#the energy he radiates is just unreal

[namjoonaaah]

indigo ; from the colors of human, nature, etc

[intermundia]

here's a set of very important excerpts from about four pages of the fight on utapau between obi-wan and grievous, wherein obi-wan is in fine form, with just so much peak obi-wan behavior:

"dismantle your exoskeleton" really, obi-wan?? threatening him with both death and the desecration of his corpse?

"mildly" 😳

his presence alone became a weapon

acting so fuckin casually like this with the most feared murderous villain is just so..............

he sighed

"i trained the man who killed him" 🥵

i just.... the amount of dick energy radiating from obi-wan in this scene is unreal, like stover wrote him to be so fucking cool, he didn't have to make him this fucking sexy, he could've been much less charming, and yet.. he's like this!!!! he's so dangerous and yet deceptively pleasant and polite the whole time. the honestly vaguely homoerotic appreciation and admiration in this book for ✨obi-wan✨ is a large part of what makes it so incredible lol

[foxintheferns]

WILD HEART - Chapter One Release!

a Twilight-Paul Lahote Fanfiction

***Short summary for my antsy gals: this bitch with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: Finally starting my long-form Paul Lahote fic. Truly I am so JAZZED. I would love suggestions and comments as the story builds. Please enjoy the very first chapter! It’s a lot of character and setting development that’s much heavier than it will be in following chapters, so just bear with me 😫 I’ll be uploading pretty damn regularly, 2nd chapter will be up tonight!

CHAPTER ONE:

“All by yourself?”The grey haired, pinch-faced man tipped his face down to look at me incredulously from above his wire framed glasses, which drooped to the tip of his nose in response to the movement. His gravelly voice was muffled by the cloudy glass that separated his cubicle from the rest of the Forks Department of Motor Vehicles waiting room. The question was getting all too familiar to me, and it took more of my energy than it should to not roll my eyes at his curiosity, which was clearly laced with disapproval. I decided a soft smile, one that only I would know was almost painfully forced, seemed manageable.

“All by myself!” I responded curtly and with feigned enthusiasm. My eyes squinted as my cheeks were pushed up towards them by the effort of my smile. How many times did I have to have this conversation? Was it really that unheard of for a woman to live in the woods by herself? On second thought, maybe it was. But this was Washington! I expected my job title to be a bit more of the norm here. The man blinked at me, pursed his lips into a thin line, and shifted his sharp eyes back down to the work forms I had provided for him. He cleared his throat, tilting his head back again and holding the pages further from his face to peer down through the square lenses of his glasses at the top sheet. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his middle fingertip, bringing it back down to the papers and flicking to the next page. I sighed and shifted my weight onto my other hip, trying to not tap my fingers against the linoleum countertop in my impatience. Maybe I was taking his words personally, but I felt his distaste for my plans radiating out from his cubicle, washing over me in judgmental waves. It made me itch to get the hell out of there. I didn’t need any more resistance, having already gone through hell to leave my life in Maine behind for the next year and a half. He hummed a low grumble and proceeded to put the papers down on his desk, bringing his hands over his keyboard and beginning to type. He paused, then, peering up at me again. “Sullivan, Harley? Date of birth October nine-, no, erm,” He squinted down at the computer screen, “eighteenth, that is… of 1999?” His voice was more practiced and formal now, establishing that he had clearly decided to give up on the interrogation and go through the motions of providing me my updated license, one that would state my new residence in Washington. I nodded with an affirming smile, and he went back to typing. After a minute or two of clicking, tapping and sighing, the older man, whose name tag pinned to his blue button down read ‘Tom’, proceeded to stand up with a small groan from his chair. He slowly paced over to the large printer in the corner of the small carpeted room, clicking several buttons on the side of the massive contraption. Moments later, he pulled a shiny rectangular card from the tray of the machine, lifted it up to the light to eye it carefully, then lumbered back to the window where I waited.

“Well, Harley, you’re all set,” he announced, placing my new license along with my work forms down on the counter through the small window under the glass, “I wish you luck, on your… well, whatever it is you’re doing. Stay safe out there, kid.”

I nodded, shooting him a final grin.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the license and papers out from under the glass divider panel and turned on my heel, heading out through the small gathering of chairs lining the waiting room, and opened the glass door. The frigid air hit the skin of my face in a less than gentle breeze, causing my eyes and nose to scrunch against the sensation. My hair whipped behind me and I gritted my teeth. Welcome to Washington, I supposed. I walked swiftly over to my car, noting how dirty the side was. Scoffing to myself, I wondered if I’d ever again have a clean car in this rainy, muddy state, and then questioned myself as to why I cared so much. My white 1987 Ford Bronco wasn’t exactly the flashiest car around, and to my surprise it fit right in the with the extensive collection of old classic vehicles that called Forks, Washington home. I opened the squeaky door and quickly threw myself onto the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed behind me. I exhaled loudly once I finally sat down, leaning my head back against the headrest. My trip to the Forks DMV didn’t take nearly as long as I’d thought it would, and I knew that was probably due to the ridiculously low population that the town had to its name. However, it wasn’t the last thing on my to-do list for the day. I opened my wallet, placing my new license into the clear display window pocket, and tossed it across the seat next to me. I put the car into first gear and pulled out of the parking lot, eager to get myself situated in my new home. Groceries, gas, firewood, I repeated to myself out loud, knowing that if I didn’t make a list - even a mental one, my obligations would be doomed. Despite my repetition of my to-dos, I almost drove right past the tiny gas station that was settled in next to an old diner. After filling the Bronco up with gas and then buying firewood in the tiny convenience store, I looked up the nearest grocery store on my GPS, and found that Forks Outfitters wasn’t more than five minutes down the road. There was something very satisfying about being in such a small town. I proceeded to spend far too much time and money in the grocery store, not sure if I was over or underestimating the amount of food I would need, and having no idea what I would want to cook for myself for the next few weeks. My new house was quite a bit off the beaten path, and I knew I wouldn’t want to be making the trip to the grocery store in Forks too frequently once I was settled in. With a trunk full of grocery bags and firewood, I slammed the Bronco’s back door with a tired sigh, and walked over to the driver door, opening it with a loud creak. Gonna have to grease those hinges again, I thought to myself with a loud sigh.

“Miss?” I heard a deep voice from behind me. I spun around, one hand still holding my door open, and my eyes met a kind and gentle face. A middle aged man, who sat in a wheelchair and had long black hair that flowed from under a cowboy hat, met my gaze across the small parking lot, a slight smile on his lips. His chair was stopped in front of the automatic doors, off to the left of the entrance, and his eyes were on me. I smiled back timidly and then noticed his right arm was outstretched, his fingers pointing down at the ground leading to my car. I followed his finger and saw the sparkling blue of my debit card on the ground that I must have dropped on my way out to the parking lot.

I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and I glanced back up at the man.

“Oh, thank you!” I stammered and walked swiftly over to my card, laughing awkwardly and bending down to scoop it up. He nodded once, his smile reaching his eyes now, which then flickered to my car. He lifted his hand again, this time gesturing towards the Bronco. “Visiting from Maine?” He questioned, his voice curious and friendly. I glanced over to the rear of my car, which still had a Maine license plate bolted on. Tom from the DMV had let me know during my visit to come back in a week to pick up my new Washington plates.

“Oh, uh. No, actually…moving here!” I said as I looked back over to the man.

“Wow! Don’t see that often,” He grinned, then hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why exactly? Not that we’re not happy to have ya, there’s just not much here, hey?”

His demeanor was one of genuine interest, and his questions did not provoke me to feel alarmed, as they likely would have from any other strange man in a grocery store parking lot. I didn’t think it was just because of the wheelchair, although I kicked myself internally for making the mental note that he wouldn’t be able to catch me if I had to run away from him. Oh, the joys of being a woman traveling solo. I shrugged, still maintaining the smile on my face. “Have a job out here, actually. Wildlife biologist.” I saw his eyebrows raise slightly in response to my words. For whatever reason, telling this stranger of my plans didn’t feel as tedious as it had throughout the lengthy process of my settling into Washington, when the many questions of ‘why?’ and ‘but won’t you get scared, or lonely?’ had come up too many times to count.

“Impressive…lots of wildlife here, that’s for sure.” He seemed slightly fascinated, which was one of the two reactions I tended to receive. I wondered how he would react to the whole ‘living in a cabin the middle of the woods alone’ part of my plan. I decided it was probably smart to avoid letting the stranger know I’d be dwelling in the forest all by myself. I nodded, my smile unwavering.

“Yea, erm, I’ll be doing a good amount of data collection down at La Push, some of the species I’m focusing on are beach-goers,” I said with a slightly awkward laugh. His expression wavered infinitesimally, his eyes flickering with some expression entirely unreadable to me.

“Ah..,” He mumbled, glancing down to the ground briefly before looking back up to my face, “Well, let me know if you ever need some direction or help. I live down on the Quileute Reservation, La Push is on our land.” He paused again, then continued, “You can come by the main shop on the beach and ask for me, I’m nearby. Billy Black.” I took in the expression on his features once more, giving up at attempting to understand the man’s genuine kindness. It wasn’t often that strangers didn’t have some ulterior motive, but the man’s calm nature brought me a sense of safety and sureness. It almost felt fatherly, as if he knew I’d be out there by myself, despite my not mentioning it. “Thanks, Billy,” I responded, flashing a grin and holding my debit card up briefly as my expression of gratitude, “I’m Harley…it was nice to meet you! Glad I know somebody around here now.”

He nodded again, this time adding in a slight bow of his head that acted as a polite goodbye. I waved and walked back over to my car, starting the engine and getting my debit card situated back in my wallet. I put the car in reverse, and backed out of the parking spot, finally ready to make the drive to what would be my home for the next 18 months as I completed the work mission assigned to me by Washington state’s Wildlife Conservation Department. As I was preparing to pull out of the store’s lot, a glance in my rearview mirror showed a very tall, muscled, and longhaired young man exiting the store, hanging two grocery bags on the handles of Billy’s wheelchair and pushing it towards an old tan pickup truck in the lot. The boy looked around my age, and his features strongly resembled Billy’s. I quickly put together that they were likely father and son. I saw him glance towards my car as I waited at the stop light that swayed slightly in the wind above the small intersection, and quickly tore my eyes away from the mirror when his dark eyes seemed to find mine. I was grateful when the light turned green, and I took a deep breath as I pulled out of the parking lot, starting down the road towards my future.

_________________________________________________

After the 20 minute drive from the town of Forks to La Push, I pulled out the map that my new boss had emailed to me before my trip, pointing out the minimally marked trailhead towards my new home. I would be staying in the observational shelter that was provided by the state of Washington for whatever brave soul decided that conservation work was more important than their social life. I chuckled lightly to myself as I scanned the tree-line along the road, trying to match the trailhead on the map to any visual marker around me. The sun was just starting to come down, and I worried that I wouldn’t make it to the house in time. Then, I saw the small wooden sign, next to a long chain that was strewn between two short posts, that read ‘National Park - Protected Land, Do Not Cross. Washington State Dept of Fish & Wildlife appointed entrance ONLY’

Well, I thought, there’s my new driveway I suppose. My boss had provided me with the key for the chained entrance when I had arrived two days ago in Port Angeles and checked in for the start of my 18 month shift with the National Park center. I put the car in park and got out, key in hand, feeling giddy as I used the key to unlock the heavy rusted padlock. With effort, the heavy chain fell and I pulled it to the side. I got back in the Bronco and pulled it through the entrance, getting out again after I was through to re-lock the chain. I drove for about 5 minutes, my car struggling in only a few places that had an excess of mud, down the dirt path. The path eventually came to an end, where it widened out to a space about the size of three cars. I had been told that this is what it would look like, and felt pride in myself for not screwing any of the directions up yet. I parked the car at the end of the makeshift road, turning off the engine. I peered around me at the massive forest, ferns and moss lining the floor, and massive trees reaching up towards the sky. My eyes found the smaller, narrower footpath that I had been told would lead to my house. Another duplicate chain and sign hung between two trees at the front of this smaller trail, and I took out my next key. Next was the fun part. I pulled my massive hiking pack out from my backseat, unsure if grabbing the groceries as well was a good idea on my first initial hike to the house. I decided against it after feeling the forty pound pack on my shoulders. I began my trek down the path, taking in the greenery around me. I breathed in the cold air, smelling salty sea air mixed in with a fresh and endless scent of dirt and spruce trees. The hike was relatively easy, my excitement and interest in seeing my home for the first time pulling my body along. After a ten minute trek, I saw the outline of a structure begin to take shape in my vision, and almost squealed with anticipation. A few more yards in, and I could see the brown wooden house, an A frame cabin with a chimney that poked from its slanting roof. It had a small porch that wrapped around its perimeter, and a large sign next to it that once again clarified its State-regulated use. I was thankful for the minimal steps up to the porch as I approached the front door, and threw my heavy pack down onto the wooden platform of the porch. I dug into the pocket of my sweats and pulled out my car keys, which had the red key to the house dangling from the round keychain. I gripped the key in my hand, breathing intentionally to calm myself down, and stuffed the key into the lock, turning it until the door allowed me to push it inward. The door creaked just like the Bronco’s, and I smiled as it slowly revealed the interior of the structure. Well, that’s pretty much exactly what you expected, I reminded myself as I took in the small home. The front door opened to a tiny living room on the left that flowed directly into the minimal kitchen on the other side. Between the two sides, a small hallway flowed to the other end of the house, which was only about another 20 feet. I wandered down the hallway slowly, rubbing my hands back and forth on my arms as the icy air that filled the cabin chilled me to my bones. My boss had advised me that they’d left the faucets dripping to prevent the pipes from freezing over completely, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see the kitchen sink leaking ever so slightly. The next room to the right, behind the kitchen, was a small bathroom, and on the left behind the living room was a tiny bedroom with a queen bed. The room had a dresser leaning against one wall and a window that looked out to the forest. I noticed the stack of blankets on the floor that leaned against the bedside table, and knew I’d probably be grateful for those later.

I spent the next hour bringing my groceries, firewood, and supplies from the car to the house. I was told I was allowed to chop felled wood for the wood burning stove in the house, but had known that I wouldn’t have the energy after the long day of traveling and settling in. I was grateful I’d made the decision to buy the firewood, and got the fire started quickly after emptying my car. The small size of the house helped greatly in filling it rapidly with the heat from the stove. I was quick to close the blinds of all the windows, already feeling the reality of my solo isolation settling into my psyche. I locked the door, ensuring to lock in the deadbolt as well, and grabbed my bear spray from my pack, hanging it from one of the coat hooks along the wall by the door. I sighed and got started on dinner, playing music from my phone and swaying around the kitchen as I cooked.

Within a few hours, darkness had fallen on the house, and I was full of Mac and cheese, watching downloaded Netflix episodes on my laptop, strewn across the couch next to the fire. I felt gentle sleep begin to take hold of me, its warm arms wrapping around my body and urging me to close my eyes. I thought I could recall a rustling noise outside the house as sleep pulled me, but it wasn’t enough above the tapping and creaking wind for my brain to register the sound. And with that, I slipped under the immensely heavy blanket of rest, the odd image of a large grey wolf standing among tall pines, and then of Billy Black’s inquisitive expression as he stared at me in the parking lot of Forks grocery store being the last images my brain displayed on the backs of my lids before I was pulled under completely.

…………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: okay, so Harley is literally in the middle of nowhere, yikes, is it crazy to say this is my dream job? Well, maybe if I had a Paul Lahote who was out in those woods somewhere… cough. If you made it to the end of this chapter, you are a warrior. Development for such a niche plot like this is kinda exhausting but really fun! If you’re a romance girlie, I PROMISE this fic is for you. I swear on my LIFE. Just hold on and have faith 😭

➡️NEXT CHAPTER

[rhosmeinir]

Fictober 2023 #20

Prompt #20: “This had better be good.”

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: In which Aziraphale returns, and the reaction is not what he hoped. 649 words!

The bell tinkled. Crowley, legs draped over the arms of his deep chair, didn’t bother looking up from his book.

“Welcome to Fell’s bookshop, we don’t have what you’re looking for and we wouldn’t sell it to you if we did. Here to help.”

“Hello, Crowley.”

The demon jolted and whipped around in his chair, but before he could speak, Muriel came clattering down the stairs.

“Mr. Aziraphale, I thought that was you! Welcome back, how have you—”

“Muriel,” Crowley snapped, fingers digging into the arms of the chair as he stared over his glasses at Aziraphale, standing awkwardly below the door, “out.”

“But I—”

“Go to the cinema or something, just get out NOW.” At last sensing danger, Muriel hastily exited the bookshop with another nervous tinkling of the bell. Silence reigned as Aziraphale fiddled with the bottom of his waistcoat, and Crowley continued to stare. Finally, Aziraphale opened his mouth.

“Crowley, I—”

“No,” Crowley cut him off, levering himself up forcefully from the chair, “don’t speak to me.” He turned away from Aziraphale sharply, covering his mouth with one hand, the other propped against the back of his hip in a fist. The tension across his shoulders spoke louder to Aziraphale than if Crowley had screamed at him.

“Crowley—” the demon threw up a hand sharply as if to slap the word away. The fingers on his face tightened, holding back the churning turmoil Crowley’s mind, his eyes squeezed tight shut. He could feel Aziraphale’s gaze on his back, feel the familiar energy radiating from him; familiar, yet tainted, somehow changed, perverted. If he breathed he did not know it, and his body felt unreal.

“Cro—”

“Fine, Aziraphale!” Crowley exploded, spinning on the spot to face the angel at last, raised hand ripping the sunglasses from his face to hurl them shattering to the floor at Aziraphale’s feet, “Fine! Say your piece, but this had better be good, or Heaven’s going to find itself with an inconveniently discorporated Supreme Archangel.”

Aziraphale stared down at the ruined fragments of metal and glass on the floor, and felt the sting on his shin where a stray piece had ricocheted its way under his trouser cuff. His brows were knitted tightly, and he drew a shaky breath as he looked up at Crowley. Crowley, whose chest was heaving with fury, whose gold-glinting glare had never been directed at him like that before; whose heart he had broken.

“I— I’m not Supreme Archangel anymore.”

“Then why,” Crowley gritted, “do your eyes look like that.”

Aziraphale closed them shame. He had known the violet veins spidering his once bright-blue eyes would provoke a reaction from Crowley. Mustering himself, he looked up again.

“I left, erm, without notice. I— Crowley, you were right,” Aziraphale blurted, stepping forward suddenly and stretching out his arm. Crowley recoiled, and the angel juddered to a halt. “You were right,” he repeated, “about everything. You were right about everything. I thought I could do good, I thought I could change Them, but I couldn’t. Not by myself, not if you’d been with me. Crowley,” Aziraphale pled, for the demon was staring determinedly out the window now, “please, please, Crowley, look at me! I’m sorry.”

Crowley’s head dropped. Then, slowly, he returned to face Aziraphale. The angel’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, which broke to roll down his face as he blinked and choked out,

“I’m so sorry, Crowley. I’m sure I don’t have the right to ask you for forgive me, but—”

“I forgive you,” Crowley cut across Aziraphale, his voice inscrutable, “I just don’t know if I can ever trust you again.” Aziraphale flinched as though touched by a lash, and his voice broke when he spoke again.

“Crowley I— I love you.”

The words hung in the air like a prayer, and the silence that followed was the most complete the bookshop had ever known.

[fyeahiwatarikei]

Magic with a cost plus Kosuke? :>

Whumptober Prompts

Magic with a cost

He didn’t need to carry him far before being out of reach, certain nothing else could happen to them both – a mere turn and they returned to darkness, where Kei let go of him. Despite infinite care, Kosuke still tensed up when placed on the floor, and let a groan out when the back of his head met the stone. Was the pain external or…?

Meeting no resistance, he pushed one of the man’s hands out of the way and started unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. If the fabric had been damaged, showing what resembled light burn marks, it hadn’t been enough to shield the skin. Magic did not obey physical rules – in this case, it had continued its progression until it had met flesh, turning it in what seemed like a harmless shade of red. The thing was, Kosuke’s face displayed pain. He had taken the blow frontally.

No matter who had put a barrier there, he’d find out later and take necessary measures, for their sudden retreat, for the unpleasant, unreal view of the other’s agony. For the moment, however, he had said agony to take care of.

“Where exactly does it hurt, Niwa-san?”

He hadn’t been made to heal nor soothe, but any of them could control energy: he had the ability to remove it… as long as it hadn’t melted with Kosuke’s human essence. Even if he knew his fair share about mixed human and artwork energies, he had never had the opportunity to try his hand at manipulating foreign ones.

“Everywhere…?” the other responded, voice strained. “I don’t know…”

“Everywhere, where?”

With effort, Kosuke designated his own half-revealed chest. So, it hadn’t spread yet… Kei briefly shook his right hand and placed it against the bare skin, immediately seeking the painful traces.

It did burn, under the touch and within the man’s chest… It had thankfully reached this human body without any specific objective that would have made it significantly worse to deal with. Kosuke had been touched by the barrier, not attacked…

“Oof…”

He’d have to be patient: absorbing this would take at least a dozen of minutes, especially since…

Kei sighed. His blood had turned to ice when he had seen Kosuke struck, and his own breathing was just returning to normal. Such was the fate of someone who cared…

Exposing his most precious assets when required, risking their lives doing so. Making the most of their great talents, feeling fear when their beautiful position was threatened.

Kosuke’s bright mind, broad knowledge and agreeable personality had revealed him as a wonderful partner in research: who could have resisted the temptation of making him shine? And, of course, as Kei was mitigating the pain he had received during one of their escapades, his worth radiated even brighter. He could have lost him.

His existence wouldn’t have stopped, but he could have lost Niwa Kosuke.

Hand, wrist, arm, up to his shoulder, were gradually growing numb and heavy, as if blood circulation had lowered under the pressure of the absorbed magic – Kosuke had felt this right in his chest, right next to his heart, for a few minutes.

What had he thought then…?

Slowly, Kosuke’s eyelids parted, but he displayed no surprise when realising how close Kei’s face had lowered to look at him properly. They stared at each other, assessing the situation. Seeking reassurance, perhaps.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Barely… But…”

If he could ask questions, then he was returning back to his usual self; Kei took his hand back to test whether knuckles could still fold despite the lack of sensation in his limb. He could almost feel the grating energy crackling in his nerves. Oof indeed…

“I know a few tricks of my own, Niwa-san.”

Eyes shut again, and the latter breathed in with relief, as if a heavy weight had been removed from his body. Soon, he’d want to get back on his feet, and Kei wouldn’t stop him despite how unreasonable this decision would be – if anything, his own almost useless arm showed how much they shared this quality.

How long would it take Kosuke to notice they now shared the pain…? They also both carried the desire to always go on, at their own risk. No way he’d turn into a dead weight and force them to give up on their mission down there.

[soapisahimbo]

Simon seeing you breastfeeding his (yours) child🥺 you’re laying in your bed in your comfy clothes, radiating this glowing energy of calmness and safety and right in between your arms - your little puffin! According to men their brain is just.. exploding when seeing it! Like, it’s so fluffy and beautiful and sexy at the same time??

Aw man. It's such a foreign feeling for him. This whole thing about you being pregnant and then giving birth and now sitting peacefully with a tiny little child in your arms, that HE'S the father of? Unreal. He's not a stranger to handling kids, but this is just insane.

There you sit, among fluffy pillows and a soft duvet and you yourself might feel like a wreck, but he CAN'T STOP STARING. He's taking in every little sight, every little sound, every tiny little detail and he is wholeheartedly committing this to memory. You have to tell him to stop, because it's almost uncomfortable, in an amusing sort of way.

You will only see a sweet and loving man when he's with you and your child, but know that he will be even more of a ruthless killing machine out on the battlefield. He will go to some almost extreme measures tl make sure he returns to you.

[blossomingtininess]

herb cookie radiates sooooo much cg energy i cannot explain how much i love him and the way he cares for his plants

-🍐

I can definitely see the energy and I agree SO much it's unreal.. just a calm guy who lets you chill with his plants and otherwise have a very pleasant and healthy time (probably would make exceptions sometimes though for unhealthy things)

(i. totally forgot to take this out of drafts i am so sorry)

[synthetickitsune]

5, 21 & 22 (ateez or onewe ^^) ; hello, e. <333 hope you're doing well 🌷

m. <3 same for you, dear 🌸

5) Who feels the most like home?

Hmmm...... out of all my biases, I'd probably say my svt bias line? But tbh, lately Minghao's attacking me A LOT with comfort feelings so I'm gonna go with him. He just radiates that calm, soothing energy and wisdom, but he's also cute and clingy and just has that annoying unhinged sibling energy sometimes?? What's more home than that?? (Also my dad is really into fancy tea and tea ceremonies so... yeah...)

22) What are they passionate about and how does that make you feel?

(and y'know what? ateez AND onewe >:D)

Yonghoon's passion is obviously his music and making weves cry and wtf he's really good at soccer??? And look, it makes me feel emotional like all his songs and I'm geniunely in awe of how hardworking is - but I wanna keep this lighthearted and the one thing he's also passionate about and that's honestly hilarious to me and that I admire greatly is how he's always trying to rizz up Kanghyun askjgdahsg because SAME 😭😭 Nothing makes my day quicker than leader line bickering lmao, I love them so much I want what they have (also he was so happy when he finally succeeded ;-;)

For Hongjoong, his passion for fashion and especially the stuff he does with his clothes is just ??? idek how to describe it, like the joy he radiates and how freely he seems to express himself in his art is just ??? i'm a mess, sir???? idk idk just something about people being creative and expressing themselves just makes me emotional wreck

21) Talk about one of your favorite features of a bias

So for Hongjoong I'm really torn between his eyes and his lips?? But probably his eyes because he's the master of facial expressions and his eye acting???? Unreal. He's just has such pretty eyes and I hope that whoever came up with putting the lil gems right under his eyes in the shoots for the spin off gets a raise

As for Yonghoon.... this will get long........... (aka i'm totally normal about him hahhahaha)

but to summarize it:

YONGHOON'S FUCKING NECK AND VEINS

(i mean who am i kidding there's not a thing about my man that doesn't make me fold like a piece of laundry but....)

I swear he's gonna be the death of me in a general sense but like ??? his fucking neck ??? and ??? the veins ???? you have no idea what that does that to me and like when he has neck tattoos????????

but when he's singing and his veins pop, it's just.... my life ends and everything, i just shut down i can't handle that... i'm just a simp

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL??????? and bro fucking knows it!!!! (as he should asgashgdajkk)

...also this made me think of yonghoon so i'm gonna put some my fave yongie pics here because i now miss him and am sad :(((

[queen--of--shadows]

Healing Shadows: Part 10

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is a gifted surgical healer and water bender. Rhysand needs her help when he finds out about Feyre’s risky pregnancy. Azriel finds out reader is his mate.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2,032

Notes: I’m so sorry this took forever to get out! Life has been sooo hectic so I appreciate your patience and would love any feedback! I always look forward to your comments so please lmk what you think 🖤 part 11 will likely be the end! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

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Part 10: Home

Azriel grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as he led you downstairs and onto the balcony. Your heart pounded in your throat as the memory of your last time on this balcony with him hit you—your first flight just a few weeks ago, when you were convinced he and Elain were mates.

And now, he was taking you to the cabin. To see the stars.

He remembered… That night in the kitchen, when you confessed your love of the stars and the moon and the night to him.

Azriel slid a strong arm around your waist and the other under your knees as he lifted you effortlessly into the air. You were still in your pajamas and robe, but somehow it didn’t matter. You snuggled against his warm chest, the cold winter air nipping at your exposed ankles and wrists. His shadows enveloped you, creating a soft cocoon. You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, and could’ve sworn he leaned back into your touch. “Let’s go,” he whispered against your hair.

And then you shot up into the dark, his glorious wings beating against the blackness.

With the rapid ascent, your heart dropped into your stomach, but your faith and trust in Azriel didn’t falter. His hard, muscled body was protective, assuring. He wouldn’t let you fall.

You didn’t realize how tightly you had shut your eyes out of instinct until he encouraged with a soft laugh, “Come on, open your eyes.”

You did, and marveled at the sight. Velaris twinkled far below you, and the stars above you. The city looked unreal from this height, and you wondered if he and his brothers never tired of the view. The Rainbow, the Sidra—every corner sparkled and shimmered and hummed with a subtle, pulsing energy. Soon, the city gave way to pitch black darkness, and you clutched tighter onto Azriel as he picked up the pace, soaring through the clear, empty sky toward the cabin.

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You flew together in silence, still tired and exhausted from training and battling earlier. You could’ve fallen asleep in his arms, but soon he was gently landing on the roof of the cabin.

“Okay, close your eyes,” he whispered, placing both hands over your eyes as he led you.

He halted you to a stop and pulled away. You almost whimpered at the loss of contact, the bitter cold quickly replacing his warmth.

But you forgot Azriel was even there as you opened your eyes.

You gasped as you took in the incredible sight: millions of stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across the black, velvety sky, sparkling so close you thought Azriel could fly up and pluck one out of the darkness. The crescent moon was low and gold, illuminating the fresh dust of snow around the cabin and the surrounding forest. It was perfectly still, quiet. You never knew the night sky could be even more beautiful than it was in Velaris, but this…You were in awe.

You turned back to face Azriel fully, his cheeks tinged pink from the cold, black hair ruffled from the flight. As beautiful as ever. “Thank you,” you breathed, not wanting to speak even a decibel louder in fear of disrupting the perfect backdrop. He smiled softly back, his hazel eyes smoldering despite the darkness. Behind him, soft pillows and blankets were arranged on the floor, and he motioned for you to take a seat. You were shivering even with the thick, plush throws, but couldn’t take your eyes off the sparkling galaxies above. Azriel slowly wrapped a massive wing around you, warmth radiating off him even in the freezing cold.

But you didn’t forget the reason he brought you out here.

You didn’t turn to him, didn’t meet his eyes when you flatly said, “Explain.”

Azriel’s attention snapped to you. He knew what you meant.

“I…I’m sorry. I know my actions have been misleading. Elain is not my mate. Nothing has ever transpired between us. I know she’s had feelings for me since I met her, but I never reciprocated. But I also never put a stop to her advances, either. Rhys asked me to keep the peace with her, especially after what he had to endure with Nesta. I know it wasn’t right, and I should’ve told Elain a long time ago that I wasn’t interested. And I’m sorry that it took me this long. But I promise, Y/N. I have never and will never have any feelings toward her, romantic or otherwise. I’m happy that she has Lucien and is headed to the Day Court. I hope she accepts him as her mate,” he trailed off.

And for some reason, you believed him. Every inch of you accepted his truth.

You let his words sink in, but didn’t offer any reply other than popping open the bottle of sparkling wine nestled next to your pillow, and taking a long swig before passing the bottle to Azriel.

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You sat together for some time, passing the bottle back and forth until the last drop, Azriel shielding you from the cold while you admired the stars and shared stories. You told him about your childhood in the human realms, growing up not knowing your father, and the loss of your mother. Azriel shared stories of his own past with his brothers, their antics at the very cabin you were now sitting on the roof of.

The thought of Elain didn’t cross your mind again.

“Do you want to head inside?” he asked quietly with a half-smile, moonlight glazing his smooth, iridescent wings. Hours could have passed. You had no concept of time as you both got lost in the stars and each other. It took all your effort to break your gaze away from the starry sight to nod at the Shadowsinger, wrapping your blanket around you as you followed him down into the cabin.

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“There’s clothes in the bedroom closet, feel free to grab whatever fits,” Azriel said, gesturing towards the room at the end of the hall before turning toward the kitchen.

The cabin was cozy, warm, old—but in a comfortable, familiar, worn-in way.

You rummaged through piles of clothes until you found a pair of soft leggings and a thin cotton top. The cabin was much warmer than the roof, likely due to the magic that kept the fireplace running and heating it to a cozy temperature.

You trotted back down the hallway that led into the living room, where Azriel was seated comfortably on the plush couch, two glasses and a bottle of red wine on the glass table next to him. His eyes darkened as he took you in.

“That’s my shirt.” His quiet, midnight voice sent sparks down your spine. Your tattoo felt like it was set on fire by his words.

You looked down at the black shirt, now understanding why it hung to your mid-thigh. “I thought it was one of Feyre’s tunics,” you said with a nonchalant shrug, but something deep in your core sparked at the look in his eyes. Azriel’s nostrils flared as he turned to the wine, popping off the cork with one easy motion, and pouring it out into the two stemless glasses. You took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, grabbing the wine from his hand. As he reached out his arm to you, the edge of a jagged wound flashed from underneath the cuff of his shirt.

“What happened?” you said, quickly grabbing his wrist with your free hand as you set the glass down on the floor.

“Nothing, it’s just a small cut. I had to deal with some… issues. At the camp, earlier this evening.” He didn’t move as you carefully peeled his shirt back, examining the jagged, open wound. “It hasn’t scabbed over yet,” you said under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

You dropped his wrist as you rushed to the kitchen and filled a bowl of lukewarm water, setting it on the ground next to your wine.

“You’re exhausted, Y/N. Please. Today’s practice took a toll on you. It’s okay, it’ll heal on its own,” Azriel said, concern lighting his eyes ablaze.

“It’s fine, really. I need to practice my healing, anyways,” you said, commanding the water in the bowl up effortlessly. You weren’t lying; the stream of water was nothing compared to the mass you were working with today. It followed your fingers and began to glow bright blue as you adjusted it above the wound, swishing it side to side over his open flesh.

And then the water turned black.

You were startled, but didn’t lose control of the water. Azriel looked shocked, his expression matching yours.

You leaned in to get a closer look, making out Azriel’s shadows swirling with the water until it became a midnight blue, glowing as you kept cleaning and healing the wound.

“They’ve never done that before…” Azriel whispered, studying his shadows closely. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why or how they’re doing this.”

You continued moving the water and shadows, now alternating between bright glowing blue and dark, obsidian black, until Azriel’s wound was barely a pink scar on his arm.

“It's okay, I don’t mind. They’re not disturbing me at all. In fact, I think they quickened the healing process,” you said with a smile, admiring his beautiful shadows as they retreated to their master, swirling lazily around his shoulders and arms.

He studied the remainder of his wound, running a thumb over the newly-healed flesh. “Thank you,” he said, moving imperceptibly closer to you on the couch. You nodded in response, polishing off the rest of your wine before pouring out another and topping off Azriel’s glass, his scarred hand waiting patiently for you.

You didn’t know if it was the wine or the proximity, but something in you gave you the courage to ask.

“What happened to your hands?”

Azriel went still, looking at you through his dark, thick lashes.

You reached for his arm, the one with the wound you had just healed, and wrapped your fingers around his. You wouldn’t back down. You weren’t afraid— not of him, not of his past.  

“I was bastard-born to a vicious father; forced to stay in his keep until I was eleven without any windows or light. He had two legitimate sons, both older than I, both cruel and spoiled. When I was eight, my brothers wanted to test how quickly my Illyrian healing gifts worked with oil… and fire.”

Your heart sank into your stomach. Rage bubbled in your veins, your blood, your bones. That dark, evil magic deep in your soul threatened to kill, burn, destroy.

“I’m sorry. That’s unbelievably cruel,” you whispered, running your thumb along the gnarled skin on the back of his hand, aware of the distance between you two yet unable to keep from inching closer to him, close enough that you could brush your lips against his. Azriel squeezed his fingers around yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to match his gaze, couldn’t bear to understand the depth of his pain. You didn’t regret asking, but were desperate to change the conversation, desperate to shove that rage back down.

“I didn’t know you were a daemati.”

Azriel furrowed his brows, and then a wave of panic washed over his face, disappearing instantly as he willed his expression back to neutrality.

“I’m not,” his voice was barely above a whisper, his breathing uneven. His shadows began swirling faster around his shoulders, down his arms and up yours. You cocked your head in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I heard your voice in my head this morning. During training, when Lucien had me tied up.”

Azriel slowly pulled away, out of your grip.

You weren’t hallucinating, right? You did hear him?

“Y/N, I…I have to tell you something. It’s why I brought you here.”

Your heartbeat quickened, pounding in your chest and into your throat. Your mouth went dry.

Azriel surveyed your expression, your cheeks rosy from the wine and the warmth of the fireplace.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Azriel went still as he whispered, “You’re my mate.”

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CHAPTER FOUR (TQOHH)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen OC

Description: Her warmth and love caress his soul making him hum with bliss. Having her presence near makes all of the dark thoughts perish, as she was the flowers that grew in the darkest part of him. She is the keeper of his soul. Holder of his heart. Without her, he is nothing.

A/N: thank you for your patience. I have been feeling sick this whole week so it took time away from me to finish this chapter. Plus, I had so many idea on how this chapter was going to go, until I finally decided so again thank you for your patience. I might go back and revise some details because I feel it’s not my best. xo

The Queen of His Heart Series

Word count: 6592

italic - flashback

Winter collapsed into Spring, a season that symbolizes new beginnings that awaits to be strived. It is the time where the flowers are nourished and the sun above grants them the approval to blossom to present their beauty. The pure season was the Targaryen princess favorite out of the three seasons. The night wind begins to feel moist with the smell of turned loam and the early flowers. The moon pouring out its beauty for those to stop and admire, and allow the lick of the moons energy spur onto them beginning to feel light and safe.

She would spend most of her time out in the garden where she gets to capture the perfume of the flowers. She would sit under the looming tree that dance with the wind, and at times goosebumps will travel throughout her arm when it shyly looms over her; it made her soul smile.

The admiration she holds for such season was ethereal sight to admire from where the prince was standing. He loved how adorning she was for just being. The way the radiant grass surrounded he made her be unreal. She radiated colorful hues that it was too hard to look away, so drinking her appearance till he was full will satisfy his heart, but like always he can never get enough as she was so addicting that she became his drug.

The past four years, Aemond has watched Eudora transform into the greatest version of herself. He watched her behind the shadows – watched the care of her heart that she gives to those that needed a reminder that they were still people like her. He watched the smile she gifts to them and the help she grants without cost. He watched her leave her chambers at late hour to sneak into the Maestors hall to steal medicine, and then she would head down to town where she awaits by a door for someone to open.

There, he saw an older woman who would usher her in and would look out to make sure no one was around. There he found a roof that gave him window access to what the princess transpires, and he spied with his one good eye how she nursed a little boy to good health. There he watched the woman giving her a crying hug when she saw how her son was getting better. He watched how she will look take off her disguise and saw how unafraid she was to show who she was. He thought, at first, how daft she was to do that as she could've lost her life from there, but over time the more she went out and continue to uncover her identity made him see that everyone did not once snitch of the princess; instead, they protected her.

Aemond had pride in his heart knowing he was with someone with heart of gold. Aemond had pride in his heart knowing that someone with a heart of gold, also had a heart of a warrior.

Through the four years that'd past, he has watch her skills advanced. The way she dances with the sword, the way her eyes sharpen and her senses heighten showed how hard she trained in hiding. When Eudora was ten and four and Aemond ten and six, he once asked her "why do you train till the sun rise?"

"why do you train when the sun is full horizon?" she countered questioned.

"Because it is my duty of course. When the time comes where war knocks at our gates, it is my duty to fight for my house, my realm, my family."

"You have answered your questioned then" she said not giving any further explanation which Aemond found unreasonable seeing how the two shared everything together, except for this reason. Till this day, he still wonders and he still questions her and in return, she gives him another dead end. Though she does not offer her reason, she does offer him her wisdom.

The moon light greeted them when they enter the training yard. Aemond was behind her – observing the way her fingers touch each weaponry. He watched her picking one weapon, twirling it around and touch the edge where it was the sharpest, and put them back down. He watch her do that for every weapon, and when she was done she turned to look at him over her shoulder. She extends her hands out which he takes without hesitation.

When he was by her side, their hands never once let go as she spoke, "my father once told me that a sword is given to one who's bravery stoke the spirits. Its blade rivals crystal clear water, and like fire, calcines in each cut – because of its brightness, it appears crowned with pearl. By what I translated from him and what I have learn throughout my training is that a warrior must know the purposeful difference of each weapon. The shield is defense. The spear a battle trench. The sword is a guardian. The dagger is an ambush; knowing these ranking give you a good outlook what will help guide you what will beat your opponent.

But what every solider does not keep in mind is the bondage that must forge between them and their sword – with any other weapon in fact. A soldier and their sword is one, it is a sigil of unity and when you have acknowledge that you will become unstoppable."

"Why are you telling me this," he questioned her – eye still on her as he has never focus on the weapon she has not taken her eyes off, until she finally strip her eyes away and turn to him.

Violet meet Vermillion.

"I've seen you train with Ser Criston, and you train very hard. He rewards with words that you have potential, that you're getting better, and he's not wrong. You are becoming well with the sword, but his teaching lacks valuation. I observed you from behind – when you swing you swing with hate, not swiftness. Hatred has bared you in shackles my Aemond, it has blinded you from what is in front of you."

"Hatred is what got me becoming the best swordsmen Westeros has ever laid eyes on," he argued. She could see it in eyes again, the anger. But deep within she sees a boy whose afraid and needs a hand to hold. A boy who hides as he is to afraid to reopen what has been neglected.

"But it is also a form that will have you dead," she sniped. "What will happen when that anger consumes you Aemond, what then?" She pushed herself closer where now their chest touched, making Aemond breath to hitch feeling how close she was and to feel that familiar feeling of her warmth radiate off to him. "I tell you this for your own good because I care for you" she gently lay her hands on the side of his cheek making him lean down against them. "I am not trying to lower your self-esteem – that will never be my intention my love. This is my wisdom I gift to you: connect with the weaponry art you handle, mend with the past that brought the invasive vines. When you do that you will be unstoppable, you will see the truth." she promised.

She knew she can't change Aemond, no one can change the boy who is man becoming. What happened four years at Driftmark traumatized him, and it is what brought him to who he was now. Nevertheless, she will still stand by him and watch him transform on his own accord. That is the reason why Aemond can not help but love her. His Eudora, the keeper of his soul, holder of his heart – without her he will be lost.

Aemond, the one-eye prince has become a very quiet and angry child. Eudora, the realm jewel has become a wise and the anchor child of the family. They are two opposites that attract to each other.

Black and White.

Violet and Vermillion.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts, and focused back his attention on her. Aemond looked back down at the bouquet of Irises he held, making sure they were the ones she favored. Black Irises, her favorites.

This became a traditional exchange every time Eudora comes back from Dragonstone. She had spent a moon there having the joy of spending time with her family, whilst Aemond dreaded that whole entire month as he awaited for her to return. That was the longest she has gone away from Kings Landing, usually her travel is two weeks – no more longer than that.

When Aemond received news of her arrival, he put down everything that he was doing and ran toward the window where view the red keep, and from a distant he saw Jyrot's big figure concluding the prince that his princess had arrived and was sure she was making her way to the gardens, and he was right as he stood not far from where she laid.

As Aemond began to make his way his footsteps that pressed against the pebbles perk her ears up; her eyes abandoning the book that was laying across her lap. When she met eye contact with the one-eye prince, a smile immediately began to spread on her lips. "My Aemond."

My Aemond, oh how he treasure that name that glides from her tongue so smoothly. It made his heart hammer and when she brought herself close to now he felt her chest pressed against his own, he was afraid with how close she was she might've hear how his heart raced for her. She looked at the Irises that he held with both hands knowing it was a welcome gift for her, as she was finally home where she belonged. "My Eudora welcome home" was he said and smirked when he saw the blush blossoming her cheek. "I gift your favorite, black irises. I had made sure the gardeners to plant them from the direction of your chambers, so when you wake up on the morrow they will be the first sight you'll see from your window."

The princess was absolutely touched by Aemond's munificence, and gladly took the flower from his hand. "Aemond how considerate of you to do that; you know you didn't have to extend ways to do that for me," she said shyly as she took the flowers from his hands. "But like always, I thank you."

"For you... anything my love" he placed his hand on her cheek, and his thumb caress her soft features. "I have you missed you" he confessed, "a moon without you made the castle felt so empty, felt so dark without your light."  

"And I am now here" she reminded "do not fret my princeling as I assure you I will not abandon you. I can see from the bags under your eyes that you lack sleep. Oh my Aemond do you wish that I continue to remind you the importance of taking care of yourself" she tsked.

"I guess I need to be kept reminded," he smiled making Eudora roll her eyes at the boy, however, deep down Eudora does sometime grow concern for Aemond. Being by his side made her see how much he overworks himself, and she is always the one to remind him to take afternoon naps for his body to reset from the hours of training that consisted  of attentiveness and agility. Sometimes, she would wait outside his chambers when he was finished bathing and would get the queue that she was able to come inside. When she did, she would walk up to him and began to brush his hair while humming a lullaby. The two will then move to the bed where Aemond will have his head laid on her lap as she continue to comb her fingers through his hair to ease the tension that would flex. Oh how Aemond had miss her care that he had to depend on tea that the Maester brew to relax his body.

"Well then you can rest your head on my lap as we bath under the sun. I think this will calm your senses and blanket you to sleep. I read that the earth's perfume is quite grounding for the body.   I will comb through your hair while I tell you of my time spent in Dragonstone, I'm sure the topic of our nephews will drowse you to sleep" she joked making the prince to chuckle at that.

"Or we could head to my chambers where it just the two of us, or yours  either will work" he began to step closer having her to move back further, but stopped when her back was pressed against the bark. "I would rather us have the privacy in order for I to share how I've truly missed you. I want to feel your lips against mine again."

"Can you make your voice any louder my prince? I'm sure the ears of others will be delighted to hear your intentions and gossip" she hissed.

"And I'll let them" he challenged, "as it will be easier on my part to have all of Westeros know who holds your heart, and who holds mine."

Ah yes, another thing that began to blossom over the years, the secret relationship between Eudora and Aemond Targaryen. In a week, it will mark two years since they've been in a relationship and two moons till Eudora name day where Aemond would go up to his King father and Queen mother to ask for her hand. Of course over the time of them being intimate in the dark, never did Aemond take the girls virtue, but there wasn't a time where he did thought about it.

It started when Eudora was in the library alone, until Aegon made himself present making it now the both of them. What the two didn't know was that Aemond was also present as he was hiding behind the shelves where he saw how his brother tried to advance himself onto Eudora. The thought of another man, especially his brother, thinking that they had the privilege of placing their grimy hands against her delicate skin made him mad. Aemond over the years has grown quite cold since that time his nephews took his eye. But with the intense training and education, Aemond body and mind grew strong making him evaluate that he was the only one to be worthy of her, which is when he began to be possessive over Eudora.

When Eudora try talking to Aegon of keeping his distance and how inappropriate his intentions were, did Aemond came around the corner making his presence known. Aegon the eldest no longer had the upper hand as he grew quite intimidated of his little brother, especially the way Aemond towers Aegon height made him seem the eldest. When Aegon understood the message, did he left the library leaving only the two left.

Aemond checked to see if she was not in no ways harm, and kept asking her multiples questions that were left unanswered. He eventually stopped when he felt her hands rest against his cheek. The two looked at one another, and sense of calmness cascade through his body when he saw the peace into her eyes. "My Aemond" that name, oh how he loved the way she said. "Always my knight to rescue me from danger, how could I ever repay you?"

With a kiss, he thought or so he thought he did.

"With a kiss? I see... then I a kiss I grant you" and so she granted placing her plump lips against his own making him instinctively grasp her waist pulling her closer. Her hands that rested around his neck began to travel their way to underneath his hair, pulling it making him groan into the kiss.

Eudora was the one to pull away and she smirk when Aemond tried to press his lips onto hers again, but she jerked her head back preventing that to happen. Aemond eyes flutter open, his violet eyes meeting her vermillion ones. "Did that satisfy you my prince?"

"More than you know," he dipped his head making his nose brush hers. Eudora could see the questions beginning to pile in his head, and he wanted to ask her if she felt the same; she just waited for him to ask and where she can say yes.

Eudora has been having romantic feelings for her Aemond, ever since she was ten and two. Unlike Aemond, she knew how to bay her feelings for him, but there would be times where she will make it known in the most littlest ways; it astounded her though of how blind Aemond was as satirical that metaphorically sounds.

Aemond for her, was everything that she wanted.

Eudora for him, was everything he wanted.

When Aemond finally grew the guts to say the words, and hearing her being on the same page made his heart brighten with glee making it travel throughout his body. Eudora smiled at the boy smile that he gifted her. "You don't understand the relief that is soaring from my heart, my love" he said out of breath. "I have waited since I was ten and three to tell you how I truly felt, and hearing that you too feel the same; that your heart yearns to connect with mine, it has me make sure that no lords take your hand."

"And no lord will take it because I belong too you, as you belong to me. Till death do we part my Aemond," she assured, caressing his missing eye that is hidden behind the patch.

"Till death do we part..." I'll make sure death does not take you away.

News of the princess arrival travel it's way to Aegon who was making his way to the kitchen to get another bottle of wine. However, he came to a stop when he heard his mother calling out for him. Alicent with Haleana behind made her way to her son, and base off the look on her face made him dread that he was still sober knowing what will lead from this conversation.

Without another word coming from the Queen, she took her sons arm pulling him to wherever she was going. He looked behind to his sister who hands was intertwined in front of her, her head bowing down as he could see she was in some sort of trance. He roll his eyes at the thought of marrying her, and his stomach turn knowing he was going to have too... consummate with her.

Aegon does not hate his sister, he just doesn't want to do anything with her. She was the odd siblings and he didn't want to have kids with her believing that his children might be like their mother, making it even more of a headache to hear another voice speaking mad nonsense.

Aegon was hoping to be married off to rather Eudora, the realms jewel. Ever since they were children Aegon did not hide his infatuation toward her, in fact at every chance that he had he will try to steal a kiss; he always wonder how they would feel against his own. They seem so soft and fluffy, that he swore he may moan. Aside of that, Eudora is a woman that has ever man to be transfixed. It is a rarity to find beauty of someone inside and out, and seeing the care she gives to others, and surprisingly sometimes Aegon – made him want her even more.

He would find servant maids that had dark hair, and would blindfold them to help his delusional mind to think it was her he was fucking, and will easily moan out her name through his lips. The servants of course did not know how to close their mouths, as the gossip began to travel all the way to the Queens ear.

When Alicent figured out her sons transgression she never felt such vicarious embarrassment. She didn't hesitate to smack harder sense into Aegon. She seethe at her son repugnancy and began to make it known that if his father heard of this atrociousness, he would have his head irregardless if he was his son. He would strip him of his title giving it the more reason the council to not take Aegon seriously. Especially, if word went to Dragonstone of her son lascivious Alicent would be afraid that the rogue prince will not hesitate to take his head, and even more afraid that her dear husband wouldn't do nothing about it.

From there on, Alicent made it known that Aegon was no son of hers, but just a pawn that has she saved on the chess board where to can finally yell out 'check mate'.

As Alicent and her children enter her chambers, the two sat themselves down but sure they were at a distance. Alicent who was still standing looked at her children facial expression that read misery. She paused for a moment to gather herself, and eventually let out a breath to announce what she was going say, "I have you two here today because we need to plan your ceremony that will be taking place in three weeks. Since the announcing the two of you being betrothed, I and your grandsire could see that either never made the effort to spend quality time as a... couple. For the sake of reassuring the council, you two must present yourself as a strong couple who will one day rule the seven kingdom."

"I thought the quality time spent as children was enough bonding," Aegon said.

"Aegon please..." stress began to consume the Queen and the beginning of a headache. "Heedless of your credence, you and Haleana are to marry to strengthen claim to the Iron Throne."

"Then why not wed me to Eudora, she is of Targaryen blood what's the difference within that?" Aegon thought this to be sense. If he were to marry Eudora his claim will be strengthen due to their family be in the highest position of power, with Aegon and Eudora heirs also being full-blooded Targaryens making them legitimate. "Not only that, but she is the daughter of Maegor The Mighty making him known to be the most admirable of our family history. Me being married to Eudora will evidence that our future children will take those traits making us even more powerful and over trump Rhaenyra bastards children. None other than that, everyone is practically in love with her because she hold the perfect trait as Queen; think about it mother–" Aegon stands up as he made his way to his mother who eyes never waver from her son. He took both of her hands, gripping them to signal his emphasis. "Eudora and I will be pictured the perfect sovereigns. Marry me to Eudora and I will complain no longer. Marry me to her and I will change, please."

Before she was able to speak her thoughts, a voice interrupts ruining Aegon chance "I applaud of your ambition grandson, but that will not be allowed unfortunately," coming out from the shadows was the Hand, his grandsire and behind him was his brother who walked behind him.

"I'm glad that my grandson over here–" Otto paused as he turn to Aemond who kept staring at Aegon who was fuming from within. "–who spoke of this meeting that I was not inform about" he then looked at his Queen daughter who had her head bow, not wanting to meet the eyes of her father.

"I was just reminding them of the wedding that's not to far father."

"Yet by the look in your eyes I could see you were considering your eldest sons ideation. Nevertheless, the answer is no. Eudora is off limits according to the King, I apologize my grandchild but your father will deny your proposal – in fact he will not allow it. Trust me when I say that I have consider the notion to the King, but he has no intention of her being married as of now. According to his words, he would rather prefer her choose someone than being forced; similar to what he had done for Rhaenyra."

"Then I have time to sway her to like me, and if I can do that she will want to marry me. Her words hold power over the King, he will not deny her if he sees the love in her eyes" Aegon prevail. "Her name-day is what? two moons from now? That gives me enough time–"

"She will not even look your way brother" Aemond butted in. "and if you knew her well enough, you would've known that she has no intention in marrying at all as she has dreams to travel. So I am apologize to break it to you, but taking the princess hand is a lost cause."

"Then I will change her mind," Aemond eye began to twitch as he could see how sedulous his brother is becoming. Aemond wanted to laugh at his brother thinking he had a chance of scooping Eudora into his arms, when already she was in his and he has no intention of loosing his grasp. "And if her heart does not beat for me then I will just... bed her" and that is where he overstep the line.

"You dare!" Aemond spoke, but was cut off by his mother who grabbed the collar of Aegon shirt making him come eye-to-eye at the fire spitting off.

"Do you truly want to be put on your death bed Aegon? I'm being serious – are you out of your goddamn mind, dear sevens you will be dead once the guards will hear her screams. Viserys alongside Rhaenyra will burn you alive by the time you even have the chance to flee! In result, you as my son will have us ruined!" Alicent pushed him off of her as she wiped her hand harshly on her dress. "And I for one will not have you even touch Eudora, that girl has done nothing wrong but care for not only your brothers, but Haleana as well." Alicent couldn't believe the person in front of her was her son, and it made her think what she did wrong that made him turn out this way. "You will marry Haleana end of discussion." With that the Queen along with the Hand left the room as they had further themes to discuss.

Now it was the only the three Hightower-Targaryens left in their mothers room, none moving. Haleana began to pick at her skin causing her to bleed, eyes closing as she tried to soothe the voices that were beginning to grow louder and louder. Unfortunately, none of her brother noticed as they still stared at one another.

Aemond took a couple steps forward, now closer face-to-face toward his brother. "You will steer clear of Eudora, and if I hear that you place a single hand on her eyes regardless if it was friendly... I will take you by the neck and have you be Vhagar's meal."

"You wouldn't do that" Aegon cackled "or else you will be known not as the one-eye prince, but Aemond the Kinslayer; would you corrupt your image to that little brother?"

Aemond hummed processing the name, has a nice tune to it. "For her I will wear the name proudly – with honor" Aegon look into the depth of eye to see he was bluffing, he saw none. Usually Aegon would back away, but the anger rising inside him did not falter.

"You think you have a chance with Eudora brother" Aegon questioned with amusement. "You think the realm jewel will ever consider you? The second son, fourth child of King Viserys? Eudora is a gem and you... you are crippled." he laughed. "No amount of training will ever hide that because that right there" he pointed at the patch "is a reminder that you are nothing but worthy of her. You really think the kindness of her heat is genuine, are you sure it's not pity that she has for you? Like mother?" Before Aegon could further deepen the knife, Aemond grabbed him by the neck.

"You know know nothing of her heart" he seethed. "And you will never know because you as well brother are not worthy to have her, and to think you had the window of opportunity because you're the first son is satirical. You are a drunkard, disappointing prince and that is what you will always be."

Aemond marched his way to Eudora's chamber where he knew she was taking her afternoon nap or reading the book of herbal medicine she stole from the Maesters. When he turned the corner he saw Eudora's knight guarding the door, Ser Arron Petrovy. When the knight saw the one-eye prince and the urgency into his walk he didn't question him nor stop him from entering into her chambers unannounced.

Eudora pull herself away from the book, standing Aemond correct of his assumption. Eudora looked over his body language and immediately know that something, or rather someone had bothered to the core that he was irregular breathing.

She placed her book down by the table next to her, and made her way to the one-eye prince who's hands come to rest on her elbows pulling her in close where he could feel her breast plush against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she felt the tightness around them as if he was afraid she will be taken any moment. Aemond pressed his forehead against her own, cuddling further into her where he nose brush against her once again. Eudora hand began to stroke his cheek lovingly and traveled up to the cut. "What has you tense my love" she spoke.

"Just my brother" was all he said, not explaining further which she decided not to pry him out of which he felt grateful for. "I just needed to come here, I just... had to make sure you were here."

"We were literally laying in the garden for the past two hours my love" she chuckled. "And it's been barely an hour since we parted ways."

"I just need your warmth against my own once again" he said. "your lack of presence for the past moon was very much missed that I think I might sleep in your chambers once again."

"If that what you want then be my guess, I will not complain" she pulled their heads apart where she can meet his eye. "Besides, I think I will like to have you with me tonight. The past nights I haven been having... questionable dreams that I wake up every night confused."

"Your dreams has come back again? Why didn't you tell me or write to me?" He questioned.

"Well I didn't want to bother you, plus mother was there to aid me and she given me a tea that helped–"

"I would've flown out with Vhagar and take you back home if you were struggling; don't you remember what happened last time, you went through a seizure Eudora I thought... I thought I was going to loose you" he said perturbed. Eudora grew guilty as she began to see the worry in Aemond. He felt she didn't understand how much she meant to him, and he felt that him not being acknowledge about the issue made him assume that maybe she no longer needed him anymore. That maybe Aegon was right.

The anxiety begun to overcome him making the intrusive thoughts to invade him. Aegon voice was heard, then his bastard nephews and his father who did not want to spend dime with him. His mother voice calling out the maids to take Aemond as he could hear how she didn't want to be bothered by him. It was too much for him to handle that his legs began to give up on him making him fall on his knees.

Aemond for years felt like he was not needed. He was never needed by father nor his mother – not even his own sister. He felt he wasn't seen, he felt like a burden to everyone. He was only the second son, the fourth child of Viserys – what is he even needed for?

"Am I no longer needed?" He whispered.

"W-What? Aemond where is this comin – of course you are needed." Eudora began to panic as she could see that he was having another episode of anxiety. "Aemond look at me, what happened? What had Aegon tell you that is making you be this way. Aemond please, my love I worry for you... let me in" she begged.

"No... No I am a burden to you – I don't need your pity" he snapped.

"Aemond you are never a burden to me and what I give to you is not pity, but love. Aemond don't turn away from me – look at me" she grabbed his head forcing his eye to meet hers. "I see you Aemond Targaryen, I see you."

"You see me..." he was entranced by her voice.

"Yes, I see you" she gentle smiled. "You are seen, you are loved, you are worthy Aemond."

"I am?" He questioned.

"Yes my sweet, you are. You don't have to tell me what Aegon told you, you don't. Whatever it was don't let it consume you. Remember what I told you when we were little? People who are blinded by their insecurities would press them onto you to satisfy their ego, don't let their words trump you over my love. Don't let it."

Eudora fingers ran through his hair to comfort him. Her hands then traveled to his eye patch where she paused for a moment to ask him if it was okay, and when he nodded she took off his eye patch revealing the scar. He waited to see if she was going to back away by the scar that held a sapphire in his eye socket, but she didn't. Instead he saw the love in her eyes that never wavered.

"There would be people that will come into your life Aemond that would ravish to see you at your downfall. It will bring them pleasure knowing they have you by the neck where you are weak, and I tell you right now, don't let them. You may think yourself small, but I don't. I see a strong man who holds a sword that he dances so well with. The way he moves and the way he presents himself shows me how powerful of a character he is, that nothing and no one could ever stoop over his level.  However, I also see a lost man who tries too hard. Throughout your life Aemond you have train harder than anyone I've known. I see you screaming at them telling them you are worthy. I see that you try to be seen by those who barely glance your way. My love, don't be desperate; don't waste your time on those who barely even take a time out of their life to return the favor. You will never find what you want if you continue walking on this endless path. You must recognize yourself and reflect. You must meet yourself and mend. You must accept the ugly and the beauty of you.

Once you do that Aemond, others validations are insignificant. Their words are not even worth than your own." She pressed her hand against his heart, "Your heart and soul are the strongest armor you could ever have, and your mind is your sword. Use them. Accept who you are, don't let others rule over you, you are not their slave; you are in control of who you are and who you want to be... do you understand."

"I understand," he whispered. "Thank you."

"Promise me not to hide yourself when you're in pain, it's unfair that we laughed together but you cry alone."

"I promise. You are a gift Eudora, a rarity in this time that I am fortunate to be living in." Aemond continues to believe he has been saved by the angel in front of him, but Eudora did not save him she just found him. He needed to be found and appreciated for exactly who he was, and she doesn't mind if she had to look for him again in the dark. After all, he was the love of her life and someone with that title she will make sure of that.

"I have a gift for you" she said. She stood up from the ground made her way to her satchel where she takes a pouch. She made her way back and sat back herself down where she holds the pouch to him. "Take it."

Aemond obeys and opens the pouch. On the palm of his hand laid a ruby crystal. " I don't mind if you continue to put on the sapphire, but you have two options to choose for whatever occasion. The ruby was given to me from my father who given it to my mother. I thought I lost it and I remember crying to my father about it because we no longer matched. This whole entire time the my father had it put away" she giggled. "I guess he forgot to give it back to me."

"Why gift me something that is so precious to you?" he questioned.

"Because I already have this" she told him as she held the ruby necklace that's wrapped around her neck. "thanks to uncle daemon, he given me my fathers ruby as a token that means so much because it wraps all of my father memories. This necklace alone is precious to me. This ruby was original gifted from our grandmother who given to my father. She told him that to give this ruby only to someone you care deeply, so he given it to my mother. But when my mother passed away, he knew there is no other person he could hand this necklace to other than me because I was his last love. Similiar to what grandmother told him, he told it to me: give it to someone you care deeply about, the person who you love the most. So I thought of you."

"You love me?"

"Yes Aemond, I do."

Aemond looked back down at the ruby and he swore he saw a glint of light speck out of it. Aemond took off the sapphire from the socket of his eye, and place into the pouch that the ruby was once in. Aemond looked back at Eudora who watched him with gentle eyes, he brought the ruby to her "can you do the honors" he asked. With gentle fingers, Eudora placed the ruby into the socket of his eye, "How do I look?"

"Handsome like you always do" she said. "Now we match."

"I love you too," Aemond said. "With all of my heart."

Aemond brought her close to him and captured her lips. She sat on his lap and her arms wrapped around his neck. Aemond brought herself closer and tighten his grasp around her. When the two broke apart, Aemond nuzzled his head into the pocket of her neck as he inhaled her scent bringing him to a peaceful state.

The sapphire gifted by his mother was no longer going to be put back on, Aemond decided that he will have it put in a place somewhere in his room. He had something better and more meaningful that was gifted to the one wrapped in his arm.

His Eudora.

NEXT: CHAPTER FIVE

——————————-

TQOHH taglist:

@jugheadisaweirdo​, @caspianobsessed,

@xcharlottemikaelsonx, @zgzgzh​,

@sawendel​, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1​

[therobotmonster]

Sure! and remember, you asked for it @readasaur

I have a lot under the #tyrannomax tag, but the sum up is that it's a unreality fauxstalgia concept that exists both as a story and a meta-story around its creation:

TyrannoMax and the Warriors of the Core was a comic by Cocytus Comics, originally released in the 1970s, appearing alongside such characters as Farrah Fyendlyne: Familiar of Faust, the Tomorrownauts, and Johannes Factotum: Professor of (Practically) Everything. (My Secret Origin of Wally ManMoth Comic is here)

TyrannoMax is a dinoid from "The Fossilized World of M'nar" which was created when the cosmic radiation burst that killed the dinosaurs (the KT impact wouldn't be commonly accepted until well after the series started) created a layer of "fossilized time" producing a pocket universe that resembles a hollow earth, accessible through portals hidden underground.

When Dr. Myron Underfoot discovers one of these portals, he brings art student Wally Manheim with him to take field illustrations, as traditional film is fogged by the portal transition, and to be a guinea pig.

The portal doesn't kill Wally, and he's found by TyrannoMax and his friends. Max is the champion of the Core City of Ib, their bravest and most heroic warrior, and just a generally helpful guy.

Underfoot winds up stealing one of the sun-crystals that keep the fossilized world stable, and when he tries to take it back through one of the portals to the surface it explodes, transforming him into the dinoid-like Dr. Underfang, and trapping Max and his friends on Earth, where they battle Dr. Underfang, his genicarnated creations, and a host of other foes.

(My favorite of which is Dr. Underfang's gal Friday, Mrs. Nice/Mrs. Nautlius, whose origin is summed up in this PSA that ran in Cocytus books through the late 70s.)

In the 80s, Cocytus hit hard times and was bought out by Buzby-Spurlock animation, producing the cartoon series that this figure was merch for. The series introduced Max's cousin l'l Wrexy and a host of new toy-based characters, and upped the tech level so you could get cool vehicle toys.

TyrannoMax Himself:

A Bio-Card of Comics Max is Here.

Max is the leader of his team, the 10,723rd reincarnation of his line, and a skilled fighter, strategist, and dancer. He's the physically strongest member of his team (narrowly edging out BrontoSarah) and never met a boulder he didn't want to throw.

His psychic dinoid ability is the ability to psionically augment his roar by focusing his courage to produce a force-shockwave, his righteous anger to stun or induce fear in enemies, and his hope to augment the strength of his friends. Like all dinoids he can use his psychic potential to rapidly learn other languages, but his overall psychic affinity is lower than most and highly specialized into his roar.

Like all dinoids, Max is vulnerable to cold (lore was established in the 70s)

His dinonite sword cuts through steel as if it were particle board, and can parry physical and energy attacks. His armor is made from dinonite and Hydrasaurus leather, augmenting his already formidable dinoid toughness.

Max is a relatively young champion and augments his lack of experience by relying on the expertise and knowledge of his comrades. He, BrontoSarah and TriceraBruce are best friends forming an Id (Sarah), Ego (Bruce), SuperEgo (Max) triumvirate. Bruce is intellectual and methodical, Sarah is passionate and wise, and Max is the balance between them.

The quick sum up of his personality is Adam West's Batman if he had Hercules' skill set and love of physicality and a more wry sense of humor.

He has a friendly rivalry with DeinoSteve, who respects Max's abilities but feels he's not decisive or 'solution oriented' enough for his role. Steve uses Max having saved his life during their first encounter as an excuse to hang around, but really he likes the companionship.

He is friends with PteroDarla, but not as close as with Sarah and Bruce, with a sort of chummy-work-colleagues kind of relationship.

Max considers Wally, Wally's little brother Bobby, and l'l Wrexy to be his younger brothers or adoptive children depending on how much managing they need.

Max considers stopping Dr. Underfang and his Genincarnates his responsibility, since Underfang got his powers from the Fossilized World and reverse engineered his own transformation to create the genicarnation process.

He has other rivals as well, in the form of TyrannoXam (an evil clone created, mostly, (its complicated) by the Unnatural Selector), CeratoGaius (Wrexy's dad, Max's brother-by-marriage, and a rich jerk who thinks he should be champion), and the DireLord of Lemurmalia (Max's counterpart from a realm of ice-age mammal people), all of whom seek to prove their superiority to a guy who would love to be their friend if they weren't being jerks.

And no discussion of Max's foes would be complete without Maureen the Lizard Queen.

Maureen has the ability to control reptiles and has general purpose hypnotic powers, making her the Lizard Queen. To her logic, the queen of lizards deserves only the best consort, the "Tyrant Lizard King," in the form of TyrannoMax.

She calls him "Darling" and "Sugarfangs" and other cutesy names. Max finds her attentions flummoxing.

Max and Steve are more resistant to her powers than most ("Ugh, you've got too much bird in you!") but she also doesn't use her power on Max outside of a combat/escape context cuz she's not quite that much of a creep. Her non-stalking related escapades usually involve attempts to establish her Queendom in some populated area or doing jobs for Dr. Underfang in exchange for the creation of reptilian genincarnate henchmen for her.

In the 90s there was a movie.

TyrannoMax 2" Action Figure In-Progress Sculpt

The hands cooperated for a chunk of sculpting today.

Toy Max is based largely on the cartoon design, but in keeping with the mid-to-late 80s, he's going to be a little more detailed. He's in my personal favorite, Battle-Beasts-inspired aesthetic.

[purplefyragon]

The Story Doesn’t End Here

This is based off a dream I had a few months ago, around the time ISWM came out. Again, set in the universe where Actor is Engineer!Mark, etc. This time, it’s Y/N making a choice. This is weird. As usual, loathe entirely. Rating: General/SFW GN!Reader Pairings: Mild implied past DA/Damien, current implied Actor/YN Warnings: canon typical angry void men, eldritch fighting, gunshots (provided by Wilford), mild gore Word Count: 2300+

It happened quickly- the reality shift from ‘Celci’ and Mark arguing- her smacking him across the face- then the world around you glitches as her eldritch brother dragged the three of you out of Mark’s story dimension and into the greater void. 

The chill of the endless, black expanse is something that you had hoped you could forget by throwing yourself into Mark’s adventures. Sadly, it seems that Damien is here to wake you up from your escape. Yet…

Something is different.

Mark is visibly angry at his story being interrupted like this. He and Damien begin their raging at each other, quickly devolving to inhuman noises. They hurt to look at; the things hiding beneath their shells coming out to wage war against each other as their bodies degrade.

You watch Celine’s spiritual color flare with her brother’s strikes, her own body morphing and changing, almost fading at times. … She wouldn’t notice if you attacked her- if you could even touch her right now. You doubt you could.

There’s something wrong.

The void seems… malevolent, and not just to you either. The nightmarish realm twists and creaks around the four of you, Mark and Damien’s auras clashing in the air. They don’t seem to notice it, though. They're too focused on tearing each other apart to stop and realize their warring is shaking the very fabric of this unreality.

 Little cracks and slivers of light splinter across the black sky, and through them, you can see- you can see. 

It’s like looking back in time, watching all your adventures play out before you, no matter where you glance. And it isn’t just yours- you can see all that which Abe, William, and the other Egos have been up to as well. 

The deafening resound of multiple gunshots and screams bring you back to the present- specifically, the change in the screams: dual eldritch roars of agony warping back into human cries of pain. Mark and Damien disengage from each other, twisting masses of power and energy folding in on themselves as they regain their human guises. The source of the gunshots, William, stands by Celine with his pistol raised, pointed at the two of them. His pink aura overwhelms the area around the both of them in twisting, nauseating pink and yellow, making your head hurt to look at him.

Mark clutches his shoulder, black and red ichor dribbling down his arm and hitting the ground by his foot. Damien’s hand clamps over his side, shadowy trichromatic ooze leaking out and staining his white suit. Both men stare at the third, who just shrugs and smiles, apologizing to Damien and claiming that it’s a bit difficult to shoot when they look like that. 

Damien rages in the instant after that, aura twisting and pulsating, arching outwards and rushing at Mark like some solar flare snapping from the sun’s surface. It’s some arc of white-hot/frigid cold- a radiating, static shadow that carries an air of finality with it.

Finality. 

Mark’s words echo in your head. “I go and I come back and I go and I come back and I go but I always come back!” The rage and denial in his voice from that…

… Will he, from this? You’ve never seen him bleed like that before. Not like he is now. Not like this.

He doesn’t move despite the wall of energy running him down like a freight train. You don’t know if he can. Does he want to? Can he? Will he?

… What happens if he dies? Does his place this fall apart? Do you disappear? Do you go back into that damned mirror? Do you sleep? 

You lose all this. You lose him. 

N̴̦͍̟̲͋͌͜͜ŏ̵̙̥

Something snaps inside you- something long-strained within your very core shatters and an old, familiar rushing of shadow and power take its place. There is a new heaviness in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to think about that- the only thing you focus on is getting Mark out of the way of that goddamned aura- 

It’s an instant, really. One second, you are watching Mark, and the next, you are colliding with the solid body of the larger man- he’s at least a foot taller than you and dense, but you tackle him off his feet with ease- too much ease. The Actor yelps from the impact, but you don’t care, as you feel the radiating cold and stinging heat of the aura brush a bit too close to your back for any real comfort.

 You both fly at least 20 feet before he hits the ground with another loud grunt beneath you, sliding another few feet before coming to a stop.

You both pant heavily- you can tell he is in pain from the short way his breath hitches. He shouldn’t be in pain. With difficulty, you lift yourself up off of him, supporting your weight on your hands and knees- it is now that you notice his arms wrapped around your body. You pull back and study the man, finding those unnatural, burning eyes fluttering open and studying you with shock- a dozen different emotions flashing across his face.

By the way you feel, you believe the eyes he is looking back into are just as alien as his own, now. 

“Y/N… what-”

“What the HELL is wrong with you, Y/N?!” Damien and Celine both scream, voices crackling with the roar of the void. You can see Damien motioning strangely in your peripheral vision, reigning in his aura to attack again. William, meanwhile, is cackling about the odd turn of events. 

There’s no point in answering them just yet, instead you focus on the man below you. You can feel the strange motion of otherness shifting along the skin of your back- shadowy tentacles, most likely, judging by his eyes tracking them over your shoulder. Leaning in closer, you spread them out protectively over you both as you speak, quiet and private- just to him. 

“He’s not the only one walking around without blood on his hands.” You can hear the way your voice pitch changes, and you can’t find it in yourself to care.

His eyebrows lift up in surprise, the grip on your hips tightening slightly. Your hand touches his chest, the place you know Damien’s axe once hit home long ago.

“I know what you’ve done. I don’t care what you’ve done.” You murmur quietly and sit up a little, focusing on him as you adjust his tie and lapels, fixing them up. “We’ve all had wrongs perpetrated against us in this place, and we all want revenge for that no? But that’s all in the past, isn’t it?”

 You’re not really sure what possesses you to lean in and kiss his bloodied lips, but it feels right in a way. “I’m not ready to sleep yet, Mark. I don’t want it to end.”

You turn your head towards the trio, then, studying them individually, then meeting his again. “So I’m going to make sure that your story, our story, doesn’t end here.” You smile. “We still have so much to do, don’t we?” 

The shock finally subsides into something familiar. Something warm. Before he can respond to you, the aura whips above both your heads, shrieking through the void above you and returning to Damien. The look of contempt he is giving you is something you’ve seen before.

“So, you finally pick a side, do you, old friend?”

You slowly pick yourself up off of Mark, maintaining eye contact with the man. You sneer.

“You stole my body and left me to rot, Damien. Why are you surprised?”

“It was a mercy- we spared you from this Hell!'

“IT'S ALL HELL!” you sneer, “But, hell at his side is preferable to nothingness.”

The man that you once thought you could spend the rest of your life with sneers at you like you are no more than shit on his heel. It hurts, but you don’t care anymore. 

“Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll destroy the nightmare He has weaved and set you free.”

… You laugh. You laugh and laugh and laugh. Your stomach hurts and tears stream down your cheeks- even Mark looks at you with concern. You clutch at your stomach and wipe your tears away, fixing the ex-Mayor with a withering look that could melt steel.

"You think I'm going to let you hurt him? He is the ONLY reason I am free and I’m not going to let you take him from me."

His aura flares around him again while William lifts his gun. Damien sighs. You feel Mark shifting similarly beside you. The Actor laughs. 

“Unfortunately, it’s come to this. I’ll make it quick, old friend.”

You grin. 

“Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war, Damien."

Damien’s body flickers with his aura, destabilizing as it overtakes him once again, screaming in anger- and dismay. William’s aura, strangely, does the same- instead of firing on you or Mark, his aura gets twisted up with Damien’s, creating some insanity pinwheel of color and sound- which then rushes the two of you.

You brace, pulling at the heaviness within you and feeling the void respond, surrounding you in shifting, flickering shadows tinged with the color of your soul. That holds nothing to Mark’s smoky crimson aura which envelopes your own, surrounding you both as his hand wraps around your wrist. As you look to him in confusion, the grin he gives you is mischievous, knowing- plotting.

 You know that look. 

Mark winks at you, then suddenly pulls you into his arms, cradling you against his body. The contact just bolsters the shadows around you both, growing and shifting into some great tentacled thing- you can hear the void creaking and raging below and above as his laugh resounds around you. 

“You don’t want it to end, little monster? You want to stay with me?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face against his chest. He purrs, and you hear it underneath the cacophony around you. 

“When it hits, I want you to push with all you have. Understand? I’ll take care of the rest.”

You nod again, and… there’s suddenly a quiet- almost like the eye of a hurricane. His voice is soft, when he addresses you again.

“... I don’t want to end, either, Y/N. Our story won’t end here. We really do have so much still to do.” 

Of course you try to pull back to look at him because that’s Mark- that’s the old Mark- your friend from so long ago-

But the roar of the void slams back into everything all at once, almost deafening you to the point that you can barely hear him scream-

“N̵̝͈̓̆O̴̠̎W̵̳͗̎!̶͍͙̍”

You obey without thinking and push, and you feel a rush of energy bending the void around you almost like a shockwave, like the tensile weight of metal being put under pressure. Then you feel Mark- all of him pushing with you- the sound wave pressure buckles then rebounds with double the force, sending the cacophony back, and you in the other direction-

…

You realize a little too late that you’ve teleported, still clinging to Mark for dear life, face pressed into his neck, eyes shut. Releasing a breath you had been holding far too long, you pull back to look around, finding yourself in a grassy, flowering clearing in the middle of a forest. It’s early in the morning or evening by the color of the sky, shaded by overcast clouds, but not immune to the sun’s rays turning them a plethora of different colors. 

You turn your attention to the Actor still holding you. His eyes are still possessed of the void, though he regards you with a strange, warm curiosity now. Your hands slide down to rest on his chest, adrenaline, and anger bleeding into… embarrassment. Fuck, you really kissed him, huh? A blush spreads across your cheeks as his lips quirk into an interested smirk- but there’s that ever-present softness, still.

“... What was that back there, little monster?” His tone is teasing. Sing-songy. He’s going to address it- of course, he is- well-

You sputter and try to remove yourself from his arms, but his grip does not slacken. He practically forces you to look at him by taking hold of your jaw and tilting your head up. “I- … a lot happened back there, and I-”

The man huffs and presses his lips to yours, as if to remind you of exactly what he means. He doesn’t pull away immediately either, coaxing you to respond to him.

You do, and only then does he slowly draw away, speaking softly against your lips. “The kiss, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Now is not the time to be playing coy with me. Not anymore.”

You… really don’t see the reason for lying anymore.

“... I had- complicated feelings for you in college. It developed into… something, but by then, you had eloped with Celine, and- …” You look away. “I get to have you, here. If not in that way, then I get to do all these adventures with you. I get to be with you. That’s… that’s why. I didn’t know how to express it at the time.” 

He draws back and watches you with an unreadable expression while you explain. You see his pupils flex in a strange, catlike way the further you go along, and by the time you finish, he scoffs softly in a strange way, considering you. 

“.... Perhaps, if I had followed through with my own feelings then, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

You blink. Wait.

What-

“But… As you said, our story wasn’t going to end there.” He smiles at you, drawing you close to him again and cupping your cheek. You blink again. Ah-

“What’s say we add a little more personal, intimate touch to our story, hm? What say you, Dove?”

Your heart clenches at the old nickname- his nickname for you from college.

Oh.

Absolutely.

[apollostears]

SEX WITH ME [ k. nanami ]

↬︎ anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

↬︎ pairing: nanami kento x fem!black!reader

↬︎ warning(s): swearing, nsfw, dub-con, leash, choking, slight somnophilia, pet play (if you squint), dom!nanami sub!reader, mentions of gojo

PLOT. headcanons on how nanami is sexually ;)

*picture not mine*

nanami is pure animal...like i don't know how else to explain it

okok lemme break it down. he radiates big dom energy. like even if you were a dom yourself, he’s the type you’d be submissive for. “lemme have yo babies” type shit.

he’s a little reserved in how dominant he really is until his partner makes it known that they like it S&M rihanna style.

his FAVORITE position honestly might be reverse cowgirl. and i say this becauseeee it would be after he’s already fucked the feeling out your legs so you’re struggling to stay in that position, but you’re also too damn horny to stop.

your moans and whimpers are *chef’s kiss* to him as he bounces you with his hands planted on curve of your ass. AND he gets to see all the cream you’re making on his dick too?? oh baby, mans is in heaven.

he definitely has a superiority kink. meaning he loves feeling like he’s in charge of/taking care of you. i.e. “daddy” “sir” “captain” whatever (but no master shit).

a hundred percent has a breeding kink. you are literally kidding yourself if you think otherwise. mans will have you in the mating press at least once every time you let him hit it raw. he may not ever say it to you outside the bedroom, but he’s def hoping to knock you tf up.

is such a brat tamer OH MY GODDDDD it’s unreal.

act up, you can get snatched up; that’s his motto for you. you’ve definitely tried it before just to see what he’d do.

—christian grey ain’t got shit on this nigga 💀

i mean you still try his shit now n’ then but wheew you definitely don’t go to the extent you did the first time. had you out bad for two weeks. gojo totally knew it was because of nanami and he now gives y’all suggestive eyebrows every time you got a lil pimp in yo walk.

while he’s rough in bed, he can be gentle as well. i think nanami is the type to value passionate, raw, and gentle love making to the max. like, yes he loves being daddy dom watching you fall apart as he pounds into you for the countless time that night. but he adores intertwining your hands together and leaving love bites on your skin as he makes you cry in pleasure from the orgasm he gives you out of love.

loves having something to grip. whether it be your hips, thighs, ass, tits, love handles, or stomach, he just wants to be able to hold something on your body so he can rail into you better.

is not above using toys. mainly likes vibrators and maybe butt plugs if y’all get to that stage in your sexual life. definitely has a pair of remote-controlled panties for you whenever you fuck up.

LOVES COLLARS OMG!!!! will only use them when y’all have the time to actually do some dedicated foreplay because he wants to really cherish the moment.

into costumes but nothing too extreme. likes the good ole’ maid one. maybe a cat too. will go feral for you in nothing but an apron as you offer him a pan of sweets/breads. you getting yo shit milked fr.

follow up on positions: his favorite positions definitely have to be; mating press, missionary, reverse cowgirl, doggy, spooning, and when you lay flat on your stomach with him looming over you.

the spooning position happens when mornings are slow to start. he’s up a little early than normal and today was an off day for the both of you. nanami loves to watch you sleep. never in a creepy way, instead in adoration. your lives are not ideal and he never knows what’s to come so he loves staring at you any chance he gets. you were wearing one of his casual shirts. hair in a bonnet and mouth open, you were dead asleep. with steady hands, nanami lightly brushed your skin, tracing the curves of your hips under the shirt before venturing higher to cup your breast. with one arm propped under his head, the other found solace in the warmth of your flesh. chest against back, nanami had caged you into him. carefully, he played with your nipple of your left breast. twisting, pinching, rubbing...until he could see the goosebumps rise on your skin. his cock was hard and strained against his boxers as he leaned down and began peppering kisses along your neck. nanami loved fucking you awake. it was the way you always woke up with a confused but pleasure filled face. the way your pussy never failed to take him even when you were barely awake. he loved the slick that would stick to your panties when he’d pull them to the side to slip into you. most importantly, he loved the sunlight that would radiate your skin like the angel that you were.

he’ll fuck you straight into the mattress when you piss him off. it’ll start as a doggy position but the harder he pistons in you and the weaker you get, you end up on your stomach completely. legs given out and mind too foggy to care, you lay as you let nanami put you in your place. fuck you into submission for giving him attitude, in front of gojo of all people. the incoherent babbles of words and broken moans are his favorite. he adores the mark s littering your shoulder blades and the rolls of your skin as he grips them for leverage. and when you clamp down on him for the third time, cumming hard from the orgasm, he’s in love.

missionary almost always turns into the mating press. things start off a little desperate when he gets home from a month long mission. gojo was his partner and you know how that goes. he wanted to fuck you so hard that night but the moment he sees your burst into tears, all his misdirected anger dissipates. you were worried about him. no matter how strong the two of them may be, you always worried for nanami’s safety and when you couldn’t get in contact with him his last week on the mission (courtesy of gojo making him drop his phone in the sewer) your mind was racing with the worst thoughts. you don’t remember how the two of you ended up in bed with nanami kissing on your skin and you wilting under his touch. your hands roamed everywhere on his body, careful of the new bruises that were present. he’d fuck into you slowly but sharp. taking his time pulling out and going in, mumbling how much he loves you into your skin and you crying out how much you missed him. then, the mood would change; from longing to love. he’d have your legs by your head and hands under your knees in seconds. mouth on yours, he’d move in n’ out of you with a bruising pace but gentle at the same time. this fuck was different because this time you guys were making love with the desire of creating life. maybe it was the time spent away from you. or maybe it was the minute he saw your tears, but nanami knew for sure that he would be damned if he left this earth without putting a baby in you. and that night, he did.

following up on costumes, but nanami is totally into you wearing lingerie or wearing nothing on but his tie as he uses it as leash while rearranging your guts.

definitely into exhibition. especially if it means fucking you in front of gojo, someone who has a hard time keeping his eyes to himself.

will spank tf outta you but unless his dick is rearranging your guts, that’s as far as he goes for impact/pain play.

definitely not into huge messes. i.e. food play, blood play, etc.

he will spit in your mouth though. i’ll die on that hill wholeheartedly. nanami also loves cumming on your body too. whether it be your ass, face, stomach, or tits he’s down for the cause.

when it’s all said and done, nanami loves his baby and will do anything for you. while he loves fucking you, aftercare takes the cake. he will pamper you to no end and always coddle you like a baby. those moments are some of y’all’s softest and it’s the biggest time where you both feel the most love between one another.

❧ join our taglist: @knjkitten @sweeneyblue1 @simplyskz-maya @pimpnameyannie @supop @sunrayyellowhalo @exomama-random @namjoonswifeyy

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

[catboymafia]

(Unrebloggable post)

Mental illness does things like make you think you have special secret true information that contradicts mainstream narratives. I thought the masons were putting human parts in grocery store products, ye thinks hitler was misunderstood. The elaborate processing of information through psychosis is obscured except for the resulting output. We dont know why he arrived at this false conclusion and are unlikely to find out until or unless he explains that (eg) dragon energy is sending him messages from god and actually hitler was a pacifistic figurehead and wanted to found a new isreal for the jewish diaspora in madagascar before the party faction controlled by ernst rohm created the concentration camp plan and shifted focus to ethnic cleansing. From the perspective of "a ghost told me he was just a fallguy but he's still in soft hell trying to earn his wings by helping antinazis in the living world because he was still a collaborator and he helps jewish kids give class speeches now and i astral projected and watched once", his comments would make sense. That is mental illness.

We should probably open up the conversation about how conservatives sprinkle psychosis triggers into their culture warring, and these sprinkles create a background radiation of facsist conspiracy mythology that seems to have a special magnetism for the obsessive thinking of people experiencing psychosis. It is easy to get pipelined into qanon territory from any given rabbithole. And this seems to be an intentional weaponization of mental illness against the mentally ill. The mainstream dialogue has no form of compassionate support aimed at addressing or deescalating this process.

A fair intervention is looking for impartial sources that introduce a sense of unreality to the psychotic delusion (which feels hyper-real when uncontested); eg does ye agree that hitler wrote mein kampf or was that ghostwritten by ernst rohm? If hitler wrote it you cant say he didnt hate jewish people, and hating jewish people was demonstrably not good for germany, so what gives with saying anything to the contrary? Catching vibes? Seeing what happens? Thatd be stimulation seeking, self-destructive recklessness; depression copes plus psychosis. We can blame people for their struggles or we can be more solipsistic; struggle is going to be "inappropriate" a lot at this juncture, its early on in the awokening. In a case like ye's where he's seeming to be taking on new beliefs that are bizarre and its during a time of extreme personal stress, i think we can kind of rule out "he was always hateful and these are his core beliefs coming out", and yet people are acting like his present state is interchangeable with that scenario morally and reacting from that perspective. I debate how woke this is.

[itsallyscorner]

just like magic with marvel cast, the vibe is----- a perfect song for a lil b*tch with a good heart and a sarcastic mouth

just like magic is the song we ALL need for 2020😌 Start manifesting ya’ll🖤 Also thank you sm for the request I am so so sorry this took so freakin’ long😭 Love u, happy reading🖤🖤 Tried to add my own lil twist to your request:)

(A lil different from the request, but I tried to make the reader have a bit sas.)

💌.

just like magic

Growing up within the Marvel Cinematic Universe was probably one of things you were most grateful for. When you first started out you weren’t that social. You were new to the business, you didn’t know anybody and you were intimidated by every single actor you crossed paths with.

At first you didn’t feel like you fit in. You felt as if you were a burden to everyone else. You barely talked to anyone which made the others approach you out of force by the Russos. Everyone around you was talented while you were just some newcomer who had jack shit as experience. The first few years you were insecure of yourself mentally and physically. You weren’t as pretty or fit as the other women in the MCU nor did your skills live up to theirs. Which led to some unhealthy habits. Plus there were haters and movie critics who would say horrible things about you and your acting.

You had a rocky start unlike Tom Holland and even Lexi Rabe. Until one day when you realized that you had to change how you were thinking. It took you a while but all that negative thinking you were doing was only bringing you negative energy. So when you had a break from filming movies, your number one goal was to improve yourself.

Wake up in my bed, I just wanna have a good day (Mmm, ah)

Think it in my head, then it happens how it should, ayy

Twelve o'clock, I got a team meeting, then a meditation at like 1:30

Then I ride to the studio listening to some shit I wrote (Oh)

You woke up with smile on your face in a sense of calmness. The sun shined bright hues into your room as you got up from your bed. Today was the first day back on set. You guys were finally filming Civil War and you were honestly so excited. As you did your morning routine, you went over how the day would go in your head. You’re genuinely excited to see the entire cast. It has been almost half a year since you’ve seen everyone and you couldn’t wait to be back.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror. Compared to the previous year, you looked and felt healthy. Your eyes shined and you looked well relaxed. You know like one of those face cleanser commercials? That’s how you felt. You felt like a breath of fresh air.

The ride to the studio took a good 30 minutes but it felt like seconds. You entered the set with a new sense of confidence and pride. The energy was practically radiating off you.

“(Y/n)?” You hear someone call from behind you. You turn around and see Scarlett looking at you.

“Hey!” You greet her as you approach her. You pulled her into a hug, startling her.

“Oh! Hello to you too, honey.” She laughed as she wrapped her arms around you. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great! Life’s been good.” You answer as a toothy grin graces itself on your face. Scarlett’s eyes are filled with shocked. From the previous times she’s talked to you she’s never seen you so loud or open. You were always shy and closed off from everyone on set.

Good karma, my aesthetic (Aesthetic)

Keep my conscience clear, that's why I'm so magnetic

Manifest it (Yeah), I finessed it (I finessed it)

Take my pen and write some love letters to Heaven

Eventually everyone on set caught on to your new attitude. Though they tried to be discreet about their reactions and shocked expressions, you could still see how they were caught off guard by your sudden change of nature.

Anthony watched as you conversed with Elizabeth and Scarlett on the couch in Robert’s “village” . You were probably the most smiliest person in the room beating Evans, who was eating his lunch.

“She’s like different. But in a good way. It’s like she’s bloomed.” Anthony thought out loud to the men beside him. Chris (E) and Sebastian look in your direction.

“Bloomed?” Chris snorted as he swallowed his food.

“Yeah, like she’s growing into a woman.” Anthony hummed proudly as he went back to his own lunch. Sebastian smiled at you, “I think she’s gained some confidence in herself and finally realized how good of a person she is.”

“If she’s finally realized that, I’m glad she did. She’s like a ball of sunshine, it’s adorable.” Chris smiled proudly at you as your hands move around animatedly while explaining some story to the two women in front of you.

“Y’all think it’s a boy?” Anthony wondered. Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend. Before he can even respond Anthony is calling you over. You approach the men with a smile and take a seat beside Sebastian.

“What’s up?” You greet them. Chris nods at you as he chews on his sandwich. Sebastian greeting you with a quiet “hey”.

“So who’s the lucky man?” Anthony asks teasingly. Your brows knit together head tilting to the side.

“Man?”

“Yes man, or boy, whatever. Who’s got you feelin’ yourself, (y/n).” Anthony wiggles his brows as he shimmies closer to you. Sebastian, who’s in between you two, cringes at the man to his left.

You didn’t take any offense to the question, knowing that everyone was curious as to why you were so unlike yourself.

You chuckled before smirking at the older man, “Anthony, honey. I don’t need a man to be feelin’ myself. I did this on my own.”

Chris and Sebastian’s mouth drop at your answer. Chris laughed as he pointed out Anthony’s face. Sebastian slung an arm around your shoulder bringing you into a side hug as he laughed with Chris.

“To be fair” Chris began to say but started to laugh, “To be fair, you deserved that.” Anthony’s face went flushed as he nodded to himself. You suddenly felt bad that you put him on the spot.

“Alright, stop laughing at him.” You playfully glare at Chris and Seb. You poke Anthony’s arm, “To answer your question, I’ve just been working on myself. Thinking more positively, I even tried manifestation.”

“You know what, that’s good. You’re taking care of yourself mentally and physically. I’m proud of you for doing this for yourself, we all are.” Anthony tells you as he motions to the two other men.

You look at all three of them, all of them looking at you with pride, “Thanks guys.”

Just like magic (Baby), just like magic (Oh yeah)

Middle finger to my thumb and then I snap it

Just like magic (Yeah), I'm attractive (Oh yeah)

I get everything I want 'cause I attract it (Oh)

As the months passed, the more you evolved into another version of you. You walked with determination, carried yourself with such grace and you’ve gained confidence in your career. You didn’t let your insecurities get to you, instead you faced them and overcame them. You were tired of letting them control you.

Your change in attitude and perspective on life has definitely affected your life in many ways. Manifestation was one of the things that have helped you the most. Writing about your goals and putting that energy out to the world has helped you persevere in your job. You’ve only faced good karma; sending out positive energy and receiving it back from the universe.

So far you’ve been casted in two new projects and have a campaign lined up with Gucci. If you were told a year ago that you’d be working with big time directors and freakin’ Gucci, you wouldn’t have believe them. Life has been unreal ever since you decided to change your life around. But of course you had to thank your Marvel family, without them and their support you probably wouldn’t haven gotten to where you were today.

Looking at my phone, but I'm tryna disconnect it (Oh yeah)

Read a fuckin' book, I be tryna stay connected (Yeah)

Say it's tricky at the top, gotta keep a slim ego for a thick wallet

Losing friends left and right, but I just send 'em love and light (Oh)

As many people recognized your success many people still tried to pull you down. Some fans on social media have noticed your change in behavior and have even praised you for practicing self care. While others still tried to push you off the mountain of success you were currently on and drag you across the ground.

These were the reasons as to why you were barely on your phone anymore. You used to be invested in your phone but after realizing how much negativity it brought you, you’ve decided to slowly disconnect from it. Which led you to becoming more interested into books.

Chris (E) had even brought some of his favorite arts of literature for you to borrow. You were currently on your third book of his, Sapiens A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari. You were sitting outside your trailer in a fold up chair under the shade. Your peacefulness was interrupted by Tom (Holland) who had a worried expression on his face.

“Have you not seen it yet?” He asked you as soon as he was in front of you. Being the two most youngest actors on the current set, you guys were closer to each other than with the adults.

“Seen what, Tommy?” You put a finger in between the pages you were reading to save your spot. Tom pulls his phone out and began to type. He tapped on his screen and turned the screen to you.

“She’s been talking crap about you for days.” You read the article and saw that one of your “friends”, Sabrina has been speaking out about your success and how it’s changed you as a person.

“She’s going off about how the more money you get in your wallet, the more bratty and arrogant you become.” He grumbled as he turned his phone off.

“I could care less, honestly. I know I haven’t done anything to her and if I did I was unaware of it. Plus, she stopped talking to me after I said I couldn’t get her a part in a movie.” You shrugged as you placed a proper bookmark in the book.

“You’re not upset?”

“I mean it’s sad that she’s acting so two faced. But if that’s how she wants to roll, then be my guest. It’s her loss, not everyone has great taste.” You flicked a piece of hair away from your face with your hand.

“You’re not gonna release a statement against her?”

“No, probably just wish her well with her life and move on with my own.” You answered much to Tom’s dismay.

Redesign your brain, we gon' make some new habits

Just like magic (Just like magic), just like magic

Filming has officially ended a few months ago and now you guys were doing press tour for Civil War. Before you were the new and improved version of yourself, you dreaded press tours. Some interviewers were nice and respectful, but there were those who would ask inappropriate questions and were just rude in general. All you could remember during those past tours was wanting to leave those rooms as soon as possible.

The q&a panel at New York had a packed room. There were many journalist crowded in the room shoulder to shoulder. You were sat in between Elizabeth and Scarlett, two of the women who have been guiding you and teaching you about life as a woman in the business. They were also like your older sisters.

The panel had been going smoothly for the first half hour until a man with a snobby face and cocky demeanor approached the mic.

“Hello, I’m Keith and my question’s for (y/n).” He began. You nodded in his direction, motioning for him to continue.

“I think everyone’s noticed how you’ve changed and developed as a person. Obviously something’s changed in your life. So I want to know if you’ve had any intimate relationships with any of the men in the cast?” You were surprised at the man’s question. First it was bold of him to ask such a question and second it was just disrespectful to you and the others on the cast.

“I mean someone’s gotta be fucking you good to make you crawl out your shell.” The man finished shrugging nonchalantly. Robert was about to interject but your mouth was quicker than his. The men of the cast were disgusted at the man while they sat at the edge of their seats.

“Well last time I checked my contract, my job was to act, not sleep around with the men who are part of these movies.” You spoke into the mic. All the attention was on you while the room was at a standstill.

“It’s also very upsetting that you think a girl needs to be fucked in order to be confident in herself. I hate to break it to you but women are completely capable of turning their lives around without the help of men and that says a lot about you, sir. So if I were you, I’d take myself back to my seat and rethink my life because if one of us has to redesign our brains it’s you.” You finished as you placed your mic on your lap. The room was silent until the cast began to clap. This was your first time standing up for yourself, usually Robert or Scarlett would swoop in and save you but this time, you were saving yourself.

You shook your head as you blushed, shoving your head in your hands. You felt some pats on the backs and cheers from your dysfunctional family. You look up and see Scarlett and Elizabeth smiling at you proudly.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Robert asked the crowd as he hugged you. The crowd cheering you on.

Just like magic, your life felt like a dream come true, knowing that you were worth it and enough for the people around you and for yourself.