#a good way to commit an animal to memory is to draw it

[despazito]

a helpful guide

[swordgrace]

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the wake of his burning, aegon’s recovery is marked by rage and insecurities. he pushes you away, but it is your comforting embrace that he desires above all else.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 7.4K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), hurt/comfort, post rook’s rest aegon, aegon isn’t a good person but he’s tormented, unstable marriage, talk of insecurities, wound/scar descriptions, p in v sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, body worship (m & f receiving), lots of kissing & comfort/reassurance, very desperate aegon, begging, sub-ish aegon, reader is on top, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, fingering (fem!rec), soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Aegon, so please be gentle + any feedback/critique on his character is appreciated! He’s quite difficult to write for. Either way, I absolutely loved writing this, and I hope that you all enjoy it, too! As always, thank you for your continued love & support. ❤️

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞. It spread its blazing roots to those cast within it, leaving them hideously scarred or deformed, or perhaps leaving them with nothing left at all.

Grand Maester Orwyle had said that your husband may never walk again — that he may never draw breath again.

The harrowing memory of soot-stained knights hauling your husband in on nothing more than a swath of linen tied to sticks, placing him gently onto your marital bed had haunted you for several weeks since its occurrence. You could recall the pungent scent of charred flesh, the ragged rasps of Aegon’s breathing, the labor and sweat of Maesters working tirelessly to save him.

It was the labored wheeze of his breathing that continued to linger within the recesses of your mind, a sound so hoarse and weak that you wondered if he would survive. Watching your husband become a shell of his former self was never pleasant — you wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even your worst enemy.

Aegon showed a resilience that few thought him capable of — the will to survive, to endure and spite his brother served him well. Even if each breath made him ache and each step had rattled his bones, he continued to progress, showing an astounding level of improvement in a short amount of time.

Fire was the end of all things, but not for him.

The observant gazes of those denizens dwelling within the Red Keep often looked upon Aegon with despair, and perhaps pity — it was a pity that he despised, one that made him quiver with rage. He had been made a cripple by his brother, an undesirable.

No one would want him now — not even you, his resplendent wife, a dutiful creature who had solemnly stood by his side, even after his numerous sins he committed against you. He was burnt and ugly, half of his face marred by a web of scars, ear twisted, silvery hair missing on part of his skull.

It was contempt that fueled him now, and he continued to play the part of a wounded, forgetful dog whenever Aemond was near, but in the sanctity of his chambers, he cursed his brother to whatever Gods would hear him.

If they heard him at all.

With each passing day, Aegon regained strength, yet he used a cane to aid in his unsteady gait. He rarely emerged from his chambers, not wanting to be looked upon as if he were some wounded animal in-need of coddling. Wallowing within his own misfortune became commonplace.

You visited him each day when he was still unconscious, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand within yours, yet Aegon had convinced himself that you no longer loved him. What woman would sensibly love him, after everything he’d done? If you were intelligent, you would dissolve your marriage and find a new lover, cast him into the shadows where he belonged.

Aegon had forbidden you to see him for weeks now, likely out of his own fear of rejection, or seeing the horrified look on your face with his own eyes. Orwyle spoke of your tenderness, how you never left his side when he lay bedridden — he could scarcely fathom it, if he were honest with himself.

The evening was a dour one in King’s Landing, marked by the encroaching threat of war, and supposed riots that had broken out across the city. Aegon sometimes laughed to himself — Aemond never cared about the smallfolk nor their desires, and his former hand had discouraged him from catering to those less fortunate.

It gave him some twinge of satisfaction, knowing that he wasn’t that stupid — not as dull and thick-headed as so many believed him to be. The burden of being King had been forced upon him, even when he never wanted it, and so he had no choice but to simply adapt.

He molded himself to a role that never belonged to him anyway, attempting to fit himself into a puzzle that he was never in to begin with.

Acceptance — he had come to realize that perhaps, unseen forces had tarried and toiled to put him on a Throne that wasn’t his birthright. Even then, Aegon was still the King — but a broken one. Who would ever look to a shattered King for guidance, or to lead them?

Dusk blanketed the city, casting its shadow over the Red Keep, a starless sky — it was instead marked by the black haze of clouds that concealed all, even the moonlight. The Keep itself seemed wrought with tension, one that threatened to snap at any moment.

With Aemond on some warpath, the smallfolk calling for blood, and his own mother dismissed from the Small Council, part of him simply thrived within the chaos, the mess made by his younger brother. It was satisfying to know that even he was not fit to rule — not like he imagined himself to be.

His walk around the corridors had been cut short when he caught a glimpse of Aemond, with Orwyle taking him back to his chambers. Aegon could walk without assistance, yet the distance was never one of any merit.

Much of his unoccupied moments were spent drowning in Dornish Red, or perhaps the most surprising thing of all, reading. He was never the studious child — he preferred merriment and whoremongering over the study of High Valyrian and the histories. Being gnarled like this had forced his hand — perhaps he could still become a learned man.

The Kingsguard he had appointed were gone, sent to join the Night’s Watch or beheaded for insubordination — he had no friends here, nothing left except himself and his mind, still perfectly intact. Now, Aegon intended to sharpen what was left of it, if he could in such a short amount of time.

He spent many of his days in fear — fear of Aemond poisoning his drink or slithering into his chambers like the fanged viper that he was to torment him, or perhaps stick Aegon’s Dagger into his chest. There was time left still for his mad cunt of a brother to finish what he’d started.

As the doors to his chambers rattled, Aegon immediately grabbed the shortsword he kept alongside his cane, breathing becoming strained and heavy. “Who is it?” He barked, palm planted against the sturdy mahogany of his large table.

“The Queen, your Grace.” Ser Belgrave, one of the last decent Kingsguard left in the Red Keep, opened the door just enough for you to see your husband, alive and conscious. He stood watch for a beat, and then closed the doors behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon.

Aegon didn’t know what to say — he was rageful and bitter, and having you here to gawk at him did nothing to quell those feelings. He did admire you from across the room, taking in the plane of cerulean silk you wore, shrouded by a pale robe. Your eyes were indiscernible — he could not tell how you felt from where he sat.

You were, perhaps, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon — and he had seen so many. He recalled when he first saw you in the Grand Sept in your wedding gowns, so shy and saccharine, like the first warmth of springtime. It wasn’t a union he cared for or desired, but duty demanded that he wed you, and you would give him heirs.

So much of his time was wasted in the arms of whores who cared for nothing save the size of his coin purse, when it all should’ve been dedicated to you — the last person who truly cared for him.

“Aegon,” There was not an ounce of reproach within your voice, and instead, it was all a breathy sigh of relief. You had only seen him in-passing, walking alongside Grand Maester Orwyle or Lord Larys Strong. He had not allowed you to see him fully, until now. “I …”

“Save your pity,” Aegon quipped, turning away from you as he turned inward upon his books, instead. Gods, he felt wretched for constantly causing you such agony, but he could not endure the sight of you seeing him. “Have you come to see the withered King?” He mumbled, voice riddled with disdain.

Aegon was not an easy husband — and your union had been fraught with strife, hallmarked by his love of whores and wine, his absence felt by you each and every moment. You had passed this off as reality — this was what marriage was, and you had no choice but to accept it or crack beneath the pressure.

Even now, you were willing to forgive him.

Instead, you gathered your skirts and inched closer, longing to look upon him again with your own eyes. He had always been a beautiful man, so handsome with those regal Targaryen features that it often stole your breath away — and that hadn’t changed.

“I missed you,” You confessed, and it made Aegon’s throat become unbearably thick. Tears stung his eyes, tears born of frustration, an inner hatred and disgust, a disbelief that you truly meant any of this. “I thought that I could stay with you this evening.”

“No,” Aegon retorted, voice trembling at the bottom of his throat as he shook his head. “I do not want you here. I forbid you from seeing me. What part of that do you not understand?” His rage swelled — but not at you. He was so angry with himself that it began to manifest in uncouth ways.

It stung you, but not as much as you thought. Aegon kept you away, pushed you out to arm’s length because he feared what you might think of him. Being beloved and liked by those around him, the desire for attention and adoration, was perhaps one of his greatest flaws. When he could not find validation, it was easy to find it with a whore instead, or in the simpleminded lickspittles.

If Dornish Red could talk, perhaps he would find whatever comfort he sought there, too.

He reached for his goblet of wine, hand unsteady as he held it to his lips, and even then, he looked absolutely pathetic when taking a swig. “I cannot even drink without looking fucking pathetic,” Aegon snarled, letting out a bark of humorless laughter. “I cannot walk without being gazed upon like a wounded animal.”

At last, you began to understand where this anguish came from, where it all manifested. As much as you pitied your husband for the tragedy that had befallen him, you admired his resilience, his desire to endure and push on, even if it was most unpleasant.

“Aegon …” As your soft palm reached to rest against his shoulder, he violently jerked away, recoiling as if it were you that had burned him. “I am here for you. We are still married — allow me to continue to be your wife.” You whispered, flinching when he let out a sardonic laugh.

The scars were everywhere, enveloping half of his body, still aching with a dull pain that he muddied with poultices and Orwyle’s draughts. Aegon refused to take Milk of the Poppy, enduring his agony in different ways, ones that many would consider to be harder.

“Gods, how cunning you are — you play the role of naivety so well,” Aegon hissed, attempting to pull himself up from his table, hand reaching for his cane. “I am burnt, I am disgusting, and I am a cripple. You are not here for me — I do not want your pity!” He growled, voice raising to a tempestuous level.

You did not press him further, but you could see the tears glistening within his lilac hues, spilling down his cheeks as he began to laugh. The sound was grating and hollow, devoid of any amusement — just emptiness. He used what momentum he had to stand, grip ironclad and white-knuckled around his wooden beam of support.

“Why must you continue to push me away, Aegon? Have you not done it enough?” You questioned, voice sharp and wrought with emotion, sentiments that you had been repressing for so long, for the entirety of your marriage. “Must I always justify why I want to be your wife? We are married — I love you.”

Aegon froze, tears spilling over his face, countenance one of complete and utter bewilderment. He could not discern if you were genuine or simply conniving, or if you were being true. You had told him that you loved him before, and he always cast it aside — maybe you had truly meant it all this time, and he was too indifferent to realize it.

His back was partially turned to you, as if warding you away from seeing him. Aegon had been made to think that he was a failure all his life, that he was insignificant, made to do nothing instead of act. Whenever he did act, it was impulsive and reckless, branded acts of stupidity.

Maybe the one thing he could do right was you — mend the divide, mend the bridge that had kept you distanced for so long.

That cold, bitter laughter soon dissipated into what were choked sobs, ones of despair — he had been holding himself together for so long, for the sake of the realm, for the sake of a family that cared so little for him. His body ached and trembled, and as much as he attempted to move away from you, he couldn’t.

The nearest settee happened to be where he fell, landing against the velveteen cushions, head hung in despair, body wracked with sobs. He was undesirable, undeserving of you and your love. He was some withered husk, a shell, a monster still dressing in the clothing of a King — he was nothing.

Yet, you made him feel like something.

Silently, you crossed the cold stone to join him on the settee, sitting at his side as you gingerly let your palm settle against his back. “You underestimate how much I still care for you, husband.” You whispered, caressing along his spine with a feather-light touch.

Aegon felt drawn to you, pulled into the warmth of your comforting fire, knowing that if there was still one person left in this world who cared enough, it was you. Tears stained his visage, leaving behind streaks of red, eyes wet with many left unshed.

“Why should you?” Aegon questioned, his voice beginning to lose the fury and rage it held before, and it was melancholy. Anyone would’ve asked themselves such a question, but you didn’t — you remained steadfast. “I have brought nothing but misery upon you.”

It was complex, his statement — you had been miserable for some time, but this tragedy that afflicted you both was something worth overcoming. You were beginning to see the true Aegon, the one buried beneath the weight of the crown, the weight of inferiority.

“There is still time for forgiveness.” Your words were poignant and soft, and they were enough to move Aegon to tears again. He sat there beside you, crying to himself, breaking down completely. You had never seen him like this before — and perhaps, it was long overdue.

The comfort you provided was one he so desperately sought, even if he felt so guilty. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this, to deserve you — and yet he welcomed the grace of your palm, the sound of your songbird’s voice, soothing him with your gentle smile.

He was ashamed for you to see him this way, a man lacking the strength of physicality, the strength to hold a shortsword. It often wavered within his grasp — he would never be able to protect you. His beloved dragon was left in ruins, recovering in the Dragonpit — everything he had that made him strong had been taken.

Aegon was terrified to look upon you in such close quarters, afraid to feel the bitter jab of rejection, the horror and abhorrence within your gaze as you found his scars. He dared not turn, only keeping the intact side bared to you, still perfectly handsome.

Orwyle had harkened this to some miraculous recovery, a sign that the Gods favored him — Aegon did not feel favored, nor did he feel that he deserved it. Whatever he used to think, that his father wheezed his last breath desiring him on the Iron Throne, was nothing more than a twist of words.

There was nothing miraculous or prophetic about him — he was a sad, drunken cripple left to rot.

As much as he commiserated over his woes and the foul hand dealt to him by his brother, Larys had convinced him to live out of spite — and you convinced him that being alive, even in this wretched state, was a reality that was worth seeking.

He nearly crawled away at the sensation of your fingertips brushing along his jaw, unmarred and unscathed by the garish tangle of scars. Aegon shivered at your embrace — he had gone so terribly long without it, wondering if he would ever feel it again.

“I remember when I saw you for the first time, in the Grand Sept — I thought that you were the most resplendent man that I had ever seen,” You crooned, feeling him nudge his cheek into your palm. You gently swiped away a stray tear beneath his eye. “You still are.”

Aegon scoffed — a bitter, vitriolic sound that made his breath turn hoarse for a moment. He found it incredibly difficult to believe you, to find any merit in what you said given the circumstances. Even if you still loved him, that did not include his horrific appearance.

Tears trickled down his face, ones that you collected with your thumb before he shook his head. “Do not patronize me,” He murmured, visage furrowing together. “You cannot mean any of that. Look at me,” Aegon hissed, only slightly turning towards you. “I am a loathsome creature.”

His misery was an understatement when it came to his appearance — he looked like some monster, gnarled and withered beyond recognition. Whenever he looked into the mirror, he screamed and raged until he fell, or perhaps lost his voice.

Any Targaryen was often regarded as beautiful — pale, platinum tresses and lilac hues, a countenance as regal and as beautiful as a god. He was nothing more than a cockroach, now. He couldn’t fathom that you still desired him in a conventional way.

With a soft, tender touch, your hand then moved to rest against his shoulder. “If there is a loathsome creature here, I do not see it,” You murmured, head canting to one side. “What must I do to convince you, Aegon? Do you not believe me?”

Aegon’s trust had worn so thin that it threatened to snap, threadbare and nonexistent. He could only allow himself to trust so much — everyone he thought he could confide in or rely on had now turned against him, or attempted to slaughter him.

“It is hard to believe anyone anymore.” He murmured, staring down at his hands — one trembled, wreathed in burn scars, and the other clenched into a tight first.

He was made to believe that he was the rightful heir over Rhaenyra, when that was never the case. He was made to believe that he was a good ruler, when his Small Council plotted behind his back without his knowledge. He believed that Aemond was loyal to him, that he loved him as a brother would.

Lilac hues flickered from the void of his chambers to you, peering at you from beneath the curtain of pale tresses that still clung to his head. Despite the accusations of disloyalty he had hurled at you, his mistrust and doubt of your true intentions, you still maintained an amiable gaze.

You stared at him as if he had moved mountains, pulled the stars from the heavens for you — and he realized that no one, besides you, had looked at him in such a way before. It was profound and affectionate, wrought with a palpable adoration that came from a deep-rooted place of good.

Aegon’s throat grew tight, thick with emotion as he drank you in, tracing over the delicate plane of your features, the spark of warmth that brightened your eyes. Such divine beauty that he had robbed himself of for so long — he only felt like a fool, the greatest fool there was.

With an unsteady, quivering hand, he hesitantly reached out to you, unburnt fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath whenever you shuddered, face turning inward to press a kiss against his palm.

“I want to see you, husband.” You whispered, grasping his hand with both of yours, digits oozing with the radiance of heat that blossomed from you. The burn scars were carefully concealed behind silken garments, hidden from sight. Aegon grit his teeth together, not wanting you to see how disfigured he’d become.

“No,” Aegon quipped, shifting away from you with a scornful, wary expression. Whatever handsomeness he possessed before, it had all been burned away, turned to ash — and it left him, this husk of himself, with a physique that was repulsing to behold. “There is nothing pleasant about it — it is rotten.”

Rotten was perhaps a vast exaggeration for his wounds and scars, something that you found to be perplexing. Scars did not bother you, and you wouldn’t let your husband’s insecurities dissuade him from your comfort and care. Still holding his hand, you moved closer, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

Aegon shivered beneath the chaste kiss, wanting nothing more than to collect you into his arms. The gnawing fear of your potential repulsion made him hesitate, and the bitter stab of rejection seemed to dig into him more than anything else.

“What woman would want this?”

Aegon’s forlorn, despondent inquiry hung above the both of you like some dour cloud. His grim outlook was something that you could sympathize with, given that his appearance had been torn apart within an instant. He swallowed the sob building within his chest, violet hues glistening with wet tears.

At last, he looked at you fully, exposing the marred, scarred side of his visage, tangled with a web of textured burns. His eye was sunken in, vessels having broken the white around his iris, ear nearly missing entirely, countenance partially mottled.

It was the same with his body, nearly half of it covered in the same fleshy web, scars spreading out like the roots of a tree. Aegon looked to you with a shattered expression, one that possessed a vehement swell of rage and frustration, yet still retained a sense of desperation. He was desperate to have your approval, for you to tell him that he was still perfect, regardless of his disfigurement.

Without a word, you moved your hand toward the maimed side of his face, expecting him to rip away or recoil entirely. Instead, he stayed there, rooted in-place, shuddering when the softness of your palm cupped his jaw. The pad of your thumb gingerly raked over his cheek, feeling along every scar and rough surface.

“I want you, Aegon,” The soft, silky resonance of your voice had brought him to heel, gaining his subservience, despite his inner battle with his insecurities. He feared being ugly in your eyes, as if his heart weren’t black and decayed enough. “I want you still.” Your lips twitched into an amiable smile.

For a moment, his eyes had fluttered shut, and he soaked in the sensation of your touch, warm and real against his cheek. It felt incredible, something he had craved for so long — it had left a gaping hole within his chest. Any tears that fell, you collected them with your fingertips, swiping them away.

Again, you inched closer, leg-to-leg with him, gaze drifting towards his lips. Aegon did not dissuade you from it, breathing becoming somewhat laborious as you pressed forward, mouth molding against his. It had been a long time since you had kissed him — truly kissed him.

A low, stirring groan reverberated within the depths of his throat, and at last, he reciprocated. Aegon’s kiss was done in a flurry of passion, realizing what he hadn’t had for so long. You tasted saccharine, warm and soft against him, mouth pliant and willing.

Gods, how blind he was — foolish, fragile, moronic.

He had abandoned you for unattainable things, for insignificant people that cared little about his wellbeing. Aegon had you — you, so devoted and loyal and forgiving, even when he deserved none of it. He very nearly sobbed again, knowing what error and sin he’d committed against you, but he shoved it down.

His insecurities seemed so small, as if they were wiped away by the curve of your mouth that so desperately kissed him. Aegon moved his good arm, bringing it to the swell of your hips, feeling your supple physique through the thin silk of your nightgown.

A sweet, simpering moan bubbled within your throat, a sound that so clearly vocalized your desperation for him, your repression and longstanding suffering. “Aegon,” You whispered, sending tremors down his spine as he kissed your jaw. “We don’t have to, we — you’re in pain.” You didn’t want to subject your husband to such agony.

Aegon shook his head, willing to push through the dull aching if it meant that he could have you again. Despite his fractured confidence, you made him feel so strong again, as if he still looked as he had before the burning. “Fuck agony,” He panted, hot breath fanning across your flesh. “I need you.”

That was enough to send a surge of molten heat throughout your belly, thighs rubbing together to alleviate some of your mounting arousal. “To bed, then.” You whispered, and Aegon swore that he moved quicker than normal, as if you had rejuvenated in some mystical way through words alone.

Using his cane to support most of his weight, he sluggishly walked toward your marital bed, feeling you hover around his side. You did not help him, and he didn’t want it, anyway. He was growing stronger by the day, capable of making it to his bed without support.

Fresh linens, silks, and feathered pillows had replaced ones used yesterday. It was all clean, smelling of lavender and honey. As he sat along the edge of the bed, he nearly chuckled at all of this — finally laying with you out of desire, and not duty, looking positively abhorrent.

If only it hadn’t taken him so long to get here.

“Are you certain, Aegon? I do not wish to hurt you, I —” Before you could prattle on about your concerns, Aegon silenced you with a kiss, coaxing you down by his side. His lips remained unblemished and unburnt, the taste of Dornish Red and sugar permeating his tongue.

“You won’t,” Aegon uttered, lilac hues raking over you, hungry and rapturous. “And if you do, you will not stop until I tell you to.” His tone retained a sternness to it, one that pleaded with you to allow him to drown in your affections, just like he always wanted.

With a gentle nod of your head, Aegon pushed your tresses away from your neck, thumb caressing along the column of your throat before he pressed a kiss there. You scarcely recalled the last time he’d done something like this, but you weren’t about to protest.

He wanted to hear your sighs and sweet whimpers, the sound of his name, breathy from your tongue. Aegon did not have the stamina he used to, but he would rather damn himself instead of stopping so quickly. He kissed and bit at your neck, soothing each mark with the languid lap of his tongue.

Gods, that sound — Aegon delighted in listening to your soft, wanton moan, pearlescent teeth nipping at your sensitive skin, kissing wherever he could reach. His burnt hand trembled, the flesh tender and still pulsating with a dull ache, but he elected to ignore it as best as he could.

Your hand pressed against his unmarred thigh, gripping into the flesh there as he groaned against you. He had finally gotten rid of that horrid, lengthy nightshirt, back to linen trousers and a silken, emerald tunic. His growing erection wasn’t subtle in the slightest.

“Let me see you.” Aegon murmured, wanting to look upon you with renewed eyes. You had always been beautiful to him, but now, you were captivating — a goddess incarnate, come to grace him with your presence. He watched as you stood, unraveling your robe as you draped it across the foot of the bed.

His mouth became dry, desire swelling within him like the urgent crash of a tidal wave. Aegon’s violet gaze remained transfixed, unable to tear themselves away from you and your perfection.

You stood in between his legs, shedding the thin, sheer gossamer of your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet before you nudged it aside. The last time you had undressed for Aegon, he was drunk and needy, several months ago.

His intoxication was of a different sort now, drunk upon your resplendence, your beauty, living and breathing before him. Aegon gripped your hip with his good hand, learning forward to press kisses all along your abdomen and stomach.

The sensation of your hand, so gentle and sweet, slipped against his marred cheek, gingerly caressing over his uneven web of scars, encapsulating over half of his skull. Aegon nearly groaned at your heavenly touch, the touch of a wife who loved her husband, scars and all.

He did not feel so monstrous anymore.

Aegon turned to press a kiss against the inside of your wrist, savoring the feeling of your fingertips roving across his scars. It was only when you moved to kiss the top of his head that he nearly faltered, breath warbled and wavering, surprise settling into his features.

He moved back, countenance twitching with pain for a fleeting moment, finding comfort within the silken duvet and soft sheets of your shared bed. You nearly moved to sit beside him again, but he stopped you, swallowing the growing lump within his throat.

“No,” Aegon whispered, tone a low, husky resonance, strung out with desire as he coaxed you into his lap with certainty. “Come here.” Those lilac hues were blown-out with lust and bewilderment, enthralled by you as he felt you settle down against him, thighs firmly caging him in on either side.

A grunt stirred within his chest, a dull throbbing pulsating throughout his body, but he persisted, feeling your plush form sit right in his lap. His good arm stroked along your spine and hip, faces mere breaths apart, and he kissed you with a blinding fervor.

Aegon never kissed you like this — not until now.

Whatever sentiments you felt for him, the ones that drove you to complete devotion, began to resurface — you still loved him fiercely, despite everything. “Will you allow me to see you, too?” You whispered against his mouth, digits dancing toward the hem of his tunic.

A beat of hesitation passed through your husband, who almost seemed to revert to his reclusive state. His jaw became tense, an inner war raging within him as he contemplated letting you disrobe him. Aegon looked at you, torn yet wanting, tugging you closer.

You gave him time to deliberate, not wanting to push him into something that he wasn’t prepared for. As if to soothe him, your fingertips traced along his brow line, and into the tangle of scars. “If you do not, I will understand, husband. It will not make me love you any less.”

That alone made him want to remove his tunic.

Aegon tilted forward, burying his face against your collarbone, mottled flesh textured against your own skin. He felt your palm glide against the nape of his neck, carding your digits through his wisps of pale hair. “It is hideous,” He uttered, insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t dare subject you to it.”

“Aegon,” The tenderness of your tone seemed to grab his attention rather swiftly, lilac hues drifting up toward your visage, perfect and comely. “It is all you — every scar and every imperfection, and I will love it all the same. My desires haven’t changed.”

His breath hitched within his throat, eyes swimming with an amalgamation of emotions, some of them too overwhelming to fully comprehend. He had sorely missed your embrace, and to further deprive himself of it seemed like an unimaginable torture.

You wanted him to take his time, neck craning as you peppered your lips against his throat — the burnt side, flesh marred and uneven, the sensation akin to a leathery surface. Aegon exhaled, gripping you tighter as he reveled in the feeling of your mouth.

It was he who initiated the removal of his tunic, attempting to pry it away and over his head, but he struggled, a low groan escaping him. Aegon wanted to feel independent, to do something himself, but he relented, accepting your assistance.

Removing the garment felt like an eternity, born out of his own nervousness and crippling insecurity of you seeing him this way, marred and mottled. Only half of him was covered in that tangled, leathery web of scars, spiraling down his entire physique.

Hovering your palm above his chest, Aegon’s lilac gaze silently pleaded with you to touch him, grace him with the touch of your resplendence. The scars were rough and uneven, innumerable and etched into his flesh like a blanket of leather.

Yet, you did not recoil or shy away, tracing patterns over his skin, pressing your sweet kisses wherever you could reach. Aegon felt his cock twitch and throb with desperation, longing to be inside of you. The tender care you showed him meant more to him than any crass or lewd act did.

You kissed his scarred shoulder, a gesture so comforting and kind that Aegon shuddered from exhilaration. That pattern of soft worship continued, as you kissed his scars again and again, reverence seeping into each grace of your mouth.

“Gods, how divine you are,” Aegon exhaled, quivering hand finally extending just enough to knead against your thigh. The palm that held your hip traced towards the warmth between your legs, and he shivered at the slick arousal there. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You squirmed, cunt aching for him in every way imaginable, hips jolting into the sensation of his practiced digits. Aegon was swift to reward your kindness with quick strokes of his fingers, tracing along your slit before caressing your clit, toying with the sensitive pearl.

The game of waiting was an agonizing one, as he longed to be inside of you, let you feel him again with renewed vigor, drown himself within your love. Aegon groaned when your lips met his, connecting with a thinly-veiled ardor, passionate yet tender.

Agony and pain became a thing of the past — even if his body ached and contorted with a continuous sting, he didn’t care. He wanted to endure for you, savoring each moment, digits greedily stroking away at your cunt in order to warm you up.

Desire made him dizzy, head beginning to spin in a delirium, induced by the growing haze of lust. He couldn’t recall the last time he laid with a woman and truly enjoyed it — but he was enjoying this — he loved your body, and above all else, he loved you.

“I want you inside of me,” You panted, hot breath fanning across the shell of his ear. A shiver cascaded along his spine, prompting him to slow the steady strokes of his digits. “Aegon, please.” With a pleading tone that brought Aegon to heel, he nodded, letting out a grunt of discomfort.

He gently removed you from his lap, but only to readjust, moving himself back against the mound of feathered pillows and cushions. Those violet hues silently observed you, rapturous and starving, like a hound preparing to devour its meal as you clamored forward again.

Your hands moved to the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock from its confines, flushed head oozing with tendrils of precum. Aegon wasn’t shy about how aroused he was, how desperately he needed you.

“Sit,” Aegon groaned, hand kneading against your hip, attempting to coax you onto his hardened length. “Please, I — I need you.” You hadn’t heard him beg before, but the sound was husky, timbre strung-out with desire as you crawled back into his lap.

As you gently lowered yourself onto his cock, Aegon nearly moaned at the sensation, head rolling back against the pillows as you sank down completely. He couldn’t move like he used to, guide you along or assist, but he did squeeze your hip, caressing all along your side.

Depriving himself of you for so long was perhaps one of the greatest faults he’d ever made, filling him with a wave of guilt. He could not make up for it anymore, properly ravage you in the way that you deserved, but he hoped that this was a start.

Everything began to ache with more of an intensity, a dull throbbing sinking into his bones, but he relented. Aegon would not deny himself, and he would not deny you, above all else. A myriad of throaty groans escaped him as you began to move, hips rocking forward, disarmingly gentle and sluggish.

You did not go quickly at all, each movement slow and steady, thighs stinging from exertion. Slowly, you reached for his hand, the one that had stayed closer to his chest, longing to hold it, if he was able. Aegon’s breath hitched when you did, gently twining his fingers with your own as you rode him.

His cock filled you perfectly, filling a void within you that had been left half-empty for so long. At last, you had your husband again — the one that you yearned for since your wedding day. With gentle gyrations, you moved yourself up and down along his length, continuing your sluggish rhythm.

The palm that cupped your hip and thigh soon slithered toward the apex of between your legs, hoping to stimulate you just as you did him. Your moans, breathy and high-pitched, filled your chambers, noises that he had been longing to hear.

The full, lovely swell of your breasts bounced gently atop your chest as you continued your ministrations, repeating the monotonous motion of rocking along his cock. Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, and it quickly spread to your loins when Aegon’s thumb caressed the pearl of your cunt.

He wasn’t going to last much longer in this state, cock throbbing with tendrils of precum that released themselves inside of you. The way in which you milked him, moved agonizingly slow, allowing him to feel your cunt tighten around him — it was nearly overwhelming.

Your cunt clenched pathetically, snug around his length as you continued to ride him, his cock bottoming out within you. It was a perfect storm of sensations, between the fervent circles he traced into your clit coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, you knew that your release was near and inevitable.

A breathy sigh of ‘fuck’ emerged from Aegon’s mouth, countenance contorted into a look of complete and utter ecstasy. “Gods, do not stop,” Aegon commanded through wanton groans, hips desperately wanting to buck up inside of you, but the pain was becoming too great. “Please.” He pleaded.

Everything felt so raw and sensitive, nerves set ablaze, arousal gripping him tightly as you continued to ride his cock, ensuring that you were still incredibly gentle. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you move, cautious and mindful of him, lips agape and visage one of sheer bliss.

The delight you felt was immense, holding onto Aegon’s hand, wanting to grind yourself into his thumb. “Aegon,” You moaned, looking down upon him with reverence and awe, no inkling of disgust to be found — it was ardor and want, all tangled into one. “I—I’m close!” Your whine made him want to tear you apart.

It only took one more roll of your hips for him to fall apart, in shambles beneath you, hot ropes of virile seed filling your womb with desperation. Aegon saw stars from the intensity of his release, nearly collapsing in the aftermath of it all.

His breathing quickened, hoarse and labored as you tilted your hips forward, finding a much-needed friction as he caressed your clit even still. Watching you reach your release with his own eyes was a captivating sight, mesmerizing to behold as you shuddered, trembling and aching with relief.

He huffed, attempting to recuperate as you stayed in his lap for a moment longer, slick with your nectar and his own spent, its sheen coating the inside of your thighs. You removed yourself from him to give him some reprieve, stepping away to clean yourself up and retrieve your nightgown.

Aegon’s visage became one of immediate concern as he watched you move away, worried that he had offended you. “Where — Are you not staying?” He questioned, hastily maneuvering his breeches up around his hips again, doing his best to lace up the leather ties.

Surprised, you stopped near the basin of water sitting along the vanity, head canting to one side. “I intended on staying with you, unless you do not want me to.” You replied, sliding the silken garment back on after having taken a swatch of cloth to the warmth between your thighs.

“I want you,” Aegon’s tone had become a rather desperate resonance, as if imploring you to stay even when there wasn’t a need for him to do so. “I want you to stay.” He uttered, lilac hues somewhat shrewd as you approached, helping him put his tunic back on.

“Of course.” With a soothing voice, you pressed a kiss against the scarred side of his scalp, and then to his forehead, helping to ease him back down into bed. The draught left behind by Maester Orwyle assisted with the pain — not nearly as strong as Milk of the Poppy, but it was the best choice.

Taking a swig, Aegon sighed, feeling you climb into bed, curled against the good side of his body. He immediately collected you into his arm, feeling your cheek press into his shoulder. It was the most satisfying feeling in the world, having you by his side again.

“If you are agreeable to it,” Aegon began, tracing patterns into the small of your back, “I wish for you to stay here again, and share my bed.” He didn’t demand anything, nor did he use his title and power to force you into sharing your chambers again.

He would’ve understood if you declined, given everything that had happened between the both of you.

Aegon loathed the thought of being alone again, to return to his reclusive existence of self-deprecation and endless misery when you were still here, living perfection — his beloved wife. He turned his head just enough to kiss your crown, briefly inhaling your floral scent, one that he sorely missed.

“I would like that,” You hummed, comfortable by his side. It was the first time in many moons that Aegon felt almost entirely comfortable again, scars and all. “Know that I love you, Aegon — until my last days.” With a gentle touch, you reached for his marred hand, holding it delicately within your own.

Tears swam within his lilac hues, and he had to squeeze them shut just to alleviate that feeling of sobbing. To hear you say with certainty that you loved him — he knew that he no longer needed to fear the idea of living, not when he had you.

“I love you.” Aegon whispered, barely above a whisper. He held you tightly, cradling you close, grasp innately protective even when danger didn’t hang over your heads.

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he was finally being transparent with himself — with his inner turmoil, with his very existence, and that he loved you too.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not copy/steal my work and claim it as your own. please do not translate my work onto other platforms.

[the-universal-sun]

Sorry this took a bit, tumblr just straight up deleted half of what I had written and I had to have a bit of a cry before I got back into it. But! Thank you so much for the request, I hope you stuck around this long to see it through! I did have fun writing it, these two are so cute and stanley deserves all the care and love in the world! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

With all the Love in the World,

XX

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

"Okay now, Stanley, it's nap time. Go and pick out what book you want me to read to you since we finished the last one. Go on." Ford ushered his brother, who had been little for a better part of the day, towards their little book nook, it's just a small shelf Ford had put up with some books aimed towards young children, Stanley added some fairy lights to make it more fun. Ford did have to admit the lights were a nice touch, making it seem cozy and warm. They just finished reading Charlotte's Web last week, and Lee loved it for all that he cried during it. Ford was worried at first, thinking the book was too much, but once his brother was feeling bigger, he explained how crying did make him feel better, getting all those "icky feelings" out in a way that didn't involve hitting things. He still doesn't quite believe him, but he'll acquiesce for now.

Ford waits patiently, Lee wants to pick his books alone, the tone of the book deciding how he felt, how young he felt, in that moment. It's a good indicator, though he would love to help Lee pick put a book sometimes when he's feeling small, he can't help it, Lee always looks so cute when he's concentrating and trying to make a decision. If he was allowed, Ford would take a million photos of that face, alas, his Little brother is camera shy. A tugging at his sleeve pulls Ford's attention away from his thoughts, Lee holds a book out to Ford, looking down and his feet his face red. Ford commits that face to memory to draw later, he looks so cute. He wants to pinch his cheeks and kiss them. Moses, he's turning into Ma'. Ignoring those thoughts, Ford grabs the book, another small chapter book, and reads the title.

"Oh, Lee. Are you feeling smaller right now, hmm?" Ford asks with a smile, holding the first Winnie the Pooh book in his hands. It's an old one, Stanley picked it out from a thrift store in town, the worn cover reminding him of that nice old woman, the one who made him Poindexter and his quilt. Ford wonders if she may possibly be alive somewhere.

His Lee shyly nods, rocking slightly on his feet and tangling his fingers at the ends of his hair-the mullet had been cut and evened out-the actions tugging at Ford's heart strings. His brother was so cute. He has to draw this when Stanley’s napping. "Well that's okay, Lee. You know I don't mind if you feel smaller today. Do you want to nap on the bed or do you want to make a bed in the living room?" Ford would prefer Stanley wanting to nap in bed, but if his twin really wants to, he'll drag every blanket in the house down stairs and make him a nest.

"Mmm..." Stanley rocks, finger going up to tap at his lips, Ford lets it as long as his brother doesn't start biting at it. After a while, this is a very big decision for his brother to make, Stan points upstairs in the direction of their rooms, wanting to nap in his bed. Ford takes his hand, Stan can be unsteady when he's feeling small, and walks up stairs with him. He makes sure to go slowly, reminding his Lee to hold on to the stair rails so he doesn't fall. "...can do it..." is the only response Stanley gives, pouting all the while as he holds the railing with one hand and Ford's in the other. They slowly make their way to Stanley’s room, turning the lights on to reveal his bed, outfitted with his favorite teddy bear quilt and his beloved Poindexter. Ford still can't get over how...complicated he feels knowing his brother named his stuffed animal after him and how deeply he's cherished it for a decade now.

"Come on, Lee, up up in bed, I'll tuck you in." Ford pulls back the comforter and quilt, helping Stan up and settled in bed, one time Stanley slipped off the bed when he was feeling small and Ford's panic about his tears caused even more crying-it was a rough day. “Let’s get you all nice and tightly tucked in, Lee. Right, bud? As snug as a bug.” It took Ford a while to get used to this childish talk, he’s still embarrassed by it sometimes, but Stanley loves it. It’s starting to come more naturally to him as he keeps talking in this manner.

“...’n a rug?” Lee asks, chewing on his finger. Which Ford swiftly replaces with a rabbit pacifier he has laying on the bedside table; not Lee’s favorite but Ford thinks it’s rather cute. His brother’s hands are already torn up, and he’d hate for them to get worse before he finishes perfecting and experimenting with his healing salve. It’s main purpose is to reduce inflammation and scarification on the first two layers of the skin initially, with more permanent healing taking place after being used consecutively for several days-

“As snug as a bug in a rug, Lee.” Ford cuts himself off. This is no time to be thinking about his projects, not with his Little brother in front of him. Stan is what, who, his focus needs to be on. He leans down and presses a kiss onto his brother’s forehead as he starts to meticulously tuck in the covers.

“...’n Poindexter?”His brother asks around the pacifier. Stan holds his ragged teddy bear up, as if presenting the toy for inspection. But Ford knows what his brother is really asking for. He presses a loud and overdone kiss on the plush’s head, biting back a smile at the giggling bursting forth from his brother. He needs to keep his brother calm or else he’ll never nap. He’s just too cute though. 

“Yes, of course I’ll tuck your friend in with you, Lee. Nice and snug as a bug.” He tucks the toy in his brother’s arms, pulling the beloved quilt up, covering the two of them and tightly tucking the corners in. Ford smoothes back his brothers hair, it's grown out a bit from that rather horrendous mullet he had all those months ago.

“In a rug!” Lee giggled, kicking his feet beneath the blankets. Ford bit back a coo, his brother hearing that would be way too embarrassing for him. He sat next to his brother, bundled and tucked in tightly with his quilt, and opened the story book Lee picked out.

“Are you ready for your story? Or do you need to get more situated first, Lee?” Ford asked, looking over to his brother. His brother who was clutching his bear and staring up at him. Staring as if he had hung the moon. Moses, Ford cleared his throat, his heart is going to give out on him one of these days from how sweet his brother looks. “Story time it is, then.” Ford turned to the first page-

“Voices.” Ah, of course.

“Yes, Lee, I’ll do the voices, too.” He turns back to the first page of the book, face red at the thought of even attempting to do Winnie the Pooh’s voice. Stan really has him wrapped around his finger.

Ford wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ukiyowi]

Channelled Messages 💌

Channelling messages from your: Future Spouse, Closest Friends, Spirit Guides, and Future Self

Note: Please DM me if you want a reading I am going to be putting a discount on all my readings because I am in a rough spot financially and need to pay money for my room which I was not aware of earlier and could be kicked out if I don't at the earliest. Book a reading || Tip me! (Ko-fi)

♡ Future Spouse

♡ Closest Friends

♡ Spirit Guides

♡ Future Self

Future Spouse

💌 Pile 1

My Love,

I imagine us walking hand in hand through the seasons of life, supporting each other through every victory and challenge. Together, we will create a collage of memories, painting the canvas of our shared life with love, laughter, and endless adventures.

I promise to be your biggest cheerleader, your confidant in times of doubt, and your unwavering support through thick and thin. I vow to cherish and respect you for the unique individual that you are, appreciating both your strengths and your vulnerabilities.

You are scarred right now but theres no reason to be. You are so filled with love and light and everything good, just because someone else cannot see it does not mean it doesnt exist. If I could bring you the moon and the stars I would in an instant. I don't think there has ever been or will ever be someone who is as bright as you.

Please take care of your health, you cannot make excuses for bad habits and keep living life like that, no matter how stressful work or life is please make time for yourself. We still have a while to meet so take care of yourself for both you and I.

Song: It's a Shame - The Spinners

💌 Pile 2

Hey Darling,

Our connection, I believe, will be deeper than words can express. It will be built on trust, respect, and a genuine desire to see each other flourish. While I can't predict the future, I am steadfast in my commitment to cherishing every moment we have together.

We have met before, I don't think you remember me, but I do. your beauty had me stunned and so did your mannerisms. I admire the way you carry yourself, with so much dignity and poise, as if the personification of grace itself were standing in front of me, sweeping me off of my feet.

I will shower you with anything you want, praise, adoration, gifts, love, time, energy, and be there whenever you need. Life is probably fun for you right now, unfortunately for me the road is a little rocky. Enjoy this time with your friends and family, your loved ones truly care about you and want what's best for you even if they can't articulate it well.

Stay strong butterflly and look for me in your dreams, I promise to be a frequent visitor. hope you likfe sunflowers, lillies, and magnolias angel.

Song: Mango bananas - Flyana Boss

💌 Pile 3

Hi sweetheart!!

I have a feeling that when we finally meet, there's going to be a bell that rings making us instantly know like it did in Your Name, also hope you like animation because I love it, I also really like drawing and art, do you? Please say yes!

Life seems to be going too fast for you right now so you need to make sure that you don't lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Calm down and do things you enjoy, maybe you'll like pottery!

But beyond the laughter and silliness, I want you to know that I'm dead serious about creating a remarkable life together. We'll support each other's dreams, even if they involve opening a cat cafe or becoming professional trampoline testers (hey, it's a thing, right?). We'll navigate the ups and downs of life hand in hand, and I promise to be your rock when you need it most.

Song: Glue Song - beabadoobee

xoxo

Closest Friends

💌 Pile 1

Life has been quite the rollercoaster lately, filled with its usual ups and downs. I've had my fair share of challenges, but there have also been some incredible moments that I wish I could have shared with you in person.

I often find myself reminiscing about the good old days when we used to spend hours talking and laughing about anything and everything . Those memories are some of my most cherished, and I truly miss you.

Please know that no matter where life takes us or how much time passes, you will always hold a special place in my heart. Your friendship has been a source of strength, laughter, and endless support, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

Let's make a promise to catch up soon, whether it's over a cup of coffee or a long, heartfelt phone call. I genuinely look forward to hearing how you've been and sharing all the stories we've missed out on.

With love,

Initials may include: R, P, W, Q, L

Song: Window - Still Woozy

💌 Pile 2

Leaving behind the place we've called home for so long is both exciting and bittersweet. While new opportunities wait and adventures call, it's hard not to feel a tinge of sadness at the thought of being farther away from you.

Although physical distance may separate us, please know that you will always hold a special place in my life. Our bond is not defined by geography but by the strong connection we share.

And the internet exists so we'll be fine right? You promise to not lose touch with me even when we're both busy? I promise I will remember to call you, if not daily then weekly, please don't forget me.

I wish you could join me and we could embark on this together but life has its ways of separating the best people we've met so that we are forced to widen our horizons and social circles lol, hope it's not too much for either you or me.

Will miss you,

Initials pulled: A, J, M, S, K

Song: Missin something - Zach Templar

💌 Pile 3

I love the days we've shared and I wish to share so many more with you in the future, god I am so so so excited for everything thats to come!

Do you remember that time we decided to go on that impromptu road trip? No plans, no GPS, just a car full of snacks, good music, and an unshakable belief that we'd find our way eventually. We got lost more times than I can count, but it was so much fun and truly unforgettable.

And how about those late-night conversations that somehow turned into early-morning confessions? We've solved the world's problems over a cup of lukewarm coffee more times than I can recall. The neighbors must have wondered if we were running a 24-hour café.

As I sit here reminiscing about these and countless other memories, I can't help but smile. Our friendship has been a rollercoaster of laughter, silliness, and genuine connection. And I wouldn't trade a single moment of it for anything in the world.

Sending you a virtual high-five and a whole lot of fond memories, here's to hundreds more, and don't forget about the promise we made about the weddings okay?

Your platonic soulmate,

Initials may include: G, H, B, L, T

Song: Right Here, For Now - Bakar

xoxo

Spirit Guides

💌 Pile 1

Embrace change with an open heart and a curious mind. Life is a series of shifts and transitions, and it's in these moments of change that growth and self-discovery thrive. Trust in your ability to adapt and evolve, for you possess the resilience needed to navigate uncharted waters.

As you progress in your career, always remember that your passion and purpose are the compass that should guide you. Pursue work that aligns with your values and fulfills your soul. Don't be afraid to explore different paths and take calculated risks. Each experience contributes to your growth and wisdom.

Learning is a lifelong journey, and each lesson learned is a stepping stone to your personal and professional development. Stay committed to your goals, and never underestimate the power of continued learning.

There may be moments of doubt or uncertainty along the way, but listen to your heart's desires and the quiet whispers of your soul, for they will guide you toward your true purpose.

Above all, be patient and compassionate with yourself. Success is not defined by a straight path but by the lessons learned along the way. Embrace each setback as an opportunity to grow stronger and wiser.

Song: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift

💌 Pile 2

In matters of the heart, we see the longing in your soul for a deep and meaningful connection. First and foremost, we urge you to be patient with yourself. Love is a delicate dance, and it often takes time to find the right partner who truly understands and appreciates you.

As you seek love, remember the importance of self-love. Nurture your own well-being, both physically and emotionally. Don't be insecure about your quirks and imperfections, for they are the qualities that make you beautifully you. When you love yourself wholeheartedly, you become a magnet for the love you desire.

When it comes to romantic relationships, let go of preconceived notions and allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised. Love can appear in unexpected places and forms. Stay open to meeting new people and exploring connections that may not fit your usual "type." Sometimes, the greatest love stories are the ones that defy expectations.

Communication is the foundation of any healthy relationship. Be brave in expressing your feelings, needs, and desires. Equally important, listen to your partner with an open heart. True intimacy is born from understanding and genuine connection.

Whoever, you're thinking of, is not the one, set the standards high and do not settle for something that does not align with what you can give as well.

Song: Scared - Jeremy Zucker

💌 Pile 3

Know that you are never alone. We are always by your side, watching over you, and guiding you in subtle ways. We see your potential and your inner light, and we are here to help you recognize and nurture these gifts.

Trust in your intuition, for it is the voice of your soul and the channel through which we communicate with you. In times of uncertainty, turn inward and listen to the whispers of your heart, for they will lead you toward your true path.

Embrace the lessons that life presents, for they are opportunities for growth and self-discovery. Challenges are not obstacles but stepping stones on your journey to becoming the best version of yourself.

Surround yourself with positive influences and kindred spirits who uplift and support your journey. Let go of relationships that drain your energy and hinder your growth. Create a circle of love and support that nurtures your soul.

Find joy in the simple pleasures of life. Take time to savor a cup of tea, watch a sunrise, or feel the grass beneath your feet. These moments of presence are where true happiness resides.

Song: July - Noah Cyrus

xoxo

Future Self

💌 Pile 1

Darling, I cannot even start to tell you how good life is right now for me, and eventually for you. I know you are currently going through a rough patch, and as cliche as this sounds, I want you to know that every storm you're weathering now is bringing you closer to the sunshine that awaits you.

In my time, I've seen how the challenges you're facing today have shaped you into the resilient, compassionate, and wise person I've become. The setbacks you're experiencing are not roadblocks; they are stepping stones leading you to the life you've always dreamed of.

You may feel lost, uncertain, and at times overwhelmed, but trust me, these moments are your greatest teachers. They are guiding you towards a deeper understanding of yourself, your purpose, and the incredible strength that lies within you.

One day, you will look back on this period of your life and realize that it was a transformative journey, a cocoon in which you underwent a profound metamorphosis. You'll emerge from it stronger, wiser, and more in tune with your inner self.

The relationships you're nurturing now, the lessons you're learning, and the self-care you're embracing will all become pillars of the beautiful life that awaits you. You'll find yourself surrounded by a supportive and loving community that cherishes you for exactly who you are.

Song: See you Again - Tyler, The Creator

💌 Pile 2

I am sorry, but things are not going the way you would have hoped they would. However, rejection is just redirection, okay? Although things are looking rough for me right now, which, for you, is in the future, I want you to know that this tough phase will lead you to a place of strength and growth.

Life can be incredibly challenging at times, and I wish I could spare you from some of the hardships I'm currently facing. But remember, every setback, every disappointment, is an opportunity for growth and learning. It's through these tough moments that we discover our resilience and develop the wisdom to make better choices in the future.

I want you to hold onto hope, even when it feels like all hope is lost. Believe in yourself and your ability to overcome adversity. Surround yourself with supportive friends and loved ones who will help you weather the storm.

Stay patient and kind to yourself. It's easy to be critical during challenging times, but self-compassion is crucial. Treat yourself with the same love and understanding that you offer to others.

I am working on something thats a dream of ours right now, and I am seeing signs that it may end up succeeding soon or at least kick off, and I still love designing and art as much as you do right now, although I barely have time for myself right now.

Song: Not in that way - Sam Smith

💌 Pile 3

Okay, so maybeee we should reel it in a little with how much you are overworking yourself because it is having a bad effect on me, aka future you. Yep, I'm here to tell you that all those late nights, skipped meals, and stress-induced hair-pulling moments are not doing us any favors down the line.

I get it, you're hustling, chasing dreams, and making things happen in the here and now, and that's commendable. But trust me, I've been there, done that, and I can assure you that I'd appreciate a little less burnout and a lot more balance in our past.

You see, life isn't just about reaching goals; it's about enjoying the journey too. So, let's make a pact to take breaks, breathe deeply, and relish the simple pleasures. Remember, it's not all about the destination; the detours and pit stops are just as important.

And don't worry, I'm not trying to cramp your style here; I just want us to have the best possible adventures together, full of energy, laughter, and great stories. So, let's find that sweet spot where hard work meets self-care, and where the future "us" can look back and be happy about the past "you" for making wise choices.

Also please stop pulling all nighters its not doing any wonders for our skin, and even an extensive 10 step skincare routine does not do as much as a good nights sleep can.

Song: While we're yound - Jhene Aiko

xoxo

[invega-sustenna]

Okay, so drabbles are one thing, but this is my first time writing smut, so be easy on me.

+18 MDNI

ii × female reader

P in V, unprotected (please only do this if you're trying), degradation, use of one singular BDSM apparatus, possessive sex, marking, a hint of praise kink if you really, really squint.

Big thanks to @365granitegirlx for proofreading this catastrophe <3

It was already November, the tour was starting, and ii was adamant that he leave with a memory to jerk it to. You always did like doggy style, so how could you deny your throbbing cunt and the smoldering Dom look in ii's eyes? ii didn't even wait to lead you up to your plush bed. He whined that he couldn't wait any longer and that he needed you now. He dragged you to the first room without windows and instructed you to strip. Your cheek pressed against the tiling, while your pussy was presented in the chilly kitchen air. As he gently placed ankle and ankle, wrist and wrist in the restraints connected to the spreader bar he brought home that he said he'd bought specifically for your pleasure, his coos and soft caresses turned into a harsh smack on your bottom. With a strong grip and twist of your hair, and with a force he had never used on you, he smashed your face into the kitchen tile as he yanked his joggers down. “You're gonna be a good slut, yeah? Just my little slut this time? I heard you were making eyes at the crew.” Before you could protest your innocence, you felt his cockhead glide ever so slowly between your folds as he breathlessly chuckled. Your juices were already running down your inner thighs and there was no way of hiding it. “So desperate to be fucked, love? I bet anyone would do.” ii stilled as a horrifying thought crossed his mind. “Don't bother visiting me while I'm on tour. Don't you dare, you fucking whore. You'll just end up fucking one of my bandmates. You'd fucking love that, wouldn't you, you fucking community cocksleeve!” Without further warning, ii thrust into your unprepared pussy. You shrieked as he laughed. “As long as I have you first, they can have my sloppy seconds,” he murmured darkly as he kept a pace of slowly drawing himself out of your already abused cunt, then gripping your hips hard enough to draw blood in crescent moons as he slammed himself back in. You mewled, you whined, and you panted every time he took a moment to bring himself back from the brink of filling up your pussy, once he found a steady rhythm of barely rubbing up against your G-spot to tease you; to make you pay for crimes you hadn't committed, it mostly just made you moan his name mixed with, “Don't stop, please don't fucking stop. Fuck, ii. Please.” 

No matter what mood ii was ever in, he was a sucker for your pleas. “Whatever my slut desires,” he whispered as he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to the small of your back. ii didn't even need to leave that position to have you screaming his name as he rut into you like a wild animal. 

“Say it. Say it, kitten. Who do you belong to? Hmm?” Your head was pulled back this time by the same grip and twist of ii's hand while the other was wrapped around your throat, making you lightheaded and euphoric. A triumphant smirk plastered his face and he felt your cunt clench around his twitching cock. He slowed his thrusts. Even though he had slowed, looking at you in your fucked out state had him ready to blow. Your eyes glazed over with tears streaming down, how red and swollen your cheek was after being smashed against the marble and grout, and how throughout all of it, your hands had done nothing but reach for him, had his cock throbbing. It wouldn't be much longer. 

“Yours, Daddy. All yours.” Came a shaky voice barely above a whisper. ii shuddered and let out an involuntary groan. He didn't know how much longer he could stave off his orgasm, but he was certain he was giving his good girl one with him.

“Say it again, love.” He resumed his relentless pace, keeping one hand clutching your hip while the other snaked under you to rub messy circles on your sensitive nub. ii was no longer looking to punish, he just needed two things: he needed to hear those words from you again, and fuck, was he going to do his best to have you writhing on the floor; making a mess with him. 

“Say it!” ii jammed himself against your G-spot mercilessly, and you felt like all you could do was scream and cry in bliss.

“You, ii. Jus’ you. Always. Jus’ love you.”

ii sighed in relief. “Good girl.” 

White heat struck your core at the sound of his words of endearment as you chanted his name along with ramblings of I love you's as you fell apart. ii had withdrawn his cock and was pumping himself slowly, unwilling to cum until he watched you break before him, but when he knew he could no longer hold back he lunged forward. 

Mimicking your position above you except with his one hand planted on the ground with a fistful of your hair, yanking your head to the side, and the other stroking his cock. “Mine.” You had one second to feel him spasm above you and something hot and sticky being spurt on your back before you felt his teeth sink into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. The sounds you both released were nothing short of guttural. ii wanted nothing more than to continue to bite, suck, lick, and nibble his claim on you, but his body said otherwise and he had two seconds before he collapsed upon you instead of the floor beside you. Pants and sighs of satisfaction were all that filled the air. When he finally had the guts to look you in the eye, there was nothing but love. Both of you wore soft, worn out smiles. “I love you, and I'm sor-” 

“How about you unlock me and make it up to me by running me a lavender and calendula bath and then cuddles until we fall asleep, yeah?” 

ii chuckled, “Do I get to kiss you?” 

“Depends on how well you cuddle.”

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Beel and mc first date short fic ✨

Our sweet boy Beel deserves all the love <3 Let's gooooo!

Characters: Beel x MC Sharing food as a love language, pure fluff. Did first kiss too, I hope that's okay! No warnings apply

This was a joke, right?  

You were seeing things. You had to be seeing things. 

There was in no way in all the three realms that Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony and Ruler of the Underworld, had just placed half of his gigadeath burger on your plate.  

Half. 0.5. ½.  

You weren’t sure his stomach could handle such deprivation! He was a growing demon! He needed his nutrients! 

“What?” Beel paused his chewing, burger grease dripping down his fingers and onto the checkered parchment paper on the tray before him. “You’re not hungry?” 

Eyes flitting from the burger - the frankly delicious burger oozing premium molten mozzarella, the cheese mingling with the juice pooling from the sizzling meat patty - to his concerned gaze, you wiped the drool from the corner of your lip and shook your head. “It’s not that. It’s just… Don’t you want your whole burger?” 

It was cute, the way he cocked his head to the side. His fiery hair fell into his eyes for a moment, his slow blink drawing your attention to his dark eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest when he lifted his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “I want you to try it. It’s really good.”

“Are you sure?” Your devil nuggets called your name from their carton next to your soda. They were tasty, sure, but that burger looked like something else.

“Yeah,” He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you think we were only coming here tonight?”

The taste flooding your tongue - savory and salty with a crunch from the fixings cradled between two soft buns - was so overwhelming, you didn’t register his words. You were too busy relishing in the richness of the burger as it traveled down your throat and to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It didn’t even bother you that the patty was probably made from some weird Devildom animal that you would usually find unappetizing. The burger was too good to care.

Realization struck you like lightning from above. “Wait, what?”

It was not lost on you how Beel’s indigo gaze traced the tip of your tongue as you licked at the residual taste on your lips. Something unreadable lanced through his irises. Suddenly, it was awfully hard to meet his eyes, your heart firmly lodging itself in your throat. 

Lazily nibbling on his last acidic hell fry, he suggested, “Want to have a campfire?”

“A campfire?” You echoed, ducking your head when you became self-conscious of your dumb expression.

His mind made up, he toweled off his greasy fingers and stood, the stool screeching against the wooden floors of Hell’s Kitchen. “Yeah,” Determination as sharp as his jaw set his brow into a deep furrow. “Come with me.”

Keeping up with Beelzebub on the hunt for food was easier than you had expected. Looming over most demons, his long legs gave him the ability to cover impressive distance with each step. However, you found it wasn’t difficult to wander the streets of the Devildom at his side. Maybe it was the way he moved slowly, with intention, as if he was trying to commit every second of this night to his memory. Maybe it was his big heart, always so considerate of those he cared about. 

Maybe he was looking out for you, just as you always looked out for him. There was a reason you kept snacks on your person at all times, after all. 

It had come as a surprise when Beel had requested your attendance for an impromptu dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. You had been drowning in homework, the sharp knock on your bedroom door startling you from your third attempt to actually absorb the words on the page in front of you. 

“Hey, dinner tonight?” He had asked, so casually as if it was any other day.

“Sure,” You had smiled.

“Cool,” He had beamed that dazzling Beelzebub grin that stretched wide across his face. The one where you could count all of his sharp teeth. The one that creased his eyes into crescent moons and made your stomach twist into a pretzel. “It’s a date.”

You were pretty sure it had taken you at least five minutes to process the bomb he had dropped on you upon his exit. Another fifteen to find a suitable outfit - casual and comfortable, but also nice, you know? And you couldn’t possibly discount the solid forty minutes spent worrying over whether he was joking or being serious. 

When he had met you in the entrance hall clad in his best jeans and a flattering, nice sweater, you felt the relief inflate your chest like a helium balloon. 

And really, you still felt like you were walking on air. Even as you stood in the snacks aisle of a Devildom bodega, shying away from the unflattering glare of overhead fluorescent lights as Beel rifled through foil packaging with an intensity that you long learned accompanied his hunger. 

He fought you tooth and nail at the register, amusement dancing upon his lips. “Why should you pay?”

“Because you bought dinner,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as if it would possibly make you more intimidating in the eyes of the 6’4” demon. 

“Hmmm,” he mulled over your argument for a millisecond, just to lean down and blow a raspberry in your face. He smirked, “Nope.”

It caught you off guard, your face burning as bright as a screaming tomato. Brattiness was usually Belphie’s expertise. 

Mischief melting into soft affection in his indigo gaze, fixed to you as the bodega clerk processed his payment, he ventured, “What if… you cover our next date?”

You liked the way the tips of his ears flushed, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shot you a sheepish, albeit genuine, smile. 

“I think that would be fair.” A tickle spread across your cheeks, scrunching your nose and burning your skin. 

Though, the heat from your flush had nothing on the warmth of the flames lapping at the inky Devildom sky. The embers shot like fireflies reaching for the stars, the campfire crackling within the confines of the pit, lined by rocks that would dwarf even Beelzebub’s palm. It had come as a surprise when Beel had led you off the beaten path, guiding you to a clearing in a forest not too far from the House of Lamentation. However, the secret fire pit made a lot more sense when he explained that it was typically reserved for stargazing with Belphie. 

“Are those… rice krispie squares?” You asked, the pop of an adhesive seam wafting vanilla your way.

“They’re crackling mallow bars,” Beel corrected, though there was no judgment in his tone. He had this way of introducing you to Devildom cuisine in a manner that felt familiar, like he understood that there were a lot of similarities between the dishes you knew. “They’re made up of marshmallows and these crispy marrow bits that are caramelized and -”

“Do they taste sweet?” You suppressed a grimace at the unappetizing description.

He chucked, the sound oozing reassurance, “Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” As he retrieved two long sticks, splitting into sharp prongs at the tip, nostalgia hit you like a truck. You hummed, “I used to eat something like this all the time when I was little.”

He raised a brow. “You’re still little.”

“Very funny.”

He laughed. Peeling the wrapper from two treats, he secured both on the ends of the sticks. “Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?” 

“I never considered that. They would melt pretty fast, wouldn’t they?”

“You would think so,” He passed you a stick, eyes warm with encouragement and something akin to childlike awe, “But they actually hold up for a while.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Just you and Beel and the chirps of the hell crickets in the undergrowth. It was hard to pay attention to the way the sweet bars darkened, a char climbing up the chunks of… marrow, or whatever… when you could feel Beel’s eyes on you. 

When you met his gaze, he was ready, already pulling the snack from his stick. “Here, try this.”

The marshmallow near compromised, the dessert fell apart in his large hands. Beel’s fingers tangled in sticky sweetness, you gasped in delight as strings of sugar stretched towards you with his gesture. “Oh, it’s so gooey!” 

His smile was so big, so warm, and you had the sudden thought that if you were in Icarus’s shoes, you too would fly too close to the sun. He went to feed you the treat, laughing, “Open wide!”

The explosion of flavor on your tongue - hot and sweet with that smoky campfire accent - had you squirming in delight, a thrilled hum vibrating in your throat. You were grateful that Beel thought to remove your stick from the fire. You were far too occupied with your new favorite snack to notice it about to ignite. 

Beel’s laughter died, his brow furrowing as conflict eclipsed the joy in his gaze. You looked to him, confused. “What?”

Had he always been that close? Had he been watching you with such longing this entire time?

“You’ve got a bit of marshmallow…” His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, eyes zeroing in on your lips. “Can I?”

You nodded. Your mouth was so dry, your pulse in your ears. With his nose nudging yours, you could taste the sweetness of the marshmallow treat on his breath, feel the way you were drawn closer like sticky sugar insistent on holding you together. 

His lips brushed yours - soft and chaste. It was funny how a kiss so gentle could hold so much weight. Featherlight, a tender brush, and yet you felt as though the prints of his lips were engraved on yours forevermore. 

“Mmm, tastes extra good,” he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over your skin, his eyes reading your soul as you leaned in to kiss him again. A peck to his lips, to his nose, to the apples of his cheeks.  

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured, reveling in his proximity, his radiant warmth. 

“Trying all my favorite foods off your lips,” He smiled, the twitch of his lips slotting against yours with such ease. “Think we could try that?”

“Sure,” You laughed, “It’s a date.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

this is low-key a love letter to burgers. My requests are open! Find more info HERE. Banner by @4laurus. Check out her work - and also her Beel.

[silvysartfulness]

Hi. I don't think we've ever communicated before, but a very long time ago when I was still a teenager I searched the internet for Ocarina of Time fanart and found your old site, silvestris.net

I thought your art was beautiful, and printed some of the pictures out to decorate my room with. I read your fanfics about Kopi Rezo, and sought out the Slayers anime to watch it for myself.

A whole heck of a lot of stuff has happened since then, in my life and in the world, but I randomly thought of your old work a few minutes ago, and after clicking through the old site's links found your tumblr just now.

I wanted you to know that your art and writing touched me at a formative period in my life, and that even though a lot of the old gallery is inaccessible now, I can still see some of your drawings in my mind, committed to long term memory.

I never got very good at drawing, though I'll still do it for fun sometimes, but I've been writing fanfiction for a long time now, and if I'm willing to flatter myself I'd say I've gotten fairly decent at it. Even done some original stories.

I wanted you to know, one creator to another, that you inspired me. That you left such an impression that even after all this time I remember you. I tell you this not because I expect you to feel any type of way about some stranger you never met, but because in these times where a lot of artists are wondering what the point even is when their work is so undervalued, that I think it would mean a lot to me if someone ever said words to this effect about the things I've created.

Thank you for adding beauty and wonder to my life. I hope you've been well all these years and found creative fulfillment in your endeavors, and security and happiness in your personal life.

With love, a fan.

I've just been coming back to this message several times over the last few days, rereading it, tearing up a bit, and repeatedly failing to think of a good way to answer.

So in all inadequacy: THANK YOU so much for your kind words, anon!

I am very, very flattered and honoured to have been able to provide inspiration, adding beauty and wonder to a stranger's life. That is the most worthwhile legacy I can imagine leaving as proof of having existed on this earth for a while. 💚

Thank you so much yet again for your kind words, and I wish you all the best of luck with all your creative endeavours in the future!

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loumand (Spoilers)

This was so effed up, wow; I'm FURIOUS with Armand, even though I've been expecting this from him since Season 1. Cuz the ish he said just never lined up right; the most unreliable narrator's been Armand the whole time! Louis' brain is scrambled, but at least he's SINCERE. But THIS mofo has been deliberately LYING since JUMP.

Longest divorce proceedings ever--took 77 years, dang. Armand said it was the night Madeleine was turned--Mr. They Gave Me A Choice. I Chose. But that's a effing lie, too!

Cuz in Ep6, BEFORE Louis even told Armand he was gonna turn Madz, Santiago was busy committing all those "strange crimes reported;" climbing the Eiffel Tower to wake up Lestat, and breaking into cinemas to steal their color film reels for the Trial's projector.

They threw Sam under the bus as if HE wrote effed up Trial script--but THIS was when they actually started writing it--with ARMAND's input & direction.

But I'm jumping ahead.

WTF is going on here?! O_O Is this a human the Theatre keeps around for the plays, zoned out so they stay alive until they're on stage? So Armand's punishment is the shame of having to feed the "cattle"? And HOW MANY nights was Lou in there? :(

Louis was locked up for over a MONTH!? 😨 While Armand just SAT THERE?!

Lou's not screaming from starvation, MORON--he starved himself for YEARS. His DAUGHTER is DEAD.

The frame of Paul is wild--Louis was ready to end it all. U_U He didn't want to be "rescued"--he wanted his baby girl back. "What was left to endure for?"

Man's a consummate actor--everything you're about to see is FAKE.

A "sacrifice" for the "god" Armand serves, eh? (AMC got my guy out here sucking on rocks, omg. XD I hope they taste like chips or popcorn or something.)

Louis CONSTANTLY shushing people on this show, I love it!

LIES. Lou's WAY too good for Armand; I'd've been like SURPRISE! 🔥 "My rage and madness were asleep--" chile. You loved Armand, and thought he'd cared enough to save you, which is why you were able to swallow that weak AF I Could Not Prevent It excuse from a 500 yr old vamp.

Daniel is on the hunt! I LOVE how they're introducing Raglan like he's just some kindly ole assistant/researcher/editor. Honey, you've got a big storm coming! "Reciprocation"--Daniel's a vampire now, so you KNOW Raglan's gonna start cashing in them I-O-Us from Dan! 💀

77 years later.... 😬

200 years is a mighty long time to maintain a relationship built on death threats, power imbalances, and lies.

Lestat was right--even 77 years was a effing miracle--extra time bought at the price of Louis' memories being oh-so-conveniently erased.

THEY rehearsed it--LIE. There Armand goes, deflecting culpability.

Louis sleeping in Claudia's coffin, stop, my feels. U_U

Omfg Armand; of COURSE you don't remember the last thing y'all said to e/o in Paris b4 y'all left Lestat to travel Egypt--but you can "remember" alllll this other bullcrap, eh?

So they've already done Trinity Gate?

BY ALL MEANS. EXPOSE THEM.

Not Sam being in Daftpunk, y'all need to stop IMMEDIATELY. (But now I know wtf was going on in the Season 3 announcement--I was so confused why they were mentioning Sam!)

ARMAND told the coven to let the audience read Claudia's diaries and VIOLATE her body (of work), omfg 😱

Mr Frankenstein disrespected her at EVERY turn!

I could forgive spitting over "Come to Me" and how Loustat met in NOLA, but I draw the line at spitting at adding the animation of Lestat killing that dear sweet racoon! XD

Armand had the NERVE to look away when they bum-rushed Claudia & Louis with the Mind Gift.

"It's their turn to hurt--" ARMAND said he didn't think Louis would love him for 200 years, so he SOLD THEM TF OUT--to DIE.

They were HOBBLING AROUND WITH GASHED ANKLES, LAUGHED at, and stuffed in RAT BOXES! And ARMAND was in on the whole thing!

This is WILD, AMC, y'all are sick for this, but I love it!

Is DANIEL using Armand's "slave name" and abusing him, y'all? HUH? It's all BULLCRAP--Armand's BEEN in control, with all the real power the WHOLE. EFFING. TIME.

EFF what you call him, or whatever kinky ROLES he PLAYS.

ARMAND decides who lives and dies, as THE coven master--eff who's called Maitre!

Armand was gonna let Lou DIE. "He just took credit for it when the opportunity presented itself." Wow.

He let Louis suffer in that crypt for over a MONTH before he FINALLY had a change of hear/conscience and pulled him out!

And even then he wasn't gonna go WITH Louis--he expected Louis to flee Paris! ALONE.

He stayed with Louis cuz Louis destroyed his whole effing coven! Who else did Armand HAVE but Louis after that? HE CHOSE THE COVEN.

Poor dear; he wasn't held enough between ritualistic fledgling executions. 🙄😒 "We are teachers of one another! Louis, everything that gives you happiness gives me...." WHAT? What does it give you, Armand? (I cannot WAIT for S3 to do more DM, cuz I've been HATING Armand connected in any way to Louis & Claudia. I don't like not liking Armand; he's my fave book character! But AMC's bound & determined to make me spit every time he starts talking.)

Excellent grounds to get the house, the dog, the Farm, Damek, AND Rashid in the divorce! XD

And this gremlin's got the audacity to STILL be lying, even when caught LITERALLY red-handed with his notes to Santiago in the effing margins--meanwhile CLAUDIA was CONDEMNED TO DEATH for premeditating Lestat's death in HER written diaries--which ARMAND had passed around like candy at his carnival of horrors!

"An insignificant detail delivered by an insignificant mortal"--Rolin must hate Armand, he's not giving this dude an INCH. XD And SAM delivered it, not Daniel. SAM snitched on the coven. (WHEN?! And WHY?)

I don't like the whole "you should fear the other one--" only for Raglan to be like SOS GET OUT OF THERE NOW. Didn't Raglan know Armand was lying his arse off? Or was it misdirection--fear Louis' retribution when he busts a cap in Armand's lying arse?

DanLou nation RISE! ^0^

This was beautiful; I'm so happy for them. They started off TERRIBLY, but look at that bond just blossom like a magnolia tree Armand tried to clip and prune and graft and manipulate--only for it to flourish wild and free!

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

tag game :-)

tagged by @sophieswundergarten . sort of. i did it on my ted lasso blog i hope you dont mind :)

what's the origin of your blog title? i'm going to assume "title" is url and not the like, little header text. it's just a pun because i love trent and puns and also i think he's gorgeous

favorite fandoms : well, currently ted lasso, but the mysterious benedict society continues to hold a special place in my heart

OTP(s) + shipname : uhhh my current top ships are tedependent and roytrent, but nicholas/milligan (tmbs) also of course sneak into my brain and my old beloved malec (shadowhunters tv only not the other version) will always hold a special stubborn little place in my heart. also, the doctor/river. love them so much

favorite color : hmm dark greens with warm undertones, but like, that kind of forest/jewel green not olive/army you know

favorite game : ohhh that's so hard. hollow knight, disco elysium, the legend of zelda: breath of the wild, and pokemon mystery dungeon: explorers of sky are probably the top ones, but i also love bug fables: the everlasting sapling, turnip boy commits tax evasion, goat simulator 3, minecraft, the legend of zelda: phantom hourglass, the legend of zelda: link between worlds, new pokemon snap, pokemon platinum, a short hike, haunt the house: terrortown, and so so many more. i'm a big video games fan. i'm also currently obsessively playing hello kitty island adventure which is fun

song stuck in your head : uhhhh nothing right now but i think the last one was like. maybe "Bad Memories" with MEDUZA, or "SATANIC PANIC" by IDKHOW? Oxford Blood (Autoheart)? I can't remember

weirdest habit/trait? ummmm my whole personality probably. idk man i'm a weird little man i can't think of any particular specific habit other than my lack of filter i guess. uhh i dont like hot drinks usually, even tea, despite half my family being british? and i really really love soda. oh, i can't drive despite being in my twenties lol

hobbies : oh mostly artsy shit. writing, drawing, comics, zines, beading (mostly bracelets and lizards), stickers, that kind of thing. also: video games. mostly playing, but i dabble in making/design also

if you work, what's your profession? no job rn :( got into an MFA program i'll hopefully be starting soon though!

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? hmmm. either creating something (like making my own dream game, writing a book, directing or acting in a tv show, maybe even running a youtube channel or podcast) or like, just something simple but fulfilling that didn't leave me exhausted for my free time. that pays well. you know

something you're good at : writing, i like to think

something you're bad at : um, gender. taking compliments/praise. not having really intense feelings over things that dont matter. typing on mobile phone

something you love : stuffed animals and soft pillows. soda, particularly colas with weird fruity flavors (currently drinking blackberry dr pepper lol) although pibb xtra will always be a fave. loaded fries. hand-cut fries (not loaded)

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff : hmmm any of my beloved case of the week shows (there are too many to list), TMBS, trent crimm

something you hate : people being stupid/wrong in a way that is annoying to me specifically but i know isn't a big deal so i just have to simmer with it and the intense feeling of wanting to correct them somehow but like i'm not a dick so i don't do that but like i'm just simmering in it going hhhhh>:(

something you collect : pins, pens, magnets, beads, stickers, keychains. i love me some little trinkets

something you forget : everything, always, all the time

what's your love language? ummm idk. love languages are kind of bullshit but they're fun to talk about anyway and i guess it'd be like. thoughtful actions and gift giving you know. i do love little gifts i cant help it and people being thoughtful and helping you for no reason is just really nice

favorite movie/show : oh man, i have no idea. there are too many good ones that i rewatch all the time, or ones that are bad but im super attached to one character, or whatever. i can't really decide.

favorite food : fries, particularly either hand-cut fries cooked just right (a little crispy but not crunchy) or like fries loaded in some interesting way (not just slapping cheese and bacon on). also see: cajun/spicy burger with mayo

favorite animal : uhhhh so many good choices. cats. frogs. moths. lizards. dogs. birds. etc. i cant choose im sorry. can i cheat and say dragon for now

are you musical? oh yeah! i haven't played the flute in ages so i'd probably be bad at it but i love to sing

what were you like as a child? extremely annoying, alternating between loud hyper little ball of garish colors (attempted class clown, but too annoying to other children to truly succeed) and extremely quiet forgettable little know-it-all bookworm (attempted teachers' pet, but too annoying to adults to truly succeed)

favorite subject at school? uhh, english and art

least favorite subject? biology, probably

what's your best character trait? i like to think i'm kind and helpful and maybe even funny

what's your worst character trait? i can be selfish and spiteful even if it's mostly internal, and also annoying & persistent when i don't catch a hint. and since i can't really read people well i consistently don't catch the hint. and the not reading people means i also often get defensive and read hostility where it might not be

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? a delicious meal that isn't leftovers

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? oh, i have no clue. i think someone random. not anyone famous, just an everyday (but hopefully nice) person from a chosen period

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!) :

oooh only one?? here, let's. i will settle for three

to seek solace by @andillwriteyouatragedy

slowly, gently, with love by @fade-in-the-dark

Just like bull riding by @itsonlydana

tagging: uhhhhhhhh anyone. who wants to. bc im lazy

[bah-musing]

Hii! Can we have a lvl 4 headmate/part who is in her 20s? We also wanna add the handwriting, art style, handedness, and accent (preferably Irish since we are Irish). I will also add emojis for you to go off of.. 🌑📓🔐💡

Loved the emojis, thank you! :D

Level 4 - Mused - 🌑📓🔐💡

All under the cut!

Name(s): Erin, Locket, Maura, Caitlin, Autumn, Noelle, October,  Journey

Pronouns: she/they/ae

Age range: 20s (21-24 range)

Species: Human, with some dog-ish traits if you please! May or may not be werewolf-y

Personality Snippet: Nostalgic, calm, patient, quiet but not shy, unafraid to ask questions, intro astronomy 

Role(s): Soother (x), Delight (x), Memori (x), Nostalgia Holder (x), Census Taker (x), Doorkeeper(x)

Source: N/A

Gender: Afemfluid (x)

Orientation: Neptunic (x)

Front Triggers: Craft stores, thrifting, DIY projects, fall in general

Faceclaim: First two are from pepperjackets’ friend maker. Third one is from baby_carrot_art’s baby carrot character maker. Added the favorite color so it looked nice!

Nickname(s): Lune, Eri, Lo, Lockie, Mauve, Cait, Lin (/Lynn), Honey, Elle, Oxeye, Journal

Food: Honeycrisp apples, simple lasagna, honey on toast, caramel apples, oranges, roast chicken, rolls, spaghetti, caramel popcorn, kettle corn. 

Drink: Tea with honey, cherry coke, sparkling water, water with flavor packets, old fashioned root beer.

Color: #CD8223 - CIL Golden Amber (x)

Game Genre: Cozy games, strategy games, collector games

Movie Genre: Nature documentaries, maybe paranormal stuff (would get a little scared, but in a fun way!)

Song Genre: Lofi, calm breakcore, acid jazz, 

Hobbies: Walks, enjoying nature, looking into native plants, journaling, thrifting, drawing, writing personal essays for fun, poetry, watercolor, scrapbooking, DIY shenanigans,coloring books,  and meditating. 

Habits: Butters toast on the lighter side, always keeps track of her glasses, always does the spinny when she wears a skirt or dress, keeps a spare hair tie and headband on their person. Caries a lot of things- just in case! 

Songs:

Hunned Bandz - Tanukichan

Rose - midnight muse

Mary - Alex G

C:\\M00G_C?TY_2 - bxnwxghxrn (link since i know it's certainly a title!)

Everlong - Foo Fighters

anything - Adrianne Lenker

Harness Your Hopes - Bside - Pavement

Good Looking - Suki Waterhouse

Media recs: I limited it to only one midnight muse song above, I would recommend the album Flower Language as a whole. Midnight Gospel (show on Netflix, I think there’s more.. But it’s leaving my mind atm!)

Minecraft, Sid Meier’s Civilization (6)

TQ: Either writes with proper punctuation and capitalization or writes in “internet casual” where she just has wanted punctuation and no capitalization or apostrophes (ie. “Yeah, I just went to JoAnn’s.” vs. “yeah, i just went to joanns!”). 

Handwriting: I couldn’t find one that seemed to click, but I think the fonts Playpen Sans and Caveat are lovely for her! Demonstration attached.

Art Style: An image since I had a hard time with words to start. I could see her having a semi-scratchy way of doodling with whatever she has near her! Not afraid to experiment and have fun, tends to doodle space. They love to sketch with ballpoint pens (lightly) and play with colors and hatching! Stars they draw are all sorts of different shapes and are colored with orange and green most commonly.

Second image is how I imagine they would doodle people, a bit of a chibi-ish Animal Crossing style that is disconnected and Cute!

Handedness: Right-handed for precision (writing, drawing, cutting food, etc), left-handed for strength (carrying, archery, etc)!

Accent: Irish

Misc: I feel like she would find learning Latin or Greek fun and maybe even write in it! Favorite season is certainly fall. I think there would be a fondness for apple-scented shampoo or “grandma smells” in shampoo and body wash. Would have fun with press-on nails, but not have the commitment for professional ones that last a lot longer (due to crafty hobbies). Super into match-y outfits! Maybe ae would enjoy DnD? Unsure! I could see the cottagecore aesthetic being appreciated. 

[hushravengoobertown]

THIS IS MY DRIFTER BIO IF ANY OF Y'ALL ARE CURIOUS!! :3

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Birth Name: Huili-Yū (Huili is the Huoshen Goddess of Fire in Chinese mythos while Yū means “Shining Brightly” “Tenderness” “Abundance” and Courage” depending on if you look at Chinese or Japanese Mythos) but of course her name is lost to time and she'll never know the significance of it.

Current Name: Kintsugi (her name is directly referencing the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with silver, gold or platinum. The actual word “Kintsugi” translates to “Golden Seams” beautiful isn't it?)

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Titles: Weaver of the Broken, Queen of Duviri, Angel of Fire, Goddess of Clay and Gold.

Nicknames: Sugi, Sugarcube, Embers, Void Kitten, Velvet Owl, Cuddlywumps, Snugglemuffin.

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Sex/Gender: Female

Birth World: Mars

Home World: Earth

Current Residence: Höllvania, Backroom.

Birth-day: August 8th, ????

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Height: Taller than an average woman, about 5’9”

Weight: 152 lbs

Eye Shape and Color: Rounded Almond. Purple iris, with golden rings. 

Skin Texture and Color: Soft and Smooth, White with golden scarring (cracks from previous injuries not fully healing) 

Hair Style and Color: Either let loose flowing down waving down her shoulders or up in a Tactical Ponytail. A beautiful Maroon-Red color. 

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Style/Fashion: Goth earrings, drifters occulus, a cognitive relay, black gloves, cozy sleeves, tight maroon and cream colored athletic shirt, light blue jeans with chains and red boots, grungy shirt wrapped around her waist, Belly of the Beast medallion she wears around her neck (Belly of the Beast Sigil) and red blossoming facial ink.

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Age: (IN APPEARANCE) 25. 3,756 years old in actuality. 

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Personality Traits: Focused, Creative, Passive Unless provoked, Melancholy or Bubbly depending on the day. Cannot sit still without something to do. (ADHD) Very very sweet to anyone she cares about. Will be head over heels for someone she loves, and will do anything for them, no questions asked. Loyal, VERY food motivated. Patient, Love Animals. Hates Entrati-

Likes: Food, ‘Video Games’ (as of recently), Pottery, Reading, Painting, Shawzin, Singing, Infested, Floofs, Decorating, Amir, Kavats, The Cavia, Rats (as of recently), Kalymos, Stargazing, Fire and listening to people's stories.

Dislikes: Silence, right arm being touched, being cold, being alone, being betrayed.

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Pet Peeves: Unbroken/Uncracked Pots. (Nothing is perfect) Sudden loud Noises (balloons popping in particular) being touched while focused.

Habits: paces around thinking about things. Constantly finds broken pots to mend with her power. Dancing with fire.

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Morals: Nothing is perfect, there is beauty in being broken, she believes all cracks in a person are laced with gold and should be held with dignity, you are beautiful BECAUSE you broke and needed time to heal.

Phobias: Losing loved ones, Fearing Cold, and Being Alone. Drowning. Needles.

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Pros: She's intelligent, Artistic, Adorable, Beautiful in every way, will in fact actually kill for you and make it pretty, Weaves with gold and preserves your best or worst memories for you. Super soft but also quite *ahem* hornball

Cons: She needs a reason to approach or be approached, her time in Duviri has made her very strange when it comes to how she socializes. May or May not get a little too crazy for you and do some extremely raunchy or down right commit war crimes to ‘swoon’ you. Otherwise she's just another ‘tism to add to the pile.

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Personal Glories: Forging her own path with her power's and separating herself from the Void's Influence. Creating a Golden version of the loop in 1999 she can alter at her will.

Personal Trauma: Lost her love from a long time ago in Duviri due to a sudden and horrific Void Storm tearing apart her reality and killing him, regrets killing her parents. 

Powers: Golden Weave, she can pull memories, good (Gold threads) or bad (Black Threads) and draw strength or form from said memories.

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Abilities: Summon Edun, Summon Kaithe, Weavers Framechart (Can utilize a Warframe ability of her choice) Super Heal (Health Regen is rapidly increased for a short time on herself)

Weapons: Edun, Sirroco, Naturuk, Rumblejack, Glaive Prime Sicarus Prime and Gotva Prime

Combat Affinity: Range is preferred, she likes Polearms and Rifles. Worse case scenario daggers haven't failed her. 

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Social Skills: She's usually pretty quiet but has done a damn good job at getting along with everyone she's met. She prefers people approaching her. 

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~Relationships~

Arthur (Emotional Support, Family): Arthur was quite a somber fellow at first but her persistence and understanding he might need a couple of drinks before opening up allowed quite an extremely close friendship to blossom. Arthur was able to learn the truth about Duviri, and Sugi was appreciative of his empathy.

Lettie (Beautiful Friends): Lettie was the last person she expected to get along with but her quick and to the point conversations actually allowed Kintsugi to open up with more direct questions that lead to a sacred friendship.

Eleanor (Philosophical Mentor): Kintsugi never thought Eleanor was that strange, she spoke like her after all, trying to comfort Eleanor made her realize that letting her talk and trying to poke and prod what she likes allows for some extremely philosophical and fascinating conversation, they became quick friends, and Sugi learned a ton from her.

Quincy (Fam): Quincy is a businessman first and foremost, Kintsugi realized this early on and didn't mind it. Only learning what he truly was through Aoi and the others made her more understanding of his predicament with fully letting anyone in, her patience paid off with him and of course the jokes were hilarious. They're like family now.

Aoi (Bestie): Aoi and Kintsugi got along instantly, like 2 peas in a pod they bounced off of each other's vibes and Sugi trusted her with her secrets. They'll always be besties!! (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

Amir (Lover): Ahhh… Amir, he's just wonderful, Sugi couldn't go a day without throwing a few glances at his direction, she was surprised to learn that he belittled his contributions so much, he practically ran the place! All she wanted him to understand was she had so much admiration and love for him. Eventually Amir caught on to her affections and they confessed to each other on his birthday no less! They are lovers by and by and trust each other regardless of what the indifference could pull off.

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Theme Song: Alan Walker - Sing me to Sleep

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Biography: Kintsugi story starts in her version of Duviri, a long time ago when all went to hell on the Zariman she created Duviri as safe haven from the Void, she wasn't alone however, another troubled individual of the Zariman crisis held her close as they both embraced Duviri together, they were lovers. She would get into so much trouble and he would save her. On one terrible day, the chains collapsed and a void storm tore apart her unreality, killing her lover and forcing her to assist the Operator fighting in the New War in their reality. The grief and regret consumed her and she just went along with it. Not knowing what lied ahead she apathetically accepted her role. A few years rolled by and the Lotus needed her assistance against the void, 1999 is where she was headed. Not thinking much of it she went there too, not realizing she would meet her friends for life! Damn Entrati trying to puppet her, she had a different plan in mind and decided for once? She wasn't going to let the void take her precious people again. She found herself looping the Year 1999 like Duviri, made fast friends with the Hex- and even finding love again, promising to use her power's to hopefully one day, break the cycle and save them all.

[emerysarchive]

The more I start thinking about Season 7, the more domino's of problems just keep falling down in my head.

Spoilers under the cut

1) What was that final battle? It felt like I was watching an anime with the long monologues and the slow pacing (I was almost shouting at the end to just press the red button. COMMIT)

2) Speaking of slow pacing, it felt like that throughout the whole season (and some parts it felt a bit rushed? I can't explain it). Or maybe it was because the writers lacked commitment in pretty much everything and instead just jumped around character and plot like in those old arcade machines.

And even then some scenes, in my opinion, were too long. The biggest offender is the final battle. I wanted action you guys, what was happening over there?

3) Especially I can't get over the baffling decision of never commiting to an actual, impactful, emotional moment

In the last battle, ignoring the rainbow dash dragon in the room, I was so sure that once Avizandum sees Zym we would get an emotional flashback and because of that memory he would come back. But nope.

4) Why tease dark mage Callum if we only get his phantom alter ego and some drawings? Hot take (?), but if you foreshadow something like that so heavily then commit to it.

I know some have the opinion he should have died, but I present to you a more devastating option - have him use dark magic and Rayla be unable to kill him then.

Callum 'died' when he used that spell and now he's a walking shell of who he used to be. Similarly to Claudia he's just not the same person and that the Callum we loved died with the spell.

(All that talk how a star goes nova and there's just darkness left? Or something along those lines. C'mon.)

5) Another hot take (I should start building a bunker...) but I was never convinced of Claudia's and Aaravos father daughter 'dynamic'. I was 110% sure Aaravos is too far gone and will manipulate her in ever way he can. He has no sympathy for her, only the need for revenge. Not even for his daughter anymore, for himself.

6) So the nova blade did nothing? Cool. Another build up left in the dust (and the dragons just killed him anyway? What was the blade for then? To be relevant in future seasons???)

I swear I want to love this season and I still deeply care and love this show, but I can’t ignore some things. Overall I felt a bit underwhelmed and I don’t like that. I expected this season to be emotionally devastating, but instead I was just confused for a bit why it didn't hit the way I wanted to.

They set up good moments for that and just lacked the will to go through with it.

I'll sleep on it and rewatch the season, but I think I pin pointed most of the reasons why it was underwhelming for me.

And don't get me wrong, there were still some good moments, they are just overshadowed by problems for me.

[listedbuilding]

omgg a week ago was the one year anniversary of me originally coming up with my favourite story i've ever thought of 😁 cringe earnestness under the cut you know how it is

uhmmm ummm my two sweet animals angelina and maisie yay.

i just can't even look at them it's simply too much... TBH i am very proud of the story i've written for them and i think it's some of my best work but i really only have some intense google doc outlines to show for it rn so you just have to trust me when i say they mean a lot to me.. i do really want to actually make something out of the chapter outlines one day but it'd have to be at a time in my life when i have more genuine free time 😭😭 i did start making comic pages for them but truthfully it just takes so long it's such a commitment LOL

AGGHH idk it is just simply in my nature to come up with fictional cats to imbue with every emotion i have ever experienced. to put it in short their story basically takes place over the course of a year in their lives in which the two of them lived together in a house in this small seaside town which belonged to maisie's late great aunt and was just sort of left in a state after her death. and it goes back and forth chapter by chapter between their adult lives in the course of this year and their childhood/teenage memories together as friends throughout the years and 🤓To be honest i spent a lot of time making it all add up and make sense to me and it's about love and it's about grief and it's about every single human relationship and experience i've ever had projected onto these cats who both love each other very much. and there's a lot more to the story of course but it doesn't really matter because the point isn't that it's really sensical or good to any one else the point is that It means a lot to meeeee😁

it's also just fun because i feel like i fell way out of the swing of making up stories like i used to when i was like 12 and then i came up with these guys and it really knocked me back into my insanity.

drawing above👆by chunkysoup22 on here not mee. but it's one of my favourite images to look at :)

Well anyways what everrr dont look at me (trips and dies)

[duckvenger]

Ghost out here once again making a song that I associate with Jekyll and Hyde.

This song has such strong Jekyll vibes to me. And then there's the song I associate with Hyde:

Huh, the thumbnails for each video even have similar colour schemes. That's a neat coincidence. (Animatic ideas under cut)

I really wish I felt confident enough to try animation, because it'd be so cool to make Nowhere To Hyde animatics for these videos. Scapegoat would come first, the song focusing on Hyde's struggle with his identity as nothing but Jekyll's shadow, and his descent into rage at not getting to be his own individual. Hyde learns to accept that he and Jekyll are one and the same, but it's too late, as he and Jekyll are now at each other's throats. At the very least, Hyde chooses to reveal the truth to Utterson, via a dramatic drink of the transformation potion...

Pathological Façade demonstrates Jekyll's perspective, showcasing how frequently he fakes a smile and hides his true feelings. But most of all, this animatic would focus on Jekyll's repression, which in Nowhere To Hyde, includes the good doctor repressing his own memories to further separate himself from Hyde. There would be many drawings of Jekyll covering his eyes to ignore the bad deeds Hyde is committing, only for later drawings to show the good doctor as the man committing those bad acts. The climax of the animatic involves Jekyll yelling and shouting at Hyde, only for the doctor to open his eyes and see that he was just yelling at himself in the mirror. There is no Hyde, there is only Jekyll: a man who wishes so badly that he was someone else; that he has someone else who understands him in a way no-one else can; that he has someone to blame for all of his pain that isn't himself.

...If you haven't listened to the songs by now, I highly recommend that you do! :D

[hanszoe]

I don’t know if you have or not, but can you describe Hans’ physical appearance and personality? Or like how they seemed to be more disinterested in their passions throughout the show? I hope that makes sense.

hello, thank you for the ask!

i have some links in my pinned post talking about things such as their muscle composition and eye injury.

as far as their physical appearance goes, it seems like there are actually multiple official appearances for them, the one isayama illustrated and their anime appearance. isayama seems to make a clear distinction between the two based on this interview (cw transmisogyny). that translation translates 性別 as "gender" but it should be "sex", and i believe isayama actually wanted an androgynous appearance for them. most fans seem to draw them how they're depicted in the anime, and i don't mind either, but i will base my own work off of their manga depiction.

the manga style isn't detailed enough for us to know about most features of their body, so there's a lot of room for fan interpretation. things such as skin tone, blemish patterns, wrinkles, muscle tone, etc. are all mostly up to interpretation. i'll have to make decisions like this for how i want to depict them in detail at some point, i'll probably look for some athletes with similar builds to them. i've also thought some recently about their exact eye color and think i'm going to go with a dull light brown color like this one.

as for their changing in personality, i'm not confident enough to state definitively since i haven't taken exhaustive notes on the manga, but i think that hansi was actually depicted quite consistently in this way. there are very early pulls for hansi not wanting to be forced into a role and it's the core of their narrative arc, becoming unable to see beyond what sannes said to them in the cell. i've seen some complaints about their death scene and do believe it was an insert myself, but in my opinion it at least does a good job of concluding this theme, as erwin's dialogue finally relieves them of their role, one which they had to give their life to be free from. i don't believe that hansi was exactly right in being unable to see a life for them outside of it, but any attempts they made to connect with people in a way that might help them resolve it we see all shot down. ultimately they became a victim of the narrative's same persistent commitment to helplessness.

i also read a theory from tsuki no ura about eren potentially erasing something from their memory. i have yet to take detailed notes on the manga so i'm not sure what he would have erased or why, but this could be another explanation for their total lack of hope and losing interest in titan science, which suspiciously some mentions of marley's titan research association also seem to go nowhere, especially considering pieck's comment "you seem to know even more about titans than marley" to hansi. i have some theories on this, but nothing definitive yet.

even if that's not the case, i think there is sufficient textual explanation for hansi losing their passion for titans either way, as after finding out the walls are made of them they confess to moblit that it was terrifying, the same way the first time they left the walls on an expedition felt. being confronted with another huge unknown truth of the world was similar, and i believe by the time they're called to paths hansi just has nothing but terror left. there are only so many totally unforeseen recontextualizations of ones' understanding of reality that one can take before everything starts to seem meaningless.

[xvexhexx]

My name is Tanya/Kaz or you can call me vex too I uh draw I guess.

Here’s my Caard and pronoun-page

My DMs are always open and my personal is @coctyusheart

Some (but not limited to) fandoms I like (plus tags); (And my OC universes below that)

Voltron, PJO, various musicals like Heathers, BMC, Hades town ect. Danganronpa, genshit, Honkai, ace attorney, hazbin hotel, helluva boss, Undertale, HADES, dungeons and dragons, homestuck, bg3, JJBA, MLP, mythologies, Skyrim, and more tbh.

I really like cats and all animals :3 too.

~

Anyway as my ocs go;

MML: mirrors of monochrome lights

| 7 young adults in college who went to highschool together get swept into a weird situation in which they end up in a magical world that acts like they’ve been there the whole time and has people they know

| everyone is gay or sumn or bipoc except Peter he’s the token straight

Main Cast; Vanessa F, Persephone K, Giovanni T, Radha J, Drago S, Amai A, Peter A.

DOSM: Ditchotomy of sun and moon

This was intended to be made as a video game however…I do not have that skill set.

| you play as Moss, as you land in Chicago after the calamity 20 years ago, with little to no memories and people seem to be sorted into three Catergories.

| The gold who prefer the Sun kingdom, and have been deemed morally good, and/or socially accepted have received the gift of natural talent. Gold and very subtle sparkles in the arm

| the Star: the neutral who can go where ever they please but the town is considered neutral territory. They are the middle grounds, socially and morally can go either way. They have grey arms and the power of diplomacy.

| the moon: for thoes go are outcasted, demonized or have committed to darker morals, (usually it’s just outcasts tbh) and they frequently reside in the town, the town wood or the Moon kingdom. They have received the gift of magic which correlated to marking on thier arms.

Main cast: Moss (the mc), Vanessa (another one ik), Kevin, Zerena, Nico.