#like no please he’s already misunderstood enough by his own people

[moeitsu]

I’m curious to hear people’s thoughts on this:

How young is too young for someone to be romantically involved with Arthur? What do you think his minimum age cut-off would be for a partner?

For context, if anyone is wondering how far behind tiktok is on rdr conversations, I’ve been debating with a woman who is adamant about the fact that Arthur had feelings for Abigail simply because he said he would marry her in his journal. But that’s not what surprised me.

How this conversation started you ask? They made and edit of Arthur and Mary-Beth with the caption saying they would have made such a cute couple. To which i commented “they’re cute because they act like siblings. But Arthur is way too old for her.” Ofc they pointed out that in 1899 she would not have been too young. And i answered by saying Arthur specifically, wouldn’t date someone that young.

We both agreed that Mary Beth is younger than Abigail, who is 22. But they think Arthur would have no problem dating someone as young as 20. Which blows my mind because Tilly is not much younger than Mary-Beth, and both Arthur and John see her as a little sister.

Aside from those x readers where there’s a huge age gap (which obviously those are just for fun and not canon)

I feel like there’s a huge mischaracterization going on here. Arthur is not the kind of man to date a girl who is 16 years younger than him. Obviously I dont know the guy personally but that just feels so…icky?

Like, that’s just not who he is? I don’t even know how to properly defend this argument bc tbh it feels gross to imply that he would do that.

Arthur Morgan is an intelligent, deeply empathetic man who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he is far from blind to the struggles women face, particularly in the harsh realities of his time. Having witnessed firsthand the hardships and injustices endured by the women in camp and beyond, he carries a profound understanding of their experiences.

His loyalty and responsibility make him more than capable of protecting and providing for a young woman, but romantic involvement with someone significantly younger just doesn’t align with his character.

Arthur would never take advantage of an imbalance of power or maturity in a romantic context.

[silentmoths]

Acts of Service

The voices are still whispering and @dustofthedailylife may or may not have implanted some brainrot as we both sat and mutually gushed about how blade is a misunderstood wet dog of a man.

Blade x Reader (gn, no actual gender mentioned)

SFW, fluff and Comfort ig...honestly I dont really knoww hat to tag this one as other than just...my own ramblings abt how blade isnt just a bloodthirsty killer just LOOK AT HIM PLEASE- Not proofread, 1.2K words

When asked about Blade, most everyone would reply that he is cold, standoffish and intimidating. He looks like the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to end you if you accidentally put pickles on his burger.

The Stellaron Hunters would say otherwise; sure, he looks intimidating, but he’s actually a calm, thoughtful guy. The kind of man who, after several years of living with solely women, doesn’t even question when Silver Wolf, Kafka or Firefly ask him if he can go to the store, he already knows, hell- half the time, he’s already got what they need, and if he doesn't? He knows what they want before they even say it. 

He’s more attentive than people give him credit for, like a cat, lingering in the corner, but keeping watch over his territory and those he has deemed ‘his’ people. A wallflower some might say…just...one that would occasionally lash out if he deemed someone’s presence unworthy or unwelcome.

He is far sweeter than people believe, the rumours about his bloodthirsty and violent nature, and the bounty to match only serving to cover up the man beneath, the man he keeps out of the public eye the most.

Because for you? For you, he’s never been anything but attentive and kind.

He would never say it, but everything he does for you screams the lengths he would go, he would move mountains for you, destroy planets, solar systems, entire galaxies if he had to. 

It was in how he touched you; bandaged fingers always always careful, no matter how many times you assured him that you were not made of glass. It wasn't fear, you think, that kept him in this state, more like a reverence, like he was a child, and you were his most precious treasure, something he would not, or could not dare break, fold or crease. 

It was the way he always leaned his head down whenever you spoke to him, not condescending, but acknowledging. Even if his eyes were elsewhere, he always makes a point to let you know he’s listening. He takes your suggestions to heart always, he listens to your woes, sometimes he will offer words of encouragement, and sometimes he will offer his sword, if that was what would rid you of your problem faster.

(you had yet to take him up on the offer of the sword)

It was the way he cooked, despite seldom eating himself. He claims that food is simply nutrients for his body, and when he eats for himself, it is almost always something plain and easy to procure…but if he had deemed it long enough that you, or the other’s had gone without, he would rise from the couch and cook a meal that was far more complex, he was a surprisingly good cook, Xianzhou cuisine etched into his muscle memory to the point you’re sure he could make some of these dishes with his eyes closed…and yet it was only ever for you, for the girls, for literally anyone he cared enough for but himself, that he would showcase this ability for. 

You knew he struggled with memory, with himself, with his past and his present. He never verbally acknowledged it, and you think it’s because he doesn’t want you to worry; but you worry anyway, because it’s Blade, and with all the time and care he puts into you and the other Stellaron Hunters, you think he deserves that much. 

He’s far fonder of physical touch than he lets on. He claims he cares little, but the fact he seemingly physically cannot fall asleep unless he’s holding something close to his chest states otherwise. In the privacy of his own quarters with you, it’s rare that you part. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, Blade wants to be a part of it, no matter how big or small. Reading? You find yourself pulled into his lap as he leans against the wall, working on something? There’s usually a hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapped around your waist.

He liked to bite on occasion too. Nothing wholly terrible…a love language with no words. The soft nibbling of teeth along your shoulder as he holds you, or the way he would timetimes lift your hand, just to bite down onto it- this could could mean a thousand different things that he couldn’t say; ’I missed you’.

’Don’t be gone so long, next time.’

’I love you.’

You don’t need to know the exact meaning, his presence, and the act in itself was enough.

Blade liked to claim his body was nothing but a weapon, he did not understand why you saw attraction in it, but he doesn’t stop you either as you carefully unbind the bandages to see him properly. 

Nor does he realise that the scars littering his body are far more sensitive than he gave them credit for. Each scar was a story, but a story lost to the mara; his memory too foggy to discern most all of them.

All but one.

His chest, the large, jagged scar that took up near all the space of his right pectoral, long, long since healed over, but still visible. Slightly redder than the rest of his skin, pulled tight, especially just over his heart. You knew, of course, about Dan Feng, about why Blade hunted his reincarnation, but to see the scar made something twist in your gut.

Slowly, you reach out to brush your fingers along the centre, for a brief moment you feel Blade’s rabbiting heartbeat before the man lurches- his hand gripping your wrist like a vice, the pressure only growing stronger as he scowls, you gasp out as you feel your bones creak.

And just like that, the pressure lifts, the wild, frenzied look in his one visible eye fades and you see the rare flicker of concern as he hunches, his hand no longer squeezing, but cradling your wrist as his other arm comes to brace against your back. He looks horrified with himself, at what he’d done. 

“I-” He chokes out after a long moment of just…staring. “I didn’t-” 

You know, you know he didn’t mean it. You weren’t upset; perhaps a little spooked yes, but not upset. Scars held pain long thought healed, yet no matter how faded, they could still sting.

“It’s ok.” you whisper, lifting your other hand to brush some of his bangs out of the way, catching a rare glimpse of his usually covered eye. He looked like a kicked puppy, like he was expecting you to toss him out in the rain. 

You could never.

You don’t need to say anything else, knowing too much reassurance would only lead to Blade second guessing things, so you content yourself with pressing your uninjured hand to his cheek and smiling. Watching as Blade leans down and quietly presses kiss after kiss along the wrist he’d nearly snapped.

It was in these acts of service that he showed he truly cared.

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y @queen-belial Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[starillusion13]

omg Hi! Im not sure if you’re still accepting requests but if you still do… I would like to request an ot8 ateez x reader where they all leave her because of a misunderstanding and then they chase her back after but she doesn’t forgive/give in so easily ? Thank you love ❤️

Lost you forever

Pairing: Ateez! ot8 x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia, Mature

Warnings: crying, mention of death, poison, mentions of mafia activities like shooting and deals in mafia, misunderstanding, pregnancy(?) [plz tell me if I have missed something] oc doesn't forgive easily coz she is deeply hurt.

W.C: 5.3k (i was so into it sorry)

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated 😭. Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

“I have found her.”

All the noise died down with just one sentence. The room is now pin drop silent with all the heads turned towards the same direction and eyes focused on one person. The one who has just entered through the main door and whose voice made everyone stop in their tracks.

The leader of the group with a blank expression, walks towards the said person and grabs the collar of the leather jacket, eyes burning with his creased forehead but somewhere he wants to believe the words he has just heard.

“You realize what you are speaking right, Mingi?”

Nodding his head, he stares right back, “Absolutely.”

“Are you sure that’s her? Maybe, you might have mistaken someone else.”

Closing his eyes for a second, he sighs, “I have seen her with my own eyes, up so close to realize enough that it was her. Her sweet smile and those soft hands, everything is same.”

The one holding his collar loosen his grip and walks over to the table to get back his drink.

“Hongjoong, stop drinking.” The eldest scolds the leader before turning towards the other, “Then where is she and why didn’t you bring back her here? Where exactly did you see?”

“She was working at the café, down the Ross street. The target’s location was last seen in that café and when I reached there, he had already left and then when I heard that sweet voice asking if I need something?”

“did she see you?” The youngest asks him with curiosity filled in his eyes.

“No. I ordered a simple coffee just to see her longer and when she handed it over to me, I felt her soft and innocent hands touching my rough and ruthless ones. I was wearing a mask so she didn’t notice me but she was hiding her pain really well with her sweet smile.”

“But her eyes were telling something else.” Mingi turns towards Yeosang on hearing his response.

Everyone is feeling guilty that they are the reason you are working all alone there and having the pain inside you which your eyes reflect enough to let them know how you are feeling. They have been with you long enough to know every detail of your actions, to read your emotions from afar, to know if you are happy or to realize that you are hiding something then why. Why did they misunderstood you back then and left you all alone helpless?

“I want to see her. Take me there, just tell me which café is that exactly and I will be on my way there.”

“San, calm down. Take it slow. I know that you are eager to meet her like we all are but we can’t just go there like this. You know what we did back that day. I don’t think, she would want to see us again.”

If they had this much power in their hand to erase that day or to change the situation that occurred that day then they would have done long way back but now its impossible to do so. It’s been three years that they have left you but when their mission in this new country led them to cross your path again, they are not going to leave this chance out of their hand. Searching you for so long and not getting any sight of you has made their life a disaster. Hongjoong has been drinking a lot since he found out that he had done wrong with you and not a single member of his gang can control his vigorous nature but being the leader of the uprising mafia gang, he has to control his limits to not let the opposition know his weakness. Yunho is not better than him here, being the fighter of the group, he is overdoing and exhausting himself just because he can’t get you out of his mind and showing his anger on others. Well, Seonghwa needs to be calm here as being the eldest, he finds this as his responsibility to check if his members are doing okay and him being the second in command has to be with the leader most of the time. But the question is how can he just pretend that he doesn’t think about you, his thoughts are always storming inside his head which are revolving around how to get you back. San is restless, he is almost every time being out of the house doing illegal shits without even informing the leader and just messing up things, which sometimes almost bring them to face a hectic situation but thanks to Wooyoung who is always there to save him but what about himself. He is the one who would show his emotions up his sleeves but when it comes to get you back, he is lost in a void. He doesn’t even know whether to be angry, upset, mad or just forget about you. Forget about you? Is it even possible? Mingi is always out of the base, he has taken upon himself to look out for the targets and engaging with the spies all around to know the motives of other gangs and be prepared but one thing is always flashing to him, thoughts of you. Jongho has kept himself silent for most of the times, away from his members and just trying his way to find out where you are. Are you even alive? He is always there to bug Yeosang to find you in every corner of their hometown but you were nowhere to be found and once they had lost all hope of you being alive. Yeosang has taken the job of being hacker too seriously and that just to find you till the last cell of his data but everytime, he is just getting disappointed.

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

“Thank you for your order. Have a great night ahead.”

You smile sweetly towards the customer who just left the café and its almost nine at night so you should get prepared to leave for the night. You are always the last worker to leave on the busy scheduled day as you live just few houses away from here and the manager is too sweet to even let her guard accompany you to reach your house. She once requested you to do the extra night shifts on busy days as other workers live bit far away and you could be much helpful to her. She has this warm motherly aura and so you couldn’t reject her request.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry that you had to stay back late again. It’s Halloween season and you know how people are crowding over here.” Your manager having a guilty expression on her face approaches you.

“Oh no, it’s really fine with me. I can keep my mind off with some stuffs while working here so it’s not a big problem. I rather enjoy being here than staying at home and overthinking.”

“You are so sweet. You should take some leaves and rest for few days as I haven’t seen you taking leaves or going out with someone. Don’t waste your young age everytime working here. Have some enjoyment and refresh your mind.”

“Working here gives me the happiness. I don’t think being with someone can actually refresh my mind or rather haunt me…..Nevermind, you must go back as your son is waiting for you and after getting everything back to it’s place, I will hand over the keys to Mr.Lee.”

Nodding her head and waving at you, she rode back to her place leaving you and Mr. lee, who must be in the locker room getting his stuff and later waiting for you outside.

Arranging all the stuffs, it took twenty minutes as your other co-workers had almost done everything before leaving and the previous orders were simple so you didn’t have much to do. Picking up your bag from the counter, you give a final glance to the place to make a mental note if everything is fine. Satisfied with the result, you quickly went outside to see him already standing and waiting for the keys but he is looking impatient.

“Are you fine, Mr.Lee?”

“U-uh yeah…” sweats visibly lining the forehead and lips quivering. Why is he sweating in this cold night?

“If you need help, please do tell me.”

“Actually, I need to leave early… my daughter needs some help and she has just now called me so I think I cant go with you today.”

“Its fine with me. I can manage on my own, its just few steps and I will be home so don’t worry and leave. I hope your daughter is fine.”

He thanked you several times and left. Like always, your smile is still having that warmth even in this chilly night. Your hands rub your arms and you start walking towards your block. Everything is like usual until you start to feel someone is following you but waving it off as if it must be your fear of walking alone without him. Also, it’s Halloween and anything creepy can happen. Even the children’s pranks are creepier than ghosts. You quicken your steps, hands gripping the bag tightly.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you almost had screamed when another hand pressed over your mouth, shutting you up and muffling your scream. Your eyes closed tight and hands trying to remove the palm from over your mouth.

“Y/N. Don’t be afraid, it’s me.”

You froze. Not due to the chilly wind just blew past you but because of the very familiar voice. Familiar? You don’t think it has that same familiarity like before. Every morning, this used to be the first voice you would listen while waking you up and engulfing you in a big bear hug. That’s past as now you are used to being wake up with your alarm or nightmares. Just a reminder, he is the part of causing that nightmare.

Parting your eyes, you can see the tall man standing in front of you. Looking down at you with a soft look on his face, teary eyes and hands slowly slip down from your mouth to your biceps to hold them firmly. The street is brightly lit due to the decorations for the occasion so everything is very clear for your eyes. You stare back at him and not knowing how to react as your body and mind is going against each other but you know a little part of your heart still beats for him, for them.

He is about to pull you in for a hug when you stop him with your hands pressed over his chest, preventing him from coming any closer.

“Y/N….”

“Stop it. You should not just hug randomly someone. You may know me but sorry I can’t really remember you.”

“Random? You are my angel. I want to hug you and say sorry for what I have done. Don’t pretend that you don’t know me, please tell me you have missed me equally.”

“Look, you must have mistaken me with someone else but I’m not her.”Pushing his hands off from you, “Even if I know your name doesn’t mean I know you, you are just like the rest of the customers in my daily life whose name I have to hear often. So it’s nothing special and as I don’t hear your name anymore maybe I would forget it forever.”

“Y/N!”

You make a ‘tsk’ sound on hearing him shout your name. Even if they pretend to be polite or gentle with you, they are the ruthless uprising mafia gang so what do you even expect less from them while controlling their aggression?

“This is you. Shout on me. Blame on me. but. Don’t show your kindness to me again. You have literally showed your true colors that day and look here we are. Standing face to face and you still shouting on me just like that day. You are still the same, Yunho.”

Hearing his name coming out of your mouth after three years is sending a wave of warmth to his heart. Atleast, you called him by his name even though your words are straight away piercing his heart like a sharp knife, you haven’t spoken to him like this ever but he knows he deserves it for leaving you that day.

A black SUV comes to a stop near to a side of you both. If it were any other time, you swear you would have got frightened but the raging veins with hatred towards him is not minding any danger surrounding you. You didn’t look at it’s direction but can hear several footsteps are nearing you. Why are you not scared? Is it because you are feeling safe in his presence? No, it’s just you don’t want to be saved or show your weakness, atleast in front of him.

“Doll.”

Don’t turn back. You are just imagining things. He can’t be hear even yunho is not here, right? You want to believe this but the presence behind you is too near you, his warm hands placed over your shoulder sending a jolt through your body. It may be warm but is lacking the warmth, you can only feel the coldness of feelings there. Turning around, you look into the eyes of Mingi, who just called you with the name he gave you on your first date with him.

Okay, so everyone is here. All the eyes are just looking at you, only you. If it was something back in those days then you would have become shy and hide behind Yunho and not look at them but this time, your daring eyes precisely staring back at them. Their eyes filled with regret meeting your eyes filled with hatred.

“Why are you all here?”

“For you.” Hongjoong replies quickly enough and this made you raise your brow.

The scene is like a deja-vu, very similar to the last time you had seen them. Them circling you under the night sky and you are the centre of the situation but that time, they had that rage in their eyes for blaming you and hoping you to vanish from their eyesight but this time, they have the fear…of losing you again.

“it’s not funny. If you all are going to have some Halloween pranks on people then go somewhere else, don’t waste my time.”

“It’s really not funny and also not a prank. We are really here for you.”Hongjoong said calmly.

“And? You got to see me. You needed to know if I’m alive or not and now you might kill me as I already know a lot of your things and it’s dangerous for you all to keep me alive. Go ahead, shoot me.”

“Y/n, are you insane? How can you think like this that we will shoot you?”

“San, it’s very obvious from the way you were pointing the gun to my forehead with fire in your eyes.” You point to the middle of your forehead with two fingers. They would have found your acts childish but your tone is too harsh for their ears, making it obvious how much hatred you have towards them.

The said man fidgeting his fingers, looking down and a single tear escapes his eyes. The tear of losing you. You are so near to him, just few feet away where he can run to you and hug you tightly and pull you in for a kiss yet so far away because of the way, your eyes glaring at him.

Mingi moves aside when Hongjoong comes in front of you, “Princess-“

“Don’t call me that when you don’t know how to treat one. I’m not your princess. Well, I’m no one to you.”

No one to him and this word burns his heart. Not only his but others too. Still he tried to speak to you.

“Whatever happened that day, we are really guilty for that. We are extremely sorry to treat you that way. I don’t know what happened to me and I put the blame on you, thinking it was your plan, everything I had lost that day was because of me and I lost you but trust me, each day I have spent regretting for this. Please forgive me. Please.”

He is no more holding back his tears, being a leader is a great responsibility and controlling his emotions in every situation is the major part but you were always there with him by his side where he could express himself, to show his vulnerable self to you but this time instead of comforting him, you are mocking back at him.

“Are you crying because of regret or losing your mission that day? I’m sure it’s about the shitty mission or what else-”

Yunho turns you around harshly and this time you can see his flaming eyes, “Are you making fun of him? What happened to you really? You have totally changed. This is not Y/N, we knew back then.”

“Exactly, this is not your Y/N anymore. This is me. An orphan who lives alone in this block and works by the café down the street. Also, not nice to meet any of you.”

You give him a blank expression. His grip on you tightens and you just stare at the hold, hissing but not telling him to leave you. Why? Because you want to feel him. No. You want to see how much he can lose control on you and the physical pain is nothing compared to the mental pain, you have gone through the years.

“Please come back to us. We are here to take you back, to your home, our home.”

Seonghwa. Please don’t speak like that. He is a siren for this because even if you want to hate him, his voice is always as if lurking you to trust him, his words which are still soothing to your ears, remembering those feather kisses. No. They are pinching you like a thorn just like your words are doing to his heart.

“There is nothing called ours. My place is here and nowhere else. I guess you don’t know the meaning of a home. Home is somewhere you can feel warmth and comfort, a forgiving atmosphere to erase your pain into happiness. But the place you are mentioning is a prison to me, hearing the name suffocates me, the memories haunt me. Atleast, here, I’m okay by myself, far away from you all but still nothing is a home to me.”

“Why are you saying like this? Please don’t push us away when we just got you back.”

“So? I should forgive you all and get back to you. Never. This is not happening ever.”

You walk towards him, his ears perk up hearing your heels nearing him, Yunho has left his grip on you but his hands aching to touch you again. The memories of you both spending nights together with warm skin against skin, hushed promises surrounded by the burning love but now even if your skin is warm, the touch was cold with numb feelings.

You pull the strap of Seonghwa’s jacket and other hand block his hand which he was about to raise and swiftly pull the gun out, pointing it towards his forehead. Others come to a warned position.

“If I shoot you here and wait enough to bleed you to death.” You turn to look back at them, their surprise faces looking back at you but no one daring to step forward. “Then if I say, please forgive me. Will it be worthy?”

“But…but we didn’t hurt you. We…we just….” San doesn’t know how to complete his sentence. He is lost within his own words. Seeing you after years, your coldness towards them, even pointing gun towards one of their member and remembering how you and him were in the same position last time causing his hands shake. So ironic for a mafia member. No matter how strong they are, how ruthless they can be but when it comes to you, you are their weakness.

“It’s not always hurting someone physically. Their way of act towards you speaks volume and the words you told me while pointing the gun is way more painful than if you would have actually shoot me.” Turning, towards Seonghwa, “You have already killed me that day. I am dead for you.”

“Baby, please don’t say like this.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I’m nothing to you all? Stop calling me names.”

Wooyoung’s eyes go wide on hearing your shout. He is so much taken aback by your outburst that he is almost looking helpless towards Mingi standing near him.

“I’m sorry…I mean…please don’t say like this. You are everything to me, to us. You don’t know how messed up we were when we left you. I’m so sorry to leave you but please atleast lets forget about that incident and please come back to us.” Wooyoung stutters but not again using the endearment.

Mingi chirps in, “Human can may make mistakes. Whatever happened that day, we know it was not your fault, it was a mistake and we really forgive you for that. I’m sorry for being harsh on you.”

“Yes. We are really guilty. We should have listened to you but rather we blamed you on the spot and said such harsh words which even if I want to take back, I can’t. I didn’t let you to explain but ended up on a conclusion.” Wooyoung ends the sentence with tears spilling from his eyes silently.

Do you forgive them? Yes. but Why? They are still telling you it was your mistake. You cant forgive them so. No.

“So you still think that it happened because of my mistake? It was an accident?”

“Y/n…”

“Stop it, Yunho. Don’t speak a single word. I’m getting annoyed with you.”

Your steps come to a stop in front of Wooyoung whose eyes are shining to get you so close to him. He raises his hands but got yanked away by you. Maintaining a straight eye contact with him, you grab his collar.

“look at me and say that it was my mistake. It all happened because of me.”

He remained silent. He parts his lips but nothing coming out and this is making you impatient.

“Tell me!”

Hot tears streaming down your eyes. Still your body is not getting enough warmth and craving for it during the cold night in that lonely street. Even if you are with all of them still you are feeling alone. Your vision is getting blurred but you roughly rubbed your eyes with the sleeves of the shrug. Your breathings are getting heavy and you are losing control.

The youngest pulls away Wooyoung from your hold and holds your red hands in his grip which are shaking due to the tight fist.

“Please, calm down. It’s me Jongho. It’s not your fault. No one is blaming you. Take deep breathes and calm down.”

He knows that you are hyperventilating and he still knows how your body is reacting and you hate this. You harshly pull your hands away from his hold.

“Don’t touch me. My body aches when I remember how I let you monsters to touch me, everywhere, every day. I’m feeling so ashamed of myself. Don’t make me regret more. I hate the fact how you still know this about my body and am beyond surprised that you still remember me. Oh wait, you have to remember every detail of your enemy before plotting a nice plan and attacking them, right? And today is the perfect day.”

“You are not my enemy. You are my-“

“Stop. Don’t complete that sentence, Jongho.”

“Don’t speak to him like that, he was not even there during the whole mission, he was in for a quick need for back-end support for Yeosang.”Mingi says in a moderate tone.

“But was there long enough to blame me.”

Hongjoong places a firm hand on Mingi’s shoulder, “No one is blaming you. It was an accident and you didn’t know what to do there.”

“I know that whatever you did was to save yourself and I’m glad that you are fine.”

You stare at Hongjoong for a few moments and then burst out laughing like a maniac. Any other person would have found you weird and commented that you have gone mad. Even they would have made fun of you and teased you that how foolish you looked like while laughing like this.

Frustrated groans and your hands raising to your scalp and you mess your hairs. You are totally acting like a drunk person.

“hongoong, did you hear what he just said? Did you hear everyone? He said that I did that to save me. Huh. To. Save. Me.”

You skip steps towards yeosang and slap him, “You think I have killed Mr. Kim to save myself?”

“Y/n!”

You could barely hear Seonghwa and Yunho’s shout when you grabbed Yeosang’s biceps and shake him. He is shocked not just because you have slapped him but seeing you losing your mind like this and having no control over your actions and he is still thinking that something like this might have happened which cause you to kill Mr.Kim.

“Tell me Yeosang. You think I did it for myself? Tell me.”

Nothing he said in reply, just stared right back at you, the only thought running through his mind is to hug you and say that he won’t be leaving you again. He would protect you from the whole world. His daily searching to get your location was always in vain and he still can’t believe his eyes that you are standing in front of him but your eyes showing the amount of hatred in you for him. a helpless cry audible to his ears to which he was deaf during last time.

“So, you do think it is.”

You take a few steps back, staring back at each of them. San tried to come near you but Yeosang stopped him and shook his head.

“I…I did it…I killed him…It was not an accident.” You look up to the sky and smile to yourself, “I did it to save my family. I shoot him to save you all from his evil planning. You all were my family and I tried my best to face him, my hands were shaking, head was spinning. I couldn’t place the actions and words right in place but I knew I had to do it to save you all.”

“save us?” Hongjoong asks you in surprise.

You chuckle sadly, “Your beloved dad had only invited you to the party so that he could destroy you and your gang. He realized that you are not his own son and Jungwoo is his real son so to give him all the power, it was a better option to erase you from the path. I got to know this because Jungwoo told me and he didn’t want to support his dad in this way and somehow mr.Kim tried to kill me when he heard that I wont let you join the party.”

“That’s why…that’s why…you were whining to spend time with us and cancel the schedule.”

You nod on Jongho’s statement.

“I didn’t know how to stop you so before I could come up with a plan, you were already in your way to catch your target at the party held by Mr.Kim. And…and…when I tried to follow you all, he caught me and poisoned me.”

“Why did he poison you?” Wooyoung almost shout hearing this.

“He wanted to see you all going down first seeing me die and then it would be fun to end you. He really succeeded here.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho asks you slowly. You glance towards him but nod a bit.

Picking up your bag which is lying on the floor because of the previous commotion, you look down and tears flowing continuously, “even when I was poisoned, I escaped from the room and when I reached the scene, you were already in the middle of the bloody scene with your target. He was going to leave the place and would leave you all dying in the bomb blast and that’s how I thought it was best to kill him.”

“You didn’t tell that you were poisoned, we thought you were acting of feeling sick.” Even though Seonghwa confessed what he did feel right back then still he is feeling guilty towards you. You stare right back into his eyes.

“When I shot him in front of you all, Hongjoong snatched the gun from me and you harshly pulled me towards the exit and then it went on with you all blaming me.” You cast a glance towards San, “you pointed the gun at me and threatened me to kill if I don’t spill whose spy I was. You even doubted me with Jungwoo that we were cheating behind you and it was our plan to destroy you.”

Huh. Such cheap thought they had. They all blamed you and called such names and even threatened to kill you. It was not enough that they even insulted you in front of everyone present in the party even tried to prove your imaginary relation with Jungwoo.

“I’m sorry…”

“Mingi. Say sorry to Y/N who was trying to explain everything to you all, who was enduring the pain of spreading poison in her body and was still trying to protect you. Go hug her and pull towards you and say everything is okay, whose hands were shaking because she never killed anyone in her life before despite you all trained her in every field for her self-defence. Go and listen to her and ask her. Are you fine?”

He can’t match your eyes so he looks down regretting his every move, you throw a dirty look at him yet somewhere your eyes showing a little bit of sympathy. Your body still reacting to their touch and wanting to run to their embrace making you hate yourself.

“You can’t go. She is dead. Your Y/N is dead. Congratulations, you have killed her that day. You have killed a new life with her as well. She didn’t even get to know who her father is. Mission completed Boss.”

You stare straight and boldly towards Hongjoong.

“Her? Father? What are you saying?” Yeosang is impatient on hearing such things from you. He is confused just like the others and their heart is racing whereas yours is calm but painfully beating.

“I have lost my first baby and one of you lost the honour of being the father for the first time. It was too late when I woke up in the hospital, the poison had already been spread too much. I don’t know how I am still alive but maybe atleast Jungwoo didn’t leave my side.”

It was a big storm for them. As if the ground disappeared from underneath their feet. You were pregnant and they were unaware of it. If only they had agreed with your warnings, then they would have been having a happy family time with you and their baby together. No matter whose baby she was, she would have been theirs, they all would have given their fatherly love to her.

Without saying any more word, you begin to walk towards your way and didn’t even look back for the last time towards them.

“Y/N…”You heard wooyoung calls you from behind and they might follow you.

Still facing your back towards them, you speak slowly but audible enough for them, “Don’t follow me or come to find me again. You have left me that day, helplessly crying in the garden. Don’t expect me to forgive you and go back to you again.”

You walk away, far away from them where your silhouette getting lost in the painful dark but they know atleast you are safe and alive beyond that darkness. Their eyes follow the last bit of your presence.

They won’t be giving up on you like this. They will get you back someday but they also know that they have lost a part of you forever.

“I love you but I have lost you.”

PART 2

Perma Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @eriny123 @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon [open!]

[oswildin]

DOMESTIC!LOKI X ND!PARTNER HEADCANNONS

NOTE: please note this is based on my own experiences with being autistic. no neurodivergent person is the same, and everyone’s experiences are different.

Oh, he has a SOFT spot for you, like so soft that it makes even him want to vomit (but he loves it)

He loves that you maybe think a little differently to others. It makes him consider things he hadn’t before. You always make him wonder

He does his best to explain things thoroughly, clearly and slowly, even showing you if needed. He always makes time for you

If he sees you are getting overwhelmed or overstimulated, he’s quick to try and help any way he can - conjuring earphones (he always keeps in his pocket dimension just incase), using his magic to dim the lights or draw the curtains, trying to redirect your attention to something else

If you’re in a busy, noisy place like a supermarket, he will always be watching closely, staying close, even guiding you with a hand on the small of your back in a comforting gesture

Need time alone? Oh yeah, he’s giving you sad puppy dog eyes, but allows you your space, knowing how important it is

Conjures illusions of stars on the ceiling, nebulas, fireworks, anything he thinks you’ll enjoy and keep you calm

Can’t leave the house? No worries, Loki has already cleared your schedule and is busy making your favourite food

Speaking of favourite foods, he always makes sure you have enough stock of your favourite brands/specific snacks. And if one store doesn’t have them, he will go to the next… and the next… maybe even another to make sure he can acquire them for you

Will gladly stroke your hair, your arm, back, wherever he can to help keep you relaxed and happy

Loki can always tell when you’re close to burning out, and makes it his mission to try and ease the blow of it

He set alarms on your phone - when he worked out how - for when you have things to do or tablets to take or anything he thinks you may forget. (He tried post-it notes, but realised they didn’t work, becoming apart of the furniture)

He finds you hilarious. He never laughs at you, it’s always with you, he is never unkind

He also finds you very endearing, how could he not?

Now, if you are having a meltdown, he always asks what he can do, never assuming. He knows sometimes you don’t like to be touched, and sometimes that’s what you need to ground you. He knew it wasn’t the same everytime, and would always follow your guidance

He also knows that he needs to let it happen. Of course, he ensures you don’t hurt yourself, but he understands that you physically need to get out your emotions to feel balanced, less overwhelmed. He never judges you, and unless you want to talk about it, he doesn’t press the matter

If someone ever makes a slight comment or joke about you, oh boy, they better start running

He’s fiercely protective. But he also knows you aren’t a child that needs coddling. But he will always be there to fight your corner

He even will rewatch your favourite shows or films with you, over and over, even reciting some of the dialogue with you, just happy to see you happy

Loki also will listen when you speak excitedly and passionately about your interests, trying his best to remember as much as he can, even though sometimes he struggles when your fixation changes quickly

He takes the lead in social situations, after all he loves the attention, letting you speak when you feel comfortable, but will also involve you subtly and gently to ease you into the conversation

Mirroring! He will gladly mirror you if you need to do something, anything to spend time with you

In short, he thinks you are a complex, wonderful, brilliant person, who is witty, kind and misunderstood by most people. He relates to you because he too has been misunderstood by others, and he finds comfort in having someone else who knows how it feels, even if he wishes you don’t know how it feels

He knows your struggles are very real, and never judges, never belittles, and loves you no matter what kind of day you are having

[noraigo]

some days ago, i started watching we are the series, since a friend of mine tried to convince me for a long time to tune in. we are isn’t exactly the type of series i would watch. not disregarding its charm, i must admit it’s even endearing, i’m just more keen on the angsty, adult queer love. however, there’s a certain couple that’s been running nonstop in my mind ever since i started the series and, of course, it’s no other than tan and fang.

tan is certainly unique as a whole, because if anything — i think it’s the first time i see such a loud but not annoying character, and that’s hard to portray. his excitement seems genuine all the time and i feel his happiness is shared through the screen. that doesn’t brush off his emotional intelligence and i think people underestimate this trait of his: just because he seems silly and party-loving doesn’t mean that he is insensible. he can be serious if it’s needed and he cares for the people around him. it’s safe to say that cheerful characters are often overlooked because of it and, as viewers, we shouldn’t take it for granted.

fang, on the other side, is the total opposite of him, yet it doesn’t make him less interesting. his background is implied to be unstable, which made both phum and fang be more closed off emotionally speaking. even so, fang is trying his best to be on the same page as tan, though tan adores him when he’s serene and quiet. most of the time, characters like fang are misunderstood and it’s a little saddening. he is kind and tough, but it’s not hard to love him. something tan understood from the very beginning.

their dynamics keep me pushing watching the series. now that fang has been softening more and more, their scenes became even lovelier to watch, if that was ever possible; their kisses, clear eyes of infatuation, playful banters and words of love show it. i’m not a fan of sex scenes, they underwhelm me a little (might be the acespec in me), but tanfang’s was just perfect. not too much, not too little. just enough to show that these two desire each other. possibly, it could be not their first time as a couple, which is refreshing and new in thai queer shows as far as i've seen. (aouboom definitely enjoyed kissing and touching each other a little too much but, didn't the same happen with hidden agenda? just saying.)

people like them could be too much for others, but for each other, they are an absolute match. fang knows tan loves him unconditionally and so does tan. tan tries to push him for the better without overstepping his boundaries whilst fang apologizes if his behavior might be irrational when he’s angry and accidentally lashes out on tan. that’s actual respect and patience in a relationship. none of them are trying to change the other to fit their own personality, they have already changed once they realized they were into each other back then when they were problematic teens. ain’t that sweet?

just look at these sweet two blorbos, just in their own world, happy and in love.

on another note, though, i’ve gotten to know aouboom since viceversa era and i could already smell the cute chemistry between both, yet it’s very sad to know they suffer from secondary couple syndrome. how many series have they starred in as a second or even third couple? very unfair, gmmtv, you better give them a nice series, regardless of its length. as long as they don’t keep acting in college settings, i would give my entire scholarship for a coffee shop or any other ordinary plot. they are just THAT good and i will never get tired of their chemistry. they have a kind of spark i see very rarely and if gmm doesn’t give them a shot, they’re losing a potential gem.

please, give us more tanfang content and especially, an aouboom series. thank you very much.

[lostintransist]

The Real Problem With The Trolley

Coffee Shop Meet Cute | Part 3

Part 1 here. AO3

Kyle, as he introduced himself all those weeks ago, took all of twenty minutes to decipher your phone number and send a text to you.

>Would have taken me longer, but humming the ABCs tipped me off.

You read the message from the drop-down menu, not daring to open it and let him know you’ve seen it.

You weren’t bold. Kyle was gorgeous, and frankly, you were plain. You were pleased to be plain, let that not be misunderstood. Avoiding some of the nastier interactions with men but also never being singled out at the club or at a party would always be the curse/blessing of your face. Thinking it over you decide that stereotypes exist for a reason and that you would treat this like a woman in every port kind of situation until proven otherwise. You would chat with him and discuss philosophy and life but would let it go no further than friendship.

>Where did you learn to sign?

His second message appeared while you had been trapped in your thoughts. Taking a deep breath as if you were about to plunge into an icy lake you click reply from the menu.

<Something about the ABCs requires me to hum no matter how old I get. And I learned at uni. HBU?

When the message and reply box disappear you tuck the phone into your pocket and focus on the job you are being paid for. The buzz against your ass makes you jump. Quick bastard replied already. Rolling your eyes you ignore the tug in your brain to check your phone. You refused to get reprimanded for ‘looking at your phone excessively on shift’. Your manager was an asshole who couldn’t cut it at corporate and got sent back down to manage a store.

The shift passed in the slowness that only a retail job can manage. The journey home, thankfully just a single bus ride, gave you time to dip into Kyle’s messages. You cleared chats and videos from friends before opening his.

>Learned with the rest of my team. We use sign a lot on jobs and during training to communicate.

>Why do you study philosophy? Sounds like you’ve finished uni at this point.

A few hours later he sent another message.

>What are your thoughts on the trolley problem?

You reply to his messages out of order but figure if he isn’t smart enough to match them up keeping up a text chain would be harder than you cared for.

<I think the trolley problem misses the big questions.

<I am done with uni, graduated last spring but can’t find a job that cares about the paper I paid for.

< I like using my brain, feels like a good way to fight back against all the evil I see.

His reply comes in as you are stepping into the flat you share with your three other roommates.

>What questions should we be asking about the trolley problem?

You pause after shutting and locking the front door, shoes, and bag still on.

<First off who the hell owns these tracks? Secondly, how the hell did so many people get tied to them? Don’t tracks get checked regularly for safety?

You slip off both shoes and fire off one more message.

<It seems like we are so focused on who gets to live or die in the trolley problem that we aren’t asking who put us in that situation in the first place.

With that,t you lock your phone and set about the task of showering and finding something to eat after your long ass day.

Coffee Masterlist | Masterlist

@soldierservant I didn't know if I was going to make more of this but since I did I figured I would tag you once and if you want to get notified when more of these drop you LMK.

[gloriousburden]

Just saw gifs of the variant’s outfit in the finale.. day = ruined. Please it’s so ugly and I hate the reasoning behind it so badly they’re always trying to strip Loki of who he is and it’s so sad like so what if he wants to wear the attire of his home realm where he is also royalty mind you 😞 now I have to go on a rant..

Not only was he stripped of his personality but also of anything that represented him. How anyone who claims to love Loki can tolerate this series, I have no idea. It was written by people who do not like Loki, or his fans. Like okay so the diminishing of Loki’s character is alright just because they put a scene of him crying for one episode while also skipping over the major event he previously went through to go on and talk about other characters and their struggles oh don’t piss me off.

The whole concept fucking pisses me off from the get go. I do not care about an alternate version of Loki. I think series fans fail to realize that our dislike of the series does not only lie with the mischaracterization. It also lies with the entire concept of the series. Loki had already existed for a decade before the series came out, and his own story was left unfinished. Why would I care about an alternate version of him from the Avengers (immediately before he was able to go through his most important character development in TDW btw) when he couldn’t even be written consistently after 2013?

Loki fan to Loki “fan”, I don’t care how much merch you have. I don’t care if you’ve met Tom multiple times. I don’t care if you’ve watched the movies (but I mean if they actually did, I figure something would click eventually) every single day. If you truly believe that the series did justice to Loki’s character as well as respected the previous writer’s work that implemented and laid down the definitive traits and aspects of his character for years only for them to get overlooked and completely erased in a few episodes a decade later, you do not love Loki. You are not a fan.

There are so many series diehards that have SO much merch or have met Tom like 30 times and it boggles my mind. Like you don’t even like Loki enough to see the difference of his characterization from 2011 to 2013 (or even fucking Ragnarok at this point. He still had at least a few aspects of who he is in it. I hate to defend it because it did him wrong as well, but I’ve got to be honest) vs in this this garbage ass series that bears his name, but does nothing except diminish it. Why be so invested financially in something you cannot think critically about? How do you not like… sense the difference?

I’ve also met Tom and have a LOT of merch. Is that what makes me a fan? No, Because what makes me a fan is my love for Loki and my dislike of the ignorance towards his character. I’m not saying this towards casual fans who enjoyed the series and bought a funko pop. Like i really don’t give a fuck and I’m not expecting them to know anything about Loki. But I’d expect better from people who claim to be his fans.

In 2021 when the series first came out, I was critical from the beginning. I did not like the concept, and also didn’t really trust marvel with doing anything good with Loki. When I watched that first episode, I just knew it was over from the first few minutes or so. And I was a fairly new fan of Loki!! Like how could anyone accept this bullshit? Also I could’ve swore so many more people disliked it then. I’ll never forget it lol my entire TikTok FYP was just people shitting on the episodes each week. Especially the finale. They were like “yeah guys uh.. Maybe it’ll get better.” Then the finale came out and everyone flipped LOL

I don’t care if people think I’m harsh for saying any of this. You straight up are not a Loki fan if you’re a fan of the series. You like the idea of him maybe, but you don’t like him for who he truly is and that’s sad because neither did the characters around him. Misunderstood in canon as well as by his own “fans” it’s so over.

Oh also notice how series fans pretty much never talk about TDW. They cannot comprehend an MCU project that takes place directly after the Avengers and actually does Loki’s character right. Lmfao.

Loki “fans” if they were forced to actually enjoy his character in canon instead of only in fanon for one second:

They’d be so surprised that he dares to stick up for himself, and has a fucking personality and motives of his own.

[findingblissinignorance]

I'll Be Home for Christmas

Hello @lady-halibuts-chambers! I am your Holiday Harbinger for @masseffectholidaycheer! I wanted to try to write something kind of sweet and fluffy for Grace Ryder and Vetra. I hope you enjoy it!

On Ao3

Rating: G

“Vetra? Are you here?” Grace Ryder looked around the empty cargo bay of the Tempest. They were between missions right now, taking a well earned break before flying out again, and it was strange seeing it this way. Empty. Quiet. Cold. It was hard to believe this was the same ship that had been their first home here in Andromeda. It was still her home, technically. Even after everything with Meridian, she still hadn’t settled in a place in Andromeda that she could call her own. She was still learning to breathe again, learning to let herself be more than just Pathfinder Ryder. 

 “Helloooo?” She called out again to no immediate response. Maybe she had misunderstood the message. Drack did seem a little - and by little, she meant entirely - uninterested in being the messenger. He had been grumbling something about his retirement and being too old for this. This, of course, was a sentiment that never stopped him from fighting and was always just an excuse to get him out of doing things that he didn’t want to do. Either way, perhaps he had given her the wrong time by mistake. 

“Ryder!” Vetra Nyx’s voice drifted down from the floor above. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.” A moment later, the ship’s power cut on, light and noise bringing the Tempest closer to her usual self. As the ship grumbled back to life, the turian woman the voice belonged to finally appeared, looking over the railing down at her. “Hey there, Grace.” Just the simple greeting was enough to make Ryder’s heart flutter in her chest. 

It was a simple, unintentional, reminder that maybe to most people she was Pathfinder Ryder, but to Vetra, her love, she didn’t have to be anything other than Grace.

“Hi, Vetra.” Grace was already pressing up on her toes as Vetra descended the ladder, eager to give her girlfriend a kiss. When Vetra reached her, she happily obliged and held Grace close to prolong the kiss. When Grace finally pulled away, she rocked back onto her heels to smile up at the other woman, taking a moment to appreciate her. Vetra was in her casual clothes with a bag slung over her shoulder and, in Ryder’s opinion, looking as beautiful as ever. “How are you?”

“I’m good! Very good. Great, actually.” There was a nervous energy about Vetra that instantly piqued Ryder’s curiosity. She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t prod just yet. Instead, she let Vetra link their fingers together and start leading the way.

“For a second there, I thought maybe I was getting stood up.” Grace gave her hand a squeeze. 

“Please, you know I would never do that." Vetra returned the squeeze, her mandibles twitching in amusement. “It’s just… I was finishing something up.” She was leading Grace towards the front of the ship and while Grace was searching for any clues that might tell her why Vetra was acting so strangely, there was nothing that immediately betrayed the cause. The bag would probably be her best bet, but Vetra had a tight hold on it. A direct approach would have to do.

“Are you alright? You seem a little… anxious.” 

“No, I’m fine!”  Grace’s disbelief at the obvious lie must have been clear because Vetra immediately began to backtrack. “Well, okay yes, I guess. Technically, I am a little anxious. I have a surprise for you and I want you to like it. That’s all.”

“What? Vetra!” Grace stopped her with a light tug on her arm. “You’ve already done so much for me!”

“And you’ve done so much for me.” Vetra’s let go of her hand to caress Grace’s face gently. “Grace, you almost never do anything for yourself and I like to do things for you. Let me spoil my girlfriend, okay? You deserve it.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I can allow it. Mostly because it means spending more time with you.” Grace laughed softly, tilting her head to lean into Vetra’s touch.

“Good. I’m glad you like spending time with me. I like spending time with you too.” There was a low grumble behind her words and not for the first time, Grace found herself a little weak at the knees. Vetra leaned down for one more kiss before resuming their walk. “Besides, I would really hate it if I had to force you to accept my gifts.” 

“I’ll let you keep doing things for me, as long as you don't cook steak again. Honestly, I don’t think anyone deserves that.” Grace fought back a smirk as she looked up at Vetra. “You didn't cook a steak again, right?” 

“No, definitely not.” Vetra laughed and Grace couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit relieved. “I have learned my lesson on attempting human food, don’t worry.” They didn’t have too much further to walk as Vetra stopped them outside of the Pathfinder’s quarters. “Okay, I want you to close your eyes.”

“See, now I don’t know if I believe you about the steak. This is exactly what happened when you tried to cook me dinner. I’m getting flashbacks.” Grace teased and Vetra’s head tilted back in exasperation. 

“It’s not that bad! I promise!” There was a pause. “Well, I hope not at least. Now, close your eyes. Please.” Ryder did as she was asked. She heard the doors open and Vetra carefully led her into the room. “I know we left the Milky Way and we’ve talked about how Andromeda is our home now, buuuuut I think sometimes it is good to remember where we came from.” 

“Vetra…” Vetra shushed her as she positioned her somewhere in the room. 

“Okay, open your eyes.” 

The first thing Grace noticed was the lights. Hanging from the ceiling, from the walls, from nearly every surface, were lights of what felt like a thousand different colors. It was both the most garish and most beautiful thing Ryder had ever seen. 

Looking past the lights, Ryder was able to see all of the other decorations. There were ribbons tied into messy bows, the fabric clearly scavenged from whatever could be found. There were photos printed out and dangling from the ceiling. She could see photos of her and Vetra, of Scott, of the entirety of the Tempest crew. Her family. On the bed there were two sweaters, one in her size and one that looked like it could fit Vetra. The knitting was messy and clearly not the work of an expert, but there was a valid attempt at making a snowflake in the pattern on each of them. Lastly, by the window there was a tree that was alien to her, but was covered in more lights and bows and baubles. 

“Surprise, it’s Christmas!” Vetra watched Grace as she took in the room. The glow of the lights against her skin and the shine in her eyes alone made all of the work worth it for Vetra. “From my research, this is an old Earth or human tradition. There was a lot of information in the archives about it and most of it made no sense, so I kind of just skimmed through it all. I really liked all of the pictures though. I did my best to recreate it with what was available.” She watched as Ryder reached over to lightly touch the tree. “Careful!” Grace stopped short. “I was careful not to touch it while decorating. I don’t know a lot about that species, it’s native to Andromeda. I tried to get the right kind of tree needed for Christmas, but they only have seeds in storage and they need time to grow.”

“I think SAM would let us know if it was dangerous in some way...”

“It is just a tree.” SAM’s voice filled the room. 

“There you have it.” Grace had focused more on geology in her studies, rather than biology, but scientific curiosity had no bounds. She touched one of the leaves, the texture rough like sandpaper and the color seemed to shift at the touch. She examined the tree closer, but was soon snapped back to the present by Vetra’s voice.

“So, what do you think?” Vetra asked and Grace looked around the room again. 

“This is… it’s really gorgeous, but you know I've never been to Earth, right? That and my family didn't really… I don’t know. We didn’t celebrate Christmas.” Grace tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We didn’t exactly have a lot of traditions if I’m honest.”

“Shit. I knew this was a terrible idea.” Vetra groaned as she sat on the bed. “I really need to stop surprising you. It never works out how I hope it will.” 

“Hey, no. Vetra.” Grace quickly kneeled in front of her. “I love it. Really. The decorations are gorgeous and the photos? It’s such a sweet touch. It’s amazing, you did a great job.” She took Vetra’s hands in hers and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. “Anyway, we can make it our own tradition. Keep the things we like, toss the things we don’t. A new holiday for a new home.”

“Can we keep the lights though?”

“Absolutely we can keep the lights, I love the lights.” Grace chuckled. “Thank you for this, really.”

“It’s just a small thing, I called in a few favors, that's all.”

“I believe we once said, 'it’s the small things that keep us going'.” Grace reached over to grab one of the sweaters as she went to sit on the bed as well. “Besides. I really want to see you wearing this. Who made this?”

“One of the captives Sid helped save is apparently an amateur knitter. In exchange for getting them access to yarn, they made these.” Vetra helped Grace put hers on before getting assistance with her own. Looking down she grumbled softly aside. “They weren’t kidding when they said amateur.” 

“It looks great.” Grace laughed happily and Vetra leaned in to nuzzle her lightly.

“So you’re happy then? I did okay?” There was that soft rumble again. Grace closed her eyes content in that moment of closeness. 

“You did more than okay, I promise.” She pulled away so she could look at Vetra for the next part. “I love it and I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Vetra sat back a little more. “There is a second part.” She grabbed the bag from where she had placed it next to her and pulled out a poorly wrapped box. “I know that there are presents involved with this whole Christmas thing, so I got you something.” 

“The point is to exchange gifts. I’ll have to get you something in return, you know.” Still, Grace smiled as she pulled the box toward her. She carefully unwrapped the paper and set it aside before looking in the box. Resting inside was a datapad. She read a few sentences before looking up. “Vetra… What is this?”

“It’s our home. Well… a promise for our home. I worked with Tann and Addison to make sure we would have a permit to get a plot of land anywhere we wanted, within reason of course. I didn’t choose anywhere yet because I didn’t want to make the decision without you.” Grace could see Vetra’s nerves clearly now as she wrung her hands together. This had been the part she was most worried about, as though Grace would ever dream of saying no to moving in with the woman she loved. “I thought, your duties as a Pathfinder are getting easier and that maybe… well, maybe it would be nice for us to be able to have a home to go to.” 

“Oh, Vetra.” Grace pressed her forehead against Vetra’s. It took her a moment to get a hold of the emotions threatening to overtake her. Grace Ryder, the one who always knew how to mask her emotions, was all of a sudden unable to. “There’s nothing I want more.” There was a small break in her voice that made her laugh. “I can’t wait to start a new home with you.”

Grace Ryder hadn’t joined the Initiative with any expectations of home or love; honestly she had no expectations for a life of her own. She had joined out of duty to her father, out of a need to make him happy. Coming to Andromeda had led to loss and trauma and struggle, but it also led to so much more. Grace had been able to find this home, to find Vetra and to be able to make new traditions with the one she loved… it was a gift, one that she would cherish for a long time. 

[quakinqueer]

Yay! This is great!! Please donate if you can! Here's the QR code you can use to do that!

But also, I have some thoughts.

(as always, please do not engage if all you want to do is start an argument)

I wanna make one thing and one thing very clear, it is FANTASTIC that he is doing this. Showing actual concrete support and trying to help the cause publicly. Even if he was donating previously (which I've seen people saying but am not certain of), doing it privately is not nearly as impactful or helpful as doing it publicly and rallying your dedicated fan base for the sake of COMMUNITY SUPPORT.

All that to say, much like smosh, he should've been doing things like this for months, but better late than never. It's great that he's actually doing something.

That being said, from a purely PR perspective, doing this without ANY sort of apology to Zayna or acknowledgement of his behavior last week, was not the best move, purely with regards to those who've been expecting and hoping for such a statement, only to get nothing, and then suddenly this; those who are likely going to see this as performative or "damage control". I personally don't agree with this stance at all, but I've already seen ppl on twt claim these things. Admittedly that's more a 'them just having a grudge against damien' problem, but I digress.

(btw I can't believe it's been a full week of this personal hell)

If he did this thinking it would entirely clear his name and absolve him of any wrongdoing, then he clearly misunderstood the situation just as badly as any of his stans did. Showing support is great, now are you going to address the actual situation or just ignore it forever?

Obviously, this is a VERY good thing for him to be doing (I can't emphasize that enough), but frankly, his apology to zayna is still needed and pending, and an acknowledgement, or better yet explanation, of his terrible behavior last week is not *needed* but certainly expected and anticipated.

He did a good thing, awesome, those of you who can please donate. I still think he should've said something first.

(SRSLY THO HOW HARD IS IT TO JUST SAY SORRY LIKE GEEZ MY MAN GET IT TOGETHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING)

At this point, a full week later, it seems silly to still expect an apology or explanation, and I think at this point it's about time to give up. I just- what happened? What happened to the damien that would sooner crawl out of his skin than allow someone to think he had any sort of ill will toward them? What happened to the damien that is supposedly a "recovering people-pleaser" and always takes other's feelings into consideration, often before his own? What happened to the damien who was recently described by a fellow cast member as "not having a mean bone in his body" and across the years has received many similar comments and compliments? Where is he right now??

I'm not AS disappointed as I was to begin with, but I certainly haven't gained any respect for him either (personally).

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood - 53

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 53: The Hunger of Man

AO3 - Masterlist

SMUT!

From his concealed position, Aemond attentively observed as his mother engaged in conversation with Daenera. A growing sense of wariness and apprehension filled the air, the tension between the two women palpable, almost as if one could reach out and touch it. The smoke from the overly sweet incense hung heavily in the air, adding to the already dense atmosphere. 

A growing queue of commoners had begun to form at the base of the stairs, leading up to the dais and altar, their whispers and murmurings filling the expansive space under the domed roof. Beams of sunlight attempted to cut through the smoke-filled air, but the shadows seemed to be holding their ground, refusing to let the light fully illuminate the darkened space. 

Aemond’s gaze then shifted to his lover, Daenera, draped in black attire. Her hair was neatly pinned up, obscured by a heavy black veil. The dress was adorned with silver accents, showcasing a subtle elegance and luxury that didn’t scream for attention but demanded it nonetheless. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances thrown in her direction, as people tried to peek through her veil, attempting to gauge the depths of her sorrow, as she had worn it over her face during the sermon. 

It irked him, the way she flawlessly portrayed the role of a grieving widow. He couldn’t help but wonder–how would she react if she were mourning someone she held dear? Would her grief still be this poised, a carefully crafted performance for those around her? Or would it be raw, violent even, fueled by a rage demanding retribution? Would it be a beast with claws and fangs and a thirst for blood?

Before his brother’s presence became visible, Aemond sensed him approaching. Aegon positioned himself on Aemond’s better side, allowing him a clear view from the corner of his eye. 

“She’s quite the convincing widow, isn’t she?” Aegon commented, his voice laced with a drawl. “Care to know my thoughts on this?”

With a curt response, Aemond replied, “No.”

“I believe the stag uncovered the truth about his delicate doe’s escapades with the dragon. And I suspect the dragon might have silenced the stag to conceal their affair – perhaps with the doe’s consent,” Aegon speculated, his voice taking on a tone of amused malevolence as he picked at Aemond’s dwindling patience. “Regardless of the actual participants, the doe puts on a splendid show of mourning. Yet, it raises the question: how did the stag discover their secret? Clearly, it wasn’t the dragon or the doe that admitted to their wrongdoing.”

Are you suggesting the fool?” Aemond snapped, fixing his brother with a glare, only to receive a typical grimace in return and a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder. 

“The fool assured the dragon he played no part in revealing his secret,” Aegon responded sharply. “I, for one, suspect our lord of the fireflies.”

“You’d do well to mind your words and your surroundings, brother. Your little tales might be misunderstood,” Aemond warned, feeling his annoyance rise like boiling water threatening to overflow. “I am not like you, depraved .”

Aegon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, “Are you entirely certain of that?” His arrogance was palpable, and it seemed to make Aemond’s blood boil even more. “You’re not as decent and moral as you like to think you are. Beneath that veneer, you might find more in common with me than you think, after all, you had an illicit affair with a married woman. What honorable man does that?”

His voice was steady, just loud enough to carry over the loud hum of conversation filling the sept, ensuring their conversation remained private. “At the very least, I don’t seek out pleasure in the brothels or in the fighting pits, delighting in the sight of children being pitted against each other in a fight to the death.”

“They don’t kill each other… Often ,” Aegon countered, his tone casual as if to downplay the gravity of his indulgences, as if there was a moral high ground to be found in the frequency of the bloodshed he delighted in. 

Aemond couldn’t help but think that Aegon’s depravity was akin to that of a mongrel dog’s rabies–incurable and vile. 

Undeterred, Aemond pressed on, the disgust in his voice palpable as he revealed, “And I certainly am not the one who takes pleasure in assaulting the servant girls or finds amusement in debasing myself with wooden phalluses.”

He couldn’t mask the contempt he felt, especially knowing that Aegon’s personal chambers were a testament to his perverse inclinations, littered with wooden phalluses in a display that was nothing short of shameful. Once, he may have been curious of his brother’s depravity, but as he grew, he saw it for what it really was. 

Aegon, however, was unphased, responding with a twisted grin, “Maybe if you tried taking that proverbial stick out your ass and tried something a bit more… unconventional, you might find yourself enjoying life a bit more. I assure you, it’s a whole new world of pleasure.”

His mere words were blasphemous, especially within the sanctity of the sept, and Aemond felt as though the earth would split open and swallow his brother whole. 

“You are utterly repugnant,” Aemond spat out, his growl resonating with the depth of his disdain for his brother's proclivities. 

He cast one last glance towards Daenera, catching a moment where she withdrew her hand from his mother’s grasp and exchanged a few words. He then made his exit, leaving the dim confines of the sept for the sunlight outside. 

Just as Aemond was preparing to mount his horse, the distinct voice of his mother pierced through the air. “Aemond, you will be accompanying your brother and I in the litter.”

Aemond couldn’t hide the scowl that marred his features as he backed away from his horse. He pulled off his leather gloves, tucking them neatly into his sword belt. His mother gracefully made her way into the litter, her dark green gown billowing behind her before she settled inside. 

A sense of unease settled heavily in Aemond’s stomach, feeling akin to a dense stone. With cautious steps, he joined his family in the litter, positioning himself across from his mother and Aegon. Aegon was sprawled in a way that was somewhere between sitting and lying down, his chin rested against his collarbone, exposing the skin beneath his jaw in a rather unflattering manner. His posture and demeanor resembled that of a petulant child. 

Alicent presented the picture of composed elegance as she sat with her hands folded upon her lap, fingers idly twisting the rings on her hand the only indicator of her irritation. Her back maintained an impeccable straightness and her shoulders squared in a posture of regality. Her lips were tightly pursed, showcasing her displeasure, while her eyes, sharp and scrutinizing, tracked Aemond’s movement as he settled into his seat across from her. Only then did they slide to his brother.

As the door was securely closed and locked, the sunlight from outside filtered through the litter’s exquisitely carved openings, causing an elaborate dance of light and shadows through the interior. The intricate patterns played across their clothing as the litter began to move. 

Within the confined space of the litter, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. The air turned hot and sticky, making it difficult to breathe comfortably–though it was far better than the sweet air of the sept. Meanwhile, the sounds from the world outside made themselves known, creating a contrasting ambiance. 

The hustle and bustle of the city, the steady clip-clop of horses’ hooves, and the distant hum of conversations formed a backdrop of noise. Occasionally, the litter would sway roughly, accompanied by the creaking of its frame and the subtle rustle of fabric as its occupants shifted. Despite the cacophony of sounds from the busy streets, the interior of the litter felt eerily silent, the tension within creating a bubble that seemed to mute the outside world, adding to the stifling atmosphere.

“Aegon, would you care to share what you’ve been doing?” Alicent shattered the lingering silence, her voice strained and tense, akin to a bowstring pulled tight, ready to propel an arrow forward. Her fingers fidgeted with her ring, roughly twisting it as a distraction to prevent herself from picking at her skin anxiously.  

Aegon, caught off guard, furrowed his brows in confusion and straightened himself up a bit, his voice coming out as a bewildered echo, “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Have you?” Alicent shot back sharply, her voice carrying a pointed accusation. 

“Well, that depends on what you’re referring to,” Aegon responded, his face betraying his thoughts as Aemond observed him mentally sorting through all the potential issues that could have reached their mother’s ears. He swallowed hard, a frustrated shake of his head indicating his resignation to an impending reprimand.

“It has been brought to my attention–”

“Meaning the lord confessor has been whispering in your ear…” Aegon mumbled quietly, almost to himself, before he clamped his teeth on a nail of his, picking at it. 

“–that the princess has been engaged in an illicit affair,” Alicent finished, choosing to ignore her son’s muttering and pressing forward with her revelation. “And she herself all but confirmed it.”

Baffled, Aegon stopped chewing on his thumb and spat out the sliver of nail he had managed to rip off, and as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in bewilderment. “You believe it is I, she’s been having an affair with?”

“Is it not?” Alicent pressed, her gaze sharp and piercing as she fixed her eyes on her son, seemingly attempting to see straight through him. Her brows set in a stern, accusing manner, reflecting her disbelief and the extent of her incredulity at her son’s supposed foolishness. 

Slowly, Aegon’s gaze shifted to Aemond, his lips curving into a smug smile. He couldn’t hold back his laughter as Alicent’s gaze followed his, her eyes now narrowing in Aemond’s direction.

Aemond could feel the intensity of her disbelief and shock, as if it were a whip cutting through the air to strike at his skin, leaving behind welts and a sharp, sting sensation. His brother’s laughter only added insult to injury, making the moment all the more humiliating. Instinctively, his fingers curled into tight fists, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

“Truly, Mother, for once, your concerns should be directed elsewhere,” Aegon declared, his voice laced with amusement and a touch of irony. 

“Aemond,” she stammered, clearly in shock and taken aback. “Is this true?”

All Aemond could muster was a profound swallow, his back stiffening as he found himself under the intense scrutiny of his mother. He realized there was no other course of action but to acknowledge the truth. “Yes, it’s true.”

“He’s been fucking her!” Aegon chimed in, his tone betraying a sense of gleeful revelation. “For several months now, correct? I’ve been attempting to make you aware, Mother. Your esteemed son has been engaged in illicit activities with the princess, right under our noses.”

As Aegon delighted in the rare situation of not being the target of blame and scorn, the silence that remained between Aemond and his mother grew heavy, saturated with her disapproval and a subtle hint of disappointment. After all, Aemond was the son she had always deemed reliable, the one she believed she could trust above all others. Aemond knew this, and perhaps that is why he felt a deep sense of shame.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Alicent finally erupted, her voice resonating loudly within the confines of the litter. “Think about the implications of your reputation! What will transpire once word of this spreads?”

“Indeed, contemplate the potential damage to your reputation, dear brother,” Aegon jeered, his eyes glittering with spiteful delight. “What had become of the obedient, dutiful son? Tell me, how does it feel to now be the source of disappointment?”

“Aegon, refrain from speaking further,” Alicent sharply interjected, shooting her eldest a stern look that demanded immediate silence. Reluctantly, Aegon conceded, visibly expressing his discontent by folding his arms and rolling his eyes in a gesture of annoyance. Alicent then shifted her focus back onto Aemond, her eyes laden with reproach.

Feeling the oppressive weight of her critical stare, Aemond found himself shifting uncomfortably, unaccustomed to being at the receiving end of his mother’s disapproval like this. His hand involuntarily twitched, dragging the nail of his index finger down the length of his thumb, letting it pick at his callouses. His other hand clenched tighter, causing the bandage wrapped around his palm to tighten. The slight pain served as a reminder, and it eased the weight of his mother’s scorn.

“You instructed me to keep an eye–” Aemond began.

“I certainly didn’t instruct you to sleep with her,” Alicent interrupted, her voice laced with frustration. “My expectation was for you to observe her closely and establish a connection, not to risk everything we’ve been working towards! Should rumors start circulating about your illicit affair with her, just think of the consequences for our family. Did you pause to reflect on how your actions tarnish your name? How does it reflect on us?”

Aegon, unable to resist, muttered a snide comment under his breath, while he idly filled with a loose thread on his doublet. “Seems he’s been using the wrong head for thinking.”

Alicent, choosing to overlook Aegon’s remark, pressed on. “What drove you to make such a decision?”

“Initially, my plan was to alienate her, drive her away from King’s Landing,” Aemond responded, pressing his thumb against the fresh cut on his palm, using the sharp pain to ground himself. “However, as I got closer, I recognized an opportunity to infiltrate her inner circle. I took it, believing it would yield valuable information on their activities and intentions.”

“That sounds like nothing more than a feeble excuse,” Aegon sneered under his breath, looking up at Aemond in defiance. 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s tone sharpened as she directed her piercing gaze onto her eldest son again. “It appears you are in dire need of a breath of fresh air. You shall continue the journey on horseback.”

Without hesitation, Alicent rapped sharply on the litter’s wall, signaling for it to halt. 

Aegon, his dissatisfaction now morphing into a scowl, protested, “I have no desire to ride. I prefer to stay and witness my dear brother finally receiving the reprimand he deserves.”

“You will do as I say. A dose of fresh air might actually do you some good,” Alicent retorted, brushing off her son’s sulking as he straightened up, adjusting his doublet by smoothing down the hem. His top two buttons lay undone, and despite Alicent’s painstaking efforts to ensure he was impeccably dressed for the funeral, Aegon seemed perpetually disheveled. “And Aegon, this matter is not to be discussed with anyone. He is your brother, and I will not tolerate you besmirching his name. Do I make myself clear?”

With a rigid nod, Aegon begrudgingly made his way towards the door. “For once, brother, we have something in common.”

He exited the litter, the door promptly closing behind him. 

Only after the litter resumed its motion did Alicent finally shift her attention back to Aemond, her dark eyes searching his expression as though she could read the truth on his face. “I must confess, I am at a loss for words.” 

The queen swept her hand down the fabric of her gown, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate embroidery in a seemingly futile effort to quell her rising anxiety. Her thumb began to worry at her own skin, picking subconsciously as she posed her question, “Were you implicated in the death of Boris Baratheon?”

Aemond managed to maintain a facade of unruffled composure, displaying the kind of indifferent nonchalance that often irked those around him, giving the illusion that he was utterly unaffected by the situation at hand. However, beneath this veneer of calm, there was a subtle tension in his movements, a restiveness that did not go unnoticed by his mother’s discerning eye, particularly the way he, too, was absentmindedly picking at his callouses.

“You were present at the scene of the accident,” Alicent pressed on, not giving Aemond the chance to respond to her initial inquiry before piling on the accusation. “You saw him fall.”

“Though I find no cause to grieve his passing, I did not play a part in his death,” Aemond responded, his words carefully measured. The falsehood left a sour taste in his mouth; he had never intended to deceive his mother, but the truth–that he had been complicit in the death of his lover’s husband–would only serve to cause further grievous injury. As he spoke, he could discern the flicker of doubt in his mother’s brown eyes, a suspicion that only served to intensify the sourness of deceit. 

“Was she the author of his death?” Alicent inquired sharply, her tone cutting through the air. “Maester Orwyle has been unable to provide a clear verdict on whether poison was involved. Knowing her lineage, and her mother’s history, I find it within the realm of possibility that Daenera could resort to such measures.”

“I haven't come across any incriminating evidence that suggests she poisoned him, but as you say, it is not outside the realm of possibility, “Aemond responded, his voice even, as he carefully navigated the treacherous waters of the conversation. He understood the gravity of the situation; revealing Daenera’s confession and their joint involvement in Boris’s demise would undoubtedly seal her fate. 

Aemond knew that his mother would not afford the same protection for Daenera as she did him. His mother would use the knowledge to drive her away from King’s Landing, or worse. She would likely be delivered straight to the executioner’s block, all the while his mother would use the indiscretion and implication to diminish Rhaenyra’s influence and authority. 

Alicent’s brown eyes meticulously scanned Aemond’s face, her sharp gaze analyzing every nuance of his expression. She was adept at reading him, and she could discern the burden of her questions weighing heavily upon him. 

“Should it turn out that she orchestrated her husband’s death, we would find allies in House Baratheon and the entirety of the Stormlands. Borros Baratheon would most certainly demand justice, and Rhaenyra would be compelled to deliver it if she harbors any aspirations for the throne,” Alicent said, her brow furrowing as she seemed to grapple at how to use this strategically. 

“Rhaenyra would never be compelled to deliver her daughter to Borros Baratheon for justice,” Aemond said, feeling a stab of pain wreck through his skull at the reminder of it. “And Daenera would ensure that my name is entwined with hers in the scandal, if not have my head placed alongside hers on the executioner’s block.”

“And what evidence could she possibly bring forth against you that would implicate you?” Alicent retorted, undeterred. “It becomes a matter of her word against yours. We can outright deny the affair, and as you’ve stated, you played no part in her husband’s death.”

“But what evidence do we hold to affirm her guilt in her husband’s murder?” Aemond pressed. 

“Daenera possesses extensive knowledge on the subject of plants, which extends to an understanding of poisons,” Alicent elaborated, digging her claws into the situation to tear it apart and piece it back together again. “I’ve been told that she was vehemently against the marriage. It is not beyond the bounds of reason to suspect her of resorting to poison, particularly considering that Boris Baratheon’s health began to decline only after his arrival to King’s Landing. Maester Orwyle has even entertained the possibility of poisoning as the cause of his ailments.”

Alicent laid out her case meticulously, her voice steady and convincing. “Boris Baratheon wanted to leave King’s Landing. He wanted to take his wife with him to Storm’s End. And then he died.”

“Was it the Lord Confessor who supplied you with all this so-called proof?” Aemond inquired, well aware of Lord Larys Strong’s cunning nature. He did not doubt that it was him that had whispered in Boris Baratheon’s ear, after all, he knew that Larys had gone to the extreme of hiring thugs to assault the Princess and ship her away, in an attempt to prevent her return to King’s Landing and the subsequent marriage. 

Yet, what Larys had failed to consider was the ferocity that Daenera possessed–the same ruthlessness that had enabled her to slowly poison her husband over the course of several months. Aemond found himself inexplicably drawn to this darker aspect of her character. 

“I find it hard to believe that the King would consent to executing Daenera on the basis of hearsay and speculation,” Aemond said, feeling the ache within his head intensify. It only served to make him dig his thumb further into the cut on his palm, attempting to ease the pain in his head by applying it elsewhere. “And should she end up there, I would be right beside her.”

“I would never allow that to transpire,” Alicent assured him fervently. 

“Daenera won’t hesitate to drag me down to the depths of the seven hells with her. Should you choose to unmask her, she’ll unveil our affair and impute her husband’s death onto me,” Aemond argued, laying out the perilous situation at hand. 

He had entangled his fate so intricately with hers that if she were to face the executioner’s blade, he would undoubtedly share the same fate. A tumultuous storm of hatred stirred within him, twisting and turning with a cruel ferocity. It had once been simpler to harbor hatred for her, to desire her ruin and expulsion. 

Yet, her poison had infiltrated his being so profoundly, so extensively, that attempting to extricate it now would only result in his own demise. He’d have to bleed himself dry to remove it from his blood.

Aemond was acutely aware that this moment of reckoning was inevitable. However, he hadn’t anticipated the overwhelming sense of shame that now consumed him, rendering him incapable of confessing the full extent of his transgression or how deeply she had managed to poison him. 

Alicent shook her head, her frustration palpable, her voice elevated in reprimand. “How could you allow yourself to be put in this position?”

Inside Aemond, a blaze of folly and recklessness danced, growing more intense and vibrant with each day that passed. He had endeavored to quench the flames, to submerge himself in a sea of loathing and bitterness, permitting the aridity of his past to dominate his thoughts. It was never his intention for things to unfold this way. 

Yet, his animosity and spite transformed, becoming like oil that, when spilled upon the flames, only served to invigorate the fire, causing it to roar with even greater ferocity. The disdain he wished to harbor transformed into fuel, strengthening the very emotions he sought to extinguish.

Aemond was painfully aware of the absurdity of his emotions, yet, akin to the stars strewn across the night sky, they remained constant and unyielding. These feelings persistently gnawed at the very core of his being, a relentless force that refused to be extinguished or ignored. 

His gaze fell to his hand, where he pressed his thumb into the wound, the blooming of blood stark against the white of the bandage. 

“You claim your purpose is to gather intelligence, yet don’t you see the danger in drawing the enemy so near? She could very well be employing the same strategy against you, Aemond,” Alicent asserted, her voice laced with skepticism. “I implore you, do not descend to their depths. Daenera takes after her mother: she is proud and insolent. I cannot blame her for this, she has been brought up in ignorance.” Alicent reached for her son’s hand, taking it in her own, a furrow creasing her brow as she studied the bloodied bandage. “You must not allow her corruption to taint you.”

But the corruption had already taken hold. 

It had slithered beneath the door in the dead of night, worming its way beneath his sheets to stroke his skin, as it dribbled onto his tongue and slid down his throat. Daenera’s presence had contaminated him, and with every kiss she bestowed, he willingly imbibed more of her poison.

“Don’t even dare to suggest that you intend to pursue this perilous romance,” Alicent admonished, seeming to catch a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability that had managed to break through his composure. 

Facing his mother squarely, Aemond’s eye bore into hers as he boldly articulated his emotions, thereby confirming her worst apprehension. “I want her.”

Aemond watched the astonishment flicker across her face, weaving into incredulity. Her head shook in denial as she averted her gaze from her son. “She is our enemy. You know this. You cannot harbor feelings of love for her. Should she succeed in her endeavors, with Rhaenyra ascending the throne, our lives are forfeit. Your siblings, your niece, and your nephews, and I–we will all face death.”

“I am aware,” Aemond conceded, his tone laced with solemnity, fully cognizant of the grim fate that awaited them should his half-sister claim the throne.

“You are aware?” Alicent’s voice rose in anger. “I am inclined to believe that this infatuation of yours is nothing but a ploy of hers. She is beguiling you, Aemond. You must realize, there is no conceivable future wherein you could attain happiness with her. Are you prepared to risk us all for this… this infatuation?”

“Mother, haven’t I consistently fulfilled my obligations? Haven’t I loyally stood by Aegon’s side, serving as his keeper for all these years?” Aemond’s voice escalated, reverberating through the confined space of the litter. He had always done as he was commanded, he had never shirked his duty or wavered in his loyalty. “Have I not adhered to your every directive as you seek to put the crown on my brother's head? Have I ever asked for anything?”

As their transport meanered towards the Keep, thin beams of sunlight illuminated his words in a light far too bright. The muted sounds of the city’s activity brushed against the litter’s exterior, oblivious to the turmoil swirling within him. The outside world continued on, completely detached from the inner conflict tearing through Aemond’s thoughts. 

“I will not neglect my responsibilities,” Aemond continued, his words a promise determined to assure his mother of his loyalty. “I will protect our family and stand by as Aegon ascends to the throne. I will uphold my brother’s rightful claim and stay faithfully by his side. I know my duties, Mother. I will not waver in them.”

His face hardened as he met his mother’s gaze. “But I want her.”

“And what if it comes to a point where you are compelled to take her life to safeguard our family?” Alicent interjected, her tone laced with severity.

“I would do it,” Aemond declared instantly, without any hint of hesitation. 

The realization struck him with a sudden ferocity, like a bolt of lightning striking a tree and splitting it apart. He acknowledged that he would follow through on any command his mother gave him, even if it meant he would have to kill Daenera. He would steadfastly grasp onto the belief that it was a sacrifice made for the sake of his family. Doubt had no place here; it could not be permitted to sprout and flourish. And, in that moment a stark revelation sent a tremor through him, he understood that in doing so, he would also be interring his own heart, laying it to rest alongside hers. 

He felt his mother’s gaze on him, as she allowed the silence to stretch, counting the heartbeats that passed, one after another. “You wish to wed her?”

Aemond stared back at his mother, the truth at the tip of his tongue. 

He had already bound himself to her, though not through any formality recognized by the gods or men. He had committed himself to her on that silent night, with only the crackling fire as their witness. He could still feel the lingering sting from the dragonglass that had cut into his palm, feeling it fresh as he had aggravated the wound to center himself. And when he instinctively licked his lower lip, the metallic tang of copper was an imagined yet poignant reminder. 

He fully understood what it meant when he had asked her to partake in the ritual.

Even prior to that clandestine moment of unity by the fire, their fates had become intertwined. When he had witnessed her in her vulnerable state, battered and bruised, and she had determinedly slid the ring onto his finger with a singular intention of orchestrating her husband’s death, they had irreversibly tethered their destinies together. 

“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice, softer now, pulled him back as she brushed her thumb against his knuckles, clutching his hand between hers. “Nothing good will come from a union with her.”

“I am aware.” Painfully so. Aware of his own fallacies– he understood that it was irrational of him to want her. But he did.

His mother’s voice grew more insistent, “ Do you truly believe she will harbor any fondness for you after we dethrone her mother? Marry her, and you would be shackling yourself to a sinking ship, naively hoping to stay afloat.”

Much like a moth to a flame, Aemond found himself inexorably drawn to her. They were entwined in a perilous dance, destined to either blaze gloriously together or to be consumed utterly by the fiery passion they shared. 

He was conscious of the fact that this love of theirs was about to end in ruins, yet he yearned for her with an intensity that consumed his very soul. He was prepared to face her scorn, to endure the storm of her rage and resentment when he would eventually take away her mother’s crown. He desired her presence so fervently that he was willing to brave her fiercest wrath, as long as she remained alive and within his reach, safeguarded by his own hands. Even if she were to set their world aflame in her fury, he realized, he would still crave her with every beat of his heart. 

And perhaps, that should be the very reason to withdraw, to turn from her and submerge himself in his own resentment. But he had tasted her poison so sweet, and now he was dependent on it. 

Nevertheless, Aemond understood the grave responsibilities that rested upon his shoulders. If circumstances demanded, he would do whatever was necessary, for the sake of his duty . 

“My heart is heavy with worry for you, Aemond. I cannot bear the thought of you venturing down a path only fraught with anguish and torment. A mother only wishes happiness for her child.” Her hand gave his a squeeze. “Daenera, she is a tempest, and she will never cease her fight against you–against us. She’s her mothers daughter. I beg of you, my son, please reconsider.”

Her hold on his hand grew even tighter, as though she harbored a deep-seated fear that releasing him would send him spiraling beyond her reach, lost to her for all eternity. The intensity in her grasp was palpable, a silent, desperate plea etched into the very act, begging him to stay, to listen, to understand. 

“I fear, if you continue down this path it will be the death of you,” Alicent continued, her voice wavering with emotion as she looked upon him with an expression that fell somewhere between pity and disbelief. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

A spiteful spark kindled within him, tempting him to defy his mother’s words and confess the profound, poisoned depth of his desire for Daenera. He yearned for her with a fervor that burned as fierce as his desire for the throne, a desire selfish, intense, and utterly overwhelming. His longing for the throne may have been an impossible dream, but Daenera–she was within reach. He craved her in a way that was devastatingly vulnerable, bordering on pitiful. Despite the turmoil within, he could not deny the raw, unbridled truth–he wanted her, desperately and completely. 

And yet, he could not have her in the way he wanted. 

“Aemond, you must not bind yourself to her,” Alicent implored, her words piercing through his meticulously constructed facade to embed themselves deep within his very being. “She will steadfastly uphold her mother’s claim to the throne, and in her fervor, she will lead you into the depths of the seven hells. I cannot, and I will not permit her to do so. You are my son. I will not stand by and watch you cast your life away for an infatuation.”

As she reached out to him, her thumb delicately traced the edge of his scar, her touch imbued with a profound emotional intensity. The sensation penetrated his skin, igniting a cascade of memories–the cold steel of the dagger cutting through his eye, the scalding warmth of his blood streaming down his face, the feeling of the remnants of his eye being pulled out of his skull before it was stitched up. He could feel the agonizing pain radiating through his skull, fiery and unbearable, and the unyielding pressure of the sapphire embedded in his socket against the most vulnerable tissues of his head. 

Her gaze lingered on the disfigurement marring his face, darkening with a potent blend of love and fury, as though she was silently vowing to retaliate for the grave injustice inflicted upon him. A whirlpool of resentment surged within her, fueled by the sorrow of her inability to shield her son. She alone had clamored for retribution–for justice. 

“Never forget what they did to you,” Alicent asserted to her son, her voice imbued with a maternal authority. “What they will do to all of us should Rhaenyra take the throne.”

“It is not forgotten, Mother,” Aemond promised, grinding his teeth against the pain and the resentment it fraught within him. “I will demand justice for the both of us. I will always do my duty.”

Gently, Alicent pressed her lips to his forehead. “Word of this mustn’t get out. Do you understand?” 

Aemond surrendered to the tempest of pain, closing his eye as it surged through him with relentless force. Amidst the pain, he became acutely aware of the pulsating ache in his hand, a vivid reminder of another wound, another moment of vulnerability.

Daenera felt weariness wrap around her like a heavy cloak as they navigated the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast, with the fading light of evening casting long shadows across their path through the courtyard. A relentless headache crept up from the nape of her neck, embedding itself firmly within her skull and pulsating with a persistent discomfort. The muscles down her back seemed to protest, fatigued and strained, bruised and frayed, as she continued towards her chambers. 

“Could you ensure that Kevan has carried out his instructions, Fenrick? I need to be certain that the woman is safely beyond the city’s limits,” Daenera requested, pushing open the doors to her chambers and striding into her sanctuary, with Fenrick and Joyce trailing behind. The sweet smell of incense lingered uncomfortably in her nose, and she was sure it had permeated the fabric of her clothes. She swiftly removed the mourning veil from her head, releasing a few rebellious strands of hair as she tossed the headdress onto a solitary chair beside the mirror in her bedchamber. She rotated her neck, seeking relief from the tightness that had sent in. 

“Of course–seven hells!” Fenrick’s words cut through the air as his eyebrows knitted together in a harsh frown. 

Daenera’s gaze swept towards her bed, landing on Aemond, who lay sprawled out across the mattress in a display of casual arrogance, his arms folded behind his head and his lone eye shut. She couldn’t suppress an eye roll as Fenrick’s scowl deepened, his gaze locked on the prince as if he could make him disappear with sheer force of will. His disdain, however, would only serve to solidify his presence. 

“He has no business being here,” Fenrick declared tersely, tension radiating from him as Daenera began to unravel her hair. “Have you thought about the consequences if he is seen here?”

“Did you come through the main door?” Daenera inquired, fixing her gaze on Aemond through the mirror’s reflection. He remained unperturbed, blissfully indifferent to Fenrick’s mounting irritation. 

“No,” Aemond responded, his voice laced with a carefree hum.

Tearing his focus away from Aemond, Fenrick moved closer to Daenera, his face etched with concern. “Your husband’s body has yet to be laid to rest and the court’s eyes are firmly on you; this is no time for recklessness. His presence here is ill-advised.”

“Your advice is noted, Fenrick,” Daenera retorted, her tone sharp and resolute. “I believe I’ve already assigned you a mission. Would you see to it?” 

Gritting his teeth in suppressed fury, Fenrick took a moment to compose himself before finally stepping back and offering a curt nod, acquiescing to her authority. 

Seemingly unfazed, Aemond remained on the bed, eyes closed as Daenera freed the final pins from her hair, allowing her dark locks to cascade down her shoulders. Joyce was swift and meticulous, working to undo the intricate laces of her gown and peeling away the layers until Daenera stood in her delicate underdress. 

“Joyce, would you mind reaching out to your contacts to discern whether they’ve managed to catch wind of anything significant?” Daenera requested, moving to pour herself a refreshing cup of water. “Rumors might soon be spreading like wildfire, and I would like to be immediately informed if any of it could pose a threat. And keep an eye on the rookery, please.”

“Princess.” With a nod of understanding, Joyce exited the princess’s chambers, leaving Daenera and Aemond alone. She left the empty cup on the table before moving across the room, her footsteps whispering against the stone floor.  Gracefully lifting the hem of her undergown, she positioned herself over Aemond, straddling his hips with poise. Her fingers traced across his shoulders, toying with the fabric of his undershirt as she dipped down, her lips brushing lightly against his. 

“I do not appreciate your mother accusing me of murdering my poor, sweet husband as I stand vigil by his corpse,” Daenera murmured, her fingers playing with the string of his shirt, a playful yet dark glint in her eyes. “She seems quite convinced I’ve stained my hands with his blood, all to conceal my supposed unfaithfulness…”

Lowering her head, she bestowed gentle kisses along the expanse of his neck, her breath warm and teasing against his skin. She moved her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm against him, as a hand moved lower, tracing a path down his chest, lingering at the hem of his shirt where it met his trousers. 

Noticing his lack of response, Daenera leaned back, studying Aemond’s face closely, a puzzled pout on her lips. “Is my company not to your liking tonight?”

Aemond’s eye flicked open, his gaze meeting hers with a weighty intensity. “She knows about us.”

With an increased sense of unease, Daenera shifted further away, her eyes intently scanning Aemond’s expression as she sought to understand the full extent of their predicament. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath as she processed the gravity of his words, and then slowly exhaled, attempting to steady her racing thoughts. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, she all but admitted to it, nevertheless, dread washed over her.

“What exactly has she come to know?” Daenera questioned, her voice laced with a hint of urgency as she sought more information. 

“She knows about the affair.” Aemond’s response was grave, his voice carrying a subtle undertone and words void of any reassurance. This revelation only served to intensify Daenera’s frown, prompting her to shift her position on the bed, moving to sit beside him as she thought it through. 

Daenera deciphered the confirmation in his gaze, her voice steady as she asserted, “You’ve affirmed her suspicions.”

His eye remained on her as he admitted calmly, “ I have.”

His forthrightness hung in the air between them. 

Daenera rose from the bed, a tumultuous storm brewing in her eyes as she paced the room. “Your mother won’t hesitate to expose me. She’s already planting seeds of rumors and she’s poised to tell the whole world about my infidelity. She won’t stop there; she will make sure the word reaches Borros Baratheon, severing any remaining ties of alliance that I might still have. She’s already convinced that I killed my husband, and she will make sure everyone believes it too.”

A sensation of vulnerability crept over her, akin to the harrowing moment when her husband had ruthlessly torn her gown, laying her back open for his retribution. The dull ache surged in her back muscles, while the thin fabric of her underdress delicately grazed her tender flesh. She raised her hand, allowing her finger to lightly glide over the contour of her ear. She could feel the roughness of the scabbed wound against her skin.

“Do you intend to let her label me as the great whore?” Daenera demanded, her voice laced with indignation.

Aemond, infuriatingly composed, replied in a tone that was both placid and provocative, “I would think being deemed the great whore implies a far more extensive and scandalous history of promiscuity than mere infidelity… Like your mother.”

Daenera grabbed the item nearest her, a orange, and hurled it at him in anger. It flew through the air and bounced off his body, landing with a thud at his feet. He stared at her, eye wide with indignation.

Daenera’s voice held a venomous edge, her body tense with anger as she practically spat out her words, feeling the blaze of rage and embarrassment within her, sending sparks through her veins. “Have you simply graced me with your presence to bestow upon me the courtesy of a warning? Or is this a twisted form of entertainment for you?”

Aemond’s lip curled into a cruel smirk, his gaze hard as he met her fiery eyes. “I warned her that you would pull me down to the seven hells with you.”

“And I shall,” Daenera affirmed with a sneer.

“She won’t say anything,” Aemond declared, settling himself on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs in a relaxed and infuriating manner that made her want to sink to her knees between them. Daenera hated herself for the feeling and settled herself within her rage.

A surge of bitterness and accusation resonated in Daenera’s voice as she addressed the crux of the matter, her eyes aflame with indignation. “The voice in this sordid tale is your mother. She whispered in Boris’s ear with her speculations and it sent him into that uncontrollable rage.”

The accusation brought a sharpened focus to Aemond’s gaze, his solitary eye narrowing with intensity as he absorbed Daenera’s words. A silent, raw energy emanated from him, almost tangible in its potency. 

“Perhaps we made the mistake of mistaking your husband for a fool,” Aemond responded, his voice carrying a hard edge as he refused to accept the blame towards his mother. 

“ Someone whispered in his ear,” Daenera bit back, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Your mother wanted me to leave the city and she wanted to damage my alliance with House Baratheon.” 

Aemond’s voice carried a mixture of accusation and harsh realism as he spoke, “You were aware of the dangers, the potential fallout of an affair. You knew exactly what the stakes were when you asked me to come to your private chambers. This situation, the predicament we find ourselves in–it is not my mother’s doing.”

“It is if she is the source of the whispers!” Daenera exclaimed, infuriated by his loyalty to his mother. 

Aemond maintained his poised demeanor, yet there was an underlying firmness in his words, a stark reminder of the reality they were entrenched in. His gaze never wavered, it remained coolly on her. “It wasn’t my mother.”

With a scoff, Daenera shook her head, disbelief painting her features. “Who else? Your mother will manipulate the narrative, leaking the information bit by bit while meticulously protecting your name and reputation. Your mother will shield you, but she won’t extend the same courtesy to me.”

“My mother won’t take that risk,” Aemond stated firmly. 

Daenera met his hardened gaze with a challenging glare. “She most certainly would. She will sow the seeds with great care, tend them until they flourish. She’ll do to me what she did to my mother! She’ll manipulate others to reach their own damning conclusions.”

“My mother will stay her hand,” Aemond asserted with a tone of certainty, his eye locked onto Daenera’s with an intensity that was difficult to decipher. Daenera scrutinized his features, seeking clues in the subtlest movements of his face–the way his brows drew together, the depth and hue of the sapphire that replaced his eye, the firm set of his jaw, and the almost imperceptible pull at the corners of his lips. There was something concealed beneath his composure, an enigmatic force shrouded in mystery. 

An invisible chasm began to form between them, gradually widening as the reality they had been so blissfully ignoring asserted its presence. They found themselves on separate sides of this growing abyss, a gap that threatened to either swallow them whole or stretch so far they’d lose sight of each other completely. Yet, in that moment, it remained narrow enough to be dismissed, allowing them to stand there, still within reach. 

“Why?” Daenera questioned apprehensively. 

Aemond’s reply came swift and straightforward, “Because I asked her to.”

“Your mother wouldn’t approve of this,” Daenera remarked, a slight tilt of her head betraying her skepticism as the fiery rage within her began to ebb away, transforming into smoldering embers and a lingering haze of smoke. “She wouldn’t want you here, compromising your honor by persisting in this illicit affair.”

Aemond produced a low hum, a vibration that resonated with the silence of the bedchamber, traveling through the air to send a shudder cascading down her spine. “She indeed disapproves.”

“You’re here nonetheless.”

“I am.”

Daenera’s eyes narrowed as she scanned his face, seeking answers she knew he would not reveal. “The leash has been pulled taut. At her command, you will yield and return to her side.”

“I will,” Aemond conceded, lifting himself off the bed and gliding towards her with a predatory grace. Extending his hand, he gently encased the back of her neck in his firm grip, prompting her to tilt her head back and lock eyes with him. 

“The obedient son; the faithful hound,” Daenera articulated, feeling the pressure of his fingers against the base of her skull, a touch both harsh and claiming. 

A smirk played on his lips as he responded with a drawl, “Yet here I am, bearing a wound on my palm, my hands stained– disobeying .”

His lips hovered dangerously close, tantalizingly so, as he languidly ran his tongue across his lower lip. The invitation was clear, and Daenera couldn’t help but be drawn to it, despite the storm of thoughts raging in her mind. 

“This act of disobedience won’t last indefinitely,” Daenera said and she was acutely aware that if Alicent demanded it, Aemond would retreat to his mothers side. Should his mother wish him to be wed, he would dutifully comply. She would become his clandestine affair, left vulnerable to the ruthless scrutiny of his mother.

“It reaches farther than you might imagine,” Aemond whispered, his forehead coming to rest against hers in a moment of intimacy. His other hand tenderly brushed her hair aside, revealing the bandaged wound and the dark stain of blood that had seeped through, similar to her own.

The way he looked at her seemed to say; Look at what you’ve done to me. Look at what you’ve made of me.  His thumb brushed along the curve under her jaw, tilting her head back so that her eyes met his. “It’s unfair, this desire I feel for you–it is a poison coursing through my veins, and if it were within my power to expel it, I would.”

His eye shifted, taking on a darker hue as his pupil dilated further.The rawness of his tone sent shivers down Daenera’s spine as he painted a vivid imagery–it all laid bare the depth of his desire, and the dangerous dance they were entangled in. 

  And again, with that sentence, there were the unspoken words; This desire, it is comparable to a man who has been deprived of sustenance. It is a monstrous craving, gnawing at my insides, thirsting for the warmth of your blood. It is cruel. And it makes a beast of me. “Your desire will be my ruin,” Daenera murmured, eyes fluttering as he pressed a kiss to her neck. It was indeed not fair. 

She felt his lips trail upward along the delicate column of her neck, finally tracing over her lips. He tenderly grazed his lips over hers, as though experimenting, prompting her to part them slightly, allowing herself to breathe him in, to taste the essence of his desire upon his lips. And then, he fully captured her lips in a fervent, demanding kiss, his tongue seeking entry, eager to explore the depths of her. His hands, now filled with a relentless urgency, held onto her firmly, steering her in a dance of passion as they moved in reverse.

She experiences a gentle nudge at her shoulders, propelling her gently onto the bed. The fragrant aroma of lavender from her fresh sheets and blankets wafted up, filling her senses. Raising her head slightly from the softness of the mattress, Daenera’s eyes locked onto Aemond, who seemed lost in contemplation. His fingers toyed with the fabric of her undergown, slowly gathering it in his hand, bunching it as he gradually exposed more of her legs. The hem teased her knee, caressing her skin as it continued its journey upwards, unveiling the lush curvature of her thighs. His dark gaze lifted from her legs, locking onto hers, consumed by a ravenous hunger in his visible eye. 

Lifting herself onto her elbows, Daenera spoke softly, “We should put an end to this.”

“You’re right; we should,” Aemond concurred, his hand tightening around the fabric of her undergown, as if he loathed to release her so easily.  

“Yet, both know we won’t” Daenera added, her legs gradually opening for him in a silent invitation. 

“It seems my desire for you is not the only one that leads you to ruin,” Aemond whispered huskily, his hands finding her knees. With a sudden, forceful motion, he yanked her towards the edge of the bed, causing the hem of her undergown to rise and reveal more of her, the intimate curls of her cunt now exposed. 

The slick wetness she felt between her legs spoke volumes of her desire, a familiar, pulsating ache spreading through her, as if the desire had a heartbeat of its own. She half-expected him to undo the laces of his trousers; however, he surprised her by sinking to his knees on the cold stone floor. Unceremoniously, he pressed his lips passionately against her, a bold and direct move that left her gasping. 

A surge of intense pleasure caused Daenera’s legs to involuntarily clamp around Aemond’s head, but he was quick to respond, firmly parting her thoughts once more as he unabashedly ravaged her clit with his skilled tongue. He rolled it over the sensitive nub, creating waves of pleasure, before taking it between his lips to suck at it fervently. Daenera’s breath hitched, a moan spilled from her lips, echoing through the chamber as her fingers gripped the sheets beneath her. 

“Aem–Gods!” Daenera exclaimed, her back arching off the mattress as Aemond’s relentless attention continued. She could feel her own arousal trickling down, dampening the blanket draped off the bed’s edge. 

His hands, now more insistent, held her open wider, granting him unrestricted access to delve his tongue through her drenched folds, circling her clit before drawing it back into his mouth, sucking at it. His actions were almost punishing, pushing her even closer to the brink, as if he were channeling fury into desire. 

And perhaps, Daenera realized, he was both furious and voraciously hungry for her all at once. 

As Aemond looked up at her, his eye sparked with a wicked delight and a ravenous intensity, promising complete and utter consumption. She was under no illusions; he intended to devour her whole.

The lascivious symphony of his tongue delving into her soaked folds filled the air, blending seamlessly with her ragged moans and sharp intakes of breath. Daenera writhed under his ministrations, her body responding instinctively, her core tightening in anticipation. Her walls fluttered around the emptiness, craving more as he drow his tongue inside of her, feasting on her like a man ravaging a ripe fruit with his bare hands. He sucked at her, drawing out her juices, indulging in her as if she were the sweetest nectar. 

Daenera’s entire being seemed to constrict as her climax washed over her, her essence spilling onto Aemond’s tongue while her legs trembled around his head. A prolonged, resonant moan escaped her lips, filling the room as her back created an arc off the bed. She struggled for breath, gasping in short, choppy inhalations, as he continued his ministrations, dragging his tongue up along her folds to lavish attention once more upon her sensitive clit.

He shifted, trailing his lips away from her cunt, nestling his nose close and taking a deep inhale of her unique scent. This intimate act sent a wave of heat to Daenera’s cheeks, tinging them a deep shade of red as she registered the unabashed audacity of this action. 

“I would have taken you in the sept,” Aemond murmured, his voice low and husky. His breath tickled over her wet cunt, his lips glistening with the remnants of her. “However depraved it is, I would have claimed you right there against the altar and fucked you like I did that night when you invited me to your chamber. It would serve as a spectacular farewell for your wretched husband.”

A laugh climbed its way through her throat and tore its way into the world. “If your mother could hear you now.”

Her laughter transformed into a sharp gasp when she felt the sudden and forceful intrusion of his two fingers within her, her inner walls clenching tightly around them. She wasn’t sure whether the sting served to sharpen her desire or whether she wanted him to pull out of her, and in truth, he left her no time to sort it out on her own. 

Aemond resumed his oral ministrations, fervently sucking at her sensitive clit. His fingers skillfully navigated her inner depths, caressing her spongy walls and pinpointing every sensitive spot to exploit. He found that area that made her hips lift up the bed, and he seemed satisfied with the reaction from the humm that reverberated through his lips and into her clit. 

Shifting her position, Aemond guided her legs to rest behind his shoulders, leaving her entirely exposed and at his mercy. His other hand wrapped around her hip, holding her firmly in place as he relentlessly fingered her, his tongue gliding through her wet folds and applying pressure to her swollen, overly sensitive clit. 

“‘s to fast,” Daenera breathed, her hands desperately clutching the sheets, her body trembling as he propelled her towards another overwhelming climax. The intensity of the sensation bordered on pain, and she dragged in ragged breaths, biting down on her bottom lip in a futile attempt to stifle the whimpers threatening to escape, fully aware that any sign of her unraveling would only fuel his satisfaction. 

“Aemond,” Daenera mewled breathlessly, “I-I-I’m–”

Her cunt spasmed around his intruding digits, a surge of wetness gushing forth as waves of pleasure washed over her again. Her mind was engulfed in a haze, and it felt as though every ounce of blood had surged from her head and straight to her throbbing center. 

Aemond’s voice was husky and rough as he drawled, “Imagine if your fathers, Laenor, Harwin… Daemon witnessed this scene,” whilst wiping his chin against her inner thigh, leaving a trail of warmth. “Here you are, breathless, whimpering sweetly, all while being thoroughly fucked by a man they hate.”

Daenera let out a sharp yelp when he delivered a slap to her cunt, her inner walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. Her eyes widened in a mix of shock and pleasure as another spank landed, his lips planing forceful kisses along her inner thighs, enough to leave a trail of blooming purples and reds. Every now and then, he would bite into the soft flesh, an exquisite mixture of pain and pleasure. He slapped her once again, and then twice, before resuming the motion of his fingers. 

The sensation was intense, almost too much to bear. Her cunt were incredibly sensitive following her consecutive orgasms, yet Aemond showed no sign of relenting. His eye gleamed with mischief as he lavished attention upon her with his tongue, switching to suckle at the flesh of her other thigh. Meanwhile, one hand resumed its rough movements inside her, while the other teased her swollen, tender clit, now a vivid shade of red from his persistent attention. 

“Please,” Daenera found herself whimpering, caught between seeking more and begging for reprieve. The amalgamation of pleasure and pain created an overwhelming tide of sensations, her mind swimming with it. “It’s too much—I can’t—Aemond–”

Her breaths came out in quick, short pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck–Aemond.”

Her pleas were breathy, filled with desperation as she was swept further into the storm of her own senses, her cunt fluttering and gushing. 

Upon turning her other thigh into a canvas of blossoming hues, Aemond shifted his attention back to her clit, showering it with fervent kisses. The mere contact was enough to send her spiraling over the edge once more. Daenera’s eyes fluttered closed as pleasure washed over her, her hand tangling in his hair, torn between drawing him closer and pushing him away.

Aemond relentlessly coaked four additional climaxes from her weary body, pushing her beyond her limits until she was left breathless, whimpering, and completely lost in the sea of overwhelming pleasure, skirting the line of exquisite torture. 

Her legs shook uncontrollably, her body rendered boneless and weak, leaving her in a state of blissful surrender. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she vowed to one day return this torture. 

Only then did Aemond finally draw back, discarding his shirt and using it to wipe away the remnants of her pleasure from his face. 

Daenera lay sprawled on the bed, her entire being buzzing with sensitivity, her gaze hazy as she stared unfocused at the canopy above. 

Without a word, Aemond reached out, his hands securing her hips as he gently rolled her onto her stomach, her hair spilling into her face. Her hips and legs now dangled precariously over the bed and were it not for his hold, she would have slipped onto the floor. Her breath caught in her lungs as he began to knead the flesh of her backside. He worked the underdress up, higher and higher, only to abruptly stop. 

A deep, guttural groan escaped Daenera’s lips as she felt the head of his cock teasing her swollen folds, drawing up and down her slit before finally piercing her. She felt her inner walls tighten around him in an overwhelming mix of pleasure and intensity as he pressed further and further inside her. A raw whimper tore from her throat as her body stretched to accommodate him, her muscles fluttering around him in a conflicting dance of resistance and invitation. 

Just as he was on the verge of burying himself completely within her, he withdrew, only to abruptly snap his hips forward, filling her entirely. His cock stretched her tender walls to their limit, reaching depths and applying pressure in ways his fingers never could.

 Daenera felt her body respond, clenching tightly around him once more, as a wave of pleasure surged through her, culminating in a small, yet intense orgasm from the force of his single, powerful thrust. 

“Would you have liked me to fuck you infront of your dead husband?” Aemond questioned and she heard the sound of his breath being drawn in through clenched teeth. 

With her head turned to the side and hands gripping the sheets tightly, Daenera braced herself as Aemond established a fierce and relentless pace. His hips crashed against her backside, the sound resonating through the room as the impact caused her flesh to quiver. His testicles consistently struck against her overstimulated clit, each contact stealing her breath away in a series of soft mewls. 

“Hmm?” Aemond hummed and she could hear the smugness in his voice. “Have I managed to fuck you silly.” 

Daenera could not form a word of reply, her mind scattered completely. 

Aemond’s hands were firm on her hips, his fingers pressing deeply into her flesh, as the room was filled with more sounds. A low, guttural moan vibrated from his chest as he relinquished his grip on one of her hips, his hand moving to grasp the nape of her neck instead. He continued his merciless thrusts, dominating her completely, as her body surrendered to his relentless pace and power. 

As Aemond reached his peak, releasing his seed deep within her, Daenera felt her own body respond in kind. Her inner walls tightened and fluttered around him, coaxing her into one final, overwhelming orgasm that left her utterly spent and limp. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his release filling her, mixing with her own fluids that were already trickling down her thighs. 

When he finally withdrew from her, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as a rush of their mingled essence flowed out. Had her grip on the sheets been any looser, she might have found herself sliding onto the floor, her body unable to support her any longer. Her eyelids fluttered weakly, her mind bathed in a serene and blissful silence, as she lay there, completely ravished. 

Daenera was almost entirely unaware of Aemond’s movements throughout the room until she felt a cool, damp cloth gently caress her inner thigh. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, revealing Aemond attentively wiping her down, removing any excess of fluids. His cheeks were tinged with a soft flush, and beads of sweat clung to the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

With a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his earlier fervor, Aemond guided her beneath the comfort of the covers. Silently, he joined her, his actions marked by a quietude that enveloped the room in a serene calmness. 

As dawn broke, Daenera discovered that Aemond still lay beside her in bed, undisturbed by the morning light, the sapphire gleaming with something unknown. The morning held a new sense of intimacy and closeness, as their usual dalliance had always ended by the first morning light. 

And much to her servants dismay, Aemond remained in bed sleeping while she was made ready for the sept.

Finally! After posting every day for over a month, we've reached the point where we've caught up to the story! From now on the newest chapter will be posted on Fridays after being posted on AO3.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Hi hi! Im usually a lurker (first time sending anything in actually) I couldn’t help myself this time though and just really needed to say you are one of my favourite writers! Went from binging cbmthy to binging everything else. Thank you for sharing all the amazing writing🙇🙇 I hope you’re taking care of yourself!!💝🌸

…Moving forward…I’m sorry for my ramblings🫠 there’s just so much to talk and love about your stories

Ngl the first line of chapter 22 already made my heart ache🫠 just cause i felt it so deeply that reader almost routinely wants to talk to Bas. The thought of someone being such a big part of your life and just being gone one day over a terrible situation (whether it’s a good or bad thing that they’re gone), atp it’s so built into your routine that you can’t help but check on them or think of them even when you shouldn’t.

Idek how to feel about her sisters constantly wanting to buy things for her room. Cause I understand her sisters wanting to make her room feel more cozy again, and wanting to make her happy with the time she has left AND most importantly, conveying that it isn’t a “waste” to buy her things. BUT I ALSO UNDERSTAND READER’S MENTALITY AND I WILL ADMIT IVE GOTTEN FRUSTRATED IN SIMILAR SITUATIONS. Genuinely it does not feel good when you feel like you’re wasting other people’s money or time

Now Az…man Az…I’m probably in the minority of rooting for him even when the worst interactions happened between them (I say it’s cause I have massive faith in your writing ability to make their relationship come together☝️✨) BUT WJDJJWD I was almost thinking “just what is it that he wants??” Cause first, he’s the one who keeps seeking reader out now(? 2-3 times isn’t that many but I digress) while also flashing from decently warm (decently is important here) to extremely cold or indifferent.

“You kissed me back” EXCUSE ME? WHAT? LIKE- OKAY??? AND?? YOU DIDNT HAVE TO INITIATE IT ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU KNOW SHES SO DOWN BAD(???)

Okok and now the part I’m slightly confused about right? Now it’s very clear that reader isn’t the most emotionally stable and she is very very deadset on the belief that they hate her. So it wouldn’t surprise me if she took Az’s reaction wrong. What may look like ‘a horrible secret being revealed’, could actually be Az just- almost not knowing what to say to make things better? Or just…not knowing how to handle this? The line I’m questioning is “Azriel doesn’t care if she hit the nail on the head” how I took it is that what she said wasn’t necessarily correct but it doesn’t matter cause Az doesn’t want her to think he reciprocates but he also doesn’t want to reveal a “part of himself”👁️👁️ CURIOUS, VERY CURIOUS. And so he opted to be cold so she would hate him which I almost think that’s cause of his own deep rooted fears and hatred for himself (especially cause of the ‘if she thinks she’s in love with him, she should know how awful he is’ line). And that’s the part he doesn’t wanna expose to her (MAYBE??) as well as he actually probably pays way more attention to her than she thinks (Mr. I-know-you-have-a-small-scar-from-the-arrow)

Anyway that’s my rambling, please let me know if I misunderstood some of the text with Az!! THANK YOU FOR THE BEAUTIFUL, HEART WRENCHING CHAPTER, EXCITED ABOUT THIS PRISON BREAK SITUATION💝💝

‘Hi hi! Im usually a lurker (first time sending anything in actually)’

Ahhh hello!! Very happy to have you here (whether you’re lurking or chatting in 🧡💛)!

‘just really needed to say you are one of my favourite writers! Went from binging cbmthy to binging everything else.’

Really?? ☹️🫂🫂 I’m so happy you liked cbmthy enough to explore further! I hope none of it was too jarring to read—I imagine hopping from angsty cbmthy to smut riddled basically-everything-else might be a bit surprising at first 😭

Please do not worry about rambling, I love love love hearing from people and chatting!! 🧡💛 (I also find it very helpful too—anyone who’s been here since the beginning of cbmthy will be able to confirm I relied—and still do kind of—a lot on feedback to help me measure angst levels and steer the story progression 🫣)

‘Ngl the first line of chapter 22 already made my heart ache🫠 just cause i felt it so deeply that reader almost routinely wants to talk to Bas.’

Yes! And it’s not like anyone other than Mor might have any reason to go to the Winter Court so it’s like he’ll be completely out of reach once he’s gone!

Though while I think it will be painful for reader to lose him like that—in the way that he won’t be completely gone, but just far enough she can’t reach him—it might push her to venture further in attempts to find a way to get another third space for herself (or I guess technically second space, since she’s only really in the River House now with her sisters and the IC)? I think that might be exciting to see?

What you said about doing things out of habit though, expecting someone to be there once they’re not…do you think anyone might spot a single empty chair and pause? Or pass a pair of gloves and remember sensitivity in their fingertips? After six months has passed, I mean

‘Idek how to feel about her sisters constantly wanting to buy things for her room.’

Yes, even though Rhys is probably horrifically wealthy, and even if that wealth is extended to Feyre and her sisters, I don’t imagine reader would ever really feel like it was hers. Or that she’d earned it.

If reader could accept that offering I think things could be very happy though. Imagine having an entire space designed specifically you? With the colours you like, evidence of hobbies scattered around? A safe place to be?

Also being on the other end of reader’s illness, I think it would be natural to want to make someone’s life as happy and as comfortable as possible if you knew it was coming to the end. It’s just unfortunate there’s still that small barrier between them :/

‘Now Az…man Az…I’m probably in the minority of rooting for him even when the worst interactions happened between them’

Yes! Yes! Finally! I’ll shower you in metaphorical flowers!! Thank you!! I promise it’ll get better, just stick with me and everything will be fine!!

‘Cause first, he’s the one who keeps seeking reader out now’

I think it’s very funny that they keep meeting, and trying to have a normal conversation and just,,,failing,,,consistently 🤭

‘“You kissed me back” EXCUSE ME? WHAT? LIKE- OKAY??? AND?? YOU DIDNT HAVE TO INITIATE IT ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU KNOW SHES SO DOWN BAD(???)’

I adore that I could practically hear the indignant splutter through the screen 😭🧡💛

To be fair, in that moment Azriel thought that reader was accusing him of sexually taking advantage of her which is why he opposed her in a way that was kind of embarrassing for her, when reader was actually talking about Azriel using her to get a read on Elain (which yay, reader’s keeping that in mind now!!)

‘So it wouldn’t surprise me if she took Az’s reaction wrong.’

👀? To be fair, if she’s convinced herself that everyone hates her, I imagine convincing herself that Azriel might try to kill her out of revulsion wouldn’t be a tricky task 😭

‘The line I’m questioning is “Azriel doesn’t care if she hit the nail on the head” how I took it is that what she said wasn’t necessarily correct but it doesn’t matter cause Az doesn’t want her to think he reciprocates but he also doesn’t want to reveal a “part of himself”👁️👁️ CURIOUS, VERY CURIOUS.’

So I’m actually very curious to see how people interpreted this part because I think it’s the closest we’ve gotten so far to understanding an element of Azriel’s cold behaviour towards Reader?

I’m not going to elaborate on this part because it will be expanded upon later in the series and I don’t want to spoil anything, but yeah. It was fun to write those two paragraphs from Az’s perspective 🥲

‘as well as he actually probably pays way more attention to her than she thinks (Mr. I-know-you-have-a-small-scar-from-the-arrow)’

I want to say I ADORED that scene and I think reader was probably frozen from awe too. I mean, we know how flustered she gets from holding a conversation with him alone, not to mention when close proximity is added since Reader was obviously raised human, and time alone with a man + TOUCHING??? = Marriage. Horse and carriage. COURTING. (I’m being hyperbolic 😶)

Since I think that’s how reader’s been raised to view those things, I imagine she attributes much more meaning to them than any of the born-fae do, hence all the flushing and embarrassment and elevated heart rates 🤭

(That’s not to say that Azriel was flirting with her. More that they have different perspectives on how to display intimacy—also will be elaborated on—and while reader knows Azriel doesn’t mean those things in the way she understands them, that doesn’t remove their significance for her which makes her feelings much more difficult to temper :) )

Like him touching the spot atop her heart?? Much more intimate than a one night stand where it would only be physical nakedness 😭

‘Anyway that’s my rambling, please let me know if I misunderstood some of the text with Az!! THANK YOU FOR THE BEAUTIFUL, HEART WRENCHING CHAPTER, EXCITED ABOUT THIS PRISON BREAK SITUATION💝💝’

I loved reading you ramble and I’m so flattered you had so much to say about it!! Obviously I enjoy cbmthy since it takes up quite a lot of my time, so getting to hear people like yourself who’ve decided to read all the parts and then further decided to take some time to type messages out into my inbox? 🧡💛🫂🫂🫂

I love it, so much, so thank you for reading and enjoying!! I hope it continues to be a fun adventure! ☹️🫂

[namusthetic]

Marauders' Era

The Slytherin Skittles

From the Marauders' Era fandom. Decided to lounge about in the Slytherin common room? Join the Skittles for a late night Slytherin chat.

Regulus A. Black

"From far away I wish I'd stayed with you, but here face to face, a stranger that I once knew.

I thought if I wandered I'd fall back in love. You said distance brings fondness, but guess not with us."

- Astronomy, Conan Gray

Doesn't ask for help

Overachiever

Covers his deep insecurities with a god-complex

Abandonment and trust issues

Suffers panic and anxiety attacks, the others know exactly what to do when it happens and huddle around him, holding hands and grounding him, until he starts breathing normally again and stops shaking

Protective of his chosen family

Instead of fighting to keep people in his life, he lets them go because in the end he thinks he's never enough to stay for

Hates loud noises and making noise when moving or walking

Deeply misunderstood

Tries to remain detached and cold as much as possible because knows he'd end up caring too deeply

Self-isolates when he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, luckily, whenever that happens, the others storm his usual hiding spots and force him to go outside and enjoy himself

Escapes from his own thoughts by reading or listening to music compulsively

Barty Crouch Jr.

"I used to like liquor to get me inspired but you look so beautiful, my new supplier. I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking, but I found a different buzz.

The world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it I know they got pills that can help you forget it, they bottle it, call it medicine, but I don't need drugs. 'Cause I'm already high enough, you got me, you got me good."

- High Enough by K. Flay

covers his need for attention and approval with loudness and chaos

Fear of missing out

Afraid that people will forget about him and leave him behind

Avoids talking and thinking about his own feelings

Cannot control his emotions when overwhelmed

Hides it when deeply hurt

Clingy drunk, cries if left by himself

Has a soft spot for pets, especially dogs (once he even accidentally cuddled Padfoot without knowing it was actually Sirius)

Hopeless romantic when in a serious relationship

Incredibly intelligent, he just doesn't want to please his father in any way so he acts out

Jokes about his trauma in public, but ends up sleeping in Evan's bed whenever he has nightmares

ADHD kid

Makes dirty jokes all the time but is afraid of having a stable relationship and not being enough for his partner

Evan Rosier

"And hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute that I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight? That I'm fine even after I have died? Because it was in your arms I died.

I cry in the afterlife, I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive. I try to escape afterlife, I try hard to get back inside your arms alive."

- Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

Calm and collected most of the time

Silent anger

Insomniac, spends the nights reading and listening to chill music

Deadly afraid of spiders, always asks Pandora to take them outside

Energy drinks and caffeine

If looks could kill

Tries to keep everyone from getting in trouble together with Dorcas

Doesn't pay attention in class but gets good grades anyway

Grew up too quickly

Joins Barty and Dorcas whenever they are tipsy and start a singing contest

Likes nights out with friends, randomly walking with no precise destination, a few drinks in hand and the warmth of chosen family around him

The observant, silent one

Always carries small perfume vials since he can't stand smells (sweat, cigarette smoke, etc.)

Pandora Rosier

"You don't have to be like everybody else, you don't have to fit into the norm, you are not here to conform. I am here to take a look inside myself, recognize that I could be the eye, the eye of the storm.

I am not my body, not my mind or my brain (ha), not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA. I am the observer, I'm a witness of life, I live in the space between the stars and the sky."

- Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA

Already figured who was going to end up in a relationship with whom years before it happened

Has a private gardening spot where she grows their own plants (especially herbs)

Follows the lunar calendar instead of the solar one, they all celebrate both new years with big parties

Wears long airy dresses with flower patterns and a dozen crystal necklaces and rings

Talks enthusiastically about everything she's passionate about with no restraints (and everyone loves listening to her talk)

Knows weird knowledge nobody knows from where

Walks Hogwarts' halls singing and with a spring in her step

Spends afternoons in the forest sketching fantastic beasts and feeding them treats

Loves making flower crowns, Regulus wears them whenever she makes one for him and hexes anyone who dares say something about it

Always has paint on her hands or face

Dorcas Meadowes

"Say my name, as every colour illuminates. We are shining, and we will never be afraid again.

And when we come for you, we'll be dressed up all in blue, with the ocean in our arms, kiss your eyes and kiss your palms.

And when it's time to pray, we'll be dressed up all in grey, with metal on our tongues, and silver in our lungs."

- Spectrum (Say My Name) by Florence and The Machine

Hates small talk and superficial friendships

Direct, immediately cuts straight to the point

Politically active against all kinds of discrimination and violence

Strong and determined to achieve what she wants

Ready to argue with anyone, anytime, anywhere

Knows exactly what she wants

Stays up late to read and listen to music in the common room

Has everything planned out

Neon lights and cocktails, loud music and cherry flavored lip balm

Travels a lot but is ready to return home immediately if one of her close friends needs her help

Elegant style, always impeccably dressed

Storms out of the dorm and takes a long walk whenever she feels she can't control her anger

Loves to listen to true crime podcasts

------------------------💚🐍

So I love the Marauders' gang, but (I don't know if you guessed it) I really have a soft spot for the Skittles. To me they feel like the ones who never really even had a chance to be saved, who were left to fend for themselves and to die just because of their families and house. They were damaged as much as the others but found no one to help them but each other.

[s7arcr0sser]

I have to get this off my chest because I've seen these two get misunderstood a lot already, and with the little attention the pairing is given, maybe it's time to contribute some. If you're willing to read this please just keep an open mind, i understand that Buzz and Ozma aren't the fandom's favorite pairing especially because of the appeal some other non canon ships have (even i see it - i don't blame anyone for it) but it really makes me sad when bias influences people's ability to enjoy things outside of their main interest.

***i should also emphasize that this is just how i interpret it - the beauty of art is that it's subjective***

It always tics me off whenever someone says that Buzz is arrogant or anything of the type. The creators of the show describe his character as "...his biggest flaw is that he believes in his own legend." He's confident. He's overconfident even, which isn't without reason considering he has nearly 100% success rate. It's easy to confuse the two but the difference is in that, he does not belittle anyone and doesn't feel threatened by someone being as good as him or even better. There are times when he has joked at other people's expense (notably - Opposites attract, Speed trap and Plasma monster) but here's the catch - he always learns and by the end makes up for it. It's because he's not the stoic emotionless type of hero, he has personality and sometimes says things he doesn't fully think through. His whole team, Buzz included, loves throwing jabs at each other all the time, their goal never is to genuinely offend.

That leads to my next point. He always means well. Again, he never belittles ON PURPOSE. It's more or less confirmed he's introverted - before Team Lightyear, he worked alone and still loves spending time on his own. That means he likely spent most of his time around Warp and not much of anyone else, his communication skills aren't great because he focuses on his job too much and hasn't spent much time developing them. Sometimes he misses social cues and misunderstands situations or how people feel. He wasn't a jerk to Ty on purpose, everyone is constantly outdoing each other in praising his achievements so he had no idea it annoys Ty to pieces. The moment Buzz found out how he truthly feels he did everything he could to make up for it.

It's a recurring theme that Buzz isn't crazy about wildlife, it's not just his interactions with Ozma but the whole episode Dirty work is about that very topic. He's stubborn and because that's so far removed from his usual line of work he tries everything he can to use his old methods rather than to try something newer. Little by little he gives into it once he starts to allow himself to understand.

That character only cares about their working field, is willing to completely disregard anything that's outside of it, no matter how that may seem unethical to everyone else, and because they haven't gotten enough perspective from the other side they don't see why that's wrong, but is slowly learning throughout the show and could have gotten more development if the show continued.

I'm talking about Ozma this time. See how that can apply to both of them? Ozma is just as wrong as Buzz and they both can get across as irrational, but they actually are trying to protect what they believe in. Buzz doesn't care about nature and Ozma doesn't care about people - directly opposing fields, they are fighting for what the other would sacrifice. That's why their clash is so interesting, they have EVERYTHING in common, with just one difference that's so detrimental that it completely overwhelms their relationship.

Just like how Buzz is misunderstood to be arrogant, Ozma is misunderstood to be cold. She so isn't in the slightest. She treats the ugliest, most dangerous and scariest beast with utmost care and admiration, she gets excited at the sight of a rare specimen even if it could bite her head off in a second, and would risk her safety just to study or help it.

It's people where her enthusiasm dissolves, she is presented as introverted as well which is why sometimes she says things that don't come across all that great. Sure, sometimes she doesn't care because she's not interested in socializing, but she sometimes just doesn't know (example - the bloody water and floating guts comment in Beasts for Karn).

I gotta admit, it also confuses me how Buzz could come off as misogynistic towards Ozma - dammit that guy went in and memorized the most boring stuff in the universe (in his opinion) just to go in and try to impress her. He respects her work greatly - it's just in a field he's never cared for until now. Ozma could've been a male character and it would've been the same thing, because it's not Ozma herself that Buzz doesn't understand, but it's her cause.

He frankly just doesn't know how to act towards people he's interested in or that are interested in him. That's why he gives her unwanted validation - he's just genuinely impressed with her, which is why he's interested in the first place, but has no idea how to express it. He doesn't think any less of her.

Ozma was willing to team up with Zurg to protect the millennial bugs, Buzz was willing to kill Karnian beasts to get back on track with his mission. Both are just as bad, we gotta admit that. But throughout the three episodes we see them together, we see them learn to make more and more compromises for each other. They learn to see the other's perspective, and in their last chronological episode Return to Karn, they barely have fights at all (sure, there's a bit of banter, but it's nowhere near as agressive as it was before). I would kill to see how it would have progressed further.

She just reminds him of himself too much. Remember Good Ol' Buzz? He could barely stand himself because of how stubborn, abrupt and close minded he can be. It's the same thing with Ozma! She has the same traits, and so does he, and it turns into a screaming match until it turns into something else. Because that's just how they are.

So how the hell could this ever work for them? Simple - they are the only ones that could understand each other. With any other partner it would be "you chose your career over me!". If Buzz wasn't an awkward mess he could pull anyone he wants - he wants Ozma because she doesn't care who he is. Because she's brilliant, assertive, a badass and fearless. Because he has to prove himself and it doesn't come easy for him. If she doesn't care for his reputation, why is she interested? For the same reasons - he's just an awesome and determined person. He doesn't give up and believes in everything that is good, to the point of naivete. Because if anyone can give you hope in humanity's goodness, it's him.

And as much as I want to add the darker layer that Ozma might also be subconsciously reminding Buzz of Zurg but from a safe distance, that's a bit too much of a biased interpretation, and we might not be ready for that talk yet.

If you've read all of this, you're crazy, and thank you for coming to my ted talk

[kerorowhump]

i watched ep 226 and i have some thoughts about it...

keroro being suspected for something he didn't do is often par for the course, and granted it's both because of his status as an invader and for his tendency to actually cause trouble

[pictured: some examples off the top of my head of - mostly natsumi - assuming the worst from him]

but this episode to me is fascinating because of what else it brings up in relation to it. remember red oni blue oni? keroro's conflict about... on one side, keron, on the other, pekopon... about being seen as both the villain and the hero, so his position isn't threatened, while trying not to lose his friends on both sides. he doesn't actually want to be an invader, but it's tied to a lot of shit like his self esteem and... well, stuff I talked about in the past.

I think at least subconsciously he is afraid that his precarious position may blow up in his face eventually, and that is why he's jealous of everything that threatens it by being similar enough to him/receiving enough praise that he feels he might get replaced by it. he needs his position to be exclusive, because if it isn't, he doesn't have any merits for it ("leaders don't really do anything..." "I coasted along" "what makes me great?"). it feels like this is not just a random insecurity from lack of self esteem or fear from his unstable situation on its own (as an invader/"freeloader", feeling guilty for living in their house and causing them trouble) either, but ALSO projection from the fact that canonically yeah, he IS replaceable - that is a real constant threat for him. the clones? what makes him special?

[funny how many meetings keroro does where he's actually just venting lmao, he's got his priorities all out of whack ... or rather his feelings don't matter if they can't somehow be integrated into a mission?]

[pictured: the aformentioned projection dearimasu]

[keroro processing his feelings alone like he always does. loneliness and being misunderstood r such key parts of his character.]

But I think a similar emotion is true from Fuyuki's side, who's always been a bit lonely and overshadowed, so he'd be afraid of his trust being betrayed... but nevermind that, I like seeing keroro's situation specifically explored, because...

he knows he didn't do anything wrong, but his relationship with fuyuki means more than ego. he's willing to set it aside, and besides... it's easier with the guilt he already feels due to his situation, to apologize, because fuyuki means more to him than being right... his friends mean a lot to keroro, that's why relationship trouble with them so easily throws his emotions off balance. why he has to resort to everything else (denial, acting out, projection of guilt, people-pleasing, hiding how he feels, selfishness, etc), but with fuyuki in particular, I think it feels like the one relationship he hasn't messed up yet. honestly that person who said he's a dororo parallel was SO onto something...

they both love each other, but they're not infallible, so they'll let each other down, they'll misunderstand, they'll let their own feelings and fears and past experiences get in the way. they're not technically on the same side, after all

[the field trip misunderstanding... or you could say, keroro assumed earth is like keron? that they're two sides at war?]

but at the end of the day they still love each other, they are healing for each other and for what it's worth, they saved each other...

but that's the thing to me is that, by merely existing in his life, I think keroro feels like he's being a weight to him. that he's doing something wrong, that it's selfish of him to want to stay. that he has to earn it and yes, that he's not needed (AKA REPLACEABLE...).

trust is something that has to be built in a friendship but... due to keroro's situation... he can never fully prove himself one way or another (it would mean treason...) and in this ep I see the tragedy of that. fuyuki loves him, and generally trusts him, but it's not like keroro hasn't broken his trust in the past or gone too far, it's not like his planet and plans aren't still a danger for them, no matter how he feels about it...

[thomine]

This is my five billionth time trying to come up with something, so let’s go. Thank you! <3

I’d consider myself an ambivert that primarily prefers being alone to indulge myself in my hobbies, but also hates being lonely. While I wouldn’t consider myself sociable, I’m a friendly person. I can easily chat with most people. I love learning about people and hearing what they like to talk about. But my natural inclination is to cling to my alone time.

I am a very analytical person at heart. I like studying things to know why and how they work. This applies very much so to people. Because of this, I tend to be known as a smart person. At work, I am fast and accurate. I understand how my duties and others work in the big picture. I’m quick to notice when things are wrong and can point out where the error lies. I have a reputation for being a quick and reliable helper.

I’m generally known as a logical person. While I do have a temperament, I’m not seen as emotional. I make decisions with a level head. I’m not weak either. I love debates and arguments. I enjoy raising my voice. I do not hesitate to stand my ground if need be. If I get mad at someone, it’s typically because they’re contradicting themselves or saying something that makes no sense.

That being said, I’m lacking in many ways too. I’ve been told many times that I am a mean person. Apparently my way of speaking makes some feel like they’re being humiliated or mocked. I lack sympathy. I’m too outspoken. I serve primarily my own motives, not others. I’m stubborn, a know-it-all, selfish, etc etc etc.

My biggest insecurity is being misunderstood. I have a hard time verbalizing my feelings/opinions and conveying my intent which has gotten me in a lot of trouble in the past. That being said, what bothers me isn’t being seen as a good and kind person, but simply as being perceived inaccurately. I want to be understood as I am without changing myself to be more palatable to others. I may be selfish and unsympathetic, but I’m more than that.

So who would you pair me with? 👀 @paimonial-rage

this is a gift.

if you would like one of your own, please read my post here that lists what i'm willing to do and what to expect for a non-gift.

i wanted to pair you up with zhongli, ngl. but anyways, picture this:

you're in a debate with someone, temper agitated and argument points hot enough to dissolve your opponent's ego in the akademiya building. such a sight is common in the school, so you don't bother with the stares and looks knowing they'll treat you like background noise eventually. you raise your voice, disturbing those in the vicinity, but your adversary is literally covering their ears to combat your logical brilliance. it isn't long till they declare a stalemate. when you and your opposer part ways, you want to go home quickly but someone taps you on your shoulder...

it's tighnari. maybe you briefly recognize him considering his reputation in the academia and among the forest watchers. maybe you don't, but that doesn't bother him. reputation is just the backdrop of a person, not the person itself.

although... tighnari has heard of you. as you said, you're known as an analytical person, someone smart. he has a penchant for such people, and bonus if they can speak their minds. you're efficient, quick, reliable, which is everything tighnari wished he had in his colleagues. in some sense, perhaps he already has a small admiration for what he heard about you, but he's wary to place labels on these feelings. he doesn't know if you have a favorite color. he doesn't know if you like mushrooms. small steps, it's what he believes in, so when he sees the chance to approach you, he takes it without hesitation.

your debate intrigues him, and he has a few questions. he doesn’t mind talking to you there and then, but he has something to rush for in a few minutes. exchanging addresses to mail each other letters is the ideal thing to do.

you're not a sociable person, but that's not an issue for him. he's alright with initiating. anyways, he approached you, didn't he? after you exchange details, don't be surprised if you receive a letter here and there. at first, it's to expand on your argument, but casual topics are gradually discussed. and conversation, i believe, will flow smoothly with how you're open to hearing him ramble about his interest in plants and the ecosystems of the forest. it will be comfortable, and exciting in some ways, to have him write to you about the contraptions they use at the forest. from traps to capture berserk animals to their machinery of conveniences.

perhaps at some point in your brewing relationship, he invites you to the forest ranger's headquarters. tighnari's hands are shakier than expected, temperament more fragile than ice in the summer. he warns his colleagues with an infamous streak of trouble to not do anything silly, but of course something has to happen. a forest ranger carelessly discarded a trap they used in an old mission, causing the injuries of a wandering adventurer.

he's livid, marching silently towards the crime scene. he insisted that you stay at headquarters and wait for him, but somehow you find yourself tagging along. the guilty forest ranger is doing his best to deal with his mistakes, but his lack of knowledge on medicine makes it worse, causing tighnari's rage to grow.

it's not long till he raises his voice, eyes aimed at one person, tongue reprimanding left, right, front, center. the forest ranger shivers as if stripped naked in winter, and tighnari quickly deals with the adventurer's injuries.

he doesn't bring it up on the walk back or when he accompanies you out of the forest after a long day of planned (and unplanned) activities. instead, it's you. it's a levelheaded conversation, of tighnari's reaction, of the forest ranger's reactions, and ends with practical suggestions on how such situations can be minimized. he had people talk with him about his temper. they always say he acts out of line, but you don't, at least, not without understanding his point of view. you can see why he would be angry.

something clicks in him, and such a situation makes him crave your essence more.

hanging out with tighnari isn't tiring. he is a busy man so time is precious to him. he will plan and arrange days to do certain activities he thinks you might be keen on, but he'll also arrange times to do as each wishes, understanding the need to invest and indulge in one's passions. he doesn't need quick responses from his letters, and neither do you. it seems like he's an uptight person with all the planning, but he's actually extremely flexible, as required in the nature of his job.

of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows. there are times your harsh and straightforward ways of speech has irked tighnari in his times of stress. he does not appreciate having your words slice through his already thinning patience, and arguments can erupt. it doesn't help that both of you are stubborn. but, he does not fault you for the way you speak or the sides you take. in fact, when others call you selfish, he calls you reasonable. the first rule he learned in biology is that fools don't look after their own needs, and this also applies to humans.

eventually, after having thought through thoroughly of each person's position, logic will prevail. consensus and compromises formed, and arguments quelled.

you say your biggest insecurity is being misunderstood. tighnari is not one to quickly place judgement on people. since the very beginning, he is aware that what he hears of someone is not everything. as researcher of plants and organisms, he knows how assumptions suffocate the growth of a plant. one needs to pause, to observe, to notice, which is exactly what he is. he relies on his senses and experience and less on prediction and universal rules. he is someone in tune with his surroundings; always open to be proved wrong. as a researcher, isn't it exciting when you're faced with the truth that you don't know everything? there is no worry of making yourself palatable for him. he appreciates you as you are, and will do the best within his knowledge and means to make sure he understands you as you.

i hope you liked my analysis.... i'm sorry if it's not a structured as what you did for me, or as interesting or accurate (idk??). i found it pretty hard to write without incorporating some sort of scenario or story so i hope that's alright!

[artoodeetootired]

jere doesn’t deserve (all of) the hate he gets

alright, can i just say that although i didn’t read past the first book, i have read TONS of comments and justifications and explanations as to why people think Conrad is better than Jere. That is completely subjective, I get it.

But why are people invalidating Jere’s right to be angry? Literally??? Like, bro, I get you have favs but are u really telling me that the guy can’t even be upset at Belly for what she did to him?

Some people are literally saying how manipulate he was for bringing up his dying mother, and how Conrad was probably gonna break her heart. First, he found out way later than he should have, which gave him less time to process it. Yet, what did he do? Immediately help Beck through it. Second, was he wrong LMAO. He’s seen it happen over and over again with his own feelings for Belly, but never said anything because he knew Belly and Conrad were something of an unbreakable bond. Third, she literally kissed his brother 3 days after an already established relation/situationship with Belly. You’re telling me he was in the wrong here while Conrad was in the grey area that allowed him some sort of immunity for his actions??

Now, let’s move on to whether or not Jere loved Belly before or after she turned prettier. I’m sorry, but Conrad also said that he always saw her as a little kid/sister or some shit as well. Jere said that she was always his best friend. They BOTH found new feelings for her, because that’s literally just how teenagers work. If you want childhood friends to lovers, then you have to expect a switch from FRIENDSHIP to LOVE at some point- and neither of them experienced it BECAUSE she was prettier, but because she was more than just a little kid then.

“No, he was forced to stay with her in that flashback”. YEAH, then he stayed a week more until HE got sick??? I’m not even gonna explicitly detail all the times he’s also backed her up, supported her, been her best friend. The fact that he let her love Conrad was enough proof that he did love her enough to let her go.

Please don’t bring up the books again, because to use reasons from the story’s “future” when the present is still being played out is just bs. We don’t even know what could happen by the end of it all, what with Jenny Han changing loads of details. Was Steven and Shayla/Taylor in the books? No. Was Skye, an extremely annoying hindrance, in the books? No. Was Conrad and Belly doing it for her first time by the fireplace in the books? No.

And I can’t even begin to describe how frustrating it is to see people literally ignore the scene where Conrad visits the house. Like how tf are you just going to let that slide IM CACKLING. Jere, at the table stressing over bills during his senior year. Conrad, appearing out of nowhere to pay a very friendly visit. And, pray tell, what does Conrad do? He performs a confession of his love to his younger brother who he knows had/s feelings for Belly, when Jere was probably thinking he’d rather accept help with the insurance instead. Then off Conrad goes to see his mother without another word, after getting what he wanted.

And also, can I just say how BAD Conrad’s communication skills are? Like fr, my dude had to carry news of Beck’s cancer all on his own. But to me, you don’t lash out at other people and lead two girls on at once because of something you can’t even explain your behaviour for. Believe it or not, the way he acted like an asshole was a product of his inability to open up. And I get it, I totally do ‘cause I and ppl in general handle shit like that sometimes. But the miscommunication is what broke Belly, his brother, his friends, and Laurel multiple times in the first place. If you want to bring up Jere’s “manipulative” behaviour, then you’ll also have to address Conrad’s “misunderstood” behaviour, when it was really just him lashing out on everyone else.

Honestly, to me, Belly really was the problem. But I guess people find that a more provocative topic to accept. Idc who she ends up with, or who people think is better/best. I just went on this crazy rant because I truly think that it’s insane how people have managed to invalidate Jere’s feelings. This isn’t because I’m crazy about the show or the characters, but it’s because it does reflect on other people’s thought processes when they see the conflict of emotions between 3 people who should be listened to. Except that one of them isn’t being heard at all. Why? Because he cheated on her in the book no one knows is going to stay true within the show.

We all know that Jenny Han has made MAJOR plot changes and I am not gonna be dismissed just cause I didn’t read the books. I watched the series, and I am only commenting on what happens in the series. If people keep using this argument instead of the facts WITHIN the series, then maybe some rethinking needs to be done.