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troublesomesnitch · 2 months

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Meeting Vhagar - Drabble

Aemond x Wife!Reader

Much to your dismay, Prince Aemond insists on bringing your little son to Vhagar. Set sometime during the Dance.

Contents: Just a little practice thing... Dad!Aemond, Targaryen parenting, subtle fluff. Little bit of subtle angst too. No filth this time..

Words: 3000, and very sloppily proof read.

The carriage can only take you so far as to the Iron Gate.

Beyond its massive doors, the Rosby Road winds North, poorly maintained and full of potholes, as it is the shortest of the main roads, and thus the least important. It is not as busy as others, and the gate is not guarded as well - clearly, as the men who should be protecting it are presently engaged in a game of cards, laid out on top of a large, flat rock.

That is where the driver will wait, but it is not your destination.

There is another little trail. One that runs in the opposite direction, scarcely used and partially hidden, visible only to those who know it. No horse or wagon can make the journey, and there is no option but to walk - first along a narrow, trodden path, and then further still, down treacherous steps, carved into the very rock the city rests upon. Past the watchtower, and across the Northern beach, to the vast caves of Maegor the Cruel, where Vhagar has made her nest.

You walk alone, just the two of you. The prince in his coat and boots, and yourself in attire much less suited for the occasion. Fine shoes, fine skirts, and with your little son cradled in your arms.

The gentle rocking of the carriage has lulled him to sleep. Four months old, he is, and a source of such joy that your poor heart can scarcely contain it. From his first high-pitched cry when you brought him into the world - oh, the pains of labour were all but forgotten, as was the threat of the raging war. And when the prince came to see his son, you could hardly even bear to let him hold him.

He wanted to bring the boy much sooner, but both you and the dowager queen staunchly put your foot down against that. Children should not be brought outside the home until they have at least lived through the first perilous weeks, and possibly even their first fever. And even then, most would argue, they have no business being around ferocious animals.

“I don’t like it,” you say, for the umpteenth time, taking the hand offered to you by the prince to help you cross a treacherous stretch. “It is mad, bringing an infant to such a beast - ”

“Vhagar should know him,” he says, steadfast and determined. As he has done whenever you voiced your concern.

It does nothing at all to calm your nerves. But it is his most compelling argument, and the only reason you have allowed this lunacy in the first place. So the dragon would recognise the boy as his, and as one of her own. So she would know to protect him, if - something should happen.

You make it halfway across the pebbled beach before the prince pauses. And you do too, lifting your gaze to follow his line of sight; see what he is looking at.

An enormous, greyish mass, some yards away, that at first you thought was a moss-grown rock, or years of washed up seaweed. But the mass makes a rumbling noise and begins to shift and lift itself, slowly and carefully, as though with much effort. Part of it becomes a leg, another part unfurls into a great wing, and the rock nearest to you becomes a head, with a mouth full of jagged teeth, and two eyes opening slowly. Amber in colour, and with slitted pupils staring straight at you.

“She can sense me,” the prince declares, with no small amount of pride, lifting his chin and straightening his back.

You, however, are paralysed, utterly shocked by her vastness. You have never seen Vhagar this close before, and though you knew of her impressive size, it is one thing to see her soaring across the sky, and quite another to be right next to her, unprotected and vulnerable.

It seems to you that the span of her wings could cover half the city, that entire buildings could fit in her mouth. And certainly, she could end all three of you with her fiery breath, or with a single swipe of her claw or her massive tail. One wrong move, even if accidental, even if she did not mean to - you would all be dead.

“Come,” the prince says, pushing at the small of your back. But you stall, digging in your heels, frozen in place at the sight of her.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you stammer. “We should go back - it is not safe…”

The prince gives an overbearing, if somewhat irritated sigh.

“Dragons are loyal beasts,” he reassures. “Vhagar is loyal to me, she obeys me - ”

“She is a beast,” you hiss, hugging your drowsy son closer to your chest. “She cannot be trusted. It is too dangerous - I won’t let you bring him any closer - ”

Prince Aemond does not like to be challenged. He turns around to look at you coolly, his voice low and scornful as he speaks.

“Is your opinion of me so unfavourable, wife, that you think I would risk harm to my own son?”

“No,” you respond, quietly, but truthfully. Since you were married, your opinion of the prince has only risen, slowly but surely. And it continues to do so, still - though perhaps not right now. “I don’t like it - ”

“Mhm - so you said,” your husband says dryly, all but wrenching the swaddled boy from your arms.

He does not complain, the boy. Prince Aemond comes to visit often, at least once a day, and sometimes more. He sits with the child, reads to him, lets him fall asleep in his arms - not for very long each time, but it is at least enough for the little boy to recognise his father’s low voice and stern face as something safe and comfortable. As is evident from the way he now settles against the prince’s leather-clad chest, tangling his little fist into a lock of his hair.

The beast remains still, pensive as her rider approaches, her serpent’s eyes fixed on the thing in his arms, on what he is bringing her. Your most precious treasure, your life’s very purpose, completely at the mercy of the greatest dragon in the world.

You might have felt more at ease if the soft, sparse hair on his head had been silver like his father’s, but alas, it is not. It is exactly like yours, and only the bright violet of his eyes gives away his true inheritance.

And that seems like too little a thing for such a large creature to notice.

Prince Aemond calls out in that strange language of his, with the open vowels and the rolling R’s. It is beautiful, especially in his mouth, and the dragon responds at once, contorting herself to let him touch her wrinkled neck with affection. Which is a strange sight, but what is even stranger is the way she grumbles - as though she likes it. He speaks to her as if she was another person, in long, full sentences that are much too complicated for you to even attempt to understand. There is only one word you can make out, for the sole reason that he says it twice - yoreliatzeh, or yorelatzya, or something akin to that. You haven’t a clue as to what it means.

Vhagar snorts once, and the prince steps back to give her room to move, to rise up onto her legs and bring her head closer, her nose almost touching his hip. While you stand at a distance, staring at the utterly bizarre scene playing out in front of you. A fearsome, vicious beast, sniffing the child like a dog would. Gently and carefully, only she is so big that each of her cautious breaths is like a small gust of wind, making your husband’s hair billow about his face. When she makes a grunting noise, he carefully unwraps some of the swaddlings, holding the child up to let her see him better, smell him better.

He is bright, your darling boy, and curious, like all babes and children. His eyes are wide as they take in Vhagar’s scaly form, and he gives a soft squeal of surprise or wonder, kicking his little feet under the blankets. Reaching his arm towards the beast's massive head, her massive teeth -

“Aemond, please - ” you gasp, clutching your hands to your throat.

The prince turns his head to give you a stern look, one that clearly shows he is running out of patience. And maybe this time it is justified, because your fearful outburst startles the boy, who begins to squirm unhappily in his father’s arms. Fussing and whimpering; a sound that is as painful to you as salt to an open wound.

“Bring him to me,” you plead, “can’t you see that he is frightened - ”

“He is frightened because you are frightened,” the prince says, as soft spoken as always, but with a hint of something sharp underneath.

He cradles the boy closer to his chest, bouncing him gently, holding his head and murmuring soothing words. Exactly as you would do, and to the same effect. It calms him down, and his big, round eyes start darting around again, taking in his surroundings. The dragon, the grey sea, the fine silver clasps on his father’s clothes. It does seem that the latter intrigues him the most.

Vhagar lifts her neck and tilts her head just slightly, seemingly very interested in the child, in this tiny little creature; the way he moves his little limbs, and his soft coos and noises. There is an almost… thoughtful look in her eyes, or at the very least a curious one.

It makes you wonder about the extent of her perception. Whether she truly knows that this is Aemond’s child, that it came from him, from his body, his flesh. If she can sense it somehow, through the bond they purportedly share, or if she understood it when he spoke to her.

How intelligent is a dragon? Are they like dogs or horses, able to learn the meaning of certain words, but not the full breadth of language? Or do they think as people, with nuance and emotion, and a mind as vivid as your own.

You do not know. You suppose no one really does.

“Come,” the prince calls, reaching his arm towards you, beckoning you closer. However, a single glance at Vhagar, whose mighty gaze is now focused on you, is enough to inspire disobedience in even the most well-behaved wife.

“I would really rather not - ”

“She must know the both of you,” he insists.

“Is that - necessary?” you squirm, wringing your hands, very much aware that you are not a dragon rider, that you haven’t a drop of Valyrian blood. “Vhagar has no reason to think fondly of me…”

The prince scoffs.

“Are you not the mother of my child?” he says. “Now, come.”

You must go to him. He is your lord husband, and he is a prince, and such is the way of things. But you are not at all glad to, and you walk with shaky, reluctant steps, gripping onto his elbow and cowering behind him like a frightened child.

You close your eyes when the dragon lowers her head once more, bringing it towards you. A sudden, low-pitched growl makes your heart tremble, but the prince speaks a soft command. Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī.

It has a calming effect on you too. As does the arm he keeps outstretched in front of you - solely for your comfort, you assume, as it would make no difference whatsoever, should Vhagar decide that she does not like you. But you appreciate the gesture nonetheless.

The air is warm, this close to her, and your skirts move around your legs when she breathes, slowly and deeply, while the prince speaks to her in soft tones. That word again, the one from before, and many others. You know the words for wife, for king, for father, brother, sister, even for dragon, but he says none of those now, so you have no guess as to what he is telling her. Or if she understands. Or what he would call you, if not his wife.

This woman is my - spouse? lady? lover?

You do have a kind of love for him, and sometimes you think he does for you, too. Sometimes. One can never be sure of anything with the prince, who keeps himself so closely guarded. Even after more than a year of marriage. Even now that you have given him a child.

The birth went mercifully well, but your recovery was long, and he has only recently begun to come to your bed again. And so far, only a handful of times. The first time, it was so painful for you that the act could not be completed, and the second time, he finished so quickly that it barely even counts. The third was better. Pleasurable for both of you, but still strange after going so long without it - at least for you. It is both likely and possible that the prince satisfied his urges elsewhere while your body was indisposed. You do not know. Nor do you wish to.

The ground shifts beneath your feet, and the heat around you lessens, as does the heavy smell of burned flesh and brimstone, the very same one that so often clings to your husband’s clothes. When you open your eyes it is to the sight of Vhagar, settled onto her belly, her head laid atop her claws. Calm and docile, and with a deep rumble coming from her chest - one that is probably a sign of contentment, even if it sounds utterly terrifying.

“Touch her,” the prince commands, giving a gentle push to your back. “You have nothing to fear, touch her.”

It is quite clear that Vhagar is unruffled by your presence, that she is resting. But with her eyes heavy and half-closed, it makes her look so menacing, so evil - even though you know that evil does not exist inherently in any beast. Only in those who train it.

You draw in a steadying breath, gathering up your courage, reaching your hand out - only to then think better of it and let it fall.

“I am afraid to,” you whisper.

The prince sighs. But his hand closes gently around yours, bringing it to rest on the side of her nose, first the tips of your fingers, and then your whole palm.

It is like nothing else you have ever felt, her scales. You always imagined that a dragon’s skin would feel like leather, but Vhagar’s skin is so much tougher, so much rougher, like running your hand over little rocks. And she is warm - so warm, as though a fire is always burning somewhere in her throat.

She does not object at all to your touch, even when the prince withdraws his own hand, leaving only yours. Only you and Vhagar. The largest, oldest being in the world.

To think, the things she has seen. The conquest, the Dornish Wars, the very founding of the realm of the Seven Kingdoms. Dozens of castles have crumbled in her fire, and thousands of people have perished, and she has fought and won hundreds of battles; torn through stone, rock and earth as though it was boiled jelly.

It is at once terrifying and romantic, like something from a fairytale, or stories of ancient times. A creature of such myth and legend that you almost feel as though you should bow down to her, as one does before a great matriarch.

Vhagar the Conqueror. Queen of all Dragons.

She closes her eyes when you draw back.

“He might ride her too, some day,” the prince says quietly. Wistfully.

“But dragons only have one rider - ” you protest, cutting yourself off when you realise what he meant. What he left unsaid.

This is war. The realm is at war. Death is everywhere; at the end of a blade, in the point of an arrow. And if not on the field of battle, then in tainted water or plague-ridden camps; empty bellies or festering wounds.

“You shouldn’t say such things,” you mutter, looking down at your feet. Your dirtied shoes.

The prince does not answer. A heavy mood has settled over the rocky beach, something vast and bleak and empty, only compounded by the surroundings. The colourless sky, the sombre crashing of waves. Even Vhagar gives a doleful sigh, as though she too is weary of what is to come.

She has been the prince’s companion since childhood. He was born to the queen, but Vhagar made him what he is, made him ruthless, made him brutally ambitious. Made him Aemond One-Eye, Aemond the Kinslayer. Prince Regent, Protector of the Realm. She has known him boy and man, as well as any, and better than most. She has known him in life, and she may yet know him in death.

You push that thought away as forcefully as your mind allows. You shouldn’t think such things.

A coo from your son breaks the tension, and his eyes turn to the sky, where a large heron is flapping its wings. The afternoon is turning to evening, and soon the bell will ring for supper - something warm and comforting, you hope. You are cold, your breasts feel sore, and you have most certainly had enough excitement for one day. For several days, in fact.

“Can we go, please,” you breathe, looking up at your husband with wide, pleading eyes.

“She is tired,” he says, with a soft glance at Vhagar’s terrifying face, and a gentle touch to her side. “Yes, we should.”

—

You walk slower on the way back. Uphill, with sore feet, and your boy now fast asleep in your arms. Safe and snug where he belongs.

“My Prince,” you begin, sweet and innocent. “What does… yoreliatzeh mean?”

There is a sly little smile on his face when you look at him, a self-assured look in his remaining eye.

“Jorrāeliarza,” he corrects, with an artful pause before he continues. As though to keep you in suspense. “It means dear. Or… beloved.”

If he sees the sudden blush on your face, he does not let on.

“Jorālitzeh.”

“No,” he says. “Jor-rāe-liar-za.”

“Jor-rāe-liar-za,” you repeat, trying your very best to mimic the exact movements of his mouth, the way he gently rolls his tongue. “Jorrāeliarza.”

“Better,” he nods, and then you round a corner, just in time to see the guards hastily hide their cards away, and the driver shuffling back towards the carriage, eagerly shoving his winnings into a pocket.

Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza. Jorrāeliarza.

Dear. Beloved.

You like that very much.

Please feel free to come into my asks or DMs with critique of my fics! Constructive is preferred, but not required.

Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness, @aemondsbabygirl, @qyburnsghost, @blackswxnn

I am a mess with the tagging, I'm so sorry if I forgot or wrongly tagged anyone. Let me know, I will fix it.

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond fluff

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insomnianoctem · 1 year

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Heartbroken to see Peyton Parrish use an AI music video </3

#every release he's done the last 2 years ive loved #but #cmon man #there's no way you don't know how shitty this is by now #artists who jumped on the hype wagon in the first few months of these programs but realized how fucked up they were #ican synpathize for at least because they 1) learned and 2) we didn't know how bad this was gonna be #it can't be excused when we're like a year into this bullshit #and theres multiple massive court cases in multiple countries about it

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hyperstell4r · 15 days

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No Church in the Wild

Finding yourself in a new world, you worry that your status as an outworlder will raise suspicion among the people in Teyvat. However, as you befriend the many characters you meet along the way, there seems to be a special connection between you and this world - you realise you worried over nothing. (or: isekai sagau headcanons with creator!reader) Words: 798

Sunlight pours through the gaps in the tree canopy, casting a warm glow on your skin. You expect to see the familiar ceiling of your room when you open your eyes, however, the soft chirping of birds and the faint chattering of squirrels tell you to expect otherwise.

When you sit up to take in your surroundings, the sight that lies before you is not that of your room, but a massive tree providing shade in the otherwise empty plain. Taking in the gorgeous scenery, a glowing teal butterfly catches your attention, leaving a trail of sparkles in its wake.

You soon realise what you saw is actually a crystalfly, a creature that should only exist in -

Oh this cannot be real.

Processing that you've somehow been transported to a world that should only exist in a game is an adjustment, to say the least. Deciding you need to find work if you ever want to live a normal life in this world, you join the Adventurer’s Guild. It pays well and gives you the chance to travel to different nations on the pretence of completing commissions.

When you’re out late at night in Liyue Harbor, you find yourself gravitating towards the Wanmin restaurant. Xinyan looks up from taste-testing Xiangling’s new recipe to wave and call you over. Ever so thoughtful, Xiangling quickly makes you a bowl so you have something to eat while you talk to them. The two of them let you sit down and talk whenever you need them to lend an ear - bless them. Sometimes when you visit the restaurant, Shenhe is there too. She appreciates being able to relax in your company, seeing how you never force her to participate in the conversation while you respond to Guoba's cheerful chirps.

Nilou's dance all but mesmerises you when you watch her practicing a new choreography, perfecting her steps. You only realise you’ve been staring by the time she finishes her dance. The girl stops you from apologising for your rudeness, inviting you to watch her next performance at the Grand Bazaar. From then on, you attend as many of Nilou’s performances as you can, always bringing her water and snacks for the both of you to share while you celebrate another dance well done. There's an especially important performance one day. When you present to her the bouquet of Padisarahs you so carefully prepared, they are the most resplendent flowers that the dancer has ever seen. She almost wonders if you witnessed the Padisarah bloom for the Goddess of Flowers all those years ago.

Of course, being a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, you often have run-ins with Bennett, Fischl, and Razor. You join them on their picnics, admiring the scenery together as you tell them stories from your world. Your friends listen intently while you speak of horseless wagons made of metal and buildings that scrape the sky. It's hard to tell whether they are just being polite, or if they are extremely invested in the concept of electric toothbrushes. Nevertheless, you always enjoy these times you spend together. The weather is always perfect and you never see monsters around, as if nature itself wishes to please you.

Beidou warns you to be careful when you sit on the edge of the Crux, your legs dangling above the water; but she can't help the smile that comes with watching you and Kazuha excitedly exchange songs and poetry of the respective worlds you hail from. Your voice carries an indescribable peacefulness to it as the world seems to bend to your song. A gentle breeze blows through your hair, and you swear you can hear a faint whisper. There's one time you fall over the edge and start plummeting towards the ocean below. Kazuha reaches out to catch you a moment too late; but before you hit the water, a gust of wind lifts you up. The whispering is more apparent this time, almost as if the wind is giggling, teasing you endlessly. Kazuha, seeing your flustered expression, can't help but smile as he thinks, so you can hear it too.

You find Kirara makes an excellent adventuring partner. You often run into each other, sometimes deciding to go fishing together as a break. You opt for a rod from the Fishing Association while Kirara prefers to rely on her feline instincts, jumping into the lake. When the sky grows dark and you're sitting on the beach enjoying the grilled fish you prepared, the courier points out how brightly the stars are shining tonight - as well as how much they resemble your eyes.

In your new life, the people of Teyvat are ever so good to you and you hope for this peace to last forever, but it seems you have spoken too soon.

#sagau #genshin sagau #platonic #this is so embarassing ive never written a serious fic before #xinyan and xianglings friendship means so much to me #sagau x reader #this was literally a yapfest but im putting it out there!!!

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ameliathornromance · 7 months

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"(Y/N)!" Your Orc partner roared.

Where had you gone? It was a routine raid, you should have stayed back and help everyone move supplies.

The fire that had been set to burn out most of the humans (your idea) licked the sky, buildings collapsed with a plume of ash.

It had all gone wrong. The whole point of the fire was to get human beings running and out of the way so that the Caravan could run in, take what they needed and leave.

But that wasn't what happened. The humans had fought back. They had started to drag up water from the well, and tossed it over the fires. The Orcs had no choice but to retreat.

But the humans drew their swords. And the Orcs had no choice but to defend themselves.

Bloodshed had ensued and the fire had gotten out of hand. Once your Orc had retreated to go and get you out of the fray, you were gone. You should have been hiding by the treeline, away from the madness.

"(Y/N)!" Your boyfriend shouted again. He ran past bodies, bodies of his own and humans too. The blood that had spilled made it difficult to maintain your boyfriend's balance. He slipped, and caught himself way too many times.

But he reached the centre of the town, he saw you. You clutched a bucket of water to your chest, soot smeared across your face while another Orc barked at you.

"(Y/N)!" Your Orc Boyfriend bellowed.

You jumped, but the other Orc snatched your bucket before you dropped it. He ran off as your Orc Boyfriend approached you.

"I-I..." you began but you couldn't finish.

"What are you doing?! You need to get out of here, now!" He snapped.

"But the Orcs, they're injured-"

"Don't worry about them, get to the wagon at the other side of town, my others will keep you safe." When you didn't move, your Orc barked, "now, (Y/N)!"

You gritted your teeth. You knew this was no time to argue, but you didn't want to just leave him here. But as a collection of angry human roars echoed from the other side of the village, you flinched.

"Go, now!" Your Orc turned away from you and to the human mob getting closer and closer.

"I'm not-"

"I'll be fine! Now go!" Your Orc Boyfriend shoved you away from him. Once you had the momentum, you took off into a sprint. You knew he was right, there was no way that you could defend yourself from that many people.

A few other Orcs ran past you to join the fight. You still didn't turn back. You knew if you turned back now, you wouldn't be able to keep running away.

The wagon, holding a couple of barrels came into view. The only Orc standing, beckoned to you, "come on!" He bellowed.

Your lungs burned, your legs ached, your arms were sore from helping the survivors. As soon as you reached the wagon, the Orc grabbed you and sat you amongst the barrels, providing you good cover. Should the humans decide to use bow and arrows.

You dared to look back. Where was your partner? Where'd he-

An answer appeared before you could even finish your thought. Your amazing boyfriend, barrelled out from a cloud of smoke, brandishing his axe. Humans nearby flinched, screamed, some even roared and swung back in defence.

The wagon had started to move, drawn by the Orc who had put you on the back of it.

A few humans sprinted to keep up your boyfriend, waving torches and pitchforks. But they only fell further and further behind as your Orc raced to catch up with the wagon.

You leaned forwards, holding your hand out to him, "hurry!"

With one final leap, he grasped onto your arm and crashed onto the wagon.

The wagon creaked under his massive weight. But it did not break. The supplies that the Orcs had stolen rustled as your boyfriend adjusted himself.

He lay on his back, panting, huffing.

"Damn human bastards." He breathed. "The others were good diversions. They said they'd catch up-"

You flung yourself on top of him and squeezed him tightly. Your heart thundered hard in your chest, adrenaline still rushing through your system.

Your Orc said nothing, instead, just placing his large hands on your back and holding you there.

It was a close call. Too close. For either of you.

"Promise me you'll never do that again?" You looked up at him. "Please?"

Your Orc Boyfriend looked at you and huffed, "Only if you promise to never go into another raid like that again."

Nodding, you settled your head on his chest again. His heart had slowed to a dull thumping.

As the voices of the angry humans died out, you felt yourself relax. You were both safe. And that's all that mattered.

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#monster x female #monster x you #orc boyfriend #monster romance #orc x reader #monster x human #orc romance #monster lover #orc fiction #monster x reader #orc x female!reader #orc x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend

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gbhbl · 8 months

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Album Review: Massive Wagons - Welcome To The World (Remixed) (Self Released)

You don’t have to be a huge Massive Wagons fan to appreciate this re-issue and its re-worked tracks, but it probably helps.

UK rockers Massive Wagons will re-release their fan-favourite album ‘Welcome to the World’ on January 19th, 2024. The album is made up of re-worked songs plus a number of bonus tracks & new artwork. Originally released in April 2016, the album is currently out of print on CD and the band have been vocal over the years about tweaks they’d love to make – and now they have! Frontman Barry “Baz”…

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#Album Review #Massive Wagons #Remixed #Self Released #Welcome To The World

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planetmosh · 2 years

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Massive Wagons-Triggered-Album Review-Planetmosh

Crash bang wallop! No, this isn’t the title of the new studio album from Massive Wagons, released on October 28th 2022 via Earache Records but it could be as ‘Triggered’ to my ears is the heaviest they’ve recorded musically and lyrically. Formed in Lancaster 2009 I was lucky to catch one of their early gigs as they showed great promise at the Sanctuary in Burnley, supporting ex AC/DC vocalist…

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#album #album review #Earache Records #heavy rock #Massive Wagons #new album #New Video #Review #rock #Rock n Roll #tour dates #Tracklist

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errolluck · 4 months

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Dear Americans and people outside Mexico: Please stop.

I have seen many posts of people outside Mexico saying: Congrats, Mexico! Claudia, a leftist feminist ambientalist jewish woman, is president! Take notes US!

Meanwhile, you go out in the streets in Mexico today and no one is celebrating. No one. The streets are empty, everything feels sad and hopeless.

A lot of people didn't want her. Because we know what is going to happen.

Morena (her political group) is literally in every position of power. From senators, to city governors. They have EVERY SINGLE thing in the goverment.

You know how bad things are gonna get for us here? Do you know what she has allowed? What THEY have done to our country? All the shit we have been through because of them?

No, because you don't care. You haven't cared enough to research who this woman is really and just praise her without knowing a shit.

Because you have to make everything about you, don't you?.

"I can't believe Mexico has a woman president before US!"

"OMG, US take notes!"

"The US-"

Can you stop for a second and think outside of your bubble? Do you truly know who this woman is and what she has done to Mexico? Or you are just using this to talk about you and your own country and problems?

Please. Please do your research.

She is not your precious feminist ally.

She has denied multiple times the ongoing wave of violence against women in Mexico (11 women go missing A DAY). She has sent riot police to gas feminist protests.

Did you hear what I said?

11 WOMEN GO MISSING A DAY.

EVERY DAY 11 WOMEN NEVER COME BACK, ARE KILLED, ARE RAPED, ARE TORTURED, ARE GETTING FORGOTTEN WITHOUT LEAVING A TRACE. EVERYDAY.

And she denies this. She has denied MULTIPLE TIMES that the violence against women is at an all time high.

A feminist would denied that 11 mothers/sisters/daughters/aunts/girls/women/people are going missing PER DAY?

No. Because she doesn't fucking care.

She is no ambientalist.

She was more than happy to support the Tren Maya, a project AMLO, the former president, was hooked on making since the begining.

The issue?

DEFORESTATION. MASSIVE DEFORESTATION.

10 MILLION TREES HAVE BEEN CUT DOWN.

Entire natural spaces gone for a train that isn't even working and already is having problems.

Also, how can I forget this?

27 people died, 80 injured.

The line 12 (Linea 12) of the CDMX Metro collapsed. The structure and the entire transport had (and still are) been neglected by the city administration.

Guess who was in charge of CDMX at the time of the tragedy?

Exactly, Claudia Sheinbaum. What was she doing instead of sending resources and money to fix and mantain the Metro?

But political propaganda for herself, of course!

And even after that tragedy, there have been multiple issues and accidents in the metro. A fucking coworker of a family member was trapped in a wagon alongside multiple people for HOURS due to a malfuction of the metro. They weren't allowed to get out even if they were cooking alive due to the heat of being inside a closed wagon and police ordered them TO NOT FILM what was happening to them.

She is not a saint. She is not an icon. She is not someone you should praise.

FUCKING INFORM YOURSELF BEFORE TALKING.

Mexico is not USA. Get it? We don't have the same politics and issues you have, get that?

The entire world doesn't revolve around you. We aren't your argument to use, we aren't your little meme to fuck around with.

We are people that are tired. People that didn't want this. People that are upset, dissapointed, mad, hopeless.

My blog isn't a political place, so as a final note, I want to say this:

I want to be wrong. I really, really want to be fucking wrong.

I want my country, Mexico, to be ok. To be a better place to live.

I HOPE to be wrong and that things get better. For me, for my family, for my friends, for the millions of people that stay, study, work, breathe, live and love this country.

Claudia Sheinbaum, I really want to be wrong about you. Not because I love you, but because I love Mexico.

I don't have high hopes for the future, but I really, REALLY, want things to be better.

That's all I have to say for now.

#mexico #elecciones 2024 #2024 elections #politics #usa #feminism #america #mexican #mexican politics #claudia sheinbaum #government corruption #ambientalism #signal boost

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