#so I had a small crisis and ended up feeling some type of way

[hypodermicfroggy]

Light Pollution

I don't recognize the stars anymore.

Terrestrial life is one of changes It rises, it falls, it expands, it shrinks And while the stars are not immutable Their span is on a much longer scale

These lights above me are not the ones So constant and familiar That my two and four-legged ancestors both Could navigate their way back home by them

These lights are not the twinkling diamonds Born from the exhale of a warm sigh That captured the minds and hearts Of scientists and artisans for centuries

Their sparkle is cold, lifeless metal And impersonal binary. Yet these are not the capsules of my grandparents Crafted with hope and fear and passion

In a time when that vast black above Was not prime real estate to be simply colonized But a terrifying unknown to be respected As well as a new frontier to explore

These are cheap trinkets, baubles Manufactured en masse then left to rot A passing whim of a creator Who thinks himself a god of men But who has already grown bored Of his own toys like a child

They form a dirty choker around a blue wife's neck She has always been faithful to him Even while their heirs slowly poison her While he looks longingly at the mistress Dressed in her tempting shade of blood Waiting down a long and dangerous cosmic hallway

A new star attempts to rise and join its siblings Forced upwards by man's sheer will It rumbles, it roars, it streaks across the sky Searing red as something goes wrong

The chemical smell of fuel instead of wormwood.

Two hundred, five hundred A thousand years ago This would have been regarded as an omen A sign of the coming end of days.

But the true prophets have been blinded Their clear skies clouded by these false stars Placed by a false prophet, a man playing god A father of lies and broken promises of innovation

And so no one listens and heeds the warnings Until his stars come falling down A hundred thousand heralds burning bright Like the stars they pretended to be Revelations that are realized One minute too late

…I don't recognize the stars anymore.

[venusbyline]

Aemond Targaryen — The Beloved Son

— summary: If Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x brothel worker!reader

— type: smut, dark

— word count: 4.9k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NO EAT, rough sex, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mommy kink, breeding kink, breast worship, nipple licking, nipple play, overstimulation, pregnancy kink, dacryphilia, rough kissing, disturbed themes, age gap (older woman/younger man), Aemond is 19 and Reader is 29, biting, crying, pre-relationship, unhealthy relationships, referenced character death, Lucerys Velaryon mentioned, past underage sex, past child abuse, religious guilt and conflict, crisis of faith, blood licking, implied forced pregnancy, mommy issues, labor mentioned, implied Targtower Incest (mother/son) BUT NOT REALLY, implied Aemond Targaryen/Alicent Hightower BUT NOT REALLY, past Targcest (older sister/younger brother), past Aemond Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, referenced non-consensual somnophilia, referenced rape/non-con, referenced breastfeeding, referenced lactation kink, minor Helaegon, Aegon Targaryen mentioned, past Aemond Targaryen/Madam Sylvi, underage dubcon, minor Alicent Hightower/Criston Cole, curse words, mild angst, ambiguous/open ending, switch!Aemond, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: I decided to explore Aemond's "mommy issues" side. There's no real incest between Aemond and Alicent, but I put it as a trigger warning because there are scenes about them that can be uncomfortable to read. And also because I see their mother and son relationship too complex and intense. In my opinion, Aemond had an adoration and love for his mother in the season one that the writers left aside during the season two.

— author's notes²: Furthermore, I believe that Aemond's loss of virginity with Madam Sylvi may also influenced a part of his weird behaviour. So this time I wrote about the consequences of this in Aemond's mind, even a few years later. I see what happened with him in the books/show as a real child abuse, so don't read this fic if you've triggers with these themes. I do not support any form of abuse, this is just fiction.

— crossposting: AO3

❥ about me • Aemond masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

Aemond needed to vent. He needed some time away from all the chaos that must have been in the Red Keep since he confessed to killing Lucerys. Some time away from all the chaos he caused.

He remembered everything quite accurately. How he arrived at the castle with wide eyes and his body drenched, entering his mother's chambers without even knocking on the door. Alicent had let out a loud scream at the sudden appearance and covered her slim body with the white bedsheets. Despite there being no one there with her, his mother's body was sweaty and her cheeks were flushed, as if she had cum just a few minutes ago. At first he ignored the strange sight and muttered, with his voice trembling and weak, that he had become a kinslayer.

He remembered explaining confusingly how he was trying to scare Lucerys and ended up losing control of Vhagar, causing the old dragon to chew every bit of his nephew, only some remains of his tiny dragon falling from the sky.

He remembered Alicent widening her eyes, still covering her small breasts and telling Aemond to wait for her outside the room.

As much as he wanted to leave the place and wait for her in the hallway like the good son he had always been, Aemond nodded and left. Not just her chambers, but also the castle. He looked for any clothing that did not look so expensive as to give away his noble origins, and wore it along with a dark suit. He passed by Ser Criston Cole on the way out of the Red Keep, ignoring the fact that the guard's armor was not orderly as usual, and said something about needing to get some air away from there. Aemond did not wait for a response from the older man, knowing that it was only a matter of a few minutes for Alicent to look for Criston and tell him what her beloved boy had done.

Aemond was lost. He knew that.

As soon as Aemond entered the brothel, he looked everywhere for Madam Sylvi, his sweaty and trembling hands searching for the only woman who could perhaps help him.

When he was chasing Aegon together with Ser Criston to take him by force to his own coronation, he did not expect to be reunited with the prostitute who had taken his virginity. Aemond had an excellent memory and remembered that night very well, every second of that embarrassing moment. If he tried harder, Aemond could even feel Madam Sylvi's full lips around his still developing cock, or the way she lifted his wine-flushed face to her large breasts. Aegon demanded that she not be too soft with his younger brother, saying that a thirteen years old should already be brave enough to handle a little sexual intensity. However, the woman respected Aemond's nervousness and guided him calmly.

That night had not been so bad at all, even if he had not wanted it. He never returned to any brothel, his mother's disgusted reaction to Aegon's impulsive and selfish decision and her plea to Aemond not indulge in such promiscuity made him give up on going there again. He should do as she asked, marry a pretty noble lady and be a loyal husband, be Aegon's opposite.

He did not want to hurt his mother's feelings, he did not want her to look at him with the same look of disgust she gave her eldest son. He wanted to keep making Alicent proud, being her beloved son.

But Aemond had already failed with her the moment he decided to act like a spiteful boy and chase Lucerys through the skies. Now that he was a Kinslayer, his mother would fear him. She would be ashamed of him. I would see him as a murderer, cursing their whole family forever.

And if Aemond could not seek love from the only woman who would take him in her arms and caress his hair, then he needed to find a replacement. An older woman who could make him feel safe and loved again.

Perhaps Madam Sylvi could do that. When she spoke to Aemond when he and Ser Criston were looking for Aegon, she made it clear that he had grown up so well. She looked surprised, perhaps even horny.

Now, after six years without visiting the place, Aemond was there again. The place where he had promised his dear mother in the name of the Seven that he would never set foot again.

He needed to seek affection from Sylvi or another whore who would make him feel as loved as Alicent made him feel before he grew up. He needed to feel worthy and loved by a mother again.

That was a busy night at the brothel for you, too many clients for too few prostitutes to deal with them. Madam Sylvi warned the women that she would take a day off to rest, a privilege that only the oldest and most renowned courtesans were entitled to. Most of her favorite clients seemed angry about this fact, and even though you and the other girls explained the reasons as calmly as possible, no one cared about what you had to say.

Some people just rolled their eyes and walked away, others snorted and threw coins at you so you could do her job then, and some were even excited about fucking a different cunt.

It was not unknown to you why Sylvi had so many customers who frequented the place in search of her. She was very experienced, a beautiful older woman, with large hips and big breasts. She understood how to please men and even women, both sexually and emotionally.

"Where is Madam Sylvi?" A deep voice caught your attention from behind your shoulder, making you jump and widen your eyes, sighing embarrassed when you saw that it was just a customer.

"She is not here today, sir." You forced a smile, trying not to look too much at the eye patch the boy wore. It was strangely familiar and he had facial features that seemed more handsome than most of the men you served, even if he wore a hood that shadowed his details.

With a frown, the man clenched his jaw and muttered one more time. "I need her tonight. Right now."

You recognized almost all of Sylvi's frequent men, and that one was completely unknown to you. You bit your tongue to try not to question him about why he was so desperate to see the woman if he had never been there recently. However, you took a deep breath and forced another smile, your voice sweet and hiding your curiosity. "My apologies, sir, she is not here tonight. But you can look for another courtesan if you want to, we have many options." You reassured and tried to walk past him to go find another man or some woman who could pay you a few coins, before being stopped by the man's hand on your arm, keeping you close to him.

"Well, you are free to please me." It was not a question. He already knew you did not have any customers waiting. You stared at that violet eye for a few seconds, before swallowing hard, your throat hurting while you nodded, having no choice whatsoever. "Then get an empty, private room for us immediately."

You opened your mouth to explain that the isolated places required a greater amount of gold than the common services, but the man interrupted you, handing you a heavy bag full of coins that were almost slipping out of the opening. "I assume you will make it worth the price, woman."

The moment you and Aemond entered the isolated room, he watched you pulling the curtains until they closed, keeping the events that would follow there a secret from other people. Although you still did not realize who he really was, there was an expression on your face indicating that you were suspicious about something. Perhaps it was the money he was willing to spend without complaining during just one night with someone who was not even the courtesan he was looking for, perhaps it was the eye patch that left a little part of his scar exposed, perhaps it was the extremely pale skin...

It could be many things that were making you suspect there was something unusual happening.

When the other prostitutes finished pouring some wine into two glasses and warming the place with candles, Aemond finally cleared his throat, almost as if he were embarrassed or did not know what to do.

"How old are you?" He asked in a more vulnerable voice than he intended, cursing himself for it.

Your brow furrowed at the rude question. There were men who sought out younger and less experienced whores to satisfy some dark desires, but you doubted that was the case. "Twenty-nine, sir."

Aemond sighed and nodded, satisfied with the answer. You might not be as old as Madam Sylvi or Alicent herself, but you were a maturer age than his. It made him less tense. "Good... That is good." He muttered, his single eye directed to the ground when some thoughts shuffled through his mind. A part of Aemond hated himself for having listened to his mother's advice to never set foot in a brothel again. Now, he was ten and nine and barely knew how to talk to a whore, while Aegon must have already fucked even the one he was about to try something on. "Has King Aegon II already enjoyed your services?"

His words caught you off guard, making you fidget with some discomfort, sitting on the mattresses around the floor, your robe tied and expecting anything other than that. "I cannot expose any of my clients' secrets, much less our King."

Aemond hummed without surprise, already expecting an empty answer like that. He took off the hood that shadowed the most part of his face, revealing his long silver hair tied with a not very effective ponytail and the violet eye that shone much brighter now without the dark fabric that made you unable to noticed the true color.

You did not have to be so smart to know the man in front of you was a Targaryen. A Targaryen prince. Perhaps...

"Aemond." His name dripped from your lips like the sweetest honey. "Aemond Targaryen."

The prince maintained his look of neutrality and almost disdain, nodding and then shrugging. "Or Aemond One-Eye, like some people call me. Your King Aegon is my older brother." Due to your lack of response and your wide eyes, Aemond sighed. "And I asked you a question about my brother. Are you going to answer it or not, woman?"

"He... He never fucked me, Your Grace. During the few times I saw him around here, he was either too much drunk or already busy with another courtesan."

That was good. Someone untouchable by Aegon. Not like his mother, who had given birth to Aegon three years before him, contaminating her precious womb with that bitter soul she one day carried, swearing that her firstborn would become an ambitious and noble-hearted boy, worthy to sit in the Iron Throne.

You also would not be like Madam Sylvi, who had already slept with Aegon several times even before his brother forced him to wet his cock inside her during his thirteenth name day.

You were... Pure. Not for the eyes of the world, which saw you as a mere whore, a hole for fun. You were pure for Aemond's eyes. You were untouchable by Aegon's filthy hands. You could be like a mother to Aemond. Hold him like Alicent had held him when he was a child, you could let him fuck you like Madam Sylvi had done when he was just a little boy...

You could be whatever Aemond asked you to be. His whore for some minutes but his mother afterwards. It will be a way to distract himself from what he had done to his nephew. A way to justify his impulsive actions that were about to declare war.

Aemond thought to himself if he should let it all out and just leave later on. That was what he planned to do with Madam Sylvi, even though she was attractive and hot.

Gods, he should not even be there, with the curtains closed and an older but kind woman waiting for him sitting on the mattress, your robe tied carelessly so you could seduce the customers who saw the smooth and transparent silk cloth covering just a little of your beautiful body. He should be with his mother, asking for forgiveness due the war he would cause, begging for the kisses on the forehead that she used to give him when he was younger.

Aemond should just turn around and leave. Leave and wait for Sylvi the next night.

Or rather, he should leave that dirty place forever and go to the Septa to seek forgiveness for his terrible behavior and quick promiscuous solutions.

Of course Aemond should do anything like this. And yet he did not. There was something interesting about being there, analyzing you as if you were fresh meat. Analyzing every detail like he did when he was buying some wooden toys for his nephews Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

He was analyzing everything with precision, and was enjoying every bit of that vision. "Tell me your name." He crossed his arms, none of his clothes other than his hood were off his body.

You bit the lip before whispering your name and repeating it later, along with your last name. The prince nodded, humming the name on his mouth to test the sound. Enjoying the result, Aemond gestured to your robe and you immediately obeyed his nonverbal demand, untying the knot and letting the thin fabric fall around the mattress, your bright eyes lifting so you could see how the Targaryen prince was reacting.

With flushed cheeks and arms crossed again, Aemond walked a little closer to you, steady and slow steps until he was face to face with you. His index finger lifted your chin with a calm that was the opposite of everything you were used to in the brothel. You even believed that he could treat you really well, unlike other rude customers. But your hope disappeared the moment he grabbed your cheeks, his short nails digging into your skin and forming tears in the corners of your eyes.

"I need... I guess I need to take my emotions out on something. On Someone."

You did not dare blink, muttering an agreement and not resisting when the prince pushed you to lie down. His body was warm, unlike his hands that was cold from sweat. You remained in the position Aemond had placed you in, lying beneath him with your legs spread to let him take control if he wished.

Aemond's heart beat fast, knowing this would be the second time he was about to fuck a woman. The second time he was going against the Faith of the Seven, against his mother's requests. Hurting the feelings of the woman he loved most and probably amusing his older brother, who should have been laughing and drinking, finding it funny that Aemond had not only killed his own nephew due some petty revenge, but was also now enjoying the pleasures he had always despised.

"Do you need help, Your Grace?" You worked up the courage to ask the prince as you noticed how his fingers were a pathetic mess, unable to undo the ties on his own pants after he freed himself from the tunic.

Aemond wanted to tell you to fuck off. To tell you to be quiet and let him fuck your cunt until it is dripping with his seed. Until you are pregnant with a silver-haired bastard. He wanted to humiliate you like Aegon did to all whores.

But for the Seven Gods' sakes... He did not want to be like Aegon anymore.

"I do not know!" Aemond shouted, breaking the silence of the private room. He stopped trying to get rid of his clothes and turned his body to the other side. His heart felt like it was about to explode, his hands were trembling again and his legs were weak. Aemond's head ached like the Seven Hells and he had not drunk any drop of wine that the other courtesans had left there for the two of you. "Gods! I thought this would help me, but I can barely get my fucking cock out!"

Your body moved closer to his, pressing your face against Aemond's warm and bare back. His breathing became more erratic when you remained quiet, but brushed the tip of your nose against his skin as if you were a kitten.

Aemond opened his mouth to scold you for your childish action, and then closed it. There was something different about your silent actions. You did not judge him for being there, you did not mock him when he failed to drop his pants and fuck you fast like any man in their right minds would do. Aemond was far from a sane man and it did not take long for you to notice that.

Even though he was fully aware that you might change your mind about him when you learned the truth of what he had done to his own half-sister's son, Aemond let out a sigh of relief. Neither of you moved the bodies, feeling something good from that whole complex situation.

Then Aemond turned to you, his eye filled with tears that he cursed himself for letting escape. His palm went to your chin, holding it softer than he had done before. It was gentle and almost delicate now. Everything he liked to be for his mother. A good boy. A good son.

The prince looked down at your naked body, your breasts so inviting to him that he did not think twice and immediately touched them, squeezing the soft flesh with an inexperience that was cute to you. Aemond only felt the smoothness of a female chest three times during his entire life.

One of them was when he was just four years old and he was jealous of his mother breastfeeding his youngest brother Daeron after his birth. So he touched Alicent and asked for her milk too, which was denied and he spent hours crying until he got distracted by some wooden toy that which the maids brought at Alicent's request, to entertain the greedy little boy as quickly as they could. After that, Daeron began to be fed by a wet nurse and Aemond never noticed his mother's breast milk again.

The second time was when Helaena was pregnant with the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys. Aemond was still an innocent twelve years old boy and was very curious seeing how the girl's breasts were suddenly bigger due to the breast milk. His youthful curiosity got the better of him and he took advantage of the fact that his older sister always let him sleep next to her when Aegon was busy fucking whores in the brothels. He snuggled into a hug with Helaena as she slept and pulled the neckline of her nightgown aside, playing with his thumbs on her nipples until they were leaking white and sweet drops.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Aegon arrived drunk just as he was sucking Helaena's nipples, being breastfed like a baby. Aegon laughed loud at the scene. Aemond's cute lips were so wet with his sister's milk and his face was reddish like a strawberry, body shaking as he explained himself in the least convincing way possible. But fortunately for Aemond, Helaena did not wake up and probably never found out about his immoral act. Or at least he preferred to believe that she never found out about that.

Despite having begged for forgiveness at the Septa so many times, Aemond was dragged against his own will by his older brother to a brothel to celebrate his thirteenth name day. He did not want none of that and he was angry with Aegon, but also scared of the whole situation that would develop, even if a part of him wondered if this was some divine punishment he deserved for taking advantage of his dear sister's innocence during her sleep.

The night of the loss of his virginity had been the third and until then the last time that Aemond touched any intimate part of a female body, his young and plump face buried in the middle of Madam Sylvi's large chest.

He had promised to the Gods that he would only do something like that again with his future wife. But here he was, thumbs rolling your hard beaks and making you gasp. Aemond may not have been sexually experienced like his brother Aegon, and not like his uncle Daemon or his sluttly half-sister Rhaenyra, but he was a quick learner with a good memory.

He remembered Madam Sylvi encouraging him to pay a special attention to her nipples using his mouth, and Aemond was eager to follow that old lesson. Wrapping one of your beaks with his lips, Aemond licked you like a hungry man, his tongue swirling around it and then nibbling.

Every muffled moan that left your lips was like music to the Prince's ears.

Once your breasts were completely soaked with Aemond's spit and red marks from the bites he gave you, Aemond smirked satisfied, the desperation that was taking over his mind disappearing and giving space to the lust building up inside his veins.

He spread your legs like he watched Aegon do with the maids when they were both younger, smirking at the view of your wet cunt, the pubic hair glistening with your own juices. "Fuck, you are really dripping. I thought you whores got paid to pretend, not to actually enjoy it."

You moaned at his mockery. In fact, you did not usually feel pleasure with your customers, even the most frequent ones who were not rough to you. They always focused on themselves, not really caring if what you were feeling was pleasurable or not.

But Aemond Targaryen was different. He was appreciating your body, hands on your breasts as if you were an anchor keeping him safe, face in front of your legs, excited to devour you and satisfy all his hunger.

Aemond Targaryen barely seemed to see you as a whore. He seemed to be seeing you as a woman he wanted to worship more than anything. Almost like a...

"Do you have children?"

The prince was full of random questions, and it was another one of the moments when he crossed an unusual line. Why the hells was this important? Was he some boring man who wanted to have sex just with not so experienced whores? Was he disgusted by pregnancies?

"I do. I have... two kids."

The words was almost impossible to hear. Anyone would tell you to repeat what you said. Anyone could be angry due the answer. Anyone but Aemond Targaryen. The prince's keen hearing caught your words perfectly, a smirk of relief and excitement pulling at his lips.

It was perfect. Almost too perfect to be true.

It did not matter where your children were now. It did not matter if they might be suffering from having a mother working in a brothel to be able to feed them with the bare minimum. All that mattered to Aemond at that moment was that you had two children. Just like Alicent had Aegon and Helaena before he was born.

He could pictured himself coming out of his mother's womb. She always said that Aemond was the most painful birth of all, as the boy came out of her womb with such eagerness that the midwives swore it almost caused a hemorrhage inside Alicent's cunt. While Aegon's birth had been traumatizing due to the fact that it was Alicent's first time going through that labor experience, Helaena's birth was soft. The little girl was born so silent that for a few seconds the Queen feared she had been born dead, but Helaena cried when Alicent began to sob, as if she was feeling her mother's emotional pain.

Aemond remembered how his mother described the birth of each of them, even Daeron, who was the fastest of all to be born. And one thing Aemond would never forget was how his mother described his birth.

Alicent said it was like giving birth to a dragon. She felt like she was being ripped from the inside out and for a moment she could swear that little Aemond enjoyed hearing her screams of pain while the midwives were desperate to help stop the bleeding. She said he stopped crying immediately, the sounds of her suffering calmed him.

If he came out of Alicent's body like a dragon whelp, then he would come into yours with all the Targaryen fire inside his veins too. The true perfect replacement for her mother could handle anything. Perhaps he could really trust you to vent and look for affection if you also saw him as your and Alicent's third children. The most devout and the most feared. He could be that for both of you.

Six years ago, Aemond had no awareness about how to please a woman. He was sure that Sylvi had pretended to cum so that he would not feel so humiliated, not that it mattered anyway, since Aemond had not lost his virginity by choice and Madam was already used to faking pleasure reactions for the vast majority of men who visited her brothel. However, there with you, after not knowing how to deal with the chaos tormenting his own mind, Aemond allowed himself to lower his head and get between your legs, rubbing his tongue on the swollen bud that he knew what it was based on what it was written in the forbidden books of the library in the castle.

At first, the movements of his tongue were disorganized and uncomfortable, and you tried to guide his head, but Aemond bit your thigh, drawing some blood from you and hearing you cry out. Aemond did not care about any of that, licking up the red drops that dripped down and going back to licking your clit, taking a little more care than before, understanding that he had done something wrong. He made his tongue less pointy and flattened it better, rubbing it against your cunt and giving gentle licks, eating out the juices that dripped from your wet hole and then moving it up to focus on your clit, trembling moans escaping you while you rolled the eyes at the sensation.

Your thighs trembled and your back arched upward, forcing Aemond to grip your legs to keep your body down, the wet sucking noises buzzing in his ear when you had the first release.

Aemond did not wait you to recover yourself from your high. He kept your legs open with one of his large hands, the other undoing the ties of his pants more quickly than during the first attempt, throwing them to the side and caressing his hard cock. You looked at his muscular torso and looked down at his long legs and the dark hair on his groin.

You did not even need to entertain him with false praises or get him drunk with the wine the other prostitutes prepared for the two of you. Aemond was ready for it and ignoring his own nervousness.

He spat into his palm, pressing his arousal one last time and finally slamming into you, the abrupt stretch hurting your cunt, lips parted and eyes widening when Aemond ignored your brief pain and started moving his hips, letting out low guttural growls at the feeling of your tight warm walls crushing him.

"Your Grace..." You moaned in a mix of pleasure and discomfort, the thrusts hitting the soft part of your cervix and making you see stars.

Aemond smirked at your incoherent moans, lowering himself until his face was close to yours, capturing your mouth in an aggressive kiss, uncoordinated tongues together, teeth practically devouring each other's lower lip. The exchange of saliva tasted like blood and your own cum.

He had not felt the sensation of being inside a woman in so many years that the pleasure was almost like losing his virginity for a second time. It was intense, strange and desperate. He needed more. He needed to fuck you deep inside, until you were like Alicent, carrying a part of him in your womb.

The faster he got closer to his orgasm, the more Aemond's low growls became whispers begging the Gods for forgiveness and also tearful moans calling you his mother. Prayers and cries coming from a filthy sinner in search of redemption, or from an innocent little boy who needed the love of the woman who gave birth to him.

With each violent thrust inside your tight and sore cunt, Aemond pictured a little silver-haired boy coming out of you after nine moons and destroying you just like he had done to Alicent during his own childbirth.

Now that the only woman who ever loved him with her entire body and soul saw him as a monster, Aemond wished that future routine nights with you in the brothel could fill the void inside his heart. However, deep down Aemond knew that no one could ever love him more than the woman who brought him into the world. For Aemond, failing Alicent was worse than failing the Gods. And there was no divine or maternal forgiveness for a murderer.

[yanderestarangel]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | "𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄?"

TW: dark themes, toxic relationship, physical aggression, afab anatomy, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, yandere themes, smut, nsfw.

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ SHANG TSUNG : You two met when he went to collect a debt from one of your neighbors in the small village where you lived with your family, he would ask if your neighbor was there, since he didn't answer the door, you would talk distractedly taking care of some flowers that I didn't know for sure, oh my, the wizard was already madly in love with you, he would ask for some water and then ask your name and then kiss the back of your hand leaving with some men. From then on, his life would be a real hell. He would research everything about you and your family, he would be the type who would first try to win you over like a normal person, but soon he would see that you didn't seem very interested in her, soon leading him to a plan B. - He would start threatening the owner of renting your house immediately increasing the monthly payment, leaving you and your family in complete despair, however, he appeared as a "great savior" giving the house to your family again, with one caveat, you would have to go out to dinner with he. Shang Tsung was very seductive, he would pick you up at home, dressed in beautiful gold and red royal attire, loose hair and extremely expensive perfume, he would know how to convince you to stay with him, telling you how lucky you were that he had bought your house, in no time you would be in his hands and with sweet words and some wine, he would be between your legs at the end of the night, fucking you hard and slapping your face.

You two start dating immediately, and it becomes hell in your life, Shang wouldn't let you go home anymore, you would practically live with him in his castle, all his henchmen from exoterra weren't even allowed to breathe near you, much less let you go out without him around. He would be busy with business but he would leave you beautiful and locked up in another shared house between the two of you - don't take him the wrong way, but he wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you in a house full of likely exits to run away and never come back to him again. -

He is well controlled, Shang really knows that you won't leave him, because in addition to having developed emotional dependence on you on purpose, he could kill your beloved family at any moment - perhaps he even did this before, so you could only have him, but just maybe- But every jealous crisis he has you will be fucked by her until you can no longer walk, he will sink into you without any mercy for your poor pussy, talking while he puts his dick in you with all his strength that you are a dirty slut who wants to give that pussy to anyone, and that only he can have your body and heart, whether you want it or not.

You wouldn't, like never, if you even dared to mention that you wanted to end the relationship you would see a family member of yours killed, by your boyfriend while he smiled insanely and asked if he heard what you meant to say correctly. He would also never break up with you, for him you are the only one in his life and will always be and if you try to run away he will find you and make your life hell, first of all you wouldn't even leave the exoterra, he literally has contact with You wouldn't even be able to get a ride to go as far as possible from exo terra and if you did, it would be one of contacts to pick you back up. You would soon realize that it wasn't the right way and you would panic seeing Shang Tsung just ahead waving happily to the driver. You would try to scream and then cry but there was nothing else you could do in that situation, he would take you home and soon he would have him by your side and kissing your neck, of course, with your wrist held by a pair of handcuffs on your wrist. At the head of the bed, he would lay his head on you, hugging you while your tears flowed : "-My love, you will never leave here, you will die here, whether you want it or not."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ BI HAN : Please never have a relationship with this man, seriously darling, Bi Han is the type of man that you can't even breathe someone else's air and he will have a jealous crisis taking you both home - this man's crises are always happen with the two of you out - he wouldn't be shy and say that you were wearing too short clothes to go out and that's why you were at home - not because he was jealous because you simply smiled at the waiter after he gave you a drink - and After arriving home, the two of you would have extremely violent sex on Bi Han's part, he would record fucking your pussy from behind while pulling your hair - regardless of whether your hair was short or not, he is 6'1 tall, meaning he would reach your head calm down - and right after cumming inside you, his cum warmed your entrance recording the cum dripping from your pussy. He would also be extremely controlling with things related to your work, forget leaving the house after dating him, you only go out with him or if you are accompanied by a man he trusts from the Lin Kuei - Mainly Sektor - if he knows you left alone he would have an outbreak when he got home - let's say maybe, but just, maybe, he put a tracker on you, with the help of Sektor, specifically on your cell phone or maybe on yourself, this man is sick - and this outbreak it would generate an outcry from him, and you would only hear it silently, crying quietly, since the last time you raised your voice to him you left the mark of his hand on your face for 3 days. He's the type to punish you physically, he thinks you'll learn better from pain. Things like hitting you if you dare to raise your voice to him have become normal in his life, he also faithfully believes that hitting you is not wrong and will never apologize for the opposite, he will pretend nothing happened and have breakfast with you like a happy couple. Unlike the others on the list, there is no way not to notice the red flags in the relationship, you went into this knowing how problematic Bi Han was and thought you could change him in some way, you were mortally mistaken. If you tried to escape from your house he would find you in hell, the entire Lin Kuei would come after you, and deaths would happen because your dear boyfriend knows that you couldn't bear to see civilians dying because of you. Soon the grand master would see you come out of a small house in the village that you were hiding with your hands up, there were people looking at you shocked by everything and others dead on the ground as you passed, obviously all the witnesses would be neutralized. Bi Han hugged you tightly, placing kisses on your head as he carried you in his arms. "-I told you my love, you will never run away from me, you are my soulmate, have you forgotten? If you try to do something like that again, I swear I will slowly kill every person you love in this life."

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHNNY CAGE: This man is a Labrador type, he is a cute man but when he wants to he can turn your life into hell. You met Johnny in one of his films, and he soon became very passionate and in a record amount of time you began to have a relationship, in the beginning it was always normal and respectful, but he has already shown some strange signs, like always asking what you smiled so much writing on your cell phone - which was ironic since he was always glued to his cell phone - which would generate a mini fight between the two of you with Johnny saying that he was afraid of losing you, that he couldn't live without you and that he would do anything To have you by his side, he's the type who will apologize for raising his voice in a fight but will try to justify why he did it. The man will go slowly, showing several red flags, such as expelling his friends from the house that was shared, saying that he had had enough of the noise and that he needed to rest from unlike your friends leaving a horrible atmosphere in the room. You looked at your boyfriend in disbelief as he opened the door and each of your friends came out awkwardly smiling in your direction, the argument between you would be heated with him calling you a slut in the process which would make the older man apologize soon after while you If you locked yourself in the bathroom, you would only make up when you left the room and saw Cage silently crying while looking at your photos. He really has problems with trust, he loves you and trusts you, but he can't say the same about his friends and the world in general, even with you being in his life for many years, he doesn't trust himself, you two would end up fucking with Johnny Cage beneath you talking about how he couldn't see his life without you, while you rode him and kissed him, the man's hips went in desperate rhythm as he saw the goddess that was you moaning on his dick, and oh my he could never lose you.

+ BONUS CHARACTER

｡˚☽˚｡⋆ KUAI LIANG : Kuai Liang is literally on the same level as Bi Han, seriously, maybe even worse. This man would lay eyes on you for the first time and soon become obsessed, in this context you would be a support soldier in the mission against Perseus, everything was supposed to be normal but you soon find yourself cornered by Kuai and his sick thoughts. The man wouldn't give you a choice, either you stay with him or you die, simple as that. He would first try to win you over by normal methods, like bringing flowers or inviting you to dinner and if you accepted, you would fall into his web of control. This relationship would be a prison, you couldn't leave this man's side and if you did it without authorization you would be punished, he would love to punish you with humiliation, making you suck his dick under the table while there is a very important meeting with the Lin Kuei or just you depriving you of wearing clothes at home, he would always, literally always, fuck you, the bastard knew how to break your mind, he knew how to have sex that made you cry while you trembled on his thick cock. During sex he would praise you saying how good you are for taking his dick so well in your pussy, you were already not feeling very well with everything that was happening, so a Stockholm syndrome bond was formed with the man, rightfully so. to you crying every time Kuai deprived you of contact. Well, I think that with all this there's no need to say how jealous he is, you're just his, it could have happened that a man who tried to buy you a drink turned up dead in some alley, he's not the type to hit you , but, he will do much worse things. You will never escape, forget that dear, he will put you in a house far away from everything and everyone with the security system high and to avoid the risk of an escape, so you just let the man take control of your life. Kuai Liang would arrive home and see you on the porch, sitting in a beautiful white flowy dress that showed off your cleavage all dressed up, you looked sadly at the forest landscape around you, life had already left your eyes, you were a soulless doll, Kuai's broken doll, he sat next to you, slowly placing you on his lap while running his hand through your soft hair, you were broken, Kuai Liang knew, but there was no going back.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2033

[icarusredwings]

Carly Crocker

(Not to be confused with Carly Boothe, That's Al's girlfriend, This is Beast's wife, Story of Wade meeting her at the end)

The beauty and the beast episode pissed me off, so let's go, In finding home AU Carly Anne Crocker (aka the ex blind girl) shows up later to the mansconfesses her feelings to Hank. This time, Jeans words ring in his head about letting a girl decide how much she wants to risk and can't turn her away. If anything, he is overwhelmed with joy. I mean, come on, it doesn't take a genius to know he struggles with romance so the fact that he loved her so much and let her go, and she still came back to him? It's enough to make his entire face purple and spin her around. And if you're wondering, 'Do they replace Scott and Jean as the mansion 'lovebirds' ?'

YES. Yes, they do. Because there is not a word that describes how utterly whipped he is for her, and she sees no one else the way him, even before the operation. She can still recognize him by scent and foot steps alone.

Now that I fixed that, here's some head canons.

Carly, now that she stays at the mansion, can quickly be unnoticeable, especially if you don't go in the basement or the lab. Most people only first meet/ notice her when he comes upstairs with her on his arm.

She is mainly seen talking with Jean, but she has no distaste for any of the others. Anyone can come talk to her, and she would be more than happy to talk. She does occasionally ask questions that might seem personal, letting her curiosities of her new friends get to her.

Asking Kurt why his tail wraps around peoples legs when he hugs them, asking Kitty what would happen if she accidently got stuck in a wall, asking Ororo why she was claustrophobic, asking Logan what it was like in the 1800s. Asking Remy what it was like growing up on the streets with his type of powers. She once even asked Charles if he had regrets about opening a school.

Some things she just stook to asking Hank about. Like why Rouge didn't have a very strong trust in other women other than the ones on the team. Or How Scott delt with all the preasure of somehow representing the X men when the entire world seemed to dislike them until a time of crisis when heros are needed.

For the most part, he'd quote something at her or give her a simple awnser. "My dear, Rouge has had a hard life, and not a great time with her mother. I would steer clear of asking her this directly seeing as you dont wish to upset her, do you?" Its asked in a genuine stand point. Never trying to shame her into not being curious.

Of course, she doesn't wish to upset her friends. But there is so many lies on the media and they hold struggles she couldn't possibly understand without asking.

Hank is very chivalrous, between opening doors, taking her hand when they go up the steps, writing her notes, looks away when he feels shes indecent (dispite them having gotten married almost asap) Brings her small gifts of flowers and cakes, anything really he finds she might enjoy.

Being practically attached to the hip, she learns a lot of things and becomes somewhat of an assistant type, bringing him things, scolding him for staying up too late, forcing him to take breaks in order to eat, teasing him as a last resort. It's very Pepper Potts of her really.

Except Hank isn't like Stark. He listens (most days 🙄) seeing as he finds Carly can be very.. distracting.. when she wants too.

Mainly, She dosn't call him beasts unless she is saying "My Beast" or "Youre the only beast in my heart." Sappy stuff like that drives Hank insane. What also makes him a bit looney is when she refers to herself as "Mrs. McCoy." Or calls for him with a sweet low "Oh, Henry~"

Other than that, it's either Hank, Dr. McCoy or just Sweetie.

Carly also doesn't mind him hanging from things. She finds it cute and often teases him about Spiderman kissing her. She also simply adores when the bed dips down low and she can cuddle him like a huge teddy. Who needs a blanket when your husband was covered in the softest fur you've ever felt?

Sometimes Carly brushes him out, to save the drain later you know? But also it felt nice to get him to finally relax and lean into her. She would kiss his face and tell him how handsome he is, dragging the brush across his arms and chest, giggling at how love drunk he looks.

Other times, when Carly got cold she'd just come to him and he'll hold her while working, walking around with her in his arm, her snuggled up on his shoulder. Something Carly has learned is that Hank is very touchy. Almost starved for it so she dosn't mind being carried or held.

He rubs her back, pecking kisses onto her head while he types up something or reads. Sometimes the children make fun of him, comparing carly and him to when king kong grabs that girl and climbs the empire state building. It makes Hank a bit upset but Carly giggles because they have no clue just how safe she feels in his arms.

I wanna assume that during her periods he carries her extra and wraps one of those travel heating pads around her, gives her pain meds and makes her food. Domestic stuff that really just makes you wanna AUUUGGHH when you think about it cause god damn hes a romantic.

At first, Hank, being so gentle with her was sweet. How gently he'd hold her in bed, how softly he'd be sure to grip her when carrying her. But Carly gets a bit frustrated when Hank acts like she's made from glass.

I can see him humming Mozart to her, calling her Dear 24/7, quoting poetry to her, being sure to kiss her before he leaves on missions, etc.

He is OBSESSED when she wears his white coat because its so big on her. He thinks its adorable and cant help but stare when ever he sees her walking around in it. (Even though she lowkey looks like the pope) Carly likes wearing it when its cold in the lab or when shes taking a nap in his library chair because it smells like him. Hank has many pictures of her but one of his favorites is when you fell asleep in his chair while wearing his coat and you can clearly see in the picture that you dozed off while reading. He thinks its absolutely the best thing in that stupid cellular device.

I can definitely see their first night together- TOGETHER being something difficult. Hes too gentle with her and it takes her riling him up to get him to fuck her properly. She fully understands what shes getting into and they have plenty of time and lube, so why not?

"Henry my darling, I love you very much, and I know you are scared but I am not damaged, I'm not going to shatter if you touch me. I'm not an old vase, I am your wife. One who is capable of deciding when it's enough. So please.. stop treating me like im a pricless artifact."

"B-but you are priceless-"

"Henry-" she gives him this look of 'quit the bs'

"O-okay... I suppose I can try.."

Once she breaks his whole "I can't be too rough or ill hurt her cause shes human" bullshit mindset, It's insane.

No, they aren't rabbits but it is quite frequent and its a shock how they haven't gotten pregnant yet.

If anything its like they both cant get enough of each other, between the whispers she does in his ear to his hands around her waist all the time.

Sweet jesus. Poor Logan. He has to hear all this. He (both old logan and worst logan) is very happy for his friend but GOD he didnt ever think he'd hear someone moan 'Oh fuck- Henry!' before as loudly as Carly does. Jesus sometimes he wishes he didnt have super hearing.

It's not until Storm mentions that Hank has a wife during orientation, in which Wade finds out, and clearly, he has to go tease her about it.

Sliding onto the stainless steel work place he smirks. He's in his regular clothes today so he fully expects her to scream. She dosn't.

"Oh.. Hello. Dr. McCoy is out at the moment." She says, like an assistant does.

He smiles all big and leans forward. "So you're married to big blue huh?"

Quite proudly she smiles. "Yes. I am."

"Wwooww good for him. Actually, it's no good for you." The first part seems normal, but it's never normal with Wade. "Does he bend you over that table over there?" He blurts out. Well shit- that was suppose to stay inside.

But Carly already is smirking. "Yes, he does. It's deeply sanitized."

Wades eyes widden as if he had hit jackpot. Everyone in this stuffy place was all stuck up and prim and proper. So to hear Carly straight up admit this felt like immediate friendship.

"Wooo look at you girl. Get it. But I gotta ask. Why?"

"Why the table or why did I marry him?"

"Oooh... Both!"

"Well, A. It's fun. B. He's a good man. He's very sweet to me, even when I was blind I knew there was something about him. He cares for me so much more then anyone else has."

Wade feels like he can relate. He wants to say something honest like 'Yeah, He is a pretty good guy isnt he?' But instead his brain had other ideas.

"What? You into weird lookin mutants or something?" He makes a face that would have been wiggling his brows, if he had any.

It makes Carly shake her head, giggling.

"Well, not particualry but... You know what they say about guys with big feet.."

This made sense about wolvie actually..

He gasps loudly, hand coming to his mouth. "You naughty gal!! So it is true. You know, I've always wondered myself."

"Mmh. Now that I awnsered your questions, you have to awnser mine about the Wolverine."

"Ooh smart. Did your research I see. Who warned you I was coming?"

She gigles again. "My husband."

"Ahh that snitch. So. What do you wanna know? Im an open book but I do have a lying disorder. Full warning."

"Is it true what they say? That canadians make good lovers?" She asks, leaning on the table that Wade was now kicking his feet on.

"Unless...y'know... if you're into that sort of thing." This last bit is a whisper as Wade daintily flashes the tags around his neck while trying to give her a flirty face. "I'm owned, baby! You can't have me. Im too expensive."

He gasps again, putting a hand to his chest. "Woah woah woah! Ladies! Calm down. Im a married man!!"

COUGH engaged. Actually COUGH

Again, Carly shakes her head, giggling. Goodness. What a character this one was. "No, unfortunately, I am not. And im sure you are."

"Well, good! Cause if you break my friends heart ill rip yours out." He says, smiling, but you could tell behind those moonstone eyes that there was no joke about it.

"If I ever break his heart, I'll rip it out myself." Carly says, staring him dead center. She wasn't afraid. Should she be? Yes. But she wasn't. Because she knows the only way Hank was getting rid of her was if he cheated or hit her.

Just as he was about to say something else, he turns, hearing a "Wade?" In which suddenly he gasps again, drimatically. "Woah!! Stay off me lady! You're married!! What would ol hanky panky think about this!?" It's loud, over the top, and he even holds himself like carly was just trying to strip him all while she stood there, crossed arms, hip out and only a slightly entertained smirk.

"Really?"

"Wade what do you need?" Said blue guy asks, coming around to set down two lunch trays.

"Your wifes tryna get dirty with the poole Hank!" He says and now theres two people giving him a stupid look.

"Yeah.. riiigghhhtt.... anyway. I believe Logan is looking for you. Shall I tell him you're busy?"

Wade grins widely as he jumps off the table. "Nope. Have a wonderful day. Great meeting you. You're nothing like my roommate's girlfriend Carly, though. She's polish. You dont look polish-"

"Wade.."

"Bye! My HUSBAND is callin me!" He says, practically skipping away, out of their hair and into someone elses.

".. What a weird man." She says, watching him go. "Indeed..."

[vinestaffery]

if I could request something I’d love hc’s on darkheart it’s completely fine if not though I loved ur illumina ones and thought you might be willing to do darkheart:)!

-🩶

darkheart x gender-neutral reader headcanons

content: slight jealousy themes; worshipping elements; romantic headcanons; established relationship; mentions of insecurity of body

authors note: i had actually started this writing a while back, but lost the draft after my computer shut down which caused a major meltdown and pause for me when writing. so sorry for the wait, tried retrieving as much info about the old writing before!

pulling darkheart was something that was completely off of your list. it was strange how such a man could fall for someone like you, but it didn't seem to affect you as much. he was just the same as you, just a few more advancements and such. but, that didn't stop you from loving each and every bit about him. he was so lovable, you couldn't take anyone else other then him repeatedly.

very poetic, but that type of corny poetic, the one where he'd try fluster you but it'd leave you embarrassed and giggling, those are the types of flirts he loves doing around you. hearing your laugh and such just motivates him everyday. he couldn't help but feel proud of himself whenever he got that one smile or laugh out of you just for him being him.

he would always blabber about you to the other deities, sometimes even pissing them off because of how much he just talked about you!! oh he was overjoyed to have you as a partner, i mean, who wouldn't?

he NEVER struggled with affection, unless he wasn't in the certain mood to take it in. but, when hes not in an angry and a type of mood where you'd back off but still cherish his presence, he is the biggest cuddle bear possible. he picks you up, swings you around before embracing you. he were to be acting as if he hasn't seen you after a war! but, it always felt nice to feel him wrap his arms around him and question about your day.

always a gifter, specifically a strange gifter, but you love the little things he sees you in. sometimes, he'd bring you glass-stones or shiny material, it reminded you of a crow! he'd always deliver them by the door whenever he can or window, surprising you with the strangest of gifts. he found it ever so enchanting to see just figments of you in every little tiny thing, settling his interest only on delivering it to you. you have even dedicated this small thing of his to a whole array of ornaments! you just loved his little knick knacks and his lovable, dumb head.

sometimes, you'd play around with him and give him some sort of worshipping-type feeling. it never failed him to fluster or embarrass him, but it all for jokes (nothing sexual) that he tends to do with you! sometimes, he'd worship you in a lovable way, sometimes making the smallest of gestures. but, he does this MOSTLY whenever your insecure of yourself.

you have a tummy? who cares! he loves that shit. you got a small chest and believe you don't represent too much? don't you dare say that! your more then anything! your struggling with some identity issues and crisis's? dont worry, he'll be right there to tell you its completely okay, and that he sees you for who you are. he is so accepting and he'll take that to the grave!

sometimes, he struggles to get some sleep. for some guy, he really doesn't know how sleeping with someone works. sometimes, you can feel his legs tangle with yours, but he'd shy away and apologise. you'd end up tangling yours with his. sometimes, his wings may be the worst case for him, but that doesn't stop you from trying your best to help out.

this guy really likes weight ontop of him (self indulgence here, apologies!!!), so please do whatever you can to give him that weight. you want to just lay on him? go right ahead! he'd love that shit. he'll wrap his arm around you and just hold you close.

a great cook, but also a goofster with it too. sometimes, he'll make the cooking look a bittt funky, but that doesn't stop him from making the gourmet dishes. but, sometimes, he may make something thats... a bit strange. not to recall, that one kitchen incident you both had once!

i know i said this with illumina's one, but he would also do the one where he'd put his chin on your head and relax. he does this mostly to peeve off other robloxians that may interact with you. he doesn't do this because he's jealous (he does) but mostly to tell everyone that YOU are HIS! you are his for keeping!

corny nicknames!!! sometimes you call him your goober and he calls you his little shmoopy. he is always keen on other nicknames, but shmoopy is such a heart resonator for you and him. sometimes, he says it in public and it's the only way to catch your attention.

i hope these were good enough!! i was a bit tired but otherwise, i hope you enjoyed these..!!

[yuri-is-online]

Well, since you are feeling festive and so am I, could I have request a fic with Ortho? Just doing a little holiday decorating or some other tradition with a homesick prefect? I don’t know, I just imagine Ortho to be the type to be interested in holiday traditions from another world. Thanks!

Oh hell yeah this slaps. Originally I was going to write about tree decorating but then I had a thought and I didn't want the fic to come off as me info dumping for however many words. I hope this is something like what you had in mind, and happy holidays!

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Ortho is the main focus here but the other first years are mentioned, Yuu and Ortho decide to play Santa. I would absolutely love to hear about any personal holiday traditions of yours, dear reader, as I think those are always very interesting. As always, other fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Christmas. Ortho had searched multiple websites, data banks, and even online journals to see if he could find any mention of such a word outside of the few instances he has heard it muttered by the prefect. He initially thought his searches weren't bearing fruit because Yuu pronounced it several different ways (Chrimis, Crisis, Chrysler???) but he has ultimately concluded those were likely jokes based off of their tone of voice.

That had been what finally made him ask, not even his brother liked laughing at his jokes alone.

"Oh that's one of the big winter holidays in my world." You had told him, trying to sound matter of fact but unable to hide the way your voice cracks with the strain of your homesickness. "I made the mistake of trying to remember a nursery rhyme while Grim was around and ended up telling him about Christmas stockings and now he wants one."

And now you have to explain the concept to him, but with much less pressure as Ortho listens carefully with growing excitement.

"Putting presents in socks! That's really silly but I suppose that there are some holidays here you might find really weird too huh?" Ortho can also see why Grim would be so excited about this particular tradition, a gift (in a sock or no) that has the potential to be made up entirely of candy, fruits, and other foodstuffs sounds very much like him. "So do we just need to find Grim some socks he fits in? You already have a fireplace to hang it on... or are you thinking about giving Grim coal?"

“Well-”  It had crossed your mind.  “Sometimes adults give chocolate that’s shaped like coal but that’s not really what’s bothering me.  You don’t usually use socks for this, you make these really big fake socks.  I wanted to make one for Grim, but while I was thinking about how I wanted to decorate it I sort of… thought it would be nice to make stockings for the others, y’know like Ace and Deuce and maaaybe Jack, but then I would need to explain it to them and I don’t want to do that.”

“Oh that’s easy, we just won’t.”  Ortho laughs and takes your hand to eagerly drag you towards Sam’s before you can question just what he means by “we.”   ~~~~ "Operation sock jaw is a go." Ortho mimics rubbing his hands together gleefully, his lab wear feeling deeply out of place in the unofficial official Ramshackle craft room. A small pile of carefully picked out fabrics and season appropriate accents are neatly folded at the corner of the table as you carefully trace out what you think resembles a pattern for a Christmas stocking as Ortho carefully watches.

"You have really good aesthetic tastes," you nod as you look over the drawings Ortho had provided "this one really matches Ace's clown vibes."

"I'm glad you like it!" He laughs. "I figured a harlequin pattern in Heartslabyul colors suited him perfectly! Deuce was a bit harder to figure out... I didn't just want to slap a playing card on it and call it a day. Jack was a bit easier with how often he searches for information on cacti and succulent care. Oh I can cut the cacti out of the felt if you like?"

"With scissors?" You tentatively ask, not entirely sure how your dorm would hold up if he decides to break out the lasers. But the suggestion seems to flatter Ortho rather than annoy him.

"Oh that'd be fun! I've never really had the need to use normie tools before, this will be just like..." his voice briefly trails off as he looks down at the scissors. You wonder if he is capable of zoning out, being a robot and all, but decide that isn't too far out of the realm of possibility as his next words come out in a stutter. "Hey Yuu, does this sort of feel like an anime to you?" It's not too unexpected a question for Ortho to ask, so you look down at your crafts and really try to think about an answer.

"I guess so?" You gently place the pieces you have cut for Ace's stocking down so you can look out at the snow blanketing the world outside your window. The scene isn't too different than one you might see in your world on a card. But then again- "There's a lot of tropes associated with Christmas in anime, there's an entire genre of weird rom com movies about it, so yeah I guess making crafts like this with you does sort of feel like something I would see in an anime?"

"I thought so!" Ortho happily begins to carefully cut the felt with the scissors, mimicking what he had seen you do with the little tuna fish for Grim's stocking earlier. "That makes me glad, if something is a common enough for people to fantasize about it in an anime, then it has to be really important to the people of your world. And yet no matter where I search I will never be able to find data about it in mine!"

"Doesn't that annoy you a little?" It would stress you, does stress you how familiar and yet distant Twisted Wonderland's traditions are to your own. But the smile Ortho gives you is one of such genuine excitement you feel at least a little of that stress fall away.

"It scared me at first, but then when I got my soul I realized that it meant I had a really good excuse to keep talking to you. More data is never a bad thing! You could give me and my brother ideas for a truly unique game or show, so please, tell me everything you can remember about your world. I'll make sure it's remembered." He means every word he says. It's enough to make you cry.

"Alright, but just remember you asked for it. Where to start?"

[onceonafullmoon]

Hi, could you please tell us a bit more about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus? I saw what you wrote about Tsundere/Yandere Fumus, and I was curious if you had thought of anything. I really like your writing and I hope I'm not bothering you. Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Me when I get to talk about an awful man: 😈 (also these are leaning more towards yan then tsun, so sorry about that)

Yandere Fumus x GN! Reader HCs

Tw!! Violence/torture towards reader and other characters, manipulation (guilt tripping) and non-con mentions

Well, firstly, you’re fucked. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

You’d probably meet through being affiliated with someone else, like Satanick or Taffy, rather than meeting Fumus head on.

See, he’s a bit of the asshole curious type like that, always wanting to know what his toys are amusing themselves with.

When you think about it, it's kinda like a child who only wants to play with his peers toys, but more unhinged and fucked up

Either way, despite their wishes, he’ll either stumble across you or go out of his way to visit you.

You wouldn't think much when you do meet him, he's not outwardly threatening compared like others you might have met. In fact, with the way he seems to disregard your presence enirely, like he's above you, you'd probably just think of him as some typical asshole, the only unsettling thing about him bring those piercing violet eyes of his.

Its only when you turn to see your affilates reaction of utter horror and dread that you realize something is terribly wrong.

When he leaves, you try to pry into what they're so worried about, but whether through straight dismissal (Taffy) or dancing around the topic (Satanick) neither will answer you head on.

Anyways, with Fumus's growing interest in you, you can't really afford to worry about either of them, his visits growing more frequent and that same oppressive feeling growing greater as they do.

It won't be long until you find yourself in his domain, the stench of cleaning products permeating the air.

And is that blood you see in the corner?

Your first few visits will ineviably end in screaming and crying, blood splattered on almost every surface of his office, the same loving treatment Fumus gives all his toys.

You might try to reach out to find help during this time, only to be dismissed entirely by Satanick with a helpless grin or a rather unfortunate response of "it never hurts as much the first time" from Taffy.

You could also try to escape... but running from a God is pointless, which you'll find out through bruises, or if you're particularly unlucky, broken bones.

Meanwhile, Fumus is going through somewhat of a... crisis... on his part as well.

See he only meant to play with you out of curiosity... but now... maybe its your sweet crying face, or the withering glares you send his way... there's just something about you that he can't get out of his mind.

And at first he doesn't think about it, he'd always been a bit obsessive with his toys anyways

But then he sees you talking with one of his angels, a small smile on your face, and he can't help the surge of fury that courses through him.

Both because he hates the idea of you with anyone else and because he realizes what this jealousy means for him despite his self insistance of not wanting a "relationship".

Albeit this notion of a relationship is highly onesided.

That afternoon, he's very busy with his scissors, repeatedly plunging them in and out of the poor angel's body.

And that night, he finds himself busy helping himself to your body too, albeit in a different way, despite your protests and struggles

Distantly he wishes he could take a picture of you, looking ruined for him, until he realizes he could have this sight every night if he choosed so.

Luckily for everyone else, and unfortunately for you, at the discovery of his newfound "feelings", he spends more time tormenting you.

Albeit this time his methods are more... pleasureable than his previous ones, though you might find that worse than being tortured based on how you see it.

Its simple enough to keep you from leaving him consequently, even without him having to exert his power.

Just a simple, playful, remark about how lonely he'd be if you left, that he'd have to subsitute you with his precious little angels, and suddenly you're hesitating on carrying out that escape plan.

Not that it would have worked anyways mind you... perhaps next him he catches wind of a new plan he'll just invite you to watch him have fun with Taffy.

In all, attracting Fumus is the worst mistake you could have unknowingly commited, and now you have to deal with the torture of being damned to a god.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

sending in my first ask woot woot 🥳

okok so since rereading your aeon pregnancy au fic i can't help but think about the twins all grown up living their best lives with the coolest aeon parents until we get to their preteen/teenage years.

annnnnnnd i leave you with this ask: do you have any hcs about soft twin going through a little rebellious phase when she's older??? 👀

(yes yes this ask is for soft twin porque ella es preciosa, and we need more hcs for soft twin!!!)

idk why but i keep leaning towards soft twin acting out after her classmates made her feel a certain way for not being ‘cool enough’ like her sis. maybe soft twin isn't used to hearing those comments about her when she's so used to being praised as a good kid compared to her sis (not that she would ever listen to those praises or agree w/anyone who talks bad about her fam >:(

and now that she’s older, soft twin suddenly gets the complete opposite experience from fighty twin at school.

maybe the comments from her peers make soft twin have a mini identity crisis for being a 'goody two-shoes'? maybe she tries smth out of character partly to prove them wrong, partly to explore other sides of her personality she never really got to explore as a kid?

ANYWAYS what do you think would be soft twin's first 'rebellious act'? would fighty twin be involved somehow? how would soft twin feel after it happens? would she try smth like it again? how would Ada and Leon react to all of this???

dis for you hehe

ALSO I SWEAR YOU HAVE SENT ME ONE BEFORE but

yayayya

OMG A REREAD i should probably do that myself lol find more spelling and grammar errors i've left in there by accident sjkfbskjfksbf

YES YES I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS but since nothing is canon in my head, i just have THEORIES. AEON TWINS THEORIES.

YES THERE ISN'T ENOUGH LOVE FOR SOFT TWIN i also have wonder if people already know which is which lol

i like to think she has a small one, mostly in her early teens. probably earlier than fighty twin has a rebellious phase. but i haven't really thought about what she would fight about lol

AH YES YES i see what you mean. i do think they're both very smart. i mean they have leon and ada as their parents, you KNOW they're gonna be all types of smart. i do think that soft twin can be a lil clumsy sometimes. she's shy and quiet and just generally deemed the awkward one since she's not as open to being extroverted like fighty twin

I FEEL LIKE even if she were to rebel.. she would do it in the way that like. introverted kids do. either something extreme like a overt personality change... OR she just runs and hides.

i can see her finding herself just needing to escape. but ofc ada finds her. she doesn't make herself known right away but allows leon to talk to her. i do think that soft twin is a daddy's girl and although she loves ada. she just needs to softness of leon when she needs comfort. with ada, she does get some but sometimes she needs the lovely dovey kind. almost smothering lol

i don't see ada being overbearing or smothering her

SORRY MY THOUGHTS ARE EVERYWHERE AND IM NOT PROOFREADING THIS LOL

i can DEF SEE her chopping her hair short. i like to think that ada keeps the girls hair long since she sees it as a privilege that she never had. something something about safety but also just being allowed to be a girls girl lol. soft twin probably has a really big attachment to her long hair and ends up just chopping it all off at some point

she regrets it and spends a few years growing it back out lol

I DUNNO I HAVE ALOT OF THOUGHTS STILL

[maikissed]

little dove

Richarlison x reader

part 2 for i've got my eye on you part 1 is here

It's pretty long but i love to get into them detailssss. I kinda hate it and I kinda love it, idk, hope you'll enjoy it 🫶🏼 Sorry for any typos. warnings: some smut (+18)

To say that you were nervous about meeting Richarlison after that memorable party would be an understatement. You almost told him to piss off just because you were terrified of the effect he had on you that night. It all hit you hard after you sobered up, when you remembered how easily he could make you hot and bothered. And you were reminiscing how you nearly gave in to the needs of your body, completety turning off the common sense, and dragged him to a private space to have your way with him. It might have been your drunk state, but you’ve never acted this way. This wasn’t a good sign. And you were going mental. To be honest, you didn’t expect that he’ll reach out to you.

Nevertheless you agreed to meet with him. But you did not call it a date.

It’s been a month since you've started seeing each other and you truthfully enjoyed the time you’ve been spending together. You and Sheira even attented one of his matches and you didn’t expect that a football game could be so exciting as you were cheering and analysing everything that was happening on the pitch. Richarlison even waved at you at the end of the match and you waved back feeling overjoyed.

“So, you’re like a wag now?” Sheira asked when you were leaving the stands.

“Stop talking” you send her a disapproving look.

“You’re mean, you know that?” she laughed at your reaction.

She will never stop teasing you about it.

Richarlison was driving you home after you went to the movies together and an unexpected rush of confidence made you ask him if he’d like to come in. As you were quite a private person you felt a little nervous about intiving him to your little sanctuary but you were eager to spend some more time with this boy.

 “I think it was really sad in it’s simplicity. A shattering picture of existencial crisis and the futility of tommorow” you reffered to the movie you've watched while opening the door to your apartment.

“Yeah, it was really moving” he commented following you in.

“You didn’t like it” you smiled at him observing his reaction.

“No, it’s not like that, it’s just not my type of cinema. But it was nice to watch something different”

“Alright then” you nodded unconvinced but let the subject go “Would you like something to drink? I can make you my famous sweet tea” you asked entering the kitchen.

You felt yourself becoming nervous again, it was the first time of you two being alone since that party and it made you panic inside a bit.

“Sure” he answered taking a look around your little salon “You have a lot of paintings. Who made them?”

“I did”

“Oh, so you’re an artist?” he gave you an impressed look and you smiled while placing the cups on the kitches island.

“Kind of. I paint in my free time just to clear my head. They’re just for me though, it’s not like I’m a professional”

“It’s really good, you’re talented. I like this one” he pointed to a painting of a woman floating in deep ocean waters surrounded by the breaking through rays of the sun.

You made that one during a very specific time in your life and you were very devoted to it so your heart warmed up a little hearing words of appreciation from him.

“Thank you, I think this picture had been created the longest”

He sat down on the sofa placed right infront of the small kitchen so he was facing you.

“I almost failed my art class in school once” he murmured scratching his head.

“What? How?” you laughed in disbelief catching sight of his kinda embarrased appearance.

“My uncle was the teacher and I guess I felt too comfortable” he laughed with you.

“Wow” you shook your head still laughing under your breath “To fail an art class in school is quite a feat”

“Yeah, I was a horrible student”

You focused on making the tea and the room went silent for a few seconds. You suddenly felt his heavy gaze on you and looked up meeting his dark piercing gaze from across the room. You smiled shyly feeling your limbs go rigid.

“Quit looking at me like that, Richarlison”

“Like what?” he smirked smugly and his eyes lit up.

“Like you’re looking right now” you countered biting your lip.

“I’m just looking y/n” he shrugged toying with you and you rolled you eyes taking the tea cups and approached the place he sat at to place them on a coffee table.

You then sat on a fotel on the other side and noticed an amused expression forming on his face.

“What?”

“You’re just sitting so far” he murmured smirking at you and your heart skipped a beat.

You moved to sit on the other end of the sofa with one of your legs bent at the knee to face him comfortably.

“Am I making you nervous y/n?” you heard him say lowly and you almost choked on your tea.

Of course he was fucking making you nervous right now. You were trying to keep your distance to not loose your mind in his pressence. But it was immensely difficult, especially when he was looking at you with those big eyes. You wanted him so badly that it scared you. But you took the challenge and moved closer to him, your knee almost touching his thigh.

“You’re so full of yourself, Richarlison” you joked sneeringly and put the tea back at the table.

He laughed putting his arm on the back of the sofa not leaving his eyes off your form.

“Just admit it”

Your eyes widened in disbelief of his teasing. Oh, if he won’t stop right now you’re going to strike him.

“You are not making me nervous” you protested feeling your cheeks heating up.

You were trying to keep your cool to not feed his already huge ego further but your body language was showing off completely different signs. You felt tense and the beating of your heart quickened sharply, shallowing your breath. The least you could do was not breaking the eye contact. You had to quit acting all shy to break this little entertainment of his.

“Then come closer” he dared quietly and you stiffened.

You were already sitting right next to each other, your legs almost touching. You considered your next move and swallowed hard. Then you just simply rised up, placing your leg on the other side of his body and sat on his thighs suprising yourself by your sudden surge of confidence. The material of your short tennis skirt rised up slighty and there was no turning back now. A wave of heat flooded your body.

“Is that better?” you asked in a soft tone.

Richarlison placed his hands gently on your hips and slowly moved you closer, your pelvises touched and you involuntarily placed your palms on his chest, feeling startled. Butterflies erupted in your tummy and you exhaled sharply. And you were loosing your mind.

“Now it’s better” he murmured studying your face intensively “Is it making you uncomfortable?” he asked trying to make sure that you were okay with it or to just play with you some more.

“No” you denied trying to not go crazy over the feeling of the sharp material of his pants in contact with your bare inner thighs.

Just a few thin layers of clothes were separating you from him. Your lids started to feel heavy when you focused on a feeling of arousal slowly building inside of you. You could feel a wet patch forming in your panties and you swallowed back a whimper focusing your gaze on your hands still placed on his chest. When you looked up you noticed him still focused on your face, as if drinking in your little reactions, no doubt visible on your expression. And then, slowly, he looked down at the place where your bodies touched. Under your palms you could feel him intake a big breath and the excitation made you finally act up. You took your hands off his body to place them on top of his hands that were still gripping your hips lightly and rolled your hips back and then forward, rutting against him. The sensation felt like a shot of electricity piercing your body and so you moved again. His grip on you tightened and you noticed his adam’s apple bobbed slowly. Your moves where tantalizingly slow and you were loosing yourself in this intimate moment. When you connected your pelvises once more you could feel hardness forming in his pants and when it slid right between your labia a soft moan escaped your mouth uncontrollably. It made you quicken up your pace. Richarlison grunted throwing his head back, his brows furrowed as he swallowed hard. Every move you made elicited another soft high moan from you and your mind was racing, your hands slightly shaking as the pleasure kept taking control of your body.

“Stop or I’m gonna come in my pants” his voice came off raspy and his eyes darkened as he took in the look on your face, delighted by the sound of your little moans.

He grabbed your waist and lifted you up to break the contact. You whined in protest.

“Are you trying to make a mess, y/n?” he teased granting you a cheeky smile.

You desperatly wanted to kiss him now but he had other ideas.

“Lay down on the carpet” he instructed trying to get you off him.

You shot him a perplexed look but did as he said. He joined you shortly after, towering over you, looking deeply in your eyes and hummed satisfied with your eager state. You leaned into his touch when he grabbed your cheek delicately. Keeping the eye contact you brought your lips to his thumb and slowly, very slowly, sucked it inside your mouth.

“Fuck” he cursed focusing on your action and you purred closing your eyes.

Oh, you wanted him to devour you. It was magical to finally have him so close, but it was not close enough. Your wanton body started to writhe underneath him waiting for more, desiring more.

Then he took his finger off your mouth and closed the distance to finally kiss you. You moaned into his mouth the moment your lips touched, feeling your stomach tighten, and you thrown your hands over his neck trying to pull him as close as you could. His kiss felt so heavenly it made your heart squish. His fingers slowly traced a line down your throat and stopped at the first button of your shirt. After undoing the last button he pushed aways the layers of the garment away to expose your delicate lacy bra and you grasped his bicep when his gentle fingers started to trace patterns over your bare stomach. He placed a kiss near your belly button and you jumped slightly feeling overwhelmed by his caress.

“Relax, baby” he murmured and his hot breath fanned over your skin.

“Mhm” you grunted with your eyes closed.

Then he moved to unzip your skirt and after taking the garment off you heard him hum in amusement.

“So that’s the famous tattoo” he pointed stroking a little dove tattoo placed next to your hip bone with his thumb “It’s a dove”

You smiled widely at him and a giggle escaped your lips when the realisation of what it meant hit you. You went to get it made shortly after you turned 18 and it was the only tattoo that you had.

“Well, lucky you” you said cheekily before he bend down to place a soft kiss on it.

Shortly after he took off your thong exposing your dripping cunt to his hungered sight and he groaned noticing how aroused and ready for him you were. You exhaled hard in anticipation and looked down the moment you felt his breath on your inner thigh. He maintained the eye contact slowly going lower. The sight of him going down on you made you feel hazy and your legs tried to squish together on reflex but he was quicker, grasping your thighs; keeping you open widely for him. The moment his breath hit your core your head fell back down on the carpet and your hips bucked up desperate for him to finally do something. He put his palm on your stomach to keep you down and placed a butterfly kiss on your labia. You cried out quietly as a sudden wave of tingles spread over your limbs, reaching even your fingertips.

He’s going to drive you mad, that’s for sure.

Richarlison started to stroke your core with his tongue and your moans intensified, your back arched off the floor and you brought your hands to his head trying to keep him as close as you could to fulfill your needs. You were at his mercy, writhing and whimpering, his name falling off your lips like a prayer. He groaned aroused by the way your body was responding to the pleasure he was giving you and you cried out loudly as you felt the vibrations fondle your sweet spot. He then lapped at yout cunt roughly and your whole body jolted making you almost choke on your moan. Your muscles tightened and your sight went blank as you came all over his face abruptly, feeling your walls pulsating with waves of your orgasm. You were breathing fast and your legs were shaking and you blinked slowly to bring back your focus. Richarlison raised his head with that beautiful glint in his eyes and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, returning back up to you. You bit your lip mesmerized by the look of his swollen lips and cheeks covered in a light rosy pink color.  

“How are you feeling?” he asked kissing your collarbones as you were still trying to calm your body.

“Amazing, thank you” you answered quietly grinning happily.

“You’re welcome” he chuckled warmly and you brought his head down by placing your hand on his neck to connect your lips in a sweet and long kiss.

You couldn’t get enough of each other, being so enraptured in one another and so astonishingly horny that you’ve spent the whole night fucking in your bed, then in the shower and then even on the kitchen counter as you went to make something to eat. Let’s just say that you haven’t any idea that you could have so many orgasms in one night.

_

why do i feel like it's shitty oh god and i’m still laughing at this dove idea

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Jason has an identity crisis, tries to fuck his way out of all his feelings and fails miserably.

Part 1 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

“Be kind to the jaded souls, the ones with jagged edges and bones weary and crumbling. Be gentle with them not because you may break them to pieces with one wrong touch, not because you may cut yourself on their serrated fingers, but because the world has never known to be gentle with them. Because they have never known to be gentle with themselves.”

- don’t you think they’ve suffered enough? (j.p.)

It’s easy to slip away from that warehouse in the chaos of his own trap springing, leaving the hero and his newest child soldier with nothing but his laughter ringing in their ears. For all of Batman’s tech, his strength, his mind, there’s no way for a living and breathing man to track a phantom that doesn’t want to be found. Dead men tell no tales and all that.

(Oh, but you do.)

That part hadn’t been planned, but he’s more than a little smug about handling it as smoothly as he did. Even unprepared, there was just too much that he knew about Bruce and wasn’t that just unsettling to old Batsie?

(You wanted him to know you, didn’t you? Wanted him to see past the mask.)

(Shut up, it’s not time.)

A wrench like Bruce had a certain amount of unpredictability, that was true. Humans usually did. But to fucking show up personally for a seemingly small potatoes villain like him and not just send that little shit of a replacement Robin like he’d been anticipating… you’ve changed your game a bit, huh old man? No, he’s apparently now made just enough of a name for himself that the Bat himself wanted to talk. At least the talking part hadn't changed. Same as always, it was about the smokescreen, the show. The act of making Bruce feel better about himself, like he had tried to deescalate the situation but any violence that resulted was always someone else’s fault. Never his. They all forced his hand, you see?

(Like you’re trying to now.)

What a fucking joke , like the old man would ever say something worth hearing. Trying to be reasonable, through heavy handed threats of grievous bodily harm, how the fuck did I ever go along with that? Being a child was only so much of an excuse. He’d been old enough then to understand the words that were being thrown about, he’d just been too caught up in being the Robin to Batman that he hadn’t cared about the meanings like he does now. Being on the receiving end makes him look more closely at this warped funhouse mirror that’s become his… life? Unlife? 

Whatever. The specifics of his… situation … are too complicated to parse through his feelings on those right now. Not when all he wants to do is take his now warm and living fist and slam it into Bruce’s face for having the fucking nerve to bring another child into this, like Jason meant nothing. Just the first body in a God knows how long of a line of them to come. Some kind of demented conga line of dead birds; maybe he’s more like the Joker than he wants to think he is and that thought makes him snort a bitter huff of amusement under his breath then grimace at the ache in his ribs. 

(He’s a vampire bat, maybe, they feed on birds.)

(Fuck.)

That’s a whole other can of worms that he is not looking into right now. Bad enough his carcass was replaced so easily. Even worse if it was planned.

If he goes down that line of thought, he might light this whole city on fire and leave Bruce screaming in the ashes, bleeding out from a thousand cuts. 

No, no, no, he’s got a plan already and that’s bleeding this city dry and watching Bruce try to desperately revive its picked over cadaver the way he never tried to revive Jason’s before he gives the old shit the mercy of a bullet-

(Maybe you’re the vampire.)

-just because that’s justice . And that’s all the Batman’s after, right? All he’s ever been after, if all the lines he fed to his Robins-

(His food-)

-could be believed. 

(Chewed you up and spit you in the ground, he’ll do it again and again-)

His fist raps the alley wall a few times, enough to sting and drive back the looming cloud that threatens to swirl around and become a living typhoon. There’ll be blood under his gloves from how tight he’s clenched his fist, splitting open old wounds, but that’s fine. What’s blood loss going to do? Kill him? He’s no stranger to handling a bruise or a hundred, that’s par for the course in his life now. Has been for years. A couple cracked ribs and some bloody knuckles are not going to slow him down. 

No, what really fucking stings is whatever is left in that cavity inside his chest, the hole that he used to think was patched when Bruce brought him into that huge house, when Alfred smiled and snuck him cookies. 

(That was the fucking dream, wasn’t it? Warm house, warm food, then you get the shit beat out of you to go fight crime.)

Turnabout is fair play and all that nonsense.

The side of his fist finds that same brick wall but he doesn’t smash into it, just rests his gloved knuckles against the abrasive surface. No use breaking his hand for a momentary fit of rage, it won’t help anything and he needs to keep his head on straight. There’s a plan here and he hasn’t gotten this far by losing his cool. It’s just a grounding point that he presses against, one that won’t crumble no matter how hard he shoves. It’s exactly what he needs because God knows there isn’t a person he can take this out on-

(Yes there is.)

(Shut up.) 

But his body turns towards his magnetic north anyways and he doesn’t stop it. It was a token protest anyways. Truth will out and all that bullshit. Well, Batman didn’t get the truth tonight but someone else will. Someone else will look this horrid amalgamation in the eye and either run or treat him just as gingerly as Talia did. Like the weapon he’d spent so long honing himself to be, the monster he’d welcomed into that place that-

That still hurts. It still hurts, in that cavity inside. The part he never thought had a chance in hell of crawling out of that hole and back into his sad sack of a meat suit. Jason Todd went into the ground a whole boy, the Red Hood emerged a warped reimagining of that little corpse, grown strong and tough and-

(And you failed.)

One day, he’d finish that fucking clown. One day, he’d dig the bastard a pit to Hell next to what used to be Jason Todd’s grave, but first, he had a bigger score to settle. In the end, in the here and now, this wasn’t about the Joker or even about Jason fucking dying. It was about Tim goddamn Drake.

Because what had changed, really? What changed? Nothing. He’s died and come back, he’s been buried and dug himself out with his fucking belt buckle and nothing changed. Not even Robin changed. Tim Drake is just another child following Bruce, spouting his words, punching the people Bruce points at and all of them, both of us, were just replacements for Dick who was a replacement for the family Bruce lost. And none of them ever lived up to it, I died trying to be that and still failed to do that right-

It’s as easy as breathing, though that’s a little painful right now, slipping up the wire-frame fire escape in the darkness. Never change, Gotham, never change. A last sweeping look over the city confirms that he’s alone. Or as alone as a log ever gets in a stacked fire pit, waiting for a match to drop. Or maybe this city’s already smoldering and he’s trying to frantically pour water on it.

(If water is gasoline maybe. Then you’d be God.)

(Shut. Up.)

His ribs ache as he slips into her apartment through a once locking window, confident no one is following him, not even the little shit in a stolen suit who’d tried so hard to get the drop on him. But the kid is just that, still a kid. Jason’s been in the game for a long time, not even Bruce knows how far his reach in Gotham goes now. This isn’t Batman’s city anymore, it’s Red Hood’s. It’s his. Bruce may fight crime, but Jason grew up embedded in it. He knows it in a way Bruce and his silver spoon never will, no matter how he studies its occupants. Because he isn’t one of them like Jason is. To a grown gutter urchin, these streets are home, their busted lights a balm to his soul, the screams of brakes and people alike a familiar lullaby. Even the muted throbbing in his face is familiar, almost a comfort of home. It’s certainly not the worst hit he’s ever taken, even discounting the obvious comparison.

Her bedroom is empty like he knew it would be. It’s Friday, she doesn’t work tomorrow and it’s not even that late. Barely past eleven. Really, he’s impressed with himself, taking an early night off. His ribs will hurt like a bitch tomorrow and his cheek might be fractured from the stupid kid’s pretty solid punch before he split, but the mask did it’s job, taking most of what might have otherwise knocked him down. And he’d left the Bat and his replacement-

(God damn you, did I ever mean anything to you besides being the means to your end?)

-frazzled and afraid. A few more steps in this grand plan and the truth would come out, the web he’d been weaving around The World’s Greatest Detective would close and there would be no way out. Either Bruce would pull the trigger, or Jason would. If you pull it old man, it might not stick. Is that what you want?  

At this point he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, his imaginary Bruce or himself.

Where is she? He needs a distraction from these swirling thoughts, a way out of the growing labyrinth in his head. She’s always been that since he found her, a light in the dark, a soothing balm over an open wound. She’s not part of this world, with its shrouds and lies and agendas, she’s just a girl living her life and unfortunate enough to have found the devil on her doorstep. 

Crazy enough to have let him in, despite all the warning signs.

The whisper soft humming from the dark abyss beyond the doorway echoes in his ears like a siren song, alerting him to her location and he smiles under the mask. Drawing him into her embrace again, the only comfort he had that didn’t come from watching the life leave someone’s eyes. The only warmth he felt that didn’t involve him being elbow deep in someone’s chest cavity to feel it, didn’t need a slit artery or have a-

(bomb as my pyre, feeling flesh melt, unable to move, unable to scream-)

-match burning down to his fingertips just to feel something other than apathy and bone melting rage. 

He watches her from the doorway, silent and shadowed. There’s no moon tonight, no star bright enough to turn on him and expose his presence or even grace him with a shadow of his own. No streetlights. She’s an office worker, not a millionaire, so she’s not in the part of the city where they keep replacing those when they inevitably get shot out. But the shirt she’s wearing is light grey, mine, she’s wearing my… Jason’s shirt, and the walking shell of Jason Todd isn’t the one who watches it float around the room like a ghost, flickering at the hem in time with the movement of her legs, the back vanishing and reappearing in time with the swinging of her loose braid.

Blue light washes over her face, staining her lips as she clicks on the kettle. It takes every ounce of his considerable self control not to stalk over, not to press his fingers, mouth, entire being against those lips to make sure they’re warm with life and breath, not washed out and cold like a corpse. He’s seen too many, he’s made even more-

(you’ve been one too, don’t you remember what it was like trying to move those stiff limbs? It took you hours to feel again, trapped in that box-)

-and if there is one certainty in life it’s that if she keeps welcoming into her sanctuary, she’ll be another one to add to the list of his sins. His hands aren’t clean and she isn’t safe. This was a mistake, he should not have come here, he should have done what he usually does. Rampage around another supervillain or five for old times sake. Grit his teeth and put his shoulder back to the grindstone to burrow his way deeper into Gotham’s underworld, chiseling away at the Batman’s iron grip until he replaces it with his titanium one instead. But no, he’s an idiot . So, he’s here, in her apartment in the dead of night, uninvited.

Jason Todd, the shy and uncomfortable man she met at a fun little nightclub, is not watching her. 

The Red Hood, Gotham’s latest war dog, is.

(Is he?) 

Sometimes, he wonders if there’s a difference anymore but it doesn’t matter right now. Not when they both want her. Because they’re both me but who the fuck is that anymore? Jason’s dead, the Red Hood is Joker’s, what am I?

She notices him, of course she does. She’s too perceptive not too. Sometimes, he wonders what happened to make her that way, wants to ask about the small, oddly scattered scars like knife wounds- 

(too similar to yours) 

-that dot her body, but she doesn’t ask about his disappearances, his odd hours, the blood and death that have burrowed so deep into him that they’re practically lovers, so he keeps his mouth shut. Her secrets are her own, God knows he has plenty. Whatever has happened to her, it’s tuned her into the smallest shifts in her carefully created atmosphere, her protective bubble, her sanctuary. She notices him and there’s no telling what gave him away. The ragged breathing behind his mask, the soft creak of leather when his fists clenched, some other presence that he can feel clinging to him like a second skin and dripping from his lips like blood as he pants- 

It’s a phantom, given life by his every exhale, moving in a disjointed and phony copy of his own limbs, but it’s his and his alone. Rage made manifest, always closer on nights like these, ones where the acrid scents of smoke and gunpowder and iron cling to him even after a shower, like it's an expensive cologne and he wonders how she hasn’t guessed the truth. Or maybe she has. She’s smart, too smart, too perceptive not to. 

(Then why doesn’t she run from me?)

Robin would have been good for her to find. Even an older, jaded, more independent Robin like Dick would have been better. But no, she’d picked the worst possible one, the skeletal remains of a bird too young to fly before it was launched from the nest to fall, to struggle, to die. There was no feasible way she could have known, sidling up to him and flashing him that smile, ignoring every warning sign with the single minded determination of a self-destructive spiral, but shouldn’t she have seen? Seen the blood under his fingernails-

(they’re clean, you wear gloves)

-seen the fangs in his mouth-

(they’re normal teeth)

-heard the growl in his voice that screamed run, run, run-  

(Why didn’t you run?)

No, she’d looked into the lion’s mouth and smiled without fear, run delicate fingers through his mane, put her number in his phone and yanked him into her addictive embrace. She should have found Robin and maybe she’d find that little brat one day but right now she has a nightmare made flesh in her kitchen.

His hand flexes, wrapped around the butt of the gun holstered on his thigh like it’s a child’s comfort toy, not a deadly mechanism of destruction that he could so easily turn on her. Never, I never will . If a bullet kills her, it won’t be his, even if it’s because of him the trigger is pulled. Small comforts. The other fist clenches harder at the bitter thought, like the pressure will stop him from doing something even stupider than standing here. Like he can stop himself from reaching out, a demon to an angel, falling further over his abyss of damnation to reach her divine light.

So she notices. So she turns, so she sees. Sees him, towering in the shadows like he wants to melt into them. Sees the red covering his jaw and mouth and nose and cheeks, the black covering his eyes, the hood above all that. Sees the kevlar, the weapons, the gloves, the rage pulsing from his skin like a living being. Sees the truth of the man she’s been letting into her life and into her bed, a reaper come to take his due, coming here was a mistake-

He sees the truth on her face, the flicker of comprehension and complex emotion that cannot be anything but fear . Hears it, in the way her breath catches on an inhale that sounds like a gunshot between them, her to him, echoing over the actual gunshots outside. This was a mistake, you’ve fucked up-

Then, she’s slowly stepping toward him, like he’s an animal she’s trying not to spook. You’ve fucked up, Todd . This nice, kind, normal girl who was somehow able to see whatever shell of Jason was left under all of his Red Hood bravado, now being confronted with the truth that they are one in the same and something else entirely and fuck, he’s just fucked this whole thing up, isn’t that what you wanted? You knew she would never be safe-

If she runs, he won’t blame her even one bit. He’ll let her go, even though she threatens his whole plan because she knows now. But the memories of her fingers twisted with his as she dragged Jason Todd along a park path, joy in her eyes and laughter on her lips even when he stumbled… He’ll let her go. His hands are weapons that Bruce shaped long ago, people always choose to avoid him instead of crossing his path but she’s headstrong in her lack of fear. He’s a man to her, nothing more, and even if she runs from the devil, he’ll let her escape this one time just for that kindness.

She doesn’t run.

She also doesn’t take his hand.

She doesn’t touch him at all.

No, Anna kneels in front of him, eyes not wavering from his face even as her mouth is level with his groin. Jason doesn’t dare breathe, what the fuck is she doing and she doesn’t break eye contact as she opens her mouth and presses a filthy kiss to the front of his pants, tongue dragging up his inseam to mouth at his belt buckle as she looks up at him and blinks once, a question. 

There’s a breathless beat where she stares up at him and Jason does his best to play off his surprise as stretching the moment like he’s considering her offer, like he wouldn’t die a thousand deaths to take her up on it.

(She didn’t run. Take what you can get.)

The syrup slow moment passes as he follows her desire into whatever abyss this is. This is why he came here, to forget. And it’s so, so easy to forget when she’s smiling at him. 

Anything else can come later. 

—

He wakes up the next morning sore . Both from the strain of fighting those who he doesn’t want to fucking think about right now and the intensity of his worst, or maybe smartest, spur of the moment decision that followed. 

“Shit,” he breathes, watching his breath puff out in the chilly air. Her heat isn’t working again, fucking cheap-ass landlord . He rolls onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to stop the assault of the full daytime outside, taking a deep breath. 

Last night was a line that he crossed at full fucking sprint, he should not have come here in full Red Hood costume after a confrontation with Batman and his replacement-  

Jason takes a slow, calming breath. Rage and panic won’t help anything, it’ll just cloud his judgment. And he’s already clouded enough because he came here last night instead of running to ground in a safe house like he absolutely should have . It doesn’t matter that he lost any potential of a tail, that he was clear of trackers, he had promised himself that first night that he would not get Anna mixed up in this. She’s a good, nice girl and has no business being close to him but he’s fucking pathetic and she cares about him and he’s drawn to her sweetness like a moth to flame. Knowing it’s going to burn him but doing it anyway. 

There’s a part of him that knows she’s known something this whole time. He’s subtle but she’s smart. And now he’s blown the whole charade, breaking into her apartment at ass o’clock at night in full Red Hood regalia… god damn it, Todd. One person who cared about whatever’s left of you . It was a mistake, she’ll see that in the light of day. The bravery the dark gave her will fade. She’s a practical woman, she’ll know it’s too dangerous to let him stay.

But he’s a grown ass man who has to face the music he wrote, he can’t wallow in her bed forever. All his clothes, and his fucking mask God damn it all, are strewn in the other rooms. His dick twitches at the memory and he hates himself a little, mind-blowing sex does not make what you did okay, own up to it and face her like a man. So he takes a deep breath, pulls his arm away from his face and looks at the empty side of the bed. She’s probably been up for a while now. Rises with the sun and doesn’t even think of stopping her movements until after it sinks. Maybe she’ll give me a secret for a secret?

But that’s a hypocrite talking. Just because he busted into her apartment and basically handed her his head on a silver platter does not mean she’s going to do the same. And if she came to hide out in Gotham of all places…

If he digs, it won’t be hard to find out. But where will he be then? What good would it do? No, this is fine. 

She’s Anna, that’s all that matters. 

He’s… someone, but in her bed and in her life, he feels a bit closer to human. Maybe not Jason Todd, maybe never again, but… closer to the dream of it that almost feels like a memory on the good days.

He sighs, then stands up, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his jaw, mumbling to himself about needing to shave, then goes over to ‘his’ drawer in her dresser, the one where she keeps all the clothes she’s stolen from him over the months they’ve been… whatever they are. Whatever you can be when you’ve been lying to her, you bastard. Can’t be a relationship, that’s for fucking sure. 

Maybe it can be.

Fed up with his own internal monologue, the very thing he came here to escape, he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and yanks them on, then runs a hand through his hair and looks in the mirror. Tired, he looks tired. Bruises on his ribs and scrapes on his arms, the beginnings of a shiner on one cheekbone from the little prick, a few hickeys scattered along his throat and collarbones. Stop stalling, he glares at his own reflection, then turns on his heel and stalks towards the bedroom door, opening it and stepping into the apartment before he loses what little nerve he has left. The King of Gotham, brought to his knees by a slip of a girl whose smile could melt ice in a snowstorm. Christ, Todd, what’ve you come to?

She’s in the kitchen again, her kettle heating up for morning tea. His heart aches as he leans in the doorway, folding his arms and watching the way his shirt rides up her thighs as she walks, a slight hitch in her step, the way her braid can’t cover all the marks he left on her throat last night, the way she stirs honey into her tea, a sure sign that her throat is raw from- He breathes through his nose to banish the image before he pops a completely inappropriate boner.

Instead he refocuses on how the sunlight catches the colors in her lovely hair, highlighting the lighter brown streaks hidden away in the dark color and showing that it is, in fact, brown and not black. A deep chocolate color that makes him think of syrup or rich, dark wood of expensive furniture that no one wants to ruin. She’s beautiful, humming to herself and smiling as she takes a sip of this still-too-hot tea like she always does, hissing a bit but then making a small noise of satisfaction that it’s just right. Taking the tea bag out and disposing of it, turning around with a bright smile and- 

“Hey,” she says, still smiling, eyes still shining and crinkling in the corners in genuine delight, her voice a little raspy, “morning sleepyhead.” 

“Morning,” he rumbles out, arms still crossed, waiting for her to tell him to get the hell out before he drags her into his complicated mess of a life- 

She holds out a hand, sipping her tea again. “Come’ere.” 

He stares at the extended hand, glances over to the open area where her living room is. He sees his Red Hood suit, carefully folded and placed on the coffee table, his mask resting on top. Bold and open in the broad daylight, not hidden away or uncomfortably left untouched. Cared for. 

He looks back at her and her open smile, her quiet, understanding eyes, still crinkled at the edges, happy. Slowly, he straightens, unfolds his arms, waits for her hand to draw away, for her to flinch. 

She doesn’t. He takes her hand and steps into her sunlight with a smile, with something in his chest that might be the memory of hope.

(Neither of them see their shadows lurking in the corners, looming larger than them, just as entwined. How hers looms over his in the bright rays they bask in, the darkness swallowing the sun. Just as hungry.

He may be the Red Hood, but Silena is a wolf.)

[thepowerisyouth]

Eh mental health is annoying. Buying & cooking cheap low-FODMAP diet is annoying. My best top note for now is I'm using this blog to practice writing. I need more practice in it. I only know business, accounting & economics stuff. Its stupid stuff. Theres too much actual fraud everywhere that its annoying

Also I use mobile so formatting sucks cause Nvidia GPUs, or Arch dont like tumblr site. Or tumblr site dont like tumbkr site

Also also I 100,000% support all my fellow ones-and-zeros and their identity. Everyone is welcome here.

Except transphobes/zionist/long list of others but you get it. I'll help harrass any of those types endlessly if someone wants to tag me, and bring me in on an argument like that friend you call for backup with fights

Im unhinged so who's to say exactly what will end up here but this is also a completely public blog to me friends, family, hell, even acquaintances i dont give a fuc.

Blog should be expected to be roughly as child-friendly as simpsons or bobs burgers. But also boring like a civics/economics lesson sometimes. Yay

--------

I (and my husband) am ex mormon. Its a weird thing. Look into it if you havent recently. Realllllyyyy look into. Takes time to figure it all out in this fuckin fucked up world.

I just moved a year ago. Didnt watch the US stock market as much as I normally do. Had my first snowstorm 10 weeks ago, that was.. fun to handle while ill prepared. About 6 weeks ago I was hopping back on the market and notice its a huge tech bubble about to pop and all the conditions Ive been warned about my whole career imply this is not good. Just took a little more thinking & digging and I'm a little too confident to stop talking about it now.

(Oh I'm also care-free as fuc so I dont really read or desire to change past posts more than lil-nitpicks. More informative for the reader & myself-in-the-future-reading that way)

And I'm not kidding I do love feedback & questions. Its a very public blog tho so I get that part for sure.

If you search "life story" in my tags I had that pinned for a min Im just moving shit around rn

Being poor sucks. Will write more on that later.

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

First of all-- the exact timeline of an "economic shock" is literal insanity. Dont worry about the exact timing of any of this-- just know its doomed to happen soon.

Here are some effects I predict of this upcoming economic downturn

If anyone comes across any sources for these events that support my arguments please feel free to add in comments, reblogs, etc.

This concise list is mainly for my own reference, but it would be great to add to it if any one has something to add!

0.5. US Stock market collapse-- I have no desire to try and predict this one exactly. Too many conspiracies are actually correct about this big guy. Lets just say 7 US Tech stocks are worth 25% of the entire worlds market, roughly. "Too big to fail"-- I believe is the phrase

1. Corporate (slightly later will be residential by extension) real estate crisis: currently way too overvalued. Most of the houses, land, & urban corporate property we see could stand to decrease by about 60-90% from its current price.

2. Bankruptcy crisis: similar to the after-effects of the 70s inflation-- we can expect to see a huge wave of bankruptcies affecting a variety of business: from the micro-self employed; to the small business with leased buildings; to the largest corporations who commit massive accounting fraud & hope to escape accountability in time

3. Bank runs-- there is an extremely high overreliance on the Federal Reserve, who does not have good control over this situation. Once it becomes clear that there is a crisis (we call this a catalyst event)-- bank runs for physical cash are a surety. Hard to say how long a crisis like this might last. I should ask my siblings who lived near the SVB bank crisis hotspot (but those were rich fucks they do their "bank runs" over the phone)

3.5. Global currency collapse, which takes effect in every single local, state, & national economy at slightly different times. This means prices lower. Much lower. But takes time

4. Whatever the fuck the geopolitics is gonna do???. Its weird. You got Russia wanting to invade Europe? (Look at global economic forum 2024) Trump wants to let them. Biden wants to be an establishment corporate ass. North Korea has changed its #1 public enemy to South Korea (dont remember my source but it was a couple months ago). USA is stationing more troops in Taiwan, but probably only because of semiconductor technology?

The scope of our global financial woes are larger than can be explained in any of our lifetimes. Its much, much closer to pre-revolution France or the late 1920s. Big change is coming. Itll be soon

5. More to come

[koolkat9]

@bluudpop you have inspired me to expand on the human au with these tags though I diverge from them quite a bit...

GILBERT AND LUDWIG

Okay! Starting with Gil. Actually I don't think he's divorced or was ever married. He had Ludwig young like 16/17 either because he was pressured into sex by his girlfriend or because he was having a religious crisis and he had sex as a way to try to break free from the church.

Anyway, the girl ends up pregnant and her parents are not happy. Gil's dad (Germania) is also not happy, but he at least realizes that there is no changing this so he makes sure his son is involved through the pregnancy. The girl's parents are hard on her and as much as Gil tries to make his house a safe space for her, as soon as the baby is born, she dumps the baby on Gilbert and makes a run for it.

Luckily Gilbert has the support of his dad through it all. Until his dad suddenly passes away when Gilbert is 20 and little Ludwig is only 3/4. Gil no longer has that safety net. It's just him and Ludwig and now he's completely responsible for Ludwig's well being. Not to mention he's mourning his father who was that figure always there for him (Gil's mom died before he was 3).

Very lost and with a pile of money from his dad, he moves to a small town, opens up a mechanic shop. He finds out there is a parent support group at the recreation center and decides to go. It also has a daycare type thing while the parents talk so it would be good to get Ludwig socializing since that has been a struggle.

ARTHUR, ALFRED AND MATTHEW (AND FRANCIS)

I've been actually wait for an au where Fr//Uk divorces and Arthur is put the position of being the primary caregiver. Anyway, Arthur actually was married, but he's currently getting divorced from Francis. They had adopted the twins together, but it just added strain on their already strained relationship and they both knew that it was in the best interest of the kids that they separate. But it's hard on Arthur because he really loved Francis, they were together since highschool, spend college together. Now he's alone and he starts being the primary caregiver to the twins as Francis becomes more and more distant. Francis sees the kids yes, but they become more like an uncle/aunt.

One five year old child is a handful and two feels impossible. He's at least lucky Matthew is a well behaved child. Quiet, keeps to himself, has some issues with some of his clothing (sensitive to texture) and socially he seems to struggle, but otherwise never causes any fuss. Al on the other hand his bouncing off the walls, with a nose for trouble, consuming all of Arthur's time. Arthur is missing how Matthew is struggling and Matt feels kind of cast off to the side.

And Arthur is not doing mentally well. His mental health has rarely ever been good, but the divorce and parental stress has sent him spiraling. Oh. I just had a bad but juicy idea. Arthur having an issue with alcohol and gets blackout drunk with the twins around. Alastair catches wind of it and is absolutely pissed. But Dylan steps in, gives Arthur the ultimatum of getting help for his alcoholism or they'll take the kids. Of course Arthur chooses to get help (reluctantly, but still, those kids mean the world to him). Alastair doesn't trust him and basically moves in and helps him with the boys.

Dylan finds the parent support group and encourages Arthur to go. Arthur doesn't want to, but Dylan convinces him some way. And that's how Arthur ends up at the support group with Gil.

I want to add more parents but I don't know who...Feel free to suggest more parents because these are like the only two family units I have a lot of thoughts about.

I'll talk more about the kids in another post

[pixiemage]

I would love to hear your conclusions! 👀

-🍂

[This is related to this post my sleep-deprived brain decided to write up after pulling an all-nighter recently.]

Which Hermits would be able to hold a baby properly? And how would they behave with a kid? Let's find out! (And remember, this is he c!Hermits, not the cc!Hermits. Half the cc!Hermits are parents irl, but most of the c!Hermits are NOT. So that's what I'm basing this on. :3)

Part 1 | Part 2? | Part 3? | Part 4?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Doc - Oh my god he can absolutely hold a baby properly, and he's also likely to bluntly correct the way someone else does it if they're doing it wrong. He gets quite excited about kids, actually, and practically melts when there's one in the vicinity. The dude turns into a puddle of goo if a baby smiles at him. But he'll also turn on a dime and get pissed and deadly-scary if he thinks someone is about to hurt a kid.

Bdubs - Loudly proclaims that he can hold a baby properly. Isn't entirely wrong. He's mostly got it right and he's surprisingly more careful than some of the other Hermits might be. He's an absolute PRO at getting a baby to sleep - but he also forgets his own volume, so the second someone else tries to take the kid from him or the second he thinks someone else is gonna wake the baby, it's Bdubs' own loud voice that wakes the poor kid up in the end.

Etho - He can hold a baby but he looks awkward and uncomfortable the entire time he's doing it. He's likely to hand off the kid for someone else to hold, but he also quietly enjoys being in the same room while it's happening (though he'd probably not admit it openly unless asked directly). Despite his hesitance to hold a baby, Etho somehow also has Dad Reflexes, in that if he sees a kid about to fall or get hurt from across the room, he'll be across the room in half a second to stop it before it can even happen. Ninja Dad Mode Engaged.

False - Similarly to Etho, she's more likely to feel uncomfortable being put in charge of a kid. It's like a completely foreign language. She'd be the most awkward babysitter ever. (Also might forget that kids shouldn't have swords in her desperation to find an activity to keep her ward busy.) She not exactly the type to actively choose to put a kid in danger, it's just that she Does Not Get how kids are supposed to work.

Cub - Definitely can hold a kid properly, though he doesn't boast about it like Bdubs. It's one of those things he just Knows How To Do and nobody knows where he learned it. He's pretty chill if he's gotta take care of a kid. He treats the task with the same level of interest as any other project he might undertake. Also likely to talk to a kid like they're an adult. (Also might involve them in a mild prank or two, but nothing reckless. Just innocent fun times!)

Scar - Shockingly good with kids, and can hold a baby like a pro. He's still a little accident-prone so he's had moments where he drops a baby and manages to catch them with vex magic. No kid has EVER been hurt in his presence but he's certainly given other Hermits a heart attack with how close he's gotten. (But being dropped and caught seems to make the kids laugh so - no harm done? I guess?) He's also amazing at telling stories because his brain is full of them...and he's also prone to Disney Movie Marathons if he ever has to babysit.

Grian - Oh god. Uh. Can he hold a baby? Yes. Should he hold a baby? Absolutely not. This man is too chaotic and inattentive to be responsible for a child. I mean look how Grumbot turned out! The first one had an existential crisis and got locked in virtual reality, the second one banished most of the Hermits to a parallel world for a few weeks (and might have killed Scar in another life), and the third one plotted world domination before he was destroyed. Grian would likely take a real kid for flying joyrides even if they were far too small for that kind of thing. No. Do not. Give. Grian. A child.

Gem - This woman can absolutely be trusted with any child any day of the week. She's naturally good at it, though sometimes she might get nervous and ask for help just to make sure she doesn't do anything wrong. Not that she needs it. She's gentle when she needs to be, but also fun-loving and high energy if a kiddo needs play time. She also LOVES to play dress-up and pretend...no surprise there.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part 1 | Part 2? | Part 3? | Part 4?

(I'll probably continue this later...but there are a TON of Hermits and I might have underestimated just how long this post would be xD)

[a-dragons-journal]

I have a "type" (not a label user) that I'd like to know more about... it's of a fictional character (as much as it pains to say that), but it's a very Intristic identity, it's less "I found this character and now identity as them", it's definitely more "this part of me has always existed, i just needed to discover it". I've had this for years now. I've tried getting rid of it.

you could say I'm very alike them, but i say they're like Me, not the other way around. I'm not them, they're Me, because the former implies my identity came After discovering them.

I've Always been drawn to scenery, locations, language, clothing etc that's associated with or is the same as this characters source long before discovering them. My ideal appearance and home mirrors this character and their source. If I could wear their cosplay 24/7, I would, and I often do, because it's the most I ever feel like Myself.

I'm not spiritual, hell, i have a fear of that, but because of this almost past life-ish nature of my identity i label it as "quasi-spiritual". But I'd like to know possible mundane or psychological reasons for this. The idea of my identity actually being spiritual all along scares me though.. I don't know what to think. I've got past life readings twice before, different times different people, and they both said the same exact thing! and it kinda aligns with this character...

Maybe it's not that big of a deal and I'm over analyzing again lol. It's in my nature after all. I was hoping an alterhuman blog could help me out with this... Thank you for reading :)

So, I obviously can't answer any of this for you for sure, but I have some thoughts.

First: Truthfully, it's hard for me to come up with a lot of solid purely-mundane explanations for all of this, but I'm sure they're there. My best shot: Past life readings might be similar because they're in some regard based on you, and from a purely mundane perspective, it's possible the readers are picking up on aspects of your current self and extrapolating upon them, which logically might lead them to similar answers. It's possible that your experiences lining up with this character really is just coincidence - if you encounter enough characters in media, odds are that eventually you're going to trip on one that's very similar to yourself - and that doesn't make the label of "fictionkin" any less accurate, because what is that word if not shorthand for "this character/species is very similar to my experiences, so much so that it's easiest to get across my experiences by simply saying I am them despite any small differences they might be" anyway, regardless of the why-explanation that any given individual may attach to that?

That aside, and I realize this part is not answering your question, but I think it may be worth examining in the process of questioning this: Why does the idea of this being something spiritual scare you so much?

To be clear: this is not me saying I think it is, or even that you have to accept it as a possibility or anything. But if you're up for it, then examining that question, assuming you don't already know the answer (because you very well might know and just not have wanted to tell me, which is totally understandable), may give you some insights not just into this, but into a lot of your own rationale for things, which I think is good practice to have a good grasp on. If it is something that ends up making sense to you best through a spiritual lens, why would that be bad for you? ("Because it would contradict my previous beliefs in a big way" is a valid answer here, by the way, just one that then invites more questions, such as "am I letting my biases prevent me from changing my beliefs based on new information, and if so is that also a thing that might be happening with more important things, like political beliefs and whatnot, or is this just genuinely not convincing enough evidence for me?")

Anyway, existential crisis induction aside, other people got further mundane explanations for anon's experiences here?

[neuroprincess]

Just a rant here...

I was just talking about a subjetc that triggered many memories of when I was a teenager, WHY THE FUCK DO WE NOT TALK MORE ABOUT SEXUAL PREDATORY WOMEN? As a teenager I fell into the trap of "you look too mature for your age" or "you're so smart, so this and that, etc", not phrases spoken by men but women, I was just a 14/15 year old girl finding out about my sexuality and thinking I was in love with a 24 year old woman because she was the only one who "validated" me. So I ended up in tears feeling like shit when she got tired of me, then along came 24, 28 and even 33 women who used the same clichéd phrases, giving me some attention and I really felt special about it (mostly because I was a child prodigy and thought no one my age understood me, yes, I was a teen shit), they reinforced. At 16 I deprived myself of several things of being a teenager because according to the woman I was with "this is not mature", are psychological reinforcements for the shit that I already faced from the teenage crisis. Male teen predators suck as hell, but I think female predators have more emotional manipulation over teenagers, easily.

I also largely blame the fanfic media tsc tsc especially wattpad tsc tsc, teenagers read this, fanfics that basically romanticize female teachers with much younger students, mature women sleeping with girls. I wasn't the only one who find such a story while researching lgbt+ history, was I? In 2016 it was the theme that had the most in this niche, the stories are still there and have new ones. And unfortunately there are still stories, fanfics and the like that normalize this. And it's all very beautiful, romanticized... Protective, for being with a woman. When not so. It becomes a relationship about power when there is a big difference in age and one is an adult and other not. I'm going to have to use myself as an example again, sorry, but I was 16 and I was with someone aged 24 (almost 25) who always used her age in her favor, like "I know I'm doing it and telling you to do it because you're just a teenager and I'm an adult, don't do shit" and acted as "boss" in the relationship in every way because she was the "mature" one. It was about her being able and I not, about her knowing I wasn't, it was about how she attacked my self-esteem with small and big things, and I know a lot of girls go through something similar. I am very afraid of those who use their gender to get away with this type of psychological abuse (and other types of abuse) in same-sex relationships with teenagers. It's not talked about enough, about women looking for teenagers who don't know what they're doing or are in fragile moments for their own pleasure (and sense of power). Making it clear that I am talking about the age difference between ADULTS AND TEENAGERS, age difference between adult people is totally okay when are healthy and don't have this question of power. It pisses me off that there are still female writers who normalize this shit, I think I've seen three or four one shots with Wanda or Natasha with teenage readers, girl, TOTALLY NOT. And even though it has some dark tags, it can still be considered fucking pedophilia, it's a 16 teenager being coerced by adults to have sex. Dude, it's ok to write dark (I respect those who do, I'm not judging, everyone has their own tastes), but at least don't put teenagers in it. And damn, this content is so accessible to minors on multiple platforms, I bet there's a 1Xs year old reading this and thinking "Oh, an adult can be interested in me like this? Okay, sounds... Interesting?", sometimes they just get into things like that and don't experience anything healthy until adulthood. I have a friend 3 years younger and at 17 she was with someone almost 30, she read these fanfics/stories, idealized a mature and experienced woman as in what she read, at the end of the relationship that bitch stalked and used her until I had to intervene. Now she's having to recover from all the shitty emotional abuse.

Idk, I'm just rambling, but in conclusion I condemn anyone who puts and fetishizes teenagers and children (I love and hate AO3 at the same time), who normalizes relationship between women and underage girls as if it's something beautiful, just tell the truth, they are sexual predators as well as older men who prey on teenagers. Internet is a trap, there is no control, we just have to guide and protect these kids. Sorry for the rant, but I just got mad when I realized it still happens and hardly anyone talks about this shit. If you're a fucking teenager, don't think that's normal, they are adults wanting to take advantage of you just like men. If you have a teen sibling or relative or friend watch out for female predators too, not just males. They are still not fully formed people and need protection, especially lgbt+, we don't know their reality, how they see themselves or see the world, in the end they can be really fragile prey for these women.

[8bitsupervillain]

End of the Year 2024! The Games I Didn't Like

It is time for the most prestigious time of the year. All the games that were going to come out in 2024 have, and now it is time for the most illustrious of awards: The 8bitsupervillain End of the Year Bests, Worsts, and I Didn’t Particularly Care Fors. I have applied the usual scientific rigor against these titles, and have settled on this particular batch of games for your consideration. You might find yourself awestruck by my sheer audacity at some of the inclusions on the lists, but I assure you I have done a lot of soul-searching and have come away from it with the conclusion these are the correct placements. My game of the year awards are just as valid as any of the awards you’ll find elsewhere.

The Games I Didn't Like 2024!

There is a distinction I would like to make between the games I didn’t like and the games I didn’t particularly care for. It’s a small but crucial distinction, the ones I didn’t like sparked a small measure of hatred on my part. They made me feel something other than a vague sense of “yeah, okay I guess.” They’re not bad games in the sense that they’re mechanically broken or anything like that, it all just comes down to personal preference. At least to clarify, I don’t think any of these are mechanically broken, I just didn’t like them.

Legal Dungeon

Starting off with a puzzle game no one has ever heard of. Legal Dungeon is a narrative puzzle game with some light RPG elements, you try to organize the relevant files relating to the case your working on to determine a suspects guilt, or lack thereof. The cases progress in ascending levels of severity starting with charging someone with the grievous crime of insulting a police officer leading up to various murder cases. The problem I have with this game is it pretends like it’s introducing a grander conspiracy for the various crimes you’re organizing/solving but ultimately just sort of peters out without any satisfactory conclusion. I mentioned the game has light RPG elements, and that’s because as you solve inconsistencies with the crimes or note any particular oddities in the statements you gain attack power for when you face off with the villain of the case. It’s really not worth the time, or even getting that worked up over, I just remember quite vividly disliking it.

Without wishing to delve into spoilers I dislike this particular visual novel because of the way it takes some pre-established plot threads introduced earlier in the series and just completely ruined them. This entry in particular was so personally vexing for me it instilled a momentary crisis that my recent foray into visual novels has been a complete and utter waste of time. Other people claim to love this particular chapter, but I don’t understand these people this was the worst of the entries written by Ryukishi07 that I have ever read. And that’s saying something since as a whole I don’t know if I can actually recommend Higurashi as a series without some massive qualifiers.

This was one of the games that Konami had announced back in 2022 in an attempt to garner some fan attention in an effort to try to resurrect the once dead Silent Hill series. I do sort of wonder how this entry was received, I don’t really bother looking at reviews much any more so I’m curious if other people liked it more than me. I didn’t like this game very much primarily because I don’t like this type of horror game any more. The slowburn walk around inspecting the environments and then eventually there’s a spooky monster chasing you. I was getting sick of this in Outlast 2, and seven years later I care even less when the first entry in Silent Hill’s revival does it. I like the look of the monster in the game, it looks very neat, I also like some of the gameplay things it does. It takes the old Silent Hill idea of the radio making noise when monsters are afoot, but modernizes it to be your in-game smartphone/the speaker in the PS5 controller making noise instead. This might sound weird, given this is the third on my Games I Didn’t Like, but I didn’t particularly mind the story. It is a bit heavy-handed, sure with the suicide, bullying, and unrequited love beats it makes, but I didn’t mind it overall. Even the less than charitable description of the ending that a lot of people assign to it didn’t particularly bother me.

My dislike for the game stems primarily from the puzzles that aren’t very good, and the scenes where you’re being chased by the monster. It does that thing a lot of these types of horror games do that when the monster sees you it’s an instant death and restart. I don’t really know how you can make such a thing more palatable, it would probably look extremely stupid if the monster you conjured out of guilt and remorse just throttled you a couple of times and let you start running again.

I don’t like it. I find the actual gameplay in this video game to be annoyingly bad. Also it must be remembered: games are more than just their story.

For reasons I can’t fully justify the gameplay started really grating on my nerves. Maybe it’s down to the game’s insistence on keeping the old click to move gameplay style that the series has possessed since the original, but I was getting really fed up towards the conclusion of the game. A lot of my dislike towards the gameplay can actually be traced back to Diablo III, and a lot of western action games now that I think about it. The boss fights aren’t particularly hard, they just take a while to do because of how tanky the bosses have been made over the last decade or so. They just take a ridiculous amount of hits to kill, and it’s more time consuming than it is an actual challenge, and they try to make these bosses seem like a legitimate challenge by spawning in dozens of smaller trash mobs to steal your attention away from the boss, and after a while it just becomes irritating to fight. Especially when these these time consuming bosses kill you when they’re just about dead only to find despite having distinct phases the game doesn’t actually have midfight checkpoints so you have to begin the entire process over.

Also, unlike the last two entries where the stories are okay, I find Diablo IV personally offensive. They take decades worth of established lore and decide to completely and utterly rewrite it with each new entry. This is profoundly irritating when the story was one of the only enjoyable things about the Diablo series up until this point. The newer games in the franchise haven’t been doing so great in the gameplay department for years, having been long outclassed by other much better designed action RPGs. So the fact they took one of the aspects that remained enjoyable in this entire franchise and just start ruining it harder than the last two games is a very bitter pill to swallow.

It doesn’t even really have anything that makes me want to try to stomach it and play it some more. As I mentioned other action RPGs have come along that have severely stolen its thunder. I’ve read elsewhere that the Vessel of Hatred has improved the game a lot compared to how it used to be, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve managed to ignore the game so far and I sincerely doubt there’s much that could make me go back to it at this point. Unless they fired every single person who was responsible for the story so far. Then I might go back to it, or, and this is an impossible dream of mine that I know will never happen, they have Team Ninja make a Diablo game.