#I still love him as a character with all my heart

[daycourtofficial]

I will follow you into the dark

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3k | warnings: character death, depictions of violence and gore, depressive tendencies shown

Summary: going through the five stages of grief after Azriel’s death is much easier with his shadows’ assistance

Alternate summary: “daycourtofficial stabs everyone in the heart” - @milswrites

Author’s note: this is heartbreaking as hell but I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever written. I legitimately sobbed while typing this. Tagging my pookie @illyrianbitch bc I sent her an early draft and her fic ‘when the heart is still longing’ inspired a scene in this

Cold. Ruthless. Calculated.

Words used to describe who Azriel was for the first five hundred years of his life. He wore a mask of indifference, a cold exterior to the world, letting them believe he was nothing more than the cruel exterior he showed everyone past his beloved family.

Until he met you.

You, whose extraordinary kindness and never ending patience for him helped him through the darkest pits of his soul.

It’s this past self he thinks about as the blade meets his skin, tearing through layers of muscle, blood spilling down his chest as it’s removed.

It’s this past self he reaches out to, begging for one moment to go back. To go back and save himself so much time. He would go back, his wings carrying him across Prythian, his landing harsh as he sprinted through your hometown.

He wouldn’t stop until he knocked on your door, his knuckles aching from how hard he would knock. He’d give anything to go back, even if it was just an extra forty-five minutes. He would run until his lungs burned, his legs barely able to hold himself up. He’d run down the cobbled street the two of you would walk down after a night at Rita’s, leaning against each other for support after a night of drinking.

He’d run past the bakery the two of you would meet at every Thursday morning, splitting pastries between the two of you and gossiping about your friends. He’d run up the stairs to your apartment, running up the steps you two walked thousands of times. He’d stop in front of that green door, the spot you two stood in for your first kiss.

He would knock and knock and knock, his fingers bleeding from how hard his knuckles were hitting the wood. He’d look at you as you opened the door, confused as to who he was and what he was doing there.

“You don’t know me, but in a few days I’m going to run into you at the bookstore. I’ll be with my friend Nesta and she’ll push me into you. She’s never admitted it, but I think she saw how I was staring at you and did it to force me to talk to you.

“You were so pretty, paging through some novel. I owe Nesta everything for pushing me into you, making me fall into the chair you were sitting in. It looked ridiculous - Nesta made sure to let Feyre broadcast it to everyone.

“I never cared. You were everything then, and you’ve been everything to me for over a century. What I wouldn’t give to come back here, to find you earlier, even just forty-five minutes. I’d give anything for more time with you.”

His eyes would peer around the apartment you moved out of decades and decades ago, moving all of your furniture into the house a ten minute walk from here. It would all smell like you, not a trace of him on you yet.

He would beg and plead with any god as to why he deserves just one extra minute of your time.

But he’s not in that apartment that you don’t own anymore, he’s somewhere in the present, he thinks. Azriel’s not sure where he is, but he reaches out towards you, trying to send every ounce of his love down that bridge that connects the two of you. He reaches a hand out, wanting to hold you one last time. He can feel your fear thrumming his chest as your hands frantically apply pressure to his neck, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He interrupts your pleas, stroking his fingers on your cheek, smearing his blood across it.

You’re here, he thinks.

He loved making you blush, your own blood changing the color of your cheeks as he flirted with you. Now his own blood was coloring your skin, a last marking of himself on you.

Every word from his mouth caused the blood to gush from his wound, but he didn’t care. He was fighting for every breath, every word. He knew this was the end. He was just grateful to the Mother that the last thing he’d see in this life was you.

He chokes on his blood, coughing exacerbating the wound.

“In every life.”

He pulls himself up, using your shoulders to brace himself. He pulls your lips to his, soft and delicate, as if it’s the first time he’s kissing you all over again. As if you’re back on that cobblestone street, the two of you standing right in front of your door, a mess of limbs and lips.

The blood on his neck is traded for the tie he wore, one that you had complimented him on as you saw him. You had pulled him down to you by his tie, pulling him to your lips.

And now he was pulling himself up to you, a final goodbye.

He pours everything into it, pouring every last bit of himself through the string connecting the two of you, clinging desperately to that connection for every moment.

You kiss him back just as urgently, hands holding his wounds. His mouth is salty as your tears start running into the kiss, your hands sticky and warm with his blood.

Your kisses become more and more urgent as he starts losing energy, your sense of urgency increasing as he starts fading, that golden bridge connecting the two of you not as bright as it was with each passing moment.

You know he stopped kissing you back a moment ago, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. This should be a fairytale and true love’s kiss is enough to bring someone back.

You pull back, moving his face into your neck, unable to let go. You can’t hear anything except the echo of where your bond was, as if it clanged all the way down your body as it disconnected you from him. You feel someone grip your shoulders, desperate to pull you away from your mate. Your sobs are piercing as you tighten your grip on him.

He’s still warm, he can come back. Still warm, he’ll be back. You start rocking with him in your arms, your tears creating tracks in the blood on your face. A body is pressed to your back, large and warm, and large tan hands cover your own on Azriel’s face. You hear slight sounds, you think it might be Cassian, but you’re not sure.

You don’t feel his tears on your neck

All you feel is a deep, gaping hole inside of you where Azriel lives.

Lived.

Your breaths come fast and choppy, and you start jerking in Cassian’s arms, the feeling of him too much, too much. You felt suffocated, your powers boiling within you as his body grows colder.

His shadows slithered over you, several of them still remaining with their master. Their patterns were meant to be soothing, but it wasn’t working. Several of them cloak Azriel in mourning, their usual energetic nature dulled in the aftermath.

The air in the room changes as all the heat is sucked into your body, your skin blazing. It happens so quickly - you feel Cassian pull away from you as someone slides Azriel’s body from yours, somebody else rushing forward and tackling you to the ground. Instead of hitting hard flooring, your head hits grass, your body racing with adrenaline.

You look up to find Rhysand letting go of you before backing up. He has tears down his face, his eyes a muddier shade of violet than before.

“Let it out. Here. Now.”

Your skin is boiling, everything in you desperate for release. All you feel is the tendril of a lone shadow around your ankle as you burn. You can’t hear Rhys’s sobs, only the roaring of the fire as the grass catches the spark.

The next week goes by in a blur. A funeral - one where the town of black wore deep blue to honor your mate’s lifetime of sacrifice. A few shadows remain with you, the only reason you’re able to get through his funeral is with their touch.

“Hey Az.”

The grass is wet with dew, the early morning fog sticking to it. You don’t notice how damp the ground is beneath you as you sit next to him. Your hands grasp the grass next to his grave, the dirt over his grave too fresh for anything to be growing on top of it.

Your fingers thread through the blades, holding tightly, as if you can uproot them and pull him back to the surface, back to you. As if you kept digging you could find that bond nestled within you somewhere.

Your lip wobbles as you try to say something, anything. The various flower arrangements that surround you both speak of how many visitors he’s had.

He would tell you that the bouquet of orange lilies are from Elain, because those are currently in bloom in Day. He would tell you that the arrangement of blue and black came from Rhysand and Feyre, the flowers meaning ‘a great sacrifice’.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him how the world has become duller in his absence, how you hardly eat or bathe, hardly leave your home at all. How Nesta and Feyre take turns visiting you, ensuring you eat and bathe, getting you to move your legs at least once a day.

He’d be disappointed you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d want you to continue on, despite the unbearable horrors that live in your chest. It felt like your entire ribcage were burst open, your pain and sadness leaking out of every pore for all to see.

Despite the fact that centuries together have led you here, at the end of the road. A road you happily traveled, knowing it would end here eventually.

You’d never regret choosing him, opening yourself up to this inevitable heartache.

You just regret every moment that happens now that he’s gone.

His shadows have followed you to the cemetery, their presence one you’re grateful for. You know they love you, much like Azriel did, and you’ll take any part of him you can cling onto.

You know they’ll leave eventually. No one understood them. Were they sentient beings? Or were they mere whispers of Azriel’s presence, an echo of an echo of his power, disappearing whenever they wish?

You sit, your back leaned against his tombstone, the words “beloved mate” pressing into your back. You moved over, wanting to be as close as possible to him. You don’t much care if the dirt sticks to your skirts. Nuala and Cerridwen won’t say anything to you. They felt his absence too.

You push your hand into the dirt, grasping at it in hopes he’ll grasp your hand back. All you feel are the shadows swarming your fingertips, imitating his soft touch.

-

You lay in your bed, the one that is much too large without your mate. The shadows cloak over you like a blanket, carrying his smell with them.

They missed him too.

You sealed some of Azriel’s clothes away, a magical enchantment that preserved their smell. You were grateful you had the shadows for now, however fleeting their presence may be.

Where Nesta and Feyre helped you bathe, the shadows helped keep your room clean. You stayed in the House of Wind, everyone agreeing you shouldn’t be alone during this time. That was weeks ago, you think.

You’re not really sure.

Time wasn’t moving like it used to anymore. Hours and days pass without your notice, a gray fog hanging over you at all times. You move through the monotony of grief, unaware of your surroundings or how you get anywhere half the time.

You blink and find yourself at his grave.

“It was supposed to be me,” you half yell at the grave marker, your blood getting warmer with your anger.

You hate it. You hate how everything he was, six centuries of a life well-lived, were boiled down to adjectives and monikers.

“Beloved mate.”

“Beloved brother.”

You hated those words, as if that’s all he were. The words don’t tell how he would pick you up when you fell asleep reading and carry you to bed, how he’d help you cheat every time you played cards against Cassian because you laughed so hard whenever he flipped the table, or how his fingers would brush the hair from your face when the two of you cooked dinner every night.

‘Beloved’ is nothing to how your chest felt when he’d come home and see you before he updated Rhysand after being gone so you knew he was okay.

‘Brother’ is not enough to convey how much he loved Rhysand and Cassian, how much love and sacrifice they poured into each other.

“You said I could go first. You promised. And now I’m here, alone, without you. And I don’t- I don’t know how to do it.”

You were yelling, screaming at this slab of granite. You kicked the flowers on the grave, watching them fly through the air as the petals fell.

Yellow for friendship.

“It was supposed to be me! Not you!”

You tug at your hair before you lose all your strength, sinking into the grass covering his grave. Your tears resemble morning dew as they cling to the grass, your knees becoming green with the contact. A few shadows wind through your hair, a few others bring back the bouquet you kicked, placing the flowers back where they were, albeit a bit damaged.

“You’ve never broken a promise before.”

Your voice is weak, the stone in front of you unresponsive to your breakdown.

-

Life moves on. Everyone feels Azriel absence - even Lucien, so full of words is quieter around you. They don’t know how to talk to you anymore, your life becoming more and more hollow as the mating bond in your chest decays, growing into a moldy, decaying thing that turned you rotten.

Why him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Why was it your mate - the one who sacrificed everything all of the time? Why wasn’t it Cassian or Rhysand or any of his spies?

Anyone but him.

You’d do anything.

The days keep moving, the forward progress of time a joke to you. Or perhaps you were the joke to the Mother. You slug through the days, finally able to bathe and dress yourself, but struggling to remember to eat.

Then the voices start.

It’s one soft voice, one you could hear in any lifetime, any world and know who it belonged to. His voice soft as ever delicately telling you to eat, coming and going on the wind around mealtimes.

You listened to it. You could never stay no to him, even if it was just an echo of him living in his shadows.

-

It was well known amongst his family members that Rhysand required his beauty sleep. Eight hours minimum of undisturbed slumber.

Which is why he is tearing through his house on a warpath at whoever is at his door at 2:30 in the morning. He angrily slung on a robe, harshly opening his door, ready to chew out who lay on the other side.

He did not expect to find you, panic stricken, shadows swirling around you.

Your sobs fill his ears, “they won’t stop, Rhys. They keep telling me everything. That Feyre’s asleep, Nyx is asleep and cooing. Cassian’s snoring, Nesta’s awake and brewing tea. They won’t stop.”

You start to collapse, but the shadows hold you up long enough for Rhysand to grab you and bring you in through the threshold.

He places you down on the couch and inspects the shadows swirling around you. He watches them flit about, some moving away, some circling you. He steps on one as it slithers past him, holding it in place.

He looks at you as he grabs the shadow, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, watching it wiggle in his grasp.

“Is this the first time they’ve spoken to you?”

You shake your head no, whispering, “they speak one at a time usually. And not like this.”

His gaze is sympathetic, sitting you on his sofa. “What do they usually say?”

You look down at your shoes, a sense of shyness overcoming you. You pick at your pants, “mostly to eat and take care of myself.”

You hum, remembering, “last week one of them told me Nyx was going to fall, which is how I caught him so quickly.”

Rhys’s eyes are penetrating as he gazes at you, his eyes are a curious shade of violet.

“Can we try something?”

-

Months later, you return home, the black of your clothes hiding the blood soaked within them. You traipse through the foyer, forgetting it was even family game night. Their conversations halt at your appearance. Despite wearing the same colors of the Night Court, the black looks like a deeper shade on you.

Or perhaps the shadows circling you made you look as if you belonged amidst them rather than the fae looking at you.

You nod to Rhys, your only form of communication these days. He nods back, a strained smile on his lips, devastated to watch what you’ve become, grateful he made a pact with Feyre to never continue on without her.

You don’t miss how his hand squeezes her a little too tight.

Your family watches as you step back into the shadows, the darkness consuming you once more. You prefer to stay in them instead of being alone. You linger in their embrace, their consumption of you everything you need, the remnants of Azriel’s scent lingering in this liminal space. You inhale his scent once more, tears stinging your eyes. In the darkness that surrounds you, never knowing where you end or begin, not knowing exactly where in the world you were.

Where nothing and everything existed, floating through your mate’s truest companions, you hear his voice calling to you, the soft tenor of his voice coming from a direction you can’t quite pinpoint.

Or perhaps it was only an echo.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rheanys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

_____

Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

[just-a-bean-babes]

Not to engage in controversy, but let me defend my anti Edwin/Cat King stance for a moment.

Let me cut y’all off and say that I think the Cat King’s deal is an excellent plot point. It falls perfectly into classic fairy tale patterns; mess with a powerful being’s domain and receive a cunty little riddle on how to get out of your new life destabilizing curse. It’s wonderful, it’s fascinating, it has a distinctly Neil Gaiman spin despite him not writing the show, I love it.

However, that does not make it a cool moral premise to begin any sort of relationship with. There is an explicitly demonstrated power imbalance; the Cat King is shown to have powers way beyond Edwin, and is using his power to put him in danger. His offer to remove the curse if Edwin fucks him, then, is not an offer that could be truly consented to.

Even though we see that the Cat King cares for Edwin in many ways. Even though we know that Edwin is physically attracted to the Cat King. The offer is nonetheless made in a quid-pro-quo, tit-for-tat manner (sleep with me and you’ll get that promotion, your grades will improve, I’ll make a recommendation for you). Regardless of the presence of attraction or care on either side in any case like this, it is still exploitative because true, reliable consent cannot be given in the presence of coercive power imbalance.

Let me be clear again, I love the presence of this dynamic in the show. It adds enormous complexity to the Cat King’s character and to Edwin’s journey with his sexuality. It makes the offer all the more interesting as we learn about the Cat King’s care for Edwin’s well being. It makes it satisfying and offers an insight into Edwin when he gives the Cat King the accurate cat count in Port Townsend, even though he’s attracted to him and genuinely intrigued by his offer.

Narratively it is excellent. Morally it is still an exploitative relationship founded on power imbalance. This is something that could be worked through, if they so decided to! And I would be on board in that case (though my PayneLand heart would shatter). But it is something that would need to be worked through, and as of yet has not been.

TLDR; Cat King, it’s neat that you care about Edwin and that Edwin’s attracted to you, but the options “fuck me, or you and your friends will probably die while you try to complete an extremely difficult and tedious (though possible) task” is not a healthy starting point in a relationship.

[sugary-strawberry-shortcake]

The Tortured Poet's Department

lyrics as relationships with various character

anon: hiii! this is my first official post and I'm kinda anxious. This is actually a result of my procrastination regarding my final exam, which I'm kind of stressed about. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this post and please don't mind my writing too much. English isn't my first language (or my second). By the way, a big thank you to @dr-felitas. for helping me with assigning characters.

"And I love you, it's ruining my life" - Fortnight

"You're ruining my life, dear."

He wasn't exactly glaring at you when he saw you wearing that red dress. After he watched you descend the stairs, he felt as though his whole world had stopped. It took him some time to compose himself again and fake a devastated expression. His feelings for you were no joke. Whatever goals and principles he had were all thrown out of the window when he noticed you.

Throughout his life, he thought he was a rational man, not caring about sentimental things like friends, family, or love. Nevertheless, this changed when he experienced your smile for the first time. Like a tornado, you changed his perception of life and the world. At that moment, he thanked God for your entrance into his life and prayed for you to remain there. He would make sure you would be with him, happy and healthy, because that was all he desired in life.

____________

NANAMI (jjk), GOJO (jjk), Choso (jjk), SAE, Chigiri, Nagi, RIN (bllk), LEVI (aot) , Shotou (mha), Reiner (aot), Zoro, Iwazumi, Tsukishima (haikyuu!)

"You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? / I died on the altar waiting for the proof." - So Long, London

He said to keep it under cover. He loved you, but the two of you couldn't tell anyone about your relationship or it would cause unwanted stress. Your man is a superstar, a god, even some might say. Whenever he enters a room, people turn their heads and fawn over him. Every street in the city is plastered with his gorgeous physique.

In comparison to him, you seem ordinary. Too ordinary. Although he had assured you that you were the one for him, the differences between you wouldn't matter to him. So why did you feel so insecure in your relationship? You weren't sure of his feelings after years of being with him. You were unable to read him, to see true expressions of his love.

Year after year, anniversary after anniversary, you still wondered when he would pop the question to prove his love and commit fully to a life with you. Even the media and those close to him began questioning the lack of progress in your relationship. This leads to you confronting him. In the middle of the fight, you broke down. While you were sobbing and begging him to love you, his face remained stoic.

"I do love you, I just can't see myself marrying you."

You left with a broken heart. Waiting for him to change his mind would only waste your time. You regretted loving him for a long time. Through the view of the media, he seemed unaffected by your loss, maybe even happier.

"I do."

Albeit he may regret never putting a ring on your finger when he saw you the first time after your breakup. You were happy on the altar with your husband. A man that wasn't him, but could have been if only he had appreciated you more.

____________

USHIJIMA (haikyuu!), Atsumu, Gojo (jjk) Getou (jjk), Megumi (jjk), Rin, Michael (bllk), Hawks (mha)

"They shake their heads, saying 'God, help her' when I tell 'em he's my man" - I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

"He isn't right for you."

Your parents didn't approve of him. Actually, no one in your circle did. They all deemed him too reckless and ruthless, without any convincing achievements in his life. In their eyes, he wasn't worthy of you and your love.

Their worries weren't unfounded, to be honest; they were reasonable. He was the epitome of a walking red flag: a raging alcoholic with a history of illegal records. His temper and frequent visits to the pub often led to fights. But he promised to tone down the aggression whenever you patched up his wounds.

"You make me a better man. I love you."

Nevertheless, all his imperfections didn't matter to you, not when he held you in bed and promised to always cherish you. According to him, you were calming his raging soul and bringing out the best in him. You were the shining light in his life, and he was the healthy amount of darkness in yours.

No matter what the people around you both said, you couldn't imagine yourself having a happy life without him. You were adamant about fixing his flaws, even if it meant drowning yourself in the process.

_________________

TOJI (jjk), SUKUNA (jjk), UVOGIN (hxh), PHINKS (hxh), Sasuke (naruto), Dabi, Katsuki (mha), Eren (aot), NAYOA (jjk),

"And it kills me. I just don't understand how you don't miss me."- The Black Dog

Just a few weeks ago, the two of you were dining together. He was laughing at your sweet antics and grimaces as you struggled with the chopsticks, and you were enjoying being the reason for his happiness. Then the atmosphere changed when the waiter made a slightly flirty comment towards you. This sparked an argument between the two of you. He accused you of flirting back, and you declared him delusional. In the heat of the moment, he packed his belongings and left the apartment. And he never came back.

The heartbreak hit you a few days later when you realized he wasn't coming back. You were miserable, laying in bed, crying, stuffing your mouth full of ice cream, and watching your comfort shows. It was as if a part of your happiness had left with him. Only when your friends forced you to dress up and dragged you to the nearest club did you feel like living again.

Your smile dropped when you saw him. He was sitting at the bar with a woman on his lap. His hands were on her barely covered thighs, and her lips were pressing on his neck. Your heart sank, and all the noise around you seemed muted.

"Only three weeks after you both broke up? What an ass!"

Your friends tried to comfort you as you could only nod. Why was it that you were suffering without him while he seemed to feel no pain? This caused you to doubt your former relationship. Had he ever really loved you as you did him? Or were you the one who always loved him more? You couldn't bear the sight any longer when you heard his raspy laugh, a laugh he only had with you. With a quick goodbye, you stormed outside as fast as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched longingly as you left the bar.

_________________________

SUKUNA (jjk), TOJI (jjk), Oikawa (haikyuu!), Hisoka (hxh), Michael (bllk), Oliver, Sae, Katsuki (mha),

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle"- So High School

Both of you couldn't be any more contrasting. You are the shy girl who loves to hide behind her novels but still excels at the top of her class. He was the cocky, loud football champion of the school. No one would have ever thought to see you interact, but this changed when you were assigned to tutor him.

How could he stop himself from falling for you when you were so endearing? Blushing whenever he complimented you and laughing at his jokes. Not long after your study sessions, he confessed his feelings and asked you to be his girlfriend. To no one's surprise, you agreed.

"Will you watch me during my practice?"

He grinned at you with a cocky smile. Or maybe it wasn't cocky; it could also be considered charming in your eyes. He loved seeing you sitting on the bleachers, reading your book and looking adorable doing it. And you loved being there, watching him during his passion and supporting him in your own introverted way.

Yet he supported you too. Whenever you were nervous before an upcoming exam, he would encourage you while also making sure you took care of yourself. He would boast about your relationship and you in front of everyone he knew and met. If someone dared to comment on you or your relationship negatively, he would confront them and make them regret their words.

"You're my smart girl."

No one would have thought the two of you could be such a match, but seeing the two of you together was proof enough that opposites attract and complement each other.

_____________________

Bokuto (haikyuu!!) , REO (bllk), YUJI (jjk), GOJO (jjk), GON (hxh), Rin (bllk), Michael (bllk), Deku (mha), PERCY JACKSON (pjo), Ace, HINATA (haikyuu!), Kuroo (haikyuu!) , Luffy

[nalyra-dreaming]

hello :) why do you think it was easier for claudia to go for louis and not lestat on board for her plan to leave in the finale of s1? do you think they may even show us a different retelling of murder night this season?

She thought him easier to handle, and knew Lestat would never hurt Louis.

That is... the very blunt truth of it.

Here is the diary entry from "Merrick", which I think will play a part at the trial:

Louis will do as I wish, even unto the very destruction of Lestat, which I plan in every detail. Whereas Lestat would never cooperate with my designs upon Louis. So there my loyalty lies, under the guise of love even in my own heart. "What mysteries we are, human, vampire, monster, mortal, that we can love and hate simultaneously, and that emotions of all sorts might not parade for what they are not. I look at Louis and I despise him totally for the making of me, and yet I do love him. But then I love Lestat every bit as well. "Perhaps in the court of my heart, I hold Louis far more accountable for my present state than ever I could blame my impulsive and simple Lestat. The fact is, one must die for this or the pain in me will never be scaled off, and immortality is but a monstrous measurement of what I shall suffer till the world revolves to its ultimate end. One must die so that the other will become ever more dependent upon me, ever more completely my slave. I would travel the world afterwards; I would have my way; I cannot endure either one of them unless that one becomes my servant in thought, word, and deed. "Such a fate is simply unthinkable with Lestat's ungovernable and irascible character. Such a fate seems made for my melancholy Louis, though the destroying of Lestat will open new passages for Louis into the labyrinthian Hell in which I already wander with every new thought that comes in my mind. "When I shall strike and how, I know not, only that it gives me supreme delight to watch Lestat in his unguarded gaiety, knowing that I shall humiliate him utterly in destroying him, and in so doing bring down the lofty useless conscience of my Louis, so that his soul, if not his body, is the same size at last as my own.

I think there is a high chance that "Murder Night" went differently as seen, and I think they may have filmed it already back then, since Sam supposedly filmed on for a while with Bailey, after Jacob had left, and there was this BTS pic of it.

Now in the book Louis more or less stood by as Claudia went and stabbed Lestat - I do think that this might have happened here as well. Since they said they would revisit murder night... I guess we might still get to see it. Or something about it at least.

Whatever it is - I bet it will be harrowing.

[talia-black]

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

Mondstadt Boys

Nothing sexual is explicitly mentioned in this, only vaguely suggestive for Venti. For all of the younger characters it is strictly romantic. (And before you come at me in the comments, I went to high school. I’ve seen close romantic relationships between teenagers that never even verged on sexual and would never even consider writing an underaged character in such a light.) 

This is also my first time making a post like this, so please be nice. Any advice is welcome since I’m still relatively new to Tumblr.

Kaeya-

Kaeya would never in a million years consider dating someone with serious romantic intentions, even if his feelings were fully reciprocated. His past, his secrets, his ties to so many dangerous factions would put them in immediate danger at all times, and if there’s one thing we know about Kaeya it's that he would do anything to protect the people he loves. Including breaking both his and their hearts in the process. But if he was free from all of that, Kaeya would love an SO who he could just relax around. Just be Kaeya instead of everything else. They would be his safe space, his only true home outside of Dawn Winery, and the true meaning of freedom for him. 

What Kaeya didn’t know he wanted in a significant other was someone who could see past his masks instinctively. They never commented on his half-truths, his bluffs, his misdirections. But through the briefest of eye contact he knew that you knew exactly what he was doing. He comes back home in the early hours of the morning with bloody knuckles and open wounds, they are still up and bandages him while talking softly about whatever gossip had been hot on the market that morning. 

Kaeya is flirtatious by nature, and his playboy attitude extends to them in public so many don’t think their relationship is that serious. But behind closed doors, with his heart open and gently placed in their hands, you would think they were divine in nature. They laughed at the attempts of other people to flirt with him, because they already knew that his heart belonged to them.

Diluc-

Much like Kaeya, Diluc knows he lives too dangerous a life to consider a romantic relationship. Unlike Kaeya though, he craves that connection just a little more fiercely than Kaeya. While Kaeya is constantly surrounded by the friendly comradery of the Knights, Diluc is far more isolated. Of course he has Adeline, Elzer, and the other workers at the Dawn Winery who’ve known him since he was a child, but he doesn’t share any close friendships that goes to on a regular basis. What Diluc knows he would want in an SO more than anything else is companionship. If he could afford to, he wouldn’t care where they’re from or what their background is if they were able to make him forget about his responsibilities for just a little bit. Someone he can come home to. 

What Diluc didn’t know he wanted was someone who could help him repair his stunted relationships. Someone who invites Kaeya over for tea while they know he will be home and eventually coax both of the brothers to dig up five years worth of skeletons and come to a much better understanding. Someone who helps him at the bar after long days working in the vineyard, keeping an ear out for anything people might not otherwise let slip near the intimidating man. Above all else, Diluc did not know what he wanted was a true partner who was as dedicated to his own wellbeing as he was to theirs.

Diluc would not be showy about his affection beyond what was appropriate for a gentleman. Arm hooked around yours, hand against lower back, and maybe a quick peck on the lips if they had relative privacy. Back home though, this man is so touch-starved that he will be wrapped around his SO for as much time as possible. Playing chess? Too bad, they have to move their pieces while sitting on his side of the board. Reading a book? Someone’s head is in the other person’s lap. Sleeping? They only use a thin sheet because Diluc is a heater and plasters himself to his SO’s back and tucks them under his chin like a stuffed animal. 

Venti- 

Wow. You thought the previous two were traumatized? Venti has watched entire civilizations be wiped from remembrance at the whims of the Heavenly Principles and does everything in his power to make Monstadt seem like less of a threat in order to prevent the same thing from happening to him. Nearly all of his significant relationships have been ended by death or time, so the thought of having an SO, especially an immortal one, would terrify him. Contrary to popular thinking, I think Venti would want an SO who is mortal. 60-70 years of bliss, forever immortalized in song, and out of reach from the claws of the Heavenly Principles. 

What Venti didn’t know he wanted was an SO who was an artist themselves. He was so used to being the performer, the one expected to entertain the audience with story and song. With just a little instruction (and maybe a blessing made on a bet) they were already able to rival Venti’s prowess with a lyre. It made quite the stir in Mondsadt, as Venti had been unmatched for years, and soon fan clubs were formed. Whether they were being shipped or slandered, there was none who could deny the inherent chemistry between Venti and his rival. In fact, there was no clear confirmation on their relationship until Venti drank nearly half of the Angel Share’s stock on a dare and kissed them full on the mouth. And even then the heated debate persisted. Until one day, they climbed on top of the church and belted out a serenade for all of Monstadt to hear before proposing to their “cheeky, bird-brained, bastard who also happens to be the love of their life”. Yeah, Venti may or may not have caused a mini hurricane to knock them off their feet so he could sweep them away to Starsnatch Cliff. 

Venti is flirty, but after he starts seriously courting his SO he noticeably tones it down. Creative and blush-inducing complements to his audience were still common, but nothing truly improper. In private… he shared an ungodly amount of characteristics with those cats he’s allergic to. Spoiled with kisses and cuddles, demanding when he goes without their attention for more than a few minutes, and if they’re open to it, always ready for more exciting activities. Like stated previously, Venti doesn’t want his SO to be immortal. As much as their death will hurt, at least he was able to make sure that their short life ended peacefully and with a full heart. He will sing your songs and tell the tale of the two bards who had captured each other’s hearts. Besides, even he will return to the winds one day. And then will be able to reunite with them, and all of his old friends. 

Razor- 

Honestly, Razor’s concept of a romantic relationship between two humans is either completely nonexistent or radically underdeveloped. He’s seen wolves court and mate (Though Andrius keeps Razor away during mating season. Young pups should not witness such things) so I think that any kind of romantic action would just come off as heavily platonic or familial. He’s never thought about finding any sort of life-partner, all he wants is to protect his family, so whatever vague idea of an SO or “mate” Razor has would involve him taking care of them and being taken care of in turn. 

What Razor didn’t suspect was that his SO would be so willing to be accepted into his Lupical. While he had friends like Bennett and Klee who were nice to him whenever they saw him around, but most people still tended to avoid Razor. It hurt a bit, but as long as Razor had his Lupical and his friends, he never gave anyone else much thought. Until one day, he found an adventurer freeing a wolf cub who had gotten its paw stuck in a hunting trap. Such traps should not have been so close to the wolves’ territory, and Razor found out later that they had come on a commission from the Knights to investigate. However, Razor noticed how in the process of freeing and bandaging the pup, they had torn open their hands. He had immediately gone looking for Wolfhook, and waited until night when they had fallen asleep to sneak in and apply the berry paste. He didn’t want to frighten them, and instead opted to watch over them while they slept. He fell asleep sometime during the early morning, and only awoke to the smell of meat cooking. He opened his eyes to see the adventurer watching him from the opposite side of the fire, a plate of berries and steaming meat set near him. 

Razor was quickly enamored by the lone adventurer. They were a new recruit, and had actually heard of Razor from Katheryne when they accepted the commission. Over time, the adventurer ended up taking every opportunity possible to visit Razor. The boy’s excitement whenever he caught their scent on the wind never lessened, and both of them often spent nights in the middle of Wolvendom in blissful silence. Razor never felt like he had to talk much around them, and the same could be said of them. The two were able to discern most of what they needed to from body language, facial expressions, and scent in Razor’s case at times. It didn’t take long for them to be introduced to the rest of Razor’s Lupical. The pup they had rescued recognized them immediately and spent the entire evening receiving head scratches. As midnight approached, the older wolves nudged Razor towards their slumped over form. They had passed out with most of the pups on top of them, and Razor immediately curled up behind them with his chin resting over their exposed neck protectively. Just as he had watched the wolves do with their mates. 

Albedo- 

Wow. Kinda a mix of Kaeya and Razor; he is flirty (His teapot voice lines startled a blush out of me the first time I heard them) but way more subtle about it. But I also don’t think he has ever seriously considered a romantic relationship with someone. While the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, who could he possibly meet who would be compatible with him? His personal identity as a homunculus and a creation of Rhinedottr means he is already a nonhuman entity, and his title as Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist and his work keeps most of his relationships strictly professional. Even his friendships are mostly cordial, though he does enjoy the company of others at times. This man is always doing something, so entertaining romantic notions for anyone has never entered the picture. However, I think he would like a SO similar to Fanon!Traveler Lumine (And I’m not just saying this because I’m on the Albelumi ship I promise). Someone who managed to catch Albedo’s attention would need to have something inherently unique about them. Someone who manages to keep his attention on them for a significant period of time would have to have an equally appealing, lighthearted personality that practically lit up the room whenever they walked in.

What Albedo did not expect from his SO was someone who showed so much care for him. Someone who is curious about Albedo’s work, even if they don’t fully understand it. Someone who may not understand art, but recognizes the effort Albedo puts into his drawings. Someone who invites (read: coerces) Albedo out of his lab to go eat at Good Hunter or take the evening off to relax at Angels Share. Their occupation and background doesn’t mean much to him personally, the information is only relevant if it pertains to their health or behavior. Only one issue with this set up, even if feelings are completely reciprocated. Albedo has no clue what these feelings are and where they are coming from and will spend far too much time deliberating on what he should do to them. Much to the exasperation of all of the Knight and his fellow alchemists. Once Albedo does a full analysis of himself (bloodwork, brain scans, chemical analysis, a few experiments to see how he reacts to certain stimuli, this man is nothing if not thorough) he will come to the conclusion that he is in love. (Sucrose sighs when Albedo brings the test results to her.) And he immediately launches himself into a new kind of research. He asks around about the best way to confess, and eventually decides to cultivate a new species of flowers specifically for them and then just cut to the chase over a private picnic under the stars. This man already has no filter, so once he manages to correctly identify the emotions he is feeling, the length of time between then and the actual confession would be much shorter. 

Those flowers Albedo cultivates in their honor would be everywhere once his SO admitted their feelings were mutual. He dedicated an entire section of the alchemists’ greenhouse to them and ordered for no one else to touch them except for him. They would find the flowers in their hair, in between books, scattered around Albedo’s workspace, and somehow in their house. Similar to Diluc, the few times Albedo and his SO were out together in public people would know that they’re dating, but beside the fact that the two were almost always holding hands and the occasional peck on the cheek, neither were overly affectionate in public. Albedo would also be incredibly flexible in private when it came to their dynamic. He likes both giving and receiving affection and doesn’t really have a preference as long as he can spend as much time as possible in their company when he’s not working. They like to follow him on his expeditions to Dragonspine, mainly for the excuse to snuggle with Albedo every night when they get cold. The rest of the Knights adjusted well to Albedo’s SO, even if Sucrose needed to take on more work at times so Albedo could spend more time with them. The Knights closest to Albedo watched with fascination as the typically workaholic alchemist actually took lunch breaks, got in late, and left the moment he was satisfied with the progress of his experiments. What they don’t see is how the way he treats his SO in private is almost reverent. They are his muse, his lover, and his eternal companion (because unlike Venti, Albedo would 100% find a way for his SO the share his lifespan if they so chose to) and in one of his dark moments, Albedo realizes just how much he would ruin if it meant they stayed safe. 

Also, Alice would 100% show up for the first time in years just to help her son get ready for his first date. 

Haven’t played Bennett’s hangout quest yet and don’t know enough about his character so I will probably post him with another nation once I get around to it. 

I’ll get around to doing Liyue if enough people decide they like this.

[halloweenbitch2764]

I am not sure if there is a limited number of characters. If so, just do the bachelors. If not, do both bachelors and bachelorettes.

If you do reactions/headcanons, a reaction to finding out how strong the farmer is would be amazing. I love the idea of the farmer from Stardew Valley being inhumane strong, but most of the towns people doesn't know it.

I will do my best! Also, you're dating in these just FYI. Heart event spoilers!!

Alex

You were hanging out with Alex outside of his house as you tended to

You had finished all your chores for the day already

"Want to take Dusty for a walk?" Alex offered since you two really weren't doing much else

You nodded, and Alex got Dusty's collar and leash from inside

When he came back out, you had already coaxed Dusty to the edge of the fenced-in area.

"Don't worry about getting him out, I got it." Alex stated but you were already leaning down

You supported Dusty as you picked him up and set him down outside of the fenced-in area

It didn't take much effort

Alex stared in amazement, collar and leash grasped in hand

"What?" You asked as you pet Dusty

"You're, like, super strong!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction

Sam

Sam had decided to come visit you while you were working on your farm

You still had some chores to finish up

Sam watched curiously as you did your chores

Feeding the animals, milking the cows, collecting eggs, etc.

A bale of hay sat in the corner of your barn

You decided to move it and hoisted it onto your shoulder, balancing it and carrying it somewhere new

It was just taking up space in the barn anyways

You didn't notice Sam who was watching intently

He didn't know how much the bale weighed but he could tell it wasn't something to scoff at

"Woah." He murmured to himself

Shane

You, Shane, and Jas were hanging out as you tended to do

It was a warm sunny day and you had finished most of the work on your farm

Jas had mostly been playing while you and Shane conversed

Jas had seemingly become bored and wanted some attention

You would have never assumed she liked attention as much as she did before you got to know her

She did seem like the quiet type

"Hold me!" She playfully demanded

And who were you to deny her?

"She's kind of-" Shane started

You picked her up with ease, hoisting her to your shoulders and balancing her

"-heavy..." Shane trailed off

He couldn't believe how easily you picked Jas up, much less tossed her around playfully

Even he struggled sometimes

You giggled at his reaction, and Jas giggled from the attention

"She seems pretty light to me." You teased, which caused Shane to blush

Harvey

You were hanging out with Harvey in the clinic while he finished up some work

He looked over at a piece of equipment and sighed

"What's wrong?" You questioned

"I just need to move that machine over a ways."

"I got it!" You volunteered, hopping up from the chair and going to the machine

"No, it's okay-"

"Don't worry about it Harvey, I'll be careful."

You knew he was worried about your well-being as per usual

He sat back down in his chair

"Just tell me where you want it."

You moved the equipment with ease, putting it where instructed

Harvey had a blush on his face, seemingly enarmoured by your strength

"What?" You questioned

"Just glad to see you're in good physical health." He waved his hand a bit

You internally giggled

Elliot

Elliot had decided to rearrange his furniture while you were over one day

He was struggling to push his piano over to the new spot

"Let me try!" You offered cheerfully

He seemed hesitant but nodded and stepped aside

You took your position and moved the piano to the new spot easily

It seemed effortless to Elliot

He was speechless

You saw the expression on his face and quirked your eyebrow

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Just didn't think you'd be able to move that so easily. That was quite impressive!"

You smiled, blushing slightly from the praise before waving your hand

"It was nothing."

Sebastian

You were hanging out with Sebastian at his house when Robin called for you

"I'm sorry to bother you, but can you help me move some of this wood?" Robin asked

You nodded happily and Sebastian followed you two, knowing he could help if needed

Not that he was particularly strong but he assumed it would be better than nothing

You easily lifted the wood (which was heavier than it looked) and moved it to the small pile that had been started

When you were done Robin offered to compensate you for your work but you told her it was okay

Sebastian was speechless

He knew you were strong, but you were stronger than he thought

"You're stronger than I thought you were." He complimented

You blushed and smiled

"Guess it's from working on the farm."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Between the Pages

Summary: grappling with his violent past, Ettore is unexpectedly challenged by the silence of his unassuming cellmate | Word Count: 3.4k~ | warnings: mentions of noncon as a crime, violence

A/N: I've been wanting to kind of do a character heavy fic for a while since I read the interview about Ettore coming of age aboard the ship, so enjoy my take on it 😘

The darkness nibbled at the edges of him. From his feet and fingers, to his ankles and wrists, up his arms and legs. 

It curled deep in his gut, sliding around like oil inside, slick with a morbid curiosity that had lingered there for years. It crept up, weaving through his arteries and veins like vines, choking what purity there used to be, an innocent ignorance, and tainting it, into a sort of murky, sunless void.

He thought that once, he was capable of feeling anything else. Perhaps once, he was capable of love. Of some kind of affection. Maybe even deserved it.

After all, the ones you loved unconditionally, were supposed to give that same love back.

Right?

The day that darkness reached his heart, sucking the soul out of it like the way tendons and fat stick to meat as it’s torn up into chunks, was the day that Ettore understood this truth. Nobody was entitled to love. Not even him. And those people who were supposed to care, supposed to protect him, had abandoned him. What use was there in hoping for it now? He thought so often to himself. 

His body felt so heavy, felt so fucking heavy. The hatred marinated inside. Festered. What was there to do, but simply let it stay and rot? To allow it to become you.

How foolish of him to think that those who participated in making him, who chose to bring him into existence, would be able to give him the nourishment and support he wanted. That he needed. It was a story so often heard. That caregivers cared not about the people they assisted in bringing into this world. Their own children. At first, he admitted, he brushed it off.

It’s just the way my family is. Every family has different dynamics.

Until he couldn’t remember the last time his father had ever spoken to him. And then he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him. And then finally, his face. How he spoke. How he rolled up his cigarettes. He only remembered the smell of him. Fusty and deep. Like how old pubs smell. And the stench of whisky on his breath and yellowed teeth. 

He remembered being on the end of his fist most often. 

And when he was gone, though it was softer, he remembered then the palm of his mother’s. She didn’t have the strength of his father’s, but all the bite.

Trying to stay out of her way proved difficult most days. More often than not, he’d be out, even in the midst of winter as the wind nipped at his bones and the chill sank into his skin, he didn’t want to see the hysterical, screaming mess of a woman that was once his mother to be the first thing he came across when he got home. God forbid she ever spotted him.

He thought she must have thought he looked too similar to his father or something like that. Perhaps it was the eyes, the temperament or the expression. He hoped, somewhere deep, that it was perhaps the crime. Then there may have been some explanation for the way he was.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t figure it out for the life of him, so it was often easiest, to be out of her eyeline altogether. He wasn’t much better at staying out of trouble outside the confines of his home. Out there, in the big, wide world that he was so underprepared for, it was still difficult to be accepted. People had to want to be his friend, after all.

Eventually, he just didn’t even try. Though there was still a desire for acceptance, one he didn’t get by befriending men of a similar age and temperament to him. 

It felt only right, that he used the only things he felt he had, to his advantage. Looks. Talk. Confidence. Three things he was never short on.

And also the three things that fed easily into how he coped and how he eventually morphed into the person he was today. The looks got him into women’s beds, and in between their thighs too. The talk got them to stop fighting, to stay still and let him have his way. The confidence was the one thing in the end that worked to his disadvantage, thinking that the ones who he’d let get away wouldn’t say anything, and the ones he kept quiet by clamping his hands around her tiny, little necks, would inevitably fade away into non-existence. 

He still remembers the way their blood roared against his palms, how their breaths stuttered in his grip, and that addictive wide-eyed look, and the slow, blinking fade of life from their eyes. He thought there was nothing more powerful than holding someone’s very life-blood in his grip, and that was when he knew the rot had taken hold inside him. 

If he could, he would have wiped every judgemental glare off everyone in the courtroom that day. What use was there in pretending to be remorseful, as if he didn’t savour the memory of choking the hell out of those women with his dick so deep inside them still he could feel the way their bodies tried to reject him. Those are the memories he thinks of in those lonely nights in the Box. Those are the cold dark hands that drag him further and further. Until perhaps there is nowhere further to go.

Which is why she confuses him. His cellmate sleeps above him, a woman who he has strangely paid little attention to and can’t for the life of him figure out why. The narrow confines of their shared cell, with its cold, steel surfaces and harsh fluorescent lights, force a proximity that is usually unbearable for him. Yet, with her, there is an unspoken truce that puzzles him further.

There is a suffocating silence in the cell at night. Ettore’s usual trigger lay dormant for a while, an uneasy peace reigning in the small, padded space he shares with her. Unlike the other women aboard the ship, callous, loud and obnoxious, this woman keeps to herself, hovering just beyond the reach of his understanding.

Each day that goes by, he tries to solve the puzzle that she is. Why doesn’t she flinch at his gaze? Why doesn’t she cower? It’s as if she moves through a different realm, her demeanour calm, almost detached, unaffected by the chaos that typically surrounded him and the others alike, or the violence he is known for. 

She is a question without an answer, unsettling him more with each passing day. He sometimes imagines her figure from his bottom bunk, and how she would look while she sleeps, often with her eyes glued to the pages of a book. And he knows from the gentle thud of her tired hand and the half-opened novel on the mattress, that she has likely exhausted herself to sleep from reading and straining in the dark.

So he starts to look for signs, any clue that might explain her indifference, her silence. But she gives nothing away, her routine meticulous and quiet. When she reads, she never looks up. He supposes there is no reason for her to. Does anyone even know her name? Or do they do what he used to do, and just pretend she never existed in the first place? Perhaps that’s where she feels most comfortable.

It gnaws at him more than any confrontation could. His history with women was fraught with aggression, violence and brutality, but it provides no playbook for this experience. There is no anger in her silence, no fear. She merely exists in a state of complete neutrality, leaving him to wonder why she is even in prison in the first place. This indifference to life itself, it seems, is more disarming than any verbal or physical challenge. 

He hopes for a flicker of annoyance when he makes too much noise coming back to their shared cell some nights. But nothing. He hopes for the one day she glances up from her book, eyes clear and calm, as if nothing is wrong. 

She was like a candle unlit. A sheet of snow upon the ground without a fault or a footstep to taint it. Like a notebook you kept but didn't have the heart to write in for the first time, for the fear of ruining the very first page.

So it is that night, he lays with his hands behind his head, ever kept in a state of wide-eyed curiosity, when he hears the familiar thud of her tired hand dropping her novel. She never seems annoyed when she loses her place in her story, she simply gets up in the morning, and places something flat where she thinks she was, and is more than happy to start all over again. 

Despite the silence, his mind races, thoughts swirling and colliding in the shadows. He’s grown accustomed to the rhythms of their cohabitation, the sound of her breathing, the slight shifts of her body in the bunk above him, the soft rustle of pages turning. These sounds punctuate his nights, a constant reminder of her presence.

And yet, tonight, there’s a different kind of awareness, a curiosity that edges toward something he can’t quite name. It’s not desire, not the kind he’s known before, which was always tangled with aggression and control. This is something else, something quieter, more invasive. He wants to see her as she sleeps, to witness her in a moment of unguarded vulnerability, not to disturb or dominate, but to understand.

This thought, this need to see her face relaxed in sleep, strikes him with a pang of guilt. Even in the dim light of self-awareness, he recognises that this impulse feels like a violation, an intrusion into her silent world. He’s used to taking space, not just physically but emotionally, imposing his will on others as a way to affirm his existence. But with her, the dynamics are different. She offers nothing to conquer, only a silence to be filled, and in that silence, his own reflections become too loud, too clear.

Lying there, Ettore wrestles with the pull of his curiosity and the weight of his past. He knows too well the darkness that lives within him, the ease with which he could turn a moment of curiosity into something far more sinister. The battle within him is a quiet one, but intense. The thought of crossing the boundary, even just to see her in her sleep, stirs a deep-seated fear that he might revert to the man he was, the man he still is, underneath the surface of this uneasy peace.

His limbs move as if detached from his will. He places one hand on the cold metal of the ladder, then another, his movements slow, deliberate. Every rung of the ladder creaks softly under his weight, a grim soundtrack to his betrayal of self-promises. His heart pounds in his ears, not with excitement, but with a dread that feels both foreign and familiar.

As he ascends, each step feels heavier, burdened not by physical weight but by the gravity of his intentions. He pauses halfway, his body tensed, his mind screaming for him to retreat. But the pull is too strong, the need to see her, to understand why she affects him so profoundly, why she can exist so close to him yet remain a world apart.

Reaching the top, Ettore pauses, barely breathing. He is close enough now to hear her gentle breaths, the soft exhale of sleep that seems so at odds with the storm raging in his soul. She is a portrait of peace, her eyelids fluttering slightly with dreams he cannot begin to fathom. He yearns to understand her not because she is an enigma, but because in her quiet resilience, he sees a reflection of what he might have been, what he still could be. It's a longing not only to understand but also to be understood, to be seen not as the sum of his past actions but as the person he struggles to become.

He approaches her bunk with a reverence that surprises him. As he lays down gently beside her, he is acutely aware of the sanctity of the moment, of her trust not to be breached and of his own resolve not to revert to the man he knows he really is deep down. 

But there is a vulnerability that is roused in him when he watches her like this, and he doesn't recognise or like it one bit. It'd be so easy to just wrap his hands around her neck, like he had done before so instinctively, and be rid of her. Maybe then he wouldn't question this side of himself that has bubbled to the surface.

The mere idea of putting his fingers around her throat has adrenaline soaring in his veins.

But Ettore pulls back from the precipice of this dark impulse almost as quickly as it arises. The primal, instinctual urge to eliminate what confuses him, to destroy rather than confront, surges within him, his hands tensing at his sides. Yet, as he watches her, her chest gently rising and falling with each breath, he finds himself caught in a storm of conflicting emotions.

It's horrifying, the ease with which violence still beckons to him. The quiet, once a cloak she wrapped around herself, now envelops him too. The battle is not with her, not even with the world outside, but inside. But this realisation does not bring peace. Far from it.

Feeling as if his heart in his throat, his palm hovers above her body, starting from her legs. He is trembling, leaving an inch of space that feels like a chasm. And yet he can feel the heat of her form, as if radiating from her skin and pulsing into his.

He passes over her hips, his eyes zeroed in on a slither of skin that has become visible beneath her sleeping shirt. It beckons to him like a test of his will. If she were anyone else, one hand would hold her down, while the other would rip her sweatpants off and-

He clenches his fist tight, his eyes mirroring the struggle. Every moment he chooses restraint, he is redefining himself.

And yet as he descends the steps down from her bunk, she hadn't moved an inch and the prospect of her being a deep sleeper makes the intrusive desire to do this again ever more prevalent. It doesn’t reassure him at this point, rather it feeds into the dangerous allure of doing it again, and again, and again.

And each time in the days following, what he does becomes more bold, skirting around the edges of darkness he knows full well lurks beneath. He waits every night for the thud of her book on the bed, for her quiet breathing to let him know that it is safe to venture into what feels like dangerous territory.

Hovered hands become soft brushes against her flesh. Initially, these contacts are mere brushes, fleeting and barely there, against her arms, perhaps unintentionally grazing her leg, or the slope of her shoulder. With each night, his touches grow slightly more deliberate, and when he has straddled that line too closely and she stirs or readjusts, he feels his heart quicken and chest tighten. Sometimes he almost wants her to wake up, just to see what he would instinctively do.

This dangerous game continues, each touch a test of his self-control. His fingers linger a moment too long on the soft skin of her cheek one night, the warmth of her breath against his hand, and the next day he struggles to even glance in her direction alongside the torrent of emotions within him. The fear that he is becoming the monster he dreads appears more real than ever. The very act of touching her in her sleep, though innocent, yet an invasion of her privacy and autonomy, is a stark reminder of the control he once wielded without thought.

He understands now that this cannot continue. The path he is on, though it started with a quest for understanding and connection, is veering dangerously close to old patterns that had once felt familiar. And yet with her of which he cannot even envision.

He knows the only way to break this cycle, to truly change, is to confront the situation directly and honestly. No more silent, uninvited intrusions in the dark; he needs to face her in the light, to speak to her and gauge her response, to decide his next steps based on a genuine interaction rather than his own conjectures and impulses.

All the scenarios run rampant in his mind, stealing every quiet moment in his day to day life seemingly without effort. 

He is desperate to hear her voice, just for him, a sound to anchor the whirlwind inside.

If he speaks and she glances up from between her precious pages, with a look of fear, judgement, anger…there just might still be violence screaming in his gut. He imagines, with a chilling clarity, how he might react. To watch those eyes that have never landed upon him, wide-eyed and panicked with fear, her hands that would usually hold those delicate covers as if they were sentient, thrashing and scratching at his skin for escape.

However, if her eyes meet his with calmness, a soft but unyielding clarity, it might signal a different path. Such a look could secure him, pull him back from the brink, offering a glimpse of a different kind of interaction, one rooted in mutual respect rather than fear.

Throughout the day, Ettore wrestles with the decision to approach her at an unusual time, a moment outside their routine interactions, which are typically defined by the unspoken boundaries and silent acknowledgements of shared space. The weight of this choice, loaded with the potential for a shift in their dynamic, presses on him.

Finally, as the day bleeds into evening, he steels himself and walks towards their cell, a path he has traversed countless times yet now feels distinctly different. His footsteps echo slightly in the empty corridor, a hollow sound that seems to beat in rhythm with his anxious heart. He pauses at the doorway, his hand resting against the cold metal frame for a moment. He had never been short on confidence, until right this moment.

She is there, as always, perched on her bed with a book cradled in her lap, her attention fully absorbed by the pages. The familiar sight of her, so engrossed in her literary world, momentarily steadies him. "Hey," he calls out softly, his voice slightly rough around the edges from the turmoil inside him.

At the sound of his voice, she looks up, her expression shifting from concentrated reading to mild surprise. Her eyes meet his, clear and calm, carrying none of the fear or judgement he had feared. "Hey," she responds simply, her voice a quiet echo to his own.

In that brief exchange, just a single word spoken by each, there's a palpable shift. It's not a definitive answer to all his internal questions, but it grants him a moment of reprieve from his fears of eliciting a negative reaction. So he stands there, momentarily rooted to the spot by the simplicity and normalcy of her response. And it is this moment where her eyes are piercing right into him that he is offered his first real glimpse into her as well. Features he had usually seen undisturbed by the quiet of sleep felt familiar and yet uncharted now, such as the flutter of her eyelashes and the decorating of freckles across her cheeks, and the small, curious pupils looking between his eyes as if for an answer.

Realising he's been standing silent for too long, Ettore scrambles mentally for something to say, to break the growing awkwardness that feels almost like a first encounter. His lips part, ready to forge some semblance of normal conversation.

No sooner are his lips parted that he is rendered into silence he once would have expected from her. She dog-eared the page, closed her book off her lap and brushed her hair from her face, and spoke with a soft tone laden with genuine concern. It feels like an invitation, a door opening to endless possibilities where she has seen past the facade of toughness to the raw, uncertain man beneath. She invites him into a space where he can be vulnerable, and yet he is still unsure if he even wants to be there. Can those raging, endless violent impulses ever be quieted by just a couple of words?

“You okay?”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy

@justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3

[hamcakevaletguy]

My thoughts on the Damien situation, from the POV of someone who’s relatively uninvolved with posting on social media:

As a newer fan of Smosh myself (I watched some videos in 2012, but haven’t really kept up since, and only started regularly watching the last year or so), I went through the backlog of content that they have because I enjoyed their more recent videos. Zayna, a newer Palestinian fan, did the same and found this joke in an old TNTL disappointing and wanted him to address it firsthand and make his stance clear.

For anyone saying Damien has already made it clear that he is in support of Palestine: it’s not a given that the fan who brought up the clip would have already known about Damien’s stance on Palestine. Yes, he’s talked about it in a couple of his streams and posted Insta stories about it, but a newer fan of Smosh, not necessarily Damien himself, wouldn’t know about those unless they were looking for it because they are:

temporary (IG stories only have a lifespan of 24 hours unless you take screenshots) or

a few minutes hidden under several hours of game streams on a separate platform (he talked about Palestine several months ago and has streamed a lot since, unless you know the specific Twitch stream and the timestamp when he talked about it or had clips of it, most casual fans wouldn’t know either)

In his defense, Damien himself has recently said that more fandom stuff has reached his timeline than he would like, so maybe he thinks more people know about his activism because of that. However, even if Zayna did know, wanting a straightforward statement apologizing for the insensitive joke (because bringing up the "Israeli-Palestinian conflict" [as it was called back in 2019, not accurate to what has been going on for 70+ years and counting, which is an ethnic cleansing] for shock value, as he himself said, is insensitive) is not an unreasonable request.

More under the cut

When all you have is 240 characters per reply, the things that you do choose to say matter even more. When you parse out everything in Damien's replies, he doesn't come out looking too good. Yes, he did apologize for the original joke. In his replies, he said:

using it as shock value was in poor taste and naive of him,

it was in poor taste back in 2019 and he wouldn't make it now

(in response to his first couple of replies) he is sorry for reacting in frustration and he'll learn from it,

and, in his final reply, his parting words were "With all my heart, I hope for safety for your loved ones. Be well."

However, he also says and does things that undermine his apology in the same replies:

questioning why the clip was brought up in the first place, as if bringing up old content wasn't something fans regularly do with things they're interested about and as if it's not still a public video fans can easily find,

bringing up that the fan in question had 19K followers, a fraction of the followers he has as a public figure,

saying that this conversation could have been done in private, as if an initial DM request wouldn't be buried in his other requests as a public figure, and as if he doesn't have the capability to start a DM himself to clarify things after the initial reply/post,

saying that the original tweets tagging him should have been deleted after his first response when he never asked for that, and just assumed it would happen for some reason,

deleting his replies a couple of hours later,

and blocking Zayna and several others who were only interacting with Damien through quote tweets (I'm not sure how quote tweets work, do they notify the OP?), some who don't even say anything remotely critical of him - in his defense, blocking is not inherently a bad thing, it just means that he doesn't want any further interactions from them for whatever reason. However, silencing any Palestinian voice isn't good, to say the least.

Damien has always been a proponent of “trying to understand and see from different perspectives” so his response here surprised me, personally. I get that he has a fear of being misunderstood, but jumping to the conclusion that the other party is purposefully trying to be incendiary is the opposite of that.

I'm not going to try to make excuses for him. He knows better. He's been a content creator for years. He knows he has more influence than any normal fan would. His autism is not a part of this conversation either. Mental illness is an explanation for behavior, it doesn't absolve you of the consequences of it. If you're citing Damien's autism as an excuse for his behavior, you have to also account for Zayna's autism.

People are also bringing up the possibility of Damien getting death threats as a result of this, which we have no proof of and won't have proof of unless Damien himself decides to disclose that. He has only stated that he is taking a social media break, which has been a long time coming, not necessarily only because of this, because he has been busy and tired in recent months. What we do know has happened is that Zayna has received death threats (weird of people to want the death of a Palestinian when the original argument they're defending Damien for is that he is in support of Palestinian liberation).

This isn’t an issue of cancel culture, it’s an issue of accountability and frankly, hero worship of Damien in the part of people attacking Zayna and other people on Twitter.

When the only people who had spoken about their support of Palestine in their own words, however briefly, are two or three cast members, some people are naturally going to put them on pedestals. This hero worship of Damien has been exacerbated by his image as the most politically correct member of Smosh, and Smosh’s (until recently) silence about the issue.

While we're at it, for people saying Smosh's sudden outward support for Palestine and joining Creators for Palestine is in response to backlash about Damien, or only in response to the block list going around:

It's only been a few days since the Damien's whole ordeal. Smosh is not that fast, and historically, their response to backlash would have been either complete radio silence or unlisting or privating the TNTL that the clip is from, combined with silence.

I’m sure Shayne, Ian and Courtney have been working on it for more than a few days, based on their liked posts, to get everything straightened out with the organization themselves and adding their names to the list of creators.

People have been asking for Smosh to be more public about their views on Palestine. Some of the cast members have said their piece on their personal social media, but their views could have changed. Those posts were made shortly after the events of October 7 brought even more media attention on Palestine and the Gaza Strip, which was not necessarily in favor of Palestine because of the effects of U.S. propaganda. It's been several months since then and people have a lot more information now, and more clarity.

Up until now, the only indication of Palestinian support not from social media is a brief statement from Ian who said something along the lines of "travel watermelon", while they were talking about their rejected roasts during Anthony's Funeral After Show in December, which are codewords that were used in TikTok for Free Palestine. However, this is heavily censored, behind a paywall, and temporary, because of the nature of their live shows. This support of CFP is the bare minimum of what Smosh could do, but the bare minimum is more than they were doing before.

They listed Smosh as the name under their $15,000 donation to CFP, not just Shayne, Courtney and Ian, which could be intentional, referring to Smosh as a whole company, or just referring to the three that have posted about it as a collective. Unless Smosh makes a full statement about it, themselves, it's still up in the air.

The timing of it is unfortunate. Damien has been silent about it so far, making his original posts about Palestine seem performative to some. However, it’s only been a few hours and he is on a social media break. The only thing he has briefly gone back online for is to promote something he's doing with Nintendo, which he could have been contractually obligated to do. He may or may not say something when he fully comes back from his social media break, but for now, that's everything we know. People can make their own conclusions based on all of this.

I am being very intentional with every single word I say on here, as to not be misconstrued in any way, however, if I missed anything or anyone else has anything to add (constructively, like images of either the actual conversation had by Damien and Zayna, or the cast and crew's support of Palestine prior to CFP, not outright anger and disagreement), please do. If anyone has any genuine questions about the situation, please feel free to message me directly and not bring it into this post, which is supposed to be a civil discussion surrounding more facts and events, less speculation. If I feel those questions have relevant points to add on here, I will add on in reblogs.

[izfrogzy]

Soft and Innocent Part III 18+ Aemond x Sister Reader(OC.)

Warnings: 18+ content, Masturbation and envisioning and lusting for OCSister.

A/N: Part III is a steamy part.....I hope I did good I'm stepping my toe in the smut aspect of writing in the fandom so be easy on me.....but please enjoy if you like....Again There may be grammar mistakes and inaccuracies with certain characters so just think of this of a AU scenario. A bit short....but still steamy and saucy if you ask me.

Part IV in the works now

Later that night….Aemond was alone in his bedchambers thinking as he was brooding by the fireplace he typically found himself staring towards….as the flames seem to put him in a trance each time he found himself before the hearth like this.

He thought back to him and his sister. How she clung to him and her tear-filled eyes. How his heart began to feel warm and full of love when he held her and promised to keep her safe. And how she looked so beautiful even when in tears. Aemond’s jaw tensed as he felt a feeling of longing and desire stirring within him. He felt ashamed of having such thoughts. It was so very wrong for a brother to feel this way for his sister....yet for some reason, he could not help himself. 

Every time he shuts his eyes, Aemond pictures his sister ... .Sweet….Soft and Innocent…Seanna…It was wrong but yet for some reason it was a guilty pleasure of his.

He saw her face in his mind's eyes. He saw her wide, big and beautiful violet eyes. He heard her voice as if it whispered to him softly. Aemond shuddered and closed his eyes tightly shut. It was wrong....but it made him feel....content. as he opened his eyes again he could almost swear that he saw her face in the flames of the fireplace. The feeling of longing stirring even more in his body.

He felt his body reacting to the thought of her as it typically did since she’s ripened and blossomed as of late into a woman.

he felt a tightening in his breeches as he recalled her sweet and innocent but somehow seductive face. The way her lips formed so perfectly as she talked and talked. The way they formed around his name as she called it out to him when she was upset. The way the fire light made it look as if her skin glowed gold. He closed his eyes as a groan left his mouth.

He began recalling his memory of the kiss he laid upon her forehead. Remembering how soft yet perfect her skin felt against his lips, and the way that she melted into the embrace. How she nuzzled up against his chest….in a way that a sister should not.

With the thoughts and images in his mind, he took one last look around his chambers before making sure the doors to his chambers were closed and almost all Candlelights were out. He moved over towards his bed and laid upon it. Closing his eyes as the image of her continued to fill his mind. He sighed as he began to move his hand down his body.

The Bedchambers were darkened mostly only alit was a few candles and the fireplace which filled the room with warmth a comfortable atmosphere mostly ... .and there laid Aemond upon his bed about to….well about to get comfortable it seems….and vulnerable too.

Aemond’s thoughts were consumed by his sister. He bit his bottom lip slightly as his hand began to move further down his body. He let out a groan as he began to push his breeches down, freeing himself from the tight constraint that had been bothering him for a while. He kept the image of her in his mind. Her wide violet eyes, her lips, skin, and most of all her loving embrace she gave as he comforted her when she was in her emotional states. Aemond gently grabbed ahold of his girth which had become very aroused.

He remembered the way she pressed herself up against him. How he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest ... .the way he could hear her breath and see her chest rising and falling with each breath. How her body seemed to feel….right against his. How she seemed to fit in his embrace so perfectly. Like they were two pieces to a puzzle. Aemond felt a shiver run through him as his hand started to slowly move up and down on the thickness of his girth.

He continued to recall how he could feel her breath and heartbeat against him….hearing her breathe out a whimper as she looked up at him with those big eyes…her lips were parted slightly letting out quick and shallow breaths as she….she seemed so vulnerable in that moment. So innocent and sweet. And she was. Aemond let out a loud groan as he started to move his hand slightly faster. He felt a tightness in his chest and he felt more guilty doing this.

He remembered how he leaned forward and nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck….his nose inhaled her sent….she carried a sweet scent with a hint of roses. Aemond opened his eyes as he could almost swear that he smelled her at this very moment. He could imagine how her hair would feel against his face too…so soft and smooth like the most finest velvets that existed in all the kingdoms. How he could run his hand through it.

“Lēkia.” Older Brother. A voice from within his mind the Valyrian word she’d use and call him by….her gentle sweet voice calling him out of affection and love

He let out a low groan as he heard the voice in his mind. That sweet and beautiful Valyrian voice he loved so much in his mind. He heard the word 'Lēkìa'. He felt as if she was whispering it into his ear. His grip became slightly rougher as he started to speed up. With the voice and his imagination he almost felt as if she was really there. It was almost….perfect..

“Lēkia.” ... .The voice said again sounding more like a moan like a desperate needy wanton girl for her lover to please her more from within his imagination as he continues his lustful actions this night.

He groaned as he heard the moan in her voice. He imagined her saying it just like that. The needy and wanton sound of how she moaned out the word almost like a whisper into his ear. It was all so much for Aemond. Feeling and hearing all this.

“Sister…” Aemond moaned out as he bit his bottom lip.

He imagined how she would have looked and sounded when they were alone. How she would have sounded as her face became flush with passion. How she would have sounded as she panted and gasped for air. How her fingers would have dug into his flesh as she held him, how her back would arch up as he made her feel so good.

“Please Lēkia More….” That imagined voice would say.

He groaned as the image of her came into his mind. Seeing her face full of pleasure. Her cheeks flushed bright. Her eyes closed shut as her mouth became open and she panted for air. He wanted to feel her body against his. He wanted to hold her and please her. To hear how she’d call out his name in the most intimate and passionate way. Just thinking about it made his body shiver.

He groaned louder. Feeling the sensation building in his body as his hand continued to move. He could hear the panting in his mind from the imagined voice. He could hear her voice growing more desperate as she would plead for more and more.

“Sister…Seanna.” He groaned as he began to say her name out loud.

He could feel himself nearing that edge. The feeling kept building and building. He just needed to keep moving just a little more. He could see her in his mind’s eyes and he could hear her voice moaning and pleading with him to keep going. Aemond groaned as he kept pumping his hand. The feeling was so strong now.

He began to pump faster. Her voice getting louder and louder in his mind. Her moans and needy gasps as she panted out for him to continue. He closed his eyes as it was all too much. All this pleasure and the knowledge of it being so wrong. He had never felt anything so intense like this….and it was because of his soft and innocent sister.

It was all coming to a head now as he bit back moans. His entire body tensed and relaxed as he kept moving his hand. The images and sounds consumed his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore and his body exploded and he was sent over that edge of ecstasy.

“Seanna….Seanna…Sister...Seanna.” He moaned out her name over and over again. Not caring if anyone heard him. He just needed to call out her name…His beloved Seanna.

The pleasure began to subside as he let out one last shiver. He lay there with his eyes closed….still seeing his sister in his mind, hearing her soft moans. As the after-pleasure feeling coursed through him. His breathing slowed and finally, he was calming back down again as the final wave of pleasure washed over him one last time.

he slowly opened his eyes…the image of her vanishing in his mind. And he was left alone in the silence. Only the sound of the fire crackling and the silence of the night. He slowly raised his clean hand up and held his face as he let out a weary sigh ... .the reality of his situation suddenly crashing upon him like a tidal wave.

“What have I done?”

He groaned softly as he felt the guilt and shame wash over him like a cold bucket of ice water. He slowly pushed himself up and off the bed to go and clean himself up. He felt disgusted with himself. He wanted to cry. No man should have such feelings for his own blood sisters. It was sinful. He felt unclean, wicked, like he needed to be burned by the Gods for his sins.

After he got cleaned up he pulled on a nightshirt before slipping back into bed and curling up on his side away from the fireplace. He felt guilty and ashamed and he wanted to cry. He felt conflicted and confused. How could anyone love their own blood siblings this way he thought….or at least he had never heard of it before. But then again the Targaryen’s were known for the ways of incest. He shut his eyes as he tried to push the thoughts away. But in the back of his mind they continued to creep back and take hold once more.

A/N: Stay tuned for Part 4 ;)

[smilesatdawnmain]

Ultimate Au Guide (LMK)

All my Lego Monkey Kid Au’s in one big post. ( i don't wanna talk about how long this took me. don't ask me. I'll cry...)

Warning: this thing is huge

This consists of current Au’s, future Au’s, Au’s of Au’s, and anything in between!

Current Au’s;

Taken

Summary: Wukong and Macaque unknowingly have twins. Before they can realize this miracle, one (MK) is Taken away to the human realm by Nezha. All to prevent the Jade Emperor from killing this child and starting another war.

This story focuses on Qi Xiaotian, the Monkey Prince, and young “human” orphan MK as the two try to reunite while also avoiding every third party force trying to use the two for their own personal gain.

Fanfic: Yes here is the link

Ships:

Red x Xiaoxiao (Xiaotian the twin, not MK) but… you know, there might be some MKxRedSon. (It’ll be dramatic, trust me)

Shadowpeach

FreeNoodles (Tang X Pigsy)

AzureLion x Ao Lie

My art:

First (From old account. It's crazy how much of a change my art and character design has come from this first post)

Older designs I really did love Xiaoxiao's outfit here though. I should bring it back. Maybe as his "he's discovered himself" outfit XD

This should lead to all art

Fanart:

forever-in-dreamland

shiomik

pumpk1nappl3p1

litt1e-prince

litt1e-prince (Xiaoxiao's room!)

sketchskelonkey

cinnamelrollin

jeez-a

clementine-shine

Status: Incomplete

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 6 or 7 /10

------

The Day the World Eclipsed

Summary: After losing his Mate and child 500 years ago, a miracle occurs when Sun Wukong is gifted with the return of his child, Qi Xiaotian. His little Star, his everything, Wukong dedicates himself to being a better Father and man. This is all tested when he is reunited with the reincarnations of his companions to the West and his long-lost Mate returned from the grave. Custody battles and shared parenting can be such a messy thing~

Fanfic: Yes, here is the Link

Ships:

-Shadow Peach (past mention, and then very slow burn forgiveness)

Spicy Noodles (possibly future, still under debate)

My Art:

First Piece (Still on my old account)

If I had to pick a cover for this au, it would be this (also on old account)

Older MK sneak peak

This will lead to all other art

Fan Art

lagt-duck

dumbbitch2-0

a-small-tired-lonely-potato 

crypticpaw

litt1e-prince

Status: Incomplete

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 4 or 5 /10

----

The First Gift

(One shot) (This does have a sequel underway)

Summary: A peek into Sun Wukong and Macaque's life before they join the Brotherhood to take down the Jade Emperor. Wukong's got a big plan under his sleeve, and Macaque has no idea. With the help of the Brotherhood, Wukong is positive his plan to ask Macaque to marry him will be flawless. (Spoiler; it isn't)

Fanfic: Yes, here it is!

Ships:

Shadowpeach

My Art: Amazingly I've never drawn anything for this one

Fan Art: None

Status: Completed

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 0/10 (it's super Fluff)

-----

Tragedy of Six

Summary: The world was never the same when The Lady Bone Demon attacked. By her hands, many were injured, and many more were killed. The Brotherhood could not escape this touch, losing their children to her conflict. Yet unknowingly, these same children survived. They are being raised by The Lotus Prince Nezha, who is being forced to train and prepare these children to be soldiers for the Lady Bone Demon. (And inspired Fic on both Taken and "Blood and Bones" by EmerialynCodeVenice)

Fanfic: Yes, here is the link

Ships:

Shadowpeaxh

Azure Lion X Ao Lie

Sandy X The Huntsman Spider

Any future ships with the 6 kids are up for debate and what the audience likes best

My Art:

Link This should lead to all art

Fan art:

violetjedisylveon

Status: Uncompleted

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 9/10

--------

Fix and Mend

Summary: Macaque is trying to find his way in the world and his current place in life. Getting himself a part-time job at Pigsy's Noodles he discovered two very interesting facts. 1, Wukong clearly has the hots for him, and 2, MK is secretly dating Red Son. Now he just needs to figure out what to do with these two tidbits.

Fanfic: Yes, here is the link~

Ships:

SpicyNoodles

ShadowPeach

My Art:

I amazingly only drew one thing for this one so far

Other Art:

Status: Incomplete

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 1/10

----

Choose Your Own Adventure

Summary: This is a Tumblr-focused Choose Your Own Adventure. Completely decided by the votes of the audience. The first two are basically a test to see how well I can do something like this.

Fanfic: No, but it is here on Tumblr

-First Adventure (Completed)

Second Adventure (In Progress)

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 2/10

----

Future Au’s:

Fading Moon

Summary: MK believes he is a normal human boy, with a normal human Dad, and normal not ancient Uncles. That is until he meets Red Son, the Demon Bull Prince, and the truth of his heritage starts to unfold. As well as discovering the unfortunate fate of his Baba, a person MK had never had the chance to meet until he was 19.

Fanfic: Not yet? A have a lot written for this though

Ships:

Traffic Light Trio~ (Red Son X Mei X MK)

Sandy X The Huntsman Spider

ShadowPeach (Past mention)

Macaque X Erlang (Not sure what this ship is called. Present mention.. and.. toxic version of it. This story is a whirlwind people)

Free Noodles~ (Slow burn~)

My Art:

I do have a master post just for this au since I plan it to be more tumblr focused for now Link

Fan Art: None currently

Status: Incomplete

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 6/10

--------

The Second Gift

(Squeal to The First Gift)

Summary: Being together with Wukong could bring Macaque no greater joy. No means or way could make his life better than where it was. After a strange occurrence with his magic, Macaque realizes happiness can always grow.

Fanfic: Not yet but it is slowly getting there~

Ships:

Shadow Peach

Gajasimha shipping (Azure X Yellow Tusk)

My Art: None yet

Fan Art: Nada~

Status: Still in progress

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 0/10 FLUFF BABY~

-------

Missing the Then and Now

Summary: Macaque wakes up with no memories of where he is, or WHO he is. The explanation for this is a large and very deep injury that wraps around his entire skull. Almost like something squeezed until he popped. Now, however, he finds himself on a ship with some Monkey Kid, his family and friends, and a sun-kissed Monkey King who won't stop looking at him. And what is worse, none of them want to explain how he got this way.

Fanfic: Nothing yet. But man the word doc is getting pretty hefty

Ships:

Shadow Peach (Past mention)

Shadow Peach (Slow burn/One-sided for a time?)

Macaque X The Mayor (past Mention) (this one is really wild guys.)

My Art: None so far

Fan Art: None so far

Status: It's on it's way

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 6/10

--------

Eternal

Summary: When Macaque was killed, he expected his soul to be taken to the Diyu. Instead, he finds himself stuck to Wukong- the very man who ended his life. When Soul collectors come to see what the hold up is, they inform him that as the two had been tethered in life, so too are they in death. Macaque will only ever be free when Wukong has found peace and moves on. This goes on for a long time, yet when Macaque feels the tether start to loosen, he panics and realizes- he doesn't want Wukong to let him go.

Fanfic: I have too many Word docs and this is one of them~

Ships: ShadowPeach

My Art: None yet

Fan Art: None Yet

Status: Stuck in the world doc abyss

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 7/10

-----

Torn Between A Star

(A sort of alternate direction for "The Day The World Eclipsed)

Summary: Macaque survives the fight against Wukong, forced to return home. Terribly weakened and knowing he could not defend the egg that housed Wukong and his child, he flees to his Sister- Princess Iron Fan. Together they live there until the child is born. 5 years later, Wukong's Journey To the West is done. Returning home to no mate or child, he is desperate to track them down and bring them home. A certain Bull King and Iron Fan stand in his way.

Fanfic: So... Word doc. Big one. Real sad.

Ships: Shadow Peach (Past mention and struggling with current romance)

My Art: There will be some

Fan Art: Maybe one day?

Status: THE DOC HAS IT IN IT'S CLUTCHES~

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 5/10

--------

When Lions and Dragons Meet

Summary: Taking place in the years of Wukong's Journey Westward, Wukong stumbles upon his Brothers. Wanting to settle things Wukong meets up with Azure Lion to find peace- and surprisingly finds it. For a second. That is until he finds out that Azure Lion has had... relations, with a certain Dragon that currently accompanies Wukong and the other Pilgrims in the form of a horse. And is not keen on letting Azure continue this courting.

Fanfic: I swear guys- I got- I got soo many words docs. There aint a fanfic but there will beeee one day.

Ships:

Azure Lion X Ao Lie

Shadow Peach (Kind of a mention?)

My Art You are getting some art. It's cute

Fan Art: ...I mean... if ya want to?

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 2/10

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Seen Through My Eyes

Summary: Wukong thought Macaque had abandoned him when he was trapped below the mountain. His Mate never visited, never once showed his face. Then, many years into his imprisonment, someone stumbles into his cave. They blindly feel around, unable to see anything in front of their face. To Wukongs shock, it's Macaque. His Mate's pure white fur is tainted black, his ears bigger than normal, and his eyes- his eyes are gone. He smiles, however, hearing Wukong's heart. "I finally found you".

Fanfic: None yet

Ships:

ShadowPeach

My Art: I personally drew some stuff but never posted it

Fan Art: I dare you all XD

Status: Sitting in a Google doc, festering away from the angst

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 8/10

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The choices we make, and the regrets we take with us

Summary: Lady Bone Demon had whispered a secret into MK's ear just seconds before Wukong arrived. Now safe from her clutches and seeking the Samadhi fire, surprisingly with Macaque helping them out, Wukong notices that MK can't stand to look at him. What had that Witch whispered to make MK's gaze so steely?

Fanfic: Nope~ Not yet~

Ships:

FreeNoodles

ShadowPeach (Past Mention)

My Art: Maybe one day.

Fan Art: None

Status: In my Google Docs and covered with sobbing emotions from the one person I let read it

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 9 or 10/10

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Au’s of Au’s:

I'll have you all know that ALL of these were given to me by YOU GUYS. You are to blame for putting these in my head! XD

UnTaken

Summary : A "What if" to my Taken Story. What if MK was never Taken and actually got a chance to grow up with Xiaoxiao and his parents? Xiaotian would probably be called Xiaohua in this one, and MK would go back to being Qi Xiaotian.

Fanfic: No, but it's on its way

Ships:

ShadowPeach

Azure Lion X Ao Lie

Red Son X MK? Maybe Red Son X Xiaohua? Maybe they both fight over him?? Maybe they share him?? I dunno yet.

Tang X Pigsy

My Art

This will lead to all art

Fan Art: Would be cute but none yet~

Status: Tumblr grown so far but I got a good amount of stuff written in a google doc

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 0 or 1 /10

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Taken Apprentice

Summary: Based on Taken once more, but with the twist that instead of taking MK to the human world, Nezha took MK with him to the celestial Realm. From there he raised MK himself as his apprentice. Hiding him with a glamor and instilling a misguided loyalty to the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor is insistent one of the twins must still die, but agrees to keep MK around, hoping to find a chance to kill the other twin instead and keep the loyal MK as his own bodyguard.

Fanfic: I... I don't think it'll be a fanfic. Like- Oh my gosh, so much writing. I wouldn't know how to stop.

Ships:

Shadowpeach, of course.

Probably Red Son X Xiaoxiao again

Some Azure Lion X Ao Lie

Uuuuuuuuu- other wise I dunno?

My Art

Only one thing so far

Fan Art: I would die if you did

Status: Tumblr based so far. I haven't written anything for this. I will only if begged and bribed.

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 4/10

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Taken Reverse/Swapped

Summary: Another Taken Au. XiaoXiao and MK are born, but instead of MK being taken Xiaoxiao is instead. He would be Xiaohua in this one. Xiaohua, who is abandoned at an orphanage, winds up being taken in by the Spider Queen when he shows promise as a thief. Xiaohua is iving the life of crime, while in return MK (Xiaotian) is being raised to follow in his Father's footsteps as a hero. The two eventually meet and clash.

Fanfic: I haven't even finished Taken there is no way XD

Ships:

Hmmmmmm. Mabe MK X Red Son?

Maybe Enemy to lovers Xiaoxiao X Red Son? I dunno

ShadowPeach

Sandy X Huntsman Spider

My art

The start of the madness

Fan Art (looks into your very soul)

Status: It exists in tumblr and thats it right now

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 4/10

------

Parent Trap

Summary: Based on Taken once more. Isn't quite like the normal LMK lore. When MK and his twin brother Xiaohua were babies, their parents separated, each taking one of the infants with them. MK went with Wukong, and Xiaohua with Macaque. When the two get older, they manage to miraculously meet at a Summer Camp and discover the truth. Now these two working on a plan to reunite their parents.

Fanfic .... T-There might be one in the future... maybe...

Ships:

ShadowPeach (Past Mention and reunion)

Ao Lie X Azure (Slow burn)

Macaque X Mayor (The kids are trying to end this one)

My art:

Only this so far

Fan art: None currently

Status: This one is in a word doc, okay?? There is writing on it!

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 2/10

-------

The cancelled Au’s??

Strange title I Know, but it’s the best way to describe this section

-The Day the World Eclipsed (the Original Plot)

-most may know this, but I changed the plot of the Story within the first few chapters. When Wukong left to head to the City, intent on finding a new home for his son… he was originally intended to go through with that.

I have Many MANY chapters of this unfolding- of Wukong actually going through with abandoning MK.

It was farrrr different than what the story has changed to now. And I love the direction the story is now going, but I had a lot of angst planned for the original :)

One day I might even post what originally was intended to happen.

Angst Rating: (1 being not that bad and 10 being it intending to stab you in the heart and twist)

Angst Rating: 10/10

---

You did it! You are at the end! Feel free to either comment here or ask in my ask box about any of these~!

[theladyofrosewater]

I have finally gotten Laurance's character sheet to a point where I'm actually okay with the result. I'll probably make some edits later. Character notes and lore undercut also content warning for general shadow knight stuff

Feel free to suggest the next character to get a character sheet!

I was aiming for a swimmers or acrobatic type of build for him so I tried to give him wider shoulders. I'm going to be basing all of the guard characters after some kind of sports athlete so feel free to give suggestions for future guards like Katelyn or Dante

In my rewrite Laurance was nearly torn in half (yikes) in the Nether and Sasha had to stitch him back together. He didn't fully die but his heart stopped for almost a minute before Sasha restarted it. Hence he got turned into a Shadow Knight although a lot more human than most

Laurance is missing part of his leg in my rewrite as well as being partially blind in one eye and this is from Ungrth's rescue mission, which sidenote I'm very tempted to mix wyverns and phoenixes together in my rewrite so that Laurance still loses his friend but is comforted by the fact that he'll be back someday.

His leg prosthetic is actually part of his shadow knight form and as a result he can get quite tired if he's on his feet all day. Dante and Garroth commissioned Kenmur to create a decent prosthetic for Laurance but the group disappears before Kenmur can finish it. Laurance uses a wooden crutch when he gets too tired or has a day off. It's quite well made and carved with a wyvern script spell for steady balance. It used to be Jon's but Hayden gifted it to him when he left Meteli for good. (Also sidenote I'm making Jon and Hayden married in my rewrite just because I think it would be good storytelling)

Laurance has always been clumsy but surprisingly enough his balance only suffered a little when adjusting to his new leg, and he's pretty good at adjusting to the vison loss. He will however sometimes be an idiot while exploring and that's why half the time he ends up in caves or old witches hideouts when he's exploring

Laurance's natural hair color was that nice brown we all know and maybe love and in my rewrite he still dyes it to match Cadenza however becoming a shadow knight kinda mess with his hair and now when it reaches a certain point it kinda sorta just turns orange and while Laurance may be a flirt he doesn't actually care that much about his apparence, as long as he's in good shape health wise he doesn't care, so his hair is left long.

Laurance's shadow knight armor is actually quite different from a lot of other shadow knights as he's technically still living. Shadow knights that are fueled by intense anger like Zenix or were turned when they were still living have a lava like substance glowing in the cracks of their armor. Shadow knights like Sasha, Vylad or Gene on the other hand have "dead" armor that is just rock and maybe a few gemstones. Becoming a full shadow knight takes either your memories or a part of your soul and unless Shad gives an individual that piece back or they are too filled with rage their armor is dead.

His normal guard armor is a mix of nether metals and draconic steel, Aphelia got it from Zoey and gifted it to Laurance when he was sworn in as a knight of Phoenix Drop. It has an extremely high melting point so Laurance can hid his leg if he wants too or he needs to for missions but often times in Phoenix Drop he doesn't bother unless it's cold or raining or Phoenix Drop is on high alert. The leg produces some heat enough to singe fabrics but isn't a fire hazard unless Laurance wants it to be

Laurance used to have a lot of keepsakes and jewelry but they were lost in the Nether. but you can see on the casual outfit that Cadenza has been sending him new rings :)

His hair does glow in Shadow Knight form and yes he has been used as a nightlight/ light source before but on the bright side he got the codename firefly so it's not a total loss. also his teeth are stronger but not sharper as only some shadow knights get fangs and it's seemingly random

I imagine him to be almost 23 and around 6'2 but only because he has a habit of only walking on the tips of his toes as Cadenza made him take the same dance tutor their dads hired for her. In reality he's like 6 ft on a good day.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Thirteen

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Alludes to sex, mentions of wing clipping, mention of parental death, fluff, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You join the IC at the town home for Solstice, then make a decision about Windhaven.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven - Twelve

You laughed as you saw Cassian and Mor drunkenly try to play the piano in the sitting room. You had a glass of some very expensive and very old wine in your hand, provided by Rhys. You had exchanged gifts earlier in the day. You received a lovely pair of fighting leathers from Cassian, two full outfits (including jewelry) from Amren, and a warm cloak from Rhys. Azriel had given you a specially crafted dagger. It had swirls mimicking shadows on it, and the blade and the metal were almost pure black. Along with it, came a sheath that fit perfectly with the leathers Cassian got you. And Mor… well she got you a hideous scarf and lace gloves. You weren’t sure what to do with them, but you figured maybe you’d display them in your closet. 

Rhys was sitting next to you, a faint smile on his face. For this being the first Solstice out from Under the Mountain, you thought he would be happier. But you could see that something was missing from him. He still refused to talk to you about anything other than your training and threats the Night Court was facing. After everything you had been through, you just wished you could talk to him. Like you had Under the Mountain. But that relationship might have been gone now that Rhys had his true family to talk to. He didn’t even tell you why he hadn’t called in the bargain with Feyre. Not the real reason at least. 

Amren was in the corner, a small smirk on her face as Mor played the wrong notes of the piano and Cassian was singing incredibly off key. You looked up as Azriel came over to you, not swaying at all despite the amount of alcohol he'd ingested tonight. “Care to dance?” He asked and you giggled, taking his extended hand and got up, steadying yourself as you grabbed his bicep. 

“You better be as strong as you feel. Cause I’m not going to be standing for very long.” You joked and smiled as he winked at you, promising he’d never let you fall. You both began dancing in circles as Mor and Cass continued their horrible song. Still, you laughed with Azriel as you’d stumble into him, or as he would make a wrong turn. 

The rest of the night consisted of you all singing and dancing with each other. And finally, around when the clock struck two, Azriel led you upstairs to your bedroom. You finished your fit of giggles from tripping up the stairs and leaned against the wall next to your door. “You, my Shadowsinger, are very much the stronger of us two. By a lot.” You said, holding back a hiccup. “You’ve caught me like ten times tonight.” 

You called him your Shadowsinger. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. “You should get some rest, (Y/N).” He said, even though a smile came to his lips. You were both way too drunk to have him tempted into your room tonight. If he was going to take you, he’d do it properly and be very sober. So he could taste and feel everything from you. 

“Hmm… alright.” You said and turned towards your door, shadows pushing it open for you. “Better hope I can get out of this dress properly.” You said, half to yourself, and half to Azriel as a tease. You might have even heard a Cauldron boil me under his breath. “Goodnight, my sweet, strong Shadowsinger. Please don’t wake me up for some stupid training tomorrow.” You said before your shadows shut the door behind you. 

The night had been perfect. You spent it in Azriel’s arms or around him, not-so-subtly flirting with him the entire time. You’re pretty sure you showed him that you liked him. And that you enjoyed his company. And if the Inner Circle didn’t know, they probably did now. 

Rhys was agitated after Solstice. You couldn’t tell why, and honestly you were starting to get annoyed with him since he wasn’t talking to you. 

You were all having a meeting at the House, just a week after Solstice. And he snapped at Amren for suggesting that he needed allies outside of the Night Court. You could’ve sworn you saw her eyes flare with that silver power of hers. But she hid her annoyance much better than Rhys. 

You took Rhys’s arm, dragging him into one of the smaller sitting rooms. “What is your problem?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You’ve been on edge this entire week.” You said. 

He was practically panting. You’ve never seen him so worked up. He turned towards one of the open windows. He allowed the breeze inside, cooling the room instantly. “Feyre is marrying Tamlin.” He said. You detected a lot of jealousy in his tone... and scent. 

“And? They- they’re partners. It might be soon but-“ 

“She’s my mate.” 

Your eyes widened. You blinked at him for a few moments and then hummed. “Why haven’t you called in your bargain?” You asked. 

“She hates me. She’s been through so much. I don’t deserve her. I can’t bring her here when she’s marrying him.” He said. 

“Didn’t you say Tamlin was letting her waste away?” You asked and stepped towards him, resting a hand on his arm. “She might hate you, but I doubt she would if you allowed her to see past the evil High Lord act.” You said. 

“She’s marrying him… she might be miserable but she’s said yes. It’s in two weeks.” He said. 

“Do you think she has any other choice?” You asked and rose your eyebrows, looking up at Rhys. “She was a human almost three months ago. Tamlin saved her-“

“She saved herself. She’s the one who fought while Tamlin did nothing. He begged but he did nothing. He’s pathetic. And he’s letting her waste away in that manor.” He said. His wings were already out, but the longer he talked, the more darkness gathered around him. 

“Call in the bargain, Rhys. If you need me there, I will be. But you deserve to be happy. You’ve done enough suffering.” You said and squeezed his arm. “Call in the bargain.” You said again before turning to leave the room. 

“Is Azriel your mate?” He asked before you could open the door. 

You turned back towards him and frowned. “No… I haven’t had a bond snap into place. Not for anyone.” You said. 

“You certainly seem like you like him.” He said. 

“I do. He’s gorgeous. But he’s just warming up to me.” You said and smiled a bit. “And I’ve got training to focus on, I don’t need a mating bond right now.” You smiled at Rhys. “I’m here if you need me.” You said before leaving. 

You got back to the table, telling them that Rhys needed to cool off. You sat next to Mor, seeing Azriel peer at you from the corner. He was much more likely to be in the shadows than you were. While you used your shadows to hide, he used them to lurk. Not that he needed to right now. You were pretty sure he was doing it right now just so he could stare at you without being obvious. You stared right back. 

You went back to Windhaven the next day. Your wing was completely healed, thanks to Madja and her incredible abilities. You went straight to Devlon, apologized for hitting Calder, and said from now on you (and the other females) would be training with the males. 

“No, absolutely not. The females have to do chores first and they’re behind-"

“Put them with the new recruits. They will learn the exact same way the males do. There is no reason for them to be separate other than your bias.” 

“The males will refuse to train with females.” He said. 

“Then they don’t get to train, that will be on them.” You said and crossed your arms. “I’ve talked to the females, they have no problem training with the new recruits. If the males do, then they don’t train. But the females have the same trainers.” You said.

“Is this an order from the High Lord?” He growled.  

“It’s an order from me. And just as Cassian does, I speak for the High Lord.” You said. You did talk to Rhys and Cassian about it. Even Azriel sat in on the small meeting. They agreed. As long as you could convince Devlon, they would support you on it. 

“And where is the Commander?” He asked, looking around. 

“He has more important camps to visit.” You jeered. “Today, I’ll train with the recruits. Show you and them that a female can keep up with any male at the same level.”

“You’re at the level above the new recruits.” He said. You were surprised he admitted it. 

“Then I’ll train with those males. And if I fail, the females stay training separate. If I succeed, however, they train at the same time, with the same commander.” You said firmly. 

Devlon looked out over the camp, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Fine, though if you hit another male unprovoked, you’ll get the lashings just like they do.” He said. 

“And if he hits me?” You asked, smirking as he waved you off. 

By the time lunch came around, you were panting and sweating with the drills the training commander was making you run. But you were keeping up with the other males. Some of them went ahead of you, some behind. All you had to do was show that you were just as capable of training as any of them. And you did. Albeit, you were exhausted by the end of the day. You didn’t even go back to the house, you just went to the cabin. After a quick bath, you shoveled down food and then passed out on the couch for the night. 

Azriel came the next morning to see how you were doing. Cassian and Rhys had a situation to handle at Ironcrest, and he knew you would be tired. It was before dawn and you were still on the couch, wings awkwardly wrapped around yourself as a makeshift blanket. He smiled as he saw your peaceful demeanor. He knelt down beside you, moving the hair from your face. “(Y/N)?” He whispered. 

You groaned and shifted, wincing as your wing caught on the back of the couch. You opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep. “Az?” You whispered. 

“Hey… did you sleep here all night?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “You’re not going to be happy when you train today. You gotta sleep in your bed.” He said. 

“I was too tired to go up the stairs.” You said, tucking in your wings as you sat up. “Today, I was informed, is flying training.” You said. 

“Devlon said the females would train with the new recruits. Though I heard some of the males wouldn’t train with them. So I assigned them to chore duty instead,” you said with a smirk on your face. “See how they like chores instead of training.”

Azriel looked at you and shook his head. “You’ve done more than we’ve been able to do.” He said and smiled. “Thank you for helping with this. These females deserve to have the choice of training.” 

“This is only the first camp. My father’s camp… and Ironcrest… I don’t know how that’s going to go.” You said, shifting slightly. 

Azriel hummed and shrugged. “Prove to this camp that you’re just as good, better, than them.” He said. “Which you will be. Especially with the way you’re training.” 

“I think I need to stay here. Not just visit. I should live with them, and I need to be here.” You said, looking out the window that faced the camp. You could see the younger males and females running around doing morning chores. You even saw some of them playing together. 

“You want to live here? Full-time?” He asked, a protective light shining in his eye. It was one thing to visit and train, but to live here… He shook the thought out of his head. You could protect yourself. You were more than capable of putting any male in his place. 

“Until they continue without me nagging at them every five minutes, yes.” You said. “I’ll talk to Rhys about it, make sure he doesn’t need me in Velaris… but I think this is where I’m needed.” 

“Care if I visit?” He asked, sitting down on the small table in front of the couch. 

You smiled and leaned forward. “I would love it if you'd visit, Azriel.” You said, eyes scanning over his face. “Only if you don’t show how much you’re infatuated with me in front of the other males. Would make me seem weak.” You teased and nudged him as you got up. You stretched before going to the stairs. “You want to watch us train today?” You asked. 

“I’d love it,” he said and leaned back, smiling as he watched you walk up the stairs. 

You changed into the new fighting leathers Cassian got you and smiled as you saw Azriel waiting for you. “Can I ask you a question about the Blood Rite?” You asked. 

He frowned slightly, nodding. The thought of you participating in the Rite made his stomach churn. 

“Did you still have your shadows with you? Or did the spell take that away too?” You asked. 

“No, I didn’t have my shadows.” 

“Was it weird? Not having them with you after so long?” You asked and he shrugged. 

“A little, but I was more focused on surviving the Rite. Getting to Cass and Rhys.” He said and smiled a bit. “Why?” 

“Because I think I might have to compete,” you said, grabbing your water canteen. “If they’re supposed to take females seriously, they won’t until they see one survive the Blood Rite. If I could do it this Spring…”

“The Blood Rite is… you could die,” he said, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“If I can make the qualifier, I’ll do it.” You said and filled the canteen. “But only if you and Cassian think I would be ready for it… that’s what the whole training exercise in the mountains was, wasn’t it? To mimic the Rite? With my bound wings?” You asked. 

“Partially.” Azriel admitted. “But there’s other times your wings might be bound. And you still had all your normal strength.” He said. “If you want to participate… if they let you… it would be extremely hard.” 

“Females have competed in it before. And survived… not in hundreds of years.. but they have.” You said. “Cassian told me… but I know it’s not easy. I think it would be worth it.” You said. “And maybe other females would see they could do it too.” 

“Keep training. Make the decision once you get near to the qualifier… but doing it this Spring… I think you would need to train individually with Cass or me. They go at a slower pace. Unless you can get up each level every week.” Azriel explained. 

“I can do it.” You said firmly, turning towards him. The soft look in his eyes, the worry, told you that he believed in you. But he hoped that you wouldn’t compete. Not this year, and not anytime soon either.

Azriel didn’t want you to compete not because you couldn’t, but because he was worried about you dying. About losing you. 

“I know you can.” He answered, then opened the door. “Now let me see you train. Kick some Illyrian ass.” He said and winked at you. You laughed gently and walked out, Azriel trailing behind you. 

You walked in comfortable silence, noticing how Azriel would scowl at some of the males walking by. “You know, you normally are very good at holding your emotions back.” You said and nudged him. “This place must put you on edge just like me.”

“Illyrians can be brutal, and a lot of them used to make my mother’s life a living hell.” He said and frowned. “But luckily, she’s safe and no one mistreats her anymore. Not on my watch.” He said. 

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. Cassian told you about Azriel’s mother. How he only got to see her once a week when he was a child. And never saw her when he was training here. 

“My mother died after giving birth to my younger brother.” You said, looking forward. “My father had to make a choice between Varyn and my mother. His wings came out at an odd angle, and she was losing too much blood. Instead of having a disabled son… he allowed his wife to die.” You said and frowned as you  looked forward. “My mother was the kindest Illyrian I'd ever met. Her wings were clipped when she came of age, but never allowed my father to clip mine. She said she wouldn't, at least. After she died, he didn’t give a damn about anything.” You frowned. “When I met Sirona, she had such a similar personality to my mother. They would’ve been fast friends… I miss them both. And will never forgive my father for what he did to my mother.” 

“What about what he did to you?” He asked. 

“He’s a hateful man.” You said and let out a breath. “What he did to me was unforgivable, but… I got out. And my wings are intact. That’s because of me. I won’t hate him for it. But I hate him for a lot of other things.” 

“And yet you can still stand to be here?” He asked. 

“I have something to prove to myself. To prove that I can be better than any of these males.” You said and stopped outside of the mess hall. “Want to eat?” You asked, turning to him.

Azriel gave you a gentle smile and nodded, following you inside.

A/N: Aww this is a cute little chapter! The next one... let's just say there may be some spice in it...

Comments/Request Here

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[oceansssblue]

might i request: with either tech or echo, the choice is yours

jedi f!reader- she gets fatally injured on a mission in order to protect the rest of the bad batch and dies in his arms

after her death, she appears to him as a force ghost while he is grieving, provides comfort

thanks!!!

Angsty one with Echo coming right up! Can life throw anything else to this poor man? 🥹💔

At least he got some healing&comfort at the end. Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"THE GHOST OF YOU"

ECHO/GHOST!F READER 📩💔(💖)

WARNINGS: DEATH OF MAIN CHARACTER (AKA YOU) AND APPEARING AS A FORCE GHOST, SADNESS, CRYING, HEARTACHE, MENTIONS OF WAR AND BEING TIRED AS IN BEING TIRED OF FIGHTING&LIFE, DEEP CONVERSATION, COMFORT.

Echo stared at the dried blood staining his hand. He could feel his emotions swirling restlessly inside of him; threatening to spill and destroy everything in its way in just a matter of seconds or minutes. He was alone in the barracks of Clone Force 99; Hunter reporting their disastrous mission to the Jedi while the rest swallowed their pain down and tried to let it drain in the shower.

Echo had done his best not to crumble in battle either. When his general had been on his arms back on the Marauder on their way back to Kamino, though, he's voice had being pannicked and desperate; he literally begged you not to leave him, to "please, please, stay with me". You had answered with a pained tired smile and fluttering eyes; a broken whisper of a "I'll always be with you, my Echo" the last words that left your lips.

You hadn't. You hadn't stayed; you had died on that next moment, your eyes shutting closed and your body growing limp, and all Echo could do was hold what was left of you in his trembling arms, his heart shattering in a million pieces while he fought not to let an ugly loud sob out, needing to be in private before he allowed himself to break down.

Tears blurred his vision again, his own body slumping down on the floor this time; and the tide of his emotions finally ripped his soul, body shaking uncontrollably with his broken cries and sobs. He closed his eyes shut, bending down on himself until his forehead pressed against the cold floor; trying to hold himself together through the heartache and pain.

Tears wet his cheeks. Flashes of his moments with you runned through his mind. Some happy, some soft and vulnerable, some sad and angry. All of his lost oportunities were relived too; all of his regrets of not having persued anything further with you. All of his childish hopes, dreams and desires washed away by the emptiness of your abscence.

His cries turned to small quiet whimpers and sounds when he pressed his jaw shut. He was so tired. He was so tired of fighting one time after another, of loved ones being taken away from him, of him always pushing through under the worst conditions only to be forced to live through this constant heartache. He just...

"Don't wanna do this anymore" he whinned to himself, shaking against the floor, eyes still closed. "Please..."

He didn't know who he was begging to; but he did know for what. He wanted the pain to go away. Wanted his loved ones to come back. Wanted to...

"Echo" a soft, gentle voice whispered at his side.

Recognising said voice, Echo quickly rightened himself to a sitting position, prosthetic knees scrapping against the floor; eyes shooting upwards.

"C-cyare?" his voice could barely be heard in the quietness of the room.

His breath hitched when you nodded and sadly smiled. It was you; the shape of your body and features perfectly recognisable even in this blue, translucent, wavering tone. Echo quickly understood; you were a Force ghost. He had heard it before.

"Cyare..." he called you, voice trembling, before breaking down into another cry again.

Echo felt your presence by his shoulder; almost as if you were touching him, even if he knew that that couldn't be possible like this.

"I'm sorry, Echo" you whispered, softly. "But I'm glad you're all okay".

Echo wanted to snap at you. Wanted to shout that they hadn't needed your help, that the Batch could defend themselves; but the truth was that they would have died without your sacrifice, and it wasn't fair to put it on you. Echo always knew of your devotion to helping others; he knew you would do it all over again.

He took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself. He stared at your Force ghost.

"You know I loved you, right?" He told you, voice unwavering, feelings vulnerable and completely exposed to you.

The raw emotions in his eyes and face would have made your heart ache if you could still feel one. You slowly sat down in front of him.

"I know" you smiled, a tiny fond thing.

Echo felt relieved upon hearing the answer; and confused as well. You could almost hear his question. Then why didn't you do anything about it?

"I had made an oath to the Order" you gently, patiently explained. "No attachments. You always made my promise start to crumble. Now... I wish I had forgotten about it and used my time better".

Echo closed his eyes and saved those words in his soul.

He opened then again and looked at you. He looked like a lost child, your beautiful Echo.

"I don't know how to carry on" he whispered, broken.

You tried to send a wave of the Force to comfort him.

"You have good brothers that will help you to move on" you soothed him, gentle.

Echo sighed and glanced down at the floor.

"I'm tired of this war".

You couldn't tell him much else.

"I know".

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Echo looked back at you.

"Have you... Fives?" He temptitavely asked, hope in his resignment.

You smiled.

"There's a process to become a Force ghost" you explained. "It's easier for the Jedi to complete. But I've felt his esence. He's here. I'll try to help him reach that state".

Echo nodded, smiling sadly.

"Good. Good" he mumbled, exhausted.

Sleep was tugging at the corners of his mind; his emotions draining the last of his energy. He didn't think he'd have strength to even move to the hammock on the other side of the room.

"Will you stay a bit longer?" He asked, blinking slowly, body dropping to one side.

You nodded softly.

"I can't stay permanently, but I'll stay now. And I'll be here in the future if you need me as well. I'll always keep an eye on you, Echo".

You caressed his cheek even if you couldn't feel the warmth of his skin like that.

Echo sighed pleasantly. He did feel a tingling sensation on his cheek. He wasn't totally alone. Never would be.

"Thank you" he whispered, eyes finally closing, body growing lax against the floor.

You smile and keep on comforting him.

"Just find strength in your new family, love. Fives and I will wait for you. You'll help me keep his Force ghost from terrorising shinnies" you joke, quietly.

Echo hums; the thought pulling a soft smile on his lips before sleep finally takes him away.

You stay until you hear the Batch's tired steps making his way back to their barracks, and you know they'll take care of him.

THE END.

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*Cries*

Back to main masterlist here:

[atrxides]

Book Jessica x Leto <3

I think one of my favourite things about Jessica x Leto in the Dune book is the fact that they are so secure in their love for each other:

You have Jessica; who is a very well trained Bene Gesserit, who can control every cell in her body, that when it comes to Leto instinctually let's herself feel and emote naturally. (Conceives Alia out of "instinct", cries/breaks down when Leto is in danger/dies, visibly gets upset when people ask her about them getting married etc.)

But Jessica is also very secure in her knowledge that Leto loves her and only her, she says to Hawat that "he'll not marry anyone else, not as long as I live." And she is very confident in that which suggests through words/actions that Leto has assured her of this before.

Similarly with Leto, he's very secure in knowing Jessica loves him and he doesn't consider even for a minute that she is the actual traitor. He says "she's opened/showed her heart to me" and that he "knows her", he also tells Paul himself that he'd sooner distrust himself than Jessica.

And so I think that while we didn't get a lot of them speaking directly to each other in the book, the conversations they have with other characters about their relationship is very telling. There is a sense of communication and deep understanding between them, whether it's verbal/non verbal/physical, that they love each other very much and that they are it for each other.

Then there's an aspect of their relationship that is a bit more tragic to me;

From the start of the book through to the end, even after Leto has died, there is this sense of defence that is constantly surrounding their relationship.

It starts with the Reverend Mother accusing Jessica of having a son purely because of Leto and Jessica has to defend that decision.

Then it's everyone thinking Jessica is the traitor and Leto has to defend her (obvi he gives into the plan for his own schemes but anyway).

Jessica has to defend her love for Leto to Yueh, Hawat, and eventually Gurney later on in the novel. She has to fight off all these accusations and questions about why she hasn't married him or why he didn't marry her.

Paul has to defend his parents' love as well to Gurney when Jessica can't convince him she's not the traitor. (Gurney was a real one for wanting to die for doing that lol.)

And it's really sad that that was something that consistently happened, like after 15/16/17 years they were still having to defend what they had. They were probably very private people and while they did have their own love and understanding of each other, other people just didn't get to see that and so there's this constant sense of protection for both of them for who they love and their family.

And especially for Jessica, who at that point had betrayed the Bene Gesserit more than once, being accused and having to defend her loyalty when everything she had done was out of love for Leto.

There's something so visceral about their story and the way they love each other that really resonates with me idk