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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 9 months ago

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Napoleonville [Chapter 9: Clarence House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, Adventures with Aegon (ft. Sunfyre the Ferret), Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, and no more hints for you, start reading!!!

Word Count: 8.9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @libroparaiso @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

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He returns in an afternoon of inescapable golden sunlight, hot and muggy, bumble bees and ladybugs wheeling lazily above tall grass, cumulus clouds like tufts of cotton in a sky the color of Aemond’s eye. You hear him talking to Cadi—she’s out in the front yard making mud pies, earth for sugar and sprinkles of stray pelican feathers—and then the weight of his footsteps on the sinking, sloping porch. He opens the door, never locked, and walks through the living room into the kitchen. From behind, his arms circle around your waist; and you’ve missed him so much—dreaming of waves and storms, chains and blood—that you have nothing for him but softness, gentle smiles and a voice hushed with relief.

“How was Norway?” you ask as you roll out dough on the counter. You’re making a buttermilk pie.

“Fine,” Aemond says, resting his chin on your shoulder. But he sounds tired, low.

You turn around to look at him, raising your fingertips to his unscarred right cheek; he won’t tolerate you touching the left. You leave a dusting of flour across his skin like snow, which you have never seen in person and likely never will. The air conditioner is humming. The little pink Panasonic boombox is playing Africa by Toto. ��Did something happen?”

“I just missed you.” Then he brightens. “But I was greeted by some very welcome news when I got back to the house this morning.” He’s wearing his neon teal duffle bag. He drops it to the floor and unzips it; inside you glimpse several Nintendo game cartridges, presumably for Cadi. And you think: I’m always here making things, he’s always bringing them from far away. Aemond takes two small dark blue booklets out of a pocket in the inner lining of the duffle bag and gives them to you. On the front of each is embossed in gold lettering, along with an emblem of a bald eagle: Passport, United States of America.

“…Aemond?!”

“There’s one for you and one for Cadi. I submitted the forms a month ago, but even with expedited processing it took this long. Ridiculous. What does the government do all day besides hunt down social programs to defund?”

“But…but…” You open one of the booklets. A photograph of your own face gazes back at you, serious and serene, taken against the white wall of your bedroom before you knew about Aemond being a Targaryen, or Christabel, or Amir’s exodus to San Franscisco, or the profound futility of everything, it seems. “How…?”

“I took the pictures, obviously. The rest was easy enough to find. You store birth certificates and social security cards the same place where you keep the business records that Amir showed me. Typically people have to go to a passport agency in person, but Criston and I have ways around that. Your signature might have been forged on the applications…but I suspect you won’t be filing any police reports.” Aemond grins, pleased with himself. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It’s definitely surprising.” You stare down at the passports, amazed. “Aemond…this is a lot. But you already know that.”

“The whole time I was gone, I was wishing you could be there too. And now I can take you anywhere.”

Your heart is pounding, helpless childlike exhilaration. “Where are we going?”

“Clarence House in London.”

London: it’s another world, a distant planet, a constellation whose name you don’t know, the lost city of Atlantis.“Clarence House? Is that a hotel?”

“It’s a royal residence,” Aemond says, amused. “It’s officially the home of the Queen Mother, but the whole family goes to Balmoral in Scotland every summer, and while they’re gone they often rent out one wing to guests, not just anyone, trusted people like distant cousins or longtime, aristocratic friends. And the Targaryens…”

“You’re marrying Christabel, and she’s nobility. So you’re basically nobility now too.”

“Yes,” Aemond admits, a little guiltily, perhaps. “But you’re the person I’m inviting.”

“And Cadi.”

Now he’s genuinely puzzled. “Of course. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

Maybe I can handle this. Maybe I can make this work.

And you climb onto your tiptoes to circle your arms around the back of his neck, embracing him, thanking him, thinking: Christabel will have his ring, his last name, his family’s mansion, his acquiescent kiss at the altar of the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens…but I have what he’s made of, dreams, soul, bones in the abyss of an ocean of blood. Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~

First class, cheerful stewardesses, an array of magazines purchased from a gift shop in New Orleans International Airport: the National Enquirer and Food & Wine for you, The Face and Smithsonian for Aemond, and National Geographic Kids and Zoobooks for Cadi. The Zoobooks animal this month is the eagle, how quintessentially American. You are served antipasto Italiano, shrimp cocktail, Perrier, and champagne (Cadi gets a Shirley Temple) over the Atlantic Ocean. Aemond shows you and Cadi how to chew gum to pop your ears as the pressure builds to pain. When there is turbulence and he leans in close to tell you everything is fine, Aemond smells like Wrigley’s Doublemint, cologne, Marlboro cigarettes like the logo on his red and white jacket. You press your palm to the cool window, and clouds float by through the gaps between your fingers. The world is older than anything you could fathom; the world is brand new.

There is a black limousine waiting outside Terminal 3 of Heathrow Airport. The driver gets out to load the sparse luggage: Aemond’s teal duffle bag, a frayed and battered rolling suitcase that you borrowed from your mother, a Super Mario Bros. backpack that you found for Cadi at Kmart. Aemond doesn’t have much time to spare, only 4 days, practically a long weekend; but it feels like an eternity stretches out in front of you as the limousine zooms through the narrow, winding streets of downtown London, Starship’s We Built This City piping from the radio. You have never had more than a few uninterrupted hours with Aemond before. Now you will have a hundred.

The London air is cool, grey, misty; fresh rainwater bleeds into puddles, dark pools of mirrorlike reflections. With the windows rolled down and clean slate-colored air unfurling in your lungs, Aemond points to the landmarks you pass: Gunnersbury Park, Chiswick House and its gardens, cathedrals, museums, shopping districts, centuries-old cemeteries, stations of the London Underground, the River Thames, Hyde Park, the Ritz Hotel, Buckingham Palace, Saint James’ Palace, and at last Clarence House. It is a boxy white four-story townhouse with columns at the entranceway that remind you of the Targaryens’ estate on the shore of Lake Verret, the beautiful yet temporary home they call The Last Desire.

Aemond says that the entire first floor will be yours for the duration of your stay. There is the Lancaster Room, red and gold, and the Morning Room of creams and weak watery blue. There is the Library, the Dining Room, and the vibrantly pink Horse Corridor named for its ample equine paintings and sculptures; Cadi immediately proclaims this to be the best part of the house. She lingers in the hallway examining the art pieces as you and Aemond proceed to the Garden Room, which looks out upon a sea of lavender and shrubs meticulously shaped into a maze no higher than your waist. It has a golden harp and a grand piano, and a vast bed large enough for at least five people, in your estimation. I wonder if Aemond has ever tried that, you think distractedly. I wonder if there are temptations I can’t satisfy for him.

“You and Cadi can have this room,” Aemond says. He keeps wincing and bringing his hand up to the left side of his face; you doubt he’s even aware of it. “I’ll sleep on one of the couches.” Of course he will; Cadi thinks you’re just friends, and she’s aware he’s getting married to someone else. He knew exactly what it would mean when he bought a passport for her. “Queen Elizabeth and her husband Philip lived here before she ascended to the throne. They loved it so much that at first they refused to move to Buckingham Palace, which is the traditional residence of the reigning monarch. But their insolence was worn down. No one gets to break the rules.”

I shouldn’t be in this place, you keep thinking as you gaze around at the portraits on the wall, the stiff unnatural photographs of royals, the vases, the chandeliers, the fireplaces, the plush intricate rugs, the garden on the other side of the windows. People like me don’t belong here. “Aemond, are you alright?”

“It’s my eye,” he confesses with an uneasy, apologetic smirk. “Sometimes flights…the altitude changes…it aggravates the nerve damage. It’s like needles in my skull. But I’ll be okay.”

“You fly a lot for work, don’t you?” You hurt yourself for Viserys, in body and soul.

“I do,” he agrees. He unzips his duffle bag and produces a bottle of Percocet. “Why do you think I carry these around?”

“Take one,” you say. “Lie down, rest. Cadi and I can entertain ourselves for a few hours.”

He’s relieved, he’s grateful. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You can even borrow the bed.”

“Back between your sheets, huh?” Aemond says, in pain but smiling through it. He draws a semicircle from the part in your hair down to your chin, a weightless sweep of his fingertips like a kind breeze. “You are incurable. You can’t resist me.”

“I have my own scheme in mind.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” You grab the front of his Marlboro jacket, appropriate for the overcast London weather. He belongs here, this house, this city, this way of life. He wasn’t made for the primordial heat of the swamplands. You fold into him, close enough to tease, to quicken his heartbeat and momentarily clear the wounded furrows from his brow. “I want my pillows to smell like you. I want to breathe you in all night. It’s how I sleep best.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Aemond says, a little stunned; but he’s elated too. For a moment, you’ve distracted him from his suffering entirely. “I’ll roll around all over them. I will mar the bedding irrevocably, the Queen Mother will never invite me back.” And he watches as you leave, his gaze transfixed and meditative and—more than anything else—hopeful.

“Hey, honey,” you say when you find Cadi in the Horse Corridor, poking a 100-year-old oil painting that she is definitely not supposed to be touching. “Let’s go explore and grab some dinner. Aemond isn’t feeling great, but we’ll hang out with him later.”

“Is it his face?”

You are startled. She knows so much. “Yeah, actually, it is.”

“He showed me,” Cadi says casually, still peering up at the horse; and you remember the day when he took her out to the front yard after she said she wished you were more like her friends’ mothers. “He even let me touch it. Radical, right? It’s so gross, but super cool too.”

Aemond couldn’t stand for me to see how he was maimed, but he forced himself to endure it for Cadi. “What did he tell you?”

“That I should appreciate having a good mom, because not all parents treat their kids right. He said his dad let his eye get crushed. And he told me he’d bet $1 million that you’d snap someone’s neck if they hurt me like that.”

You reach out to skim your fingers through her dark disheveled hair, smiling faintly, fondly. Cadi doesn’t seem to mind. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“Can we get fish and chips?”

“Totally. I have 50 British pounds in my wallet, I assume that’s enough for dinner.”

“Wow! How much is 50 pounds in dollars?”

“I have no idea,” you say. “Let’s go spend them.”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the evenings, you, Cadi, and Aemond gather around the television in the Lancaster Room and help yourself to the extensive VHS collection stocked for guests. You let Cadi pick: Raiders Of The Lost Ark, The Terminator, Firestarter, the Karate Kid, Aliens. You make popcorn in the extravagant kitchen in the basement of Clarence House and the three of you devour bowlfuls of it as you giggle on the couch, engulfed with throw pillows and playfully kicking at each other beneath the blankets. One night at Cadi’s request you bake Betty Crocker’s Party Rainbow Chip cupcakes with mix purchased at a Tesco down the street; on another you make hot chocolate to sip from antique tea cups. Each day, Aemond has new destinations picked out to tour. You ride the Underground like true Londoners to the Hampton Court Palace, the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, the Natural History Museum, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, Tower Bridge, the National Gallery, the Kew Gardens, Imperial College where Aemond received the petroleum engineering degree he never wanted.

As he shows you the classrooms where he attended lectures and seminars—you aren’t sure what the difference is, though you can sense that there is one—Aemond doesn’t talk about math or oil drilling. Instead, he tells you and Cadi about the people he learned about in the history classes he managed to slip into his exacting schedule like splinters into flesh: Sir Harold Gillies who pioneered plastic surgery in his treatment of World War I veterans, Phillis Wheatley who was enslaved as a child and became a renowned poet and abolitionist, Boudicca who led a rebellion against the Roman invaders and upon her defeat succumbed to some tragic, enigmatic doom. Aemond loves stories like this, you can see the light that sparks into the crystalline blue of his right eye. There is nothing he deems more heroic than people who took circumstances beyond their control and made something worthwhile out of them.

The night before the flight back to New Orleans, you’re staring at the crown molding of the Garden Room as Cadi snores softly from the other end of the massive bed and silvery moonlight covers the world. You can’t stop your thoughts from roiling like the North Sea; you can’t stop thinking about desks and chairs and books and clever blue-blooded girls jotting down in their notebooks not cake orders but mathematical equations or dates of conquest. When you breathe in the smoke and cologne Aemond left on your pillows, it tastes dark and forbidden. You climb out of the bed, roomy Bob Dylan t-shirt, pink cotton shorts, hair loose and wild, bare feet.

He is outside pacing around the sundial in the center of the garden, puffing on a Marlboro cigarette and pondering the full moon. “Can’t sleep?” Aemond asks, exhaling smoke as he glances over at you.

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“What?” He stops pacing. “Why?”

“Imperial College,” you say. “And the sorts of people who go to places like that. You must have known a lot of women who could recite Shakespear and name all the kings of England, all of Jupiter’s moons. Things I never learned. Things that I have no use for. I don’t write books or design machines or study the secrets of the universe. I bake cupcakes.”

“And they’re brilliant,” Aemond says, smiling. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“No?”

“No,” Aemond insists. “I think that if you’d been born where I was, you would have done far more with it.”

“Aemond…” You walk across the wet cobblestones to meet him by the sundial. It’s been raining again. The night air is chilly, foggy, painting you with goosebumps. “You still have time to become who you want to be.”

“No. I don’t.”

It’s coming from somewhere, distant but still audible, a parked car or a nearby building: Kyrie by Mr. Mister. Aemond chuckles, flicks the end of his cigarette into the lavender bushes—surely against the rules—and takes your hands in his.

“I remember this,” he says as he dances with you slowly, clumsily; you don’t know the steps. Still, you don’t want him to stop. “In your kitchen.”

He remembers everything. “Right before we went to Olive Garden for the first time.”

He sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “Of course that’s the part you committed to memory.”

“I’ve held onto a few other details too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like how small the back seat of your Audi Quattro is.”

“A limousine would be far more comfortable. I should invest in one.”

You laugh as he twirls you and you trip over your own feet; he pulls you upright before you can fall to the slick cobblestones. And you think: This is real. No matter what happens between him and anyone else, what we have is safe and extraordinary and real.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cupcake,” Aemond murmurs through your hair, holding you without seeking more. “You and Cadi.”

You want him again, or you’re so close to wanting him that the line is less of a boundary than a quagmire, indistinct edges and quicksand that can drag you down to drown in it. “I never knew that this was possible. Thank you, Aemond.”

“It can be like this all the time.”

Not all the time, you think, knowing that there will always be Jade Dragon, the Targaryens, the stock market, the world, the past and the future, Christabel. But some of it.

Is that enough?

~~~~~~~~~~

Willis agreed to you and Aemond taking Cadi out of the country on one condition: that you return her to him the second you arrive back in Napoleonville. It’s late Tuesday afternoon when the plane’s wheels hit the runway and squeal to a halt. Aemond has left his red Audi in the Park-and-Ride lot. You collect the car and soar west on Route 10 into the red-gold horizon, chasing the setting sun.

“Daddy!” Cadi bellows when she throws open the front door of the Assumption Parish Sheriff’s Office, waving his gift bag excitedly. Inside is a refrigerator magnet, several packages of McVitie’s Digestives in different flavors, and a miniature red-coated Queen’s Guard to keep on his desk, perpetually covered with disorganized papers and crumbs from innumerable desserts. From her poster on the wall, Heather Locklear simpers at you. At the center of the dartboard, poor Tommy Lee is impaled in four different places.

“Comment ca va, cherie?!” Willis opens his arms to hug Cadi when she barrels into him. He guffaws, his eyes are shiny; he has missed her. “Ya had a real good time, I reckon?”

“It was totally tubular. But I’m glad I’m home now. Can I get a horse? His name is Patches and I love him.”

“Huh? What the hell ya need a horse for?” He peeks around Cadi to look at you, a curious blue gaze beneath the thick dark bangs of his mullet. “What’s she talkin’ ‘bout, sugar?”

Beside you, Aemond groans irritably. Then you hear a voice from one of the holding cells, almost always empty: “Hey, cake lady.”

“Aegon?!” you and Aemond say at once, and sure enough, when you check the last holding cell there he is: unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, blue shorts, rainbow flip flops, hair like he’s been in a hurricane, a new eyebrow piercing.

Aemond asks Willis: “What did he do?”

Willis picks up a clipboard from his cluttered desk and begins reading. “Possession with intent to distribute cocaine—”

“I told you, I wasn’t distributing anything! It was for me!”

“Aegon, shut up,” Aemond pleads.

“Possession with intent to distribute marijuana, possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of methamphetamine less than 28 grams, operatin’ a vehicle while intoxicated, possession of MDMA, possession of alcoholic beverages in a motor vehicle, operatin’ a vehicle with a suspended license, resistin’ an officer…” Willis flips the page. “Speedin’, reckless drivin’, disturbin’ the peace while in an intoxicated condition, possession with intent to distribute Xanax, theft—”

“What the hell did you steal?!” Aemond demands.

“Burritos. I forgot my wallet at home.” Now Aegon is indignant. “But I saidI’d get them back! They didn’t need to call anybody about it!”

“Aegon, Taco Bell does not offer payment plans!”

“I can release him to ya, I guess,” Willis tells Aemond in a slow drawl.

“I really appreciate that. I’m so sorry about him, I’m absolutely mortified, I’ll pay whatever fines you want—”

“Wait, no,” Aegon says, panicked. His hands are gripped around the iron bars. “I don’t want to leave.”

Aemond stares at him. “You’re asking to stay in jail…?”

“I can’t go home. Stephanie’s there.”

“Of course she’s there. You knew she was flying in for the wedding.”

“Please let me stay here until she goes back to Monaco.”

“Definitely not. How’s everything else?”

“There’s something wrong with one of the Lake Verret rigs. Viserys mentioned a…a…I don’t remember, a dirt dump or something.”

“A mud pump?!”

“Yeah! That’s it. That’s what he said. It exploded.”

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses, then remembers that Cadi’s still there. She gives him a sly grin. You messed up, she means. Aemond looks to you, apologetic, disappointed. “I’m going to have to drop you off and then head straight home. There are messes to be mopped up.”

“No,” Aegon moans as Willis unlocks the holding cell and then wrestles him out of it when Aegon resists. “No, I’m a felon! I’m a danger to the public!”

“Don’t,” Aemond snaps, and this time his brother listens.

You say goodbye to Cadi—she barely notices—but as you go to follow Aemond and Aegon out of the Sheriff’s Office, she has a question. “Aemond?”

He stops. “Yeah, Cadi?”

“Can I go to the wedding?”

“Weddin’?!” Willis exclaims. “Already?!”

“Not mine,” you say.

“You really want to go?” Aemond asks Cadi with some reticence. But he seems to be considering it.

“Well, yeah. Mom said she and Amir are going. You’ll be there. Lots of cake will be there. And I’ve never been to a wedding before. I want to see what it’s like.”

Aemond turns to you, then to Willis, searching for permission. “It’s alright with me,” Willis says. “As long as someone there is keepin’ an eye on her.”

“It’s your choice,” you tell Cadi. “If you’re interested, I have no objections. But you have to be nice to Christabel.”

“Christabel?!” Willis says.

“That’s Aemond’s fiancée.” And there is a collective uncomfortable silence: Willis nodding slowly as he squints at you, Cadi chewing on her thumbnail, Aemond looking down at his Adidas sneakers, Aegon staring vacuously at the Heather Locklear poster on the wall.

With Aegon squeezed into the back seat, Aemond drops you off at the home Cadi calls the Fall-Down House. The new house hasn’t closed yet, but probably will in the next week. The adolescent gator is sunbathing in the last of the daylight in one corner of the yard; you can hear the pink Panasonic boombox inside playing Another One Bites The Dust.

“Ho, you’re back!” Amir cries, jubilant. He hugs you energetically, staining you with the flour on his hands; he’s been watching the bakery while you’ve been gone and keeping every cent of the profits in recognition of his labor, as agreed upon. “How was London?”

You give him his souvenir: a purple t-shirt with Princess Diana’s face on it. “Rainy. Wonderful.”

“Did you have any kinky sex in the royal grandma’s bed?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “But it was…I don’t know how to describe it. Calm. Normal. Easy. Like we could live that way forever.”

“So you’ve decided to be his Camilla.”

“Some moments I have. Other times I haven’t. But more and more, I just…” You try to decide what you mean. “The thought of giving him up feels impossible. And Christabel…they’re so distant with each other, so disconnected, so platonic. Their relationship doesn’t feel real. Maybe I can ignore it. Maybe this is the best I can hope for.”

Amir pushes his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose and raises an eyebrow. “It might feel more real in three days.”

The rehearsal dinner is on Friday; the wedding is only 24 hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You really should consider writing a cookbook, dear,” Alicent says from where she sits across from you. The dining room table is covered with flickering pink candles, bouquets of wildflowers, drinks garnished with cotton candy and Pop Rocks. Balloons bump against the ceilings, their long ribbons streaming down like the tentacles of a jellyfish. The stereo is thumping out Caught Up In You by 38 Special. Everything is pink and red: the colors of love. Yet just like at the engagement party, no one is talking about the couple getting married tomorrow. You could almost forget that there’s going to be a wedding. That makes it easier; and if denial is the terrain you live on now, so be it. That is far less agonizing than the alternative.

“Oh, no,” you demur, taking a sip of a cotton candy cocktail. You exchange a glance with Aemond, sitting several seats down from his mother. He is in a suit—black and white, fitted, faultless—and smiling, proud of you. “A book?! I couldn’t. Not in a million years.” I never even finished high school English.

“But all of my friends from home are captivated by your recipes, darling, and it would be so much easier if I could simply send them a copy of a cookbook rather than trying to describe every dish to them! Please consider it. Do you promise?”

“That I’ll think about it? Not too taxing a commitment. I suppose so.”

“Good,” Alicent chirps, then turns to whisper something to Criston, who drapes an arm briefly across her shoulders and gives her a reassuring little embrace. Amir is chatting with Aemond about San Franscisco. Christabel is talking to Helaena, who has been forced into a voluminous, magenta taffeta dress that she clearly despises; her chameleon Dreamfyre lurches around the table, occasionally stealing tastes of people’s food. Daeron, with Tessarion perched on the back of his chair, is trying to discuss something called seismic testing results with Viserys but getting ignored. Viserys is deep in conversation with Christabel’s father, the marquess, a large loud man whose booming voice drowns out everyone else. The two of them seem delighted, celebratory, very much in their own world. Their schemes have come at last to fruition. Christabel has several younger sisters in attendance—her bridesmaids—but no mother. You gather from pieces of dialogue you’ve overheard that her mother died when she was a child, a terrible and irreparable loss. Otto is so bored he’s flipping through a picture book about Kiribati. Aegon’s wife, Princess Stephanie of Monaco, is a headstrong, charismatic, and rather critical woman with short dark hair. She notifies Aegon each and every time he fails her, which happens frequently: You’re using the wrong fork. You missed a button on your shirt. You haven’t fucked me properly in over two years. You didn’t send flowers to my grandma’s funeral. This is evidently Aegon’s worst nightmare; he has disappeared upstairs in an effort to escape her.

Dinner is finished, and dessert has been brought by the servants. It turned out more like a crepe cake than a Napoleon cake—the layers of puff pastry didn’t want to fluff up as much as they should have—but no one seems to notice. This time, you and Amir knew the dress code expectations. You are both wearing black to fade into the backdrop like shadows, like distant memories. You are invited guests, but you are also locals, inferiors, recipients of charity.

“Where’s Aegon?” Helaena says. “He has to try this cake, it’s delicious! The cherry jam cuts the heaviness of the cream and pastry dough and makes it a perfect dessert for summer! And the color is delightful! It looks just like blood!”

“Where the hell is he?” Viserys demands, looking around, twisting in his chair. “It’s his brother’s rehearsal dinner, for Christ’s sake. One night of this importance and he can’t handle it? I swear to God, if he’s snorting or smoking anything up there I’ll have him committed to an institution—”

“I’ll find him,” you offer as you stand from the table. You have to visit the bathroom anyway, too many glitzy pink cocktails; two birds, one stone. You depart from the table and Aemond’s gaze follows you, a low heat that is building towards incineration, a baiting promise of dark euphoria that you can no longer pretend you don’t want desperately, defenselessly. Christabel gives you a sweet little wave. She is dripping in gold—dress, heels, jewelry—and seems happier tonight, more self-assured. Perhaps with the wedding so close, her trepidation concerning Aemond’s commitment has evaporated. Surely it is too late to call off the ceremony now. Tonight they feast, tomorrow they recite their vows, and then…

But no, you don’t think about the honeymoon. You will not allow yourself to. It can’t exist to you, and that is how you’ll survive this. Christabel will be in one universe, you in another, two timelines that never cross like something out of Star Trek. And the way she and Aemond interact is so impersonal, so untactile, that it is not so difficult to treat anything beyond chaste pecks on cheeks as an impossibility.

At the top of the staircase, Vhagar is lurking. She wags her long twiglike tail when she sees you and licks the knuckles of your left hand. You give her a pat on the head—and then several more when she whines as you try to leave—then at last she lopes off down the hallway.

Aegon is exactly where you’d assumed he’d be. He’s in his bedroom hunched over his computer and hammering furiously at the keyboard. There’s white powder on his fingers and in his thin mustache. On the screen, bizarrely, is what appears to be neon green grass and an ox-drawn wagon like the ones from the pioneer days. Sunfyre the ferret is stretched out across the bed napping, his angular face resting on his paws.

Aegon whirls around to face you. He is wearing a lime green satin suit but has forgotten to put on a shirt under it. “What? What? What do you want? I’m playing Oregon Trail. I have dysentery.”

“You have what…? Never mind, it’s not important. You need to come downstairs and eat some dessert. People are wondering where you are.”

“I’m busy.”

“If you don’t make an appearance on your own, Viserys will come looking for you. Also there are some Cap’n Crunch treats I left on the kitchen counter that you might be interested in.”

“Consider me tempted. I’ll be down momentarily.”

“You better be,” you tell Aegon, then retrace your steps back to the kitchen. Amir and Christabel are both there getting cans of Pepsi from the fridge and making very cumbersome small talk…or perhaps only Amir thinks it is that much of a burden. Christabel is chattering blithely away about different types of wildflowers. He gives you a look like Oh thank God, an excuse to escape and wastes no time heading back to the dining room.

“Did you notice what’s playing now?” he asks you just before he vanishes, then points towards the stereo in the grand foyer. You listen; it’s Money For Nothing by Dire Straits. “You think they know this song is about class warfare?”

“You should tell them,” you joke.

“Yeah, if I want to end up on Unsolved Mysteries.” Then Amir is gone.

“How are you doing?” you ask Christabel to be polite. You open the refrigerator and start hunting for your own can of Pepsi. “Excited? Nervous? You seem a little more relaxed than the last time I saw you. Are the wedding jitters finally dissipating?”

“They are,” she says, and when you glance back at her she is wearing a bashful sort of smile. It’s not an expression you can read. You resume digging through the refrigerator for a can of Pepsi; Amir and Christabel might have taken the last ones.

“That’s good,” you say noncommittally, hoping she’ll leave. But Christabel doesn’t leave. She seems to have something she needs to say. Just as you spy a lone can of Pepsi at the very back of the refrigerator and lean in to grab it, she proceeds to unburden herself.

“Well, you know, I was so concerned about me and Aemond before. I had no conviction that he especially liked me, and we never had anything to talk about, and he was so dreadfully undemonstrative…I was just beside myself, truly. I didn’t know what to do. But I feel much better about everything now. Norway was so good for us.”

Norway?

You close the refrigerator, your ice-cold Pepsi can clutched in your hand. You’re going cold all over. Slowly, you turn towards Christabel, glittering in her gold dress.

Norway???

“He took you on the North Sea trip.” You hear the words, but it doesn’t feel like you’ve said them. They sound flat and dazed.

“It’s a bit of a secret,” Christabel says; and again, her smile has no cruelty or sharp awareness in it, but her cheeks are pink. She’s blushing. What does she have to be embarrassed about? “My father doesn’t know. He wouldn’t approve. But I just felt…I felt ready, you know? I’m sure you understand what I mean. You aren’t so clinical and aloof about everything. I had to know if Aemond and I really had something between us before we got married.”

“You felt…ready?” Ready for what? Ready for WHAT, Christabel?

“I asked Aemond to take me with him. I begged, actually.” She giggles. “I won’t try to be proud about it! And finally he said yes. We stayed at a lovely hotel in Bergen, and during the day he would have to fly by helicopter out to the rigs, but at night…”

You’re staring blankly at her. You can’t believe what you think she’s going to say. Surely it must be something else, anything else—

“It wasn’t my plan to ever be intimate with a man before marriage, but sometimes…things change. Minds change, circumstances change. And I knew I wanted it. And it went so well! Now what do I have to be nervous about? All the uncertainties are resolved. Now we just sign the paperwork and start our lives together.”

He took her to Norway.

He slept with her in Norway.

“I hope it was just as good for him,” Christabel muses, a compulsive sort of oversharing. But she has had a few cocktails and she thinks you’re nonjudgemental and there’s probably not a single other soul she feels she can be truthful with…so why not the girl who got knocked up at prom and had a baby at seventeen? Surely she’s in no position to judge. “It’ll be even better once we can…you know. When we’re officially trying for a baby and there’s no need to worry about any precautions. I want Aemond to enjoy himself as much as possible. I want to be a good wife to him.”

You feel dizzy; you feel violently ill. And now you see everything: Aemond kissing her with his mouth open and ravenous, his hands between her legs, his hips pressed to hers, peeling off her clothes and learning how to make her moan, make her wet, make her come, and you think of how careful he must have been with her, a girl with no past, no ex-husband, no childbirth that nearly killed her, no stretchmarks and no baggage, just a smooth pristine rivulet of flesh that was so pure and uncontaminated it was weightless, and you can hear—though you don’t want to, though it feels like it will kill you—how tender he was, how encouraging, not a dominant who drinks down fantasies like a vampire sustained by blood but just a man, and a man who has at last found a woman he doesn’t need to grab, bite, bruise, handcuff to a bedpost to feel satisfied with.

He took her to Norway and he never told me.

You are saying something, and Christabel is nodding appreciatively, accepting the sage wisdom of a tarnished life. Your words don’t matter. They are folktales and charms, the croaks of bullfrogs, the whispers of the wind through Spanish moss, the Morse code of ripples in the water of the bayou. You are a novelty and your counsel is a souvenir; one day when she is living in California or Argentina or Australia or Alaska or her ancestral castle back in the U.K., Christabel will tell Aemond’s children: Once I met a nice single mom from Napoleonville Louisiana, and she told me to follow my heart and not let anyone shame me for wanting to be close with my soon-to-be husband.

Vhagar trots into the kitchen and begins nudging her massive head against Christabel’s bare knees. “Hi, big girl!” Christabel coos as she pets the blue merle Great Dane, clearly accustomed to this. “Who’s a giant gorgeous girl? You are!”

What did I expect? I knew they were getting married. I knew they were going to sleep together.

Yes, you knew it, but you hadn’t felt it, and now you have.

I can’t do this, you realize. I thought I could but I can’t.

“Christabel?” Alicent is calling like a windchime. “Darling, there are just a few more things we have to discuss before tomorrow, will you come back to the table please?”

“On my way!” Christabel replies obediently, and she gives you a quick, impulsive hug before vanishing.

I’m going to be sick. I’m going to have a heart attack. I’m going to drop dead right in the middle of this fucking kitchen.

Leaving your can of Pepsi forgotten on the countertop, you escape to the living room and then out the French doors into the garden. You run past the pool all the way to the pond full of multicolored fish you once hadn’t known were koi. You drop to your knees, then lie down on the cold cobblestones, and when it hits you again—Aemond touching her, Aemond loving her—you rupture into sobs that are breathless and shuddering. You try to stifle the noise with your palms; you clasp them over your mouth and smother your wails. It feels like you’re being ripped apart; it feels like you’re in labor, but there is no end, no consolation of a new life, no point at which your body chooses whether you live or die. It is only a razored wheel that turns in you again and again and again, shredding muscle and splitting bones.

There is a hand on your shoulder; someone is patting it awkwardly. You look up to see Aegon standing there. “Sorry,” he says. “You look…not good.”

“I’m really not good. I’m fucking terrible.” Your face is soaked and stinging with tears, your voice is strangled.

“Do you want some coke?”

“No, Aegon.”

“Do you want a ride home?”

“From you? Yeah, for sure, getting impaled by a stop sign would be a great next move for me.”

“I’m totally fine to drive.”

“Can you just pull Amir aside without anyone else noticing and tell him to say his goodbyes and then meet me in the driveway, please? He drove me here. I need him to take me home.”

“Okay,” Aegon says, and then: “Thanks for the Cap’n Crunch Treats. Thanks for remembering something I like and caring enough to bring more. No one really does that around here.” And he’s gone before you can think of a reply.

To get to the driveway without going though the house, you climb over a 5-foot wrought iron fence swarmed with rosebushes and ivy, no easy feat in a black Kmart dress and matching ballet flats. You acquire a dozen shallow gashes on your hands and forearms, but make it to the Ford Escort just in time for Amir to meet you under the full, cloudless moon, tossing his car keys from one hand to the other.

“What did—?” Then he sees your face. He gasps, knowing how bad it is. He’s never seen you like this. He didn’t know it was possible for you to look like this. He unlocks the Ford Escort and joins you inside, turning the key in the ignition. “What the fuck did Aemond do to you?!”

“I have to go home. It’s over, it’s over, I can’t do this.”

Amir is spinning out of the driveway. “Did he hurt you, did he—?!”

“He fucked Christabel in Norway,” you say, sobbing uncontrollably. “And I know I have no right to be jealous, I know we don’t have a conventional relationship, I thought I could handle this but I can’t. I can’t stop picturing him with her, and hearing it, and I…I…I don’t understand why this hurts so goddamn bad.”

“Babe,” Amir says gently, a palm on your trembling thigh. “You’re in love with him. That’s why.”

“This is killing me,” you whisper. You’re shaking all over. You feel like you’re battling for every breath.

Your best friend—your only friend—is quiet for a long time. “Don’t go tomorrow,” Amir finally says. “You don’t need to see the wedding. You shouldn’t put yourself through that. I’ll go, I can handle the cake alone, especially if Cadi’s with me to help with carrying plates and stuff.”

You don’t say anything. You stare out the nightscape window and mop tears from your face with McDonald’s napkins you find in Amir’s glovebox.

“Did you hear me? I don’t think you should go to the wedding tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you agree hoarsely. “I can’t watch them have my wedding.”

“Willis is dropping Cadi off in the morning, right? I’ll pick her and the cake up from your house and bring her back when it’s over. You can tell her whatever you want…you have another cake order to work on, you’re sick, you’re injured, your mom needs a ride to the doctor, whatever.”

“Okay,” you whimper.

“Hey, look at me.”

You do, sniffling, shivering, in agony.

“You don’t deserve this. You deserve better than this.”

I don’t think I do. I think if I did, it would have happened by now. But you know Amir will not accept this answer. “Okay,” you say again, trying to make yourself believe it.

In the gravel driveway of your sinking house, Amir asks if you want him to say. You tell him no, you want to be alone, you have to think, you have to plan. Really, you just don’t want anyone to see you this shattered. It’s humiliating, it’s like you’re an animal, like something less than human needing to licks its wounds in a dark place. You walk into the Fall-Down House and flip on the kitchen light, artificial yellow luminance. You don’t start the air conditioner. You don’t touch the Panasonic boombox. You stand there mindlessly in the sounds of the bayou: cicada screams, owl hoots, the far-away hissing of gators. The wedding cake is in the refrigerator, banana bread, cream cheese frosting, a kaleidoscope of wildflowers painted by Amir’s expert hand. He’s leaving. Aemond’s leaving. Everyone is leaving.

There are tires crunching on gravel in the driveway, there are footsteps on the sloping porch. He is able to yank the door open because you never lock it. He blows in like a storm that kills.

“What the hell happened?!” Aemond shouts. “Why did you leave?! You didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye to me—”

“You took her to Norway.”

Aemond’s face goes from furious to lost. “Why would she tell you that?”

Not That’s not true, not Let me explain, not It didn’t mean anything. Your stomach sinks, a basket full of stones. “Because she thinks I’m her friend.”

“It wasn’t…” Aemond sighs. “It was a last-minute thing, and it was her idea. She really, really wanted to go to Norway, and I figured…you know…what’s the difference between the wedding night and a few weeks before it? So yeah, it happened—”

“Oh God,” you whisper, starting to sob again.

“And then I came home to your house, to your doorstep, because I missed you the entire time. The entire time, every hour, every minute, and there are no exceptions, okay, are you listening to me? I took her to Norway because I had to. I took you and Cadi to Clarence House because I wanted to. What I do with her is a reflex, an obligation, I’m on autopilot, I’m thinking of you to get myself hard, I don’t know how else to express to you how completely different these situation are in every single goddamn way.”

“She said it was good,” you say huskily, tears snaking down your cheeks that are raw from trying to dab them dry.

“Of course it was good for her!” Aemond flings back. “I’ve had a lot of casual sex, I know how to make women come, it’s a math equation, it doesn’t mean we’re soulmates!”

“I know I have no claim to you, but I…” You gaze out the kitchen window, dark and still, nothing to see but stars and lighting bugs. “I can’t do this.”

Aemond asks, kindly now: “What do you want?”

I want to not have to beg you to choose me. “I want this to be over.”

“No,” he says, panicking. “No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You’re going to give this up as soon as it gets painful? I’m not worth fighting for, what I can do for you and Cadi isn’t worth a little pain? Because I’m no stranger to it either. You think I’m not hurting, you think nothing ever keeps me awake at night?”

“You could leave your prison any time you want to. But instead you built a brand new one around me.”

“You don’t understand what the kind of responsibility I’m beholden to feels like.”

“Yeah, a town named after Napoleon is the right place for you,” you seethe, enraged. “You’ve felt so fucking small your whole life that now you’re starving for what it tastes like to be in control. But I can’t let you destroy me. I can’t let my daughter grow up watching me settle for less than I need from a man. She’ll learn to live the same way.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Aemond,” you say, and you wait until he looks at you. “Do you really want children?”

When he answers, his voice frayed and his right eye misty. “I love Cadi.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want children of your own with Christabel?”

“I have to,” he says, miserable.

“No,” you plead. “You cannot have a baby with that girl. You can’t, Aemond. You are going to ruin so many lives, not just your own.”

“I have to,” he says again.

“Then get out. Viserys owns you, and Viserys wouldn’t want you here. He would want you back at the mansion impregnating your child bride.”

“She’s a legal adult, she’s 19, and she wants me, she begs for me, I’m not twisting her arm—”

“Then go!” you roar, striking him hard, both palms to his chest. Aemond doesn’t budge. “Get out, go home, go have kids you won’t give a fuck about just like Viserys never cared about you. Go repeat the cycle all over again. I’m done. I can’t be a part of it.”

“I won’t be like him,” Aemond swears.

“You will be. You already are.” You shove him again, but still, Aemond doesn’t move. You know what he’s waiting for, you know the right word to say. But you can’t get it to launch from your lips; it catches in your throat like a blade through the windpipe. “Get out!”

Your fingers hook into the lapels of his black suit jacket and stay there; you can’t let go. You’re both breathing heavily; you can hear it, you can feel the heat in the air. You keep his jacket gripped in your hands, he can move no closer, no farther away. When he leans into you, you breathe in his smoke and cologne; when his hands cradle your face, you feel the benevolent power that once gave you peace.

I want him. I need him. Not forever, no, I understand that’s not possible. But just for right now.

You look up at him and Aemond kisses you, his lips and tongue claiming you like untouched land; he puts down roots, he slits the jugulars of trespassers.

Here. Now.

You drag him down with you. When you drop to the floor, you strike the back of your skull against the scuffed, sloping wood and bite back a yelp.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aemond says, though it isn’t his fault; he reaches for your head and cushions it with his right hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You’re tearing open his white shirt; tiny translucent buttons go flying in every direction. Your palms glide over his chest, up to his throat, to his jaw, to knot in his hair. He reaches beneath your dress to slide off your panties, then buries his fingers between your legs. You moan helplessly, needfully, spreading your thighs wider for him. No man has ever been able to do this to you before: to make you forget everything, to make you feel—if only for a moment—beloved, worthy, chosen. He’s kissing you like he knows this is the last time. You’re touching the left side of his face and he doesn’t even notice, he won’t realize until later that there was a time when he was cured.

Aemond pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his suit pants, flips it open, and roots through it until he finds a condom. He starts to rip it open, moving with desperate speed, dire impatience.

“No, don’t,” you say. “Please don’t. I want all of you.” And I won’t get another chance.

He exhales in deep, ecstatic relief; he wants it too. You’re soaked, you’re ready, you’re aching for him like mending bones. He eases himself into you, gasping, and you are stunned by how good it feels already, how close you are, every rope of nerves and muscle glimmering with an opening heat that builds higher and higher, the reverse of a tornado finally touching down on earth. His hands are linked with yours and pinned to the floor above your head; he’s kissing you, he’s moaning into you, he thrusts deeper and harder when you beg him to do it.

Aemond untangles one hand from yours and reaches low to stroke you. Your fingers find his again and catch him, capture him, bring his hand back to the floor where it can be entwined with yours and his weight can hold it to the scraped wood. “I don’t need it, I’m close. Stay here. Stay with me.”

“I’m here,” he whispers, panting; and the friction of his body against yours overtakes you, and when you come it is blinding, bone-breaking, a whirlpool that traps you for what feels like over a minute, soaring highs punctuated by the illusion of fading over and over again until you think you can’t stand it, and only then does it end, Aemond collapsing on the floor beside you covered in your sweat and your wetness, you feeling the remnants of him bleeding down your bare thighs.

You drag yourself upright—muscles sore in your belly and back and thighs—and roll onto your knees so you can stagger to your feet. You tug on your panties so he doesn’t drip out of you onto the floor. Then you straighten the skirt of your black dress, turn on the little pink Panasonic boombox—it’s a U2 song, Where The Streets Have No Name—and begin washing a muffin tin that was left in the sink.

Aemond stands up and runs a hand through his hair, getting his bearings. He looks down at his pants and fixes his zipper and belt. He tries to close his shirt and then remembers you tore off the buttons. They lie scattered across the floor, useless.

As you scrub the muffin tin, you hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you. His palms begin at the small of your back and then skate around your waist to encircle you.

“Stop,” you tell him; and immediately his hands fall away. Aemond waits for you to say more, but you don’t. You don’t even look at him.

He walks to where the kitchen becomes the living room—you can tell by the creaks in the floor—and again, he waits. After a while he says: “I’ll call you when the new house is ready.”

“No. Have Criston handle it. I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

“You get that I’m in love with you, right?” Aemond forces out, and when at last you turn to him there is the metallic glistening of tears on his right cheek. “I never feel this way about anyone. I don’t know how to handle it, I didn’t even know it was possible. But it’s true.”

“It’s not enough,” you say simply, and resume scrubbing the muffin tin.

He waits in silence, thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes. Then the door opens and shuts—like the jaws of a beast—and he’s gone.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

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andreal831 · 8 months ago

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Can we please stop pretending Klaus is some Machiavellian genius?

I get the show is always trying to tell us he is a mastermind, but there are so many more clever characters who actually set up long term plans to achieve their goals (Lucien, Celeste, Katherine). What did Klaus ever do that was ever strategic or showed any superior intelligence? If anything his intelligence was severely stunted, he was a thousand years old and still acting like a teenager half the time. He made rash and impulsive decisions and they worked out sometimes. They had just as much of a chance of blowing up in his face. This doesn't make him smart. If he wasn't so indestructible, he wouldn't have been so lucky.

Throughout history, we constantly see Elijah having to remind Klaus not to draw attention to them. All he has to do is stop being a serial killer or risk bringing the one man he is terrified of to town. You would think it would be easy, yet he is unable to control himself. At no point do we see him ever preparing to confront Mikael. He only runs from him. He could have created an army to trap Mikael or befriended witches. But no, instead of coming up with a plan, they all just run. Not much of a master strategist. The fandom loves to say it was stupid that Rebekah called Mikael to New Orleans yet doesn't want to talk about how stupid it was for Kol and Klaus to go on a killing spree which they knew would attract Mikael. And he does this not once, not twice, but repeatedly in every flashback we see, all the way from the first flashback in 1001 to the last in the 1950s.

Speaking of the 1950s, what great strategic plan was it to tell Elijah he buried their siblings at sea? He isolated the one family member he had left while Mikael was hot on his trail. This turned Elijah against him and what did Klaus do? Did he come up with a masterplan? No. he ran and body jumped.

Klaus' strength isn't his intelligence but his durability and his psychical strength. Which is why he was so determined to break his curse. He needed to be stronger than everyone, including his siblings. But what did any of that get him? Tristan and Aya at least built a cult and created weapons that could even take down Originals. Yet Klaus wasn't able to come up with any plan to take down Mikael?

We see Elijah tell Klaus that Klaus 'built' New Orleans, yet we never see any indication that Klaus is politically minded. In fact, in season one, he is in charge and a war breaks out in large part due to his scheming. He is constantly killing political leaders (the mayor, the mayor's son, the witches' leaders, every faction head, etc.) and then is surprised when they can't find peace and everyone is against him.

The only time Klaus had a long term plan that actually seemed clever was the lie about the sun and the moon curse. Not only did it take them nearly a thousand years before it actually worked, but he wasn't even the reason it worked. He was tricked by Elijah and literal teenagers. Elijah tricked him to get him to MF, the MF gang tricked him into believing Bonnie was dead, and then he fell for that exact same trick and believed that Elena was dead.

Throughout the shows and even flashbacks, people act like Klaus is this great strategist. And maybe he is compared to the children he is targeting. But when you put him up against his equals (Lucien, Mikael, Dahlia, etc.), he doesn't compare.

Celeste and Genevie were manipulating Klaus left and right in season one. In the short '9' months he was in New Orleans, he destabilized it so much that Hope nearly died. She only survived because of Marcel. They only got her back because of Elijah and Hayley. In fact, Klaus' plan to bring Hope back before they were ready is what drew Dahlia back so quickly, leaving them unprepared to face her.

Klaus wasn't responsible for Mikael's first death. He got lucky that everyone else (the children he was targeting) came up with a plan to trick Mikael. Mikael's second death was simply overpowering him, no outsmarting there. In fact, Mikael would have killed Klaus if his family hadn't saved him earlier.

Yes, he 'tricked' Dahlia into believing he betrayed his family, but this wasn't a trick. He actually did betray them. He murdered Gia and turned Elijah against him once again. He is unable to scheme without actually hurting those close to him and alienating the people trying to help. He lies that he killed Aiden, again another time he just jumps on the first opportunity he sees, and by doing so, he alienates all of their allies and endangers his family. The only reason they end up beating Dahlia is because of Esther. They all would have died based on Klaus' plan. Sure his idea to curse Hayley did technically save her life but he didn't do it for that purpose, he admitted he did it to punish her. There was no long term scheme. He hadn't thought through how it would impact Hope or even what he would tell his daughter as she got older.

Then in Season 3, Lucien had Klaus on his knees before his big brother and big sister swept in to save the day. Even taking down Tristan was thanks to Cami and Freya's plan. He had to be saved from the Strix by Hayley, Marcel, and Stefan. They have their big Thanksgiving dinner where they confront the three, but all it does is show that Lucien, Tristan, and Aurora had out schemed the Mikaelsons. The only thing the Mikaelsons could do was overpower them and threaten them.

In Season 4, Klaus hardly does anything and Season 5 Klaus is an absolute mess. You're telling me this legendary strategist couldn't save his daughter and her mother from a hundred year old vampire? He couldn't figure out a way to find her? In the seven years they were forced apart, he wasn't even trying to find a way to reunite his family? He wasn't a strategist, rather he waited for events to happen and then reacted impulsively, hoping it would work out. His plans are all based on emotion and vendettas, not strategy or intelligence.

Yes, he is Machiavellian in a sense that he has nearly no empathy and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but he lacks the cunningness to be truly Machiavellian. Instead he is just a narcissistic psychopath.

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heavenlycloud · 2 years ago

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meet the users: the angels .ೃ࿔﹢࿐ ☆

huh yunjin (lyra)~ @ jenifrmtheblock

❀ vocalist and dancer who trained for 4 years before debuting in le sserafim. she’s the ‘middle child’ of her group and the supposed reason for sakura’s grey hairs. yunjin’s the funny one in her group just not to her members because they don’t get her american ass jokes. to fans though she’s the american who’s chronically online and borderline an ipad kid so of course she’s fairly popular. instead of actually addressing her feelings she writes them in songs then never thinks about them again.

୧ ‧₊☆彡˚ ⋅﹢

miyawaki sakura~ @ifeelbonita

❀ vocalist and dancer who debuted in japan nearly 13 years ago, then in korea around 6 years ago, and again in korea with le sserafim. honestly, she’s just a tired wine mom with 4 kids at this point. she prioritizes taking care of all of her members and sometimes a little more than herself, but that’s something she’s willing to sacrifice if it means her girls are happy. she’s only been in one committed relationship which is a little disjointed right now, tbh she doesn’t even know what’s going on between the two of them. as the oldest member she’s made fun of for being of the loop on nearly every trend but surprises her members every now and again.

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kim chaewon~ @nepobabychae

❀ leader and vocal who trained for 10 months before her first debut then trained again for about 9 month before debuting in le sserafim. sakura knows her best since they’ve known each other the longest. when it comes to her relationships she has none because she’s the most awkward and dorky mf known to man when a pretty girl comes around…so yeah she has no game. what she does have is a staring problem.

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nakamura kazuha~ @toeshews

❀ dancer and rapper who trained for 12 weeks before making her debut with her members. girlie is an ex-ballerina and her company will not let anyone forget about it…ever. she has literally no interest in dating to the point where she forgets people actually want to date her and laughs when she gets asked out because she thinks its a joke. she’s the second youngest and along with yunjin drains the life out of chaewon like it’s a hobby. sometimes she pretends she doesn’t understand korean so she can eavesdrop on conversations.

୧ ‧₊☆彡˚ ⋅﹢

hong eunchae~ @ohmymanchae

❀ dancer and vocalist who trained for 6 months before debuting in le sserafim. she’s the youngest and her group’s pride and joy. whenever she does anything her members already have phones out to take pictures while they marvel over her just breathing. eunchae is so energetic it’s like she runs on lithium batteries, but nobody complains. she’s the actual reason for sakura’s grey hairs.

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colormints-art · 1 year ago

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what 9 years of casually doing art does to a mf ✨🖌️

2023 redraw from one of my first digital drawings from 2014 (pretty sure that was before i had my first tablet and finger on phone art didnt exist yet so this was made with mouse on my laptop and was therefore the beginning of me fucking up my wrist for the rest of time kekw) and i know i was so proud of this it was my pfp for a long time time after and just isn't it fucking cute to see ?? baby artists being proud of their work was and will always be awesome and like if i havent been proud of it then i definitely wouldn't be where i am today with my art hehe

also while i am glad at one point i understood that there is a system behind drawing clothing folds and they arent just random lines literally,,, anywhere?? ngl the character design itself kinda popped off?? like i only switched two of the hair tie beads around but other than that kept it the exact same so 16 year old me had a point there with the gray shirt and weird double bandanas of all things

anyway this was the first drawing i finished for the calendar so this is already a couple months old really but alas its still really cute i love the vibe so much also the lineart is just /chef's kiss/

#i fucking love looking at my old art fr it's so fun to see the progress aa #ai losers could never 😮‍💨#oc #redraw #original character #original art #ocs #digital artist #digital illustration #art redraw #artists on tumblr #art #mint does art occasionally #colormintsmas2023

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teeth--thief · 8 months ago

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I’ve likely flooded your inbox by now. Tell me about Medvedev?

-R, (Rodka).

Hi hi hello Rodka! Hell yeah, let's get into that mf-- man. I mean man.

He's the author of The Truth about Chernobyl aka Chernobyl Notebook and No Breathing Room (it takes a masochist to read that, which I am not. It's in the Drive regardless, just in case someone out there is). The general consensus goes that he was more or less a mouthpiece for the government, spreading their narrative further. The book, being one of the first ones about the disaster, was meant to ensure that the general public blames all the convenient people, overlooking the ones that truly mattered and were to blame in this story.

In the preface of very own his book, one S. Zalygin (I don't know who you are and do not care to find out) describes him as such:

The author is a nuclear power specialist who worked for a time at the Chernobyl AES and knows it well, just as he is personally acquainted with all the principal participants in the events. By virtue of his official position, he has attended many of the crucial conferences concerning nuclear power plant construction.

Worked for a time at Chernobyl AES is one way to put it. I mean... sure, he did. According to Steinberg at least, he even was the first Deputy Chief Engineer. For 6 months. In 1973. According to Dyatlov, Medvedev was in Chernobyl from 1972 until 1974 - whichever the case may be, that's either 5 or 3 years before the launch of the first unit. Now, time for a little conspiracy theory... Guess when Dyatlov, who was very well known for tolerating nothing but absolute professionalism and discipline, started working in Chernobyl? In 1973. And guess who the first author (if I'm not mistaken) to spread the narrative about Dyatlov basically being The Devil and so much more was? Medvedev. Listen, I'm not saying these two things are related... HOWEVER...

Nah, I'm kidding. If that was the case, A.S. Dyatlov would have mentioned so in How It Was, in which he does talk in length about Medvedev and his book, mainly in chapter 9. He is mean to him in the best, most professional way possible. Example being this bit:

“I arrived at the construction site of the nuclear power plant in the village of Pripyat directly from the Moscow clinic, where I was treated for radiation sickness. I still felt bad, but I could walk and decided that, working, I would get back to normal faster.”

I don’t know how he felt - bad or good, but according to the 6th hospital (A.K. Guskova and A.F. Shamardin), G. Medvedev did not have radiation sickness and the dose was minimal.

He really said I went to the idiot village (got the most important staff from the hospital in Moscow on record) and everybody there knew you (they said you were fine, you fucking liar).

I'm not too sure where I heard this (maybe from Kupnyi?), but the general opinion of the people in the nuclear field, people from ChNPP of Medvedev is that... well... they don't see him as a professional at all, really. He was deemed untrustworthy, a liar and first and foremost - someone lacking the technical knowledge he always presented himself as being in possession of.

Additionally, this is what Nikolai Steinberg - one of the people on the INSAG-7 commission, a ChNPP worker (a book of his is on the Drive, too, by the way) - had this to say about him in this incredibly long interview with not only him but quite a few other interesting people... like the one and only, Stolyarchuk: bless whoever clipped it so that I don't have to look for the right part in a 3 hour long video! (Yes, there are subtitles! And there's also part two) Safe to say - nobody in the professional field likes Medvedev :)

#file: special interest: chernobyl #my hatred towards anyone slandering the NPP staff is absurd (i will never stop)#file: ask!#asker: rodka #Chernobyl

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lietpolski · 2 years ago

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0.) for bulgaria,,,,,u knew this was coming

ur the king and i'm the court jester doing a little hws bulgaria jig for your entertainment 🫡

1) what would their social media page/activity be like: i hate to say this... but this guy is on facebook!!!! maybe he has a twitter but he tweets like once every 9 months and it's like "Hi. I'm hungry". if this is canonverse where humans know nations exists he gets caught liking romania fancams (he doesn't know likes are public) old man bulgaria u mean the world to me

2) what animal they remind me of: your drawing of him as a black bird is the first thing that comes to mind!! :O

3) my thoughts on their design/aesthetic alone: BABYGIRL his canon uniform is SNAZZY and i just,, like how plain he is ig :,) it suits him and it's a great contrast next to ro's design!! 10/10

4) physical headcanons: i think he's a foodie!! especially when he's sad, he gives off the vibes that he curls up on the sofa with a tub of pistachio ice cream and cries the night away.... idk if this counts as a physical headcanon but i think he's physically older than ppl think!! i don't have a concrete age for him but smth like 26-29! he has a bit of a baby face though bless him (and i'm just VERY soft for romania finding him pretty,,)

5) social headcanons: he def keeps to his social circle i think!! he has a decent number of friends buuut he probably hasn't made new ones in decades :,) i think people often overlook him and don't think much of him because of his more meek disposition around new people and not being very flashy!

6) psychological headcanons: HE'S SUCH AN EMOTIONAL GUY,, which is so sweet considering i think that a lot of these characters have grown tough skin from their old age but bulgaria is so baby... he is resilient ofc!! but he shows a lot of emotions!! he wears his heart on his sleeve you can read him so easily :,) i also live for bulgaria with a,, weird fractured sense of pride? he's insecure about a lot of things, but at the same time he's prideful and a bit egotistical at times in a naive unintentional way. i feel like he also idolizes people and concepts very easily!

7) ship(s) with them that I like or at least consider: he and romania are an on-and-off married couple made for each other!!! but but but you've made me think about things like ro/bul/hungary and ro/bul/greece and those r super fun too! :O and i have this weird rarepair of him and england :,) for personal and deeply emotional reasons i also need him and serbia to fuck

8) made-up connections with other characters that weren't in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever): he likes russia a lot! and if i dare push my yugotalia agenda real quick... he adooores macedonia!! ALSO his relationship with hungary is so underexplored!! they don't have the same feud that she and romania do, but i think (at least historically) they get on each other's nerves and there's been a lot of tension there (hatefuck threesome when?) england likes to vacation at his home and b annoying. he kinda hates turkey but they're also friends (in typical balkan fashion) & he and greece would be good buds!! skiing friends too :D

9) headcanons about their past: fella has been through a shit ton!!!! if u ever ask yourself "why is he like this" the answer is what 500 years of ottoman occupation does to a mf hgjfg... and i like the hc i mentioned in my fic of him trying to get ro to marry him in the late 1800s to early 1900s :) ALSO him and greece's feud during the byzantium era!! he was scary back then!! i also loooove it when he's depicted as having been older during the ottoman years and so feeling some sense of responsibility for the other countries around him :,)

10) content about them I'd like to see more of: aaah him during either of the bulgarian empires!! under ottoman rule!! more balkan war stuff!! historical human aus!! i love him being pathetic but i want to see him angry and happy and powerful and in love and heartbroken and 🥺 also i. can never have enough vampire aus im weak

#I LOVE HIMMMM thank you sm for giving me an excuse to talk about the babygirl TY!!#ask #maia talks

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motionsofthemoon · 1 year ago

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A new start(?)

Here we go again... from the top. New job, back on the grind, back to the regularly scheduled programming of the 9-5, but more importantly, the direct deposits. I need that money. I need more money but I'm going to put myself on my feet and go from there.

I can't lie, I've gotten discouraged and I allowed it to make me feel lazy.. I settled for this job but I had to, humbly. I've been veru fortunate to have been able to survive and manage/navogate life these last few months with no job but making sure that bad outcome, still produced income you feel me?

It was hard. I thought there were days I wasn't gonna figure it out but I DID! *yay me* cuz mfs really thought they left me for dead and are shocked to see me at Mima's on an off day lmao... I'm happy I'm healing and growing and I know I am cuz I can see a picture or video of my old life just 1 year ago today and it can move me to tears but it'll never move me back to that apartment, him or that place of life I was in.

Everything truly does happen for a reason, I think the biggest lesson for us is figuring out what the reason, even if you don't figure it out at first or easily. Thats what the struggle for people be, speaking from experience. And, truthfully speaking I want to be able to keep experiencing, learning, growing and healing from it. Keeping it G'! Digressing, digesting and being able to get it out/off without causing a scene.

I don't really know anything anymore, but I know tomorrow is a new start. A good one that I prayed for and will pray for continuously.

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crmsnmth-journal · 9 months ago

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2/25/2024 9:31 PM

And Winter Carnival is officially over. We somehow managed to survive yet another year. By the skin of our teeth, but that does count right? Either way, I am tired and sore, and I am working open to close until my much-needed Thursday off. I need it badly. This weekend burns me out, every year we have to do it. At least the pool teams were fast tonight, and I wasn't stuck there until one or two in the morning. And I was home by 8:30. I'm not going to complain.

Went out with my grandmother today before work. It'd been a while since we made our usual run out to MF, so it was nice to catch up. She's anxious to start planting her garden because of this crazy February weather. She gave me this rad old Army jacket. Has some patches on it that I need to take off, but I looked up what the mean and apparently, I now have a Corporal of the Sixth Army's old coat. I'm curious if it saw battle or not. Kind of interesting to think about, the history of an object like that. What has it seen? Where has it been?

I think I need to see a doctor again. I've been having strange chest pains the past couple days and it makes me nervous. My body's not the healthiest thing in the world. I'm an addict and alcoholic, and my body paid a big price because of that. I would not reccommend the altered diet. Either way, I'll call them tomorrow at some point and make the appointment. Can't really mess around too long with something like this. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'd rather be safe than dead.

Now that I've had time to think about it, the Shameless finale kind of leaves me disappointed. It just felt like the writers wanted to do so much more that whole season. I will say thought that Frank's letter was the perfect way to end the show. I'm irritated though that so many storylines don't seem to finish. And I was really annoyed that Covid is what killed Frank. What was the point of the dementia then? It just made me frustrated, and I don't think that was supposed to be the end of the series. It needed one or two episodes to show Mickey and Ian's stuff, and Lip's stuff. All in all, it was an ok end to a really great show. Wish I wouldn't have waited so long to see it. Now it's time to start searching for the next show I can indulge in random binge sessions over the next month or so.

#journal #my blog #blog #life #my journal #my stuff #my post #my writing #personal #personal blog #slice of life #writing #nonfiction

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beebubb · 4 years ago

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Jeff as a dad

Pregnancy

When he first found out you were pregnant, even though he doesn't admit it, he was scared. Cause, how was he gonna raise a child? Would he even know how to care for it? He was so used to being alone with you that he never thought about being a dad.

It took a lot or reassurance from you that it would be ok and that he would be a good dad.

Whenever you had nausea and spent the morning throwing up, at first he literally didn't know what to do or say, he probably was just like "umm.... Do you want some water?" but he got used to it eventually and would sit next to you and hold back your hair

He has a huge fucking libido, but was scared to have sex sense he thought he was gonna hurt you (also cause he's a kinky and rough mf). But once he saw how horny you would get, no way he can say no! Also he wouldn't last long without sex because, 9 months is too much to wait.

Is a huge boob man, so when he saw how big your breasts were getting, no way he could just stand by and not get his hands on them.

Would fondle you a lot while having sex

He was always scared to touch your belly in any way sense he thought he would be too rough but once you convinced him to feel the baby kick, he wouldn't stay away

Would lay down on the couch and have conversations with the baby and would explain how to become a great killer like him or tell it stories of his coolest kills

Jeff: then i slit open his fucking throat and shit ton of blood gushed out! It got all over me but damn it was worth it!! Isn't your dad just the coolest?! *proud smile*

S/O: *baby kicks showing a small little bump on her belly*

Jeff: !!! *gasps* see babe?!? They think I'm cool too!!

Birth

When the day came for you to give birth, he was excited but nervous too. He was excited to finally see his baby for the first time but knew that you were gonna go through a lot of pain

He has strong hands so if you wanna squeeze his hand, go right ahead

When the baby was finally born, he won't admit it but, he almost cried that day. He was so happy to see his kid and felt relieved that you were ok and that the pain you were going through was finally over.

Didn't want to hold the baby at first but you convinced him

Jeff: oh uh..it's fine babe! You carry them!

S/O: jeff... I did not carry the baby for 9 months and go through excruciating pain for you to not carry them, so carry them, or i'll get up this bed and kick your ass

Raising the kid

Whenever he had to take care of the baby, he would put the baby in a baby carrier and work out just to show off.

Jeff: *finished doing 50 pushups* you see how great i am? 50 push ups! No break! You're so lucky to have a dad like me. Bet i can do 100!

Baby: *literally just watching while sucking on its pacifier*

Jeff: ha! You'll see i can do 100!

He has no trouble feeding the baby or taking it places. But complains when it comes to changing its diaper

Would probably be the type of dad to copy the baby when it cries untill it actually stops crying

Lets liu take care of them whenever he's busy too but gets jealous when he sees that liu can make the baby laugh

Once the baby grows up and i around 3-4 years old. He starts to show them how to kill and be like him.

Jeff: *using a dummy* see! You grab them like this, put the knife here, and then you stab them! Got it?

Kid: got it!

Jeff: great! Now you try!

Kid: *does the same as him*

Jeff: hell yeah! Perfect!!

Once the kid starts going to school, he'll teach them "don't take shit from other killers"

An asshole kid bullies jeff's kid? Well jeff will hate that kid too and every time there are parent-teacher conferences, he'll make sure to make that kid's life a living hell

The type of dad to brag about his kid with other parents whenever there are PTA meetings

Another killer parent: MY kid is succeeding at almost every class! They have almost mastered the use of weapons at only 4 years old!

Jeff: oh really? Well, MY kid ALREADY masters several weapons and know to properly stab someone!

Killer parent: well MY kid already killed their first victim!

S/O: jeff come on! This is a PTA meeting! Not a contest!

Jeff: I'm not letting this asshole think he's better than our kid!! *turns to the parent* well MY kid has already been to their first killing spree! And at only 3 years old!!

And that's a normal PTA meeting with jeff, so get used to it

#mine #my post #creepypasta #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer headcanons #Jeff the killer

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

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Harringrove tag game! by @lovebillyhargrove

I was tagged by @mrsblackruby! tysm!! <3

1. Do they get together BEFORE MF possessing Billy or AFTER shit goes down? (Or maybe DURING😲)

Typically I say before, like at around Christmas time in ‘84. I think anybody in a small town puts aside character prejudices around the holidays and tries to make those connections with everyone, so I’ve always felt, especially since the fight was literally only a month before, that Steve would reach out to Billy the night of the Snowball and things would, well, snowball from there.

2. Who kisses who first?

Definitely Steve. I firmly stand by the hc that Billy’s never kissed a boy before Steve, and maybe Steve hasn’t either, but he’s the romantic, no way is he going to let Billy kiss him first.

3. Where do they have their first sex? (Location) (HJs and BJs count)

I don’t really have a solid answer for this? But definitely somewhere very spur of the moment, maybe somebody’s couch or the locker rooms?

4. Who says 💖 I LOVE YOU 💖 first?

Imma say Billy. Opposite of my last answer, I don’t feel like either of them would say they love each other on accident or like, in the moment. I think their first I love you’d would be very very controlled. I also think Billy has less experience with actually being in love, so when the time comes that he’s actually mustered up the courage to say it to Steve, I think he’s super nervous and practices the perfect scenario in his head a dozen times. It’s definitely not blurted out.

5. I believe this fandom is way past having hard feelings about it, so

BottomSteve! or BottomBilly?

I don’t have a strong opinion either way, but typically, I prefer bottom!Steve. No particular reason, that’s just the way I tend to read things!

6. Do they give gifts to each other?

Absolutely! Billy doesn’t have the disposable income to run out and buy Steve new things every time he wants to give him something, so I think he does a really cheesy like, giving him a kiss as a present and making a big deal out of it.

Steve is sort of the same way, in that he doesn’t like to give Billy material things, because he doesn’t want him to think he’s being pretentious or trying to hold his wealth over Billy’s head like he’s his mom or something, so he only gives Billy personal things. Old pilled t-shirts to wear to bed and a blanket to keep on the couch in his room that smells like him. Things like that.

They also try to make eachother things as presents, like food or little knick knacks in art class, but they always fail miserably and think it’s really funny when all they have to show is a smoking mess.

7. Where do they end up living? California, Chicago, Hawkins... Idk .. Alaska??)))) Any other location?

I honestly think they stay in Hawkins. I don’t think after everything Billy would be able to leave Max behind, and I also think that Steve would like having a connection to where he grew up, even if bad things happened there. If they did leave though, I see them going down south, maybe tourist trap Tennessee?

8. What are their future jobs?

In my mind that very much depends on if we’re following canon and this is post Starcourt or like, if it’s a whole new AU. Because after that I don’t think Billy would actually ever be physically well enough to work again. I know it’s a pretty unpopular opinion, bc the general hc is that he bounces back within a year or so with some scars (which is cool! I’m not knocking that I’m just sayin) but I think he'd be permanently disabled, on oxygen support 24/7, and just with all sorts of health complications from, you know, literally having a gaping hole in his chest, that would make it impossible for him to work. In that sort of scenario I usually think of Steve as a being teacher or an artist, something that he doesn’t have very long work hours or can do from home so he can be there to take care of Billy.

If we’re going with like, a no upside down or a Billy is never hurt au, I think he stays in Hawkins and just works in some sort of a mom and pop until he’s the new manager, like at an antique store maybe?

(p.s. stay tuned for an upcoming fic about Billy working in a fix-it shop!!)

As for Steve, I feel like he wouldn’t ever be able to settle on one career when he didn’t have limitations. I don’t really know what he’d eventually decide is his calling, maybe design of some sort? Jewelry making?

This is a hard question, I don’t really see them as being tied down to one career indefinitely, but I do know I don’t see either of them ever working desk jobs.

9. Who's a better cook?

Neither of them. Billy wasn’t allowed in the kitchen growing up because Neil said it’s a woman's place, and Steve is just god awful at following directions, like, can’t tell the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon or preheat the oven awful. They just eat takeout and like, cold sandwiches literally all the time until someone (Joyce) notices and teaches them how to cook on the weekends.

10. Steve Hargrove or Billy Harrington?

Billy Harrington. I don’t see him wanting to be a Hargrove anymore. He has no positive ties to the name with his mom leaving and his dad being his dad, so I think he’d want to take Steve’s last name. Also this is kinda weird but I am VERY particular about my middle name hcs (I think it’s an ocd thing? idk) and I have an alliterative name for Steve that wouldn’t work if he was a Hargrove instead of a Harrington, so that’s also part of the reason.

11. What's Max's reaction when she hears they're together?

I think probably just like, confusion. Not over Billy being with a boy, but over that boy being Steve. Like, she doesn’t know Steve well, but she knows he’s the responsible big brother to Dustin, and that’s the exact opposite of what her brother is like, so it catches her off guard. She’s definitely a little gossip though, wanting all the not-gross details about Steve from her brother. She’s basically just a little sister about it, I guess.

12. Describe in ONE SENTENCE Hopper's reaction when he hears the names Hargrove and Harrington mentioned together?

Not again.

13. Does Robin like Billy OR does Robin hate Billy?

I think she likes him. I have a little hc that she and him were together in an underground pre-gsa kinda thing in high school. She pretends she can’t stand him, but the two of them are quick best friends. (this might just be me but I think the two of them together would give statler and waldorf vibes)

14. What about Dustin?

Dustin I think actually thinks Billy is really cool. Like, he’s like a little double agent, hearing from Max all the annoying things about Billy, and from Steve the good things. He’ll gag if Steve gets too mushy over him and he’ll definitely join in with Max in calling Billy gross, and he also absolutely gives Billy a (very non-intimidating. he’s too soft) shovel talk, but I think he really likes and looks up to Billy as like, his other big brother.

15. Fav Harringrove AU?

Oh gosh, I can’t even pick. I think I like childhood friends aus best? They’re really fun to play with and it always ends up being super sweet. I’m a big fan of soulmates too for kind of the same reasons. I like mushy stuff.

16. Billy+Camaro=...??? (Not strictly Harringrove, but I can't not to ..)

I honestly don’t think Billy cares about the camaro that much. He’d be sad when it gets totaled because that was his only way of getting around and also his first car, but I don’t think the car itself has that much value to him. I mean, he treats it with absolutely zero respect, jumping curbs and driving too fast and slamming on those breaks. The camaro is just a car. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’ll tag: @lifegaurd-hargrove85! @deardmvz! and @strangebrainrot! no pressure! and as usual, if anybody else sees this and wants to participate, feel free!

#tag game!!#long post #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #ej writer

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teeth-and-tea · 3 years ago

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Manga & Anime I've Binged This Month: July 2021

Anime:

(7/12) My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!: GAY AF BUT JUST UNDER THE RADAR ENOUGH TO SLIDE BY THE CENSORS?????? JESUS. A dumbass dense as a brick mf isekais herself into being the villain character in an otome (dating sim) game where the villain always dies/is exiled. To counter that, she changes EVERYTHING. And it's FANTASTIC. I watched the dub, which has its moments of meh, but otherwise suits it great. The story made me laugh and gasp and kept being fresh and surprising and of course it's based off a Light Novel like so many good new isekais are nowadays. Reverse Harem style but some of the "harem" characters are GIRLS. Yeah, and she even gets CONFESSED TO AND KABEDONED (wall slammed) BY OTHER GIRLS. Yeah. I love this show. 10/10, enjoy yourselves.

(7/13) If It's for My Daughter, I'd Even Defeat a Demon Lord: Add this to the list of "little girl child is adopted by an older male figure into a healthy father-daughter bonding experience and is honestly really cute and sweet but always has a tragic backstory" list! Little demon girl is found in the woods by an adventurer and of course he takes her in after some back and forth. He's 100% Maes Hughes here with 1000% less death! It's so cute! It gets kinda weird towards the end tho, very "I'm gonna marry the man who took me in and raised me" vibes which is, imo, very bad. I HOPE it doesn't fall into that trap but, c'est la vie. Overall, kinda boring, but the dub let me finish making a crochet tank top I've been ignoring so it gets a score boost. 8.5/10.

(7/15) That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime (Dub): Heads up, the Sub is on the Crunchyroll but the Dub is on Funimation but I have both so I get to watch both! Season 2 (part 2) is just now being released due to Covid so I'm happy to watch the series again. I'm actually really pleased by the Dub, the Sub was so good I thought it wouldn't compare but nope! Still good! What got me into the Isekai genre tbh. 10/10 I bought the Light Novels lmao save me

(7/17) Ace Attorney: Is Miles Edgeworth Does Gay? I own the anniversary edition of the games and haven't played more than a few hours so I binged the anime and now I'm 10 levels of Miles/Phoenix hell. Gay as shit. Funny, ngl, but I'm now obsessed with the fact that Japan's court system is corrupt as hell, I say OBJECTION in my daily life, and I found out the San Francisco Newspaper agrees with me. Life is wild sometimes. 8.5/10

(7/18) Beastars (S2): I watched the first season years ago ironically and then ended up really liking it. Story of my life. S2 came out the day of and I binged it with my younger bro and loved it AGAIN. Like... dude. 9/10 because honestly? Im gonna be recovering from the consensual leg mauling. CONSENSUAL. MAULING.

(7/26) Saga of Tanya the Evil: Set in a fantasy WWI, this Isekai features a capitalist who spoke to god and said "I'm an atheist" to which god said "Fuck you in particular". You love to hate Tanya and at some point it kinda clicks that although this character IS a sadist, mean, in no way nice and kinda evil, you start seeing the moments where they're very human start click into place. It's fascinating seeing this as almost a character study of Lawful Evil characters, but I think of this more as a palate cleanser for more Good Guys later in your media consumption. Just never read the comments that are with the series because you will regret it. 9/10.

(7/27) The Rising of the Shield Hero: I'm gonna be real if you're the type to get hung up on if things are too problematic to enjoy you'll probably not enjoy this. I'm not knocking people for doing so, just that the MC here LITERALLY has two slaves, he bought from a slaver, whom is not shown as an evil character in the series. And for some godforsaken reason the one time the slaves are released is framed as a bad thing????? I can't get over this tbh. I hate to admit this is one of the most fascinating and interesting and honestly fresh feeling isekai/anime I've seen in a hot minute. But it's got SLAVERY. It's whack. I can't wait for season 2. 9/10.

Manga:

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#my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #manga #anime #that time i got reincarnated as a slime #if it's for my daughter #beastars #ace attorney #the rising of the shield hero

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vulpes-z3rda · 4 years ago

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SFW Alphabet ~ Nishinoya

A/N: HI HI!! I hope you all enjoy this and i hope the Nishinoya nation are doing okay ^_^

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Have you met this boy? Have you taken him in? Absorbed him and everything about him? Yes? Good. This fucking DUDEEEE, omg. he loves affection. 25/10 on the scale for him tbh. s he around at all?? He needs to be touching you. Whether it be linked pinkies or small pecks on the cheek or hugging you from behind. He needs to be doing it because he wants to show you how much he cares all the time.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

THE BEST OF BEST FRIENDS!!!!! Need to laugh? Bitch he's there. Wanna go on a random adventure that will probably end up with you both having to wear bandages and bandaids for weeks? He's down and ready to go! Movie marathons and being cuddled up together under a blanket? Human reading this, he'll do it.

The friendship started when he was running through the halls being his usual chaotic self and he accidentally ran into you. After you both got up and dusted yourself off you were going to yell at him when he started apologising. Forgiving him you said you'd hoped to see him around and giggled as he very enthusiastically agreed. (he also thought you were really cute and wanted to stick around with you!)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Omg... of course. You don't think he would?? How dare you. That, my good reader, is a war crime of a thought. He isn't really bothered about how the cuddling happens but he much prefers being the little spoon. Being held by you, resting on your chest and just relaxing into your touch is something he loves doing whenever he can. Obviously he'll swap but its like... a surprise when he is the big spoon.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does want to settle down eventually. Once you're both comfortable with good jobs and a nice home, he'll be sure to settle down with you. For now, though, he just likes talking about your future together and where you think you'll be. Cooking?? Cleaning?? What are those? Please, for the sake of your home, don't let him near the kitchen. He can clean, he just doesn't like it. If you want him to clean you're going to have to make a game out of it. "You'll get a kiss every 10 minutes if you do it." "AHHH OKAY!!"

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I think he would be scared because even though he doesn't love you in that way anymore, he still really cares about you and doesn't want to hurt you. But, he'd be upfront because you deserve that decency and he would make sure that you both stay friends because he still wants you in his life.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

We all know he simps. A pure-blooded simp you know? So he simps for you. He's 100% committed to you. He doesn't see anyone else, only you and he is more than happy with that. I feel like he'd propose to you after a few years of dating, like between 2-6 years maybe?? Then you've had time to properly settle together and gotten to know each other inside and out.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He can be gentle but given his chaotic nature, he's probably unintentionally brazen and rough around the edges. But he tries for you because he knows sometimes you just need him to be calm and to be more aware of your emotions so he tries his best.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Absolutely adores hugging you. Adores hugs in general tbh. They happen any chance he gets tbh. You've got your back turned to him because your mum asked you to do the dishes? BACK HUGS TIME!! Talking to him about something? You had best bet this man is going to tackle you in a hug.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Yes, he's affectionate but I feel like he'd wait a bit before he decided he says I love you. He wants to make sure everything between you two is comfortable and completely returned before he commits to it on that level. So I'd say he'd wait about 5-7 months before he says it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

We've all seen how he is about people flirting with Kiyoko and they aren't even dating, so Lord could only imagine. He would probably be by your side at all times and leaving snide comments to the person who is stealing your attention. More on the passive-aggressive side of jealous behaviour.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses can either be softest things or the most passionate things. There is no in-between with him. It all depends on his mood. Preferably, he'd like to kiss you on the lips and neck because he feels like it both shows how much he loves you and shows others your his. He loves to be kissed on the jaw and on the lips for the same reasons. It just screams "we love each other and want y'all to know" in his mind.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Considering he's a big child himself, I'd say he's pretty good with kids. 100% the type of guy to join in on any game to keep them entertained, will tell stories (mainly making you royalty and himself a knight who saves you (Tsukki is a dragon that kidnaps you)), he'll give piggyback rides if they want them and he's just overall ecstatic to be around them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

You have to wake him up most mornings cause this mf is always trying to sleep in. You usually make his fave breakfast and then after that he drags upstairs again to cuddle again. This usually means he's rushing around to get to school and practice while you thought ahead and got ready before he dragged you back.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

SNUGGLES!! He'll make sure that once you've both done you're nightly routines, that you both wrap yourselves up in the bedsheets and just cuddle and talk about your day. His head is on your chest and he presses soft kisses to your collarbone as you sing to him or just play with his hair. Overall, it's just a soft loving experience for you both and he adores it and you all the same.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Give him a few months and that's when he really starts opening up. But, leading up to then he gives little hints about himself and drops little things that you might not have known every now and then. Then all of a sudden, he's saying everything. Every little detail he wants you to know, everything he's feeling and he tells you what he's insecure about because he wants you to know him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I mean... I'd say about average?? It depends on the situation. Someone's flirting with you? 0-100 real quick. Are you just upset about something and taking it out on him? He tries to keep level headed because he doesn't want to get mad at you. Someone making fun of his height? 0.0 well... short people tend to be the scariest and that's all I'm going to say 😌.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

I feel like he's the kind of person who couldn't remember what 2 + 2 is half the time but if someone was like "What pet did y/n have as a kid??" and he'd be right there answering. Or they'd just ask "Hey, do you know y/n's favourite food?" and boom, he's giving a whole recipe on how to make it just how you like it. But on the odd occasion, he's just like "Oh fuck.... what's their favourite colour again??"

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Your first anniversary. He made sure that he got everything you did on your first date and just sprinkled in little gifts of memories you made leading up to the anniversary. Not gonna lie, he also makes sure you have a nice little at home part of it too, You watch your favourite movies and eat your favourite snacks. This boy just wanted it to be special for you because he wants you to know just how much he cares.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

On a scale of 1-10?? I'd place him at like 9. We've all seen he is about Kiyoko... and she was a CRUSH! So what he'd be like over his s/o?? Jesus lord above. Noya goes ✨ bark bark ✨ when he protects you. Listen, people who flirt with you make Noya go brrrr, you know? *whispering* He likes it when you protect him by mocking or teasing the other person. Your witty remarks? Gold. His brain? Full of serotonin. His face? Basically just a smile. Hotel? Trivago.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

BITCH. Like I said, the effort he put in for your one year?? ✨immaculate✨. Like honestly sometimes your dates are 🌸🍡🍭🌈✨ and then other times they're like ⛓️🖤🔪🥀🩸. But he puts a lot of effort into making sure the date you do fits with your mood. Tired? Stay at home date. Hyper? You go to the beach or park. Chill? Stargazing. Craving stuff? Cafe and restaurant dates. As for everyday tasks... he lacks motivation and usually gets distracted when he starts them however he tries his best to do the things you ask him to do.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He tends to accidentally neglect you for volleyball. Does he mean to? No, but the boy struggles to prioritise for god's sake. (After Suga talks to him he tries to be better at it but sometimes he still falls into it). HE ALSO LEAVES DIRTY CLOTHES EVERYWHERE BUT WHAT TEEN DOESN'T??

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Averagely concerned. The blonde in his hair is fading?? Asks you to redo it for him. It's his signature look and he demands to be a standout libero. Just wants to be able to be noticed by something outside of his skills ig.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

IUYTRESXDFGHJK MAAM/SIR/HOOMAN. This puppy of a boy would practically d i e without you by his side. He doesn't care whether he has you in his life as his s/o or his friend. He just knows he needs you to be in his life. periodt 💅.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He likes climbing trees but half the time he gets stuck and has to jump out meaning you're at the bottom catching him-

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

Doesn't really like it when someone easily gives up on their goals. He knows if you've seen yourself being able to do it, then you can. But if you give up super quickly?? He's gonna be disappointed.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

HE CLINGS TO YOU LIKE A KOALA BEAR!!! Hear me out, baby boy just wants to be close to the person he loves and so this lead to him holding onto you while you both sleep!

#hq #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq headcanons #hq oneshots #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshots #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya oneshot #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya headcanons #nishinoya imagine

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bookscoffeeandracoons · 4 years ago

Text

366 Days Reblog Challenge - November 2020

I really feel like saying sorry for the Masterlist spam! If i do this yearly reblog thingy again, I’ll have to try to keep up with the months and their masterlists. But nonetheless I am very happy to make them. It’s been a lot of fun and i can only keep repeating myself with saying thank you to the creative geniuses and wishing everybody a happy new year! XOXO

p.s. Only one more Masterlist to go so the spamming will ease down soon again 😅

01. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 2 by @avengerscompound

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, shower sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

02. “Talking to the Moon” by @littlemessyjessi

Remus Lupin x Reader: PS Reader, Plus Size Reader, Reader with Mythical Heritage

Prompts: “I literally forgot that you’re a werewolf.”

“Am I supposed to understand this costume or was the concept to just be as weird and confusing as possible?”

“Love, do you understand the concept of couples costume?”

“So…can we reuse this costume?”

Heartbeat by @after-avenging-hours

Soulmate AU where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together… [Part 9 contains smut]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

03. Part 1

04. Part 2

05. Part 3

06. Part 4

07. Part 5

08. Part 6

09. Part 7

10. Part 8

11. Part 9

12. Bonus Chapter: Bucky’s POV

13. Bonus Drabble

14. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 3 by @avengerscompound

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, D/S, bondage, riding crops, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

15. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 4 by @avengerscompound

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, D/S, bondage, vanginal fingering, squirting, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

16. Envy by @bonniebird

Loki x Reader

17. Envy (Part Two) by @bonniebird

Loki x Reader

18. Envy (Part Three) by @bonniebird

Loki x Reader

19. Neighbour by @evanstarff

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Fluff me up, scotty!

Summary: Steve Rogers hasn’t been kissed twice since 1945.

20. Control by @borkingbarnes

Goddess of Lightning!Reader x Geralt of Rivia

Warnings: smutsmutsmut (18+ only!)

Summary: A man of power and dominance, the Witcher does not give up control. But when he does, it’s oh so sweet.

21. Winter’s Ghost by @jobean12-blog

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Softness and fluff <3

Summary: You meet the Winter Soldier on a very cold winter night.

22.The Hamptons’ House: 2009 - 1 by @avengerscompound

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Grief, Smut (MMF, bisexual threesome, oral sex, double vaginal penetration)

Synopsis: When Tony goes missing for three months in Afghanistan you grieve his death. His subsequent return and outing as Iron Man means your first time seeing him in the Hamptons carries a lot of emotion and questions.

23. Winter’s Ghost Part 2 by @jobean12-blog

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst and fluffy fluff :)

Summary: After spending some time with The Winter Soldier you realize you want more of it and more of him.

24. Winter’s Ghost Part 3 by @jobean12-blog

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: teeny tiny angst and lots of sweet fluff

Summary: A continuation of Winter’s Ghost part 1 and 2 where you are spending time in Romania and just being happy.

25. Snowball Fight by @squirrel-moose-winchester

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: FLUFF

26. Melody by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: On a late night wander, Bucky hears a song from the past

27. Breathe by @avengerscompound

Clint Barton Gen Fic

Synopsis: If Clint isn’t the best Archer in the world then what is he?

28. Remember by @amanda-teaches

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mark of Cain!Dean, breakup, angst, swearing, indecision, reconciliation, second chances

Summary: After breaking up with Dean, a bittersweet anniversary rolls around. You prepare to spend it using wine to help forget, but the arrival of the past at your doorstep changes things.

29. The Hamptons’ House: 2009 - 2 by @avengerscompound

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of torture, illness, and PTSD

30. Empath: Prologue by @bucky-the-thigh-slayer

Bucky Barnes x Female reader, Steve Rogers x Female reader, Sam Wilson x Female reader (not all at once)

Warnings: Mentions of child kidnapping, doctors tests, medical tests and abuse and child death, but none of it is explicit.

Summary: You’re an Empath, a Mutant, and you’re in love. Will your feelings save you… or will theirs destroy you?

Back to main Masterlist

#becca's reblog challenge #becca's reblog challenge masterlist #fic rec #fic rec masterlist

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renohasbigtits · 4 years ago

Note

Omg your Iggy mpreg headcanon is so gooooddd! Will you consider to do another Iggy mpreg headcanon which takes place in the true ending?

Mpreg Ignis (Final Fantasy 15: True Ending Version)

AHAAHAHAHAH! I can’t believe that people really like the Mpreg Ignis Headcanon! Thank you so much!

Something you guys have probably noticed by now is that I’m not a huge fan of the true ending.

Not saying it’s bad, I just don’t like how:

•Noct dies

•Iggy is blind

•Ravus dies

I also don’t agree with the assumption that the alternative ending is a “happier ending” because Luna is still dead.

But I digress, I don’t think the ending is bad. it’s just not my favorite ending.

But I will do it. I will give the people what they want!

To make this one different than the Alternative ending this one will have;

•Ignis is Blind :(

•Noctis is dead (also Ravus)

•Ignis has his own restaurant because of course he should!!!

I guess this takes place two years after The light is restored. Idk you change that if ya want to.

Apologies if it’s similar to the Alternative version, I did try my best to make this one different!

Yes it’ll albaby’s are default Female but you can change it if you want to!

Alright alright, less talking, Let’s go!

(this does contain Mpreg =Male Pregnancy. Don’t like? Don’t read!)

•Look

•this man is a lot of things (hotter than satan is one of em.)

•but happy isn’t really one of them rn.

•Just broken up with his long time partner.

•things aren’t going well for him...

•than suddenly he’s getting sick!

• certain smells bother him, he’s throwing up every morning.

•it’s gotten to the point where he can’t really cook anymore at his restaurant. And he now has to supervise.

•not that it’s a huge issue since there are other amazing cooks there to help but Ignis does not like sitting on the sidelines.

•than a female co-worker, Shannon, asks Iggy what’s wrong, he tells her that he has a “strange illness”

•she asks what the symptoms are

•tiredness

•morning sickness

•Smell sensitivity

•Mood swings

•than she starts giggling.

•”Ignis, I’m a chef but I’m also a Mother of 3 kids.”

• “What are you imply, Pray tell?”

•”I think your Pregnant. You have the classic symptoms.”

•Ignis was dumbfounded. 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘵?

•He made a Doctors appointment.

•After what feels like 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴, The Doctor comes back with the results.

•”Mr Scientia, The results are in. You are Pregnant! Congratulations!”

•Ignis was not one to be speechless but this...

•he wasn’t sure what to do!!

•he wasn’t sure if he was ready for Parenthood.

•He was Blind and he couldn’t never see what his child would look like.

•or, if it was the right time....

•so he turned to his friends, Prompto and Gladiolus, for help.

•Prompto had to ask if Iggy’s joking

•he wasn’t obviously

•Gladio asks if Ignis has tried to get the other parent involved.

•Ignis did tried to do that.

•it didn’t go well...

•the other parent outwardly admitted that they did not want to be in the baby’s life.

•Well Fuck

•Poor Ignis (someone hug him 🥺)

•Prompto and Gladiolus, being the best friends they are decided then and there, that there gonna help Ignis, no matter what decision he makes.

•Shannon, the coworker in question, steps up and offers Ignis tips on pregnancy, since she knows it can be stressful, especially with your first one.

•Ignis really appreciates it.

•she’s also leads when Ignis has a doctors appointment or is too sick to be there.

•8 Weeks: Ignis + Pregnant = Moody Ignis

•Little things bother him more than usual.

•Ignis almost Lashed out Prompto because he did something that annoyed him.

•Shannon assured Prompto that this is just a mood swing and that he didn’t mean it.

•at this point, Ignis and Shannon have started become close due to the fact that she’s basically has become his right hand man (or woman)

•Her helping more also has taken any stress Iggy has had about it off his chest.

•Ignis couldn’t be more greatful.

•12 weeks: a small bump has started to show. So adorable!

•And of course, ya know Prompto is gonna take SO.MANY.PICS of Ignis’s bump growing.

•he’s gonna scrapbook it (rip his sd card tho)

•lris already has started making baby clothes. Girl clothes.

•15 weeks: You thought he was a mom before? Oh you ain’t seen nothing yet!

•he acts real fatherly (or motherly) to the youngest employee at the restaurant.

•good thing to because the poor guy is always a nervous reck.

•he has talent but very little confidence. So Ignis assuring him, helps a lot.

•Shannon is now basically his iggy’s real hand man (or woman)

•she helps, even when Ignis’s there.

•not just in work, but in his pregnancy too (I swear. I did not mean to create a character)

•giving him tips, things to help him, with baby supplies to buy. She’s the real mvp.

•(let’s skip a little)

•20 Weeks: Ignis has already started to feel her move. It 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 his heart. (I’ll see myself out 🚪)

•All joking aside, he was genuinely touched (that wasn’t a pun. I swear!) by feeling her kick.

•At this point, Ignis had already found out it’s a girl. (Again, you can change it if ya want to.)

•much to lris’s delight.

• THATS IT! HE’S MAKING A BUN IN THE OVEN! (>:)

•lord take the wheel....

• he tries to control himself, when it comes to his strange cravings (like pickles with peanut butter?? Wtf???)

•but he gives in when no one’s looking.

•𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰

•”I Noticed Ignis.”

•”I don’t know why you are referring to.”

•25-28 weeks: he’s already getting bigger (don’t say that to his face tho.)

•if you think his work is being put on hold while being very pregnant, you clearly have never met Ignis.

•of course, he is being a little more easy on himself. Not walking around as much and Shannon makes a lot more decisions (with iggy’s trust)

•but he is a workaholic, so he’s working til he takes maternity leave.

•(I’m really trying to add Gladio to the story but lol)

•Prompto is already getting a new sd card cause he’s taking SO.MANY.PREGNANCY. PICS.

• “Prompto, if you don’t take any unnecessary pictures, you wouldn’t have to buy another sd car-

•”I AM NOT DELETING ANY OF THIS PICS MR MOM!”

•32 Weeks (I’m trying not to make this boring lol): He’s still working!!

•Ain't nothin' gonna break-a my stride, Nobody gonna slow me down!

•Shannon starts to get a bit worried.

•”Sir. I believe that you should take a break. Please”

•Ignis looked at his right hand and smile. “I should. Thank you Shannon.”

•36 weeks: He feels 𝘵 𝘪 𝘳 𝘦 𝘥

•his poor swollen feet :(

•thankfully, lris is secretly planning a baby shower.

•Everyone is coming.

•Shannon distracting him until she’s called to bring him over.

•when Ignis sees this, he’s tears up.

•"𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘕𝘰𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦."

• he gets so many adorable gifts.

•Prompto gets him a Chocobo Plush (classic)

•Gladio gets him a toy dagger. This son of a Bit-

•”Hey, you are never too early to start training!”

•Shannon got him a baby mobile.

•lris gotten him more baby clothes. Yay....(Am I the only one who can’t stand getting clothes as a gift?)

• lris had made an adorable cake. In his mind, Iggy admitted that she was as good as he was.

•this mf still working around the restaurant from his office.

•”Igg-Sir. Can we talk?”

•”Yes Shannon. And you can call me Ignis, were mutuals.”

•”Ignis. Promise me that when you enter in the third trimester, that you’ll take maternity leave. You’ll need to prepare for your baby.”

•Ignis was taken a back a bit. Yes, her concerns were valid but he didn’t wanna put everything on Shannon.

•”Ignis, I know that you don’t wanna put everything on me but...but you need to Focus on your daughter. You need to prepare.”

•”I-“

•”I’ll handle it. I know what I’m doing.” She smiled.

•Ignis chuckled back. “Really?” Getting up from his chair.

•”Well.” She left while looking back. “I have learned from the best.”

•Ignis laughed. He did taught her well. “Alright. I will. Thank you Shannon.”

•”don’t thank me si- Ignis. I’m just doing my job.”

•honestly Shannon has been a great support system for Ignis. Not just because she knows a thing or two or three about pregnancy, but she really has stepped up.

•Ignis considers her a great friend.

37 weeks: 9 months. He now has to get ready.

•it’s his last day at the restaurant. For awhile anyways.

•it’s actually really emotional. The employees are sad that they won’t see him for awhile but are happy that he’s taking time to be ready on fatherhood (**cough cough Motherhood cough cough**)

•To Ignis, There like a family, a family he gained when he lost so much.

•his eyesight

• and Noct

•After they’ve closed, they celebrate.

•Ignis and Shannon smiling at everyone.

•”I’m proud of you Sir.”

•Ignis smiled back. “Really?”

•”Yeah. Your the bravest person I’ve met.”

•”How, Pray tell?”

•”You may be blind but you certainly don’t act like it. You 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 let it stop you. I’m- I’m really proud of you.” She choked up.

•Ignis looked at her with his Emerald eyes and she looked back.

•”And I’m proud of you to, Shannon.”

•(let’s cut to the chase. Oooo. Foreshadowing.)•

•38 weeks: Ignis wonders how much his blindness will affect his daughter.

•he wasn’t lying when he said that his senses have grown. He basically doesn’t need any help.

•not that he wouldn’t have either way, but he doesn’t wanna be a burden on anyone. Including his daughter.

•Sometime during the day, Iggy starts feeling pain down his back.

•it wasn’t too bad, so he went on with his day.

•but the pain got worse.

•so bad that he started doing his deep breath’s.

•(y’all what it is!!)

•(weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee woooooooooooooooo 🚑)

•(that will never get old xD)

•The midwife tells him to get to the hospital, NOW!

•This is it.

•he has to be cut open....

• She was here.

•Ignis holding his daughter for the first time. Well, he broke down.

•he couldn’t see her but he was there to her hold her. He is there for her.

•”Hi Darling. I’m your Father.”

•she suddenly stopped crying and stared at his bad eye.

•After a week, hes able to take her home.

•And oh, If you thought Prompto took too many photos of Ignis’s pregnancy belly....oh boy.

•he immediately starts taking many, MANY MANY, Photos of her.

•she actually looked confused.

• Gladio joking said “so, when are we going to train her?”

•Ignis later made his food cold, on purpose later that night.

•Shannon got to hold her and fell in love with her immediately.

•”feels like holding my son for the first, all over again.” She said teared up.

•Over the years, She has grown to being a shy and a adorable little girl.

•She’s so helpful during work and is popular with the staff. They treat her like they’re siblings.

•She always tries to help Ignis’s blindness. Guiding him around.

•”Watch where your going Daddy.”

•Even tho, he can get around just fine. It warms his heart that she tries to help him.

•Of course, Ignis wishes that Noct could have Met her. Even once.

•but somehow, he believes that Noct is watching her in heaven.

•Noctis is so proud of his friend.

Wow! So long! Well I hoped ya like it. I hope the true ending version is just as good as the alternative version.

I thought it would be cute that he would have a restaurant. ^~^ Gladio got the right idea 💡

Also I did not mean to create a new character, Shannon, but eh why not? I grew attached to her over the story (she sounds like a like Karen but she’s a good Karen. I promise.) and who knows? She might show up in other Headcanons 😉

Also whether you ship her with Ignis, is up to you. Hehehe. I don’t blame you tho.

Anyways, I hoped who requested this, liked it 💙💜

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