#ive already taken that into account!
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Ok so
Laptops are just compact PC’s, right?
And a PC is just computer parts in a case…
And custom built PC’s are a very common thing….
What if I… built a PC… inside a briefcase… it should be possible… then I could have a laptop without the downsides of not being able to fix it… I’d get better performance… and I get to fully customize it….
And the best part? I now have a spy computer.
#that’s right fuckers#ima build a spy PC#and it’ll be better then all of y’all’s ‘gaming laptops’#ima add a slot for DVD! why? because I can#and the screen will be secured with screws so I can access the pc parts behind#but what about fire??#fools!#ive already taken that into account!#I’ll find the perfect briefcase#and remove the soft fabric interior!#I’ll engineer it in a way for plenty of airflow!#and if I can’t use fans#I’ll use water cooling#I don’t give a fuck if it’s stupid#I need this#I need my spy computer#shitpost#computer#spy computer go brrrr
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How tf do people come up with usernames/stage names
#i keep trying to find something for my cosplay account#cause as much as I love Krakoa#when said aloud it sounds like “Crack Ho”#and now that im acrually entering contests and meeting people irl i want something better#but anything i come up with is hard for people to pronounce/spell#i just need to be able to say something easy when people flag me down and ask for my instagram#(i dont ever use it but they want to tag me in the pictures so ...)#i have come up with a few that ive really liked#but they were already taken#which sucks cause rainy day cosplay sounds so cool
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gmail is the chrome of email providers you use it if you value convenience over privacy, and everyone who gives a microshit about privacy is begging you not to use it
Since your name is electronicmail, you must be the authority on all things designated electronic "e" mail. Therefore I am shocked and disappointed that you don't have an email provider ranking list. How am else am I supposed to know whether hotmail is superior to gmail?
baby its AOL
#ramble#i have two active gmail addresses for spam and stuff but they definitely have too much info about me#also still have my old incredibly enshittified web.de account because unfortunately thats what ive used for professional and personal shit#gonna try slowly migrating to proton i think but the coolest handles are already taken
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The Softest Launch (LN4)
Summary: He tried to be secret, but the eyes never lie.
Warnings: NOTHINGGGG language tho
Note: it was lance’s launch that sent me into this spiral
landonorris it was a good race ❤️
Comments:
mclarenfan22 YO WHO TF IS HE LOOKIN AT
- oscarandlando4ever carlos?
- mclarenfan22 idk abt that one girl
Lando-my-love i refuse to believe he has a girlfriend
- ln4andop81 the red heart is saying something else
oscarpiastri congrats on the podium man!
- mclarennnn what do you know.
- mclarensgirl oscar. spill it.
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landonorris fun day on the karting track! 🏎️
Comments:
ln4andop81 MAX IS IN ITALY WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND AND OSCAR IS OFF DOING PR IN LONDON WHO TF IS THIS.
- oscarandlando4ever we cant even fall back on carlos bc he is with charles at ferrari hq in italy as well
- Lando-my-love guys… i fear this is a soft launch
- mclarenfan22 DONT SAY THAT.
oscarpiastri tell her i said hi!
- mclarensgirlll HER????? PASTRY TELL US WHATS GOING ON
- landonorris will do!!
- mclarennn if this is his soft launch, i. will. cry.
——
lando.jpg she’s learning 💋
Comments:
mclarennn WHO?????
ln4andop81 I CANT TAKE THIS ANYMORE
danielricciardo i still can’t believe you let her handle your camera
- landonorris ive given her other things that are delicate too
- danielricciardo shes made you a ball of mush
- landonorris a ball of love
- mclarensgirlll i have never been speechless before until rn
- mclarenfan22 GIVEN HER OTHER THINGS THAT ARE DELICATE TOO???? AS IN HIS HEART???? IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY ALREADY AND HE HASNT EVEN OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED IT YET 😭😭😭
oscarandlando4ever hes soft launching her so well and so gently i cant im crying you can tell this one is different i think hes in love guys
Liked by landonorris
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maxverstappen 📸 creds -> lando’s “friend”
Comments:
landonorris i said say friend not “friend” ‼️
- mclarensgirlll BYE MAX IS TRYING TO HELP US OUT
- maxverstappen i think the soft launch is over mate
- ln4andop81 PLZ LET IT BE OMFG MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT ANYMORE
kellypicquet and lando said she was bad at taking pics 💀
- ynnnn idek where he got that from i literally have taken his insta pics for years
- Lando-my-love WHO IS ynnnn IS THAT HER???
- mclarenfan22 her account is priv but I THINK IT IS ALSO YEARS???? SHES BEEN TAKING HIS PICS FOR YEARS????
- oscarandlando4ever BRUH IF WE MISSED THIS RELATIONSHIP THIS WHOLE TIME IM THROWING MYSELF IN A WALL
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landonorris I’m going to try and keep this as brief as possible because Y/n is incredibly special to me and I would like to keep the best parts of her to myself, but, yes, I do have a girlfriend. As you can probably gather, her name is Y/n and she’s been my lifeline for the past 5 years. I know this picture doesn’t really do justice to how she looks or how we are as a couple, but I’ve found that I would like to keep it that way. She’s someone I hold very close to my heart and keeping the quiet, intimate moments just for us is a high priority for me. All I ask from all of you is that you treat her with the kindness she deserves and don’t bombard her on social media. I’ve kept her away from the spotlight for a long time and have only made her presence known because keeping her a secret seemed worse than letting the F1 world into that part of my life. I’m glad you’ve gotten to meet my love. I plan on spending the rest of my life with her. Xx
Comments have been disabled on this post.
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TWITTER
mclarensgirlll YALL SEEN THE INTERVIEW WITH LANDO????????? BRO IM CRYING HES SO CUTE
- ln4andop81 reporter: “were you nervous to let everyone know about her?” Lando: “well, the drivers, my friends, and family all knew i had met someone because apparently, according to them, i had a different look in my eyes. So, announcing it to them wasnt that nerve racking because they already knew, but, to the public, yeah, I was nervous. More nervous than she was.” Reporter: “so she was nervous?” Lando: “only because she thought no one was going to like her which is and was absurd. She’s the greatest human being I’ve ever met. There’s genuinely no scenario I could think of that someone would end up even slightly disliking her.” BRO.
- Lando-my-love AND THE WAY HE TALKED ABT FIRST SEEING HER 😫😫 “it was like my eyes were glued to her. I guess i was just so in shock someone could be that beautiful and, sometimes, i still am.”
- mclarenfan22 DONT GET ME STARTED ON HIS PROTECTION OF HER BYE “well, she’s just so perfect to me. The world I live in can be ruthless and unfair and messy, all the things she isn’t. I love her that way. I love her for that. She’s my quiet place I can go to when my job and lifestyle get to be too much. She’s like a time out and we both agreed we want to keep it that way.”
- oscarandlando4ever PLZ THE WAY OSCAR EXPOSED HIM TOO “when she’s around, Lando is so much more tolerable. She can calm him in a way I have never seen before. In fact, the engineers and I all agreed around a year ago that she needed to start coming to races because he was always a hot head if it didn’t go well. When we found a way to sneak her in and she did start attending events, he actually started to breathe if things didn’t go his way.”
- mclarensgirlll AND THEN THE WAY LANDO ENDED THE INTERVIEW WITH “But anyways, i could talk about her for hours, something i told myself i wouldn’t do. I’m in love with her and I just hope people understand we want to be left alone for a while. Just until we get married.” CRYING BC I THINK HES RLLY OFF THE MARKET THIS TIME
- oscarpiastri i know all of you want me to “spill” but really all i can tell you is that, yes, norizz officially rizzed his perfect girl and, yes, he is really off the market this time.
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#mclaren#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris edit#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#kelly piquet#max fewtrell
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holy- THE MAX WEED FIC MIGHT BE THE HOTTEST F1 PIECE IVE READ SO FAR OML PLEASE MORE DRUNK FILTHY SEX WITH MAX I BEG YOU!! or hear me out his rival (who already is into max but refuses to admit it) accidentally takes an aphrodisiac and she’s forced to beg and grind on max for his help!! size kink please with those huge thighs and hands of his ❤️❤️
oh my god thank you!!! i wasn't too sure how people would like intoxicated fics! i know that most write it with liquor, but if you've had sex while stoned, it's a nicer feeling. anyway, i'm really fucking with this idea so! i hope you enjoy!
and for those out there on the internet, send me your ideas! i love ideas to be shared and written!!!! send me your smutty ideas! i want em!!!
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, aphrodisiacs, begging/whining, size kink, praise kink, non-penetrative sex, driver!reader, recreational drug use (weed), enthusiastic consent, thigh riding, clothed sex, max being a good rival/lover
"i think i should cutting these up for you, schat." he said as he cut the bag open for you. nothing too spectacular on, just four pieces of chocolate, "so this was their response to not having weed." he picked up a piece and eyed it in the light of the kitchen.
most drivers had their vices, many indulged in the bitter nectar of alcohol. others enjoyed the private company of certain individuals, which left heavy stacks of money on nightstands and tucked into bank accounts. a small portion got their kicks from substances that went harder.
you remembered having to sit in a meeting with max when you first started in formula one about the dangers of illicit drugs. as if most of the retired drivers didn't have their brains re-altered by the likes of cocaine.
but this wasn't canada, or certain parts of the united states or even amsterdam. you couldn't just freely by your fix, weed, so you had to get creative. but someone with as much money as you, with that much influence in a city like monte carlo allowed you to get what you needed.
it may not be marijuana on paper, but it would do the trick on a saturday night during summer break.
"you don't think i can handle it?' you asked as you rested your chin against your hand with your elbow on the counter. you sighed, "you think so poorly of me, verstappen?"
he sighed, "no, i just don't want you passed out on my couch. the point is to have fun, not get wasted." he said but before he could grab a knife to cut it half for you, you had taken a piece of it and ate it down. max looked at you and put the knife back in the drawer, "you know, fine. fine, fine, fine. let's see how this goes, schat."
it was almost a dare and made you sit up a little more, you made a face at him, "what? i'm a big girl, i can handle a little drugs."
he drummed his fingers against the counter top and stuck out his bottom lip as he made a face back at you. his other hand was on his hip as he said, "like you could handle all that vodka in austria in twenty-nineteen. or when you out smoked me that weekend in amsterdam and i had to stay in your hotel room because you were going to cry if i left."
"ya know, verstappen. i don't like how i'm being spoken to."
he sighed, he went around the counter and kissed you on the cheek, "grab your bottle of water, you're going to need it." max knew, underneath it all, you carried a soft spot for him. he did for you as well, but he was a little more open about it. you had protected your soft underbelly when it came to him, while he held his arms open for you.
the feelings didn't start until an hour after you took it.
there was some movie on, but you weren't paying much attention. you were cuddled up against him. his arm was around your shoulders and kept you closed to him. you could feel the tingle in your feet and up your legs.
you made a small moaning noise with your nose in the side of his neck, right up against his hair. your hand was spread across the broadness of his chest.
your clenched onto his shirt and shakily exhaled as it start to really hit. everything felt gooey in your brain as you rubbed up against him. usually when you took part in illicit fun, you just got hungry or sleepy. but not this, something swirled in your gut.
"max." you said out of breath.
he pulled you closer to him and looked at you, "yes, schat? aw, was it all too much for you?" he cupped the back of your head and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.
you whined against the kiss as you felt the heat run through your body. you felt hot all over, your knew your face must feel so hot. when you pulled away, you swallowed, "i'm.. i'm really turned on."
he chuckled, oh this was perfect. he rubbed the back of your head, those blue eyes enchanted you. this guy really was going tire-to-tire with you almost every weekend. that excited you.
you've thought about the sight of him in that driving suit, the stupid kits red bull puts him in. even now in a white t-shirt, and sweatpants after a nice dinner, you thought about what was under there.
"shit."
he chuckled then reached over to grab your metal water bottle. he opened it for you and gave you some. you drank it down heavily before he laughed once more. he put the bottle down and asked, "how are you feeling?"
"hot all over." you said, "i need you to fuck me."
he said, "i don't think i can. you're too high." he tucked hair behind your ear, but his eyes went wide as you got on either side of his thick thigh. he looked up at you and said, "schat, i need your word. are you okay to do this?"
you nodded as you gripped onto his shoulders, "yeah, yeah. i'll do all the work. nothing serious." even through the layers of clothes, you felt the stimulation across your clit. you could feel the blood rush in your ears.
your dug your nails into the meat of his shoulders, through the t-shirt he wore. you shakily exhaled, "i can see why everyone obsesses over your thighs." you then grabbed his hand and pressed your palm against his, "i didn't realize how big your hands were either." you giggled, "they're like bear paws." then pressed his hand against your heated cheek.
"they're not that big."
you nodded as you moved against him, your clothed cunt felt stimulated by the movements you made. plus his hands on you made you more turned on. your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "they so are, they're like big paws. big bear paws." you giggled as you squirmed against him.
max looked away from you for a moment and sighed deeply to compose himself. in all fairness he wanted to sink his teeth into you. he wanted to fold you in half and fuck you until no words could leave your mouth. but he couldn't not while you were like this, even when he said yes. he wanted to make sure that you were sober when he did that.
"why can't you fuck me, max? i've been such a good girl! i almost beat you in belgium, that should make you fuck me." you whined, you stuck out your bottom lip with your hips still grinding against his thigh.
he cupped your behind and kept his nose against your, he sighed, "i'd love to, beautiful." he said, "but, you're not in the right mindset. i know we're rivals. but, i could never hurt you." it was the god's honest truth.
"no fair!" you whined.
"if you need to get off again after this, you can feel free to... pleasure yourself." he said, the words got caught in his throat. he could feel the blush up to his ears at the sight of you grinding against his thigh.
you nodded and held onto him as you continued to rub against him. you panted wildly and you were louder than usual. nromally you were rather quiet, but while high you were pitifully loud. you kissed him on the jaw and said, "next time i wanna feel that nose of yours against my pussy."
he exhaled deeply, his heartbeat staggered, holy shit. your dirty talk was making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. he held onto you and let you continue to rut against him like a little puppy.
"aw, ya like that, max?" you asked softly.
he chuckled, "i have to say, usually you're more subtle. i didn't know that you liked my body so much."
you looked at him and said, "max, are you fucking kidding me? have you seen yourself. the first time i ever saw you without your shirt on, i almost came!" this was something you'd never admit sober, "big ol' hands, big ol' thighs, big ol' nose. all leads to one thing." you jabbed your finger in his chest, "and i know the answer to that!"
if this was a dream that max was going to wake up from, he was going to wish he was dead. but as he clenched onto your hips and let you set your own pace, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.
usually giving him a compliment was like having your teeth pulled. but right at that moment, your tongue was loose as you chased that orgasmic high you needed.
"just keep going." he panted, trying to keep himself together. and that you did, rubbing yourself raw against him.
you eventually hissed through your teeth as you climaxed in your panties. you wanted to cover your face from the rush through your system. you felt the sweat on your neck as you slowed down. you let out a few stray moans before you slowed down enough to a stop.
"holy shit." you panted as you rested your face against his shoulder. your fingers held onto the front of his shirt as you felt the aftershocks in your body.
he rubbed your back, "how are you feeling?" his cock was painfully erect in his sweatpants, but he wasn't going to try it push it further. not while you were in this state. he'd rather a painful erection then you getting hurt.
you pulled away and looked him in the eyes, your eyes were rimmed red as you nodded, "perfect, excellent, amazing. do..do you have any snacks in the fridge?"
he chuckled. you were painfully cute like this, all snuggled up with him. he knew come the next race you'd be getting in his face and challenging him at every turn. but at that moment, with you high as a kite both of the chocolate and sexual bliss. he ran his fingers through your hair and looked at your cute face. he said to you, "why don't you just lie down and i'll see what i have."
you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. you kissed him on the cheek, "you're a life saver, max!"
-
you woke up the next morning with a headache. it was a deep throb like a hangover but it still made you wince if you focused on it too much. you rolled over, away from the streaming sunlight and into max's arms.
"why did you let me take a whole piece?"
he moved his face closer to you and exhaled deeply, "because you're the most stubborn woman i've ever met." he pulled you closer to him, "give me five more minutes and i'll get you something for your head."
you pressed a kiss on his jaw. maybe he wasn't a total nightmare to be around. underneath the mask (or helmet) he wore, he was a caring man who wanted what was best for you. he even made you breakfast afterwards, but don't mistake it all for pure kindness.
come the dutch grand prix after the break, you two were going to go back to wanting to maul one another (and not sexually) <3
#bunny writes#bunny requests#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#f1 smut#f1 rpf#f1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max smut#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1#mv#mv33 smut#mv1 smut
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i respect the commitment to the bit
it may have started as a bit but i believe ive lost myself in it i enjoy horses now more than ever before except when i was six years old and my friend told me that that very night she was visited by a magical horse named thunder who came down from the sky and took her to bella sara the horse game website and she said the following night i should go with her and i took everything extremely literally and believed everyone ever at that age so that night i asked my mom to help me pick out clothes to wear before going to bed so i would have a nice outfit to go to bella sara land in and she said no go to bed and i said please i must go tonight to bella sara land what if the horses show up and im not waiting for them and theyre sad and she said the horses are not going to take you to bella sara in the middle of the night that was definitely either a dream your friend had or a total lie spoiler alert that night and all the nights that followed i was not taken by the horses to go to bella sara but spent the next few months saying they visited me so that i felt included as many other girls started to say they were also visited by the bella sara horses and taken to bella sara land and i believed them too and felt extremely left out but also plagued by guilt and anxiety for lying so im not sure if it was worth it in the long run
but yeah i like horses quite a lot and i have a lot more horse items now than before i started this account which signifies the transformation of a bit to reality though i cant collect horse items as i already collect jfk items
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Arrowhead Jr ||One Shot
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!
Summary: Daryl has baby fever
This was a request on my old blog: "ever since i saw daryl holding baby judith ive dreamt about him having absolute baby fever w reader and after babysitting him pestering reader about one?"
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Profanity, birth, babies, mostly fluffy
"Check this out." Daryl said excitedly, holding up a camo onesie he found. You were on a small run with a few others in search of some new clothes for little Judith, since she had outgrown most of the ones she had.
"This is for newborns." You told him, taking the tiny outfit out of his hands.
"I know.." He shrugged, taking it back and setting it down.
"Oh, god. Don't start." You begged. "Not again."
You had been with him since the prison, after Woodbury fell. You were one of the many refugees Rick had taken in after the town fell apart, and the archer took a liking to you from the beginning. You guessed it was partially due to your friendship with his morally-gray brother before his unfortunate passing, but it was mostly just because you were you. He loved you for it. However, recently, with the safety of Alexandria's walls, he somehow caught one of the scariest diseases; Baby Fever. Especially after the two of you spent a day watching her so Rick could work and Carl could go do normal teenager things for a change.
"Not startin' nothin." He mumbled.
"No, but you're doing that thing again!" You argued.
"What?" He shrugged.
"That! The sad face and the--"
"That place is perfect." He explained. "The--"
"I know, I know. The big walls and the pretty houses and the people and the--"
"I see you with Judith. I see how you look at her, how you rub her nose to get her to fall asleep and all them lil songs ya sing when she cries."
"So what are you saying?"
"Just that we could." He admitted.
"Just 'cause we could doesn't mean we should." You sighed
"I know that, it's just... I wanna."
"Well that's easy to say when you don't have to carry and birth a child to get one."
"Forget it." He huffed.
The rest of the trip was in silence, and not the comfortable kind you so often shared. You were both frustrated. Him, because ever since he held Judith for the first time, when he fed her that first meal she ever had and felt the rush of nurturing a crying, sweet little baby, a hole formed inside him and it grew bigger every day. He never could have seen himself as a family man before that moment, but ever since, it was a primal urge he couldn't resist. To love a woman, to father a child, to protect and provide for his own family. He had already achieved finding a woman worth his affections, which was you, of course, but he still didn't have his own family and it ate him up.
Your frustrations were sourced elsewhere, though. For one, giving birth sounded absolutely terrifying, especially in a world lacking in hospitals, epidurals, prenatal and postpartum care. You could handle a fair amount of pain, but birth was an entirely different playing field. Not to mention the risks. You had heard what happened to Judith's mom. How could you risk that? How could he expect you to? And that was just the tip of the iceberg. What kind of world would this be for a child? What kind of life would it have? Alexandria was always too good to be true, and sooner or later something would happen, and you'd all be running for your lives again. It was only a matter of time, to you. To be pregnant would mean no more runs, no more fighting, none of the things that made you useful. You'd just be a big burden with swollen ankles.
You didn't speak when you all arrived back home, or during dinner, or after. It wasn't until you went to take a shower, until you had already stripped down and stepped into the steamy stream of water. He had silently snuck into the bathroom, undressed, and surprised you by pulling the curtain aside and joined you. You had your back turned to him, allowing the water to rush over you and wash away your racing thoughts. He grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it in his hands until he was satisfied, then he began to wash you. You loved when he did that, it was one of your favorite affections he'd show. He always started by massaging your neck and shoulders, then your back, then your arms, and he'd turn you around and work on the front. With little explanation needed, that was his favorite part.
"Can we at least think about it?" He finally asked, eyes and hands stationed on your bare skin as you watched his face.
"We can think about it all we want but it doesn't change anything."
"But this place is safe. And there's a doctor here. And-- Hell, this house alone is more than either of us could've given a kid before the world turned to shit." He argued. You sighed.
"I just can't shake the feeling that none of this is permanent." You confessed. He stopped washing you for a moment, considering your concerns.
"What else?" He asked.
"What else what?"
"The other reasons. What else?"
"This place could fall."
"Don't mean it will."
"The doctor could die."
"I'll make sure he don't."
"There could be complications."
"That's what the doctor's for."
"I can't help on runs or fight or--"
"Got plenty of people that can do that."
You took a breath. Was he gonna have a rebuttal to each argument you made?
"Well," you said, "pregnancy makes us crazy."
"You're already crazy." He smirked. You rolled your eyes.
"What about medicine? Epidural? You need and anesthesiologist for that and we don't have that which means I'll feel everything and it's gonna hurt!" You rambled. His smirk grew into an amused grin. "What?" You scoffed.
"You're scared." He said.
"So what if I am? I should be. You should be. I could die. The baby could die. It could die down the line when we can't protect it--"
"Now you just insult me. I'd never let a damn thing happen to you or that kid." He snapped. You gritted your teeth together.
"You can't control everything. What about childbirth? Women died during birth when there were teams of doctors and surgeons. What about now?"
"You wont." He shook his head.
"Why would you want a baby with me anyways?" You groaned. "I don't even like kids!"
"Now that's just lyin' to yourself, darlin'."
"Is not!"
"Might've been able to convince me if you never let me see you with Lil Ass Kicker, but you're a natural."
"Jesus. Are you gonna give our baby weird nicknames too?" You asked as the two of you switched sides in the shower so you could was him too.
"Our baby?" He repeated. You eyes widened.
"Hypothetically." You corrected. "Our maybe, hypothetical, improbable baby."
"Nah, I was thinkin' Arrowhead Jr for ours."
You couldn't help it, you laughed.
"You're insane." You shook your head, massaging his shoulder with the suds.
"Look," he sighed. "I'm not gettin' any younger and I want a family. I already got the girl, now I need the girl to have my babies."
"Babies?!" You gawked. "How many do you expect me to have? I'm not a damn fetus factory I can't just spread my legs and pop them out on a fucking conveyor belt."
"I was thinkin' two."
"Two." You repeated, hoping that hearing the word from someone else would wake him up, maybe make him understand how ludicrous he sounded.
"Mhm."
Guess not.
"Two!" You said again. "Two babies that you want me to grow and birth."
"Yep."
"Do you know what you're asking me to do?"
"Yeah." He said, turning around to face you. "I'm askin' you to be the mother of my kids and spend the rest of your life with me."
"Um, the rest of your life. Women live longer than men, statistically speaking."
"Then think about it. Make the rest of my life mean somethin'."
"Ugh." You growled. You really weren't going to win this one, no matter how hard you fought. "If you wanted kids so bad why didn't you find someone who had the same goal?"
"Don't want no one else. Just you."
"And a kid."
"Two kids."
"Let's start with one." You relented.
He grabbed your face as soon as you spoke the words and kissed you excitedly.
"Better start workin' on it then." He said, lifting you off the ground and pressing your back to the wall. Things only got steamier from there, and not because of the hot shower.
----
"Shit!" You whispered, staring down at the third test you'd taken. "Shit shit shit shit!"
To say it was panic would be an understatement. It was sheer terror. You guessed you knew this was coming but you weren't ready for it yet. The only solace you found was the fact that Daryl would be home soon, and you'd get to see his face light up when you handed him not one, not two, but three positive pregnancy tests.
He came home shortly after you wiped your tears and pulled yourself together. You were in the kitchen making him a pot of coffee, one that you'd usually share. Yet another thing you wouldn't be able to do for the next nine months.
You heard the door open, you heard him kick his boots off and set them by the door, and you heard him greet you as he entered the kitchen.
"Hey." He said casually as you turned to hand him a steamy mug of black coffee, just how he liked it.
"Hey." You replied, sitting down at the table across from where he took his usual seat. He gave you a weird look when he sat down. He could read you like an open book, and there was very obviously something going on with you that day.
"No coffee?" He asked, taking a sip of his own. You shook your head. "You okay?" You shrugged. "Talk to me." He said.
You decided to let him see for himself as you failed to form the words. You were terrified for a lot of reasons, but most of all your pride wouldn't let you say the words, because as much as you hated to admit it, you were also happy. You were happy to make him happy, and you were excited to have someone else to love.
You reached in your pocket and set the first test on the table. He stopped blowing on his coffee and stared at it for a moment before looking back to you. Then, you set the second one down. He pushed his eyebrows together, either out of confusion or shock, you weren't sure. Then you slapped the third test down beside the first two. He set his coffee down and stood, leaning over them to examine them. You realized he probably didn't know what a single line versus a double line meant, so you gave him a second to read the tests before he reacted.
The second it hit him it showed. His head snapped up at you, eyes wide.
"F'real?" He asked quietly. You nodded once and he rushed over to your side, gripping your cheeks between his hands and kissing you over and over and over. You couldn't help but chuckle as you tried to push him back.
"Oxygen, Daryl!" You giggled. "The baby needs to breathe!"
"C'mon. We gotta go tell Carol. And Rick. And Glenn. And Maggie." He rambled on and on, adding names as they popped in his head while he pulled you to your feet and ushered you to the door.
"Daryl!" You protested. "Wait I need shoes!"
---
You could barely hear Carol as she coached you through pushing with each contraction. The pain was insane and Daryl's hand was probably broken after you had been squeezing it so hard. Denise, the new doctor after Rick may or may not have killed the last one, was also talking you through, sending encouraging words as the baby's head made an entrance.
"Okay. Breathe. Breathe. One more big push." Carol cooed to your right as Daryl encouraged you from the left.
"C'mon, (Y/N), you're kickin' ass." He said. Admittedly he spent most of the time it took you to get to this point silent, shock written all over his face. He had no idea how to help you through this, he realized, but he fed off Carol's energy and began to give small words of encouragement when he heard Denise say she could see the baby's head.
When the next contraction hit, you screamed in agony, pushing with all your might, just like Carol told you.
"It's just like doing a sit up."
You could feel when the baby was out, but you were so exhausted your head just fell back on the pillow as you caught your breath. It wasn't until you heard the baby cry that you looked down at Denise to see her wiping the baby clean and wrapping it in a blanket. She walked over and set the baby down on your chest. "Skin to skin contact is important." She told you, before looking over to Daryl. "For you too, if you want to take your shirt off."
Daryl was too stunned, just watching in awe as you stared down at your crying newborn baby with admiration. It took him a minute, and a little nudge from Carol who had walked over to his side, before he snapped out of it and leaned in close to you. He got a good look at the baby before he asked, "Boy or girl?"
"Boy." Denise smiled. She was ecstatic, having successfully aided in the birth of your child.
"We have a son." Daryl laughed, although it was more of a happy cry. He wiped a tear from his eye as he stood up and removed his shirt, holding his arms out in hopes you'd let him hold his boy.
"Yeah, we do." You grinned, giving your baby a kiss on the head before you passed him over to his father. Daryl was breathless as he scooped the infant into his arms, bouncing him and whispering sweet nothings.
"Hey, little Arrowhead." He laughed. He had called him that for the entire pregnancy.
"I was thinking about naming him (name of your choice). What do you think?" You asked.
He nodded and kissed little (baby name).
"Hey, (baby name). I'm your daddy."
#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl twd#daryl x female reader
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LOCKED AND LOADED [Yandere!Wanderer x Reader]
Prompt: The world is about to end. How will you grieve when you're forced to be with a miserable man until the last second? [Dedicated To: @mixed-kester for the Alone Together Event]
Content Tags: yandere!scaramouche "fluff" oneshot (yes, there are no other parts:]), major persona 3 spoilers but you DON’T need to know the game before reading this since everything is explained, improper use of a S.E.E.S evoker /j, Scaramouche is so normal about you, UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, major character death/s–
V. Acceptance.
"Where the hell are you, (Y/n)?"
Standing near what should have been the front doors of his university was a short man with dark purple hair. He leaned precariously against them, his head tilted upward as if the sickly green moon's ominous pull was nothing to be afraid of. Gekkoukan University's nearby dorms– fraternity and sorority houses included– are not usually this silent. Instead of people, coffins were aligned perpendicular to the ground.
The wanderer glanced at his watch with mild interest. He had been waiting for a while now. Your guest hoisted himself up, circling the ground with the tip of his shoe. The baseline of his attitude had always defaulted to irritability and passive-aggressiveness. The vertically aligned hour-and-minute hands do not placate it. The timing itself makes it worse.
It's December 31st, 2009, 12 AM– the Dark Hour.
With a harsh sneer, he pocketed his hands. You usually have the door to the Velvet Room open to him whenever. What's the big deal? Were you seriously THAT mad at him? Really? He didn't do anything to warrant this "pettiness". He had never known silence as much as this moment.
You should've accounted for the hostility that proceeds on the "off-chance" he did arrive early.
His tone darkened, his bloodied hands gripping his S.E.E.S evoker tightly.
"If you don’t show up, I will cleanse the world of human emotion all by myself"
You shook from afar, afraid of how he wouldn't hesitate to make his threat a reality. He had already taken so much– you were beyond mad at him. You were terrified. Wronged. Abused. You didn't want to step into the light. Much worse, step into his shadow.
The worst thing evil can do is to turn you into one of them.
He clutched the bloodied yellow scarf in his hands tightly.
Why did this happen?
How did things END up like this?
IV. Depression.
You took a deep breath and charged forward.
You don't trust [Wanderer] ever since Ryoji told him about the impending apocalypse.
Seldom do you leave the Velvet Room. You weren't hiding in the Velvet room months before the end of the world was imminent. When April had only reached its fourth day, there was nothing you wanted more than to spend time outside. So ignominiously innocent. You did not know who [Wanderer] was and how much effect he would have on your life at the time. You were just tired of the ongoing stream of uneventfulness.
And now here you are, berating the protagonist in full.
"[Wanderer], why is Ryoji missing?! US ATTENDANTS CAN'T FIND TRACK HIM ANYWHERE!!!"
With a fistful of his university uniform, you yanked him by the collar. Your eyes were livid as you reeled your composure. This wasn't what you had in mind when you were "isekai"d into a video game. Out of any game, why did it have to be Persona 3? And out of anyone that could be a protagonist, why did it have to be HIM?!
You thought this would be a grand affair... Whatever they spun in anime back when your reality existed were pure lies. Where are the scenic views? The mountains? The grasslands? This plane of existence you're forced to sit through for eternity was far from the RPG fantasy people would hope for. No closer you could ever be to paradise.
In fact, this man is threatening to ruin said paradise.
[Wanderer] pulled your hands away forcefully. His glare was not that different from yours. "Why do you care about him so much?"
"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it's because his death means forgetting everything?!" You clenched your empty fists. "You know damn well what happens if he dies! You'll lose all the help you can get to stopping the Fall!"
Such a heavy weight on your shoulders but the protagonist doesn't care. This may be a turn-based game– but it wasn't based on you. If it was, you wouldn't be screaming your heart out at him! You wouldn't be an NPC. Hell, you'd probably be a better protagonist than him.
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed every stress out of your system.
"Listen—" You rubbed your temple. "You need to start forming bonds. Social links. Support system. Confidants. Whatever you want to call it. You were supposed to have the answer by now as to what life is for."
[Wanderer] remained silent throughout your spiels. His facial expression alone was enough to infer immense disinterest. You were mindlessly doing your job. There will be no tirade or physical aggression that can convince him that you believe in your assertions with full conviction.
"Do you want to see him?"
"Yes! Of course. Knowing you, you're—"
"Tempted to kill him because you think I want the world to end?"
"Obviously."
That's where you're wrong.
A nihilistic man can have other reasons to commit murder.
"But if he's missing, you can forget about him, right?"
"What on earth are you talking about?!"
[Wanderer] turned around. "Meet me later, you know the time."
"I'll show you where Ryoji is."
III. Bargaining.
XX/09/2009
He doesn't recall the time he was brought into this world like you had.
Puppets are malleable. Memories are easy to overwrite when your body is held together by white wood and "khemia". His past evades him.
Maybe it's better this way.
He took you to Chagall Café. Although it was your first time out in a long while, he had no qualms about ignoring your questions. He feigned deafness as you asked about the news, his college life, friends, or anything related to what was happening in 2009. And he even ignored your humble request to buy the cheapest coffee for you. Instead, he bought you a chocolate frappe.
"For Elizabeth's cutest little sibling." He said, sarcastically copying Elizabeth's tone as he sharply handed the drink. "Wouldn't want everyone's darling to get a caffeine addiction."
Thanks, asshat.
Of all his offensive behavior— he really spent more money just to insult you. You shook your head and accepted it. It's the most expensive one on the menu too. What dedication to being a hater. But before you could open your wallet, he shot your payment down.
"Just take it." He smirked. "Look at you, paying me back for treating you poorly. Are you a masochist?"
You immediately shoved your money back in. "You still bought me a free drink, so really, who's the loser here? Prick."
[Wanderer] laughed heartily before he pulled out his battered codal, which had underlined texts for provisions he deemed important. There was a momentary softness in his gaze that disappeared in an instant.
But that's the only conversation he planned on having that evening. He did mention he'll drag you out in his study session so you weren't too shocked by it. Instead, you sat and awkwardly people-watched. The world you came from and this one were identical. You got through your old 2009 just fine— it's just that Tatsumi Port Island was not a real location from your original Japan.
Your memories about the video game Persona aren't very clear since you reincarnated in the game, but the red band [Wanderer] wore on his sleeve affirmed that he is the leader of S.E.E.S. It's nice to know that someone like him has the potential to become a leader.
[Wanderer] appeared wholly immersed in his studies.
…
Maybe he wouldn't notice if you looked around—
…?!
He immediately grabbed your hand. You yelped slightly as you noticed the iron grip he had.
"Where are you going?"
Don't leave him.
He squeezed just a bit more tightly.
"W-What the— I'm just going to the bathroom." You felt a shiver down your spine as you shared his gaze. There's a dull coldness to it you couldn't quite place, as if he had been a witness to injustice, sevenfold.
You quietly sat back down. He still hasn't let go of your hand.
"Good riddance." He muttered.
"If it isn't [Wanderer]!"
You turned around, yanking your hand away.
It's Ryoji.
You stood up, gawking.
"W-Woah, are you okay?" Ryoji asked, hurriedly approaching you. While you were frozen in place, [Wanderer] looked at his empty hand, feeling your warmth escape his fingertips.
G-Good… he's still alive.
You thought [Wanderer] killed him.
[Wanderer] is the wildcard, and that's a terrifying factor to consider. He hasn't shown any interest in humanity. Knowing his past has not increased any hope on your end. Everyone else in his eyes are insignificant insects.
He has the power to end Ryoji.
He has the power to end this world.
Locked and loaded.
Ryoji's eyes softened. "Wait, I think I know a beautiful face like yours from somewhere… You must be [Wanderer]'s attendant, (Y/n), right?"
You blinked.
"Wait, how did you…"
He chuckled, taking and placing a soft kiss on your gloved hands.
"I have my ways." Ryoji winked.
"Don't touch them." [Wanderer] sneered.
Ryoji stood up straight, unfazed by his threatening tone. You took a moment to examine his appearance. He had a lot of white clothing and a big yellow scarf around his neck. Just below his left eye is a mole. On the surface, he appeared quite human, but everyone seated at this table was aware of his true nature.
He is the 13th arcana. The appraiser.
You and [Wanderer] have every right to be wary.
"I'm Ryoji Mochizuki. It's nice to be officially introduced to you, Mx. (Y/n)."
"Ryoji Mochizuki…" You tasted the syllables.
"Oh? Who knew hearing my name from your lips makes it sound so wonderful."
"C-Cut it out, you don't mean that." You said, a little flustered.
[Wanderer]'s gaze fixated on you, stewing in his concoction of envy and misery. His fists were clenched beneath the table, knuckles turning white. With narrowed eyes, he watched as you continued engaging in conversation with Ryoji. His laughter was grating his ears. He couldn't bear the sight of you engaging with another man, especially someone as flirtatious as him.
Ryoji, sensing [Wanderer]'s distress, shot him a casual glance. To top the look, he paired it with a knowing smirk. He made mental notes of the man's clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.
"You seem a little on edge, [Wanderer]. Finals coming up?" He feigned innocence.
"It's December, and I'm not on edge." He scoffed, trying not to make his gritted teeth evident. "Don't you own a calendar? Finals are in March. To think a pea-brain like you managed to transfer to Gekkan…"
"Right, right." Ryoji smiled, closing his eyes. "Then it must be my proposal you're thinking of."
You stiffened; [Wanderer] did not.
"Ryoji—"
"I know, Mx. (Y/n)." He started. "I know you're not too keen on the idea of killing me. My existence is the affirmation of the Fall. None of you— sorry, I forgot (Y/n) is from the Velvet room— I meant none of them will live till Spring… Or perhaps it's more accurate to say they'll forfeit the will to live."
…
"… I-I'm sorry." Ryoji buried his face in his yellow scarf. There's a certain tremble in his voice that truly emphasizes his sorrow. "Just as all living things die, the flow of time cannot be hindered. But there's comfort in killing me. If you do… you won't have to suffer for the coming days."
If [Wanderer] kills Ryoji, Tartarus, the Dark Hour— the burden of everyone's memories will all disappear.
But [Wanderer] can retain his.
He's not originally from this world after all…
However, should he let him live, the rest of S.E.E.S's life will continue until everyone's inevitable demise.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
[Wanderer] rolled his eyes, diverting his eyes back to his notes. "Everyone will die soon, who cares? I've heard your spiel several times already. You need to get more entertaining material."
"[Wanderer]!" You scolded him.
Your eyes widened in disbelief at [Wanderer]'s unwittingly casual jabs at the apocalypse. You wanted to ask him if he was even listening, but the truth will disappoint you. A cold sweat formed on your brow.
Ryoji's smile crooked into a hopeless one.
"You depend on (Y/n) too much."
[Wanderer] froze. "What did you say…?"
"You have a group of people around you, eager to establish a bond— eager to be friends with you. You have met Junpei, Yukari, Mitsuru, Akihiko, Fuuka, and many others– but you don't consider any of them as your friends." Ryoji shook his head. "Instead, you spend your time with just (Y/n). Never anyone else. Just them. To the point that I think it's unhealthy."
"I don't care for humans." He replied immediately.
"You're human too, [Wanderer]." Ryoji shot back. "You're made of blood, bones, and flesh."
[Wanderer] fell silent. What Ryoji said was true, and yet…
"Am I?" He laughed.
The sound was hollow and mechanical. Deprived of genuine mirth. It did not sound forced, yet his eyes were dull.
…
Perhaps he lived as a puppet for so long that the idea of being human has yet to reach him.
Ryoji shifted, uncomfortably glancing between you two. The tension was palpable despite the cafe's peaceful ambiance. Ryoji cleared his throat softly.
"I should leave…" He trailed off, voice slightly wavering. His eyes darted around, scrambling for words to say. "But, um, before I leave, I just want to say again that you need to give it some more thought, [Wanderer]... It's a big deal… Just…"
Ryoji sighed. "Remember to make your choice to spare or kill me by December 31st. I'm glad you're having fun but don't get too distracted with (Y/n). I'll be waiting."
That being said, his footsteps reverberated loudly in the otherwise still room as he turned and headed for the door. He dared to turn back as he grabbed for the doorknob and saw you two sharing a look that he couldn't determine if it was one of contemplation or displeasure. He hurried out and the cafe door shut behind him.
"Happy?" [Wanderer] bitterly asked.
You paused for a moment… then grinned.
"Tsk, what are you laughing at, worm?"
"Nothing, nothing!" You shrugged. "I just thought that for a guy with a stick up his ass, you're cute when you're jealous."
That riled [Wanderer] up in an instant.
You do not know the full extent of his envy's filth.
"I am NOT—" He stopped, realizing how counterproductive it would be. "Whatever. I don't care."
"Uhuh?"
"Shut up and finish your damn chocolate!"
II. Anger.
Before you know it, it's April.
"Seriously, you three, I'm bored as fuck! Can't I just take a stroll outside?" You yelled, waving the heavy persona compendium in the air as your sisters ignored you.
It hasn't been long since you reincarnated, so your right to go outside isn't as liberal. Given the impending threat of an apocalypse, the Velvet Room attendants are especially overprotective.
"(Y/n), dear sibling, watch your mouth! You mustn't let Igor or Nameless hear you speak so vulgarly."
Taking a good look at your new "siblings", you've noticed how almost everyone was present. Margaret sat elegantly on the sofa while Theodore & Elizabeth were doing their best to calm you down. It's almost rare to have all three in one place. The three oldest were busy-bodies who had more eccentric matters they devoted their attention to. Including rapping and dancing, though neither performances are good for your senses.
"If boredom plagues you, then you should try teasing Theodore." Elizabeth yawned. "He's easy pickings."
"Sister!" Theodore pouted. "Shouldn't (Y/n) focus on studying how fusing works? It would be a better use of their time…"
"The day (Y/n)'s new wildcard learns the value of social links might just be the day miserly politicians become generous." Elizabeth shrugged.
You paled, tugging her sleeve. "Oh fuck… Am I screwed?"
She gave you a lopsided smile. "I may be your new sibling but that does not mean I am obliged to resolve your problems, (Y/n). Learn to solve this on your own."
Theodore coughed.
"Please, stop scaring them, sister Elizabeth. It's not their fault this new guest is a cruel arbiter. I fear there will not be a second of groundless joy in store for them…"
"You're not helping me relax either! Motherfucker. Can't you two speak normally?"
"Settle down, all of you."
The four of you stood straight as Igor tilted his chin up. Though you've gotten used to his bloodshot gaze, it had a way of prickling your skin this time around. With his signature smile, he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.
"Our guest is about to enter."
"W-Wait, RIGHT NOW?!?"
Before you could react, the room transformed into what appeared to be a large elevator. The walls were barred and creaking noises began to subtly make their presence. A floating door materialized, and soon, opened.
Dark purple hair and eyes, short frame, soft face.
"…Hmm?"
You blinked.
"Wait, no way…"
You know him.
Of course, you know him.
"Everyone, meet [Wanderer]."
You decided that you two should reintroduce yourselves and forget that the past ever happened.
For now, you had been gifted with a vital role: being the protagonist's attendant.
According to your Igor, your role is to assist your guest in fusing personas. He had chosen you specifically in advance as you are his "anima/animus figure". Initially, that job was for Elizabeth. However, your beliefs, your intuition, your emotions— they're in perfect tune with [Wanderer]. Igor expects you to facilitate their spiritual and psychological growth and implore them to interact more with others.
Which, based on that alone, sounds like this puppet just hired an unpaid therapist.
"What do you want?"
"Well…"
Since you became [Wanderer]'s attendant, you've started to have thicker skin. He will always make his crankiness known each visit. You're slightly grateful for it, for how else would you know patience otherwise? Though his personality rubs you the wrong way, his strength does have merits you cannot ignore. Even Belladona, the Velvet Room's devout singer, had sung praises for his mettle. There was one line that struck you about her song, something about him being like a puppet with a beating heart unbeknownst to himself…
Which is why you thought you might as well try to see if you could convince him to take you out sometimes.
"What, like a date?" [Wanderer] scoffed then smirked, a light blush on his face. "Are you really that desperate?"
"No, eww—" You rolled your eyes. "I meant it literally. Igor and the others wouldn't let me go outside unless I'm with someone they trust."
He looked away and covered his mouth, his shoulders trembling slightly.
"Like a child?"
"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up." You deadpanned, your pride slightly chipped. "Like a child or whatever you want to see it, as long as it gets me out of here. I just want to see the world before it all…"
You paused.
Better not to bring it up. You're not sure if Igor told him yet.
[Wanderer] raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"
You shrugged. "Is money not enough?"
He paused.
…
"You've got to be kidding me— Fine, what else do you want?"
His eyelids lowered, hissing slightly. "Evil expects evil from others, huh? I wasn't trying to think of anything more, but now that I think about it…"
"Oh, great."
"… I can take your request," he pointed at you. "But only if you join me in the library. Anywhere else, especially loud places like clubs, I'll send your ass back."
That's a no-brainer.
"Deal!"
Though you've missed the peculiar sight, [Wanderer] had a small smile on his face as you shook hands. The two of you had become nearly inseparable since then.
Worryingly, he's closer to you than other humans.
The only relationship he needed was with you.
And with what little time this world has left, you hope you could have a last cup of coffee with him…
I. Denial.
Your reality crumbled. What a START.
Your family, friends... all gone. No one was left. You convince yourself you "deserved" this punishment for smoking a life away with dreadful workloads, no matter how untrue it was. When the world burnt down, you were sent into a darkness you had not known before.
The person in charge of your reincarnation process told you that for the next few minutes, you and a selected companion will see your lives flash before your eyes in a void— and it will not necessarily be a comforting sight.
But you woke up relaxed. In an abyss filled with broken mirrors meant to depict your character to pieces, you donned a plain expression. There was not an inch of you that grieved for what was lost. Similarly, you had no care for how you were being transmigrated to another realm. Though you had grown accustomed to this isolation, humanity always struggled with silence. There was ringing on your fingers. When you unclasped your hands, you saw a pointed shard. Curiously, you clenched it. But no matter the tightness of your grip, no blood came out.
Your breath fogged up the glass. You wondered why that Memokeeper told you that you deserve to live on. You thought your life was rather unremarkable.
Makes sense. You thought to yourself. I'd rather pride myself on a boring life with integrity than an ambitious yet fraudulent one.
「Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Assignments. Commute. Study. Review. Was that all your life was...? Then tell me, little (Y/n), why does the mirror in front of you appear distorted?」
And so, you gazed forward. Your reflection stood tall, larger than your life, and it beckoned you to come closer. This "(Y/n) (L/n)" had the opposite of a Cheshire grin- perhaps a caricature- perhaps an accurate depiction. Wearied of yourself and wearied of the sycophantic students around you. How unhappy are you to see yourself as someone like this? Are these the emotions you wish to be preserved? Is this the memory you want your world to be remembered by?
「These memories must be corrupted. Someone must be tampering with them. I do not think you lived a miserable life.」
I can't answer your questions either. But I think that reflection is who I am, because sometimes...
"I wish I had never been born at all."
Your lips were parted, but no sound came out. You resonated with those words, but they did not come from you. The voice was dark, hopeless, and alone.
When you were being sent off, you thought no one was around to greet you. There was another man. He had short hair and purple eyes- an incredibly rare sight in your world. This man seemed to be gazing at his reflection as well. You needn't know how he saw himself. The emptiness in his eyes did not differ from yours. He, too, was masking isolation as independence with an intense fragility. The dread he inflicted upon you was the closest you've ever gotten to facing your own perceived "weakness".
His memories were a mixbag. Some were filled with domestic bliss, but the anger in his heart triumphed more. He had friends but thought himself betrayed. His heart was constructed through a system of evasions, and he was a specialist in self-deception. This man knew little of emotions but had an abundance of it. It's no wonder he refused to sacrifice the artistry of his vengeance against humanity. You can sympathize with how he could not attach himself to those around him. He was burdened with malicious knowledge. Fakes. Lies. Insincerities. A class of his own.
However, he had a sin you cannot empathize with. A trait you can read that you're certain he had never noticed about himself.
He was a sickeningly beautiful man with a peculiar innocence.
He looked like a man who truly did not live in the real world.
This man did not feel real to you. He felt made-up. Fictional. His aura of flawlessness appalled you. Though you shared the same sentiments, you thought him dimensionless.
Yet this is supposedly your first meeting.
「Is it? Where have you seen him before? Can't you remember, dear (Y/n)?」
No. No, I can't.
「... What a shame. Worry no more, little (Y/n). Close your eyes. When you wake up, you will meet your new reality— new realm— new family.」
You nodded and agreed to a higher existence you did not believe in. Unlike others, you were a little bit more incapable of trusting a living soul. But there's no other choice.
Life is ordinarily far from anyone's control in the first place. Why bother fighting? If following can make her fuck off, it doesn't matter.
Nothing matters.
Wait…
Is that…
Scaramouche?
Before you closed your eyes and accepted your fate, you could've sworn...
He looked at you with a crooked grin.
「Thou art I... And I am thou...
Thou hast established a new bond...
Thou shalt be blessed when creating
Personas of the Universe Arcana..."」
"Hmm. Strange… Is that truly the order of the story?"
A woman stared at you.
Not (Y/n) (L/n).
YOU.
BEHIND.
THE.
SCREEN.
She smiled wryly.
Hate might empower you for a short while, but it comes at the cost of consuming you whole. Should a shard or any surface reflect [Wanderer]'s face, he would understand what he had become. However, it's too late. He had made his choice and stomped away any remorse he could have. When all is said and done, he alone will spread the ashes. He alone will stand. A blank slate.
[Wanderer] spent his life looking for scapegoats and ended up removing his responsibility.
Betrayals?
What a sad, sad puppet.
What a poor excuse to justify an entire apocalypse.
A poor excuse of a man.
"THE ARCANA IS THE MEANS BY WHICH ALL IS REVEALED." She muttered softly. "And you have been reading your story in REVERSE. Perhaps this is the only way this world can attain SALVATION. The chronological order is not a slice of life. You did not have a disagreement and decided to start your relationship over again. Life is far more WICKED."
"Read it again, but from DENIAL to ACCEPTANCE. The proper way to GRIEVE DEATH."
With great reluctance, she took the five cards laid on the table and placed them in an upright position.
"Let's see if you'd rather ACCEPT the truth or live in DENIAL."
Mixed-Kester can now message Wanderer [prior to 12/31/2009]
#yandere scaramouche#yandere genshin impact#yandere wanderer#yandere scaramouche x reader#yandere wanderer x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#wanderer x reader#tw: yandere#$ first follower event#yandere#yanderecore#yandere male#yandere gi#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin x gender neutral reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#$ brynn's manuscripts
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can you elaborate on the gfms being scams? everyone else ive seen having even the slightest amount of doubt about them has been immediately accused of personally murdering people but it all just feels so suspicious to me.
Lets start with this: anyone asking for money online you should be skeptical of. Think of how easy it wouldve been for you to pull off something like this scam. all you have to do is say youre from *enter compromised topical area here*, look for some pictures\videos on facebook\tiktok (a lot of the time they arent even from where they claim they are, a lot of footage you see from gaza was actually taken in syria years ago), make up a name and boom. you have the perfect side hustle.
and being that gofund me does not operate in israel or palestine the fundraiser would have to be conducted by a third party, the scammers themselves are not claiming to be organizations acting on behalf of gazans. they are claiming to be the palestinians themselves using false names, spamming posts that engage with 'free palestine' related tags. you already know the person you give the money to ISN'T the person who "made the post". you have to trust that third party is going to transfer the money to that person the post claims to be. and thats already shady AF. not to mention, that third party isn't even a PERSON. theyre a bot! theyre already lying on 2 fronts- pretending to be the person in that troubled area, and pretending to be a PERSON AT ALL.
there has been a post going around that showed that most of the "vetting" accounts are bots themselves, or are just tumblr users (that again, DO YOU KNOW THESE PEOPLE??) who claim that the post is totally real guys! just trust me on it bro :)
DO YOU KNOW ANY OF THESE PEOPLE THAT ARE "VETTING" ON THIS???
there ARE ways to donate to that cause, that are verified and are related to official organizations. they just don't post their links on TUMBLR.
and the fact i have to sit down and write 5 paragraphs explaining that maybe not everything u see on the interwebs is REAL while some person can set up 100 bots to spam u with the lowest effort lie ive ever seen and just get away with it is RIDICULOUS. the fact that telling people that theyre being scammed is seen as some immoral thing to do is ridiculous. U MAKE SCAMMERS RICH AT THE EXPENSE OF VULNERABLE PEOPLE. stop. being. stupid.
#anon im not mad at you its just mind boggling to me that ppl are so willing to buy into these scams#to feel good about themselves while doing nothing#asks
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From Eden IV - Benjicot Blackwood
✧.* masterlist
✧.* pairing: benjicot blackwood x daenys velaryon
✧.* summary: it is the eve of Daenys and Benjicot's wedding and each are celebrating with loved ones. while their celebrations are cheery, it is the calm before the storm; heading closer to disaster.
✧.* word count: 3.5k
“And on that day, there had never been more drunk people in all of the Seven Kingdoms!” Rhaenyra jested. Daenys, Baela, and Rhaena erupt into laughter at the finale of the story. They had been secluded in a room and idly snacking and drinking wine. Daenys, unfortunately, was not able to participate in the feasting on account of her dress fitting. She stood on a raised dias in the room, sucking in her stomach and praying for her release. There was no denying her eagerness to marry Ben, but the dress fitting she could do without.
It was the day before her marriage ceremony to Benjicot and she was being put through one final check of her dress. Rhaenyra used the excuse of making sure everything was made perfect before the big day, but truly she wanted to spend as much time with her daughter as possible until her departure to Raventree Hall. Their afternoon was spent talking of gossip and excitement for the wedding.
The main dressmaker bowed to Rhaenyra, “The dress is complete, princess.”
Daenys resisted to urge to sigh loudly, for her feet were tired from standing for hours. She immediately marched behind one of the dividers in the room and began to get out of the dress with the help of some handmaids. By the time she had gotten ready again, the dressmaker was gone and the maids followed.
Daenys went to the lounge area where all the women were talking. Baela already had a goblet of wine poured for her and passed it into her hand when she sat down with them. Daenys gave her stepsister a thankful smile before taking a sip.
“Do you have any more wild stories like that?” Rhaena asked as she picked up a grape from the silver platter on the table and popped it into her mouth.
“Oh, well it depends on your definition of wild, my dear,” Rhaenyra responded. She leaned back in her chair and gently rubbed her stomach. Her pregnancy had progressed well, with little discomfort or worry from the maester. It would only be a few months until the infant is expected to come.
“Surely you have a story to rival the one from before?” Baela joined her sister in prodding for information. Daenys took a sip from her cup while her mother spoke.
“I do have one story with a Blackwood.” Daenys choked on her wine and placed her cup down in a fit of coughs. Baela and Raena laughed at her frantic movements.
“You what, mother?” Daenys questioned. She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped the wine from her chin with slight embarrassment.
Rhaenyra had a playful look on her face, “When I was a young girl, I had a tour for suitors. One of them was a Blackwood. He had to have been… maybe ten and two at that time. A charming young boy, but much too young. Oh, whatever was his name… Warren… Wesley…”
“Willem?” Daenys questioned. She had begun to lean forward in her seat.
“Ah, yes, that was his name. A Bracken lad had insulted him and at that point, I just wished to leave. He managed to cut him down despite being half his size.” Rhaenyra plopped a grape into her mouth upon finishing. She told the story as if it was a casual topic of discussion.
“Willem did that? He never mentioned anything about it when I visited Raventree Hall.” Daenys had grabbed the pitcher to fill her cup. “He did mention that he met you once… but nothing about killing a man in front of you.”
In the first month of her courtship with Ben, he had taken her to Raventree Hall. Daenys got to see his ancestral home and meet his family. His father, Samwell, had been a copy of his son. She could tell where he got his shyness and fierce will from. She was grateful to be welcomed so easily into the family, even prior to their engagement. Willem and Alysanne, Ben’s aunt and uncle, were a joy to be around. It took them a few days to get used to the presence of a princess, but after the ice was broken Daenys meshed in so well with them.
It was two weeks into her stay that Benjicot had officially asked for her hand in marriage, beneath the colossal weirwood tree in the godswood. It was part of a planned dinner they had together, a tale of sweetness she wished to keep to herself.
“The Bracken boy asked for it, to be so disrespectful in front of a hall of lords and me, their princess. A scandal to be sure.” Her mother responded.
“Speaking of Blackwoods,” Baela turned to Daenys, “How is your Blackwood, cousin?”
“I feel there is something else behind your words.” Daenys countered.
“We want to know about him!” Rhaena shifted in her seat with excitement.
Daenys shrugged, “You have already met him, many times. Why-”
“The details, ñuha prūmia,” Rhaenyra began, “How does he treat you? What drove you to such an engagement, other than to benefit my place as heir?”
Daenys paused and thought for a moment. There really was no explanation as to why she gravitated towards him so easily. There was no struggle to know him, or awkward first meetings. She had a connection to him, and that was all there was to it.
“It’s… more than just knowing someone your whole life. Conversation flows easily with him as if we had always known one another. Perhaps we were acquainted that well in a past life. Truly, I cannot explain it. It just feels right, as everything is as it's supposed to be.” Daenys did not believe her words had been poetic, as surprisingly that was Ben’s talent, not hers. However, the gentle awe from the women around her showed that her words were enough.
“He is a gentleman, from what I have seen so far,” Rhaena added, and the other women nodded in agreeance.
“And what is your gentleman up to on the eve of your wedding?” Baela asked.
“Oh, Kermit and Oscar Tully arrived just this morn. They are most likely training in the courtyard now, nothing too strenuous.” Daenys answered.
───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────
“Drink, drink, drink, drink!” The joined chants of Oscar, Kermit, Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Daemon carried through the feasting hall of Dragonstone. Ben had a large pitcher of ale clutched in both of his hands. He was currently chugging the drink to the encouragement of the men around him. Some drops of ale spilled from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. Once he finished, Ben slammed the drink on the feasting table and raised his arms in victory. All of the men broke into celebratory hollers.
“Nice one, laddie!” Oscar Tully patted his friend on the back.
Ben had planned on having a calm night, perhaps some training with friends, but those plans had been dashed when Daemon decided to host a dinner to celebrate the occasion. Ben could not deny him, for he was still unsure of the prince's thoughts on his and Daenys union. What was a slightly tense dinner had quickly faded the more ale they consumed. The only one who was sober had been Lucerys, as he was limited to only a few drinks.
Jacaerys saw his brother try and sneak another glass and quickly snatched the pitcher, “I do believe you have reached your limit, brother.”
“Just one more, Jace.” Lucerys pleaded.
“I don’t think one more drink could do him any harm,” Ben defended his soon-to-be brother-in-law.
Daemon nodded after taking a bite of his steak, “I agree with Lord Benjicot over there. One more drink won’t harm. Plus, it is time Luke begins to learn the ways of men.”
“And the perfect way to do that is with what men know most - ale.” Kermit pitched in.
“See, if the wedding were to happen in Kings Landing,” Daemon began as he picked up his cup and scanned his gaze across those at the table, “I could have shown you all the real way to celebrate. I know all the best brothels.”
The men, besides Lucerys, laughed. Ben responded, “Well, Daenys wished for it to be on Dragonstone. Alas, my prince, I would have had to deny such an invite as I do not frequent such establishments.” Ben waved his hand in polite dismissal. He gazed at the food on his plate and decided he had eaten enough for the evening.
“The honourable Lord Benjicot, faithful to his lady.” Jace teased as he put down a pitcher of ale, “Tell me, which one is the true commander in your union?”
“I do as my princess bids, Jace.” Ben chided back at his jest.
“Yes, yes, I understand your sentiment but such sweet words are boring me.” Daemon poured more wine into his goblet, “Let us drink some more.”
───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────
“You’ve done an awful lot of teasing about my marriage, yet we have not talked about yours,” Daenys spoke as they glanced at Baela and Rhaena. Rhaenyra giggled at her daughter's words and hid her laughter from behind her goblet of wine. The two sisters looked around the room with visible nervousness. The ladies had moved from one of the lounge rooms and into another for dinner. The sun had set long ago, and flickering candles illuminated the room. It was a calm night, with little wind and gentle waters.
“We are not betrothed,” Baela answered.
“But you will be soon,” Rhaenyra expressed, “And it is important that you keep that in mind.”
Rhaena looked to Daenys, “There doesn’t happen to be another available Blackwood?”
“Unfortunately, no. You needn’t worry, I do not care how many lords I will have to fight, you shall marry a man who is kind like you.” Daenys asserted. She had felt similar fear when looking at her prospects for marriage in the past. It is no surprise that it is also felt by Baela and Rhaena. She made a vow to herself to petition for their right to go about and seek a husband, rather than all the lords seek them out.
Daenys reflected often on her luck with both happiness and deep sorrow. She was grateful for her situation, to be married to a man like Benjicot - more so in her ability to choose. However, her heart ached for the other women of the realm; both high and low-born. For the highborn ladies are ferried off like lambs to slaughter. She could not imagine what that was like for those born in the position of lower prospects.
Daenys stifled a yawn, which caught her mother's attention.
Rhaenyra rose from her seat, “The hour is late and tomorrow is such a big day. It is well past time we rest.”
There were no complaints from any in the room. They all had been fighting off the coming sense of exhaustion in favour of speaking more. Baela and Rhaena gave both Daenys and Rhaenyra gentle hugs goodbye, with quick comments of luck to Daenys for her ceremony on the morrow. Once alone, the mother-daughter duo made their way through the dimly lit halls of Dragonstone and to Daenys’ room. Rhaenyra sat on one of the plush chairs in from of a burning hearth. Daenys got on the floor in front of her and waited patiently as her mother took out all of her braids and twists. The feeling of a brush being softly put through her hair nearly lulled her to sleep.
There were no exchanges of words for the entirety of it. Nothing needed to be said. All that was left were two women wishing to be in one another's company, for such a thing would turn into a luxury once Daenys was married and carted off to the Riverlands.
It was an unyielding fear in Daenys that she had not expressed to anyone, even Ben. Her time in the Riverlands was the longest she had been apart from her mother. It had only been bearable because she had the presence of her brother and the knowledge that she would return to Dragonstone. With her marriage to Ben, she would be tied permanently to Raventree Hall. It was not something she detested. She was excited for her marriage and had made good friends with the Blackwoods, but it was still new.
Visits were possible, but they would be few and far between. As much as Daenys fought to build her reputation beyond a princess, she was deep down still a little girl basking in the light of her mother. A life of barely seeing Rhaenyra would be a life difficult to get used to. Adding to that fear was the prospect of becoming a mother herself. Daenys was not ready to be a mother. How could she, if she could barely part from her own?
“I know you care deeply for Benjicot,” Rhaenyra began as Daenys moved to sit beside her, “but if you have any regret or uncertainty, tell me and we can delay the ceremony. I do not want you to feel like it's too late.”
Daenys looked fondly at her mother, “I do wish to marry him, truly. I am scared… about how I will be as a wife and most of all being parted from Dragonstone. I don’t wish to lose you, mother.”
“Oh, ñuha prūmia,” Rhaenyra began, “You will never lose me.” She reached out and cupped her daughter's face.
“Things are changing, greatly so.”
“That happens in life. We grow up, get old, and move on from things. Listen, you will always be welcome here, any moment you can come on Suneater and visit as often as you'd like. I will do the same and visit Raventree Hall whenever possible.” Rhaenyra reassured her daughter.
“You will be busy in a few months taking care of the babe.” Daenys spoke, “How is Visenya, anyways?” She had been insistent that the babe her mother was carrying would be a girl. Even more so had she been insistent that the child be named Visenya. Rhaenyra was inclined to follow her daughter's words. Her belly had begun to show a few moons ago, so it was only a matter of time until the birth.
“Visenya moves often. It feels the same as all the other pregnancies before. Painful and uncomfortable, but worth it.” Rhaenyra answered.
“Well, I do not envy you.” Daenys picked at the fabric of her dress.
“Soon you will be in the same position.” Daenys frowned at her mother's words and continued to distract herself from the topic. Rhaenyra sensed her daughter's hesitancy and decided it was best not to push any further.
“I think it is best that you get all the rest you can.” The heir got out of her seat with the help of Daenys. As she was being guided out the door, she turned back to her child, “You will always be my first daughter and my biggest priority.” She kissed Daenys on the head before parting down the hall.
Daenys watched her mother go until she turned down another hallway. Once out of sight, she closed the door and proceeded to undress. She got into her nightclothes, a thin chemise, and crawled into bed. While she was plagued with exhaustion, the excitement for the next day exceeded it. She tossed and turned for a while, unable to fall asleep. It was after another turn in her bed that she huffed loudly and sat up.
She shuffled out of bed and made her way to one of the windows. Daenys perched on the padded sitting area and watched the night sky. The moon hung in the sky amongst the stars. The shimmering light cast down on the gently moving water surrounding the island. She brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on one while wrapping her arms around her legs.
The familiar creaking of the secret door in the far corner of the room pulled Daenys from her thoughts. She turned around to see Ben tumble into her room. When the door opened fully, he stumbled and almost lost his balance. Despite the near fall, it did not look like he was phased by it.
“My lovely wife!” His voice, slightly slurred, called out. Daenys had never been more surprised by his actions. She could clearly see his intoxicated state.
“Quiet down, Ben. Someone could hear.” She tried to keep her voice down.
Ben paused and stood in the corner for a moment as if he was slowly processing her words. His arms hung at his sides and the clothing her wore was ruffled slightly. His breath was laboured.
“Oh!” He acknowledged but followed it up with hushed laughter, “My apologies, my lady.” He went to bow but struggled immensely to keep his balance when doing it. He walked shakily over to her and plopped himself down. Ben leaned his back against the vertical part of the window and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. Daenys unravelled and leaned into him while stretching out her legs. Ben had his legs bent at the knees, essentially caging her in.
“And, pray tell, why are you so drunk?” Daenys questioned.
Ben rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed, “Daemon wished to have dinner with me, your brothers, and my friends. It was amusing.”
“I can tell by the scent of ale on you. Why have you come to my room so late? You should be resting and working off the drinking.” Her words were followed by a whine-like noise escaping his throat.
“But I want my wife.” Ben buried his head in her hair and inhaled the scent.
Daenys trembled from his touch, “Tomorrow, I shall be your wife.” Ben let out a hum of contentment at her words, his lips rumbling against her skin.
“You question why I am up so late, yet you happen to be awake.” Ben teased.
“Sleep could not come.” She answered him, “I am excited, ‘tis all.”
He kissed her neck. Though he was still drunk, Ben steeled himself, “I know what has been bothering you, and it has not been the wedding preparation. I know Raventree Hall may never be considered your home, and I am alright with that. I hope you recognize that you will be safe and content under my protection. House Blackwood may not be swimming in gold, but we have enough to be well comfortable.”
“It is not that,” Daenys said as she grabbed one of his hands and began to play with it, “I love your home, truly. It will take me a while to adjust, but all will be fine. If I am being honest… you are my home, Ben.” She leaned back to kiss his cheek.
Ben’s hold on her tightened as his arms wound tighter around her waist, “Raventree Hall will always be open to your family for visits. They can stay as long as they wish to.”
“Thank you, Ben.” Daenys gaze moved back to the stars in the sky.
“I spoke to your stepfather before coming,” Ben spoke after a few moments of silence. Daenys tensed at his words, unsure of how their conversation went.
He saw her unease and continued, “It was good. Prince Daemon and I spoke privately. He made me take a vow, that is all. I do believe we found common ground.”
“What vow?” Daenys inquired.
“That I would protect you with my life. Honour you as my wife. That I pledge fealty to House Targaryen and come to serve in the event of conflict.” Ben swiped his thumb up and down on her stomach, rubbing in soothing motions. He lifted his head to rest his chin on the top of her head.
“So you are aware of the tension in my family?”
“The tension is across the seven kingdoms, love. Not many lords acknowledge their distaste for your mother as heir but rather hide it. When that comes to the surface…” He trailed off. Daenys felt the tension in his body and she knew he was just as inclined to the state of the kingdom as her.
“That is something to worry about later,” Ben told her, “For now, you must sleep.” Daenys shifted in his hold to get more comfortable. She tilted to the side to get a better vision of the night sky. Ben began to run his hands up and down her arm.
Daenys closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by Ben’s repetitive movements. It was only after her chest started to rise and fall in calm movements that Ben assessed her to finally be asleep. He maneuvered himself slowly off of the ledge while holding her in his arms. Ben walked across her room and to her bed. He leaned down to pull back the covers while keeping her steady. He placed Daenys into her bed and pulled the covers over her body, tucking in the sides tenderly.
The Blackwood man placed a kiss on her forehead, “Until tomorrow, love.”
______________
✧.* note: we are getting closer and closer to the war - super exciting. how long do you think peace during their marriage will last? just something to think on, lol.
if you want to be added to any taglist i have, you can fill out a response here.
✧.* taglist: @credulouskhaleesi @username199945 @haydee5010 @yeolsbubbles @f1wh0recom @cococrazy18 @poppyflower-22 @eevanie @dumpmyblues
#benjicot blackwood imagine#hotd imagine#hotd fanfiction#house of the dragon#benjicot blackwood#benjicot blackwood fanfic#ben blackwood#benjicot blackwood x oc#bloody ben#house blackwood#house targaryen#fire and blood#house velaryon#fire and blood fanfic#asoiaf imagine#asoiaf fanfic
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hopping on this train about the whole smut is overdone and sexualization of ellie thing since i'm bored ! i agree with the whole thing about certain scenes centered around struggle and sorrow being sexualized, and the watering down of her character— it definitely happens quite often, and whenever i do see those scenes where ellie is at her lowest i have a sense of like "my poor baby noo" so i can see that. think ive only used that image of her torn up back for reference once, but that was it. sometimes i do think her personality gets very misrepresented, but tbh i don't mind a purely cocky or purely loser ellie when it's done in balance. feel like when you write one, you get called out for not putting the other into play. unless im hallucinating. idk.
on the other hand, the debate about smut and the need for more angst, fluff, and plot— i'm a tinge in the gray area abt this. if you've seen any of my works (oneshots or series) especially copy that romeo, you know i'm a plot warrior 😭 unreleased knight!ellie is literally my most yappalicious fic (in the shakespearian way). yet most of my works feature smut, cause i'm either horny or feelin romantical, but also it's entertaining to write. tickles my pickle, mayhaps 🔥. but like, realistically? from the bottom of my heart? bottom of my booty? plot is hellacious to delve into. making stories from scratch or even sewing up a new path within the realm of a different video game— can be grueling. so, i can see why people don't jump into it as much. i encourage people to try, definitely, even a modicum of plot can really put the ommphh in your fic IF you are searching for it. but I'll be so so honest sometimes fleshing out stories makes me want to BOIL and get straight to the romance dialogue or whatever. so when i say i can see both sides— i do because writing smut woven by a majority of dialogue can be funner and simpler. like a little treat.
a lot of people debating this state these as opinions, and claim nobody is targeted in the process, but with the passion i'm seeing being bootyfucked into long long paragraphs, i just think that some names have to blossom to mind?? like almost indirectly, yknow? or maybe i'm just paranoid. i love love LOVE all the people debating this don't take this wrongly, TRUST i love some of ur accounts, especially those who like to analyze ellie's charecter I LOVE IT (i already forgot the name of the person who kind of sparked this whole thing but ily) but yeah. i just feel even opinions could be taken to heart by those who want to write, or write smut, and feel guilty for it. maybe that's how my brain works but. putting it out there ig.
anyways ELLIE WILLIAMS BREEDING KINK fic is in the works and that definitely has plot (kms) so buckle in for that ride!!!! 🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯
DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO
#ellie williams#⊱🦷.•aestra talks#𓍯don't give aestra the mic 🎤#ellie williams x reader#tlou fanfiction#fanfiction#the last of us
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it’s taken me like five times to make this message cause I don’t want to sound lame lol. but, I wanted to say that you are one of my favorite artists out there. I never thought I could be a person that would be able to pursue something like this before. but, with a lot of courage and inspiration from artists like you I am. 💗 I even made this account to show small forms of art I am able to make from practice to someday pieces I’m really proud of. I hope to make others happy through what I make just like you do. earlier this year was a difficult time in my life and I’d like to thank you as being one of the people who helped me through it. I hope you have a good day! and if this is answered publicly, to anyone reading. you can do anything you want to and you deserve to live and be as perfect as you already are.
thanks so much, i don't really know what to say, i don't know how much credit i can take for you yourself taking the initiative and making great art... 😥💕 but ive been going thru a rough burnout so its really nice to hear today. thank u for sharing it
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i was planning on doing this anyway, but here’s the deal: im leaving tumblr
guys, i have chronic pain. severe, debilitating chronic pain. and the severity of that isn’t exactly the kind that i can just bare my heart to describe. you don’t know how bad it is until you’re on the receiving end of it, and i hope you never are. but im unlucky, and i wake up in persisting pain every day of my life. i won’t talk extensively about my chronic pain in this departure but just know that writing, especially for fandom, is just unrealistic for me right now
writing, especially for THIS fandom, is just out of the fucking question right now.
sorry, but im not giving jerk off material to a bunch of sex starved basement dwellers with cunts that look like rotted raisins. thats just not why i joined this fandom. i joined to celebrate the dramatic rise to fame of someone whose story & identity i found relatable and encouraging. now, people are making baseless assumptions & accusations, as well as actively hurting and spreading false information about kindhearted and talented people.
maybe ill have a future with this fandom in it, as well as creating lighthearted fics, but now? no. its not fun! especially with my health
so where does this leave my fics? unfinished, im afraid. and honestly, maybe even taken down. im tempted to deactivate here, but i dont want to leave people without works that they may go back to. i might orphan them on ao3 — just send me an ask with a fic of mine you favor if it isn’t already posted there, and ill try to get it up.
that said, ive been planning on leaving for a while. that fuck ass account is not the sole reason, but i also don’t want to be part of a circle jerk where everyone gets off on others’ collective misery. which is what this environment feels like rn
thank you to every wonderful soul who’s supported me during my brief stint here 🤎 your comments, reblogs, and asks were all treasured
💌 - vetty
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How do u find cool stuff on flickr ;_;
i search keywords that im interested in go to advanced search and use their "date taken" feature to narrow down the most recent date posted, i usually go for 2013-2014 at the highest but it rly depends on what u want and what ur looking for! i open like 20 tabs (lol) of all the pics in the search results that i like and then see if the pics are in any groups or galleries (galleries are more lucrative tbh!) and then check out the posters page, their likes, if they've made any galleries, sometimes who they follow if i rly like their work. then i follow accounts ive already gone through which makes the posting process easier cus i can tell if i've already seen something after 3,000 posts on here lol BUT its also super useful for the search function cus a "from people you follow" option will come up where the pics from ur followed have all been tagged with the keyword in some way, its amazing how much stuff i miss (and some flickr accounts have like 80 pages and i just cant be bothered to look at all of them). but thru all this i truly never ever run out of cool stuff to find it's genuinely a problem at this point i have dozens on dozens of flickr tabs open and my computer is going to flip me off and die any day now 🫢
hope this helps!!! 。・::・゚★,。・::・゚☆
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Sturniolo tumblr I need your help please.
Tw for mentions of death and murder
Shits been tough for me lately, I'm really mourning the murder of my best friend (even though its been a year and a half) atm and I don't know how to cope/move on. My brother just got taken into custody (He's on a 2 year good behaviour watch list so he prolly blew it) literally a few hours ago as of rn and he could go to prison. Ive been going through a lot of family issues rn and I'm getting into huge arguments with my parent where things just get out of control. This ones not that deep but its like the icing on the fucking cake. My phone stopped working and I can't even unlock it, its literally useless because I cant call or text or anything. Not only that but I've been trying to get a job for months now and no where will hire me, my parents wont help me get money to get a new one or get it fixed and I don't have any old working phones I can use in the meantime. All of this plus the mental health problems I'm going through is just so much and I could really use a distraction, something that I can relate to and make me forget about the reality of everything and Autumns books really did that for me. I relate to y/n in Quiet and In YDKM (You don't know me) so much it was like reading myself in another reality w/ the triplets (ik it sounds corny pls don't make fun of me 😭) and when she deactivated her account I actually cried because I lost access to all her books. Im not asking for your pity or for attention, I just really need y'all to help me find someone who might have YDKM or Quiet saved. I already have a copy of Eastside and the few ss of Quiet and I'm so thankful for that, but I didn't relate to Eastside as much as I did YDKM, and I only have 2 chapters of Quiet. Thank you xx.
#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo edit#lovingmattysposts#comebacklovingmattysposts#quiet#YDKM#sturniolo fandom
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Ned and Lyanna's Pale Blue Roses
There is so much yet to be revealed from the Tower of Joy but the most notable missing detail is Jon Snow himself. He has no place in Ned’s memory of Lyanna’s death. Ned explicitly says only he and Howland Reed left the Tower of Joy alive that day, but we know this can’t be true. They left the tower with another living breathing human being and Ned knows that too. So what gives?
“I might mention, though, that Ned's account, which you refer to, was in the context of a dream... and a fever dream at that. Our dreams are not always literal.” - George R.R. Martin. Not only that but Ned himself admits there is much he simply blacked out from “They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it.”
and may I remind you “A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness” A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV
I think Ned’s mind, through his trauma, grief and determination to leave the past behind, has altered his memories. I think Ned has mentioned Jon almost everytime he mentions the scene in the tower. I think Jon is the blue rose petals from Ned’s memories.
"Eddard!" she called. A storm of rose petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as blue as the eyes of death. A Game of Thrones - Eddard X
If Lyanna’s voice was as damaged as Ned claims “The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper” and yet he could hear her calling for him, surely he could hear a baby crying. Surely Ned knew the Kingsguard would never let him, a rebel whose cause had just murdered Aegon and Rhaenys in cold blood, anywhere near Rhaegar’s last living son. So as Jon’s cries blow across the blood streaked sky Ned knows what comes next.
“The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black.” A Game of Thrones - Eddard I
So was Jon just lying on the floor of the tower? He had to have been somewhere? His mother’s arms? Until her muscles gave out and fell to the bed she laid on maybe.
“But Jon isn’t dead, the rose petals are dead.” True but the petals Ned claims he saw in the wind weren’t dead either. Jon Snow isn’t dead but Lyanna’s son is. He never existed. Rhaegar’s children are all dead. Only Ned Stark’s bastard remains.
"The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister's name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna." Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII
Cersei is currently speaking of Lyanna but make no mistake, this conversation is wrapped around Jon Snow.
Ned thought, If it came to that, the life of some child I did not know, against Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon, what would I do? Even more so, what would Catelyn do, if it were Jon's life, against the children of her body? He did not know. He prayed he never would. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII
He doesn’t list Jon with his biological children but Ned’s saying he’d react with the same paternal instinct and, unlike Catelyn, he wouldn’t save them at the expense of Jon. That’s why he shifts to it to her, she’s the unknown variable in this. Ned doesn’t need to wonder because he’s already done it. He’s chosen Jon’s safety for fifteen years knowing the Starks could be executed over his secret.
What do you take me for? You've a bastard of your own, I've seen him. Who was the mother, I wonder? Some Dornish peasant you raped while her holdfast burned? A whore? Or was it the grieving sister, the Lady Ashara? She threw herself into the sea, I'm told. Why was that? For the brother you slew, or the child you stole? Tell me, my honorable Lord Eddard, how are you any different from Robert, or me, or Jaime?" "For a start," said Ned, "I do not kill children. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII
Cersei asks a few questions here that in large boil down to “Who is your bastard’s mother?” Ned’s only response is “I do not kill children.” He’s given her his answer. Probably the most answer honest he ever gave about Jon. All he wants to do for Cersei is keep her children from the same fate as Rhaegar’s. He’s done it successfully once before, that his blueprint here. But of course he won’t allow his mind to go there. He never dwells on Jon’s parentage, not even in the privacy of his own mind. “(…) and he whispered Lyanna." Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep.” He thinks of pale blue roses, of the innocent children at stake. Of the death of his sister and how she died and he wants to weep.
The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XIII
They are angry with him, the Kings of Winter, Lyanna, there is something he didn’t do. In Jon’s own dreams it’s the Kings of Winter he sees on his way to his mother’s grave. They try to tell him. They scream he’s not a Stark, they want him to know just as much as she does. Her pale blue roses still haunt him while she cries for the promises they both know he can no longer keep. When he slept, he dreamed: dark disturbing dreams of blood and broken promises. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV
Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark. A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV
For certain only Ned and Howland Reed knew the truth. A good argument for Benjen, who Ned’s heard is dead beyond the Wall. No he’ll never tell Jon the truth no matter how much he wants now wants to, “The thought of Jon filled Ned with a sense of shame, and a sorrow too deep for words. If only he could see the boy again, sit and talk with him…” Secrets hidden beneath pale blue petals never to be revealed.
#Valyrian Scrolls#Lyanna Stark#Ned Stark#R+L=J#Jon Snow#Asoiaf Meta#ValyrianScrolls#asoiaf#Game of Thrones#House Stark
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