#imagine being an author but when you were a kid you were chosen to be a guardian of another world but also the sword of flames chose you

[t-u-i-t-c]

make me choose

touma kamiyama or rintaro shindo → touma kamiyama

[shadesoflsk]

        MOONTALK

pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.

summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.

warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!

The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber. 

It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.

However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.

Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you. 

He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures. 

A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon.  He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.

But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.

He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.

“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.

He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.

God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?

Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?

He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?

That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is. 

And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms. 

‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.

The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours. 

Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.

Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night. 

“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.

“Can’t sleep without my husband.” 

Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”

“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”

“You worry too much.”

“But I’m always right.”

A sigh. 

Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive. 

“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”

Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.

“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it. 

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Why I don't believe you?”

He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown. 

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly. 

“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.

“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”

The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM. 

“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens. 

“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”

“Salvation.” 

It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.

Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do. 

Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.

“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”

A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls. 

It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.

Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him. 

“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”

“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.” 

“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself. 

“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.

“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.

“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”

Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene. 

‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’

Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.

“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“No, you’re just human.”  You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?

Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.

A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.

“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.

“That's not how the line goes, you silly.” 

Bingo.

“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”

“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.

But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now. 

In another life, you’d love him over and over again.

“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”

His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”

As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.

“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.

“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”

You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.

His sanctuary, your heaven.

You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.

As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.

“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.

With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck. 

With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain. 

After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.

He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day. 

You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise.  But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless. 

Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now. 

“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.

“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven. 

“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.

“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.

“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best. 

“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.

With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.

Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.

You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets. 

“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair 

“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so. 

Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to. 

When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.

For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving. 

“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock. 

You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still. 

“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock. 

“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.

Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.

You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek. 

“I’m gonna  — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone. 

And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.

The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips. 

You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break. 

Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest. 

For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.

“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor. 

“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face. 

You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression. 

Heaven.

After a minute or so, Leon composes himself. 

“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”

“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”

“Oh? I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.

💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.

[opal-owl-flight]

can I ask about the poster "agent 3" kids story?

Yes you can and here it all is!! Presenting…

tldr: She comes from a family of big name actors in the industry, and shes been raised from hatching to continue their legacy. Its…a lot of pressure to put on a kid, especially one who just wants to make her (impossible to satisfy) family proud. Despite being surrounded by impossible standards, the fakest friends chosen for her, being given everything she can ever want (except what she really needs), and putting on a hundred masks for everyone in her life for survival’s sake in a cutthroat industry, she chooses to be kind.

more details under the cut!!

Her name is Sariwa, which means “fresh” . Named for her spring green tentacles and as a blessing from her parents that shed stay youthful, beautiful. a hope that she would be seen and be adored (as freshness implies coolness/popularity in sploonworld).

Shes hatched into the acting industry, with both parents being big in the industry. From hatching she was expected, trained to be an actor like her mother is. The media adores them, this “sweet little family”, but no one knows how nefarious everything is when the cameras are off.

The dad is neglectful, disappearing into meetings most of the time. The mom is a helicopter parent to make up for it. Pointing out every flaw that Sariwa apparently has in either performance or appearance. Never giving praise. Except when she performs “well enough” on stage. This instills in the child this need to make them proud. to…to make everyone happy. She becomes someone whose dependent on other peoples’ praise to function.

Shes given everything else, dont get me wrong. Every material thing she’ll ever need. all the big popular “friends” chosen for her. But…shes not allowed to turf. yknow. biggest event in an inkling’s life here in Inkopolis. and shes not allowed to go to school either. shes too busy memorizing lines for adverts or-

The second she turned 14, she was chosen as the lead role for Cuttlegear’s brand new show abt Agent 3. She looked exactly like the legendary hero, according to the sources. All her time went into this project. Thankfully, unlike at home…her co-actors were very kind. Her parents didnt choose for her this time. She was meeting actual people who dont put on masks beyond their job. the actor they got for Cuttlefish, in particular, is a very kind soul, defending her when the directors get too pissy with her performance. (Those are the only people she fears, tbh shes fearful of most authority figures.)

*Cuttlefish is also depicted as kind and supportive in the show. and in most games. Unlike the real Cuttlefish, which is kind of a loony old man who pushes ideas on young inklings. He still gives more support and kindness that 3s dad ever gave, but thats only RELATIVE to how little he gave in the first place. One can only imagine the longing this inspires in the real 3.

Sariwa…since shes hatched shes had to put on an act. Be the perfect little doll for her parents. For the world. But her friends here, they inspired her to…have fun with what shes doing again. To take off the mask (mostly beyond the clock). Breathe life in the character when she can. (But lets be real…shes getting 3 spot on with how many parallels they have with each others lives.)

But what is she beyond the mask, her role? She wasnt allowed to do anything beyond this. She was forced to depend on her abusive parents and their associates. She cant live alone beyond them. Not allowed to turf bc shes “a prim and proper young lady; above such violent drivel that only delinquents participate in”. They gesture to 3, whos one of the faces Squidforce uses in their promotions, and say (ironically.) that she must not become that. Face ripped to shreds and eye mangled.

No one knows they got that from the real war that Sariwa is pretending to show.

The show does its best to be an accurate telling. Child friendly, to a point. Horrifying things still get kept in somewhat. Things that will horrify a child on stage.

If Sariwa is terrified of the props, can you imagine how it was for 3?

————————

And once she realizes all of this. Once she gets out of this situation thanks to Callie, Marie, and 3 themself. Does she feel guilt? Guilt for depicting the horrors in a way that glorifies it instead? A part of a project that aims to make people complacent to the real horrors that churned below?

There is one thing Sariwa feels about 3, that I am aware of rn.

“Im glad, that out of every story I couldve told, Im glad it was yours.”

Just like 8, she sung this tale in her hearts. Just like 8, she used this to break out of this terrible situation, answering the call of the ones who promised her safety. A better life. Like the way she stage broke through that prop in the choreographed Octavio fight, she broke through the influence of those around her.

*She actually went off-script a bit in that scene. After she beat down Octavio, she held out her hand. Mostly to help the actor up. But then, without realizing, she spoke, she spoke of making things better between the nations. That maybe he doesnt have to steal the zapfish anymore.

Her time with the octoling actors, and hearing the stories from the ex-octarians, made her aware and know the fact that theyre people too. The directors kept it in. They knew that if they released this as they have planned it, there will be fuckign riots from the ex-octarians or the Inkling “sympathizers”.

She saw the value this story held, despite the subliminal messaging that she wished wasnt implemented. That she wished she wasnt a part of. She saw that its a tale of hope. A tale that inspires one to become the hero of their own life. A tale that inspires one to make the world a better place.

————————

So she was hatched and raised to make people smile, singing her songs and dancing their dances. Much like the clan singer that was 4, except the tradition is much more healthy compared to industry standard. And she didnt become as mean as the people around her, at least not internally. She put on a mean mask but she felt the void within. When she was given kindness for a long enough time, she put her walls down.

And just like the real 3, she underwent through the horrors of expectations she had to hold up, and trying to make uninterested parents proud. They dont see her as their daughter, shes just a means to an end. She had to wear a hundred masks to survive and it made her lose her sense of identity. She had to be mature, she had to take the shitty behavior of adults who expect her to be like one too. It made her lose grip of who she is beyond this role. Hell, they made her so dependent on their handouts that shes not sure she can exist beyond this hell. Much like how 3 struggles to know a life beyond their duty.

And much like 8, she used the story she was telling to break out and get herself in a better situation. She met with the real Agents 1 and 2 (without her knowledge) and asked. Begged. for help, after her show ended. (3 also kind of pointed the two in her direction. Bc cod knows how horrifying this industry is. Shes lucky she didnt get any of the grosser horrors ~~its bc I didnt feel comfortable writing such topics~~)

And then shes faced with the same problem all the real legends faced. What comes after the end? When the dust clears, what happens next? She wasnt given a damn choice, she wasnt allowed to try to learn things beyond this role. to be beyond an imagined agent 3. a soldier for the screen. who is she now, that shes out of that battlefield?

little does she realize that the real 3s asking the same question for themself.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Okay, imagine brothers Lin Kuei, Raiden, Kung Lao, Liu Kang, if their son was chosen as Earthrealm's champion and had won his first tournament.

author note: put these two requests together! gn!child. Anon don't listen to Bi-Han! Family is people that love and support you and help you out when you fall. Blood relations have very little to do with family💫

Bi-Han: -He'll never treat you as his kid, but at least you have enough education not to bother him too much. -Bi-Han will treat you like one of his ninjas. You are either perfection or nothing. -When you get chosen as Earthrealm champion, Bi-Han was proud, but mostly green with envy. -It should have been him or at least a true Lin Kuei. -It's good that you won the tournament because it brings more honour to the Lin Kuei, but don't expect much from him, at maximum a pat on your shoulder and a "you did your job well".

Kuai Liang: -He treats like you share the same blood; you are his kid. -But Liang doesn't make preferences! You'll have to train as hard as everyone else. -At maximum, Liang will be the one to clean your wounds, something that the other trainees won't have. -You being chosen as Earthrealm champion made Liang really proud. But he also is pretty worried. -"Be safe" He tells you, looking straight into your eyes, then kissing the top of your head. Liang has complete trust in you. -Liang isn't the one for parties, but you won, so the entire Shirai Ryu needs to celebrate!! -Liang is really proud of his kid.

Tomas Vrbada: -Oh, he knows this situation way too well. -Tomas is really soft with you. He doesn't want his child to suffer. -You'll have to train mostly with Liang and Harumi. -Tomas will be super proud when you get chosen as Earthrealm champion. -But he is also really worried! The chance of you getting hurt is so high. -For once, his usual vibes will match the ones when he works. Liu Kang feels a shiver when he accompanies you to Outworld. -Tomas gets drunk at the party when you come home as a winner. It's not like he ever doubted your skills, but damn he is so happy for you.

Raiden: -He doesn't have a family either, just Fujin, so Raiden will welcome you with open arms. Honestly, meditation helped you a lot when ugly emotions started to overcome any other thought. -Raiden will smile, hand landing in on your shoulder, full of pride. "I know you had the skills to become next Earthrealm champion." -He is not worried for you, and even when he is, Raiden starts to meditate. He doesn't want to send you any negative vibe. -Raiden won't throw a full party when you return home as a winner, but he'll gladly pay you a meal at Madame Bo! -Just for you. Kung Lao will try to sneak in. Make sure he'll pay his own meal.

Kung Lao: -It will be harder for him to treat you like you're his kid, but no way Lao will leave you alone! -You'll learn all his techniques. You'll be not only Lao n1 trainee but the n1 of the entire academy. -His chest is puffed out like a turkey one when you get chosen as Earthrealm champion. -"Obviously I knew you were going to be chosen. You had the best teacher, after all!" -Even happier when you come home as a winner. "Let's celebrate at Madame Bo! Raiden will pay for all of us!"

Liu Kang: -He knew you would have come. Liu Kang waited for this moment. -Honestly? Liu Kang always wanted to become a dad, and he knows you have a bright future in front of you. -He trains you, patch your wounds he is always next to you when you need it. -Feel free to tell him to back off. Liu Kang will nod, understading your feelings. Obviously, he was proud to announce you as Earthrealm champion. -And he will be even happier when you'll win the tournament, smile from one ear to another. -"Have you seen my kid! They are amazing, aren't they?" He'll carry you around, showing you off like the proud dad he is.

[idyllic-affections]

since you write for demon slayer i was wondering if you could write about the reader being tengen’s tsuguko and their mentor/mentee relationship (personally i think he’d be tough on them but care deep down. maybe touching on the entertainment district arc? thank you <3

being the sound hashira's tsuguko.

summary. what is it like being tengen uzui's student?

trigger & content warnings. mild depictions of injury, limb loss, voluntarily consuming poison, etc.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family-ish, fluff, slight angst towards the end. tengen uzui (and his wives) & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. i took this request and RAN with it, i love mentor/mentee requests for any fandom but especially for demon slayer.... the age was unspecified in this req, so i personally imaged tsuguko!reader being around tanjiro's age, however i left it pretty ambiguous so anyone can imagine it however they want. i also decided not to touch too deeply on the entertainment district arc, since this is only a headcanon post, but i'm totally cool with writing an actual fic about it! just shoot me another request if that's something you'd like to see <3

tengen is definitely a very tough mentor, and he doesn't get the opportunity to train many tsugukos because of this. he's hard on his students. he's a demanding mentor, though at the very least, he lays out his expectations clearly. he knows exactly what he wants he students to know.

the lower ranked demon slayers have favored hashira, ones they would prefer to train under if they were ever given the chance to. tengen is not really one of those favored potential mentors. preferred mentors would be people like kyojuro or mitsuri. that isn't to say any other hashira would be any less tough on their tsugukos than tengen is, but the sound hashira supposes those two come off as kinder than he does.

of course, it should be made very clear that he's hard on his students not because he gets some kind of sadistic pleasure out of watching them struggle, but because he wants them to survive.

his training is just downright difficult. it's all in the spirit of survival, though.

a tsuguko of his would have a lot of things expected of them.

his student is expected to build poison resistance by microdosing themselves day after day.

his student is expected to have a certain amount of stamina.

they're expected to be stealthy.

they're expected to be able to make split-second decisions.

simply put, it's... a lot.

generally, anyone who trains under him quits shortly after beginning, so they don't really get to know him. they don't get to understand why he does what he does. they miss the opportunity to really understand him. the one exception would be his current tsuguko, [name].

he cares very deeply for the one tsuguko that did stick around!

tbh, he's pretty open about that fact, especially when he's alone with them and his wives! he's not secretive about caring for them.

he expects them to prioritize their own life. it is something that other demon slayers might not agree with, something that others find "selfish" and "cruel."

tengen does not see it that way.

he's seen that self-sacrificial, "give everything up for the mission" ideology tear people apart. he's seen it tear his blood family apart. he'd be damned if he let it tear his chosen family apart.

"because you are very dear to me," he'd say, placing a firm hand on their head and ruffling their hair fondly, "i expect you to value your life above all others. the mission is not worth your life. you protect yourself, you protect others, and you get the hell out of there if you can't handle it. you come back to me, to us. you got that?"

i personally think he'd treat his tsuguko like his kid if they're sixteen or under. yeah, he's only in his early 20s. so what? that's his kid. if they're above that age, he treats them like a precious younger sibling. if they happen to be older than him? he does not care. that's still his younger sibling.

regardless of their age, his tsuguko is a part of his little family.

no demon will ever lay their hands on his family and get away with it. he will not allow it.

if they get injured on a mission and they're recovering at the butterfly estate, my man is at their bedside in an instant. he probably yells at them because how dare they worry him?? where did they get the audacity??? tengen eventually gets over it and admits that he's glad they're alright. his wives also come to visit them when they have the time!!

now, as for the entertainment district...

i think that mission would be very mentally taxing (and of course physically taxing, but let's focus more on the stress and panic for now).

seeing tengen lose his arm like that, thinking he was dead... god, it would terrify them. they have grown to see him as strong and infallible, so to see him so weak and broken would be genuinely horrifying.

they'd cry tbh

good luck to gyutaro, though. bro is at the mercy of their rage. having learned from tengen, i wholeheartedly believe that his tsuguko would be able to hold their own against the demon for at least a little bit. long enough for tengen to recover, long enough for everything to go according to plan.

but, of course... tengen does retire in the end.

well.

the whole point of having a tsuguko is to have someone reliable to succeed their respective mentor, right?

tengen loves his tsuguko.

he knows they're capable enough.

he wouldn't want anyone else taking his place <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[hestzhyen]

What's in a Name? (Sazanami Clan)

Sincerely sorry for spamming you, dear void. Think of this as a purge of ideas that have been percolating around for a while but were never given time until now. Anyway, let's take a look at the kanji meanings for the Sazanami clan members' names! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Much like parents creating a name for their children, authors often put their wishes and intentions for the character into the name selection process. Kagurabachi is no different- the Saznami's names showcase how much thought Hokazono put into creating the characters to fit seamlessly into the story.

I'm not a pro at Japanese so these interpretations are based off of a lot of research only.

Without further ado:

漣 (sazanami, most commonly read as ren) means "ripple". An indirect reference to the inherited isou technique that uses shock waves?

More rarely, it can also mean crying or continuously flowing tears. A hint towards the horrible legacy they've got as a clan, perhaps.

Sazanami Kyora (漣 京羅) - Bizarre name.

京 (kyo) directly means capital city and is often used as shorthand for Kyoto city itself (京都). 羅 (ra) is for lightweight fabrics like silk or gauze... a surface reading is kinda weird. His name is "silk capital", huh...

In a name, 京 (kyo) can confer both grandeur and power. 羅 (ra) can confer the idea of a protective net, or a link of unity and strength. So in my mind, Kyora is meant to be the powerful, uniting force that protects. Protects what? Certainly not his kids! GOTTEM

Sazanami Soya (漣 宗也) - Soya is a special guy for many reasons... 宗 (usually read as mune) is associated with respect for family, ancestry, and following the teachings of a founder (in a religious sense). The so reading is actually pretty rare and means "origin" or "virtuous ancestor". In general it conveys a sense of the child being expected to honor the family's ancestors, legacy, and perhaps being the start of something new and special. Good good this is fine.

也 is pretty interesting too. It's archaic, for one. Thus making it a strange choice for a modern name. The most common readings of 也 (nari and ya) mean "to be" in the sense that something is certain to happen/occur, but there's also a less common one used here (ya) that is questioning- like "will it be?" or "is it"? And when it's included in a name, 也 (ya) often takes on a meaning like "also". In an abstract sense, ya here implies excitement for the baby being born, so at least he's got that going for him.

So IMO the most direct meaning of 宗也 (soya) is "another origin" in reference to his "love" being what helps Hakuri overcome Soya himself and start down his new path, with strong implications that he was expected to honor his family's tradition... but maybe wouldn't be able to. Cool stuff! And really depressing in the context that he was chosen to be the next head of the family! Did his parents not have high hopes for him for some reason? Imagine naming your kid "baby we're excited to have that will respectfully carry on our family legacy" while also throwing it in doubt by deliberately using an archaic kanji lol. Soya never had a chance.

Is that why he treated Hakuri the way he did once his little bro failed to manifest the talent he was assumed to have...?

Sazanami Hakuri (漣 伯理) Our favorite former boyfailure sure has an interesting name...

伯 (haku) means someone with a position of high authority like "chief", "earl", or "count". In a name, it conveys a sense of respect and admiration being due as the highest ranked person in the family. What audacity lmao. I think it's interesting that the middle child was given this name since haku also implies being obligated respect and admiration as the eldest brother/role model of the family. Should his and Soya's names have been swapped?

理 (ri) means reason/logic... and less often, justice or truth. It's interesting that this character was used instead of the more common 裡 (ri) that usually composes the full name (伯裡). This character is for something in the rear or the middle, inside or within- implying they're protected or sheltered. Name implications of 裡 carry connotations of inner strength, security, and comfort; a sense of belonging and connection. ...Things our Hakuri notably lacks. He was never meant to be a strong leader secure in his relationships and protected from harm, I guess. So let's look at why 理 might have been chosen instead.

There are many possible implications when 理 used in a name, but most of them imply that the child will be guided or helped along in a positive way. Whether by order and structure, logic and wisdom, deep empathy... any or all of them. So his name is something like "logical/natural chief" with the implication that something will guide his path through life. Fortunately for him and us, it happens to be empathy (RIP Ice Lady). Not escaping the swapped names theories though since Soya was supposed to be the logical, calculating oldest brother chosen to lead the clan. Hmm.

With all that context, this panel just makes me so... something:

Is there more to unpack with the Sazanamis after all? Is leadership a meritocracy or something? Because normally you'd expect the oldest son to have the duty passed on to him. Yet I'm not confident that Soya was always the first choice now.

But yeah, with a name like that, no wonder we see him being called special by Kyora at such a young age- Hakuri had a lot placed on his shoulders at birth. It makes me curious as to why he was apparently seen as a better prospect than Soya, but we'll probably never get the details.

Sazanami Tenri (漣 天理) - Another guy with a unisex name that leans feminine lol. Even more parallels to Chihiro!

A lot of fellow anime and manga fans will probably be familiar with 天 (ten)- meaning heaven, sky, sometimes God. No surprises there. 理 (ri) - the same one used in Hakuri's name- once again means reason/logic, and less often, justice or truth. In names, 天 (ten) also adds a sense of natural talent or gifts the child is born with (and we do see Tenri becoming the youngest member of the Tou ever, so he certainly was born with something special like his father claimed).

理 (ri) implications hurt my heart. He was also named with great expectations placed on him, but at least it's a relatively common name unlike his older brothers'.

I think a common, straightforward interpretation is usually best so "heaven's natural law" is the meaning I'd ascribe. But I do like the optional interpretation of "heaven's judgement" being there to echo Mr. Inazuma's "lightning of judgement" that Chihiro delivered on his behalf. Just a fun little thing for me to gnaw on. The additional naming implications make me think he was supposed to be guided by his natural talents to a bright future, but... well...

I kind of want a side story or episode zero about Kyora, Mrs. Sazanami, Tenri, Hakuri, and Soya before Hakuri was ostracized now. Why were they named like this?! Hakuri and Soya in particular have me going insane over implications for their relationship and why Soya might have been so cruel to him...

Anyway, thanks as always for letting me rant in your ambivalent ears, kind internet void. I'll be able to ride out the last hour or so of waiting for spoilers in peace thanks to you.

[itsgrimeytime]

Late Night Talking || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Dialogue Prompts: “Sometimes I just ... do this. It’s fine.” + “How long have you been sitting here?” + “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Summary: You haven't been sleeping -you can't. You weren't used to this... safety that Alexandria brought. Or, at least, they said it brought. So, instead, you found yourself outside, staring out into the wilderness -with no purpose other than to keep watch. One of those nights, you had a visitor.

TWS: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, mentions of walkers, hints of worthlessness, hints of paranoia, swearing, and crying.

Your nights were much the same within Alexandria walls, eyes locked on the gates as if they could fall any second. You watched on as the others found their places, jobs suiting them with ease. And you knew there was some tension in your group, mistrust with such a calm settlement. But you... you couldn't shake it.

But god, the kids... they were growing up... normal-ish. You honestly couldn't fault the place as you watched Judith in her crib, and Carl with people (friends, even) his age. It was wonderful, you could see the heaviness in their eyes dim, just for a gleam, and nothing could take that break away from them. But still... you couldn't sleep.

Not even with Gabriel on watch, and you knew his skills -hell, you trusted the guy really. It just...

Your fingers trailed across the wood of your porch, the empty streets so calm that it almost kicked in a survival instinct for you. Like you were missing something. There was always a danger. Always. You had to be missing something-

This wasn't possible. Not after everything.

So, when the houses were quiet and the streetlamps lit, you found yourself outside -staring at the faraway fences. It's not like you had a weapon, not since they confiscated them, but you'd rather put yourself in front of the others. They'd deserved life more than you could ever imagine.

It's not like you could turn off the instinct, you truly wished you could, as your eyes fogged up and your breaths hollowed out.

Someplace farther than you were now, you could hear them -the walkers. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't close your eyes with them in your ear. Not without a weapon close by. Instead, you sat on your porch, leaning up against the siding of the house you'd chosen just a few down from some of the others -the chill of the night was calming to you. Familiar.

The heat inside the home? The running water, electricity, the working locks, the comfortable couches... they weren't.

You weren't sure they'd ever be.

“How long you been sittin' here?”

The southern drawl was the first thing that took you out of your head, and somewhere distantly, you remembered the footsteps coming up to you in the night. You hadn't really noticed at first though.

You looked up at the man, who was freshly dressed -almost comfortable, in a set of clothes that wasn't unfamiliar but still seemed new. His eyes were solely focused on you, and his stance was one you could recognize -eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled in a way that you'd seen more than once.

"I don't know," you answered, tone gravelly with lack of use.

He pursed his lips, letting out a soft sigh, and took a spot beside you. So close your knees bumped together, and at this moment, it was comforting -grounding almost.

"You out here a lot?" he asked, tone curious but not accusing -he was treating you kinda like you were an animal about to scamper away and maybe he was right for that.

The first thing you'd always noticed about Rick was his stance, authority in the fiber of his being. His presence though, like if you closed your eyes and just breathed in... well, Rick... he was calming, a deep tone of ease could flood your whole system. He was safe, really, at least, he always had been to you.

And based on how the others gravitated towards him, you assumed it was universal.

You clarified, a little curt, “Sometimes I just… do this. It’s fine... It's not hurting anybody."

"Right," he spoke, eying you for a second longer than he should have -he didn't buy it you could tell. You didn't expect him to. You didn't really expect to fool anyone with the laxness of your voice and the dark circles deep under your eyes. They'd catch on eventually, you knew that. Better for them too, than some other group here.

Didn't mean you were ready for them to find out.

"Little birdie says you ain't been sleeping," his tone was soft, a whisper across the emptiness that was currently Alexandria -it was an observation, honest and genuine. You weren't sure how to respond, but Rick always had a way of bringing answers out of you.

You posed, a bite of playfulness on your tongue, "This birdie have watch duty?"

You told no one about your lack of sleep, didn't want to add to the workload, but with Gabriel on watch most nights -you doubted the man could miss you. Especially with how close you found yourself to the gate, some days you wanted to walk out -just to feel something more familiar to your past few years. The chilling fear down your spine, the rush of adrenaline to find a roof over your head, and the groans of walkers everywhere you turned. Yet, here you were... safe.

That's what they said anyway.

"Y/N, I know it's-" he began, before faltering off and turning his head elsewhere -watching the flickering of one of the lamps a few feet from you two, "-I know it's hard, to turn the switch off in your head. But we're safe here. The perimeter is locked down. There's a guard watching the exit all night. I've went through it a thousand times myself-"

"I can't," you interrupted, your voice weak and shaky -when had you gotten this tired? Your hands were shaking now, as they rested against your legs, the chill of the house siding buzzing up your back, "-Rick, I've tried. Every night I do."

His mouth snapped shut, as his eyes fell to your face again, the small beginnings of a frown forming on his lips.

"But, I just can't get them out of my head. W-When," you stuttered out, trying to articulate the feelings when they came, "-when they overran the prison, and I didn't see any of you for weeks, months maybe-"

"Y/N."

"I just can't. I can't do that again, it's like drilled into my head to stay awake, I have to... protect everyone-"

"Y/N."

"Do you know how scary it is?" you continued, eyes everywhere but him, "For them to be out there, and for me to be unarmed? They could get anybody anywhere, god, what am I gonna do if they try to hurt Carl or Judith-"

"Y/N, darlin'-"

You stopped, the deep drawl of his words finally hitting you in the face.

"You here?" He hummed, moving closer to you, and now your mid-thigh was brushed against his -the touch buzzing up to your head like a bucket of cold water, "-Can you hear me?"

You simply nodded, the big gusts of breath stopping your from responding. Eyes watering and the hollowness of the lungs, your eyesight blurred -not this again.

"Breathe, Y/N," he spoke, voice barely a tone above the wind, just for you, "-just breathe, alright? You're doing a good job."

You were barely operating then, the thud of your hear against your chest so horribly loud, and the shine of the lights smudging in your eyes. You couldn't focus not really.

"Look, alright," he spoke, a bit more desperate but still in control of the situation -as his hands raised but stayed at bay as he asked, "-darlin', is it okay if I touch you?"

With a slight nod he caught, his hands went to yours, long calloused fingers trailing around your wrist and bringing the hand to his chest. The flannel there was soft on your fingertips and you almost hadn't even noticed what he was saying.

"Look," he hummed, calm and still solid, "-breathe with me, okay? Follow my lead."

You watched, as your hand rising and falling with his breathing. It was grounding, the warmth under your fingertips and pattern of his breaths.

Inhale, exhale.

Your head stopped spinning, and your eyes cleared of their fog -gradual. You remembered how to breathe, as the rise and fall of his chest lead you into normalcy.

"Ya got it?" He hummed, curious and eyes looking up into yours as if he was trying to read you. He didn't move his hand's grip though, fingers wrapped around yours.

"Yes," you exhaled, tone less shaky, "-thank you."

Still, as you shifted from the mindset, his hand stayed on yours -the bubbling of you skin against his prominent. You pulled his hand toward you, tracing your fingers along the indentations of his palms. The motion was solid and flowing -relaxing in the crowding of your mind.

"Y/N, you have to know," Rick began, a whisper as he stared at your connected hands, the clean skin being a little odd to you. Smelling like a fresh shampoo and aftershave, Rick was a new experience but still, at its core was the very same. Safe.

"Know what?" you asked, details smudging in your own brain at the distance from him. Fuzzy and loose, your heart was in a rush.

"Y/N," he spoke, a tone that meant you should know, but you were preoccupied -detailing the creases in his hands. Like it was obvious, whatever he was addressing.

In a blink, his other hand that was not locked in yours moved to your face -tilting your chin up to have your eyes meet his. Long fingers guiding you up with the gentlest of presses.

His face lit up with a smile, eyes bright and wondrous, his fingers trailing up from your chin to the side of your face -cradling. You let go of his hand, laying gently in your lap between you two.

"Rick," you whispered, asking really.

He spoke, like it was the easiest thing to know in the world, "You won't get hurt here."

His face remained completely serious, as he looked at you -only stating what he knew to be sure. He seemed to be sure, like you couldn't move his opinion.

"You can't be sure-" you responded, eyes darting across his face -trying to find a place of uncertainty.

"No, I am," he interrupted, rubbing his thumb along your cheek, "-I am."

You leaned into him, easily, without any hesitation -you trusted him completely, and although all of this was new territory, you really weren't afraid. Rick had meant more to you, but what he was initiating was new -welcome, sure, but new.

"I-" he began a little distraught, almost as if his own emotions brought him to it.

He sighed, heavily, like it was hard to say. Like everything was fighting him in his own body. You furrowed your eyebrows, taking in his face which was currently screwed up in a sort of concern, nervousness even.

His eyes met yours again, as he pulled his other hand up -mirroring the other on your face, "Y/N..."

Rick's hold was gentle, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a feeling tossing in your stomach. His eyes stayed focused on you now as if he couldn't even chance to look away. Your face burned at the attention, and the fuzz of the night suddenly became... well, fuzzier.

"Not with me," he finished, making a point to match where your eyes darted, following you, "-As long as I'm here, you won't get hurt. I won't... I won't let you."

"Rick, you can't promise that-"

"I am," he added before you could finish and the tone was sturdy -as if would take everything in your power to change it. It was the way he spoke to others sometimes, serious and non-negotiable, "-I'd do anything to keep you, Carl, and Judith safe, you know that-"

"Rick, I don't-" you asked, staring at him now, "What do you mean?"

"I can't," he began, head falling between you two and there was something missing there, you knew it, "-Y/N, I'm not going anywhere without you, okay? And if that means running into a burning building to get you out, or kickin' someone's ass for you to escape... so be it."

Your voice was lost, over the tides of your stomach -you felt like you could hardly think straight with Rick so close. He was saying so much that your brain couldn't quite grasp, and maybe it was the lack of sleep but it seemed to be avoiding something. His hand moved to trail along your jaw, an intimate move, and suddenly, the situation became much more real.

"You have to know," he reiterated, tone soft and careful.

"I... I don't," you responded, curling your hand around his. The feeling in your stomach only triples at the notion -the flutter in your head. You didn't feel like you were really there.

"Well," Rick chuckled, pulling your head forward and pushing his lips onto your forehead, affectionately, "-maybe you should sleep on it?"

You frowned, the laugh breaking the hypnosis of well... Rick you were in and the heavy tiredness hanging onto you, "Not funny, cowboy."

"Cowboy?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow with a look you knew well -teasing.

"Rick, you really can't be surprised by that one," you hummed, giving him a look that seemed to push your point across and thumping your finger against his boots.

He shrugged, as if to say 'fair point', before pulling himself to his feet; the night was now much later, and you imagined whoever was watching Carl and Judith couldn't stay much longer.

You opened your mouth, faltering a bit, "Goodnight, Rick. Thank you for... everything. I don't know how to even-"

He stared at you, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, before recognizing the thought process you'd gone through.

"Nice try, sweetheart," he doted -his drawl loud and proud, holding his hand out, "-but you're comin' with me."

You pursed your lips, eyeing his hands with a discerning gaze, "What?"

"You're gonna end up killin' me," he muttered to himself before looking to you with a smile that sent your heart into overdrive -as he, without much effort, pulled you to your feet. He didn't let go of your hand then, even as you found yourself settled on your feet -he just stared.

"Rick...?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"You-" you stuttered out, your face flushed beyond any stage you'd ever seen, "You want to?"

Rick smiled, hands now on your face again, tilting your face to his, "Wouldn't ask if I didn't want to, darlin'."

Your words lost again, as you stared into his eyes, your heart loud and echoing through your head -you simply nodded. He didn't waste a moment.

The kiss was soft, careful, like you were almost breakable and he didn't want to chance it. Hands delicately holding you in place, guiding you to him and it was much more calming and natural then you thought it'd be. Your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, fidgeting with the curls mindlessly in the bliss of the moment.

Still, it was over too soon.

He stared at you, eyes shining in a way you hadn't quite seen before- and the creases by his eyes finding their purpose then. He'd always had a contagious smile, hadn't he?

"That clear some things up?" he hummed, thumbs rubbing at your dark circles like he could just wish them away. And maybe he could.

"You know what," you answered, smiling as the tiredness faded into your skin, "-I think so."

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eighteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hey!! Finally here with another part! This one took a while to write but it's here now. Hoping you enjoy it:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

He’d been pacing on the phone for quite a while now.

Back and forth up the long and narrow pavement sat outside of the small cafe we’d chosen just off the highstreet. His feet skimmed the curb every few steps, I noted, his brow furrowed and lips pursed too whenever he rattled something back to whoever it was on the other end.

“Eggy, mama?”

I blinked at the sudden voice, tearing my eyes away from the window and Matty, and back over to where my food-happy toddler sat in the adjoining highchair.

With a fond smile, I shook my head at his proffered bit of hard boiled egg. 

See, Matty had fancied a couple of soldiers when we’d first walked in, forgetting all about his earlier promises of bacon, and Teddy had unsurprisingly followed his lead. Looking down at his plate now, I was pleasantly pleased to find that he’d eaten the majority of it.

“I’m okay, Teds. Thank you though.” I told him, wiping a few breadcrumbs from his cheek with a napkin before tickling the underneath of his chin, “You’re such a sweet boy, you know?”

He bared his teeth at me in a giant grin, “Very much, ta.”

Chuckling lightly at his silly reply, I shook my head once more, “Back at it with the ta, are we?”

Teddy replied with only a stern nod and a wrinkle of his mouth, then dug back into his breakfast again, content to just watch Matty and the few cars that passed by the window.

It was a strange concept for me to wrap my head around- the whole Teddy and Matty thing, I mean. 

Teddy had always been an affectionate kid, a bit shy with newcomers and strangers at times, but his heart was huge and he had a lot of love to go around. Still, with that being said, the dynamic he’d struck up with the curly headed singer was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed from him before. 

With Adi, Teddy was always perfectly content to find new extremes and test them. Pushing boundaries and buttons simply because Ads was the biggest pushover known to man- at least when it came to him. 

Each moment Adi spent with Teddy she always ended up looking spent by the time she was about to head home, almost like he’d gone and dragged her through a circus tent full of performers and animals alike. 

Then there was Finn. Finn had been a constant presence in Teddy’s life since the day he was born, he was my best friend and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever I needed it. The two of them were close in their own way, Teds felt comfortable with Finn, he didn’t question his authority or throw a fit when the man put his foot down, but whenever I was around the pair of them together Teddy made it quite clear that Finn was the third wheel amongst the lot of us. 

Which was funny in its own way, I supposed, because I knew how Teddy looked at me. I was his mum, sure, but I was also his dad, too. Merely in the sense that Teds had never looked to anyone else to fill that role for him, I was what he had been given and I was all that he needed.

Yes, there had been the odd question or two when Teddy had finally started to understand films and tv shows, and again when he had started nursery school and seen all of the other kids with their mums and dads. But he had taken my honest answers on the chin and shrugged off any other prompts I’d had for him afterwards, as though he was perfectly untroubled by it all and the fact that he only had a single parent.

Then again, a few of the kids in his class faced similar problems.

Oliviette had only ever really known her dad, since her mum had sadly passed when she’d been too little to remember. Tury’s father worked in the military, or something of the sort, and was divorced from their other father. He went away for long stretches at a time and had only ever come to pick them up once in all the time that we’d been in attendance.

Zara was another young mum like me, we’d bonded over that fact a couple weeks into the school year when a few of the other parents had wondered over the whereabouts of our partners and then turned up their noses at us when they’d received their answer. 

Which led me straight back on over to my anxieties about Teddy, and how he might come to soon view Matty. As well as the question on whether Matty could even handle being seen in that sort of light, or if he’d run swiftly for the hills with his tail tucked between his legs.

These worries had started up quite quickly after seeing those articles we’d faced earlier in the week, which had only added fuel to the fire for me. Some of the headlines still haunted me and my waking thoughts, in truth. They flashed through my mind on a giant billboard sort of screen, visible for all to see.

JUNKIE ROCKSTAR TURNED FAMILY MAN!

A NEW LINE DRAWN FOR HEALY?

THE 1975 SINGER AND HIS HIDDEN FAMILY..

It was both a startling and terrifying experience to suddenly start considering the opinions and views of the entire world around you, which now appeared to be watching us under a microscope, reading into each and every move not just Matty and I made, but Teddy now too.

It was ultimately why I had run and hidden when it had all come out, choosing to avoid the whole situation at hand rather than face it head on and be met with a plethora of questions I hadn’t yet thought about.

But then Matty just had to have gone and sent me that fucking demo.

I’d been all but putty in his hands after that really. 

And the very thought of not just the previous night, but this morning too, had me flushing in the middle of the cafe Matty had taken us out to. ‘My treat,’ He’d said, and it had all felt so natural. Him being in my bed, in my shower, in my house, around my kid.

I heaved a heavy sigh before picking up my mug of tea, wrinkling my nose in distaste when I found it had gone cold. It made me wonder just how long I had been lost in thought.

That question was answered for me though when Matty came strolling back over, the crease in his brow there and then gone when he took to his seat once more and caught eyes with Teddy. He flashed the boy a bright smile, “Enjoyin’ that, monster?”

Grimly, Teddy opened his mouth up wide to show Matty just how much he had enjoyed his breakfast and laughed when Matty mimicked the expression, the man leaning in close enough that Teddy could only laugh giddily.

“Made a big enough mess of it.” I commented with a soft smile. 

Even with all my fretting I still couldn’t get over the way Matty treated my son and how Teddy responded to him in turn. It was incredibly surreal.

When I’d first gotten pregnant and decided to go it alone all those years ago, I thought that had been it for me. That there was no way any person, let alone anyone in Matty’s position, would just come along and be able to deal with the fact that I had a child. This whole other being that would always fall above everything else.

But here that somebody was.

Sat with my toddler, looking at him almost the exact same way I did. With such adoration and emotion. 

The sight made my heart both lurch and crumble all at once.

I pulled myself out of my head once more with that thought and tuned back in to find our waitress making her way over again. She was a sturdy looking woman, not much older than my mum if I had to guess, and had taken more than liking to the messy toddler she’d been shafted with early this morning, “Anything else I can get for you, lovelies?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that we were fine, seeing as though Teddy was all but finished, just chewing on a few pieces of buttered bread, and my sandwich was merely straggling bits of crust now. 

“Would be great if you could get us another round of drinks to go?” Matty piped up before I could answer her, circling a finger between the two of us. “Cheers.”

The waitress dipped her head at him and flashed a warm smile my way, “One tea and a strong flat white coming your way then.”

I was surprised that she’d recalled our order so easily, since I’d noted earlier that there were a few other patrons she’d been serving, and so I thanked her gratefully with another smile before she walked away, arms laden with a few of our used plates. 

“You didn’t have to,” I said to Matty shortly after, then dipped my chin down towards my remaining cup, “But thank you anyway, this had gone cold.”

Matty rolled his eyes, a gesture he was rather prone to using whenever he thought I was being unnecessary, but then shuffled over to settle more comfortably in the seat opposite me, leaving his phone to rest on the table between us.

“Sorry I was long, but after management, Jamie rang.” He confessed to me, and that scowl of his appeared for a split second or two before disappearing completely when he glanced back over at Teds, who was now playing with his food rather than eating it. 

It was almost automatic the way Matty moved to steal the backpack hanging off the arm of the chair perched beside him, pulling out a few of the baby wipes I usually kept there before beginning to clean up Teddy’s face and hands. 

I could only stare on in utter bewilderment, watching it all play out even whilst Matty continued to speak to me, clearly none the wiser to the way my brain had just short circuited at his actions.

“Anyway, they’re on it- or so they’ve said. But I know this whole thing is just a charade to them, yeah? Management, I mean. Not J. ‘Cause he’s already said that he’s trying to keep them from going too extreme with the whole clean up, claiming that they appeared to be warming up to the idea of me becomin’ this ‘changed man’ or some shite.” Matty scoffed with a roll of his eyes at the very thought, then pulled a face for Teddy who admonished him for his use of a ‘bad word’, and cleared away some of the mess that had been created whilst he’d been gone.

I swallowed thickly at the sight, thankful for the moment of reverie I was gifted when our waitress shuffled back on over, two to-go cups in hand as well as the bill.

“Ah, are we all clean then?” She cooed down at Teddy, moving to grab the last of what remained at our table to take back to the kitchen with her. 

Her expression brightened when Teddy not only shot her a mischievous grin, but also wiggled his fingers up to show her just how clean they were. Matty snorted.

The woman peered between the two of us afterwards, plates tucked into the crook of her elbow whilst both of our previous mugs sat cradled in the other. “You’re a lucky pair, he’s absolutely golden.”

My pulse spiked at her words, or rather what she’d interpreted our little excursion as, but before I could think to offer an explanation, or anything rather, she was already shuffling away again. Teddy batting a hand at her back in goodbye.

My gaze slowly drifted away from her retreating form and over to where Matty was now slouched, but he didn’t seem to have noticed her words, or perhaps he just didn’t care. Still, I blinked slowly at him, “Did you hear that? Did you hear what she just said?”

He pulled his eyes away from a now babbling Teddy and shrugged slowly, “Yeah?”

Yeah??

Sorry, come again? 

Had I actually heard him right?

I almost choked on the force of my next inhale. “That’s it? Just- yeah?”

Matty stared back at me, expression almost blank- calculating, in truth. As though he was trying to determine which of his next words had the ability to set me off even further. I sort of hated that.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked me slowly, elbows moving up onto the table’s top and pressing against it to lean in closer to me. 

His eyes never left my own, and it was then that I noticed the sturdy wall behind them that I thought had crumbled between us so long ago. He was wary now, building it back up again in hopes that I wouldn’t wound him- anymore than you already had, my mind unhelpfully supplied.

I licked at my lower lip, mostly in thought but also because my throat had suddenly gone dry at the very reminder.

It had been necessary, I told myself. Space and time, that was all that we had needed, and look at us now!

Look at us…

“I just,” I murmured, swallowing thickly whilst still staring into those hardened eyes which remained locked on mine, “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

That steely look softened when he snorted and the bricks in that wall of his began to chisel away at themselves once more. 

Matty slumped and I watched on as his gaze flickered back over to my son, who was now much more interested in the straps of his highchair rather than either of us. 

“Why would it?” 

Matty’s words were as gentle as his tone and his smile was just as sweet, and all I could think about in that moment was the abating panic I felt and the sudden need I had for him.

Shouldn’t it? I wanted to press, it would bother a hundred other men. What makes you so different?

He glanced back at me then with a languid turn of his head, “Guess it just makes me feel worth something, even if it’s a mistake on her part.”

Matty must’ve seen the way my face fell so quickly at his words because he chuckled lowly and then gifted me a small but pivotal smile. He reached out to toy with the hand I’d been resting on the table, fingertips trailing over whitened knuckles. 

“I’m just being honest, alright? He’s a good kid, anyone can see that. I mean she did, din’t she? And then, there’s you, Squeaks.” He dragged that last bit out, flipping my hand over so that he could trace the lines of my palm with the tips of his fingers. “You’re something else.”

I frowned slightly at his words, a little puzzled. Matty only laughed at the face I must’ve made before he finally took my hand wholly in his, thumb brushing over my ever rising pulse.

“If she reckons I could land someone like you long enough to have one of these little ones running round, well… Just makes me picture it, 'is all.”

I could feel the contents of my stomach whirl at his given answer and tightened my hold on Matty’s hand by a fraction, needing the certainty that he was in fact real. That what he had said was very much real too.

“Squeaks?” Matty pressed after a short while. I figured I must've been quiet too long for him to prompt an actual reaction from me. Either that, or he’d gotten bored of my gaping gob far too quickly.

I attempted to swallow around the hardened lump in my throat, but it was difficult. “Yeah, just-” I struggled to fathom the mere idea that he had thought about me in any scenario at all beyond the past six months we had shared. “You’ve actually thought about that?”

Matty rolled his eyes at me, and although his smile was warm, it held a fragment of uncertainty to it that told me all I needed to know.

“I’m getting old, darlin’. Normal to think about that kind of shit, ain’t it?”

That was a very Matty thing to say and my rapid pulse slowed a tad because of it, giving my poor pounding heart a break.

“Yeah, but with me, Matty.” I felt the need to stress, because it was only yesterday that everything had come to a head between us. It made me question how long he’d been holding off on me- had he been waiting, is that what this was? Had he been trying to get over whatever he felt for me? If so, what had changed his mind, or forced his hand?

He simply chuckled and shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“Yeah with you, Mouse.” Matty confirmed, squeezing my hand once more before letting go completely and swiftly getting up out of his seat to unclip Teddy from his highchair. “Wanna go pay with me then, little man?” He asked Teds and it was only when Teddy had been swept up into Matty’s awaiting arms and Matty had looked over at me to tell me he was going up to the till that I realised he had used my kid to escape the current conversation at hand.

I shook my head in disbelief and tried to steel myself into something a little more put together once he had left, instead of choosing the imminent breakdown my mind was rooting for. I couldn’t lose my shit with all these people around to bear witness. Because I could do that later, couldn’t I? In the comfort of my own home. Right now I just needed to…

Fuck, I could not actually believe that Matty had pictured a future with me. A. fucking. future. 

One that was ours.

The same stupid man that had told me time and time again that he would get headaches simply from thinking of the next few days to come, that he hadn't seen much of a life for himself the older he’d gotten. Even with all the money and the fame. 

My stomach was swarming again, just like it had done when I’d heard the demo for the first time.

I wondered, briefly, whether those butterflies of mine were instead moths merely looking for any source of warmth they could find, and if Matty could really be exactly that. My little bit of warmth.

“You coming then, Squeaks?”

I glanced up again to find Matty now grinning down at me, Teddy still bouncing happily on his hip and the spiderman backpack thrown halfheartedly over his right shoulder. 

I gaped for a split second at the picture they painted and then nodded, smiling up at this maddening man with all the warmth I could possibly muster. Hoping that somehow, someday, that little dream of his came true.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

–

It had probably been one of the most content mornings Matty had had in a long time.

He knew that for a fact, but still felt stunted by it all the same.

It had been years since he’d woken up without the immediate dread, or the itching need for a fix that even now sometimes still jilted him awake. And the night previous? Well, he’d gone to bed thinking of tomorrow, hadn't he? 

Stupidly, he wondered what his mum might make of that. If she’d be surprised, wary even. Or maybe just happy for him.

He’d been gifted some precious time and some precious people and he did not want to waste a single second of it. Although that could have hardly been avoided, what with the way management were constantly up his arse, hounding him incessantly about everything under the fucking sun.

The three of them had set off for food not long after he’d had a lapful of sleepy mouse first thing, they’d danced around one another whilst getting dressed, Matty watching as she brushed her hair and then catching her eye when he had attempted to wrangle an overenthusiastic toddler into his coat and boots. 

Matty had walked hand in hand with Teddy all the way to his car, letting the kid jump his way down the few short steps from the house and up into the car seat he’d borrowed from Adam a week or so after Christmas. Mouse had snorted at his shitty parking job, then granted them a full blown crackle when she’d torn a parking ticket from his front window screen only to have found a real unfortunate note from an unhappy neighbour beneath it.

Apparently Matty had to work on his spontaneity if he didn’t want to end up falling out with the bloke who lived two doors down from her. Even as he winced, he reckoned the guy was still a fucking nobhead.

He’d driven down a couple of backroads, letting the radio play and rolling his eyes fondly whenever Squeaks deigned it necessary to comment on his driving- “It needs work, Matty. I mean, you almost took out three of those bollards!” “Ah, a bus! Bus, Matty! Bus!” “Are you actually aiming to kill us, or do you just reckon you're the next 007?”

Matty had managed to get them all there in one piece, like he knew he would, and led the two of them all the way to this odd-spot cafe he’d found a couple months prior.

It was a simple dive, tucked quietly away amongst the noise of London, and was almost always chock-full of white haired pensioners or folk who didn’t much care to note who he was.

They’d sat down, Matty taking his first chance to ask for one of them highchairs he typically saw little kids sat in at restaurants, and then they’d ordered; Mouse getting what she deemed was her morning usual, whilst Teddy had mimicked his own request.

It had been cute, Matty had to admit. Especially when Squeaks had shot her son a dubious look, stating that he hadn’t tried it before, what with her being too scared she’d plague him with salmonella or something of the sort from how shoddy her attention was with the passing of time. Matty promised to teach her.

The little tyke seemed to have enjoyed it though, all but ravishing the yolks from their casing and munching on the sliced bread til it had either disappeared or simply gone soggy.

The only interruption they had faced was the unexpected call from his management team, and then Jamie’s which had followed not a minute after.

It had been a right nightmare. 

In fact, the whole of last week had been a total disaster. His team had been on his case the minute those articles had all been released, Twitter threads spiralling out of control and fans losing their minds over whether or not it was all fake or not.

And Matty, Matty had tried and failed not to let it get the best of him, but with that and the loss of Squeaks and Teddy, who had retreated almost entirely from his life. It had left him with a wound big enough for him to question everything. 

Matty shook his head then, a shit attempt at ridding himself free from his neverending train of thought, and looked up with a soft smile when Mouse wandered back into the living room and handed him a brew.

He’d never been overly gone on tea, to be honest- coffee worked wonders and with hours like his, it was now a necessity. But hers? He could never say no to, which was rapidly becoming a habit now. So much so, in fact, that he’d noticed himself wanting one at the oddest times of the day; down at the studio, in a meeting, the middle of the night…

Yeah that last one had been fucking strange. Half three in the morning and he’d been up puttering around his kitchen unable to sleep once the idea had taken root in his head and settled. Hadn’t been half as good as this though, Matty sighed thoughtfully as he sipped away. 

“So…”

His eyes immediately flickered back up to meet her, sitting all pretty on the end of the couch, an arms width away. “So.” Matty mimicked, raising his eyebrows then smirking at the way she shuffled in her seat and tried to hide her growing smile.

“We should talk.”

That smirk of his slipped right off.

He coughed slightly to clear his throat, but mostly to buy himself some more time, and then decided to get it on over with, pushing his brew onto the coffee table so that he could better face her. “Right, okay.”

She was chewing on her lip, a habit she seemed to have had ever since he’d first known her, but one which continued to drive him half mad. Even more so now that he knew what it fucking felt like to have her under him.

His tongue swiped his bottom lip instinctively at the reminder of it.

“You said it too,” Mouse reminded him, sounding almost accusatory. 

He had, but even so, it was still fucking awkward to just talk about shit. Couldn’t they skip to the good bit? Where he slowly took her apart piece by piece on the sofa she’d have to pass by day in and day out. A constant reminder of him even when he wasn't there.

“Matty.”

Matty blinked out of his daze at the call of his name and his eyes shot upwards to find her looking back at him with a furrowed brow.

“We don’t have to talk right this second, but I’d prefer if we did.” She told him with a slight shrug, eyes flickering away from him and across the room almost nervously. “‘Cause, at least I’d know where we stand, you know?”

Pursing his lips slightly, Matty tilted his head at her, “What’s that meant to mean?”

She shrugged again, sheepish almost, which wasn’t much like her. “Just, you’ve grown on me, Matty. I wouldn’t want to fuck up our.. friendship  over something like this.”

Matty knew what she was getting at there and it did hurt a little bit to think that she reckoned he’d fuck up what they’d built, what she’d given him, for a quick shag or whatever it was she’d filled her head with. 

But still, he gave her an impish grin once he’d shuffled his way a little closer, throwing an arm over the back of the settee. “Awh you finally admitting that we’re friends, Squeaks?” He teased and laughed when her foot flew out to toe his side.

“Bit more than that since yesterday.” Mouse murmured, giving him a snide smile before she released a heavy breath and settled her own mug down alongside his own on the tabletop. “But yes, we’re fucking friends, Matthew.”

Matty’s nose wrinkled but he didn’t comment on the use of his full name, instead stretching his fingers out to toy with the leg she had pressed against the back of the sofa. He lifted his eyes to watch her, saw how her own gaze rested on his hand and her knee.

“Good. Only took you, what? Six months.” He ragged but the smile he wore was pleased, dopey even. Stupid enough that he knew if one of his mates turned up and caught sight of it they’d probably rinse him to bits, claim he looked a right tit. But Matty couldn’t bring himself to care. Not then.

She rolled her eyes, but he noted how she was smiling now too.

“I’ve always thought you were fit, you know?”

A laugh escaped her then, brash and unforgiving. Matty would’ve been wounded had he not known her as well as he did. So instead he simply chose to flick her knee in harmless rebuke. “Don’t be a twat. You said you wanted to talk and I am. You’re fucking fit, Squeaks. Don’t let nobody tell you otherwise.”

She merely shook her head at him, the smallest smile limning that pretty mouth of hers.

“I’m being serious.” Matty tapped her knee twice with his fingertip, wanting her attention, “I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that.”

He recalled one of their earlier conversations and hoped that she somehow remembered, ‘I was raised by liars, can't stand lies.’ 

She licked at the corner of her mouth, eyes trained on him as though she was searching for something in his expression, but ultimately nodded when she didn’t appear to find it. 

“Anyway,” Matty smirked, leaning his head against his shoulder and continuing to hold her eyes, “Yeah, so I walked in expecting the usual. Some yappy older bird, who reckoned she was above me and all my fucking shit. Or maybe even someone who’d break and fall back on what they’d said once they were stood facing me. But nah, just you.”

“Just me.” She chuckled in that easy lilt of hers that he’d always found so soothing. In truth, he could actually recall asking her question after question in those first few weeks after they’d met just wanting to hear her talk.

Matty dragged out a hum, “You don’t even know. As soon as you walked out I was on you like a hawk, I swear. Just watching as you walked over, could hardly take my eyes off your legs.”

She snorted, “My legs?”

With a grin, Matty caught her ankle with his free hand and dragged her leg into his lap. “Fucking killer.” He told her honestly, letting himself have this moment to trail his fingertips up and over her thigh. “Then you looked at me with those eyes,” Matty’s own shot up to find them once more and shook his head slightly, “Made me dizzy having your full focus. Never seen a pair so intense, like they’d been struck by lighting or something.”

She rolled those pretty eyes of hers then and Matty pinched her leg, “I’m being serious, Squeaks. One of my favourite things about you.”

Thankfully she glanced back over at him then, her cheeks a tad bit pink but her smile bright. “I like yours too, you sap.” Matty's expression must’ve given way to how he felt about that because she was all too quick to add, “Don’t get cocky about it.”

He chuckled, liking the fact she knew him too well, and finally let his hand rest on her upper leg, though his thumb continued to rub gentle circles into the curve just above her knee. “I obviously felt something, Squeaks. Why the fuck else would I show up outside your studio only days later?”

“‘Cause you’re a stalker?” She teased but had relaxed further into the settee, stretching her other leg out to join the one he held. 

Matty ran his fingers up the underside of her foot in retaliation to that comment, “Brave.”

She snickered, “Thought you were just ‘in the area’?” 

Matty bit back a grin at her use of his earlier words, remembering how he’d been brimming with nerves whilst waiting outside for someone to show.

“I was,” He sniffed, and was pleased when she simply laughed. “But the truth? I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about you.”

Her cheeks hollowed themselves out as she tried to dampen the growing grin that threatened to overwhelm her face. It broke his heart a bit to know she struggled believing him, that no one else had ever gone far enough to drill the fact that she was fucking beautiful into that thick head of hers, but Matty was nothing if not stubborn and he’d strive to always tell her just how gorgeous he thought she was.

“What was it with that girl then?” She mentioned and Matty immediately frowned, confused as to what she was even going on about. “Your ex.”

Matty felt himself blink, mind reeling as he tried to remember what the hell she was referencing, but then it hit him. “Oh, ohh!” Then he chuckled, unable to help it really, and couldn’t seem to prevent the way it then dissolved into a slightly uncontrollable fit of laughter.

She levelled him with a hearty scowl and went to remove her legs from his lap, obviously none too pleased about being laughed at, but Matty stopped her just before she could.

“No, no, Squeaks. Babe, you’ve got it all wrong.” He attempted to console even with his still amused smile, leaning in closer now, his hands settled on her calves. “That was just for the press! Management team reckoned it would be good to rebuild my image, and I wasn't long out of rehab. She and I always looked good together but fought like fucking cat and-”

He stopped short and she snorted, “Mouse?”

Matty squinted his eyes mockingly, “Yes, dickhead. But no, it was all fake. Was only with her fifteen minutes before she swanned off to a photoshoot or something. Harldy even fucking remember it.” He paused then, “Hang on, is that- Is that why you went all quiet on me back then? That time before I ran into you at that bar?”

The way she evaded his gaze told him all he needed to know and then he was laughing again.

“Shut up, you absolute prick.” She huffed after a minute or so, having grown fed up with being his main source of amusement, and swatted him with her foot in hopes it would get him to follow the order. 

God, he’d never seen her look so embarrassed. 

“It’s not funny. You never mentioned it either, so what was I supposed to think!”

“Uh, not that?” He suggested, still chuckling away but actively trying to get it under control, sort of. “I’m sorry!” He laughed again when she kicked him, “Honest! But the thought didn’t even cross my mind. And we were hardly even mates then!”

She looked chastised, “We were mates!”

He levelled her with a look.

She held out for a bit before she finally huffed, “Fine, it was rocky but even so.”

Matty snorted, “No, you know what? I sort of like this side of you.” He teased, wrapping his hands around both her ankles and tugging. “Suits you.”

She sent him a well deserving glare, which was fair, before she dug her heel into his upper thigh, far too close to his dick for his liking, and sat herself back up again. “You’re such a twat.”

“So I've been told.” He sang, though he then rubbed at his tender leg with a wry grimace, “Shit, remind me not to actually piss you off.”

Squeaks shot him a grin and relaxed back into their earlier position. 

Her phone went off then and Matty watched on as she manoeuvred herself awkwardly around on the sofa to grab it from her back pocket without getting up. He raised a brow at her triumphant grin but she just looked down at the notification she’d gotten.

“Everything alright?”

She hummed, typing something off before looking back up at him and tucking the phone away again. “Just Finn, says he’s back home tomorrow and wants to see us.”

Right… the infamous Finn Matty had yet to actually meet.

“Where’s he been?” He asked, toying with the cuff of her jean leg.

“New York!” And the smile that she’d answered with told Matty a thousand things, “He had an auction up there or something, then ended up staying a few extra days to meet with this elusive client.”

“Shady.” He commented with a humoured smile, one he hoped would conceal his insecurities around the whole situation. 

He’d heard a lot about Mouse’s best mate, and these worries weren’t just down to the fact that he’d yet to meet the bloke, but also because Finn seemed to be such a big figure in not just hers, but Teddy’s lives. He’d been away a lot in recent months and Matty wondered over whether his presence would throw a spanner into the works once he was finally let back into the fold. 

“Very much so,” Mouse laughed, none the wiser to the chaos consuming his mind, “But I’m excited to see him, it’ll be good.”

Matty merely hummed.

She must’ve sensed some apprehension in it because she turned to tilt her head at him, playing with her fingers now. “Would-” She paused and Matty looked up to wait her out, she inhaled after a moment and then let the breath go, “Would you want to meet him? Or is that, I dunno, too fast?”

His forehead pinched and he shook his head. “No, not too fast.” He deemed, though he could’ve just lied and put off meeting the bloke for as long as he possibly could.

“I mean, we don’t have to put it in writing or anything.” Squeaks was quick to reply, “He’ll be around for a few weeks now, so we can just, I don’t know, work something out soon. Like meet at a cafe, a bar, the studio… here?”

She seemed to be spiralling a bit and although it was cute, Matty felt the need to save her, “Love, it’s fine. Whatever makes you comfortable. You’ve met the guys, and they love you, so-” He put his brave face on, “So I’m sure Finn will love me too. Yeah?”

He was met with a rapid nod, one that should’ve quelled his fears but only seemed to heighten them instead.

“So we’re doing this then?”

Matty blinked and lifted his chin to find her watching him again, that soft smile of hers back in its rightful place, looking pleased with how it had all turned out.

“What, meeting your mate?” He questioned her, having figured that much had been obvious, but then she was rolling her eyes at him again. 

“No, I meant- me and you.”

Oh.

Oh, he was grinning properly now. Like a massive twat, yeah, but how could he not? When she sat there looking all lovely and asking him if they could be something. 

“Me and you sounds good.” Matty murmured around the strength of his smile, fingertips diving beneath the hem of her jeans to tap the jut of her ankle bone.

He would've been embarrassed about it but he reckoned his grin was mimicked on her face and was all the more glad for it. Because he’d seen her smile and he’d seen laugh, but this grin. It was something else.

It wasn’t a difficult decision, his next move. Because before Matty could even contemplate it, he was all but throwing himself up the other end of the settee to cradle her head between his arms and catch her mouth with his.

She kissed him back with almost as much excitement, the pair of them smiling and laughing giddily at the stupidity and utter prospect of it all.

“Got you trapped now.” Matty breathed into the space between them not long after, eyes boring into her own. He hadn't been lying earlier when he’d claimed that they were one of his favourite things about her.

She barked out a laugh, hands falling away from where they’d been holding his neck to cover her face. “Was that a mouse joke?” She asked him through the gaps in her fingers, shaking her head at him.

Matty hadn’t really thought too much about his words, but thinking back he couldn’t stop himself from laughing too, bowing his shoulders to chuckle into the crook of her neck. “Fuck, I guess so.”

Her arms wrapped themselves around him again and so he nipped at the edge of her jaw, grinning like a fucking idiot.

[i3utterflyeffect]

anyway! a few thoughts on dark color gang:

all of them have virabands and they also have friendship accessories of varying types. not sure for all of them but i do think both Red and SC use hair ties

also i don't feel like pulling up my hollowhead sheet but they do have hair in this au like dark and chosen! i think it's a way that they try to make being a hollowhead less obvious at first glance (maybe i'll talk about it later)

red is actually considered the most intimidating because they seem like the nicest one because they're more social than the others (save maybe SC) but really they will get super intense on you if they don't like you. they are very nice but that's not a good thing when they don't like you

also red begged to have a pet virabot. they have one now ofc

yellow is still blind

glasses do actually make dark and chosen a little nervous though, and they're very self-conscious so they prefer contact lens(??????) if possible

they're VERY good at coding, and picked up a lot of things from Dark that sometimes Dark didn't even show them

they take a lack of validation very poorly

they definitely look for Dark's approval the most

blue keeps exploding the house

they love chemicals!!!! unfortunately this means that blue makes a lot of dangerous things!!!!

blue and the older siblings agreed on having a specific time for blue's experiments because once blue accidentally made a chemical reaction that made flammable gas and you can imagine how that went

blue really isn't too different they're just a mad scientist now

they still like to cook! they also like to experiment with drinks. they're too young to make anything alcoholic but they'd probably be very good at it

they're as much as a goofball as usual

they may or may not have exploded a part of town once by accident and they got lectured by chosen for needless destruction. they did cry so chosen just sighs and tells them to be more careful next time

green is normal

not even kidding. they just like music. they're just chilling. dark and chosen were surprised by the innocuous hobby but they were like hell yeah go for it

half the time just sitting in their corner and zoning out

whenever they get in on schemes they're always the planner and/or the one executing the plan

their ability to be exceedingly average can make them the stealthiest so they use this to be the so-to-speak 'scout' of the group

has probably been taken for witness reports whenever the authority is looking for the hollowheads and just shrugs and goes 'i didn't see anything sorry officers :('

Innocuous Person autism in general. like. masking so hard that you don't even notice they exist. 🤝

SC still LOVES humans

loves computers too! they like exploring computers and sometimes they steal things but they feel bad about it.

really mad that people assume that they're a bad person just because they're a hollowhead

becomes friends with Alan after the group accidentally stumbles into his computer!!!!

he ends up trapping the bunch of them rather than killing any of them, probably because the viraband protects them from being force quit

SC steals from his art program and everything just. kind of stops when they find out they have powers with the pen? sc is yelling in excitement and alan is like 'oh crap they can talk', and everything goes from murder to 'actually this is really cool can we hang out?' and surprisingly things worked out

Dark and Chosen actually didn't realize SC's interest in humans went beyond just studying them! they absolutely panicked when they realized they were not only being friends with humans but FRIENDS. WITH ALAN NOOGAI BECKER. (probably the startup for whatever the showdown equivalent is)

ALSO. sc is likely unable to use their powers still...... the others have been really supportive and encouraging, and they're aware that they HAVE powers, but anything involving their powers was basically only ever a spark at best! it's very scary for everyone when they use their abilities beyond that!

[thehappyvet]

In light of everyone coming down hard on Rachel for being too dark for snow white (but it's in the naaaame)

I'm going to bring back the essay from Rick Riordian when they cast Annabeth as a black actor (remember she's canonically a white character as well 🙃)

"You are upset/disappointed/frustrated/angry because a Black actor has been cast to play a character who was described as white in the books. “She doesn’t look the way I always imagined.”

You either are not aware, or have dismissed, Leah’s years of hard work honing her craft, her talent, her tenacity, her focus, her screen presence. You refuse to believe her selection could have been based on merit. Without having seen her play the part, you have pre-judged her (pre + judge = prejudice) and decided she must have been hired simply to fill a quota or tick a diversity box. And by the way, these criticisms have come from across the political spectrum, right and left.

You have decided that I couldn’t possibly mean what I have always said: That the true nature of the character lies in their personality. You feel I must have been coerced, brainwashed, bribed, threatened, whatever, or I as a white male author never would have chosen a Black actor for the part of this canonically white girl.

You refuse to believe me, the guy who wrote the books and created these characters, when I say that these actors are perfect for the roles because of the talent they bring and the way they used their auditions to expand, improve and electrify the lines they were given. Once you see Leah as Annabeth, she will become exactly the way you imagine Annabeth, assuming you give her that chance, but you refuse to credit that this may be true.

You are judging her appropriateness for this role solely and exclusively on how she looks. She is a Black girl playing someone who was described in the books as white.

Friends, that is racism."

Are you going after Leah like you're going after Rachel? Absolutely not. Rachel has been cast for a reason.

How about instead of trolling a poor 19 year old kid online, you give her a break?

We know literally nothing about the new film and y'all are cancelling her because your TikTok algorithm told you to 🙃

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Phone hacking and a dose of uncomfortable reality by u/Economy-Alfalfa-2241

Phone hacking and a dose of uncomfortable reality Many of us know this - don't bother reading if you know 🤗 - but it seems to me Clotface is desperately trying to reframe this whole hacking thing and it's just being repeated. But it was his fault. Why?His actual phone wasn't hacked, just his messages. Were they? Well, we're going back to the days Voicemail - young Redditors, clutch your smartphones in abject horror - was centrally organised with specific mailboxes allocated. Knowledge you could dial into anyone's messages if they hadn't reset the admin password was widespread and from that, you could frequently access the private mailbox of a client if they too hadn't password-protected or chosen a very easy one. Its barely hacking, it's just how the VM systems worked (I worked for one of the first VM companies here a few years before and the number of clients that didn't do this, despite warnings. I even managed to get into the Admin of a major telecoms company completely by accident by dialling through known options too fast. Oops. Sorreeeeed, didn't mean to. Tho I kinda wish I'd done something naughty with it 😈) and it was up to clients to protect themselves. Many....didn't. So how is it his fault? Because what happens is, when a security breach is found as it was by William, first thing you do is find the weak point and plug it. Admin passcodes were always the weak point and going back to original reports this seems to be the case. And at that point, Clotface can't argue he "didn't know" - didn't LISTEN maybe, but at the point it was known there was even a breach, everyone would have been told to change their personal codes. Numbnut wants you to imagine spy operations and shady cabals, but it was simply picking up the phone and dialling. That's IT. Fwiw, the admin password was usually 0000 or similar and there were only a few providers so it would be a piece of cake for reporters to know the basics and the admin codes are as basic as it gets. Chances are, anyone in the news, you'd probably give it a go if you were in that game - they likely had the work experience kid bashing in extremely basic codes every day then passing on any hits. And even the NotW gave up after hearing Captain Cockcreme telling himself jokes he'd then forget so he could re-access and laugh all over again - obviously eight (?) instances of him making farty noises and giggling was more than enough. Face it, Dimbo - you should have changed your password: you didn't. This whole ​PHONES HACKED WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIIIIIIIIE AAAAAAARGHHHH is just such an over-egging of an extremely dull pudding. By an extremely dull pudding.To me, these things - real phone tapping, intruding on personal calls, is serious. Dialling in an easily -guessed code on an insufficiently protected VM to hear messages isn't the same. Not saying its ok, but one of these things is not like the other...I shuts up now. Is it just me, or is this small "eh, everyone does it" vs real intrusion? post link: https://ift.tt/a7ZPn2M author: Economy-Alfalfa-2241 submitted: July 26, 2024 at 03:23PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[misscammiedawn]

Story Time - Call Me By My Name(s)

Story time are a series of personal life story posts about our history and experiences. We make an effort to voice them but the full text (and some images) are underneath.

It's late spring 2019 and we are standing in the lobby of a local hotel. It's long past 2am. Likely closer to 4am. We are wearing our movie theatre manager uniform, fresh from another lengthy shift that goes past 1am. The odor of popcorn clings to us like a phantom.

One of our two closest friends is mopping the lobby. We had stopped by on the way home to visit him at work. Our mind is drifting as we talk. Our imagination is conjuring images of streets and buildings half a world away.

"By the way [my husband] and I started calling you Camden when [your wife] isn't around. I didn't know if you would mind."

He said it so casually. Though it was the most natural thing in the world. They likely had no concept of how cataclysmic that moment was. For the first time in our three decades on this planet someone had given us permission to accept a name that we dared not claim ownership of.

It was offered without thought. Without expectation. Without cost.

Nothing could ever be the same after that moment.

And he was just mopping floors. Unaware of the gift they had just given us.

This conversation took place half a year before we formally came out of the closet. Those in our inner most circle; people who were closer than blood; were aware by now that we were closeted. It was hardly a well guarded secret.

Our chosen name was not difficult to guess either, as we shall soon learn.

But in that moment it came as a sobering surprise all the same.

Our two closest friends. Our family recognized us as a woman and without being asked, without being told; knew the name of that woman was Camden [Dawn].

(Rest of text below readmore)

-

The name Camden was first whispered into existence in 2001; on a Sonic The Hedgehog online community of all places.

The community had a fun little gimmick where everyone's screen names were attached to a character in an ongoing shared fiction that represented the message board. Every time the theme of the community changed, even for April Fools, it was treated as happening to our characters in this shared fiction.

We were young. It was silliness for the sake of silliness.

The admins and mods were a ruling council in charge of the "city" and its inhabitants.

One of the admins was our childhood best friend. Gossiping about the community had become one of our biggest bonding points and we would often tell her what was going on in the community when she was too busy with school to browse for herself.

We cannot recall if the term "Lackey of the MoFo" came from others or was something we branded ourselves with but it stuck.

Our character within the shared fiction was the Jarvis to their Avengers. The straight man. The butt of jokes.

In a world of loony toons, fursonas and Sonic OCs we were the normal and non-powered human.

Craig the Lackey.

In story he was a normal kid. Raised in an orphanage, which says interesting things about how we viewed our parents after our stint of homelessness. His characterization was that he was "sane" within that wacky world, that word, "sane", came up often in posts about him.

He worked hard, was the butt of jokes and just repressed it with a smile on his face. Took it and kept on marching forward. Much like the person writing his posts.

He was kind, helpful, well behaved, stuck close to authority, did as he was supposed to. He was a good boy.

But every now and again when we browsed the community we would get upset. Early signs of our BPD no doubt. Moments where our repression couldn't stick and we lashed out.

People noted this was what happened when we got Stressed.

and as everything that happened on this board was lore, Stressed Craig was added into the roster of characters. An alter ego who we turned into when we got too stressed out.

The term we used on the board was "ego shard". Alter would have been more appropriate but we were decades away from being diagnosed with DID at the time.

Of course. This isn't about our disorder. This is about our gender.

We had mentioned that forum events were canon within the lore of the ongoing story in the forum, correct?

2001 was when the Pretty Sailor Soldier Sickness event happened.

Every person on the board was encouraged to make a new account with a Sailor Moon inspired version of their normal character with the lore saying that a virus had spread through the forum turning everyone into a magical girl. Those who pretended they were immune were mocked in posts and written to be in denial in the lore.

We created our avatar ourselves using an SNES sprite of Sailor Jupiter.

We named her Camden.

Camden, Stressed and Craig made up the first original characters we ever wrote. They were all "me" in every real sense. We did not lie. The character we played was just ourselves. The guy who had to work hard to keep a roof over his head while he struggled to pay the bills. Not yet 20 and already with the weight of the world on his shoulders. The stressed version was something buried that was yet to be unearthed.

The Sailor version?

Why did it feel easier to write her? More fun?

We depicted her as an alcoholic. She was angry. She didn't care about reputation or having to do work. But she was desperately lonely and unfulfilled. She felt like she was living half a life. She knew she was not Craig and somewhere in her heart that made her feel the deepest sorrow.

We could only enjoy the pockets of gender euphoria sandwiched in the truth that we were a man. We were a good boy. We were not allowed to be angry about our situation. We were not allowed to lie.

She represented a lie. A version of us that was everything that existed in our hearts that was not allowed to come to the surface. The lie she represented was that the mask we wore, Craig, was a performance. The obedient and respectful son who we needed to be to avoid rejection and pain and poverty.

...but we had already been rejected, hadn't we? Holed up in our eminent domain, alone in the world spare for the people in our computer and at work?

Pretending to be him didn't protect us at all. Did it?

...aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go a little apeshit...?

The Sailorness event ended. All the events ended. People went back to their regular posting.

But we kept the Sailor account. Why not? In the lore the Sailorness Sickness had been quarantined to its own district. But we did not recall the virus creating clones. So if Camden and Craig were truly two people then we'd have to justify that in canon.

We'll spare you the story but the key thing to note is that since 2003 until we left the forum in 2012 the three versions of us were one. Born as Craig, yes, but converted to Camden via the Sailor Sickness and as there was no cure, Camden she remained. The Craig and Stressed after this point were psychic projections that even Camden did not know she was transmitting. Craig continued to be the "main" account the entire time. But as we typed each post we knew all too well he was just a projection of Camden. Someone who still, to the end of her time in that story, believed that Craig was the one who got to live The Life. Someone who always felt like she was not allowed to express herself or become or exist.

If the posts did not exist in archive it would be difficult to believe we had written such direct metaphors for our gender and dissociation 20 years before embracing either one.

-

Camden stuck with us. Like a longing presence that itched within our mind. She made no sense outside of the context of that one forum and yet the idea of her remained bouncing within us. Begging for recognition.

Begging to be the one with The Life.

Her chance would come and then be denied when our first World of Darkness tabletop campaign was being prepared. We were so nervous about this new and scary hobby and wanted to play it safe. Play a character we knew.

Camden seemed as good a pick as any. Something about being able to present live at a table was alluring in ways our egg brain could not comprehend. We pitched the character Camden Dawn.

Our wife did not like this idea. She stated discomfort at the idea of us playing a female character... and... though the gravity of this event would ripple through years, though ultimately this discomfort that never truly went away would contribute to the ending of the marriage, I shall not dwell upon the negatives or speak ill of someone I loved for most of my life.

I can not assume her motivations and find it unfair to editorialize over our past like this.

Suffice... Camden was put back inside and instead Tyler Dawn was the character played. Camden was made to become his older sister. A non-playable character.

Tyler's plot could fill its own Story Time segment, particularly in how he was a window that the Friends-we-called-Family used to witness our gender identity and potentially our undiagnosed dissociative disorder.

Years after the tabletop game had ended and we had run our own sprawling tabletop game about mad science and isolation; Camden started featuring in our custom playable characters on mobile games, Pokemon Go being the most recognizable example.

We were compartmentalizing our gender expression and identity heavily in this portion of our life. Much of it is still not fully clear this far into therapy but Dawn had come into being and had her online life within online kink communities. Her own name had not yet been selected, though she had a few she cycled through such as Sapphire and Honoria.

Cammie had long been accepted as this immature ball of affection that was called Kitty, so normalized as part of our general expression that no one even questioned the fact that the pet name only felt appropriate during certain moods.

Wynn, though not recognized as her own entity at the time, was identified as "Miss Manager"; the movie theatre boss that friends would see us transform into when our phone went and we were forced to put out fires, sometimes literal.

It was the Camden/Craig divide that remains the hardest to spot as more and more as the years went on the repressed gender identity became harder to ignore and the South London boy who acted the way his father expected was away from his roots, culture and origins.

It makes those pockets of time where we could type our name as Camden and play a woman on the privacy of our cellphone all the more comforting.

Our tiny little Family of friends could see the screenshots and trade requests. It was never supposed to be a secret. It was just private. As not to trigger that ever present discomfort our wife displayed at our female presentation.

So it would go on.

And then the other couple in our little circle began calling us Camden.

...and we couldn't go back...

To this day we do not know why our ex-wife resisted the name so hard. When we went to an event in 2019 presenting as Camden for the first time, she argued that the name itself is what bothered her and even pitched Kitty as an alternative.

Maybe she resented the privacy of Camden? That she was a name and a part of our presentation that she was not privy to? As I mentioned... at this point the line between Craig and Camden was a blur. Again. I will never know. Gender and identity were topics we were not able to be fully honest about that side of discovery. I truly have no idea how it looked from the outside and have, after divorce, apologized to her for our inconsistent and unfair behavior; noting the fact we cannot tell how fair we were even capable of being given the hidden nature of our disorder.

Even still.

The first time our Friends who were Family spoke our name was love and recognition.

...

The day she called us "Camden" was the day our marriage truly ended.

We have spent a lot of time turning over that event in our head. Each alter viewing the memory from their own perspective and putting their own spin on it. We have recalled it so many times that there's no way it is a factual representation of what happened anymore.

She wanted us to tell her what to do. What to say. To find the right words.

A concept so many who denied our gender have tried and failed in the years since we came out. To learn the language and perform the act of acceptance. Not change the way they thought. Change the way they behaved.

Maybe it's unfair to hold someone to that standard but we made it clear in the argument that lead to the event. We couldn't tell her what to say or how to behave. We told her that hearing the name Camden made us happy and feel recognized and comfortable. That we wouldn't force it but it was lovely when it is offered.

Maybe the way Camden remembers it is the true way and we used the wrong words, failed to bridge the gap.

Maybe the way Wynn remembers it is right and we were callously twisting the knife, refusing to let her off the hook or give her an easy out.

Maybe Cammie is right and we were panicked and trying to placate and were too terrified to stand up for ourselves.

It doesn't matter.

The result is the same.

"Camden!"

Funny.

In that hotel lobby the name was spoken so naturally and normally. Like of course the name of the person standing here was Camden. It's always been Camden. Didn't you know that?

The universe realigned itself to ensure that truth was sealed into all of time and space. History rewrote itself to make true the entity within this heart who over an imperceptible shifting of states had replaced the entity whose name matched our birth documents. Craig was a mask. He always was.

A spell had been cast in that lobby in the middle of a summer night and even though we consider Camden as an identity to have been created in our late teens. The 4th alter in our system. She became our the face we wished to reflect to the public. In a way she always was. Ever since she emerged to handle things when our family kicked us out. The body just needed some time to catch up.

On that October afternoon when our spouse spat those same syllables at us. Demanding to know if it was what she wanted us to hear; a different spell was cast. History shifted again and this time bonds that felt immutable were broken. The past changed to reflect the fact that there was no future.

...it's so sad how quickly that can happen. Hearing a single sentence or reading a a few words can just shatter a heart and ruin everything.

We left her a week later. Started going by Camden full time within 3 months.

...the Friends who were Family we left a couple years later. The spell that time was "I do not want to be bloodbond, family-style close." and I'll be fair to the man who wrote it... I legitimately do not believe he knew those words broke us. That it made us feel like that powerless 17 year old being tossed out on the streets again. A fucking stupid reminder that even to those we considered Family we were expendable, disposable and ultimately unwanted.

That's my baggage to bear. Not his.

Either way, I couldn't honor his wish. I still can't. So I did the only thing my heart could tolerate. I left.

I'll always be grateful for the fact that the pair of them cast that first spell that allowed us to claim the name we so desperately longed to hold. Maybe we never needed that external validation and recognition but it felt like we did. It meant the world and so much more.

To us that original magic spell was the most dramatic shift of our life. People knew us and loved us and trusted us so much that they could see our hidden face and knew it by name. But it was spoken so casually. So thoughtlessly.

Just a "by the way" inserted into a conversation. One of hundreds of casual reminders of affection at a time when they were needed.

It sincerely wasn't a big deal to them.

Then again, in 2019 "it wasn't a big deal to them" was this magical and beautiful thing. That's just how much they loved us. How could they see us any other way?

But... maybe it wasn't a big deal to them and he honestly had no idea how big of a deal it was to us.

I guess we'll never know.

[beefrobeefcal]

Imagine it’s like hot as hell, the guys are having a barbecue there’s a pool ect, ect. So Frankie has his shirt off and forgets that mouse scratched his back while they were getting a little wild in bed. Maybe Benny is like ‘damn, fish you get mauled by a bear?’ And Frankie is a little embarrassed and blushing.

A good prompt. A GREAT PROMPT!

I love a good pool party. And so does our fav chubby guy!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3----------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Unrestrained Summer Fun

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader (Mouse!)

Summary: After a night on the couch, Frankie has some explaining to do poolside.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 1,625

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), little bit of insecurity/self-esteem stuff, bikinis, sunscreen application, beer

Author's Notes: The Chubby!Frankie love is fabulous! It's shorter and was banged out in an hour and not proofed. Enjoy!

__________________________

“Frankie… oh fuck… baby… I-I can’t!!”, you cried out as he pounded into you.

Friday nights were usually reserved for cuddles on the couch with a good movie, but after a shit day at work and then being stuck in traffic on your commute home, you needed a release. Frankie, your sweet, gentle, soft, chubby guy, was now fucking that into you on the couch in your den.

“Come on, princess… give me another one… you can do it… come on, Mouse…”, he growled through gritted teeth.

He’d already pulled three orgasms from you, twice with his mouth and one on his cock while he fucked you from behind. He then changed positions; now you were under him, his weight pinning you down, as you gripped his shoulders while begging and pleading.

He continued his relentless pace as he leaned down, putting his full weight into every thrust, making you see stars. Circling your clit with his middle and index fingers, you arched your back, crying out as your nails clawed into his back, your fourth and final release ripping through you body.

“That’s it, princess… oh fuck… I got you, baby… so fucking good… so good… fuck… FUCK!”, Frankie moaned as he came into your tight, warm pussy.

He collapsed on top of you, both panting. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the raised marks you left from your nails.

*****

Will and Hannah were hosting a barbeque at their new house the next day. Given that it was going to be one of the hotter days on record, you were thankful that their new house had a pool, ready to be christened with a summer patio party. You had a cropped, loose t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts over your swim attire, and Frankie was in a white t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and chest along with his chubby middle and his swim trunks sat low on his hips to accommodate his protruding belly and muffin top.

You and Hannah had gone shopping for new bathing suits last weekend; when you modeled the neon pink string bikini you’d gotten yourself for Frankie, he had expressed his appreciation for it in the best way possible – slowly untying it then devouring you. Hannah had chosen a baby blue one piece with cut outs, and she already told you that Will showed as much excitement as Will could when he saw it.

Arriving at Will and Hannah’s around noon, you were ready to enjoy the sun and the cool water with your friends and family.

“Fish! Mouse!”, Benny called out from the pool when he saw you. Benny was splashing around, trying to soak Santi while he sat pool side. “Come on in - the water’s fine!”

You walked to the poolside to dip your toe in the water, feeling the perfect temperature for a day with that kind of heat.

“I’ll get in if you do.”, Santi said, looking up with a grin, thumb then pointing at Benny. “And we can take turns dunking this stupid fuck.”

You laughed and walked back to Frankie, taking off your shirt and shorts. A wolf whistle came from poolside, and you heard Benny yell, “That’s my fucking cousin, Pope, you perv!” at Santi.

Frankie glared at him, then saw Benny yank Santi into the pool with a loud yelp and splash. He shook his head and saw you smiling.

“Look at those big hands. You wanna help me with my sunscreen, big guy?”, you crooned, poking his belly teasingly.

“Mouse…”, Frankie warned as he looked you up and down, a blush creeping up his face.

“What? You want me to burn?”, you whispered close to his face as you ghosted your mouth over his lips.

“Oh, baby girl… what am I gonna do with you?”, Frankie growled, pulling you to close the distance between your mouths and kissed you, his hands gripping your waist.

Will cleared his throat behind Frankie as he came out of the house, causing you to step back and place a chaste kiss to the end of Frankie’s nose.

“Hey Fish… how’re you doing?”, Will said, looking just as embarrassed as Frankie as he clapped him on the shoulder. Turning to you, he continued, “Hey Mouse, how- Jesus, that’s not much of a swimsuit!”

You rolled your eyes, “Hey Will. It covers what it needs to.”, you jibed back.

Shaking his head with his eyebrows raised, he sighed and waved a pointed finger at you. “Make sure you have sunscreen on, because… yeah.”

Frankie got the tube of sunblock, pulled you to sit on the lounger in front of him, and began rubbing it into your back. When he finished his application – and groping - of your body, he grabbed your waist, pulled your back into his chest, and chided you quietly. “You’re a bad girl, princess. Wearing that and teasing me in front of everyone. You sure you wanna play this game?”

You batted your eyelashes at him and stood up. Smiling at him over your shoulder, you walked to the pool.

After about 20 minutes of having your fun in the water with Benny & Santi, Frankie wandered poolside with a beer in hand.

You looked up at Frankie and hopped up to sit on the pool deck, legs dangling in the water. Hannah came out in to join you, sitting down with her own beverage.

He squatted down next to you, offering you a sip of his beer.

“You look fucking amazing, princess. You ready to go yet?”, Frankie whispered as he wiggled his eyes brows.

You shook your head smiled at him, as Santi started calling out.

“You comin’ in for a swim, Fish?”, Santi cackled, splashing at Frankie.

“FISH! DO A CANNON BALL!”, Benny screeched.

Santi and Benny both splashed and chanted CANNON BALL! CANNON BALL! at Frankie. He shook his head and laughed. “Fucking children, you two!”

He stood and walked back to his chair, then removed his shirt with his back turned to everyone. You heard Santi bark out a loud laugh and Benny hollered out, “Jesus, Fish! You get mauled by a bear or something?”

You head shot up and turned to look at Frankie. Mouth agape, you saw the deep red marks you left across his wide back and shoulders as Frankie railed you on the couch last night. Your face went beet red; Frankie whipped around and looked at you, his face the same shade.

While he was a little worried about any potential teasing he would get about his growing belly or how much he ate, he was not prepared for this. He would have preferred they poke fun at his increased weight than point out your claw marks.

“It’s always the quiet ones! Atta boy, Fish!”, Santi called out, fist pumping into the air.

Hannah gasped and with a wide grin, nudged you. “Mouse… oh my god! You’re a fucking animal!”, she laughed with her eyes wide.

Will walked up behind Frankie, eyeing his back in confusion. “Fish, what did you do to your back? It looks like-“, Will stopped, realization hit him and his eyes went wide, staring at you. You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

Regardless of his strong friendship with and his respect for Frankie, Will still regarded you as his little, young, innocent cousin that he needed to protect. Benny, on the other hand, was a free spirit with sex and was the first person you told when you lost your virginity - nothing was too sacred with him as long as you were happy. Will was glad that you found that happiness with someone he knew and trusted, but it didn’t make it any easier when there were blatant displays of your sexual escapades in front of him.

“Fucking hell… Mouse…”, Will finally huffed with a headshake as he walked over to the barbeque to start cooking hamburgers.

“Girl. Really? It’s that good?”, Hannah giggled, leaning into you.

Before you could answer, a huge wave of pool water washed over the two of you from Frankie’s cannonball, followed by hoots and cheers from Santi and Benny.

Frankie popped up from under the water and swam over to you, hands on your knees and looked up. “Hey princess. You good?”

You were still red with embarrassment and Hannah laughed next to you. “Frankie, please tell Will what ever you did for those marks of honor. I need that in my life.”

“Hannah!”, both you and Will yelped in unison.

Frankie groaned, sinking into the pool, leaving only his eyes and nose peeking above the water line.

Santi and Benny swam over to Frankie, shit eating grins on their faces.

“Mouse… what the hell did you do to our Fish?”, Benny teased.

“Yeah, what did he do to you to deserve this abuse?”, Santi barked in mock-seriousness.

“Guys, come on!”, you whined. “Drop it!”

The guys pulled Frankie back out into the water, splashing him, and demanding he answer their crude questions. Frankie laughed, but the blush on his face remained.

“Seriously, Mouse.”, Hannah whispered to make sure no one else heard. “He’s that good? Hands, mouth, dick? Tell me everything! How many times did he make you come?”

Frankie watched you and Hannah giggle as Benny and Santi continued their barrage of questions. While he didn’t know for sure what Hannah was asking, he did see you respond with four fingers up on your hand before you hopped back into the pool. He had an overwhelming sense of pride at the shocked look Hannah gave you as you bobbed in the water.

“Four times, boys!”, Frankie shouted as he flopped back into the water. Benny and Santi cheered.

____________________________

TAGLIST:

@harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @theywhowriteandknowthings

[jackshade21]

Revisiting Transformers Beast Wars

I loved Beast Wars as a kid and after talking with a friend of mine I started a re-watch of the series since I hadn't seen it since I was like 7.

The CG and sets are terrible in that way that only early 90s CG can be, which is to say it was amazing for the time but is put to shame by today's standards but that adds to the charm.

Some of the dialogue is kinda hokey but it was a kid's show and some of it is still pretty great. It can get irritating with a third of Megatron's lines being "YEEESSSSS" at first but then it starts to grow on you and you'll find yourself doing it.

But the writing and character development is great. With a veteran Star Trek writer, veteran Transformers G1 and G2 comic writer, the co-creator of Wolverine and Swamp Thing, and the co-creator of Marvel's Blade and DC's Teen Titans on the writing team it's hardly a surprise. Unlike a lot of other things I loved as a child the writing really holds up and its still incredibly entertaining. I mean Beast Wars isn't called the series that saved the Transformers franchise for nothing.

I love that the Maximals are explorers, that Optimus Primal is first and foremost a researcher and not a military leader. They were each chosen for a set of skills for an exploration mission that happened to also be useful in the impromptu war they find themselves in.

I love that the Predacon crew are essentially space pirates and thieves that just happened to steal the magic golden disks from Cybertron that started the whole thing. They're bumbling and the reason for that is that they're shitty space pirates with delusions of grandeur.

Then there are my favorite characters. Rattrap and Dinobot.

Dinobot, former Predacon turned Maximal, is the veteran warrior with a penchant for spouting Shakespeare-esque monologues who took the form of a velociraptor. He challenges Megatron for leadership like 2 seconds after being introduced cause he thinks Megatron is an idiot. Gets his ass handed to him and then leaves to join the good guys...as leader, gets his ass handed to him again but joins them anyway. He is gruff. He is violent. He is sometimes at odds with the Maximal way of doing things. But he has his honor and you know where he stands.

And of course Rattrap, a sarcastic wise ass talented in espionage, demolitions and marksmanship with a penchant for getting into places he isn't supposed to and huge Little Shit Energy. He chooses a rat as his beast form because they're survivalists, small, sneaky and again can get into places they aren't supposed to be. He has problems with authority. He questions orders. He's irreverent and focuses on survival. He can be self-centered but when the chips are down you can count on him to have your back.

Honestly, rewatching it has led me to discover that I have a type when it comes to favorite characters cause if I were to compare him to any other fictional character it would be Rocket Raccoon. Right down to the New York/Jersey accent.

Side Note: Imagine my absolute delight discovering that Rattrap and Dinobot are shipped together often and in a Enemies to Lovers type way. Plus, guuurrrllll that size difference tho. (Gimme them fanfic suggestions >.>)

[horizon-verizon]

Fire and Blood: Aegon II

[revised, from the older 2022 version]

This is a Headcanon and are subject to change (except the part about him being a rapist). You are welcome to disagree with them.

Before the Dance

Aegon was born to Viserys I (29-30) and Alicent Hightower (18-19) a year after they married. Despite being a boy and Alicent's/Otto’s pressing, he did not replace Rhaenyra as Viserys’ official heir and Viserys even dismissed Otto for "hectoring" him [definition: talk to (someone) in a bullying way.; browbeat; intimidate]:

And unlike Rhaenyra (ten years his senior), aka “The Realm’s Delight”, he never had the blatant or apparent admiration of the courtiers, peasants, etc. Rhaenyra also was definitely Viserys' favorite child (Aegon may or may not have known this, but I think it's primarily bc she came from was the first and only child he ever had during a slew of lost children with Aemma, so Rhaenyra could have been a sort of "miracle" child) and all their lives, they heard and saw Viserys protect Rhaenyra's rights over what they saw as theirs, esp Aegon's.

Early on, he and his brothers developed resentment, then hatred, for Rhaenyra and her first three sons: Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon.

The enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was passed on to their sons, and the queen’s three boys, the Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, grew to be bitter rivals of their Velaryon nephews, resentful of them for having stolen what they regarded as their birthright: the Iron Throne itself. Though all six boys attended the same feasts, balls, and revels, and sometimes trained together in the yard under the same master-at-arms and studied under the same maesters, this enforced closeness only served to feed their mutual mislike, rather than binding them together as brothers. (F & B; “A Question of Succession”)

Image Credit: doug wheatley from Fire and Blood

Imagining how Aegon’s Childhood/Development (God, why....)

In a feudal society, individualism (or the way we conceptualize it) as a priority is not a substantial concept shared amongst the different populaces like it is for some societies today. You may come from a noble house with a distinctive history, image and notable deeds that shaped the customs of the land ruled. Or you are the ruled--the peasant that are told to work for the nobles. Of course, it’s way more complicated when put into action and in real life, with rich merchants, illegitimate children, etc. having sometimes influence enough to present an economic and political opposer and negotiations done. But generally, a feudal society is shaped by what role you play in maintaining the hereditary cultural order above most else, with the militant lords owning multiple tracts of k[land the serfs and peasants worked on their entire lives.

Here this kid is learning from a young age that men customarily inherit the final and nearly absolute authority and power over the House and the household, much less an entire country and its inhabitants. He knows about male-preference primogeniture. Sees that aristocratic and royal children learned about their own house’s history--that it is tradition or a precedent for sons to inherit power, and traditions usually define the identity of a house and its members as well as the relations to each other (Brackens vs Blackwoods; “Winter is Coming”).

But aside from a girl being chosen over him, he also learns that his father, Viserys, was able to ascend despite being the son of a second son because the lords were allowed to vote for him based on the principle that a man and those of the male line are the “best” and preferred leaders. Troubling the precedents of both undemocratic succession and male primogeniture. If he even thought about this deeply at all, we don't know.

If we’re going by firstborn male only-primogeniture, Viserys would be undisputed as heir. If by equal primogeniture, it should have been Rhaenys Targaryen who ruled, and then Laena Velayron after her. Viserys’s whole line, in another world, would have been mere secondary princes/princesses, then lords/ladies.

Yet, he was not chosen by the former king, but chosen by his own future subjects. Yeah there were EU elective monarchies, but that this is not a society where you did that to have a new monarch and it reduces the power of a monarch. Neither Jaehaerys nor any Westerosi monarch--Targ or not--wanted that.

So: But isn’t a king supposed to be made by the last king? Even with Jaehaerys' choosing and allowing the lords to choose, they still were those he decided to be the "final" deciders of who would lead them. There is this contradiction or paradox of monarchial leadership and succession: what the king desires then rules and what his subjects want from him and in a king. Even with Jaehaerys' choosing and allowing the lords to choose, they still were those he decided to be the "final" deciders of who would lead them. As if this were some sort of Spartan oligarchy. there is this contradiction or paradox of monarchial leadership and succession: what the king desires then rules and what his subjects want from him and in a king. 

Once again, the bit abt the GC of 101 is all more IF he actually spends time thinking this deep abt Viserys' ascension outside of how it should have made him also Viserys' heir and how it instead made Rhaenyra Viserys's seemingly biggest pride & joy. If he does or has at all thought about this, he's repressed its implications for him if he were to ever rule: that his own claim is vulnerable to circumstance of others’ various and changing desires, that he is vulnerable to others.

He also would have heard the courtiers, Alicent, her ladies-in-waiting, his wet nurse and other nurses, her brother Gwayne and father Otto, and even other servants talk about Rhaenyra, Viserys, the TArgs' state, etc. in whispers or aloud as he went his way around the Red Keep, constantly talking about the succession. Some would say how Rhaenyra is so cool, so beautiful, so precocious (not Alicent or Otto). Others that she doesn’t deserve the crown for her gender or her character, being so hostile to Alicent (his mother).  

Whatever the truth of these allegations, there was never any doubt that King Viserys still meant for his daughter to follow him upon the Iron Throne, and her sons to follow her in turn. By royal decree, each of the Velaryon boys was presented with a dragon’s egg whilst in the cradle. Those who doubted the paternity of Rhaenyra’s sons whispered that the eggs would never hatch, but the birth in turn of three young dragons gave the lie to their words. The hatchlings were named Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. And Septon Eustace tells us that His Grace sat Jace upon his knee atop the Iron Throne as he was holding court, and was heard to say, “One day this will be your seat, lad.” (Fire and Blood; “A Question of Succession”)

Alicent and Otto could have felt that to convince Viserys to change his mind, Aegon will have to be presented as the better option or the "perfect" prince while play at Viserys’ heartstrings or desire for family and harmony. And they'd likely be doing this from babyhood until his more resistant teen years. So they may dress him from the moment he can be in group gatherings to create images suited to the persons they anticipate will see him at particular setting. Parties? Dress him up in intricate colors reminiscent of a king. Alone with the king at breakfast? Dress him up in subdued colors and simple stitching, maybe even have him just wear white to connote innocence and make him that much more attractive to engage with. Let everyone else also see how “bright” and “comely” Aegon seems. (Of course, he never manages to get a moniker like Rhaenyra celebrating his personality, so that would have quickly failed.) Not only with dress him, but instruct his behavior from as early as when he only begins to understand to obey so he may receive positive attention.

You can go into abuse territory like what was hinted at the episode 7 when Otto dragged him & Alicent slapped his face because Aegon, seeing how nothing he does or they do convinces Viserys will get him to change his mind, will just give up and "enjoy" the things that being a prince does entitle on: brothels, drink, food, and in his case, a beautiful dragon that he could rationalize also exudes, in its beauty, what he feels could be or otherwise already in him. It all also speaks to his sense of masculinity, and the SA and rapes he commits could be how he takes back control from his father and Rhaenyra though he may not always consciously think of them. Again, different directions. The more he doesn't allow Alicent or Otto to prince him up, the more profligate and uncaring he will be, and the more abuse they can both try to enforce onto him. He could have felt he was playing a game he never asked for, become a sort of trapped puppet, which in turn will feed into his feeling of victimhood and rage when Rhaenyra doesn't submit to his ascension (as us bk readers know).

Effect

So in all, Aegon, being a child and not being around his father 24/7 (partially also since kings aren’t like other noblemen and peasants, having separate apartments and doing several duties apart form their children), Aegon likely didn’t feel that Viserys truly saw him as worthy to inherit the crown as Rhaenyra, . So Aegon may have felt that his father thought him “worse” than a girl (which is sexist thinking). In spite of the importance that a lot of people around him place on custom, tradition, and precedent. Being a king--or being seen as deserving of it and conflating that with a father's love--speaks to his gender identity as a a trueborn firstborn man in this society because Alicent and Otto both would have impressed on him that it was so both indirectly and verbally. And everything in this world is valued through its given gendered properties: male (active; hard; fast; strong) vs female (passive; soft; slow; weak). Which brings us right back to how he self affirms/distracts himself: his dragon Sunfyre, alcohol, and sex/sexual assault.  

Sexual assaulters and rapists are losers. They rape and SA because it makes them feel more powerful than those they feel should not have power yet they see sometimes do or think they do. Often, when they can’t confront the real contender, they go after those that they can hurt with less consequences to themselves.

So, it’s easy to see that Aegon develops an "interesting" (not a positive connotation) inferiority complex. Everything that he is, it would be compared to Rhaenyra as well as all the other kings that have existed. Even by his mother and Otto. He is not the center of his world, Rhaenyra is.

In other words, he also still enables his own loser-dom.

Ironically, his dependency on only what pleasures his body can give him would not have likely endeared him to others around him (even his own siblings), because he is so emotionally stunted, resentful, and impatient--even with the statues he had commissioned later after his brothers’ deaths.  But I don’t think he was especially close to Aemond, Helaena, or Daeron because of the dissociation and because he himself is a way for Alicent to protect the others, creating another heavy obligation--which is one feature of ASoIaF. His family would have been together more for duty than love.

Duty vs Love

The statues were meant to "pay back" his dead brothers, reduce some of that guilt, and show his subjects how generous to those loyal to him will be treated & paint himself as a good king. It's a claim on the land, that he and his family can do what they want with it, because he is king.

Being made to feel like a device of duty and ambition perhaps wouldn’t encourage his already compromised ego into intimacy, creating an emotional void. Alcoholics are not commonly free with their affection either, especially when they are men. His siblings also might have looked at him as their future, or as an assignment. A duty. Someone to support for the kingship more than a friend. And the emotional voids each of them have would accentuate and affirm this.

The Dance

And what about his coronation? Runicter, Septon Eustace and Mushroom all refer to Aegon being away from the keep when Viserys died and Alicent brought the council members together in the green council. Two of these sources say that he was having sex--Mushroom with a more scandalous claim than Eustace, but actually correct as Eustace. confirms the garlic the girl (12-13) and tries to make it sound better by saying she was a merchant's daughter. (Class rather than the fact that he, a grown man, is fucking a preteen without it "even" being a forced arranged marriage, which just makes it so much the worse!)

Aegon even protested being crowned at first, one of them being that he shouldn’t “steal” from his older sibling--if we were to believe Eustace when he says that he eventually gives in when Criston Cole mentioned how Rhaenyra would not spare him or his family if she wanted her own illegitimate sons to sit safely on the throne.

However, Aegon did a quick switch up after he got his crown, and I think this just shows that he always wanted it (or the validation, really, from it) and didn't actually need much persuading bc it was his time to shine and show how great he could be to his dead father and all those who witnessed his profligacy. Prove how how great he is by showing how well he could protect his family by defeating his enemies.

One could say he accepted becoming king out of fear of Rhaenyra, esp after Alicent & Criston both told him what they did AND they never got along or spent time together. He likely has no idea or real knowledge of this older sister who lives apart from the rest of them for almost his entire life and only comes by for parties or the odd viist to their father, sitting on the table and rarely speaking ot each other. Like a distant aunt rather than a missed sibling. To this argument, Aegon might have felt he had to become king so as to be the King/the military commander before she can become Queen notably so she can't take him off guard and seek to kill or punish him and when Alicent has already the council and imprisoned the courtiers. But what drives me to think Aegon actually welcomed the crown even when he refused at first is because he still had the chance to keep refusing and lock his mother, Otto, & Criston in a protracted stalemate. They'd have to knock him out to really get him to appear before an entire crowd to be crowned, you can't crown a kicking-and-screaming or unconscious person, like they probably did for Daemon to marry Rhea Royce. So, I think he likely bent bc, again, hit was the final temptation, the opportunity to make himself worthy.

Thus Aegon II would have likely felt a strange euphoria after being crowned and “officially” becoming King. The final thing that stands in his way from completely consolidating power, validating himself, fully realizing his role, and affirming his manhood...is his more popular sister. again, they never got along or spent time together, so in this state of him feeling himself he’d be eager to get rid of her and his nephews through violence and dragons. 

Yes, it’s kinslaying, but:

he likely doesn’t feel her to be real kin and he is a character who depends on his sensual experiences as well as those things that symbolize power for self worth--Rhaenyra’s emotional and physical distance is too constant for him to see her as a true sibling

Rhaenyra is openly against Alicent, his mother

Rhaenyra is both a woman and the person keeping him from getting what he’s been owed for all his life

he marries his other sister, Helaena, and wives are not really the type of equal that we modern folks and non Targs would consider our spouse to be--royal siblings are not just siblings -> they are his subjects and if they are women they are also his sexual partner -> he has learned to see more as devices to show power or that which is mostly under his authority---Targaryens do not usually regard their siblings as just siblings. Quite literally, a sibling could be or become everything and anything: lover, enemy, peer/friend, child/dependent, superior, subject, etc. Depends on circumstances. How adaptable 👀.

So with every pushback like how Rhaenyra’s supporters coming out the woodwork, her supporter’s military wins...it’s no wonder he was ecstatic at Lucerys’ death at the hands of Aemond and the claws of Vhagar. Targaryen might seems on his side.

Aemond Targaryen...who would henceforth be known as Aemond the Kinslayer to his foes...returned to King’s Landing, having won the support of Storm’s End for his brother Aegon, and the undying enmity of Queen Rhaenyra. If he thought to receive a hero’s welcome, he was disappointed. Queen Alicent went pale when she heard what he had done, crying, “Mother have mercy on us all.” Nor was Ser Otto pleased. “You only lost one eye,” he is reported to have said. “How could you be so blind?” The king himself did not share their concerns, however. Aegon II welcomed Prince Aemond home with a great feast, hailed him as “the true blood of the dragon,” and announced that he had made “a good beginning.” (F&B; “A Son for a Son”)

Perhaps this is one of the only moments that he actually felt close or obtained intimacy with Aemond. Or feels like he has. Aemond helped him out, so he's praising Aemond for being what Daemon is to Rhaenyra. An enforcer of his own will. Aemond proved himself to be an agent that will “prove” him and his strength and kingly authority. Aegon sees Aemond apart from being this guy who’s better than him in the physical stuff, like a warrior. And with Aemond and seemingly the entire kingdom at his side, Aegon felt he could take on anything.

It's when Dameon takes Harrenhal with barely a scratch and when more people declare for Rhaenyra against him, with the green's total surprise, that this arrogant euphoria starts to diminish and morph into something like the doubt and helplessness he's felt before being crowned. So when he’s butting heads against Otto for what he thinks is inaction, he is showing frustration at Rhaenyra display a seeming competency or luck over him that he can't handle or help to compare to before Viserys died:

AND

"The Red Dragon and the Gold"

With Criston’s encouragement to show his strength and his son Jaehaerys’ murder, it gets to a point where he flagrantly dismisses Otto’s bids at less violent attempts to cow Rhaenyra, and it definitely leads into his decision to put himself in danger and fight with Aemond against Rhaenys and Meleys.

That was the first time he ever used Sunfyre for battle and it came with grevious self harm and harm to his dragon: he got many burns, broke bones and Sunfyre’s wing was incapacitated enough that he had to be left behind for a time in the field to be fed and recover, while Aegon also stayed in bed for the rest of that year. He had to be carried around in a litter when he wasn’t sleeping.

And later, when he finally escapes King’s Landing and reunites with Sunfyre at Dragonstone to recover, he must have generated enough sick anticipation and rage to kill Rhaenyra through his dragon in front of his legitimate nephew’s face. Before then, he had flown Sunfyre again only to be attacked by Baela and her dragon Moondancer. In that altercation, he got even more injuries, shattering both of his legs. 

Both were mistakes that began as him, again, trying to prove himself AS WELL AS revenge after years of being pushed into a more “feminine” passive position. The Rook's Rest fight was also him trying to make Jaehaerys' death mean something, a new motivator of that long, deep desire for affirmation, even though he probably loved his kids...in his way.

Broken and burned both those times, but specifically talking about the first for now--now he’s in an even worse passive position than he had ever been in, where he has to stay put and still be carried in a chair. Now that his body is actually broken, he feels a "crippledom" & uselessness worse than before. Worse and similar to how he’s been told to depend on those he felt in his way and worse/similar to when he was just a prince. When his life meant being a comparison to Rhaenyra.

In his second time getting burnt and broken by Baela & Moondancer, he attempts to mimic his coronation flight on Sunfyre but that affirmation is also denied to him. He is not allowed to land on Dragonstone as its master, or as a dragon (since he'd been hiding and recuperating in the caves on the island...dragons "live" in caves naturally) but a sort of mangled alien.

In all this time, he has, maybe in his eyes, been “disproven” and flouted as the rightful Targaryen heir. But like Rhaenyra with her position as heir for many years and others denying her, he is not going to just give up after having been king and been crowned for some time. Not after gotten the injuries that would have stayed with him for all his life if he had been allowed to continue. He probably felt that he had to hold onto his claim more and give meaning to his losses, despite also feeling like a cripple. Maybe he felt that his father’s dismissal of him came from a real place and he wanted to banish that feeling through cruelty. 

After Rhaenyra’s Death

Image Credit: doug wheatley from Fire and Blood

I believe that by this time, Aegon was so desperate to hold onto the power he had finally “assured” through Rhaenyra’s death. But as proven later, people still fought against him.

He refused to grant clemency to those who had supported Rhaenyra (as Jaehaerys I did w/Maegor's followers) and to even cut off pieces of his nephews to intimidate those still fighting. He wanted all these people, those who will not accept him, dead and when some actually appeared to be close enough to threaten him, he took Alicent’s suggestion to mutilate Aegon III/the Tounger. That, his open distrust of Corlys, AND the plan to later kill Corlys when he's no longer of use to them--divulged by Larys Strong-prompt Corlys and Larys to put their plan to assassinate him in action (“The Short, Sad Reign of Aegon II”):

“Your Grace,” the Sea Snake said, when the rump of the once proud green council had assembled, “you must surrender. The city cannot endure another sack. Save your people and save yourself. If you abdicate in favor of Prince Aegon, he will allow you to take the black and live out your life with honor on the Wall.”

“Will he?” King Aegon said. Munkun tells us he sounded hopeful. His mother entertained no such hope.

“You fed his mother to your dragon,” she reminded her son. “The boy saw it all.”

The king turned to her desperately. “What would you have me do?” 

“You have hostages,” the Queen Dowager replied. “Cut off one of the boy’s ears and send it to Lord Tully. Warn them he will lose another part for every mile they advance.”

“Yes,” Aegon II said. “Good. It shall be done.” He summoned Ser Alfred Broome, who had served him so well on Dragonstone. “Go and see to it, ser.” As the knight took his leave, the king turned to Corlys Velaryon. “Tell your bastard to fight bravely, my lord. If he fails me, if any of these Braavosi pass the Gullet, your precious Lady Baela shall lose some parts as well.”

Yeah, he’s a charmer, this one.

Lastly.

None of this is to say that he deserves the throne and it should be given to him or Rhaenyra should just give it to him (fuck that!), that he is a good person, or that he deserves to be allowed to do what he wants--it is to say that he is a perfect example of feudal patriarchal purity and thus a terrible human being who chose to use women’s bodies as if they are toys. 

Going by the trailer alone AND by his given character behavior/traits in F&B, I think Aegon is one of the better adapted and acted characters of the show. Let's hope they will at least continue that with him.

[assortedseaglass]

Come Back To Me - Chapter Six

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers

Author’s Note: Thank you for being patient with me while I write this chapter. So folks, here we go…

Word Count: 3.5K

Late afternoon faded into early evening, and London was once again coming alive. School kids, their uniforms disheveled, ambled home. Restaurants were setting tables and chairs outside their premises, a few punters already drinking Aperol Spritz and Bellinis. Cyclists sped past the unmoving cars, desperate to be out of the heat. Billy watched as a tourist stepped into the road, only to be shouted at by a man clad in lycra on a racing bike. He rubbed his face and felt a trickle of sweat run down his back.

Billy’d never known a hotter July. Usually, his birthday week was spent away from the city. Away from the noise of a crowded London, with heat emanating from every building and body. As a child his birthday coincided with the summer holidays, and his parents always took him and Lana away to the south-coast seaside for a week. Looking back on his childhood, Billy could measure birthdays in ice creams, sandcastles and beach barbecues. Last year, he had been moping over Becky, who had initiated the first of their many breaks. Ida drove him down to Dungeness, where an old boat house full of friends waited for him. There was Sofia and Faisal, Joe from school, she’d even managed to get a few of the lads from football to come down. They had fires on the shingle beach, cooking fish the boys had caught that morning. They drank until only embers were left in the fire. Talked until their voices were hoarse. Spent the mornings swimming in the cold sea and afternoons reclining on the hot pebbles. Looking back, Billy thought that was the last time he belonged anywhere; at the edge of the world with a few people that had chosen to love him. Now, he was alone. Sweating in London traffic as he drove to pick up friends he imagined didn’t even know his surname.

PING. A text from Lana.

Billy, where the hell are you? It’s not funny now. Police called saying you missed a meeting with them!? Mum and dad are going spare.

He ignored it. They’d called him yesterday, singing happy birthday down the phone before launching into a tirade about where he was. I’ve gone away with friends for a few days. Birthday bender. That’s what he’d told them, anyway. Somehow, he wanted the truth; that he’d spent the morning at Gwen’s before getting drunk and sleeping on a pub floor, to stay hidden.

PING

“Christ, Lana.” Billy was about to silence the phone when he saw the name on the screen. Ida.

Hey, I know you don’t wanna talk, but just give me a message to let me know you’re alright. Hope you had a good birthday, I.

Two things happened simultaneously. Billy’s heart fell to somewhere around his stomach, and his thumb reached out to press the call button by Ida’s name. He stopped. An image of her tear-streaked face looking up at him as he pressed his body against hers flashed in his mind. Instead, he called his voicemail.

You have no new messages, and one saved message. Saved messages:

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Billy, happy birthday to you. I hope you’re ok, Bill, wherever you are, and having a good birthday. Don’t get too drunk.

They laughed sadly.

I left your birthday present at the flat, I hope you like it. It’s Ida, by the way.

To play this message again, press one. To save it -

He pressed one and listened to her sing him happy birthday again. Listened to her sad little laugh. Listened to her clarify who it was, as though he didn’t know every inflection of her voice by heart.

On and on he drove, wending his way through thoroughfares and back alleys. With each turn in the road that took him closer to his destination, he tried not to think about Ida. Or his arrest. Or the disappointed looks of his family. He cranked up the radio, the bass thumping and causing the old car to quiver. Popping some gum in his mouth, he nodded his head to the music. He couldn’t let the lads see him being his usual pathetic self. This was a chance to reinvent. To leave the past behind him –

PING

Mate. Can you call me? I’m with Becky

Fuck. It was Lana again. Truth be told, he had had too much to drink yesterday, and by his 7th or 8th pint had made some questionable calls to his ex at the prompting of his new mates. Sure, Becky had treated him horribly and kicked him to the curb, but no-one needs voicemails of drunken shouting left on their phone. Billy rang Lana immediately.

“Billy!”

“Can you put Becky on?” God, he needed to apologise.

“Where are you? Sounds like you’re driving?”

 “I’m driving to meet my mates. Let me speak to Becky.”

“What mates?” Thanks, Lana. “Anyone I know?”

Billy huffed in annoyance. “Just mates, Lana. Why? What’s going on?” He leant his arm against the window and rested his head on his hand. The traffic was slowing again, but no matter, he was almost there. A large group of people was up ahead, blocking the road.

“Listen, Billy, I’m not with Becky. I just needed you to call me.”

“You’re not with Becky?” He didn’t understand. “What do you mean? Why?”

“I need to talk to you. You’ve not been answering my calls, you’ve not been about,” Billy could hear panic in her voice and it only made him bristle more. Did they not think he could look after himself for one day? “Where are you driving to? Billy? Billy!?”

“Fucking arsehole!” A man shouted through Billy’s car window as he drove slowly through the crowd. Billy stuck up his middle finger and carried on. His mates were around here somewhere and if these tossers wanted to block the road then it was their problem, not his. A few people banged on the windows.

“Billy, where exactly are you?”

“Farringdon Tube Station,”

“Sounds busy, what’s going on? Billy, why are you there?”

He looked around at the signs they were holding. Antifa. Against the Far Right. All Are Welcome Here. Realisation was slowly dawning on him. Lana was still shouting at the other end of the line. “Billy! Listen to me. It’s important. What are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

“I was meant to meet the lads here. ‘Outside the tube’, he said, but I can’t see him. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

Lana sighed. “Billy, why did you drive? Was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mate asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.” The crowd were moving away from the car now, and Billy couldn’t see his mates anywhere. His voice grew quiet. “Yeah, he’s set me up, hasn’t he? They’re having a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads.” He smiled faintly, if only to stop himself from screaming. Abandoned, again.

“Billy,” Lana’s voice was hurried now. “These new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

“Lana, what are you on about?” He leant against the window once more.

“Nic. Nic Roberts!” Billy’s mind remembered the large man Warren had introduced him to. “He’s…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

The world stopped for a moment. The heat of the day disappeared and the roar of London died. He thought back to when Warren introduced him to Nic. His opinions were a little extreme for Billy but he had been kind, welcoming, taken him under his wing. Everything came back into focus.

“You’re winding me up,”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking winding you up!?” Lana screeched, though she sounded panicked, not annoyed. “Have any of them been near your car?”

When he’d told the lads about his car, Warren said he knew a guy, Tommy, that could fix it up. All the men had chipped in and called it an early birthday present. It was him who Billy had been driving to meet. When he gave no answer to his sister, she continued. “Look around. Is there anything different about it?”

“Eh?”

“For fuck’s sake, Billy! Listen to me! I need you to check the car for me, ok? Have a look under the steering wheel, or under the footwell, anything that you can see that might be unusual.”

Billy’s voice was small and distant when he replied. “Right, yeah,” His hands followed Lana’s instruction. He grazed them along and under the steering wheel. Nothing. Around the mirrors. Nothing. Under the radio, knocking over some rubbish as he did. Nothing. Under the passenger seat. Nothing. He lifted the foot mat…

“Lana, there’s some masking tape underneath the foot mat,” His breath shuddered as he heard Lana sigh.

“Alright, ok. Can you really carefully lift up the masking tape?”

Billy hummed nervously in assent, slowly peeling back the mat. “There’s…there’s a wire, Lana.”

“Can you see where it’s leading to?” Her voice was urgent.

“Erm, th-th-the glovebox.” Billy hands were shaking and his breathing ragged. He held the catch of the glovebox a while, preparing himself for whatever was to come next. Ida flashed into his mind, and he pulled the handle. “Fucking hell,” he shouted, edging away. “Shit, shit, shit. It’s hooked up to summat. Looks like a bomb.” Panic flooded him. “I’ve got to get out of the car.” He fumbled for the door but Lana shouted.

“No, Billy! Do not get out of the car!”

“If it explodes I’m done for, I’m gonna die,”

“Do not get out of the car! You just need to stay calm and listen to me, alright. Here’s the plan. You need to drive away from the Tube. The police are looking for a safe location.”

A horn beeping behind him made Billy jump, and slowly, he pulled away.

“Right, we’re gonna go to Cranstead Fields, Billy. You know the way, yeah?” Billy almost laughed at the irony. Of course he knew the way. Of course that was where he was going to die, he’d spent so much timing living there.

“Yeah, I know it.” He could see the lads from football that he had grown up with. His favourite tree to climb, and the best one to shelter under. The view from the opposite end of the field, back to his house. Ida on the swings with a can of cider in her hand.

“I’ll meet you there. It’s gonna be ok, Billy!” He rubbed his eyes to push back tears. Would it be alright? Did Lana really know? “When you get there, keep the engine running, alright? Don’t press anything, don’t open the door, don’t touch anything. Stay still, I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

The first real waves of fear were beginning to wash over him now. “You’ve gotta tell mum and dad I’m sorry, yeah? And Ida,” His voice cracked.

“Billy, tell them yourself. You’re gonna be fine. I’m about five minutes away. Just stay calm, stay focused. I’m nearly there, alright?”

He nodded to himself, trying to brush images of his family from his mind, when a small beep sounded from the glovebox. Billy leant forward. “Shit, Lana!”

“What? What’s happened?”

“There’s a timer, Lana. There’s a fucking timer.” Eight minutes, counting down in red digits. “Shit. SHIT!”

“Listen, Billy,” Lana could hear his panic, hear him pounding the steering wheel.

“Fuck!”

“I’m gonna help you, I swear, but you need to focus, ok? I just need you to concentrate on getting to the park. You’re only a few minutes away. When you get there, drive straight onto the field and it’ll be fine, I promise. You’re gonna be safe.”

Billy’s phone vibrated. “Fucking hell, Lana, my phone’s gonna die.”

“Billy? BILLY!?” The line dropped and Lana swore. Somewhere not far away, her little brother was speeding towards Cranstead, heart full of terror and all alone.

*

Ida spent the rest of Billy’s birthday at her grandma’s house, helping her in the garden. When the Washingtons pulled into their driveway, she hurried indoors. Only hours before, Ida had told them they were a useless family, screamed in their faces and run away. She hadn’t mentioned this to her grandma, but when Gwen caught Val’s stony gaze following Ida’s retreating form, she surmised that the Washingtons had felt her granddaughter’s fiery wrath. It was no secret, that neither Ida, Billy, or even Gwen, liked the way the Washingtons treated their youngest.

Today, the pair were tackling the vegetable plot at the end of the garden, which backed onto Cranstead Fields. Her bare feet enjoying the warm dirt beneath her, Ida was busying herself with the sweet peas that stood next to rows and rows of green beans. She was tying them into small posies so that more could grow, while Gwen harvested a few of the courgettes and their flowers. Ida felt most content outdoors, working with her hands. She often imagined a life for herself, working as a researcher or teacher then coming home at the end of the day to a smallholding far away from the city. Chickens, a couple of dogs, flowers in the front garden, a sandy-haired man waiting in the doorway…

“Ida, tea!” Gwen called, placing a pot and two teacups on the garden table. They sat in silence a while, sipping their tea as Tiggy purred in the evening sunlight. The ringing of Ida’s phone broke the peace. Lana’s name appeared on the screen. Ida was in no mood to talk to Lana after yesterday; she needed some time to be by herself, to be selfish and put herself first. She cancelled the call. Immediately, it rang again. She turned the screen to her grandma, who read the name then raised her eyebrows. Ida gave her a look that clearly meant here goes, and answered.

“Lana.”

Lana spoke in one, quick breath. “Ida, Billy’s in trouble. These new friends of his, well, I don’t want to scare you, but they’ve planted a bomb in his car and he’s on his way to Cranstead-”

Ida’s scream was near silent. Horror was etched into every pore of her face. “A bomb?” she whispered.

“He’s freaking out. He might be there before me. Can you get there?”

A switch flipped in Ida, and the steely resolve that Billy loved so much about her leapt into action. “I’m at gran’s. I’ll be there.”

She sprinted away from her grandma and down the narrow path by her house. “Billy needs me,” she called back, and that was the only explanation Gwen needed. Barefoot, Ida sprinted towards the park, her cheeks burning, tears fighting to burst free and her breath roaring in her ears. Billy needs me, Billy needs me, Billy needs me, Billy needs me.

She saw him. That ridiculous old Vauxhall came speeding around the corner and disappeared through the park gates, closely followed by multiple police vehicles. Ida sped up, not caring about her feet which were bloody and battered from the pavement. Police tape was already up by the time Ida entered Cranstead Fields, but she carried on running until a policeman grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back.

“Step away from the scene, miss,” he said, trying to restrain her as she kicked her feet.

“He’s my friend! Please!” She fought against the man with all her might. “Lana asked me to come, please!” Ida screamed until she was hoarse.

“Ida?” She looked up to see a stout man with dark skin and shorn hair. He was completely kitted out in dark uniform, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow.

“Has?” Before he could reply, the roar of an engine filled their ears. Lana’s car skidded to a halt, and she exited almost before it had stopped. She made a beeline for Has. Ida, still restrained by the policeman, listened to them speak in hushed tones.

“I’m worried he’s gonna bolt,” Has said.

“Get everyone back, I’ll speak to him.” Lana ran towards Billy as Has approached Ida and the police.

“Billy, I’m here.”

“Lana,” Billy’s voice was desperate. Weak. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, from heat or fear, Lana couldn’t say.

“Alright? It’s gonna be fine.” Lana tried to sound as reassuring as she could. Her heart was hammering in her chest, fighting the urge to open the door and pull her little brother into her arms. “Stay really still for me, yeah? I’m gonna look around the car.”

“You’ve gotta do something. Lana!” His gaze followed her as she walked around the car. He didn’t want to be alone. Not now. He muttered under his breath, phrases between stay calm and I’m gonna die. He looked to the timer. 3.26.

“I’m gonna get out-”

“Stay still! Don’t touch anything, I’m gonna check the car ok?”

“Just hurry!” He sounded like a child and Lana tried to recall her training. Focus. “How bad is it?” Billy asked as she came back to the driver’s window.

“It’s fine.” Lana’s voice was focussed.

“I can tell when you’re lying, man! How bad is it!?”

“It’s fine,” she tried to sound convincing.

“Lana!”

“It’s fine!”

“Lana,” he was starting to cry. Hot tears fell from his wide, blue eyes.

*

Ida watched as Lana prowled around the car and the other officers talked in hurried whispers. A man, clad head to toe in grey combat uniform, a gun strapped to his back with only his eyes visible, was speaking into a comms device.

“EXPO is at the device. Cordon secure, sniper’s in position.” Ida gasped and ran forward once more, only to be caught by the same policeman.

“Miss, I will not hesitate to arrest you if you do not stay behind this cordon!” An ugly sob rent itself from her lips. She watched Lana hurry back towards Has, and she stilled to listen to them speak.

“The timer, it makes no sense.” Lana said.

“Why?”

“How would the bombers know where he’s gonna be when the device goes off? I don’t get it.”

“A decoy?” Lana nodded and returned to Billy. Ida could hear her screaming to him through the window.

“Billy listen to me. Listen to me! Billy look at me, yeah!? The timer means nothing. They put it there as a trick so that you’d open the door. Can you hear me? Don’t touch it. Stay still. It’s gonna be fine. Listen to me. I’m your sister, ok? You need to trust me! I’m gonna go and get some stuff. You’ve gotta trust me, it’s gonna be fine!”

Ida watched as she ran back to Has and they resumed their discussion. Every now and then, Ida glanced to Billy in the car. He was rocking back and forth, anguish painted across his face. “Lana!” she called out, but Lana ignored her.

“What’s happening?” said Has.

“Billy’s freaked out by the timer, but I’m sure it’s a trap. I need to get him out but the driver’s side might be rigged.”

“Passenger side?”

“That’s where the device is. I don’t wanna risk it, they could have done all the doors.”

As Lana and Has continue to speak, Ida turned to watch Billy once more. He was screaming for his sister, the words indistinguishable but the fear evident.

“Let’s extract him through the rear window,” Has said, laying a hand on Lana’s shoulder.

“LANA!” Ida screamed for her to hear. Both she and Has turned to look at her. “He needs you! He’s freaking out. He doesn’t understand what your saying. Let me go!” She shouted at the policeman. “He needs you there.”

“Ida, we haven’t got the time-”

“He needs someone! Send me! I can calm him down.”

Has interrupted. “That’s impossible, love, I’m sorry. We can’t have civilians at the scene.”

Ida ignored him. “He doesn’t trust you, Lana. Send me!”

Lana stared at her for a moment. Ida was right. Before she could act, the solider in grey spoke.

“Trojan Five Four, suspect is unlocking the door.”

“BILLY!” Lana screamed. Without thinking, Ida broke through the cordon. Billy needs me. She sprinted towards the car. Billy needs me. She watched as Billy struggled inside. Billy needs me. In her periphery, she saw a sniper’s gun raise in her direction. Billy needs me. Lana’s voice drifted towards her on the summer breeze, barely discernible to her now.

“DON’T SHOOT!”

Note: Thanks for all your well wishes! I’m off work and drugged up, but writing this is getting me through. Not too long until the next chapter <3

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