ceremony.”

This gives Aemond pause, and finally convinces him to turn his gaze to Aegon. Aegon grins. 

“I knew you’d like that. You’ll still need to consummate, but I’ve done the kindness of letting you do it in private.”

“How did you manage that?”

He shrugs. “A few well placed words about the Seven and decency. Appealing to mother’s faith will get you far, you know. Do not say I’ve never done anything for you. But listen–” Aemond should have known he would want something out of this. “– I can see you do not like her. You will not wish to lay with her, and I understand. But I do not give a fuck if she’s blind, in fact–”

“Do not dare suggest what you have in mind, brother–”

“Come now! I am just being the caring big brother I have always been, Aemond. If you cannot complete the act and you wish to call me in, she’ll be none the wiser. Even if you can, I would still appreciate a turn.”

“Hold your tongue,” Aemond hisses, reaching out and grabbing Aegon by the front of his wine-stained shirt. “You dishonour my wife and your own. Does your debauchery never cease?”

“Gods, brother!” Aegon huffs, clumsily trying to smack Aemond’s hand away. “Twas only a suggestion!”

“Cecily is my wife, and if I hear you’ve touched her you will no longer have a cock to shove in whichever serving girl next takes your fancy.” His voice is low, dangerous. Aegon, though, only seems amused as he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“Forgive me, I only hoped to save you from a girl you’re so clearly repulsed by,” he says, as though his intentions had been purely selfless and full of care for his brother. He is so drunk he does not realise that Aemond has never been more serious. “By all means, have the girl. But do tell me if her cunt really smells of roses.”

Aemond releases him roughly, sending the man tumbling off his chair, and stands with the intent to find his wife. He’s thankful to see her still standing before the queen and king with Flora.

He makes his way over, making his presence known to Cecily with a clearing of his throat. 

“Your husband,” Flora murmurs to Cecily, and the two of them offer curtsies to the prince. 

Aemond watches them for a moment before turning to his mother. “Aegon tells me you have decided there will be no bedding ceremony.”

Alicent offers her son a smile and nods. “Yes, we both agreed it was an affront to the Seven. And I am certain there will be proof enough of your consummation come the morning, won’t there?”

“With any luck, your grace,” says Cecily. 

“Good,” says Aemond, not acknowledging Cecily. “Then I wish to retire with my lady wife now. It will serve as a good excuse for father to go rest as well.”

“Right,” says Alicent, moving to stand with the intent to announce their departure, no doubt. 

“No need for an announcement,” he says, gesturing for her to sit back down. “We will go quietly. Lady Cecily, come.”

He holds out his arm and Flora carefully guides Cecily to take it, bidding her cousin good night and good luck.

Aemond leads Cecily up to his chambers, hesitating at the door. She has not said a word the whole way. Is she afraid, as he is? Nervous? It would be only logical. Even without the worry of lords of the realm witnessing their coupling, it is daunting for Aemond. He cannot imagine the fear it would cause in someone who has not done it before. 

He opens the door, gently leading her inside by a hand on the small of her back. “I will help you find your way around until you learn it,” he tells her. 

“Thank you, my lord,” she says, fiddling again with her dress. “Do you know why we’ve been allowed to do this without spectators?”

“A kindness brokered by my brother,” says Aemond, closing the door and looking to her as she stands in the middle of the room, aimless. A sting of repulsion twists in his chest. It feels all too similar to self-loathing, though he cannot know why. “I’m sure it is all we will get in lieu of a wedding gift.”

“Ah, then I must make certain to thank him,” she says, reaching back to begin undoing the lacing of her gown.

“You should not trouble yourself with Aegon’s company,” he says firmly, looking away from her as though trying not to dishonour her in a state of undress. 

“Oh,” she murmurs, slipping off the dress so it pools around her ankles. She stands there in only her smallclothes. He glances up, catching sight of her as she slips her chemise from her shoulders and his breath catches in his throat. Her body, svelte but soft with a life of good food and comfort, is near bare before him. She smiles, evidently hoping he’s looking as she plays with her hands. “I hope I am pleasing to you. Will you help me to the bed?”

He watches her in silence for a moment, as though stunned by the sight of his wife almost naked. In a sense, he is. He had not expected Cecily to act quite so boldly. She is a confident woman and not demure as he is aware, but somehow he thought her nerves would get the better of her. Perhaps not being able to see his reactions helps.

Could she see, she would see a man stunned and frightened, and he finds himself thankful yet again for her blindness. He does not answer her but begins to slowly undress, first removing his gloves, then his boots, then he undoes the lacing of his doublet. As he does, he moves toward her. She perks, then stiffens, as though realising what those footsteps mean. 

He shrugs the doublet off, and reaches to take her hand. The touch of her bare skin against his, for the first time, burns hotter than dragonfire.��

He forces himself to lead her to the bed and watches as she sits down, shimmying up to lean against the pillows, hands settled in her lap as Aemond moves to sit down beside her. It feels wrong to be in a state of undress around a woman, even one who cannot see him. He hasn't allowed himself to be intimate with a woman since…

He pushes that thought from his mind. Hate Cecily as he does, she seems kind enough. Innocent, as he had once been. She will not laugh at him as those women did. 

(Gods, he hopes she is truly as kind as she makes out to be.)

Cecily shifts closer to him, gently feeling across the soft sheets for Aemond’s hand. She turns to face him, offering him a timid smile. “I am a maiden,” she tells him. “But I will try not to be boring for you.”

“You do not have to,” Aemond mumbles, watching her hand slide over his arm and onto his chest, then down. He feels his pulse quicken, but does not stop her. 

“I wish to,” she promises in a whisper. Her hand trails further down, to the waist of his trousers. 

Aemond clenches his jaw and reaches for her wrist as gently as he can manage, though he’s certain she feels the slight tremble in his grip. He moves her hand away, not meeting her eyes to avoid the look on her face– she must be mocking him. She must think him a fool, a boy, an invalid, just like she is. “Let us not make this more complicated than it ought to be.”

“But, I-”

“Lay back. I will do my best to be gentle.”

He finally looks up at her and what he sees is not a mocking sneer, but only confusion. Still, she obliges him and shifts to lay down on the bed, hands folded over her stomach. Aemond’s heart pangs with something he cannot hope to understand, but he ignores it. He undoes his pants, crawling over her and not wasting any further time. 

He goes as slow as he can manage to ease her into the feeling, but once he has broken her maidenhead he forces himself away from all sentimentality and care, moving instead with cold, hard duty. He does not let himself think about how she feels wrapped around his cock, soft and wet and warm and tight. He especially does not dare let himself look at her, does not dare see the expression of disappointment and upset that no doubt takes residence on her face. He cannot. 

After some time he comes with a grunt, taking a few steadying breaths to keep himself under control. To lose any part of his inhibitions now would be weakness. 

I am not weak, he thinks, not doing well to convince himself. Aemond Targaryen is not weak. 

He pulls out after a moment and rolls over to lay beside her. Cecily says nothing, but he sees her press her palms to her eyes and take a deep inhale. She’s trying not to cry. A better husband might comfort her, but Aemond cannot bring himself to do so when he cannot even comfort himself. So Aemond rolls over and listens to his wife try to keep her breathing even, feeling weaker than he has in many years.

part iii

[fernsproutxx]

My fnaf lore.

anywhooo… here it goes! just to note; i have written down what happens in the security breach era, but it enters more into au territory tbh, so that will probably be a secondary reblog to this post later, since i have still to add ruin into the mix.

but without much further ado, enjoy reading my lore interpretation of this franchise (i focus mostly in satisfying narrative than being accurate)

William Afton, born on the 2nd of November in 1939 as an only child, lived in England with his parents. He was a smart child who got placed in bad circumstances by no fault of his. He was born susceptible to mental illness, afraid about his head, but the abuse from his Father after he made it back from war in 1945 shaped William terribly (If you wanna know how I picture William’s childhood, it’s pretty much just like in “His Empire of Dirt” please for the love of god read that fic it’s so good i can’t even-)

Everyone is the victim of a victim.

William moved to the USA [Hurricane, Utah] in 1958, pursuing better studies for a major in engineering and a minor in business. But also at the same time to get as far away as he could from his abusive Father. He got a part-time job at a local restaurant too.

He meets Henry Emily (born on 25/Apr/1946) in college in September of 1964, and William finds himself intrigued about how his new colleague’s mind works, even seeing a little of himself in him. William is captivated by him, his ideas, and his being.

He grows attached to Henry, as for that period Henry is the only constant in William’s life, due to him having no one to rely on when he moved alone to another country.

Without noticing, William becomes obsessed with Henry, writing in stacks of journals. Envy and admiration blind him when bearing witness to the seemingly good childhood Henry had, unlike him.

Straight William doesn’t exist, his brain just really said no homo, so he has internalized homophobia smh. Henry is straight in this, and he’s completely oblivious to William’s feelings. So it’s pretty much a one-sided thing but that one side is in denial.

Henry found William odd, unnerving, and rude at first but soon got accustomed to his presence. In the end, he felt good that finally someone intently listened to his uncommon ideas instead of saying how his projects and dreams wouldn’t get him anywhere. Having a close friend felt good for once.

Later on, William, like the jealous and obsessive bastard he is, just wants to be equal to Henry. They’re very competitive, like at first they’re just competitive in a friendly manner but as time goes on, that same competitiveness begins to corrupt William.

In November of 1965 in the middle of one of their class lessons, both of them brainstormed about opening a franchise together, Fazbear Entertainment.

Henry brought it up first as a joke, as all things usually did between the two. This time though, William enhanced the idea further than expected. He followed the lead and threw even more things into the mix. Things like how both could incorporate robotics with entertainment and how William could take care of the financial side of things.

It started as a joke, but then William dig deeper, and soon enough, Henry’s joke became something more.

While both were still finishing their studies they began the first project for their growing franchise, Fredbear’s Family Diner, as well as making the blueprints for its respective animatronics.

In May of 1968, months before their graduation both William and Henry walked around the campus. William catches a glimpse of a young ballerina at the auditorium, Cecily Schmidt (born on 29/May/1944). Henry mocks him about how dumbfounded he looked by the ballerina as if he’s never seen a woman before (lmao).

Later William would find himself at the back of the auditorium every time Cecily performed, marveling about her fluent and intricate movements, imagining one of his creations moving in that same hypnotic way.

One day William was caught off guard by Cecily, and she told him how she had seen him watching her since the beginning. William was surprised she had even noticed him since she seemed so deep into her choreography that Cecily used to always dance with her eyes closed.

They talked for a while, and Cecily found William quite charming. From then on they would always talk when she finished her practice sessions. William learns that Cecily suffers from Cystic Fibrosis and that it might cut short her dancing career.

Around July of 1968, William began to show interest in the theatrical (he even learned how to play the banjo, like terrifyingly good at it xd). He got so invested in acting that he decided he wanted to perform in Fredbear’s, so he alone came up with the idea of building the animatronics to double as wearable costumes (this was also to save some money). That’s how the spring-lock suit blueprints came to be.

It’s graduation night (16/Dec/1968) and everyone gets drunk as fuck. Henry drags William to a party at someone’s frat house where they don’t even know the host.

William was just watching Henry from afar while leaning against the wall as he drank a beer, then another, and another, and…

He doesn’t remember what happened that night. When William wakes up he's completely wasted on the floor in the master bedroom, as if he had rolled off the bed and the fall didn't wake him up. He was completely alone though, and the room was trashed.

He also wasn’t the only person that had passed out too (there were more knocked out persons in the living room and one with their head inside a toilet kekw).

On the 23rd of January 1969, William finds out Cecily is pregnant and she keeps saying that the kid is his which he blatantly denies, until she brings up the prom night. The night he doesn’t remember. He still denies it even when knowing she might be right.

Around February of the same year, Henry announces that he’s marrying Isabella Barnett (born on 31/Jan/1946 (if you know you know)). William then proposed to Cecily out of spite of Henry having a wife, and since she was already pregnant with his son he just took the chance like the competitive bastard he grew to be.

Michael is born on the 16th of August 1969 (n i c e), and William has a lingering hatred towards him but decides to put it aside for once. Henry had a child with Bella a little over a year later, and they named her Charlotte Emily (born on 7/Jun/1970).

William starts to slowly fall in love with Cecily in 1972, and they have another child, Elizabeth (whom they nickname Abby) born on the 11th of August 1973. Later on the 23rd of September 1976, they decided to adopt a boy, Evan (born on 13/May/1975).

In 1979, Fazbear Entertainment was founded and Fredbear's Family Diner was built as well as the spring-lock animatronics. Audiotapes were recorded as a means of training employees. One day while wearing the Springbonnie suit the locks fail, impaling William, but he survives despite being left scarred.

The spring-lock animatronics are retired from their wearable mode until further notice, so they instead start using regular mascot suits as they now can afford them due to Fredbear’s Family Diner being a fairly great success ever since its opening. After a while they decide to add more members to the cast besides the golden duo; Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy. The classics.

And for once life was good. But good things don’t last forever. Cecily’s illness strikes harder in July of 1980.

Then why did William have the Funtime animatronics even when he hadn’t shown any signs of bloodlust¿ Well, to achieve immortality still BUT not for him. Guess who did end up falling in love despite not being for the right reasons at first~ fuckin William the bitch, he fell in love with Cecily and then she got sick af, but since he can’t make a cure he rather find a way around and cheat death for someone he ended up loving as one does. William experimented with animals first and while it gave positive results it didn’t get enough of what he needed so he debated on murdering children.

Between Cecily being at the hospital and William neck deep into his experiment and work, there was no one else to take care of the Afton children. Michael refused to call Uncle Henry for help, and he wouldn’t have admitted it but looking after his siblings as if he’s a parent, even if he definitely shouldn’t have had to because he’s barely a teenager, gave him a sense of normalcy because he knew that at least they weren’t being that neglected.

Cecily died from Cystic Fibrosis on the 3rd of November 1980. Michael takes it out on his brother because you know how anger is part of grief¿ Yeah…

Abby died to Circus Baby on the 11th of April 1982. Evan saw it happen from afar. This didn’t help in the slightest with Michael’s grief, and with kids being dumb in general, the bullying towards Evan gets worse. Michael just wanted to be loved just like how Father loved his brother, to have his attention.

After losing Abby, William goes apeshit (lmao), and he kills Charlotte Emily on the night of the 7th of June 1982 at a friend's party at Fredbear’s out of jealousy while wishing to make Henry feel the same way he does so they're equal. Michael loses his best friend. A little later Isabella divorces Henry due to their child being murdered, she would later pass away (29/Oct/1984) in a car crash without knowing who killed her daughter.

Around July of 1982, to make sure his youngest child, Evan, doesn’t go near any animatronic unlike his sister, William gives him a Fredbear plush with a modulated speaker and camera to monitor him at all times. He would constantly instill that the animatronics were dangerous monsters and remind him of “what he saw” when speaking at Evan through the plush, settling a new fear in him in hopes of keeping his child as far away as possible from the machines.

Evan is bullied by his older brother Michael on his birthday and forces him inside Fredbear’s mouth. Due to Evan’s tears and pushing when trying to get out, the moisture and jerky movements caused the jaw spring-locks to go back into their default position, closed.

On the 13th of May 1983, Fredbear bites Evan's head on his 8th birthday, leaving him in a coma.

“Can you hear me? I don’t know if you can hear me …I’m sorry.”

You’re broken. We are still your friends. Do you still believe that? I’m still here. I will put you back together.

Evan dies a week later due to his injury. Everything goes into an even steeper downhill.

Michael was only 13 years old when all this unfolded, and began to suffer from AvPD (avoidant personality disorder). This disorder began to develop from William’s emotional neglect and got worse after the rejection he received from others after the bite of ‘83, especially from his friend group and classmates, practically becoming an outsider.

As a punishment for what he did, in June of 1983, William tested the illusion discs with Michael by tormenting him all night with the nightmare animatronics (this is also why Michael knows how to draw nightmare fredbear in the survival logbook). Michael underwent severe sleep deprivation to the point where he even hallucinated hospital objects in his room from when he never left Evan’s bedside before passing away. If he wasn’t trying to doze off whenever he could, Mike was in a constant state of paranoia throughout the daytime.

On his first night, Michael almost didn’t make it, since right as Foxy jumped him the alarm clock blared out, leaving him with a scratch on his chin from Foxy’s hook. When telling William about it he just gaslighted him into thinking it was simply nightmares and not real for the entire week. Micheal cried for the first time since his brother died.

William did like Cecily, Evan, and Abby, he just hates Michael and blames him for everything, so their deaths add to the reason why he went apeshit, as he starts murdering children out of madness and spite towards Michael (He wanted to murder him but knew that he would get pinpointed by the police too fast). The first missing children incident happened on the 26th of June 1985. They get stuffed inside the classic animatronics plus Fredbear, and William discovers remnant. Fredbear’s Family Diner closes down in July of the same year after the backlash.

One day in November of 1985, William simply came back home to another empty bedroom. His only son had moved out to live on his own, away from anything related to his Father.

Despite not having received any prior disclosure about this, William didn’t have any reaction whatsoever and went back to his experiments without comments.

Around January of 1986, William goes on the run from Henry after they both get released from their conviction due to the lack of evidence, Henry finally realizes that William killed those kids and most likely also murdered Charlotte.

After moving out, Michael gets a small house in a social suburb where all neighbors know each other, and a job that deals with repairs and heavy machinery, nothing crazy. In April of 1986, he also meets a guy named Jeremy Fitzgerald and begins a discreet relationship with him.

In September of the same year, Fazbear Entertainment, now in the solo ownership of Henry, opens a new location, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza (fnaf 2).

Michael receives a letter from his Father telling him about the sister location. On one of his shifts he gets a hold of the illusion disc that was removed from Funtime Freddy and takes it with him (this will be important later).

He was 17 when he died on the 5th of October 1986, his vital organs getting scooped and replaced by Ennard, worn as a rotting suit. After regaining control of his body Michael isolates himself, ignoring all the worried calls from Jeremy. He never got the chance to go to college and grow up like everyone else. He was just a kid when he died.

Michael suffers from Eisoptrophobia. The fear of seeing oneself in the mirror; is a very infrequent specific phobia. Many believe that this fear occurs in response to several factors such as superstition, poor self-image, or the result of a traumatic event. In his case, Michael is terrified of his reflection due to the likeness he shares with his Father and fears that he's just like him, a murderer. At first, he would simply cover them up with a towel or something but after getting scooped his phobia just gets worse, and he straight up just breaks all mirrors with his fist if he ever catches a glimpse.

The beginning of his phobia takes place after the bite of ‘83 when he sees his reflection. His tangled hair was greasy from the lack of a shower since he refused to leave Evan’s side. Then he saw how it curled around his neck and the dry blood that was still stuck to his hair. In a panic he started to cut it, snipping everything away. Michael refused to let his hair grow out like that, not wanting to remind himself of that day anymore, and he's not had his hair long ever since.

That’s why my Mike has short hair, and after getting scooped he gets a long wig since he doesn’t even bother to look in the mirror. Funnily enough, his facial features resemble even more those of his Father after the scoop, showing just how William already looked dead as time went by, way before actually dying.

After moving out of his Father’s house his AvPD symptoms seemed to alleviate a lot. That’s how he began to open up and be social with his neighbors and even start a relationship with Jeremy.

But you know how life tends to suddenly drag you even deeper when things barely begin to look in a positive light? Yeah, he got scooped right after “tasting the honey on his lips” of a promising future. Basically, the AvPD hit Michael like a truck in the worst way possible after getting tricked by Ennard.

Later Mike makes his mission to find his Father and make him pay for what he’s done.

Around November of 1987, William sneaks inside Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza restaurant and takes away several parts from the classic ones, making them look severely withered. Tries to make a remnant but it’s not enough with just spare parts.

In desperate need of more remnant, William goes on another killing spree, and the second missing children incident takes place. They get stuffed in the tampered toy animatronics.

The restaurant gets shut down. But one employee didn’t get the memo.

The bite of 1987 happens on the 6th day after being moved to the dayshift. Jeremy was looking for Michael all over the state but he suffered terrible consequences because of it.

When hearing about this Michael takes the job under the fake alias Fritz Smith and uses the illusion disc to pass as a normal person (who tf would employ an ourple person), but is fired the next day for tampering with the animatronics as well as his rotting odor.

Also, even though he only worked one shift, in one of his many close calls due to the animatronics being extremely aggressive, his illusion disc stopped working properly.

He also obtained his old reliable flashlight in that location, and it has never left his side since then (that shit is so big and heavy that you could kill someone with it fr).

Then the withered animatronics were reconditioned and put in a new location in 1993 (fnaf 1).

The reason Michael uses the name Mike Schmidt is bc it’s his Mother’s last name, Michael is a momma’s boy. BC MAN HIS FATHER HATES HIM SO HE JUST SPENT ALL THE TIME WITH HIS MOM EVEN AFTER HE HAD HIS SIBLINGS BUT THEN SHE DIES AND BC OF HOW MUCH IT AFFECTED HIM HE STARTS TO BULLY EVAN- FU C K.

Anyways, even after his illusion disc broke he somehow managed to get the job as a rotting corpse lmao, but Michael is fired again a week later for the same reasons as before and the place closes down.

On the 8th of February 1993, William breaks in and decides to take down the animatronics for good. However, he gets cornered by several vengeful spirits, getting spring-locked in an attempt to scare them away with the same suit he used to murder them.

The agony of his death fused his soul into this animatronic. He couldn’t move, barely able to twitch in this state. It exhausted him greatly when he tried. Just slouched over the wall, in a puddle of his dried blood.

His body spasms, wincing at the agony. He wasn’t numb. He could still feel metal in his flesh digging deeper with every movement. He groaned when trying to call out, but it sounded wheezy, filled with static from the voice box inside him. He couldn’t scream for help, despite doing his best. His body shuddered in anger, eyes flashing flickering light into the dark room he was in.

Henry visits his local to check on his failed animatronics one last time before it’s done for good but finds the classics destroyed and leading to the side room, finding William’s body inside the Spring Bonnie suit.

At first glance, Henry thought that he was dead but upon closer inspection, he noticed the flickering eyes a rasping breathing. Somehow William was still alive, but unable to move.

Henry thought this fate was well deserved. After all, he firmly believed— no, knew that William was responsible for all the murders, of Charlotte, despite nothing being proved in court.

So, with one last glance at someone he thought he once knew, he closed the door to the side room, leaving William to rot in his agony.

In later days Henry ordered the side room to be sealed off behind a fake wall.

Micheal spends the next decades looking for his Father and picking a liking to exploring abandoned places, learning the inner workings of his Father's animatronics in his spare time, which was easy since he's dealt with machinery before, and also hiding in the shadows.

[Zeitgeist Ammonium AU timeline starts here :D]

Fnaf 3 takes place in October of 2023. Michael gets a job at Fazbear's Frights, even though he hates the whole concept of an attraction based on a real tragedy. The manager even included Michael in the attraction as a security guard due to his unsettling appearance. He hated that too.

Anyways, blah blah… the ourple boy commits arson and patricide, and fnaf 6 takes placeon the 31st of January 2025. Michael pities that he once considered Henry as family.

Cassidy tortures William for eternity.