#there also is a Martin in the Lonely one I did

[therainbowtea]

Garticphone got a bit silly goofy on my end. My poor poor friends who don't know TMA were very confused, but oh well >:)

[abelllia]

Transcript:

[From MAG 92]

Elias (Statement): -if I leave a letter here, in your institute, you might find it, you might be able to save me. I have no other hope. I have no other hope. Please, Jonah, if you have any compassion within your heart, you will not leave me in this place. Your loyal servant, Barnabas.

Elias: Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, Jon. He got the letter, oh yes, and was on good terms with Mordechai Lukas. He could have interceded, perhaps even saved him, but he did not. And it was not out of malice, or because he lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look.

No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all.That’s what this place is, Jon, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard.

[From MAG 159]

Jon: Martin. He’s gone, Martin. He – he’s gone. 

Martin: His only wish was to die alone.

Jon: Tough. Now – listen to me, Martin. Listen.

Martin: Hello, Jon.

Jon: Listen, I know you think you want to be here, I know you think it’s safer, and well – well, maybe it is. But we need you. I need you.

Martin: No, you don’t. Not really. Everyone’s alone, but we all survive.

Jon: I don’t just want to survive!

Martin: I’m sorry.

Jon: Martin. Martin, look at me. Look at me and tell me what you see.

Martin: I see…

I see you, Jon.

I see you.

Jon: Martin.

Martin: I… I was on my own. I was all on my own.

Jon: Not anymore. Come on. Let’s go home.

Martin: How?

Jon: Don’t worry. I know the way.

[CLICK]

End Transcript

Going insane about this for a multitude of reasons

[norrizzandpia]

Used (LN4)

Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.

Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings

Note: im very sorry for this one

Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s

When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.

“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.

She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.

At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.

Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.

Her first friend in Formula One.

Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.

“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.

“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.

And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.

They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.

The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”

At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”

Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”

“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.

Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”

“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.

“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.

“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.

“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.

The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.

“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.

Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”

His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.

“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”

His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”

—

“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.

She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”

He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”

After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.

Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.

They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.

His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.

“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.

He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”

Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”

“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.

She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”

A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”

This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.

“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.

Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.

“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.

Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.

“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.

“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”

He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”

Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”

His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”

His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.

“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.

However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”

She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.

Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.

—

“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”

Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”

“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.

“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”

“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.

“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.

Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.

He had.

“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”

“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.

Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”

The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”

Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”

—

Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.

“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.

“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.

Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”

She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.

Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.

“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.

Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.

“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.

She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.

—

Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.

When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.

The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.

Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.

Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.

“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.

Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.

“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.

She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”

His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”

Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.

“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.

“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.

“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”

He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.

“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.

“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”

With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.

For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.

[lostwords-found]

So that last post by Alesis Newman, the one that was locked by "BetterTheNew", was dated January 3 2018. Eight months before her previous post.

The police files on Dr Samuel Webber were dated April 3 2009. Eight months before the date in his journal.

Dr Samuel Webber murdered his ex and then was turned into a tree. We don't know what happened to Alesis Newman's ex before she turned herself into some kind of coral creature, but she was taking bereavement leave at the end. Out of death, something is trying to be born. Or reborn...

...Oh yeah, and let's not even go near this other (lonely, eye-encrusted) rabbithole, let alone down it:

Norris read Dr. Webber's case, about a man who murdered his lover rather than lose her and then was trapped alone in a walled garden, in denial about what he had done and eternally haunted by her voice, with only a small piece of himself remaining aware and perpetually terrified but unable to voice its fear. Cool! Yeah. That's definitely... that's definitely not significant or deeply upsetting in any way.

But Chester... Chester read Alesis Newman's case, about a woman who intentionally destroyed herself in the wake of a lover whom she saw as trying to change her into the person he wanted her to be--and replaced herself with something new and inhuman. Something that has her eyes.

And by post 13, using her paralysis computer, Alesis is writing with her eyes. So is that actually her writing? If it's not, when in that sequence of posts did it stop being her? What does "no longer her" actually mean in this context? Certainly, she's becoming something that the Alesis of eight months earlier, the Alesis of the immediately-deleted fourteenth post, would no longer identify with--if some part of her still existed.

Cool. Yeah. That's definitely not significant... or deeply upsetting... in any way.

OK but I said let's not go down that rabbithole, so let's forget I just said any of that and go back to talking about the post dates, yeah?

Yeah.

So, sometimes some of these cases have some interesting correspondences with TMA statements, so there might be something there. Alesis started that thread, opening up to everyone about her journey to creating a better her, on June 20, 2018. I wonder if there were any TMA statements dated June of 2018?

Case #0181206 (June 12, 2018)

Statement of unknown bystander regarding an encounter with The Archivist.

...Oh.

Okay, well, that's... interesting, but not necessarily meaningful. Let's try this: the last date in her transformation/replacement, the last point where maybe there was still something left of the original "her," was September 3, 2018. Anything interesting happen in TMA in September of 2018?

Case #0182509-A (September 25, 2018)

Original recording of events leading to the disappearances of Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Alice Tonner and Peter Lukas.

...Ah. Ha. Um. Well, that could also be an interesting coincidence. What about that deleted 14th post that was somehow eight months earlier, back in January? The one with an Alesis who still tried to cry out against the thing she was becoming?

There's nothing in January, but... oh... right.

Case #0170908 (August 7, 2017 )

Statement of Elias Bouchard, regarding the dreams of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive.

...

Case #0181502 (February 15, 2018)

Statement of Oliver Banks, regarding his dreams and trying to run away. Statement given directly to Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive.

...January of 2018, Jonathan Sims was in a coma. September of 2018, the Archivist received the final mark that would enable Jonah's ritual.

January through September of 2018 in the world of Protocol, something was trying to be born into a physical form, replacing Alesis Newman.

Cool, I say through gritted teeth. Yeah. That's definitely not significant, or deeply upsetting, in. any. way.

[sowhat-whynot]

Cop Hamzah!

bf!hamzah x fem reader

18+/nsfw

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

Hamzah was out making a skit with Martin, leaving you home alone. Long video shoots take awhile to film so you don’t even bother telling your boyfriend to hurry and come home. You were lonely and bored, so you decide to make Hamzah his favorite dinner to surprise him, when we got home.

A while later, you heard the front door shuffling open making your smile grow. You set the mixing spoon down to greet Hamzah.

“Hi, my love” Hamzah said pulling you into a tight hug.

“I missed you” you kissed him on the lips.

“Did you?” He giggled while you nodded in response.

“How’d the video go?” You asked while resuming back to your cooking.

“Y/n the video turned out so funny! The whole thing was improv and it took one take! I can’t wait for it to be uploaded” He laughed, remembering how him and Martin were.

“Oh my god I can’t wait to watch” you let out a giggle.

“Also, I love this outfit on you. I think it’s doing something to me” You said looking at your boyfriend’s cop uniform.

“Seriously? Or is that a joke”

“It’s kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie.” You looked up at him and ran your hand on his chest.

“I’m glad you think so. You can call me officer Blumquist” he said.

You look at him, cringing a bit. “Hamzah I’m not calling you that…” you laughed.

He laughed a bit then lifted your chin up making you look at him and he slowly pulled you into a kiss. One thing you noticed about Hamzah’s kisses were that he always went kinda rough. So desperate. You love it and it only made you want him more. Your lips parted and let out sweet moans. The noises you let out turned him on so much.

“Babe, I need you” you panted.

“You’ve been bad, I see” he said keeping up with the bit.

“I’m a good girl, officer. I swear” you played along. You placed your hand gently on his abdomen and traced it down to the handcuffs that were dangling on his belt loop. You looked up at him signaled that you wanted them on you.

“I think Imma need to pat you down, you know, just to make sure you don’t have anything on you” he turned you around and started at the bottom of your legs and made his way up to your waist. His hands groped your breast making you hum in pleasure.

“I didn’t find anything. I just wanted you feel you” he whispers making you shiver.

You turned around to face him and planted kisses on his neck. You noticed his glasses and you proceeded to take them off. “Hamzah please” you begged. “I want you in me” you continued. Your bodies were so close, you could feel his erection growing hard. You raised your right leg to wrap around his body, which took him over the edge.

He snaked his hands around your body and eventually took your top off. That small tank wasn’t covering anything, anyway. He usually handled you with such care, but right now, he’s being rough. Your frail body was turned over to the kitchen counter and Hamzah bent you over a tad bit.

“Hamzah fuck me, I’m yours” you whimpered.

“Be patient, beautiful” he smirked at the fact that he had so much control over you.

Seconds later, you felt his hands fondling with your ass. His pointer fingers hooked at the waist band of your shorts and underwear and pulled them down, in one motion. You bent down lower, to give him a better view of your plump ass.

“You’re so wet for me already, darlin?” He asked as his point and middle finger played with your glistening pussy. “God, I can’t wait to feel you around me” he added. The sound of his belt buckle coming undone made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He unzipped his pants and pulled them down, to release his hard cock. His tip slowly entered you making you moan his name out in pleasure.

“Fuck, y/n how are you already so tight, didn’t i just fuck you the other day?” He groaned.

He watched as his cock disappeared more and more into you. Your entire upper body gave up and eventually plopped flat onto the kitchen counter. The cold surface stings your body but your mind’s too busy on Hamzah.

You let out a moan at the satisfying stretch and his warm hands were gently placed on your lower back for reassurance. His pace quickened, with each thrust and the sound of skin clapping filled the room.

Hamzah noticed that you were struggling to keep a grip on the glossy counter, so he grabs your arms and places them on your back. He grabs your wrists and cuffs them tightly with the handcuffs.

“Ah- Hamzah! Mmm fuck” you cried out.

His head rolled back, while keeping his pace fast. “Shit…” he mumbled. He picked his head back up and watched as he pulled his cock out from you. You whine at the funny feeling but are ultimately cut off from him re entering back into you. He shoves himself into your wet pussy, earning loud and sweet noises from you. “Fuck- fuck- Hamzah harder please!” You beg as he fucks himself harder into you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” he said as his large hand smacks your ass.

“Babe, I’m close! Please don’t stop” you tell him as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. After a few more deep thrusts, you release around him. You two are a moaning mess and he eventually pulls out to cum on your ass. He groaned and cursed under his breath, as he jerked himself.

Hamzah took a minute to calm himself down then he grabbed the small keys from his pocket to un cuff your wrists from the handcuffs. He knows how to properly care for you, especially after sex. He cleans you up and gently pulled your shorts back on followed by a slap on your ass.

“Ow baby” you giggle. You picked yourself up and kissed him on the lips. “I love you” you ran your fingers in his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Hamzah smiles and zips his pants back up. You look into each other’s eyes it feels like you’re in heaven. After a while of being in each other’s arms, you tell him you made him his favorite meal, which excites him.

“I hope i didn’t burn it. Oops” you joked while placing the plate in front of him.

“Thank you for making this for me!” He said with a big smile. “You’re so cute” you reply as he makes you sit on his lap. You watch him as he enjoys the food.

You thought to yourself “he just fucked me in a cop outfit and now he’s acting like a baby”

“Are you keeping this?” You ask referencing to the cop outfit.

“Probably not, there’s no use for it anyway” He replied as he ate the yummy chicken.

“Wait! I know you want me to keep it!” he laughed.

“Freaky girl” He pinched your cheek.

“Stop! I know you liked it too” you flick his forehead.

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

officer blumquist 😭😭😭😭

Srry if this is bad :p

[autisticsupervillain]

Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread

The Eye

Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher

You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING

"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"

I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.

"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."

I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.

The Web

I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.

I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.

If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.

I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.

"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood

The Stranger

I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.

If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.

Theater Kid

How do you Normal Human?

The Anatomy Class.

Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.

Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.

Being subtly off is too subtle for me.

The Lonely

"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."

Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.

Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.

Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.

The fog is your friend.

The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.

The Dark

Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.

Night Owl.

Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.

Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.

The dawn is your enemy.

The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.

Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.

The Spiral

Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.

Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?

Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.

Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?

I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.

I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.

Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.

What Is Time?

What Is Me?

The Gender

Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?

The Flesh

Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.

Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.

Will never try any other foods. Too picky.

Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.

Hates PETA.

Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?

Working out is a great stim.

The Corruption

Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.

"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"

Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.

According to all known laws of aviation-

Relationship boundaries struggles.

Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.

Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*

Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.

Forgot vital hygiene needs.

The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!

The Buried

Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.

Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.

101 facts about worms.

Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.

Digging a hole is good stimming.

That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?

The End

Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com

That's it, that's the list.

The Desolation

The Autism Temper.

Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.

The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.

Just watching candles melt for hours.

The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.

Jude Perry.png

The Vast

Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.

The stimulus of falling.

Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.

Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.

Weirdly enough... power scaling?

Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.

Brain empty, only terminal velocity.

The Hunt

Cat Autism

The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.

Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.

I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.

Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.

That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.

It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.

The Slaughter

The incredible human WW1 documentary.

"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*

Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.

The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)

The Extinction

The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.

It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.

You Will Make Them Care.

[mikasnazz]

Posting the autographs I got at the festival [which I am sosososo grateful for, Anusia & Ryan & Shahan are the sweetest and I’m so glad I got the chance to meet them!!] a with a little ramble underneath [i swear it’s something!]

There was a great Q&A held where people honestly asked fantastic questions I wouldn’t have thought of, I had my hand raised but honestly the only question I could think of in the moment was did Colin eat his fish.

He totally did, if you ask me, anyway

Back in the hotel and KICKING myself over forgetting my biggest question / thought about the Magnus universe in general, so I’m gonna share it!;

The extinction was made prominent as an up and coming fear in archives, obviously, and it was also made clear that there was no counter power or whatever — until protocol.

Jon, The Archivist, Chester, whatever you see them as, is the extinction. Ready to end everything for everyone on a whim.

Martin, Norris, A Vessel To The Lonely, the opposite.

Yes, he spread the fear — but he also spread humanity, humanity thrives and grows and is meant to be shared, and it is far from perfect.

Martin is humanity.

And Jon, is the extinction coiled around it.

Maybe in every universe the embodiment of the extinction and humanity fall inlove. Maybe in one of them it doesn’t doom their world.

— 👁️☁️ —

Honestly !! A concept I need people to write about, Christ, it’s just so MMM. Anyway. Thank you for listening =w=

[ultramarinaa]

Since the cat Leitner is apparently a Lonely artefact, wouldn't it also prevent the cat-transformed humans from understanding other cats ? Like, you can meow at each other, but you can't really understand what the meows mean.

Idk, it just would be very fucking funny imo if Jon read the Leitner some time after Martin did, and was desperately trying to talk to the Martin. He doesn't know it's his coworker turned cat, he just wants to talk to the kitty.

Also, Jon doing his best to still work without opposable thumbs while Martin is just loafing in the sun, having abandoned trying a long time ago.

I think I implied in my other ask that you can’t communicate with normal cats, but I haven’t considered not even being able to communicate with other cat-transformed humans!

I don’t think John would try to read a Leitner knowing it’s effects, but maybe after Martin returns to normal (and they know how to undo it) John might get curious and try it on himself (like to try to talk to the Admiral). Other option is that he reads it on his search for Martin and then wants to do best with it and tries to talk to Cat!Martin just to be met with utter disappointment of lack of communication.

Also Cat!John still working his 9-5 job is most in character image of all time and also since I mentioned this taking place in season one… think how much it would change the relationship between John and Melanie if their first interaction would be her giving statement to a cat disjodjslrjsljrodd

[onlinesuzie]

HAMZAH REQUEST: argument fic w fluff make out after love me some angst ty!

♡ confronting hamzah about his time away from you ♡

words: 1.8k

summary: Hamzah was passionate about his work, spending countless hours filming and editing to ensure every detail was perfect. But as his dedication to his videos grew, so did the distance between you and him.

notes: i usually hate writing angst but this submission made me want to try it so i hope you like it!! also i am a sucker for hamzah asking for a little kiss so i just had to add that!!

☆

Hamzah’s deep brown eyes always sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about his latest project. With his brown curly hair framing his face, often tousled from running his hands through it during long editing sessions. His tan skin, a warm golden hue, glowed under the harsh blue light, though dark circles had begun to appear under his eyes from many sleepless nights.

You were very proud of Hamzah’s success. You loved seeing the joy his videos brought to his audience, but the late nights and missed dinners were taking their toll. What once felt like a shared journey now seemed like a lonely path. Tonight, as you set the table for a special dinner, the clock ticked away the minutes of your patience.

Hamzah was late again.

The dinner grew cold as you sat in silence, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the empty chair across from you. You had planned a special evening, hoping to reconnect after weeks of feeling alone. But as the hours passed, your frustration turned to anger.

Finally, the front door creaked open. Hamzah entered, his face alight with excitement, clutching his camera.

“You won’t believe how funny Martin was today! It’s going to be our best video yet,” he said, oblivious to your simmering anger.

“Hamzah, do you even know what time it is?” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended.

He opened up his phone, checking the time and noticing the several missed calls, his smile fading. “Oh… I lost track of time. I’m sorry, my love. But you should see this clip—”

“I don’t care about the clip!” you interrupted, standing up from the table. “You’re always late, always busy with your videos. Do you even care about us anymore?”

Hamzah’s face fell, his excitement replaced by confusion and defensiveness. “Of course I care about us. This is for us, for our future. Can’t you see how important this is?”

“Important? Hamzah, you’re never here! I feel like I’m living alone. We never talk, we never spend time together. I’m tired of feeling left out.”

“I thought you’d be proud of me,” Hamzah shot back, his voice rising. “I’m building something here. Something that makes us a stable income. Can’t you see that?”

“I am proud of you! But what’s the point of all this if me and you are falling apart?” Your voice broke, the frustration spilling out. “I just want to spend time with you, Hamzah. Is that too much to ask?”

“You think I don’t want that too?” he retorted. “I’m doing this for us, so we can have a better future. But it’s like you don’t even appreciate how hard I’m working.”

“Appreciate? I appreciate you, Hamzah. But I need you here, with me, not lost in your work all the time. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?”

“We are a team,” he insisted. “But you need to understand, this isn’t just a hobby. This is my career. Our career. You should be supporting me.”

“I do support you,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “But I can’t support something that’s tearing us apart.”

The argument escalated, emotions running high. Words flew back and forth, each one more hurtful than the last. You voiced every grievance, every moment of loneliness you had felt. Hamzah tried to defend himself, explaining the pressures of maintaining his online presence, but his words only fueled your anger.

“You don’t get it,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t care about your subscribers or your videos. I care about you. I miss you.”

The room fell silent, your words hanging in the air. Hamzah stood there, the weight of your feelings finally sinking in. He stepped closer, his voice softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I thought I was doing this for us, but I see now that I’ve been pushing you away.”

You looked up at him, your anger fading as you saw the regret in his eyes. “I just want us to be okay, Hamzah. I want to feel like we’re a team again.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his. “We are a team. And I promise I’ll do better. I’ll find a way to balance my work and our relationship. You’re more important to me than any video.”

The sincerity in his voice melted the remaining tension. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him, and he held you tight. As you looked into his eyes, you saw the love that had always been there, just buried under the stress and excitement of his career.

“I love you,” you whispered, and he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

Hamzah was breathtakingly beautiful, and you had missed him this way. His eyes were locked onto yours, conveying a depth of emotion words could never capture. You had always admired his determination and drive, but in this moment, all you wanted was him, here with you, present and loving.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you murmured against his lips, your voice barely a whisper. “I need you, Hamzah.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Later into the night, it was quiet, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You and Hamzah lay on the couch, entwined, the warmth of his body a comfort you hadn't realized you needed so badly. Yet, even in this moment of closeness, a sense of unease lingered. You knew the fight wasn't over, that deeper issues lay beneath the surface, waiting to be addressed.

As you traced your fingers along the curve of Hamzah’s jaw, you could see the exhaustion etched into his features. The dark circles under his eyes told the story of countless late nights spent editing videos, chasing a dream that seemed to be pulling him further away from you.

“Hamzah,” you began softly, not wanting to shatter the fragile peace that had settled between you, “I’m scared.”

He looked at you, his brown eyes concerned. “Scared of what?”

“I’m scared that we’re losing each other,” you confessed. “That your career is becoming more important than us. I know you love what you do, and I love seeing you happy, but I need to know that we still matter to you.”

Hamzah sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. “You do matter. More than anything. But I feel like I’m caught between two worlds. I want to give you everything, but I also love my job and don’t want to lose the opportunity I’ve ended up with.”

“I understand that,” you said, your voice trembling. “But I don’t want to be the one always left behind. We need to find a balance, Hamzah. I need to feel like I’m a part of your world, not just an afterthought.”

He pulled you closer, his embrace strong yet tender. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve been so focused on my work that I forgot the most important part of my life – you. I promise I’ll do better.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I miss us, Hamzah. I miss the way things used to be.”

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Then let’s make a change. Let’s set some boundaries. No more late nights unless it’s absolutely necessary. And I’ll make sure we have our time together, no matter what.”

You nodded, a glimmer of hope igniting within you. “Okay. But we have to stick to it, Hamzah. We can’t keep going like this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice firm with determination. “I want this to work. I want us to work.”

As you shared this intimate moment, the tension that had filled the room began to dissipate, replaced by a deep longing for each other. Your heart raced as you leaned in closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Hamzah’s eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of regret and desire.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and filled with vulnerability.

You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he closed the distance. His lips closed the distance between you.

Hamzah’s hands held to your waist, pulling you closer as he traced your lips with his tongue. You responded eagerly, opening your mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck and sliding your fingers into his soft curls. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your heart beat faster. It felt as though the world around you had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble of passion.

You could taste the salt of his skin and the sweetness of his breath as you kissed him deeply, exploring the familiar contours of his mouth. Every touch, every sigh, seemed to bring you closer, healing the wounds that had formed between you during the argument.

Hamzah’s hands traveled down your back, pulling you even tighter against him as if he never wanted to let go. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and every brush of his fingers gave you goosebumps. The kiss grew more intense, filled with all the pent-up emotions of longing, frustration, and love.

“God, I’ve missed this,” you breathed, pulling away just enough to catch your breath, your hands resting on his chest.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I never want to lose you.”

As you resumed kissing, it was as if you were both reaffirming your commitment to each other. The softness of his lips against yours felt like a promise, a vow that no matter how busy life got, you would always find your way back to one another. You kissed with intensity, pouring all your love and desperation into each moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you got lost in each other. Every moment spent in his arms felt like a step towards reclaiming what you both had nearly lost. The passion of the kiss made you realize just how important your connection was, how deep your love ran.

Eventually, you pulled back slightly, both of you breathless, the realization of how much you needed each other settling in.

“Let’s not wait until we’re fighting to remember this,” you said softly, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

“Agreed,” Hamzah replied, his expression serious yet tender. “I promise to always make time for us, no matter what.”

As you nestled into his embrace once more, the world outside seemed to fade away. The promise of a new beginning hung in the air, and with every heartbeat, you felt a renewed sense of hope. You knew that no matter the challenges ahead, you and Hamzah would face them together—united, passionate, and very much in love.

With hearts intertwined, you both finally surrendered to the exhaustion of the day, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms, ready to embrace the future hand in hand.

[kelin-is-writing]

kelin may i hear more about rockstar touya \(★ω★)/

I was planning to post other headcanons before going for these, BUT I’ve got some for Rockstar!Touya that are pestering my mind these days and your asks come in the right moment, so bear with me please 🤧

࣪𖤐… ROCKSTAR!TOUYA

The first time Touya knew that he wanted to become a rockstar was in middle school, right at the age of thirteen, his influent CEO of a father was trying to mold him into a carbon copy of himself to rival Yagi Toshinori’s Enterprise. While taking a break from studies, he saw his sister watch on TV a rock concert of “Loudness” and to say Akira Takasaki is his role model is the least. That’s a true legend to him.

After “Loudness” and Akira Takasaki, he discovered “Metallica” and Kirk Hammett which made him go like “HOW??? HAVE??? I??? MISSED??? ALL??? THIS???”, scolding himself for taking so long to fall in love with the electric guitar and its sound. The next week he’s blasting full volume “The Final Countdown” by Europe inside the Todoroki Mansion like the good old stamp rock fanatic he is, getting himself scolded and grounded by Enji who is a fan of traditional Japanese music so yeah…

At one of the Todoroki family gatherings during the weekend, he was scrolling down his phone looking first of all where to take guitar lessons and second for a guitar to buy, but he knew his father would never agree to get him one. That’s when his grandfather, peeking at his grandson’s phone, butted in and asked Touya if he’s interested in music. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to answer that question, since he’s the father of his father, but he did and hell has it been the best thing he did!

On his fourteenth birthday, Enji’s father bought Touya his very first electric guitar, a good old Fender Stratocaster CUSTOM MADE for him. It’s snow white like his hair and has a his name engraved on the bottom left side of the guitar, while on the other side there were engraved tiger’s fangs, all in turquoise… The color of his eyes. And this has been by far Touya’s best birthday ever.

After finishing Middle School he choose to attend an Art School, taking the music classes as main classes of course; he may or not have done it to piss off and raise Enji’s blood pressure from how mad he got for choosing something different from Finances and Management. Oh his father was livid and Touya was so proud of himself for that.

He has formed a rock band, of which he’s the guitarist and vocalist, with Tenko Shimura (Bassist&Vocalist) and Shuichi Iguchi (Drummer) called “The Villains”… Are we even surprised about this name? Really? Because I am not. Tenko suggested, Iguchi supported strongly and Touya just went with it because complaining and thinking about another name was “Too much effort”. He likes it a lot but will never admit it.

At the age of nineteen, Touya owns a Fender Stratocaster (Custom Made), an Elite Stratocaster, an ST-83-80 Japan (1983) black, Lone Star Strat, IC350 black, IC50 black, ICHI00 white, Gibson SG Standard mahogany and a Jackson Pro Series DK Modern HT6 MS. He also owns four acoustic guitars for songwriting, like a Martin GPC-X1E, Martin 000-28 Modern Deluxe, Taylor GS Mini-e Rosewood SN LTD and a Taylor AD22e. Did he pay all them with Enji’s credit card? Hell yeah. Did he do it out of spite? Absolutely. Did he care about his father’s blood pressure rising even more? Not even remotely.

His favorite groups are Loudness, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Europe, Scorpions, Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Green Day, Skillet, Linkin Park, The Rasmus, L’Arc-En-Ciel, UVERworld, Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses and Evanescence to list some, because there are many more he adores honestly. He isn’t a picky ear as long as the song gives him chills and inspires him, being someone who’s driven by emotions that’s what makes him likes something he hears.

Atsuhiro is their homeroom teacher, at the Art University they attend, who introduces them to Giran, a friend of his, who has an agency for new talents and after they sent him six of their songs wants to launch their very first album by August to make them debut at the “Rock In Japan Fes.”

Touya, being the emotional driven type of musician, is the one put to write the lyrics for the band’s songs and most of the times are hits, especially because his and Tenko’s voice brings to life the emotions of the lyrics in a way that it reaches the listeners right into the heart and soul.

You will never catch Touya’s fingers empty, there’s always rings decorating them and some rings are even custom made by his cousin Geten, who owns a Jewelry shop that he promotes a lot on his social media. One of his most precious rings is the one that he got made for him, with his birthstone carved in it, when he turned eighteen.

He has three earrings on his right ear: an helix, mid helix, conch and low helix. Four on his left one: two helix, a low helix and one on the lobe, plus three nostril piercings on the right side of his nose.

After “The Villains” debuts and proving his father that he could succeed through music without his help nor his name, Touya owns now a black card that he lets Fuyumi and Shoto use to their heart content.

Last, but not least, be ready to be the muse of Touya’s songs the instant he falls head over heels for you. The moment it happens everything, and I mean everything, to him becomes about you driving Tenko and Iguchi to pure exasperation.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Avarice and Arrogance (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Aemond Masterlist | HOTD Masterlist 

Synopsis: Aemond was always confident that he could protect you and his family from any threat, but the Gods had to dole out a lesson for his impunity, and a particularly cruel one at that. 

Warnings: TW! Character death, violence, torture, angst, Aemond being somewhat toxic?? 

Word Count: 2.6K words 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for the reader. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: You guys asked for angst, I delivered an overdose. I hope you enjoy, although I’m not very proud of this one shot. Inspired after overplaying the epic version of Aegon’s Coronation theme. Ramin Djawadi is my true King of the Seven Kingdoms 

wonderful dividers credited to @firefly-graphics

“He whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him!” 

To anyone, Prince Aemond seemed the portrait of composure: his arms clasped behind his back, his expression cool and disinterested. Yet if one looked closely enough, they would see the tension in his jaw, his teeth gritted, his posture bordering more on stiff than of calmness. His lone violet eye glittered as he observed Aegon walking under the raised swords of the knights, looking as recalcitrant as always. 

‘Had that been me…’ he thought bitterly, ‘I would’ve carried myself with pride. The smallfolk would’ve took one look at me and trusted that I had the greatness, the capability, to lead House Targaryen into the apex of our power.’ 

‘And yet,’ Aemond mused to himself as his mother kissed Aegon on the forehead, ‘reality is often disappointing.’

His fists clenched at his sides. It was unfair, his brother was naught but a wastrel, a fool constantly drunk in his cups and oft found buried in the tits of some common whore. What right had he to rule, save for being the firstborn son? How could someone as useless as him be Lord of the Seven Kingdoms? Even with their grandsire by his side giving him counsel, when his half sister received word of the coronation, and of their father’s death…Aemond dreaded to think what would happen. Would Aegon be able to rise up to the defence of their family?

Aemond took a deep breath to steady himself, when suddenly, he felt a warm hand grasping his, gently unclenching his fingers from his tightly formed fist. Surprised, he looked over to the unexpected source of comfort. His lady wife stood next to him, an indifferent expression on her lovely face as she kept her eyes fixed on the smallfolk. He noticed that she was holding his sweet sister, Helaena’s hand in her other hand, and his mind halted in its baleful, raging course to settle on her instead, admiring her. 

My beautiful, brilliant lady wife. 

She would’ve been the most wonderful queen, he thought, and the wave of resentment began its course once more. As if sensing the switch in Aemond’s thoughts, she squeezed his hand lightly in hers. Aemond marvelled at his wife, amazed at how she always could sense the slightest shifts in his moods, even when her eyes were not on him. And just like that, the worry and the resentment fell away, and his envy for his brother became a little easier to bear, even just for that moment. 

But…he felt a sense of strangeness creep over him as he took in his wife’s features. Her face was impassive, but it was hard and cold, as if she did not approve of this very scene. As Aegon raised Blackfyre and rallied the crowd, and his wife squeezed Helaena’s hand tighter, Aemond realised that mayhaps her gesture was not done solely out of comfort, but for anxiety.

For fear. 

You were chewing on your bottom lip, Helaena’s hand still in yours as you both stewed in contemplative silence, each engulfed with thoughts and worries of your own. Aemond frowned as he watched his sister and his beloved. Aegon had ridden in a separate wheelhouse with their mother and grandsire, and mayhaps it was for the better, given the gloomy atmosphere. 

When they were back in the safety of their apartments, Aemond followed his wife’s every movement in rapt attention. You began unravelling the tight updo that your hair was in, running your hands through your long locks pensively. It was done now…you were true traitors to the Crown. You sighed, wanting nothing more than to crawl in bed and hope that this was nothing but an unpleasant dream. 

Suddenly, you felt warm arms engulfing you from behind. Aemond dropped his chin onto his beloved’s shoulder as he embraced her, breathing in her scent. “Tell me what troubles you, my love,” his voice husky. 

You shook your head slightly, trying to mask your thoughts. “Tis nothing, my love. I swear it.” 

Aemond chuckled, a dark and soft sound. “Liar.” 

He spun his beloved round to face him, taking note of her expression. “I know you are worried,” his voice was soft, “We are husband and wife, my love. Whatever troubles you hold, I want to know all of it. We swore before the Gods, did we not? To share each other’s burdens? We will honour our vows, do we not?” 

Your lips twisted slightly, trying not to grimace. “If vows were of any matter to us, then we would not have committed such a grave sin.” Aemond frowned, the reasons for his wife’s anxiety suddenly becoming apparent to him. “Aegon is the King now,” he reminded her, “My father named him so.” 

You let out a humourless snort. “He was an old man, half senile and drunk on the Milk of Poppy.” Aemond opened his mouth as if to protest, but you continued before he could. “The late king had named Rhaenyra as his heir. Even when the Stranger drew close, he had forsaken his health and braved through his pain to uphold Rhaenyra’s claim during Vaemond’s speech. Does the Hand expect all of Westeros to believe the King changed his mind all of a sudden on his deathbed? It is insanity, and even a deaf fool would know better.” 

“Enough,” Aemond’s voice was low, tinged with warning. “You will not insult my grandsire like this. It is done now, and that is the truth.” You persisted, however. “Putting that aside, Rhaenyra will seek to have all our heads when the news breaks. How can your grandsire be as foolish as to put all of us in danger like this?” 

Aemond arched a brow, “Is that what you’re worried about?” “Are you not worried about that?” Aemond laughed, “We have dragons, my love. I should think Vhagar, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre are enough to defend us. That whore on Dragonstone will soon realise that she can get angry, and she can spit and curse all she wants, but she cannot match against our might.” 

You looked unconvinced, which irked Aemond a little. Why was she so worried? “Do not tell me,” his voice was low with menace, “That you are loyal to Rhaenyra. That you are sympathetic to that whore’s cause.” You kept mum, but your eyes told Aemond everything he needed to know. He snarled, moving to pin you against the wall. 

Your eyes widened with panic, your hands moving to push Aemond away, but he held your wrists in a vice grip. You had never seen him so angry with you before. “You are my wife,” he hissed angrily, “Your priorities should lie with me, with my family. Our family. In keeping us safe from that accursed whore and my uncle.” “And making Aegon king, usurping the rightful queen, is supposed to keep us safe?” You argued, unintimidated. “Have you lost all your senses, Aemond? We are traitors! Usurpers! You claim protecting your family is your priority, but yet you allow your grandsire to risk our lives for his mad grab for power!” Aemond’s grip tightened on your wrists, causing you to wince and fall silent. Aemond took notice of that, but he couldn’t let you go. Not just yet. He needed to make his point. 

“I said, do not speak of my grandsire in that manner,” he seethed. “He is my family, and I will not tolerate you insulting him.” He took a deep breath, letting go of his wife’s wrists, and she took the chance to push him away before fleeing to their bed. He sighed and sat down next to her, but she only moved away and folded her arms, turning her back on him. He heard a soft sniffle, and he realised with horror that she was crying. He had made her cry. 

A pang of guilt shot through Aemond’s heart, and he tentatively reached out to put his hands on her shoulders, dismayed when she flinched away from his touch. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, my love,” he said quietly, “I got carried away, and I hurt you. I apologise for that.” He saw her shoulders lose some of their tension at his apology, and a glimmer of hope shone in his violet eye. Mayhaps he could make her see his viewpoint after all. He knew of her house’s loyalty to Rhaenyra’s claim, and how she might be swayed to support Rhaenyra’s claim, but she had to see. That this was the best for their family. 

“My love…” he bit his lip, “I know my words were harsh, but it is true. What is done is done. Even if I dislike Aegon being on the throne, he is my brother. If Rhaenyra had taken the throne, she would’ve had us executed. She would not suffer any presence that could be a threat to her claim to the throne. Even if she did not, there is no doubt Daemon would.” He took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. “Rhaenyra is impulsive, violent and reckless. You saw how she took off Vaemond’s head when his only crime was speaking the truth. Her son blinded me when we were naught but boys,” Aemond’s voice became hard. “If we allow her to ascend the throne, that means that the Strong bastard, Jace, would ascend the throne after her. Do you really think the realm would really bow before him?” 

Your hard gaze softened a little, and Aemond saw a window of opportunity. “Think rationally, my love,” Aemond pleaded softly, “My father may have named Rhaenyra the heir, but it is an irreplaceable fact that the lords of Westeros would never bow before her. The Seven Kingdoms would plunge into chaos, do you really want that?” Aemond raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “I know you’re afraid of Rhaenyra’s wrath, but I ask of you to trust me. Trust that I will keep us safe, no matter what.” 

“...I’m not sure if you can, Aemond.” Aemond’s heart dropped, “Whatever do you mean?” You finally turned to face him, and he was alarmed when he took note of the tears glistening at the corner of your eyes. “Aemond…I’m with child. For nearly three moons now.” 

Aemond swore his heart stopped at that very moment. But his shock only lasted briefly before he pulled you into his arms, voice filled with excitement and wonder, “You’re with child? Our child?” When he broke the embrace, you were surprised to see the corner of his violet eye wet. Aemond dropped to his knees in front of you, stroking his hand over your stomach reverently, in disbelief almost. “We’re going to be parents…” he murmured, “I’m going to be a father.” 

But even in Aemond’s joy, you could not find it in yourself to smile. Not with the threat of the impending succession war. Aemond noticed your discomfort, but nothing could take away the happiness he felt at the moment. “My love, you don’t have to be afraid,” his voice was reassuring, “I swear on my honour, on the Old Gods and the New, on the Seven and all my ancestors, that I would burn the world to ashes on Vhagar before I let anyone lay a finger on you or our child.” He took your hand, cradling it in his, tilting his head upwards, a pleading look in his eye, for you to believe in him, to trust him to keep you safe. 

“But even all the dragons in this world will not keep us from reaping the fate we sowed,” you said quietly, eyes never leaving Aemond’s. “The gods will strike us down for our treason.” 

Aemond rolled his eye, exasperated that his wife just didn’t seem to grasp the true extent of their power. “We are Targaryens, my love,” Aemond said self-assuredly. “We possess dragons, the largest, most dangerous and powerful creatures in the world. The gods may try as they might, but they can never strike us down. Seven hells, I would dare say we are the gods, my love,” Aemond chuckled at how your eyes widened at his brazen words. “For what other than a god can mount a dragon, and command it?” “Don’t say things like that, Aemond,” you were aghast, “The Seven will-” 

“Fuck the Seven,” Aemond said bluntly. “When men pray, the Gods never answer. Why should we fear the consequences inflicted upon us by some unknown higher power?” He resumed his seat on their bed, pulling you back into his embrace and gently stroking your hair. “We need not fear the Gods, my love,” he murmured softly. “You will see soon enough, when war comes, and the Gods do nothing to interfere, then you will come to revere them less. In the meantime, you will come to see who the true gods are, when our dragons raze the earth and win this godforsaken war.” 

It was known to all that the gods despise hubris, and perhaps they were watching that evening, when you laid your head on Aemond’s chest with a sigh and allowed him to soothe and comfort you, making promises that he would keep you safe no matter what. 

Aemond had been so sure in his words, so confident in his beliefs and in his abilities, and blinded by his ego. Mayhaps this was what drove him when he bade Vhagar prowl around Lucerys Velaryon and his dragon Arrax in the stormy skies of Storms’ End, shouting for the Strong bastard to repay the debt he owed. 

Mayhaps his pride was what had blinded him to the possibility that he could never keep his family safe after his act of kinslaying. 

But he knew for sure that he had regretted making an enemy of the gods when he saw you, eyes wide with fear, a sharp dragonglass blade to your throat as you were held hostage by some cutpurse. An eye for an eye, a son for a son, the cutpurse had grinned, before slitting your throat and lodging the dagger into your stomach. 

It mattered not how much Aemond had howled with grief as he held your lifeless frame in his arms, begging for you to wake up. It mattered not when Aemond personally tortured your assassin with the most vicious methods he could devise, flaying every inch of skin from his body until he had expired. Even in death, he was not spared of Aemond’s wrath. His body was marked with incisions when it was finally fed to Vhagar, courtesy of Aemond cutting out his heart and crushing it with his bare hands. It mattered not when Aemond had sworn to avenge you no matter the cost, to cut down Daemon Targaryen and give him the same treatment he had for the cutpurse. It took the combined efforts of the Queen Dowager, Queen Helaena, King Aegon, the Hand, and many other lords and knights of the Kingsguard to prevent him from mounting Vhagar upon the cutpurse’s death to fly to Dragonstone. A fool’s folly, they called it, but Aemond had drawn his sword and snarled at them to get out of his way, lest they wish to be the recipient of Vhagar’s flames. It was only when Alicent motioned for Ser Criston to deliver a blow that rendered Aemond unconscious that they could restrain him at all. 

A part of Aemond had died that day, and he rained curses upon the Seven, on his uncle, on his wretched half-sister as he took his seat in the Small Council, being the advocate for absolute and brutal violence against the Blacks. And yet he did not repent for looking down upon the gods, not even till the day when he faced his uncle Daemon in battle and died in the cursed halls of Harrenhal. Another casualty of the Dance of the Dragons. 

After all, even the Valyrian dragonlords of old had not been able to escape the Stranger’s clutches when death came for them. And Aemond Targaryen was no different. 

...i’m very sorry :( but I swear, happier Aemond one shots are coming 😭

Aemond General Taglist: @aiyaiy​ 

Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) thank you for reading! 💗

[tumb1rprincess]

Random Thoughts About the Magnus Archives

I feel like something's being said about your personality depending on which avatars you like and which ones you want to drop dead, I just don't know what. Like, anytime Peter showed up, I'd be like "You're a bitch ass, go away." But anytime distortion Michael made an appearance, I'd be like "That's my baby boy!" And there are a few that are kind of in between. Like with Nikola, I was like "You freak me the fuck out, but you're funny, so I guess that evens it out."

I think it's so interesting how despite a lot of the characters not getting any physical descriptions, a lot of artists in the fandom draw them the same way. Like, Melanie almost always has colorful hair, usually blue. Jon's hair gets longer with every season. Helen is almost always wearing purple. I just wonder how everyone unanimously agreed on some of this stuff.

I thought the Leitner rant was a canon thing, so I avoided anything about it 'cause I wanted to be surprised. I think near the end of the series though I finally looked it up and I was like "What!? This was a fan thing?" Totally hilarious though, I kind of felt the same way about Leitner.

The inside jokes are fucking hilarious, like the "homophobic vase." Or we have classics like "I just listened to the episode where the guy has sex with a bug." "Oh, which one?" and "Peter and Elias are definitely divorced."

Seeing what episodes scared people and which ones had people going "Actually, that sounds kind of nice" was very interesting. Like, episode 57 where the guy was stuck all alone in space? Emotionally destroyed me. But then others would be like "Yo, being able to be all alone in space with no one to bother me? Sign me up."

Also interesting to see which Fears scared people the most and which ones they think they would end up serving. I think the Buried scared me the most. Episodes 15, 132, and 195 freaking terrified me. I'd probably end up serving the Lonely, I remember thinking "Oh, that's me," with a lot of episodes, particularly episodes 159, 170, 186. It was a weird combination of "I'm in this statement and I don't like it" and "I actually feel seen." Like a weird mix of being called out and also kind of validated because I felt like my thoughts and feelings were finally being put into words and that meant somebody else had gone through the same thing.

What were some popular fan theories that ended up not coming true? I think I saw somewhere that a lot of people were theorizing that Martin would join the Web before he ended up serving the Lonely instead. People often say Gravity Falls fans grew up to be Magnus Archives fans and I remember Gravity Falls fans going crazy with some of the theories. And even if some of them ended up not happening, they're still really interesting.

I love how a lot of the characters do shitty things, but you completely understand why. Like, Melanie's wrong for blaming Jon for a lot of things that go wrong, but you understand that she feels trapped like an animal in a cage, so she's just lashing out. Or Tim is kind of an asshole in season 3, but you understand because he went through a lot of the same trauma that Jon did, he's just reacting with anger instead of paranoia.

I've been watching a lot of fan animations for this show and a lot of the comments are like "I checked out the Magnus Archives because of this video!" And the same thing happened to me too. Did you guys see any fan animations that made you decide to give this show a go?

When people draw Jon with long hair, they draw him like he’s the prettiest man alive and I love it. That or ends up looking like Jesus or Bruno Madrigal

I see every day things like a spiral shaped object or a spider and I jokingly think “Is that a Magnus Archives reference?” Or I’ll be listening to a song and think “Hmm, that could go in a Lonely playlist” or “Ooo, that so fits with the Vast.”

[gammija]

PLEASE tell us more about your vampwolf au

i WILL!

First of all, the main purpose of this au is to have fun imagining vampire!martin and werewolf!jon and secrets/newly discovered abilities. so the details are very vague unless i could come up with something i found interesting

Elias is a centuries-old vampire who runs the Institute partly because he wants to gather and keep knowledge on the supernatural, partly as his personal bloodbank (shamelessly stole this idea from this fic). The supernatural is, just like in tma, not believed in outside of specific circles. Vampires are more or less typical; need to drink human blood every so often, can't go in sunlight, can turn into bats, can make thralls. New vampires are supernaturally bound to the one who made them.

Somewhere in the latter half of the 1900s, Elias turns Martin. Martin half-knew what he was getting into, but he did it to help his mom and he was lonely enough that he didnt particularly care about the consequences. Idk what Elias specifically hoped to get out of it - perhaps his previous lackey died and he just neede someone new to do his dirty work.

After Martin becomes a vampire, it becomes clear that he's quite talented at doing subtle short-term thralls on humans. A useful skill, Elias decides to keep him around for that as well, and sticks him in the basement as the archivist, which isn't a specific role in this au - just an excuse so that Martin doesn't see the sunlight. He's not allowed to snack from the Institute's employees, he's got to source his own blood. Basically Martin's life sucks and the only fun he gets is messing up the organization of the old files that get sent down.

This next part is a lot vaguer but maybe Elias wants to experiment with different combinations of supernatural creatures - there's quite a few that are born out of humans, and what if you could stack the effects somehow! and what if he could control whatever monster results from it by making them his vampire! but the problem is, as soon as someone becomes a vampire, their body stops changing, so no new supernatural abilities can stack. So he needs to keep his experiment bound to him with more normal, capitalist means until they're done cooking. or maybe he has a cursed contract for employees, idk

IN ANY CASE researcher Jon is investigating some odd deaths around the Lukas' estate. Other employees tell him to stay away from that place, it's not worth it, and Elias is like "oh nooo Jon definitely don't do a stake-out at their mansion during the full moon ;)"

Obviously the Lukasses are werewolves (they're lone wolves lol) and when Peter spots one of Elias' guys around his home, he decides to make an example of him. He attacks Jon in his car, drags him out, nearly chomps his leg off, leaves him for dead on the grounds.

Martin is sent by Elias to go and save Jon, and he can't really refuse, so off he goes. He drives a half-conscious Jon back to London and drops him off at the hospital, making sure to mind-control the people he meets into believing that Jon had come there alone. As soon as it seems like Jon won't die, he leaves.

Jon recovers in the hospital, needing to walk with crutches for a while after, but he goes back to work. because now he has a new mystery to chase: who saved him? He had lost a lot of blood by that point and he's not great with faces so he doesn't recognize Martin, but he knows there was someone there, he couldn't have driven himself back, especially with his leg. Despite this obvious truth, somehow all the nurses are convinced he came there by himself? he needs to figure this out. Also, for some reason he keeps having to shave a lot more often and craving rare steaks for dinner, but surely that's nothing.

Meanwhile Elias is happy that he's now got a werewolf who's already tied to the institute, and sticks Jon together with Martin in the basement so his vampire can keep an eye on his wolfy, make sure that Jon doesn't die while he goes poking around at other supernatural creatures as he tries to find out what happened that night, or that he doesn't kill someone and get sent to jail come next full moon. Set-up, done.

After that, I don't have a very strict idea. I think it'd be fun if Leitner (or someone like him) does his thing where he nearly threatens to tell Jon about Elias' plans for him, and Eliase has to kill him - except he lets Martin do it in the classic vampire style, so Jon can walk in on him as he sucks the lifeforce out of Leitner. Extra fun if Jon hadn't put together that Martin is a vampire yet.

Jon flees and goes to Georgie who's like 'oh yeah werewolves are real nbd'. Then, the most tragic part of this au kicks in....

as a werewolf, the Admiral is instinctively scared of Jon 😔

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (I)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,866

CW: mummy issues, childish teasing, incest

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen (can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and fire charecters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all charecters are his except for my OC                     

                                Visenya

Her mother was once again in labour. Visenya was the eldest of three. With two brothers and two uncles, she often found herself surrounded by boys. Her Aunt Heleana was often her only escape and even then, bugs seemed more interesting to her. She had longed for a baby sister and loved the idea of dressing her up like a doll and teaching her everything she knew. She often felt lonely,  her brothers were often off with their eldest Uncle Aegon, trying their hardest to impress him. She missed the days when they longed for her satisfaction or happiness over any task, she asked them to do. And now they focused their attention on tormenting her other Uncle Aemond.

Aemond was her dearest friend, having both had eggs that didn't hatch in the cradle they found a way to bond through that. And later their love for the histories of old Valyria and learning High Valyrian.

One was never without the other, that was until she finally claimed her dragon.

When she was six, she went to Dragonstone for the first time. There she made it her mission to claim a dragon. She did not mind which, but she was determined to do so. Having given up much sooner than Aemond on her egg ever hatching, she concluded that she would claim a dragon, and if Aemond wished, she would happily share a dragon with him.

It was no easy feat, she snuck off in the dead of night and rode on horseback (a horse double her size, barely hanging on for dear life) to the dragon mount. Nine dragons resided on Dragonstone, her mother's; Syrax, her brothers; Vermax and Arrax, her father's; Seasmoke, the three wild dragons; Sheepstealer, Greyghost and the cannibal (though she would never think of attempting to claim them), and then there was Vermithor and Silverwing. She believed her best bets were lied with one of them, wild dragons being far too risky for a mere child. There were also several hatchlings and young dragons, but she wanted a grown one. A dragon to strike fear and build her respect.

She was a princess and the heir to the iron throne, after her mother. And riding a dragon fit for a king or a queen is a sure-fire way to build her some support, if not fear to stop any usurpation.

So, when she came face to face with Vermithor, she knew he would be hers.

She sang him a Valyrian lullaby, A song her mother often sang to one of her brothers. She almost giggled at the motion, the bronze fury, wooed by a lullaby. But she had heard stories of dragons being lulled into submission by a song, she hoped it would attract his attention, and lure him out.

It did.

Though she did not anticipate him letting a monstrous roar into her face, a fire built in his throat.

"Umbagon, gīda"

Wait, calm.

He stopped, his head lowered, sniffing her. She refused to show her fear, refused to cry. "Dohaerās" she stuttered.

Serve

His head lowered further, edging closer to her face. He sniffed her, letting out a grumble. "Dohaerās" she let out again, this time her voice firm.

His body lowered; his face approached hers. She reached her hand out to stroke him, rubbing at his nose.

"kessa ao ivestragī nyke kipagon ao?" she questioned, hand still stroking him.

will you let me ride you?

His eyes homed in on her, taking in her every movement. Assessing her.

He moved his head forward gently, softly nuzzling her, or at least as much as a dragon could. She took that as a yes and moved forward slowly. Her hand not leaving him. whether to reassure her or him, she did not know. She stoked along his side gently. Moving forward to the ladder to his saddle.

"ok" she muttered to herself, reaching forward to grab the ladder "don't fall, don't fall" she moved up slowly, holding her breath. Making it onto the saddle, he let out a slight shake. Not enough to throw her off, but enough to hurry up. It seemed as if Vermithor was eager to let his new mount fly him.

She sat down slowly, grabbing the reins, "sōvegon".

fly

His ascension was fast, somewhat graceful. Unlike her mother's dragon, he did not glide into the air, sweet and graceful. No Vermithor flew. He flapped his wings to their full length, showing off his size and power. Vermithor wanted to dominate the sky and show his power. He was loud, roaring as if to announce his presence. At first, she thought it was to strike fear and warn other dragons off, but by the quick company of Silverwing, she knew it was a call.

The mated dragons roared upon each other's presence. And then they began to sing. They moved around each other, their voices echoing their movements.

They flew and moved around each other.

She realised then that with one came the other. Much like she and Aemond, perhaps he could claim Silverwing. And they could be like their first riders, she hoped.

She wasn't sure how long they flew, by the time she had even claimed Vermithor the sun had begun to rise, and her parents must be starting to worry. But she could not find it in her to care. They landed outside the entrances to the castle and were quickly greeted by her parents.

"Muña, Kepa" she shouted in greeting. "I claimed him, Muña" she let out excitedly.

"I saw, my love." Her mother spoke, her tone wavering between stern and happy. She knew her mother could not stay mad at her for long, especially with how happy she was.

Her father let out a laugh, "We saw, sweetheart, but you can't keep sneaking out" he tried to say sternly, though his pride shone through his eyes.

"I know, it won't happen again" she muttered, lying.

"hmm" her mother spoke, clearly not believing it "you know, when you lie you look at your feet"

"sorry" she squeaked out, before seeing Jace, her younger brother (by ten moons) run out.

"Senya!" he shouted.

"Did you see? Did you see?" she asked excitedly, as Jace ran up to her and hugged her.

"Yes! Can you take me riding?" he questioned excitedly, Vermax being only four was nowhere near large enough to ride.

"of course," she spoke quickly wrapping her arms around him and spinning in a circle.

Her mother cleared her throat "not until you are older" she spoke " and you missy, will have to hold off on the riding until the dragon masters deem you ready".

Shouts of discontent rang between the two children, "but you claimed Syrax was around my age, and you were allowed to ride her!"

"Yes, but Syrax was much smaller, and Vermithor is much bigger" her mother spoke, pride in her tone when speaking of her dragon.

Visenya only hoped for a bond like her mother and her dragon had.

Ever since claiming her dragon Aemond had tried to distance himself from her. His jealousy strong and their relationship. But she refused to put up with Aemonds actions. Dragging him along with her to meet Vermithor, trying to get Silverwing to bond with him. She did not, but the notion alone made all jealousy he felt disappear. She continued in her efforts to find him a dragon to claim, and whenever he wanted, she would take him out on Vermithor.

If the people of KingsLanding thought, they were close before, then this was a whole new thing.

Alicent, her grandmother, had always liked her. Found her sweet and adored how she cared for Aemond.

Everyone in KingsLanding enjoyed the young princess.

They did not however like her brothers.

At first, she didn't understand, still believing that Ser Laenor was their father. That was until she met Ser Harwin strong. Seeing the way her mother looked at him, the way he looked towards Jace and Luke. The way he had taken her under his wing also and treated her as if she were his own. She knew he was her brother's father, not hers. But neither was Laenor. But she still loved him like he was and treated him as if he was. She was his favourite (another reason for the court to believe she was his) and she was always by his side, and always felt such sorrow when he went off to battle in the steppestones.

She did feel some envy of her brothers, though Ser Harwin loved her as much as he did her brothers, even sneaking off to teach her how to defend herself and swordplay, she could not shake the feeling of jealousy.

Her mother, as much as she loved her, always had a look of resentment when she saw her. She assumed it was because she looked like her father. A man she had no idea who he was a man she could only assume her mother loved. Her mother favoured her brothers, she knew it, lived with it, and resented it. All because she looked like a man whom she had never met. Though being named her mother's heir did quench some of the envy she felt, it still wasn't enough.

Her mother may always be there for her, that was no lie. But unlike with her brothers, there was a hesitance to it.

That was another reason why she wanted a sister, perhaps a sister would understand why she felt the way she did and be treated the same as she was.

But she understood she wouldn't be, no her siblings would all come from a man who loved her mother, and her mother loved back. A man who stuck around.

So, when she overheard, she had a brother, no surprise was seen on her face as she understood nothing would change. That she would be fourth on her mother's list of priorities.

Loved just as much as her brothers, but a hesitance to it.

"Muña" she called, walking down the hallway, towards her mother's chambers.

She had promised her mother she would be there for the birth, wanting to act as support and learn one day what would be a part of her own life (a fact her mother never let her forget).

She ran up to her, quick to greet her new baby brother, her brothers will be very pleased. Her father quickly appeared from another entrance, causing her to run straight into him "ugh, Kepa! Watch where you are going" she groaned, rubbing her nose

He chuckled softly "sorry, little love"

"My, my what happened to you!" her mother exclaimed, "if memory, serves you'd said you'd be her for the birth of the babe?"

She offered a sheepish smile, "Sorry mother, Vermithor wanted to go flying, ask him yourself" nodding her head, it was true to some degree, she wanted to go flying and Vermithor was more than eager to comply.

Her mother hummed in response.

"A boy! I've just heard" her father finally spoke, happily.

"Yes," mother said through pained breaths.

"Can I name him, this time mama?" she said begged. She had a very long list of names and was more than prepared to give her brother a fitting name. as much as she loved Jace and Luke, she hated their names.

Her father patted her head and said "it's up to you mother, love" before turning to her "well done, where are you going?"

"She wants to see him." Her mother hissed, walking shakily up the stairs.

She?

Alicent?

She Shook her head, Alicent had four babes of her own, surely she understands how painful birth is. She rolled her eyes. Perhaps she was getting too old. She was a grandmother after all!

"Now? I'm coming with you"

"Me too!"

"I should hope so," her mother remarked, bitterly.

"Can I hold him, Muña?" she asked, seeing her mother struggling.

Her mother looked down at her and nodded, grateful for the small rest it gave her "of course, my sweet girl"

Her father quickly offered her his arm, which was taken gratefully.

She looked down at her brother, he had the same nose as Luke, brown hair and what she could make out brown eyes. A shame. She had hoped for at least one silver-haired sibling. She was starting to feel like the odd one out.

"Was it terribly painful"

Both mother and daughter turned to look at the other and rolled their eyes.

"I took a lance through the shoulder once," he remarked, unaware of his wife and daughter's actions.

"My deepest sympathies" her mother hissed.

She was completely enchanted with her newest brother, despite his plain features, and simply choose to ignore her father and his attempts at comforting her mother, giving the babe forehead kisses, and cooing at how cute he was, but stopped upon realising he was covered in blood let out a disgusted snort. Her mother chuckled thinking it was directed at her father.

The halls were crowded with court members. Awaiting to see the newest prince. some to see if her mother had had another child sired by her father or another bastard.

Stopping for several members of the court to offer their congratulations to her mother before reaching the queen's chambers. She handed over her brother before bidding her parents farewell.

Whatever was about to happen, she had no desire to see.

And spotting Aemond walking through the corridors meant she didn't want to stick around for much longer.

"AEMOND!" she shouted, running up to him "I have another brother!"

He rolled his eyes, an action he tried to keep from her "hmmm" he said, not caring too much. She and he were walking down the corridor heading towards her family chambers.

"Congratulations Visenya! Oh, that's great news Visenya!" she mocked, putting on a deeper voice.

"Ha Ha, very funny" he spoke, unamused. Arms crossed.

"What does it even matter? Aren't they just another bas-"

"Do NOT-" she interrupted him; a stern look on her face. "They are my brothers, and that is all that matters" she spoke, tone hard, tired of Aemond's attitude. "If you're going to speak about this is will take my leave" she stared him down. Not at wanting to leave. Aemond always apologised, he hated it when he received the silent treatment from her and was often quick to apologise to prevent it.

"Sorry, Senya" he looked down. "what's his name?"

"I don't know, I have ideas, but mother probably won't listen to them!" she let out frustrated "it'll probably be some stupid name like Rhacearys or something!"

They had come up to her family chambers now, the door opened as Ser Harwin and her brothers walked in placing a dragon egg in a fire hearth inside.

"Brothers!" she exclaimed, walking in. Aemond stood by the doorway hesitant to enter.

"princess" Harwin greeted with a warm smile.

"Hello Harwin" she replied, hugging him.

"Senya" both her brothers exclaimed, before moving their eyes to Aemond "uncle," they said curtly, before looking at each other and giggling. Oh, they were up to something!

"Perhaps I should go" Aemond mumbled, moving to leave.

"I – but" she stuttered out, sad, he wanted to leave "I'll see you later? In our secret spot" she whispered the last part, winking terribly as she did so.

Aemond went to laugh but stopped after seeing something over her shoulder. Her brothers most likely. "of course," he mumbled.

"WAIT!" she ran up to him, giving him a quick hug. "BYE!"

Not long after his exit her mother and father entered the room, stopping her from confronting her brothers about whatever their plans with Aemond were.

"Mother look, we choose an egg for the baby" Jace spoke, as their mother moved to sit.

"That looks like the perfect one" she agreed, finally sitting in the chair to rest, as the cover on the eggs pot was lifted.

"We let Luke choose" Jace admitted, as Luke grew a proud smile and thanked him.

"Not every day an egg leaves the dragon pit, princess. I thought it best to escort the lads" Harwin spoke up, his eyes drawn to the babe in her father's arms.

"Laenor and I thank you, commander".

"Another boy, I heard. What a fine knight you are going to make, yes?" Harwin spoke towards the babe.

She stood by her father, looking down at the babe. He had been cleaned up since she last saw him. Much less blood.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey"

"Joffrey?" she questioned, looking between her mother and father "my list had much better names!"

"shush, now," her father whispered, patting her head and moving the babe into ser Harwin's arms.

"wasn't that your friend's name?" she questioned, looking at her father.

He gulped and nodded "Oh! Ok, it's fine then. I forgive you!" she exclaimed. Though she still hoped for a chance to rename him to something much better.

"Father, please may I hold Joffrey?" Luke spoke, trying to grab Joffrey out of Harwin's arms.

Their father tutted, moving her brothers and herself away, dismissing them to their dragon pit lessons.

next chapter

[lonelyslutavatar]

Hi, sorry to bug you but I've gone through both your blogs enough now that it feels less weird to just ask - there was an image or set of images you did a while ago showing the different stages Lonely!Martin went through appearance-wise based on whether he was feeding the Lonely or not, I only had one saved that had things like, 'drowned sea corpse aesthetic' & 'look of someone who went through a health crisis & is trying to get better' - I swear there were other ones that showed him borderline noncorporeal, etc, & I was just wondering if you still had those if I didn't just make them up in my head? If not obviously like, not gonna be upset, the way you showed the hunger & stuff was just very inspiring!

Hhh I'm sorry, I also couldn't find it...

[hopes-peak-postal-company]

For Mod Hajime, i hope this doesnt sound weird but could you do a platonic fatherly yandere imagine post with Elias Bouchard? I like to imagine he fixates on a new Institute hire who doesnt know the fears are real and just decides "Its Child time. There is nothing I wont do to make my new child happy." But he also has to work around Jon and them getting in his way because they just dont GET that he's a Father now.

A FATHER'S LOVE!

"surely you'd choose your father over your friends, wouldn't you?"

summary. getting a job at a spooky academic institute offers toms of spooky outcomes. you just didn't expect to get a father figure and a overlyprotective friend group.

contents. platonic yandere! elias; elias is a wet cat grandpa; the archivist gang are slightly yandere; happens right after season 1

✦ It was difficult. Getting by in the big London city and rent to your flat was quite ridiculously high, even for usual london rent standard. But thankfully, a position in The Magnus Institute had opened and you managed to get the spot after wrangling out your best qualities to the HR like you're trading them.

✦ Now, you were aware of what you were getting into. I mean, an institute that's notorious for having many people going MIA or dying, but this was the only job that accepted you out of the millions you applied for and frankly, it pays better than most of them.

✦ So, you worked as the institute's librarian. It shocked you to know that they have their own personal library but at the same time, you kind of expected it. After all, it is an academic institute and there's bounds to be numerous books and soucres to cite for every statement given, regardless of how strange there are.

✦ You've met a couple on the job. Some were nice and often has small talks with you while some simply comes and goes, not even bothering to talk to you unless they're checking a book out. It was fine, of course, you can't help but feel disheartened. After all, all you do is stand by, organize the library and do nothing. It gets a bit lonely sometimes.

✦ And then, one day, a certain someone came to the library and it was no one other than big boss himself— Elias Bouchard. You never met the man before, only hearing him from Rosie and the others, but he is generally well-disliked by his own staff. You had nothing to complain about him and honestly, you find his company nice.

✦ He comes to the library whenever he has free time and then would talk to you. It wasn't just small talk, not just noise coming out of his mouth to fill in the silence, but he talked to you. He told you so many things— his opinions, his likes and dislikes —and even asked you about yours.

✦ Elias would listen intently, taking in every information about yourself in a manner so ... different from how he usually carried himself. Elias Bouchard was a prideful asshole and you knew that obviously well from just his body language, and yet when it comes to you, he is oddly soft. He reminds you almost like a dad for some reasons.

✦ And your relationship with your boss became like that. You didn't mind, you understand to some degree but even still you couldn't wrap your mind around why he chose specifically you. Maybe he didn't choose or maybe he did, but either way, this outcome was better than him hating you.

✦ But then, only a few months into your job, you suddenly got promoted to assistant archivist, joining the very few others in the archives in their day-to-day life.

✦ It was ... suffocating at first. The institute did suffer damage from the Prentiss Attack as you heard from the other employees and with the archives being the main target for the worms, it was not surprise that the Archivist and his team suffered greatly. Though injured, all of them still came back in one piece so that was a good thing.

✦ It took a while getting to know the others: Martin was the quickest to befriend and he'd bring you your favourite cup of tea whenever he can. Tim was the second, jokingly flirting with you at first but he was comfortable to be around and somehow both of your intensive knowledge on memes made the two of you friends. Sasha, on the other hand, took a bit more effort but in the end, she was just as fun and cheery as the other two outside work.

✦ Jon, on the other hand... He was wary, of course, a bit of an asshole too but you were determined to let his walls down, and so was the team. He gradually came to accept (aka get comfortable with) your existence and doesn't glare you like a cat you just rudely woke up.

✦ Elias... Elias isn't too pleased with this development though as you come find. He finds every excuse in the book to have you in office, stalling you just so he could spend more time with you. He had moved to the archives for one very specific reason and that was so he can watch you carefully.

✦ I mean, how couldn't he? You were so nice to him, oblivious to the concept of the entities and you didn't even care if he gets a bit 'spooky' (as Tim puts it) at times. In fact, he claimed you as his kid the moment you seem to play along with his 'little cryptid act'.

✦ But The Archival team... Oh, did they get on his nerves. But he couldn't do anything, no, he was sure you'll know and they'll tell you about what he truly is and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't lose you to them, so he'll have to just slightly abuse his power a bit. Just to have you be by his side a bit longer.

✦ Of course, Archivist and Co. can't stand by idly and watch him take their friend! And so, everytime Elias and one of them come to your desk at the same time, it's practically a tug of war for your affection and attention.

✦ It makes you laugh honestly, seeing them fight like this. Reminds you so much like a father trying to shoo away any his kid's admirers.... Only if you knew though, then you wouldn't be laughing.

notes. hi hii!!! tysm for requesting this!! i always wanted to write for tma but couldn't. ik this is a pretty old req (i think like .... from june i think?) and i wrote this months ago but forgot to finish

reqs are alwyas open!! and dont forget to reblog any of our works here on this blog, it help us a lot!!! ty again for requesting!