#undertaker is the villain for now

[plague-of-insomnia]

I don’t know why this is such a difficult concept for the fandom to grasp.

[danwhobrowses]

You know, as much as I would've loved a massive catharsis-led triumph over Athion Zathuda in battle, possibly left at the mercy of the vibrant flames of Fearne's Titan form reiterating herself with aplomb as Fearne Calloway, I actually kinda love how the narrative chose to defeat him. In many ways it is just hilarious, but also ironically in-character. Man talked all about wanting to prove himself, had a grandiose title of 'Sorrowlord' and was looking to be both a physical and mental adversary after threatening to torment Fearne into becoming Exaltant by targeting her loved ones. But then when he is pit against Bells Hells he barely does a thing; he tries to talk his way into turning Fearne again, gets jumpscared by Ira, the 'farm girl' he mocked to Fearne commandeers his dragon, he loses a leg and is thrown off his dragon, and the Hells even opt to keep him alive for some reason in 107 before kinda accidentally offing him in 108.

He thought he was the shit, but enemies of true threat like Ludinus, Otohan and Liliana (a threat before she was turned) looked down on him, and thus his attempts to prove them wrong - while also falling into the same trap as Ashton's father in seeking out a personal destiny and being willing to see their child as a tool to do it - bore no fruit at all, he was practically an afterthought through and through, his dragon really being his entire threat level. In the end, he got killed running (well, hobbling) away, and while Gloamglut's keening was a little sad in a way that a pet cannot fathom the moral complexity of having to kill their owner he still had it coming, plus following his eternal torture in the Tiki Bar of Ligament Manor, the last sorrow he wrought was his own; he achieved nothing, everything he hints he did to get to his position was for naught, and for all the fear and danger he tried to make himself possess he truly had no power over anyone, especially not Fearne - who can only pity him and, as further proof of being better than he ever was, hope that he takes the time to reflect on his sorrows.

[autumnmobile12]

7 Ways to Introduce the Villain.

1. The Shadow

A lot of series go with the classic 'ominous shadowy figure in the background.' Here's Silco in Arcane. Sinister voice, sinister dude, sinister intent. Boom, you have your villain.

2. The Slow Reveal

Other variations of the 'shadowy figure' in which the series draws out the reveal of the villain. Avatar: The Last Airbender doesn't reveal the Firelord until the final season, but his presence is felt throughout the series. He's always this looming threat whose will is carried out by his underlings. (General Zhao, Azula, etc.)

3. The Fabulous Entrance!

Okay, so we do hear Ragyo on the phone a couple times before they actually show her face, but goddamn, this entrance. It is impressive and terrifying and, it perfectly suits the utter psycho that she is.

There is no normal expression this woman makes when she's 'happy.' She's always smug or angry or annoyed, but this face with her staring, manic eyes and smile still haunts me. Send help.

4. The Sudden Entrance

Shigaraki kinda comes out of nowhere in My Hero Academia. For the first few episodes, its all lighthearted and fun and dealing with Bakugo's BS and then the class heads off on a field trip and suddenly,

"Oh, shit! Plot is happening!"

This series started off with kids learning to be heroes, and now its tragedy and social upheaval and people's lives are in danger.

5. The Incognito Entrance

This is when some random nonthreatening dude/lady just kinda sidles into the plot the be the butt of a joke and later turns out to have been one of the villains.

This scene was so weird. Tyki is just minding his own business, scamming people at cards. Then Allen and Lavi show up looking for their friend (the guy currently being scammed), and even though he recognizes them as exorcists and his enemies, Tyki has to sit there and play it off like he doesn't know jack cause if he does anything, he's gonna blow his cover in front of his human buddies. And then he suffers the indignation of being stripped in a poker game in broad daylight because the main protagonist is absolutely evil with a card deck. And then he just walks away from this like it's a totally normal thing, not even really taking vengeance for it. (He went after Allen, sure, but that was more of a job than any personal vendetta.) He's not the main villain, but I couldn't resist pointing out how bizarre this is.

For those who haven't seen D. Gray Man, the guy in the center is one of the main antagonists, and though this is technically the second time you see him, the first encounter was so short it was practically a cameo and he was a Victorian-era, Dorian Gray dandy gentleman, not this hobo riding a train.

6. The Traitor

Since the Undertaker was more of a neutral party in Black Butler, I don't think he really counts as a traitor. Still, I don't think too many of us were suspecting the morbid jokester Grim Reaper was going to turn out to be a major antagonist later on.

7. The Protagonist

And sometimes the protagonist is the villain!

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 08/Sept/2023 Phew, doing draft after draft of plan is a lot!

I know that putting in all this effort now will pay off  when I actually come to write it (though I may have already loosely drafted a couple of scenes because I can’t help myself… :D) as well as make it a lot smoother when I get to it…but knowing what is coming is making me SO eager to write already, hehe! :D

This week, I spent some time looking at how to add in the villain romance. It’s definitely got a much different feel than the romance-y Unit Bravo ones, lol! But then I want it to be unique with it’s own feel, so it definitely works.

The more I plan in, the more I think it’s a definite that I’ll be adding it.

But I also want to make sure there are points where you can end that romance if you want to, especially because it might get too intense for some people. Definitely want that exit option in there at multiple places!

Planning this romance also means a very different shift in mindset from the vampires’ romances, not only because they’re a not a good person, lol, but also because it is a one book romance. I need to switch from thinking about the romance as a long term thing that can grow over multiple books, to something that needs to start, get involved, and then end in one book! It’s not that it can’t be done, especially with the intensity that’s burning between the MC and the villain if the character goes this route, but I don’t want it to feel like it’s rushed :D

I also spent last weekend, and will be spending all weekends, on starting the spruce up of Book One! That’s been seriously fun to read back through that! It’s not going to be anything major, catching any remaining bugs and spelling errors, matching things up better to later events, etc. But I did realise just how much Book One feels like a different style than Two and Three, so I want to update it to feel more like how I write now, which is a bit of an undertaking. My plan is to make it not too obvious but make the whole series feel more cohesive!

Just shows how much our styles can adapt and change as we evolve as creators!

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, but I’ll talk to you all again on next week!

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: We are back with a question from Scurvy Piratehog! “The world in Sonic has had many different names over the years, and now it's settled on Earth. But… just for fun’s sake, what if all the leaders of the world decided to rename the planet ‘Sonic's world’ as a way to show gratitude to all Sonic has done? How does the Sonic cast react to the fact their planet is now literally called ‘Sonic's world’?”

IAN FLYNN: Knuckles starts a club that refuses to acknowledge it. Shadow and Eggman are the first to join. KYLE: [cackles, then as Eggman] “The hedgehog conquered my planet?!” IAN: [chuckles] I mean, it’s not gonna sway Eggman. He’s just even more driven to conquer it and rename it. KYLE: Exactly! IAN: Shadow and Knuckles are a little more restrained. [as Knuckles] “We’re not calling it that.” Which, Sonic will absolutely needle them about. KYLE: [chuckles] Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. IAN: Everyone else, I think, would be kind of charmed and amused by it. Sonic especially. Just, like, [as Sonic] “Heh, okay. If that’s what you wanna commit to. I’m still gonna run around it.” KYLE: [as Sonic] “Bunch’a weirdos.” [laughs] I think that’s what Sonic would think. IAN: Surge is actively trying to blow up the core of the world. Just destroy all. [as Surge, with desperation] “Dark Gaia, wake up! You got work to do! Come on!” KYLE: [laughing] IAN: Starline rises from the grave. [as Starline] “Oh HELL no!” KYLE: [laughter escalates to wheezing hysterics] Why is that so funny?! IAN: Like, just straight up, one-handed lifts the rock up. [as Starline] “Mm-mm! No, no, no, no, no!” KYLE: [wheezing, barely coherent] Why? Why is that so funny?! IAN: [chuckles] KYLE: [through tears?] Why can I so easily envision it?! IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Oh no… [makes himself laugh again thinking about it] IAN: [as Starline] “Zavok, all is forgiven. What do you need?” KYLE: [laughing] Starline waking— IAN: [unintelligible, then as Zavok] “I didn’t know we were on speaking terms.” [as Starline] “They’ve called it— they’ve renamed the planet Sonic’s World.” [as Zavok] “Oh hell no!” KYLE: [more laughter] This is like the Undertaker waking up in the coffin! IAN: [laughs] KYLE: All the villains, “aw, hell, no!” Nobody’s happy! IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Oh, outstanding. [chuckles] Oh, wow. Jet would be pissed. IAN: [cackles] KYLE: Everyone’s mad, like— every villain is just- just absolutely losing their crap. [laughing] Oh, man. Thanks, Scurvy. 

—– TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

[therobotmonster]

I'm bringing Hexy back.

Good visual reference on Hexadecimal (And Reboot in general) is shockingly hard to find, so when I found a guy who had done 4k upscales of the series on YT, it was time for some screencaps.

It's a pity the first(ish?) truly all-CG cartoon was probably not preserved in a state that would let it be re-rendered at higher resolution. What was at the time a massive technological undertaking could be rendered real-time on a mid-tier computer now.

Her whole mask-swapping gimmick was, itself, a way of turning tech limitations into an interesting feature. Save time on facial animation and lip synch while making her more memorable.

Every action cartoon series needs a villainous femme fatale, and Hex dispenses with most of the subtlety. She's a dominatrix-witch with a, uh, sprite-tight red leather bodysuit and latex or possibly black painted metal gloves and thigh-boots.

None of us should have been surprised by Blackarachnia is all I'm saying.

And like any good villainess, she's got a full on murder-mode.

And this is going to take more than one post.

Hexadecimal, from Reboot (1994, season 1, Mainframe Entertainment)

[goodstuffhappenedtoday]

10 years ago, Batkid was battling bad guys and cancer — now he's 15 and healthy

Today, Miles Scott is a healthy teenager with a passion for baseball. He plays catcher for his high school in Tulelake, Calif. "I wear all-black in baseball," Miles said. "So the dugout's always screaming 'Batkid! Batkid!'" Ten years ago, the then-5-year-old Miles won hearts both in his hometown and around the world when he transformed into the black-clad superhero Batkid for a day, becoming an instant media sensation. The Make-A-Wish Foundation, a non-profit that grants wishes to children who are seriously ill, partnered with the City of San Francisco to organize the adventure for Miles, who had been battling acute lymphoblastic leukemia since he was just 18 months old. According to the Yale School of Medicine, the disease is the most common type of childhood cancer. Survival rates used to be low, but these days children with the disease have up to a 90% chance of going on to lead a healthy life. Granting the wish Make-A-Wish went to elaborate lengths to make Miles' dream of becoming Batman's sidekick Batkid true. The foundation enlisted the help of The Mayor of San Francisco (the late Ed Lee), the San Francisco Police and Fire Departments, the San Francisco Giants and many other individuals and entities. San Francisco was re-dubbed "Gotham City" — Batman's fictional home — for the day. Clad in his Batkid costume and accompanied by a grownup Batman (played by Eric Johnston), the pair zipped around in their Batmobile thwarting villains — they prevented The Riddler from robbing a bank vault — and undertaking daring rescues, including freeing the San Francisco Giants' mascot Lou Seal from The Penguin's clutches.

Thousands of people descended on San Francisco to cheer Miles on. He earned a key to the city. The San Francisco Chronicle published a special edition of its daily newspaper to mark the occasion. Then-U.S. President Barack Obama sent Miles words of encouragement via a video message on social media. "The feeling was palpable; you could just feel the positiveness and how the community came together," said Miles' mom, Natalie Scott. "People flew in from everywhere and it just gave everyone some sense of peace almost." The event was covered by many mainstream media organizations, including NPR. And millions of people around the world followed the #Batkid hashtag on social media. Batkid lives on Batkid's legacy didn't end on that day.

The wish was the subject of the 2015 Warner Bros. documentary, Batkid Begins. Media organizations have revisited the story over the years. "He plays Little League, attends fifth grade, helps on his family's farm and sold his first market goat at the fair over the summer," reported his hometown California paper, The Siskyou Daily News, on Batkid's fifth anniversary in 2018.

And Miles himself has been free of cancer for the past few years. "Every year he goes for a checkup, and everything's been on the straight and narrow, so, we hope to keep it that way," said Nick Scott, Miles' dad. Miles has grown out of his Batkid costume. But his kid brother Ben donned it last Halloween. Miles is now in high school and is looking ahead to the future. "Right now, he's dead set on going to Alaska and being a 'pack mule' for his cousin's husband's guide business," said Natalie Scott. "And he has a lot of interest in welding. So we'll see!"

[monstersdownthepath]

How do you feel about the new Rakshasa lore in 2e?

------

I... I don't know, to be honest. In 1e, Rakshasa were the results of mortals binding their souls to totems and nature spirits, living on the world as parasites. Whenever they died, through violence or through time, they would push a newborn soul from its vessel and take its place, being reborn again and again. It exemplified how terribly selfish they were, so awful and twisted that it physically twisted their bodies. A good rakshasa is practically unheard of, because the ritual to become one is so vile and the method to remain one so terrible that no soul with any goodness in it would dare to undertake it! Much like with Hags, a rakshasa isn't evil because it's a fiend, it's a fiend BECAUSE it's evil, its monstrous behavior transforming it into a literal monster.

But in 2e, this is no longer the case at all. In 2e, Rakshasa are primordial spirits born at the moment the gods decided what was Good and what was Evil. They were born, created by the gods, to specifically fulfill the purpose of enacting Evil in its every form, to give solid and unambiguous definition to the question of "what is Evil?" They do evil because they're supposed to exemplify it, to serve as an example to mortals of what not to do. They literally exist to be evil until good rises to stop them! They're directly compared to actors forced into their role, with some Rakshasa even growing to detest it (though most revel in it), but performing it nonetheless because it's all they've known to do. They rise, they act the part of the villain, they perish at the hands of heroes risen to stop them, and then they are reborn to do so again and again and again.

It's a cool idea, certainly, but with so much solid and interesting lore already dedicated to them, it feels... bad? to just throw it all out? Rakshasa felt special in that they all used to be a mortal who was willing to perform the ultimate profanity in order to secure immortality. That each one, from the lowly Raktavarna to the highest of the Immortals, was born because someone was terrified of what death held for them. Now they just... literally exist to be the villain of whatever story NEEDS a villain. It could be good, but I wish that doing it didn't come at the cost of everything else before it, which was ALSO good.

[idkfitememate]

Tired of normal guy readers, where are my fucked up little guy readers? Where are my psychopaths and yandere readers? My monster readers??

I’m tired of being the damsel in distress I wanna be the one who kidnaps the princess- I don’t give a shit if I win I wanna be a silly little guy who killed millions just so a silly man in overalls can come beat my ass!

I want to be the villain!! I wanna be the bad guy!! Wanna write some crazy readers…

In the same vein, better insane rep! Sure the crazy psychopathic laugh this is always great, a tried and true method, but what about my quiet crazies? The ones who use pretty privilege to get away with stuff? My calm crazies? I want more variety!!

Let the inane have no sad backstory, let the crazies do their stuff while knowing full well that what they are doing is perfectly wrong, POS (pieces of shit) who do the things they do just because it’s fun! I’m gonna write readers like that one day just you wait… just gotta stick with chaotic ones for now - ease into it…

And before anyone says anything, I love BSD - Nikolai is BBG, Danganronpa was one of the first fandoms I was truly in - Junko/Monokuma are two of my highest kins, Mahito is my favorite character in JJK, Toga and Twice were the only things keeping me with MHA, I would die for Undertaker in general, Dottore & Douma, Beam from ChainsawMan was one of my first introductions to that franchise. I know my crazies and I’d push them into oil fires. I love them very much.

Now if you excuse me I’m gonna go nurse my insane and psychopathic readers until the time is right to release them into the world. Also I need to go to sleep-

[zackprincebooks]

Golden Hour Snippets

I did some snippets of Golden Hour, the first in my Messmer-Maedhros transmigration fic series for a challenge on Discord and I decided to share them here!

Tag list:

@wyked-ao3 @chaoticfallenangel @lizurich @the-golden-comet @crashedrocket12750

@burntblanc @katenewmanwrites @glasshouses-and-stones @lorifragolina

@nczaversnick @thatuselesshuman @phoenixofthegreenwood @mushroommanchanterelle

@ilovevewritingfanfic @t0ul0ser @jev-urisk @villain-lover7899 @rivenantiqnerd

Want to be added to or removed from the tag list? Click here!

“This, Nelyafinwë, is the forge."

Messmer walks into the forge, briefly closing his eyes as he's hit by a blast of heat. Taking the initiative, Fëanáro stands in front of him to protect him from the blast. "You'll get used to the heat in time. The fire is your friend, Nelyafinwë, and it will drive your creativity just as it drives mine."

Fire is your friend. How long did Messmer fight against the fire that threatened to consume him? How long did he use it to burn and destroy?

And now he was being told to create with it?

……..

The path in Prince Ingwion's garden is made of white stones so highly polished, they gleam under the gentle light of the crystal lanterns hanging from the fence posts. Yellow flowers climb up the walls, made of the same polished stone, and fill the night air with their fragrance. A fountain in the middle sends its water into the air, and the tinkling sound as it splashes into the pool mixes harmoniously with the sounds of the evening.

Sitting in the middle of the garden is Prince Ingwion himself, adorned with the circlet of his station. Confusingly, though his circlet implies a business meeting, his attire suggests an intimate meeting between two close friends: a soft white robe with yellow lace trim and a deep green sash. The emeralds in his ears match the emerald comb holding his golden braid into place.

Messmer has misread his invitation entirely.

........

"I became aware of my existence around the time of my first begetting day, though I know not the reason why," Messmer explains. "The name of my first self was Messmer the Impaler." Even saying his old name makes Messmer shudder, but Nerdanel squeezes his hand. "I was born the son of Queen Marika the Eternal. I died undertaking a crusade under her command. When she no longer needed me, she abandoned me to my fate."

There is silence as Nerdanel absorbs the information that the fëa occupying her son is that of a stranger. But she does not let go of his hand.

"Ever you have been my son, even if I have not always been your mother," she speaks. Messmer dares to lift his head. "And if your mother has abandoned you, then let me be your mother forevermore."

........

"You're holding your breath again. Keep up your breathing rhythm. In and out."

Messmer forces himself to take in a shaky breath as Rog moves his new arm back and forth. He's laying at an angle on a padded bench with Rog behind him, bracing himself with one hand on Messmer's back. Messmer's new arm is stretched behind him, his fingers twined with Rog's free hand.

Part of the healing process, he said. They needed to make sure Messmer's new arm had the same elasticity as the old one, which was always tricky with metal limbs no matter how finely wrought they were. This involved Messmer coming into Rog's workshop multiple times a week to bend and stretch his arm in new positions. He was getting better each day and found himself using his new limb with greater ease. Soon he'll be able to wield a spear again.

But now all Messmer can focus on is Rog's hand, big and firm, pressed between his shoulder blades. He whimpers as Rog presses harder, and Rog's murmured, "you're doing so well" is not helping.

[abybweisse]

I'm starting to hate undertaker after this chapter,like is he behind all of this? Doing this to innocent children just for the sake of blood? I know he is bad because of the campania and all,but this just pure evil( I really hope he is not behind this and it turns out that someone else is doing all of this)

This was also originally submitted in August of 2023 (sorry!), so it's from many chapters ago.

Behind the curtains

He and real Ciel do seem to be behind it all, as far as the orphanage is concerned, though what Sebastian says brought the place to his attention was a donor associated with the Aurora Society. I wonder who that is, though it might not matter too much right now -- it's likely someone Undertaker dupes into helping, just like with Stoker, Ada (to an extent), and Heathfield.

It's not just about blood, even though that's what we mostly expected. Now it's blood and organs... and potentially their somewhat malleable souls.

I don't call him evil. Yana-san has said Undertaker isn't the villain. I call him misguided and morally grey.

[iceunhie]

hello!! happy 200 followers :)

could i please request a drabble with a spy au with heizou? with hero! heizou x villain! reader as romantic fluff for your event? thank you so much! and congrats on 200 once again <3

slippery as an eel in water | shikanoin heizou.

third submission !! oh my god is heizou even in character.... anyways this is kinda set in half spy and half manhwa-ish??? au idkwman i hope i satisfy u with this, nonnie 😭 anyways haha this is a weird title but it makes sense. reader is flirty so if that's what you're into then im glad if it's not then um. well.

[3/5] herospy!heizou x criminal!reader (morally grey villain) (spy/manhwa-ish au) wc 1.2k, romantic fluff. enemies to lovers. slightly chaotic format. reblogs are appreciated.

Heizou trusts his intuition.

It is his guiding hand in his journey as one of Inazuma's renowned heroes (how he was dubbed as one was beyond his interest) his ally in his quest to enact justice to those who disrupt the city's peace, his only assistant in his pursuit of criminals who have no business tainting his homeland with their irresponsible crimes. He has never ignored its judgment, nor its pull.

Now though? Seeing you, the most infamous of said criminals lounging in his office without a care in the world after a recent stealth mission of his? His intuition screams at him to arrest you and put you to prison under the Tenryou Commission's watchful eye. A good hero, a good detective, for that matter, would deem that as the primary action. But Heizou has never conformed to the standards usually met by others.

[First Name] [Last Name]. Codenamed Blank, due to the lack of information about their personal history and how his agency doesn't know a thing about them part from their full name. Which might not even be their real name at all.

One of Inazuma City's most controversial and notorious criminals — a master of elusiveness and theft, commiting immeasurable crimes right under the city's nose and remaining undeterred, boasting a bounty adding up to almost as much as the Fatui in Snezhnaya.

A criminal is sitting on his office table, waiting for his arrival. They've been Heizou's one and only focus for the past year, and the man was committed to finally catching you like he's always dreamed of. It's why he applied to be one of the Commission's intelligence agents, undertaking numerous spy missions all related to you. Still, still. When you greet him nonchalantly with a smile on your face without a care in the world, to which he definitely flinches slightly at, a little caught off guard, there's a slight challenge in your eyes, and he can't stop his mind from overruling his trusty intuition when he feels that strange, suffocating and overwhelming feeling you always seem to incite in him.

"So this is where the renowned sir Shikanoin resides when he's not off trying to catch criminals like little old me." there's a playful lilt to your tone, as if amused by the notion of him staying here.

Electro Archon help him, for all he could think about despite your obvious provocation is how your clothing matches you so well, the dark fabric clinging to your form like a shadow in the night. The faint sheen of the knife (an obvious sign of danger, but he doesn't care right now) glints when it hits the light from the window.

Thankfully, you don't seem to want to use it for now.

"Are you aware I can easily entrap you here with just a call of the doushin?" his voice, though a warning, falls flat as he takes in your position on the wide table he uses to put his case files in. In response to his poor threat, you simply release a chuckle, running your hand across your hair, and Heizou resists the urge to flush at your actions. You were a criminal, practically his arch-nemesis! Yet here you were prancing around his territory while wearing that dark camouflage clothing of yours which makes his heart stutter and break his carefully curated composure. Skimming through his casefiles from your position, you take one out from the stack of them and examine it. Of course it had to be your own. He can already see the glare of his red marker with the label 'Blank - [First Name] [Last Name].' He sees the faint scribbles of his notes and follow-ups to his investigation of you and there's a slight quirk of your lips when you read through it.

"Well, will you really do that? I doubt it." Heizou feels almost flustered when you shrug it off like it's nothing, and again, he feels that rush of something he can't name overtake his senses. This is what made you dangerous. You knew how to poke and prod and poke at blindspots and use whatever charm and wit you had at your disposal to carry out your goals, then vanish the moment he's thought he's had you in his sights. And he thought he was the unpredictable one.

For the twelve months of this little game of cat and mouse, you were the only criminal who he hasn't caught yet. The thought is infuriating and yet thrilling at the same time.

He will admit, he enjoys the chase. Even if you were dreadfully alluring and so difficult to wrangle. It was like you were an eel in water slipping his grasp the moment he puts his hand on you. A very breathtaking eel, if he had to push his eel metaphor agenda. Man alive, what was he even thinking right now?

Heizou stops his thoughts of you and focuses on the situation presented to him. You offered yourself up on a silver platter. Do you even know how easy it would be to just cuff you right now and bring you down?

Yet he doesn't, for some reason.

He needs to compose himself, he needs to focus. He can't let you get the upper hand. So he smiles pleasantly, his sage green eyes oozing with structured and amicably made facade.

"Then maybe you've come here to look for redemption? It's never too late to turn over a new leaf, you know. I'm very flattered that you came over to me despite our very… turbulent history. I didn't take you for one to be attracted to people who's here to bring you down."

A loud burst of laughter escapes you, and you wipe the tears in your eyes right afterwards. "You're still as strange as ever. I was right to find you."

"Find me?"

"Yep." you emphasize the p in your words, "And you're not wrong. I am attracted to that." God, you were shameless. He considers himself to be the smooth-talker here, but you....

"You're even more handsome up close, by the way. When you're not busy trying to trail after me like a lapdog."

"..."

Heizou can feel himself flush at the sheer audacity of your words, and what's more, he liked it.

"What do you really want?" he snaps, frowning. At his query, you get down from your position from his table, and go so close to him he could smell the faint notes of the earthy and rich scent of Cyprus wood on your person.

"It's not a want, per say, but–" you stop, before you face him and get close to his own that if he moved forward, he could kiss you. "I propose a temporary truce."

He blinks, before his eyebrows raise. You weren't the type to do this. This wasn't how your dynamic worked. He was the one who sought you out, not you.

"A truce? What for?" Though he tried to take on a questioning tone, Heizou swallows thickly from the close proximity between you two, his Adam's apple bobbing just a bit, which doesn't go unnoticed to you. And when you smile at him deviously (he can imagine the devilish horns on your head already) something tells him he was in for a very, very wild ride.

Heizou trusts his intuition.

Yet despite his intuition telling him that involving himself with you and even hearing you out was a bad idea, he puts the nagging feeling in his gut aside for now.

He's still following his intuition, of course. Totally.

His intuition may make him feel like he needs to actually think about his decision this time around, but at the genuine look on your face and that enchanting smile of yours he can't get out of his head…

Heizou slumps a little, as he sighs to himself internally. There's no harm in losing to curiosity now, anyway. Who knows? Maybe he can get more clues to who you are. Why you do things the way you do. Yeah, that's right. He's only getting information from the enemy. That's all.

"Hello? Detective Shikanoin? You there?"

He snaps his light green eyes to yours and he finally dons his signature cheeky disposition. He clears his throat, and he watches as you tilt your head in his grab for your attention.

"I still don't completely trust a criminal like you yet," you visibly roll your eyes, "But I'm willing to hear you out."

"Alright then, basically...." you begin to start, and Heizou can only hang on to every word. And no, he's definitely not admiring your side profile or how you look in the lighting of his office.

So, he'll put off trying to catch you for now, he supposes.

© 𝐦𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐞𝐞𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work. tumblr is currently my only site. dm if you see anyone impersonating me or using my work for their own content.

[serosblunt]

DekuSquad: Showering with Them (Pt. 2)

DekuSquad x (Gender-neutral) reader

Characters: Iida & Uraraka

Warnings: Mentions of nudity and hints at spicier scenes, struggles with mentla health; negative self-talk and body image issues touched on.

Description: Same as my Bakusquad showering thoughts, just with DekuSquad! Part three is coming for Tsuyu, just having writer’s block :)

—————

Iida loves to shower with you, and I mean LOVES. It’s his favourite part of the day, and you both end up in the shower at the same time everyday thanks to his meticulous extreme planning and schedules.

Duty comes first for Iida, but he finds seperating his work/life balance easier than most. Although some days more than others, it’s draining to be the boss, to detach himself so much that it takes him half the night to break-free of his ‘work’ mindset.

On those occasions, it takes a touch more persuading to get your gentle giant close enough to you to lead him back to his sanctuary, where his heart truly belongs.

After setting the temperature, you manoeuvre so you can both settle under the soft stream of the shower.

If stress was visible, you were sure you would be able to see it rolling off of your boyfriend in waves. It was if each droplet on his skin caused more of his tension to melt away.

He practically fuses to you as you hold him beneath the shower head. He was so different in those few small moments, not that you minded one bit.

He would kiss your shoulder where his forehead now lay, softly and unhurriedly; unobstructed due to his glasses laying just beyond your little haven on the benchtop.

Maybe that was what made your shower-cuddle sessions so special, his complete lack of care for anything that wasn’t you.

You were special to him, beyond that in fact.

A truth clearly demonstrated in that you were the only person on earth allowed to mess up his routine- whether that was in the evenings for your shower, or *cough cough* other business *cough cough*.

By the way, he totally has a code word for when you two are getting it on ;)))

Beyond a post-shave balm, your bespectacled boyfriend wasn’t fussed about skincare, although he often liked to sit and watch you put layer after layer of product on, what in his opinion, was your already beautiful face.

And he definitely doesn’t shy away from asking you relevant questions. However, he always rejected your advances if you came at him with creams or oils.

When you two do eventually begin to unwind for the night, barely a word is spoken.

The simple undertaking of kisses and light touches exchanged on the way to bed help push Tenya over the edge of his relaxation- ensuring he’ll get some proper rest for the next day, rather than staying awake, wracking his brain for solutions to work issues.

It also made you feel more loved and significant than you could express. The few minutes you both spent in your cramped apartment ensuite only solidified your bond- your intimacy and connection, surrounded in an unbreakable love and burning reverence.

There is no one better to boost your self-confidence than Ochaco. The woman has never said a derogatory thing to, or about you, nor have you heard of her saying such things through other people.

She was always so uniquely kind, never attacking first, not even out in the field. But if she was provoked enough, that villain would almost certainly be leaving the scene crying.

Your girl was tough as nails when she needed to be, and you loved that fire inside her.

You saw glimpses of this passion if you had slipped a little that day and talked down to yourself, or if you stood in front of the bathroom mirror a little too long.

Everyone has things they don’t like about themselves, Uraraka knew that. And she would be naive to think you were any different.

But aggressive or negative self-talk was banned in your house.

She wanted you to be honest and open about your feelings, yes, but never critical of your thoughts or emotions.

One method your loving girlfriend used to combat this was cute, flirty post-it notes left on your bathroom mirror.

That way whenever you looked at your reflection, you would be seeing what she saw in you too!

You had to admit it was a good system, especially since most mornings she was often through with her shower and out of the house before you were often awake.

Your bubbly girlfriend prided herself on being the loveable rescue hero. The safe, trustworthy looking person children and adults alike could come to and know to look out for.

A part of that look was her signature plump cheeks. You would often find yourself staring at them, marvelling, and wondering how she got her skin to be so bouncy and perfect.

After laughing lovingly at you for the millionth time for that particular occurrence, she finally gave up her secret skincare routine.

Soon after stealing this tightly guarded wisdom, you found yourself poking your own cheeks instead of Ochaco’s; which would soon become the subject of many a post-it note.

You honestly couldn’t ask for a better partner to do skincare with. She always made you try new products together, so neither of you missed out, and she never failed to keep your supplies stocked, even when you forgot yourself.

Uraraka wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin. And while her respect rivals Izuku’s in terms of your privacy, that certainly didn’t stop her from sneaking the odd glance or two when you weren’t looking.

Then again, you aren’t completely innocent of that either ;)

—————

[codenamesazanka]

Aren't you supposed to save people with a smile? Because last time I checked deku was not smiling when he "saved tenko". imo, if you can't smile while saving someone, you are probably doing something wrong...

I had a post about this last week! (with additional cope fantasy.)

………Did Deku ever smiled when he was ‘saving’ Shigaraki/Tenko?

Not just a slight upturn of the corners of the lips, but an actual smile. The smile Nana promoted; the smile All Might whenever he saved people has that Deku aspired to; the smile that Shigaraki resented because he was never saved.

(We never see Shigaraki/Tenko smile big either, despite that being Nana’s wish for Kotarou - a life full of smiles and joy, and presumably wants for her grandson too now that she sort of reconcile with him)

(the League all smiled)

It’s not a certain thing - iirc, the Todoroki Save didn’t have smiles either, and neither did the heteromorphs - but for Shigaraki and Deku, who had connections to All Might and Nana, it would be weird for them not to smile?

Perhaps the saving isn’t actually done?

I'm more convinced after Chapter 424, since Deku is upset about being unable to save Shigaraki (tho Deku seems upset about the wrong thing, imo - that Shigaraki refused to renounce the League/his friends, instead of like. him being unable to save Shigaraki/Tenko as a whole complete person, even one that isn't converted), and he seems to be unconvinced by All Might's "well, if the crying boy disappeared, he was probably fine."

But if the saving isn't done, then what does this mean? Is Shigaraki coming back somehow? So that Deku can save him completely once and for all? But what does saving him look like then, now that All For One is gone, and Tenko's traumatic hatred has been smashed?

Do we need to have Shigaraki completely give up destruction and Villainy, and everything associated with it, like the League? Ditch his conviction of being a "Hero for the Villains" (and just become a hero? a civilian that support heroes?)? Which seems to be what Deku thinks is what Tenko should've done.

For Shigaraki/Tenko (the vestige that Deku calls and acknowledges as Tenko, the one that he says is Tenko... but stayed leader of the League till the end), however, he implies through "That... depends on you guys starting tomorrow. Really, do your best" in response to Deku's claim that he already destroyed 'it' that he is instead entrusting the continuation/permanence of his destruction to Deku (and others). He's holding Deku responsible for it, he's tasking a Hero with destroying. Shigaraki thinks it's a task that a Hero like Deku will undertake, that it's heroic enough for Deku to take over. And that's significant, I think.

Because after all, Deku destroyed Tenko's hatred. Smashed it; that's the word Deku uses.

So then. Whether it's to a revived Shigaraki/Tenko, or the memory of Shigaraki Tomura, or some future version of a "Shigaraki/Tenko", or through reincarnation hijinks, how and what exactly can Deku save with a smile now?

Thanks for the ask!

[precuredaily]

Precure Daily's Sixth Anniversary

On April 10, 2018, I posted the first review in the project that became Precure Daily. It wasn't actually on tumblr at that time, but on Facebook. The plan was to watch an episode every day and just post some thoughts, but it evolved into reviews and screenshots and that necessitated a whole blog, and here we are. That was six years ago today!

Six years. It's hard to believe. I honestly, truly didn't think I'd still be doing this. Whether I petered out before the end, or managed to get it all done in the 2-3 years I anticipated, I figured I'd have stopped by now. But somehow I haven't given up yet! I'm still watching, still writing, and still getting new fans to share with, and that makes it all worth it.

The past year was slow, I will readily acknowledge it. I only got about 7 reviews out in that time, including the one that just went up earlier today, but one of those was the Go Go movie. That was a whole undertaking, it took me nine months to get out. Granted, for about 6 of those 9 months it was just sitting there unchanged. I'd open it occasionally to poke at it but then not end up getting much done. Maybe it still wasn't the best it could have been but I'm proud of it nonetheless. It was a good review for a good movie. Also, I got to review the very first All Stars, even if it was a short film. Having recently wached the most recent All Stars brings that experience full circle and it's real nice.

One small hiccup is that, at the time of writing, I haven't yet gotten out the traditional Honoka birthday post. I just haven't had time to sit down and gather artwork for it. Hopefully that'll come out in the next day or two!

Outside of the blog, let's look at the wider world of the Precure series over the last year

I said last year that I hadn't finished Delicious Party, and that's still true. When it was on air, I was watching it with a friend and she was really into it; we are going to resume watching together to finally push through it.

HIrogaru Sky's second half was good, it lacked a little bit of the driving power of the first half and the villain plot never properly came together in my opionion. I still love the characters, I think they're my favorite cast in a good while.

I did not watch Otona Precure. Although I've watched Go Go before, I want to finish this current watchthrough for the blog before I jump into it. Maybe I'll even review it as I go, that remains to be seen. I've heard mixed things about it and I'm not very big on the idea that the girls just go back to teenagers when they transform, but I'll reserve judgment.

Wonderful Precure did not appeal to me when information started coming out, and I fell off it for a few weeks when the first couple eps didn't impress me, but I decided to keep going and it's thoroughly enjoyable. I don't think it's going to crack my top 10 but it should be a solid middle of the road series.

I watched the Delicious Party Precure movie and Precure All Stars F with friends in fairly close proximity, and wow do those movies exist on opposite ends of the spectrum. DeliPa's film was one of the weakest Precure movies I've seen, while All Star F was phenomenal. I need to rewatch it.

I did say last year that the blog would look different when I finish Go Go. That is still true. I should be able to wrap that up in a few months, then comes the next phase of things. Deets when it happens.

And also just because I can, here's some recommendations for shows outside of Precure you should watch that came out in the last year-ish:

Oshi no Ko

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (featuring Wonderful Precure's Tanezaki Atsumi as a monotone elf)

SPY x FAMILY (featuring Wonderful Precure's Tanezaki Atsumi as a psychic toddler)

Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger

The Last of Us

And I think that's it for this year's update! Here's to another year of watching and writing about Precure! Thanks as always to my loyal friends and fans for making this project a success: @sailorzombiestar, @vertixscribe, PaintedOutlaw, @hanasaki-tsubomi, yugimon135 (can't tag you for some reason), and my newest fan @nono-bunny.

Here's all my previous sappy anniversary posts if you want to go back and read them.

First Anniversary

Second Aniversary

Third Anniversary

Fourth Anniversary

Fifth Anniversary

[witchmoon]

by our red string of fate.

Part 3

Pairing: Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem! Reader

Summary:  Aemond broods reflects on the night he met his love interest Y/N, leading him to reassess his current situation + internal conflicts. He also searches for creative ways to occupy his time while he his impatient ass waits to see her again.  

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW Angst, Language, Masturbation 

Author’s Note: Slow burn AF, but we’re getting there! Writing this exhausted me because heavy feels, but I love it and hope you do too! Multi-part wip / Comments always welcomed <3

ALSO- I’m actually pretty soft for Aegon, so apologies for making him an insufferable little villain in this.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

pretend to love my imperfection at least for a minute, infect my dreams with your taste, you know how to enter in me.

Aemond waits for her, conjuring sinful thoughts that begin to distract in a frustrating way, forcing him to practice a restraint that’s hard to fully commit to. He fights the temptation to comb the streets of King’s Landing in a desperate attempt to locate her, finding that he really has no patience at all. It’s a mad idea, but he begins to seriously entertain it as one day fades into the next and still nothing from Y/N.

He strategizes plans he knows he’ll never execute, mentally listing the most affluent parts of the city as his main starting points for the search he’s too proud to actually undertake. Nonetheless, he carries on with this mind-game primarily to occupy the time, attempting to stay level headed and maintain some semblance of hope that he will see her again.

The truth is he misses her, left in a state of constant wonder these past few days of where she is and why she has yet to return to him. He’d really like to know because he’s steadfast in his desire to continue building on their relationship and know her more, as well as share more of himself.

Isn’t this what she had wanted as well?

The lack of response feels damning, cutting him deeper than he cares to admit. He’s growing tired of the wait, where immediately following that night, he’d carried an abundance of ambition - so certain that all would be well. Everything had felt setup for success, but it’s quickly been replaced with agitation, though Aemond isn’t sure if it’s towards Y/N or himself.

It’s worrisome as time progresses and still no word arrives to give indication of a possible reunion between them. In this way, he begins to feel helpless, like maybe his approach had been completely off base and he’s just now fully realizing the error of his ways. Maybe he would have benefited from being less assured in the presumption that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It’s hard to know for sure.

But now when he reflects on his decision to give her full control of their fate, the intention seems deranged, even to him. It’s a regret he fears he may end up living with for the rest of his life if the tides don’t turn soon within his favor. He probably should have just been cordial, fucking normal, like any other sane person might have been, and inquired upfront where he would be able to call upon her in the coming days.

He had done nothing of the sort, which feels idiotic now. However, Aemond really hadn’t wanted to force her hand that night, even despite the overarching evidence of their mutual attraction, the undeniable chemistry. For once, he’d wanted to have the experience of being pursued.

And he didn’t regard the approach as a game, so much as a selfish experiment to prove to himself that he was wanted - and not wanted by just anyone, but by the very same person he wanted too.

Perhaps it’s in ignorance, but he’d also thought at the time that the universe should just go on and conspire with her for what came next. He had been willing to take that chance without further intervention, because his faith in what he’d been feeling since meeting Y/N had already instilled a confidence in him that they were of the same mind.

However, lately he’s been second guessing his choices, finding only criticism when he re-examines his former train of thought on the topic. Perhaps it had been a grave misjudgment to bypass the finer details and fail to put some insurances into play to prevent this uncertainty, but he’s rather slow to convince himself of this as a possible fact. He doesn’t want to be that cynical, not yet, and he holds out hope that if it’s meant to be, then it will be.

You need to accept this.

She’s worth the wait, he’s convinced, recalling so many qualities he had identified during their brief time together - the sincerity of her words and the kindness of her actions.

There was also the physical attraction - substantial from his viewpoint with her devastating beauty, how she possessed that and intelligence, more than any other women he’d ever encountered before. And he would know because he's hyper-observant, rather particular and aware of the personality traits and habits of those he meets.

The laughter and wit, recalling the utter sweetness of her leaves him to miss her impossibly. And he’s fully aware that she’s the only reason he’s still remained at the capital, never intending to stay beyond the week. In any other scenario, he would have been gone already, providing whatever vague excuse necessary to resume traversing the skies, anything to get away from here.

Even before Aegon’s name-day celebration, he’d already intended to head North following the event, overdue for a visit to the abandoned ruin nestled deep in the moon mountains. If there was ever a secret that Aemond kept, it was this one - an unmapped location that he had discovered and claimed for his own some years ago.

It was mere happenstance that he’d come across the location while scouting enemy lines with Vhagar. It had good structural bones, and he’d immediately idealized the design of a secret refuge in his mind - one in which he could escape to on a whim. Gods knew he needed a place that wasn’t under the same roof as his mother or brother, but it had developed to be so much more.

Keeping his project under wraps, Aemond took to repairing and furnishing it on his own, though progress had been painstakingly slow as second priority to his duties to the crown. Nonetheless, it had transformed in time to become functional and then livable again - something he took great pride in.

In ways, it’s become more his home than the Greens primary residence in the Red Keep, which is a place he never felt any great attachment too.

If he’s honest, he longs to return to the mountains sooner than later, keen to reconnect with the surrounding nature and all the tranquility that only a place that remote can afford. It’s a peace unlike any he’s ever known, one that certainly can’t be found in the city. And when he’s there, he’s always consumed by a sensation of walking on hallowed grounds - of being deeply connected to a worshipful wilderness, an inherent freedom.

i'm so disgusted by the victories i never conquered, i feel sorry for the defeats i am roughly heading to.

The memory of this beckons his soul, just as finding any opportunity to disconnect from the rest of the world will always have an attractive pull on him. And after the recent mouthful he’d received from the small council regarding his “abominable” behavior towards Aegon, he’s less inclined to stick around now, having grown tired of playing the role of the devoted prince regent on standby.

The resentment towards his station had peaked that night, inevitable and leaving him to fume over the reprimands, how he’d been told he was actually the problem. But it hadn’t stopped there, for Aemond had also received a subtle warning to refrain from romantic pursuits and engaging further with “outside distractions”. It was clear as day what they were implying.

Fuck the council and fuck Aegon.

Despite this anger, he refuses to leave the city, finding it an impossible task when he knows the woman of his dreams is somewhere just beyond these suffocating red walls. It’s excruciating being left in limbo though, and it feels like a personal purgatory stationed inside this damned fortress - the very place he’s been kept chained to for far too long.

She’s out there somewhere, and she’s walking around with my heart in her hands.

Aemond simply cannot leave yet, finding the thought unimaginable without seeing Y/N again, but he’s getting worn down the longer he remains. The majority of his time here revolves around politics and scheming, of treachery and family dramatics - all topics that hold some responsibility for the irreparable damage done to him over the course of his life.

It feeds his disgust, anger and rage, pushing him closer to the edge of his sanity, thinking any second could be the moment he finally breaks. He’s all too aware of how close he is, pressured to the point that surely it will be impossible for him to be put back together. And if that happens, he can’t begin to anticipate the level of self-destruction that might follow in its wake.

Please come to me darling, I am running out of time.

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from her, only certain that something powerful exists when they’re together. And although it's a very broad assumption, he still can’t shake the feeling that there’s potential - a capability for more intimacy between them. It’s a higher love that’s being sought, and Aemond thinks it’s entirely possible that they could become each other’s haven if they so wished.

During this time of so many unknowns, having one constant could also be the difference between him giving a fuck about his life and what happens to him or not at all.

While he doesn’t want a savior per se, and would never press that upon her or anyone else, having something rooted for him to cultivate and grow and protect would be profound. It’s an idea he wants realized more than he’s ever admitted to anyone, even himself as he considers the night they met - how she’d inadvertently set the scene so perfectly for him, making the conquest seem like the obvious next step.

I would have her.

He’d been so drawn to Y/N, enticed by her mirrored interest in him and disinterest in everything else around them. Then there was her curious demeanor of contradictions, something he found relatable in that she had placed herself somewhere she didn’t actually want to be. Similarly, she’d been close to tears, eyes brimming with emotions and then a moment later, ready to convert that frustration into something more physically damaging.

It enticed him, to say the least. Instinctually he knew she was remarkable, someone to be adored and admired - cared for in a way maybe she never thought possible. And he felt capable of being the one to see this realized for her, wanting to be that person, rather precipitously hoping she might be agreeable to the design.

He was certainly up for the challenge.

you know how to softly torture, you know how to torture my innocence.

Although Aemond has never been in a serious relationship, he doesn’t refute the existence of a love that can persist between two people. To the contrary, he’s retained his romantic tendencies - holing them up all his life to remain stagnant, concealed, lying in wait until called upon by a pre-eminent receiver. At least that’s how he’d always secretly dreamt it would happen.

And it would seem that time for him may have finally arrived. However, there are certain realities he has to consider too, as bothersome as they are to recount…

He is complicated - thought of as damaged, even culpable by many and though it stings, he wouldn’t necessarily argue such generalizations regardless of how misguided they usually are from an outsider’s perspective.

Admittedly, his wounds have been slow to heal due to being so heavily stemmed and indefinitely attached to the last vestiges of his humanity. In fact, it’s the bad memories that keep him infected in such a way that it feels inescapable, burdensome, even after all this time.

In this regard, Aemond has struggled, weighted by an anger that’s allowed his hurt to define him so greatly, for so long - to the point that even he’s repulsed by his inability to simply accept and release all that’s been lost, all that will never be regained.

Though he tries to do this, the idea of moving beyond his past seems inconceivable with each attempt he makes, easier to just convince himself that a blissful way of living isn’t ever going to be part of his destiny. It’s a truth thats often driven him to the conclusion that he’s simply undeserving of such experiences anyway.

And if proven correctly, he wouldn’t be surprised, because he knows how fucking difficult he can be and how deep within himself he can go, to the point of being untouchable both physically and emotionally. It’s a defense mechanism, and he has no other explanation.

Who would want that? Who would want me?

For most of his life he’s been living at a distance from people for this very reason. Yet at the same time, he’s measured his own value based on other’s acceptance and understanding of him. It's a hard reality for a dreamer such as Aemond, especially as someone who has inherently always needed love, but has never known how to ask for it.

i’m not allowed to love - then i don't have to suffer and no heart breaks.

It’s a disheartening cycle, one he mulls over almost daily just to find some peace of mind, a semblance of control. But it just puts him in a fouler mood, with everyday feeling more intolerable than the prior, like a constant navigation through hellfire as he struggles to hold on.

He goes on searching for an abidance to his ruined fate, willing something that just won’t come, but he knows why - he still wants to believe in something beyond the tangible, an elusive magic he’s been chasing since boyhood.

Its fucked up, but most days he doesn’t really feel like he’s living either, which is something Y/N had expressed as well. It’s like a dagger to the heart, a permanent ache that he’s deeply intimate with. Somehow it hurts him more to know she shares these same controversies, hardships in life that have left her wanting with a spirit at least half-broken.

But he believes he could provide something of substance, something meaningful thats been absent in her life too. His caring nature compels him towards this idea and there’s a confidence in his capability. It’s reinforced when he reflects on the multitude of ways he’s demonstrated his loyalty and devotion throughout his life - in many a variation, primarily towards his dysfunctional family.

From a romantic perspective, he’s not yet put such behaviors into practice, but they must exist. He’s a giver, certain to be an attentive partner as well, and he’s motivated to provide more than one might expect because everything inside him has been so damn pent up.

It’s just something he finds that he wants to do with an eventual love, though this could be a means to overcompensate for how imperfect he feels he is… Unfortunately, he’s also an over-thinker, easily overtaken by suspicion and charted to question the motivations of others.

It’s just very difficult for him to grasp the concept that someone could want him and he reckons it's the control freak within that automatically cages him to cause further discourse.

Yes, idiot - it is.

It’s a figurative wall that’s proven to be as impenetrable as it is detrimental to his life, his happiness, at least until recently. Aemond continues to make efforts to improve on this front, finding its coming more naturally than before, which he accredits to a developing maturity and the natural passage of time. Even so, he never really escapes from this theory that everything will forever remain in opposition between his head and his heart, regardless of how hard he tries to claw out of the abyss, course correct old habits and persevere.

Still, he will continue to try.

All he’s ever wanted is a love so impossible.

not to be a cliche, but i feel bewitched.

He thinks about her again and all the characteristics that had registered to him, like how she was free-thinking and independent, yet still demonstrated a need to be supported - cared about and for, by someone. And there were also instances where her confidence felt lacking, but not in every aspect, which had immediately resonated for him.

During their first exchange she had really seemed so alone, and she was alone, he had found out later. But that initial first glance and his impression of her from across the room had really pushed him to go to her in an unfathomable way. Then when Aegon had shoved against her, even bold enough to try and lay a claim on her, he’d felt ready to break his brother’s face.

That encounter still plagues him, but there are so many additional draws now, including the benefit of anonymity. He can’t get over how when they had finally spoken, he’d realized rather quickly that she wasn’t familiar with him or his turbulent history, and that alone, was reason enough to be captivated.

It really is so rare, and Aemond is still unsure how to fully react, having no previous comparison to draw from. He can’t remember a time when someone wanted to know him, who didn’t already know him in one way or another, and the reality of this is incomparable.

There’s such a purity to the concept for him, despite still having reservations. He doesn’t necessarily doubt their compatibility, but he’s also not confident enough to assume anything she might actually feel. He needs to experience her to know for sure.

Along these lines of honesty, he also doesn’t want her to view him as someone in passing, who was nice to her in a moment of need, but nothing more or less coming from it. It's a depressing thought for him, especially since he already knows he wants more…

That blasted kiss.

He still hopes she’ll reach out. He was so sure she would as he walked away from her that night, but again, the certainty of the moment has since waned. To counteract this and tame the evolving distress, he’s tried his damnest to remain occupied in body and mind as a means to pass the time, but nothing is really coming to him as a viable distraction.

The anticipation blows as he stalks through the gardens in an attempt to quell his anticipation for he knows not what, but the Keep, even his own room has begun to feel like a prison again. He’s grown antsy in the wait, and it's tiresome when the memory of her lips flood through his mind again and again, the wine taste that lingered on them…

It leaves Aemond impossibly frustrated.

He wants more, glad he’d finally had the opportunity to initiate and act on their kiss. Truth be told, he was so close to doing it in the courtyard, but he just couldn’t, withdrawing at the last minute, preferring they didn’t have an audience for that first time.

Of course, people could have simply been looking at her, as she certainly drew attention with her looks, for which she seemed completely unaware of and he still can’t understand that phenomenon. But as a precaution, he’d thought better of it, and he can’t say that he’s disappointed how the events had unfolded in the godswood just a time later.

She had been so lovely, personable, thanking him for such basic things that had come natural for him to provide. It’s a sweet memory that leaves him yearning to give her more of that, whatever she needs.

The way she’d just stepped into his arms without preamble had come with such an unexpected impact to his heart - one he hadn’t been prepared for, though he was elated to receive her in his embrace. He could tell that she was someone who needed someone, and that sensation of hope that he could be her person lingers on.

You just don’t open yourself like that, hold someone like that and make them feel like the most important person in the world to then never want to see them again.

He’s fucking convinced of this.

i'll need a cruel master who will save my vicious soul, but a master i will hate…

After several hours of field training, Aemond returns to his rooms sweaty and exhausted.

He’d pushed himself further today than ever before, at least that he could recall, spurred by his own growing irritation of feeling so fucking forlorn. Despite his pointed efforts, he’s no less despondent within the privacy of his bedchamber upon return, alone once more to sit with his thoughts.

He feels unhinged when he erratically begins undressing, breaking the fastenings on his sporting tunic along the way. He needs to be freed of the layers as soon as possible, bothered beyond belief by such material confines.

The garment drops to the floor where he’s standing in record time and then he’s unraveling bit by bit as he quietly revels in the sensation of the cool air hitting his naked chest. He pulls his shirt over his head, quickly adding the bundled heap to join his belts and sheathed weapons.

His belongings lay scattered, haphazard about the floor as he begins pacing the room with no clear intent on what his next move is.

Nonetheless, the space seems to cave as he welcomes the subtle draft that permeates to caress upon his heated skin as if it were a woman’s lips. As soon as that visual takes form, he curses himself for conjuring the very thing he’s been working hard to expel from his riddled brain all day.

He rolls his eye with self-directed discontent, proceeding to pull his eyepatch off just to chuck it with substantial force against a neighboring wall. Damnation. It becomes impossibly warmer with his body temperature rising from two day’s worth of repressed anger as he pulls the cord from his hair to let it fall loose.

He tries to make sense of it again, but his locks are damp and tangled from his extreme physical exertions. It bothers him enough to gather the mass and knot it up on this rare occasion - needing to have it completely off his neck and shoulders because its become a great nuisance. Fuck this Targaryen hair!

He just can’t be fucked, unbothered by his less than pristine appearance at the moment. Not that it matters, not that anybody is even with him to observe this raw and roughened physical state anyway.

He collapses in a nearby chair, huffing as he settles into it in a way that is bratty in nature. He could counter the notion however, chalking it up to an inherent need to blow off excess steam that’d recently accumulated within him - how it brims now, threatening to spill with indignation.

As he kicks off his boots, Aemond also resists the urge to return to his feet and find something valuable to break. There’s a frenzy in the way he’s ready to rip the hope he’s been harboring in vain from his chest to tear into shreds, cursing the abundance of his naivety. Mostly he’s just mad at himself, which is nothing new.

My shitty heart can get ripped out too…

In the anger of the moment, it feels infinite and he’s so tempted to just fuck it all and depart from King’s Landing tonight. Leave with Vhagar and disappear indefinitely. He has half a mind to do it in his current state, knowing how easy it would be to forgo family dinner and begin packing right away for the journey to the mountains.

It’s an attractive idea, but he’s too worked up to seriously entertain it at the moment. No - just impossible to consider when he’s wound so tight with disappointment and self-loathing as another realization hits him head-on.

He’s been taken for a fool, essentially ghosted. And he’s fucking offended! But what’s really sending him in a spiral and messing with his head is that he still wants Y/N.

…or that maybe will save me.

He’s mad over the untamed desire he still holds for such a wicked offender - the one primarily responsible for all his angst. But he wants the opportunity to lash out, punish her with his passion, and disrupt her world to the extent that it’ll leave her questioning her entire life. It’s delusional and cruel and he doesn’t care.

Feel what I feel and hurt the way I hurt. You’ve caused this.

Aemond gets caught up, head in his hands as he visualizes them together in an intimate way. And it’s dangerous how he imagines throwing her on his bed, rough in demeanor because it’s what he thinks she deserves after keeping him on the precipice between love and hate like a puppet master.

In his mind, he descends on her with an implied ownership of her body as his fingers learn her - every dip and outline, all the beauty marks and undiscovered places he intends to burn with his lips.

He sees himself doing this while ripping the clothes from her body, using his dagger if necessary to cut her out of her dress, ultimately forbidding her to hide behind her hands with modesty once bare before him.

The visual of this behind Aemond’s closed eye gets him bothered, aware of the strain on his tightening trousers as he touches his fingertips delicately against his lips, his own throat, and then to the prominent veins that surface his neck. He’s reminded of the subtle pressure from her lips against the spot below his ear - a place he touches now, too.

He recalls how whisper soft her touch had been, almost indiscernible when they’d held each other that night and he longs to feel that again. But more deeply now, with a desperation from her that she can’t deny and doesn’t try to hide. It’s killing him as he progresses his imagination, moving her naked body beneath his, writhing as she begs to be kissed by him while he pounds into her relentlessly.

Fuck! His entire body tingles with the wild thoughts and he acknowledges his body’s need for relief - all the parts of him that have been physically aching for too damn long. And this specific ache has reduced him to such a needy state that he actually thinks he might die if he never sees her again. It’s a devastating thought and he rejects it vehemently.

I will find you, no matter what. You belong with me.

But for now, he’s tired, high-strung, vaguely annoyed and impossibly turned on. There’s no getting around it when his dexterous hands skim down his abdomen to the opening of his trousers and then he’s releasing his manhood - so fucking hard within his own grasp as he begins stroking himself.

It’s self-gratifying, sensual and so natural, but he’s never felt this level of intensity before when getting himself off. It’s clear why, as the current situation develops - a fantasy formulating where his hand is actually hers.

It's so easy to do and then he’s taking off, as if she were real and before him, doing these things in real time.

When he licks his lips, he pretends it’s her doing it and when he’s biting his lower lip, his teeth become hers to capture and tease. So he bites harder and fucks himself off faster as his low moans begin to fill and circulate the room, breathless sounds the closer he gets.

He’s disintegrating, losing himself to the pleasure as his head falls back, long legs sprawled wide, sinking further into the chair. His abdomen is tight, muscles bunching and dancing in the flickering candle flames. But although it feels so damn good, there’s still a deep longing present - for his pouty lips have missed the opportunity to be truly kissed, and his lithe body continues to exist beyond the admiration of a real worshipful touch.

The loss is great and it’s killing him, knowing he deserves more than this as his heart starts to pound and evened breaths become harder to maintain. But still he goes on, taking what he can get and making the best of the situation.

And the best that he can do to get him over the edge is to imagine that the hand encircled around his cock is her mouth now, those full lips. He can see that gorgeous face when he shuts his eye tighter, concentrating on keeping the image sound as if his very life depended on it.

His grip is tortuous as he recalls her beloved face from memory. There you are, darling. She is perfection in his mind, her cheeks streaked with tears, an evident strain in her jaw as she maintains eye-contact and an open throat to take as much of him as possible.

She’s such a good girl, willingly accepting all the violence of his ardor. And he just goes on, fucking her mouth, choking her while his long fingers tangle into her hair, piling it away from her face so he doesn’t miss a one second of the pure unadulterated dragon love she’s consuming.

This is everything for Aemond, and he can’t stop, though on the off-chance that she’s not actually like this in reality, he’s not sorry. And if he’s inadvertently degrading her right now, knowing this type of intimacy isn’t for everyone, he just can’t find a fuck to give.

He’s gasping, going hard and fast with his pulls, ready to finish himself. Then he’s on the brink of coming, but in the scenario playing out in his mind, he can’t decide if he’d prefer releasing down her throat, giving her no choice but to consume his seed or somewhere else.

But then he recalls her tits, how good they’d looked in her dress and how he’d real-life love to see them bare, glistening with his cum because he’s obsessed and the kink is real.

Then he’s exploding.

look at me all the same, when i’ll be jester of violence and pity.

Aemond’s breath is still shaky several minutes later.

He’s made a mess, hard not to, but he doesn’t really care as he revels in the residual pleasure of his orgasm. His body feels better too, finally rid of so much of the building tension of the past few hours.

Passively he makes a mental note not to wait this long next time, but the reminder snaps him back to a reality where disappointment still lingers, working to settle its way into his marrow once again.

It forces him to cynically ponder if what he’s experiencing is how most lovers feel - as if they’re in a perpetual state of anxiety-induced anticipation, grappling with the fear of being let down. It all feels futile somehow, although he technically had self inflicted this specific course in allowing Y/N to hold the control, all of it.

Lesson learned.

This regret over a singular choice makes him feel… crazy, and it’s not a feeling that abandons him soon. In the water’s reflection of his bath later in the evening, he’d looked manic to himself - so much more than usual.

And that image had stayed with him into the late hours of the night, only yielding to sleep as he drifted off to a familiar void, the infinite sadness.

there's a falling bridge between my heart and your upside down world.

In the morning Aemond is slow to wake, his sleep overnight mostly fitful and garnering unrest.

Because of this, he stays in bed later than usual, not really wanting to face the day in any capacity. He knows he should get up though, at the least, in order to begin preparations for his upcoming departure. He wills his vision to focus and his abandoned energy to re-emerge, despite the darkness that remains by the drawn curtains.

He’s struggling to find a motivation as his room entices him to stay put, and he begins to entertain feigning illness should anybody come to call on him. It seems rational, as he’s not really in the mood to see anyone and he’ll be damned if the council expects his meeting attendance today for a review of closed trade routes and their current economic impact.

Count me out.

He’s aware that this behavior is a dangerous adoption - alluding to that of a renegade, and he’d be remiss to deny that the idea wasn’t alluring. But what he’s seeking is more of a temporary break, he thinks, at least to recollect himself, prioritize himself, feel…fucking human again.

I’m not a traitor looking to permanently detach from my duties.

He stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing as he waits for his vision to cloud again. Once achieved, he closes his eye, willing his mind to follow suit - hoping to recapture the solitude of nothingness for a bit longer. However, just as he feels he’s reached the threshold of that mental grey area, ready to enter back into it, an abrupt knock on his door forces him to full consciousness.

But before he can formulate a response for his caller, intending to turn them away, the door opens and to his surprise, its Helaena who rushes in. She’s a welcomed sight, for Aemond adores his sister, but her distressed energy puts him on alert immediately.

He rises to meet her at the edge of his bed, waiting as she makes her way to him in haste. When she sits next to Aemond, her face is marred with worry, regretful and sad - it’s concerning the way it all transfers to him when she places a gentle hand on his arm without a word.

“Dearest brother”, she begins woefully, “this note has been withheld from you for two days past.”

She’s upset and it’s even more palpable when she places a crumbled piece of parchment in his hands before continuing.

“Please forgive me for just discovering it amongst the devils. I came to you as soon as I could.”

Aemond experiences a spectrum of emotions, but at the forefront is both disbelief and relief. But there is anger too, as the initial confusion clarifies and he begins to understand that someone has intentionally intercepted and prevented the delivery of this letter intended for him.

It’s the very thing he’s been waiting for, the very same that’s kept him paralyzed and resentful, sickened with uncertainty. He’d been melancholic, convinced so soon that nothing and nobody was coming for him and he’d been ready to leave.

I was so wrong.

It’s a callous move that’s been played on him, enough to reinstate a new type of rage towards the one so obviously responsible for this. Actually it could be a combination of transgressors or all the entitled fucks that collectively sit on the council and think they control the world from a table.

In his bones though, Aemond feels it’s Aegon and The Hand who are responsible for this offense. But confrontation, even retribution is not priority. It matters naught in light of what he’s just received, indebted to his sister as he draws her in wordlessly to kiss her forehead with reverence.

Unshed tears collect, burning at his eye as his surroundings become a kaleidoscope of images across his distorted vision. And he’s ever-grateful to have the purity of Helaena in his life - how she’s always been a protector and champion of his heart, offering her unique gift of foresight and an abundance of unwavering love.

“This note becomes your destiny, Aemond. The love within it is real and it will not fail you.”

There’s a lump in his throat that he longs to swallow, forcing it down in order to breathe deep again, but there’s no air left as he tries to comprehend his sister’s departing words several minutes later.

He perceives himself as floating outside his body when he begins unfolding the note within the privacy of his domain, alone once more. His fingers tremble, uncontrolled as the powerful combination of adrenaline, anticipation and elation begin to course.

What he feels is inexplicable when he reads the words his love has written to him, beautiful words meant for him. He reads them again and again, allowing the truth to sink in. Without a doubt, he knows now that they are inevitable.

‘No pretenses, no games. I want you, only you - forever. We belong together.’

@a-beaverhausen @boofy1998 @caramelcandescence @wanderingcl0ud