#it only solidified her 'rule' over the others

[partywithoutsmiling]

in the rock beast au, how does barb and the rest of the audience react to the beastification of branch?

In short answer, absolutelly horrified XD

The long answer, well, none of the trolls expected the string being capable of something like this.

Sure, they all had their cautionary tales; not exactly about 'zombification', but roughly that the Strings united are able to dominate and supress other genres, like Pop did back in the day

Honestly, bit of curiosity about that, as we can assume the strings, while in the Lyre of Harmony, were not overwhelmed by one genre or another- only until the Pop King (we can assume a direct blood descendant from the very first Pop Leader, creator of the Pop String) forcefully took hold of the Lyre did the Strings changed.

What we see in the Funk history lesson, however, is that the Pop leader played the Strings and sang- but aimlessly, the Pop 'miasma' released freely into the air around everyone, and not targeting any particular troll. A siren's song, if you will- meant to be heard and ensnare.

Rock trolls however, from the very start of the movie, are shown that they use their instruments as weapons- and powerful weapons at that. Apart from the Funk trolls, none of the other genres use their music like that- so naturally, Barb would have never used the strings any other way, than to focus them on singular target.

And for a minute or two, it looked like it worked- Branch was encased in stone shell, untill it cracked open, and he came out, zombified- but then he started to contort, not unsimilar to the way you'd expect a werewolf transformation to happen really XD

So that put the fear of the devil into the audience, the absolute violent way this change happened; the only difference is, the Rock trolls knew this was not part of the plan, especially as Barb started barking orders to subdue Branch and haul him away (with unconscious Poppy, as the Power Chord slammed branch into her cell and caused it to fall, knocking her out in the process).

The non-rock trolls, on the other hand, now feared Barb more than ever; they were not able to see her face as she had her back turned to them, but this convinced them that Barb's threat is on whole another level.

Many of them thought they would keep their wits by them, even as they lost their genre- now that is no longer a surety they posses.

So if anything, that fear of what they witnessed makes them rather meek and compliant to Barb's following orders- after all, none of them want to end up the way Branch did; witless, senseless and no better than an animal.

Bonus of Barb stunned at what is happening to Branch:

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 1:

cards on the table, mine played out like fools in a fable | s.r.

A/N: trying something new…..this one’s been on my mind for too long and the angst hurt too good. sorry in advance ! perhaps a part 2 who’s to say ..,,,..,. ?

cw: bau!fem!reader, spoilers for prison arc, implied talks of SA (referring to when lindsey doses spencer in mexico), maeve donovan, just angst bro this doesn’t end well

summary: you and jj accompany spencer to cat’s correctional facility to play her games, except there’s more than one loser

wc: 2.1k

part 2

——————————————————————————

Cat Adams’ taunts and demands have led Spencer, JJ, and you to visit her in her correctional facility to play whatever game she has for him. Emily had you and JJ go with him given his erratic state from just being released, in hopes that you both could regulate and monitor the whole meeting.

You and JJ watch Spencer walk in stoically, sitting down across from Cat as she smiles at him. He angrily demands for his mother’s location, but she gets upset and tells him that he doesn’t get to treat her like a criminal. She only agrees to tell him the location if he plays her game, and figures out the secret she knows about Spencer.

Spencer’s brain works overtime to figure out what he’s missing, what Cat could possibly be holding against him that would make him deny the truth of it. He runs through all the scenarios; Spencer being able to now understand how it feels to have a parent used as a pawn, Cat wanting him to admit his love for her. But she shakes her head and reveals that a clue was left in a scrapbook in Spencer’s apartment.

You remember you took a picture of it when you went with Spencer to scope it out, and pulled it out to show JJ.

“Is that an X and a Y?” She ponders, “What could that mean?”

“I think it’s…” You stop halfway, realizing what it means. Your face drops and you look back in the room to watch Spencer come to the same conclusion.

“We’re pregnant!” Cat sings.

You and JJ look at each other in shock, the blonde’s voice slowly drowning out as you sink further into the Cat shaped hole. You vaguely hear her mention going to the guard to find her medical records, but all you can think about is how she could be bearing Spencer’s child.

Spencer and you had been together for a little over two years now. While still in the relative early stages, a lot about your relationship had been figured out and solidified. It was the most secure you’d ever felt with anyone, and despite the road bumps with Mexico you felt that you both came through it as well as any couple would in that situation.

You loved Spencer, and Spencer loved you. Right now was just another one of those road bumps, just like Mexico. That’s what you needed to tell yourself.

JJ bursts through the door with the medical documents, “I got them.” breaking you out of your spiral. You both anxiously look at the paper to find a little (+) sign ticked next to the pregnant box.

Cat Adams really was pregnant. You think you could be sick, you feel JJ’s hand grip your arm in an attempt to tether you back down, but it’s a futile effort. Your brain has already taken the information and ran a billion different directions with it, each coming up with a more crazy conclusion.

You stare blankly into the interrogation room as Spencer vehemently denies the child being his, denying any such way that it could even be his. The disbelief is ruling his words as he shuts down any theory that gives it truth, until Cat reminds him of the heavy dose he was given in Mexico. It hit him then, if he could barely remember the third person in that room, he had no bearing on whatever else transpired.

Spencer tries not to let the anxiety and shock show on his face as he sits down to face Cat in the eyes, “How did you do it?”

“I gave Lindsey very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

“She pretend to be you?”

“Why, would that have worked?”

“No.” he says sternly.

She pauses, ego clearly bruised, “Yeah, I know. I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid "Hot or Not" list. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan, who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss.”

Spencer’s face falls. No, he thinks, no no no. He looks back at the one way window behind him, knowing very well he can’t see you but you’re watching everything unfold disastrously.

Your heart drops so fast it could have very well been seismic. To your horror, Cat continues.

“I thought about telling her to pretend to be your little BAU girlfriend,” she chuckles, “But then I realized, you only had one love of your life. and you won’t let anyone else measure up.” She leans in closer, “By the way, I know that you still think about Maeve when you’re, you know, with your little crime fighter over there. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She gives an over exaggerated wink to the window.

Spencer feels like he’s seeing white, anger coursing through his body as the reality of his situation comes to a head. He’s definitely not thinking when he pushes the table aside harshly, grabbing Cat by the collar and pushing her against the wall. He’s only able to stop when JJ is beside him suddenly attempting to pull him back, reminding him that she’s pregnant.

His fists are clenched and without a second thought he storms out of the room, his tunnel vision taking him right past you and JJ.

JJ doesn’t know what to do, she looks back into the room to see Cat smirking to herself, and god if she didn’t have morals she’d finish what Spencer started. She thinks it’s wise to go after Spencer and check on him, knowing that Cat’s timer is still ticking and the faster he gets back in there the sooner they can find his mother.

But then she looks at you and suddenly her feet are rooted next to yours.

She lays her hand on your shoulder and gently speaks, “Hey, I’m right here okay?”

You nod mindlessly, hoping you can keep the ocean of tears at bay with whatever resolve you can muster. She squeezes her hand at your acknowledgment and doesn’t move.

How is she supposed to even comfort you? How are you supposed to process this?

You knew how important Maeve Donovan was to Spencer. The whole thing had happened a year before you joined the team, only having heard the story through your teammates. It was tragic, there was no other way to put it, and your heart clenched for Spencer for having to go through that by himself. When you both first started dating, he disclosed the more intimate details to you, wanting nothing to be left unspoken about his past to affect his future with you.

What a cruel twist of fate.

“I—I think,” you stutter, “I have to go, JJ, I can’t be here right now.”

“But—“ She starts.

You cut her off, “No, JJ you have to go talk to Spencer and get him back in there. The longer his mom is with Lindsey…” you trail off.

She nods, understanding that you’re thinking about the priorities right now, “Okay, okay I’ll go find him. Where are you going to go?”

You could go home, the one you share with Spencer. Or you could go back to the office, the one you also share with Spencer.

Every realization adds another needle to your stack, and you’re about to crumble under the weight. “I—I don’t know.” You whimper.

JJ closes her eyes to think quickly and grips your shoulders, “Go back to the BAU okay? I’m going to call Emily and tell her to expect you back, you go straight there, do you understand me?” she emphasizes. JJ is smart enough to know that you cannot be alone right now, and that Spencer wouldn’t be able to scrounge up whatever focus he could into getting answers from Cat if he knew you had left by yourself to god knows where.

All you could do was nod, and hope and pray that your feet would carry you to the car and back to the bureau. JJ was nervous having you drive back, but she really didn’t have a choice. All she could do was notify Emily, as well as Penelope for tracking purposes, that you were headed back, and to not ask you too many questions.

After you left, JJ stood in the waiting room for a brief moment before going to find where Spencer went. She finds him sitting on the floor of an unused interrogation room with his head tucked into his knees.

She speaks quietly to not startle him, “Hey.”

He looks up at the voice, JJ noticing his eyes flit around and behind her as if looking for something, or someone. His eyes sulk back when he’s unable to find it.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, “Is she—“

“She’s going back to the BAU, Emily knows she’s on the way,” she cuts him off already anticipating his question, “Listen, whatever you’re feeling about what just happened right now has to be paused. You need to focus and finish this stupid game with Cat so we can find your mother and be done with her.” She grits out.

He sighs shakily, he doesn’t even want to think about what must be going through your head. As much as it pained him to experience her vitriol first hand, you were on the other side of that window listening to every word Cat spewed out. And somehow, knowing you watched all of that hurt worse than Mexico, worse than Tobias Hankel, and even worse than Maeve Donovan.

Cat was playing a deeply fucked psychological game with him, and she had now called you in as a pawn. You, his darling girl. The one who made him see the light of the sun after it was constantly being put out, the one who loved him through his mother’s illness and wrongful imprisonment, the one who is, with all and every bit of certainty, the love of his life.

If the velvet black box in his sock drawer was any testament to the power that love held, he hoped it would take mercy on him in this moment.

He stands up and paces the room for a moment before kicking the chair to the other side of the room. JJ startles, her eyes widening but attempting to remain neutral faced as Spencer sorts out his emotions.

“Spence, we need to focus,” she reminds him, “Time is running out.”

“I know,” he mumbles and paces the room hoping to have a stroke of insight, “I have an idea.”

———

You must be no better than a zombie in the final apocalypse when you walk into the bullpen, stumbling around with glassy eyes, no regard for what’s in your way. The apathetic coping mechanism you’ve deployed almost makes you seem as mindless as those monsters, if it weren’t for Penelope to show up and steady you.

“I gotcha, honey,” She makes eye contact with Emily, acknowledging that she’s got you, before turning back to you again, “Come here, let’s sit down.” Penelope sits you down in the nearest chair and drags another one for her to sit right next to you.

You don’t speak for an hour after sitting. Penelope doesn’t ask, only checking in every ten minutes to see if you want a snack or some water, to which you shake your head no every time. She’s too busy typing away on her laptop getting information that could help the team find Spencer’s mother, the last thing you want to be is a bump in the road for them.

Another hour passes before the team exits the conference room, alerting you and Penelope that they think they’ve found the cabin where Diana and Lindsey are. Emily gathers everything they need before approaching you in the bullpen.

“Do I have to be here when you guys come back?” You ask quietly.

Emily sighs, understanding the gravity of your circumstance, “No, you don’t. Will you let Garcia drop you home though? Give us all a peace of mind.” She chuckles humorlessly, unknowingly squeezing the other shoulder JJ didn’t.

You know the ‘all’ she’s referring to really just means one person. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you don’t think it’s meant to. She brings you in for a tight hug, “I’ll check on you after, okay?”

You nod and release from her embrace. Penelope gathers her things next to you and you both walk to the elevator.

“Honey,” It pained Garcia to see you like this, and she didn’t know how she could help, “What can I do?”

You sniffle and shrug, there isn’t much she can do. There isn’t even much that you could do. Not that anything you could do would be enough, it was never enough. Not for you, not for the team, and not for Spencer.

With a bitter chuckle you answer Penelope’s question,

“Bring back Maeve.”

[novaursa]

I have way to many idea so sorry for everything I’m going to send you 👉🏼👈🏼

Aemond x Niece (maybe a Nyra x daemon before her wedding!?)

He’s obsessed with her, she represents everything he want, she’s a perfect Targaryen white hair, purple eyes, huge dragon vermithor or cannibal?

But she’s engaged to Jace and he hate the fact that she is “given” to a bastard. So he tried by all things to make her his, he wish so hard to be found with her in a bad position that they obliged them to get married.

He make sure that Larys Steong see them, he even say to the maester to give her moon tee or medicinal herb for morning sickness ?! Otto find that about the maester and decided to marry them ( daemon and nyra are not ok they say It not real) and aemond took that personally and decided that they will have a child right now 🫣

The Dragon's Mark

- Summary: When Aemond found out about your betrothal to Jacaerys, he knew how all seven hells could not hold him back from taking what was rightfully his.

- Paring: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: Reader is the firstborn child of Rhaenyra. She had a reader with Daemon before she involved herself with Harwin Strong. Daemon legitimized the reader. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've changed the thing with a Maester to make it more believable. I hope you don't mind.

Aemond sat across from his mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, and his grandsire, Ser Otto Hightower, in the great hall of the Red Keep. The torchlight cast shadows over their faces, making their expressions harder to read, not that Aemond was paying much attention. Their voices drifted to him as if through a thick fog, muffled and distant. He stared at the tapestry on the wall opposite, its intricate designs of dragons entwined in battle barely registering in his mind. His thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the image of you.

You, to him, were the embodiment of Valyrian perfection, a true daughter of Old Valyria. Your silver hair fell in soft waves, catching the light like molten silver, and your violet eyes held the depth of the ancient Targaryen bloodline. You are more than a princess; you are power personified, a dragonrider of Vermithor, the mighty bronze beast who had bonded with you when you were but a girl. Aemond could still remember the first time he had seen you astride Vermithor, your small form commanding the great dragon with ease, your expression fierce and unyielding.

Now, you are a woman grown, and in Aemond's eyes, you are perfect. You are the one he deserves, a match that would not only strengthen the bloodline but would also solidify his place in their shared history. He could see it so clearly in his mind: you by his side, the two of you ruling as a power unmatched, with dragons and fire at your command. 

The thought of you set a slow burn within him, a mix of admiration and desire. He had always been captivated by your strength, your beauty, and the fire in your spirit that matched his own. You are everything he had ever wanted, everything he needed. A true Targaryen, unmarred by the weaknesses of others. Aemond clenched his jaw, pushing down the surge of emotions that threatened to spill over.

His attention snapped back to the present as his mother's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and clear. 

"...Rhaenyra has decided to marry her daughter to Jacaerys," Alicent said, her tone carefully neutral, but there was a hint of distaste in her eyes. 

Aemond's world tilted on its axis, the words crashing over him like a wave. His blood ran cold as the realization settled in. Rhaenyra intended to wed her daughter, you, the one Aemond desired above all others, to that bastard Jacaerys. His hands curled into fists on the table, the knuckles white as the force of his anger rose within him, threatening to consume him whole.

"A match to solidify her claim, no doubt," Otto added, his voice dry and calculated as always. "She seeks to ensure her line continues to hold power, binding her daughter to her eldest son."

Aemond could barely hear them now over the roaring in his ears. The thought of you, bound to Jacaerys, of the union of your bloodlines through a marriage that had nothing to do with honor or strength but everything to do with Rhaenyra's desperate attempt to secure her position—it was unbearable. 

His mind raced with images of Jacaerys, the boy who had always stood in his way, who had always been favored despite the question of his parentage, despite his weaknesses. And now, to think that he would have you, the woman Aemond had longed for, the woman who should have been his—!

"Aemond." Alicent's voice broke through his fury, pulling his gaze to her. She looked at him with concern, as if sensing the turmoil within him. "What are you thinking?"

Aemond blinked, his breath coming in sharp, controlled breaths as he forced himself to calm. He could not reveal the depth of his feelings here, not now. He met his mother's gaze, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.

"Nothing, mother," he said, his voice low and measured. "Only that Rhaenyra's choices will bring about her own downfall."

Alicent frowned slightly, but before she could press further, Otto interjected, his eyes narrowing as he studied his grandson. "This marriage will complicate things, Aemond. We must be cautious in how we respond. Rhaenyra seeks to bind the loyalty of her supporters through this match."

Aemond nodded stiffly, though his thoughts were still far from the politics of it all. He would not let this happen. He would not allow Jacaerys to take what should be his. 

"Perhaps," Aemond began slowly, "we should consider our own alliances more carefully. There are other ways to weaken Rhaenyra's position."

Otto raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the shift in Aemond's tone. "What do you suggest?"

Aemond met his grandsire's gaze, a plan already forming in his mind, a way to ensure that you would not be lost to him, that Jacaerys would not win. His lips curled into a small, cold smile.

"There are always ways to turn the tide," he said softly. "We need only find the right pressure points."

Alicent looked between them, her unease growing, but Aemond paid her no mind. His thoughts were solely on you, on the woman who had unknowingly claimed his heart. He would have you, no matter the cost. You will be his, and nothing, not even Rhaenyra’s schemes, would stand in his way.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly as you sat at your vanity, the brush gliding through your long, silver hair. Each stroke was methodical, a ritual you found soothing as the day's events faded into the quiet of the evening. You took a deep breath, savoring the calm, but beneath the surface, your thoughts were a swirling current of unspoken feelings, thoughts that often turned to him—Aemond.

The quiet attraction you felt for him had always been there, lurking in the periphery of your mind, but never voiced, never acted upon. There was something in the way he carried himself, the intensity of his gaze, that made your heart quicken whenever he was near. Yet, the distance between you had always remained, unbridgeable, or so you had thought.

You placed the brush down, your hair now smooth and shining in the firelight, ready to retire for the night. But just as you were about to stand, a knock echoed through the chamber, pulling you from your reverie. You frowned, surprised by the interruption at this hour. Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and there he was, Aemond, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Aemond," you whispered, your voice betraying a hint of the surprise you felt.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His presence filled the space, commanding yet silent, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. His eye, that piercing violet eye, locked onto yours, and you felt your breath catch. There was something different about him tonight, an intensity that set your heart racing.

"I... wasn't expecting you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "I needed to see you," he said quietly, his tone carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of leather and smoke clinging to his clothes.

You swallowed, your mind racing as he reached out, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in his eye, a hunger, a longing that mirrored the unspoken desires you had kept locked away for so long.

"I've thought about you," you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "But I never—"

He silenced you with a look, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before tilting your chin up, his gaze darkening. "No more words," he murmured, and then his lips were on yours, claiming them with a fervor that took your breath away.

The kiss was everything you had imagined and more, a rush of heat and need that left you dizzy. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his tunic. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, and you felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the fire, and the beating of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourself. But before you could speak, before you could mention the name that had been on your mind earlier, he shook his head.

"Don't," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to hear his name tonight."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken plea, and let the thought of Jacaerys fade away, replaced by the man before you, the man who had captured your heart without either of you realizing it.

Aemond's hands moved to the ties of your gown, his fingers deftly undoing the knots, and you felt your pulse quicken as the fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze as he took in the sight of you, bared before him. There was a reverence in his eyes, a deep appreciation that made your cheeks flush with heat.

He shed his own tunic, revealing the lean, strong lines of his body, the scars that marked him only adding to the allure. You reached out, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was all so surreal, so perfect, that you almost feared it was a dream.

Aemond's hands were gentle as he led you to the bed, laying you down with a care that made your heart ache. He moved over you, his gaze softening as he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that felt both new and familiar, as if you were made to fit together.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his eye searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over the smooth skin just beneath his patch. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want this, Aemond. I want you."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he entered you slowly, the sensation both sharp and sweet, a mingling of pleasure and pain as he took your maidenhead. You gasped, clutching at his shoulders, but the discomfort quickly faded, replaced by a sense of fullness, of completeness, as he buried himself deep within you.

Aemond stilled for a moment, his breathing ragged as he took in the sight of you beneath him, your hair spread out like a silver halo on the pillow, your eyes wide with trust and desire. The knowledge that you were his, that you had given yourself to him, filled him with a satisfaction that went beyond mere conquest. It was everything he had ever imagined, and more.

Tomorrow, he knew, the servants who served Larys Strong would change the sheets, and the evidence of your union would be seen by those who needed to know. But for now, all that mattered was the here and now, the way you felt beneath him, the way your body responded to his.

You urged him to move, your hips shifting beneath him, and he obliged, setting a slow, steady rhythm that had you both gasping for breath. The pleasure built between you, a slow burn that grew hotter with every thrust, every kiss, until it was all-consuming.

Aemond was lost in the sensation, the feel of you, the sound of your breathless moans, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of, and more. He could feel the tension building, the pressure mounting as you both neared the edge.

As you reached the pinnacle, your release washing over you in a wave of pleasure, he buried his face in your neck, his voice rough with emotion as he urged you to call his name, to let the world know who you belonged to. "Say my name," he breathed, his words a plea and a command all at once.

"Aemond," you gasped, your voice breaking as you clung to him, your body trembling with the force of your release. "Aemond, please..."

And then he was there, the last threads of his control snapping as he spilled himself inside you, his own release ripping through him with a force that left him trembling. Your name was on his lips, a whispered prayer, a declaration of everything he felt, everything he could never put into words.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the lingering echoes of pleasure that pulsed through your veins. Aemond held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both came down from the heights of your passion.

In that moment, there were no words, no need for them. Everything you had ever wanted, everything you had ever felt, was conveyed in the way you held each other, in the way your bodies fit together so perfectly, so naturally.

As you drifted into sleep, Aemond's arms wrapped around you, you knew that everything had changed, and there was no going back.

The morning arrived as Aemond moved with purposeful strides. His mind was sharp, focused, each step a calculated part of the plan he had set into motion. The events of the previous night played over in his mind, not with regret, but with satisfaction. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had intended.

He turned a corner and spotted Grand Maester Mellos in the distance, the elderly man’s stooped figure moving slowly down the hall. Aemond quickened his pace, his boots echoing against the stone floor, and within moments, he was at the Maester’s side.

“Grand Maester Mellos,” Aemond greeted, his voice measured and calm, though there was an undercurrent of urgency that could not be missed.

The Maester looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of the prince. “Prince Aemond,” he replied, bowing his head slightly in respect. “How may I assist you this morning?”

Aemond’s expression was inscrutable as he spoke, his voice low, as if to ensure their conversation remained private. “I require your expertise, Maester. There is a matter concerning Princess Y/N—my niece—that needs your immediate attention.”

Mellos frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, Your Grace. What seems to be the issue? Is Princess Y/N unwell?”

Aemond shook his head, his gaze intense as he met the Maester’s eyes. “No, she is not unwell. However, I wish for her to be examined… to ensure that she has not been harmed.”

Mellos’ confusion deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, trying to understand. “Harmed, Your Grace? I do not follow. What examination, exactly, do you require?”

Aemond hesitated for only a fraction of a second before he continued, his voice steady and deliberate. “Last night, she and I... shared an intimate moment. I want to ensure that she was not hurt during our union, that she was not harmed in any way.”

The Maester’s face went pale, the full implication of Aemond’s words sinking in. His eyes widened slightly, and he took an involuntary step back, his hand trembling as he clutched the folds of his robes.

“Your Grace…” Mellos began, his voice shaky as he tried to comprehend the gravity of what had been revealed to him. “You… you wish for me to confirm that Princess Y/N was… that she…?”

Aemond’s gaze remained fixed on the Maester, his expression unwavering. “Yes,” he said simply, allowing the full weight of his words to settle between them. “I want you to ensure that she was not harmed. And if any trace of injury is found, I want you to inform me immediately.”

Mellos looked as though he might faint, the color draining from his face entirely. His mind raced, trying to grasp the enormity of what Aemond was asking, and the consequences that would follow. The bloodied sheets, the confirmation from the Grand Maester—these were not just symbols of a consummated union; they were a declaration of intent, a claim that could not be ignored by either Otto Hightower or Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“I… I understand, Your Grace,” Mellos stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But, Prince Aemond, surely you realize that such news… it will reach the ears of the Queen, and Prince Daemon…”

Aemond’s lips curled into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it. “That is precisely what I intend, Maester. The sheets will speak for themselves, and your examination will confirm what is already known. My niece is now mine, and any plans to wed her to Jacaerys must be reconsidered.”

Mellos swallowed hard, the implications of Aemond’s words weighing heavily on him. The Prince’s plan was clear now, as was the role he had unwittingly been drawn into. The Maester nodded slowly, realizing that there was no turning back from what had been set in motion.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Mellos finally said, his voice hoarse. “I shall see to it immediately.”

Aemond inclined his head, satisfied that his instructions would be carried out. He could see the fear in the Maester’s eyes, the way his hands shook ever so slightly as he turned to leave. But that fear was necessary, a tool to ensure that the plan would proceed without a hitch.

“Thank you, Grand Maester,” Aemond said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I trust that you will handle this matter with the utmost discretion.”

Mellos nodded quickly, his face still ashen as he hurried away, his steps faltering as though the weight of what he now carried was too much to bear.

Aemond watched him go, a sense of triumph settling over him. The seeds had been sown, and soon enough, they would bear the fruit he desired. His grandsire would be forced to recognize the union, and Rhaenyra would have no choice but to break the engagement to Jacaerys. There would be no way to deny him now.

As he turned and walked back down the corridor, a sense of satisfaction filled him. Everything was falling into place, just as he had envisioned. And as for the flushed and worried Grand Maester, he was merely the first to feel the ripple effects of the plan Aemond had so carefully crafted. Soon, everyone would understand that you belonged to him, and no one—not Jacaerys, not Rhaenyra, not even Daemon—could take you away from him now.

Aemond entered the chamber, summoned by his grandsire. The usual sense of foreboding that accompanied meetings in the Tower of the Hand was magnified tenfold by the figures waiting inside. Otto Hightower stood near the center of the room, his expression grave, while beside him stood Rhaenyra, her face a mask of barely concealed fury. But it was Daemon, pacing like a caged beast, whose presence dominated the space, his anger felt in the air.

Aemond, however, was unperturbed. He walked with measured steps, his posture erect, his face a picture of calm satisfaction. His eye met Daemon’s, and he could see the rage simmering there, a wildfire barely restrained. Aemond’s lips curled into a slight smile, knowing full well that it would only infuriate Daemon further.

“You summoned me, grandsire?” Aemond’s voice was even, respectful, but with an edge of smugness that did not go unnoticed.

Otto cleared his throat, his gaze flicking between the furious Targaryens and his grandson. “Aemond, it has come to my attention—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It has come to my attention, through certain… whispers, that Grand Maester Orwyle was called upon this morning to examine Princess Y/N. An examination that has confirmed… certain truths.”

Rhaenyra’s fists clenched at her sides, her violet eyes blazing with a fury that matched the fire of the dragons themselves. “How dare you,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Before Aemond could respond, Daemon stepped forward, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword, Dark Sister. His face was a mask of barely restrained violence, and for a moment, it seemed he might strike Aemond down where he stood.

“Daemon,” Otto warned, his voice firm, though there was a thread of unease beneath it. “Violence will solve nothing here.”

“Violence is all I see fit to deal with this insolent whelp!” Daemon barked, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “He dares to defile my daughter, and you expect me to stand idly by?”

Aemond, unflinching, met Daemon’s gaze head-on, his own expression hardening. “I have done what was necessary, uncle,” he said coolly. “She is mine now, and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

Rhaenyra’s voice broke through the tension, sharp and cold. “Her betrothal to Jacaerys has been agreed upon for years. You cannot simply cast that aside as if it means nothing.”

Otto interjected, his voice measured, though the urgency was clear. “In light of these recent events, the betrothal to Prince Jacaerys must be reconsidered. It is in the best interest of both houses that Princess Y/N and Prince Aemond are wed, to avoid any… further complications.”

Daemon’s eyes flashed with a deadly light as he turned on Otto. “You would sell my daughter to this boy after what he has done? You forget yourself, Hightower. She will not be tangled into your schemes!”

Aemond stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “This is not a matter of scheming, uncle. It is done. She is mine now, and there is nothing that can undo it. You cannot deny what has been consummated.”

Daemon’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. Aemond’s words, as blunt and provocative as they were, held the weight of truth, and that was what infuriated Daemon most of all.

“The marriage must happen,” Otto pressed, sensing the shift in the room. “And it should happen soon, before word spreads and this matter becomes a scandal that neither house can afford.”

Aemond did not miss the opportunity to twist the knife deeper. “Indeed,” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with a satisfaction that only inflamed Daemon’s ire further. “The ceremony should be conducted in the traditions of old Valyria, where fire and blood bind us as one. And it should be done with haste.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the room before delivering the final blow. “For I hope that soon, another dragon will be born of our union.”

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Rhaenyra’s face turned ashen, her fury giving way to something colder, more calculating. Daemon, however, looked ready to strike again, his entire body tensed with the desire to lash out, to wipe that smug look off Aemond’s face.

But Aemond stood tall, his gaze steady, unflinching in the face of Daemon’s rage. He knew he had won. The plan had worked flawlessly. The whispers from Larys Strong, the bloodied sheets, the Maester’s examination—all had been carefully orchestrated to force this very outcome.

A tense silence stretched between them, thick and oppressive, until finally, it was Rhaenyra who spoke, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. “If this is to be done,” she said, “it will be done according to our customs, and with the respect due to our house. But know this, Aemond—should you ever bring harm to my daughter, not even your dragon will save you from my wrath.”

Aemond inclined his head slightly, accepting her warning with the same unyielding calm he had maintained throughout. “As you wish, sister. I will see to it that Y/N is treated with the honor she deserves.”

Daemon said nothing, but the look he leveled at Aemond spoke volumes. It was a promise, a vow that if Aemond ever crossed a line, there would be a reckoning, and it would be brutal.

But for now, Aemond had what he wanted. He had claimed you, and soon, the two of you will be bound in marriage. The thought of it sent a thrill of triumph through him, and though he kept his expression carefully neutral, inside, he reveled in his victory.

Otto, sensing that the matter was settled, nodded gravely. “Then it is decided. The preparations will begin at once.”

Without another word, Aemond turned and left the chamber, leaving behind a flushed, furious Daemon and a conflicted Rhaenyra. He knew that the days ahead would be tense, that there would be fallout from his actions, but none of it mattered now. You were his, and soon the world would see it, would understand that he was not to be trifled with.

And as he walked away, his thoughts were already on the future, on the life he would build with you, a future forged in fire and blood, just as the old ways dictated.

[bluebasie]

Giyuu Tomioka's kindness deserves some more recognition!!

Am I the only one who hates when people interpret Giyuu Tomioka from KNY as some kind of unfeeling and mean person with the personality of a rock when so many scenes with him clearly show how much of a thoughtful, kind, and empathetic character he is??

His introduction scene is already an example of this when he (a person who has been slaying demons for 8 years and has a deep hatred for them) decides to spare a demon just because he saw Tanjiro and Nezuko’s bond and decided to give them a chance. I’m sure most everyone in the KNY fandom recognizes this, but I don’t think some people REALLY understand the implications of this action. The moment he decides to spare Nezuko he essentially becomes a traitor to the demon slayer corps which, by the rules or the corps, qualifies him for execution. Tomioka quite literally gave up his life and pride to spare a pair of siblings he didn't know just to give them a fair chance in a world that is clearly unfair. There's also the fact that after knocking Nezuko out in the first episode, even though he didn't have to, he put Nezuko’s robe back on to keep her warm, wiped the blood off of her face, and gave her a muzzle. Keep in mind though that demons can't get sick from the cold or anything and the cut would have healed itself. Tomioka put the robe on and wiped the blood purely for her comfort. 

Going back to the fact that Tomioka put his whole life on the line for these siblings, It’s not like he just abandoned them when they got caught. He fully stood with them when the Kamado siblings were brought before the hashira. Again this moment was actually HUGE even though his status as a ‘traitor’ lasted only two episodes. In the moment of the trial he essentially knew there was a good chance he would be executed but also, he knew that his pride/reputation was gone from his peers. (Pride was very important in Japan during this time period) One could argue that Tomioka already wasn't regarded well among the hashira but at least he was at least a little respected, but, as a traitor, you lose ALL respect. One could also argue that Tomioka didn't really care about his life and honestly, I could agree to that statement but there is one thing that overrules both of these points. His loyalty towards Ubuyashiki. It's well known that the Master is well regarded among the hashira and even the master being disappointed in one of them would be terrible for them. Imagine how bad it must be for one of the Hashira if Ubuyashiki had a full on disdain towards one of them. Tomioka was fully ready to take the chance of being deemed a traitor by Ubuyashiki by coming to the Hashira meeting to vouch for Tanjiro instead of running away or something. 

Then there is how Tomioka acted as a child. There isn't much shown about how he was before spiraling into a more isolated lifestyle after sabito’s death but from what we can see, His parents died when he was really young and he grew up with his older sister, Tsukato. His sister hid him from a demon when they were attacked to spare him and overcome by guilt, he blamed himself for her death and believed he should have died. This is one of the first examples of his self-deprecating thoughts after losing a person close to him and we can see them again when Sabito dies and also when Tanjirou ‘dies’. This shows how hard losses hit him to the point of causing himself to devoid himself of emotion because of the sheer amount of sadness his relationship's deaths brought him. The fact that he still wears Sabito and Tsukato’s haoris together as a memento for 8 years just solidifies it for me

There's also a few scenes post war that i’d like to mention such as the scene where Tomioka openly cries over Tanjiros death and exclaims that he’s failed him before apologizing to Nezuko. This scene also shows his tendency to put burdens unto himself in order to let others be happy. He also rejects help from the kakushi to sit beside Tanjiro and only after he confirms Tanjiro is alright does he allow himself to relax. Then there is the mention from the fan book that while Giyuu was in a coma after the war Nezuko fixed Tomioka’s haori that was previously shred to pieces during the war because she knew his haori meant a lot to him. Once he woke up and found out that she had fixed his haori and visited him every night, he was so moved that he sent a large multitude of gifts to her. It is also shown that after the war he allows himself to be happier and smile more. He is VERY clearly not emotionless.

The last thing I want to mention is his relationships over the manga with his fellow hashira. His friendship with shinobu may seem one-sided, Tomioka definitely cares for her wellbeing which can be seen when he asks Tanjiro about her during the Soba scene and in the fanbook where the hashira opinions of each other shows that he notices her fake smile. Tomioka knew shinobu’s sister Kanae so I’m sure he relates to shinobu about their common grief towards their deceased older sisters. Then There is the Uzui family which befriended Tomioka after the war and after Uzui’s first child was born, Giyuu was allowed to hold them. This could mean that after the war Tomioka opened up more, so the Uzui’s were able to notice Tomioka’s thoughtfulness. Then of course there are the Shinazugawa scenes. The infamous ohagi scene, where Giyuu gets so happy that he knows Sanemi’s favorite food so then he can like him rather than hate him that he flashes one of the three smiles he ever shows in the manga. There’s also the small speech he gives Kiriya at the final pillar meeting where he talks about how his father would be proud of him and how grateful they are to the Ubuyashiki family which ended up bringing Kiriya to tears before sharing another smile with Sanemi.

It is very clear that Giyuu Tomioka cares heavily for Justice and for those he is close to the point where his main character story is about his guilt to those he failed and about his feelings and connections with others so please please please stop portraying him as insensitive, mean, and emotionless!!!

Tanjiro, Nezuko, and Giyuu are Siblings fr

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :)

Had to add this pic lol

[yourwinchesterbros]

THE TWO OF US

Paring – Joel Miller x Fem reader / 10.3K Words

Summary – You find Joel taking care of you yet again, but not in the way you want. Tonight, you decide to address it.

A/N - I couldn’t stop thinking about this, so I decided to write it. Inspired by Episode 3 of the last of us, takes place in the clearing that Joel and Ellie settle in for the night but this time, it’s Joel and you.

Warnings – Minors, do not interact. This fic is 18+ only

The filthiest thing I’ve written so far, and I put all the blame on Joel Miller. He makes me absolutely feral!

Smut with little plot. Poor girl gets edged for way too long, teasing, masturbation for both, daddy kink, pet names - pretty girl, brat, sweetheart etc. (Joel calls reader whore once) Dirty talk, thigh riding, reader humps her sleeping bag, cursing, soft/dom Joel. Mentions of murder, blood, and wounds and weapons – knives, gun. (Reader has a small cut). Joel is in his fifties; readers age is not specified but absolutely over the age of 20. Please Let me know if I’ve missed anything! Enjoy!

“We’re stopping here f’ the night.”

Joel accelerates the Chevy S-10 ranger off the familiar pavement and onto the rough prairie towards the forest line. The uneven earth below you causes the truck to wobble, you grip the handle mounted above you to stay steady.

The sun is on its way to set and reveal the sky she has in mind for this evening. You hope it’s another blue and pink one, when the clouds blend it becomes a milky mauve and it’s Joel's favourite kind of sunset. Which naturally, and secretly, is the very reason why it’s become your favourite too.

You roll down the passenger window with the manual hand crank, wincing at the sore residing across your collarbone. A souvenir from earlier endeavors. Well, early as in this very morning.

When you and Joel came across what seemed like a stationed FEDRA stop, relief washed over when it was revealed to be just a band of yahoos. You quickly learned they were as nervous as you. Ironically enough, that’s an advantage, as your travelling partner was unlike the lot of you all. Joel possesses a different mindset than others. A different perspective that was always so solidified. Certain.

As the air in the environment shifted, it became hostile. This was a group with no good intentions. Not for the two of you anyhow. Yet you saw the fear grow in their eyes when Joel charged, surging forward, letting survival take over. The thing is, Joel also has a different sense of fear. Such as fear of getting off track while trying to find his brother, among a fear of running out of coffee and most impending, the fear of getting old. That one makes you laugh.

 Therefore, when the two of you approached the group of three men and a lady, fear didn’t have a seat at Joel's table. So, your morning kerfuffle was exactly that – a mere kerfuffle that ended with 3 dead and one spared with a worn-out map. She won’t make it far though. Not on her own.

You initially tried to kill her yourself. An opportunity that was seconds away when you were straddling her chest, your knife hovered above her sternum, promising a fatal strike but you were viciously flung off by Joel with a quick “We don’t kill women” as he returned to bludgeon some poor guy’s face. The woman however had survival rules of her own. Taught by the men she traveled with; her version of death didn’t discriminate.

She was quick to retrieve her blade you’d tossed moments ago. Before you knew it, she was on top of you faster than you could gather yourself.  She now had the high ground, the advantage and with no one to stop her, she swung the sharp steel across your skin with purpose. She aimed for your neck, but thankfully you were faster, your reactions saved you and you were rewarded a swift cut to the collarbone instead. You had reached for her jaw, throwing her off balance as you shoved her face upwards. Joel had then come to your rescue, pulling her to the side by her neck before putting the fear of God into her.

It could’ve been worse for you, but a part of you was relieved as you didn’t have to encounter the grief that weighs on one’s soul when they take a life. You’ve never killed before, but that doesn’t mean you won't. You’ve accepted the fact that it’s only a matter of time, but it’s an event you’re not eager to attend.

As much as you reamed out Joel for letting her go, for letting you nearly die at her hands, you really only chastised to keep hearing his apologies in that low southern drawl. It was a record you could keep on replay for all eternity. Joel saying sorry? What a sound.

With a tender touch, you press against the damp blue material covering your wound. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but a bit had still seeped through. Joel had given you some gauze which clung to the wound tightly as the blood hardened, like a scab. You figure it’ll have to be changed soon.

You gaze out the window, appreciating the cool breeze whistling across your features. You can smell the soil underneath the green grass as the truck tires roll over them.

To your surprise Joel continues past the trees, into the forest itself. A sliver of anxiety burst in your chest.

“We’re not camping by the tree line?” You question as your eyes frantically scour each gap between the lush evergreen trees.

“Not safe enough” he barely utters to you as he himself scans the earthy environment. “Less chance for surprises deep in here”.

“Mmmkay …” you hum, feeling a wave of sadness as you realize watching golden hour wouldn’t be in the cards tonight. Nature in this area is overgrown, and rich. The trees are abundant, dense, and evade the sky above you.

With a light squeal, the truck comes to a halt, and when the engine dies you know this is home for the night.

You pull out of the passenger seat and groan as you stretch your body, raising your hands above your head.

“Today was a long one hey? How many hours were we on the road?” You question as you glance around your new surroundings.

“You should know, you’re the one who told me you were gunna start observin’ more” He raises a brow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he unlocked the tailgate. “Guess it’s hard t’ count when you’re nappin’ half the ride.”

“Okay let’s not get carried away there, I don’t plan on being on your level of analysis, Miller.” You smirk at him as you help him unload the sleeping bags and the worn-out Coleman’s barbeque.

With a thud of the bags against the ground he turns to you.

“What’d I say ‘bout usin’ my last name?” His brows are drawn tightly now. His brown eyes dark like char, focus on yours. He places one of his hands, palm side down against the body of the truck, the other gripping his hip.

You raise your own hands in surrender as he scoffs with a shake of his head but continues unpacking. It’s something you tend to poke and prod him with from time to time. But only from time to time.  Well, in the short time that you’ve known him anyway.

For some reason, it really does tick Joel off when you say his surname but that’s precisely why you enjoy using it when he least expects it. Because if he knows it’s coming, he won’t let it slide and you’re left talking to yourself for the remainder of the day, sometimes two. So, you use it when you want to be momentarily scolded, but you say it as if it’s an accident. A habit not quite beaten out of the inner brat in you.

You hear him mumbling to himself again as he splays the sleeping bags out, readying the grill for whatever canned goods are left. Sounds something like “You’re gunna learn one f’ these days” but you pay no further attention as you skip to the driver’s side of the truck, leaning into the center console to grab the cheap lantern. You won’t need it yet, but darkness tends to creep in much faster when you’re in the woods. You want it close by as you’ve not been granted access to firearms. No matter how many times you’ve pleaded Joel, it wasn’t up for discussion. Therefore, you’re left with your trusty blade and ‘works half-of-the-time’ lantern.

Joel heats up two cans, one possessing creamed corn and the other, ravioli. You prefer corn, but you don’t miss the smile that briefly dances in Joel’s eyes when he gets to take the ravioli for himself. Another mental note you’ve made about Joel. He likes his Chef Boyardee.

As the night crawls on, Joel summons you over with a sharp whistle to the tailgate where he’s standing.

“Hey, c’mere,” he pats the hard plastic of the trunk.

“Joel, I just got comfy. I’m finally warm in my little cocoon,” you pause as you wait for his mercy. None was served as he snaps his middle finger against his thumb to you again, motioning the truck with his forefinger as he continues unzipping a little red bag with the other.

“Get over here,” he demands but not in a mean way, his voice was softer than before.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you whisper under your breath as you make your way over to him, shuffling the sleeping bag off your feet.

“Heard that,” he grunts.

“Good,” you chirp back as you stand next to him.

“Up” he says, once again motioning his forefinger upwards to the tailgate.

With a roll of your eyes, you turn your back to the truck and hoist your bottom from beneath you up onto the bench. You sit there quietly, swaying your legs while watching Joel prod through the medical bandages and wipes with his large fingers in that small, little bag. A ping of jealousy rises in your chest as you wished you could have his fingers explore your –

“Quit thinkin ’so loud,” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he tears open a small white package between his teeth. An action that makes you bite your bottom lip involuntarily.

It’s no secret you struggle around Joel. Maybe it’s the long-term effects of the apocalypse, causing so many to lose the common sense of touch with one another. Creating incredibly touch-starved individuals, especially you.

Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been properly touched by a man, and you think Joel would know how, you think of it far too often. Or maybe it’s simply because a man like Joel emits sexuality with his entire being. It’s like he releases a pheromone that makes those around him go feral for his manhood. At least that’s how you feel anyways.

Your eyes tend to linger longer than you’d like when you watch Joel grip his rifle, his strong hand cupping the neck of the gun. The way his fingers trace lightly on the trigger, teasing the bullet inside to erupt. The way he narrows his sight into the scope, his breath held before exhaling in the most sensual way. The way his broad shoulders rise and fall before he makes his kill. Hell, you could watch this man paint and still be in a pool of your own arousal.

Maybe it’s just because Joel is the most masculine man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, becoming partners with, in the coworker sense of course. He possesses the knowledge, the experience, the determination, the patience, and strength… of survival. But you’ve always wondered if those same factors come into play when he likes to…play. 

Joel has always noticed when you’re thinking, the way you zone out on his lips or his large fingers. Your eyelids become hooded as he watches the filthy gears turn inside your mind. It’s something you do without even realizing and he fucking loves it. It makes his heartbeat fonder; his ego grow bigger and without fail, each time, it makes his cock twitch in his jeans. Which is the final action that brings him back to reality to snap your dirty little naïve mind out of it.

He understands the effect he has on women, how they would stare at him back at the QZ. Crawl to him with need, begging to be put out of their misery. It’s a quality he doesn’t mind as it makes it easy to find release but when it comes to you, he scolds himself for ever letting his mind drift into those delicious, curious, devilish thoughts. Your innocence is a hidden treasure in this corrupt world, and Joel simply won’t corrupt that too.

He recognizes the way you stray close to him as if he's shelter. The way you look at him with wide eyes when he senses danger, how you shuffle so tight into him, because you know he’ll protect you. And he will. He quietly prides himself in being your gatekeeper. How you give him complete control over your life, a feeling he’s only ever had once before.

He pictures you as a small ornament made of thin glass. So precious, yet so fragile and it sits so nicely in his roughed up, deadly, deleterious hands. He could shatter it so easily. Let the pieces fall at his feet and walk away before the fear of failure seeps in, had he done that in the start, his feelings would be protected.

But the problem is, he’s gotten attached to his little ornament. Therefore, he’ll watch every move he makes, to be sure not to flinch and accidently crack it. He dreads the weight that comes with the stiffness of protecting you, how it makes his body and mind ache, but he knew. He knew the moment he took you out of the QZ and into the unknown, that he would ache till the day he takes his last breath. He made his choice that very night, that he's responsible for you. He just didn’t realize how much he would care. How much you’ve impacted him. How much of you has molded into him and the things he recognizes in you that you’ve gained from him. His little ornament, he vows to keep safe because the eternal hell that comes with defeat, he simply won’t go through again. 

He stares down at you, looking at your eyes still trained on his mouth that has just ripped open the white plastic. He wondered if it reminded you of the memories that creeped into his. If you've ever seen one before. A type of rubber that used to sit in his wallet pre apocalypse when he travelled to seedy bars.

“Take your shirt off” You snap your eyes from his lips to meet his brown ones. They’re still dark from the “Miller” comment you made earlier but this time there’s a twinkle you can’t quite read.

“You, y- you want me to take it off?” You speak so softly but in such a needy way Joel has to forcefully repress the groan that’s stuck in his throat. Instead, he smirks at you.

“Need t’ see the cut”. You blush at his words, feeling silly for assuming he’d want anything otherwise. God you were so lost in your train of thoughts, you’d briefly forgotten what you were sitting here for.

Joel catches sight of your blush by the low light of the lantern sitting next to the med bag. He knows he can’t give into you, or let himself ponder on you for too long, but that doesn't mean he can’t have a little fun teasing you.

You grab the hem of your sweater, peeling it up and over your head, leaving you in your white tank top. One that had been stained from dirt and blood, but you’ve washed it in rivers in between travels. The stains never come out, no matter how hard you try.

You hear his breath hitch as you pluck the sweater off, bundling it to your side and it only fuels the ache in between your legs that much more.

You slip in and out of your trance, feeling so vulnerable yet powerful in the hands of Joel. Waiting for his next move. You watch his eyes examine your cut, as he chews on the inside on his cheek.

“S’not too bad, but could get infected, especially when we’re out here,” he explains, opening the wet cloth that was inside the package and before he brings it to your wound, he raises a finger lightly over your shoulder.

“Just... gunna move this out f’ the way” his voice velvet as he softly shifts your tank strap away from your wound to the edge of your shoulder, enough for it to fall down your arm on its own. The motion of it all raising a shiver up your tailbone. You then see his eyes grow heavy, his tongue dipping out to wet his bottom lip.

The touch of his calloused fingers against your skin, the way the strap falls from his grasp, how his eyes briefly drop to your chest before seeing the red blotches form across his neck, all these things have your buds growing hard against the fabric of your shirt.

You groan when he removes the old gauze and finally applies the alcohol-soaked cloth against your cut. The sting somehow adding to your arousal. You can’t help but let a small pornographic moan slip from your lips resulting in a hiss from Joel.

“Jesus” He mutters, more to himself than you. His other hand palms his crotch to briefly adjust the growing hard on beneath the zipper. He thought he was subtle in the dark, but you still saw, and it drove you wild.

His touch shocks you as his hand gently grips your neck, holding you still as he dabs your sore some more. You see the wrinkles forming on his forehead as he bends down, leaning in close to inspect the cut further. You could roll your eyes in pure ecstasy just from the way he has you in his grasp. The way his head is ducked down beneath yours, so closely to your chest, you can nearly feel his hot breath kissing your nipples.

You feel your dignity slipping away. You want nothing more than to submit to him, let him take what he wants. You’ve seen the signs, surely, he’s thought about it too.

His big thumb lightly caresses your sensitive skin as he focuses on wiping up the rest of the smeared mess that stained your collar bone. In between his shuffling, you spread your legs open some more, hoping he’ll come closer.

You peer down, watching his eyes flicker to yours, a warning resides within them. He knows what you’re doing, and he isn’t going to take bait. He’s in trouble enough as it is. You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress the guttural want inside you. But your mouth falls agape when his glare falls back to your neck, tracing slowly back to your wound before looking down lower to your breasts poking through your thin shirt. He inhales deeply through his nose, his eyes closing as if he’s praying for restraint. You hope none delivers.

In one motion, he regathers himself in such a Joel manner, you know he’s done playing. He tosses the crimson-stained wet fabric back into the red bag, zipping it up in such aggression you thought it might just break.

“Just keep it covered, should heal fine,” He orders, not once looking your way.

“Joel” you mewl to him, your hands having a mind of their own as they reach for his jacket.

“No” he says bluntly, his eyes on the med kit. He’s trying to be cold, but you can hear the quiver that laces his voice.

He tosses the bag further into the trunk, he jaws clenching so hard you think his teeth might shatter.

“Joel” you cry again softly, biting your lip. Your arousal is becoming unbearable, downright painful. At this point, you can care less about how pathetic you sound. You just need relief, but this time from him.

“I said no,” He growls, “It’s bedtime.”

Joel then, in one movement reaches one arm under yours, supporting your back and the other hand gripping your waist.

You clutch the collar of his jacket, panting feverishly, your heart racing from his touch. His head had leaned down close enough, you thought he might just kiss you.

But then you realize what's really happening as he picks you up off the tailgate and plants you on your feet to the ground. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers before letting you go.

“I’ve got first watch, get into your sleepin’ bag,” He commands as he picks up his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m not tired” you whine, desperation seeping out of your pores.

“M’ don’t care, we have a long day tomorrow n’ you need rest, so get rested.” His voice is strained as his teeth grit at the end of his sentence. He putters around, putting the lantern next to your bag, closing the lid to the barbeque, not once looking in your direction.

And you know why. He’s trying to hide his desire from you, the evidence sticking out in his jeans. Trying to distract himself from the utter temptation that hangs in the air. Trying to be the good guy that is strictly business and most days his virtuous behavior warms you, but tonight it’s pissing you right off.

“I can’t sleep like this Joel, I, I- I’m uncomfortable” you whimper, your arms at your side as you admit defeat.

“That’s enough” he spits your name “M’ not saying it again.”

Your perk up when he turns, striding towards you but it’s quickly followed by a groan when he passes you to go to the truck. He grabs your sweater, before slamming up the tailgate with force. The sexual frustration radiant in his demeanor.

You watch him come closer; his knuckles white from gripping the fabric of your top. Your breath catches when you meet his eyes, his glare so intense you think you might become a meal, you hope you will.

He raises his fist to your chest; you look down at the blue material.

“Put this on, it’ll protect your wound. I’m checking the perimeters then I’ll be back” he says lowly, peering down at you without tilting his head. When he does this, it makes you feel incredibly small, more than you normally feel around him. Which you like. You frown at his back as he strides away, towards the trees.

“Joel, please” you whine again. “I – I need – “ Tears begin pricking at your eyes, you’ve never felt this needy in your life, and all you want is Joel. He’s the only one that can help.

He stands still, before turning his head to the side, his knee popping out in his stance. He stays that way for a moment before you hear him sigh loudly. He turns to face you, hand gripping his jaw as his eyes scans your figure, weeping in front of him.

“Sweetheart, I know what you need,” His nickname shocks and spurs you on all at the same time.

“Do what you need to do, I’m goin’ to do rounds, I’ll be back when you’re done okay?” His tone shifts from frustrated to understanding, his face somber but riddled with want. You glance down at his jeans, his bulge sticking out so loudly. You feel yourself start salivating.

“Can’t you do it Joel?” You mewl “Help me feel better?”

This time he groans, one so low and gravelly you think you might cum right there.

“Baby girl I can’t” his palm rests on his forehead before he runs his thick fingers through his salt and pepper locks.

“You know I can’t” His voice is getting rougher in between his pants. “I need you to crawl into bed and touch yourself, okay? I know you can do it” He points his index at your sleeping bag and with a sigh he walks off before you can say anything else.

And just like that he disappears into the darkness. You know he won’t stray far, but enough to grant you privacy. You groan to yourself, hoping it wasn’t going to end like this, but it is progress. You had touched yourself before, but always in secret. In worry Joel might get upset or confused, or worse - mad as to why you would need to relieve yourself around him. You always feared he’d find you weak or pathetic if he caught you, so you always waited until he was on patrol in the dark, or settled in his own room in whatever housing the two of you would find.

The fact that Joel now knows, and understands, and is urging you to, is incredibly sexy.

You grab the slippery material and bring it over, near to his that lay empty. You slid yourself in and with shaky hands, undo the buttons and zipper to your confining jeans before snaking your hand down to your soaked cotton panties. You sigh at the touch, savoring in the instant relief that comes with it.

With slow, messy circles, you rub the outside of your panties against your core as you think about Joel's strong hands lifting you off the tailgate. The way his chest was pressed against your breasts, the way his hands lingered on you. Your breathing quickens as you start rubbing circles harder and quicker, cupping your swollen clit. More tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes when you begin to think this isn’t going to work. Not when you know he’s around. Not when he’s the very reason you’re dripping down your thighs in the first place. Not when you need him.

In an act of desperation, you kick off your sneakers, toss them on the grass with two thuds and strip your jeans completely off. Your cocoon becomes so humid with the heat from your arousal that you end up crawling out of it before bunching it up enough to straddle the material, grinding against it. You whine as the friction brings more relief than your fingers as you start humping your sleep bag. The cool breeze against your dewy skin feels like a kiss from mother nature herself. You feel yourself grow closer to your climax as you begin to furiously hump more, your knees against the earth, your thighs spread wide. You know how ridiculous you must look, but you couldn’t give a shit. You need relief in order to have some clarity again.

Then you hear it. The unmistakable clink of his belt buckle coming undone. The teeth of his zipper groaning apart before he lowers his jeans. You listen as you slow your pace, riding the edge of your summit, teasing yourself. You hear him spit into the palm of his hand before you imagine him gripping his length. When he finally groans, you know he’s fisting himself.

You smirk and decide to have fun with this. As you stop your pace all together, you peel off your blue sweater once again, leaving you in the same white revealing tank top. You know he’s somewhere in the darkness behind you, but you aren’t sure if he knows you know, yet.

You hike your panties up higher, the band hugging your hips and exposing more of your plush cheeks spilling out from the cotton material. You hear him grunt again.

As you start grinding slowly, you snake one hand up to your chest and pinch your bud, rolling it between your two fingers, eliciting a moan from you.

“Fuck”

He’s getting louder, still muttering to himself as he watches you from behind a cedar tree. With his rifle still slung on his shoulder, he fists his cock, his other hand wide against the trunk to brace himself.

His eyes have gotten adjusted to the darkness, so when he returned quietly to the base you guys share, he saw you touching yourself in your sleeping bag underneath the moonlight.

He had debated on rubbing one out while checking the perimeters, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He knew he had to come back to you. He knew you would be relieving yourself like the good girl you are because you always listen to him, always do what you’re told.

But when he saw the frantic and frustrated way you slipped your pants off and bunched your bag to start humping, he knew he needed to watch. He needed to see the way you make yourself cum. 

“Joel” You moan out as you continue your pace, your hips bouncing as you hump.

He groans again, his southern drawl slipping out like honey “Oh…  fuck yeah baby girl, that’s it” You could hear his fist becoming more frantic against himself.

You decide to put on a show, grinding your hips in the most sensual way. Your pants getting breathier, your whines higher.

Joel was in a trance; he was fixated on you. Watching your every move, stroking himself to your pace. The view of your ass, the way your shirt slightly rises revealing the beautiful curve of your back, your hair swaying with your hips, you’re like a goddess in the woods. All he could picture was laying beneath you, letting you grind yourself on his mouth, tasting your juices, making you cum all over his face.

God, he wants you. He wants to show you he can be more than just your protector. He can help you, treat you so well, but he knows it would be so wrong. To some degree he’s taking advantage of you. You don’t know any better, not when you’re overwhelmed with all these kinds of needs. Hell, he’s overwhelmed himself but he’s also a lot older than you. He knows how to suppress it, how to will the feelings away and concentrate. But you, you’re not experienced. You need to make yourself cum in order to feel sane again. Once you’re this far deep into lust, it’s primal. It’s a need, not a want. He can’t blame you for caving into your desires yet him on the other hand, he’ll be held accountable by the devil himself.

But if there was ever a time where Joel was losing control with the fine line between right and wrong, it was now.

He continues his strokes, obsessing over how naughty you really are. He’s never seen you like this before. “C’mon baby, you can do it” He whispers.

You couldn’t stop yourself from what happened next.

“Joel?” You call out softly. All sounds cease.

“Yea?” He finally responds, after a long, quiet pause.

“Please” You beg “Please I need you.”

You curse yourself as you hear him zipping himself back up, suddenly feeling embarrassed as you’re still sitting in the state you are. 

You peek over your shoulder to see him approaching you, buckling his belt. His jaw ticking as he stares at your ass. His bulge seems to be growing bigger.

You prepare for the worst. For him to cuss you out or tell you that you missed your chance. Had you left it alone, the two of you would have finished and he would have returned a little later to make it seem as if he wasn’t there at all.

But you just couldn’t do that, could you?

“Get in the truck”. He growls, his boots drowning in the material of your sleeping bag. You look up at him, to him looking down at you. You couldn’t make out his face as the light of the moon is directly behind him.

“W-Why... a a-are we leaving?” You whisper, suddenly afraid you royally fucked up.

“Are you talkin’ back to me?” His voice is sharp. Deep. Serious. Unreadable.

You shook your head as submission rolls over you effortlessly. He hikes his jeans by pinching the denim near his crotch before squatting down to your level. His breath right next to your ear. You stare forward into the darkness as goosebumps rise all over your skin. You feel so vulnerable with Joel right behind you but just as excited. You flinch as soon as he speaks.

“If you want my help, then do what I say” he says in a low rumble. You pause, holding your breath.

“Think you can manage that?” He questions, his tone unrecognizable as he turns his head to inhale the scent of your hair. You shiver, nodding once more. Your heart rate picks up speed, thudding loudly.

“Then, get up and get in the truck.” He orders you slowly. Almost as if he’s trying to stop the words from coming out.

Your eyes widen at his demand, a jolt of electricity soaring through your chest straight to your abdomen. With a careful shuffle, you stand on your feet and start towards the truck.

In any other scenario, this feeling would make you shrink. It’s the way you can feel his eyes on you, the thud of his boots echoing behind your naked ones in the grass. But you love every second of it. You feel your confidence flourishing as you realize he needs this just as much as you do. If not more. You begin to walk straighter, hips swaying wider, a pep in your step as you feel the power shift ever so slightly into your control.

“Someone’s gettin’ cocky” Joel states behind you. His palm gripping his crotch as he watches you.

“I sure hope I get some” You grin to yourself, feeling proud at your remark.

Joel stops in his steps; he can’t believe your dirty mouth. Sure, you’ve been foul around him before, but never sexually and the very fact ignites something dark within him. He proceeds forward, eyeing you down as you wait near the truck with that shit-eating grin on your face.

She’s in for it now.

 “You think you’re funny?” He questions while approaching you. His large frame nearly swallowing you whole.

“Uh huh and I think you love it” You retort in your most sultry tone. The words hit him like a freight train, his cock bobbing in his jeans.

With a tut he leans into you “So ya’ think y’can toy with me?”

You can’t repress it, you’re beaming. You like the way Joel challenges you.

“I think it’d be better if I was yours, Miller” You reach out to grip his cock through his jeans.

He separates instantly, his face loss of all expression. The muscle in his jaw flexes as his eyes lock on yours.

“I think your attitude needs fucking fixin’” Your jaw drops at his profanity. Joel never speaks like this.

“You say that name one more time and so god help me,” He scowls “acting like a fuckin’ brat, tryin’ to rile me up” His eyes now black.

“Think that’ll end well f’ ya?” He questions, one brow raised.

You swallow, unsure if you took it too far.

“Well, you’re lucky, cus’ I enjoy turning brats into good girls... s’ you ready to learn some manners?” He mocks as he grips your mouth, which was still gaping.

“Start with closing that up until I say so, s’not lady like.” He pushes your chin up, your jaw closes with a click of your teeth. 

You scoff in disbelief, pulling your chin out of his hand yet you’re incredibly turned on. You watch him in curiosity as he opens the passenger door for you, his face now as hard as his cock. You wait, wanting to test his patience just a little.

You see his chest heave; his teeth grind together before he grips the door harder.

“Guess there won’t be any lessons tonight after all...real shame too, was gunna make that pretty pussy cream all over me” He shrugs, about to close the door.

“No! I’m sorry Joel, I’m going!” You jump into the seat with such speed it makes Joel smirk, but his jaw goes slack the second he sees the wet spot that had formed on your cotton panties as you crawl in.

He groans at the sight. But if he was going to stay true to his vows, you’d have to keep your panties on or else he may damn himself beyond saving. He only has so much self control.

You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you watch him slowly stride his way to the other side of the truck. Your breath quickens as his door swings open; your fingers shake with sheer excitement.

He starts unzipping his camel-colored jacket before shuffling in. With a toss, his jacket lands in the back seat as he closes the door with a thud.

You listen to him groan softly as he settles into the seat, before reaching down between his legs to pull on the bar to slide the chair back as far as it can go. You find yourself already scrambling onto your knees.

“Needy girl” he tuts “already so excited f’ me”. He locks eyes with you, a mischievous smile grows across his face as he takes his time positioning his legs.

He then reaches to the side of the seat to lean the backrest down, but not too far. This allows him to manspread while he rests his aching broad back at the same time.

With a deep inhale through his nostrils, he looks at you with now hooded eyes.

“Need you to listen closely now” His raises one index in the air. “I’m gunna help you alright?”

You whimper a “Mhm!”

“But there are rules. Rules you need to follow.” You roll your eyes at his comment, which is returned with a scowl across his face. You mouth a brief ‘sorry’ before motioning him to continue, your desires reaching a boiling point.

“You’re not takin’ anything off and you’re not touchin’ me anywhere unless I allow it” He glares sternly.

“Yes, okay Joel” you usher, wanting to be in his touch before he changes his mind.

 “Shouldn’t even be doing this, but I understand you’re having a hard time. Fuck, the state of our lives I can’t imagine the stress you feel, especially when you’re so young”. You squeeze your thighs, clenching around nothing as you wish he would get off the foreseeable guilt train.

“So that’s why I’m going to help you, understand?”

You nod furiously.

“Repeat it” He spits.

“I understand” You reply obediently.

With a quiet pause, Joel scans your features, his eyes trailing your desperate figure.

“C’mere” He pats his thigh with his large, calloused hand.

You obey, slowly crawling over to straddle his lap.

“Mmm” His chest rumbles. “She does listen”.  

His eyes are closed as you position yourself over one thick denim covered thigh, your right knee brushing up against his crotch. He hisses at the touch, letting his head fall back into the headrest.

You raise your hands to rest at the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling sheepish as you’re not sure exactly what to do. You bite your lip, too nervous to start. You realize just how exposed you feel when you're up to him this closely.

He opens his eyes to meet yours, sighing at how beautiful you look when you’re aching but more so at the fact that you’re visually embarrassed, and he loves it.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now. You were acting all brave just minutes ago.” He coos.

You blush at his words, starting to feel silly. But you need him to encourage you. You like it.

He swiftly smacks your ass and bounces his knee once – motioning you to get going.

“Joel” You whisper at the infliction, lowering your head to rest in his neck, repositioning yourself against him, closer. Just the contact of your hot core on him, makes your arousal pain even more. And the way he smells, you tuck your nose further in, inhaling the scent of his earthy musk, is intoxicating.

“C’mon baby girl. You can do it, I got you” He finally raises his hands from his sides to grip your hips as his own roll up into you, you follow once with yours. “You need to cum, so you can sleep tonight, trust me I know”. You begin to slowly roll your hips, falling right back into the state of pleasure.

“J-just like that sweetheart, keep going”. His voice becomes raspy.

You hang off his words as you start grinding, moaning at his fingertips digging deeper into your soft skin. Your buds harden at the friction of your wet clothed cunt being rubbed against his jeans. You can’t believe this, the fact that Joel himself is sat beneath you, cooing you to finish yourself off on him.

Your pants become whines as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten with each hump against him.

“That’s it, good girl. You’re gunna make a mess on me aren't ya?” He growls as he stares at your lips. Your cheeks burn at his comment. The embarrassment seeping back into you. You can hardly look at him.

“You keep those eyes on me sweetheart”. He orders, one hand pinching your chin, forcing you to see him, you still look anywhere but.

He can read you like an open book. He see’s right through you. Hell, most of the time he can predict the things you’ll say. He knows you just need some encouragement, some reassurance that it’s okay to be nervous but that you can trust him.

He ceases, waiting for those wide doe eyes to meet his and when they do, he can’t help but grin.

“Why?” You begin to question.

“Tell me you want this” he whispers, the words hang in the silence.

“I want this.” You grip the back of his neck tighter. “I just feel… dumb. I’m not sure how to do this”. You mumble.

“Sure y’ do” his words surprise you and when you look at him, the confusion is clear on your face.

“I just watched you do it when you were all by yourself, humping your bag, tryin’ to make that ache go away” He murmurs as one of his hands brush a stray hair behind your ear. You shudder at the touch.

“That’s all you have to do with me sweetheart, just use my thigh and make yourself feel good”. He urges you as he begins motioning your hips once more, you watch his face as you take over, following the sensation as it builds again.

“There y’ go, nothing to be shy ‘bout pretty girl, y’ just need my help ain’t that right?”

You bob your head yes as your pace begins to quicken.

“That’s my sweet girl, take what you need, s’ just the two of us” He coos as he helps you continue grinding.

You throw your head back at his praise, which Joel saw as his opportunity to fist your hair and hold you bare for him as he trails your neck with wet kisses. A risky move, but he tells himself it’s only to help you. And fuck does it ever spur you on.

His teeth graze against your sensitive flesh and your grinding becomes rougher, more desperate. Your whines turn to moans as you feel your cunt drip through the fabric, your climax just strokes away.

“Stop” He orders, and you do.

 Did you do something wrong?

He releases your hair slowly, inhaling deeply through his nose, his jaw ticking once more. He looks down at his lap, admiring your white panties.

“Slide back” He mumbles as he pushes your hips. “I need t’ see”.  You ease back, your mind drunk off his sudden dominance.

With a moan, he stares at your clothed pussy, admiring the wet slick between your folds. Your pussy lips so swollen, he could see it throb. He breaks away looking up, closing his eyes as if he’s trying to compose himself. Not a second later, he looks back at you again, back to your pooling core, his jaw goes slack as you already seem wetter, your damp stain somehow bigger.

“Look at that.” He gently inches your thighs apart with his massive hands, causing you to throb more.

“You see what you’re doin’ pretty girl?” His southern drawl spurs on another wave of ecstasy to rush through you as you watch his reaction.

He fists your hair once more, turning your head down to face his lap, you yelp in surprise but not because it hurts.

“Look”. He roughly pulls your head in place to view the dark, wet spot you’re making on his jeans.

“Have you been walkin’ around all wet in your panties this whole time?” he cranes his neck to meet your gaze as you look at the mess you’ve caused, mouth agape. His face hardens when he sees yours.

“What I’d fuckin’ say about hanging your mouth open like a whore?” he growls as he squeezes your chin and cheeks with his free hand. 

He holds you like that for a beat, one hand twisted in your hair, the other gripping your face restraining you from any movement. You gasp loudly when your cheeks are released from his tight hold, yet your hair is still intertwined in his fist as he forces you to look at your arousal again.

“That tight pussy droolin’ for me?” He questions sharply.

You finally murmur a yes while clenching your mouth shut as you blink slowly, drunk off being edged for so long.

“Yeah, I thought so” he says raggedly as if he’s been waiting for that very response. He lets you free as you lean back wanting to display yourself more. He sighs contentedly at the sight.

It’s become clear to you why Joel was so adamant about staying away. He’s primal in nature, but you had no idea he was this feral in lust. You smirk as you feel you’ve uncovered his dirty secret, his hidden persona. It makes you wonder how long he’s wanted you like this. If he was afraid of you seeing this side of him. And for some reason, that only makes you want him that much more.  

“Touch yourself for me, just a little rub.” He rests further back against the seat, watching you and those dirty gears running at an all time high.

You comply, running your hand down his chest as you snake your fingers against the white wet cotton, rubbing slow circles over your clit, moaning at the sensation. 

“Good girl” He praises. You can feel your wetness pooling through your panties as you continue rubbing yourself, your orgasm dangerously close. Your mouth drops again forming an “O” which elicits another groan from Joel as he watches you. “Yea, that’s the only time you’re allowed to look like that” He growls.

“I’m – I’m close Joel” You pant as he stares you down.

“That’s enough” You whine when he grabs your hand away from your core, bringing your fingers up to his face.

“Yea, I fuckin’ knew it” He groans, inhaling your fingers deeply, eyes closed. “I know you’re dripping in your little panties when I smell this scent off you” He smears your fingers roughly around his mouth and nose, still breathing you in. You watch in awe, the way he’s completely consumed by you.

“Hard t’ focus when you’re parading that little ass around me, reeking like this, just beggin’ to be filled up, you rub yourself like this around me at night?” He asks, voice hoarse.

Your cheeks burn again, but you nod once anyhow.

“My dirty, dirty girl. You’re just full of secrets, aren't yah”. He pants. “Fuckin’ knew you were wanting my cock. You just needed someone to make that ache go away, huh?”

You whine as you nod more, feeling so heard, so seen. “Yes Joel, yes” All you want is to feel him fill you up. Hit that spot that you can’t ever reach. You succumb to him, hoping he might just fuck you and you won’t have to get off like this. You want all of him. To discover more of who Joel is. Help him, just like he’s helping you.

“And you’re still treating me so good, listenin’ to what I say, even when I’ve been neglecting my poor baby” He drawls lazily as he pulls you back into place, and with another bounce of his knee, you resume your vicious pace chasing your orgasm. The way your perky breasts jiggle in your tank causing him to bounce his knee more, absorbing the view of you bobbing up and down with tears welling in your eyes.

You reach one hand down, to grip his hard on, wanting to feel his thickness again, hoping he might let you see it.

“No.” His hand wraps around your wrist in an instance. A grip so cruel, you swear there’ll be bruises when he lets go.

“Why not?” You cry, your hips still rolling.

“Boundaries, sweetheart. You can’t touch me there.” He smirks devilishly. He knows this is torture for you.

You whimper, your eyes falling to his lips. You want to make contact with those the most.

“Knock it off. I see the way you’re starin’. You’re not kissin’ me either.” His smile is now gone, yet his eyes sparkle. You swear he’s getting off by restricting your contact with him. He knows how badly you want it.

You rest your hands tightly around his neck again, the disappointment visible on your features.

“Don’t look at me like that, fuck, you have no idea what you do to me”.

You pout more, relishing in the way he’s weakening for you. 

“Tell you what” he drawls, slowing your pace. His fingers at some point had slipped into the band of your panties as he held your hips.

“Because you’ve been such a good girl f’me , I’ll let you kiss here” He raises an index to his scruffy cheek “And here” as he points to the other side.

You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you lean forward gently, placing a soft, agonizingly slow, peck to cheek, your nose brushing lightly against his skin. You test his limits as you get close to his lips as you make your way to the other side. You swear you feel him inch forward ever so slightly before falling back.

“God, you’re just a sweet lil thang aren’t yah” he groans at your light, edging touches. 

You pull back, feeling powerful at just how wrecked he looks. You bite your lower lip, continuing slow rolls.

You decide to do it again.

“Oh fuck, baby that’s enough” He moans as you place yet another teasingly slow kiss to his cheek, but close to the edge of his lips. He pulls his face away, turning to the side. He’s completely fucked out. His eyes heavy with pure want. God and this is just from kissing him.

Then something snaps in him as he grips your ass and makes you rub on him harder and lets your knee make more contact with his bulge.

“Yeah – yeah that feels really good” You mewl.

He turns his face back to yours, staring you down. His grip is getting harder, almost painful but you don’t care.

“Keep going” He rasps. “Don’t stop, I know you’re close.”

“Uh huh” You moan “You’re gunna make me cum Da- J- Joel” Your eyes widen at the fact you almost slipped, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.

His eyes go dark as he clutches your ass tighter, leaning his face into yours.

“What was that sweetheart?” He whispers with his teeth grit, his nose grazing the side of your cheek.

You whine as he helps you continue your pace, pushing you back and forth on his thigh.

His hand snakes up, gripping your cheeks between his thumb and index. “You fuckin’ answer me when ‘m talking to you” He spits lowly.

“It feels really good!” You squeal as he starts to slow your rhythm.

“What else?”

Your hooded eyes connect with his, your cheeky grin making his cock twitch more.

“Tell me” He orders.

You pull yourself into his neck before whimpering into his ear.

“It feels good … Daddy”.

His groan is guttural as he squeezes your ass cheeks together.

“My dirty girl, you need your Daddy to help you huh?” He pulls you closer, your knee making full contact against his throbbing cock.

You nod your head furiously as your brows knit, you know you’re about to cum.

“Tell me why I’m your Daddy” he orders, his brows rising and falling.

You start to babble “Because you protect me” you barely get the words out, you’re so wrecked.

“I do, don’t I?” His voice drops an octave, while analyzing your face.

“And you’d kill for me” you moan.

“I have,” He pulls you down hard into him and holds you there, while grinding his crotch into you. “Killed for you”.

His eyes scour you frantically. Like there is so much he wants to do with you. Endless thoughts running through his mind of all the ways he could ruin you.

“Take your fuckin’ shirt off” he says rushed, as if this moment could get ripped away from him.

You obey, reaching the hem, and pulling it off in one swift motion. You toss it behind you onto the dash.

“That’s right” He spanks your ass hard.

“Go” He grits, and you grind down, your tits bouncing just inches from his face. He moves his hands off you and puts them down at his sides. As if to physically restrain himself from touching you.

“Fucking perfect, like a god damn picture” he watches your breasts as you’re nearing your climax again.

“M’ can’t let anyone hurt my special girl.” His expression turns hard as he feels his possessive side creep up. The men he murdered this morning were an exact representation of what he’ll do for you. Without question. He knew he was going to feel the blade sink in their flesh the second one laid eyes on you, the intention loud in his irises.

“I never wanna be apart from you Joel, you make me feel safe” Your confession comes out before you can stop it.

“I know baby, I know but fuck I love to hear it” He could listen to your sweet voice all day.  

“Take your pants off, please” You beg but it sounds more like a squeal.

“No” He barely whispers.

“Please, Daddy please please, I wanna cum on you, it hurts!” You cry.

“Jesus Christ” His hands go to his belt, anxiously unbuckling, as you continue to mewl hovering above him.

“Always so fuckin’ needy” He pulls his jeans down his thighs before grabbing you and pulling you down aggressively onto him, his boxers the only thing confining his cock. "That's all you get" He spits.

“Wait” You reposition yourself, now straddling his lap. One knee on either side of his hips as you grind your wet, hot clothed cunt onto his massive, throbbing cock.

The moan that comes out of you is straight pornographic.

You suddenly lurch forward, before realizing he reclined the seat back further, almost laying flat.

“Put those fuckin’ tits on my face baby” He commands desperately.

You place your knees higher up on the cushioned seat. You pull yourself upwards to smother his face with your breasts. Joel's rough hands are still by his sides, he knows he’ll lose all sense of control if he gets any closer. No, it has to be your move.

“Yeah, Yeah, Joel please” You moan as he begins to softly kiss your breasts.

 “You need more baby?” He gasps, his voice strained with want.

“Tell Daddy y’ need more, you need more help, I have to help” He consoles himself as he begins to suckle your buds, licking long strips wherever he can. It’s animalistic. You run your fingers through his salt and pepper locks as you essentially motorboat his face.

“You’re my special girl” He spills in a drawl. “Never gunna let anyone touch you.”

You can’t wait any longer, you sit back down on his bulge, wishing it was freed to split you in half but this will have to do. So, you grind, hunting your orgasm down once again, absorbing, engraining this picture of Joel in your mind forever.

And fuck, the way he talks to you, you’re lost in a trance, chasing after your high as you stare into his face. His eyes, his smile lines, the scar across his bridge, the way he looks down at his lap as he watches you, his jaw going slack. He’s perfect.

“Fuck I can smell you baby girl, your sweet pussy is beggin’ to come all over me” He growls “C’mon give it to me”. You take his permission and allow yourself to play on that teetering edge, right on the cusp of your much awaited orgasm.

“S’ okay baby girl, I got you, I got you”. He slumps back further, eyes trained on your clothed pussy grinding on his hard on with such desperation. He feels his own coming on as you rub against him.

 “Not such a brat now huh? Not when I’m taking care of you” he says as his tired eyes scan your figure. You cry out at his words.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, S’ gunna feel better baby, gunna make that ache go away” He drawls out. 

“Fuck, fuck” He mumbles, his eyes so hooded, you could have thought they were closed. All color drains from his face as he continues watching your motions. He can see wet, shiny strings appear from your panties, catching onto his boxers before they break apart from sliding back and forth. He can feel how absolutely soaked you are, that spot seeping through the fabric onto his skin underneath.

“That’s it pretty girl, right on daddy’s cock, right there”. His words fall out.

“I’m cum-I’m cumm-Daddy- oh yeah, Joel, Joel!” You scream.

You squeal as your orgasm comes rippling through, your thighs tightening around him as he feels your cunt pool through your panties all over him, your mouth hangs open as you ride out the waves of sensation.

“Jesus Christ”. He groans at the sight of you.

You rest your head against his heaving chest, riding out the stars that clouded your head.

The two of you sit there for a moment, collecting your breaths before he nudges you to the side.

“Wait here” he mumbles, exiting the truck. You watch him through the rear window, straining your eyes to see him in the dark. You think you see him readjusting his crotch again before he leans down, grabbing both sleeping bags and the lantern.

You’re still dizzy from finishing on Joel's lap, your mind trying to comprehend what had just happened. You never thought you’d see the day where Joel would touch you or look at you in any way other than ‘Cargo’.

The breeze from outside whirls into the truck as you sit there waiting for him. He opens the back door, laying down the sleeping bags on top of one another across the bench.

“What’re you doing?” You murmur, cupping the back seat with your hands, watching him with sleepy eyes.

“Don’t want you sleepin' outside tonight” He responds, glancing at your tired gaze.

“C’mon” He waves you over. You scootch over to the driver seat and let your legs dangle out the door. He meets you there, one of his massive hands held out to grab yours, helping you to your feet and pulling you in front of him, guiding you to the back door. You let go of his touch to crawl to your revised sleeping quarters.

You slip in between the two bags, which Joel had unzipped. Laying one down, the other as a blanket on top. He also folded up his jacket as a pillow, which made you smile. You watch him tuck the fabric under your feet, making sure all parts of you are covered. He finds your jeans and your shirt and puts them aside for when you’d dress in the morning. Your sneakers on the ground beside the truck.

You can’t stop the warm glow growing inside you as you watch this man take care of you in such a way that seems so… domestic. It makes you wonder about him pre break out, and what he was like living in a house, working an 8-5 job, making dinners and probably having cold ones in the evening on a patio.

He closes the driver door before returning to you.

“Are you coming to bed?” You whisper with heavy eyes.

“No” he chuckles lightly “M’ wide awake now, gunna keep watch, we really do have a long day tomorrow so get some sleep alright?” He looks at you as one of his arms draped over the heavy truck door, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He looks proud, which you would roll your eyes at, but you’re far too tired.

“Joel” You whisper, bringing his attention back to you as he was looking over his shoulder, scanning the night.

“Mhm?”

“I still wanna repay the favor y’know” you mumble, your eyes closed, already drifting off.

He chuckles again; the sound brings a grin to your face.

“Not necessary, couldn’t stop myself from cumin' while watching you”. He sighs heavily, muttering to himself “like a goddamn teenager”.

You giggle at the comment. Which Joel couldn’t help but grin too, you didn’t see though.

“Goodnight Miller” You barely hear the words yourself as you fall into a deep slumber.

“Night sweetheart”.

[eves4pple]

MUKAMI HOUSEHOLD HC’S

A/n: Long time no see!! Work and life got super crazy but I’ve been indulging in Diabolik Lovers again! Alongside that! For a few months I’ve been rewriting DL (more like my own au!!) just small tweaks and adding more realistic characterizations to characters I enjoy! So I decided to make a list of my headcanons for the Mukami household + Yui (she’s my beauty)

TW: slight mention and hint at abuse, mention of sexual abuse, mention of animal death

Take all of these at face value I’ve done my research to the best of my abilities and are basing this off of the things I’ve read, played, and watched! Plus my own little personal things!

- A quieter household. Each brother seems to have their own hobbies and tends to stick to themselves. This doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy each others company, they seem like the only group to like REALLY enjoy being around each other. Brother banter and all that nonsense.

- isn’t the safest but compared to the Sakamaki household Yui is in less danger. She actually spends more time pursuing schooling and smaller hobbies here without much backlash. Yuma and her garden often and Ruki helps her study. But of course this kinda stuff is paid back in blood so, you win some loose some

- Yuma will tease all 3 brothers for their height, I believe this may be canon? But it’s really Kou he has spats with over their heights. As an idol Kou is notoriously over dramatic and borderline narcissistic (and very full of himself) so he’s kinda pissy Yuma hangs his height over his head, but it’s all in good fun! (Usually)

-Yui and Ruki don’t really get along in the beginning. Which duh, but after a long period of time Yui began to get annoyed with being bossed around? I mean I would to, so he kinda grossed her out. Too much like an Ayato Reiji mix

- it’s mentioned either that in a CD or clip from more blood (the game) that Yui housed a kitten and was healing it back to health and Ruki killed it. This also kinda solidified their relationship into not being great. Yui believes very strongly in her morals and Ruki is one to oppose them. Meaning that in her eyes he’s cruel and in his she’s weak.

- Azusa is super interested in religions. Not like in them but he thinks the rules and regulations are kinda interesting to look into, he asks Yui a lot of questions about her faith and what it means to her.

- Yuma and Yui get along the best, the brothers were once human and I feel like don’t lack empathy to the extent pure bloods do. Course they will make comments that have Yui going “???” Because they are still entitled vampires

- The kinda group to have annoying ass orders at cafes. They don’t go out as a group much but when they get the chance they do. So when Yui joined she tagged along (of course they were like helicopter parents). Kou wants something sweet all the time so it’s either a milkshake/frappe nonsense, Ruki is the one who makes in super obvious he “just wants a black coffee. Black, no sugar or cream”, now Azusa’s order isn’t hard but he’s so quiet that it’s hard to catch it all so it’s usually made wrong on accident. Yuma sticks to the same thing but it’s a coffee with like 13 different steps that by the end it’s like a concoction of sugar, cream, flavoring, and coffee.

- Yui has an easy order, usually a tea. She avoids most coffee’s due to her sleep already being out of whack

- Yui has nightmares often due to the abuse she’s faced and she’s semi opened up to Azusa abt them in passing but tends to shut it down if pried.

- Ruki is stressed almost always. With the stress of being Adam kinda solely falling on his shoulders he doesn’t sleep often or even at all.

- this is supposedly canon but, Yuma likes bigger curvy girls in my mind :3

- Kou likes Kesha, Megan, and other female rap/pop artists. I also feel like Yui also dabbles with that kinda music but it isn’t her favorite

- Yuma’s the kinda brother that gives his brothers the faulty gaming controller :/

- Yuma and Kou smoke weed 100% idk I feel like they’d enjoy it, Ruki has a few times but usually just tells them off. Azusa has zero interest, Yui also has dabbled and she enjoyed it but getting high with like supernatural creatures can be… anxiety inducing?

- Ruki seems like one of those kids who’d have a super non trad kinda pet? Idk a snake or something. Not messy, loud, and chill

- Kou seems like the type to be sex repulsed often? He’s an idol and gets sexualized a lot in the limelight so bad correlation but even if he hates it he still does it to Yui

- Yui also is very sex repulsed

- yuma has a hard time coming to terms with his past with Shuu? It’s a weird grief thingy

- I feel like sometimes, only sometimes, they miss being human. I believe it’s semi mentioned already. But I feel like when Yui started living with them they started noticing that feeling more in an angry/sad way.

[tototalks]

And so here we are, the final ramble! I just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who has been on this lil reading voyage with me and put up with my dumb memes lol. You’ve all been awesome! Special thanks go to @evilovesyou for getting me to read! 💙

(HAHAHA WTF DO I DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?! 😂)

My final King’s Rising thoughts 👑👑

- Gotta love Damianos, King of Akielos, looking down at a broken cart and being like “I’m too privileged to know how to fix this” while Lazar and Pallas fuck unsubtly in the background.

- LAMEN. CRYING. 😭😭😭 Laurent really chose Damen’s high school bully nickname.

- Charls is an actual MVP. He took one look at Laurent and understood the assignment. He’s a cousin to the King of Vere now. He is actually a part of the royal family. Ring bearer at the wedding. I don’t make the rules. And the absolute best part about it is that he never fuckin finds out 😂

- Laurent is having the absolute time of his life. He’s sat there TRASHING Nikandros and telling all these Akeilon sluts to cover their arms and accidentally reinventing the cloth trade. What a legend 😂

- The night they spend at the inn is so so significant. Laurent realising that he’s allowed to have desires and finally being asked what he wants. But also the undercurrent of being scared and confused by what turns him on because of his history. Damn I love that his traumatic experiences don’t disappear just because he has Damen now.

- I also need a whole book about their trip through Akeilos - Laurent being too pale and northern for the heat is SO real lol

- King Damianos promising to end slavery 🥲

- I need Laurent and Nikandros to become friends who tease each other ruthlessly.

- Okay so the kid is Kastor’s. I have to admit, I really do appreciate Jokaste and her sacrifices to a certain degree - not the whole degree - but a certain degree.

- Laurent giving himself over for Damen’s sake and the child. Holy shit the symbolism. Damen hearing the Regent confirm what he already kind of knew about Laurent and going apeshit, and Laurent realising he’s defending him. 💔

- “Throw up quick, we need to go.” Nikandros, I love you.

- Damen just WALKING IN to surrender. He really said all eyes on me you’re not gonna forget this.

- He stands up for Laurent against all the odds and I cannot even imagine what that felt like for Laurent.

- GUION YOU RAT ASS MOTHERFUCKER (I should have seen this coming.)

- And this is why you NEVER cross a mother about the ones she loves - the Regent is being taken down by every child he abused and that is exactly how I wanted him to fall. So satisfying.

- Paschal’s testimony and it all coming together. I ADORE how no character is forgotten or irrelevant once they die. Nicaise, Aimeric and even Govart were significant to the Regent’s downfall. The perfect evidence for the council to acquit Laurent and charge the Regent.

- I have to mention the 11 year old boy and how Laurent protects him when he sees him worry for the Regent upon his execution. He truly doesn’t understand what’s going on and the manipulation runs deep. Laurent broke that cycle of abuse.

- Kastor vs. Damianos - another fight that was always meant to happen and solidified that Kastor cannot be redeemed, even by Damen’s kindness.

- Laurent being the one to kill Kastor was only fitting. He’s fulfilled himself, Auguste, and Damen, and he used something so himself to do it. His wits. I really love that.

- And finally we have two legitimate kings, friends, and lovers. Ruling over two kingdoms that will probably end up one. An absolute perfect ending. ♥️

What an absolute ride. Shoutout C.S. Pacat for an awesome story ♥️…. I start the side stories Friday 😂 Y’all on tumblr have one more job, and that’s to fill my inbox with AO3 links 😉🥰 I have a character song playlist to curate lol

[andromeda-galaxy2877]

I Promise...I'll do better.

First write fight attack! @untitled-tmnt-blog 's prompt 2, "New dad Splinter (Rise), very unprepared, but doing the best he can" this is for @tmnt-write-fight !! Y'all know I adore Rise Splinter, I just HAD to pick this one for my first attack. I hope you enjoy!

Quick warning! This fic does depict some issues with body image, due to Splinter's mutation.

-----------------------------

Lou was far out of his depth.

Huddled in a box in a rainy alley, four sleeping little baby turtles— whom of which he was beginning to fear weren’t really just animals anymore— curled in his arms, sheltered from the cold.

Babies.

They were babies.

Not animal young, not little creatures, not pets— babies. Children. Once he’d gotten over his initial panic and the chaotic whirlwind of emotions that had swamped him over being a literal goddamn rat now it hadn’t exactly been difficult to realize how the turtles had changed.

‘...What on earth do I do now?’

Going back into the Hidden City was completely out of the question. Big Mama would have her people crawling around all over the place trying to find him, to force him back into that arena. Not to mention Baron Draxum would certainly be looking for Lou Jitsu and his creations, determined to fulfill their true intention. 

‘Over my dead body.’ Lou’s hands curled over their shells protectively. There was not a chance in hell he would allow these sweet creatures to become monsters. 

So that ruled out the Hidden City, where Lou’s…new appearance would be accepted without second thought. But…the human world wasn’t exactly the best place for that either. He grimaced, pulling his legs closer to his body. His stomach roiled in disgust at the fur he could see poking through, his misshapen feet. ‘What did he DO to me?’

The sight of his monstrous, clawed hands curled around the innocent creatures made his stomach churn. His body still ached from the transformation, his vision was different— blurrier, he had assumed that it was from the panic but it was staying— ‘Why is it staying??’ He was disgusting, a monster, he—

A soft squeak caught his attention, snapping him free from the downward spiral. He looked down, noticing the large spiky turtle gently nuzzling into his hand. Lou’s eyes softened as he gently stroked the baby’s shell, chuckling softly at the ensuing…chirp? Turtles chirp?

‘Right. I…need to figure out what to do.’ Lou swallowed tightly, daunted by the sudden responsibility thrust onto his shoulders. He had never done well with this before, and now to be responsible for other lives? Oh dear god.

Gathering the babies close to his chest, Lou carefully exited the box, hesitating after he had gotten to his feet. Returning to the human world would be impossible now. He was hit with a wave of desolation, pure defeat at that realization. ‘I could never go back to my career like this. Could I even go back at all…? How long has it been since I was taken?’ He didn’t even want to know. ‘My coworkers, my friends…’ He…he would never see them again. They would never accept him like this.

His life was over.

A little warble caused his gaze to lower, the stinging in his eyes signaling the wet drops falling onto the babies’ shells was not only from the rain. The one with orange spots was looking up at him with big eyes, another soft warble escaping its beak. It was then Lou realized it was shivering—- they all were. 

Something solidified in his chest. His life may be over, but theirs had only just begun.

He would not fail them.

Shielding them closer to his chest, Lou made his way towards the back of the alley, searching for something that could act as a better shelter than that worn and torn box. Dumpsters, a pile of garbage bags, a torn up pile of blankets…a manhole.

Lou grimaced, hissing through his teeth. That would be disgusting. But… ‘What choice do I really have anymore?’

Passing the babies into one hand, he gripped the manhole cover in the other and hauled it to the side. The ladder seemed to lead into an endless abyss of darkness, his vision swimming for a moment at the daunting sight. He hesitated, ‘...Is there nothing else I could do?’

One of the turtles— the one with the soft, leathery shell— let out a fearful little chirp. Lou immediately gently stroked its shell, shushing it. “I know, little turtle. I know…don’t be scared.” 

‘That’s MY job!’ He thought with a shaky chuckle. Cradling the four babies in his arm, Lou carefully climbed down the ladder with the other. 

_______________________

A few hours had passed since then. And Lou had never felt so out of place in his entire life.

He had found a large atrium, deciding to make it into their home. Using some old blankets and a damp box he had grabbed from the alley, he formed a bed for the babies. And for a few haunting hours, Lou had sat and contemplated the complete shitstorm his life had become as the babies peacefully slept.

And then a piercing wail broke through that fog.

Lou startled, a sharp gasp of surprise escaping him as his hand flew up to cover his heart. He looked over at the box, eyes wide and heart pounding as he carefully fished out the shrieking turtle. ‘Is it hurt?? What happened?!’

The other babies let out whimpers as their sibling was taken from them, but Lou ignored them as he turned the baby over in his hand. The turtle looked up at him, sniffling, before letting out another cry.

Lou flinched, his ears pinning down to his head to try and block out the noise. He patted the red-striped turtle’s shell soothingly, grimacing “It’s alright, it’s alright little turtle…what are you crying for?”

The baby paused, blinking a few times. Then a series of chirps escaped its beak, rapid and increasing in volume.

Lou winced again, rubbing his head. “My, you are a talkative one, aren’t you…”

‘Something’s wrong. It doesn’t seem to be hurt though— what’s the problem??’ Lou’s concern grew as the wails did in volume, even more so as the other babies joined in. He carefully set the red-striped one back with its siblings, but unfortunately that did not stop the cries.

And then it hit them.

‘They’re hungry! Oh I’m so stupid—’ How had he not thought of that?!

‘...What the hell do turtles eat?’

Well, it was time to find out. Lou hesitated as he looked back down at the babies, their tearful little eyes and wobbling lips striking his heart. His gaze softened as he scooped the babies up with their blanket, holding them to his chest. “Alright…let's go find you turtles some food.” 

All four babies let out a chaotic little series of chirps, the red-striped one patting his little hands against the leathery-shelled one’s face. It immediately grumbled, snapping its teeth at the fingers.

Lou sighed, shaking his head fondly as the spiky one shuffled its way between them, chirping in annoyance before settling against the blanket with a little chirp. The orange spotted one seemed content to just rest beside its siblings, but its expression was twisted. 

Hungry. The poor babies were still hungry.

Lou began making his way out of the atrium, heading back into the tunnels towards the ladder. He grimaced as his bare, spindly claws clicked against the grimy concrete below. He did not want to be doing this, doing any of this— all he wanted was to huddle up in a corner and cry.

But as the soft sniffling of the red-striped turtle started up again, that thought faded away in an instant. All that mattered right now was taking care of these little turtles.

Climbing up the slippery, wet ladder one-handed was a lot easier going up than down. Easier to see where he was going, at least. As he made it halfway— his arm slipped. 

Heart lurching into his throat, Lou instinctively released his cargo to grab the ladder— before he immediately realized what he had done, and nearly dropped himself back down the ladder to catch the bundle.

‘Tell me they’re alright, tell me I didn’t already fail them—’

Lou could barely breathe as he carefully untucked the top of the blanket, counting one, two, three—

Three turtles.

Where was the red-striped one?! Lou’s ears were ringing, chest so painfully tight he could barely even think— and then a squeaky giggle caught his attention. The man turned his head, spotting the missing turtle sitting on the rung right over his head.

Lou blinked rapidly, the relief he felt near-dizzying. “What are you doing up there, you silly daredevil?” He reached a clawed hand out, gently scooping the baby back into his arms, and safely returning it to the blanket with its siblings. “Give me a damn heart attack, why don’t you…”

He finished climbing up the ladder, taking a moment to sit down outside and catch his breath. The rain seemed to have halted, dawn’s light gently painting the alley in a warm orange glow. As his panic slowly ebbed, guilt quickly encroached on where it had once been.

‘Why did I do that?! That was beyond reckless, so stupid— it could have died, they ALL could have!’ Lou swallowed tightly. 

He was not cut out for this.

He had never wanted to be a parent. He blanched at the word, terror striking him. ‘I can’t be a father. I cannot be their father, they need someone better than me.’

But who? He couldn’t just leave them at a pet store and hope for the best, they clearly weren’t normal turtles anymore. It didn’t take a genius to realize that. The human world would never accept them. Leaving them somewhere up here would only be a death sentence, either some small-minded human would hurt them or bring them to a scientific laboratory to be—-

‘NOPE. NOPE. Do NOT follow that line of thought, you JUST calmed down from panic!’ He scolded himself, shaking his head. No, the human world would not be safe.

The Hidden City could be…maybe there was an orphanage that cared for children, maybe he could find them a good family. With parents who were equipped to handle them, ready to raise them, who wouldn’t put them in danger by climbing a wet ladder with them with one hand.

But…

‘If Draxum found them...’ No. No, that was not an option.

The turtles’ only option was him. 

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, curling his knees to his chest as he cradled the babies closer. “You deserve so much more than me.”

The spiky turtle’s face scrunched up, an incoherent soft little murmur-babble leaving his beak as he gently patted Lou’s muzzle.

Lou chuckled wetly, smiling softly as the other little turtles followed the spiky one’s lead. “Thank you, little ones. I…I will do my best to care for you.” ‘I can only hope it will be enough…’ “Now. Let's find you food, shall we?”

The little turtles remained curled up in a little huddle together as he stood, eyes scanning the alley. His vision was still blurry— only further confirming his fear that this was permanent— but he spotted a large enough scrap of fabric to wrap himself in. The man carefully set the babies down as he did so, doing his best to cover every inch of exposed fur and otherwise rat-like traits.

A series of chirps caught his attention; Lou turned, heart leaping as he expected to find the babies in peril again— only to see them all messing with bits of fabric. It seemed it had come from a rainbow t-shirt, but the spiky turtle was hard at work chewing it to pieces, a scrap of red fabric still hanging from its jaws.

Lou chuckled, kneeling down to pull the fabric out of its mouth. “That’s not good food, little— uh…” 

He forgot to name them.

‘I should probably do that.’ They needed good names, something meaningful…he couldn’t think of anything now, with his mind the chaotic spiral it had remained trapped in since he had escaped that wretched lab.

He glanced around between all the babies again, noting the colors they were on— or, in the spiky one’s case, currently chewing on—- ‘WHERE DID IT GET MORE?!’ — Red, Blue, Purple, Orange.

“I’ll call you all that for now. While I think.” He muttered, scooping the little ones back up. Maybe he could take pieces of cloth on the way back, give them each little necktie bandanas? Whatever. That didn’t matter right now; what did matter, was finding these babies something to eat.

…Maybe visiting a pet store wasn’t such a terrible idea. Just to ask what to feed a turtle. That would be his first step. Then he would find said food, get the babies properly fed and bring them back to that atrium…and then…

Then…take it day by day. Raise them as best he could. It was all he could do now.

Lou was far out of his depth.

But maybe…

Maybe everything would be alright in the end.

[sapphire-weapon]

When Capcom sat down to write RE4make and Separate Ways, they had to have a moment of reckoning when it came to Ada's character:

Do they continue to write out her romance with Leon, or

Do they commit to her role as an ambiguous third party agent keeping her fingers in all of the pies?

They chose the latter. They chose the latter because it was more important, narratively. And they couldn't have both, because having both doesn't make any fucking sense and never has made any fucking sense.

Ada is a selfish character, at her core. To have her constantly be soft for Leon undermines that selfishness and makes her other actions not make any sense; if she cared that much about him, why would she continuously serve the bad guys that make his life a living hell? And the reverse is also true. Why would she care so much about Leon if all he does is get in her way and act as a distraction for her?

So anyone who complains that RE4make's Separate Ways didn't show Ada caring enough about Leon -- that was the point. They solidified her identity as a character by doing that.

The writers of the Remake series made a conscious decision to make Leon and Ada's interactions/relationship in RE2make serve an actual function/purpose for their characters instead of "uwu they're in love."

For Leon -- Ada taught him that the people opposed to him aren't always bad guys. She taught him the true lesson of "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions." He learned to trust that little voice in the back of his head that tells him "something's not right here." She also taught him that there's a way to do the right thing without following the rules -- and, sometimes, by breaking them entirely.

For Ada -- Leon taught her that being independent doesn't mean self-isolating -- because just looking out for herself and no one else actually resulted in her just keeping her head down and not asking questions, which screwed her over big time in the end. Leon didn't teach her love or compassion or empathy; he showed her that she was actually being just as naive as he was, just on the other side of the fight.

Basically, they both taught each other: QUESTION EVERYTHING. Because that was the one thing that neither of them did in RE2make until it was way, way too late.

And so, in RE4make/Separate Ways, Ada spends far less time and emotional energy worrying about Leon because she's actually taking the lesson he taught her to heart and she's questioning the people and circumstances around her in order to protect herself. That was the point of her early voiceover about how Raccoon City changed her perspective and made her start asking where her efforts were going and why she was doing what she was sent to do.

She doesn't ask questions for moral reasons. She asks them for selfish ones. Because Ada is an inherently selfish character.

On the boat, Leon asks Ada: "Are you just trying to use me again?" and Separate Ways answers and repeats over and over and over again: YES. The only reason she helps Leon in the village and at Mendez's house is so that he can continue being useful for her. Because Leon didn't teach her to care about people; Leon only taught her how to better take care of herself -- the same way she did for him.

This is a really damning exchange of words:

So, yes -- Ada is using Leon in RE4make. Yes, she only helps him because it benefits her. No, she genuinely doesn't care whether he lives or dies. Yes, she meant it when she told Leon to leave Ashley for dead, and yes, her sole reason for doing it was to get Ashley out of the way because Ada found Leon's new demeanor hot and she wanted to fuck him. No, she had no intention of taking Ashley with them on the chopper at the end -- because yes, her invitation to Leon was a bookend to her earlier offer for Leon to leave Ashley and go fuck her (Ada) instead.

And that's why Leon tells her to go fuck herself and shakes his head in utter disbelief when she asks if he's coming with her.

Because Ada is a selfish character.

I don't say this to hate on the character or even express dislike for her. This doesn't make her a bad character -- in fact, the opposite is true. It makes her consistent, which makes her a better written character overall from what/who she was in OG.

It also doesn't make her evil or a bad guy. Ada Wong is the most Chaotic Neutral character in the entire RE series -- even moreso than Billy Coen or Jake Muller ever were. She's in it for herself, and that particular approach is neither inherently morally good nor evil.

But Aeon is dead canonically in the Remake-verse. It was sacrificed in the name of bringing consistency and logic to both characters.

And that was the true point of the boat scene.

Neither of them have changed who they are at their most fundamental level. Leon is still the selfless hero, and Ada is still the selfish spy. Their relationship in RE2make served as a strengthening of those core traits -- not an erosion of them. Leon can better protect and save Ashley because of the lessons that Ada taught him, and Ada can successfully outmaneuver Wesker because of the lessons that Leon taught her.

But that doesn't change who she is. It doesn't change who either of them are. In fact, it only served to create a more authentic version of them both. Leon is more zealous in his heroism, and Ada is more committed to her own self-preservation and naked about her selfish intentions.

The only people in RE4make who changed who they were were Luis and Krauser. Luis for the better, and Krauser for the worse. And they both paid for it with their lives.

[tinydeskwriter]

Actress!y/n Talking About Harry in Interviews Over the Years (2014-2017)

A/n: before committing into writing 2014 til 2023 I want to see you guys opinion, and I just watched a bunch of interviews to get ideas from. Just as a career background for the reader: She’s a former Disney Channel star, from the Miley, Selena, Demi, Jonas Brothers generation, she went into Hunger Games to solidify herself, before going for more Award bait movies and a musical career. She won Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in 2016 and Best Actress in 2017, this has happened before once at the Academy Awards, Tom Hanks if I am not mistaken.

word count: 2964

The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Oct, 2014:

“And we are back with Y/n Y/l/n.” Ellen said to the audience before turning back to the young artist sitting in her couch. “So, you’re single…”

The people cheered in the audience.

“I like how you say this and it isn’t even a question.”Y/n joked looking a the people in the audience, making everyone laugh, including the presenter, who laughed a little embarrassed by the misstep. “But, yeah, I’am single and ready to mingle.”

“So just to clear up rumours: you aren’t hooking up with your hunk of a co-star?”the blonde joked, keeping up with the young woman sarcasm and good humor. 

“Which one? You have to be specific here, I literally have a lot of male co-star, but as a personal rule, I don’t date them… or hook up.” The young actress clarified, looking at Ellen and them the public. “But I specially don’t hook up with guys in relationships, that’s really trash person behavior.”The girl’s response was applauded by the women in the audience. “Thank you, thank you,”She said seriously, signaling them to calm down, “don’t go applauding me for not doing something I wouldn’t want done to me.”

Which generated a new wave of applause.

“Now, calm down guys, we have a game to play” Ellen asked the audience, waiting for the noise in the studio to subside before turning to the guest in the couch, “So, you’re single, and ready to mingle, so we’re going to play a game, so I can get to know your type, and perhaps help you find love, and end your loneliness.” The presenter said looking at Y/n while ‘Who’d You Rather?’ appeared on the back screen. “It’s a little game of Who’d You Rather? We are going to put two pictures in the screen and you’re going to choose one guy over the other.”

“O-kay.”the young actress agreed, looking to the screen.

“Perfect, let’s start with Nick Jonas or Harry Styles?”The host asked as pictures of the two man showed up in the screen.

Y/n looks pointedly at Ellen, who’s hiding a little smile while looking straight to the young artist.

“I’ve been really enjoying Nick Jonas’s music.” The actress said admiring the picture of he two men on screen. “‘Chains’ is just so sexy, and ‘Jealous’ is kinda of sexy and funny, I totally see his appeal…”

“I am feeling a ‘but’ coming.”Ellen interrupted her.

Y/n paused for a moment amid the crowd cheering, laughing at they enthusiasm. “But, I don’t know Nick Jonas, and I kinda of know Mr.Styles…”The crowd went crazy with her declaring to know the One Direction singer. “Harry is such a nice guy, so very polite.”

“So, Harry Styles, because he’s polite?”Ellen asked her with that knowing smile.

Y/n just hided her face with one hand, she knew the blonde was doing that on purpose, probably with her boyfriend’s blessing to torture her in national television.

She just nodded in agreement without taking her face off her hand.

“Okay, nice, so Harry Styles or Michael B Jordan?”Ellen asked, seeming to be having the time of her life.

Y/n raised her face, looking at the two pictures.

“I mean…”The young woman put a finger in her lower lip, arching her eyebrow towards the audience. “Gosh, this is tough, but I am nothing if not constant, so Styles.”

“Harry Styles or Zac Efron?”

“I don’t feel like Zac is age appropriated for me, so I will keep Harry.”She knew that Harry was probably having a lot of fun in her dressing room.

“You know this is only a pretend game, right?”The presenter asked, making even Y/n break character. “Now, Harry Styles or Bruno Mars?”

“Bruno is a very talented man, but I will keep my answer, I feel like he’s a little older for me, different phases, while Harry and I are around the same age, so, I am going with Harry.”She shrugged.

“Harry Styles or John Meyer?” Ellen asked.

“Give me some Harry Styles.” She didn’t even had to ponder her answer, the whole world probably knew already that John Meyer was a walking red-flag.

“Harry Styles or Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“Jake is hot, I had a major crush a few years back, but that had been said, I got over it, so, Styles.”The young woman said without taking her eyes off the hem of her Oscar de la Renta dress.

“Harry Styles or Calvin Harris?”

“You know, I am starting to think that you took those guys from a Taylor Swift’s exes list.” The actress commented, making the audience go wild as Ellen laughed. “That said, Calvin Harris is Taylor Swift’s boyfriend, so I kinda of feel obligated to choose Mr.Styles.”

“I’s not because you want to choose Harry…”Y/n hated he cynical smile in Ellen’s face.

“Noooo-no-noo-no.” The actress denied hilariously. “I’am a respectful girl, I don’t want other girl’s man, and that’s why I’am keeping Harry Styles.”

“Perfect.” Ellen said still smiling, “Yeah, Harry Styles or Jared Leto?”

“Wouldn’t it be fun, if I came the whole game with Harry just to switch him for Jared Leto?”She asked, knowing the uproar it would cause. “Jared is so handsome, so very talented, he’s vegan… but like, he’s in his forties, kinda of my mom’s age, it would be weird, so let’s keep Harry.”Not even Ellen was been able to keep a straight face anymore. “I mean, we came all this way, I feel like settling for Harry.”

“I think you’re one of the few twenty-years old that would ever say that.” Ellen said, making Y/n laugh, the two looked at the screen expecting the next guy, only to have Harry photo single out in the middle of the screen. “Looks like we have a winner, Mr. Harry Styles, wouldn’t it be funny if he was backstage?”

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, Nov, 2015

“You’ve had quite the year, you released a album, that it’s absolutely amazing and is at the top of every chart, and you starred in three fantastic movies this year: Cinderella, Carol and The Hunger Games Mockingjay Part II, which by the way is premiering tomorrow…” Jimmy Fallon said to the cheering of the audience.

“Yeah, feels like the end of a era.” Y/n said with a bright smile, crossing her legs and resting one elbow on the support of the armchair.

“This is the last installment in the franchise, it must be quite a special premiere,” Jimmy said. “early this year, during Cinderella’s London premiere you had a very special guest at the red carpet with you, are you bringing him again for this premiere, or that was a one time only thing? Are you guys still friends?” He joked using the term the actress herself had used before when referring to hers and Harry’s relationship.

The actress blushed a little, a shy smile on her face as the audience cheered.

“We’re still great friends, the closest…” the young woman said full of innuendos as Jimmy smiled wildly. “You know, I actually didn’t know he was coming to the Cinderella UK premiere till I was ready to leave the hotel.” She told he host. “He was supposed to be on a plane to South Africa, where he had a show the very next day.”

“He surprised you?” Jimmy asked, clearly pleased that the private young actress was opening up, for the very first time, about her very private relationship at his show. “And for those in the audience who doesn’t know, ‘he’ is the One Direction’s heartthrob, Harry Styles.”

The female in the audience went wild to the mere mention of his name.

“He did, I had invited him, because we were in that point of our relationship where we decided to be less secretive, so I was attending every show of his that my schedule allowed, trying to be a supportive girlfriend.” She explained, smiling when thinking about her handsome boyfriend. “At that point so far, his tour schedule hadn’t allowed him to go to my premieres, and then he surprised me, he was waiting for me inside the car, my sister slash assistant helped him.” The audience once again went crazy.

“Is he coming with you tomorrow?”

“He is, he had  last minute suit fitting today, it’s so amazing to be able to bring him with me,”Y/n admitted with a smile. “since the band went in a break, we’ve been able to spend so much time together, no more tour for a while.”

“How long have you guys been together? If you don’t mind me asking?” Jimmy was leaning slightly over the table, his body directed towards her.

“Sometime.”She replied vaguely, with a mysterious smile. “Longer than most people imagine, thats for sure.”

The Jimmy Kimmel Live!, March, 2016.

“Congrats on a very successful Award Season, I think you kind of won every award out there, you won the Academy Award of Best Supportive Actress for Carol, the Golden Globes, Cannes back in May, you just won five Grammy’s for your first album, Y/n Y/l/n I” The host said as soon as they’re both seated. “And, last but not least, congratulations on your marriage.” He gave emphases to the word ‘marriage’. 

In what became a viral moment, Y/n Y/l/n had thanked her husband ‘H’ for being ‘just the most supportive and amazing hubby’

“When did you guys get married?”Kimmel asked. “We see each other all the time, I feel like this is the kind of thing you tell your neighbor.” Jimmy said with a smile. “Am I getting a new neighbor? Are you guys moving out…?Honestly I am kind of hurt I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“Thank you.” Y/n said with a polite. “So, we got married back in December, we are going to England for Christmas with his family, we had got engaged in France during a couple’s vacay, and we didn’t want to wait,” She told him. “The only people there were our parents and sisters, but we’re planning a bigger ceremony sometime this year or the next.”She clarified.

“Will I be invited?”The host asked.

“For sure, you know I adore you, you’re one of my favorite neighbors.” Y/n agreed. 

And it wasn’t as if she was going to say ‘no’ in national television. 

“I know this is something your going to be asked about a lot,” Kimmel continued. “Did you change your last name? Because I feel like Styles is a cool name to have.”

“I did,” She admitted as the audience went wild. “Legally I am Mrs. Harry Styles, but professionally I am still going to be Y/n Y/l/n.”

The Ellen DeGeneres’s Show, Dec, 2016.

“Congratulations.” Ellen said pointing at her belly. “Last time you’re on the show you had just got married, and won a Academy Award for Carol, I wasn’t able to attend your wedding, because you guys decided to get married in Italy…”

“But I send you and Portia your gift basket.” Y/n interrupted, smiling at the memory of their idyllic wedding at their Italian villa back in May.

“And we loved it, thank you, it was very nice of you and Harry.” The host said as a picture of the basket was shown on the screen behind them, Y/n handwritten note for all to see. “So, you won a Oscar, you won five Grammys, you got married, La La Land went amazing in Cannes, and now your having a little baby, I remember the first time you told me about you and Harry, back in 2014, you’re here for a interview about The Hunger Games and he tagged along…”

“You made me play ‘Who’d You Rather?’ and he was in the dressing room having the time of his life…”

“Yeah, well, I was having fun too.” Ellen admitted making the audience laugh. “Back then it was all very secretive, you’re at the beginning of your relationship, so I didn’t ask you how you guys met, but Harry was here later with 1D, and he didn’t get into much detail, but he said you guys were set up on a blind date.”

“Hold up.”Y/n raised her hand. “Did he actually said ‘WE’? Because recollections may vary.” The actress said with humor. “IF memory serves me right, I was basically ambushed into a blind date with him, he actually ASKED our mutual friend to set us up after he found out she knew me, and then my sister in law waited until after we announced we are having a baby to tell me that Harry had a crush on me since 2006, and he basically had a poster of Rosie Lewis, my Disney Channel character, on his childhood bedroom and…”The audience starts to laugh. “Hold on guys, and apparently he told Gem, my sister in law: you don’t believe me now, but we are soul mates, one day I am going to marry that girl.” 

“And you didn’t run for the hill? It’s kinda of creepy.” Ellen said with a funny face that made people laugh.

“It’s…”The actress seemed a little at loss of word in how o defend her husband, but kept a amused smile on her face. “I think is kind of cute, is a little creepy, sure, but it’s nice to know he was crazy about me since forever and that I was his celebrity crush.” She said to the ‘awn’ of the audience. “I mean, I always thought that when it comes to Harry it would be some thirty-something year old cougar.”

 The Late Late Night Show with James Corden, Aug, 2017

 “Oh, My Gosh! This is absolutely disgusting.” Y/n said looking at all the smelly disgusting food in front of her. 

“I know!”James said in pure joy. “You go first. To eat, I’m going to give you a little cod sperm.” He turned the table until he dish was in front of he, he took the card with the questions and laugh. “Y/n, your husband, Harry Styles, was part of one of the world’s biggest boybands, One Direction, list the boys from your favorite to your least favorite, vocally.”

Y/n was silent for a second, only looking at James with half-closed eyes, she speared the cod fish sperm with her fork, lifting i in the air, causing the audience to react.

“There is no way I am eating this.” The artist said, putting it down, she rests her elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers. “I don’t think it is really hard to answer this.” She rested her chin on her fingers, looking defiantly at a shocked James. “My question is: to rank the five boys or minus Zayn?”

“Let’s do it minus Zayn.”The host said. “Are you really going to answer it?”

“I am not eating it. So… H first, I feel that he was the one with the strongest vocals, Niall, because he has this really lovely voice, Liam and then Louis.” She said without getting into detail about the last two.

#

“I’am giving you the bull penis now.” Said James. “Y/n, rank those Harry Styles hair style’s”

The man proceeded to show her three pictures, one of 2011 baby!Harry, in all his preppy glory and curls, 

2015 longhair!Harry and 2017 Dunkirk!Harry.

“I mean…”The artist sighed. “ I love him, he’s my husband, I honestly think he is hot no mater what.” The actress clarified. “That being said, long-hair!Harry was the H I started to date back in 2014, he looked like  such a bad boy but he was actually a pretty shy guy, so soft and caring, I loved that hair, that hair makes me feel things, so I will say that this one is my favorite.”

“I honestly found it disturbing to hear you speaking of him like that.”James said seriously, making the audience laugh. 

“Shush James, this is a serious matter,” Y/n jokingly reprimanded her husband’s friend. “Short hair Harry, which is his Dunkirk haircut by the way, is also very hot, he’s in a suits phase now, with all those silk shirts, and it’s just so very ‘daddy’ you know,” The young woman said admiring her husband’s picture.  “He’s also just so lucky to no longer have that long hair, because Atticus is just in that phase that he is happy to pull things.” She laughed seeing James shaking his head with eyes closed as the audience cheered.

“I honestly will never be able to erase you calling Harry ‘daddy’”

“But he is, we have a son together James, I wasn’t even saying it in a sex tone, so get over it, Harry is a daddy, I call him daddy all the time,” She picked the picture of her husband, showing it to James, “just look at him, he’s such a DILF, who wouldn’t want to call him daddy?” The audience went wild.

The host hided his face behind baby!Harry picture.

“Y/n I don’t need the specifics, just give us the ranking.”

“I don’t want to hurt my husbands feelings about his hair choices, you put yourself in this situation James, you said: do you want to play a really fun game?”Y/n said with a mischievous smile. “It isn’t that funny anymore is it?”She laughs. “Ok, let’s move on. So, baby!harry, he looks cute, I think 2011 Y/n would totally have a crush on him too.”

“So your ranking is 2015 long-hair, 2017 short-hair and baby!Harry?”asked James.

“Yeah.”Y/n agreed, “I honestly would fu** him in all those hairstyles, he’s just so dreamy, you know?”

PART TWO

[violetasteracademic]

Yesterday I came across a Gwynriel comment on a pro-Elriel post that said: “I like Azriel. Which is why I want him to find his mate.”

I’ve always found this Gwynriel/Elucien rhetoric ironic because they’re making it clear they don’t actually like Azriel. Because if they like Azriel, wouldn’t they want him to find LOVE, first and foremost? SJM has mentioned multiple times that a mating bond is not equivalent to romantic love, and yet Gwynriels, especially, only ever argue that they want Azriel to find his mate.

I’ve found that this is the biggest differentiator between Elriels and Gwynriels/Eluciens: Elriels want Az to find happiness. We want him to find LOVE—whether it’s through a mating bond or not. The emphasis is always on LOVE.

To be honest, it took me a really long time to think through this, because I have SO many things to say on the topic! But in the interest of keeping this concise (false when have I ever kept things concise), and addressing this issue head on, we are going to go ahead and say yes, sure, maybe SJM is a "fated mates only" author (even though some of my favorite SJM couples are not mates) and that has no bearing on whether or not Azriel and Elain are still likely to be endgame.

It comes down to active and inactive storylines, as well as facts from the books versus ideas and theories of what could be true.

Throughout her multiverse, Sarah has told the "Fated Mate" story in a variety of ways, and she continues to tackle it in new ways. We have had faked mating bonds, villainous cosmic interference with mating bonds, bonds that were revealed slowly, bonds that snapped quickly, bonds that solidified over oceans before two people even met, two people literally just *deciding* they are mates and making it so, and mating bonds where the pairs were miserable and not well suited, and they lived in misery until they died.

Prythian is the only world in the multiverse where there is even a conversation about the female being able to reject the mating bond. Those are the rules set forth in Prythian. You cannot ignore them. If Elain doesn't want Lucien, she gets to reject him. Them's the rules. This isn't even an *option* or mentioned on the other worlds. Prythian is the only one where, time and time again, we are reminded that there are many unhappily mated pairs. Rhysand's own parents were miserable. So miserable that Cassian thought the mating bond was all lies and bullshit for over 500 years, until Rhys and Feyre, for the first time in his centuries of life, proved him wrong. (ACOFAS, Chapter 2.)

Narratively, Prythian has set up and established a mating bond rejection. No other SJM world has. More than that, Feyre questioned why Lucien and Elain were paired together, and seeing Elain be placed with Lucien even though Feyre thought Elain and Azriel would be a better fit made Feyre realize how lucky she and Rhys were to be mated *and* in love. Directly comparing Elain and Lucien to Feyre and Rhys further proved how special Feysand was.

Then Azriel questions the Cauldron, asking if it could be wrong. (again, the second time this question has been asked in regards to Elain and Lucien specifically.)

Now, in HOFAS, the most up to date publication, that narrative continues as we discover the Asteri pooled their power into the Cauldron to make it serve their will. (HOFAS, Chapter 25) This answered Feyre's question; Who are the powers that decide to force people who don't like each other to be mated and create the most powerful offspring? (the Asteri, because they need to eat their souls for sustenance and gain control of the world) And of course Azriel is the one watching this all unfold and learning this information. Azriel questioning the Cauldron has now been laid out not only in ACOSF, but the last two books Sarah has published. These are the facts that will set up the next book, just as Feysand and Nessian were set up in previous books.

Feyre and Rhys were already tied together in book one. We knew, heading into book two, that Feyre and Rhys had connected. They trusted each other. And while their bargain was not consensual, she chose to go to him when he called through her bond of her own free will, because they had developed a connection. We head into book two knowing exactly where things were headed. She has an interesting/developing relationship with Rhys, and she is guaranteed to see him again. This sets up the "Ordinary World" (I've made a few posts on the hero's journey book structure SJM follows, more on that here) for book two. By the end of ACOTAR, Rhys and Feyre are in an active storyline together that picks up in ACOMAF.

Nesta and Cassian had their entire plot laid out in A Court of Frost and Starlight. Cassian is dealing with Devlon and the struggle to get Illyrian females training. He describes the Blood Rite, and muses on what the one from the upcoming spring will bring. Nesta is in her alcoholic I hate my family era, and Cassian is fighting to get back what occurred between them during the war. The kiss they shared, and the willingness to die together. And they are both fighting like wildfire. By the end of ACOFAS, these are active storylines. Everything discussed about or between them in ACOFAS picks up and comes to pass in ACOSF.

Whether you want them to be together or not, the active storyline in ACOSF and HOFAS is between Elain and Azriel. Questioning the Cauldron, fighting their feelings for each other, and the tension between them escalating was their story in ACOSF. People who argue the bonus chapter ended their story are factually incorrect. Because as of this day, in this year 2024, Azriel's "What if the Cauldron was wrong" storyline CONTINUED in House of Flame and Shadow.

Azriel stood there and learned first hand how the Cauldron had been corrupted and warped by creatures who came to Prythian in search of sustenance, and, as previously mentioned, "pooled their power into the Cauldron so that it would work their will." (HOFAS, Chapter 25) They then "protected their interests" by turning the Cauldron into a killswitch, ensuring it could never be destroyed and that their will could continued to be enacted on Prythian or the world would cease to exist.

So, these are the active storylines when Azriel and Elain wake up in Prythian today (thus setting up the Ordinary World in the three act structure) that expand upon the previous two books:

Elain and Azriel have feeling for each other.

Azriel's feelings for Elain are so strong that he questions the Cauldron, and is willing to fight to the death over it.

Azriel has learned that the Cauldron was completely corrupted and fucked up by an evil species that used to rule over Prythian, and now rules over Midgard, and eats souls by churning them through a "soul meat grinder for food." (HOFAS, Chapter 16)

Azriel has learned that all of the Dread Trove items were created by the Asteri in the Cauldron, the same beings that warped the Cauldron and turned it into a kill switch to ensure power over their world. (HOFAS, Chapter 24) Only the Archeron sisters can wield the Trove, and are protected from it being used against them.

Azriel learned that Truth-Teller and the Starsword were also made in the Cauldron by the Dusk Court ancestors to destroy the Asteri. Currently, only Azriel can wield both Truth-Teller and the Starsword. Elain can also wield Truth-Teller. (Possibly Nesta as well, but Elain used it to travel through shadows while Nesta used it to cut off a head.)

All Cauldron Made items, both for and against the Asteri, are now in possession of the Inner Circle along with the knowledge that they need to discover what they can truly do, and to find the hidden cache's of magic stored in their world.

Elain has stated that she is a member of the Night Court and will do what is needed to serve it.

Elain is reacquainting herself with her powers, and is ready to be used to locate and wield Trove items.

Elain has feelings for Azriel.

Azriel has feelings for Elain.

Here are inactive storylines:

Elain using her sight to deal with Koschei, which is what I understand to be the largest E/ucien theory at play tying Elain to the BoE. Elain has not been involved in the Koschei storyline since ACOWAR, nor does she have an active storyline with Lucien besides shrinking into herself when he is around, not speaking to him, and not liking his presents.

Lucien however, is involved in the Koschei storyline as of ACOSF as it pertains to Vassa. He stares at the sea, as if setting his target on Koschei, (ACOSF, Chapter 7) and is living with Vassa and Jurian. This is what is active for Lucien. Nothing else. Any possible storyline for him outside of this is theory and speculation does not exist yet.

Gwyn does not have an active storyline at the end of ACOSF. "Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library. Gwyn had said she might leave for Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony in three days." (ACOSF, Chapter 80) Her story as a Valkyrie completing the Blood Rite with Nesta has resolved and she has not presently been tied to anything else. Any ideas on how she might have a plot created are theories and speculations, but she is inactive.

Elain and Azriel are both active regarding the Trove, the Star-Sword and Truth-Teller, their feelings for each other, and Azriel is personally so propelled forward in being the Cauldron's number one hater that if a mating bond were to suddenly snap between him and Gwyn in his current headspace, he would not just forget about Elain and the dark damage done to the Cauldron and would likely not entertain the bond without more information.

If Sarah wants to make Azriel and Elain fated mates, she will. She has done everything under the sun with mates and will do more. She can do whatever she wants with magic. But you have to understand that the next book will start, as Sarah always structures it, with the "ordinary world" picking up where the last books left off. And it left off with Azriel and Elain, the fight against the Cauldron, their feelings for each other, and the reveal that all Trove items as well as the Dusk Court and Starborn heir items are now in the Inner Circle's possession, to be wielded by the sisters and Azriel alone.

And yes, as mentioned by @enigmaticexplorer we want Azriel to find love. He already has found it with Elain. Now it's just a matter of if Sarah chooses to make them mates, or if they say to hell with mates because we chose each other. Either option is great in my book!

[descendantsramblings]

i have an idea for Uliana x Fem! reader where the Reader is the leader of another villain group in school who always clashes with Ulaina, its a Enemy to lovers where the Two always try to be better then the other, be it in class, im pranks or torturing students. The other vk's are pretty tired of it

Honestly, I’ve been hoping for a way to bring the other families (Jafar, Gaston, Cruella, Evil Queen) from the OGs into a fic so thank you anon, I love you

Rivalry

Uliana x VK!Witch!Reader

Pronouns used: She/her/hers

Summary: With two crews of VKs, it was only a matter of time before they came together or tore each other to shreds

Warnings: minor swearing, reader is a huge flirt, Uli is pinned against the wall at some point. Once again the reader is kissing Morgie's cheek (he deserves affection and you can't stop me), reader is taller than Uliana and Bridget but she's also wearing heels so take that as you will, the return of "Shrimpy"

Word Count: 2.5K

    When the School of Black Magic closed, it sent Merlin Academy into a new state of chaos. The small set of villains that already existed at the school was bad enough, to double how many there were created a new challenge for all the students. For the heroes, it was more people to dodge. Especially kids like Bridget and Ella. If the new villains knew the originals went after them, then the new kids would double it. The villains from the condemned school demanded to have respect and fear, no matter what it took. Bringing in bigger threats and darker pranks to the halls of the academy. And the villains who ruled the school before them? They were being driven mad by the people trying to take over their turf, it was visible too. Even the heroes could see the insecurity creeping into the small group. As if it poured off of them, their more aggressive yet less detailed actions seeming to be a poor attempt at compensating. Everyone thought they’d become one group after they saw them interact the first time, not expecting the way the two groups would be at each other’s throats. Hook and Gaston were far too prone to butting heads - or more so smacking each other upside the head. And Maleficent and Grimhilde? They were a match made in hell, seeming to go after each other more than they did nonvillains. 

    If you were to ask Uliana though, the worst of them came in the form of (Y/n) (L/n). With her perfect control of her lackeys and carefully thought out plans. If she said jump, the four fools who followed her around would say “how high” in an instant. (Y/n) with a mouth so foul you’d think her a pirate; a sailor's tongue stuck in her skull. With her temper and dark magic. A threat to anyone who came near her. She was more evil than Ursula had been, easily throwing a blanket over Uliana’s cage and smirking at her as the cloak fell. Solidifying herself as a threat the second she turned every male in the school into a dog, nearly doubling the frog debacle the elder sea witch had created. (Y/n) with her perfect hair and thousand mile stare and dark glossed lips. Whose loud music poured from her skull candies and leather jacket hugged her body like a glove. She was all that Uliana could think about now, it drove her crazy. Drove her friends crazy too. If they had to hear about the new girl one more time they were sure that they would snap. Especially Hades, if he had to think about being a doberman ever again he was going back to the underworld to sulk. 

     Watching the way she seemed to coo at Morgie, Uliana’s Morgie, across the courtyard had something bubbling up in her chest. Seeing her soft, manicured hand slide down his arm as she speaks, half lidded eyes trained to his face as she spoke soft and slow. He was clearly hanging onto her words, smiling at her with a nod. Who does she think she is? Why were her hands on part of Uliana’s crew like that? 

     “What is she talking to him about?” Her voice is sharp, eyes glaring daggers into the girl. “Knowing him? He probably asked her to turn him back into a labrador retriever. Speaking of, why did he get a good dog? I was a yorkie, not even a full sized one, one of those little guys with the chirpy barks and the shakes,” Hook grumbles, tapping his nails against the table in front of him. Maleficent lets out a near nasty laugh at the pouting boy, shoving his shoulder softly, “Watching you tremble like that was hilarious. Like your ego didn’t fit into your little body.” She looks him up and down with a smirk, adding on a snarky, “It barely fits in that one already.”  Hades shrugs, closely focused on the way Uliana was staring at the conversation before them. She wasn’t looking at Morgie, there was no way she was. “Maybe it’s because you’re short. What exactly are you looking at, Uli?” 

     “It’s like she’s trying to seduce him,” the words seem to send her into a sense of panic, “You don’t think that’s what’s happening, do you?” Hades laughs, a smirk playing on his face, “Maybe it is. Does that bother you?” Did it bother her? Uliana didn’t think it would. It was the principal of it, wasn’t it? Losing part of her crew to her enemy. So why did the girl sliding her hand down Morgie’s cheek make Uliana see red? Wanting to swing on Morgie for what the girl was doing? What on Earth was happening to her? 

     (Y/n) smiles, placing a kiss on the boy’s cheek before tapping it twice. Uliana could see the dark lipstick mark on his pale flesh as he turned to come back to them, the girl who was speaking to him sliding off her perched spot on the picnic table, seemingly satisfied. Heeled boots making a chilling clacking on the walking stones as she goes, and Uliana was right on her heels. Ignoring the calls from her friends and the slightly hurt “what did I do?” Morgie let out as she goes. Whatever it was that (Y/n) thought she was doing with Uliana’s group needed to be stopped. 

     “What do you think you’re doing?” Uliana’s voice echos off the tunnel like halls of cobble stone as she grabs (Y/n)’s wrist, swinging the taller girl to face her. She hadn’t been this close to her before, that was something that became painfully obvious to her as she got lost in the color of the other villain’s eyes. She didn’t think they would be so pretty up close. “What do you mean? I was just having a little conversation.” It’s a feigned innocence that clashes with the way she was walking the sea witch backwards. Pinning her against the wall with one elbow balanced on either side of her. “Don’t play stupid.” She watches the way the taller girl’s eyes roll in their sockets as she looks down at her. Her eyes flickering to the dark lips that were smirking with a teasing air. They were blotted, tint more gray than black from where she’d kissed the boy’s cheek moments before but there was still a shine to them that caught the light. Something about it was so captivating that she failed to notice the girl talking until her hand came to rest under her chin, tilting her head up. “See, that right there is exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t win over me, Uliana. You’re too distracted.” 

    “I am not distracted,” the girl scoffs, pushing her chest slightly as she tries to seem tough. “Oh you are though, Shrimpy. You wanna kiss me so bad that you look stupid.” The words make her still, mouth falling open and closed as she attempts to find something to defend herself. It seems to light something ablaze in (Y/n), smirk turning into something more primal as she pulls away. Leaving Uliana alone, gaping like a fish in the hallway. 

                                             𓇼🐚☾☼🦪𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

      Luckily, or perhaps purposely, the two didn’t run into each other again for the next two weeks. The next time (Y/n)’s eyes locked with Uliana’s was as she was catching Bridget from behind. Stopping the pink girl from hitting the ground just to throw her back into the chest of the sea witch. “Resulted to just throwing girls to the ground now, have we? I thought you lot would be more evil than that.” It makes Uliana scoff, shoving Bridget off her as she steps up to the other girl’s chest. “Well, it would be a lot easier if someone wasn’t always stepping in my way.” A hand reaches out, brushing her thumb across the bottom of Uliana’s lip. “Can’t handle a little competition, Uli? I thought that would be your thing, with your sister and all.” She huffs, stepping back, the motion sending her into Hook’s chest. “I can handle competition, just not when it's so full of itself.” 

   She lets an arm stretch out, grabbing Bridget and pulling her against her chest. “They’re losing their touch, don’t you think, Princess? Just pushing royals down like kids on the playground.” One could tell the princess was holding her breath from just looking at her, looking up to the villain in fear. “I mean, compared to me blowing up that pretty little potion of yours, getting pushed down seems like a toddler’s work, does it not?” “Can you,” her voice is a squeak as she looks away, “Can you let me go, please?” Her arm unwraps from the girl, Bridget running off while she has the chance. "Seems to me, Bridget there knows which one of us she should fear more.

    “Where are your friends? Scare them off too?” Uliana tries to sound nonchalant, hiding the way that her words stung. Nothing seemed to match the venom of the girl’s spit anymore. She was not losing her touch, she was sure of that. “Personally, I’m evil enough that I don’t need five people to harass one princess. We prefer to split up, covers more ground,” Her grin catches the light in a way that nearly makes her shine, laughing at the sea witch softly, “I see why you need yours though, Shrimpy.”

   “Aye, watch it Lass,” Hook steps in front of Uliana, staring the girl down. “Or what, Hook? You’ll make me?” She laughs, ruffling his hair as she walks past. “You don’t scare me, Captain. That was a cute try though. Really cute try.” He stands, dumbfounded as she walks by, “I do not like that witch.” “Yeah, Hook, I don’t really think she wants us to,” Hades mumbles, watching the nonchalant way the girl sashays to wherever she was headed. What was it about her?

                                            𓇼🐚☾☼🦪𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

       If Uliana was bad about talking about (Y/n), the witch was much worse. Laying across Jafar’s lap with a near whine as she complains about the other group of villains. “I have never had to fight to have someone on my side like this. Doesn’t she realize it’s safer to be in my good graces?” He shrugs, carding a hand through her hair as she rambles on. “Well, why do you care what’s safer for her?” Her body stills, staring up at the boy with her brows furrowed, “What?” He rolls his eyes, head falling against the back of the couch they were lounging on, “Why do you care? Back at Black Magic if someone you wanted on your team didn’t want to be on it, you’d make their life hell. I mean, we all remember the Gothel incident. So why do you care so much about those five?” 

   She shakes her head, arms crossing over her chest, “I don’t care about all five of them. I could care less about that little pirate and sorcerer. They don’t give me anything to gain. A god though? He could be helpful. And if Grim and Maleficent could ever get along it would be lovely to have a pixie that powerful on our side.” Jafar hums, tilting her head up so she has to look at him, “And the sea witch?” She pauses, eyes flickering over his face in search of something. “What are you getting at, Jay?” He smirks, leaning closer to her face, “What do you gain from having the sea witch around?” She hums, staring up at him as she thinks. What did she gain from Uliana? Why did it matter? “I don’t,” she sits up, walking to his door, “I don’t actually know. I just think I want her to want me.” Jafar smirks, following her to stop her from leaving, “You want her to want you? Want you how?” She holds her breath, staring up at him. “You think she’s pretty, don’t you, (Y/n)?” Of course she did. She had eyes, obviously she could tell the girl was pretty, but that doesn’t mean anything, right? 

     “When you think about her wanting you, what do you think about? Do you think about her acting like me and Cruella? Do you want her as your best friend? Or does she act towards you the way that Morgie acts towards her?” He watches her face, hoping for any sort of reaction from his friend. “Or,” he smirks, grabbing her jaw, “Do you think about her kissing you? Having her hang off your pretty little arm?” She could feel the heat rising up her neck to her face, desperate that he wouldn’t be able to see how flustered the idea got her. “What are you getting at?” “I think,” he smirks, pulling away from him and crossing his arms, “I think you can’t treat her like you did Gothel because you have feelings for her.” “As if I’d ever,” she hears how flustered she is in her own words, closing her lips and shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

                                       𓇼🐚☾☼🦪𓇼🐚☾☼🦪

      When she walked into the small cafe the next day, she expected to see Cruella, her eyes scanning over the place twice. Her friend was nowhere to be seen, the only even slightly familiar person being Uliana. The sea witch wrings her hands as she looks around, eyes falling on (Y/n) and she stops. It takes the girl a second to realize what’s happening. God, she’s a dumbass. Jafar and Cruella had set her up, this was some sort of warped blind date. Of course they did. That's what made her like them, they were the most evil people she knew.

    She walks over to the table that Uliana is sitting at, sliding into the seat across from her. “So how did they convince you to show up?” Her eyes flicker up at the girl, brows furrowed, “What?” (Y/n) shakes her head, crossing her arms across her chest, “How did Jafar and Cruella get you here? I was messing with you when I said that shit a few weeks ago, you know?” “What are you talking about? I’m supposed to be meeting Maleficent, she said something about coming with Jafar. Said he had something to tell me,” she smirks at the girl, leaning over the table, “You know, it looks like you might lose him. And Jafar would be a greater loss than Morgie. Seems I’m beating you at your own game.” 

    The girl is trying to look proud but her eyes are once again locked on (Y/n)’s black lipgloss. “Yeah,” she laughs, leaning onto the table on her elbows, “Jafar isn’t coming, Uliana. We got set up.” She pauses, recoiling as she takes in the words. Set up? “What do you mean by that?” “I guess I’m not the only one who thinks you want to kiss me. Our friends set us up here and who knows,” (Y/n) stands up, pulling her wallet from her pocket, “If you’re lucky I might just kiss you. My lipgloss is vanilla flavored you know. I bet you'd like that.” She takes in the flustered look that crosses the sea witch’s face and smirks. Hopefully Jafar didn’t think he could throw her off. She always got her way, he just gave her a little push. Nothing more.

[theweirwoodfiles]

The Weirwood Files: Why Rhaenyra is the Rightful Heir

Subject: A short essay detailing why Rhaenyra is the rightful heir over Aegon. 

This shouldn’t even have to be said, but I am seeing an uptick in team green fans claiming that Aegon was always the rightful heir, as if him being king was not enough for them. I personally believe this argument comes from wanting the greens to have the legal right of way so they have no guilt in supporting Aegon (although even if Aegon DID have the law on his side, there is still sympathy to be had for Rhaenyra being cheated out of inheritance that had been promised to her). Regardless, this write up will compile all the evidence that proves Rhaenyra was the rightful heir and was unlawfully usurped. 

First and foremost, Westeros is an absolute monarchy, which means it is run by one ruler who is not held to the law and is above it. The king has vassals, advisors, council members, but overall there is no power that “checks” the king. This system was put into place by Aegon I Targaryen, and he is described as the “final authority” on all governance in the realm.

Many people refer to this passage below as proof that Westeros is not an absolute monarchy, but notice where it says that Aegon allowed the other lords of the land to rule as they had been and keep their laws intact. However this only occurs because the king decides it so, he is still the final authority on matters, and yes, that includes inheritance matters as well. Inheritance laws do not exist above the king, it is still very much the other way around. 

In addition to the text evidence, we also have George himself confirming Westeros being an absolute monarchy, per this article.

The idea of a woman becoming a monarch while a firstborn son lives has been brought up twice before the dance. Rhaena Targaryen was a potential candidate for the throne despite having a living brother. The throne did not go to her not because it would be illegal to do so, but because she did not press her claim, and allowed it to pass to Jaehaerys. 

Alysanne suggested that Daenerys become queen despite having a living brother, Aemon. Alysanne was one of the most politically competent queens, and if law truly prevented Daenerys being queen over Aemon, she would not suggest it so casually. 

Many cite the Great Council called by Jaehaerys, something that set a precedent for male heirs, as a reason for why Aegon is heir over Rhaenyra. However, the council’s decision was not solidified into law. Precedents can be set, with new precedents contradicting them. Jaehaerys did not have to call a council, and he did not have to abide by it. He merely chose to do so. 

When Viserys made Rhaenyra heir, he called the lords of the land to swear oaths to her in an official ceremony. The titles that belong to the heir of the throne were then bestowed upon Rhaenyra. This was never undone. Rhaenyra was never stripped of her status as heir, not even by Aegon’s birth. Aegon, in turn, is never once referred to as heir within the text. 

In both book and show canon, we can see that this is true. In Fire and Blood, we have a passage that says Alicent and the greens had asked for the succession to be changed, meaning that the succession was set in stone. Aegon was never heir, the greens just wished him to be so. 

In the show, we have Jason Lannister in 1x03 say “--If you were to name Aegon as heir,” once again highlighting that despite being a male firstborn son, Aegon is not automatically heir. The greens would not be asking for the succession to be changed if Aegon was already heir, instead they would be referring to Aegon as heir already and pleading for Viserys to acknowledge this as fact. Once again, while laws, however loose they may be, exist, the king is the final authority in the realm. Viserys had the right to name Rhaenyra as his heir, and he has the right to keep her as heir despite Aegon being born. 

Let’s also not forget Aemond directly stating that Rhaenyra was usurped in 2x01 during his scene with Criston, and Otto’s “is that what you think?” to Aegon when he claimed Viserys wanted him to be king. Aegon was put on the throne not because of the law, but because of the green’s schemes and ambitions. This is also why in the book they do not attempt to claim legality but instead perform a coup and act in secrecy. If Aegon were truly heir all along and only Viserys was denying it, there would be no need for such. 

TL;DR: Rhaenyra is and always was the rightful heir under the law of Westeros and Aegon was a usurper. A water is wet essay but it needed to be said in full.

[evermore-grimoire]

The Evermore Grimoire: Mermaids of the Seven Seas

The Pacific Mermaids are a pod of mermaids who can move with both vigour and grace deep within their home, the Pacific Ocean. Whilst all mermaids can swim exceptionally fast, these mermaids are faster thanks to their beautiful streamlined tails that reflect the vibrant colours of coral that paint the ocean floor. Their power of Hydrokinesis is the perfect match to their eager way of life which also makes them the most open-minded pod of the Seven Seas when it comes to their magic. In fact it was the Pacific Mermaids who joined forces with a coven of witches centuries ago to vanquish a great evil, which the coven of witches gifted them the Book of Tides as a thank you. However this great triumph eventually led to a great downfall that rippled throughout all the pods of the Seven Seas. The last Prince and heir to the throne of the Pacific Mermaids became jealous of his mermaid bride (and future Queen) when the rest of the pod began to admire and listen to her kind words of wisdom more than his own. His jealously only grew when he saw how naturally gifted she was with her powers as well as the magic she created in the Book of Tides. Over time the Prince began to sway other mermen to his way of thinking as he believed that he should be the one that the pod admired and loved the most. His plan was to kill his mermaid bride and use the Book of Tides to solidify his place on the throne, alone. However his bride’s loyal confidantes caught wind of the Prince’s plans and began preparing for the possibility of a civil war within the pod. Little did they know that the rebellious group of mermen had secretly spread the word throughout all the pods of the Seven Seas to usurp all mermaids and the royal families to ensure that the pods would be ruled by mermen alone. The war itself was brutal and bloody, which led to the Book of Tides being lost at sea forever. Members of the royal families throughout the pods of the Seven Seas either sacrificed themselves and their magic or they were killed in an effort to try and win the war. Once the war did come to an end, thanks to the Atlantic Mermaids, all mermen were banished from their pods forever. The Prince from the Pacific Mermaids was imprisoned in a cave in the deepest and most desolate part of the Pacific Ocean for the rest of his life. As for his mermaid bride, well she survived but was left heartbroken at his betrayal and the damaged his jealousy had caused to her beloved world. So she decided to leave the Pacific Mermaids and swim throughout the Seven Seas alone, but it’s believed that she kept watch on the Moon Pool that her pod created to make sure that no male mortal or witch would ever discover their magic and potentially create another war against mermaids.

original artwork by Vlad Stankovic

[triluvial]

There are whispers, stirrings.

There are rumours that Arrakis' control - for so long solidified in the pearlescent hands of the Harkonnen family - was wavering. That the emperor was already seeking out a replacement family.

Their first hint of this was Duke Leto reaching out and flat out telling them that the emperor had offered his family control over Arrakis and the entire imperial spice trade. While the Baron pretended very, very hard that this wasn't information that was blindsiding the entire family, Leto went onto explain that he didn't want to move off of safe, plentiful Caladan while the mother of his children was so, profoundly pregnant. Duke Leto doesn't want to start any shit with the Harkonnens either, so he wants them to hear the truth from him even though "I'm sure you're up to your ears in reports from your network of spies."

There was no network of spies. Who tf would risk their lives for a house that would be twice as likely to kill them themselves? Baron Vladimir successfully pretends otherwise for the rest of the video call.

However, that gives the Baron an idea of how to proceed. They can't trust the Atreides on their words, but they cannot ignore such a serious warning.

However, it would all be too suspicious - if the risk of losing the control of spice was real - for random Geidi Prime natives to show up at the Emperors home. He had a truthsayer, and they couldn't exactly blend into a crowd. But there was a better plan, they would join with a different house, one friendly with the Emperor and be invited alongside them to the Emperor's side. It would be an insult for the Bene Gesserit assistant to the crown to start questioning the staff of a beloved guest.

So Feyd joined a small battalion. Not even as the leader, though he could hear the other men shifting in anxiety whenever he sighed in a specific way over the general's decisions. And they were sent to bring that month's trading products from Pallosan III to Geidi Prime.

Feyd and his team arrive late on purpose. The ruling family had no choice but to offer to let them stay the night. They humbly accept, feigning the quiet servitude that Harkonnen servants are famous for.

Under the cover of darkness, they fake a break in. They fake an assassination attempt. Then the eight, perfectly normal Harkonnen servants fight off the attackers before the citadel's alarms are even raised.

Reader's family is overjoyed. Baron Harkonnen is even more overjoyed to receive and approve their request for the eight 'heroes' to stay on Pallosan Three until the reason and origin of the assassination attempt is found and eliminated. Vladimir is so glad that his people could be of use to such dear, treasured allies, and if his heir had been there Feyd could have probably fought off the assassins single handedly, but it's good that the relatively unskilled fighters managed on their own.

This bolsters the Harkonnen reputation, not only is their noble family incredibly dangerous but even normal servants sent to transport food are more skilled than most family's trained guards.

Feyd knew this would be a long mission. He'd never done anything like this, but a Harkonnen had to be present to make hard decisions and he was the least-recognisable of the three ruling members of the family.

Three weeks later there's a real break in. It probably wasn't an assassination attempt but as he is the only one alive when the guards and royal family come running in after the alarms go off, Feyd can tell whatever story he wants.

Later that day, the youngest princess comes and brings Feyd a drawing of him in thanks. He's monstrously tall, towering over a terrible depiction of the citadel. The sun is black, apparently the only thing the child knew about Geidi Prime.

Feyd looks over the shoulder of the child at where her older sister was standing. Then he feigns being moved by the drawing. He's rewarded by two smiles, one gap-toothed and the other as beautiful as the dawn. He feels his stomach flip awkwardly. He folds up the drawing and puts it inside his armour.

"You made her day, you know." Princess Irulan's closest friend says, sitting next to Feyd as he sharpens his sword later that afternoon. "She's right now bugging our captain of the guards so that he'll teach her swords so she can be a Harkonnen when she grows up."

"Uh..." Feyd manages.

"Of course, that's not how it works, but she's young." She allows, and she's sitting close enough that Feyd can tell her dress isn't just solid blue but actually embroidered in the same colour with shiny silk thread. "You're an amazing warrior, the Baron said only his na-Baron was skilled enough to fight an assassination team alone but you were barely sweating."

Reader runs a hand down his bare arm, as if to demonstrate where the sweat would be. Feyd has had sex with his harpies on his balcony, where any citizen could look up at them. Yet, somehow this makes him feel more exposed.

"I have to leave the citadel tomorrow and I know it's during the time that you normally train but I wanted to ask if you, or some of your friends would accompany me for safety. I cannot order you as you are all just guests here, but with two attempts on my life I am a little frightened." Reader either smooths her dress down, or wipes her sweaty palms on her skirt - Feyd isn't sure which.

"You know my training schedule?" Feyd asks, a grin on his face. He'd never seen her watching him train with his men but from the maroon flush on her cheeks he was now sure that she had.

Reader looks down, embarrassed. And that's when Feyd remembers he is not the Harkonnen heir right now, able to flirt and propose to any highborn woman he sets his heart on. He's a lowly servant and may as well be an earthworm pining after Shai-Hulud.

This is going to end in tears.

He agrees to go.

Ok this was supposed to be a quick idea where Feyd had to pretend to be a commoner while spying on Reader and her family, and Princess Reader fell for him while thinking they could never be together but the uhhhh political thriller explanation for why he was spying got a little out of hand. That's my bad. (also Political powerhouse Reader is maybe my fave trope atm as evidenced by 1, 2, 3 and now 4)

[paystery]

apple white rant because i love ever after high and just reread the first book

it bugs me when people say they hate apple white because i feel like most of the time they don’t actually have an understanding of her character

her whole life she was told that the only way she could ever be happy was if she followed her destiny and signed the book. then she would be safe. the ways she went about it were very much wrong, but in many cases they weren’t really her actions but rather the actions of adults speaking through her.

also, even though she’s in a position of privilege, she has never held any power over her own life. in the books her and raven go on a quest to see what will happen if raven doesn’t sign, but it was manipulated by grimm to ultimately lead to a dead body as proof of their demise. the books do a really good job at showing the fact that she’s genuinely terrified for her life rather than her happy ending. it’s also specified in the books that she doesn’t think raven will actually become evil. she just thinks that raven will poison her and then continue with a life that will satisfy her (an over simplification but still)

a big part of the reason she’s so keen on having her story (outside of the grooming from all of the adults she trusts most) is bc when she was a kid she almost died and it solidified in her that the only danger she wants to face is the kind she knows she can survive, which does pose a threat of harm for others but it helps people understand her character a little bit more

anyway, in the first book she was more than willing to help raven find an alternative ending. insistent that she helped raven find a happy ending along side her before sealing their fates. even though she really wanted the fairytale ending, she broke rules and helped raven. their journey was corrupted by milton, though, and ultimately led to a dead body that claimed to have wished to sign the book.

she still displays selfishness throughout the series, but she’s a complex character and doesn’t deserve to be simmered down to a greedy, selfish, spoiled princess that’s mad because she won’t get a specific happy ending.

also her relationship with briar in the books is so cute

another interesting detail is before raven refused to sign, those not considered royal were called commoners instead of rebels

and it goes into better detail about what people see in the story book of legends and how they react to it

also apple can’t swim. idk if they mention that in the show

im such a freak about this series omg