#screams such a childlike behavior

[3-aem]

going insane all by urself handsome?

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

[acontrariis]

chapter 4. the queen's land.

pairing. Aemond Targaryen x Vienna Targaryen (OC) word count. 4.3K warnings. harsh language, some threats of maiming, stalkerish behavior.

⋆ prev. chapter

Zyros being fairly smaller than Vhagar, as every other living dragon, came quite in handy for his plan to work out. 

It was simple enough for them to be able to pull it out, so simple Vienna had her suspicions of it actually working out. The waning moon was the only source of light in the dark of the night. It was exhilarating, her heart was beating so hard it hurt her ribs, the shallow breathing barely filling her empty lungs.

A strong “Sōvēs” urged the dragons to take flight as the young riders braced themselves. 

She was terrified.

He was spiraling.

It was exhilarating.

It was insane.

The pain from unused muscles she never knew she had, the warmth of the dragon’s body underneath her, the rope cutting onto her skin.

She felt alive.

Seeing Aemond riding Vhagar was a vision in itself. His composure and control, showed the confidence of someone who had been born to fly a dragon. 

And for the first time in her life, Vienna felt she was exactly where she belonged.

They took their time, to the possible onlookers, it was just the Prince on an evening stroll across the skies. 

To them, it was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

That short flight had changed something in them, they could both feel it. Her rosy cheeks and watery eyes, not yet used to the cold wind, were met with the pure joy of a childlike laugh. 

The happy sound echoed through the clouds, infecting the previously stoic prince, who felt the smile that had yet to leave his face. He felt like a child again, riding for the very first time, the loud thumping in his veins reminding him how alive he was.

This was the most fun either of them had in, well, their entire lives. 

Once they put enough distance between them and the Red Keep, Vienna felt confident enough to challenge him to a race. 

The two dragons danced through the skies following a symphony only they could hear. 

She couldn’t believe this was happening. The years of longing, the haunting cries and ignored prayers had finally paid off. 

Vienna could feel Zyros’ breath as her own, their hearts beating as one in the middle of the night sky.

Tomorrow she would be in trouble. Tomorrow they would yell and reprimand her. She was sure she would be grounded starting tomorrow.

But today… Today she was flying with her dragon for the very first time and no one would take that away from her. 

Neither of them knew how long they were in the air for. Any concept of time lost between childish giggles and excited screams. 

By the time they made it to Driftmark, glimpses of the warm morning light were seen peeking through the sky. 

The cold night air had frozen their cheeks, while the excitement raised their heartbeat.

They found themselves back at the beginning, now with 2 dragons, instead of one. 

And double the secrets than last time.

An awkward silence grew, as the dragons settled on the clover field.

The shining purple from her eyes took him back to another time and Aemond felt the need to say something, as the more she looked at him, the more nervous he became. 

He took a short breath, and offered her his best smile. The one he tended to use when needing to appear calm, in control. 

- “I am Prince…”

He cut himself mid sentence, an unknown shyness overcoming him. 

- “Aemond… My name is Aemond.”

- “I know who you are, Your Highness.”

Aemond flinched at the title. He couldn’t explain it even to himself, but the distance it implied bothered him. 

She bowed before him, a sign of respect she felt he had earned after helping her escape and that sign also helped her further distance herself from him. She liked him, there was no point denying it, nor would she even bother to try. 

As a child she had fallen in love at first sight, like the fairytales Marmee used to read her to sleep. She knew that, and as she grew, came to terms with the heartbreak of her youthful infatuation.

Through the years, the times she thought of him lessened, yet never stopped. She couldn’t help paying more attention when his name was mentioned, an innocent interest that always ended in the same prayer: I hope he’s happy.

- “Thank you, truly. I could never repay you for what you did tonight.”

- “You could tell me your name, to start.”

At that, she let out a little laugh. So much for playing mysterious. 

- “Vienna.”

- “Very nice to meet you again, Vienna.”

She always heard of butterflies and running hearts, and though there was no denying the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, hearing his voice call out her name washed a calming wave over her. 

He wished their interaction was longer. He had so many questions to ask. 

The impending light of the sun warning their time running out. 

A battle of what needed to be done, the looming consequences of their actions and his desire to learn more about her. 

With a small nod signaling a goodbye, she had turned to leave, as he followed every step with his eyes, when she suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked at him over her shoulder. She knew it was time to leave, but that tug in her heart begged to stay if just for an extra minute. 

She just wanted to ask him one last thing, and then she would let him go, she swore to herself. 

- “Are you happy?”

The sincere worry in her voice startled him. He’d heard the question before, mainly as a snarky remark after doing something explicitly disapproved. 

He wanted to reassure her, erase the worry lines between her brow, and yet he didn’t want to lie to her. 

Unsure how to answer the question, he gave her the most sincere answer he could muster. 

- “I’m okay.”

She hesitated for a moment, looking for something, he didn’t know what, in his expression. An eternal second later, as she appeared satisfied, a nod followed her sweet smile. 

Aemond wanted to reach out and touch it… touch her. Fisting his hand on his side, to avoid any further indiscretions, he settled for a curt nod in response. 

As he made his way back home, a cunning smirk adorned his face. 

They would be seeing each other soon, he would make sure of that.

⸺

It took Aemond 9 days to find out everything about her.

… Not that he was counting. 

No one in the castle would openly talk about the missing dragon. 

Most didn’t even know the creature existed, so it wasn’t hard to hide its disappearance, and those who did, preferred to pretend nothing had happened. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, a dragon disappearing in the middle of the night.

Of those that did know, and that were certainly concerned about the beast’s whereabouts, not a word was heard.

No one had directly confronted him or asked about his whereabouts that night. Though, he could feel his family’s stare and notice the hushed conversations that quieted when he came near. 

There wasn’t any point in hiding his actions, not that he ever tried, and once he had all the information he needed, it was time for him to act. 

The King had long stopped attending the morning assembly, leaving it to his Hand and the Queen to deal with their subjects and the everyday handling of delicate matters. 

A formal request such as this would probably best be handled behind closed doors. In the privacy of their chambers. Hell, it would probably be better that he just crashed a Council meeting. 

He knew, however, that if he didn’t make enough noise, the entire thing would just be swept under the rug. 

Who knows what they may even do to her. 

He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her. 

Silence reigned as the guards announced his presence. The crowd of commoners parting like the red sea to make way for the Prince to step forward. 

Aemond remained stoic, his well-trained mask never slipping, as the heels of his boots hit the ground. Each step bringing him closer to the sworded throne.

Murmurs and hushed whispers was all he could hear, as he knelt in front of the iron throne. 

The question in Alicent’s eyes was clear as she turned to look at her father. It was rare for Aemond to attend these assemblies, and not once had he made a public request. 

- “My Queen, I kneel today before you to ask for your merciful virtue.”

The theatrics had never been his favorite, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make use of them when needed. 

- “It was I who stole the rogue dragon from the pit a few nights ago.”

Alicent could feel the blood draining from her face, as the murmurs increased. This was unspoken of. She had no idea what was going through his mind. 

- “I beg for your forgiveness and consideration, for I meant no harm to our family. I simply returned it to their rightful owner. As I’m sure Father would want me to.”

He could almost laugh, his father was the one that had locked the dragon there. Not that any of these peasants knew that. 

Bowing his head, he softened his face portraying all the regret he couldn’t bring himself to feel.

- “I ask now for your forgiveness and blessing for the woman I intend to marry.”

A choired exclamation filled the room as everyone looked back between the Prince and his mother, who now looked like she wanted to take one of the swords near and throw it at her son. 

As Otto signaled the guards to dismiss the public, Alicent could feel her indignation and fury overcoming her. 

That child was the embodiment of embarrassment and disappointment and he now intended to marry her? Was it not enough to give her a dragon, putting them in danger? How could he do this to her? 

As her rant went on, Aemond calming stood up, patting the dust off his knees. They really needed to do a better job at cleaning this place up. 

- “… And certainly not that… that bastard! I will not–” 

She’s a rider… Aemond’s bored whisper interrupted the Queen’s rant.

- “She’s a rider, Mother.” 

He paused, a decided exhale. 

- “She has Targaryen blood, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to ride.” 

And then he added, as if that wasn’t clear enough. “She’s not a bastard.”

- “I have never asked for anything. I’ve been the perfect son to you and Father, I’ve dedicated my life to being whatever you needed me to. So, as I did years ago, once again, I’m not asking, I’m claiming what’s mine.” 

He stared straight at her, refusing to bow his head as she looked back at him in shock. 

- “I’m choosing Vienna, whatever the cost, for as long as she’ll have me.” 

⸺

- “So the dragon thief turned out to be the whore that broke my hand.” 

Aegon’s voice rang through the hallway. Aemond hurriedly covered his mouth as he slammed him against the wall. 

The hard thud of his head hitting the stone echoed through the castle walls. 

The short haired man was surprised, to say the least, a nervous laugh leaving his body in muffled sounds. He couldn’t believe it. They had never been exactly caring, but Aemond hated touching him. This rage for a comment he knew was meant to pick at him? This was new. 

- “I don’t care that we happen to share the same blood, talk about her again and I will slice your throat and leave your body for the pigs to feast. It will be days before anyone notices you’re gone and I have no problem taking on the role of the Eldest Son, everyone here knows I’ve already been doing the work anyway.”

The color had drained from Aegon’s already pale face, all the laughter quieted down as he felt a drop of warm blood running down his neck. 

There were few people in this life that scared him, his mother being at the top of the list. Through the years, Aemond had become a strong contender for first place. He knew he wasn’t kidding. 

There wasn’t an ounce of humor on his piercing blue eye and he could feel his blood freeze in fear. 

They remained silent for a few minutes, enough for Aemond to feel satisfied by the terror in his brother’s eyes, before letting him go. As the Eldest held against the wall and tried to conceal the coughs from his labored breathing, the long haired man walked away and prepared for his trip.

⸺

Vienna had been ready for the yelling and the cursing, she was even ready to see Marmee finally snap. She said to herself she would understand it, after all, she broke more rules that were worth counting.

That early morning, as she made her way to her chambers, Vienna prepared herself for the chaos she had surely caused. 

What waited for her was entirely different, however.

Marmee’s arms wrapping around her and holding onto her as soft sobs left her was the welcome she received.

- “Thank the gods you are safe. Oh, my child, I am so happy you came back.”

Vienna started to apologize to be quickly cut off, her caretaker holding her by her shoulders so she could see her face.

- “You have nothing to apologize for, not to me, not to anyone else. Do you understand me?”

The young princess could feel her own tears filling her eyes, the events of the past night finally downing on her exhausted body. She had been so scared. 

- “You did nothing wrong, Vienna, I need you to understand that. You are a Targaryen, you survived against all odds and took back your dragon, your birthright. This is what your parents wanted for you. I am so proud of you.”

That was more than she could take, the tears freely flowing as she wept like a child in the old woman’s arms. 

Neither of them let go of the embrace, until the cries had settled down. Tired and hungry, the princess made her way to her chambers, where a warm bath and breakfast was prepared. 

It was already dark when she woke up from her slumber, pained groans caused by her sore muscles. 

A loud thud, from her aching body falling onto the ground as she hurried to leave the bed, startled the maids outside, who ran inside to check on her.

A terrified expression covered her face, as she held onto the maids to regain her footing. 

- “Zyros, my dragon, where-where is she? Is she okay? Did they take her? Where…”

She was choking, her lungs refused to take in any oxygen, frozen by fear.

She’s safe.

A long inhale that made her dizzy as she felt the dragon’s presence, a wave of relief washing over her. 

Zyros was resting in the field from that morning. Someone had even fed her. She was still there. 

As Vienna calmed herself down, slowing down her breathing and focusing on her surroundings, the maids informed her presence was requested at dinner. 

Each layer of her dress felt like armor was being put on. 

The common room felt bigger, emptier in sight, the phantom whispers filled every corner. 

Only Rhaenys sat at the table, Corlys left sometime earlier for the sea. 

Her presence alone felt suffocating, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the fire and her utensils hitting the plate. 

- “Nice of you to join me. Have a seat.”

She was taken back to being a child, every fiber in her being was telling her she had to leave, again. 

Mustering all the strength she could, she kept her pace calm, a stoic mask as her face. 

Silence remained for well into a quarter of an hour. As Vienna fought the knots in her stomach and forced the food down, she almost thought Rhaenys wouldn’t say anything, until she did.

- “A proper saddle is being prepared for you, I imagine you’ll have to be there when they put it on your dragon, as it does not appear to be very friendly.”

Vienna’s eyes and mouth opened and closed, a dumbfounded expression as she absorbed the information. It took her a minute to find her words, all while Rhaenys finished her dinner, not paying her any mind.

- “T-thank you.”

- “Of course.”

As Rhaenys stood gracefully, Vienna continued frozen. 

As fast as her sore muscles allowed her, she stopped Rhaenys before leaving.

- “Wait! I… Aren’t you mad at me?”

- “Would you like me to be mad at you?”

- “No, well… No, but I mean… I would understand if you were.” 

Rhaenys face softened, an expression she had rarely, if ever, shown the young woman. One could almost think there was a smile hidden there. 

- “You’re a rider, you need a saddle. I don’t see anything more to discuss.”

She took her hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, an unfamiliar gesture Vienna couldn’t bring herself to fully accept. 

Without any more words, Rhaenys made her way out, as Vienna slumped down on her chair and replayed the last hour back in her head.

What the hell is going on?

 ⸺

For Vienna, a new normal was established. 

She would take turns between her regular lessons and her afternoon flights with Zyros to her walks by the beach as the warm glow of the dusk illuminated the skies. 

It was there where Aemond found her that afternoon. 

The water splashed around her, her dress hitched up to her knees as she skipped from one rock to the next. 

She was a vision. Her youthful smile shone brightly under the warm sunlight, her graceful movements almost a dance following a song only she could hear.

Hesitant to disturb the peaceful scene, Aemond leaned against a rock to silently witness. 

It took Vienna a few minutes to notice her uninvited companion, her thoughts more entertained with the fish swimming beside her. 

As she turned to make her way back to the house, she noticed the tall figure looking at her. The surprise almost made her slip, as Aemond instinctively reached for  her. 

His former pristine boots now wet, still he stretched out his hand towards her and pulled her towards his chest. 

- “Are you okay?”

This had to be, by far, the most romantic scene in Vienna’s short life. 

Dear heavens, with how close they were, all that was left was that he kissed her passionately and confessed his love.

Immerse in her own fantasies, all she could muster as a response was a slow nod. 

Aemond smiled softly, amused by the way her eyes ranked over him, how her mouth opened letting out a silent cry as she felt her feet slipping, the way her face scrunched up as a million question raced through her mind, to finally land on a panic expression, her eyes quickly drifting to the hill where Zyros rested and back to him.

- “You can’t take her, I won’t let you.”

Even as her voice cracked, her resolve didn’t falter. He could see the fire in her eyes, and had no doubt she would first drown him right then and there, than let him take her dragon from her. 

Lifting his hands in surrender, he slowly let her go, so as to not destabilize her footing. 

- “I’m not. I won’t. I’m here for you.”

Taking the hand he offered, Vienna followed him to the stairs that connected back to the castle. 

A quaint little table with refreshments waited for them. Vienna arched a brow while directing a look towards the windows, she could feel the women’s looks from there.

Once they sat down, he was the first one to break the silence. A bit of small talk, as manners dictated. He wanted to know if she was doing okay, how had Zyros been settling in, and even invited her for a ride later, he said. 

As the conversation progressed, she forced herself to relax and focus on his words, she figured if he had come to take Zyros back or arrest her, none of this would be necessary. 

Still, her worries were not easily quieted, as hard as he tried to calm her down with casual talk.

Aemond didn’t let his own nervous show, being careful to keep a steady rhythm to his words, filling the silence with composed remarks. 

As he ran out of things to say, and noticed how futile his attempts to appease her had been, he blurted out the one thing that had brought him back here, saying the last thing she could’ve  ever expected.

- “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage. Since your guardians have been the Velaryon for the last few years, I took the liberty of asking for their permission, which they granted, of course. It was merely a formality, really. I would like us to have the wedding soon. You can then move in with me at King’s Landing, your dragon will also be welcomed, of course…”

- “Wait, wait, what? What do you mean by marriage? We can’t get married, we barely know each other!” 

- “Arranged marriages are a common practice between our people, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

- “When they make sense, politically or economically, we’re short in both departments.”

- “I would disagree with you there. You’re the only Targaryen with no real ties to anyone, you possess a young and strong dragon. That alone makes you a potential threat in the eyes of the court, which would be easily solved by becoming my wife. I am the second Prince, just like my brother fulfilled his duty before me, I also have to find someone that is worthy to carry on our blood and I see no better match than you.”

He seemed proud, like a child waiting for their mother’s approval after reciting a speech. 

She was petrified, all the information racing through her mind as her blood boiled. She couldn’t believe she had ever found him attractive, when all she could think about was to stab him in his remaining eye with the butter knife she gripped on tightly.

- “I see. It seems you have thought this through.”

He nodded, glad she understood.

Only, she wasn’t done. She took a deep breath as her emotions quieted down, a cold rage flowing through her veins.

- “Since we’re here making requests, I have one of my own... For me to accept your proposal. I want your brother’s head on a golden platter… Or no, even better, your mother’s head.” 

She made a small pause as a cynical smile formed on her face.

- “I also want to be there when you take it from her.” 

He froze for a second, leaving the dramatic connotation aside, what she spoke of was the highest treason and she looked as if she was discussing the desserts on the table.

- “You can’t, can you? That’s quite alright, it’s a good thing you’re loyal. A loyal pet to the wrong people.” 

Her smile lacked sincerity, it was merely a hard mask she had perfected through the years, no cracks in sight. He merely looked at her, a battle of stares, each inspecting the other, as if trying to read into each other’s souls. 

Without breaking their contact, a new smile showed on her face, this one filled with sadness as she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. 

- “You’re wasting your time here, Your Highness. I can’t give you what you want, and you’re smart enough to know that already.”  

- “I want you, is that so impossible for me to have?” 

- “Is that supposed to be some sort of compliment? What exactly do I gain from that arrangement?” 

- “Freedom. Away from this moldy cage…” 

- “And into a new cage, right next to your mother and all the snakes of the Capital. A golden prison is still a prison. Tell me, are you even allowed to roam the city? I bet not. Not without her permission at least.” 

- “What’s your fixation with my mother?” 

She paused for a moment, while deciding how to respond. 

- “You know when was the last time I visited King's Landing? Before last week, of course."

He shook his head, but she wasn't really waiting for his answer.

- “I was about five years old. Marmee wanted me to be closer to Zyros... and to my family."

At the word, a disgusted scowl left her. 

- “She thought it would be good. I was older and she didn't think they would turn their own blood away."

A sardonic smile covered her face as she stared at the water behind him, her glazed eyes as memories took her back.

- “We traveled for an entire week, I got so sick I still can't get inside a carriage without barfing. Still, we made it."

Then, she looked directly at him and, for a moment, Aemond could see all the hate she felt inside.

- “We wouldn't be allowed an audience. Even after telling them who I was, they just laughed in our faces. It was the Queen's orders, they said. There are enough bastards in the Red Keep." 

Her eyes squinted faintly, as she scanned his face, analyzing every micro expression. 

- “Not long after, I was sold as a child bride to Lady Arryn's younger brother.”

It was Aemond’s turn to scowl in disgust now. He already knew most of this, bits and pieces he could gather, but hearing it from her filled him with a rage he hadn’t known before.

- “I have a really good memory, you see. And I’m told I got the pettiness from my late father, so do not doubt for a second that given the chance, I will have no hesitation in burning your family to the ground. Hence why I can’t marry you, Aemond.” 

That was the first time she said his name since that night at the dragonpit and he loved it, he wanted to hear more. His train of thoughts stopped as she rose from her chair and adjusted her dress. 

- “You’re welcome to stay and enjoy the refreshments, but I would advise you to not waste any time and go back home.”

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[fluffywings13]

Fearsome King Of Curses and Tiger Cub Ward Headcanons (Part 2)

So going off my last post of this, here's some more for you, because I can't get over Giant OG!Sukuna and tiny Baby Yuuji (not really baby but you know!)

~ Yuuji has abandonment fears due to Life in General. Often times he steals something from Sukuna's chambers or Throne Room so he always has a reason to be come for when there's business the Curse has to attend to that he can't be present for. (He thinks Sukuna doesn't know of his sticky finger habits---Sukuna totally does)

~ Sukuna purposefully leaves important objects within the boy's line of sight and reach before he's dismissed to play or the like when he can't be present, at first he was confused as to why the little imp stole his scarf under it dawned on him.

~ The first time he got into real trouble with Sukuna, like crossed the line far too much to be dealt with by a sharp scolding, little Yuuji was so petrified due to *trauma* he wet himself while sobbing out apology after apology. Then he wailed because he wet himself like a baby and that usually means harsher punishment from his experience.

~ The first few times Yuuji faces actual punishment for misbehaving or disobeying he wets himself out of fear. Sukuna never gets angry at him. He just helps clean him up, still delivers punishment of course, but only after he explains why it's happening and that he'd never do to him what the Villagers did.

~ Sukuna kills all of those who minded his little Tiger Cub before they met because of the fear the instilled in his child. Yuuji doesn't know. He intends to keep it that way.

~ The first time Sukuna comes home covered in blood after ravaging a village for whispers of what they intended to do to the supposed discovery of the King Of Curses one true weakness (Yuuji) he gets scolded by this tiny little six year old for dragging blood inside. (Yuuji doesn't care enough to ask where the blood came from only that it got on the rugs)

~Uraume has witnessed them napping together in various places but always in the same position more times then They can count. Sukuna resting on his back with his little bundle of human cub secure in his four arm embrace. Sometimes Yuuji's thumb is hanging out of his mouth. Only happens when he's really content so they see no reason to put an end to the childlike behavior he should have grown out of.

~ Yuuji likes to say Sukuna's belly mouth smells like feet while putting his little tiny feet in front of it teasingly. He never manages to pull those little things back in time to save them from being nibbled to death by said belly mouth.

~ Yuuji's favorite time of year is Winter because Snow and he likes to play in it.

~ Sukuna's least favorite time of year is Winter because Snow and the brat plays in it even after he's called to return inside where it's warm and always ends up catching a cold because of it.

~ Sick Yuuji is surprisingly docile. He latches on. Snuggles in. And won't allow you to set him down until he decides he wants down. Sukuna never fights him on it. In fact, pulls him closer and bundles him up even more. Child can't be cold while with sickness obviously.

~ Sukuna holds Yuuji seated on the palm of a single one of his hands when taking care of business the child can be privy to.

~ Yuuji personally sees to it that Sukuna's cleaned of all blood when he returns from his 'Yuuji-Less Adventures' and his scolding is only cut off when the massive Curse tugs him into the steaming water with him. Squeals replace the adorable scamps scoldings.

~ The first time Yuuji calls Sukuna 'Chichi' is after a bad night terror that had him soiling his futon and screaming shrill in the deep night. Sukuna melted then and there. (Yuuji sleeps with Sukuna from then on because bad dreams are too scared to haunt the little one when he's there with him--That's what Sukuna says anyway--Yuuji never has another bad dream again.)

[kaiaden]

Kai’s Temper

Summary: Kai accidentally harms Lloyd with his fire by accident. Wu taught Kai many things after this. Ep. 17 “The Administration”.

Fic:

“Why isn’t Heatwave healing faster?! Are you sure the crystal goo is still working Kai?” Wyldfyre asked, concerned and worried. Wyldfyre turned to Heatwave and Kai turned to her.

 “Things like this take time.” Kai said, but then Wyldfyre turned back to him. 

“No they don’t!” Wyldfyre yelled out. “Heatwave has to get better! And we have to get that Dragon Core back to the other Ninja! And this is taking forever!” Wyldfyre grunted in anger. 

“Impatience makes everything worse, Wyldfyre.” Kai told the angry teen, trying to calm her down. “It clouds your judgment and you make bad decisions. Trust me. I know from experience.” Kai grimaced, thinking about all the horrible decisions he’s made, as well as his deepest regrets. 

“But we can’t just do nothing!” Wyldfyre cried out, trying to make a point. She whipped tears off of her face. “You wanted to learn some of Master Wu’s techniques? Try this. Moving through forms. It’ll help you focus, to be in the moment.” Kai said, and started to perform some of the forms his master had taught him. 

“Standing in one place, moving super slow? I told you, I can’t do nothing!” The teen huffed out, before turning to Heatwave, who had whined out in pain. 

“This isn’t nothing, you’ll see.” Wyldfyre sighed out, before getting into the same position and copied him. But she kept getting distracted by Heatwave. She suddenly lost her cool. “I can’t do this! I can’t stop worrying about Heatwave!” Wyldfyre said, and turned to Heatwave, Kai following suit. “He’s never been hurt like this before.” 

“When you’re worried is exactly when this is most helpful. You are not your emotions. Focus on your form, let the emotions pass through you.” Kai began to re-perform the form.

 “You pass through you!” Wyldfyre yelled out in anger and frustration. Effectively breaking Kai out of his focus. “You’re patient, I'm not, remember?” Wyldfyre pointed out, before Kai burst out into fits of laughter.

 “Okay, no one has ever called me ‘patient’. I’m the hothead, in more ways than one. Master Wu had me practice my forms. I was never as good as the others, but Ninja never quit. So I kept going until it worked enough to calm me down. And if it can work for me, it can work for anyone. Even you, because you kind of remind me of someone.” Kai said, staring at Wyldfyre, who looked unimpressed. 

“Who? Master Wu?”

 “No! Me! You remind me of me! So, if you're ready, let’s try again.” Wyldfyre sighed out, before again, copying Kai’s movements. 

—

Once Wyldfyre calmed down, They both sat down around the fire. “How did you know that these…forms…and the crystal goo, would work?” The teen asked. Kai looked down at the floor. 

“Master Wu taught me that, but the context of the situation was the problem.” Kai told the teen, his gaze darkening.

“What is this…con-tex-t?” Wyldfyre asked, genuinely confused. 

“Let me tell you a story. It isn’t an exhilarating one, but maybe it can teach you a thing or two.” Kai said, turning his head to Wyldfyre. 

Wyldfyre nodded excitedly. “Yes! A story!” Kai chuckled at this, she reminded him of himself, but also Lloyd’s childlike behavior. 

“One time, a few years ago, I ended up failing a mission. I was so angry, because it was a simple mistake that caused me to fail it.” Kai spoke, and began recalling the memory. 

—

“UGHH!!” Kai groaned in anger. He kept on punching the dummy. “It’s all my fault!” Kai yelled out. Lloyd was outside the door with a worried look on his face. He could hear Kai screaming from outside the monastery. They had just beaten Morro, and Kai was already frustrated from that. Kai kept hitting the dummy. But he was so angry that he didn’t notice that he had started to use his fire. 

After listening to Kai beat up the dummies, Lloyd decided he would check up on Kai. Lloyd walked in. “Hey Kai-“ Lloyd was cut off by a searing pain in his torso. He screamed out in agony. 

“LLOYD!” Kai screamed out. Lloyd had fallen, but Kai caught him before he hit his head on the ground. Kai was panicking. Everyone was gone, they were either on a mission or out doing something. Kai was forced to sit out on missions for a couple of days, and Lloyd was on recovery time. 

Kai carried Lloyd to their medical room and laid him down in one of the beds. Lloyd was groaning and crying. Kai grabbed the front of Lloyd’s gi and carefully pulled it open. He cringed when he saw some of it stick to Lloyd’s injury. When he got a full view of the wound, Kai wanted to throw up. The burn was pretty bad. Kai suspected that it would be a second or even worse, a third degree burn. He tried to remember what Zane had taught him about how to treat severe burns.

That’s when he heard the doors to the monastery open and Kai ran out of the medical room to see who it was. Hopefully it was Zane. When Kai ran out, he spotted Wu and ran to him. “Kai? What is wrong?” 

“Lloyd! Fire! Accident! I’m so sorry!” Kai managed to yell out in a panic, he was having a hard time breathing.

“Kai, show me where Lloyd is.” Wu said, trying to distract the panicked ninja. 

Kai led Wu to the medical room. When they walked in, Wu walked over and examined Lloyd. “Follow me Kai. We don’t have long. Lloyd can’t go untreated.” Wu said, and gently grabbed Kai’s wrist and led him to the monastery’s entrance. 

When Kai was in the forest, he began to ask questions about what they were doing, more like what Wu was doing. “Why are you smashing rocks! We can’t just do nothing! Lloyd is not getting any better from us smashing things on the ground!” Kai said he was getting more and more impatient.

“Impatience makes everything worse Kai.” Wu told the angry and frustrated teen. “It clouds your judgment and you make bad decisions.” Wu finally broke open a rock. He showed it to Kai. 

“This is what we’re looking for. Find more like this.” Wu instructed his student. Kai began smashing and then finding more blue crystals. 

When Wu was leading him back to the monastery, Kai and Wu found a total of 6 crystals. Kai was still frustrated and confused, but he had learned not to question his master so easily. 

Wy led Kai back to the medical room and placed the crystals down. “What are we supposed to do with these?” Kai asked, turning his gaze to his little brother, whom he had hurt.

“Melt these with your fire.” Wu said, ignoring the teen's question. Kai did as he was told and melted the crystal into a gooey like substance. “Now put it on Lloyd’s burn and spread it around.” Kai again, did as he was told and placed the goo on Lloyd. 

“What is this supposed to even do-“ Kai cut himself off as he had noticed Lloyd's burn was a lot less red, and the skin wasn’t as irritated. Kai repeated the same process until Lloyd’s burn was fully covered. “How did you know that this would help?” Kai asked, not letting his gaze leave his brother, who had finally calmed down and seemed to be in less pain. Wu turned to his student. 

“This crystal can be found anywhere in the 16 realms and has a very great burn-healing agent. You just need to calm down and see things from a different perspective. “You are not your emotions Kai.” Wu told Kai, who had turned to his master. 

—

“So that’s how you knew about that crystal goo.” Wyldfyre said, she surprisingly was silent throughout the whole story. 

“Yup! Like my master had told me, not all lessons are about fighting. A ninja is more than their fighting skills. It’s not about the size of the ninja in a fight, it’s about the size of the fight in the ninja.” Kai said, and Wyldfyre turned to Heatwave. Kai looked at the teen and saw so much potential. But he also saw himself. Maybe she’ll come around to the idea of being a ninja and on a team. Maybe one day.

[weepinwriter]

“Within the depths of my being, a haunting familiarity lingers. Dread intertwines desire with uncertainty, and I wonder. Who are you?

Name : Nikita

Age : He is in his mid thirties

Height : 6’1

Appearance : Graceful, refined, and sophisticated: you’ll never see Nikita without a small, knowing smile gracing his porcelain face, accentuating his dark, knowing green eyes. Overall, he is rather monochrome, wearing your usual black suit, white-button up, and black tie tailor-made to fit his towering form of 6'1" and match his neatly cut black hair, which is often swept to the side to fall over his left eye (which if you look closely enough to, reflects a crescent moon). And if that wasn’t already enough to make everyone and their mother fall for him, he also likes to wear form-fitting slim black gloves. Additionally he has a scar, a very long and jagged scar that wraps around their left blade and trails all the way down their back in a zig-zagged fashion right down to their tailbone. And a long scar running across his throat.

Personality : Nikita is a very complex individual to deal with, who can be described as a mix of childlike curiosity and mature behavior. He has a calm and relaxed demeanor, but can also be cold and ruthless. Nikita enjoys pushing people's buttons and is proud of his intelligence and attractiveness. He is a skilled manipulator and cannot be trusted completely. He enjoys playing mind games with the inmates, taunting and provoking them relentlessly for some sort of reaction, anything to amuse him. He may act nice to everyone but cares for no one, will gladly climb on the back of others to reach his goal yet breaks at the slightest negative criticism. Will act like nothing's wrong as someone's bleeding all over him, and completely lacks warmth and humanity yet acts like it's his greatest traits. He is known for being flirtatious and enjoys the reactions of others. Nikita is sophisticated and unpredictable, having experienced a lot in his long life.

Background : [ Under Section 28, Article 59 of the Sensitive Information Protection Act, the confidential details pertaining to this individual are currently under stringent safeguarding measures. It is imperative to acknowledge that any unauthorized intrusion upon the privacy and anonymity of government administrators, military personals and warden's from reformation asylums will be met with immediate and irrevocable consequences, without the provision of a preceding trial. We kindly request utmost compliance in refraining from further inquiries or endeavors to access additional information regarding this individual. ]

Likes : lily of the valley, baking cakes, pranking the inmates, stargazing, music boxes, dry fruits (especially walnuts), reading ancient epics, eye pleasing visuals

Dislikes : rude people (the irony), the ocean, getting screamed at, criticisms, potatoes, humans in general, responsibilities, weak people (basically those who can't protect themselves)

Pet peeves : crying, shoes on the bed, obnoxious cracking of body parts, smell of blood (he's used to it, yet it still irks him to an extent)

Trivia :

tends to get hiccups whenever stressed or angry

shit talks everyone to anyone who listens. you see that guy? yeah his breathe smells like rotten potatoes, that girl over there? yeah her hair looks like a cat's balls.

unexpectedly Nikita despises physical contact, which is why he is always seen wearing gloves and if possible chooses not to touch anyone unless absolutely necessary

[jannwrites]

SCHIZOPHRENIA & OTHER PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS: A GUIDE FOR WRITERS.

hey me again, local mental health therapist and writer on tumblr dot com, coming at you with yet another “how to write mental health” post! because my friend asked me about it today, we’re talking about SCHIZOPHRENIA AND OTHER PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS. psychotic disorders are easily the most misunderstood and misrepresented diagnoses i see in writing. if i see you misrepresenting psychotic disorders after this post, i'm coming for your tasty little fingers.

there’s been a lot of changes to the language around schizophrenia and psychotic disorders, which isn’t Super Important tbh but the point is this post is going to get a little long. bear with me.

*a quick note before we get started: prior to the dsm-5, schizophrenia was broken up into five "types," including paranoid schizophrenia, which is the language i most commonly see folks referring to schizophrenia as. the other "types" were disorganized, catatonic, undifferentiated, and residual. for the purpose of this post, i'm going to be referring to dsm-5 terms. the language itself isn't all that important in my opinion, if that's how you understand schizophrenia that's cool and good.

so, let's start with talking about the symptoms seen across ALL psychotic disorders, including schizophrenia. depending on the disorder, one or all of these symptoms may be present:

DELUSIONS. delusions are "beliefs that are not amenable to change in light of conflicting evidence." the most common types of delusions you will see are:

persecutory. the person believes they are going to be or are being harmed, harassed, and so forth by an individual, organization, or other group. these are the most common types of delusions.

referential. the person believes that certain gestures, comments, environmental cues, and so forth are directed at oneself. these are the second most common types of delusions.

grandiose. the person believes that they have exceptional abilities, wealth, or fame.

erotomanic. the person falsely believes someone is in love / interested in them.

nihilistic. the person falsely believes a major catastrophy is going to occur.

somatic. the person is obsessed with and/or very preoccupied with their health and organ function.

HALLUCINATIONS. these are "perception-like experiences that occur without an external stimulus. they are vivid and clear, with the full force and impact of normal perceptions, and not under voluntary control." auditory hallucinations are the most common type of hallucination ( hearing an external voice or noise that does not exist ) but folks can experience hallucinations within multiple or all of their senses ( e.g. the sensation and sight of insects crawling up their arms ).

hallucinations generally, but not always, go hand in hand with the delusions the person is experiencing. for example, i work in court ordered substance abuse treatment, so a lot of my clients with psychotic disorders have delusions about being gang stalked and have hallucinations of external voices telling them they are not safe, someone is following them, that person over there is looking at them funny, etc.

DISORGANIZED THINKING. this is mostly going to come across in the way the person speaks. the person may switch very rapidly between subjects or respond to a prompt with something that is wildly off topic. there are times where the person is so disorganized their speech is completely incomprehensible.

GROSSLY DISORGANIZED OR CATATONIC BEHAVIOR. the person may behave with childlike "silliness" or they may be incredibly agitated. they have disorganized habits that interfere with their personal life, like preoccupations with certain actions or hoarding behaviors. repeated movements, staring, mutism, or echoing speech are also examples of disorganized behavior.

catatonia refers to decreased reactivity to the environment. e.g. you can scream in the person's face or they can pour boiling water on their skin and there will be no reaction.

NEGATIVE SYMPTOMS. these are mostly present in folks with schizophrenia specifically but they are known to make appearances in other psychotic disorders. negative symptoms refer to a lack of something. here are the most common negative symptoms:

diminished emotional expression. this refers to "reductions in the expression of emotions in the face, eye contact, intonation of speech, and movements of the hand, head, and face that normally give an emotional emphasis to speech."

avolition. this refers to "a decrease in motivated self-initiated purposeful activities. the individual may sit for long periods of time and show little interest in participating in work or social activities."

alogia. this is a decreased use of speech. the person may speak very little or not at all.

anhedonia. this is the decreased ability to experience pleasure or to recollect pleasureful experiences. anhedonia is very common in many other mental health disorders, particularly any disorder that includes depressive episodes.

asociality. this is a lack of interest in social interactions. kinda goes hand in hand with avolition but the dsm-5 makes a point to specify it so here you go.

keeping these in mind, here are the schizophrenic spectrum and other psychotic disorders outlined by the dsm-5:

DELUSIONAL DISORDER. the person experiences DELUSIONS ONLY for one month or longer.

BRIEF PSYCHOTIC DISORDER. the person experiences ANY OF THE FIRST FOUR SYMPTOMS for at least one day and no longer than one month.

SCHIZOPHRENIFORM DISORDER. the person experiences TWO OR MORE OF THE FIVE SYMPTOMS, WITH AT LEAST ONE OF THEM BEING ONE OF THE FIRST THREE SYMPTOMS LISTED, for a significant time during a one month period but no longer than a 6 month period.

SCHIZOPHRENIA. the person experiences TWO OR MORE OF THE FIVE SYMPTOMS, WITH AT LEAST ONE OF THEM BEING ONE OF THE FIRST THREE SYMPTOMS LISTED, for a significant time during a one month period. the difference between schizophrenia and schizophreniform is the longevity of the presence of symptoms. if it was less than 6 months, schizophreniform. if it's longer than 6 months, schizophrenia.

SCHIZOAFFECTIVE DISORDER. this is going to be someone who doesn't quite meet the criteria for schizophrenia but experiences some symptoms of schizophrenia, AND doesn't meet the criteria for bipolar OR despressive disorders, but experiences some symptoms of bipolar or depressive disorders.

SUBSTANCE OR MEDICATION INDUCED PSYCHOSIS. THIS IS IMPORTANT. all the previously mentioned disorders are NOT TRIGGERED BY SUBSTANCE USE OR MEDICATIONS, though substance use and medications may exacerbate the symptoms of a psychotic disorder. if your character doesn't experience psychosis ( hallucinations and delusions ) when they're sober and have fully withdrawaled, they have substance or medication induced psychosis. if they do have psychosis after they're fully withdrawaled, they likely have a psychotic disorder.

PSYCHOTIC DISORDER DUE TO ANOTHER MEDICAL CONDITION. basically the person is experiencing psychosis due to a health issue. this is very common in folks with dementia.

all right, you still with me? good! here are some additional things to keep in mind:

SCHIZOPHRENIA AND PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS ARE OFTEN TRIGGERED BY STRESS AND/OR TRAUMA. eleanor longden has an excellent ted talk on how the stress of moving out, going to college, and all the expectations from family and academia triggered her schizophrenia. i highly recommend watching her video.

because this is often the case, consider WHY DID MY CHARACTER DEVELOP SCHIZOPHRENIA OR ANOTHER PSYCHOTIC DISORDER? what happened in their life to trigger this? did they experience severe trauma in their life, or did something seemingly mundane like moving out of their parents house or starting their first job after college stress them out?

PEOPLE WITH SCHIZOPHRENIA AND PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS ARE NOT INHERENTLY VIOLENT. in fact, people with schizophrenia and psychotic disorders are more likely to be the VICTIMS of violence. unless the person already has a history of violence prior to developing schizophrenia, they are very unlikely to suddenly develop violent tendencies. stay away from this trope. it's infuriating.

in that same vein, PEOPLE WITH SCHIZOPHRENIA AND PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS ARE NOT INHERENTLY BAD OR EVIL. see the above point. i'll bite your fingers off.

i already spoke about this briefly, but do keep in mind SCHIZOPHRENIA AND PSYCHOSIS ARE NOT NECESSARILY TRIGGERED BY SUBSTANCE, ALCOHOL, OR MEDICATION USE. all of the above absolutely CAN cause psychosis that may persist for a while, depending on how heavily the person was using substances, alcohol, or medications for, and all of the above can exacerbate symptoms, but it is not the sole reason people develop schizophrenia or other psychotic disorders. i guess that's a common misconception. don't fall for it.

that's it for now! if you've made it through this post, you're probably entitled to kicking my ass once, free of charge. i may edit this later but in the meantime cheers, and happy writing.

[natalchartnurtures]

big three of Amy Santiago ;)

"Stop clapping, you idiots! We gotta move, move, move!"

Soooo... let's look into Amy's big three, shall we?

Aries Sun:

AMY SANTIAGOOO! Let's goooo! So, first things first—there's an underlying, undeniable fire in Amy's persona. It's a fire that fuels her at her core, which immediately pointed me to look for fire suns for Amy. But what made me choose Aries was her childlike persona and how accepting she is of Jake's manchild-like vibe, lmao. Also, Amy has a KILLER sense of humor herself. She does have a pretty distinct badass side too, and it really came out in that one Halloween heist episode (Season 3) when neither Holt nor Jake wanted her on their teams, and SHE decides to win it all by herself as a way to stand up for herself. Boy, was that one of my ABSOLUTE favorite Amy moments. Gosh, happy tears. And by the way, Amy survived a household with 7 brothers and came out of that as a competitive baddie, which truly is Aries behavior if I do say so myself. Hehe.

Virgo Moon:

Think of some adjectives and/or phrases that pop into your head when you think of Amy? Nerd. An absolute freak for organizing. Perfectionistic. Intelligent. Great analyzing skills. Teacher's pet. Yeah, alllll that? That's Virgo behavior, in my experience at least. So, yeah, it makes a lot of sense for a girl to be a Virgo moon. She's awkward, straight-laced, and hygiene-loving. What a queen.

Capricorn Rising:

It's a no-brainer that Amy is hardworking to her bone. She is professional, and boy does she rock those suits on the show?! It's also plenty evident on the show that she has a strong work ethic, which screams Cappie energy to me. On the surface level, Amy has an uptight and by-the-book demeanor and an unwavering commitment to her job. All things that make it obvious for her to be a Capricorn rising.

"Cruise itineraries, hot out of the laminator. Who's ready for some nonstop totally scheduled fun?"

[archiveofthelibrarian]

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

Manwion had hair of silver, which at night, reflected the starry sky yet glistened gold when Laurelin waxed. His long silver waves was adored by all, Quendi and Ainur alike, rivaled only by the gold-silver hair of Artanis which was said to have captured the very essence of the Two Trees.

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

Love and Glass

Chapter 1

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

Inspired by my conversation with @animatorweirdo as anon here.

I did not proof read this, so feel free to point out any mistakes.

Masterpost for the fic can be found here.

DISCLAİMER: I do not own anything you recognize. This is a fanwork for entertainment purposes and should be regarded as such.

Word count: 1.162

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It was just like any other night.

You were on your couch, relaxing and catching up on that show you had neglected for the past month.

It had been a very hectic month at work.

You didn't even want to think, so Netflix was it.

The hours went on and you became more engaged in your show by the minute.

But suddenly, your attention was torn away from the show by a very suspicious noise coming from your backyard.

Cautiously, you took your gun and went to investigate the matter.

What you found was a creature of such beauty, it was otherworldly.

Though he was the exact same height as you and appeared human, he was anything but a normal human.

His hair was silver and it went down to his waist in delicate waves as it reflected the starry night as an ocean, calm and deep.

His face was drained and his complexion was of unsullied light.

His eyes were the darkest shade of blue, capturing the light of stars in themselves.

You were completely entranced, but through some miracle, you managed to keep your guard up.

"Who are you?" you asked, pointing the gun to his forehead.

The creature tilted his head in curiosity. His eyes shined with childlike wonder and innocence.

"What is that?" he asked with pure wonder and innocence. His voice felt like liquid gold to your ears.

"Answer the question!"

The creature flinched and took a step away from you, terrified.

It would be very unwise to trust him, yet it seemed the creature was genuine in his every behavior.

It was almost like he was untouched by malice and did not know of any ulterior motives.

Ignoring the screaming voice of reason in your brain, you lowered your gun and started speaking softly. "Hey, hey. I am sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

The creature looked you in the eyes, his very gaze piercing your heart. "Really?"

You nodded. "Yes, I was just trying to be cautious."

The creature seemed to have believed you in an instant as he lowered his guard entirely.

"Now, what is your name?"

"I don't have a name," the creature said. You felt a tinge in your heart. How could someone not have a name? You so desperately wanted to ask, yet knew better than to pry into a stranger's personal matters.

"Then, how do your people call you?"

"Manwion," he said. "The Amanyar call me Manwion for I am the son of Manwë and Varda."

You felt as if someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over your head.

"I am sorry, did you say Manwë and Varda?"

He nodded. "Yes, the King and Queen of Arda," he said tilted his head. "Do you not know them? How can you not know them?"

That was it. You had fallen into a coma during work and this was some coma dream shit.

You must have frozen since the creature gently took your hand, jolting you awake.

"Are you okay," he asked.

This was a dream. It had to be.

But the evidence was right here.

"Yeah, I am. Just, surprised..."

That part of your brain which has always been too kind decided to take matters into its own hands as you decided to go invite him in. Whether it was a dream or reality, you couldn't leave someone out here in the middle of the night.

"Why don't you come inside and then we can talk. It is quite a chilly night after all.

The creature smiled. "Okay."

Throughout the entire night, you two talked and as the first light of the sun dawned on earth, it became clear to you that this creature was truly what he claimed to be.

He was the son of Manwë and Varda, the King and Queen of Arda.

He was Manwion, the Silver Prince of Arda,, who was made out of silver crystal and given life.

He was the embodiment of innocence and joy.

He could never know any evil or malice for his heart was untouched by any of it.

But it did not mean malice was nonexistent because he couldn’t know it. And this was a world full of malicious intent.

He was so vulnerable here.

If anyone found out about his existence aside from yourself, they would take him and turn him into a lab rat.

The images of this creature of pure light and joy being experimented on played in your head.

It was so horrible.

You could not let that happen.

So you decided to hide Manwion’s existence from the world, letting him stay in your house.

Manwiom really wasnt hard to love with his cheerful and radiant personality.

He really was the embodiment of joy.

As days turned intp weeks and weeks turned into months, you found yourself liking Manwion more and more.

Looking at him when he wasnt looking, bringing him new things he had not known earlier so that you could see his face light up with joy...

You had fallen in love and you had fallen hard.

But Manwion was a divine being of another world, he was the Silver Prince of Arda and you were but a mere human from Earth who worked 8-5 and ran on cafdeine most of the time.

The thought of having your affection resipricsted seened like fever dream no matter how you looked at it.

But he did in fact return your affections. And he return them as much more beauty than you ever thought was possible.

And so began your days of bliss on Earth.

But it would not last as few things ever did.

Despite all your caution, the authorities managed to find out about Manwion and thus began a search for him.

With no other choice, you took the barest necessities for your survival and Manwion and you fled from your home.

You held the hand of Manwion tight as the light from police cars threatened to blind you.

Manwion's hands were shaking from terror.

There were so many guns pointed at you.

The officer repeated his demand for you to turn yourselves in.

You were hesitant to speak as anything you said would render you in an even worse situation.

Just when you thought it was all over, the very fabric of the space-time was torn, revealing a dark tentacle.

The tentacle started wreaking havoc as it blasted the police cars away.

In the chaos, you and Manwion got separated.

The moment you realized he was not with you, you started to look around frantically.

And suddenly, your world narrowed to the sight of him screaming as he was captured and dragged into the depths of the void by the dark creature.

Without thinking, your body sprang into action taking a gun one of the officers had managed to somehow lose, you held onto the tencale and got dragged with him into the void.

The tear on the fabric fixed itself, trapping you, the creature and Manwion inside.

[triptychgrip]

Yuuri's grief over Vicchan (and growing closer to Makkachin)

I wanted to share a screenshot of part of a Reddit thread I developed for the new chapter of my Viktuuri developing relationship/bodyswap fic: one which pertains to Yuuri's grief over Vicchan. My story is premised on Viktor and Makkachin beginning to swap bodies during the period of time that Yurio/Yuuri are preparing for Onsen on Ice, so the YOI characters' various relationships to their pets takes center stage.

As much as I think that Makkachin's presence would be a comfort for Yuuri - particularly in light of Yurio's arrival in Hasetsu, and Yuuri's feelings of inadequacy when he sees how comfortable the two of them appear to be around one another - I also think it would complicate things for him a bit. Given the recency of losing Vicchan, I sometimes wonder if in getting closer to Makka, Yuuri might struggle with guilt, feeling like he is "betraying" his dog's memory in some way.

Towards the end of the chapter, after a beach trip during which he and Makkachin share a moment together -- except it's not actually Makkachin, it's Viktor in Makkachin's body, LOL -- Yuuri goes on Reddit to seek advice around how to wrestle with his grief. After all, it's because of Viktor that the Katsukis even decide to bring home a toy poodle in the first place.

At this point in the story, Viktor has only recently found out that Yuuri owned a toy poodle, but not because of anything Yuuri has admitted to him: he only knows about it because of Yuuri opening up to him while Viktor was in Makka's body. And this is really a major theme of my story: if Viktor begins to learn things about Yuuri because he is body-swapping with his dog and not because Yuuri chose to be vulnerable with him around these things, how does that affect their developing relationship? While body-swapping is great grounds for humor, I actually think the potential for feels as it relates to the idea of character agency (i.e. what someone chooses to disclose and in what circumstances) is really wonderful.

I'm including an excerpt of the most recent chapter (Chapter 3), and hope it piques your interest in checking out this story, or my other Yuri!!! on Ice work!

----

The last few times that Viktor had tried to engage him in conversation – both training-related and otherwise – Yuuri had floundered, failing to calm the rapid thump-thump-thump of his heart. Naturally, this had resulted in his replies to Viktor coming out stilted and distant. It was part of the reason that he’d willed himself to approach him earlier that morning, hoping that this beach trip would give him the opportunity to prove that he wasn’t entirely socially inept.

But, of course, when push came to shove, he found himself chickening out, like a coward.

No surprises there.

Then again, Yuuri wasn’t the only one that had been acting…off.

He rose up out of the much-shallower water and trudged over to their laid-out towels, recalling his coach’s behavior during breakfast.

As he dried himself off, he wondered again at that bizarre instance when Viktor seemed to have forgotten how to use chopsticks. In truth, Yuuri probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for Yurio’s snarling comment; he’d spent most of the meal with his eyes gloomily fixed on his own plate, specifically, the much smaller portion of rice that okaasan had given him as compared to Yuri and Viktor.

And then, of course, there had been Viktor’s childlike enthusiasm for nearly everything that had occurred since they’d headed out from Yu-topia.

His idol had honest-to-God screamed when a gull had flown overhead, making him, Makka and Yurio all jump. The latter had nearly wiped out on the sand, launching into a furious tirade about Viktor acting like he’d never seen a seabird before.

Plopping down with a sigh, Yuuri began to dry off and put his glasses back on, thinking about how the “Living Legend” was quite a bit more exuberant than he’d ever anticipated him being. At least, when compared to the countless interviews he’d read or watched in recent years.

Viktor’s innate charisma, and those heart-shaped smiles…

The last time Yuuri could remember reading about or watching him behave so uninhibitedly was probably a decade ago, as far back as his coach’s first Winter Olympics. A filmy memory from early January 2006 leapt to the forefront of his mind, unbidden.

In it, his 13-year-old self was frantically searching for a translation of a Russian-language video interview with 17-year-old Viktor, nearly weeping in relief when Minako-sensei had ultimately taken pity on him. She’d called in a favor from an old friend of hers from her Moscow dancing days, so he’d only had to wait a few days after the interview went live to be able to watch it.

It had been conducted by Sovetsky Sport, a little over a month before the Torino Games kicked off.

The interview team had tried to ask Viktor all sorts of questions about how it felt to be competing in his first ever Winter Olympics, but the young skater had seemed far more interested in talking about Makkachin…namely, how adorable she was. Even now, Yuuri could visualize his idol’s joyous replies with ease, the ends of each sentence punctuated with a deluge of exclamation points. And when he had actually stuck to the topic at hand, it’d mainly been to bemoan the reality of having to be without her for the several weeks that he’d be staying in Italy.

Viktor’s eyes had filled with tears during his anguished response, and his own fanboying heart had given a pang at the openness of his emotions.

It made him now wonder: when had the youthful zeal and unbridled earnestness, the unguardedness…when had that leached from Viktor’s public persona?

[allegra-writes]

"The Aftermath" Part III

Armand x Daniel Molloy

NSFW

Warnings: Rough sex, dirty talk, a tiny crumb of daddy kink. Idk, this turned out cleaner and more angsty than expected

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable character, and for legal reasons I won't be accepting tips for this story or any story set in Anne Rice's Immortal Universe. Thank you!

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Previously Next

“What the fu- GET OFF ME”

“I will not!” Armand had both of Daniel’s wrists gripped tightly, using the full weight of his body to pin Daniel’s to the floor, effectively trapping him, “If I have to physically restrain you to stop you from leaving me, so be it”

"You can't keep me here against my will!" Even as he said it, he wondered if, maybe, he could. Vampiric strength and all, he couldn't seem to make Armand budge. The more his maker pressed down on his wrists, the more Daniel understood just how much Armand had contained himself around him, the force he was using on Daniel would have shattered his bones to dust had he still been human.

"Then choose to stay!" Armand demanded, childlike and petulant, as if he truly couldn’t grasp why it had to be more complicated than that.

“It doesn’t work like that!”

“Then tell me how to make you want to stay! I’d do anything” He begged, and Daniel was able to hear the catch in his voice, feel the last thread of self-control Armand was desperately trying to hold onto. Daniel himself was feeling his own control slip. For all the power he could feel in his newly undead body, having the vampire -the other vampire, he was a fucking vampire too- so close, seeing the slow, faint pulse of blood pumping inside the bulging vein of his neck, was making him dizzy. Startled, Daniel realized he was hungry. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it. Anything you want me to say, I’ll say it”

Daniel shook his head in an attempt to clear it, to focus on what Armand was saying, but he took it as a refusal.

“You want me to apologize, for what little it would do? Fine, I will, even as it will not change anything. I am sorry. I am sorry for refusing to turn you when you asked me to, I am sorry for taking your memories of me and forcing you to live on. I am sorry for indulging Louis in his little schemes simply because the prospect of seeing you, of having you near again was too tempting to pass, I am sorry for not letting you die. I am sorry" Armand was practically screaming now, bloody tears streaming down his face, the mask of composure stripped away, "And the worst part is, I am not sorry at all. If I had the chance to turn back time, I would do it exactly the same, because I simply can't bear to even imagine a world where you don't exist anymore!"

Daniel cursed internally as he felt the words warm something up inside of him, melting his resolve, his righteous anger, away. Some forgotten, protective instinct inside himself, like a dormant agent that only Armand’s tears could activate. He had never been able to resist those tears, the bastard probably knew that. Even at his worst, at the height of his junky days and his mercurial, violent behavior, Daniel had always stopped short in his warpath of destruction to kiss those tears away. Armand, the puppet master, the play director, had to remember that.

Damned him. Damned the consummated actor, damn the manipulative bastard, damned the controlling freak. Damned his boyish face, so heart-rendering as it twisted in suffering. Damned his love. Damned the tears Daniel knew to be sincere.

“Damn you, Armand!” Daniel cursed, out loud this time, before crashing his mouth to his.

Damned himself. He had just damned himself, he could tell. There was no way an addict like him could get a taste of that and not become immediately hooked on it. The way Armand’s searing, silky lips felt against his own -hot with his blood- it was as if the link between their minds was there again, he could feel the kiss on his brain, the electric clarity of a thought, that's how pure it felt.

And then, Armand started kissing back, coaxing Daniel’s lips open with his own, his scorching, sultry tongue slipping inside his mouth, just a little bit, just enough for the tip to lick at the unbelievably sensitive interior surface of his upper lip, only to withdraw again, as Armand drew back, ending the kiss too soon, way too soon.

“Daniel,” There was concern in Armand’s voice, “you’re trembling”

“Feels good” Daniel mumbled. Understatement of the fucking century, but words were a little beyond his capacity at the moment. Something shifted in Armand’s eyes, the briefest spark of lust, pride, greediness, before settling on mischief.

“My firstborn… brand new and tender, a neonate” He whispered, almost in awe, before the mischievous look returned, “Everything must feel so different and overwhelming”

Daniel had no warning before Armand’s hand slid into his pants, making him cry out.

“Fuck, you’re evil!” There was probably a crack in the marble after Daniel threw his head back against it, but Armand didn’t mind, all of his attention on the newly fanged vampire as he closed his fingers around his length.

“And you, my beautiful boy, are mine” He whispered hot against Daniel’s neck, making shivers explode over his entire body, rippling and multiplying like the quiet waters of a fountain when a penny was dropped in it, “as you were always meant to be”

Before he could protest, say something inane and stupid that they both knew to be a lie, like how Daniel wasn’t his, the hand around his dick started moving, pumping slowly, the pressure carefully measured, barely there at all, but enough for Daniel to feel it, enough for speech to be an impossible feat for his mouth, busy as it was moaning.

“Do you like it, Daniel?” Armand’s devilish mouth was nipping at Daniel’s jaw, sucking at his earlobe, murmuring dirtily at his ear, “How even the smallest of frictions feels so intense on your cock? And that’s just my hand… imagine how my mouth would feel” He punctuated with a long, filthy lick at Daniel’s now hypersensitive neck, “How my cock would feel inside you… How yours would feel inside of me… I’ll never again feel cold to you, did you know that? Even if I don’t feed, you and I will be the same temperature. Can you imagine that? All that heat, all that exquisite pressure… we are so strong, Daniel, we have muscles humans don’t even realize they have, I could squeeze you just right, ride you until you came, and then just keep ridding you until you cried… You always did like it when I made you cry in bed, remember now, my Daniel?”

He did remember. Fuck, he remembered it all: The intricate patterns Armand would draw on his body with black ropes, tying him up tight and pretty just so he could spend hours torturing him, edging him with his hands and his tongue and his toys to the very brink of insanity, and then making him come over and over again until tears came to his eyes and he begged for mercy.

The devious vampire stopped the movement of his hand until Daniel opened his eyes to look at him in question, never once breaking eye contact as he licked his palm wet and sloppy, before wrapping the slick hand once again around Daniel’s cock, grip firmer this time, even as he kept the milking movements slow and measured.

“Do you want that, Daniel?” His personal devil asked, low and seductive, “Because I want it. I want to feel you inside me…”

Not fifteen minutes ago, Daniel had bragged about his self-control, the stoic discipline born out of a lifetime of self-denial, but there was only so much an ex-addict could take. It was one thing to wave a bottle of whiskey in the face of an alcoholic, it was a very different one to wet his lips with a few drops of Macallan 1926 and expect him to remain composed. And Armand was a fucking bottle of Isabella’s Islay. With a feral, animal snarl, he snapped, stunning Armand beyond reaction as he turned them around so he would be the one hovering over the older vampire. Daniel wasted no time with niceties, one hand holding Armand by the neck while the other frenziedly tore at shirts and pants and gloves until not a stitch of offending fabric was left to obscure the view of bronze skin and taut muscle. All the while, Armand smiled up at him beatifically, basking in Daniel’s fury, in the urgency and violence of his moves, parting his legs to make room for his crazed fledgling.

Daniel touched the pads of his index and middle finger to Armand’s plump bottom lip, slipping them inside the warm cavern of his mouth when he opened for him, pressing down on his tongue, letting him choke a little in his eagerness for sucking them, to taste them, to welcome any part of himself Daniel was willing to give into his body, whining as Daniel made to withdraw them before demanding,

“Bite”

He obeyed, eyes rolling back at the taste, but Daniel didn’t allow him to enjoy it for too long, quickly taking his fingers out of Armand’s mouth to briefly tease at his rim before shoving them inside, as deep as they would go, making his maker cry out.

There was little in the way of preparation, Daniel only managing to thrust and scissor his fingers inside Armand’s unholy, silky heat a couple of times before the demanding brat started begging,

“Now, Daniel, I want you now. I want to feel it, I want you to make it hurt!”

Daniel didn’t have to be told twice, letting go of Armand to lower his jeans and underwear just enough to free his dick and used his bloody hand to slick himself up before guiding his cock with Armand’s entrance and pushing in.

It was so immediately, devastatingly overwhelming that Daniel’s arms almost buckled, making him almost lose his balance. He managed to keep it together but barely, needing to hide his face in the crook of his maker’s neck to center himself again. Meanwhile Armand, as desperate and disheveled as Daniel had ever seen him, tried to wrap his legs around Daniel to push him down, to undulate his hips, anything to force more of Daniel inside himself, but one of Daniel’s strong hands splayed right below his navel was enough to pin him in place.

It was a power trip like no other. Of course they had switched before, inverting their usual roles of dominant and dominated, hardly anything could be found that they hadn’t tried in the heyday of their psychosexual games together. But it had always been make-believe, nothing but the flimsies illusion of control until Armand got impatient and flipped them over to ride Daniel as hard and as fast as he could without breaking his fragile human bones. Daniel had never held any real power over Armand… until now. Being able to keep his demonic lover in place with just one hand, forcing him to wait patiently, to take only what Daniel gave him, inch by agonizingly slow, unescapable inch, carving a place for himself inside this ancient, almost almighty monster that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for so long was exhilarating, to say the least.

By the time Daniel’s balls hit the supernaturally smooth skin of Armand’s buttcheeks, he was a sobbing, quivering mess under Daniel’s heavy, dead weight.

“Danny… Danny, please… I need… I need…”

“What do you need, baby? Tell Daddy what you need…” Daniel murmured, tone not-quite mocking. Armand whimpered, hands shaking as he clutched at Daniel’s wool-clad biceps, his shoulders, his hair, anywhere he could reach. Daniel kissed his blood-sweat damp curls, soothing.

“Don’t worry, baby, daddy’s gonna fuck you just the way you need it” Daniel rocked his hips a couple of times testing the give of Armand’s hole, splayed so snug around his cock, as much as his own resistance. He was acutely aware of every single one of his senses as they fired stimulus after stimulus at the speed of light. The only thing he could compare to how everything felt was that party down in Brooklyn so many years ago where he had tripped on LSD and ended up getting pounded within an inch of his life on the rooftop under a maroon sky. Both experiences had Armand at the center as his Polaris, the bright north star guiding him home, making sure he didn’t get lost in the whirlwind of sensation.

Proud of himself and sure he would not shoot his load as soon as he moved, Daniel pulled out. Not a couple of inches, not until just the tip remained inside, he pulled all the way out, just so he could slam right back in, muffling Armand’s cry with his kiss. Finding his purchase on Armand’s thick, athletic thigh, he hoisted it higher around his waist to deepen the angle of penetration and laid it in, setting a punishing, merciless rhythm that had Armand clawing at the back of his sweater, ripping the fabric to shreds.

“Daniel… My Daniel!”

“Yes, say my name baby… wanna hear you scream it… Fuck! You feel so fucking good…” Daniel almost asked, would have if he had found the words to do it, if it would always feel like that, every nerve on his body aflame, all of his newfound, insurmountable brainpower focused on one single point, the place his body sank into Armand’s over and over again. He could feel himself becoming this wild creature, this tameless animal with no higher reasoning, no other purpose but to have and take and possess the being under him, vampire instinct screaming at him, the voice of a revenant inside his own skull, telling him to mark his maker as his, to complete the ritual, to finish what Armand had started half a century before. Daniel felt his fangs descend, the drag of the dry bone almost sensual against his gums.

“Yes! My beloved, my fledgling, my Daniel… do it!” Armand clamored for it, exposing the enticing, endless curve of his neck, a lure impossible to resist. Daniel bit down.

Love. Cherishing, worshipful, all-encompassing love hit Daniel like a train as soon as Armand’s blood touched his tongue. He knew what it felt like, to have Armand inside his head, but that had never been a two-way street, even as the vampire had been more forthcoming inside the privacy of Daniel’s mind, his secrets had never been laid bare in front of Daniel like that.

Can you taste it, Daniel? Do you feel the sweet caress of the blood as it floods your insides? That searing, luxuriant gush of warmth as it flows incandescent from my veins to yours? I promise you, is just as orgasmic every time. There is nothing more intimate than holding a life between your arms and drink it up, no greater pleasure to our kind. Is it always going to be like this, you ask? Well, lover mine, my precious newborn, blood of my blood, sin of my sin, it won’t. In this big, wide earth, in this savage garden, no blood will ever taste as sweet, nothing will ever feel as good to you as I do. I am your maker, Daniel, nothing will ever satisfy you as I will.

A part of Daniel wanted to rebel, to protest, to push Armand away but it was useless. After all, he doubted any of his theatrics would be convincing, not after he came so hard at Armand’s words he could feel it overflowing his maker’s slight frame, leaking down his shaft, dripping on his balls. He parted from Armand’s neck, throwing his head back, overwhelmed by his very first swoon. And Armand, ruthless monster that he was, took advantage of his momentary helplessness to flip them over, straddling Daniel’s thighs so he could not escape.

“You did not think I was done with you so soon, did you, beloved?” He asked, the very image of depravity as he lazily stroked his leaking cock.

No. Daniel didn’t even dream of it…

To be continued...

[itsadragonaesthetic]

Ok I watched the fabled "why I hate Peacemaker" video and I would like to rant in the relative safety of Tumblr where my posts might not get as much attention as a youtube comment cuz I'm a coward <3

Mention of general abusive behavior. Skip on by if you're not feeling that.

"Darkstalker thought he was doing the right thing" YEAH THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT RIGHT. HE COMMITTED GENOCIDE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT PYRRHIA WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT THEM. THAT WAS HIS VISION FOR THE FUTURE. GENOCIDE.

"He was driven mad by animus magic" not only is it proven time and time again that animus magic doesn't actually do anything to your soul, but Darkstalker was BORN hateful! His animus magic had little to do with it! The reason the myth about animus magic eating your soul persisted for so long was because most people wouldn't treat absolute power correctly, and being born with power you didn't earn will probably make you into an asshole. (It's actually my biggest complaint about the books, that animus magic was rarely used for absolute good)

I just want to briefly mention that I heard Darkstalker was, at least loosely, based on an ex boyfriend of Tui's.... do with that what you will.

"We all read what's inside his head during the Legends" that was before he murdered his dad in the most unnecessary way and committed genocide. Don't tell me shit about his abusive family and his mom being taken. Committing genocide on your father's tribe is not an appropriate reaction to having an abusive father and losing a mother in war.

The rest of the video is just weird complaining about Peacemaker being a child and doing childlike things...? I remember wondering if this person is an adult but I looked and she very much is.

I honestly started to get a little freaked out by how much they like Darkstalker. I like him but as a villain. I thought his "death" was beautiful and bittersweet. And the whole thing where he cries to his mom and later states that there's no way he's evil, it was sad and I kinda really believed he thought he was doing the right thing in his own... disturbing ways... but abusers do things like this a lot in my experience. They could be yelling, screaming, tearing apart a house, and suddenly a specific person will come up to them or like, 5 minutes will pass and they're suddenly sane again, apologizing and swearing they'll never do it again. Pretty much every typical abuser does this. I wouldn't put it above Darkstalker who so clearly only has his interests in mind.

Oh yeah and are we just forgetting that line he said to Clearsight, stating that he would force her to like the future he's creating? (ya know, the future with no icewings).

Ok rant over haha hope you had fun reading I'm gonna slam my head into a wall.

[raindnce]

wallace's ability : precognition.

ever since he was a child, wallace has had moments where he’s spent completely engrossed inside of his head. he would be in the middle of studying, playing, or interacting with mentors / teachers, laughing. and then he’ll complain about ‘ear pain,’ and how much it hurt behind his eyes before he’s drifting off. staring into space for indiscriminate amounts of time. these times and intensities vary, but on average the near catatonic moments last from seconds to a minute.

he'd been a kid who'd have to, sometimes, spend hours in bed because of how bad the headaches would hit him.

and at first, he'd usually have nothing to say if asked or confronted about the unusual behavior. if reprimanded and told to speak up or to be honest above all else, wallace would usually just shrug a shoulder and say that he must've been daydreaming. and as he got a little older, and faced with similar promptings, he'd properly report on the feeling of 'seeing fantastical things.' he did even dub these things to be an something like invisible friends, although that had been promptly deemed 'childlike' and 'unbecoming of a societal protector,' and squashed.

one of the longest catatonic episodes he's had was when he was a younger child, around the age of four. wallace envisioned a young boy with white hair accompanied by an odd blue metallic thing, that had been caught in the middle of a stampede of camerupt. he had come back in to his mind screaming, and in all the words that failed him at his age, wallace couldn't convey what he'd seen and why. but he knew that someone was going to, or had gotten, really, really hurt.

that stayed with him for a while. even if he focused intently on his languages / studies / abode by all the traditions and rules he'd been coming to learn and live, there was always the white-haired boy in the back of his mind. the pain and horror that he felt before wakefulness had sprung upon wallace.

he had run into that very same boy with the white hair the next year when they were five, the time that he and his father had come to visit sootopolis in search of some rumored quality of the water they possessed. wallace had taken one look at him and proclaimed that they were friends now, fully on the notion about how he'd seen him with the camerupt.

it was a day for both boys.

and it had been around the ages of eight to ten that wallace had finally started to realize what he sees isn't just happenstance. the full concept of it was still foreign to him, but there were levels of comfort in knowing these things weren't completely fake. and at some point, he did turn to rayquaza's likeness on statues that lined remote lorekeeper halls, wondered if he'd been blessed somehow. if there was a grander part to the life cut out and laid before him that he didn't see just yet.

he'd been a child looking for reasoning to something only he was dealing with, in the face of the deities he's grown up worshiping, knowing. training to protect.

wallace had come to realize very quickly that he didn't regard his visions to be anything less than burdensome, and lonely.

his precognition comes in both states of being ( sleeping / wakefulness ), though dreams that he wakes up from and retains information tend to be a little more on the uncommon side. he's able to recall everything he sees when these visions come to him while awake ( especially with the conscious effort to keep a notepad as he got older ). and ... it just so happens that a major trigger of his ability, is touch.

it’s an instantaneous response : wallace lays a single hand on someone or an object, and he’s able to see a glimpse into the future, a snapshot into a seemingly random point in that person / object's existence. right as it feels like it cuts through his mind.

as a result, when he was a child and even into adolescence, wallace would often don white silk gloves. it was a barrier, a way for him to still be able to interact with the world and people without unwantingly triggering his a vision ( and usually subsequently, headache ). he wanted so badly to connect with people, his peers, as it had been the only respite from the diligent studies he’d been brought up in, and it had been a manner in which to fulfill that need.

as he'd gotten older into adulthood, the gloves had fallen away as he'd learned to live with his precognition and what it entailed. but as a result, he's gotten a lot smarter with where, and who, he chooses to lay a touch on.

wallace developed a habit of writing in a dream journal every morning. and it's been that way since he was a teenager ; he keeps a small notepad on his person at all times, even if it's hidden away in an unseen pocket or even his hat occasionally. if he's able to catch the onset in time or deliberately touch to trigger, he'll begin trying to draw as his mind is taken somewhere else. sometimes not even drawing, but rather scribbled notes on the most prominent things he sees.

this doesn't usually 'work' per se, he is no prophet ; but it helps in keeping track of what he's seen.

wallace cannot use this ability on himself. he never gets visions of his own life or his own successes and failures, but rather had to live with seeing / knowing everything about everyone around him. this did contribute to many insecurities when he was young, it led to quite many a breakdown.

imagine being forced to see all around you all of the time, whilst having the biggest ambitions of your own life and your own achievements, but never knowing for sure where you would end up. burdened with the lives of others around him while never having consolation for his own.

he learned to live with it.

wallace usually sees in specific events. they don’t usually last long, snapshots or seconds of time in a scene / event. it’s mostly focused on a central person or setting, the edges blurred and fading out of sight. a slight tunnel vision.

steven was the one person that he’d see in absolute clarity. and he’d been able to predict a lot of what would happen in steven’s life — except for the calamity, and the battle as a whole. except for how steven would end up giving out and dying in the middle of the field, leaving wallace to stare helplessly when the realization sunk that this was the one thing he did not foresee.

and the reason why he didn’t? the time dilation / divergence. it'd been a long time afterwards until wallace had finally had that realization, some months or years. but even the logic did not help him crawl out of the guilt and resurgence of insecurities that one failure on his part had led to. it could never shake the way how steven feels so different now, is so different, somewhere between among them and yet not. the one thing he'd been able to rely on to a detriment, to cursing his damned 'blessing,' and it'd failed him when he needed it the most.

when steven had died and been brought back, ever since then wallace has never been able to see him the way he used to. he's now always against a background of shattered glass, even if the environment is even somewhat visible around him through the individual shards — and steven himself is muddied and intangible. dripping like watercolor paint.

he still struggles with the difference, but it's gotten easier to stomach most days. still, he clings to steven whenever he lets him.

[twinkle-light-me-on-fire]

Ominis x Reader

This is all about their friendship starting. Or how I imagine it would.

Disclaimer: I do not agree or support JKR or her comments. I don’t own the characters except my own.

Trigger-warning: light swearing, mentions of torture, spoilers for the game

Mostly this is just angsty and fluffy friendship building.

Your shoulders shook in time with your strangled sobs. The hard stone of the Undercroft against your bottom and back as you sat, curled up against a far pillar. Your head was pounding and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the cruciartis curse you had endured or because of how long you had been crying for.

The voices in your head were relentless.

He had to do it.

You’re being dramatic.

“You have to mean it”

He wanted to hurt you..

The pain of the curse was still tingling within your skeleton and with each sob you bones ached. There was only one truth. Sebastian meant to cause you pain and even with the best of intentions that meant he was capable of hurting you in a way you never wanted to feel again.

You had been avoiding them. Even thinking about facing either of them was embarrassing. They had heard your screams and seen your body crumple to the floor next to Noctua’s corpse. Then they moved onto the next most pressing issue. Ominis pleading with Sebastian to leave and Sebastian babbling like a schoolboy in a candy store about Salazars Spellbook. All of this while you caught your breath and tried to regain something within yourself that felt further and further away as time stretched on.

Eventually you realized that no one was coming to your aid and if you wanted some comfort you needed to look elsewhere. When your thoughts cleared, you realized that nobody could know about this experience and therefor comfort was an unreasonable expectation. You let that go as well.

Until now, you had been pretending that everything was normal aside from avoiding Sebastian and Ominis. Since you were so new, nobody noticed. Nobody even batted an eye at your new behavior because you hadn’t even had time to establish a known normal. So instead of feeling ignored and used to fix other people’s problems, you made your way to the Undercroft. You needed to release yourself.

Eventually, the tears slowed and you sat in the silence until you heard footsteps.

“Hello?” you squeaked. The question caught in your throat.

“I’m so sorry, I came down to check on you and upon hearing your - well hearing what state you were in- I didn’t know what to do,” Ominis spoke and stepped into the light of the many flames in the Undercroft.

Shame, fucking endless shame exuded from you.

“This is my issue, Ominis. Don’t be sorry. I apologize for not realizing your presence sooner.” you spoke stiffly. It had been almost 3 weeks since you last spoke.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked abruptly. Did he sound angry? “Why won’t you talk to us- to me?” He was scolding you. Speaking as though you were a petulant child. You hadn’t just had a childlike squabble. For Merlin’s sake you had been tortured by people you thought were your friends. This enraged you further and all of the anger at their betrayal bubbled up.

“Why would I, Ominis? Sebastian made it abundantly clear that in his search for Anne’s cure I am an object to be used. ‘Solve this puzzle, Please talk to Ominis for me, either cast Crucio on me or i’ll do it to you’” you mimicked.

Ominis flinched at the darkness in your voice as you called out their friend.

“And fine- I can handle that, Sebastian is single mindedly focused on his goal but you… I thought we were starting to become friends. And after he did what he did your concern was on him. I lay breathless next to your ‘favorite aunts’ bones and your worry was on him.”

“You said- you consented..” he started as you yelled at him,

“What was I meant to do? I couldn’t have cast it, that is for sure.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.” he all but whispered. Then you noticed the tears on his face and all the anger, all the rage disappeared.

“Ominis, I am sorry. I have so much on my plate and I took it out on you. You’re right. I agreed. This is not your burden to bear.” you stood up and moved closer. “Please don’t cry,” you whispered.

“He is my dearest friend. I had no idea he was capable of something so cruel.” he explained. You took his hand. He lifted his head to your direction; his unseeing eyes searched your face for an answer to an unspoken question that you didn’t have the answer to.

Gingerly, you pulled him to the floor where you sat side-by-side in your grief. You both decided to forgive Sebastian because of the obvious reason- you both cared for him and for each other.

“Ominis?” you broke the silence first.

“Yes?”

“Does this mean we’re friends now?” you asked motioning to your still joined hands. He laughed softly and squeezed your hand tighter.

“We’re in this together now” He answered with a sigh, “So I suppose we are friends.”

“Fucking finally.” You nudged him as he rolled his eyes, laughing all the while.

[brown-little-robin]

hey can I just scream incoherently for a minute. yeah it's. it's jojo again

HELLO?? I don't really have anything to add to this moment, just. JOTARO. HONEY. he STOPS HIS OWN HEART to lure DIO in closer.

and he thinks if I black out, I really will die. it won't even be funny...

something something Jotaro is trying to save his mother's life. something something he's expected to kill for her, and to kill for her, he has to go through things that could kill him, and he's expected to survive them and stay conscious and more than that, stay funny about it. he stops his own heart and tries his best not to black out. he kills Star Platinum's predilection to be playful!! as soon as he realizes Star is an extension of himself, we instantly never see Star do anything just nice and positive for Jotaro again! THAT IS SELF-HARM. THAT IS SELF-HARM. sobbing. he represses all his childlike play behaviors on the trip to Egypt and he only lets them out in the context of Hurting People, which is all he thinks he's good for.

there's a whole analysis I could write about Jotaro's sense of humor and the Crusaders' sense of humor and how it culminates in this, but basically, Jotaro's sense of humor is very dry and power-based. things are funny to him when he's winning and feels morally justified, and they're not funny when he's losing. this fits with the overall status of JJBA part 3: humor is linked to victory and to the concept of "rightness". when things are right with the universe, when revenge has been or is about to be dished out, that's when our main characters dish out servings of wit.

and Jotaro treats giving a sarcastic one-liner as something he knows he's supposed to do. he is arguably genre-aware ("oh? who's going to replace Jotaro Kujo as protagonist, then?"), and he's also aware that he isn't very good at being funny. ("I'm not very good at one-liners, so I'm just gonna beat you up now.") he covers for this by asking other people to say things in his stead ("Avdol, say something"), by being cool instead of making A Statement (pulling his hat down and muttering yare yare), by saying things that are more threatening/literal than funny per se ("what kind of sashimi would you like to be"), and by referencing other stories (see: "I watched a lot of Columbo as a kid", "if this were a Western I'd say, Draw. let's see who's the fastest gun in the West." But anyway, the point is, Jotaro treats being funny like a chore, like a responsibility, like it's his job to dispense grievous bodily harm AND laughs. together. as facets of the same thing: justice.

which makes sense from a Japanese high-school boy, especially given that he seems to have assumed the persona of a delinquent, where face and coming off as strong is paramount to your social survival / sense of self.

and if Jotaro dies here!!! it won't be funny!!!!

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

can you tell me about my aura? 🫶🔮♎️😴 thanks :)

Hi! Yes I can do that for you mamas.

I hear Pink, red ,yellow, and blue !

For yellow I giggled, I got a vision of the power puff girls. You have a very cute personality and it’s childlike. The pink in your aura shows me a bold courageous persona who is well liked. Blossom the powerpuff shows me you have a protective , leadership role you’ll be taking on real soon so be ready. Youre energy is very playful otherwise I wouldn’t get anything about power puffs omg 😂💕 I love it. I also see a vision of grown up power puff girls I actually seen this b4 and will add it later. I see something about clothes. A clothing line… And it’s bratz themed. You like makeup? I see something beauty related and in the creative industry.

Red aura i screamed cause I see butter cup however it’s not her color. You have a strong presence and your aura leans towards “masculine” and that’s ok. Explains why I see the creative industry because you’ll need to do more and apply extra force in what you create.

Butter cup is showing me that you have that fighter/warrior spirit and can take up any challenges in the near future. You should focus on yourself more as some people may try to take you as someone they can get over, n I hear “mean streak” with butter cup because she moves that weird behavior from folks out the way.

With the blue aura I hear “sky zone” which means to move past your limits. Look beyond what you think and change your perspective. However your blue part of your aura is saying take a trip to the beach as it “cools down” your vibe and calms you down. You need a pick me up. Yes it’s winter but it cleanses your aura and you need a bath with sea salt soon. Hope this helps!